#Hawks gets a complex trying to figure out which of the two of them is faster and it 100% goes over Koichi's head

[welovethecloudboytoomuch]

Hawks takes one look at the naruahta vigilantes (people who want to do good but are willing to go against the established rules to do so) and lets out a relived sigh. Finally... his peer group.

[descendant-of-truth]

If I may throw my hat into the ring here, I think the source of a lot of problems in the writing of Miraculous can be boiled down to its confusion over its target demographic.

There are two very clear audiences the show is trying to cater to:

Grade school girls around 5-10

Teens/young adults around 15-20

And this results in some. unique conflicts in the show's internal logic.

Because it's a superhero show for little kids, it's full of fun, bright colors, wacky villain-of-the-week designs, and the characters are all very straightforward with exaggerated personality traits. The cheerful, clumsy, scatterbrained girl protagonist, her utterly charming and goofy (but slightly clueless) love interest, her cool best friend, her mean bully, etc.

This extends to the romance; the show is so comedic that Marinette's nervous crush and Cat Noir's flirting are played up for laughs. Their more "problematic" behaviors read as cartoon shenanigans first and foremost, which I do think was the intention - they're both shown as being more than a little ridiculous for acting this way, so they're not exactly trying to encourage people to emulate them. They're allowed to be genuinely wholesome, too, because it's nice to give the kids something to go "aww!" at, but it's not meant to be more complicated or deep than that.

And of course, it's gotta follow a sweet and simple episodic formula! A conflict in Marinette's civilian life, an inciting incident to get a side character upset enough for Hawk Moth to turn into a villain, Ladybug and Cat Noir show up, there's fun banter, Ladybug uses her Lucky Charm to figure out a wacky solution to the problem, and boom! The day is saved, Marinette and/or someone else learns a moral, and we get a cute little end screen showing all the key players of the episode.

The one aspect of the show's setup that's a little more serious is the fact that Adrien has a super controlling and distant father, but even this is something that doesn't necessarily break the kid-friendly tone for the first season or two. Superhero shows in particular like to put in some stuff that's a little more emotionally challenging for the viewers, even when they're mostly comedic, so it's not totally out of place here.

For example, while they tend to have more grounded tones overall, Spider-Man cartoons are aimed at kids and regularly keep the conflict between Harry Osborn and his father, Norman, intact; often including the plot point of Norman being the Green Goblin, a notorious villain. It's a similar deal with Adrien, and his dad secretly being Hawk Moth.

You can easily anticipate drama coming from this, but the show primes you to expect it to work out fine in the end because every other conflict so far has been wrapped up in a nice little bow once the episode's over. Though I will say, the choice to have Hawk Moth be Gabriel instead of his own, separate character is perhaps the first sign of the tone shift to come.

And, uh. it sure is a shift.

See, Miraculous does not start out with what you'd call a... plot. It vaguely alludes to there being more going on behind the scenes, but the only thing it really tries to get you invested in is the Love Square dynamic. Marinette and Adrien dancing around each other while fighting crime IS the plot, and it's clearly going to end with a cool final confrontation with Hawk Moth.

You expect it to end like... well, like the movie. Identities are revealed, Gabriel realizes the error of his ways when he finds out he's been fighting his son this whole time, and they may or may not make up but he almost definitely gets arrested. Marinette and Adrien kiss, roll credits.

This is not what happens, because the plot the writers actually had in mind is complex in a way that I would argue is meant for the same audience as YA novels. And with that plot comes a lot of darker, weightier traits to these otherwise silly characters.

Marinette isn't just scatterbrained and nervous, she has debilitating anxiety and an increasing need to be in control of everything due to the stress she's under. She has panic attacks on-screen. She's not just great at strategizing, she also knows how to manipulate people, and does so with increasing frequency - and to Cat Noir at times, no less. Her positive traits haven't gone anywhere, she's still loving and creative and sweet and doing her best to help everyone she can, she just. has all of that other stuff going on, now.

Adrien isn't just a charming, goofy, clueless love interest with a gazillion skills and a controlling father, he's like. actively being abused, and in some cases straight-up mind controlled. His tendency to heroically sacrifice himself so that Ladybug can do her Cool Protagonist Thing is gradually but unmistakably reframed as being a sign of suicidal inclinations. He has identity issues out the wazoo and he doesn't even know he's an artificially created human yet, because everyone in his life is keeping secrets from him and/or lying to his face about crucial information.

Information like, uh. how his dad died???

Yeah, so we're at a point in the story now where there was no satisfying conclusion to the Gabriel plot, no team-up, no moment where he realizes he's been fighting his son, none of that. He still has something akin to a change of heart, but he also still kind of gets what he wants - the Miraculous of the Ladybug and Black Cat, which he uses to rewrite the universe with a wish. It's just that instead of reviving his wife, he trades his life for Natalie's. Of course, he was already dying anyway, which was his own fault but he did force Cat Noir's Cataclysm onto himself, so, that's another thing poor Adrien is going to have to deal with at some point.

And because there's all these astronomically messed up things in Adrien's life, and Marinette's the one who got to learn about all of it before him, she decides that maybe it would be better if he just. didn't know about it. Which is understandable, if I was 14 and had all this information about my boyfriend's life that he didn't, I wouldn't know how to begin telling him about it, either.

But. can you see how we've maybe lost the plot, here?

Here's the thing: starting with a simple framework and gradually getting more complex and subverting the audience's expectations for how the main villain is going to be dealt with is not a bad thing. The fact that it gets darker over time is not an issue. I actually think that all these developments are, themselves, pretty cool! I'm a sucker for angst and complex character dynamics and the show is absolutely giving me those things.

The problem is that it didn't just start with a simple framework, it started with the framework for a different demographic entirely, and perhaps just as importantly, it never actually... stopped.

For as much complexity and intensity they're injecting this story with, they're still working under the logic of it being "for young kids." We still get goofy villain-of-the-week designs with equally goofy motivations, and the supporting cast is stuck remaining two-dimensional no matter their circumstances. Chloe is the most blatant example of this - she was made to be a simple bully first, so no matter what else they do with her, she has to remain straightforwardly evil.

This, I think, is the reason that Gabriel is a more nuanced and "sympathetic" antagonist than her, and why so much care goes into Adrien's character as a victim of abuse while Chloe is just a Problem Child despite suffering similar neglect; she wasn't made to be interesting, and so the show is resistant to changing that. Gabriel and Adrien, however, were already made with nuance in mind, and so they're allowed to develop as characters. And at the same time, it's a kid's show! We need to teach the kids what kind of behavior is acceptable, and Chloe's home life isn't an excuse to treat people badly, so--!

...Oh crap we're supposed to be teaching kids about acceptable behavior. Uh. Um. Quick, bring back the ice cream akuma who cares way too much about his ships so that Cat Noir can learn about consent! Uhh, but don't change his character too much afterwards, he's only marketable because of his silly flirting, and we can't lose that.

Yeah, remember when I said that the romance having problematic elements to it used to work well enough because it was clearly just exaggerated cartooniness? It wasn't free from criticism or anything, but you could see how it was intended to be endearing and silly, right? You were supposed to point and laugh at Marinette's convoluted plans to spend time with Adrien, at Cat Noir's dramatic flirting attempts that Ladybug herself fondly rolled her eyes at.

The tonal shift into deep character exploration kinda paints the previous stuff in a worse light, and to an extent, I think the writers know that. It's hard to laugh at Cat Noir being flirty all the time when he's also supposed to be taken completely seriously, and the more Ladybug rejects him, the more it turns into harassment, and it. kinda just stops being funny, even with the comedic framing.

It's also hard to laugh at Marinette's crush being so all-consuming when they try to tell us (in what I can only assume was an attempt to get people to stop complaining) that she's like this because it's fueled by an event in her past, one that made her so scared of loving the wrong person that she now needs to know Everything about them before asking them out. Her cartoon antics aren't funny under that light, it's just concerning, but they're dedicated to keeping it up anyway.

The show runs on straightforward cartoon logic where you're not supposed to think about it too hard just as much as it runs on grounded, closer-to-real-life logic where people are messy and complicated and actions have consequences. It's so divided that you can hand-pick parts of the story that are influenced by one or the other pretty easily, and depending on the episode you can find instances of both in the same 20-minute time span. Maybe even multiple times!

Neither thing they're trying to go for is bad, and neither is a better approach than the other, but forcing them into the same show makes both sides suffer.

It's not just hard to laugh at the parts I mentioned earlier, it's hard to take Gabriel seriously as a villain whenever you rewatch an episode and remember that he has a once-per-episode pun-based speech that he says so self-seriously that you can't help but laugh at. It's hard to take him seriously when you remember that he repeatedly akumatized a Literal Baby and practically threw a tantrum every time it didn't work, or when he randomly steals (and enthusiastically performs) his nephew's musical dance number, or something similar that you would only do for a cartoon villain aimed at five-year-olds.

And I can only imagine this whole show is a marketing nightmare, too. Hey, little girls, here's your cool role model! She's cute and smart and talented and powerful and can fix anything by shouting the title of the show! Hope you're having fun watching her tell her boyfriend that his newly-deceased father (who used deepfakes of him to sell merchandise that's built to enslave the population and then locked him in a solitary confinement chamber in another country) was actually a hero who sacrificed himself to stop the main villain instead of, y'know, being the main villain! Aren't you excited to watch her wrestle with the guilt of this lie for the next season or so? Doesn't it just make you want to buy her merchandise??

Like. what is even happening right now. what am I watching. how did we get here and why did we start where we did if this was what the story was going to be about

[lycorogue]

"seduce with caution" sounds interesting!

Ask is in reference to this WIP Title tag game. I have a whole tag just based around me gushing/raging/tearing my hair out over this project. 😅

To start, it's a fanfic within the Miraculous Ladybug fandom. For those not in the fandom, here's a quick primer: the show focuses on the teenage superhero Ladybug and her partner Chat Noir as they save Paris from supervillain Hawk Moth. Neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir knows their partner's secret identity, which makes things interesting since Ladybug is actually Marinette, classmate and friend to super model Adrien... aka Chat Noir. These secret identities have caused a bit of a complex romantic plotline the fandom has dubbed the Love Square*.

Now, the elevator pitch for Seduce With Caution is that, over the course of the 6 years since they've met, Chat Noir has developed the habit of visiting Marinette on a nearly-nightly basis. They have become best friends within these two personas - Chat Noir and Marinette - and one of their main topics of discussion is their failed love lives. One night Chat Noir proudly proclaims that he's sorted out how to get Ladybug to finally fall for him. Marinette playfully dismisses him. To prove his point, Chat Noir decides to try out his new flirting tactics on Marinette. Neither of them expected his new seduction moves to actually work. When they do, chaos ensues.

So now, 19yo Marinette is trying to sort out her newfound sexual attraction for 19yo Chat Noir and what that means for both her love for Adrien and her partnership with Chat Noir as Ladybug. Meanwhile, Adrien is also trying to figure out why Marinette swooning over him is such a huge turn-on. Is it just the swooning? Is it because it's swooning over his superhero persona instead of his model status? Is it because it's a friend of his instead of a random stranger? Is it because it's Marinette specifically? Can he get her just as hot-and-bothered as just plain old Adrien? Would it be as much of a turn-on if he could? What does ANY of this mean for his friendship with Marinette (both as Chat Noir and as Adrien) or his supposed undying love for Ladybug?

The story does progress into a MariChat (Marinette and Chat Noir) romance... aaaaand there's some smutty moments spliced in there.

Honestly? The story was originally going to be this crack smut one-shot. I had read the 4th and 5th chapters of Dressed to Confess by @zenmisery back in the summer of 2020. I was caught up in the MariChat make-out session, but also the fact that the two literally couldn't do much more than heavy petting due to Chat Noir's costume being magically incapable of being removed. He has a sort of magical chastity belt that he can't get around without detransforming and revealing who he is to Marinette. Well, my pervy brain had Marinette create a work-around, and I was simply going to write that scene: the two aged up and getting their little smut on thanks to Marinette's characteristic ingenuity.

My first attempts included Chat Noir doing a pole dance strip tease to get Marinette all riled up, and then she would reveal her master plan for him to actually disrobe without revealing who he was to her. I tried writing just that scene about 4x over the course of the next year. None of them worked.

Fast forward to August 2021 and I finally wrote a more subtle flirting/seduction scene. It was more sensual. It built up the tension better. It was accidental flirting. This was the scene I have been meaning to write! Huzzah! Eeeeeexcept... the whole point of Chat Noir "accidentally" flirting with Marinette was because he was practicing for Ladybug. I couldn't just have him and Marinette shack up! I had to have him get over Ladybug first... and Marinette get over Adrien.... and THEN get to the original smut scene!

It's the transition from regular Love Square to Reverse Love Square that has been holding me up since flippin' 2021! I have the first 3 chapters of this story pretty much locked in, I have a concept for the 4th chapter that I've been tweaking, and I have a few more scenes/chapters further along the plot that I have already sorted out/written. I'm excited for the bits I have actually put to paper (as it were), but it's the bridging moments that have been eluding me. I've attempted 9 different plotting strategies, and this final one seems to be working the best (especially if used in conjunction with a few of the other plotting tactics).

One of my New Years Resolutions was to have this story ready to publish by August... but it's not looking very likely. I HAVE been steadily** working on it, though... so there's that.

If you don't mind spoilers and want more info on this story, I have my latest plot outline attempt available here. Still needs lots of tweaks, but it's a start.

*For those who might not know what I mean when I say Love Square, here's the basic breakdown: Marinette is in love with Adrien, but he doesn't see her romantically because he's in love with Ladybug (but can only get the chance to tell her so as Chat Noir). Ladybug doesn't see Chat Noir romantically because of her love for Adrien, but she can't tell Chat Noir that because she fears it will somehow reveal her civilian identity. Ladybug also can't tell Adrien she loves him because she fears putting a civilian (Adrien) in danger if the Big Bad found out she liked him (think Mary Jane being targeted to get to Spider-Man). Adrien doesn't let Marinette (or really anyone) know he's in love with Ladybug because either (a) he fears people will pick on him for having a crush on a superhero, or (b) it might give away that he's Chat Noir.

Basically, the Love Square is this (complete with the couple names):

Reverse Love Square is exactly what it says on the tin.

**By "steadily"... well... I haven't really written MUCH at all the past three years. Depression is a beautiful thing, isn't it? I have kind of poked at it about once a month though... so... I guess that's steady. Right?

[xiaohetao]

Zhang Linghe's Theory of Everything

Stephen Hawking once searched for an excellent formula that could be used to ultimately explain all phenomenons in the universe. In his youth, Zhang Linghe once regarded him as a hero and admired him for his research on theoretical knowledge that has an impact on human civilization. Then, he studied hard and spent happy days at school such as deriving interrelated formula. Later, he became an actor & discovered the beauty when rationality & emotion are matched. Now, his logical perception of reality, his empathy perception for the characters & fiction world has formed Zhang Linghe's unique theory of everything.

It was a very early photoshoot schedule. Zhang Linghe was drinking his daily iced americano with oolong tea beside it. His bangs, which hadn't been set was a bit covering his eyes, but he remained to look sincere and witty. We asked him whether he has always like this kind of bitter drink, he said he learned to like it. "At first, I drink it to reduce swelling, but later it became a habit & I keep doing it." Recently, Zhang Linghe's face has filled our sight. Love Between Fairy and Devil is still popular, Story of Kunning Palace has just finished filming and he currently joined the filming of Fox Spirit Matchmaker: Yuehong Chapter. Although the role of Hu Weisheng played by him is not main character, it has unique personality which is different from his previous roles. "Weisheng is a little timid and a bit silly, but at the same time, he also sincere & cute. I already know the crew from previous project, so I feel very familiar when I joined them. This saves times as I already know them, I could quickly get into the work environment." Zhang Linghe still thinks carefully. "I've been thinking about how to make this silly character more lovely. Later, I found that integrity is an important point. As long as he is kind & sincere, everyone will like him.

Let's take a look of characters played by Zhang Linghe. They all have different personality & look. Chang Heng is warm & firm, Xie Wei is thoughtful & meticulous, Hu Weisheng is simple & pure. Among these characters, Xie Wei is the most complex. "It took me some time to find out how this character feels, he's really different from me, so I made a lot of preparations. I try to use his personality to think about every decisions he made. I discuss his thoughts & emotions with the screenwriter, I also talk to the novel author, I want to know as much as possible about what the author gave when creating this character. Combined with the final result expected by the screenwriter, I finally able to understand him & experience his story." As Zhang Linghe said, playing the role of Xie Wei is beyond his experience, his dialogues able to make him think deeply for a long time. "In a scene, I had this dialogue the world is finally at peace, now it doesn't matter if I die However, as I play Xie Wei, I need to understand and figure out his mind & feelings when he said those words. Later, I read the novel. I feel that the reason why he is fighting all the way to get high position is because he has hope in his heart. But then, this hope has gone. Then for him it's what he means by now it doesn't matter if I die.”

People often said that being good at finding out the rules of constant things is the necessary ability for smart people to survive, so it is inevitable that Zhang Linghe, who loves to solve mathematical problems, has summarized his own methodologies for acting. "The concept of my methodology is divided into two parts. In some technical & empirical things such as reading the script and understanding the role will be expertized through the amount of experiences I had. But when I really started acting, I found that the emotion & perception of the characters remain prevailed. I'm not professional-trained actor, so I can learn more about the power of sincerity in acting through more experiences." His tone sounds relaxed, but his attitude is earnest, with a great sincerity for the ‘acting’ itself.

Perhaps the nature of his logical thinking or the feeling of accomplishment brought by obtaining a unique solution that made Zhang Linghe interested to physics. But unfortunately, acting is on the opposite side of rationality. It requires actors to think deeply, but it also requires them to throw away the result of thinking and finally get close emotionally to the character. These two things are mutually opposite, but surprisingly, they reacted wonderfully with each other in Zhang Linghe's life.

What if you have to compare your love for physics with your love for acting?

"Both have their own charm. The joy brought by acting is like the release of dopamine, like there's a 'bang' of fireworks in your brain. The joy of physics is to satisfy curiosity. You will dig deeper & deeper into a conjecture and you must chase after the final answer before you stop. But these two things have their own difficulties at the same time. A thousand people have a thousand hamlets in their hearts (meaning a thousand people might have a thousand different opinions), to what extent you can understand and bring something into the character. While for physics, the road of study might never end".

However, compared to the physics conjectures, acting is more difficult. In this process, Zhang Linghe needs to let go a few sense of control over the results, to let go the strong reins of rationality and let himself enter the character's soul. In the acting class, the teacher told him to freely express his character. He must give up the thinking part and embrace the sensibility. "In the class, the teacher will specially choose a role that has a big contrast with you and ask you to try. I remember at that time the teacher asked me to imitate a kitten, its cute gestures & behaviour. With more training like this, I started to found a few methods of how to get into the characters."

However, when he first truly empathized with a character, it still brought a great emotional impact to Zhang Linghe. "The first time I felt that I was empathizing with the character was when I filmed Flourish in Time. It was a very simple scene. I went to give my sister an examinee identity card. Actually, I didn't need to give her a strong feeling. But when I was acting for this scene, I happened to notice the drama will wrap up. So, when the director shouted "cut", I fall apart. And it lasted for ten or twenty minutes. I felt trapped by Jiang Haoyue's feelings. Later, I realized that I will feel this way when I get into the role." This experience made him realize the feeling of being affected by the characters' emotions. But also from the moment when the characters walked into his heart, Zhang Linghe felt that he could really continue his acting journey.

Recently, Zhang Linghe filmed some costume dramas intensively. At first, he considered wearing a headpiece & using hanging wires as new fun things. But as the filming went deeper, he began to feel the deeper cultural power. "The more costume dramas I filmed, the more I feel it as our powerful cultural characteristics and able to bring us the cultural confidence. After Love Between Fairy and Devil was broadcasted, the ancient culture in the drama has been loved by many audiences, including overseas, which is also one of our cultural export. It's really an honor for me to be able to join this outstanding costume drama. When talking about acting, Zhang Linghe always has a lot to say, eager to share his feelings about the role, but also firmly state his own shortcomings. " In acting, what I want to improve most is (how to express) the dialogues. How can I make the dialogues fit into to the characters? I want to continue exploring and practice it.

After not filming for awhile, Zhang Linghe has back to be a completely rational person. He doesn't believe in things without theoretical support. He also doesn't believe that zodiac sign and personality tests can explain the personality. I think this is the matter of phenomenon & result or vice versa. Actually, the characters commonality exists first and people will put themselves as the result of a zodiac sign or a personality type. Even if there is no astrology, this character commonality will still exists, only we don't know how to describe it. When he was a child, he wanted to be a person like Hawking, Einstein or Galileo. He was fascinated by the exploration of world's law of nature. After getting into the acting world, he like Tony Leung. He watched Infernal Affairs over & over again just to see Tony Leung’s acting. "Tony Leung laoshi looks handsome. He has one kind of highest quality of performance sense. I like this movie because I also like Andy Lau laoshi. The two of them created dramatic tension in that movie."

He just made a great start of his acting career. There are a lot of possibilities and expectations to be accomplished. "The types of roles I've always wanted to play is still a police or crime genre, a mystery one. Maybe I can play as the police or the villain. I'm looking forward for the opportunity." Perhaps his love for reasoning themes comes from his love for detective fiction novels & enjoying the process of battle-of-wits with the author. "I have read quite many of Keigo Higashino's works, because it's not just a simple case of reasoning, there is also a lot of human thoughts in addition to complicated reasoning techniques. Sometimes it's interesting to read this kind of novel. You hope to win over the author & guess the next step of his plan, but you are also expecting to be surprises." Besides the detective fiction novels, he also likes the science fiction novel such as Liu Cixin's works. The kind of hard work that built on a complete set of logical systems. "After I read Three Body Problems and Ball Lightning, I find it’s hard to immersed when I read another novels. These novels gave me a deep impression. He successfuly bridges the gap between fantasy and reality. You will be fully convinced with the world he created. It really is amazing.”

