#I'm assuming this is because of one too many injuries

[artschoolglasses]

Tochinoshin, the Georgian Bear, retires from sumo today.🥲

In his prime he could easily carry his opponents right out of the ring.

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: You're a princess locked in a tower and guarded by a big, scary dragon. But is he as scary as it seems? tw: female reader, deceit, manipulation, murder (not reader), stockholm syndrome(?) My ko - fi <3

As the youngest princess, you'd always known you would end up like this. In some far off land with little to your name other than some jewels, stuck in a tower just like your mother had been before she got married to a foreign lord, and finally allowed to re-join society. It was such a cliche it was funny at first, but now you just felt like screaming at the top of your lungs from boredom.

At first you didn't feel the unknown presence. The tall man was lurking in the shadows, as if part of the ancient building. You could smell the herbs in the air around him - the minthy fragrance trailing long after he had retired to his chambers. Then little by little you started to recognise him - in certain shades of sunlight, in the back of mirrors, in the tiny lizards crawling at the corners of the stone walls. But nothing could prepare you for that first morning when you saw him - really saw him.

You had woken up early, startled by noise reminiscent of that a bird makes during flight - but multiplied tenfold. You had looked through the window with a weak, fluttering heart. And then you saw his true form - massive yellow wings covered in what looked like pure gold burning brightly in the sky. Long, hard body made of sun - kissed flakes; so sharp they could be used as arrows. And a thin, curled tail drawing circles around your tower.

One of his empty moonlit eyes turned towards you, and it was all over. He immediately dissapeared into thin air, the only evidence of his existence being miles of thick gray smoke. But you weren't going to let the only living creature around run away so easily.

"I saw you!" You screamed long before you could even begin thinking of proper etiquette. Ladylike behavior be damned, you were dying of loneliness in this stupid tower. "Please..." You begged, voice hoarse and desperate from weeks of forced silence. "Come here." You continued ruefully, playing with your hair, chest riddled with anxiety - after all you hadn't spoken to a human being in so long.

You heard a long, almost pained sigh, which made you turn around. You were greeted by a tall brooding figure. It wore the face of a man, but its long golden hair and broad, muscular shoulders pointed to something a lot less human and a lot more devine. He must have been twice your size - trully intimating in all his shining glory. Even in his human form his skin seemed to glow just like his sharp almond - shaped black orbs, constricted in his yellow pupils.

"I'm always here, Your Highness." You remember his exact words simply because you were taken aback by how soft his voice was - just like fine silk. It wasn't the voice of a dragon, but the voice of an angel. "You just never see me." He added with what you then assumed was a hint of playfulness, but now recognised as annoyance. With that he leaned against the wall, crossing his hands together.

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

Many months passed since that fateful day. You slowly got to know your new companion - or perhaps, guardian. You learnt that many called him Cain after the fallen son* - once a strong soldier of the Lohemian Kingdom, his injuries had made it impossible to keep fighting. That's how your father found him - abandoned by his brothers, lying in a mudded puddle of his own blood. The rest was history.

He didn't speak very much - but he never left your questions unanswered.

"Cain..." You'd call out with practised uncertainty. Even so far removed from your peers, you still couldn't escape the twisted societal ideals of propriety. You could never be too eager to speak to a man - even if he wasn't fully human. "Is that your real name?" You wondered, genuinely curious. You slowly looked away from the book you were holding and towards your friend, the book long forgotten. The dragon was sitting in the other corner of the room. Despite all the time you had spent together so far, he was still hesitant to come near you. There was a certain stiffness in his strong shoulders - as well as his jaw.

"Princess..." The man mumbled softly, your heart aching by the sheer tenderness of the term. Usually you'd pay it no mind as it was your right from birth, your title - but titles didn't matter here. There was no place for status or riches between those four intimate walls that always felt small despite the spacious squares. "Don't you know curiousity got the cat's tongue?" He responded with a crooked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - even his smiles were serious and stoic.

"You have it all wrong." You huffed, standing up from your comfortable chair just to make a big, dramatic gesture with your hands. "It's curiosity killed the cat." You stated confidently, waving your finger at the dragon. He let out a soundless chuckle and averted his gaze away from you. He still couldn't get over the fact that you weren't afraid of him.

"Whatever my Princess says, goes." Cain teased, eyes narrowing further - now they looked like two pitch black slits. He tuck one disobedient lock of gold behind his pointy ear, making the glass beads of his earring jingle in tone. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." He whispered with slight condescension, toying with the dancing little crystals. "My name is Kaajin, if you must know. I doubt you can spell it. It's in Lohemian." He suddenly stared at you as if in a challenge. "Does this change anything? Anything at all."

You shook your head - of course no. There was little your protector could do to make your feelings change; not when you had been so terribly alone without him. Not when he looked at you as if you were precious - breakable, yet precious.

************************************************************************

The days went by slowly. There was nothing there to help pass the time - just your voice and his voice blending together in the echo of the tower. Again and again and again.

"Entertain me." You asked authoritatively, looking at your friend from down below while you were sitting on the ground. You were bored - so very bored. "I don't remember ever signing up to be your personal jester, my Princess." Cain, no, Kaajin replied succinctly, showing off two pointy fangs - and you couldn't help recalling the story of the Sleeping Beauty and the spindle that sent her into deep, eternal slubmer. You wondered how his teeth would feel against your finger - and your throat. Whether they'd tire you or save you with the kiss of true love.

"Please?" You asked sweetly, just the way he liked - just like you had done that cold winter day in December when you first met face to face. It seemed to work, because soon after that you could feel him move through the room with a tired step - ever so dramatic, closing in on you. "Sure." The dragon breathed in your ear, enjoying the way the flesh quickly reddened with emotion. He reached behind the sensitive shell and slowly waved his fingers just short of your nose. In his hand just milimeters from you was hanging a thin silver chain with a little red rose dangling down. "Here. Have fun." He let it slip past his slender fingers and you swiftly reached to catch it before it could break in thousand pieces.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" You asked, puzzled - still looking at the delicate bracelet and the way it seemed to come alive under direct sunlight. "I am not a child." You suddenly puffed, stuffing it into the pocket of your long skirts. Kaajin only clicked his tongue, gently tugging at your wrist until you took it out of your pocket. "Don't be so ungrateful." His strict yet plush voice took you out of your little outburst, and you finally looked up. His eyes were measuring you up, scanning for any hidden movement - any secret emotion. "I am a dragon, remember? We tend to be awfuly protective of our things."

Your eyes filled with curiosity once again. "You mean your jewels?" He nodded rhytmically, trying to keep his composure at the mention of his old, forgotten customs. "I've read some stories about dragon kings stealing piles of golden coins and locking them away for all eternity. "You chuckled to yourself. "Like they could ever use them." Even after all those years you still found the thought amusing. Humans spent their youth slaving away so they could waste the money gained once they were old and wise. Dragons, on the other hand, were satisfied with holding onto wealth and jewels and all those shiny human things - with little understanding of the subejctive value they held in the human world.

"Yes. It's true indeed. Dragons-" Your guard nodded yet again, now somewhat uneasy. "We take good care of our..." He averted his eyes far away from you. "treasures." He finished stiffly, gaze basically burning the ground. "So you shouldn't take my gift lightly. You should wear it with pride. And perhaps in time you'd find another use for it, too." The man explained, a slight blush spreading across his usually high, cold cheeks.

You smiled gingerly, kissing your fingers around the chain before pressing it to your chest - close to your heart.

"I shall cherish it forever, then." You exclaimed, feeling warm inside. You were uncertain as to why, but your stomach was spinning wildly, as if filled with bubbles. "But you still owe me some fun." You giggled, running to start the old phonograph in the corner of the room. It was your favourite thing in the whole world - which didn't mean a lot up here, but it was enough to make your legs move on their own.

As you danced to Vaarlen's famous spring waltz, the air seemed lighter and the cramped hall just slightly more grandiose. It was easier to breathe. You extended your hand towards your dragon, asking him to join.

"You know I don't dance, princess." He grunted, his mood souring. He never told you why he hated it so much, but the man was never too fond of music. Still, you decided to try again. "Oh, come on. Just this once." He didn't seem convinced. "Let me teach you as a thank you gift. I'm serious." You tapped your chest playfully. The man rolled his eyes, then gently took your hand in his. You almost broke into a giddy giggle - for the first time since your family locked you up in the rotten tower you felt happy.

And he always gave into you.

So you two danced, both lost to the music and your own racing thoughts. Kaajin kept his distance, but his hold was strong onto your wrist - unrelenting, like he never wanted to let go. Your body twisted and turned, perfectly synced to the chords, blind to the pass of time. You only realized it had become evening once your back hit the window - it was dark outside. Yet another day gone. Yet another day lost.

"Kaajin..." You could feel the tears burning at your wet lashes before you could stop yourself. You had promised yourself not to think about it anymore - not today, or ever for that matter, but it was impossible once you were faced with the Creator of All. The Master of everything, of everyone - time. How could you ever pretend otherwise?

"Do you think-" You bit the inside of your cheek, your hands fighting the guilt as you let go of his. "Do you think my father would ever let me go into the outside world?"

The guard gulped dry, taking a step back to give you space.

"I-" He took a deep breath, gaining the courage to look at you. "I don't know. The war is still going. Your kingdom has lost many brave men and women. Even the strongest soldiers are starting to capitulate." He couldn't bear to look at your pretty face all messed up by the pain and sorrow, but it was for the best.

"I understand." You muttered, turning your back to him - curling back into yourself. You felt his arms wrap around you, and you remained quiet - neither fighting it, nor embracing it. "Don't cry, my princess." The man whispered. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side." He meant it. You knew it by now, and that only made it all the more tragic. "I swear on my life." You believed him, you had no reason not to - he was the only one you had left.

As for your father, he couldn't really give a proper order now, Kaajin thought. After all, dead men tell no tales.

[woso-dreamzzz]

World Cup V

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first World Cup

Everyone dreams of scoring a goal in the World Cup final. Hell, everyone dreams of scoring in even the qualifying rounds for the World Cup.

But, to you, it was almost certainly going to be a dream.

You were goalkeeper. You didn't score goals. You stopped them.

It was your whole job.

Your first World Cup was an honour. You were still young but it had been timed perfectly. When you were first called up to join Sweden's team, it was as the third keeper.

The two keepers before you had retired just before the selection for the World Cup squad. Two new keepers for the squad (both older than you) had been selected but you were the number one - a combination of your talent, training and just how many more international caps you had over your counterparts.

Coach Emma had been wary about putting you as the first choice but your performances at Arsenal spoke for themselves. There wasn't much she could do. No one else seemed to quite fit the bill like you did.

It had been a hard won road with two rounds of penalties in the knockout stage that you refused to be cowed by.

It all came down to this.

Sweden vs England.

You recognised a few of the girls from playing in the WSL and you gave them each a tense smile as you run through warmups. You sit in your cubby during the last team talk where Emma speaks about the game plan and how much work this will be and how much everyone needs to give it their all. You put on Zećira's old World Cup gloves. You flex your hands before clenching.

You replace her's with your own and roll your shoulders.

You walk out to the cheers of the crowd and take your position.

England are out with a vengeance and you make a few daring saves in the first half but it's mainly Sweden who dominate possession.

You're deadlocked in nil-nil throughout the first half and then the second half.

You leak into nine minutes of injury when one of your midfielders is dispossessed. You can hear Coach Emma yelling something at your defenders but you don't look to see the disarray of your backline. An England kit comes streaking up your left wing. She shoots but you're not worried because you already know that she has a tendency to shoot wide.

