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wanderingjedi77 · 1 year

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First Meeting (Bo Katan x Fem!Reader)

The first time you met Bo-Katan, the Empire had been in power for five years. You weren't Mandalorian, like she was. Sometimes you barely felt like a person.

You're family had been killed in the Clone Wars, caught in the conflict between the Republic and Sepratists. You were orphaned and alone, and drifted from place to place until you found work at a little droid repair shop on Naboo. In the heart of the Empire.

You worked hard, and didn't speak much to anyone except your co workers. You didn't want to draw attention to yourself because that was bad. You didn't need to be recruited or arrested. You just wanted to live you're life.

But you don't think you did until you met Bo.

She came into the shop with three of her Nite Owls, looking for parts to fix some old units they had when you were working there alone. You were startled at first, because Mandalorians didn't usually come here, but when Bo took off her helmet you were speechless in a different way.

"How soon can you have these parts?" Bo asked, giving you a curious look.

"Less than an hour." You blurted out, blushing. "Uh..." you weren't sure how to address her.

"Mand'alor." One of the others said.

"Mand'alor." The word sounded funny in your mouth and the woman laughed, looking amused. "Please wait here. I'll get everything ready for you." You said, nervous. You went to the back and started digging and checking inventory for everything you needed.

It actually took you forty five minutes to find everything, but you took am extra fifteen to calm the hell down.

You let out a deep sigh and brought the items to the front of the shop, putting them in a container as they watched you. When you finished, you closed the lid and looked at them expectantly.

"Here." The woman handed you a pouch of credits, and you smiled. "This should suffice."

"It's plenty thank you." You tell her.

The woman nods, pleased. "My name is Bo-Katan Kryze." She tells you, "If you wish, we could use more of your services in the future."

A steady income? Yes please.

"That would be great!" You blurted out, excited. "I'd be more then happy-"

"You really should learn to lock your door when doing unsavory business deals."

You stopped talking and felt her breath catch. Of course, Lieutenant Lawson would show up now.

You watched as he approached, slicked back brown hair and an air of superiority about him. Bo stepped away from you, just off to the side; and tapped her hand against her leg as the others with her tightened up.

You clenched your fist and frowned.

"I help anyone who comes to this shop." You reply, and you step from around the counter. "You know that Lieutenant."

"Even Rebels?"

"Their Mandalorian." You correct him, and Bo glances at you.

"Girl, do not tell me what they are!" He yells at you, and you flinch, putting your eyes down. You hated being yelled at.

"Maybe we should show you what we are." Bo snaps back and puts her helmet back on her head in one quick motion before she draws her blaster.

The Lieutenant looks at you sharply. "Traitors! You think you can get away with this-" He lunges at you and you jump back, hitting your back against the counter as a blaster shot rings out, followed by two more as you sink to the ground, covering your ears.

The lieutenant and his two bodyguards drop to the ground, unmoving, and you swallow hard, hands shaking as you remove them from your ears.

You had seen death before, but not like this.

"Hey, are you alright?" Bo is in front of you, blocking your view. Her helmet is off again, you realise. She kneels down in front of you, and starts checking you for visible injuries.

"Look at me! Look at me! Did he get you?" The woman, Bo, asks you, and she grips your arms with her hands. It's not hard, but enough to draw your attention.

You share your head. "No no. He didn't. I'm sorry. I'm-"

"Hey, it's okay." A female Mandalorian tells you. She's standing behind Bo and takes her helmet off. "I'm Koska. That's Axe-" She nods to the surley looking man.

"I'm y/n." You say, and you take some deep breaths to calm down. "Thanks for coming to my rescue." You thank them, but your looking at Bo.

Bo nods and helps you stand. "Do you have a safe place you could go?"

"No. I don't have anyone. I'll be okay, though." You try to smile at them, and Bo frowns.

"She could come with us Mand'alor." Koska says.

"She is kinda brave." Axe offers next.

"Alright." Bo, let's go of you. "I guess I'll keep you." There's a teasing tone to her voice, and you blush; feeling shy.

"Too bad Axe, looks like Bo has eyes for that one." Koska whispers to him.

"I'm fine. She is cute, though." Axe whispered back, and Koska smacked him on the chest.

Bo looked at them and turned to you,her eyes were softer now. She clearly didn't want to scare you. "If you want to, you're welcome. I wouldn't leave you to face the repercussions of our actions."

"I just need to get some things." You tell her, "I'll go. With you, I mean. You saved my life so I'm in your debt Mand'alor."

Bo watches you and gives you a smile. "Quickly then." She orders, and you comply.

By the time you're flying away from Naboo, your heart rate has slowed. It feels safer. For now, you have a new home.

#star wars #bo katan kryze #the mandalorian #star wars mandalorian #bo katan x reader #star wars x reader #bo katan x female reader #first meeting #i hope this is okay!#naboo #mandalorians #nite owls #imperials

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dogtoling · 11 months

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Who of ur ocs are uh. The biggest fashion disaster? Like in a good way and in a bad way. Saw some neon motherfucker and love that. Good for them

this is honestly really hard to answer because if i give an OC an atrocious outfit, i just won't draw them ever again, so they're only allowed to be atrocious within limits. after some consultation, triumphing over the guy who wears a diving helmet AND the guy in full-time fursuit, Graffiti has got to be the best contender

and honestly his drip isn't even bad, but you HAVE TO take into account that he's wearing mismatched sandals WITH SOCKS, and a hoodie with sports shorts.

But after some consultation i can say that the top contender is actually a side character called Rob, with his bizarre shirt and pink house slippers....

PERSONALLY THOUGH, i was going to take the L and submit Koira mostly because of the pants that every woman in existence apparently hates above all else. (Which was disturbing to me because i own those exact pants and YOU ARE ALL INSANE THEY ARE SO COOL). Anyway I think the labcoat serves too much cunt to qualify

#mailbox #strangest most specific ask yet thanks

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a-not-so-sure-artist · 1 year

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After considering for a long time, I caved in today and decided to create more Twinsomnia OCs!

Lemme show ya how I made them :D

——————————————————————

This little kids’ name is Leon! He’s a 5 year old adopted kid who’s obsessed with anything and everything space related. Because he’s an orphan, he’s def got some of that mandatory secret traumatizing backstory that haunts him but I haven’t concluded what exactly. Yet 🙂

At first, I wanted him to have this toy space helmet that he wears 24/7 and have him have poofy hair that takes up space (pun intended) in there, but I wanted to try something else for fun, so I gave him braids instead because braids are cool 👍🏾 I also switched his little star onesie for an astronaut one ‘cause that’s what he wants to be when he grows up!

I played with his shape language a couple of times to see how unique I can make him look, however I got stuck so I’m ultimately going with the classic “tiny body big head” look and will hopefully redesign him more along the way.

(P.S: I know it says his name’s Louie on this drawing but I eventually switched it to Leon because it just. Fits him better 🤷🏾‍♀️)

This is Nicole! (For now…or not, I haven’t decided quite yet). She’s 12 years old and the older sibling of Leon, who’s adopted to her family, and uh…she’s pretty much your average stuck-up teen girl in children’s coming of age movies. ✨With a soft spot!✨

The first time I drew her (sketch on the right)—well, I liked it, but the way she turned out wasn’t what I was trying to go with. She looks 16-17 in this one, and I specifically wanted her to look a bit younger.

Designing her was kind of a hassle, especially because she either A) Didn’t look the exact age I wanted her to look in my eyes, and B) Her hair made her look like Megatron from the Transformers G1 series.

But EVENTUALLY, I came across a design that I absolutely ADORE! I just changed her hair a bit from straight to a lil curly and BAM! My favorite character of this trio <3

And now the Shadow Thing…I don’t really feel like posting my process for this thing because I despise it for existing and tormenting Leon and Nicole. And because I ran out of room to add more photos. The closest thing we can get to a design process of it is from my Twinsomnia detective “episode” post.

I didn’t plan on making it an actual OC at first, but I eventually came back to it when I needed a character interpretation for the fear of the dark. The Shadow Thing is basically similar to the Boogieman in the sense that it desires to feed off of children’s fears until they’re left traumatized. Yay. Fun.

Aaand to top this whole thing off, here’s some fun facts about these three! (mainly Nicole and Leon)

Nicole is Jamaican American (she has a Jamaican father and American mother) and Leon is African-American (The ethnicity of his past parents are unknown).

The Shadow Thing has similar shape-shifting abilities as the twins, except it can only take the form of anything scary.

Nicole has braces! And she hates it. She’ll attack anyone who reminds her that she does both physically and mentally. Even Leon.

The reason behind Leon’s left eye being hidden is because there’s a nasty scar on it. The eye already has a bandage over it, but he still hides it because he’s embarrassed by it :(

Speaking of eyes: Leon and Nicole originally were supposed to have each other’s eye shape, but I switched them up last minute!

Leon adore’s the twins. Nicole hates them. (I say hate but we all know she likes them deep down <3)

Nicole’s a complete phone addict and kiiiindaaa spoiled. She was having the time of her life being a pampered only child before her parents adopted Leon. Now she gotta learn to be humble >:(

Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Now Alex has more OC buddies!

#fanart #friday night funkin #fnf mod #fnf twinsomnia #twinsomnia #sketch #traditional art #fnf oc #fnf boy and girl #Now if only I could indulge in my ORIGINAL original characters like this #F you Tumblr for deleting my first attempt off the face of the earth #Jk I love you Tumblr please don’t ban me 🥺#Sorry the post is so long lol

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sharperthewriter · 2 years

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Chapter 8 of the 16th KP Fannies Awards

Chapter 8 – How IT Began, Part I

“Awesome!” Dover exclaimed, his eyes wide. There was a twin set of steel doors in front of him with a keypad to make sure that only authorized VILE personel were allowed into the lab. More notable however was the familiar bio-hazard symbol on the doors, accompanied by clear warning signs written in German and English. Glame read the latter and swallowed nervously.

VILE VIRUS LAB

CAUTION: BIOLOGIAL HAZARDS PRESENT

HAZMAT SUITS MUST BE WORN AT ALL TIMES IN THE LAB

“My own exploits are more mechanical,” Bellum said, “but I imagine for someone who nearly murdered the president of Everlot this would be of great interest!”

Dementor scratched his helmeted head, the name of the country bringing a faint recollection to his mind that he couldn’t quite place.

“Oh...ooooh!” Dover cackled nervously and quickly rubbed his hands to save face. “I wanna get in there! Imagine all the damage I can do to those pipsqueaks over at…uh…!”

He had started forward as he fumbled for another lie, but he was saved from finishing the sentence by Dr. Bellum blocking his path.

“Hate to break it to you, sport, but you can't just waltz in there!” Bellum exclaimed. “Can't you read the signs?”

“I agree with the lovely doctor on this one, Mr. Dover,” Dementor added. “A mere twenty seconds of exposure in zhis lab vithout protection would result in instant death and a 'Game Over' for you.”

Glame’s youth betrayed him then as he saw the two scientists exchange an evil, knowing look.

“But I wanna visit the lab…” the young man whined, putting on his best puppy-dog pout.

“Wha? Oh no...not the puppy-dog pout...” Bellum groaned, slapping her face with her palm.

“Not zhat childish expression!” Dementor moaned. He looked over at Dr. Bellum with a grimace.

“Very well, we can show you inside, but only for a few minutes!” Bellum muttered. “And we’re going through the full decon procedure, and don’t think for a second you can get away without wearing a HAZMAT suit!”

“You can look but do not touch anything and never ever take anything out of the lab,” Dementor warned Dover. “It was the most important rule. Had I violated it, I would not have been trusted with safeguarding this resource for VILE.”

“The professor is right,” Bellum nodded firmly.

Dover gulped, looking between the two mad scientists who seemed to be exchanging more than an evil look in that moment.

“Yes, ma'am and sir!”

“I suppose it will be nice to see so much evil in one place, one last time,” Dementor said a bit wistfully.

The three villains, with Dr. Bellum’s authorization code, entered the nearby decon chamber and changed into Level C HAZMAT suits, complete with air respirators due to the contaminous nature of the biological specimens they were risking exposure to. They then went into the deconimation showers and showered down. Once the process was complete, they entered into the massive laboratory where fifteen other scientists (nine women and six men) and fifty VILE henchpeople were also HAZMAT-clad, experimenting with various viruses and bacteria.

Bellum’s voice was distorted through the respirator as she began the tour.

“The virus lab was constructed back in 2014 by our own Henrich von Dementor in the hopes to find a bio-weapon that could benefit VILE, while keeping we villains immune.”

“Did he ever get that breakthrough?” Dover asked, his wide eyes turning to the retired professor.

“I did not, unfortunately,” Dementor said. “Viruses are notably difficult to work with, and a bit beyond my expertise. They effect villain, hero, and civilian alike.”

“So VILE is back to the drawing board on the biological hazard front?” Dover questioned.

“Yes. But there is one promising virus with a lot of potential to really do damage!” Bellum grinned with evil delight, her villainous nature overriding her caution. “Come here to the back of the lab!”

The trio made their way past numerous chambers of experiments and the curious eyes of other scientists until they reached the back of the laboratory.

“There it is!” Bellum cackled as she approached a large, Containment Unit Container (CUC), somewhere between thirty and forty gallons in volume. The biohazard symbol was on both sides and the top of the container. It was locked tight in order to prevent the virus from escaping...or so they thought. The front of the container boasted the name of the experiment in bold lettering, which Bellum read proudly. “TEVID-20!”

“What does it stand for?” Dover asked, shrugging his shoulders through the HAZMAT suit.

“It is the Tecate Viral Infectious Disease, which was engineered just this month! Hence the name,” Bellum replied. “The professor’s final evil accomplishment! Of all the diseases that we could possibly use as a biological agent, it would be this one.”

“Of course, it vill take some time to perfect zhe disease...” Dementor added humbly before breaking into a cackle of his own. “But once in zhe hands of VILE, imagine zhe chaos und resulting destruction! Not even Global Justice could stop it!”

Glame felt a bit smaller as he watched the two supervillains, mad with evil passion. He didn’t regret weaseling his way into the opulent lair. But perhaps, this one area he would leave in the hands of the more experienced.

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

(Bavarian Lair, 11:00pm)

Two scientists and five henchpeople remained in the virus lab, locking down the experiments and tidying up at the end of their shift. After the taxing day in the biohazard lab, they were ready to retire to the barracks. One of the henchmen was alone near the back of the lab, humming along with the music playing from his smartphone and cleaning the floors with a special anti-germ mop.

