#bo fly was probably right

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

Look it's Monday. Don't trigger my extra large inadequacy

Yes IRL they all said it was quite large.

*shrugs*

Since when have I listened to anything except myself.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” you utter with each step, the pinch of Floyd’s-- Lloyd’s hand digging into your neck.

“Shut up,” he growls as he as good as drags you.

You walk on your toes, scurrying to keep up. You cling to his wrist to keep your balance as the witnesses turn their heads away. What the heck? What is going on? No one’s going to help you?

“Get in,” he opens a car door and push you so you nearly ding your head on the side.

You catch yourself on the metal and carefully duck down, only for him to shove on your head and slam the door. You compress yourself in the seat as he stomps around the hood. Jeez, that sort of anger isn’t good for you.

He drops into the driver’s side and hits the steering wheel, his anger brimming through flared nostrils. You watch him nervously, waiting for him to explode. It’s like you can see the fuse burning, getting shorter and shorter as he tries to calm himself.

“I’m done talking,” he snarls and sits back heavily. He pulls at his belt buckle as he lifts himself above the seat. “You’re going to use that mouth for something good. I don’t wanna hear another word.”

He pushes his fly open as the buckle tinks and you cringe as he shoves down the elastic of his sleek leopard print briefs. Wow, very 70s of him. He rolls the fabric down his thighs as his dick springs free and you put your hand over your lips, hiding a smile as you snort.

He lowers himself and snarls over at you, “are you laughing?”

“N-no. Well, yes, but I just think... they kinda look funny, don’t they?” You poke your finger up to mimic his hard length. “Boing.”

“What is wrong with you?” He sneers. “How many have you even seen?”

“You know, I’ve been on the internet. I’m a child of the digital age so... probably too many.”

“Jesus, shut the fuck up,” he grabs the back of your head and jerks you towards him, “look, sweet lips, do yourself a favour and stop resisting.”

“Um, favour?” You reach out to grab the steering wheel, fighting to stay away from his lap, “I... I got dry mouth. I can’t--”

“Just open up,” he grunts, shoving on you. He’s strong.

Your arm bends and you collapse onto him, headbutting his dick as you do. You shake your head as you raise it and he suppresses a whimper. He fists your hair and pulls you up, jarring your head back violently.

“Fuck off,” he grits out, “open your damn mouth. And no teeth.”

“Look, I really am not in that kinda mood--”

“I’m about to break your teeth, cupcake. Are you gonna keep arguing?”

You blink at him and weigh a life time of smoothies and broth. His eyes narrow and you gulp. You squeeze your lips tight and try to dip your chin down. He slackens his grip just enough for you to make eye contact with his tip.

Whew, okay, right, you’ve seen some things on The Hub. It can’t be that hard. Figuratively. Literally, it does look pretty hard.

You shudder and suck in a breath. Well, here goes nothing. This isn’t really how you saw your first-time but nothing’s really gone to plan, has it?

You lick your lips and open your mouth as you bring your hand around to grip him. Thick, you think. Looks and feels like it. But the skin, so smooth. You didn’t expect that. You face down the great dragon, throbbing up at you, you will vanquish your foe.

You lower yourself down and hover your lips above his swollen head. You stick your tongue off and flick it around his tip. He twitches and lets out a hiss. You try not to laugh. So sensitive. You press your lips around him and continue to swirl your tongue. You’re not super sure of what you’re doing but it feels right, even though the circumstance is very wrong.

You stretch your lips around him until your jaw aches. He’s gotta be big. Thinking about it, maybe thinking too much, he’s a lot like the men you see in your incognito searches. You’re no prude, you just haven’t found the right person. He’s definitely not the one but well... let’s not think about that.

You ease onto him, feeling him quiver as his breaths puff out slow and long. You take him deeper and deeper, pausing as he grazes the back of your throat. You inhale through your nostrils and try to rear back. He keeps a hold on you, urging you down.

Your throat strains around him as he forces his dick deeper. You nearly gag, your foot kicking the interior. You’re bent over the console, half-twisted, your shoulder bearing too much pressure for comfort. Your eyes water as you find yourself suffocated with his intrusion.

He holds you there until your quaking. He lets up and you pull off of him, coughing and hacking. He chuckles and releases your hair, petting your head.

“Go on.”

You close your eyes and tremble as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, the other still circled around him. You pump then put your lips around his tip. You flick your tongue around and around, taking him in gradually. You reach your limit then back up, dragging your hand in tandem with your mouth.

A saltiness spreads over your tongue and you press it along his base. He growls and his hand spreads across your crown. He leans back into the seat, extending his legs as far as they’ll go in the cramped space. You hear the leather of the steering wheel creak as he grips it tight as you pick up the pace. Hopefully if you go fast, it will be over soon.

“Slow-- sweet lips, hold up,” he rasps, “slow--” He yanks you off of him and hisses, slamming an open hand on the horn as he spasm and curses, “fuck! I said slow--” He lets go of you and contorts as he cradles his sack and squeezes his dick tight, a gush bursting from the tip, stringing down his knuckles and onto his pants. Those look expensive. “What the fuck? You went too fast.”

“I... I didn’t mean to. I just... I did my best,” you stick out your tongue and wipe it on your sleeve, “I never did that before so... my bad.”

He gapes at you then his eyes drift through the windshield. He shoots a passerby the finger as his little honk drew the attention of curious eyes. He growls and opens his hand, examining the sliminess across it.

“You made this mess,” he snarls, “better clean it up.”

Your brow creases and you shake your head, “you got kleenex?”

“With your goddamn mouth,” he barks and sits back. “Hurry up.”

You keep from looking out the window as humiliation seeps in. The realisation that a very private moment is on display makes you nauseous. You bend over his lap again, once more taking him in your hand.

“Good girl,” he purrs as your lips touch his skin, “gotta say, those hands are a lot quicker than that head.”

[iliketangerines]

I saw the liu kang dragon post but I also saw the ask said electric eel Raiden and I thought that was a good idea..maybe electric eel Raiden with a reader who’s like from a nearby village and they meet and become friends which slowly leads to a relationship and then maybe Raiden asks the reader if she would be comfortable carrying his eggs.

sparks flying

a/n: kept it as fluff because this felt like a fluffy piece

pairing: electric eel!raiden x gn!reader

warnings: none :)

you head into the nearby forests, intent on sitting down and reading a book you had been meaning to catch up on