You collect the ball for a goal kick and one of England's finest starts a run towards you, to put on the pressure.

You could think of nothing but making sure this forward didn't get anywhere near your box or your ball.

You booted it up the pitch.

To be honest, it was an accident.

It hadn't been you trying anything. All you could think about was making sure England didn't even have a chance to score a goal.

You assumed one of your forwards would pick it up - some of them had this uncanny ability to know what you would do before you did.

Either way, you watched the ball sail over everyone's head...

The keeper was about as far off her line as she could be.

It sailed over her head, bounced and rolled into the bottom right corner.

You freeze in shock.

You hadn't meant to do that.

The crowd behind you screamed and you didn't have time to think before you were completely dogpiled by your teammates.

"Get off!" You laugh, trying to shake them off.

"There's no chance now!" Someone says.

"Keep them away from my goal and then there will be no chance," You reply, still completely trapped.

"Which goals is yours again?" Someone else teases," Because I think you've staked a thorough claim on England's too."

Your cheeks flush red and you bat her away. "Shut up."

"Never!" Someone declares," I'm pretty sure our goalkeeper just won us the game! You're never hearing the end of this!"

"Go away," You laugh," Go on. We've still got a few more minutes to play. Keep them off my goal and I'll let you talk about it all you want."

And they do keep England off your goal.

You sink to your knees in shock as you're dogpiled again. Swedish is flowing easily into your ears but you can't understand any of it. You slowly get to your feet and walk strangely calmly over to the stands.

You pass Coach Emma on the way. She's smiling, clapping you on the back. You think she says something too but you're too busy listening to the roaring of blood in your ears.

You hop the barrier and move into Momma's arms.

She holds you nice and tight as you still stare in shock. You think you're crying but you're numb to most things.

Momma's talking but her words are just static in your ears as you're moved from her to Morsa to moster Frido and then finally to Zećira.

You come back into the present when you see her. Shakily, you remove your gloves and hold them out to her.

She smiles and takes them. "I'm so proud of you. Best keeper in the world."

More tears slip down your cheeks. Your voice breaks. "Thank you."

"So proud of you," Morsa says as she and Momma appear over your shoulders," Clearly you're just like your Momma. Scoring goals."

"Is was an accident," You say softly.

"And it was a perfect accident," Momma says," I couldn't have done it better myself."

You laugh a little wetly. "Well," You say," I must have picked it up from all those times you kicked at me in the garden."

"Champion of the world!" Moster Frido declares, clapping you on the back and planting a kiss on your head," World Champion! Best keeper in the world!"

"Well," Momma says," This keeper needs to head back down to receive her medal. Go on, off you go." She pushes you away lightly.

You hop the barrier again and line up with the others.

There's a sense of pride as you walk across the stage, receive your medal and kiss the trophy.

You feel a little shaky as the trophy is lifted and you celebrate, screaming out your victory for the whole world to see.

You jump around with your teammates, each of them strongarming you into taking a picture with you and the trophy.

By the time you manage to get away, you're jogging over to the England side. You strip your shirt and hold it up into the crowd.

A hand reaches down to take it.

You look up.

Leah stares down at you. She leans over the railing.

"I should be mad at you," She says," But that was the best goal I've seen in a while. I'm very proud of you. Are you sure I can't convince you to stay?"

You look down bashfully and confess," I think Arsenal's getting a bit too small for me."

Leah laughs. "Yeah, I reckon that too." She pulls your shirt over her head. "You'll come back and visit?"

You bump your fist against hers. "Well, North London is red."

She grins at you. "Go on, World Cup winner. Off you go. I'll see you around."

"Bye, Leah."

You jog towards the Sweden side of the crowd again, pumping up your fist as people scream your name.

You skid to a stop in front of Morsa. You drop your medal over her neck.

"For you," You say," For all the World Cup medals you gave me."

[blughxreader]

Seeing you post about taking beginner Chinese lessons made me think of how so many members of the Batfam are just crazy levels of intelligent and they could probably have secret conversations around you all the time in languages and they could be saying the most sinister shit right next to you and you'd never even know

Bruce, in Greek: --- which is why, since y/n can't remember anything from the amnesia caused by their injuries, I told them that they lost their entire family and that's why we took them in

Dick, in Romani: and you made sure to tell their parents the exact opposite right? That y/n died in the accident and you couldn't find the body?

Damian, in Sanskrit: or we could just kill their parents to avoid the risk of them coming to look for their adult child

You, literally sitting at the dining room table with them with a mouthful of some of Alfred's delectable pancakes and assuming they're just talking about hero stuff: 😊😋🥰 this family is so nice, I'm so lucky to have met them

I eat this shit up with the same ferocity as Ras al ghul slurping pit water

I don't think they'd touch your family as long as you remain an amnesiac! Vacations would be held on a different continent because 1.) Gotham is too dangerous, honey :( 2.) The Waynes are famous so lets go someplace where no one will recognize us! <33

Day-to-day life would be annoying.

Tim's been a tick on your side the whole day and your patience is gone.

Dick comes in and Tim says in French, "They're in an prickly mood. Tread lightly."

Dick coos and plops down next to you on the couch, jostling you as he wraps an arm around your back. He replies to Tim in Portuguese, "Do they need a calming pill?"

You shove Dicks arm off and stand up, then re-situate yourself on another couch. The boys make eye-contact before Tim sends a text on his phone. In Greek, he says, "Not a whole one. 70%?"

Dick frowns at you, sad to see your back facing him. In Japanese, Dick says, "But I still wanna talk to them. Make it 45%, just to take the edge off."

Tim's head dips down to his phone again, and Dick says to you, "Want some tea? Alf's got some fresh chamomile."

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Beautiful Boys

Prompt Day 23: Wayne Adopts Steve | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Lingering Injuries/Trauma | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Wayne & Steve, Wayne POV

Wayne is in Hawkins Hardware, looking at the fence pickets. He definitely didn't expect them to have this many choices. He figured he'd come in and buy what he needed, from the only option available. In and out. Wallet a little lighter, but no choices to be made. 

But, no. There are options. Decisions. And he isn't sure which style Eddie would prefer. He just wants Eddie to have a place he feels safe outdoors, again.

Wayne reaches out to touch the samples, again, when he hears clattering and an "oh my god, I'm so sorry" that sounds an awful lot like Steve Harrington.

Wayne pokes his head around the corner of the aisle, and Steve is gathering up a bunch of swag hooks off the floor, swiping them back into his handbasket.

"What're you doin' with those, kid?" Wayne asks, crouching down to help him.

"Eddie's plants," Steve says, standing back up, pushing his hair back and up, out of his eyes. These boys and their hair they can't keep contained. Wayne smiles. He remembers how his (now long-gone) hair was in the sixties. Different styles, sure, but just as impractical, at times.

"Eddie's plants," Wayne repeats with a smile, then asks, "You're gonna hang them from the ceiling?" 

Steve nods, and Wayne grins, "That's a good idea, kid. He'll love that."

Eddie has gathered up a lot of houseplants recently, tending to them, taking care of them, babying them. The first ones were sent to the hospital by his friends, and Eddie latched onto them. And now, Steve drags a new one home every week or two as a gift. Eddie is still recovering, might always be recovering, but his plants make him smile and give him something to do.

Wayne doesn't quite understand it, not with the black thumb he has, but it's like everything else about Eddie. Wayne doesn't have to understand it, to support him. If Eddie wants plants, they can have a whole houseful of them.

Eddie survived something he still hasn't fully explained to Wayne, might never, so if he wants to fill the house with greenery, so be it. 

If he wants to fill the house with Steve Harrington, too, that's also just fine by Wayne.

Steve smiles shyly, "If you don't care that I put holes in the ceiling, that is."

Wayne doesn't care. "I'll help. I've got a stud finder, so we won't have them falling and cracking us on the noggin."

Steve laughs, and nods, "Thanks. What are you doing here?"

Wayne waves him over, getting Steve to follow him.

"Trying to pick fencing for the backyard. If Eddie's gonna keep dragging home strays, we'll need a place to put them," Wayne says, and Steve blushes, just a little. 

"I could make a tent work," Steve teases, and Wayne squeezes his shoulder. Steve is always, and will always, be welcome in the house.

"Good to know, but I was thinking more along the lines of dogs, cats, raccoons. You know how he is," Wayne drawls, and Steve smiles. It's wishful thinking, because they both know the real reason for the fence. Eddie doesn't want to leave the house these days.

"I just assumed I'd get dog-ears," Wayne says, pointing at the slightly-rounded piece of wood on display. "But there are choices."

Steve studies them all, finally saying "I think Eddie would like the pointed ones the most. Looks dangerous," Steve says.

Wayne nods. He was thinking the same thing.

"They're narrower, be more work to set," Wayne mutters.

Steve turns to look at him, "I'll help you, you know that."

Wayne nods. He knows Steve will. He's a good kid, who spends most of his time hanging out in their new little house, doting on Eddie in one way or another. Wayne isn't blind. He knows what this is, what these boys feel for each other, even if Eddie hasn't told him yet.

He will. Wayne just has to be patient.

"Sounds good, kid," Wayne says, and Steve grins, big and bright. Like he wasn't sure his help would be accepted. 

"I don't know much about building a fence, but I can learn. I can follow instructions," Steve assures, and Wayne pats him on the back.

"Let's double-check my math here," Wayne says, pulling a small notepad out of his pocket, rerunning his figures. 

Once he's got a good number, Wayne directs them towards the stain options. Steve picks one with a red tint, and Wayne nods. Looks good to him.

When they get to the counter, he takes Steve's basket and adds it to his.

"You don't have to do that," Steve says.

Wayne knows he doesn't, but it's for Eddie and it's just a few dollars worth of hooks and bolts. He's definitely gonna get his money back in fence-building help.

"I know, I want to," Wayne says, opening his wallet.

Outside, Steve helps the guys from the lumber department load up the trailer full of the pickets. 

"See you at home?" Wayne questions, and Steve nods and smiles.

"Yeah, at home," he answers, walking towards his car, with his small sack of hardware.

And they spend days hanging the over-abundance of plants in front of every window in the house, so many that it seems like they're living in a greenhouse, and then they work on the fence. Putting it up, picket by picket, together.

Sometimes, Eddie comes and sits on the patio and watches, but it still takes a lot out of him, even now, months later. Wayne's worried he might never fully recover. 

But, Steve works hard to entertain Eddie. Steve's funny, and he treats Eddie real good. That's all that will ever matter to Wayne. Eddie's his boy, and by extension, Steve's his boy now, too.

Eddie and Steve fight over the radio, a welcome sound, and Steve's won. 

So, John Lennon's singing about a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy. 

Wayne knows that feeling well.

He's got two of those beautiful boys, now. 

close your eyes, have no fear, the monster's gone, he's on the run and your daddy's here, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy John Lennon, Beautiful Boy

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[moon-fics]

Who Is She?-Simon "Ghost" Riley

A/n: This is definitely a slay! REPOST! This is my work I'm reposting it! I hope ya'll enjoy it!

Summary: You're new to the team but there's something about you Ghost can't quite understand.

Warning: Swears, mention of injury/blood

When Ghost first saw you, he was caught off guard by your appearance. You had a mask that covered the bottom half of your face, an emotionless glaze over your eyes. He almost attacked you with how tense you looked while under his glare, assuming you were an enemy spy snooping around. You got lucky that Price appeared right behind you with a warning look pointed at him. When you noticed Price your body relaxed enough to put Ghost at ease. 

“Simon this is-” Your eyes widen as he begins to introduce you. Before Price can continue, you butt in.