He was enjoying himself, grooving to the tune of “The Naked Mole Rap” and pretending his mop was a dance partner as he cleaned. But one exuberant spin was to be ill-fated, as the handle of the mop connected with the CUC containing TEVID-20. The container toppled to the floor and the lock that was supposed to contain the sample shattered on impact. But this went unnoticed by the henchman as he continued to dance and spin, enjoying his music as he cleaned.

It was several minutes before one of the remaining two scientists came around to do a final containment check before clocking out. She gasped inside her HAZMAT suit upon seeing the broken container and rushed to sound the alarm.

Glame Dover startled awake in his new bed as sirens began blaring and a loud, pre-recorded voice heralded something he hadn’t known he feared.

“BIOLOGICAL CONTAMINANT OUTBREAK! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL!”

It was too late, however, before the young villain could have even chosen a course of action. The TEVID virus had already escaped the lair through a faulty ventilation shaft. It traveled on a breeze, down the mountain and away from the lair and into two nearby towns at the base of the Zugspitze: Grainau, on the German side of the border, and Ehrwald on the Austrian side of the mountain.

This was the beginning.

---------

A/N: “TEVID-20,” the fictional version of you-know-what, is credit to Whitem in his story Momentary Passings.

#kim possible #fanfiction #16kpfa #chapter 8 #original character #professor dementor #Sarah Bellum

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ishhbowl · 1 year

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tell me about your oc’s they sound cool :3

OKOKOK SO! i have many oc universes but the one i was talking abt is my (eventual. i will make it someday i promise) webcomic Into Orbit!! its about four teenagers in the year 2009 who’s town is getting invaded by aliens and wacky hijinks ensue :)

^^^this is the only piece of (some of) the mcs i have on hand, there are more but im on my phone rn 😔

the one at the bottom is jaz phuong!! she/her bisexual grunge enthusiast who has dreams of owning a motorcycle, but unfortunately she is Fifteen Years Old and cannot drive one. truly a tragedy. however she makes due with wearing a motorcycle helmet roughly 60% of the time (has gotten into detention several times refusing to take it off.) she can come off as gruff and intimidating at first, however she just has autism and social anxiety and doesn’t know how to talk to people. she is the coolest one here by far tho. and also my favorite to draw. i love her <3

going clockwise, the next character is theo rivera!:3 he/him token cishet (however he is ace and gnc!! so still a win for the gays) and jaz’s reluctant friend/bestie/boyfriend depending on where you are in the story. hes a silly goofy mischievous little boy with a bad temper that he tries to keep under wraps. when he’s in a really bad mood, though, he sneaks out into the junkyard next to his house and smashes shit with his trademark Baseball Bat Never Once Used To Play Baseball (tm), which will absolutely not ever get him into trouble what are you talking about. he rides on the bike pegs he insisted jaz attach to her bike and they are so incredibly important to me do you understand

next up is shelley “shel” bloomberg, he/him worlds most cringest boy (its a feature not a bug). he’s grayromantic and gay, but he doesn’t know it yet so shhh!!!! hes a massive alien fan, local believer of every cryptid ever (he WILL show you "proof" if asked), avid xfiles watcher and scifi enjoyer. basically hes a huge nerd and we love him for it. usually he gets made fun of (*COUGH* SYLV *COUGH*) for his interests, but its lucky he knows his stuff, seeing as their town is about to get invaded by real-life actual aliens!! can most likely be found on call with his brother alex, playing his scuffed (absolutely NOT pirated he would never do such a thing stop lying) copy of the sims 2, or looking for extraterrestrial life using his handheld telescope. or just looking at space bc you know. space cool.

finally, we have sylvia mahji, she/her the most beloved of girls in the whole wide world. unlabeled sapphic who is POSSESSED BY AN ALIEN!! UH OH!!! well its really more of an unwilling symbiotic relationship but still UH OH!! dont worry her and her alien parasite become buddies (or more... hmmm.........) as time goes on. and she gets alien superpowers. hell yeah. she often ends up being mean to people in an effort to fit in, however all she really wants is friends :( her and theo used to be besties above all the resties but they started drifting apart at the beginning of the story, something to be discussed over the course of the plot. also she and shel are neighbors and have a rival relationship, like they hate each other so much for literally no reason. can you tell i like rivals to friends relationships. oH YEAH AND SHES FUCKING CRACKED AT BASKETBALL GIRL IS BALLING FR

other characters include: spacegirl!! the aforementioned alien parasite of sylv. she, although her name would make you think otherwise, is not a girl but an alien. i dont have a design settled on for her, but i do know that i want her to be humanoid, and she's got a green and pink color scheme :) when she takes control of sylv's body (because she can do that. forgot to say. eyah) sylv's eyes turn green and other eyes open up all over her body because cool :thumbsup: she came on the same spaceship the invaders coming to earth are from, but she just wants to see earth and have fun!! and maybe prevent her evil tyrant alien leader from taking over another world!! who knows!!

another important character is alex flores-bloomberg, shel's half brother, scene kid, and all around goofy guy :3 transmasc he/him, really just here to cause problems and get myspace followers. shel's father absolutely hates him and that fact is only partly because he stained his entire bathroom with hairdye. he's two years younger than the rest of the cast, a point that will be constantly used to make fun of him. i love him dearly. you get it.

uhh eyah thatsit :3 i could go on about them forever and everr so if anyone wants to know more about a specific character(s) or the plot or whatever pleasepleaseprettyplease ask!! ^_^

#oc tag #sorry this is so long they just occupy so much space in my brain

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mjvnivsbrvtvs · 3 years

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someday I’m going to overcome my aversion to drawing gladiator armor, and when that happens----

#im going to become absolutely insufferable about a handful of gladiator ocs but also that spartacus/crixus thing i keep going on about #i just....uh.....hate..........drawing the helmets..............#until then (rewatches the spartacus episode of 8 days that made rome)#re organizes my research folders bc i have so much on gladiators that it deserves its own folder outside of the generic rome folder #the lengths i will go to in order to avoid drawing those helmets....is many

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clusterbuck · 2 years

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“ if anybody were to kiss me, i would want that person to be you. “

🥺🥺🥺🥺

i changed the wording a tiny bit, i hope that's okay!

the stars shine for the two of us

[1.7k, G, ao3 link]

Eddie draws the short straw.

Metaphorically speaking, that is, because what he actually pulls out of the spare helmet doubling as a lucky dip looks more like a poorly drawn kiss emoji.

“What’s—” he starts, then cuts himself off with a groan. “Don’t tell me—”

“—Kissing booth,” Buck supplies.

“Isn’t that a little, I don’t know, too high school?” Eddie asks.

“Apparently, it’s a thing right now,” Bobby says, far too much emphasis on the words a thing for them to sound natural in his mouth. “The publicity department said it would be a good idea.”

At the words publicity department, Eddie crosses himself like he’s warding off a demon. He’s only been back at the 118 for a couple of weeks, and though his turnouts still fit him like a second skin, sometimes all it does is remind him of the time he spent sitting in the public relations office, isolated and sterile and far away from the action, from his team, from all the things that make him feel like himself.

He doesn’t need any additional reminders.

“Veto,” he says, trying to put the piece of paper back in the helmet Chimney’s clutching. “I’m not doing that.” Chimney yanks the helmet away and hides it behind his back.

“Come on, Eddie,” he says. “We agreed, no takebacks.”

“That’s before I knew there was a kissing booth involved.”

“Do you hate the publicity department that much?” Bobby asks. “Because you know this entire fundraiser is their doing.”

“I don’t hate the publicity department,” Eddie says.

“So you hate kissing booths then?” Hen asks, fixing him with a curious glance that darts to Buck and back so fast he thinks he might be imagining it.

Not exactly. But there’s a reason he doesn’t want to do the kissing booth, and it’s not a reason he’s about to say out loud to his entire team. So he jumps on it.

“Yeah,” he says. “I just think—kissing should be for a reason, you know?” Which isn’t even untrue.

“Cute,” Chimney says. “I always knew you were a romantic.”

“Is raising money for charity not enough of a reason for you?” Hen asks.

“I just—” Eddie says and chances a look at Buck, hoping no one catches it. Buck’s face is impassive, revealing nothing, but Eddie’s pretty sure Buck hasn’t looked his way since he said the words kissing booth.

So that’s something.

“Just what?” Ravi asks. “You just hate charity? Can’t bring yourself to kiss people to raise money for—” he pulls out his phone, scrolling through the email they’d all gotten about the fundraiser—“New diagnostic imaging equipment for the children’s hospital? You’d probably bring in enough for a new MRI just on your own.”

He gets some stares for this, and Ravi just shrugs. “What? The man is hot,” he says. “Did we not all know this?”

Chimney cocks his head, examining Eddie. “You’re right,” he says. “Women would line up for him.”

Which—yeah, that’s another thing. He’s only just worked out that he doesn’t actually want to kiss women, so spending an entire day doing it for charity is pretty much the opposite of what he wants. And it probably wouldn’t only be women, but it wouldn’t be the person he wants.

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not—god, I’m too gay for this,” he mutters, and even in the middle of this somewhat bizarre situation there’s joy in how easily the words slip out of his mouth, now, after months of worry and uncertainty.

Then four heads whip around to face him so fast he can practically hear someone’s joints cracking.

“You’re—”

“Eddie, did you just—”

“Since when?”

They’re all speaking on top of each other, and Eddie realises he hasn’t actually come out at work.

“Oh,” he says. “Yeah. Surprise?”

They’re still staring at him—everyone but Buck, who’s smiling at him, warm and steady and more than a little proud.

“That’s not exactly how I was planning on telling you guys,” Eddie says. “But, uh, yeah. Guess I got more out of therapy than originally intended.”

There’s a moment of silence, then Hen and Chimney wrap him in some kind of weird hug sandwich situation and Bobby reaches out to clap him on the shoulder. Ravi holds out his hand, and it takes Eddie a second to realise he’s supposed to fist-bump him. “Good for you, dude,” he says.

Hen and Chimney release him after a moment, after Hen’s murmured, “Proud of you, Eddie,” and Chimney whirls around to face Buck. “You—” he starts, waving an accusatory finger in Buck’s direction. “You don’t seem surprised.”

Buck grins. “I already knew,” he says. “Eddie told me weeks ago.”

“Are you sure you didn’t just absorb the information directly from your hivemind?” Chimney asks. “Sometimes I could swear the two of you share a brain.”

Almost, Eddie thinks. They do share almost everything with each other.

Almost. Except for the one thing he isn’t telling Buck.

“This doesn’t have to ruin anything,” Ravi says, looking at Eddie, eyes half-squinted in concentration. “I bet there’s a ton of queer men in LA who’d also line up to kiss you.” He cocks his head, contemplative. “I know at least three.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie says and turns to walk away.

He barely makes it three steps before the alarm starts to ring.

Later, after the call, Buck finds him in the bunk room. He’s stretched out on a bunk, wide awake, more invested in avoiding further coercion into the kissing booth than he is in sleeping.

Buck kicks at the bunk next to him until it lines up with his and settles down on it, mimicking Eddie’s position and staring at the ceiling. Eddie’s hands are clasped over his stomach, and Buck folds his behind his head. He’s close, so close that all Eddie would have to do is tilt his head and he’d be resting it on Buck’s arm. All he’d have to do is turn his foot to the side and they’d basically be playing footsie.

He doesn’t really know what to make of it.

“So,” Buck says after a moment. “Hell of a way to come out.”

Eddie snorts. “I wasn’t exactly planning on being that dramatic,” he says. “It just—kind of happened.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, and Eddie can hear the laughter bubbling just beneath the word. “It sure did.”

“I was always going to tell them,” Eddie says. “I just didn’t really know how.”

“I know,” Buck says. “I guess—it’s like ripping off a bandaid, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “In a way.” He takes a breath. “I’m glad they know. I didn’t want to hide it.”

“Don’t think of it as hiding,” Buck says. “It’s a big thing. It’s normal to take a minute to figure out how to tell people.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Eddie says. “But still, I’m glad. I want—I want to be able to be my whole self at work, you know?” And the words taste strange on his tongue, because it’s not something he’d ever really thought about before all those months sitting in Frank’s office. But they feel true when he says them, good, like he’s fortifying his own foundations.

“I know,” Buck says, soft, an edge of fondness to his voice. “I want that for you, too.”

They lie in silence for a moment, staring at the ceiling, and Eddie listens to the familiar rhythm of Buck’s breathing and basks in the heat radiating off his body. Eddie’s every cell aches to roll over, to close the distance between them and hold on, and he wonders if it’s actually possible that Buck doesn’t know.

“So,” Buck says again. “Is that why you don’t want to do the kissing booth? You don’t want to kiss women?”

Eddie sighs.

“Thought so,” Buck says. “You gonna tell me the real reason?”

Eddie turns his head, only to see that Buck has done the same and is looking directly at him. And there’s something in his eyes—something in the way he’s looking at him, steady and guileless and sure—something that sparks recognition deep in Eddie’s gut. Something that hums under his skin and shivers up his spine.

Something that makes him swallow and say, “I think you know.”

Buck’s eyes are bright, and a corner of his mouth tugs upwards into a smile. “Tell me anyway.”

“Buck,” Eddie says and pauses to take a breath. “If anyone’s gonna kiss me…” And maybe it should feel like he’s balancing on a knife’s edge, on a precipice about to fling himself off, but he’s never felt more grounded. “I’d want it to be you,” he finishes.

Buck’s face splits into a full-on grin. “I can make that happen,” he says, then he’s cupping Eddie’s face and pulling him closer, closer, until their lips meet. It’s soft, and sweet, and it’s everything Eddie’s ever wanted and it’s not nearly enough.

Buck pulls away after a second, just far enough to look at Eddie. “Like that?” he asks, still grinning.

Eddie hums, noncommittal. “That works,” he says. “But I was thinking more like…” He moves closer to Buck, thumbing at his cheekbone and threading his hand in his hair. He fits his mouth against Buck’s again and kisses him like he means it. Like he’s been dreaming about, long before he ever accepted what it means. Like he’s drowning and Buck is oxygen, and like they have all the time in the world.

Because he thinks maybe they do.

“I can get behind that,” Buck says, a little breathless. Then he frowns.

“What?” Eddie asks, smoothing out the scrunch of his eyebrow with his thumb.

“We have to go tell Bobby you’re not doing the kissing booth,” Buck says. “You’re not kissing anyone else. Not ever again.”

“Never?” Eddie asks.

“Never,” Buck says. “You think I’m letting go of you now that I have you?”