Madam Bo had finally given you a break, and so you decided to take advantage of the good weather and follow a river into the forest

you walk along the running water, enjoying the sun making dappled shadows along the forest floor, and you hum a small tune to yourself as you walk

the stream widens into a long slow-moving river, and you peer into the murky water deciding to park here and read your book and eat your lunch

you open up your basket and pull out the picnic blanket, laying it down near the water and smoothing out the crinkles before pulling out some food that Madam Bo had graciously cooked for you

you eat slowly, enjoying the sounds of the forest and swatting away the occasional fly, and you close your eyes to listen to the rush of the river

when you open your eyes, you see someone in the river staring at you, only his eyes breaching the surface of the water

you don’t know much about swimming, but you figure that swimming in rivers, no matter how slow-moving, can’t be safe

you shout at the man to get out the water, that it isn’t safe to swim in the rivers

he just cocks his head curiously and then he dips underneath the water, and you rush to the edge, trying to look for the man that had disappeared into the water

suddenly, the river seems a lot more faster than before, and he doesn’t seem to be reappearing

you wonder if he had been swept away by the current, and you look downstream to see if you can see a bobbing body

there is none, and you’re starting to panic, wondering if you just watched someone die in front of you, when a head pops up right in front of you

you squeak and fall backward, scrambling a bit backwards as the man’s head fully pops out of the water to stare at you

he seems unbothered by the water as it splashes at him, and you stare at him as he stares right back at you

neither of you say a word to each other until you finally break the silence saying that you thought that he had died when he disappeared underneath the waves

he gives you a soft smile and apologizes for scaring you, his voice sweet and low, and your heart pounds in your chest

probably still filled with adrenaline from being jump-scared, and you wave off the feeling in your chest as you compose yourself

you tell the man that he should probably get out of the river, it isn’t safe to swim there, but he just tilts his head and says that he’ll be fine, he does this everyday

you cock your eyebrow at him, asking him if he’s from Fengjian, suddenly struck with the thought that you have never seen him before

Fengjian was small, and yet you had never seen him around

he just smiles and says he’s from around here, and you squint your eyes at him, accepting the answer: there were a few villages near Fengjian but still a little far away from this little spot

still, what the man did with his personal business was none of yours, and so you sat back and let out a sigh and went back to eating your lunch

yet, he was still there, head popped up over the water and watching you eat your lunch with fascination, and the words leave your mouth before you can even process them

you ask him if wants to share you lunch with you, that you had packed too much anyway, and the man perks up a little bit, tilting his head to the side a bit before agreeing

really, why did you ask this question, yeah you had packed a little extra but that was for later snacking

okay, so maybe you did have a little crush on him because as he popped his shoulders out of the water, and you got a good look at him, your heart thumped in your chest

broad shoulders, a defined chest, and long hair that cascaded down his back, almost ethereal looking even though he was soaked in water

you hand over a plate of your food, and you watch him prod at the food, almost as in fascination, like he had never had it before

a little curious, you ask what’s his favorite food, and he takes a second to answer, contemplating his words, before saying his favorite was fish

fish, perhaps you’d cook it for him

wait, you’ve just met this man, and you’re cooking for him?

one look at a man, and you’re already down bad

you shake the thoughts from your head and watch him start to eat your food, his eyes widening in wonder at the food, and he eats it enthusiastically

soon, the food is gone from your plate, and he looks up at you, eyes begging you for more

you can’t help but laugh a little at how cute he looks, with those large sparkling eyes and slight pout, and you say that you have a little more

the rest of your afternoon is spent sharing snacks with the strange man, he refuses to come out of the river, only his shoulders and broad chest being seen by you

but he’s a little strange, perhaps a little off-putting with how formal he talks, but it’s almost a little charming in juxtaposition with his adorable he is

soon the sun dips low on the horizon, and you pack your belongings, including the book you said that you would read

he asks if he’ll see you again, and you pause, unsure of when you’ll get another off day from Madam Bo

you say that you will, hopefully soon, but you can’t promise

and then you ask if he’s going home, the water can’t be warm, and he just laughs like he knows some secret and just says he’ll be going home in just a second

you nod slowly and bid him farewell, walking off with a skip in your step

you visit him every week, somehow managing to ask Madam Bo to let you have off every Saturday even though it’s one of the busiest days in the week

every time you bring new foods and snacks, and the man, his name is Raiden you learn, appreciates each and every snack and morsel you bring

the conversation flows so naturally between the two of you, and you learn he travels, has went through a large majority of China and tells you the views he’s seen

you tell him about your mundane life, the entirety of it being spent in Fengjian, and you wonder about Raiden and if he would take you on an adventure with him one day

you wish you could spend longer with him, to doze off in the sun and hold his hand or go through the night market with him, but he never leaves that river

it’s strange, every time you see him, he’s in the river, always swimming, and you wonder why he swims so much

but you suppose he’s training for something, some sort of swimming competition

it’s Saturday again, a few months after you’ve met Raiden, and you head into the forest a little earlier than usual, wanting to set up something nice for you and him

it was a nice spread you had prepared this time, and it had fish in it, hopefully you had cooked it how he liked it

you approach the spot by the river that you usually sit at, hands moving alongside the brush, and you nearly scream at the sight of a large eel covering the bank

it’s larger than any eel you had ever seen, perhaps the biggest one in the world with how its length just kept on stretching and stretching along the length of the bank

you step backward, almost spilling your food as you stumble in the bushes, and the eel twitches in your direction

then the familiar face of Raiden rises, and you pale at how the eel body connects to his torso, how his ribs split apart to look like gills

no wonder he stayed in the water all the time

you both stare at each other for a while, neither of you moving except for the breath in your chests, and finally Raiden breaks the eye contact and dives back into the river

his body follows quickly into the water, and you lunge forward, suddenly not wanting him to leave

you scramble to the edge of the river, placing the basket down with food for the both of you, and you peer down into the murky water

he doesn’t surface, and you sit dejectedly by the edge, berating yourself for not acting earlier

you shouldn’t have looked at him like that, like he was a monster or a freak or or-

he was so kind to you, so warm and gentle and excitable and suddenly the pieces started to fit together on why Raiden acted the way he did

you wait by the edge of the river, waiting for him to pop up again, and eat your lunch slowly, leaving his portion by the side of the river

he never shows, and you leave with a goodbye to the murmuring water

you come back next week and find the food gone, and his head bobbing in the water, looking a little flushed and embarrassed as he sees you

sitting by the water, you’re a bit quiet as he just bobs up and down in the river, looking downcast and much like a sad puppy

he breaks the silence first, saying he’s sorry and that he should’ve been honest with you, that he wasn’t human, and you apologize as well, saying he was a good friend and that you shouldn’t have reacted that way

you’re not sure how to continue the conversation after that, so Raiden raises his body out of the water and lays down on the bank, his eel tail still moving in the water

but now you can see how his torso connects to his tail, and it’s fascinating in a way

your hand reaches out to touch him, and then you flinch back, remembering your manners, and ask him if you can touch him

he blushes and stutters out a yes, and you move your hand towards him slowly, pressing your fingers against his skin gently and feeling how the smooth skin turns into smoother and slimier scales

it’s fascinating, and you keep running your hands back and forth, almost entranced, until a small shock makes you squeak and pull your hand back rapidly

Raiden apologizes, his hands grabbing onto yours as he explains it’s just a natural instinct to shock sometimes, and all you can focus on is his hands holding onto yours

you say it’s okay, and he lets go of your hand hesitantly before asking if he can touch you as well

his hands reach out to your arms, to touch your skin, and you pause for a second, giving your heart a second to calm down before saying he could touch you

he’s slow with his touch as his fingers glide across your skin, up your arm, up your shoulder and up your neck to touch your face

both of his hands cup your face, his thumbs rubbing against your cheeks, and you can’t help but melt into his touch and close your eyes

when you open them again, his face is much closer to you than before, but you don’t flinch away

rather you lean a little closer into him, and you ask if you can kiss him

he gives a small little nod and leans in close, and you close the distance to kiss him

it’s a little inexperienced, but it feels warm and soft and gentle

you press a little deeper into his mouth, and he lets out a squeak and suddenly there’s a small electric spark that makes you yelp and pull back from his touch

he apologizes again, hands coming up to cover his blush, and you laugh a little bit and tell him it’s okay, that it’s pretty cool

he peers at you from behind his fingers, and you give him a little smile

it would be a strange relationship for sure, but you both were sure in for an electrifying time

[louebel]

— [ 𝐑𝐄𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 .ᐟ ]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: g5 luffy × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 1717 wc, spoilers for wano... kinda? sfw, fluff, all fluff. a lil' goofy, plot is kinda w a c k y, kaido almost kills you but not in the way you think — and i can't he just looks so silly 'n lovely. i wanna hug him so bad 'n swing him around like a whip. look at him, LOOK. and dripping divider by @ benkeibear !! 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: as the fight continues, you can't help but worry for luffy. you decide to reach him... and you realize it was stupid of you to think he'd be in trouble.