One of science fiction movie that Zhang Linghe recently watch is "The Moon Falls". There is also “Interstellar” which is an irreplaceable masterpiece for him. In his spare time, he will open science fiction category on the streaming platform & will watch it one by one without selection, as if everything about the universe is within his liking. He believes that there are higher dimensions of life observing us & we are just tiny beings in three-dimensional world. "A lot of superstring theories mentioned that the universe is 11-dimensional. We live in a very low-level dimension. There are too many things in the universe beyond our understanding and imagination. There are too many coordinate axes outside of xyz. This world is multi-layered.”

Does this make you feel little? "It will broaden my mind & heart"

Most people who like physics and macro perspective have the courage to face the unknown. It is a precious spirit to be able to happily live even after realizing our insignificance. "Sometimes you go to learn about the universe, look at the satellites and asteroids revolving around the sun, and think about the Milky Way beyond the solar system. Every star is so far apart. Separated in a distance that beyond the reach of mankind lifespan. You will suddenly feel that your world view has expand. The sun, the earth and human beings are just one tiny part of a huge world. You will feel that nothing can bother me. But sometimes we need to change our perspective & don't be carried away by the view of pessimistic and worthless effort. We still need to return to our life, do our work well, be satisfied with the present while keep imagining the future."

Would you be afraid of choice if every choice we made would turn to bring about a parallel universe, as in Coherence?

"Of course not. Maybe there will be some psychological pressure, but I accept the results of every choices."

Indeed, Zhang Linghe has never been afraid to choose acting, roles and sincerity

It is interesting that Zhang Linghe still keeps the habit to read. It may not be a heavy read, but he always maintains the relationship with words. In this era where people tend to look at pictures & clips, this habit seems special. "Words are the foundation. Visual sense is based on content & words. I often need to read scripts & get into the characters from the dialogues. From appearance to the tone of speech, they are all come from words. the script or words are the medium to get the output.

This is your advantage, now there are not many people like to read. "Maybe, but it's something that I have to do"

So far we still don't know whether Zhang Linghe already has his own theory of everything, but considering his sensibility, calmness & sincerity, it's hard not to deduce a wonderful solution, isn't it?

[keilemlucent]

pretty eyes & starshine: i

(NSFW)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

part i   ||   part ii   ||   part iii

beta’ed: @shadowworks & @keiqos​ (thank you!! 💞)

word count: ~9.4k

Keigo surrenders to losing himself in the blank-walled, temporary home he inhabits. He finds familiarity in the routine of aches, pains and pills. 

You’re his only solace. 

warnings: bodily trauma, medical trauma, PTSD, dissociation, suicidal ideation, alcohol as a coping mechanism and graphic description of sustained injury

a/n: oh wow so here it is, big sad fic :’^) part one!! it’s canon divergent from manga chapter 296 onwards.

this one has been a long time coming. please mind the warnings!! this fic deals a lot with trauma and mental illness in tandem. the warnings are going to change with the coming parts, so please be mindful. i don’t wanna get too sappy, but this piece has been my Baby for the past few months, and i’m excited to finally share. that being said, enjoy loves 💞

Everyone is fucked up after the War.

There is no kindness in an aftermath like this one, not so soon, and certainly not with dried blood of old comrades and mud still caking under its metaphorical fingernails. The world was in shambles, and every hero is along with it.

There is something horrifying about being at the center of it all, Hawks, no, Keigo thinks solemnly, all too often. 

He’s used to the attention he’s getting, touches and poking and prodding by near strangers. Except, he was used to exclamations of how great and powerful and remarkable he was. Now, all the attention he receives is followed by little sighs and sad, broken eyes.

He’s sure he looks equally as sad; Keigo had been nothing but an empty shell since the War had ended and he’d been carted off to his hospital room. Numb despite all of his burns. 

It’s the shock, he tells himself, he’ll snap out of it any day.

Any day.

...

And it is any day.

He wakes up to screaming from the next room over, agonized wails that pierce the air as his morning nurse enters. She’s over-worked and haggard while checking his vitals with a forced smile. They don’t make conversation with him much anymore, and Keigo doesn’t have the energy to try and force it. There isn’t enough in him to pretend that he’s okay enough to banter with folks. 

If he still had his wings, he would’ve wrapped himself up tight in the plumage and let himself rot away in some corner. He’d let the dissociated numbness fade, however long it took, and then succumb to whatever psychological wounds revealed themselves. 

Waste away, all alone.

But he doesn't have that luxury. He is in an overcrowded hospital with swarms of civilians and heroes, all stuffed in one place because the world doesn’t have the time to differentiate between the wounded, nor the space or resources to give different resources. Though, Keigo is a special case, hence why he’s had healers coming to him for the past three weeks since the War trying to coax his body into genesizing a new pair of wings. 

The Commission’s hospital has all the bells-and-whistles that a medical professional could need, but Keigo, and so many others, are facing problems that don’t have good and easy roads to healing. 

That’s assuming healing was even possible.

Keigo is convinced, has been convinced, that there is no way to come back from the War, nor the absence on his back, nor the shouts and cries of pain that echo around the hospital like a new genre of music that Keigo so desperately wants to scrub from his brain.

Things change, it’s inevitable. Everyone falls eventually, and he was just used to flying.

It’s a harder descent. 

...

Keigo doesn’t meet you on any day, he meets you on a lonely night.

The evenings and early mornings were the most peaceful at the hospital. Most folks, three weeks after the end of it all, had serious enough injuries that they had to be somewhat sedated to sleep, either for physical or mental pain keeping them from sleep.

It’s morose, Keigo thinks, quietly and privately, but he craves those hours. All he hears then is the hum of air vents and beeps of his own medical machinery. None of the audible agony of the folks he was sworn to protect.

He’s slept most of the day, not lucid enough to do much else, and the nurses haven’t been giving him sedatives unless he asked (though he always did.) Without forced quiet, he’s antsy, fingers twitching and flaring the new (and growing) pains rooted in his (empty, isn’t that horrifying—) back.

He rouses himself, adjusting his scratching hospital garb (thin sweats and a cheap crew neck with the back almost entirely cut away). With his IV pole at his side, he resolves to take a few laps and quiet himself, hopefully.

(Keigo would need sedatives, he always did, but it was nice to play pretend that he didn’t. It made things easier for a precious hour or two.)

His laps are usually quick, despite how much his body aches when he walks. So much new, burnt tissue that needed to learn how to move, how to live again, kept him throbbing and gritting his teeth.

Masochism be damned, he keeps at it during his sleepless nights. Physical therapy wasn’t an option when the world was caving in with him at the epicenter.

There’s a common room at the end of the foyer of identical (filled) hospital rooms, just a collection of stuffy, uncomfortable couches that face an aged TV and a wide bay of windows. It’s rarely used, just a formality for when the space of the hospital had regularly hurt victims and heroes. When it wasn’t bearing so much weight. 

Sometimes, he would stop to idly regard the mostly barren world around the hospital. Far from the cities, a little hideaway for heroes and their loved ones to heal in privacy. Other than sheer distance, there is a thick, organic shield around the complex.  It’s a towering forest, man-planted with identical types of trees in perfect rows. 

It’s grim in its predictability. 

(When did he get so fucking pensive?)

(Oh yeah, too much time locked in his goddamn skull.)

He hadn’t been planning to have any inner musings that night.

But, that night, he notes that he is not alone. 

On one of the hard couches, you sit, with your own IV-pole companion and injuries, an arm carried in a monochromatic sling and set in a hard cast.

You turn to him, blinking wide eyes at him.

There’s a single lamp on, and the light dances in your eyes with its own unexpected rhythm.

Something compels Keigo to smile, cocky, like he used to, and greet you with a little wave, and a finger to his lips.

Your expressions melts, a hand going over your mouth to stifle a giggle.

It’s like you’re pulling him after that, he finds himself resting across from you.

You must look like a pair, he realizes. You’re greasy, he’s greasy. He’s got a fine layer of built-up stubble that shouldn’t be called anything other than impressive peach fuzz (not that Keigo’s seen it, he’s felt it. The idea of looking in a mirror makes him sick to his stomach. Though you don’t have any pseudo-beard, you’ve got your own unkempt look and feel that makes you two kindred without sharing a word.

It feels comfortable, warm.

“Hi,” you speak first, voice soft and gentle. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nah, who can?” Keigo replies, shaking his head. “But what about you? Midnight oil doesn’t burn without a cause, you know.” 

Your expression is also painful in the way it’s so open, yet worn (most everyone had locked up by now, the ones in the hospital and Keigo imagined the ones outside of it too.) 

“I like the sky— the stars are pretty.” You sigh, wistful. “I watch for shooting stars.”

The thought, the significance of that obvious wanting, makes something pang deep in his chest. Childlike hope in a place like this, foolish as well as frail.

“Trying to get a wish?” Keigo clicked his tongue. “Smart.”

“No, no— wishing doesn’t... suit me, right now.” You snorted, shaking your head, the light in your eyes dancing, “I just think they’re pretty.”

Keigo blinks, unable to stop the way his eyes widen.

Your posture reads nothing but earnestness and vulnerability, so freely given (so undeserved) without a hint of pullback.

“What do you want to be called?”

“... Excuse me?” Keigo is not used to his thoughts being interrupted in the blanket of dark that he feels most comfortable in. Your words shock him enough with their meaning, let alone the way you’re so brazen. 

“I, uh,” You stumble on your words. “I know who you are, but I also saw that whole broadcast, which I’m going to easily assume you don’t want to talk about. But, I don’t know how much you want to be called ‘Hawks’ at this point either.”

His mouth is dry.

“So, I ask instead,” You lean forward, your IV line pulling the slightest bit and you wince. His discomfort must be very fucking apparent, because you backtrack in moments. “... Or, neither. I can call you something else, too.”

“... A nickname, for someone you don’t even know?” Keigo, Hawks, whoever he is now struggles with words. There’s too many, and they’re all too fast, and he doesn’t have his wings to catch up to them or outrun them— 

“Yeah, why not?” You shrug with a lazy smile. “I’ll call you... pretty eyes. How about that?”

Keigo does have pretty eyes. They’re gold, light and glittering amber in the lowlight. Before he, ya’ know, lost them, and when things were good, but awful, but normal, he darkened the organic marks around his canthi with liquid eyeliner. He liked makeup, prettied himself up and accentuated all the good he had. Preening.

None of that is left, just what organically was on his skin, and he hasn’t seen it in its raw state in years, and like fuck if he was going to look in a mirror just to figure out if his natural eyeliner was half as good as that by his own hand. 

“Sure, that works,” He relaxes, mirroring your expression like the practiced... pro he is. “What do I call you, starshine?”

You roll your eyes, but nothing about you fades as you tell him your name, something that calms and fills him, “But, you can call me starshine if you want. Sounds nice.”

It’s sweet.

So, Keigo greets you.

“Nice to meet you, starshine.”

...

That’s the first time you kept each other’s company. Most of it is quiet, you truly do just want to watch the stars. Keigo did with you, tracing the shadows of clouds and moonlight with his eyes.

(Occasionally, his gaze shifts to you, regarding your figure with the same care for only a moment before returning to the sky you both miss.)

Eventually, the quiet heat of it puts him half to sleep, and he bids you goodnight.

You wave goodbye, rising as he away.

The light isn’t in your eyes anymore, and your warmth feels a little too far away.

...

The next days are long.

He slips into that shell-state again, where he’s a husk that stares emptily at the ceiling as the Commission tries to piece him together to a fraction of what he once was. 

They fail, each time, because no healer they’ve brought can regenerate quirk-formed appendages, but he commends their efforts all the same. It’s out of desperation, sure, but he’s heard whispers of the new generation. In recalling his own sidekicks, he isn’t as scared for the future. 

(Everyone else’s future. He’s so terrified of his own that he turns extra numb if he thinks about it.) 

Selfishly, he just wants his wings for himself. They’d keep him plenty company. If he ever did get them back, he’d fly somewhere, faraway and alone to live out his days under his feathers and feel as empty as he wanted. 

They fuss over him all day, not knowing those desires. They are private, and he only puts on his old, self-confident bravado so they don’t lock him up somewhere to have his brain picked and to fill the new holes with pill-shaped gauze. 

As established, Keigo was content to rot.

(He can’t fully parse all of his feelings and they consume him.)

The healers for the week all failed, doing nothing but making his back bow and burn. It’s painful. Obviously, trying to stitch a body back together, or rather making a body make when it was so tired of creating—

(Feather after feather after feather, for how long?)

He’s glad his sessions are in a different room, a spare, horrifyingly metallic exam room across the hospital. It reeks like iron and isopropyl alcohol, but Keigo doesn’t mind. The filmy paper that rolls from the exam table gets soaked with his sweat as opposed to his familiar bed dressings. 

Not to mention, it’s nice, not having to hear his neighbor’s screams and pleadings to God, any god, for reprieve. Calming. 

(He feels less guilty. Less like it was his own hand that scarred up their bodies. If he can’t hear them, he only thinks of his own agony under ‘helping’ hands.)

His body is exhausted at the end of each day, and even his restlessness fades with the necessities of his body.

He doesn’t see you, and practically forgets about you.

It’s a week or so later when he takes one of his strolls, and finds you tucked away into your nook, dimly lit and with a blanket over your lap.

Keigo feels it as he nears you, that comfort that your expression bleeds into his very soul. Even as he watches your healthy hand nervously toy with the thin knit in your lap, it doesn’t dim you.

The lamplight dances in your eyes as you nod to him, “Fancy seeing you here, pretty eyes.” 

“You’d never know it, but I live just down the hallway— me,” He touches his chest proudly, surprised by his own jest. 

You gave a fake gasp, mirroring him easily, “Never knew I had such a well-known soul in my neighborhood. Forgive my transgression.”

Bending at the waist, as much as you can with your right leg extended, straight, you choke on laughter.

Keigo follows you in it, giggling, genuinely giggling, high and light and girlish like he’d never heard from himself before.

He snapped his mouth shut, thickly swallowing and shaking his head.

“No need to be shy,” You assured him with an affectionate turn of the head. “You have a lovely laugh.”

“Now you’re just flirting with me, cute.”

Your head tilted farther, confused, “I’m simply being kind to you.”

Why didn’t he have the snark to reply to that? Probably because he was half-dead and on painkillers for nearly a month. He’d beat himself up about it later, maybe.

There wasn’t an ounce of malice in your tone, just earnestness that tugged at his own insecurities.

You backpedaled. “How was your day?”

Keigo takes a few moments to respond, shaking his head without mind to the way his too-long hair flops in his face. 

The banter isn’t forced, but it’s not welcomed yet.

As comfortable as you feel to him, Keigo isn’t comfortable.

“Same old, same old,” Living hell. “Boring, mostly. Painful, but dull. It’s crazy how much hell smells like cheap disinfectant, huh?” 

You agree, quietly, “I’m pretty sure there’s many hells in this place.”

Keigo doesn’t know how to respond, so he doesn’t. 

You both regard the stars again with growing reverence. Specks of light dance back in your eyes as you both settle into the hard cushions like they were made of goose down and Sherpa. 

...

Your conversations are... disjointed, to say the least. 

There’s an inability for words and phrases to flow between you. There’s starts and stops, stalls like an engine that putters on tarry oil without ever truly firing. There are good feelings, still, safety in silence before words as you stargaze together through the comfort of a window.

It should feel disarming, to be so far from the sky yet have no way to reach it. And it is, but Keigo can swallow the reality these days. It’s easier when there’s someone on the mend close by, sharing in the discomfort of a rawed mind and the comfort of a yellow-toned fluorescent bulb.

It’s unspoken kinship. Keigo never had time for it in the past, but now it was all he had. There had to be some cruel irony in it (as if there wasn’t enough in his life), but he couldn’t make himself mind. 

Everything he’d once excelled at, everything he had was gone. He was barren and stripped (don’t think about it—), exposed to the elements in all the worst ways. At least the hospital was clean and safe, relatively. 

It feels safest with you near.

Sure, your conversations were clearly that of two horribly broken people, but that wasn’t new or surprising. It simply was.

“Do you know constellations?” You ask one night, a colder one, where you’ve got two blankets over your lap. 

Keigo thought for a moment, “A handful, but I never took to stargazing, you know?”

You don’t relate, just chew your lip, the light of the dim lamp dancing across your irises.

“Can I show you some?” 

“...Constellations?”

“What else?” You crack a smile. “Come on, pretty eyes.”

Whatever you’d like, he’d do. 

He can’t refuse, he’s already getting weak for you. 

Shifting, Keigo joins you on your typical couch for the first time. Your IV poles, thrumming and humming their own rhymes harmonize, quietly and mostly imperceptible. 

You regard him even more warmly, so close, a little smile playing on your lips.

“What’s your sign?”

Keigo deadpans, “What?”

“Like... astrology. What’s your sign?”

You wiggle your eyebrows, knowing the double-meaning of your words. 

Flirting again.

Since when had he been so bad at it?

“Capricorn,” He huffs back. He keeps his back off the stone-like cushions of the couch— his scarring had been itchy the whole day prior— so itchy— 

You tap the plastic-y fabric gap between the two of you, grabbing his attention, “Hey, pretty eyes. Stick with me, let me show you where that one is.”

So, you do.

Your light-filled eyes trace the sky’s nighttime freckles, searching until you find what you’re looking for.

“There,” Your finger raises, tracing the patterns in the air. “That’s Capricorn, can you see?”

Not really, the stars are just a meaningless smatter. If there’s some sort of pattern he’s supposed to find, he comes up with none. 

“Not in the slightest,” Keigo rolls his eyes. “Show me again?”

You don’t reply, but rather scoot a bit closer, mirror his hunch and pose with precision and tiny adjustments. 

He doesn’t dare to breathe as you carefully grab his arm, extending it. You lay your cheek over his bicep, watching from the closest view to his own that you could. 

“Do you see now?” 

The only starlight he sees is right in front of him, soft cheek pressed against atrophying muscles. Sharing your heat so graciously as you would so easily come to, you chatter about the stories that are written in the stars, by all cultures, for so long.

Keigo hears, but he’s far more focused on how he wishes you were even closer.

...

After that night, you always share the same couch. 

You face forward, right leg always extended and stiff-looking. Keigo doesn’t mind, hardly notices. He faces you, fragile back bandaged and kept away from the unforgiving grit of the uncomfortable couch. It looks a bit uncomfortable, the posing of it all, but with the words flowing easier, neither of you mind.

You keep showing him stars, the constellations you can remember and see in the night sky. 

Keigo makes fun and crafts his own, connecting new dots and winding stories about them.

“See those three there?” He guides your hand, close enough to share your breath. “That’s the comb of the chicken. Star comb, if you will.”

You snort, rolling your eyes and pulling your hand from his grip, “There’s no cock in the stars, pretty eyes. Chickens can’t fly anyways.”

You both freeze.

Keigo’s mouth goes dry—

Chicken can’t fly.

As much as you’re both learning to be human again, there isn’t talk of your injuries. Maybe, there’s mutual curiosity (you’ve been here two months. just for a broken arm, why?), but like fuck Keigo wants to broach the subject.

“S-sorry,” you stumble over your words, physically retreating. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

It is a fact, chickens can’t fly, but Keigo isn’t a chicken. He’s a debauched, defamed hero whose home is the same set of a milky white, hospital ward walls. Once, a real hero, before the war, before selling his morals just for a chance at rest, before blue flame— burning— 

“Pretty eyes,” Your voice trembles, shaking and lonesome. “Come back here, now. Come on.”

You’re holding his cheeks, unkempt nails pressing (blessedly) a bit too hard into his cheeks. The heat of you is so close, almost scalding him, but he wants more of it, more of the heat that doesn’t burn—

“You’re okay, pretty eyes, s-see?” You hold yourself together, jerking your head to the wide window and glittering stars. “We’re just stargazing.” 

Keigo’s has tears leaking down his face, but neither of you acknowledge them. You release him, quietly spinning another tale about a hero hung in the cosmos. He thanks you for it silently by tugging you into his side. 

(It was the first night you really touched him.)

(The light in your eyes was so close, he wanted it all for himself.)

...

They’re running out of healers to try.

From the weakest to the strongest quirk, no one could revive his dead wings. There was no root to push from the scar tissue, nor resolve left in Keigo to try and make new pins and feathers sprout.

His back isn’t fertile. It’s just as poisoned as the rest of him.

...

He wonders where you disappear to during the day. He takes his strolls then, too. Waves to nurses these days, not charming, just friendly, trying to make a little brightness. 

There’s one day where he asks one of the nurses he knows best for a pair of scissors.

She looks at him, worried, “Don’t tell me we need to put you on psych watch.”

“What? No,” Keigo shakes his head, shaggy hair quivering around the frame of his face. “I just need a bit of a haircut.” 

“... We can ask the Commission to bring someone in—”

“I can do it myself.”

She doesn’t argue with the firmness of his voice, rather, she hands him a pair of safety scissors with bright purple handles. They’re for a child, but Keigo’s fine with that. They’d do. 

When he was younger, and in a pinch (and so poor he tried to eat grass and lick scraps from metallic packaging of discarded junk food wrappers) he’d cut his hair with his own feathers.

Safety scissors would be even easier.

It did mean that he had to confront his own visage, which he had gotten too good at avoiding.

The bathroom in his room is small, it would’ve been claustrophobic if he was still carrying a twenty-five-foot wingspan. 

But, he isn’t. It was just him and the scars on his back that he definitely wasn’t ready to see. 

He’s caught glimpses of himself over the past weeks, but nothing substantial. No view that would’ve given himself time to scrutinize over his imperfection. 

The dull hospital mirror reveals too much about him. It feels too vulnerable, makes his chest tighten, as he stares himself in his ‘pretty eyes’.

Purple stamps below his eyes, probably not from sleeplessness itself, just the sheer exhaustion of living. The one under his left is an odd maroon color, mixing with the scar that is burned into that half of his face.