“I can live with that,” Eddie says, and leans over to kiss Buck again.

sacred romantic prompts

#911fic #buddie #buddie fic #me: these prompts will be really quick! narrator: they were not quick #anyway #ask emma #emma writes

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basiccortez · 2 years

Text

A Song Unknown- JTK: Ch 4

synopsis: Jake is trying to figure things out and piece the puzzle together

taglist form (lol i’m getting better at this whole writing taglist thing;)

warnings: cursing, TJ getting stitches, mentions of a depressive episode

TJ was not a scared kid when it came to a lot of things. That was something he clearly inherited from his father. It scared Y/N that he wasn't scared of anything. He was at the age where he liked to do what he wanted and was learning what fear and danger actually meant. His favorite thing to do currently is to yell: "Hey, mom! Watch this!" and Y/N had about 3 seconds to turn and see what he was doing or catch him from jumping off of something. Two months ago they were in the ER for him jumping off the back of the couch and splitting his chin open. And today it was jumping off the swingset in the backyard.

"I tried to catch him," Sam said as they sat in the small ER exam room. TJ was coloring away in some coloring book as Y/N sat on the exam table waiting for the doctor to come in.

"I know, Sam. He's got wild blood in him," Y/N smiled, pushing back the crazy curls on his head, "Its the Kiszka in him,"

Sam took a deep breath, "So you told him the truth?"

Y/N nodded and looked down at her son, "You have ever right to hate me and call me names too. I get it, i would do the same,"

"I could never hate you," Sam said, and looked at his nephew, "Does it suck that we didn't know? Yeah, it does. But I can't read minds, no matter how cool that would be, I don't know what happened 3 years ago to make you think you couldn't tell us. That's your business, i'm just happy to get to be here now, whether he has Kiszka blood in his veins or not. Either way, I'd still be uncle Sammy to this crazy kid,"

"Uncle Sam!" TJ squealed and launched himself into the twins arms. Sam let out a playful groan and pulled the little boy into his lap, "I drewed this for you!" TJ handed the scribbled drawing to him.

"Ah! Potatoes!" Sam said and TJ giggled shaking his head.

"It's me, mommy, Uncle Jake, Uncle Joshy, Uncle Danny, and you!" TJ said pointing to the round shapes that did, in Sam's defense, look like potatoes.

"It's so beautiful buddy, i think i'm gonna cry," Sam said sticking his bottom lip out and TJ giggled, "Hey, no more dare devil stunts okay, promise me?"

"I promise," TJ said and held his pinky out so they could pinky promise, "Uncle Josh said next time wear a helmet."

"And this is why Uncle Josh won't babysit," Y/N said. TJ wiggled his way down from Sam's lap and climbed over to his mothers. Y/N pulled him into his lap as the doctor came in.

"Thomas?" The doctor asked and Y/N nodded.

"I go by TJ," TJ answered and the doctor smiled.

"Of course, my apologies, now let's see how we can fix that head of yours,"

Y/N tried not to cry and TJ didn't even bat an eye at the 3 staples they but in his head. TJ found it kind of funny and demanded to be called 'Frankenstein' now. Sam held his hand as they walked out of the ER and to her jeep. He got the little boy all buckled in before climbing into the drivers seat. Sam noticed Y/N's discomfort as they drove back to her mom's house.

"So Thomas. . . Jake said he was named after some Tayler guy." Sam asked.

"I lied," Y/N sighed, "Thomas Jacob Parker,"

"Born March 25th!" TJ added.

"You guys were definitely busy during that trip to New York," Sam smirked and Y/N hit his chest lightly, "I'm sorry."

"Jerk," Y/N grumbled.

"But uh, why Parker? If you don't mind me asking," Sam asked.

"It was the safest bet for me at the time," Y/N explained, "The nurses had asked me what his last name was and I didn't even think twice when I said it. I know it's kind of fucked up and I'll work on getting it changed-"

"Don't change anything you don't want to," Sam said glancing at her, "If Parker is what he knows, then keep it that way."

Y/N gave Sam a sad smile. She was happy that he was so understanding, almost the opposite of his twin. Instead of going to the Parker house, he parked Y/N's jeep in front of his parents house. Y/N grabbed TJ and carried him into the house, trailing behind Sam.

"Hey, we're-"

"She's a fucking liar, mom!" Jake's voice immediately filled the air, "She's got you all fucking brainwashed to hide this from me!? It's not like he's some christmas gift that everyone can know about except the person receiving it,"

"It wasn't ideal what she did, but she did it for a reason," Karens voice sounded out.

"What fucking reason?! You realize how fucked up my life is going to be now? She gonna try and get money from me? Take me to court?! I have a career, we've barely gotten this shit rolling and now she decides to show up,"

"Jacob," Karen responded.

"That's probably part of the reason she didn't want to tell you," Josh said.

"Or because she's a fucking whore and didn't know who's kid it was. For fucks sake Josh, you sure it ain't yours or Sam's? He looks an awful lot like the both of you too!"

"Jake, that's enough,"

"I'm fucking serious. Who really fucking knows? The DNA test just said there's a parental match, and there's three of us." Jake said and Sam looked back at Y/N who was trying to block TJ from hearing the harsh words come from Jake's mouth, "She was always weirdly close to San. What's stopping her from getting with the band? Fails out of NYU, needs some money for a kid who she doesn't even know who the father is-"

"Would you just stop speaking!" Sam yelled making his presence known. Jake looked from around the kitchen corner to see his baby brother and the fading figure of Y/N Parker as she left the kiszka house, "Wait, Y/N!" The girl didn't stop as she walked into her house and slammed the door shut.

"How long was she standing there?"

"Long enough," Sam said, pushing past his brother.

"TJ hear it?"

"Probably," Sam shrugged.

"Jesus, he's just a kid, he doesn't need to be dragged into this shit show," Jake said.

"A kid, who's named after you, looks just like, has the same passion as you, who actually shares the same DNA as you," Sam said.

"He's named after me?" Jake asked softly.

Sam nodded, "Thomas Jacob,"

Jake shook his head and ran his hand down his face, "I feel so. . . conflicted,"

"And that's okay, Jacob," Karen said rubbing her son's back, "It's okay to feel that way. We did too when we found out, but we knew it wasn't our place to tell. She wasn't just thinking about herself, she was thinking about you too."

"Y/N's smart, and no matter what you say, you know damn well you would've not pursued music this passionately if she told you 3 years ago she was pregnant," Sam said and Jake looked up at his younger brother.

Sam was right. Jake couldn't help but envision of differently his life would've played out if she would've told him. He wouldn't have been able to bring himself to spend months on end on the road, or long days in the studio. Jake was a rockstar with a big heart. He would've wanted to spend every waking moment by Y/N and TJ's side. He would've given up everything to be there for her, to be by her side through it all.

"You would've given up music for me to do film, and you would've done the same to have a family with her," Josh said, "Yes it was a hard choice, but she saw what would've happened, and didn't want that for you. You probably would've never said it to her face, but you would've low-key blamed her for what could've been if she had told you."

Jake nodded and agreed, "I just don't know what to do."

"It's been a long day filled with too many emotions. You guys are both tired, I can see it on your faces," Karen said, "Julie said Y/N isn't leaving until Sunday, so you got all day tomorrow to talk to her,"

"Leaving?" Jake asked, "Leaving where?"

"To go back to Nashville," Sam said, stating the obvious, "That's where she lives,"

For a split second Jake forgot. Y/N Parker wasn't just the quiet girl next door who made and designed their costumes. Y/N Parker had her own career now, a talented music engineer working in the music scene in Nashville. But most importantly, she was the mother of his child, and he wasn't going to let her slip away again.

Y/N didn't talk much for the rest of the night. She made TJ dinner and wordlessly watched him play around in the backyard, trying to catch the lightning bugs that filtered up from the grass. The cool summer breeze blew through and made her grip her tea mug tighter. She tried to block out the events of the night, but couldn't. Y/N tried to put on a tough exterior for TJ, but it was starting to break her down.

Julie watched from the kitchen window as her daughter stared off into space. She knew the signs of this all too well. She watched as TJ ran around the old treehouse and swingset that Y/N's dad George had built when the first moved in. A small smile graced her face as the memories of Y/N, Danny and the Kiszka boys filled her mind. She could still picture their small bodies running around, for hours on end until the street lights turned on and they would all go to their respective homes. Julie had thought about tearing the treehouse down years ago when the kids grew too old to play in it, but when she had found Jake in it one night, she knew that she couldn't.

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

Flashback, 4 years ago:

Julie wiped her hands after cleaning up the kitchen. She looked around at her quiet house. She hated the quiet. It was strange not hearing the rambunctious sound of 5 teenagers in her basement, or in her kitchen or outside in the pool. It was also strange not hearing the continuous beeping of her husband's vital sign reader.

Julie hung her head and looked over at the family picture on the wall above the sink. It had only been 6 months since her husband died and Y/N moved to the big city. It had also only been 3 months since Y/N tearfully called her and told her she was pregnant.

The woman sighed as she looked out into her backyard, and noticed the strand of lights on in the treehouse. She blinked a couple times, and wasn't completely sure how the lights in the old wooden house still worked. George had built the treehouse when Y/N was 5 and it took up the whole circumference of the tree. Julie had always joked that Y/N could move out to the treehouse and she basically did as a kid in the summers, with the Kiszaks and Danny right with her. Julie grabbed her coffee mug and headed outside to investigate.

"Hey!" She yelled from the ground, several feet in front of the tree, "Who's up there!?"

Jake poked his head through the window and Julie couldn't help the smile growing on her face. He gave her a small smile and a wave before somehow climbing down out of the small tree.

"I'm sorry for scaring you Mrs. Parker, but i needed somewhere to write," Jake said holding up his song book.

"Can't believe this old thing is still standing," Julie said motioning to the tree, "George said it's the strongest tree in the whole town,"

"I believe it," Jake said, "Can't believe i still fit in there,"

Julie laughed, "I can't believe either. Sadly, i think it's time is coming to an end. I think you're the first person to step foot in it, in 10 years. You all went and grew up on it,"

Jake looked at the tree and blushed. Memories of Y/N and his last night together flooding his mind. He had set up a candle lit dinner which consisted of pb&js and chocolate covered strawberries. But all the other memories of the countless times he would run off and find solace in the four wooden walls of the treehouse. He often times found himself there after a fight with his brothers during band practice, or writing away a song as Y/N's head laid in his lap and her portable record player would fill the space.

"You can't take it down," Jake said, "There's too many memories."

"Jake, it can't be very safe, I mean we built this when Y/N was little. It's been out here braving the elements. It's just wood and nails."

"It's more than just wood and nails," Jake said, "Y/N and Mr. Parker built it together. What will your grandkids have to play in when they come to visit?"

The word 'grandkid' hit a little closer to home. Julie tried to blink back tears as she thought of George helping Y/N up the ladder with a paint can in her hands, writing her name on the welcome sign. Julie ran her hand over the chipped paint of the welcome sign and closed her eyes, letting tears flow down her face.

"I-I, Mrs. Parker, i'm so-"

"You don't need to apologize, Jacob," Julie smiled at the boy, "You're right. This treehouse is so much more than wood and nails. Thank you for reminding me of that," Julie kissed the boys cheek before turning and heading back inside.

Jake took a deep breath and climbed back in the treehouse. He plugged in another strand of lights, making the place glow with a warm light. He laid out the blanket he brought and sat down, pulling his guitar in his lap, and stared playing the chords to the melody he had started writing.

"Love isn't greed, it's a need that goes unspoken. Love doesn't leave when you fade away..."

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

"Hey," A voice spoke from behind the girl. Y/N smiled up at Sam. He sat on the lawn chair next to her, "How are you feeling?"

"Emotionally drained," She said softly, "My mom told me that you guys and Danny helped fix the treehouse last summer, thanks for that,"

"It was actually Jake's idea," Sam said and pointed to the freshly painted welcome sign, "After that bad storm that came through, he thought that we should probably fix it up."

Y/N nodded and looked back down at her tea mug. She could feel a dark cloud coming over her and she hated it. She wanted to push it away but she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried. Sam had always been able to read her, he had always joked that she was 1/2 of his twin flame, the 1/2 belong to Danny.

Sam didn't say anything, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her into his lap. Sam's affection and love language toward Y/N was completely platonic. He could see the way her eyes lit up when she would see his brother. During those awkward middle school years, it was made Sam jealous, until one day he kissed her and they both agreed it was like kissing a sibling. Sam held her tightly in his lap and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"I feel dark," Y/N spoke and Sam nodded, "I don't like it,"

"I know," Sam said, running his hand down her back, "How can I help you?"

"I don't know,"

"Why don't you stay here longer? That way your mom can help you,"

"She can't. She has to work like the rest of us," Y/N sighed, "I have Tayler at home to help me,"

Sam didn't say anything but just hummed in agreement. The two stayed like that for about an hour, until it was time for TJ to go to bed. The little boy put up a fight but Sam agreed to putting him to bed as Y/N went and started a bath for herself.

Y/N sat in the warm bath, the water up to her shoulders. She sat in the quiet, listening to the dripping faucet as her mind was running. She couldn't ever really explain it, the darkness that she felt from time to time. It was the same darkness she felt when her father got sick, when she found out she was pregnant, when her father died, and the first couple months after TJ was born. Her mother explained to her that she wasn't crazy like she said she was, it was normal to feel dark after having a child.

Y/N pushed her thoughts out of her mind and closed her eyes tilting her head back. But it didn't help. She had thought about it before, slipping under the water, seeing how long she could hold her breath. She hadn't done something like that since TJ was 5 months old and had surgery to put drainage tubes in his ears. Even though the doctors told her it was very common for children to need to have tubes, Y/N had felt the blame was on her. The crying and screaming of TJ being in pain still haunted her dreams. "Post Partum Blues" is what the nurse called them but Y/N felt more than just blue.

Y/N took a big breath and slipped under the water. The only sound she could hear was the slight swooshing of the water past her ears. She opened her eyes and looked at the painted ceiling tiles of her bathroom.

"Y/N?" Sam asked, knocking on the door of the bathroom. He waited a second, hearing if she would respond. He thought it was weird that he didn't hear any music playing, "Y/N?"

Sam knocked on the door a little louder and turned the door slowly, to give her some kind of warning that he was coming in. But with no response, he pushed the door opened and noticed her laying quietly under water.

"Holy shit, Y/N!" Sam yelled and pulled her from under the water. She let out a gasp as she resurfaced and coughed up the water she had inhaled, "What are you doing?"