“Trick.” You finish Price’s sentence with a low tone. Price is unfazed by your interruption but waits in case you have more to say. After a few seconds, he guesses you don’t want to talk anymore and pats your back. 

“She’ll be joinin’ you on the Taskforce’s mission. She’s got inside information that we can use and she’s a bloody good shot.” Ghost is barely listening to Price as he observes you. Your eyes are locked with his and he can’t tell what you’re thinking. Usually, he’s able to read someone quickly, but he can barely stand looking at you directly. There’s something about you that makes him uncomfortable and he can’t figure out what.

“I hope you two can work well together since she’ll be next to you the whole time.” Price has a tone that tells Ghost not to argue.

“Him?” You point at Ghost with curious eyes. Price raises an eyebrow in amusement and nods. Ghost is sure he’s missed an important conversation to make Price chuckle at your confusion.

---

You took Price’s words literally because even before the mission you stand near Ghost. Not close enough to bother him or get in his way, but enough to be noticed by the other teammates. Soap has tried to make conversation with you but whenever it gets too personal you put up a strong wall. 

“You should have seen us on our last mission! We barely made it out alive, I’m just glad Ghost didn’ crash the car we used to get away!” Soap explains with a large grin. You nod along, listening to his every word. Ghost is sitting next to you busy making sure Soap doesn’t fabricate any details to make himself seem cooler. “You ever been on missions?”

“I have and they’ve all been successful.” You say nonchalantly as if that isn’t something to be proud of. Ghost can’t help but want to hear about them, but he knows you won’t tell. However, Soap does not and he presses deeper.

“Any impressive injuries? I’m sure ya have a few intense scars!” Just as Soap finishes his sentence there’s a shift in you. From a willingly social attitude to an empty person, your smile falls. The wall builds itself back up and just like that Ghost loses you.

Not a single member has been able to get a single detail of who you are, but Ghost has seen a few things. 

For example, you always smell like roses, except one day when you smelled like vanilla, you seemed upset you had a different shampoo. He also notices you like watching him polish his guns, even if that means sitting in silence awkwardly. 

Even though you hide the bottom of your mouth he can still tell when you’re smiling or frowning because you’ll allow your eyes to give it away. Those are the only times he can actually get a read on you, any other and you’re like a brick wall. It’s not because you show too many emotions or hide your eyes, you just have nothing within them. Nothing he can understand at least. 

You sit next to Ghost as he sharpens his knives carefully. Your eyes never leave his hands and it makes him feel nervous. He doesn’t understand why his hands are sweating and why your eyes are so pretty in this light. 

He reaches for another knife to sharpen and your eyes lock onto it. There’s the smallest amount of interest showing and he can’t help but enjoy how comfortable you’ve become with him. It’s only been a couple weeks but you’ve been showing more emotions around him, only him. He sharpens the knife and puts the cover over the blade. He sighs heavily before handing you it. You give him a smile that not even the mask can hide and gladly take it. 

Ghost doesn’t converse with you often, instead, he has small moments like this. He honestly prefers silent company over eggshell conversations and he can tell you do too.

A week before the mission you seem to sit closer to him and try to be closer physically. He can’t tell why, but he assumes it’s your nerves. You seem protective over him, keeping an eye out whenever you’re around him. He can’t say he doesn’t enjoy having someone to be alert with.

---

Ghost sits next to you on a rooftop, sniper rifles resting on the edge. It’s dark out now, the stars lighting the sky beautifully. Both of you are sitting against the roof edge waiting for the signal to aim. He hasn’t said a word and neither have you.

After a few minutes, Soap comes on the line telling them the targets are in sight. Ghost was assigned one man while you got the other but knowledge was limited on what to expect. Ghost already has his rifle aimed at his target, but something doesn’t feel right.

“I used to know him.” Your voice is low while staring through the scope of your rifle. It takes Ghost a second to realize you’re talking to him and not yourself. His eyes land on your figure, your hands trembling over the trigger, hesitating. For the first time since he’s met you, he can tell exactly what you’re feeling and he wishes he didn’t. When you pull away from the scope your eyes reflect such an empty void. “It’s a trap!” You yell right as gunfire rings out. Bullets barely miss Ghost’s body and you quickly knock him down. The border around the roof is the only thing keeping the two of you from getting shot. 

Ghost watches as you crawl to the roof ladder, the only way off the building. He’s quick to follow, hoping they aren’t too exposed. He’s about to ask how they’ll get onto the ladder without getting killed when you quickly lift him up to his feet. He’s amazed at your strength, almost bamboozled by it. You shove him over the edge and he almost misses the ladder’s steps, gripping them to stop from falling to his death.

“Are you fuckin’ crazy?!” He yells. He’s safe on the ladder, whoever is shooting at them can’t get a view of him here. You on the other hand are extremely exposed and you know this. You have mere seconds to join him on the ladder and yet you don’t. Instead, you disappear from his view, retreating back to the rifles. He screams your name but gets no response. He hears you fire your gun and the sound of screaming from below. You hit your target but compromised yourself in the process. He begins climbing up the ladder to make sure you aren’t dead when your covered face reappears. He sighs in relief, climbing back down to give you room. You make it over the border of the roof and climb down as fast as you can, but it’s not enough. A bullet grazes your shoulder and one hand lets go of the ladder. Blood is soaking through your sleeve and your grunt in pain. 

“Fucking climb, dumbass!” You scream at him and he follows your orders even though he’s in charge. You struggle to reach the ground successfully and Ghost has to grab your waist to make sure you even touch it. He’s still surprised by your tone earlier. Not once have you ever raised your voice like that and it kind of amuses him. Once the mission is over he’s going to get more information on you one way or another.

----

You’re leaving the Taskforce soon, you said so yourself yesterday. He was minding his own business, walking back to his room when he ran into you. You didn’t smell like roses, you didn’t smell like anything actually. You seemed distant towards him, unable to make eye contact. Your mask was sloppily put on, revealing a bit of your nose. The way you spoke was cold and it stung him. It felt like all the progress he made with you had been crushed by your wall.

That’s when he decided to confront Price, to get answers on who you are and how you knew the enemy enough to know the mission was a trap.

“Who the bloody hell is Trick? Why did you bring her in for this mission?” He demands. Price is sitting behind his desk, files piled in front of him. He’s not new to Ghost’s frustration and he understands where it’s coming from. You seem to know way more than you let on about the people the force is targeting. Price also understands that it’s not his place to talk about what you’ve gone through.

“Either she tells you or it remains unknown.” Ghost knows better than to argue further, but he can’t watch you leave without all the answers he needs. It’ll eat him up inside with all the questions swarming his head.

So, he heads to your room, his feet stomping the concrete floor. Once he reaches your room he knocks loud enough to wake someone up. He waits a few seconds before banging again. This time he can hear movement from the other side.

You open the door with your mask perfectly on. You have the same infuriatingly empty look on your face and he can’t stand it anymore. He can’t handle all the new emotions inside him, especially how scared he was when he watched the bullet scrape your arm. How fragile you looked as you helped you onto the helicopter back to base. You weren't masking yourself anymore and he could see the fear in your eyes the entire ride back to base.

“Who the fuck are you?” He’s harsh with his words and you don’t even move. He’s never been angry towards you, sure you’ve seen him yell at someone, mainly Soap, but never you. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually ask.” Your words reboot his brain. He was expecting push back or a refusal of information, instead, you step away from the door and wait for him to enter your room. It’s going to be a long night.

-

“I knew the target because I used to date him.” You explain, sitting on your bed. You’ve answered all of Ghost’s questions, every single one he can think of. You were open to him for the first time and you didn’t hide your emotions, you let them out. It’s a sight only he’ll get to see and he’s happy about it. “It was before I knew what he was doing, I swear. I had already been trained for combat before I met him so it was easy to escape. I had already begun taking out his connections when Price invited me to the team.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Is all he can ask, it’s his last question. He knows you’re probably exhausted from hearing him ask so many things.

“I was ashamed that I dated a man as bad as him. I know it wasn’t my fault, I didn’t know about what he was hiding, but still.” You hum. 

There’s a long silence, Ghost digests the information you’ve given him and he begins to understand you more. Price most likely handed you to him because he knew you’d be comfortable around someone who doesn’t talk as much as the rest of the team. You wouldn’t be questioned by him and you wouldn’t feel as inclined to hide. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your hands coming up to your face. You remove your mask revealing a scar along your lip. It’s not deep but it’s noticeable. That’s the final indicator that you trust him, that maybe these feelings he’s been having aren’t solely his.

“So, what now?” You question, your voice soft. A single word pops into his head the second you spoke, and it grows bigger the longer he remains quiet. It’s practically screaming itself in his head.

“Stay.” Your eyes are wide when looking at them and he loves what he sees inside them. There’s a spark of hope, something he’s never seen from you. It makes him challenge himself to see if he can cause that same look every day. 

“Maybe I will.”

[t3a-tan]

Okay, we know Oliver isn't scared of James but.. what if James (accidentally or not) actually did something that would scare the shit outta Oliver? Make Oliver feel totally vulnerable and terrified?

We really need to see their angst!

(love your work🥰)

You guys asked for it. Ironically @justme315 also just made a post whilst I was in the middle of writing it about wanting some good angst-- hopefully this is filling enough. I also tied this into the injury prompt 31 which was requested!

31) "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Word count: 1,685

---

“We all make mistakes, James. It's a part of life. You shouldn't hold onto that guilt forever. You said yourself that Emily forgave you for—”

“Emily forgiving me doesn't fix anything! Fuck, Oliver— I… I don't want your therapy-speak right now, it's just pissing me off!” James interrupted, a slight growl in his tone as he levelled a half-glare in the borrower's direction. His hands gestured as he spoke to emphasise his point. He knew Oliver was only trying to help, but he always made it sound so simple when life just wasn't like that.

Oliver winced at the volume but didn't let it bother him too much, sensing that if he told James to quiet down that might just aggravate him further. He focused instead on what James said. Therapy-speak?

“That's…just how I speak, James. I'm sorry if it made things worse, I’ll try to…hm.” He paused, thinking over what to do to fix his speech in the moment. “I’ll try not to say too many words. I understand that can be overwhelming for some people when they're in distress. My apologies.”

James groaned, slamming an elbow onto the edge of the table as he buried his face in one of his hands for a moment. He looked up, brows furrowing with irritation clear in his expression. “You are literally doing it right now—”

Oliver bristled.

“Oh. I'm…sorry. I'm just trying to communicate clearly so my intentions and feelings aren't misunderstood.” He hesitated again for a moment as he tried to figure out what about his speech was therapy-speak. Did James not want comfort..? But then what was Oliver supposed to do? He certainly wasn't going to participate in James's self-loathing. He offered a reassuring smile. “How would you like me to speak? I just want to help.”

James inhaled slowly before letting out a huff, closing his eyes and burying his face in both hands now. Rather than answering Oliver he stayed like that; silent, annoyed but trying to hold it back. He knew Oliver just wanted to help— but sometimes that just made James feel worse because Oliver had it all figured out and James didn't.

Sometimes he admired Oliver so much, but other times he felt so jealous. Even now, James knew that he was being the bad guy. Oliver wasn't a malicious person and clearly only cared but James really didn't want care right now. He wanted to shout and yell and throw things and collapse in a corner and cry to himself as the thought of one drink wouldn't hurt kept replaying in his mind over and over again.

Sometimes he just needed that time to get it all out so it wouldn't keep bubbling up inside of him, and Oliver was the one who was keeping him from that. Ultimately neither option would fix the relationships he had broken, so it didn't matter which one he picked, right? Self-destruction was probably some fucked up form of self-love in some way.