The skin was once soft, plump cheeks always tended too and well taken care of by expensive skincare products. Now, it’s charred and gaunt. Healing, but still obviously scarred heavy and deep.  The weak beard he’s been growing (accidently) is patchy around the thickened tissue. 

It bothers him— 

It doesn’t look like him in the mirror. 

It helps to take care of himself for the first time in a long while. 

He shaves with the cheap foam and single blade razor they’d given him in the toiletries pack the first days he was there, while he was still numbed out and half-dead. The metal glides over his skin, stripping away the numbness just a little. The stubble and cream slide down the drain and away.

His hair is different. The waves had for so long been pushed back and held that way with the winds of his flights. The longer, feathery patches now hang around his face, dangling down and mingling with the too-long sections that curl over his ears and down his neck.

Wetting his hair, he cuts away what he can. 

It’s blunt, messy, and not elegant. 

All the same, the trim feels good. 

Though, his mood goes sour when the screaming starts for the day.

The far wall of the bathroom was shared by him and his shrieking neighbor, and he took great care to never shower when they were singing their awful chorus. It grates on his ears; he should’ve been a bit empathetic to their suffering, but he didn’t care that much. It was so regular, that the screaming that might’ve once sent each one of his feathers (don’t think about, don’t fucking think about it) sharp as the razor in his hand, didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Just a poke at his temple, a jab and a drop of water that irks him more than anything else.

It is a... somewhat pleasant distraction. He can focus more on his fellow patient than his own haggard appearance, the scar, the lack of red at his back— 

It’s all okay, ‘okay’, until the patient starts babbling.

“M-make it stop!” 

Keigo stills.

A scream tears through the drywall. Even without his wings, it makes him thrum, far-too sensitive.

“Help!” The voice yelps. “HELP!” 

There’s a thud and thump from the other room.

“Please, please!”

Keigo’s heart stutters in his chest, and the razor falls from his hand, clattering into the sink.

“MAKE IT STOP!”

It’s you.

It’s your screaming and shrieking that’s burrowed in his ears. It’s your voice that’s trembling in desperation that has him running out of his room, nearly pulling out his IVs as the pole teeters and follows behind him. 

Why are you screaming?

Why have you always been screaming?

A nurse is trying to stop him, urging him to settle but he can’t. There's an urgency in his chest he hasn’t felt since back before and he has to heed it. He needs to.

He pulls his forearm from the nurse’s grasp, hissing in his own pain, muscles pulling and aching with disuse but he doesn’t care.

The nurses drag him back from your door, and they almost have him, almost have him on the ground.

And then he smells burning—

Cloth.

Flesh.

And something in him snaps.

He clocks the nearest nurse with a tight fist, ignoring his atrophied muscles and kicking with everything he could muster.

They release him, probably out of shock. (He’d been such a model patient, so complacent and quiet until then.) 

Then, he stumbles into your room, and sees you, and wants to die.

...

There’s plenty of times in his life where Keigo felt like an animal. When the Commission first got their hands on him, they took to studying and picking his quirk about to figure out the most efficient way to rebuild it to their needs and uses. Now then, he felt very much like an experiment, only half-human. He was too young to really ‘get’ it, but the feeling persisted.

Sometimes, he felt similarly when he played celebrity. The talk shows, the modeling and media felt hoops he had to jump through just to get a decent night’s sleep. It was an additional job aside from heroics, one he excelled at and entertained him. But that didn’t mean each flash of a camera didn’t suck him dry of a bit of his dignity. 

He was sure you had to be feeling similarly.

You’re writhing and arching in your bed, curls of smoke rising from your papery hospital gown. Every machine in your room is screaming with you, bloody and loud and angry—

And scared. Keigo recognized well, and it drove pins into his heart to realize it was you.

It’s even worse when he realizes some part of you is burning. 

At your bedside, he freezes.

Nylon straps wrap around your wrist, around your cast, and keep you held tight to the bed. You’re tied down, held to the plastic bed frame as you wretch and scream.

You don’t even notice him.

The smoke rises from your burning hospital gown. He rips it away, tears the burning section away with his shaking hand. It’s crass, and Keigo sees a bit too much.  The gauze wrapping your leg below is burning as well, in little veins of char that burns black and smoldering. 

Keigo tears it all away, he tears and tears—

And then he sees the wound.

He was trained, once, to see this type of horror and not bat an eye. That training was gone, and all that remained was his starshine with a writhing, molten wound.

Keigo is numb as the nurses drag him back to his room, trying to decide if he prefers the apathy and numbness to injury that his old heroism gave him, or the blinding pain of empathy when someone you... care about is hurt.

He can’t decide which he’d rather suffer with. 

...

You appear in the common room a few nights later.

Keigo still takes his walks in the late evening, even if you aren’t there. If anything, he needs them more. He’s restless, always listening for the screams or howls from the next room over. His annoyance towards them was gone, and all that remained was a concern that knotted in the pit of his stomach. 

There’s a sigh of relief on his lips when he finds you, nestled into a pile of blankets with your IV pole, watching the stars with sad eyes.

He joins you on your couch, cracking a decent joke that you don’t respond to.

Then, there’s silence.

It’s as loud as the stars are bright. The expanse of sound is filled by the hum of the cold air and distant beeping.

“I’m sorry,” Your voice shakes. “You shouldn’t have seen me like that. It’s not... Easy to look at. Or, I imagine it’s not.”

Keigo wants to rip the apology from your tongue and burn it.

“No, please, it’s alright,” He’s begging too much. “I get it.”

As much as he can, anyways.

You’re quiet again, biting your lip so hard it must be close to breaking skin.

“Can we... talk about things?” You ask, softer. “I can’t keep pretending.”

“...’Pretending’?” Keigo knows, but he selfishly wants to hear you say it.

“Well, you didn’t think I’ve been here for two months for my bum arm, right?” You laugh weakly. “And I’m well-aware that you don’t have wings.”

We just don’t talk about it. 

“It’s nicer to look at the stars and pretend everything’s fine,” Keigo lays the statement down and regrets it.

Your fist tightens, jaw clenching.

And there’s more silence.

It’s deafening to Keigo, he wants to speak, scream, but you’re quiet next to him. He can fill voids with his voice so, so easily, yet he turns in on himself.

“I know, it’s all hard,” Tears drip down from your words, though your cheeks remain dry. “I know, but there was a War two months ago, and we’re still holed up in a place like this, and we never talk about why.”

You turn to him, light dancing slowly in your eyes. Your lips part to speak, but no sound comes out.

“... I didn’t want to ask.” Keigo speaks, gaze shifting down to your leg. He questioned why a broken arm would keep you here, but you can’t just ask that. “It’s bad form to ask a stranger about their injuries unnecessarily when they’re traumatized.”

“But we’re not strangers, not anymore.”

Keigo can’t disagree. 

...

You had been in a conbini when Gigantomakia tore through your little suburb. It was a few miles away, but the ground shook as if the goliath was just outside the automatic doors.

Your demon was near, though.

It was a man from the PLF who tore into you so badly. Just some random, emboldened civilian who ascribed to Destro’s ideology hard enough to think about taking out his frustrations on ‘weaker-quirked’ individuals.

That meant the young couple getting slushies in the corner, the old man behind the cash register, and you.

(You’d told your roommate you’d be home quick to help her study—)

(Your roommate is dead, under several tons of rubble.)

“The old man died before the heroes even started trying to rescue anyone. The couple was begging each other to hold on, but only one of them lasted. He died within a few weeks of being taken here.”

There was just you.

You’d hardly been touched by the man, the fucking villain, who’d set his mark on you. But it was more than enough to leave a writhing scar.

Keigo asks to see it, and quietly, you oblige him.

You’re in a gown, you always have been. The hem of it is pulled up by your visibility shaking fingers, and slowly reveals the scar in the lowlight of the ever-present lamp. He’d seen it once, but that didn’t change how startling it was. 

It’s molten.

The skin is gnarled, twisting and scarred worse than anything Keigo’s ever seen. It was like the gore of a torn flesh was frozen over your right side, from your calf, to your thighs to your pretty hips—

“It goes higher, but that’s not exactly couth to show you,” you joke, but neither of you laugh. 

“... It’s not moving anymore?”

“Oh, yeah. It calms down, when it’s dark. Nighttime and all. It stops being so ornery.” 

Keigo has a laundry list of questions, but with the expression on your face that just bleeds exhaustion into the air, and the fresh burns from the restraints on your wrists, he keeps quiet. 

Maybe, three months ago, he’d jabber on about the injury, try to gode some information out on the villain, profile him, track him and beat the tar out of him for touching you—

But this is the present, and Keigo is a wingless soul. All he has is a prescription for painkillers on a rigid schedule, and the awareness that you both appreciate each other.

Keigo scoots to your uninjured side, lifting his arm up and around your shoulder. It hurts, it fucking hurts, but he doesn’t mind.

You tense for a moment, turning to him with wide eyes, scared like he’s never seen.

Then, you melt into him.

...

Keigo’s busy with healers the week, though none speak his language, literally. They’re international, foreign aid that’s been flown in to try to pick up the disaster of a society that’s been left in the wake of the War and the dissolution of Tartarus.

None of them make progress. 

As much as it burns (haha) him to his core, he’s accepting the reality, slowly but surely. 

...

Endeavor visits him.

It’s the morning after a particularly sweet night with you. You still sit together in the starlight, though you’ve run out of constellations to show him. It’s less quiet than it used to be, just little banter that flows between the two of you. It feels more genuine than his old bluntness, welcome after so much odd tension when you first started enjoying the heat of each other’s presence and the far-off stars.

You’d taken to spending time together during the day as well... As much as you could. Strapping you to your bed was for your own safety. Your broken arm had snapped the first few days at the hospital because of the severity of your spasms and flares. The nurses keep you wrapped up, but Keigo drags a chair close to your bed and talks to you as much as he can.

It helps you relax.

Though the days fill with tension as you try to negate the inevitability of your molten scar coming to life, nights remain calm.

And so, so sweet.

You’ve taken to tucking into his side, telling him little treasured facts about the cosmos. It’s easier to guide his eyes like that, as your cheek rests over his collarbone. 

It lingers with him, the feeling of your casual touch, so tentatively offered and so graciously received.

He traces his own constellations over your gown, mindful of the flesh beneath that heats beneath his palm when he gets too close.

After one of those wonderful, early nights, Enji Todoroki enters his room with all of the gusto one would expect. Which is not very much, but the sheer presence of him is enough to make Keigo quake.

 Just like the little boy from Kyushu, Keigo regards him with stars in his eyes. 

The hero, not a speck of flame on him (thank god) pulls up a chair near his bed. Keigo sits cross-legged and cocks his head to the side.

“What brings you to my neck of the woods, number one?” Keigo smiles.

“Number fifteen.”

“... What?”

“Since my injuries, I’m mostly on bedrest,” Enji replied, folding his hands on his chin. “I’m number fifteen now, and that number will more than likely just drop. I’m not much of a hero with only one lung. I’m planning to officially retire at the end of the month.”

Keigo’s chest goes tight and it feels like he’s joking. He tosses on a tight smile. 

“This is hardly time for a pillar—“

“I’m no pillar. I never was,” Enji sighs, running a hand over his scarred cheek. “The kids can handle this.”

Keigo breaks so easily these days.

“That’s not fair—” He had been tossed into this all too early and god it fucked him up— 

“Hawks,” Enji sighed. “There’s hardly anyone left to fight. They’re either dead, missing part of themselves, or gone.”

“So, you’re giving up?”

“If I didn’t, I’d die.”

Coward.

No, just honest and smart. 

“Since when are you this selfish?” Keigo’s own words surprise him, but he doesn’t back down. “And this wordy, number one? You’ve changed.”

He spits the last phrase like an insult. He hates himself for it and would hate himself even more for it later. 

Enji’s face remains solid and unwavering. The twitch in his brow is the only indication that Keigo’s words were even heard. 

“Since we lost, Keigo. Things have changed.”

Keigo knew, of course, but it didn’t stop the anger from rolling his belly.

“Oh, like I don’t fucking know,” If Keigo still had his wings, they would’ve been extended and fluffed, angry as the pinched skin of his forehead. 

This was his hero, he couldn’t be giving up too— 

“Rest, Hawks,” Enji stand up, “You deserve it.”

Seems Endeavor really died. Enji’s face is worn, his expression neutral and jaw slack. He looks hollowed out and empty, not an ounce or morsel of fight left in him, even for a flightless bird in need of some encouragement. 

There’s more to be said, but Keigo’s too angry to listen and Enji doesn’t have the energy to try. 

Whatever news the old hero had come to bring was left undelivered. 

...

You settle together the next few nights, both so damn tired, even though you’ve done nothing other than lay around a hospital for so-many weeks. 

The air always vibrates between the two of you, that comfortable warmth shared between mingling breath and senses. Light dances in your eyes, twisting and bouncing like something otherworldly.

(Maybe it is.)

Your fingers lace together, held in Keigo’s lap. You trace the others hand in relaxing little lines and shapes, trying to soothe each other’s wounds, always.

“One of the doctors said the scar might start shrinking,” You break the tender silence, nosing into his jaw in the same way an affectionate cat would. “They’re not entirely sure, but it’s been stable for a few days.”

Keigo’s feathery (don’t think about it) eyebrows shot up, “That’s amazing, and there’s only a few spasms this week, too.”

(He kept good tabs on you, he had to.)

You hummed in agreement, a sad smile playing on your lips as it so often did.

With a quick blink, the light bouncing in your eyes faded, and the world felt a bit colder.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I get out of here,” You pressed closer to him. “There’s shelters, and some cities are taking refugees, but I don’t—”

Your jaw clicks shut, brow furrowed and mood soured.

(Keigo, mind you, is still focusing on the lack of light in your eyes and the chill of the air in the room.) 

Something stirs, deep in his gut, but he doesn’t say anything. How Keigo used to have such a mouth, he didn’t know. These days, all he can is act, like somehow the loss of his wings came with the loss of his tongue.

Tugging you by the waist, mindful of the tender scar, he pulls you close, internally resolving.

...

She, the main Suit, visits him.

(It’s his last visitor at the hospital.)

There are no trumpeters, guards, or the like. It’s just the haggard president, matching Keigo with his dark circles and creased with new wrinkles and far-more grey sections in her slicked back hair.

The air stands still as she pulls up a chair, burying her head in her hands.

She, the Main Suit, has never been one to inquire as to how he is. Many of the others at the Commission were sweet, kind to him in youth, but she was all business. 

Some things never change.

She breaks the silence of the room, “... do you want to be done, Hawks?”

The cords in his chest tighten, gaze going sharper.

He doesn’t answer.

They meet each other’s gazes; twenty years of fucked-up emotion being shared between the pair of them.

“We’ve done everything. Every healer, every quirk, every treatment, conventional or otherwise,” she’s too soft. “There’s nothing left to try.”

He knew that, he had to know that, right?

His throat feels sticky as he swallows down bile, the scars on his back burning anew. It’s somatic, it has to be, but his flesh crawls and writhes just like yours. His starshine. He hates the way his mind is racing, just as fast as it always has, but his body lacks the ability to keep up.

He grounds himself in the thought of you, his starshine. Your body. Your heat. 

His narrow pupils refocus on the light tremble in her shoulders. 

“I’m being honest, so I’ll ask again,” She meets his gaze, grey eyes as soulless and full as ever. “Do you want to be done?”

“Well, obviously I can't fight—” 

“I mean it. All of it, Hawks. Maybe a few media appearances, but all this... shit. You’ve done enough.”

You’ve done enough. 

The words bounce around in his skull.

“Do you want to be done?”

Done with being a hero.

That’s all he’d ever been, right? That is him, he is Hawks, for fuck’s sake, no one other than Dabi (may he rot and die and immolate in hell) even called him his actual name in years.

Keigo is Hawks.

His mouth is dry, and he tries to ignore the tears pricking his eyes. He’s not sure why he’s beginning to cry, and definitely not sure why tension is draining from his shoulders as he sighs out an answer.

“I’ll be done.”

You’ve done enough.

...

Hospital beds are a hot commodity, and now that Keigo had thrown in the towel (along with everyone else) to stop trying with his wings, he was to be discharged within a few days.

(“Just a few more days to adjust your body to your new medications—”)

He’d stopped listening after that.

...

Your last night together is so bittersweet, you taste it on each other’s tongues.

You have an episode early in the day. Your screaming wakes the floor, the burning smell of flesh cementing that it was you.

Keigo’s only half-lucid when he shoves into your room, holding your hands while nurses desperately try to administer pain medication.

It’s too much for you, the crawling edges of the scar once again consuming you in the molten, glowing amber veins of heat that tore through you so terribly.

You sleep the day away. Keigo stays with you for much of it, stroking the bones in the back of your hands. 

...

He fucks you for the first time, that night. 

His own IVs have been removed, he’s to be discharged first thing in the morning—

And he wants one more night of stargazing, please, please—

(Why’s he clutching at you so dearly?) 

But you’re not in the common room. 

Rather, you’re under a few thin blankets, eyes tired and lightless. Your arm is out of its cast, laying over the bed clothes. It scares him shitless at first as he tentatively enters. It’s you though, and the moment you see him, it’s like a flame, a good one, heats the room full and wide. A few specks of light dance in between your irises as your skin crinkles in a gentle smile.

You both know he’s leaving tomorrow.

The knowledge settles in the room like a weight that neither of you can move. So, Keigo takes to it and does what he can.

As opposed to his normal perch next to his bed, he sits beside you, removing the restraints on your wrists and helping you to sit up.

Keigo fishes around in his pocket, pulling out a folded square of paper and placing it at your bedside. It’s his phone number, an odd detail. Relationships usually shared far-earlier.

But there is nothing linear or normal about the two of you, or the situation you both sit and stewed in.

You both are making peace with it at your own pace.

The bed creaks as you move to sit beside him, legs dangling from the bed. There’s gooseflesh beneath your gown, the boring pattern obscured by the darkness of the room, but the molten lines of the scar ever-visible.

“I’m glad you’re getting out of here.”

But I wish that you weren’t leaving.

His hand finds your waist, careful like he always is, but so giving in the same breath. 

“I am too. It’ll be nice to be.”

But I’m going to miss you.

It’s inherent, and has been forever. Since the moment you both stargazed in the common room and watched the worlds high above twist and shine without regard to your own hells, you’ve been ensnared in the other and neither of you have a want or need to let go.

Even with the inevitably of progress.

Keigo drowns in these thoughts, and has been since Endeavor visited and he was reminded of the harsh reality just outside of their tree-ringed prison. The reality he has to return to—

He presses his lips to yours, more desperate and needy than he had before.

Keigo had taken his share of you before, little pecks and the rub of the bridge of his nose over your jaw and cheeks. He had been a bit greedier with his hands, uncaring of the eyes of the night nurses when he’d touched you in the common room.

But he’s insatiable that last night.

The sheets of the plastic bed are too scratchy, they’re too harsh for you, and it burns Keigo to his core as he lowers you down. He cradles what he can, as your fingers latch onto his clothes (real clothes) and tug him as close as you can get.

The machines in your room cry, but they’re forgotten. 

You nip at his bottom lip, dragging yours across his clean-shaven jaw before laying into his neck with kiss after kiss. His muscles shake, holding him over you, both of you atrophied but uncaring.

You suck a deep, throbbing bruise on the fragile skin of his neck. It’s something dark that won’t fade for a week. The thought stirs something in his chest, a white-hot feeling that wants to crack his ribs and consume him. He doesn’t give in, he can’t—

“Stay with me, pretty eyes,” you whisper, so sweet and gentle as you push floppy strands of hair from his face. “Stay here, just for a little while longer.”

The reminder jolts him back, back to you, and the way your body (so tired, but unwavering) jumps and rolls under his touch. He’s a glutton for attention, always has been, but your particular brand and sounds keep pulse hot and hard. 

Shaky fingers pull his shirt over his head, sweaty palms push the gown over your hips. By the starlight, you’re both seeing too much of each other, but this is a goodbye, there’s no time to dwell on the discomfort.

Keigo tries to be careful as he adjusts your legs, tries to be mindful of the raw skin and flesh that makes you whine and half-writhe. You clutch at him, still trying to pull him closer despite the proximity and heat, like you need him as opposed to just wanting him. 

There’s no fanfare in it, just more rushed kisses and the swirling of fingertips over covered clit. You catch each other’s gasps in the mingling of breaths you share. It’s choking, suffocating, yet entirely not enough. You beg, quietly, for more. Your fingers latch onto his wrist and urge him to help pull your panties off and away.

More, more, more. 

By the time he slides into you, you're still tense, but so is he, and in a pile of tension and fear and wishful-thinking, you both come undone, and undone, and undone— 

...

Keigo leaves the next morning. 

The press is there, flash bulbs blinding him after so long with just fluorescents and starlight. He manages an easy wave or two, no autographs or gleaming smiles, just business and numbness that he needed to hold onto, so he didn’t fucking break.

He slips into the Commission’s car and leaves behind the hospital, you, and its wall of man-laid greenery and prays to forget it all quickly. He has enough to mourn. 

...

Keigo wants to off himself when he arrives back at his penthouse. 

How can he not?

His ‘home’ (if he couldn’t even call it that) is a dusty, time capsule of everything before. Before he got fucked up with the League, before the PLF, before the war, before Jin—

Every untouched bit of his life from when it was a few, precious fractions better stands unturned. A discarded jacket, wing slits visible and frayed. Scattered dead feathers that make his skin crawl. Memorabilia too, old merchandise that he never cared much about, but he definitely didn’t need to be seeing it now that ‘Hawks’ had burned up and died. 

All disgusting reminders. 

Something burning fills the base of his skull when his gaze fixates on one of the old plumes. He reaches out to touch the spine of it, instinctually expecting a little jolt of feeling from it, like he always had. 

But there’s nothing. It’s dead, decaying, and so is he. 