"Luffy!"

Specks of dust littered everywhere. Debris replaced what were once massive boulders, crumbling beneath the force of one of the Emperors of the Sea and the man who would one day become the King of Pirates; your captain.

Your eyes widened at just how battered the top of Onigashima was. You shouldn't expect any less from them, but it still baffled you. They were so unbelievably strong. So strong you couldn't help but be worried.

You believed in Luffy, of course, you did. But when fighting such monsters... even he could have a hard time. So you made it your job to reach the top floor and get to him, the same medicine Zoro was infused with resting in your hands (you stole it) — it was no easy task and probably the dumbest thing you could ever think of, but somehow, you managed to do it. Surprise overtook you before as guards were taken out by a surge of haki coming from above; one that managed to shake you too. It was tremendous. You felt a little light-headed from it, but thankfully you handled it well.

As tremendous as it was, you could tell who it was from. It wasn't from Kaido, no. Some of the shockwaves you felt before had violence, brutality, and bloodthirsty intent oozing from them. This one, however, was very different; almost... warm.

Then, you reached the top. And here you are.

Other than the landscape, the air around you was rather chilly. Distinct from inside, another dimension altogether. Too cold, somehow refreshing. A shudder traveled down your spine, goosebumps all over your skin. The moon above was lustrous, the sky limpid and not as bleak as before. You felt at peace.

Which was weird considering...

"OOOOH!"

There was a dragon coming right towards you.

"... H—huh?"

Jaw slackened, eyes widening — your expression morphed from concerned to straight-up comical in less than a second. There was Kaido, in all of his glory, flying in your direction at probably a thousand kilometres per second and you remained still, not even running because whether you did sprint away from him or not the outcome was still the same. Death.

That one time you do something dumb you regret it. How could you possibly dodge that gargantuan lizard? You were an ant compared to him — wait, were you dreaming or he looked as shocked as you? — you were done for.

"AAAAAAAH!!"

Screams tore from both of your lungs in unison. Then, the ground beneath you turned... malleable, making you lose your balance and fall — the long blue dragon right above you crashing in a nearby pillar, pebbles and rocks scattering like fireworks. You, on the other hand, were sent in the air thanks to the elastic pavement.

Boing, boing, boing.

Perhaps luck was on your side... strangely enough. The floor felt oddly comfortable; soft yet stiff, the texture not at all feeling like dirt and rocks. Groaning, you pushed yourself up, shaking your pulsing head, the ache faintly going away.

"Heeeeey!"

Then, a call; one that made you snap your neck with how swiftly you looked up. Not just a sound. It's him.

Your pupils dilated at the sight — he was so... different. And yet, it was still him.

"Oh? Oooh? Is that you? It's you! It's you!"

How sweet his voice,

"It's youu~ it, is, you!"

how warm his presence,

"Look at me, look at me! Heeeey! Look at me!"

how lovely he himself.

"Ah..."

"Shishishi! You're looking!"

Your heart might've stopped at that moment. Did he know? He seemed to know. Grinning, laughing, ah, he's coming closer and closer. Luffy, Luffy...

The little mantra in your head replayed in your mouth, his name slipping out unconsciously — the corners of his lips curving up; broad, glowing, and so so familiar, so comforting. His hair seemed velvetlike to the touch... Perhaps it resembled rubber? No, marshmallows. He was a big marshmallow right now. Was he even real?

"Yeah! That's me! It's me!" twirling, bouncing, flailing around; he did not stop at all. Oh, no, he didn't — not until he saw you laugh. Not until he heard that precious sound. He had to do it now that you were here. You were worried, weren't you? He could tell. That slight inclination of your brows — He had to ease you!

There was nothing to worry about.

... If only he knew you were just analysing him with extreme concentration.

"See? See?"

He spread wider and wider, his arms suddenly changing course and going straight towards you — at the speed of light. He's so, so energetic for no reason. But he always was, wasn't he? And you've always loved it.

"Luffy..."

You wanted to ask what happened to him. How he felt, how he was, what he was, what was going on. But nothing left your lips, other than a breathless, inaudible mumble of his name. It made him laugh, and with that same buoyant tone, he shouted yours. You could not help but melt further.

"Yeah! It's me, it's me!"

It's him. Luffy. The tottery wobble of your knees quickly became a full-on quake, you couldn't move, you just couldn't. He seemed to — no, he knew. Your brief struggle, your sudden hypnosis.

At that moment, something, in the back of his mind, called to him,

"Come to me. Please come to me."

And it oddly resembled your voice. It came from his heart. Instinct, perhaps — plain as that. Who was he to not follow it, he who always did? It was alright. You didn't have to move at all. He'll come to you.

"I'm coming there! I'm right there!"

His hands finally grasped your shoulders after he yelled. So precious, so... silly. Yes, it's him. He hurled himself like a rocket, just to briskly stop right before you, his face now smashed against yours. His appearance was so different... so adorable. He will always, and inevitably, be him,

"Luffy."

"Shishishi! Hey! Hello!"

Not even Heaven could compare to him. Nothing could compare to him.

The biggest grin on the planet — his cheeks, faintly pink and so warm under your palms, were crinkled as he showed all the rows of his teeth. Dazzling, rotund vermilion eyes met yours, twinkling moreso at the sight of you. You looked so pretty right now. Did you know? He always thought you looked pretty. But you had something different now, something he couldn't describe with words. Though his tongue wouldn't collaborate, he could tell it was positive. You... you're—

"You look weird!" ironic how he spurted out those words when he's the one that metamorphosed. Even his clothes... once a vibrant red, now a blinding white.

"Ah... it's just — you're..."

"Me?"

Luffy tilted his head, his grin remaining. "You're wonderful, lovely, ethereal," is what you wanted to say if only your voice hadn't failed you, stuck in your throat, struggling to be liberated. A few moments passed, your mouth agape and your captain happily waiting. Then,

"You're..." something came out, "so, so...  beautiful, Luffy. I can't... you know?"

Ah, there it is.

See, he knew! And so, he laughed. And laughed, and laughed, and laughed; boisterous, contagious laughter that never, ever ends, the one you could hear every time you were down, for he would always bolt there where you sat, no matter what. A constant reminder that you were never alone. He will always be with you.