“I’m sorry—” Oliver began, feeling slightly on edge seeing James be so quiet and simply assuming, correctly, that he had spoken wrong again. He didn't like the feeling at all. He hadn't felt it before when facing an angry human; even angry dangerous humans; because James was his friend and he wasn't used to seeing him in that way. It felt wrong.

And something was clearly wrong because before Oliver could react, he was snatched up into a fist and lifted up to eye level. The position he was grabbed in was less than comfortable, and Oliver had been startled seeing the movement come from someone who hadn't really grabbed him much since their first meeting. Fully facing James's glare felt almost akin to staring down a gun barrel and Oliver felt nervous despite himself.

“Would you shut up?!! I didn't ask you for help or advice, so stop fucking telling me how I’m supposed to fucking feel!! I'm not stupid— I already know that this isn't bloody productive, but for God sake Oliver, you don't know shit about what I've done!!” James knew he was taking out his anger at himself on Oliver right now, but he just wanted him to stop trying.

Oliver grimaced at the further increase in volume, especially from up close. Even after the shouting and swearing though he could still only see that his friend was suffering and all he wanted to do was help. James might not want it, but he needed it at that moment… He needed to break free of these self-destructive patterns.

“I know you aren't a monster.” He responded simply, and despite his slight unease Oliver still managed to meet James's gaze with his own; seeing right through him and into the hurt that was beneath all of the anger. He could see how watery his friend's gaze was.

And that was what made James snap.

He just wanted to get a reaction— some confirmation of his own thoughts and feelings about himself. He wasn't thinking straight.

James squeezed his hand slightly.

He regretted it in the same second he did it, breath hitching and his hand immediately dropping back down to the table and releasing Oliver onto it like a reflex. His expression of anger quickly became one of horror as he processed the small crack he had heard and felt when he had squeezed. Oliver always seemed so invincible that the harsh reminder that he wasn't hit James like a ton of bricks.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” James gasped, blinking quickly to try to keep the water out of his eyes. Why did I do that? Why on Earth did I do that?? His hand covered his mouth slightly seeing Oliver's alarmed and dazed expression as he raised his arm and looked upon his newly broken wrist. I did that. Oh god.

“I'm…fine…” The borrower uttered slowly, still focused on the injury. The adrenaline rush was likely responsible for the numbness he felt buzzing through his whole body and keeping the pain from being unbearable, so he was fine. For now. His voice wavered slightly and he found it difficult to look up at his friend at the moment.

Is this fear? Why am I afraid..? James is my friend, and this was an accident. He wasn't trying to break anything I'm sure… Oliver brought his other hand up to cradle the injury only to notice his hand was shaking. Not just his hand…his whole body. No. I can't be scared. It will only make things worse…

Oliver looked down at his shoes, trying to gather himself again but failing miserably.

“I.. I'm sorry that I hurt you so much, James. I don't mean to.” He felt something wet roll down his cheek and drip onto the floor. Stunned by the fact that he was crying right now, Oliver wiped it off with his uninjured hand before looking at his slightly dampened fingertips with a furrowed brow of confusion.

“Fuck. Oliver don't apologise, I…” James trailed off. He had never seen Oliver shake or cry before— and even if Oliver was still talking fine James could hear the fear in his voice. “I can help. Just—”

As he reached forward to offer Oliver a hand and take him to where the medical supplies were kept, the usually stoic borrower suddenly backpedalled, stumbling back so suddenly that he ended up falling backwards and onto his behind. James's hand snapped back like it had been burned and his lips pressing into a stressed line.

Oliver's heart was pounding as he stared up at James. He had never been like this before, and he didn't like it at all… I need to get a hold of myself. It was an accident. It was an accident… Despite him assuring himself of that again and again his mouth felt dry as he met James's horrified gaze. He was reminded of the glare that had been there only moments ago.

“It…it was an accident. You wouldn't break anything on purpose… It was a mistake.” He murmured to himself, shoulders bunching up and knees being brought closer to his chest. Even when other humans had given him similar injuries, Oliver had never felt like this. He hesitated, looking down again. “Could I have some medical supplies?”

James stood up quickly, wincing as he saw Oliver flinch in response. He opened his mouth to apologise again before deciding against it and quickly going to the kitchen to retrieve the first aid kit. You haven't changed. Even after everything you haven't changed.

He took a deep breath to try to settle his nerves as he grabbed everything needed and walked back in. Oliver was still sitting in the same position; still not looking at him. I took it for granted again. James set the kit down before resting his hands on the edge of the table. He bit his lip.

“Can I help..?” He asked, desperate to try and right his wrong at least a little. He deflated as he saw Oliver's small shake of the head.

“I would like to be alone for a while, please. I..I don't like how I'm feeling at the moment…” Oliver spoke and James hated how he could hear the nervous trembles in his voice. Still, he nodded, standing up more slowly this time. As he looked down at his friend from this position it became clear just how small and vulnerable he was… He blinked again but it didn't help with the tears this time as one simply rolled down his cheek anyway.

“I’m sorry…” He uttered softly. Why did I think it was okay to grab him in the first place? Just because I can? What kind of monster would do something like that..? Lip trembling slightly, James turned and began to walk away only to pause when he heard Oliver's voice again.

“I forgive you.”

James stood still for a few more moments before leaving the room and sitting at the edge of his bed, cradling his head in his hands. He grit his teeth, shutting his eyes tightly.

Forgiveness wouldn't fix anything.

[scarthefangirl]

Kiss me you moron!

Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Description: When you are injured during a mission Miguel waits in your room for you to wake up. After you do, there are some confessions made.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, language

Story type: drabble

A/N: Bruh I wrote this in one night don't judge, and also I'm working on my requests I promise

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

The mission was simple. Some guy had disrupted this dimension and caused a bridge to collapse and some other havoc. You, Jess, Pavitr, and Hobie had been assigned to apprehend the man while Gwen, Peter B, and Miles helped get people to safety.

You were on a roll, until you weren't.

It all happened so fast, you didn't have a chance to move out of the way. Everyone was so engulfed with saving the people from the threat, even you. No one noticed the car flying towards you at full speed, the driver passed out with his foot on the gas.

At least, not until it was too late.

So there you laid, in the headquarters infirmary, still knocked out. You had a bandage on the right side of your forehead because of a stitched wound. There were stitches in your right arm as well where there had been shards of glass stuck in your arm. You had broken two ribs, and a fractured hip bone that luckily didn't need surgery because of your quickened healing process.

Meanwhile, your team stood outside Miguel's office with bated breath.

"How do we tell him?" Miles asked quietly, eyes filled with anxiety.

"What's the big deal?" Jess questions. Unlike her, the others new his infatuation with you. He always spared her from his glares and scowls, when he would scream at them for failures he never yelled directly at you, and he tried to send you out on as few missions as you'd allow. When you persisted to go, he'd always be extra persistent to the group about watching out for each other.

"Miguel is in love with her!" Pav whisper shouted. Jess just rolled her eyes, although it made a few things click.

"We're going to be professional and tell him that Y/N was involved in an accident and we'll explain it to him," Peter said, trying to be practical. But everyone's eyes widened and they shook their heads violently.

"No no no. Ask any spider person here if that is a good idea. Its not," Gwen said which surprised Jessica because Gwen is normally reasonable. The adult looked around at the teens fearful eyes, except Hobie of course who couldn't wait to see how things played out.

"Why is it a bad idea?" Jessica asked, mainly to humor the bunch.

"He'd freak. He'd probably kill us. No, he would. He will blame us and," Pavitr shivered, unable to finish his sentence. He loved you and everyone knew it. And you loved him, but they didn't know that. Although it could be assumed, and many did, you were better at hiding it then Miguel.

Jessica forced the group inside and they approached Miguel. He turned to them with a frown, one often plastered on his face. "How was the mission?" He asked dryly. His red eyes scowered the faces in his office but didn't see the one he was waiting for.

"We completed it, but there was a complication." Jessica informed him, causing his chest to tighten. If you weren't there, and there was a complication.... He raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to continue. "Y/N was, hurt."

Rage.

They all saw it as clear as day. Anger crawled up his throat and spread across his face. His stomach felt nauseous and he couldn't catch his breath.

"How?" He growled. His hands shook. He hated that feeling. Feeling helpless and.... Scared. It only made him angrier.

"Well we were all just doing our jobs and a car came out of nowhere and hit her." Peter B. said.

"It full on slammed her, you could hear it!" Hobie gawked.

"Not helping Hobie." Miles warned but Hobie just said, "Good." The fury radiated off of Miguel and causes the whole team to cower back. He'd never been this angry.

But instead of screaming at them he just sprinted to the infirmary.

~

Your eyes fluttered open and you went to rub them but felt sharp pain everywhere. You blinked a few times to clear your vision and looked down at your wounded body.

"The heck?" You muttered under your breath. You couldn't remember what happened. You just remembered being on the mission. Suddenly you heard heavy breathing to your side and you looked over to see Miguel staring at you. You nearly jumped out of your skin, resulting in a groan from the pain. He hopped out of his seat and crouched by your head. He tucked some stray hair behind your ear but you gave him a confused look.

"Three questions," You began, "Number one: What happened? Number two: Why are you here? And most importantly, number three, why the fuck are you doing scaring the shit out of me like that?"

"Sorry for scaring you. You got hit by a car and fractured your hip bone, and had to get stitches in a few places because of glass. But the nurses said you'll be better in a few days because of your enhanced healing capabilities." Miguel said it blankly, but you sensed the tenderness behind it.

"That's kinda badass," You grinned. "I mean imagine telling our- shit, I mean, my future kids that I got whammed by a car. Wait- what kind of car?" You quickly tried to recover from saying 'our kids', hoping he didn't notice. He did, however, and completely lost focus, gaping at you. You felt your cheeks inflamed with scarlet humiliation.

"Huh? Oh um, I- I don't know. No pregunté, lo siento." [I didn't ask, sorry] He seemed to be in a trance of some sort, taken off guard.

"Well, that's okay. I just hope it was a cool car. I would rather be able to say 'I got hit by a brand new Corvette' than having to say 'Yeah I got ran over by a Kia soul.' You know?" You ranted awkwardly, truing to lighten the mood.

"Mhm." Was all he hummed in response, still staring off in a daze. You wished you could hide under the sheets until he left. He sat back down in the chair a few feet from the bed and watched you. You felt your stomach churning under his gaze.

"Miguel?" You asked.

"¿Sí?" [Yes?] He looked you in the eyes and you looked into his.

"You didn't answer question number 2." You stated. You wanted to turn your whole body but could only move your head without pain.

There was complete silence for what felt like eternity. You picked at the itchy white sheet over your legs and stared at your fumbling hands. Maybe you had overstepped, but you were sick of you and Miguel tip toeing around the subject of your feelings. He obviously liked you, at least, you hoped he did.

"When they told me you were hurt... I've never been so terrified in my life." He admitted, meeting your eyes once more. You were challenged to match his at first, but you forced yourself to stare back at his red eyes.

Miguel O'Hara terrified. For you no less.

You didn't know what to say. Thank you? I'm fine? You don't have to be here? Nothing seemed right. Before you knew it, words were slipping out of your mouth.

"I'm in love with you." You said then dropped your jaw, turning your red face forward and refusing to look at him. Did you really just say what he thinks you said? Did I really just say what I think I said?