The reality of it breaks him, quick, hard and hot. He burns alive a second time. 

He clears the liquor cabinet while blaring music from his over-priced stereo system loud enough to make his ears ache and throb. The music isn’t drowning anything out, but it’s better to pretend.

He finds a bottle of old pills and downs them with a few swigs of expensive whiskey and lets go.

...

When he comes to, he’s staring into a smashed mirror, with his own nails crusted in blood from thin welts in the skin of the scar on his face.

Much to his chagrin, he hasn’t forgotten anything. The memories of blue flames, red feathers, and the smell of your skin mixed with isopropyl alcohol feel brighter than ever. He grounds on them as he sobers up, latching onto the pain of his scar tissue and the solace you gave. 

And won’t ever give him again.

Something in him wilts as he defeatedly goes to his phone, arranging any number of things to get him the fuck out.

...

The penthouse is sold, his more important belongings gathered in bland boxes. 

And he leaves. There’s no sentiment holding him there, not anymore.  

Fukuoka is gone and some distant memory as he drives (yes, he forgot that he had that skill) him and his things to his new home.

His penthouse had been immaculate. Crisp interior design, new shapes and colors that were on trend. He was hardly home to appreciate the modern beauty of it, but he’d received enough compliments from random hookups to know that it landed aesthetically.

But honestly?

Who the fuck cared?

His penthouse had been sold to the highest bidder and far behind as he arrives at his new, high home in the sleekness of his far-too fancy, disused car.

...

...

He gets a call from an unknown number, another one, on some snowy day, deep in winter. 

Keigo debates answering it. He almost lets it slip to voicemail. The only calls worth answering are the handful from the Commission that he has to heed, or the odd one from Rumi, Fuyumi, and on occasion, Endeavor.

Not random numbers, he has no patience for it. 

Yet, he answers it lazily.

“Washed up hero, how can I help you?”

“P-Pretty eyes?”

His heart stutters in his chest, he swears— 

“Starshine?” He sounds breathless, the air leached from his chest as he white-knuckles his thighs.

He’d given up on you contacting him, yet there you were, or at least your voice, mechanical and high bouncing around preciously in the walls of the cabin

There’s a moment of silence, nearly, just your light breathing that receiver picks up.

Your voice trembles when you break it, “Y-yeah, it’s me, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call—”

You don’t need to be sorry; he would wait for you forever, and then some. 

“I d-don’t actually have a phone? Mine got trashed, uh, back then. I’m on the hospital’s line.”

Keigo hadn’t really considered that, he’s slipped the paper with his number on your bedside without a thought. 

How much had you lost?

“No worries, chickadee,” Keigo is sure his smile is audible. “Why call now? Miss me too much?”

He had no idea.

You laugh, though it soured as you spoke, “I get discharged tomorrow.”

Keigo’s heart seizes again and he’s sure he’s going to go into cardiac arrest.

“The guy who gave me the scar and all? He fucked up a few other people, word eventually got here. Once the scar stops... glowing, it rests. If you make it until then, you’re good.”

And alive.

“The whole injury is stable, has been for a week now,” Surprisingly, there’s no relief in your voice. “They need my bed, so they’re releasing me.”

No, no, no.

Where will you go?

Keigo doesn’t say it, but the question hangs in the air and is quickly answered.

“They got me a spot in one of the shelters close by... It’s only a couple hours by train!” You try to sound happy, but it’s so hollow and unnatural; it makes Keigo physically sit up.

No, no, no.

That won’t do.

“... What won’t do?” 

Keigo hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud.

Something is buried in his chest, something warm and molten, like the old veins of your scar, just kinder and better. It’s full of urges, so seldom used, selectively as needed throughout his career as a hero.

The need to keep something precious safe. 

The thing hasn’t thrashed in months.

Yet now? It’s practically screaming.

“Pretty eyes?” You sound scared through the phone. “A-Are you alright? I can call back—”

“No, don’t, do not.” Keigo lets the flame fill his chest, welcoming it. “You’re not going to that shelter.”

He has something to protect.

“I don’t have another choice—”

Someone.

“You do.” Keigo keeps his voice even, the muscles in his back writhing. If he still had his wings, they’d be puffed out and large. Impassioned with feeling he finally let breath between his ribs. “I’ll come get you, tomorrow.”

“... P-Pardon?”

He doesn’t hesitate, and for a moment, he starts to feel like his old self. 

“Come home with me, starshine.”

++++++

thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!! 💗

look out for parts 2 and 3!!!💞

ko-fi

[harveywritings92]

Bnha dad scenarios: Child default names and background stories.

[Tw: mentions of abortion.]

Dabi's kid/Ayane Name meaning: Kanji (Aya) meaning "Color" and (Ne) meaning sound.

Don't need to tell you that his little Firefly wasn't exactly planned, in fact he was completely blindsided when he found his FWB (now common law wife) was pregnant, he ran away! but, not from her... He disappeared for a couple days then showed up a while later in disguise duffle-bag in hand telling her to hurry and start packing up whatever she can carry; cuz they were leaving! Dabi and your mom relocated to a very small town in the countryside where the population is very small.

(like you could fit the whole township into a Boeing 737 small, and your nearest neighbor was 15 minutes away....)

From there they opened and run a roadhouse bar/motel. Dabi didn't marry his Fairy just because she was pregnant, he caught the feelings a long time ago and had been planning to runaway with her way before Ayane was even a distant thought, her impending arrival just pushed his plans forward. Ayane looks like her mother but her [y/hc] hair has little red streaks and she has partial heterochromia in her eyes, they look like someone colored them cerulean, but remembered halfway through that they were supposed to be y/ec, she also has Dabi's cocky smirk.

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

Katsuki's kid/Haruka name meaning:  Distant blossom: Uses the Kanji "Haru" in the word "Distant"  combined with the kanji "Ka" in "blossom".

 Having kids was very distant thought in the back of Katsuki's mind not that he didn't want any, He just thought he wouldn't have any, so then his wife told him that they were having a baby. he was over the moon, he didn't care if it was boy or girl just so long as they were happy and healthy, however as soon as it was confirmed that the the baby in his wife's belly was a girl.

Katsuki went scorched-earth on any boys that went near his little girl and Haruka has him wrapped around her little finger. She's his spoiled princess. Haruka looks like a carbon copy of her mom, but has her dad's temperament and potty mouth, she has partial heterochromia both eyes they're half red-half [y/ec]. 

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

Shigaraki's kid/Kururi name meaning:  Black Emerald: "Ku" from the kanji "Black" and "Ruri" meaning "Emerald". (Ngl she was also named after Kurogiri)

 He was completely blindsided when he found out his queen was having his child, he didn't know what to do with it, he considered having it "taken care of" but his queen threatened to leave him if he ever suggested that again! he was huffy and pouty during the whole pregnancy.  

He was also very protective, usually lingering near by or stalking his wife when she was out and about being careful of in case any heroes or lesser NPCs messed with her, then when the baby was finally born... and he held her for the first time, it was like "Holy crap! I made this...!" and suddenly the world wasn't looking so bleak anymore... and now that his wife is gone (rip) Shigaraki's main focus (as aside villainy) was on his daughter and making the future bright for her.

Kururi though not touch starved she is a bit wary of physical affection, and very socially awkward often preferring to read and or play videogames over socializing with other humans, her only friend seems to be Ayane (their friendship is similar to Orin and April from Parks and rec), They hang out mainly because Shigaraki wanted her have some sense of normality that he was deprived as child. however due to her quirk's nature and the guilt she feels over her mother's death, she has a complex over her hands, she doesn't like it when people try holding them or touching them, often seen wearing gloves or keeping them in her pockets. 

Kururi looks like her mom but has a little mole under her chin and has heterochromia her left eye is red while her right [y/ec] and her [y/hc] hair has a single blueish-white streak in it.

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

Hawks-Keigo's kid/ Griffin or Finny: as in Griffin the mythical creature.

Keigo and his late wife chose that name because of their respective quirks, His wife had some feline traits cat eyes, and cat ears, it was kind of joke between their two names [Cheshire cat and a Hawk] then they first met, Keigo wasn't really interested in his wife at first, but that didn't stop her! so Keigo said if she could get Endeavor to laugh he'll take her on a date!

So she goes up to Endeavor and says "What happens when a hawk mates with a cat?..." The current number 1 looked at her bemused. "The English call it a Griffin, but I call it a cawk!" Hawks winced It was soo cringy, obscene and made no sense!... But it worked! Endeavor's lips twitched and he snorted! before breaking out in low chuckles, the rest is history.

Though his avian traits seemed to have overrode his wife's feline traits, I.e. {Finny has little red wings on her head instead of cat ears, and Keigo eye brows, However everything else is from his wife. the reality slip quirk {y/hc} hair and {y/eye} etc.

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

Kirishima's kid/Akara: Name meaning "Red Lightning" {Aka} meaning Red and [Ra] from the word Rai meaning lightning.

Eijirou and his wife thought they were having a boy so Akara's name was originally going to be Akahito "the red warrior" so when the baby that came out was obviously a girl, he and his wife panicked and couldn't figure out or agree on a new name, until Mina suggest a holding raffle everyone wrote a name down and put it in a hat. and the first name they pulled will be their daughter's name, they pulled out Denki's choice and settled on it and considering Akara's quirk: Hard-charge. it fits pretty well. 

(She can harden her skin like her dad. however, with every hit she takes, she can absorb kinetic energy from it, the energy turns into electricity which she can use to deliver powerful electric discharge attacks.) 

Her mom is Denki's cousin by the way... Her mom's Quirk is called Static pinch, she can store small amounts of static electricity and release tiny zaps from her thumb index and middle finger, if she gets close enough to an enemy she use the stored energy in her body like a taser via "Vulcan nerve pinch".

  Akara looks like her mother but has her dad's sharp teeth.

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

Shoto's kid/Koyuki name meaning "Little snow" kanji [Ko] meaning little and [Yuki] meaning snow.

Much like Katsuki children were a very touchy and distant subject for him, He was was always scared that he'll end up just like his father, he was adamant on having no kids, so when his wife announced that she was pregnant and keeping it, Shoto had a panic attack and ran off  for a couple days, until she calls Dabi who tracked him down and talked some sense into him...

(after punching him in the face for ditching his pregnant wife.) The his older brother pretty much told Shoto he's letting Enji win running off like that, and reminds him that they're both Endeavor's sons, but they are not their father, and will never be their father, they're better than him... and with that Dabi send his younger brother back his worried wife, Shoto apologizes and is working to prove he's not like his father. 

He keeps his daughter away from her grandfather who keeps badgering Shoto for another grandchild as he doesn't see Koyuki's quirk (Frost-breath) taking her anywhere in the future, Shoto has more or less politely told his father to go and pound sand.... as it was very difficult for Shoto's wife to conceive children and her pregnancy and birth was very stressful and traumatic for them, Koyuki was born prematurely and his wife had to stay in the hospital with a severe case of the flu.

Koyuki like  Shoto has bi-color hair on the left it's red and on the right it's [y/hc] she has her mom [y/ec] eyes she’s very happy and but timid child and often seen clinging to one of her parent's legs when stranger approaches, though she get's a bit more confident with time.

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

Izuku's kid/ Hinamori Name meaning: "sunshine forest" combines the kanji [Hina] for sunshine and the kanji [Mori] for Forest.

Not a surprise when he the number 1 hero's wife started showing a baby-bump a year and a half after their wedding, however what came as a surprise was how protective Izuku became when Reporters and his more eccentric fans didn't know how to keep their boundaries, they would not stop staring at his wife's boobs and trying to touch her belly, Izuku would block their view or slap their hands away and repeat. "Your not my mother or her (Relative.) Don't touch my wife..." he'd discharge his quirk a bit showing that he wasn't kidding around... 

The attention seem to blow over once Hinamori was born mainly due to Izuku buying a house in a gated community so the press couldn't get in so easily and bother the new family, Hinamori looks like her mom but she her y/hc hair is wild like Izuku's and she has his freckles, she likes reading and is often found in Izuku's study reading his old hero observation books. and has actually been working on some of her own, as Izuku has found her little dinosaur notebook with observations on Haruka, Koyuki and Akara. 

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

Denki's kid: Raika name meaning: Lightning flower uses the kanji [Rai] for lightning and the kanji [Ka] from flower. 

Raika wasn't exactly planned... See Denki and his little lady were on vacation see? there was this music festival in Niagara-falls, and well...He and his wife had few too many and well details are bit blurred, but... Raika may or may not have been conceived in a handicap stall, but if she ever were to ask everyone's been told to say it was after Denki recued his wife from a villain holding her hostage and Raika was the end result of his reward, luckily she doesn't seem really interested in knowing her parents sexual history.

So there's a good chance shell never know! Raika has her dad's quirk, her hair is y/hc with a yellow/black lighting bolt streaked into it and her y/ec eyes flash yellow when using her quirk. 

[angelthebedsheet]

If you’re ok with it, could you do Hawks, Todoroki, Shinsou, Bakugo and Kaminari with a black support engineer s/o with big curly hair and stretched ears? Maybe she wears gauges with their hero theme? Just some cute fluff!

a/n: oooooh bitch okayyyyy!! i like that! hawks my lil bird bitch ✋🏽🥺

your quirk! super brain.

what is it? you have the ability to memorize things easily, piece complex puzzles together, make great strategies. you essentially are a megamind. you are incredibly smart invention-wise. you are skilled in support hero work so you are one of the go to’s for hero modifications, suits and basic designs.

hero name? hakim: the tinker hero

why the name hakim? from what i searched up it has arabic and african significance and it’s one of the 99 names based on the attributes of Allah. the two famous bearers of this name were hakim ajmal khan, the india physician and hakim muhammad saeed, a pakistani medical researcher. if i got any of this wrong please message me so i can fix this! i want to stay as respectful as possible as i love to include names that hold a message!

i might have to split this into two parts bc this gets long!! i just assumed reader is fem presenting bc you can use feminine pronouns and not be a girl like me. also disclaimer i only take 4 characters at a time per request but i dont think at the time of this request i had finalized my requirements in my masterlist so IMMA LET IT SLIDE. sorry this is late as SHIT. lets get it!

——————————————————————————

Hawks

okay we all know he’s a lil shit

and we all know how he be

you are working on your next commission piece in your studio when your window opens

you can only sigh

“what happened kei.”

“now birdie dont get mad now okay”

“what did you do.”

“i may have.... broke my visor and destroyed my jacket?”

how the fuck do you do that.

“what.”

“ahahah...”

boot to the face

when you two were first dating

which was back in hs

you helped him figure out how his hero costume would be along with how they would sit comfortably on his wings

i mean i love the idea of you roasting him while measuring him

“where’s your fuckin DRIP kei.”

“y/n PLEASE. i came here to get a new costume not get slandered”

“well you jus gon have to deal with it sugar, especially when you look like a mess.”

he had definitely bought you so many gauges that have little red feathers hanging from it

or simply his initials hanging from it to the point where you just wear one of his feathers around your neck

marking his territory and making sure you are safe

protective and trendy!

i hc that he has alot of bird like tendencies so you probably have to stop him from stealing the lil shiny things you have

your nuts and bolts allat

“keigo put my bolt down”

“but its so SHINY”

“NO.”

cue keigo’s WHINING

sometimes he just sits on his stool you put for him and play with your ears

like he’ll stare at them and ask you questions

“do they hurt?”

“kei im trying to focus”

“like they’re all stretched how long did they take?”

or he’ll bounce your curls

you’re just polishing a piece of hero gear

here comes kei silently sitting on his stool and gently grabbing a strand of your hair

pulling it down then you hear a quiet

“boing”

i hc that kei has adhd, has lil tic and has to fidget

(can you tell i self project onto majority of them)

(i mean hawks’ quirk must be IMMACULATE for fidgeting 😫👌🏽👌🏽)

(its dead his fault why i have a pretty bird tic)

and one day

“kei baby, here.” you said as you handed him a box. he cocked his head slightly as he looked at it. “what is this, dove?” he asked as he took the box. “well, i made you something to help with your fidgets.” you said as you rubbed the back of your neck. his wings puffed out as he smiled. he opened the box and gasped. you watched as his eyes brightened while he took out the keychain fidget toy. it has multiple sides to it. metal rings connected by two hoops, red, white and beige plastic bangs that were at the ends with two small red feathers at the chains. you watched as he bit his lips and tried not to cause a big reaction. “do you like it, pretty bird?” you asked. he nodded and pulled you into a hug. “thank you so much, baby.” he said into your shoulder. “and you can hook it onto your pants. cute, right?” you said as you gently rubbed his back. “yep, i’m cuddling the fuck outta you. lets go.” he said as he let you go and sweeped you up into his arms. you squealed with a giggle and wrapped your arms around his neck as he ran to the bedroom.

Todoroki Shouto

yall are in hs okay no time skips lmao

todoroki loves EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU

i mean he has so many sneaky pics of you working on your projects

oil on the cheek, gloves, goggles

straight up working in your zone

he will post on his story sometimes like

“look at my s/o”

“they’re working hard”

dry ass cute shit yk?

he carries scrunchies and glass cleaners 24/7

you take your projects on the go so he’ll just take out a scrunchie and neatly pull them curls back into a pineapple

my mans lowkey was struggling at first bc DAMN

CURLS BE FIGHTIN HIM

love the idea of todoroki watching youtube tutorials bc he’s TIRED of getting his ass BEAT by them

he kinda gets a lil grossed out when you take out your gauges and your earlobe kinda just dangles

like earrings in? cool asf

them out? my mans fold like a lawn chair. he looks away or makes a stink face

“are they in?”

“yes they’re in you lil baby. you can try attempted murder but you can’t look at stretched earlobes?”

“shut UP”

he does internally swoon when you put in gauges that match his hair colour

like you love him that much? okay i see

he’s amazed by how you work

sometimes he’ll just stand behind you like a lil sibling in the door way

“mom said it’s my turn on the xbox.”

(not at how me and todoroki are both the youngest siblings)

when you saw his first hero costume you busted out LAUGHING

that day you roasted todoroki to the point where he left

“janitor looking ass. my nigga where you goin? a space adventure? scary ass.”

“😐 are you done.”

“space jam headass, lookin like a g.i joe action figure. terminator lookin ass.”

“alright im leaving”

“no wait come back andjajdjsba”

i hc that todoroki has panic and anxiety attacks and things like that

so you made him a little sumn sumn for his anxiety

“candy, look here for a second?” you called out, making todoroki hum and look up from his notebook. “what happened?” he asked as he cocked his head slightly. “made you something.” you said as you handed him a small box. his eyes light up as he gently took the box. “really? are you sure?” he questioned. you only nodded with a smile as you placed your pencil behind your ear. you watched as he carefully opened the box. he pulled out a tan clicker toy and smiled confused. “what’s this, bub?” he questioned as he placed the box down. “a fidget toy i made for you that can help with your anxiety. it can help ground you when you feel overwhelmed? hopefully? oh! it also has a music box feature.” you said as you pointed at the back of the toy. he silently turned the toy around and you leaned over and pressed a button that played a music box version of a pearl by mitski. you watched as his shoulders loosened up at the sound of his favorite song. he placed the toy down while he tried to hold his smile back. he sighed and smiled widely. “thank you, i love it, bubba.” he said sweetly. “i’m glad you like it.” you whispered. “may i kiss you?” he asked. you simply nodded before he gently cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your lips. you pulled him into a hug.

[catboyclarity]

berk..... and uuuuh? pmmm for the ask game

ITS BERK TIME BABYYYY

Fav male character:

Guts and Griffith about equally but Guts means more to me emotionally bc well. He’s just like me fr (abuse victim).

Fav female character:

I would lay down my life for Casca I think.

Least fav:

I wish Wyald from the manga. Was not.

Prettiest character:

I want to put Griffith in my mouth where he will dissolve like a meltaway mint.

Funniest character:

Corkus!! I know lots of folks don’t like him but he’s funny when he’s comic relief while also being a complex and tragic character. I like him.

Also Puck is a funny little guy and I love when he’s a little blob thing next to a super detailed drawing of Guts.

Favorite season (arc):

I will need to finish reading the whole manga before I can answer this. However. The golden age arc has Casca.

Favorite episode:

Episode 24 of the ‘97 anime. The moment where Griffith sees Guts and makes the decision to sacrifice is like…maybe my favorite moment in the series? I could write an essay on it.

Also Wounds from the manga means a lot 2 me.

Favorite romantic ship:

Casguts in the “they invented love and it’s one of the best developed relationships I’ve seen I just want these two traumatized people to find comfort and strength in each other let them be happy please god” and griffguts in the “this is so horrific and toxic and complex and there’s so much present classical homoerotic subtext here I need to dissect it in a lab and write a 20 page paper with citations about it” way.

Fav family relationship:

Band of the Hawk. The whole thing.

Fav friendship:

Judeau’s friendship with Casca and with Guts idk I like it. I like Judeau very much.

Least favorite ship:

I do not know what ppl in this fandom are shipping and I do not care.

PUELLA MAGI MADOKA MAGICA

this show made me gay when I was 14. There are a lot of valid critiques of it but it’s not for you it was for me when I was 14 and trying to figure out if liked girls.

Fav male character:

Lol there are no important men. Kyubey gets called “he” in most translations but kyubey is not a boy. Begone.

Fav female character:

Sayaka i love her more than anything. She is the first fictional character I ever related to which should have let me know I needed mega therapy and also to transition but that took me a while. She is so tragic and her arc devastates me every time.

Least fav character:

I’m going to throw Kyubey off a bridge.

Prettiest character:

I’ve been answering this in the sexual lust sense but I just mean it in the aesthetic sense bc all of the characters. Are. 14. Homura has a very nice design.

Funniest character:

There’s not a lot of comedy!! Kyoko I guess?

Fav season:

It is 12 episodes.

Fav episode:

Episode 9. It makes me cry like a little baby every single time I watch the series.