"Hehehe. I do!" chuckles and giggles seeped from his sentences, rending them clipped and broken. So warm, so warm — your chest mimicked his soon enough, sweet laughter bubbling from your throat too, lighting him up. If a fire was in his heart, now there was a whole festival. Your voice was so, so..! You know?

"You, pff, you do?"

"Yeah! Hahaha, I do! I do!"

If anyone were to see you both, they'd probably think you were out of your minds. You could picture it, your friends scolding you both, just to laugh after too. It was, so normal, so simple, yet it made you smile even more, and that caused him to do so too.

And then, then, he couldn't help himself; please forgive him, okay? He really couldn't help it! Those limbs that stretched so far to grab you, were now enveloping you both like a cute little present — hehe, a cute little present! — getting tighter and tighter, but not too much, just perfectly. Torso heaving up and down, his curious, rough yet tender hands coming to rest on your cheeks, his chortles fortissimo as he poked, pressed, squished them; nimble fingers pinching and pulling the skin, making you giggle even more. It did nothing to ease the heat within you, oh no it didn't. There was only more. More, more and more.

Was he greedy? (He was,) Look at you — you were so happy! You're enjoying it! You're laughing! He wanted to see you happy, always. The crew, his friends, you, you...

Maybe he was a little greedy (so greedy.) But for you, he'd gladly be.

"Oh, Lulu... Luffy!"

"Yeah!! Yes! Heheeheh!"

You both managed to pepper each other with some kisses — his giggles so cute and mellow — before the reality of the situation struck you both. The enemy's sluggish roar rang in both of your ears,

"Oi, Strawhat! What the hell are you doing, getting all kissy-kissy with your partner? I thought we were fighting!"

Right. Your captain was supposed to free this country. You both forgot.

"Oh, right! Kaido!" he perked up, untangling himself from you and shifting his attention to the enormous blue reptile, "Sorry, I got distracted. It'll take no time, just watch!" he tenaciously said, though a noticeable pout was on your lover's face.

"Y—yes, Lu... Go kick his ass." you muttered dreamily, a dumb dopey grin on your face, as you watched your boyfriend building a weird-looking cage with the floor to "protect" you before goofily walking up to Kaido, bouncing around in a frenzy like a spring.

All that was left was the show. And boy... did you have fun watching him beat that overgrown reptile up — your cackles fuelling the Warrior of Liberation. Soon, he'll hear the others, too. Soon, everyone's laughter will echo in this land, free from torment. He'll have a big, delicious banquet with you...

And all will certainly rejoice.

[thefrogdalorian]

I know there is this widely held perception that Season 3 of The Mandalorian had silly moments and made some comically strange story choices, which I can totally admit myself. I mean the bit in 03x04 where they all scatter to eat, but Bo is allowed to remain sitting by the fire was kind of hilarious and blatantly just because they wanted a helmetless scene in that episode.

And I won't complain too much because more Katee Sackhoff on my screen is never a bad thing.

But come on! The Mandalorian has always had goofy, unserious moments that if you contemplate for more than a second, your head threatens to fly off because of how daft it can be, at times.

For instance, in 1x04 Sanctuary, when Din removes his helmet on Sorgan in froNT OF AN OPEN WINDOW?!!?!

I know they did it for dramatic effect, to demonstrate how long he has worn his helmet, but if one of those kids looked around it would've been CURTAINS FOR HIM. Okay it might have been dark, sure, whatever but I cannot imagine someone as devout as Din would even take that risk! The Creed is everything to him.

Also, this man who we have seen for an entire season being such a competent and capable warrior has apparently never had a jetpack before Chapter 8. The best bounty hunter in the parsec cannot fly?! Then, immediately after getting it from The Armorer, with no training, he conveniently uses it immediately to blow up a TIE fighter and (seemingly) defeat Moff Gideon?!!?!

Not to mention how silly it is Gideon survived that initial skirmish... and probably survives in Season 3 too but we'll deal with that when it comes to it.

It isn't just Season One, either. There are also some parts of Season 2 which leave me scraching my head slightly, like in The Believer when the terminal needs to scan a face. Not a specific face, just any face. It doesn't make much sense. Again, not complaining, more Pedro Pascal on my screen is never a bad thing.

Not to mention how convenient Din getting the beskar spear was right before his duel with Gideon for the Darksaber. A weapon which is coincidentally one of the few which can parry the sacred blade!

Anyway, I don't hate any of these moments at all, I just feel like fans used to be so much more lenient.

Of course season 3 has some hmmmmm moments too, but there have always been questionable decisions right from the start. Star Wars fans are always going to nitpick and it mostly comes from a good place. I just wish there could be a bit more of a ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ attitude sometimes.

Nothing is perfect, but this show has had so many enjoyable moments and such compelling characters that I can let some silliness slide. Star Wars should always be a little goofy and silly and for me, long may that continue!

[imaginedisish]

Graceland Too (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hi everyone!!! Wowowow am I active this week LOL (fyi this is a re-upload. Decided to proofread one more time bc I uploaded at like 2AM last night). Here is a little sick fic I wrote for my friend who isn’t feeling too great (hope you’re feeling okay <3). The fic is heavily based around “Graceland Too” by Phoebe Bridgers but it is also inspired by “oh baby” by LCD Soundsystem. Highly suggest giving those a listen. Anyway, requests are open. Enjoy!

Summary: You’re terribly sick, but one night and one fever dream might just change everything for you and Din. 

Warnings: SMUT! 18+, Praise kink (imo at least), oral (f!receiving), fingering, reader is sick, Jedi!Reader (it’s like I only know how to write Din x Jedi!readers I stg), idiots/friends to lovers, pining, mentions of death/major violence (canon typical I'd say), cursing, probably some grammar stuff....that’s it I think. 

Word Count: 3,018

The wind is cold as it slices you in half, but you feel overwhelmingly hot, clammy even. Sweat dribbles down your forehead as you tread across the rocks beneath your feet. Blaster shots ring out in the distance.

You struggle to pick up your pace, your boots sticking to the ground as you try to put one foot in front of the other.

“Mando!” You call out, remembering not to use his real name.  Fog covers the ground, filling the air at an excruciatingly quick rate. You’d never be able to find him in this. You call out to him again, but there’s no answer. You’d take a grunt or even a groan at this point.

Then there’s a disembodied, brittle voice coming from behind you.

“Looking for him?” It’s grating, nasally. You’d recognize it anywhere.

You turn around frantically, practically giving yourself whiplash.

“Bo Katan.” Your voice is low, hushed. Din’s body is limp on the ground, being held up on his knees by the woman in front of you. There’s a smirk on her face. She has the darksaber in her hand…

And it’s at Din’s throat.

“Let him go,” You plead. You go to grab your lightsaber, a blaster, something, anything at your utility belt, but there’s nothing there. You have no defense, just your words. “You got what you came for, you have the darksaber.”

She scoffs, shaking her head, her smirk widening. “I haven’t finished the job yet. I still have to kill you and your Mandalorian.”

Your eyes widen with fear, blurring with tears. “No please, please don’t hurt him.” Your voice croaks as you choke back sobs.

“Too late.” She moves the darksaber from his throat, plunging it into his chest with one fatal swoop.

“DIN!” You scream, crashing down to your knees next to him.