Maybe it was because of his silence. Maybe it was because you wee hoping to admit your love somewhere more romantic. Maybe it was because he hadn't said anything to lead to this response. But you were mortified. You felt tears brimming in your eyes, the cause being a mixture of pain and embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, that just sorta slipped." You glance at him for a moment then quickly look forward again. He's so beautiful.

"Its okay." He immediately regretted saying that. It's okay? What does that even mean? Both of you thought in unison. He wanted to tell you he was in love with you too but while he was trying to think of how to say it, the others came in.

"Hey!! Great to see you awake Y/N, we were just coming to check on you." Jess said, then glanced at the looks on you and Miguel's faces and felt out of place. "Are we- interrupting?"

"No," You managed, not sparing Miguel a glance. Gwen gave you a side hug on your good side and the rest of the team stood at the end of the bed. Miguel shifted uncomfortably in his seat and let a scowl rest on his face. You swear he'd scowl no matter how happy he was,, only now he wasn't happy. He wasn't displeased with you, but with himself.

"We're so glad you're gonna be okay," Miles smiled sweetly.

"Thank you," You wanted desperately to get your mind of Miguel. 'I probably look like shit." You chuckled uneasily.

"You look fine." Miguel musters. You can't help the butterflies that erupt at his statement, much to your dismay.

"So, one question." You chose to ignore Miguel, scared to cry. Everyone looks at you, encouraging you to continue. "What kind of car was it?"

"A Honda civic." Hobie stifled a laugh.

"Damn, I was hoping for something cool." You rolled your eyes. Everyone chuckled but there was a looming tension in the room and they didn't need spider sense to feel it.

"Right well, we should head out. We'll check on you later Y/N," Peter smiled and patted your good leg.

"Sorry you got hurt, we'll be more careful next time!" Miles called on his way out, but you assumed it was more to please Miguel than you. The door shut and without missing a beat Miguel immediately stated,

"I'm in love with you too." You beamed after he said this, look over at him.

"I know this isn't the best time, but come kiss me you moron!" You laughed. He quickly obliged, walking to you and leaning over the bed to press a soft kiss on your lips. The corner of your mouth was cut but you couldn't care less, happy to finally kiss him. He deepened the kiss slightly, but you couldn't do much because if your injuries.

"MY EYES!!! I NEED TO BLEACH MY EYES!!!" Hobie screamed after having walked in on the scene. You laughed into the kiss and pulled away, breathless.

You watched Miguel's face, tracing every detail into memory. You weren't exactly sure where this left you guy's relationship, but you felt an ache in your chest from how happy you were.

You noticed the glimpse of sadness in Miguel eyes and ask him if he's alright. He just holds your hand, looking at your slightly swollen (but still beautiful) face. "For a second I thought I'd lost you, when they came in without you," he paused briefly before whispering, "I can't lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere. A few broken bones and some cuts aren't going to be enough to keep me away from you."

~

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[archangeldyke-all]

Are your Sevika requests still open? 🥺👉🏽👈🏽

I have this idea in my head that I can't get out. I'm not a huge fan of the concept of having kids (not for me!) but I can't help but think of Sevika very slowly changing her attitude and priorities around fighting for the cause because she just found out she's gonna be a dad in the future. Her hesitating around something Silco asks or mentions and her being like "I..I got a kid on the way." Cis or trans Sevika, doesn't matter either way

sevika requests are always open :) and this is the cutest thing i've ever heard.

i don't want kids either, but for sevika?? i'd have so many of her kids that the doctors would have to tell me to stop before my body gives out.

men and minors dni

you and sevika don't want kids. it's not in your plan.

sevika's got a dangerous job. it took years of convincing, years of proving to her that you'd be okay without her, that you want her just as she is now, for her to finally give in and make you hers.

and you're perfectly content.

she works horrible hours and comes home beat up more often than not, but you take the time to patch her up each night, and the two of you spend every free second you have together.

she moved you into her place on your fourth date, and you've been happily living together ever since.

and two years ago, when she shyly shoved a tiny box in your hands and nervously looked away as you opened it, mumbling under her breath a question you could barely make out ('i was wonderin' if you'd like to maybe spend forever with me?') you said yes, with no hesitation.

you guys didn't get married. weddings in zaun are incredibly rare, saved only for the wealthiest, and getting a marriage certificate from piltover for two zaunite women is nearly impossible. but, you had a little ceremony in the last drop (which was really just an excuse to throw a rager) to commemorate your eternal love for one another.

and since then, you've been perfectly happy with your little life.

but, accidents happen.

accidents like sevika swearing she'll pull out, begging to feel you without the condom, then cumming the second she pushes inside of you, whimpering and apologizing and cursing your hot, wet cunt.

accidents like you sleeping through the alarm for your pill.

accidents like sevika forgetting to grab a plan b on the way home, too busy fiddling with the tooth some goon knocked loose in her jaw to remember.

and, usually, these accidents lead to nothing happening. so you and sevika assume it's safe to keep letting them happen.

but then, your period's a week late.

and then two.

and then you take a pregnancy test, and it comes out positive.

and then you take three more, and they're all positive too.

you're paralyzed with shock and fear. you spend the entire day sitting in the bathroom, staring at the positive tests on the counter, crying and laughing, then crying again.

the thing is, you're not opposed to having kids. and now that you know you'll have one in nine months or so, you're fucking elated. but you know sevika doesn't feel the same. and the thought of losing her because of the cells growing inside of you, the thought of having to choose between sevika and the tiny little fucker you're already in love with-- it kills you.

sevika comes home to find you having a panic on the bathroom floor.

"babe, you'll never guess what silco did toda-- what the fuck!?" she exclaims, immediately dropping to her knees and gathering you up in her arms. "baby-- what's wrong? are you hurt?" she asks, grabbing your face in her hands and forcing you to look at her, her eyes flying over your body, checking for injuries. you just cry more, already mourning the loss of her touch that you've grown so used to.

"i-i-i'm sorry." you cry out. sevika blinks at you.

"for what?!" she asks. "baby, you're freaking me out, what's going on?" she asks, panic in her eyes.

you take a shaky breath then reach up to grab one of the tests on the counter behind you, sobbing as you bring it down to hold against your chest.

"i'm sorry, sev, i c-can't-- i don't think i can--"

"what's that?" she asks, gently reaching for your wrist to pull your hand away from your chest.

you gulp and bite your lip as you open your hand, letting her get a good look at the test.

the confusion on her face melts. a stoic look takes its place as she blinks down at the little plus sign on the little plastic test.

you look away from her face, too heartbroken to watch her process the news. tears stream down your face as sevika's hold on your wrist goes shaky, and you prepare yourself for her to pull away.

only, she doesn't.

if you had looked, you'd see the hesitant little smile pulling at the corner of her lips. if you had looked, you'd see the way she gulps like she always does when she's surprised, the tears welling up in her eyes, the way she took a silent gasp as she blinks down at the test in your hands.

you're shocked when she pulls you toward her chest, hugging you tight against her body.

"sev-- don't." you whimper. she blinks down at you.

"what-- whaddya mean 'don't'?" she asks. you take a shaky breath.

"if you're gonna leave just leave-- i can't-- you can't be nice to me, it'll kill me." you say.

sevika's heart breaks.

she's never wanted kids. and you're fine with that.

but the second she saw the test, something happened inside of her, something swirling and giddy and nervous. something kinda like how she feels for you, but a little different. a little deeper, a little less hot and a little more familiar.

everything else in her world fades away. the stories she's been dying to tell you all day, the fire in her heart for zaun, the sounds of drunkards stumbling by your apartment, it all goes silent. it's just you and her, and in that moment, sevika realizes that maybe a kid wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. especially not with you.

sevika kisses your forehead, tears welling up in her eyes at the sound of your muffled sobs.

"i'm not leaving you baby, don't be ridiclious." she says. you cry aloud at her words, wrapping your arms around her back and clawing at her shoulders, trying to pull her impossibly closer to you.

"don't say that." you whisper, shakily.

"i'm not just sayin' it. i mean it. we promised each other through thick and thin, right?" she asks. you nod against her.

"but you don't--"

"i don't care." she says. "i'm a fucking idiot, you know that." she says. you let out a shaky laugh. "i'm not leaving." she says again.

in your first trimester, sevika's still a little hesitant-- still a little distant.

she's not sure how to handle all the emotions in her body, all the love and anxiety swirling up at all times. she puts her energy into making you comfortable, holding you when morning sickness takes hold, stocking up on prenatal vitamins and your favorite snacks, pampering you even more than usual.

this, she can handle. she loves taking care of you, she loves babying you, and with all the anxiety in her mind surrounding the baby, caring for you helps her quell it.

she doesn't talk about the baby much. she's still too nervous to talk about it.

but in your second trimester, you start showing. no longer just a little extra fat on your stomach, your baby's actually visible now. your shirts start riding up your abdomen, a little swell peaking out every time you stretch or move, and she can no longer ignore it-- there's a baby in your belly. and it's hers. and it'll be here soon.

you wake up many nights with gas or aches, and find sevika already awake, a furrow in her brow and her lip between her teeth as she gnaws on it. you ask her what she's thinking about, and she just curls around your body and kisses you back to sleep.

sometimes, you wake up to her hand hesitantly rubbing your belly, like she's scared to touch you. you just rest your hand on top of hers, interlacing your fingers and keeping her hand on your stomach while you both fall back asleep.

if she was better with words, if she had the words to express herself, sevika would tell you that she's scared. she hasn't even met the little fucker yet, and she already loves it more than anything else in her life. it terrifies her, for all the same reasons you do. she has a dangerous job, and second in command to a revolution isn't a suitable job title for a new mom.

sevika knows what it's like to grow up without a parent.

sevika knows what it's like to grow up with a jaded parent, too, someone who's closed their heart off to the world to avoid being hurt, and in turn can no longer love. and she doesn't want to do that to your baby. she doesn't want to do that to you either.

and at work, when she gets in scuffles, or gets a knife drawn on her, or gets shot at, it takes her twice as long to catch her breath.

since meeting you, she's always seen your face flash before her eyes when she dodges a fatal hit. and now, it's ten times worse.

sevika was never scared to die before she met you. and then, seemingly overnight, she became horrified of dying-- scared of what her dying would do to you. she can barely stand seeing you suffer from a headache, the thought of leaving you behind, the thought of breaking your heart like that-- it nearly kills her.

and now she's got a kid to think of too.

so, one late night, sevika approaches silco with a grimace on her face and a case of fancy imported cigars in her hands.

he knows something's up. he's known for months. but he lets her stutter out an explanation as she pushes the case across his desk.

"i-- i think you need to find a new number two." she mumbles. he raises an eyebrow at her.

"second thoughts about the cause?" he asks, flipping open the lid of the case and grinning at the quality.

"no, never." she spits out. silco chuckles and holds a hand up, reassuring her that he was only teasing.

"it's your wife?" he asks. sevika blushes at the word 'wife' like she always does, then looks away.

"no. she's tough, she'd be fine without me." she says fondly. "i..." she gulps then takes a deep breath. "we've got a kid on the way, silco." she whispers.

he freezes, his jaw dropping in shock. sevika never calls him silco, no matter how many times he insists she does. she's serious.

"i didn't take you for the mothering type." he says. she chuckles.

"no, neither did i." she says with a shrug. "but... i'm not mad about it." she says. "i'm... actually really excited." she whispers.

silco laughs, then rises from his seat, rounding his desk to shake sevika's hand. it's the closest to a hug the two of them will ever get.