Fav romantic ship:

Kyosaya is the fucking blueprint for me man. In the owl house answer I did with this ask game I mentioned the kinds of ships that were important to me when I was a baby gay? I meant Kyosaya basically. It has everything. Rivals with attempted friendship. Red/blue. Opposites. Tragedy. It is. The blueprint.

Fav family relationship:

I know the spirit of this is found family but Madoka and her mom really get me man!!!

Fav friendship:

Madoka and Sayaka. They clearly care about each other a lot and it is SO SAD.

Least fav ship:

See my berk answer.

[itsnothingofinterest]

So with the end supposedly approaching (relatively speaking), people have started giving some thought as to who the final threat is really going to be; Tomura Shigaraki or All For One. It’ll definitely be one of them, they’re the strongest and most established villains by a mile; but both have their own reasons for people to think they’ll be the “final boss” of the series. And far be it from me to keep my opinion to myself; I really think it’s going to be Tomura.

I’m not sure if that’s some level of controversial among the fans hoping for Shigaraki’s redemption, as I do believe the alternative’s gotten a lot of traction lately. Because understand that I’m still expecting his redemption too, and don’t expect his hypothetical final boss status to really prevent that. (Practically nothing can, it’s as much a guaranteed outcome at this point as Deku getting his sixth bonus quirk.) Realistically, the only difference would be if he & Deku then team up to fight the evil potato head, or to...just start fixing stuff I guess.

On that note, the eventual redemption is actually one of the reasons I think he’s the better choice. Almost every point of comparison between the two villain I can think of makes Tomura seem like the better choice, actually...with maybe one or two exceptions. So I wanted to go over all those points of comparison & everything they’ve got going for them as endgame villains and why the comperrisons overall seem to favour Tomura as the final boss.

1. Someone who was defeated to the power of just one man

For one, just looking at pure power levels, AFO’s just not as threatening as Tomura; and there’s not really a way to bridge that gap.

Like, Tomura’s obviously more of a threat personally; he’s got the stronger body that was scientifically enhanced, and only he has Decay on top of the AFO quirk and the collection that came with it. It is just a fact that right now, Tomura is far more powerful. And before anyone thinks that AFO could become an equal threat by just taking over & fighting in his body; that’s not true because, along with just more combat experience that doesn’t rely on an arsenal of quirks, Tomura also has that Shimura trick where you remember your origin and become super bad ass. You know, the trick that All Might used to beat AFO in Kamino. In other words, the most dangerous individual in the series right now is the AFO!Tomura body with specifically Tomura in control.

And as long as the slight edge in mentality in Tomura’s favour exists, there’s not really a way to bridge that gap and have AFO take Tomura’s place as the biggest potential threat. Restore or enhance AFO’s original body? That’s just catching it up with AFO in Tomura’s body, which is still behind Tomura in Tomura’s body. Have AFO boost Tomura’s body with him in control? It would still be better with Tomura in control. There’s no scenario where Tomura isn’t the most powerful character in BNHA.

(Well, except maybe AFO weakening him by, say, stripping him of his quirks; but if he has to make things easier for the heroes to become the most powerful, I think that kind of proves my point anyway.)

But one person can only be so dangerous, so lets talk followers. Tomura has a close knit group of friends & allies on top of a vast army super loyal to him specifically that reaches a six digit figure, and AFO...just doesn’t. And I’ll get back to this later; but I don’t think he wants one either. He sticks to just a handful of people useful to him and what’s left of his Nomu. And while maybe that is the better way for him to accomplish his own personal goals, it’s simply not as threatening as the force which Hawks thought could’ve conquered the country if the heroes hadn’t struck first.

Tomura is a country ending threat, who in the right circumstances could fight literally all of the heroes with a chance of winning, and AFO simply isn’t.

2. His own little world

And to return to what I was talking about earlier, I’m not sure he really cares to be either. Like, people say he wants to conquer everything, and I imagine he’d think regaining lots of money & power would be great down the line; but evidence seems to suggest he doesn’t really care much for the country as a whole or any of the major themes being discussed by the actual main characters at the moment.

I mean if he did, he’d probably have rescued the PLF, that army capable of competing with all of hero society. And he probably wouldn’t have told ~10,000 dangerous and powerful villains indebted to him for their freedom to just run amok while he keeps contact with only the ones useful for his personal goals. And he definitively wouldn’t be laying low & sleeping through his enemies lowest moment & giving them a month to recover, also in service to those personal goals. That activity seems to imply those personal goals matter a whole lot more to him than societal conquest.

And what are those goals? Seemingly, taking over Tomura’s body so he can finally steal One For All. To what end, we’re not 100% sure of, but I believe it’s either a) a weird pride thing where he finally has control over his brother who’s rebelled against him for decades upon decades or b) an attempt at immortality as a sentient & transferable body-controlling quirk. Either way it’s some selfish personal thing he just gets others wrapped up in.

He’s incredibly disconnected from the greater themes and conflicts of the story. He seems to have no opinions on heroics besides how people are stupid for attempting them, and no opinion on society besides that it just naturally sucks. He’s mainly just a nuisance for the actual main characters. This self-important old man stuck in his own little world is supposed to be Deku’s final opponent?

Oh, and on that note-

3. Deku who?

We’re also talking about who’s going to be the final obstacle for Deku to face; and the problem with the being AFO is that...they don’t really have much to bounce off of with each other. You might be able to argue slight foil-ment, but they don’t really know each other, nor do they have any kind of connection to each other besides Deku having OFA so he’s AFO’s enemy by default.

(In fact their latest & 2nd convo, which came out as I was drafting this post out, kind of proves that with how AFO basically just shallowly made fun of him for trying to be a hero. That’s basically the extent of their antagonism.)

In fact, I’m like 80% sure this is a major reason for the Dad For One theory existing; just to give them some connection, something to talk about. Because otherwise AFO is just an evil guy known by people Deku knows/wants to save. He’s basically just another, more dangerous Overhaul; who Deku's already fought. And to AFO, Deku’s just another OFA holder acting all high & mighty; which we also already saw him face in the Kamino fight. So what little they do offer each other has already been done for both of them. And there’s nothing wrong with that for carrying a fight, I just wonder if that can really carry the final fight.

Compare that to Shigaraki, who foils Deku in ways so numerous & obvious it’s almost hard to talk about, such as: their position as successors, strategic thinkers, very similar origins, very similar core characters, team players, red shoes, they looked really similar as kids...just to name a few parallels. Contrasting AFO, there is a lot to work with here that would contributed to a good fight that’d double as a battle of ideologies. And admittedly, we know this because it already has, this is also something we’ve seen before; but there’s a lot more unexplored with their conflict, a lot left unsaid that we could see from them arguing their viewpoints. A lot more than from Deku & AFO anyway.

I mean for Pete’s sake; All Might & Shigaraki have more in common and more to talk about than Deku & AFO. That’s a major problem if those two are meant to carry the final battle; which is why I don’t think they are.

4. Just punch him

There’s also the fact that AFO doesn’t really challenge Deku in any real way; and I’m not just talking about how All Might solo-ing him (twice) should logically mean endgame Deku should also be able to solo him. I’m more talking about how...that’s kind of all he’d need to do. If you can just beat AFO up enough then...that’s it, threat over. Wrapped up in a neat little bow.

To compare, Shigaraki is the greatest threat the heroes have ever faced, the victim most in need of saving, and to top it off, he’s got the gall to be both of those things at once. What’s a hero supposed to do with that? That’s a serious question characters are going to have to think about when deciding how to deal with Shigaraki. His position is that of, not just the greatest challenge, but a set of the greatest challenges a hero could face. And that’s before you get into his side representing those oppressed by serious systemic issues that need to be addressed as well; quite possibly simultaneously.

No one needs to address systemic corruption or prejudice to beat AFO though. They just need to punch him real hard. The biggest challenge AFO presents the heroes is “how do we make sure this guy stops being a problem for good when neither our most secure prison, nor removing his head, did the job?”

(Personally, my answer is to have Tomura do it. Because unlike Deku, Tomura actually does have a proper antagonistic relationship with AFO, so he has reason to be the one to end him besides just being the protagonist. Plus he’s under no obligation not to kill, so there’s that.)

And like yeah, that does make AFO the easier guy to deal with, and thus write an ending around (to say nothing of how he's also the most satisfying person to see punched in the face); but does that really mean Horikoshi would want to use him instead of the more interesting option of Tomura? I mean I guess we can’t be sure, there is merit in writing the easy resolution; but I’d prefer the complex finale if I were in his shoes.

5. Horikoshi’s favourite

And lastly there’s just the issue of which of the two Horikoshi’s put more work into. Spoiler alert: it’s not the guy that spent like 200 chapters in jail being menacing every one in a while.

Tomura is by far the more developed between the two, having constantly evolved over the course of the series. And more than just as a character, as described above he’s been developed as the more threatening and challenging conflict for Deku while also reflecting him in a lot of important ways. We’ve seen the growth of his power & influence, we’ve gotten to know & understand his motives, we’ve seen how he’s been failed by heroes before. Everything about him has built him up as the ultimate villain, the most desperate victim, and overall greatest challenge for Deku and the story as a whole to face.

And AFO is...nearly one of those things. Which is pretty much what he was from his first appearance. He has not developed at all over the series, and from what we can tell from his flashbacks, he hasn’t developed at all over the past ~200 years either. (I’m half tempted to call him more inciting incident then character.) What we have with AFO, as far as a character and a villain goes, is pretty much what we’re getting until he’s done. And, well; if Tomura is a better villain & a better pick for final boss than he was then, that gap’s just going to keep growing.

Like, I doubt it really needs stating how Shigaraki is probably the character Horikoshi has put the most work into in the entire series. And a lot of that work, a lot of his development, has gone to the idea of him surpassing AFO or being a villain foil to Deku, who himself is mean to surpass All Might. For his roll to be usurped by the guy he’s meant to surpass just feels like it’s going against that. Like, it’d feel almost as wrong for his character and the story around him than it would for Deku is All Might got his powers back and took over for him as main protagonist. It just doesn’t feel right for Tomura not to be the final villain, is what I’m getting at.

6. ...One saving grace

Okay, but I will admit one thing AFO has going for him that I would be remiss not to bring up. Besides being the most hated character in a series that also has Endeavor in it, I mean. He’s got this one trait that makes him an effective antagonist to anyone in the series; his complete disregard to pretty much every major theme in the series.

I mean think about it; the major themes of Shigaraki’s circle all revolve around trying to fix the society that rejected them; but AFO believes Society just naturally sucks that way as part of human nature, so their cause is doomed. And the heroes’ major themes all revolve around how to become/what it means to be a hero; but AFO believes trying to do good in that society can’t really be done & also it’s ridiculous to believe comic books are real, so their cause is also doomed and they look stupid doing it. So despite not really interacting with anyone’s core conflict or goals in favour of wrapping them up in his own, he still manages a one-sided ideological opposition with nearly every major player in the series; and that’s not nothing.

But, and I completely understand that this is just a matter of opinion, that kind of just leaves him feeling to me like a good antagonist, not a good final antagonist. I’d still prefer it be Tomura even from this perspective, because he’s able to oppose the ideologies of his opponents on purpose & with proper ideologies of his own.

To summarize:

Shigaraki feels the better choice for final boss because he’s more threatening, more interesting, both as a person and as an opponent for Deku specifically, he’s far more directly tied into the themes of the story and their resolution, & he’s had far more set up. AFO is more hated, and his callous disregard for everything everyone else holds important is something I guess, but that’s pretty much all he’s got going for him in compression. I don’t know about you, but I know who I think would carry the conclusion to the series better.

But I also know this isn’t the most popular take among my villain fan colleagues right now. So if anyone disagrees, I welcome any civil discussion about these two & their viability as final boss.

[boom-bakugou]

‘The Three Times’ — Keigo Takami (Hawks)

A/N: had this one on my mind for a while, hope it made you as sad as it made me

Pairings: Hawks x GN!Reader

Warnings: angst, slight smutty themes, mentions of blood, slight stalker Hawks

Summary: There were 3 times each when you and Hawks really thought of each other after your breakup.

Word Count: 3.4k

masterlist requests are open <3

The first time Hawks thought of you was 6 months after your relationship ended. His fingers brushed tightly through some random person’s hair as their kiss became ragged. Spurred on by alcohol and their combined sex drive. But as they stumbled up to his apartment, lips locked together as if the alcohol called for it. Something just- didn’t feel right. He couldn’t understand if it was the multiple drinks that they had but he couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

Yet as he lay over them on his bed, readying himself to take off their clothes. Hawks stopped himself. His eyes glazing over the person beneath his body.

“I’m really sorry I can’t do this uh-“ Hawks’ usual cocky demeanour dissipated. “I think I’m too drunk.”

But his mind was completely sober. His near fuck-buddy annoyed at the disappointment gathered their scattered items and made their way out of the apartment complex with pity money for a cab from Hawks as an apology.

Plagued by his own mind, he couldn’t think of why he couldn’t follow through with it, stripping himself to go to bed as if stripping back layers of himself to figure out his troubles. Before he pinpointed it. The person beneath him wasn’t you. Laying on his king size bed he couldn’t help but still catch the smell of you on the other side, not daring to touch it since you had both ended things.

Why couldn’t he bring himself to sleep there? Even if he awoke in the middle of the night and was the slightest bit too far over on the other side he’d always move. Why couldn’t he bring himself to sleep with someone else in your bed? No, it was his bed; no one else lived with him. Why did he still reach out only to be met with cold covers?

It wasn’t that serious. He told himself. Yes you two had fun, were intimate, became each other’s best friend but it was better to be apart. Hawks knew he was holding you back and the pressure of keeping a partner and being a pro-hero at a tumultuous time wasn’t a good plan.

He hadn’t even realised the shirt that he’d put on to wear to bed that night was one of your favourites on him. Always saying it was the comfiest to lie on. You promised that’d be the one shirt you’d never steal because you preferred it on him. Hawks couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought, out loud, in his empty bedroom, looking at how your side of the bed still had traces of the way that you slept.

-

The first time you thought of him was 8 months after your relationship ended. At your agency, you watched him on the tv in your office as he was part of an interview. You didn’t even notice it was him at first, flicking through paperwork. You didn’t notice the interviewers announce his name or the cadence of his voice. It wasn’t until you heard your own name that your eyes were soon glued to the flat screen.

“So how do you feel about Y/N and their new agency? It must be nice to see your ex-sidekick flourish and make their way up and up the hero charts!” The host didn’t mean any malice from it, but you could see the shock and hurt in his eyes hidden behind his signature smile.

No one knew, no one even at his old agency knew about the two of you secretly dating. But the two of you knew about how work and relationships didn’t particularly coincide. Hawks chuckled, before he began his sentence. The inner cogs turning within him plastered on his face, his charming features that you knew so well.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m happy for the kid. Wish we kept in contact more often though.”

He did not want to talk about it. It had hurt you both for it to end it, but you were holding each other back right? You didn’t want to be a side-kick forever, and heroes dating got messy. Tabloids plastered with paparazzi photos. You didn’t want your image ruined before you’d even begun.

“You don’t keep in contact that often? But you two were so close!” The host’s voice was cheerful, trying to keep the smooth pace of the interview going as it had moments prior. Hawks was made for TV, loved by many. Seeing this talk-show was stuttering, you’d never seen him so quietly distraught on camera.

“Just hero work I guess. Keeps everyone busy!” He retorts playfully which makes the crowd laugh, and you yourself can’t help but crack a smile. He could work the camera like magic, but you couldn’t help but see the cut where his face turned into a solemn frown. He was so civil about the breakup. He couldn’t miss you now of all times right?

The TV had cut to an ad-break and you busy yourself with paperwork again. You didn’t really want to think about him, the caress of his fingers, the way his morning voice said your name in his own cadence, the breakfasts he’d make for you the times you’d stayed at his apartment.

No. No more Keigo. So you plunged yourself back into your paperwork and lost all thought of your ex-lover.

-

The second time Hawks thought of you was a year after your relationship ended. Days off never came to him easily, but craving a sense of normalcy at least for one day was allowed. Stopping by his favourite coffee shop was the easiest way to feel normal for him, order the same drink, sit in the same window seat and people watch. Except today, someone was in his seat.

Taking a chair a few spaces down from the girl at the window table, it took him a few moments to recognise her before placing two and two together.

“Hey you’re uh- Y/N’s sidekick right?” Hawks asks, the girl turns her head to him before looking at him in shock, almost spitting out her drink and spilling the other cup that she had with her.

“Uh- y-yes uhm and you’re Hawks oh god hello-.” She stuttered, he reached his hand over to let her shake it which she happily obliged.

“So, how’s it working at big pro hero Y/N’s agency?” Hawks sipped at his coffee, preparing to hear about all he’s missed out on- well, avoided. Her demeanour almost reminded him of you when you just started, a big fan of his looking to do more and be better for the better of everyone around you. She took a sip of her own drink, trying to compose herself before she formulated an answer.

“It’s a dream come true! I’ve been a big fan of Y/N ever since they were at your agency.” She smiles. My agency, he thought. Seems like eons ago.

“I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of stories from them.” Hawks chuckles, before looking he noticed her rather solemn expression. Her eyes drifting down from his to look at the coffee lip over the opening of her disposable cup.

“Not really, they don't talk much about the old agency which is upsetting- I’d really like to know what it was like!” She was so enthusiastic, so bright. Just like you when you’d become his sidekick. He hoped that he hadn’t ruined that spark when you left the agency. Taking his eyes back to the second cup, his heart sank a little before directing his attention to your sidekick; trying his best to keep his savvy cool aura around him.

“Are you two out on patrol today?” He tried to ask as nonchalantly as possible, not to seem prying. He hadn’t heard anything about you really for little over a year, why didn't you two keep in contact? It wasn’t like you agreed never to speak to one another again.

“Yeah! But we have an hour before we start so they’re meeting me here and got me to grab them their favourite before we head off.” She gestured to the other cup that sat next to her own. “They’ll only be a few minutes, do you wanna stay and talk to them?”

The tone in her voice was that of an excitable fan girl although she did her best to tone it down. Hawks’ mind raced at the thought, seeing you now; not just as he flicked over TV channels and newspaper articles on his phone. Or even how his favourite coffee place that he used to take you to was now your favourite, and you hadn’t bumped into each other here once.

“I gotta get running, I have some errands to do.” Hawks picked up his cup and went to walk off before adding. “Tell the kid… I hope they’re doing good.”

And with that he was off, sitting atop the rooftop next to the cafe, awaiting you to walk inside. He only got a brief glimpse and you didn't notice his presence but, after a few moments he saw you return outside. Hiding behind the lip of the roof so you couldn’t see behind, Hawks saw you lift your head up. Your hand shielding your eyes as you looked to the sky for him. When you had no avail you headed back inside to enjoy the rest of your break.

They wanted to see me. He mused.

-

The second time you thought of him was a year and a half after your relationship ended. The deafening sounds of plates smashing as your then boyfriend threw them about. Anger poisoning your veins.

“It’s not my fault that I get called away for work!” You seethed. Trying your best to not follow suit with him, your feet kicking away shards. You see him lift another mug, using your arms to shield your face as it shatters to the ground. It was one of your favourites, but you never remembered why.

“God you act like you’re all high and mighty that you’re a hero and that you save lives every day.” His hands bled from fractures slicing back up into his skin, collateral damage. You looked at the man you once loved, his face contorted with jealous vexation.

“I am not high and mighty! I just believe in what I do! There’s a difference between the two, dipshit!” You couldn’t even work like a hero right now with him, not being able to help but only bite back. You tried your best to make your way in between the cupboard full of the rest of your dining-ware before he smashed anything else.

“HAH you’re so full of yourself, you’re like that dumb hero you used to work for… Hawks is it?” The name caught you by surprise, like ice being pressed to the back of your neck. It was as if a ghost had left his lips. “Just as fucking arrogant and cocky as that cocksucker on tv,”

“Get out.” You mutter, your eyes surveying the mess on the floor. The pieces of broken china looked like islands among a wooden sea, a beautiful nonsensical mess.

“What?”

“You heard what I said, now get out!” Your eyes shot back up to him, filled with absolute malice. The timbre of your voice elevated as your shoes stood on pieces of the plates, cracking beneath your heavy stomp.

He hurried his way out, not another word leaving his lips. The slam of the door didn’t even make you jump. You didn’t know what to feel. Shuffling debris from beneath you with your feet, you kneel on the hardwood floor of your kitchen. Digging away at what had been lost during the fight. Some were little things like plates you found at antique stores or ones that had a chip in it after you’d opened the cupboard door to quickly. Yet one stood out to you.

In a pool of shattered red pieces was where your favourite cup had been rendered to smithereens. Taking each piece, you tried your best to regain your memory of why it meant so much to you. Until it hit. The day you got the mug was the day that Hawks had first kissed you. After a tricky situation involving a villain and a ceramics shop. He and you had been on a few dates prior to the mission, and after all was said and done the owner of the shop gave it to Hawks who then bestowed it to you, before pressing his lips to yours.

Rummaging your way through the pieces trying best not to cut yourself, you find that the bottom of the cup had been split into two, reuniting the pieces you see the faint ‘Hawks x’ painted on the bottom. It had worn away with time but you still saw it. His distinct handwriting, it always looked different when he wore his gloves which must’ve been how he’d written it then. It was a shame you’d have to get rid of it now.

-

The third time Hawks thought of you was 4 years after your relationship ended. How could he have missed it. It was all every newspaper wrote about, all every television talk show chattered on to their audiences to, every social media post upon his dashboard.

You were getting married.

Hawks balled his fists in frustration, the leather of his gloves creating a shrill noise which only fuelled his sadness. But why was he upset in the first place? He hadn’t seen you properly in the flesh for at least 4 years now, not heard you breathlessly say his name as you clung to his sheets, not heard you hum songs in his shower as you got ready for the morning, not smelt your sweet aroma that made him feel like home.