"I needed to think," Y/N said wiping the water away from her face, "I was fine, Sam,"

"Don't fucking scare me like that," Sam said sternly and Y/N nodded like a little kid, "You're so smart but so dumb at the same time,"

"I know, I've been told," Y/N answered, "Can you, uh, get out so I can get out?"

"Nothing I haven't seen before," Sam said, handing her the pink fluffy towel on the bathroom counter, "Come on, let me help you get ready for bed."

Y/N agreed and took Sam's hand and stood up from the now cold water. Sam wrapped the towel around her body and helped her step out of the tub. Sam dried her off and then walked her into her room. She sat down on the bed as he dug around her dresser to find clothes.

"You think he'll forgive me?"

"Who? Jake? He already has,"

"No, not him," Y/N said and looked at the picture on her beside table, "TJ. Do you think TJ will forgive me?"

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

taglist: @kiszkawagnerwhore@mgk777 @kgllmre @trashx678 @jakekizskasguitarpick @trplshotofdopamine @tripthelight-fanfic @ohitselliana @raeraybaebay @gretavanfle3t @sarakay-gvf @gretavanfleas @godzillalyz

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echos-newlegs · 3 years

Note

would you be able to do 12 from the prompt list with Hunter, preferably smut?

You Help Me Calm

Heck yeah 😳 you didn’t give pronouns and I feel bad assuming even though half the users are she/her, so it’s gunna be a teeny vague— so NB reader

Hunter x Reader: “Your lips are so soft, I could kiss them all day.”

Warnings: smut, little vague, hunter receiving, touch starved reader and hunter

You dug through some scrap metal, a pair of headphones covering your ears as you listened to music. It helped you concentrate, but you couldn’t listen to it on the radio, or even too loud for that matter. Or else Hunter would complain. That or you would just feel bad, because who likes overstimulating your sergeant?

You were humming softly as you worked on patching up some of the damaged panels on the ship. You guys didn’t realize have a choice of a new ship, so they were all thankful for your ability to rewatch things.

Hunter was on a run for supplies that you requested. He wasn’t really sure was he expected to see, but he didn’t expect you to be swaying your hips and murmuring the lyrics to the song playing into your ears. He could hear it, it was nice. It wasn’t something he would typically listen to, but he did enjoy it. Quite frankly.

He watched you for a moment. He loved how relaxed and yet so concentrated you were. Watching as you flicked the welding helmet down over your face and began welding the scrap metal to the side of the ship. Chewing on his bottom lip. He could watch you for hours honestly. You just had this calming effect over him. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that you were just a calm, relaxing individual. Or the fact that he had genuine feelings for you. Which the both of you knew about since he admitted to it while drugged up on meds after being shot. You hadn’t confronted him over it since the incident though. You weren’t sure how.

You turned to head over to the box and grab a few more pieces of scrap metal. Removing the helmet so you could see. Setting it to the side. Smiling up to hunter when you caught a glance of him. Though after you realized it. You froze.

You ripped the headphones from your ears, letting them drape around your ears. Skin turning red as you looked up to the Sergeant. “How long have you been standing there?” He chuckled. Approaching you further. Handing over the box of supplies. “Long enough,” He hummed and you smiled sheepishly. “Uh-huh, alright,” You spoke, rocking onto your heels. Then backing up and turning to set the box of supplies down. “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been working for nearly three hours.” He told you, and you sighed. “Alright, fine.” “that was easy,” He chuckled, and you shoved him a bit with a grin. “You can convince me to do about anything and you know it.” You giggled and he shrugged.

the two of you boarded the Marauder, everyone else was out and about. Running around town or at the local cantina looking for a date for the night. You were too focused on work, and Hunter? Well you weren't sure.

You sighed as you plopped yourself in a chair. Hunter taking seat near you. "So why aren't you at the cantina or something? Scared Cross is gunna get laid before you?" You teased and he rolled his eyes a bit with a chuckle. "Hmm, no, I just don't wanna. Plus I figured I'd get in some alone time with you."

You could tell he regretted his words by the way his nose scrunched. "Oh?" You spoke, intrigued. "What do you mean by that." A small smirk finding its way to your lips.

His eyes darted around, looking for an escape. But there wasn't one. "Well.." he shifted a bit, then looked back to you. "I just figured we could.. talk?" He had been in a sensitive mood lately, so this was new. He must be feeling better. His stimulations died down a bit. Which really did give you ideas.

"Alright, what do you wanna talk about, Hunter." You questioned raising a brow. Watching as his eyes scanned over your face as you leaned forward a tad. "Hm.." he hummed, then blinked and shook his head. "Well, I wanted to ask you something, more so."

You grinned, and tilted your head. "Yeah? Is it about that night in the med bay?" You joked, halfly.

His tanned skin turned a bit red, and he nodded a little. "Yes, actually." You raised your brows slightly. Shocked he wanted to talk about it. "Okay, alright.." you hummed. Licking your lips. "What about it?"

"Do you remember what I said?" He asked, and you nodded. Glancing down with a small smile. " 'Oh, y/n.. have I ever told you how beautiful you are? Or stars.. I just wanna kiss you so bad, feel your skin, hold you.' " you imitated his voice with a goofy look.

You broke into a small giggle when he glared and folded his arms. "I did NOT say that," "oh, but you did." He huffed, and then sighed. "Okay, maybe I did, BUT, I didn't sound like that." You shrugged your shoulders with a titter.

He sighed once more and rubbed his chin. "I just wanted to know if you felt the same way?" He asked and you licked your lips. Then pulled your bottom lip in to rest between your teeth. Watching as his gaze watched the movement. "For a guy with overestimated senses you sure ask some dumb questions."

He looked at you with shocked eyes, and he smiled. Hope written on his face. You thought it was adorable, really.

"Yes, I feel the same." You spoke with a smile. Watching and his eyes softened. His whole body softened. "Especially the kiss part," you spoke with a sly grin, and he smirked. Cocking a brow. "Really?"

You sighed, standing, and soon he did too. "Yes, Hunter, don't make me repeat myself." He stepped closer, and you stepped closer as well. Holding your hands over his shoulders. Giving him a questioning look, and he nodded.

You pressed your skin against his blacks. Watching as he tensed and then relaxed. His hands reluctantly coming to your waist. "Can I kiss you then?" You hummed, leaning in closer. "Nah, just decided I'd toy with you." You spoke and saw his expression begin to fall. "I'm kidding, yes, please."

He didn't leave time for you to change your mind. Moving in to press his lips to your. You wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands explored your body.

The kiss was soft, and heated all at once. Hands running to his hair which made him grunt in response. You always loved his hair.

He pulled back, the two of you huffing and panting. "Can we take it?" He motioned towards the bunks with his head, and you nodded. "Thought you'd never ask." You teased, yelping when he grabbed you by your ass. Lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

Letting out a small giggle as he began kissing your neck, and then lips coming back to meet your own. "You're so perfect," he praised as he walked the two of you to the bed. "So kriffing perfect." He spoke. Voice lowering with each passing second it seemed.

He laid you down and you let your eyes fall shut as he climbed on top of you and began kissing on your neck. You didn’t move the others shirt. Worried that the skin on skin contact initiated by you would cause the other to overstimulate. You loved, but also hated how the other could do so, so easily.

He noticed your hesitance. Still working on kissing your neck. Though this time he brought your hand and slid it under his shirt. You took the invite with pride. Letting your hand slide up. Listening to the small whine he let out with amusement. Locking your legs around his waist. Then tugging his shirt up.

He shredded his shirt off, you doing the same. Allowing him more access to your body. Lips traveling down to your collar bone. Beginning to suck and scrape his teeth. “Hunter..” You mewled. His hands moving over your stomach. You could tell the way you said his name had him riled up even more than before. “Hunter, I want..” You panted, catching his attention.

“What do you want, Cyar’ika?” He purred against your ear as he leant up. “I wanna make you feel good,” You whined, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge. The others would be out for a while, so the two of you would have the time for it. Not only the events itself, but the fact that it would take hunter a while to recharge. So to speak.

He looked you over, fingers running up to brush against your nipples. Making your back arch off of the bed. He smirked as he leant in and pressed another kiss to your jaw. “Hmm, I was thinking of making you feel good tonight.” “Me first,” you spoke and he rolled his hips into yours. Making you both gasp and moan.

Your lips crashing into his and meeting him in another heated kiss. His fingers tracing shapes in your body, and if you weren’t so drunk off of lust right now. You might actually pay attention to what he was drawing, but you couldn’t stay concentrated enough for it. Especially with another roll of his hips.

He pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Your lips are so soft, I could kiss them all day..” He added with a small pant, making you smile with a bit more of a blush. On your already red face. “You’re such a fucking sap, now why don’t you roll over?” You asked with a brow cocked. Hunter doing as told.

He laid on his back, you sitting on his stomach now. Groaning a bit at just the sight of the other. You had been waiting for this for almost as long as he had.

Sliding down him, making a point to rub against him. Causing him to gasp again, fists balling.

You tugged his pants. Pulling them down when he lifted his hips up from the bed. Your hands moving to work, once this was done. You palmed him through his briefs. Hunter throwing his head back with a rather loud groan. Eyes snapping shut, then fluttering open again to watch you.

You trailed kisses and left your own trail of marks down his chest with a small hum. Licking, and then mouthing over one of his nipples. Your hand snaking into his pants, then pulling his member out.

He bucked into your hand, but you moved your hand with his motion. Refusing him the friction he wanted. Making him whine. Maker, you were glad the others were out doing their own thing.

You smiled at his small babbles and praises when your mouth got closer to where he wanted the attention most. Moving to the inside of his thighs. Teeth scraping at his sensitive skin. Causing his eyes to fall shut again. Hands carding in your hair.

You finally made to where he wanted you to. When he was already nearly toppling over the edge from how overpowered his senses were getting. From the smell of you both, to the sounds, to the feelings. Let alone the look of you as you trailed his body like you owned him. He was shocked he was still pieced together.

He let out a rather loud moan when you licked a strip up his dick. Making you groan a bit when his fingers tugged at your hair. Licking his tip, then sliding it into your mouth. He was panting and whining. making you wanna take more of your time. You had never seen him this desperate before. He was always so stern, so strict. Easy to tell you what to do, and honestly? You kind of enjoyed this side of him more than you ever thought that you would.

He let out a groan when you slid as much of him as you could into your mouth. One hand rubbing what you couldn’t get while you bobbed your head. The other arm holding his waist down to keep him from bucking his hips into your face.

You moaned around him as he buried the back of his head deeper and further into the pillow. “Kriff, y/n, ah, stars, I’m so..” He lasted longer than you thought. Hollowing your cheeks and taking more of him in. Soon he was cuming into your mouth, and there was nothing either of you could do about it. Not that you really mind.

He let out the loudest noise yet. Eyes snapping shut and face contorted as you milked him dry. Pulling off him with a ‘pop.’ Swallowing all except for a little that dripped down the corned of your mouth. Though you just wiped that off with your thumb.

He looked so exhausted just from a blowjob, and you weren’t sure what to do now. Should you move, touch him, go in the other room, throw a blanket over him? What now?

“Lay next to me,” He murmured. Voice soft and tired. “But won’t that bug you?” “Just lay next to me, please, you help me calm.” He spoke through half lidded eyes. So you did. Climbing over to lie next to the other. Facing him and he pulled you over to his chest. Arms, well, whole body trembling like he was coming down from a sugar high. “Just, give me sec and then I’ll make you wish we had the whole night to ourselves.” He mumbled, and that made you smile and giggle. Kissing his cheek with a small hum. “I’m sure you will.”

#bad batch x reader #star wars #star wars writing #the bad batch #the clone wars #writing #bad batch hunter #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #the bad batch hunter #hunter the bad batch #hunter bad batch #bad batch hunter x reader

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fishtre · 3 years

Note

What's your opinion of Jason's Red Hood black and white outfit with the cape and red pill-shaped helm-mask-very Freudian shaped thingie on his head? I know he was being a dramatic hoe and a supervillain at the time, but I just see Dick, Tim and Damien doubled over laughing, pointing and wheezing at the sight of that fashion disaster.

Hu-uh- Totally, but Tim and Dick being alive and active during the 90's to early 00's means they can't make fun of anyone’s fashion sense. ( ¬‿¬ ) ✧

As for my opinion, the TLDR is that it’s not a good design for Jason.

There’s nothing easier to draw than a skin-tight outfit, just like drawing a helmet is easier than drawing a face with hair. Now easy don't always equate fun, but that's very subjective and it’s not why I think this outfit is bad.

The reason why I think it's not a good design is because ; context and questionable intents.

That design doesn't fit what was previoulsy established about the character, but perfectly ilustrates how after UTRH, Jason suddenly went from disillusioned to delusional off panels.

You said the magic word, anon : supervillain.

We're post UTRH then, and what did that comic establish about Jason? That Jason's not a cape. Simple as that. Jason thinks Batman or his methods (and thus any other bats), are out of touch with reality. He is very sufficient toward them; this disillusioned cynical who wear pants and not tights, a jacket and not a cape, a helmet and not a mask, etc... One glance at his design in UTRH and anyone can tell Jason’s neither part of Batman’s crew, nor is he part of Gotham’s more colorful rogues.

Jason is literally this too-down-to-earth nerd who bully Batman because he's a comic book character who operates under comic book logic. Ironically Jason’s gray morals makes him a very versatile character, but DC still went with the only direction that was in complete contradiction with his motivations or background. Which is super impressive, in a morbid sort of way.

Last grip with the design: the creatives' intents. Because, again, context.

The way Jason read and is framed as in that arc feels ill-intentioned toward the character. The red pill-helmet is very different from the Batman Ninja’s basket head for this.

In BN, the design is in accord with the character, the setting, and the tone of the story. Here, the helmet and cape is a reference to a Red Hood design that Joker once wear in some versions. That’s it. The intents is to associate Jason with the Joker's imagery (whereas UTRH red hood design avoid this altogether). Here, Jason just pulled a 180° in term of characterization off panels so he can be Bat!Dick's Joker. Something-you become the monster you hunt- something.

Meaning: The outfit isn't designed to fit the character. But the character is changed/twisted to fit the new design/direction.

It either intentionally betrays the material that established the character, or show a complete misunderstanding of the character.