"you'll be an amazing mother." he says sincerely. she has to blink back tears at his words. "come, let's smoke to celebrate." he says, waving her over to his desk.

the two of them spend the night negotiating a new position in silco's crew for her. she'll stay on as his consultant and strategist, and take on more responsibilities at the legally run bar and club downstairs, but he'll be finding somebody else to take on the more dangerous and criminal aspects of her job.

sevika doesn't tell you for a few weeks, until the change is complete.

she stops coming home with bruises and scrapes. she starts being lot more openly lovey dovey, no longer waiting for the dark of night to place a hand on your stomach, praising you at any chance she can get, even buying parenting books and beginning the 'babyproofing' process.

you don't ask her what's up, knowing she'll tell you in time.

and one day, you get home from work to a home cooked meal and candles on the dinner table.

sevika grins at the sight of you. you fawn at the way she walks you to the table, pulling the chair out for you, pressing kisses to your head and shoulders.

"what's going on?" you ask, giggling as she sits beside you. (she never sits across from you, she can't touch you from the opposite end of the table.)

"i'm in love with you." she says. you laugh.

"we've been married for two years sev, you better be." you say. she laughs, and kisses you again.

"i've never been more excited for my future in my entire life." she says quietly against your lips. tears well up in your eyes as you grab her hand. "we're having a baby." she says reverently, like it's the first time she's finally processing it. you don't tease her for it, you just squeeze her hand in yours and kiss up the tears that race down her cheeks.

"we are."

"and it's gonna be here in three months." she says, a beaming smile on her lips. you smile right back and nod.

"it is."

"i... i want to be the best mother i can be for the little fucker." she whispers, staring down at your stomach. "i want to be the best wife i can be for you." she adds on, her eyes flicking back up to you.

you nod at her, still unsure of where she's going with her conversation.

"and i can't do that if i'm dead." she says. you blink and nod and she sighs. "i talked with silco. we got a new arrangement for me at work." she explains. "just paperwork from here on out." she says. "i'm gonna get all lazy and weak sittin' behind a desk but..." she shrugs. "it's worth it for you two." she says.

you abandon dinner to fuck sevika on the dining room table.

(it's not a big deal though, sevika's never been a good cook, and she tried her best, but the food that grows cold on the table was already burnt and unevenly cooked and so over-seasoned it was basically just a pan of garlic powder.)

silco, surprisingly, is incredibly invested in the little fucker. sevika comes home once or twice a week with a new onsie or toy for the baby, gifted to her by your kid's self-appointed god-father.

by your third trimester, sevika's more excited than you are for the baby to come into the world, which is a hard feat, because you're constantly achy and sore and peeing and bloated and uncomfortable and cursing sev for ever putting her hands on you in the first place. she takes all your complaints in stride, endlessly spoiling you, constantly massaging your feet and tits and shoulders, pressing kisses against all your hormonal acne and strange patches of hair, accompanying you to the bathroom the fifty times you have to go a day.

and when your daughter finally arrives, sevika cries like a baby the first time she holds her.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[dandylovesturtles]

more Firelined propaganda, because I love them. as always, Firefight is owned by @remedyturtles

for the @tmntaucompetition

-----

Somehow, their teammates are stable. As far as Donnie can tell, this is pretty lucky, given the shape they were in. The other Leo still hasn't come out of his shell, though, eerily silent where he's cradled in the other Donnie's arms. He hasn't wanted to let go, even since they moved the both of them to a cot, and Donnie can't blame him.

There'd been some more running around, some more efforts to get them treated and comfortable, over the course of the last few hours. And now Donnie is pretty sure it's late (or he's experiencing some kind of interdimensional jetlag), and everyone but him is asleep. They'd found another cot and forced Leo, shaking and clearly low on energy reserves, into it; he'd fussed and insisted he wasn't tired, but the moment his head hit the pillow he was fast asleep. It was a little funny - the kind of thing they could chuckle about now, so many months into Leo's recovery. Raph had slumped against the wall and Mikey had climbed into his lap to nap there.

Donnie had promised them he'd join them soon enough. But so far he hasn't moved from his chair by their teammates' cot, typing away on his wrist tech and occasionally asking Shelldon to run some calculations for him.

At least, Donnie thought he was the only one awake, but the longer he sits there, the more he starts to feel the telltale prickle of someone watching him. His eyes rise from his screens and meet the gaze of the other Donnie, awake and observing him from the cot.

He lowers his wrist and gives a little wave of his fingers to the other Donnie. "Do you need more painkillers?" he asks quietly.

(He really needs a distinct designation for their counterparts. He remembers Leo floating the names "Leonother" and "Donatwollo" and shudders. For now, he decides to mentally refer to them as Donnie-β and Leo-β.)

Donnie-β shakes his head. His eyes float beyond Donnie, to where Leo is asleep in his cot. He points and makes a sign that Donnie assumes is his name sign for Leo-β (different from the name sign for his Leo, which is interesting), then waits to see if Donnie understands. At his nod, Donnie-β proceeds to sign, "Sleep, how?" as best as he can under the circumstances.

Donnie lets out a huff that's almost a laugh. "I'm guessing your Leo also suffers from insomnia?" Donnie-β nods. "As it turns out, chronic fatigue is a surprisingly effective cure." Donnie turns back and glances at Leo, sleeping away. "Usually, anyway..."

There are sometimes days Leo suffers from both, too tired to move but unable to sleep. He's always especially emotional on days like that, and Donnie knows he hates it, so he's glad Leo's brain is letting him sleep tonight.

When he looks back, Donnie-β has a complicated expression on his face that Donnie doesn't know how to begin to unpack. After several awkward seconds of silence, Donnie-β signs again, just, "How?" this time.

"How was he hurt?" Donnie clarifies, and Donnie-β nods again. "It was... the Dark Armor. Draxum put him inside." At the wide-eyed look of horror on Donnie-β's face, Donnie comes to the conclusion, "That didn't happen in your timeline, did it?"

Donnie-β shakes his head. It's not a surprise, at this point.

"It seems to be a unique event to our timeline, at least insofar as those assembled here are concerned," says Donnie, flipping through screens to bring up the research he's done on the alternate timelines here. "So far I know of one other timeline where Leo was put inside the armor, but their circumstances are substantially different from ours." He looks back at their teammates, taking in their substantial injuries, then asks, quietly, "This wasn't the Shredder, was it?"

Tired, Donnie-β shakes his head. Then, with a trembling hand, he fingerspells, "Krang."

"We've heard of them," Donnie tells him. "In other universes... Well, it seems like no one got off particularly easily."

It takes some fumbling from his position, but Donnie-β manages to sign, "Maybe not you," indicating the entire group when he does.

Donnie just shakes his head. "We aren't any more lucky than you guys," he says, which makes Donnie-β's mouth twitch in a motion that is at once humorous and grim.

Another few minutes of silence follows, during which Donnie goes back to looking at his screens, mostly to give Donnie-β the illusion of space. He can tell Donnie-β is thinking something over and trying to decide if he wants to bring it up (pretty weird to see that thought process play out on a mirror of his own face, actually), and he also knows it will be easier for him to come to a decision if he's not being stared at.

Finally, Donnie-β motions for his attention, and, once he has it, signs out, "Was it bad?" before indicating that he's talking about Leo. "Mentally, emotionally," he adds.

Donnie grimaces. Ah, no wonder he debated over saying anything... This isn't a topic Donnie is eager to discuss, either. But he has a feeling Donnie-β must have a reason for asking, so he's willing to talk. A little, anyway.

"Yes," he says. And then, because saying it all out loud is starting to feel dangerous, he turns off his wrist tech and switches to modified ASL (luckily, other than the name signs, Donnie-β's version has been close enough for him to follow so far). "It was bad."

Donnie-β looks at Leo, hesitancy written all over his expression. "Can you tell me?" he finally signs, with shaky hands, like he's not sure he wants to know about it but has to ask.

Donnie hesitates, too. Talking about his brother's mental health issues to other people without Leo's permission is a line he would not normally cross. Leo deserves to control who has that kind of information about him, and in what circumstances they're told. In this situation, he doesn't think Leo would mind, but still...

He decides on a compromise. "I can tell you how it was for me."

Perhaps Donnie-β understands the thought process that led here, because he nods and doesn't press for more.

Donnie takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. Thinking about that time, at the beginning of Leo's recovery, is stressful and comes with no small amount of shame. But he can do it, if it will help someone else with their own troubles.

"He was struggling," Donnie signs, because that much he knows is safe to tell, "and I didn't understand. I pushed too hard. I needed him to heal on my timeline. I wanted things to be normal. I wanted to go back to how it was before."

He chews on his lip, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I was scared. I felt like I was losing someone. I wanted my Leo," he uses his own name sign for Leo, then points to be sure Donnie-β knows who he means, "back. I wasn't ready to accept I wasn't getting him back."

Donnie-β's face seemed to drain of color, and he hugged Leo-β to his chest ever tighter. Donnie could only imagine what was going though his counterpart's head.

"Mikey," he fingerspells the name for Donnie-β's benefit, "said I was in mourning." He shrugs exaggeratedly - not because he doesn't believe Mikey, but because feelings have never been his area of expertise. "And that was okay. But I needed to love Leo where he is now."

He glances back at his brother, still sleeping soundly. He feels his heart swell when he does - that part, at least, had been easy.

"Leo is different now. And I love him." Donnie makes the sign for "love" extra exaggerated, to add as much emphasis as he can. "Who he is now. As much. More." He glances over his shoulder again and smiles at Leo.

Donnie-β listens. He puts his chin on Leo-β's shell, tapping out the same message to him again.

"...Scared," he rasps out loud, and his voice barely works; Donnie has to lean in to hear. But Donnie-β seems unwilling now to take his hands off Leo-β. "Of losing him for good."

Donnie's own stomach drops at the idea. He gives his head a firm shake, like that will banish it entirely, for both of them.

"You won't," he says. "You'll save him."

Donnie-β looks hauntingly unsure. "How do you know?" he whispers.

"Because you're Donatello Hamato," says Donnie fiercely, "and you can do anything."

Donnie-β doesn't smile, or laugh, or react in any way a Donnie might normally. Donnie supposes that Leo-β isn't the only one who's going to be different now.

But he nods, seriously, his hand keeping up the gently taps on Leo-β's shell.

"Wouldn't want... to give Donnies a bad name," he murmurs.

"That's right," says Donnie, a sigh in his voice. "And - not to sound like Raph here - but maybe you should start by getting some rest yourself."

Donnie-β lets out a noise that is close enough to an annoyed huff it makes Donnie smile.

"If anything happens-"

"We'll wake you. Don't worry."

A nod. Donnie-β's eyelids droop.

He's asleep soon, curled around Leo-β's shell even in slumber. Donnie makes sure the blankets are tucked firmly around both of them, then stretches.

"Shelldon, wake me if anything changes."

"Sure thing, dude."

Donnie looks at Raph and Mikey's mini-turtle pile, then turns back to Leo's cot. It's not really big enough for two, but without his battle shell Donnie is pretty sure he can make it work.

He tucks himself in behind Leo. Leo makes a soft noise in his sleep, turning over and curling into Donnie instinctively.

Donnie would never want anyone else for a Leo. He knows Donnie-β feels the same about Leo-β. And that's why Donnie can rest - believing, eventually, they would be okay.

[genshinwomenontop]

"Princess Kamisato"

☆Prompt: Nothing too intense. Just a random drabble about Ayaka and her wife, you.

☆Warnings: None

The radiant sun shone through the thin curtains of the room. Ayaka slept peacefully on your chest, her hand interiwined with yours as a gentle smile made its way onto your face. Its not everyday you get to see such a beautiful sight; actually, it's not everyday you get to see Ayaka when you wake up because she's always up early and started her duties. Since Ayato is away, it made her automatically in charge of everything until he returned and the work that the head of the clan does is not to be taken lightly which is why in times like these you try to offer the best support you can as you know how difficult her job would be.