He knew he shouldn’t be thinking like this, it was all some crazy possessive idealisation that his mind had come up with just because it could. But his throat couldn’t help but go sour as he thought of you in another person’s arms. No one had really made him feel like everything was right, not those half excuses for a relationship he’s had over the past few years, not the one night stands nor the dates his friends tried to set him up. Nothing was as perfect as you were.

You were everything, the moon and it’s pull, the stars and their shine. And what did he do? Throw it away because he was scared and he’d convinced you that it’d be better for you too. How could he be so stupid? How could he have everything in the palm of his hand and let it slip away. He had to see you, just once. Before he could never have you again.

Taking flight in the pitch black, Hawks did his best to research where you were living now. Not in that old cozy place you once had, you were a pro-hero now, able to buy yourself way better. Settling himself on a rooftop near the new and improved apartment complex you lived in, Hawks kept an eye for any movement before he saw you in your window.

You looked as beautiful as the day he met you, clad in only some shorts and a T-shirt, you sipped out of a mug. Watching the bustling city below you. When the hot substance steamed up the window you’d wipe it off, allowing yourself to have the perfect view of the streets. The way the city lights lit you up made his heart swell, everything about you was utterly perfect. He only wished that you were drinking out of that old mug that he had given you all those years ago.

Taking him out of his trance were two strong arms wrapping around you, frightening you momentarily. You looked shocked, nearly dropping the cup. Hawks stood on the ledge of the building, flaring his wings as he prepared himself to jump into action. Yet you turned around and giggled, placing your lips upon your soon to be husband. He recognised their face and blonde hair- another hero. But it’d been years since Hawks last cared about the hero listings. He couldn’t even tell the hero’s name.

His heart sank as you placed the mug down on the window sill, wrapping your arms around your fiancé and dancing around the living room together. Hawks could hear the soft music playing in the background, the man spinning you around. Watching as your hair danced through the twirl with you, he closed his eyes and tried to remember what it felt like to run his fingers through it. Waking up to it tickling his nose, pushing it out of your face behind your ear; he missed the little things.

Opening his eyes again, he was met with the curtains shut. The final goodbye. He stood himself up properly, not worrying about being spotted before taking out his phone and searching for local shops that open earliest in the morning.

-

The third time you thought of Hawks was 4 years after your relationship ended. Your engagement ring dazzled in the fluorescent lights of your office, you couldn’t help but stare at it. It had taken so many years to find the one but you finally had it, being successful in your career and your love life. Everything was falling exactly into place. Before you could admire your finger any longer there was a knock at your door.

“Hello Y/N? These were delivered for you.” Your secretary brings a tied gift bag and leaves it on your desk, quickly scurrying out as she always had a mountain of workload to do.

You looked at the decorative paper carefully. You knew it couldn’t be anything inconspicuous as all deliveries into hero agencies had to go through rigorous testing before even being allowed into the building. You assumed it was something you might’ve ordered a while back that had finally arrived so you delicately began to peel back the tissue paper.

Beneath was a bouquet of your favourite flowers in a quaint but beautiful small vase. Amongst the sea of flowers was a card held by a stick which you plucked out to read, expecting something from your soon-to-be spouse.

It’s always gonna be you kid. - Hawks x

You swear your heartbeat stopped, retaking your seat at your desk. You reread the simplistic words on the card over and over as if they’re gospel and you can’t help but feel the pang of tears in your eyes and in the back of your throat. Placing it upon your desk you shut your eyes, you hadn’t thought about your feelings for your old boss in years. It sounds so silly, but maybe he buried feelings too. But that was long gone. You had moved on, you were happy. You were settling. Settling.

Still, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and reached beneath a couple of old files to bring out an old memory. The bottom of an old mug glued back together so you could once again read the inscription of Hawks’ name.

[patt-writes-stuff]

Pink (Hawks x gn!Reader)

Pairing: Hawks/Takami Keigo x gn! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: cursing but that’s about it!

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, Romantic/Relationship

Tags/Aus: boss x secretary, pining, slow burn, slight cannon divergence probably

Summary: 5 times your boss, Hawks, made you flustered + the one time you made him flustered

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! This is my fic for the Attack on Academia server’s Secret Santa Event!! This is for @sugacookiies​ !! and I really hope you like it!!! 

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

“Thank you so much for coming today, we’ll be sure to get back to you soon,” the lady who had been interviewing you said, smiling at you. You bowed your head slightly, thanking her for her time with a small smile on your face.

After exiting the room and closing the door, you took a deep breath, as if to calm your still very present nerves. You had been up for a job as a secretary at pro hero Hawk’s agency, something you were more than thrilled about.  

Growing up, you’d always been immensely intrigued with the world of pro heroes. Your room had been decked out in hero figurines and posters, the whole nine yards. Hell, even your comforter was hero themed at a certain point in time. It had just always fascinated you how these people would use their quirks for the good of humanity and to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Sadly, your quirk, MoodLocks, wasn’t very useful in crime-fighting. All it did was allow your hair to change colors depending on your mood. It was pretty, of course, but you had a hard time controlling it and it could never help you beat an opponent. If anything, it would give the villain an insight into your thoughts and put you at a clear disadvantage.

So, as time passed, your childish fantasies of becoming a hero did as well. It didn’t bother you anymore, as you were more than happy with the career you’d chosen. Your love of heroes was still very much present, hence why you were so nervous about today’s interview. If you got the job, not only would the pay be incredible, but you’d also get the chance to help an actual hero. Maybe you’d even get the chance to meet more of them!

You were pretty sure you had made a fairly good impression so hopefully, you would indeed get a call from the agency soon.

Walking out of the agency, you couldn’t help but let out a yawn. You’d stayed up far too late last night googling commonly asked job interview questions so you wanted nothing more than to get back to your apartment and catch up on some much-needed rest. Maybe you and your roommate could order in.

“Oh God, I am so sorry that was my fault. I just finished this super stressful interview and I’m super tired so I was not watching where I was going-” your babbling came to a sudden halt as you looked up, brain losing all ability to form coherent thoughts.

Right before your very eyes was the man who’s “a bit too fast” in all his red-winged glory. You’d seen him in interviews online, of course, you kept up with most pro hero interviews, so you knew he was handsome. However, the cameras most certainly did not do the man justice. His yellow glasses were resting on his forehead, pushing his messy (and very soft looking) blond hair back. His gold eyes seemed to be looking right into your soul, calculating yet calm.

God, you wished you could make your eyeliner look remotely similar to his.

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you realized that you’d been staring for what you could only describe as an uncomfortably long amount of time.

Before you could embarrass yourself further, the winged hero placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. He looked at the top of your head, an intrigued expression adorning his face before morphing into an easy smile, he spoke, “‘S no problem, chickadee. Good luck with your interview.”

And just like that, the hero went along his merry way.

Curious what he’d been staring at, not to mention the nickname, you looked up at your hair, which had previously been a bright shade of orange due to being anxious, was now very pink. You blanched at the thought of having lost control of your quirk so easily, in front of a cute guy pro hero who might be your future boss no less.

‘Well,’ you thought, ‘at least I can say I met Japan’s #2 hero even if I don’t get this job.’

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 2

Much to your surprise, and pleasure, you had indeed received a call from Hawks’ agency about a week later. After several follow up interviews (much more than you were expecting, honestly, but you suppose it made since he’s such a high ranking hero) a very thorough background check, you had gotten the job.

When you had gotten the job, you had been hoping that the blond would have forgotten your first encounter, since you had literally malfunctioned right before his very eyes. The chances of him forgetting weren’t exactly small, after all. You were sure he met plenty of people every day and your interaction had been incredibly brief.

A month into your job as his secretary, you seemed to be in the clear. Sure, he knew about your quirk, since he was your employer and the ever-changing array of colors in your hair aren’t exactly subtle, but seeing as he hadn’t mentioned it so he’d probably forgotten.

You’d stayed at the agency long after your shift was overdue to a couple of low-ranking villains attempting to rob a bank. It had been an easy win for Hawks, he was in and out of there long before his sidekicks had even gotten there, but the villains had caused a lot of unnecessary damage to the building, so there was a ridiculous amount of paperwork.

You couldn’t wait to get home and change out of your stuffy work clothes and into the comfiest pair of PJs you owned. Your roommate, always a sweetheart, had been kind enough to save you some leftovers from her dinner so all you had to do was warm it up, eat, shower, and crash on your bed.

Whilst you were getting ready to head home, your boss had decided that it was only fair to walk you home, seeing as it was late. You had insisted that he didn’t need to do that, even showing him the can of pepper spray you carried around your person at all times. Still, he’d insisted, and who were you to say no?

The winged hero had originally offered to fly you home, but you’d profusely told him it wasn’t necessary. So, the two of you ended up taking the train. The two of you got a couple of weird stares from your fellow passengers, seeing as the flying hero was taking a train instead of y’know… flying and his wings took a significantly large part of the seat the two of you were occupying (it seemed uncomfortable but he didn’t mention it). Hawks seemed to either not notice or not care, opting instead to have an animated conversation with you about the best fried chicken places in Fukuoka. It was mostly him talking, but you’d add to the conversation every once in a while, and sometimes people would interrupt and ask for an autograph, which he’d sign with a carefree smile on his face.

“You don’t have to walk me home, sir,” you told him after the two of you had exited the station closest to your apartment.

“What kind of hero would I be if I let a civilian walk alone across the dark streets of Japan?” He asked you, tone light and teasing. “Also, didn’t I tell you to call me Hawks? Sir makes me feel old.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his words, turning to the left towards your apartment. You’d get there soon and a small part of you wanted to keep the banter going for as long as possible.

“I don’t think that would be very professional of me, sir,” you said playfully. He laughed and the two of you settled into a comfortable silence while you walked.

After a moment, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and he spoke up, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how exactly does your quirk work?”

“Oh well, y’know, it changes color depending on my mood, so red means I’m angry, blue can mean I’m sad or calm, pink means I’m flustered or embarrassed, purple means I’m scared, etc.”

“So your hair went pink the first time we met because you were starstruck by my devilishly good looks?” He asked in a faux haughty tone. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

The asshole remembered your first encounter.

Your hair turned pink and you celebrated inwardly as you approached your apartment. As you opened the glass door to the complex, Hawks laughed at your hurry.

“Good night,” you stated, tone indignant at his laughter, as you made your way inside.”

“‘Night, Pinky.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 3

Working for the red-winged hero himself was both everything you were expecting it to be and completely the opposite of it at the same time.

The hours were crazy, something you were anticipating considering villain activity had been increasing and your boss was a busy public figure. What you were certainly not anticipating, however, was that Hawks would be such a teasing little shit.

Not only had the man remembered your first encounter, but after you had explained your quirk to him (he’d asked you about it despite it being in the agency’s records since you had applied for the position, you guessed he’d done it as a way to break the ice) he’d taken it upon himself to fluster you to get your hair to go that embarrassingly bright shade of pink.

He’d call you all sorts of nicknames ranging from pinky to songbird (your favorite was by far Pinky since it feels so personal. Not that you’d ever tell him that). He’d also gotten into the habit of trying out all sorts of ridiculous pick up lines on you. The greater majority of them were bird-related, of course. Those never really got you but they did make you laugh.

The one that probably got you the most was when he’d bring you your favorite drink or lunch from a place you’d mentioned you’d like offhandedly, saying he had just been “flying by” and remembered your conversation.

You didn’t mind his flirtatious banter in the slightest. He never crossed any boundaries and kept things professional when it came to business. It was pretty fun to see what nicknames or pickup lines he had up his sleeves.

The only downside was that you’d begun to develop a slight crush on the red-winged hero. It would never lead to anything, you were well aware of that. He was not only a famous hero who was constantly under public scrutiny, but he was also your boss.

It can’t hurt to dream though.

“What’s got you so distracted?” An all too familiar broke your very him-centric train of thought. You looked up from the paperwork you’d been blankly staring at. You’d been trying to multitask between eating and doing paperwork so you wouldn’t have to take any work home. After much insistence from your roommate, who was well aware of your crush on Your boss (she’d teasingly gifted you a pair of Hawks themed PJs on your birthday), you had finally given in and agreed to let her set you up on a date with a former schoolmate of hers.

“Nothing, just thinking about a date I have tonight,” you lied, looking up from your desk to meet those lovely honey-colored eyes you spent more hours than you’d care to admit thinking about. You scanned his body language, trying to gauge his reaction. Not that you could ever get a read on him. More often than not, it was impossible to get a read on him under the visage of carefree indifference he was so well known for. In the almost half a year you’d known him you’d never once seen the hero lose his cool or show any emotion other than the ones he wanted to portray. It was kind of unfair seeing as he could get a picture-perfect look into your thoughts and emotions just by looking at the color of your hair and here you were, left grasping at straws.

He seemed to have no outward reaction other than his shoulders tensing and his eyebrows scrunching up a bit in mild distaste. It was gone so fast you were sure you must have just imagined it.

“Pinky’s got themselves a date?” he said after a moment, a slightly forced teasing tilt to his voice. He crossed his hands and placed them on the taller part of your desk and leaned his weight on them, staring down at you with a cheeky grin.

“I guess so,” you said, fiddling with your chopsticks as you continued, “I’m kind of nervous though. I haven’t got on any dates since I started working here, I’m a little rusty.”

“How come you haven’t gone on any dates?” he asked, staring at you with an intensity you weren’t quite expecting from him. “Had a special someone in mind?”

The roots of your hair went white in surprise before you managed to school them into going back to your natural hair color. It was brief but he had surely noticed.

“I’d go on lots of dates if my boss gave me more days off,” you said, pushing past the momentary lull in the conversation and giving him a pointed look.

He let out a laugh, a real and genuine one, unlike the ones he’d let out during interviews or out in public. The thought made your face heat up. It made you feel special. Even if he didn’t see you in the same way you saw him, he at least trusted you enough to be real around you. That was enough for you.

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about, kid, any person would be lucky to land a date with someone as beautiful as you,” He stated, looking at you with a certain emotion behind his gaze that you couldn’t quite decipher. “If your date happens to go south, just give me a call and I’ll pick you up. After all, what kind of hero would I be if I didn’t look out for my secretary?”

You looked at his retreating form, your hair as pink as bubble gum and heart threatening to beat out of your rib cage. He’d just called you beautiful. He’d also said that anyone would be lucky to date you. Did that include him? Did he like you?

“Hey Hawks,” you called out, surprising both him and yourself. Despite him telling you to just call him Hawks instead of ‘sir’, you’d stuck to calling him sir for the sake of professionality. “Thanks for the offer.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 4

You let out a tired sigh as you watched the number of floors go up on the tiny screen atop the doors of the elevator you were currently in.

When you had signed your contract to work at Hawks’ agency, you were aware that you would need to be accessible 24/7, however, you thought that if he did contact you at an ungodly hour, it’d be for something important, perhaps something along the lines of a press scandal or a massive villain attack that you’d need to start filing paperwork promptly so that the agency could report the casualties or cost of the destruction. You had highly doubted Hawks, Japan’s literal #2 hero would call his secretary at 3:00 a.m. in the goddamn morning and order them to bring him a bucket of fried chicken from fucking KFC.

You clearly hadn’t known the man at the time, you thought as you stared at the red and white bucket in your arms.

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you had arrived at your destination. Making your way through the hallway, you tried to figure out why your boss would be so cruel as to make you get him fast food when he had two perfectly capable wings that could take him to and from the nearest KFC faster than you ever could. You bet it’d even be warmer.

You’d need to download UberEats on his phone.

Before your fist could make contact with the door, it was swung open, surprising your half-asleep brain. Before your eyes there was a very awake looking Hawks, his eyes zeroed in on the bucket you were holding

“Hey there, chickadee,” he said in a teasing tone, resting his arm on the door frame in a very attractive manner. God, if you were just a bit more coherent and a little less sleep-deprived, your hair would be the most embarrassingly bright pink color imaginable.

Thankfully, you weren’t and you could hear your bed calling your name from across the city, so without bothering to answer, you shoved the bucket of chicken into his arms before turning around to speed your way back to your at this point cold bed.

Before you could get very far, however, Hawks had grabbed your wrist with your free hand.

“You’re not leaving already, are you?” He asked you, letting go of your wrist.

“It’s 3 in the goddamn morning, Hawks,” was your deadpan answer.

“C’mon, you wouldn’t let your poor boss eat all alone would you,” you could tell his tone was meant to be light and playful but it was lacking his usual flare.

Your concern for the overgrown pigeon won out, and with a defeated sigh, you walked into his apartment, Hawks trailing behind you, visibly pleased that you stayed.

Despite all your time working for Hawks, you’d never actually been inside of his apartment. You had come here several times before to drop off documents he needed to sign or a new schedule (because the Hero Commission apparently couldn’t send emails directly to him) but you had always left the things at his building's front desk.

Hawks’ apartment was… emptier than you had expected it to be. It was nice, the furniture was obviously high quality, not that it was surprising considering he was a high ranking hero, but it lacked a personal touch. It had no pictures or knick-knacks in sight. It felt more like a house instead of an actual home.

“So, how’d your date go?” Hawks inquired once the two of you settled in his living room, him on the couch and you in the armchair next to it. He picked up a piece of chicken, offering it to you. However, it was far too early to even think about consuming food, so you politely declined.

“It was fine. He was nice,” you answered.

To be honest the date had gone well. He’d been nice, a complete gentleman. He’d taken you to a nice restaurant, he was great in conversation, he’d even walked you home but at the end of the night, the two of you had agreed that there was just no chemistry between the two of you whatsoever. You had decided to just stay friends.

“There won’t be a second one, though,” you added after a beat of silence.

“Good,” your eyes widened at his words and suddenly you had an epiphany.

Hawks had been jealous. He was jealous because he liked you. That’s why he had asked you to come here.

Before you could voice your thoughts, he spoke again, a sly smirk on his face, “By the way, I love your pajamas. I wasn’t aware you were such a fan.”

Your hair turned pink, as it often did whenever Hawks was around when you looked down at your clothes. In your haste to get Hawks his food so you could go back to bed, you had forgone changing clothes. You hadn’t realized you were wearing the Hawks themed PJs your roommate had gotten you as a gag gift. They were mustard-colored with lots of cute red feathers and tiny Hawks chibi heads scattered around the fabric.

He would never let you live this down.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 5

Following the KFC event, the two of you hadn’t spoken about the situation further. At this point, you were well aware of his feelings for you, and you hadn’t exactly been subtle about liking him. The two of you just hadn’t spoken about it. You weren’t official but there was an unspoken rule that neither of you would go on dates with other people.

You were fine with it. Really, you were.

Except that you were definitely not okay with it and you were very much upset that he had just answered that he was single when the lady that had interviewed him had asked him if he was seeing anyone.

Rationally, you understood why he said no. You weren’t official and saying yes would just throw the media into a frenzy while they speculated who he was seeing. You remember how crazy everyone went a couple of months ago when pictures of Mirko and Hawks in their street clothes hanging out started circulating on Twitter. They were trending for weeks, and you had had to answer call after call, explaining that no, they are not dating and no, they don’t have time to go on the 8:00 a.m. news to answer questions about what it was like to date as pro heroes.

On the other hand, you were tired of dancing around each other. You were aware that dating a pro hero would come with hectic schedules and even some danger, but you didn’t care.

“So I was thinking you could come over and we can watch that hero documentary you told me to watch- hey are you mad at me?” Hawks asked, brows furrowed as in confusion.

“No, I’m not angry at you,” you answered, putting your stuff away and heading to the agency’s doors. You were more than ready to go back to your apartment and there was a pint of your favorite ice cream waiting for you in the freezer with your name on it.

“You totally are,” he scoffed, following after you.

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.”

“Yes, you are.” Your overgrown pigeon of a boss insisted, mimicking your tone, “If you’re not angry then why is your hair red?”

With a sigh, you spoke, failing to hide the snarky tone to your voice “So what if I am angry? Why do you care? It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” You walked out onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, that’s what you're upset about?” He asked, realization dawning upon his features. When you didn’t answer he kept talking, “You of all people know why I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. It’s just- nothing, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You told him, looking away with a defeated sigh.

You were about to walk away before he stopped you by placing his glove cladded hand  

“At least let me take you home,” it wasn’t much of a question, but you nodded anyways.

All of a sudden, you let out a shrill scream when he picked you up bridal style, hands instinctively clasping on to his coat to assure you wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he explained as if it were obvious. Before you had a chance to argue he set off into the sky.

You couldn’t hear anything but the wind in your ears and his heartbeat, but you finally understood why he loved flying so much. Exhilarating was the only word you could use to describe it. And cold. It was also really cold. You understood why he walked around with such a heavy coat now. You snuggled more into him, trying to get some more warmth, which caused Hawks to tighten his hold on you. The affectionate gesture alone had your hair going a shade of pink.

You got to your apartment building much faster than you ever would by taking the train, something that you regretted a bit since it meant he’d let go of you.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, “maybe we should-“

“Keigo,” he said, effectively cutting you off,

“W-what?” You spluttered, caught off guard.

“I want you to call me Keigo,” he said with a sense of finality, looking into your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t quite read, or at least one that you were just choosing to ignore. It’d just make what you were about to suggest harder.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, opening the door that led to the stairs, “I really like you, hell, maybe even more than that, and I want to be with you but I don’t want to be whatever we are right now forever.”

Ignoring the way his wings physically dropped at your words, you closed the door behind you and headed to your apartment.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

Once you got home, you immediately stripped out of your work clothes and into your Hawks-themed pajamas (because they're the comfiest, not because they remind you of him, obviously) and you’d taken out your ice cream and went to town on it. Your roommate had noticed the dark blue that had taken over your hair but you’d brushed her off, saying it was nothing to worry about. She’d been doubtful, but she had a night shift so she left, but not before making you promise to call her if you needed to.

You’d spent the rest of the evening eating your ice cream and watching tv before deciding to get some sleep so you would feel at least a little less sorry for yourself tomorrow.

You were currently in your room, scrolling through your phone on your bed before calling it a day when you started to hear a tapping sound. You’d ruled it out to be some tree branch knocking against your window due to the wind. However, the longer you ignored it the more incessant it became.