RH!Jason isn't obsessed about the Joker or being the better Batman. That’s a hot take that appeared after, strangely coincide with the starts of Jason’s character assassination. UTRH Jason isn’t a Joker’s rogue. He’s a Batman’s rogue. Jason's obsessed to determine if his partnership/relationship with Batman meant as much as it meant to Jason, or if Jason was a fool all along. Joker is just a tool/plot device Jason use to get back at Batman. It’s a duel between Jason’s logic (an eye for an eye, a death for a death) versus Batman’s. In a way, the way the story is set already admits Jason knows Bruce’s ideology is more important here, and crushes Jason last hope to be proven wrong in the ending.

Red pill Hood has no such nuance and brings nothing fun on the table unless you get off on hating Jason. BatDick, Robin!Tim or Damian would have profited from facing a ennemy or rival like UTRH!Jason.

Or maybe what ultimately culminated into Red pill Hood; the pathetic villain who can’t even escape prison on his own when it’s Gotham’s rogue 101, the rotten apple all-along, the failure robin in the wrong for betraying/criticizing the Bat’s creed, is the bad guy or mirror image theses characters deserve. Idk.

So, anon, if you’re still there lmao, you perfectly summed it: "the other Robins should have laugh, finger pointing at Jason for wearing this”. Like they're all mean kindergarteners.

I think it's very much what this design was supposed to inspire to the readers at the time. I think the outfit was meant to make Jason looks as unhinged and ridiculous as the character had been made to sound then.

Jason had this long character assassination period post-UTRH and this design/relooking is an iconic part of that era.

The minute DC tried to salvage red-head Jason (a change of staff was involved), Jason got a redesign that took inspiration from Red pill Hood. But everything about it, looks and characterization, was less vile. I still dislike that iteration because it's a follow up to this post-UTRH assassination and has red-hair. But if I forget that for a hot minute, we now had a character whose only purpose wasn't just to wanks the bats or some petty fanboys’ ego, but to be an actual antagonist, and DC forbid it, a fun villain/anti-villain.

#reply #that was cathartic to write #thks for asking anon #always my pleasure to butcher english lmao

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cdelphiki · 4 years

Text

“Fuck.”

Jason’s spoon clanked into his bowl, as he dropped it and fumbled for the remote. He’d been watching Jeopardy! with the volume low. Half the fun of the game was answering the questions himself, and really, the idiots on the show were often just distracting.

But Jeopardy! wasn’t on the screen anymore.

The Joker was.

The Joker and the current Robin.

“—play a game, shall we?” Joker said, and Jason just cursed louder as he tossed his cereal on the coffee table and jumped up.

“Hrnn,” Robin groaned, when the camera panned to him, “Who’d want to play with you?”

Fucking brat.

The poor kid looked in rough shape. His mask was slightly ripped, showing off a massive bruise right under one of his eyes. His fat lip and the blood trickling down his chin didn’t help much, either.

Oh, yeah. And the fact he was tied up and inside a tiny little cage.

How the hell had Joker got his hands on Robin?

Never mind, Jason thought, as he kicked around the shit on his floor, freeing the various pieces of his Red Hood uniform, he knew exactly how Robin got himself captured.

Batman was out of town.

And he’d left Robin in charge of Gotham.

Like a fucking moron.

“Uh, uh uh,” Joker said, “That’s no way to behave. Be a good little birdy.”

Robin groaned, when Joker stuck a stick inside Robin’s cage, and jabbed him in the side. He pressed a button, and Tim’s groan turned to a scream as he was electrocuted.

Jason grimaced.

“Now,” Joker continued, through a laugh, “The answer is ‘Topeka.’”

Joker’s stupid fucking laugh.

Jason should not be helping the bats.

He did not help the bats. The bats hated him. And, sure, they had good reason to, but it just meant Jason shouldn’t be helping them out of principle!

Why help people who hate your guts and wish you were still dead?

The bats are out of town, his mind helpfully reminded him, they can’t save Robin. And like hell was Jason going to let Joker kill another Robin.

“Shit,” he mumbled, as he grabbed his helmet and shoved it on his head. All he needed was his guns, now.

“Come now, Robin,” Joker said, “You’re disappointing the viewers at home.”

“No, you’re disappointing the viewers,” Jason snapped, as he placed three guns into his holsters, and grabbed his spare magazines, checking to make sure each was full. “No one wants to watch the fucking Joker fuck with a little kid.”

Even if that little kid was Tim Drake. And annoying as fuck.

The camera zoomed back on Robin’s face, and Robin finally mumbled out, “Capital of Kansas.”

Robin screamed, again, when Joker jabbed him with the shock stick, and Jason growled.

He grabbed his tablet and hacked into the batcomputer in record time. He wasn’t sure if Bruce knew he could still do that, but at the moment he was fucking glad he hadn’t been caught yet.

“You didn’t phrase your answer in the form of a question! Haven’t you ever watched Jeopardy!? That’s what the good folks want right now.”

“Fuck, kid,” Jason mumbled, as he triangulated a location on Robin’s tracker, “Where are you?”

Only Robin’s tracker was listed in Gotham, too. No one else was around. Not Alfred. Not Batgirl. No one.

Why the fuck did Bruce keep leaving Robin all alone?

Hadn’t he learned his lesson the first time?

Tim groaned on screen again, making Jason draw his gun and unload the full clip on the screen.

Shit.

His neighbors probably hated him.

“Where are you,” he growled at the tablet, just as Robin’s location finished loading.

Warehouse in Crime Alley.

Not even five blocks from Jason’s safe house.

Good.

- - -

The Joker had almost no henchmen guarding his warehouse.

Usually Joker’s operations were more thought through. Right?

This time it was just pathetic.

How in the ever-loving-fuck had he got his hands on Robin, anyway?

It took Jason not even ten minutes to reach the warehouse, break in, and incapacitate all ten of his thugs. It took only another fifteen seconds to climb up into the rafters, into the main area where Joker was ‘filming’ with Robin.

“Now, Robin,” Joker said, his his annoying high pitched drawl, “You are down in the negatives. You need to get this next answer correct or—”

Jason didn’t let him finish the thought.

Because he shot the Joker in the ass.

“Shut the fuck up,” Red Hood snarled, as he dropped down from the rafters, right on top of Joker, “No one cares as much as you think.”

“Hood,” Joker said, grinning wide, despite all the blood leaking out of him.

Or, well. Not much. Jason should shoot him again.

Robin would get all high and mighty, if Jason actually killed Joker.

Fucking hell.

“How nice of you to drop by!” Joker said, laughing, “We could use a second contestant.”

Yeah. Sure.

Jason brought his elbow down into Joker’s face. Hard. Breaking his nose and knocking him flat out.

“How disappointing,” Jason said, as he stood up and turned toward Robin, “That wasn’t nearly as satisfying as shooting him in the face would have been.”

Robin stayed laying there, where he was, curled up in his cage, clutching his stomach tight.

Whistling, Jason crossed the room and tried to get Tim’s attention. “Yo. Half-pint, you all right there?”

Tim didn’t react, other than to curl up tighter when Jason approached the cage and put a hand on one of the bars.

“Shit,” he mumbled, “Okay, kid. I’ll get you out.”

Ridiculously, it took longer to figure out a way to get Tim out of the cage.

He tried to pry the fucking lock open with a crowbar he found laying around…

Joker and his fucking crowbars.

But the lock wouldn’t budge, and the stupid replacement Robin kept flinching every time Jason got too near. Which, should have probably made Jason feel bad.

If he were, like, a good person.

Instead it just pissed him off enough that he grabbed the crowbar and started bashing it against the lock, until the damn thing fell off.

“Okay,” Jason said as he opened the cage door, “Tell me what the damage is, kid.”

Robin didn’t respond, so Jason reached in and placed one gloved hand on his shoulder. All he was going to do was shake it, a little. Just to make sure the kid was alive. And like, just out of it.

But apparently Robin was super out of it, because instead of growl at him or snap some dumbass quip, he jumped up and punched Jason right in the stomach.

“Fuck,” he huffed. The little sucker packed a mean one, but he was too damn out of it for it to do more than make Jason wince. “The fuck, kid? Knock it off.”

Tim jumped up, however, on top of the cage, then wobbled there as he tried to right his balance. The second Jason tried to reach out to him, to catch him before he toppled over, or some shit, Tim pulled out a couple of his stupid R shaped throwing stars and started throwing them.

“Shit,” Jason growled, as he dodged, “Kid, knock it off.”

“What do you want?” Robin asked, and with that, apparently reached the end of his spike of adrenaline.

Because the next thing Jason knew, Robin was falling off the cage bars he’d been perched on, and Jason had barely enough time to dive the few feet between them and catch the stupid runt before he landed on the concrete ground, head first.

“Get off me,” Robin demanded, thrashing about in Jason’s hold.

All it made Jason do was squeeze his arms around Tim tighter.

“Stop,” Tim said, his voice getting a little more desperate, “Get off.”

“Ow,” Jason complained, when Tim kicked him in the knee, “Would you knock it off. Am I hurting you?”

Tim stilled, for a second, and seemed to evaluate the situation. Jason was still holding onto him, but he loosed his arms a little.

“No?” Tim asked, like he wasn’t sure if that were the correct answer, or something.

Stupid brat. And they accused Jason of shooting first, asking questions later.

“Then why the fuck are you fighting me?” Jason demanded.

“You’re…” Tim said, then paused as he put a hand up to his head. Shit. Jason needed to get him back to a safe house and checked out.

Letting go of Tim completely, Jason set him down and maneuvered, so he was kneeling in front of the stupid runt. He put a hand on Tim’s head and forced his head back, a little, so Jason could get a good look at it. He could see one of Tim’s eyes, due to his mask having so much damage on it, and it looked like Tim was at least making eye contact.

Or, at least. As much eye contact as he could when Jason was wearing a helmet.

“You’re the Red Hood?” Tim finally answered.

Jason merely huffed. “Yeah. And you’re the boy hostage. Where are you hurt?”

“What?” Tim demanded, “Why do you care?” and Jason rolled his eyes.

“Like I’m gonna let Joker kill you. That’s my job.”

Okay.

Wrong thing to say.

Because Tim’s eye grew wide, and he shuffled backward, out of Jason’s reach, kicking his feet.

Jason tried to grab his feet, to make him stop, but Tim kept kicking, and got Jason right in the ribs.

“Ouch, stop it. I was kidding.” Tim got him on the chin, and Jason snapped, “Just stop. I’m trying to help you.”

“Why,” Tim demanded, as Jason finally caught one of his legs and held it up high enough that Tim lost his balance.

It was kind of amusing, how Tim landed on his back, and just groaned.

“Why’s there gotta be a reason?” he asked, “Maybe I don’t want to see another Robin die!”

“You beat me near to death like two minutes ago,” Tim shouted, pulling at his foot, and not succeeding in freeing himself.

Because Jason was standing, and Tim was short. It would be no trouble at all for Jason to just lift Tim right up off the ground entirely by his leg.

“It’s been four months, stop being dramatic.”

“You expect me to believe you’ve changed enough since then that it matters?” Tim demanded, just as he pulled another throwing star out and threw it at Jason.

Too bad for Tim, Jason saw it coming a mile away. And just caught it.

“Yep!” he cheered, “You done now? You’re, like, super out if it and your fight sucks. If you couldn’t tell.”

Robin mumbled something Jason didn’t catch, so Jason dropped his foot, and tried not to grin too wide when Tim groaned when his body hit the ground.

He didn’t fall too far.

And Jason was sure his head and upper back had been on the ground, already, before he let go.

“Can you walk on your own?” he asked.

Once Tim stopped being all dramatic about everything, he grumbled out a, “No,” so Jason knelt down next to him and offered a hand, to help Tim sit up.

Tim glared at him with so much derision, it risked making Jason laugh.

Instead, all he said was, “Then stop fucking fighting me and let me help.”

“Fine,” Tim snapped, lifting an arm up so Jason could wrap it around Jason’s shoulders, “But if you try anything, I’m calling for Superman.”

“Whatever,” Jason said, as he hefted Tim to his feet, and started making toward the warehouse exit, “Just shut up and let me get you out of here.”

Tim was in pretty rough shape.

Jason already knew that, of course, but it became even more obvious as they made their way back to Jason’s safe house.

Mostly because Jason did all the fucking work.

Tim’s left leg was obviously fucked up. Jason was a little glad he hadn’t held that leg up in the air, because then he’d feel guilty.

And that wasn’t it. He kept clutching at his stomach, and Jason was willing to bet there was at least some pretty bad burns there from all the zapping.

Dragging Tim’s ass up the side of Jason’s building was easy, of course. But annoying. Because Jason had to hold onto Tim tight, because the stupid brat’s grip kept loosening whenever Jason jostled him too much.

“Shit kid,” Jason mumbled, as he pushed Tim through the window to his safe house, “I can’t believe Bruce leaves his fucking kid all alone to protect Gotham when he’s out of town.”

Because, seriously.

This was ridiculous.

Tim was fucked up. And it was all Bruce’s fault.

“M’not his kid,” Tim mumbled, as he stumbled a few feet inside Jason’s safe house, over to the couch. He collapsed down with an oof.

Jason rolled his eyes and closed the window behind him, after he jumped inside. “You are too a kid,” he said, unsnapping his helmet and tossing it down on the ground, “You’re like, thirteen.”

Tim followed Jason with his eyes, even as he sank into the couch a little more, and said, “I’m fifteen. And I said I’m not his kid.”

“Fifteen!” Jason shouted, tossing his gloves on the ground. His safe house was pretty small, so his kitchen was his living room. And he, thankfully, had a pretty good first aid kit sitting in the cabinet under his sink. “That’s how old I was. And obviously I meant his son, you idiot.”

“I’m not his son either,” Tim said.

Jason paused, as he was pulling his kit out, and looked up over the counter at the little brat.

“He didn’t adopt you?”

Hadn’t Talia said….?

How the fuck was he even Robin?

“No,” Tim exclaimed, “I have a dad.”

Is that why Bruce was more lenient on Tim? Because he wasn’t his son?

Bruce never let Jason out of his fucking sight as Robin.

He’d thought that was because he didn’t trust Jason, and clearly he trusted Tim.

But was it maybe because he’d adopted….

Nope. Not thinking about this.

“And he lets you run around with the bats?” Jason asked, finally crossing back over to Tim and slamming the first aid kit down on the coffee table.

Tim jumped, but then scowled at Jason and said, “It’s not like he can stop me.”

“Seriously, kid?”

“Look. It’s none of your business. Are you gonna let me go?”

In that state? Not bloody likely.

But instead of say that, and get Robin all fighty again, Jason said, “I’m not keeping you prisoner, but let me look at your injuries.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but sank back down into the couch and mumbled, “I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” Jason said, pointing toward the stomach Tim was still clutching, “lemme see.”