“I’m here mesh’la…” He whispers, but it doesn’t sound like he’s next to you, he’s somewhere off in the distance. His husky voice calls out your name.

“I’m right here.” He repeats himself. Your eyes force themselves open as you shove your palms into the bed to push yourself up. You almost hit your head on the top of the bunk in the process, but Din stops you before you can, his cold, gloved hands coming up to your shoulders. “It was just a nightmare.” His voice is honeyed, gentle.

You look to your left to see him standing at your side, armor off, helmet on.

“M’sorry,” You mutter, rubbing your eyes. You feel like absolute shit, worse than yesterday. Your skin is so hot that it threatens to burn a hole in Din’s gloves. You choke down a cough, the sensation vibrating painfully against your already pounding head. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You had been sick for a few days now, and Din was doing everything by himself: the ship’s maintenance, the flying, the hunting, taking care of Grogu, and taking care of you. Now, to make matters worse, you had woken him up. You know he doesn’t get enough rest to begin with. You feel like a burden – and not just in this moment, always. You were a danger to yourself, to Din, to Grogu; a force wielding ex-Jedi, ex-Empire captive wanted by anyone and everyone. And yet, he had let you into his little clan of two with open arms. Now he was here, caring for you. You could’ve gone home, made a place for yourself in the New Republic, continued your Jedi training, but you didn’t.

You met Din. And you felt so, so guilty for the repercussions of your meeting.  

You part your lips, ready to usher him back to bed, to apologize again. But Din doesn’t leave room for you to protest. “Don’t apologize, please.” He shushes you, taking off a glove and pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. You hum lightly under his touch. He feels like ice against your blazingly hot skin.

“Your hand…” You trail off, struggling to speak, “feels good.”

Your hoarse voice sounds like nothing more than a set of incoherent mumblings, but Din seems to understand every syllable. He chuckles shortly and softly, as if the laugh was only meant to be heard by you. “That’s ‘cause you’re warmer now than you were yesterday.” He flips his hand over so that his palm rests against your skin. His forefingers and thumb rub gently at your temples, working tirelessly at your raging headache.

With his free hand, he reaches down for something you can’t quite see. Seconds later he’s holding two pills in front of your face. You immediately take them from him, no questions asked. Whatever it was, you’d take it. This was absolutely unbearable, and the constant fever dreams certainly didn’t help. You swallow the pills with no hesitation, and Din brings a metal cup to your lips.

“Drink,” is all he says, and you do.  You take the cup from his hands, the cold water rushing down your throat, temporarily easing the pain you feel there. Din apprehensively settles his arm on your waist. “This okay?” He asks, a slight shake in his voice. You nod in response, smiling appreciatively.

“Thank you,” You whisper, tilting your head to the side with affection. You swallow harshly, clearing your throat. “You can go back to sleep now if you want. I’ll be okay.”

But Din doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t move at all. He ignores your permission to leave completely. “What dream did you have this time?”

You shudder, remembering what you had seen just moments ago. Din instantly takes account of the look on your face, his grip on your waist tightening, stabilizing you, keeping you tethered to reality – to him.

You draw in a deep breath, practically coughing up your lungs in the process. “Bo Katan, s-she,” You stutter, your eyes shutting tightly in between words. You could still see it. It was ingrained in your brain, burnt into the grooves, sowed in between every empty space. You can still feel her. It was so real. “She had the darksaber and she…” But you can’t finish. Your vision is blurry, your surroundings morphing into an amalgamation of streaks of light and grey metallic colors. You blink and a few cool tears drip down your searing cheeks.

“Hey,” Din coos, his helmet inching closer towards your face, his hands still glued around your waist and atop your forehead. “I’ve got you now. It was just a nightmare. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, mesh’la, nothing.”

You cough out a laugh. “Nothing except a red-haired Mandalorian and whatever this fever is.”

But Din shakes his head. “Not if I can help it.” It isn’t until those words fall from his lips that you realize how close he is to you, how intimate this moment is. His armor is long gone, and you can see the outline of his muscles in his shoulders and arms, his deltoids, his triceps, underneath his flight suit.

“I would…” He trails off, a tremble obviously present in his voice. His confidence has completely disappeared. The vulnerability of the moment makes your head spin faster than it already is. You watch his chest rise and fall, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. You hear him suck in a sharp breath through his vocoder. “I would do anything for you.”

Anything. He would do anything? For you?

Your heart beats rapidly, threatening to combust against your ribs as Din’s hand on your forehead slides down to your cheek. You’ve forgotten your fever at this point, forgotten your headache, your sore throat. All you feel now is Din, his thumb grazing against your cheek, his fingers ghosting along the exposed slit of skin between the hemline of your shirt and the waistline of your shorts.

You want to keep him here, to ask him to hang on to you all night long, but you don’t know if you have the courage to ask. You close your eyes, inhaling through your nose, gathering your words before they spill from your lips. “Would you…” Your voice fades out, evaporating into silence, unable to finish your sentence.

“Anything,” Din’s modulated voice echoes against the walls of the bunk. “Say the word and it’s yours. Whatever you want, cyare.”

Fuck. He really means anything. Whatever you want.

“Would you stay…with me?” It’s a garbled, incomprehensible mess of a question, but as always, Din knows what’s on your mind better than you do.

Din nods immediately. “Of course.” It’s short, but certainly not curt. Those two words say far more than what they mean. “I have to let go of you for just a second, but I’ll be right back, I promise.” Ever the caretaker, Din Djarin. Eternally putting others before himself. It makes your heart pang in your chest, your breath catching in your throat.

He hesitates a moment before finally letting go of you, his hands brushing over your skin for a few extra seconds, stealing time that had already been borrowed. He slips deeper into the hull. You hear him press a few buttons in the distance, and then with a sudden flick, the lights of the hull go out. Darkness fills the room, and you can hear Din shuffling back towards the bunk.

There’s a click and a hiss, and then the sound of metal falling onto metal. Din had taken his helmet off. It wasn’t the first time he had done this. You occasionally found yourself in his bunk, clinging to him for warmth when you were on a particularly cold planet or when the Crest’s heating system had broken down, but it was rare.

“Should you keep it on?” You ask as Din pushes the covers of the bed down. You feel the mattress dip as he slides into the bunk. “I’m still sick, you know.” The last thing you wanted was to make Din feel the way you feel right now. You didn’t want him to get hurt. You had to protect him, too.

You don’t realize how close he is to you until you feel his breath fan across your lips. “No.” It’s a whisper, barely audible. “Wanna make you feel safe.”

“But-,”

He cuts you off. “It’s worth the risk.”

You were worth the risk.

The darkness isn’t so scary when he’s next to you. You close your eyes, listening closely to his unmodulated breaths. His arm snakes up your body, coming to rest around your waist, in the exact spot he was in before.

“Din?” You call out in the darkness. You inch forward a bit, unexpectedly bumping your nose into his. The sudden touch, the proximity, it’s all becoming too much for you to bear.

“Yes, cyare?” His voice is husky, low, rough.

You can’t even remember what it was you were going to ask him. All you can think about is how close he is, how his fingers graze over your stomach, how his breath ghosts over your cheeks, how much you want him to kiss you.