You nearly fell out of your bed when you realized it was Hawks, your boss, the #2 pro hero of Japan, tapping on your window while squatting on your fire escape.

You got up, heading towards your window and unlocking it before pushing it up.  You helped him in before sitting down on the bed and motioning for him to do the same. An awkward silence filled the air, neither of you was quite sure of what you should say.

“Hawks, what are-“ you started before being cut off by him.

“Look, Pinky, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me,” he declared. Your hair went the brightest shade of pink it had ever been at his words.

He played with the embroidered design of the throw blanket you kept in your bed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the red-winged hero so vulnerable in all your time knowing him.

“But there’s a lot of crap that comes with my job and I could never forgive myself if I brought you into it and you got hurt. So-“ before he could finish speaking, you grabbed onto his coat’s collar with both of your hands and crashed your lips against his.

You’d waited almost an entire year for this. One thing was for certain, it was well worth the wait. You loved every single thing about him. And he loved you. That was all you needed.

After a beat, you pulled away, choosing instead to cup his cheek in an adoring manner. The two of you looked at each other with nothing short of pure unadulterated adoration.

“I love you Keigo,” you spoke his name for the first time, “as long as you’re by my side I don’t care about what happens.”

His reaction was, for lack of a better word, cute. His honey eyes were wide in shock, his face as red as his wings, and his aforementioned wings were puffed up in shock. Now you understood why he loved teasing you so much.

“So, do you wanna watch the documentary?” You asked him, walking out of your room and into the living room with a victorious smirk.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

[uwuwriting]

Breaking in pt.2 w/ Aizawa, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: Hi!! SoooOO I recently found your stuff and it's safe to say I am ✨obsessed✨ I LOVED the post you did of the BNHA reacting to someone breaking in with Hawks, Dabi and Todoroki. I was wondering if you could do another one with like Shinsou, Bakugou and Aizawa. I feel like Baku would throw mad HANDS. love your work stay stuff and have a good day x - anonymous

Okay I too love rescue fics and being kidnapped or held hostage is one of my favorite tropes. Throwing your kids in the mix is immaculat at least for me because I’m a die hard fan of domestic AUs. So of course I’m gonna write this trope again with these three idiots. I enjoyed writing the previous one so hehheehehehhe. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: some descriptions of violence, some crying but fluff/comfort in the end. 

Aizawa Shota II a son (Kaito)

-He was running late. 

-He hated running late.

-Today the class had extra training hours and it lasted longer than he expected, so much so that he had to call for someone to fill in his spot on patrol tonight. 

-In reality he really wanted to spend the night at home with you and your 2 year old son, canceling his patrol because the kids didn’t finish training was just an excuse. 

-He had shot you a text informing you that he would be home tonight but a little later than usual. 

-You had just picked up Kaito from his aunt when you got Aizawa’s message. 

-You were excited to spend some time with your husband. 

-Between your time teaching and his midnight patrols, the only moments you truly got to spend with him were in between the classes or when he came home for dinner and then immediately left. 

-You knew he felt bad leaving the two of you alone for so long and you knew he beat himself up for missing precious time with his son. 

-Opening your apartment door you were met with complete silence which was odd. 

-Usually your three cats, Mochi, Mocha and Coco would meet you at the door, mewing and purring at your feet, Kaito always wanting to be put down so he could pet them. 

-Now though none of them came and you immediately knew something was up. 

-Your spidey senses were tingling. 

-Setting your stuff down you held Kaito closer to you as you slowly walked around your living room and kitchen. 

-Nothing seemed amiss.

-Kaito let out a small whimper and shifted in your grip as something moved behind you.

-Just because you retired from being a hero doesn’t mean your skills have disappeared. 

-Oh no, as a new mom you were hyper aware of your surroundings and you easily dodged the blow that was aimed at your head. 

-Whipping around you came face to face with a hooded figure that seemed more like a burglar than a villain. 

-The dude's eyes quickly landed on Kaito and he let out a shaky breath. 

-They definitely weren’t villains.

-People were aware of Aizawa’s family and any villain who tried to get to him through you would have known about Kaito’s existence. 

- “Shit…. Yo she has a kid!” 

-Another one came pounding from the hallway, eyes quickly landing on the baby you had clutched to your chest. 

-Letting out an exasperated sigh the second intruder rolled his eyes, grabbing an umbrella from the hanger and slowly making his way towards you. 

-  “Just knock her out and tie her up, put the kid in a crib or something.” 

-You weren’t about to let them touch your son, they wouldn’t even be able to come remotely near him. 

-Activating your quirk, thrumming filled the air as you were prepared to fight them, to keep them away from the crying child in your arms and that’s when you saw him. 

-He is always so silent, his footsteps so gentle on the marble floor of your apartment that you have convinced yourself that he is indeed half cat at this point. 

-Aizawa was burning holes at the back of their heads, hair up as he activated his quirk, cancelling theirs. 

-You kissed Kaito as Shota let his capture tool fly across the room successfully trapping the two burglars. 

-In six strides you were next to him, checking for injuries on each other while simultaneously trying *and failing mostly* to calm your 2 year old down. 

-The police were called, naming this whole incident as a random burglary and not a scheduled attack, relieving both of you; you didn’t wanna move again. 

-That night Kaito slept in your room, cuddled on Aizawa’s chest as you were nestled under his arm. 

-Three fur balls were curled at the foot of your shared bed, purring away lulling you to sleep. 

-You found those three locked in your bathroom.

-Apparently Mocha had scratched the living hell out of one of the burglars and they had locked all of them in the bathroom for safe measure.

- “I’m sorry for this.”

- “Burglaries happen Shota, it wasn’t your fault. I’m glad you came when you did, fighting while holding Kaito would have been kinda difficult. I think I might be getting kinda rusty.”

-He stroked Kaito’s plush cheek before letting out a sigh. 

- “I have never seen him cry like that. When he sees me he always calms down but now-”

- “He was scared, Shota. He saw them before I did and the whole situation shook him up. But he’ll be fine, he’s got us.” 

-Giving you a kiss and then placing another one on his son’s forehead, he closed his eyes, arms tightening around the both of you a little. 

Shinsou Hitoshi II a daughter (Kei)

-Hitoshi had been to every single pharmacy in the area searching for Kei’s medication. 

-She had gotten sick and you had asked him to fetch some antibiotics your pediatrician had suggested you give her if her fever didn’t go down.

-Now, Hitoshi was getting desperate. 

-It was the flu season and almost all the pharmacies had emptied their shelves from this particular antibiotic. 

-He was ready to pull his hair out. 

-Apart from that, he also hated leaving you alone like this. 

-You both needed him at the moment and he wasn’t helping at all. 

-Kei was suffering from her fever while you were about 7 weeks pregnant and he was out here running around like a maniac. 

-In one last desperate attempt he entered another pharmacy and to his surprise they had what he was looking for and he was out the door in a flash, leaving the store without giving the clerk enough time to say a single ‘thank you, come again.’ 

-Sprinting home, he dashed into your apartment complex and up the stairs, fumbling for his keys as he neared your door only to find it already ajar. 

-Slowing down he looked at the open entryway; he was sure he closed it on the way out. 

-Why hadn’t you closed it? 

-Pushing it open he came face to face with a disheveled living room, Kei’s toys scattered everywhere while one of your armchairs was knocked over. 

-A small whimper suddenly pierced the air and Hitoshi would recognize his daughter’s cries from anywhere. 

-A deep voice told her to shut up which was answered by your angry voice threatening to beat the living shit out of them if they touched her. 

-With silent steps, Hitoshi tiptoed to your daughter’s room where he could hear the talking only to stop dead in his tracks when shuffling came from your bedroom. 

-Another figure emerged from your bedroom halting once they saw Shinsou. 

- “What th-”

- “Sleep.” 

-Without bothering to check if the intruder passed out, Hitoshi pushed open the door, his anger radiating all around him at the very thought that someone had touched his family. 

-The second person whipped around at the sound of the door opening, eyes wide as they met Hitoshi’s, fumbling to activate their quirk. 

-They made the fatal mistake of speaking though and soon they were unconscious just like their friend, laying on the pastel carpet of Kei’s room. 

-In one swift motion he had Kei in his arms and untied your wrists, rubbing the irritated skin and checking for injuries. 

-Kei wouldn’t calm down, her grip on his shirt turned to iron once the police dragged them out of your house. 

- “I wish I could beat their ass.” 

- “You know you can’t use your quirk right now kitten.” 

- “Yeah but they pissed me off.” 

-Your doctor had forbidden quirk use during the pregnancy and that’s why those two morons had managed to catch you. 

-The scowl on your face had become almost permanent and Shinsou couldn’t decide if he should find it cute or terrifying.

-Kei became attached to Hitoshi’s chest.  

-Hitoshi refused to let her go just like she refused to let him go, staying in his embrace for the rest of the day, any attempt to get her away from him resulting in tears. 

-You are kinda salty but some ice cream will fix that. 

Bakugou Katsuki II A son (Tatsuo)

- “Okay kids, you have a nice weekend and don’t forget to finish your family portraits for Monday. Tatsuo and I would love to see them.” 

-A multitude of goodbyes came through the screen as your kindergarten class, some of your students even opened their cameras to wave at you and your son who was sitting on your lap. 

-Tatsuo babbled back at them, little byes leaving his lips as he too waved back at your laptop. 

-Being in quarantine wasn’t that bad for a kindergarten teacher. 

-Your online classes weren’t difficult to manage and you got to spend more time with your two year old son. 

-The class loved seeing him and would ask if he was joining them each morning. 

-Closing your laptop, you hugged your mini Katsuki as you started heating up his milk. 

-You were humming, gently rocking him as you waited for the milk, giving him stray kisses here and there just to see his little nose scrunch up reminding you of Katsuki more and more everyday. 

-Checking your phone for any new messages, you let out a sigh at your husband’s message saying he was coming home; that was thirty minutes ago. 

-Hero work didn’t let up despite the quarantine. 

-Bakugou was as busy as ever, leaving first thing in the morning and most of the time returning home late in the afternoon sometimes staying out even after midnight. 

-Today though he had managed to get off earlier than usual, promising to cook for both of you tonight. 

-You knew he wanted to spend more time with Tatsuo and the fact that he was gone for the majority of the day was eating him up. 

-He was so worried that he was neglecting his son; he even convinced himself that Tatsuo would soon come to hate him. 

-Your son on the other hand was attached to Katsuki’s hip, always searching for his dad in the morning and beaming when Katsu came home. 

-He could never hate him. 

-The sound of the door opening snapped you out of your little Katsuki infused dream state. 

-Turning around you expected to see your husband in the living room, arms stretched out as he smiled at the two of you. 

-But you were met with three strangers; three hooded strangers holding a crowbar and two bags. 

-It was a staring contest for a solid five minutes before either of you moved. 

-One of them noticed Tatsuo and nudged his “coworker” who then informed the leader of the trio. 

- “Better not make a sound sweetheart, I’d hate hurting that pretty little face of yours.” 

-He took a step forward only for you to take a step back, until your back hit the cupboard. 

-He let out a chuckle and motioned for his rookies to search the place as he continued walking towards you. 

-Tastuo was gripping your shirt, eyes trained on the man, his brows downcast in anger. 

-Your phone lit up on the counter and in one swift move you grabbed it, pressing your emergency call button as the intruder rounded the counter. 

-You sprinted for the front door just as Katsuki picked up only to be grabbed by one of the other two and dragged back inside the house, Katsuki’s yells echoing through the phone. 

-Now you are aware that your husband is one of the top pro heroes. 

-You know that in order to rise to the top charts in this industry you need to have certain attributes like strength, tactical thinking ….speed. 

-You felt him more than saw him. 

-You were wrestling to get the hands of the intruder off of you when you felt the windows rattle. 

-And before you knew it, your husband had tackled the man holding you to the floor, knocking him unconscious with a single punch before pouncing on the other two. 

-Tatsuo was letting out small hiccups as tears rolled down his cheeks, his grip on your shirt never wavering but he refused to sob. 

-He had his father’s pride okay? Even at the age of two. 

-Katsuki had you both in his arms in a flash, calling the police before checking both of you over for injuries and what not. 

- “Did they hurt you? I swear I’ll kill them if they did.” 

-  “We are fine Katsu, just a little shaken.” 

-The moment Tatsuo was in Katsuki’s arms he began to cry, burying his face in his dad’s chest still holding on to your shirt. 

-It took an eternity to calm him down and even longer to put him to sleep, even though he was sleeping in your bed. 

-The next morning Katsuki was on the news for marching to the police station and beating the living hell out of the burglars. 

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @ezoyscorner​ @letscheereachotheron​ @wolfkid22​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​ @threeamwriting​ @ysatrap​ @yashinosakura @belladonna-coven @angel6786​  @meena-in-a-nutshell​

[mrs-theirin]

i am super inconsistent with this!! enjoy!! akdlsghbfnskl (an * means it’s a wip!)

Not The Fall That Kills You | Masu_Trout - Fallout 4 & FemSoleSurvivor/Deacon

Deacon's afraid of falling. Not in a metaphorical way or anything, he just really doesn't like heights.

(Luckily, he has someone there to help him.) (2,926 words)

lmao if you didn’t know my type before you do now!!! this fic is DELIGHTFUL. it’s got deacon’s character spot on, the prose is beautiful, the simplicity in the writing? ugh, wonderful. if you love deacon, you’ll love this fic! and even if you don’t love deacon (or even know who he is) i recommend reading this. nothing like two idiots who don’t know the other wants to be with them!!! really good stuff

Hit The Road, Jask | KushielsMercy - The Witcher (Netflix) & Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier

“Really, the audacity of that man. You save someone’s life, invite them along on an epic adventure -- well, maybe not in so many words but my welcome was certainly implied -- and then just...leave them! Toss a coin to your Witcher indeed, clearly the first order of business is to toss some manners right through his thick skull just as soon as I find him,” Jaskier mutters to himself, his boots long abandoned and clenched tightly in his grip.

Or, a direct continuation of Geralt and Jaskier's meeting in Posada, because someone has to develop their relationship and it sure won't be Netflix. (2,057 words)

guess who started watching the witcher!! literally cannot recommend this enough, it is SO good. characterization? spot on. give it a read i dare you

*Well...Shit. | TheIcyQueen / @queenofbaws - Dragon Age & FemHawke/Varric Tethras

What are best friends FOR, if not pretending to date you so your mother will get off your back? Luckily for Hawke, she and Varric are pretty good at pretending to be in lo...oh.

Oh no. (8,565 words)

literally what are you even doing following me if you’re not also reading queenie’s work like. idk how many times a girl has to shout “THIS SHIT IS AMAZING” before you go read the amazing shit???? you like fake relationships? you like pining? do yourself a favor and click the link AND READ THIS FIC BECAUSE WHOOOOOO BOY. read it now this is a threat

Sun Blue | 1ichens - Dragon Age & FemHawke/Anders

Anders glows in the sunlight, Hawke adores him. In the green Ferelden summer, they find a moment of peace. (672 words)

simple, short, and sweet. absolutely delightful read. if you want to read something that feels like being wrapped up in a gentle blanket with a cup of hot chocolate, then read this. the prose......the beauty.....the LOVE. go read it right now you will not regret it

*feel the time pass by (but don’t look around) | icebats - Loki (Marvel) & Loki/Mobius M. Mobius

All Mobius has ever known is Loki. (6,307 words)

okay YES MAYBE I AM A LITTLE OBSESSED WITH THE LOKI SHOW. SUE ME. honestly i was not sold on lokius at first but it definitely grew on me and this fic DEFINITELY helped. written like the author’s a writer on the show, it is beautiful, it is complex, it is loving and harmful and all the good things you’d want in a fic. absolutely wonderful read. if you believe in love, then read this fic. if you DON’T believe in love, read this fic!! it’ll make you :)

*The Tale(s) of the Champion | TheIcyQueen / @queenofbaws - Dragon Age & General

When Hawke arrives at Skyhold, the Inquisitor very quickly comes to suspect maybe, just MAYBE, Varric’s been lying about much more than simply not knowing where she’s been all along. Like…everything. Literally every. Single. Thing. Which is fine, really – storytellers are known for bending the truth after all – but the more people she talks to, the stranger the picture becomes, leaving her to wonder…why?

Why has he been lying about Hawke this whole time? Why was Hawke so quick to come to Skyhold after hiding herself away for so long? And more to the point, after the tragedy that befell Haven, why are the two of them acting so suspiciously cheerful?

Though she can’t be sure yet where Hawke the character ends and Hawke the person begins, the Inquisitor is perfectly aware of one thing: They’ve just accepted a dangerous stranger into their midst, and as their de facto leader, it’s up to her to try and figure out Hawke’s motivation for suddenly deciding to lend a hand. …and to listen in on as much gossip as possible, obviously. (2,378 words)

hello i am back at it again with another queenie rec like honestly what more do you want from me. go read her stuff i PROMISE you won’t regret it. this fic is already off to SUCH a great start, queenie is so good at characterization and flow and EVERYTHING, REALLY. seriously i’m serious why aren’t you following her already. why aren’t you reading her stuff. why are you here if you can’t appreciate ART at its FINEST!! GO CHECK OUT HER STUFF RIGHT NOW!!!

[luzswonderland]

Thoughts on Season 2 Thus Far..

I gonna keep most of my thoughts on all the episodes brief, but also long enough where you guys can get the idea of where these episodes stand in levels of importance to me. I already have a lot personal favorites in this first half of the season and hope that the second half will deliver the same energy.

EPISODE 1:  Separate Tides

Good episode to start off the second season

Episode does a good job of addressing the different circumstances that Eda, Lilith, and Luz have with adjusting to life after the events of “Young Blood, Old Souls.”

We see the Golden Guard for the first time. With a voice too. I have more to say about him later when I get to the future episodes. But he is a treat!

The reintroduction of the portal and Emperor Belos’ plans for the human world in this episode, does a good job of reminding the audience of what is as stake this season.

Adore Luz and Eda’s pirate outfits ❤ 

Overall, a strong start to a very ambitious season.

Episode 2: Escaping Expulsion (Personal Favorite)

We finally see Amity’s parents!!!

Wasn’t expecting Odalia’s eyes to be blue, but both parents fit the personalities I originally envisioned them to have

Luz teaching Eda and Lilith to use magic through the glyphs was so cute and shows how different both Eda and Lilith are when it comes to approaching magic

Love how Amity’s separation from Luz was the trigger that caused her to stand up to her parents

Even though I kinda knew the expulsion from Hexside wasn’t going to permanent, it still shows how much pull Amity’s parents have at Hexside and the Boiling Isles. 

Looks like the abominations that Alador has made for profit will be used to fulfill whatever plans Emperor Belos has for the human world. 

Loved Amity and Luz’s interactions!!!

Episode 3: Echoes of the Past (Personal Favorite)

Fantastic King centered episode

I know that invisibility spell will come in handy in one of the later episodes. Good job, Luz

Hooty and Lilith are a riot this episode. Was not expecting them to get along at all this season.

I thought the show was going to make them polar opposites, but good to see that Hooty has a fan in the house.

King trying to remember his past and recounting his childhood memories was so sad because you realize that he has been trying to find out who he really is this entire time😭

The temple where King was born holds so much history and I hope we go back there soon

Will we find out what happened to King’s dad? What potential does King hold? Find out next time on DBZ!!!

Episode 4: Keeping Up A-fear-ances

Finally get to see Eda and Lilith’s mom and her palisman’s a hawk.

Love the pattern of all members of the Clawthorne family having bird themed palismen. I wonder what palisman Eda’s dad has.

Love how the episode addresses the blatant issue that Gwendolyn has with trying to find a cure for Eda. She cares for her daughter, but she is being blinded by ambition

The scams in the book she was reading were kinda funny tho

Lilith being upset that her mom favors Edal more than her is relatable, but also makes sense considering how the curse impacted Eda’s childhood

Lilith wanting to travel with her mom makes sense and I’m happy she made the decision to do that

Lilith’s beast from is cool

We finally get more information about there being another human that came to the Boiling Isles long ago!!!

We finally catch up with what’s going on at home and see that Luz’s imposter is blending in just fine and Camila is none the wiser. At least that buys Luz some time in the Boiling Isles

Episode 5: Through the Looking Glass Ruins

We get a Gus-centered episode and I’m here for it. I love it when the show deviates from the main narrative and focuses on the supporting cast

Even though I’m not the biggest fans of their personalities, the introduction of the students from Glandus High was great

I really love the character designs of these students, especially Bria, she looks so cute

Gus getting more character development and bonding with Mattholomule was good to see, I hope we see more of their interactions in future episodes

SO MANY LUMITY MOMENTS!!!

Luz getting more attracted to Amity

Amity putting her job on the line, so they could find Philip’s diary

Luz saying that she hopes to show Amity the human world one day

Luz successfully getting Amity’s job back

The kiss on cheek at the end of the episode by Amity

The blushing!!!💜💚-I can go on and on

Amity’s new look fits her well and shows that she is starting to live for herself and not her parents-Good!

Through the help of the Echo Mouse, we also get more information about why Philip came to the Boiling Isle in the first place.

But the Echo Mouse is being picky and stops before it gets good😫

Episode 6: Hunting Palisman (Personal Favorite)

This is my favorite episode of the season so far and probably my top ten favorite episodes of the series.

We are finally introduced to Hunter as the Golden Guard and he is a treat

Everything from his character design, to his goals, to his interactions with Luz make him very intriguing.

The kids begin to pick out their palisman and a lot of them fit their personalities, especially Willow’s.

I’m glad the show is addressing the fact that Luz doesn’t know what she wants to do when she becomes a witch because tbh I’m not sure either. I know she wants to help and protect the people of the Boiling Isles but she can’t really do that if she wants to go back home.