It took a second of Tim glaring, but he finally relented and lifted his shirt, and Jason could only wince in sympathy.

“Damn, Timbo,” he said, looking at the criss crossing scorch marks littering his abdomen, “Those look fun. I’ve got some burn cream that should help.”

Jason worked on Tim’s injuries in silence for a good ten minutes. He had so many burns, Jason kind of wanted to go back and shoot Joker in the ass again, just for inflicting them.

And maybe go find Bruce and shoot him in the ass, for leaving Tim all alone for this to happen in the first place.

“That one needs stitches,” Jason said, after he’d pulled Tim’s sleeves up, inspecting his arms for any more burns to treat. Instead, he found a jagged knife wound, that was still oozing a little. “Did you think you could hide it from me?”

Tim pulled his arm closer to himself, and mumbled, “S’not that bad.”

Jason rolled his eyes, and pulled out his suture kit. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Amazingly, Tim didn’t fight him at all, when he took his arm back and started cleaning the wound enough so he could apply the local anesthetic and start stitching it up.

Instead, all Tim did was stare at him, a little blankly.

It was actually unnerving.

“What?” he snapped.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you,” Jason scoffed, readjusting his hold on Tim’s arm so he could get the last few stitches in straight, “I’m not letting Joker kill another Robin.”

And, sure. Stitching the kid up and treating all his burns was going a little above and beyond.

But Jason would feel a little bad if he, like, bled to death or whatever.

“Yeah,” Tim said, blinking hard as he ran his free hand through his hair, “But like, you coulda just took him out and left. Why’re you— ow.”

“Whoops,” Jason said, bearing his teeth a little as he grinned at the accidental needle prick he gave Tim outside the numbed area, “Are you seriously complaining? Don’t you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

Tim was rich, wasn’t he? Weren’t they taught that shit, too?

Jason was pretty sure Bruce never let him be ungrateful about gifts. Not that Jason would, of course. But even Bruce Wayne taught his kids to be thankful for what they had…

Then again. Tim apparently wasn’t Bruce’s kid…

“When that gift horse tries to kill us every other week, no,” Tim said.

“Shut up,” Jason scoffed, “I haven’t messed with you idiots in months.”

Which was, absolutely, completely, 89% true.

He hadn’t attempted anything fatal on them in months. Fucked with their cases for the laughs? Maybe.

Mostly just Bruce’s. When it didn’t get anyone hurt, of course.

Just because it was fun to fuck with Bruce.

Because fuck Bruce.

“Yeah, but— ow.”

Jason might have stabbed him again.

“All done,” he said, before Tim could get out whatever it was he was going to protest, “Congratulations, you’ll survive. You can sleep here. I’m burning the safe house tomorrow, though.”

He’d shot the TV. So it was pretty useless now, anyway.

“Next time you get captured by the Joker, I’m shooting you in the ass, got it?”

“Yeah,” Tim said, rolling his eyes as he settled back on the couch a little more comfortably, “Whatever.”

Jason watched as Tim pulled his legs up and clearly just… collapsed there. To sleep. And rolled his eyes even harder.

Like that would be comfortable.

On his way to the window, after he’d put his helmet back on, Jason grabbed the blanket and pillow from under the coffee table and threw it right at Tim’s head.

Tim scowled, but did readjust himself so he looked at least slightly more comfortable.

Satisfied, Jason nodded and said, “Kay. Tell Bats I said fuck him. Later, squirt.”

“Thanks, Jason,” Tim mumbled, just as Jason was slipping out of the window.

Heh. The runt wasn’t so bad, after all.

Maybe.

But Jason was not going to make a habit of this. No way.

If he did, he’d have to go shoot Batman in the ass, for letting his stupid little Robin get hurt.

That would be fun, actually.

#whumptober2020 #no.4 #caged #batman #batfam #red hood #robin #tim drake #jason todd #c writes #fanfiction #injuries #hurt/comfort #batbros #cross posted to ao3

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 11

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

As soon as I walked into the veterinarian office, I felt it. Like a total drain of my muscles and my head started to hurt.

“Mountain ash.” Dr. Deaton said as he came out from around the corner, “It weakens werewolf abilities so they cannot shift their form.”

“That would explain it.” I smiled, shoving my hands in my pockets.

“How can I help you, (Y/N).” He knew my name.

I squinted at him, “Have we met?”

“We have, but you wouldn’t remember. You were here with some minor injuries and your parents weren’t sure if you were going to turn and just in case…the hospital found something interesting.” He said, a small smile on his face, “But I see you have finally turned.”

I nodded, “Yeah, but I don’t know how.”

“I believe I may have an answer.” He pulled out a book from the front desk. It was a dark leather bound book, its pages were brown with age.

“It was a spell used by werewolf clans that were being hunted hundreds of years ago, in France, Scotland, England. In some cases, werewolf hunters would test werewolves in their human form with Mountain ash, rendering them unconscious. Et obscuratus lupum. Wolf Eclipse.” I looked at the book, seeing a drawing of what looked like a child, half human, half wolf.

“Parents would perform this spell to cloak their child from hunters. The Mountain ash wouldn’t affect them and they would be spared and safe until they could transform. This spell would also remove any memories of werewolf behavior from beyond that point so they couldn’t give away the rest of the clan by accident.”

I looked down at the desk, “But why now? Why did I turn now? And why am I an alpha? I’ve never killed anyone.”

“As for your turning now, many children are given back their power by their parents. Or if their parents were killed, they usually don’t unless something triggers the change - high stress, fear, terror, torture. But I can’t explain the alpha part, the only people who could were your parents.”

“Derek? Derek!” Isaac’s voice echoed through the building.

“What’s wrong?” Derek turned away from what he was doing. Isaac looked frantic and scared.

“My dad… I think he’s dead…”

“What did you do?” Derek asked firmly.

“That’s the thing…It wasn’t me.”

I woke up on the couch. Not the best place to sleep all night.

I sat up and cracked my back, twisting from side to side. I shuffled into the kitchen, seeing Uncle Noah already there.

“Morning, kiddo.” He said, sipping his coffee. He went with the dark roast this morning. Bitter. Something serious had happened.

“Morning.”

“We found Lydia, I don’t know if you heard.” He said.

I nodded, “Of course, talk of the town. Stiles is gonna get an A in economics.”

He shook his head, a small smile on his face. He was still slightly sleepy, meaning I could probably get something out of him about what’s making him leave this early.

“What’s going on?”

He yawned and raised his eyebrows. He looked around the corner then back to me, “Promise you won’t tell Stiles. And I’m only telling you because it involves one of your players.”

“Isaac?” I asked, “Is he okay?” Uncle Noah narrowed his eyes at me, clearly confused how I knew.

“I had my own questions about his home life. A guess.”

“Well we found his dad dead this morning. Mauled to death in his car in an alleyway.”

“Mauled?” Great… This is exactly what we needed with this hunter situation going around. Didn’t Derek tell Isaac that humans were off limits, especially right now? Isaac didn’t seem like the type, but if he was getting abused, maybe he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Yeah, not pretty. Oh, by the way.” He rifled through the mail, “This came for you at the station.” It was a brown envelope. It had multiple stamps and postmarks. The text was written in old English calligraphy.

“The Lunar Circle.” I shook my head, “Never heard of it.” I looked at the return address, “Scotland?”

“I guess so.” He looked at his watch, “Alright, gotta go.” He kissed the top of my head, making his way out the door.

I got into the locker room later than usual, but in time to watch Scott and Stiles stare at a chain that was falling out of Stiles’ locker. Coach walked between the two of them, staring at the chain as it finished pooling on the floor.

“Part of me wants to ask… the other part says knowing will be more disturbing than anything I could ever imagine. So, I’m gonna walk away.” Before I could speak to the two, Coach slipped the blind fold onto my eyes, the elastic slapping the back of my head.

“Good looking out.” I nodded vaguely in his direction. Stiles shoved a bag in my hands, Scott and Stiles started shoving the chain into it and froze, Scott tensed up.

Another scent. Someone like us.

“There’s another in here.” Scott said.

“Another what?” Stiles asked.

“Another werewolf.”

Once the players were on the field, Stiles pulled me aside.

“Alright, switch Scott with Danny for goal and then you use your sniffer on the guys on the bench.”

I raised my eyebrows at him, still not over what he said the other day.

He stared for a minute, then closed his eyes, “The silent treatment, really?”

I smiled slyly, nodding.

“Oh my god.” He groaned, “Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to protect me. I get it. We can have this conversation later, please.”

I thought about it for a minute, then nodded, “Fine. I’ll go tell Coach.” I found Finstock and told him.

“Why would I want McCall in goal? McCall is co-captain. He needs to play offense.”

“That’s true, but what happens when Danny gets hurt during a match. Are you gonna put in someone from second line or someone with those reflexes?” He stared for a minute, thinking about what I just said.

“Think about it like this. Danny’s out, it’s tied and we are ten seconds from overtime. Who are you putting in? Second line or McCall.”

He nodded and chuckled, “Good thinking.” He turned back to the other players and blew his whistle, “Let’s go! Line up!” Players made their way onto the field, “Faster! Make daddy proud.” Daddy… I hate it. I scanned the line up, there was number fourteen at the end - Isaac.

Coach blew the whistle again, signaling the drills to start. Scott ran from the goal, tackling the player. Scott was many things. Subtle was not one of them.

“McCall!” Coach shouted, his eyes wide and his hair seemed even wilder.

“Yeah?”

“Usually, the goalie stays somewhere within the vicinity of the actual goal.”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Let’s try it again!”

“What the hell, man?” The player shouted. His name was… Matt Daehler if I remembered correctly.

Coach blew the whistle again, throwing another ball into play. Again, Scott knocked the next player down.

“McCall!” Coach called again, “The position’s goalkeeper, not goal-abandoner!’

“Sorry, Coach…”

“Let’s go!” He blew the whistle. Again, Scott knocked the next man down.

“Stiliniski!” Coach pulled Stiles up by his helmet. Stiles stood up from the bench on the other side of me, “What the hell is wrong with your friend?”

“Uh, he’s failing two classes, he’s a little socially awkward, and if you look close enough, his jawline is kinda uneven.” Stiles said in a rush.

Coach and I turned heads to the side, looking at McCall. Was his jaw always crooked? Had I not noticed in all of this time?

“That’s interesting.” He said, dropping Stiles' helmet. Scott knocked over Danny next, landing on top of him. Danny was having a good year so far.

“McCall!” Coach shouted, clearly frustrated, “You come out of that goal one more time, and you’ll be doing suicide runs ‘til you die! It’ll be the first ever suicide run that actually ends in a suicide! Got it?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Yeah!” Coach glared.

Jackson looked at Scott warily, “Uh, Coach, my shoulder’s hurting… I’m gonna-I’m gonna sit this one out…” He watched out of the line and onto the bench. What’s gotten into him? Besides not the bite. Scott ran forward at Isaac. But instead of Scott taking him down, they both collided and fell to the ground. That’s when I saw Scott pause, he found his werewolf.

“Dad?” Stiles asked. I turned around, seeing Uncle Noah and two other officers heading towards the field. They must have been coming to bring Isaac in for questioning.

“Don’t tell them…Please don’t tell him.” I heard Isaac say.

I stayed back with the rest of the team while Finstock was talking to Uncle Noah. Scott was listening in on the conversation.

“His father’s dead. They think he was murdered.” Scott said.

Stiles looked at me, “Is that what you and my dad were talking about this morning?”

“There may have been something Uncle Noah told me not to tell you.” I grinned innocently.

“Come on…” Stiles sighed, “Are they saying he’s a suspect?”

“I’m not sure. Why?”

“Because they can lock him in a holding cell for twenty-four hours…”

“Like, overnight?”

“Those generally are the same amount of time, yes.” I said.

“During the full moon.” The full moon. Not only would it be Isaac’s first turn, it was going to be mine.

“Crap.” I mumbled.

“How good are these holding cells at holding people?”

“People? Good. Werewolves? Probably not that good.” Stiles said grimly.

“Stiles, remember when I said I don’t have the urge to maim and kill?”

“Yeah…”

“He does.” How Scott could tell that, I couldn’t tell. Because I didn’t get that vibe.

I made my way through the hall, seeing Uncle Noah in the hall outside the principal's office.

“What’s going on?” I asked, not seeing Isaac near.

“We’re interviewing Jackson Whittemore. He’s Isaac’s neighbor, we’re just trying to see if he knows anything. I’m just waiting to meet the new principal.”

“New principal?” I asked. Right after I spoke, the door opened. And there stood Gerard Argent. I tried to hide my shock when I saw him, since the last time I saw him I watched him cut someone in half.

“Sheriff Stilinski, I’m terribly sorry to keep you waiting. Just a phone call from one of my teachers.” He said in his brogue, he turned to me, “And Miss (Y/N), assistant coach for our lacrosse team. I have been anxious to meet you.” He held out his hand. Oh, he was anxious? Yeah definitely.

I blinked, a small smile on my face, “It’s good to meet you as well. I apologize for my shock, I was not aware that you had been hired.” I shook his hand. His hands felt cold, like the ice in his heart spread through his veins.

“I understand. It was quite unexpected. But I am excited to get started.” He played his role well. An older man happy to help and be accommodating to his new surroundings. I knew the truth though, and it terrified me. But I needed to lay low and stay on his good side for right now. He declared war, no longer following the code and Chris couldn’t stop him like he stopped Kate.

“Of course. I’m excited to work with you too, Mr…?”

“Argent.”

“Oh like Allison. She’s such a sweet girl, I always see her at games.”

“She became a fan.” He nodded. In the distance, I could hear Jackson’ walking down the hall. How did I know it was Jackson? His brand new shoes squeaked.

“Well, I gotta head out. Delivery came to the front office for the team. Pearls and crosses. It was good meeting you, Principle Argent.”

“Please, call me Gerard.” He smiled.

I grinned and nodded, “Gerard.” I looked at Uncle Noah, “I’ll see you tonight.” I made my way towards the front office, glad that the hunter couldn’t hear my heart beating out of my chest.

“You okay?” Derek’s voice echoed in my head.

I sighed, taking a deep breath, “No. They took Isaac into lock up, Gerard is the principal, and I am going to turn tonight whether I want to or not and I’m scared.”

“We’ll talk.”

I sat on the front steps, looking over the envelope. The Lunar Circle. Was this something my parents were involved in? Just as I was about to open the envelope, I got a text from Scott to meet him and Derek at Isaac’s house.