Maker, you want him to kiss you. Would he if you asked him to? Was that under the category of, anything?

“Cyare?” He’s concerned. You can hear it in the way the pet name plays on his lips, hanging around in the air longer than normal.

“I-I,” You stutter. Was now really the time to do this, to confess your feelings to Din? “I don’t know what to say.” It was true, maybe a little too true. “I just, I like you Din.”

He chuckles. Maker, it sounds so much better without his helmet. “I like you too, cyar’ika.” He’s unserious, carefree.

“No,” You mumble. You feel like a child, a padawan once again, not knowing how to communicate or to feel. “Not like that. M-more than that.” You wish you could see the look on his face, to gauge what he was feeling.

Silence takes hold of the bunk. Shit. Too much. Too much too soon. I shouldn’t have-

And then, like always, Din reads your mind. His lips come crashing down onto yours. The kiss is reckless, frenzied, deep. He molds against you, as if he was always meant to fit here. You almost regret not doing something sooner. You think, maybe you’ve wasted valuable time that you could’ve already spent with this side of him. But you know you’ve lived through everything you’ve been through, just to get to this very moment, to feel his lips taking yours, his tongue sliding along your lower lip, seeking permission to explore more of you. You part your mouth, gladly accepting his invitation.

His hand at your waist travels lower, resting along the inside of your thigh. You moan against his lips at the touch. You can feel your wetness growing between your legs, the pulsing of your core. You instinctively try to press your thighs together, searching for some sort of friction, but Din stops you, using his hand to keep your legs spread wide for him.

His fingers tread achingly slow up your inner thigh, teasing you, his nails softly scratching against your exposed skin. Din’s hand finally lands on top of your clothed cunt, his thumb tracing circles into the overly sensitive spot. You’re trembling under his touch as he presses harder into where you need him most.

“S-shit,” You mutter. “Feels s-so good.”

Din swallows harshly. “Wanna taste you, mesh’la. Bet you taste so good.” Desire coats his voice. His hand slips away from your heat and you groan at the loss of contact. He finds the waistline of your shorts, tugging a bit, searching for permission.

“Please, wanna feel you,” You whimper. And that’s all he needs. Din drags your shorts and panties down your legs. You’re not sure where they end up, but you can’t be bothered to care.

Din presses light kisses against your inner thigh, his stubble scratching lightly against your skin, until he finally reaches your core. His tongue begins to explore your folds, pushing through before finally settling on your clit.

“D-Din!” You cry out as he takes the sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking roughly. “Fuck, feels s’good.” Your words slur and your eyes blur as he laps at you.

“Tastes so good, so fucking sweet.” The vibrations of Din’s voice against your clit pushes you closer to the edge. You were already practically there.

He brings a finger to your folds, spreading your slick before sinking deep inside of you. The sensation coaxes a moan from your lips, and Din takes this as a sign to add another finger. He gives you a moment to adjust to him before pulling out and crashing back into you. He’s pushing further inside you as he takes you on his tongue. Nothing else matters, and nothing else will ever be the same.  

“Doing so good for me, sweet girl,” He soothes, his tongue swirling around your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of your entrance. “You sound so pretty when you say my name.”

“Din.” It’s a whisper, a plea. More, please, more. “Don’t stop. Fuck.” His free hand glides under your shirt, pushing your bra up and out of the way. He takes a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching lightly, rolling the nub around before switching to the other. He squeezes softly, luring you closer to your breaking point.

“Taking me so good, being such a good girl,” Din groans. You throw your head back against the pillow. His words alone were enough to drive you mad. “Gonna make you come, gonna give you whatever you want, mesh’la.”

His name rolls off your tongue. You’re unsure of where it starts and where it ends, whispering it over and over again like you’re trying to commit this moment to some eternal memory.

His tongue presses harder into your clit, his fingers pumping faster, deeper inside of you. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You were right there, your walls tightening around Din’s fingers.

“Din I’m gonna-,” But it’s impossible to get the words out. You’re a bleating mess underneath him.

“That’s it, come for me, pretty girl. Wanted this for so long,” His praises, his confessions, send you over the edge, searing heat spreading across every inch of your body. “You’re so beautiful, so perfect for me.” You can feel yourself shattering under his touch, your walls fluttering around him.

“F-fuck Din,” You whimper, riding out your high. Din slowly laps at your swollen clit, his fingers gently pumping in and out of you a few more times before pulling out. You feel empty without them. “N-need more. Need to feel you.” You can’t help but beg. It wasn’t enough. You wanted all of him, needed all of him.  

“Not tonight, cyar’ika,” Din breathes as he finds his way back next to you. “Don’t wanna push you too far. You’re sick, don’t forget. I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, remember?” There’s a faint laugh in his voice, a certain genuine happiness that you can’t wait to hear more of.

“Tomorrow?” You ask, shifting so that your head rests against his chest.

“As long as you’re feeling better…” He trails off for a second, mulling his words over in his head before continuing, “I’ll do anything you want me to.” You know there’s a smile tugging at his lips, you can hear it. It makes your heart flutter in your chest. “Get some rest, okay?”

You nod your head, nestling even further into him. You wrap a leg around his waist, and he follows suit by wrapping his arms around you.

“Goodnight, Din.”

“Goodnight, mesh’la.”

No longer a danger to herself or others

She made up her mind and laced up her shoes…

Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment

Ate a sleeve of saltines on my floor, and I knew then

I would do anything you want me to

I would do anything for you

I would do anything, I would do anything

Whatever you want me to do, I will do

I will do anything (whatever you want)

Whatever she wants (whatever you want)

[choburka]

hiii, ig I'll post some of my headcanons on rddk till I finish my current art ( ◜◡')

I can't tell who would've confessed their feeling first because in my imagination, it's something what happened "accidently":

February 13th, Rody invited Deku in Otheon for his birthday, and now they're about to meet in the airport. Back then, when the ginger asked him if he could come, Izuku said he could've invited some of his classmates as well, so the celebration would've been more exciting and interesting, for Rody as well, but he refused saying he's not much of a party-fan. I think he wouldn't really mind the others to come along, but Deku was the person he truly wanted to see. They're having video-calls once a two weeks. They even fell asleep like this once, but that's different from seeing each other like this.

Izuku missed Rody as well. The time they spent together during the mission was something that helped him to keep on going. Rody was a good listener, even though if he wasn't a really good memory keeper. Deku recounted the complete contents of his notes about heroes and, of course, especially about the All Might, while Rody was sharing stories about his former crime job and some annoying clients from his new job as a waiter. Rody could only wonder how Midoriya never gets tired of listening to him.

(if there are some mistakes in the text, the fly in my room is the one to blame)

Izuku didn't wait for a long time. As he left the plain, he saw the red head waving at him with a familiar smirk and Pino on his shoulder, jumping for joy. She was almost never there during their calls. There was only the sounds of her being rather sad or happy, which appeared very rarely. No wonder Rody didn't let her show up: he couldn't let his dearest friend realize what kind of feelings he had for him.

On their road to Soul's home, it seemed like there was no way for them to stop talking. It started with an awkward silence at first, but whenever Deku starts the conversation, you know it won't be boring. Rody complained about not getting his guft "right now and right here" as a joke, and the green-head promised to hand it the second they'll arrive.