What a good time to bring up this internal conflict

Kikimora wanting to get rid of Hunter makes sense seeing as how the Emperor’s Coven is based of performance

LIST OF FAVORITE HUNTER AND LUZ MOMENTS:

Hunter and Luz’s interaction on Hunter’s ship

Luz slapping Hunter to wake him up😂

Luz stealing Hunter’s staff

Hunter revealing his family history and why he defers to Emperor Belos

These two give off a good sibling vibe and I want to see more of this later

I originally thought the red cardinal was going to be for Luz, but it ends up being Hunter’s palisman at the end of the episode-Interesting

Whatever Luz’s palisman is going to be, I hope it’s an animal that fits her personality because I thought the red cardinal would have been perfect

Maybe she will get a violet-backed starling as a palisman🤔

Hunter comes off as very complex immediately and I love that the show let’s us know that he trying to figure out his place in the Boiling Isles as a powerless being.

Episode 7: Eda’s Requiem

An Eda centered episode is such a plus for this season

So far I feel like the show has had Eda be a main plot point, but she hasn’t really been given her own episode-This episode takes a good step in the right direction

Eda feeling like she’s losing both Luz and King because they have both trying to find out more about their personal journeys is equivalent to a mother accepting that fact that her kids are moving across the country 😥

Eda reuniting with Raine is nice to see. You can automatically tell right off the bat that they have history

Raine being a rebel against Emperor Belos while working under Emperor Belos as a coven leader is BOLD AF

I see why Eda fell for them

We are introduced to the Abomination and Beast Keeping Coven leaders and I love their character designs, especially for Darius

The scene where Raine and Eda play together was so beautiful and does a fantastic job of representing how pure their relationship was and currently is 

I love how Raine realizing that Eda has more to live for than she thinks and puts a stop to the song they play in order to sacrifice himself

I know we are going to see Raine again, but I really hope Belos doesn’t do anything bad to them. Raine is a sweetheart

Even though Luz and King lose the Gland Plix race, it was still nice to see that Eda came towards the end of the face.

The reveal of King wanting to take Eda’s last name at the end of the episode is one of the main reasons why I love King and Eda’s relationship. They really do come off as mother and son❤

Episode 8: Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door (Personal Favorite)

This is a Hooty’s centered episode which is a first for this show, but this ended up being one of my favorite episodes of the show because of what it addresses

Hooty helping King accidently discover his powers was a shock to me because I just through their interaction was going to end up being pointless

King can now be more useful in battle 😁

We finally see Eda’s dad and see why Eda has a hard time accepting her cursed side.

We also learn how the curse has negatively impacted her relationship with so many people, such as Raine 😥

Eda accepting her cursed side is the first step to begin this traumatic healing process. At this point, I don’t think the show will cure Eda of her curse and I don’t think they should honestly. It teaches the audience that you sometimes have to live with what you have whether it be a disease, a physical disability or mental illness.

GOOD LESSON👌👌

Eda’s harpy form looks amazing. I can’t wait to see what the show will do with this form in the future.

Hooty helping Luz with her crush on Amity was one of the best parts of the episode.

The Tunnel of Love scene and the mixed signals from Luz and Amity had be dying🤣

Luz building up the courage to ask Amity out was so sweet and so real at the same time.

It came off as real conversation between awkward teens trying to figure a romantic relationship out🥰

LUMITY IS CANON!!!😍💜💚

This happened sooner than I thought, but I’m glad it did. This is huge, especially for a Disney show.

Just when I started to like Hooty a lot more, he had to mess it up when he ate a letter from someone who could be King’s dad (?)

DANG IT, HOOTY

Hooty freaking out when he thinks he messed with helping King, Eda and Luz never got old 😂

The comedy was on point with this episode and I love how everything just falls in to place.

Episode 9: Eclipse Lake(Personal Favorite)

This episode had so much going on and I have a lot to say.

We get back to the Emperor Belos plotline of him trying to get to the human world and find out the Belos has actually been to the human world previously🤔

I wonder what Belos wants to do with Hunter and how he relates to these “plans”

Hunter is totally going to get betrayed by his uncle 😥

Amity’s palisman is adorable, I guess she got it off-screen

“DragonClaw Z”😂😂😂

Love how everyone is coming together to protect the house, it shows they really know what’s at stake

Amity using every opportunity she gets to call Luz her girlfriend is so cute❤

Hard to believe she hated his girl’s guts at the beginning of last season lol

Sick Luz is funny Luz

More lore about the secrets of the Boiling Isles and Titan’s Blood

I really wish Luz could have came to Eclipse Lake with the rest of the cast, but I guess the rest of the cast needed to experience Hunter for themselves lol

Hunter being roasted by Eda, King and Amity was hilarious 😂

“A bad, but sad boy.”-Yep that’s our Hunter 🤣

Hunter trying to get into Amity’s head concerning her relationship with Luz and her role in the Boiling Isles was surprising

I’m going to assume that Amity hasn’t been in a romantic relationship before so everything with Luz is new to her. Amity is usually very level-headed.

Even though Harpy-Eda is cool, I like that Eda doesn’t know how to control his form yet, it shows that she has a lot to learn before this form this 100% mastered

Hunter’s desperation to get his uncle’s approval is just sad; I really want to know his backstory because this isn’t it at all

Praise King for helping Amity figure out the text messages🙌

I love how Amity tries to relate to Hunter, it sweet and shows how much she has grown. If only see did a better job of hiding the key 😣

The fight between Amity and Hunter is amazing. I love when the show just flexes its animation like this. 

It may not be better than Eda and Lilith’s fight, but I still felt the tension between these two characters. When these two grow up, they are going to be some of the most powerful witches in the Boiling Isles for sure.

Hunter getting to Amity’s head about harming Luz is a low blow imo, but I’m glad Amity knew what was at stake in the situation

Crushing the key was smart tho. Even in stressful situations like these, Amity still keeps her cool. We love to see it😉

Luz can now use some of the Titan’s Blood from Amity’s glove to try to return back home!!!

This episode had no business being this good. When the plot kicks in the show, it never fails to deliver.

Episode 10: Yesterday’s Lie (Personal Favorite)

We finally catch up with what’s going on back on Earth and find out more about Luz’s impersonator. 

The gang making a makeshift portal out all of Eda’s junk is very creative. I wondered what they were going to do with that stuff now that Eda can’t sell human collectables anymore.

The dimension that Luz enters through the portal is very trippy and creative. It makes sense since the portal they made is not authentic. 

Luz mirror hoping and seeing someone impersonate her had to be scary. I couldn’t imagine.

We find out that Luz’s impersonator is actually a creature from the Boiling Isles known as a “Basilisk”

Vee’s backstrory is awful, I completely understand why she came to Earth and got comfortable after what she went through

We find out that Eda interacted with humans with an alias known as “Marylin”😂

Even though Luz doesn’t find a way home, this is the next best thing to let her mom know that she is okay.

Jacob gave off weird vibes immediately, so when he captures Vee to use her for fame, I wasn’t surprised.

What did surprise me was the fact that Jacob has been watching Vee for a while and he had the house where she transformed in monitored

I wonder if he’s seen anything else🤔

Camila is the GOAT. She came through and helped Vee out. A lot of people would have just ignored the situation, but she knew that Vee was important to Luz and I respect that👏👏

I’m glad she also agrees to keep Vee despite the situation

The scene between Luz and Camila was very heart-wrenching. Luz came clean about everything and Camila’s reaction to that was expected but it was still sad to see

The music and Camila trying to reach out to Luz was just 😭

This episode is a great mid-season finale. This episode addressed so much and foreshadows a lot of plot points to come in the later episodes.

The first half of season 2 had some bangers. More than half of these episodes are already in my top favorites of the series and we still have 11 episodes left. Good Job Owl House. I can’t wait see what the other half has left in store 🙌🙌

[unbridgeabledistances]

Prompt: Sandy and Debbie break up and Ian and Mickey each take a side. During the fall out Ian worries that Mickey has the same complaints about Ian that drove Sandy to break up with Debbie. But in the end Mickey reassures Ian that their relationship is nothing like theirs.

hi!<3 thank u so much for this prompt, it was so fun to write! hope u enjoy:)

also this scenario could take place anytime between ep 2 and ep 3 of s11, because ian still has his warehouse job

**

“Jesus, Debbie, calm the fuck down. You’re being dramatic”

“Sandy, if you call me dramatic one more time, I swear to god. I’m not trying to be controlling I’m just asking you where you were last night, which is a perfectly reasonable question—”

“Reasonable if you were my mother, maybe, but I can go wherever the fuck I want without you needing to smother me all the time! I was on a run with Terry, because I have no money and don’t really know what to do with myself, and I’m never fucking good enough for you, and that’s literally all you need to know—”

“Trouble in paradise,” Mickey commented as he poured Ian some coffee, breaking the silence in the kitchen, where everyone was staring at their breakfasts and listening to the voices shouting upstairs.

Ian rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Debs isn’t known to be the most… secure partner in a relationship.”

“You can say that again,” added Liam, wrapping his poptart in a napkin and shoving it into his backpack. “I’m just gonna eat on the way to school. It doesn’t seem like this screaming is going to stop anytime soon, and while you and Mickey having sex twice a day is bad enough, Debbie and Sandy having a lover’s quarrel has somehow pushed me over the edge.”

Ian smirked and sipped his coffee. “Can you drop Franny off on the way?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Liam led Franny out of the kitchen, where Ian and Mickey remained, listening to Debbie’s shrill voice drifting through the floorboards.

“Fine, if I can’t know what’s going on in your life, I guess you don’t need to be in mine anymore!”

“Are you fucking serious, Debbie? Why do you need to know where I am, you can barely handle knowing the whereabouts of your own kid—”

Ian and Mickey traded raised eyebrows while Ian silently took a bite of toast.

“Sandy, get out of this house! I don’t need you and your illegal bullshit anyways, all you’re doing is putting me and Franny at risk with Terry and all of his issues—”

“Okay, little miss perfect, but don’t expect me to give a shit when you come crawling back.”

“Fine!”

The door upstairs finally slammed, and seconds later Sandy came stomping down. She looked at Ian.

“Your prissy fucking sister is a pain in my ass. The sooner your whole family realizes that your garbage father is as bad as Terry is, the sooner you’ll hop off of your superiority complex over the Milkoviches and realize that your way of surviving is literally the same as ours.”

Sandy shoved past the kitchen table and out the back door.

Ian breathed out a laugh. “Well, that was an eventful morning.”

“I’ll say,” Mickey agreed, looking at the door Sandy had just walked through. “Do you think I should go talk to her or some shit?”

Ian shrugged. “Nah, I’m sure it’s fine. I’m sure Sandy’ll grow up and apologize for whatever illegal shit she was doing with Terry, Debs will calm down, and everything will go back to the way it was.”

Mickey looked slightly uncomfortable as he placed his mug down on the table. “I mean, she has got a point. I’m sure whatever Sandy was up to was no big deal, Debbie doesn’t need to be freaking out.”

Ian scoffed. “Yeah, if getting involved in all of your dad’s shit is no big deal. Sandy could at least tell Debs whatever she’s up to, that sounds pretty fair to me.”

Mickey stood up, clearing their plates and walking over to the sink. “Whatever, Gallagher. I’m just saying Sandy does have a point about you being marshmallows. If she’s not telling Debbie what she’s up to, it’s probably for her own good.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Mick? Last time you disappeared on a run with your dad without telling me where you were, I literally thought you murdered our PO. How is that better than just telling me you’re hawking some stolen guns or whatever you get up to?”

Mickey distractedly wrung his hands with the dish towel, looking sightly pissed and defensive that Ian would even bring up that onslaught of memories, of their almost-wedding and Ian’s rejection at the courthouse and everything that followed.

“I don’t know, asshole. Maybe because Sandy’s right, and you all can be a little judgy about all the illegal shit. I get that you’re a goody two shoes breaking your fucking back in a warehouse, but that doesn’t mean that everyone needs to work their ass off to make minimum wage like you. I used to do shit for my dad all the time, so does Sandy and she doesn’t need anyone to be her keeper.”

Ian rolled his eyes, taking a final sip of coffee and standing up. “Alright, whatever. I’m gonna be late.” He pecked the top of Mickey’s head as he put his mug in the sink. “Enjoy your hard day’s work of watching TV and jacking off.”

Mickey turned and flipped him off as Ian strode out of the room.

Later that day, as Ian was mechanically checking expiration dates on an order of off-brand crackers, he couldn’t help but replay he and Mickey’s conversation from that morning over and over in his mind. Was Mickey seriously going to defend Sandy for sneaking with Terry behind Debbie’s back? He knew Mickey didn’t give a shit about making minimum wage right now, but was Mickey really going to spend the rest of his life following in his dad’s footsteps, depending on his next heist for cash? And, worst of all, did that mean he was going to live a life of feeling like he needed to hide every move from Ian? Ian knew what he was signing up for when they got married, that being with Mickey always meant some level of scamming and schmoozing; but for some reason, he thought that now that Mickey and his dad had fallen out that Mickey’s existence would stop being so constantly on the brink of incarceration.

He’d expected marriage to be a partnership—but so far, it felt like he and Mickey were on different pages about pretty much everything.

When Ian finally made it home and stumbled in the front door, tired and bleary, Sandy was still noticeably absent from the Gallagher house. Debbie and Franny were in the kitchen, along with Liam who was muddling through his homework at the table. Ian went upstairs and found Mickey laying on their bed, watching some sort of video on his phone at full volume. He didn’t look up when Ian came into the room.

“Hey, Mick. Can we talk for a sec?” Ian asked, taking off his hat and coat and gingerly placing them on the bottom corner of the bed.

Mickey still didn’t look up from his phone. “Don’t know what the fuck you want to talk about.”

Ian sat on the edge of the bed. “Did… Sandy and Debbie make up yet?”

Mickey huffed. “What d’you think.”

“Guess not. How’s Sandy doing?”

“Don’t know, haven’t heard from her yet. Figure she’s just off somewhere blowing off some steam.”

Ian approached the next topic with caution.

“So, uh, I was thinking. And I think we need to talk again about, y’know, our mutual expectations.”

“This shit again? Listen, we already did this, I know we agreed that we aren’t fucking other people—"

“No, no I mean about other stuff. Not even the money stuff again really, just like… if you’re ever going to go back to doing the shit that Terry does. For example.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about man, you know I don’t talk to that asshole anymore.”

“I know, but—what if you want to do stuff with Sandy, or someone makes you an offer for a big job? What if you end up in jail again? What if you feel the way Sandy does and you feel like you need to hide all this stuff from me, meanwhile I’m just here working my ass off trying to make a life for us—”

Mickey paused the video and finally looked up from the phone.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Gallagher?”

Ian ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I just… I don’t want you to not tell me shit, the way Sandy was with Debbie. I’d rather know what illegal bullshit you’re up to, even if you think it’s going to piss me off. I… I don’t want to lose you again. I don’t want you to have to lie to me, and I don’t want you to go to jail again. I just wanna be on the same page.”

Ian inched his hand over the covers and placed it on top of Mickey’s as he kept talking.

“I know we’ve been fighting a lot lately, not agreeing on stuff. But I just…want you to know that I’m in this. I love you, I’m your fucking husband. I want us to work together, and I don’t want you to think that I can’t handle anything, or that we can’t tackle everything together.”

Ian looked down at their hands, letting the silence swell as he traced Mickey’s palm with his thumb.

“Hey, Gallagher. Look at me.”

Ian met Mickey’s eyes—Mickey was looking directly at him, unguarded and open. It reminded him of the look on Mickey’s face when he had tried to break up with Mickey the first time, back when they were both kids sitting on the front stoop and Mickey had sprinted over when Ian called; when Mickey had split himself open, had told Ian how much he loved him, through sickness and health and everything they were about to go through.  

“Sandy’s got her own bullshit to learn. About people caring about her, caring where she is, caring if she throws her life away. But I’ve been here this whole time, and I’ve learned that. Why do you think I used to throw myself into as much risky bullshit as I could, before I was locked up? I was losing myself in everything, because all I ever wanted was this.”

He put his hand up to Ian’s face—a small gesture, but probably the most intimate touch he’d given Ian in weeks. It stung like ice and fire on Ian’s cheek, like electricity was flickering where his fingertips met Ian’s skin.

“I’ve pointed a glock at my asshole dad’s head and been willing to take the bullet for this. I’m not getting involved in any shit that can take you away from me, Gallagher. Am I going to stop forging my payroll for my PO? Or stop selling shitty expired brownie mix? Probably not. But I’m not gonna do anything risky, anything that might take me away from you for good. Never was.”

Ian sighed. He was being stupid, and he knew that. But between all of their senseless bickering the last few weeks, he couldn’t help but worry that Mickey was feeling more and more indifferent about this whole marriage situation, or getting restless about being pinned down. He listened earnestly as Mickey continued talking.

“How many times have I told you—my family was never there for me. You’re the only family I need. And I made that shit official when I put a ring on your finger, or I guess when I forced you to put one on mine. I’ve always been there for you, I’m always gonna be there for you. We fought long and hard enough for this, Gallagher. You just gotta believe in me.”

There it was—that fondness in Mickey’s eyes, the softness that he tried to hard to hide, but showed up anyways as he was tying Ian’s tie, or holding him close through a wave of depression, or kissing his forehead when he gave Ian his meds. Mickey was never going to let anything come between them again, not after all the pitfalls and heartbreak they’d been through—Ian realized that now, even more than he already had.

“I know, Mick. I believe you.”

“You’d better, asshole. Now c’mere.”

Mickey led Ian’s chin forward, and their lips met—just a ghost of a touch, at first, but it made Ian grab the back of Mickey’s neck and pull him in closer, fiercely slotting their lips together again and again.  

They broke apart, and Ian smiled sheepishly. “Sorry for freaking out.”

“I’m all yours, Mr. Milkovich. Whatever shit our families get into can’t change that.”

[thepinkseat-askthemoonbunny]

Welp...I did it. I made yet ANOTHER Silm OC, and I'm not sorry about it (the silver hair/brown skin combo is my aesthetic, don't judge me).

Anyway, this is Aranmír Edlothion, also known as the Prince of Flowers in his wedding attire. I came up with the idea of him from doing a fantasy RP with a friend of mine, and my absolute obsession with enemies to lovers so...here he is! My lovely boi, I hope y'all love him as much as I do! Facts under the cut.

Name Translation:

Father-name: Aranmír- "king's jewel" (I know in Quenya it'd be spelt with a double m but I dunno if that's how Sindarin works)

Mother-name: Edlothion- "blossomer, bloomer, he who causes flowering"

He's the third and youngest child of Thingol and Melian after Luthien and Daeron (cuz I see a lot of people making Dae Luthi's brother in their headcanons and I figured "why the fuck not get in on the headcanon fun? I mean Tinfang would've been her brother too in another version")

He's a botanist and horticulturist who has a stronger relationship with plants than people. He's cultivated several varieties of flower and fruit, hence his nickname. Practically lives in his greenhouse.

Can make a shit ton of drugs, poisons, and alcohols from his plants, my guy is a walking pharmacy.

Looks sweet and nice and poised, is actually batshit feral and will fuck you up.

Horny on main but also a nerd

Will go days without sleep getting caught up in his research.

Loves his family to death and they're all really close-knit, but inferiority complex like a MOTHERFUCKER. Being in this family will do that to you, I mean he’s like an actually cheerful Caranthir.

With Thingol being the greatest of the Sindar and Melian being a literal angel, Luthien being literally the hottest thing to walk the earth (also stupidly magically powerful) and Daeron being the best singer of all time, Ara is just the “weird plant kid”.

His Maiarin magic takes the form of being able to manipulate and magically affect plant growth.

Married Celegorm to forge an alliance for peace. Basically Morgoth is a bigger threat than he is in canon and in order to defeat him, the Sindar and the Noldor have to kiss and make up...literally. Both groups would rather die than join forces but they really have no choice because the Valar are sitting on their glittery asses not helping (at least not yet)

Agreed to the match out of duty to Doriath (and also to say "hey, I'm useful guys. Be proud of me"), Thingol is pissed. "HELL NO, I'D RATHER FACE MORGOTH BY MYSELF THAN GIVE MY CHILD TO THOSE WILD DOGS!"

Luthien is ALSO pissed, especially considering what Celegorm and Curufin tried to pull with her. She is NOT happy about letting her little bro "be sold to a pit of vipers"

On their wedding day there was crying. A LOT of crying. But Ara would die for his people so he sucks it up, and also to protect his brother and sister from being selected.

Those flowers braided into Ara's hair are red anemones, symbolizing protection against evil (he's gonna need it)

To say that he and Tyelko do NOT fuck with each other would be the understatement of the century.

Tried to poison his "beloved husband" once, having a huge knowledge of plants he knows which ones are poisonous af. He was basically in cushy jail (watched like a hawk and confined to his rooms) for like the next two years after that.

Unfortunately for him, Celegorm also knows his plant stuff cuz...hunter, hello. So yeah, that didn't work. He thought it was cute, but told Ara in no uncertain terms that if he tried that shit again, he'd make his life hell.

Turning point came when they were stuck in a survival situation and forced to work together to literally not die.

It's cliche AF but they bonded a little over nature and shit..

Another cliche: It was raining, they were cold and hubby is attractive...so yeah.

Their interactions consisted of VERY sporadic friendly moments interspersed with veiled insults and hate sex. (Ara threw up their first time, feeling like a traitor to his dead kin)

Before they realized "we're stuck with each other forever, may as well try not to be miserable for the rest of eternity"

So they tried to get along and shit and discovered they had a lot of similar interests.

Curufin kinda gets jealous of their friendship because Tyelko's his fave brother (and also Ara tried to poison him)

It literally took them like 300 years to move from enemies to semi-friends.

Ara saved his husband’s life once by brewing up an antidote for a poisoned arrow wound (he didn’t poison him this time)

Celegorm comforted Ara over his grief at Luthien's death (he blamed him at first, of course) and this led to them becoming even closer.

They like to hang out together in the woods, sometimes not coming back for days.