So I met them there, looking up at the sky. I had already cracked all of my knuckles so now I just was wearing a hole in my shoe from tapping.

“Are you alright?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know, Scott, were you okay when you turned the first time? Because I can recall you almost killing me the last time.” My eyes flashing red.

“Hey, I apologized for that.” Scott defended himself.

“(Y/N), look at me.” Derek stood in my line of vision. The red left my eyes and I sighed.

“Sorry, I’m just… anxious.” I clenched and unclenched my hands.

We snuck into the Lahey household, making our way down to the basement.

“If Isaac didn’t kill his father, who did?” Scott asked as Derek led us through the house. Derek moved slowly, keeping a flashlight beam ahead.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Then how do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“Because I trust my senses. And it’s a combination of them.” He looked at Scott over his shoulder, “Not just your sense of smell.”

“You saw the lacrosse thing today?” Scott asked sheepishly.

“So you saw him tackle and sniff everyone on the field, his big plan.” I added.

“Yeah.” Derek said plainly.

“Did it look bad?”

“Yeah.” Derek and I said together. Derek opened the door and we all looked down to the bottom of the basement, Scott and Derek’s eyes lit up the space a little, enough to see what was below. There were the usual things - chairs, dust bunnies, boxes.

“You wanna learn?” Derek asked, “Start now.”

“What’s down there?”

“Motive.” We started down the stairs.

“And what are we looking for?”

“Follow your senses.” Derek said. I strayed from the group, seeing dust covered toys and games, covered with age and gray. It looked like a normal basement, but it felt like something terrible had happened here. Derek took my hand in his, pulling me back to them.

“What happened down here?” Scott asked.

“The kind of thing that leaves an impression.” Derek said in a low voice. It was kind of creepy, in addition to the spider web covered basement. As we went further into the basement, we saw chains hanging from the wall. My heart sank. I took Derek’s flashlight and lit up the floor, there were groove marks in the floor. Scott bent down and placed his fingers within the groove. Scratches in the cement floor. My attention was brought to a large freezer in the corner of the with a rusted padlock. The energy radiating from the cooler made my heart drop into my stomach.

“Open it.” Derek told Scott as we stood in front of it. Scott took off the lock and lifted up the lid of the freezer. My mouth fell open in shock, tears burning at my eyes. Scratch marks, covering the entire inside of the freezer. The worst were the rust covered marks, meaning that Isaac was so desperate to fight his way to freedom that his fingers bled. I turned away from the freezer, feeling nauseous. Leaning over, my hands on my knees.

“This is why he said yes to you?” Scott asked.

“Everyone wants power.”

“If I help you, you have to stop. You can’t just go around turning people into werewolves!” Scott had a point. It was dangerous to be a werewolf right now. That’s why my parents did that ritual on me.

“I can if they’re willing.”

“Did you tell Isaac about the Argents? About being hunted?”

“Yes, and he still asked.”

“Then he’s an idiot!” Scott shouted.

I stood back up and stared at Scott, “An idiot? He’s been tortured his whole life, Scott, and he’s the idiot for trying to save himself.” There was a growl in my voice as my anger rose. Derek put a hand on my arm.

“You’re the idiot dating Argent’s daughter.” Scott looked shocked at Derek’s words, “Yeah, I know your little secret. And if I know, how long do you think it’s gonna take for them to find out?”

Derek grabbed Scott by the shoulder, “You saw what happens to an omega. With me, you learn how to use all your senses. With me, you learn control.” He lifted Scott’s clawed hand, “Even on a full moon.” Seeing Scott’s hands, I lifted mine and saw the claws had grown in. I hadn’t even felt them come out.

Scott pulled his hand away, “If I’m with you, I lose her.”

“You’re gonna lose her anyway. You know that.”

I shook my head, thinking about the night Peter was killed. The look in Allison’s eyes as she shot arrows into Derek and I was cold, no emotion at all. “Scott, don’t you remember what happened? She shot us down.”

“That wasn’t her, that was Kate.” He defended her, like a love sick puppy.

“Was it? You didn’t get to see her when Kate brought her down to that cellar and watched as Derek got electrocuted, over and over. She did nothing to stop her, she knew it was wrong but she didn’t stop her. Allison’s loyalties are never going to be with us.” My voice was calm but the shaking was starting to take over. It felt like my chest was going to burst at any moment. Even my gums ached.

“Come on.” Derek said softly in my ear. He escorted me to the stairs, a gentle hand on the small of my back.

“Wait!” We turned back to face Scott, “I’m not part of your pack… but I want him out. He’s my responsibility too.”

“Why? Because he’s one of us?”

“Because he’s innocent.”

I sat in the parking lot of the Sheriff’s office, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel. I can’t do this. How can I help break Isaac out of jail when I can’t even keep myself in control. I shouldn’t be around people. I shouldn’t be around Stiles or anyone else in the deputy department. I jumped when I heard the knocking at my window. Derek and Stiles stood there, looking a little concerned. I opened my door and got out, sticking close to Derek. If anyone could stop me from attacking Stiles it was him.

“Okay. Now, the keys to every cell are in a password-protected lock-box in my father’s office. The problem is getting past the front desk.” Stiles stared at me like I was from Mars, “I gotta tell ya, I don’t think I’m going to get used to the red eyes anytime soon.”

“Yeah, me either.” My voice had a growl too, quickly shutting my mouth.

“Well, there goes plan A. Letting you distract the front desk.” I glanced inside, seeing a woman sitting there, sipping her coffee.

“I’ll distract her.” Derek said, turning towards the building.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s jacket and pulled him back., “You? You’re going in there?” Derek eyed Stiles hand, then Stiles, telling him to get his hands off of him in his usual way - without words.

“I’m takin’ my hand off.” Stiles quickly pulled his hand away.

“I was exonerated.”

“You’re still a person of interest.”

“An innocent person.”

“Ah-” Stiles blew out air, “You? Yeah right.” He sighed, “What’s your plan?”

“To distract her.” Derek said impatiently.

Stiles nodded, “Ahuh, how? By punching her in the face?”

Derek let out a fake laugh, “By talking to her.”

“Is he even charming?” Stiles looked at me. Derek looked at me expectantly while I thought for a minute.

“Compared to when I first met him, he’s very charming.” I smiled awkwardly.

Stiles rubbed his temples, “Okay. Alright. Give me a sample. What are you gonna open with?” Derek only stared.

“Dead silence. That should work beautifully. Any other ideas?” Stiles asked sarcastically.

“I’m thinking about punching you in the face.” Derek said snidely. Once Stiles agreed, we made our way towards the station but before we went in, I pulled Derek aside.

“I can’t do this.” I looked up at the moon, “My body feels like it's going to fall apart and I feel so angry and-”

“Just hold out a little longer.” He placed a hand on my cheek, “As soon as we get Isaac out, I’m gonna bring you somewhere where you can let it all out and you won’t hurt anyone. But right now I need you to get inside and make sure nothing happens to Isaac. There’s a hunter in there who’s going to kill him.”

“Okay, I’ll try.”

Derek led the way into the station, Stiles and I stayed low to avoid the deputy.

“Good evening, how can I help-” She paused, looking up at Derek, “you?”

Derek gave her a thousand watt smile, “Hi.”

“Hi.” The woman said with a little tremble in his voice. She leaned on the desk.

“Um, I had a question…” he chuckled, “Um, sorry, I-I’m a little thrown. I wasn’t expecting someone…”

“Like me?” She asked.

“Oh, I was going to say ‘so incredibly beautiful’, but yeah, I guess that’d be the same thing.” Derek said sheepishly. Stiles stared at Derek’s back in disbelief. I shoved his side. He shook his head and we crawled down the hall to uncle Noah’s office.

Once inside, Stiles used a code on a keypad on the wall that opened a small hatch. It was empty inside. In the next room we heard the jingling of keys.

“Oh no…” Stiles and I ran towards the source of the noise, getting closer and closer to the cells. On our way there we were stopped short by a deputy.

“Oh, sorry,” Stiles apologized, “Just lookin’ um…” I looked over the deputy, then I saw it - an arrow sticking out of his leg. I hit Stiles' side. He looked down, then back up at the deputy.

“Ah shhh-'' We tried to run for it but he grabbed us, pressing his hands over our mouths so we couldn’t scream. I wanted to rip his hand off with my teeth but that would be putting Stiles in danger and outting myself as a werewolf to a hunter if he got away. As we were dragged back towards the cells, Stiles pulled the fire alarm.

Once in the cells, he threw Stiles and I into one of them. I clenched my fists together tightly, desperately trying not to turn. Sharp teeth poking at my lips. Stiles grabbed my arm, bringing my attention to the other cell, the empty cell. Isaac was loose. The hunter’s shout brought us back to see him being attacked by Isaac. He pinned the hunter to an examination table, then threw him against a wall. The hunter struggled but got up, trying to stab Isaac with a syringe but Isaac grabbed his arm and broke it. Isaac slammed the hunter’s head into the wall, he fell, dropping the syringe.

Derek came into the room shortly after, stepping on the syringe. The sound of glass breaking turned Isaac’s attention to us. His yellow eyes took us in, his fangs and claws sharp. He stalked forward towards us. I shoved Stiles behind me, baring my fangs at Isaac as he came closer. Derek’s roar broke Isaac out of his trance, making him fall to the floor and scramble to the corner. He looked up from the wall, looking more human. He was trembling in fear.

“How did you do that?” Stiles asked, trying to catch his break.

“I’m the alpha.” Derek smirked, his eyes red.

Ignoring the trembling the best I could, I walked over and kneeled beside Isaac. He was breathing heavily, eyes darting around the room like he was expecting someone to show up.

“Isaac.” his eyes focused on me, “Let’s get you home.” I smiled and held out my hand.

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

Read part 12 here!

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#derek hale x reader #derek hale fic #teen wolf x reader

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tribus-mantodea · 3 years

Photo

[ listen, ]

do I even want to talk about this dear lord. okay. my yearning channeled aside, I will say I was originally going to keep the photos under a read more but I liked how they came out. said images started off with a “maybe I won’t draw a bug today,” resulting in whatever this was. you can see I hate skin (/joke)

I’m not entiiirely settled on it but more or less:

horn helmets! notched accordingly as per the lords’ own horns in-game (they’re supposed to look the same I promise). birth order denoted in engravings and weird uh... necklace stuff

their hair is somewhat long/tied even if impractical because first, I like how it looks; second, I’m sure they aren’t so bad about it that it’d caught/be detrimental/whack someone in the face, right...; and third, I Like How It looks.

I also like the thought of them wearing scraps of what they’ve hunted in a not-too restricting way towards their agility. masks can probably be hooked onto their waists as well as slid underneath the front of the helm.

as for the ones with actual blades/claws, hand-held as usual but probably also affixable to steel(?) arm braces to ensure it stays... (???) would also free up their hands

concerning appearances, I tried to make them look ambiguous for the most part (albeit it’s been a hot while since I last drew any humans so uhh hoohghhg). just in case we’re touchin’ any body headcanons, yeah? granted I don’t have the fluidity for my own interpretations (though mine don’t stress over it much if at all)

now for something significantly worse: (crack)ship doodles for solely fun! well. I say that but I am tempted to finish them out,

(1) caption: herrah’s real name is merrah the beast at otome games because harrem..............

alt: homoerotic fighting tension.

(2) caption: Two Gals Chilling No Feet Apart Because They Can

#;;together we stand #;;firstborn #;;secondborn #;;thirdborn #;;lastborn #;;art #| 2021 #\\#[ and now I RUN. I run FAR AWAY ]

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caeloservare · 2 years

Note

⏰️

Memories meme

// It got out of hand. I’m not sorry at all c:

featuring @starfallandsilver because old piece of our plotting inspired it

“Come on, Jimmy. It might be fun, if you cheer up a little.” Mother licked fingers and stucked a strand from his forhead back into nearly combed and flat helmet she formed on his head.

“What it is with him again?” Father asked from the corridor, not even peeking into the room. He was busy gathering keys and all the other adult things he needed for stupid banquets. Like a folded handkerchief, James guessed.

“Mooom! It's uncomfy!” He protested, pulling at just as stupid edge of stupid shorts.

“Nothing, honey.” Sigrid ignored him and smiled warmly, answering Hideki's quesiton. “Just the usual.” Gently but firmly she steered James to the corridor, so he can start pulling his shoes on.

“Good. Let's get going then.” Hideki glanced pointedly at James, but waited, already dressed in a long coat.

James hated the banquets. There was literally nothing to do for children and he had to wear stupid shorts with stupid vest. Not to mention how his mother always made his hair glue to his head. He pouted all the way to the manor and he kept displaying how much he disliked the whole thing. He even firmly decided on biting whatever hands might try to pinch his cheeks, but apparently he was now manly enough that no one did that. Well, maybe it was just aunties mom invited that did that. He wasn’t sure.

The cake was awfully disappointing, but parents spared him eating the whole piece. It took establishing some careful conspiration, but they admitted that they didn’t like it either. Once he was dismissed to go play, he spotted his father sliding the cake into a flower pot muttering something about fertilizing. Mother swatted at his arm, but chuckled, while James ducked under the table. He expected having to wriggle around many legs and shoes, but what he didn’t expect was another boy hiding from the lights and boring talks. Winged boy.

“Hello.” James politely greeted, very much staring at the wings.

“Hello.” The boy seemed just as surprised at the meeting. James was quicker to catch the balance in new situation.

“I’m James. I’m almost nine!” He puffed with pride and outstretched left hand. It didn’t pass his mind that it might be the wrong one. Nor that “almost” isn’t the right term for being only a little above eight and half years old. “What’s your name?”

“Avros.” With some hesitation winged boy shook his hand, but said nothing more.

“Are those real?” He asked, pointing to the wings that folded a little closer to Avros’ back. The boy just stared for a moment before nodding and James couldn’t hold back: “That’s so cool! Like paintings!”

“What paintings?” Winged boy frowned.

“In the chapel mom took me to the other day. It was very boring, but there were paintings in the ceiling with people with wings. Like you! Can I touch them?”

“Uh, okay?” The boy seemed a little unsure about his wings, so James did his best to be very careful running finger down the feathers.

“Can you feel that?”

“Uh, y-yes.”

“Wow...” James fell silent, admiring the wings for a moment. “So can you fly?”

“A bit. I’m getting better at it!” It was Avros turn to puff with pride.

“Cool!” It took a moment of silence, before swapping the topic to more important things like favourite color or if the firefighters were cooler than the military. Both had loud cars with flashing lights, so it settled on draw. It was getting easier to chat with each moment, like they knew each other for a while, not just few minutes.