A deep, sensitive, and greating speech — something you probably should expect from Izuku. Rody remained still when listening, while Pino was almost tearing, hiding in his hair.

— ...and I'm glad you keep getting better. I couldn't really think of what you would like to get as a gift, but... here, I hope you will like it!

Midoriya got so nervous that he didn't even notice how he gave Rody a small kiss in a cheek while passing him the gift package. They stared at each other, remaining silent for about a minute, which felt like an eternity. Deku was the first one to realize what had just happened, so he started to apologize as much as he could.

— Woah, Hero, no need to worry. Was that your gift? Or have you just fallen in love with such a perfect dude like me? He-he

Was there any doubt that Rody would say something like this in such a moment? Pino sank even deeper into his hair while pulling it a bit. Such a good thing that it was cold outside, so she had to hide there because of this. Otherwise, the situation would've been even more weird. Suddenly, Deku got this serious expression on his face.

— Well, to be honest, the way I feel about you is kinda... different from the others. It's like more warm and... emotional to me, I guess.

But then Midoriya realized what he just said, so he turned a tiny, shy guy apologizing with bo abilityof stopping again:

— No-no-no, I wasn't supposed to say that! You are still my friend, and it's your birthday, and I didn't mean to, I'm really sorry, I-

You could barely see a slight blush on red heads face

— Wait a moment, so you mean you... like me?

— Oh, maybe, but I just... I hope we can stay friends, you don't have to worry about my feelings, it's nothing that important, really!!

— You know, that little kiss you gave me actually seems like the best gift I could get.

Izuku couldn't really understand if he was being sarcastic or not.

— I-I'm sorry, what do you mean by that? Is it like a joke, or do you mean you liked it?

It was unbelievable how Deku could shift from a deep shame to such straightforward questions. He just stared at Rody with no hesitations, waiting for his answer.

— Gosh, I can't say it like this... Just... Don't look at me like if it's a regular talk or something! — a crumb of annoyance in his tone, seems like his unemotional mask is now off.

— My apologies! But... so you mean you feel somehow alike towards me? — his tone got a bit of shaky while asking this.

— Congrats, you got it, hero, — he mumbled, covering his mouth with a hand.

[ohbo-ohno]

bo, first of all i adore your writing!!

but you've mentioned a few shall we say 'darker themed' books you've read in asks here and there, can you give some recs of your faves?? pretty please??

first of all, i love you! and also yes always, i never mind giving book recs! i sorta ramble under the cut, sorry lol

alright i'll start with the darker romances. these are hard noncon, and depict abusive relationships that aren't always framed as bad. when i say dark i mean dark lmao, always be aware of what you're going itno before you read a dark romance

If you like my fics, I can almost guarantee you'll like Taken by Felicity Brandon. This is about an author who writes dark erotica and gets kidnapped by a fan, who forces her to live out some of her scenes. Includes petplay! I have my issues with the book (and I DNF'd the sequel) but ohhhh the smut is so good

I mentioned them a while back, but Measha Stone's Owned and Protected series is a 6 book series with noncon/dubcon petplay in every single book. Calling these "romance" is a stretch, but god if you like my noncon petplay stuff (and you're alright with reading explicit noncon and forced relationships), you might like these

I haaated the ending of Distorted by Nyla K. but dear fucking god it is a good prison dark romance. Also it is SO Ghoap coded, I would recommend reading the first ~80% of it lmfao

Corrupt Idol by Dinah Harper is the first book in a series that will probably never get finished, but honestly it's pretty good as a standalone. Dark step-brother romance, and I thought the writing (at least in the first half) was so good, I genuinely felt for the FMC at times (even if I was screaming at her)

Ok I'm not confident in this rec because I'm still not suuuuper sure how I feel about this book, but Torment by Dylan Page is a dark step-brother biker romance. The FMC is the MMC's "rock", and the only thing that keeps him from flying off into a violent rage when he's upset, and he develops an unhealthy attachment to her that everyone around them allows because they don't want to deal with him. I never read the second book, but this is another one where you really feel for the FMC

One of my favoriteeee dark A/B/O (specifically the first book) is Born to be Bound by Addison Cane. I would suggest not reading anything past the third book, and I'm not a huuge fan of the side plots, but the stuff with the FMC and MMC is just. God it's the perfect brand of dark A/B/O (in MY head)

I've recommended it before, but for my truly fucked in the head followers - Under His Heel by Adara Wolf is probably the darkest book I've ever read. It's a four book series (and I think the whole thing is worth reading) and it's got every single trigger warning except for (i think) scat, pedophilia, and necrophilia. it has rape, incest that's also rape, extreme body modification (though it's not permanent), severe public humiliation, severe mental torture, and just about 0 aftercare for our MMC. The book follows a man in a far distant future who's working as an indentured servant to pay off his debts & his incredibly sadistic and evil master. These books are far from "for everyone", but if you really want some fucked up romance (with heavy smut) I think these are worth reading!

aaand some softer dark romances. to me, these are books with some lighter kidnapping or soft noncon, abuse in a mental but not physical way, and MMCs who just think they're in the right

Gemma Weir's Montana Mountain Men is like an acid trip and it's kinda crack, but i read all 7 in like a day, so take that as you will. Each book is about a different brother in the same family as they fall in love - except, in this family the men supposedly know who their soulmate is the moment they lay eyes on them. So there's some light kidnapping, some manipulation/unhealthy behavior, and some birth control tampering in these. For what they are, I enjoyed almost all of them lmao

The Darkest Temptation by Danielle Lori is like a kidnapping romance written for non-dark romance readers tbh. It toes the line of noncon/dubcon, and it's definitely a kidnapping romance, but it's really not that dark.

Nicky the Driver by Cate C. Wells is (in my opinion) not as good as the first book in the series, but it's way lighter in terms of darkness level

Shiver by Ella Frank & Brooke Blaine is a stalker romance that fell a little short for me, but was overall enjoyable (iirc lol). It's about a young man who goes into a kink club and attracts the attention of the owner, who then stalks him. I think it just wasn't as dark as I wanted tbh, but if you like lighter dark stuff I think you might like this!

[galaxymagitech]

Robins on a Rooftop

This fic was written for the Batfam Secret Santa 2023 (run by @wait-whos-batman) for @howtokillavampire, and it is...still technically 2023. You can also find it on AO3 here.

Summary: An encounter with the Mad Hatter goes horribly wrong and Tim runs away. Better to quit than to be fired.

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Mind Control. While under mind control, Bruce attacks Tim.

***

The lights are blinding. Tim had wondered why everyone looked so squinty on stage during the Gotham Academy Musical, and now he has his answer. The lights are blinding, except for the Batman’s shadow, which engulfs Tim like a creature from his nightmares. Tim’s going to die on stage and there’s probably something poetic about this, but Tim’s no Jason Todd. He has a B in English right now and he does all his reading on SparkNotes. So, he’s a whole lot less worried about poeticism right now and a whole lot more worried about the burning pain in his ribs (broken or bruised?) and the sluggishly-bleeding cut across his torso and the gauntlets wrapped around his throat.