When you checked the time, it was nearly 6, the time Ayaka would have to wake up and though it hurt to wake her up, you knew she needed to get ready since she's meeting with some other clan heads today. You brought her hand up to your face and kissed it gently. Her hair was sprawled out and little snores left her mouth. She couldn't have been more beautiful than in that moment. "Hey, beautiful, its time to wake up." With a gentle shake, she stirred awake, her eyes immediately searching for yours.

"Hmmm good morning y/n." Her words came out like a mumble due to her now waking up. Her beautiful sky blue eyes met yours and with a simple smile, she managed to make your heart fluttered.

"Good morning to you lovely. You have a busy day ahead." Ayaka sighed and laid her head back down on your chest.

"Can I cancel the meeting? Or even postpone it to a later date?"

You let out a hearty laugh and brought her face up to yours. "No my love you cannot. The meeting was already postponed two weeks ago when Ayato had left the same day the meeting was scheduled for." Ayaka closed the gap between you and her. Her lips fitting perfectly with yours like a puzzle. She pulled away with air became a problem and smiled at you.

"Well then, I guess it's time we get up. Will you accompany me today?" Ayaka had a bright smile and you knew the news you'd deliver will definitely break her smile.

"I'm afraid I cannot. There's some things I need to buy and I have alot of errands to run. I'm taking half of the list of duties Ayato left for you so it can be done in time for his arrival." A frown etched onto Ayaka's face before she nodded and sighed.

"Hmm okay. I guess I'll go alone today then." You nodded and she got up and got dressed. Of course you helped her dress, the two of you having playful bicker back and forth. You left home as soon as you prepared breakfast for the both of you. Alot had to be done today, and since the vision hunt decree had been abolished, and many travelers from different nations visited Inazuma, it became one heck of a busy nation but the atmosphere was livelier, much more livelier and you couldn't help but be glad. It was definitely better than living in isolation that's for sure.

Your tasks took longer than you had intended and eventually you ran into some trouble along the way. You made it back safely, but of course, you had bruises. You had assumed that Ayaka was already back at the estate since it was late and you hurriedly went in. Breathing heavily, you were greeted with a concerned Ayaka who was just about to have her tea which was poured by Thoma. "Dear... are you okay?!" She quickly went to your side.

"I'm fine love. It's just minor injuries that's all there is." Ayaka didn't want to believe you but she knew you wouldn't lie. Thoma offered to prepare a bath for you and Ayaka instructed you to sit down with her and drink tea. "How did the meeting go?"

"It was fairly well. Though the heads didn't looked too pleased to know that I was the one seeing them." You can clearly see how how face fell.

"It's alright dear. There just upset that they have to deal with someone who's much more beautiful and talented than them." Even though that had nothing to do with what Ayaka just said, the best way to comfort her was the give her compliments or reassurances.

Ayaka blushed and whined. "Stopp ittt..."

Thoma came back and informed you that the bath is ready and in a quick motion you pulled Ayaka up to her feet and dragged her to the bathroom. "Let's take a bath together." She was slightly flustered yet she started taking off her clothes quickly, a bit more excited than you for the bath.

When you sat down in the water, it felt like all your stress melted away and adding to that, when Ayaka's head rested on your chest, you felt like you were in heaven. Just having her so close to you felt like having a cure to your pain. You didn't realised you were spacing out until you felt two hands gently cupped your cheeks. "A penny for your thoughts, my dear?" Her sweet voice resounded by your ears.

You leaned into her touch and smiled. "The thoughts I have in my mind is worth more than a penny and you should know that." She titled her head with a smile.

"May I ask what is this expensive thought of yours?"

"My wife. You should know she's priceless."

"Y/nnnnnn"

"Oh you know I love to make you blush~"

"I-I know..."

"Ayaka?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[spidey-555]

Things I hope the devs of CotL don't do, but a part of me feels like they'll do anyways (or might already be doing):

Revive Ratau if we chose to sacrifice him. Like I said on a previous post, it would invalidate the weight of our decision, and would open the floodgates of "can we undo other heinous actions we do?" If yes, then why should we care about the events of the game if they can all just be undone?

Make the bishops so unlikable and unsympathetic to the point where the audience ceases to care about them. I know they already aren't the most likable characters due to their abrasive personalities (excluding Shamura), but people still find them tragic, so taking away that would just be the nail in the coffin. Unfortunately, this one already seems to be happening, if the description for the graphic novel is anything to go by.

Make Narinder seem like the good guy or otherwise have the story take a side in the whole "sealing of the one who waits" debacle. This kind of ties in when the previous bullet point (especially with the "already happening in the graphic novel" thing), but if they did this, it would feel like they're just pandering to the Narilamb fans by having the story bend over backwards for it.

Have the Lamb be this flawless, unstoppable, and perfect being who everyone (except bad people) loves and will never lose ever. This one is kind of self explanatory. If the devs decide to go this route, then I feel many people would cease caring about the conflicts if this game. After all, if the Lamb can't lose ever, then what's the point of caring about any the conflicts in this game of the Lamb? I will admit that this one is more of a "me" thing than anything else

Cure the bishops of their disabilities. Heal the injuries, sure, but not the disabilities, please. In my opinion, it would be very ableist to do this, as it would imply that the only way for the bishops to be truly happy is them being cured of their disabilities.

Have there be a "canon" interpretation of the Lamb. At the end of the day, the Lamb is a player-insert character, and the fun about those characters is that they can essentially be anyone and can have many interpretations. Making a "canon" Lamb would take away the fun of those characters. This ties into the other Lamb related bullet point somewhat.

Have the Fox and Midas become followers once we beat them. This is assuming we fight them at all, of course. This one is also very opinionated. I feel like getting them as a follower would be bad because it would A) imply they have a chance at redemption and personally I like the fact that we have at least 2 villains we can just hate (here's hoping to more!) B) let us treat them however we want, which means they could not get the punishment they deserve. And before someone says that you can do the same with the bishops (the whole "not getting the punishment they deserve" thing), they already suffered in purgatory, which counts as punishment imo.

Rely too much on toilet and "naked people are funny" humor. This one is another opinionated one. Personally, I'd prefer if we got more character-based humor (hell, maybe some surreal humor as well) than humor that only a child would laugh at. I do want to post this one on the suggestions channel, but I'm afraid of the backlash.

I'll probably add more onto this when it comes to mind

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I am working on a story where one of the three protagonist has a burn scar. This character has from the eye to half their right cheek of a burn; this happened around 9 years ago (the character was 10.)

I am working on historical-fantasy setting, I know you guys are not historians but I was hoping you could help me out with ideas.

In my story, there is a few chapters where the characters go to a snowy mountain for a couple of days, and there are temperatures ranging from 20ºF to 10ºF with snow and harsh wind, is there any protection/possible cream needed for the face and the eye for that situation?

Also, around 10% of the story has fights that include armour (including a helmet to protect the face and the head,) would a character with that type of burn may need a special helmet?

Just to clarify, the character for most of the story doesn't have any mask or anything covering their face, except in the moments of battle where every other character is also using a helmet and armour.

Not sure if there is anything potentially problematic in this, but the character got that injury due to a baby dragon of the family accidentally burning his face (this is a society where dragons are like animals and common in the house.) Because it happened so many years ago there isn't any angst feeling or people in his community commenting about, except in a scene where the protagonists are talking about traumatic things and this character mentioned that they remember when it happened his parents were afraid he was not going to make it, not realizing he was hearing it.

There are other background characters with burns, scars and stumps due to the nature of this world, but I am concentrating in this protagonist right now.

Hi!

For weather this cold, your character would need a LOT of moisturizing creams. Possibly a comical amount. They would help to protect the skin from both the wind and cold. Burn scars don't have the natural oils, so his skin would be very dry normally, let alone during the winter. Even in normal temperatures, it's recommended to apply moisture multiple times a day. If something like sunscreen is available to your character, he would use it too (and often). Burns are sensitive to the sun, and some people use it even when it's cloudy. During the winter it's also commonly used because the snow reflects it. (As you said, I'm very much not a historian and I don't know what would work as non-modern equivalents... I assume that shea butter or olive oils could be on the table here? Certainly better than nothing. Or even just Magical Herb Mixture, if it's fantasy.)

As for the eye protection, I would say that most people in 20ºF to 10ºF (-6ºC to -12ºC) would need it, especially if it's both snowing and windy lol. I have experienced those temperatures and it can be hard to see even without extremely sensitive skin/eyes. But generally yes, harsh wind could be actively painful to someone with a burn scar. If it's too hard on him, he could wear some very loose cloth to cover it (prime example of a scenario where a face covering makes medical and just logical sense). It shouldn't be tight; maybe just a large hood or veil that would still be away from that part of their face.

Note: it could also not be painful at all. Burns come with nerve damage, and sometimes nerves make non-painful stimuli hurt really bad, and sometimes they make it so a person doesn't feel pain when they should. If your character is the second, they would bear it better at the time but still have all the other issues - skin breakdown, contraction, cracking, itching.

Not sure what other kind of eye protection would be available, but even regular glasses would help with the "not getting blasted with wind and snow" part. Make sure that with the protection he wears, it doesn't touch the scar directly. That can be extremely painful and cause skin to break in that kind of environment, especially if he's not a regular at the Snowy Mountain. If they are, they will handle it much better - scars get more or less desensitized with repetitive exposure.

For a helmet, I think having it padded from the inside would be a good idea. Preferably with something relatively smooth (maybe cloth or fur?) so that it doesn't scratch the burn. Potentially something to "stabilize" it (maybe their helmet could be custom-made for their exact head size?) so that it doesn't hit his scar over and over too if it's too large. I appreciate that others characters wear helmets too, and that he does for only a minor part of the story :-) (smile emoji))

The backstory scenario sounds fine to me as well! House pet trying to play and causing an injury is definitely a thing when it comes to facial differences haha. I can imagine that it would be even more common if the pet in question is a dragon and not a regular dog.

Having multiple burn survivors in a world with fire-breathing creatures that live in human homes is a nice element of worldbuilding :) (smile emoji)! I think that if this kind of thing happens often, then some of the resources I mentioned (moisturizes, sunblock) would be more readily available for your main character and people in similar sets of circumstances.

Thank you for your ask, I hope it helped a bit!

Mod Sasza

[pokemonshelterstories]

OH MY GOSH THANK YOU SO MUCH! YES IT IS NECESSARY TO TRAIN YOUR POKEMON AND/OR LET THE VETS KNOW TO SEDATE THEM BEFORE TREATMENT!!! I'm a nurse and I have gotten several injuries from unruly pokemon that people have refused to train. My most recent was a litten that scratched my face and burned my arm. The scratch got infected and I've been out on medical leave for a few weeks, which also means I AM NOT GETTING PAID!! So much entitlement from trainers who assume their "little buddies" can do no harm

yeah, we've had way too many pokemon surrendered to us because they weren't trained well and the owners couldn't handle them anymore, and we often aren't warned ahead of time on intake. i was bit by several pokemon during intake exams/behavioral exams just last year- one of them being a houndour whose bite scar still hurts. these pokemon are really hard to adopt out, considering most of our customers are looking for pets and aren't ready to take in a pokemon that could use a trainer with a couple of gym badges under their belt. besides that, our veterinary team is really busy taking care of sick and injures surrenders and wildlife rehab cases, and if we have to pull them in to sedate an intake exam, that takes their time away from our pokemon that need veterinary intervention.

the worst case i've ever seen of this at the shelter was a stunky so poorly-trained and stressed that it would hiss and spray at anyone who came near it, so you had to wear a respirator to approach it. we ended up having to do a behavioral euthanasia because we literally could not safely approach this pokemon, and it was so stressed that it was refusing to eat.

i'm really sorry to hear you got hurt. i hope you were at least able to make a case to your management to not allow that pokemon in for treatment unballed.