It didn’t take long until they got bored of sitting under the table and James offered an expedition around the manor. To his disappointment, only doors to the garden weren’t locked. It’s like someone knew the ball was most boring thing ever and wanted to keep the guests inside that one room. Well, the gardens then!

Garden were almost just at boring at first, but then they found a large spot behind a dried fountain where hay was temporarily stored. There were stacks and some loose hay, so they of course built a castle and then had to defend it from Grimms as a huntsmen. Of course it included dying, reviving and a lots of jumping between the stacks. Avros did fly, a little, but he did and even if it was cheating in jumping contest, it was impressive enough to pass. Especially when it costed him a scrapped knee. Which they cleaned with hay of course. That was a noble wound true huntsman would have, so it was okay.

Somewhere during their dangerous missions, James’ hit a stack with his face with enough force to knock a wobbly tooth out. It hurt because he bit his tongue to it, but he braved it and only sniffled once, since now it ment they’ll have gold from tooth fairy to buy new weapons and fight Grimm even better.

James didn’t notice when the afternoon passed, until evening started turning dark and cold. They kept playing on though, until his parents came to collect him. Only then it turned out that his shirt torn at the armpit and most importantly...

“Mom, I lost my tooth!” He complained, truly upset with his loss.

“What tooth, honey? Deciduous one?” She was squatting to give him full attention, but also to pluck some hay from the mess of his black hair. He only nodded trying not to cry. “These do fall out, Jimmy. Don’t worry, you’ll soon grow better ones, that do not fall out so easily.”

“But how will fairy know?” Without the tooth, there won’t be any lien to find in the morning and they won’t even buy popsicles with Avros, much less weapons to fight Grimms.

“Fairies are smart, they’ll know.” His father provided with a mysterious smile and came closer to pat his head. “They will find the tooth and know it’s yours, so no need to worry. Now, bid goodbye and let’s go home.”

“Bye, Avros. See you soon!” James obediently waved at his new friend, hoping to meet him another day to play again. They’ve met for short, but he already grew to really like little swan faunus.

He didn’t remember much more from the day, save for grass under his feet as he tried to keep up and then his father’s warm arms as he carried James home. He woke up for long enough to nuzzle into Hideki’s shoulder and wrap thin arms around his neck. He will soon be too big for sleeping like this, so he enjoyed the feeling, not knowing yet that this unique warmth and safety of parent’s embrace will stay in his memories as the treasure stored carefully to remember for the rest of his life.

#hc::Ironwood #I'm happy with this #it's very silly thing but I'm melting here #look. kiddies ;u;

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razrbladekiss · 3 years

Text

Tyrants | Chapter Three - Presage

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of Wendy’s drug use. Nothing explicitly *bad* goes on here, just some of the usual SOA shit is hinted at. :) Tig <3

MASTERLIST

Ninety degrees was horrendous. Ninety-six degrees saw Isla spiraling toward a fully-fledged mental breakdown, desperate to climb out of her own fucking flesh and melt into the parking lot outside of St. Thomas.

Seeing the Sons sporting leathers, hoodies, and long-sleeved shirts underneath their cuts made her skin crawl, too.

She'd thrown on the flounciest summer dress she owned, thin and wispy, and she was still roasting to death underneath the Californian sunshine.

It felt like they were living in the fucking ass-crack of hell.

Though, with their current state and Charming's infestation of ATF and other federal agents, hell wasn't too far off the mark.

"Thanks for the ride." Isla expressed her gratitude as she slid off of the back of Tig's bike, pulling the helmet away from loose blonde curls.

"No problem, baby--you good to get home, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm meeting Gem here, so she'll take me back to T M in time to pick my car up," she confirmed, readjusting herself.

She couldn't risk Tig Trager getting an eyeful of her asscheeks today. Not again, anyway.

"Perfect. See 'ya later, beautiful." Isla leaned in for him to peck her cheek--which was habitual for the pair--and she did the same.

Her smile was wide. She was beaming. "Bye, Tiggy. I love you."

"Love you too, kid." He reciprocated the smile, squeezing her hand as she broke away and padded toward the steps, brushing her fingers through wind-tousled strands.

Things were, for the first time in about a week, finally looking up. Resuming a sense of normality, perhaps.

She and Trager had been on precarious terms since that day, and had been avoiding one another altogether. Which, for them, was strange.

Days went by without even so much as a word being uttered between the pair, no backhanded comments, or even sideways glances.

Usually, they'd be bickering like kids, arguing nonsensically until Clay or Chibs broke them apart--but it was all just their little bit of fun. Because they bounced off of one another.

They lauded the relationship they shared because, really, it was one of the strongest.

He'd been her official favorite since the very day that they met--he and Bobby were the two she liked to talk to whenever she felt that she couldn't confide in her father.

But the last few days were so fucking hard. She was struggling with the weight of all that she did, coupled with the stress of not being able to discern Tig's current feelings on her.

And after she'd lashed out, had bitched at him for no fucking reason, she was pretty certain that Tiggy didn't want to know anymore.

That was thrown out of the window this morning, however, when Isla's clutch blew out, and she needed a ride from the garage to the hospital to see Abel.

Of course Tig was there for her. He always would be.

"Hey." Isla spoke softly as she held the little blue bear close to her chest. "I stopped by the gift shop on the way up here--Jax said he's already got bears and balloons comin' outta his ass, so I thought what's one more?"

Gemma couldn't help but smile, gesturing for the blonde to sit with her opposite Abel's isolette.

"He'll love you for it," she joked, though she knew that she was appreciative. For her company more so the stuffed animal.

With their commitment to the club and the current battle against the ATF, Jax and Clay weren't as hands on as what they usually would've liked.

Of course, Teller was at that baby's side whenever he got the chance to break away from SAMCRO, but he wanted more. He wanted the satisfaction of knowing that his little boy was being provided with the best possible care at St. Thomas.

And he was. He absolutely was. But he needed to know--for his own peace of mind, he needed to see that. So, his mother was there every waking fucking moment, giving him that love he could only get from his Grandma.

"How's he doing?" Her query was braided around a whisper, worried she'd disturb Abel's peaceful rest. "Jax said he should be coming home soon."

Gemma simply affirmed with a nod, gazing affectionately at her grandson.

It was heartwarming to see so much love, so much adoration from a woman who had a reputation for being a fucking cunt--thus proving that Gemma's main priority was her family, and their health and happiness.

That, somehow, made Isla love her even more than what she already did.

It also made her a tad jealous of Jax and the fact that he still had his mother in his life.

"He's gettin' stronger and stronger everyday. Tara said he'll be set to leave Friday--"

"Tara?" Her brow lifted as she put the bear amongst the pile of gifts. "I thought she was a doctor, I didn't think she had anything to do with the babies?"

Gemma's smile faltered a little. "She's a pediatric surgeon. Been takin' care of Abel since the start."

"Oh."

Now, she would've known that if she'd taken the time to visit her best friend's kid since he was born. But she hadn't--she hadn't even considered taking a trip over to St. Thomas to check in on Jax's baby.

And it was for the simple fucking reason that she couldn't bear the thought of facing Wendy and having to be nice to her. Especially after what she fucking did to that poor little boy.

She subsequently landed her own flesh and blood in the hospital after shooting heroin while pregnant? And she wanted Jax to pardon her for it?

Isla wasn't a hateful person, she didn't care about what people did in their spare time because that was their time.

But the moment an innocent person was harmed due to the carelessness of others...That was when she felt a scathing animosity.

"She's good with him." Gemma stated bitterly, snapping Isla from her ire-fueled daydream. "Kills me to say it, but she's a gem. A real fuckin' star."

"I'd bet. She was always good with kids."

"Yeah?" Suddenly interested, the older woman crossed over her arms. "Who's kids?"

Finally, Isla took a seat beside her on top of plush blue leather.

"A few of the girls we were in high school with had kids pretty young and Tara was usually super keen to hold them, or just hang out at their places whenever we weren't at school. Or it could've just been the wannabe doctor in her, now that I think about it."

"She's pretty maternal," Isla hummed in agreement, "but I'm glad she and Jax never had kids when you were teenagers--I don't know how that would've looked for him."

Suddenly, she was staring at Gemma like she had two fucking heads.

"I don't trust her." She elaborated, drawing another confused glance from Isla. "She and Jax would have been a fucking disaster had she stayed--"

"And things worked out so much better with Wendy?" A little more vehemently than intended, the blonde asked.

Now Gemma was the one shooting dirty looks.

"Look, Gem, I'm just saying. Jax and Tara are history now, yeah? You don't have to trust her. Just thank her for what she's doing for your grandson because when he's outta this place, you won't need to worry about her."

"And you're so sure about that, huh?" Skeptically, she asked. Arms folded over. "You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another."

That line gutted her.

It hurt her--it was agonizing--but she wasn't sure why she was so beaten by it. Because it was the truth, wasn't it?

Tara and Jax were, at one point, the strongest couple she'd ever known, and when it fizzled out he was fucking broken. She hadn't seen him so downtrodden since JT had passed, and he was suddenly left without the strength and guidance of his father.

She was his everything. Isla was a fool to think he'd be able to see her back in Charming and not feel something for her. His first love.

"I think we should throw Abel a homecoming party on Friday--if he's coming home then, that is." Gemma shifted the topic of conversation, getting to her feet.

"Absolutely. I'll help."

"Yeah?" She asked a little doubtingly, reaching over to pick Abel up. "You don't have to--I know you work Friday's."

Isla waved her off, standing beside the brunette. "I do, but it's no bother. If everyone's gonna be there, then I wanna show my face too. Offer a helping hand of some sort."

"Alright, perfect," Gem stated softly, holding the baby close to her chest. "When we get back to T M, we can figure out what we need to get."

"Sounds like a plan--" Isla was cut off by a soft knocking at the door, irritating her a little bit because she'd only just gotten there and hated the idea of having to leave already.

She made a mental note to stop by a little earlier tomorrow.

"Hey, sorry to bother you--" Tara stopped herself when she needed her estranged friend, almost dropping the clipboard she was holding against her chest.

Isla Telford was the last fucking person she expected to see today.

"Hey," with a fake smile, she greeted.

The tension was palpable.

Gemma felt the irritation washing over her favorite of the duo, urging her to turn her attention back toward her grandson before she said anything to worsen the situation.

Because she would've.

"Uh, I've gotta run a few tests on Abel before we determine that he'll be ready to leave this week, if that's alright?" Tara gestured to Gemma, ignoring Isla's presence.

That stung a little bit.

"Yeah. It's fine." The response was blunt. Terse, to a point.

"Great."

Isla realized that she wasn't wanted in that space any longer. She grabbed her purse, turning toward the door. "I'll meet you outside."

"Yeah, alright," Gemma put the baby back into his crib, smiling at Isla. "You want my keys?"

"I'll wait on the steps--I'm gonna smoke--"

"Before you go," Tara cut in. She cleared her throat, trying to smile--but she just couldn't.

Telford sensed where it was going, however. There wasn't a reason for her to stop Isla in her tracks, in front of Gemma no less.

She wondered how long it'd take for it to be brought up.

"Thanks."

Gratitude genuinely swept over the doctor, letting Isla know she was truthful in her acknowledgment--or, was it more like a form of praise? Because Jax definitely told Tara what they both did for her, and she was astounded that the woman would even float the idea of helping out.

It was a strange notion. To know what she did--when she looked and acted like that--was fucking weird. And nobody would've believed her if she said that Isla helped to dispose of a dead body, which did make her laugh a little.

She knew how to hold, load, and fire a pistol, but she wasn't capable of committing the unspeakable the same way that Jax, or Chibs, or Clay were capable of it.

But she was slowly earning her title as 'Daughter of Sgt. At Arms/ Man of Mayhem.' And she wasn't sure how she liked that.

"You're welcome," she spoke plainly. "Hope everything is alright now, Tara."

"It is."

"Good." Her retort was immediate, laced with that same genuineness the other woman expressed. "You free this coming friday?"

Hesitantly, she nodded.

"If all goes to plan--and Abel is good to come home--we're gonna throw a little party for the boy," Gemma confirmed with a nod. "You wanna swing by? Everyone'll be there--Donna, Ope, their kids, Wendy, the rest of the Sons. You should come. It'll be nice for everyone to see 'ya again."

Wendy's name falling from those pink lips, in such a positive light, maimed Isla. She and Jax were starting to get along a little bit better now, but she was still wary of that woman.

"Yeah. It'll be great," the older woman added.

Tara felt cornered. She knew that she wasn't really wanted, and she also knew that was a way for Isla and her menopausal best friend--old enough to be her fuckin' mom--to keep the doctor as close as possible without explicitly saying that they wanted to keep an eye on her.

"Sure. I'll stop by."

"Brilliant." Gemma conceded, slipping past the pair. "Address hasn't changed, sweetheart."

It was passive aggressive, sickly-sweet, and it was Gemma to a fucking T. The woman was loathing every second she had to spend with Tara Knowles and she wasn't even trying to hide it.

But it didn't have to be for very long, she thought.

"What was that all about? Why'd she thank you?" Gem queried as they got outside, passing the lighter to her left.

"For not breaking her fucking neck when I had the chance to all those years ago, probably."

Isla sparked her cigarette, pacing alongside her as they headed toward the car.

"That's bullshit."

"How so?"

"Just is." She could read Chibs's little girl like a fucking book. "But I won't press--if it's something between you and Tara, I don't care to hear. Just lemme know if it goes south. I can put a bullet in her for you, baby."

Isla would've laughed had she not known that Gemma was deadly fucking serious about blowing Tara's brains out.

But it was a relief. For her to give it up just like that--uncharacteristically so--was a kind of relief that she never thought she'd feel from Gemma Teller.

She was used to being protected. Used to being viewed as the one that needed to be shielded from the horrors that shrouded the Sons. But Isla wasn't innocent, nor was she fucking stupid.

The security was appreciated, however. Because, lately, things just didn't seem to be going too great for her.

And, if she'd learned anything, they'd only worsen from here on out.

"You don't have to go full mama bear mode, Gem. I'm a big girl."

She laughed, turning to face Isla.

"I know," smoke blew from her nose, "but you've gotta protect the ones you wanna keep close, y'know? The ones you love."

The tip of Gemma's boot pulverized her cigarette into the sidewalk as she fished for the car keys, avoiding eye contact all together.

"I haven't been able to protect everyone I've wanted to from the shit that goes on in this town, honey, but I'm really tryin'. And I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you or my boy."

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