[captainkirkk]

I just found the 'Identity Shenanigans' tag is not a common tag despite 20 pages of fics. Have you found any tags that reaaaaalllly should be common tags?

Yes, so many! Tags that either aren't as widely known/tagged as much they should be considering how well-used they are. Or popular tags that I find aren't specific enough. Or tropes I just personally love and wish were used more often. Off the top of my head:

"Age reveal" has LESS THAN A PAGE of fics on ao3, which is bonkers to me. I love the 'character is revealed to be Baby' trope so much (when it's done well, ofc)

"Pampering" - I have always been very loud about how much I love this trope. We see it in fics sometimes, but it's rarely tagged or gets glomped into "comfort""

"Power reversal" - We have the vague "power dynamics" tag but it's usually full of fics about people of authority taking advance of others. I'm interested in the reverse - people of power choosing to (temporarily or even permanently) give up their power to someone they explicitly trust. Kings serving their sick servants. Generals taking orders from their soldiers because they're too injured to lead. Overwhelmed leaders finding joy in suddenly having no responsibilities. Platonically/romantically/sexually this is a fun trope to explore.

"Hiding injuries" only has 7 pages of fics on ao3."Hiding medical issues" has 1.6k fics on ao3 which is great, but I find limiting sometimes. (Although, does an injury count as a medical issue? It requires medical attention, but I always assumed "medical issues" referred to illness/chronic disease/etc.) And "character concealing something painful" is one of my favourite tropes, but it's not always something MEDICAL that they're hiding. Characters can hide abuse, neglect, bullying, assault, manipulation, magical curses, etc. I wish there was a more specific tag for this but it's one of my favourite things and I want to search for it

[imagines-books]

Game Anger-Jack Hughes

Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Summary: In which Jack has a bad game and takes out that anger on his girlfriend.

Tonight Jack had a game against the LA Kings and he had begged me to go as he just returned from his injury, and I was finally moved in with him fully. I had not been to many of his games as just until a few weeks ago I was attending college at Boston University, but my program had ended and I was now an interior designer. I had gotten an amazing job in Newark and I was so happy. I got to be with my boyfriend after two years of long distance. So now that I was in Newark and had gotten comfortable with my new job Jack was begging me to go to his game.

I agreed knowing it meant a lot to him if I was there, and told him from now on I would be going to as many games as I could. Jack and I were laying in bed after waking up from his pre game nap. My head was on his chest and his arms were wrapped around me, I looked up at him and asked"What should I wear". "Nothing" he responded. I hit his chest and he laughed and said "Wear whatever you want, preferably something red. I would give you a jersey but I don't have one". I nodded my head and got out of bed to go shower. I heard Jack groan from the bed and yell "I have to go to the rink, I'll see you at the game. Your ticket is next to some of the guys friends that come to the games. I love you". "I love you too" I yelled back through the bathroom door.

After I showered and dried my hair I started to get dressed and found the perfect outfit. A red corset top with jeans and an off the shoulder black zip up hoddie that Jack had custom made so that his number was on the back along with the name Hughes. I put some natural makeup on and put some beach waves in my hair. I looked hot and loved it. I grabbed my phone and wallet then made my way out the door. I got to the arena and went to where Jack told me to park my car, showed the guard the pass Jack gave me. I got a weird look from the guard but ignored it. I parked my car then made my way into the arena got a drink then made my way to my seat.

It took me a while to find it as I had only been in this place a few times and each of those times I had been with Ellen and Jim, so you could say that now because I am by myself I was completely lost. I looked like an idiot just wondering around trying to find the section on where my seat was. "Hey" I heard someone shout from behind me. I turned my head and saw two girls who looked to be a bit older than me but not by much. "I saw your jacket and I know they don't sell those anywhere, so we had a feeling you were the girl Jack told us would be sitting next to us" the one on the left said. "Gosh how rude of us I'm Lexi, and the one who shouted your name is Nora. We hope you're Aurora or we just made a fool out of ourselves".

I smiled and said "It's nice to meet you guys, and yes I am Aurora. I would assume your the two Jack told me I would be sitting next to tonight". They both nodded their heads and smiled "I'm so glad you guys found me because I was unbelievably lost and was about to give up" I said. The laughed and Nora grabbed my hand and we started walking to where I assumed our seats were. I was not paying attention to where we were going and so when Nora stopped I ran into her. "Here we are" Lexi said. I looked and saw we had seats right next to the devils bench right on the glass. "Wow" I said. Nora smiled and said "our boyfriends only get us the best". Nora gave her a look and said "You know the only reason we have the seats is so they can keep an eye on us during the game to make sure we are ok and safe".

I looked at them and said "that's what happens when you have an overprotective boyfriend". The laughed "I can tell we are going to like you" Nora said. I smiled and we all sat down and just started to get to know each other. I found out they were both 26 which meant they were both five years older than me. I didn't care though they were nice and I could tell we were going to be great friends. I finally asked who there boyfriends were on the team, but found out they weren't dating anyone and that there brothers were the ones that were on the team and got them the tickets.

Our conversation got paused when the horn sounded and the devils skated out for warm ups. They all had smiles on their faces and I saw Luke and Jack standing next to each other just talking. Luke pointed towards where we were sitting and Jack started to skate over. He got to the glass and gave me a big smile and held up his hand in a turn around motion. I knew he wanted to see the back of my jacket so I did as he asked and turned around to show him the back of my jacket. Once I turned back to face him he had a big grin on his face. I rolled my eyes at him but smiled nonetheless. I put my hand on the glass and he did the same and I mouthed "I love you" he smiled and mouthed back "I love you so much more".

He then turned and got a puck on his stick and tossed it over the glass and I caught it. He winked at me then skated away. I sat back down looking at the puck and Nora said "you guys are so cute". That made me blush. I looked next to us and saw a little boy that had a Hughes jersey on and I looked at the puck in my hands then turned to the boy and said "hey I couldn't help but notice your jersey, and this puck in my hand the Jack Hughes gave me. How would you like to have it". The boy just started at me and his dad spoke up and said "what do you say buddy" then boy took the puck and said "thank you so much miss". I smiled and nodded at them then turned back to look for Jack on the ice and saw him smiling at what I did for the little boy.

The game started and was going fine so far just a normal game, score 0 - 0 then the kings scored. It was only the first period so I was not too worried. It was getting toward the end of the second period and then the devils scored. I jumped out of my seat clapping and cheering as they skated to the bench celebrating. It was getting closer to the end of the second period and Jack got pushed into the boards and then got into a fight with some dude from the kings. The refs broke them up and Jack tried to go after the guy again, and that's when they both got a penalty. Jack skated to the box still yelling at the other guy and still very frustrated. I looked at him in the box and he just looked so pissed off. I decided after the game I would ask him what had happened.

Jacks penalty was over and he came out of the box at full speed and got the puck skating to the kings net he got a shot and some guy came behind him and pushed him with his stick so Jack missed the goal. He then got a rebound and shot again but missed the goal and I could tell by the look on his face that something was not right. He was standing off to the side expecting the ref to call a penalty but he never did. Jack then had enough so he started skating back to the bench and on his way hit his stick against the glass out of anger. Then when he got to the bench hit his stick on the boards and then it broke and he chucked it on to the ice. The kings bench started yelling at the refs on how it should have been a penalty but they never saw it so it was not called.

The rest of the game did not go in the devils favor they ended up loosing 2 - 1 and I knew that Jack was not going to be in a good mood. I said my goodbyes to Nora and Lexi and then walked to my car deciding to go home and make him some pasta Alfredo with my homemade garlic bread. It was his favorite and I loved cooking it for him. I knew he would be a bit behind me because I knew he was going to get interviewed even if he didn't want to. Once I made dinner I plated it and put his bowl on the counter and then sat in the seat next to that.

About five minutes later Jack walked in the door and he looked upset and mad. "Hey" I said. He didn't say anything back and I knew it was because he was upset. "I made your favorite if your hungry" I tried again to get him to respond to me but nothing. I didn't want to keep pestering him so I just let it be. "Do you want me to put it in the fridge and you can have it later" I asked him. He finally looked at me and said "can you just leave me alone! I'm not hungry! I just need some space and you are not making that easy! Just leave me alone for once and stop being clingy!" He said as he blew up at me. I just looked at him with tears in my eyes. He knew that I hated being yelled at after my home life and how I grew up. I knew he was upset but he didn't have to take it out on me.

I just looked at him as tears started rolling down my face. He took it too far when he said I was being clingy, he knew that I only cared about him and babied him at times like this because no one cared for me growing up and I just cared so much so that I would see the same in return. "Fine whatever, you can sleep on the couch tonight if you don't want to deal with me because I'm too clingy". I said with tears running down my face. He then finally realized what he said and tried to reach out to me but I turned around and ran to our room with him right behind me. I beat him there and slammed the door in his face and locked it.

"Baby I'm sorry you know I didn't mean it. Please open the door let me hug you I'm sorry. I had a bad game and I took it out on you, I'm sorry. Please open the door Rory". He said begging while knocking on the door. I ignored him and just fell against the door crying. "Baby please let me in you're going to have a panic attack if you don't calm down. Please let me in, let me comfort you". He tried again. I walked to the bed ignoring his request and played down with my head in the pillows still crying. I heard him keep knocking and trying to get in the door when I heard the door bust open and Jack came running in.

He gathered me in his arms leaning against the head board with me curled up in his lap. "Shhh, it's ok, I'm right here". He said as one of his hands rubbed my back and the other one help my head to his chest. "You've got to calm down for me ok? Breathe, listen to my breathing and copy me". I nodded my head at his request and copied his breathing and I finally started to calm down. Once I was calm he hugged me to him tight as I tried to get away from him. "I'm so sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean any of what I said ok. I let my anger get the best of me and I took it out on you" he said as he kept hugging me. "I'll make it up to you in any way I can, you just name it". I nodded into his chest just wanting to go to sleep.

I fell asleep on his chest and woke up the next morning alone. So I walked out into the kitchen and saw a big bouquet of red roses on the counter, with a bag of pink starbursts, and a card. Then I looked in the kitchen and saw Jack cooking what looked like waffles. There was already a plate with two waffles with whip cream, fruit, and some syrup on the side, along with a chai latte from Starbucks right next to it. I looked up at him and he said "this is just the start of me saying I'm sorry for last night. You are going to get pampered all day by me, and I will do anything you ask" he said. I walked over to him and wrapped him into a hug and he hugged me right back. "Jacky I forgive you, I know you had a bad day yesterday and I know that's no excuse for what you said, but I can tell you are unbelievably sorry for what happened. And just that makes me forgive you. You are the best boyfriend I could ask for thank you for doing all of this for me".

Jack kissed me on the top of my head over and over as he swayed us back and forth in the kitchen. "I love you so much, and I don't deserve your forgiveness but I'm thankful for it. I will be spending the rest of my life loving you and caring for you. I love you so much and will forever apologize for what happened last night, and I can promise you it won't happen again" he said. I kissed his chest and we just stayed in each other's arms all day while he pampered me, and told me every five minutes that he loved me and that he was sorry. I was so grateful for him and all he did for me.