Tim closes his eyes. His mind is terrifyingly blank, racing to nowhere, lost in fear and confusion. He can’t look. If he looks, he’ll see the white eye-lenses of the cowl and Batman’s mouth curled into a grimace and Tim can’t. He can’t see that right now, not if he wants to live through the next few minutes and prevent Batman from becoming a murderer. His murderer, to be precise.

Going against all his instincts, Tim forces himself to stop trying to peel Batman’s fingers away from his neck. He’s a fourteen-year-old non-meta human; he’s not going to be able to break the Batman’s grasp. It takes all his willpower to make his thrashing legs go still and let his arms fall to the side, but Tim manages. Then, he rotates right shoulder to reach behind him, feeling around desperately.

The thing about Tim is he’s not that great of a fighter. He’s good, sure, but not compared to the other vigilantes stalking Gotham’s rooftops—certainly not compared to the Batman. But he’s a thinker, and that just has to suffice. Tim’s been keeping track of this battle from the beginning. Every move—the way the goons shifted into formations like the cogs of a well-oiled machine, the way Batman joined that machine once the headband was slipped over his cowl, and the way Tim’s bo staff rolled across the floor when Batman brutally disarmed him.

It would be a lie if Tim said he’d led the fight to this point so that he could win. He just got lucky. But considering how unlucky it is that the cowl’s anti-mind-control circuitry was the exact part damaged in the fire Firefly had set, well…Tim thinks he’s owed that luck. And the universe seems to agree, because if Tim’s right—and he usually is—his bo staff should be somewhere right behind him.

Tim’s fingers close around the cool metal of the bo staff and he compresses it, twisting his arm back towards his chest. And then, bracing one end of the bo staff against the floor, he looks straight into Batman’s eyes and extends the staff.

Batman doesn’t go flying across the stage, but he grunts in pain and topples to the side, his grip releasing. Tim coughs, lungs screaming for air as he scrambles away from Batman, bo staff raised in a sloppy defensive position. He’s surrounded by goons and Batman’s making his way to his feet and Tetch is in the front row seat, sipping calmly from his teacup.

Tim can’t escape from Batman, but he doesn’t need to escape. He just needs a few seconds. Tetch’s eyes go wide as the cup pauses just before his lips, but it’s too late for the Mad Hatter. Launching himself off the stage, Tim somersaults and lands right in front of Tetch. In a single, fluid motion, Tim swipes the hat from the Mad Hatter’s head. And the jolt of electricity that strikes him a moment later from Tetch’s taser, well—that doesn’t really matter.

The goons freeze, before collapsing to the ground. Tim sees the moment Bruce returns to himself, the way the man’s posture switches from aggressive to guarded, with only the slightest hint of confusion. The Mad Hatter begins to flee as Tim struggles to his feet, muscles burning and twitching from the electric shock.

“Robin, are you—”

The lights are no longer on the stage, they’re shining directly on Tim. The Mad Hatter must’ve made it to the lighting box area at the back of the audience. But why isn’t he fleeing? Tim doesn’t get it. He raises a shaking arm to shield his eyes, grimacing.

And then Bruce’s eyes fall on Tim and the bright lighting is the least of Tim’s problems. Tim can feel the weight of Bruce’s gaze, heavy as a lead uniform weighing down his entire being. He knows Bruce is cataloguing injuries. He knows Bruce is comparing them to what he observed in the fight before he fell under mind control. He knows what Bruce is thinking. But when Tim tries to speak, the words catch in his throat like barbed wire and he coughs and coughs and coughs. By the time Tim’s throat is no longer burning, the stage is empty.

Stumbling forwards, Tim struggles up the nearest aisle, clutching the railing. When he makes it to the lighting box, he sees it’s empty. Throwing open the exit doors, Tim steps into the theater’s lobby. And there he sees Batman hunched over Tetch, his fists pounding into the Rogue’s face again and again and again—

Tim rushes towards his mentor, boots pounding even on the lobby’s carpeted floor. “Stop,” he says, and it comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Stop, just stop, just—” He pushes weakly at Batman’s shoulder, but of course the man doesn’t budge. Tim doesn’t know what to do. He can’t hit Batman and he’s too weak to pull him off and he can’t shout and it’s like Bruce is in his own world. It’s like Tim isn’t even there for him. Just Bruce and the Mad Hatter and failure.

Tim’s supposed to be better than this.

Tim’s supposed to keep Batman from falling over the edge.

Tim’s supposed to be Robin.

But, he thinks as Nightwing crashes in through the second story window, I was never a real Robin, was I?

***

It’s close to 5 am, but Tim doesn’t feel it. Only Friday patrols last this late—by now, he should be asleep in bed, under several layers of warm blankets. Instead, though, he perches on the edge of his chair, a mechanical pencil clutched tightly in his fingers. He’s holding it wrong, but that’s not the point. Pencil is erasable. It’s not the proper writing implement for a permanent resignation letter. Now that he’s drafted his letter, delayed as long he could, all that’s left is to write it for real.

It takes an effort to put the pencil down and pick up a ballpoint pen. And then, carefully, neatly, Tim copies his words onto a crisp, white sheet of paper. He tries not to let his hands tremble. He lets himself get distracted by how the wet ink shimmers in the lamplight, but only for a moment. When the letter is finished, Tim sets down the pen and lets out a long breath, feeling the air fade away through his half-open mouth.

Tim should be tired, but he’s not. And he’s certainly not excited either. And he’s not scared, he’s not. If Tim tries, he can still feel the pressure crushing his windpipe. And that’s terrifying, so Tim doesn’t try. Instead, he just feels detached, separated from the world, a second out of phase.

It’s fine now, Tim reassures himself. Tetch has been dealt with—brutally. Which is the real problem.

Tetch survived, but he’s been sent to the hospital, not Arkham. In the end, Nightwing had to pull Batman off of the Mad Hatter. It’s Tim’s fault. He was supposed to make Batman better, and maybe he helped in the very beginning, but all he’s doing right now is making things worse. Tim doesn’t know if he was just an excuse or if Bruce really was that angry over being mind-controlled into attacking Tim. But either way, if Tim wasn’t present to be hurt, Bruce wouldn’t have nearly lost control.

There’s an obvious solution there. And Tim tries to be a logical person, so when he sees a logical solution, he takes it.

He also takes the Robin suit, partially because he figures it’s safer to be out as Robin right now than a random (admittedly short) fourteen-year-old in rich people clothes. Tim will return it, eventually, but since he also kind of needs to do some break-ins (physical records are a pain and Gotham CPP is too messy to have converted fully to digital), he figures it’ll still be useful.

And it’s not—it’s not like Tim was going to last much longer as Robin anyway. Bruce would likely fire Tim for this mess. Maybe he’d phrase it as “I can’t bear to fail another Robin” and make Tim feel patronized instead of incompetent in a misguided attempt at kindness. But there’s no world in which Tim gets to stay Robin after how badly he messed up. Not just in the fire earlier that night or the fight at the theater, but afterwards, when Tim couldn’t tear Batman away from Tetch. He’s shown how useless he is, and Batman’s going to realize it soon if he hasn’t already. Better to quit before he’s fired. Better to leave now.

Tim really should be planning his break-ins, but instead he finds himself on a rooftop. He breathes in the smoggy air and tastes the strange cocktail of chemicals that makes Gotham home. From up above, the city looks beautiful, bright lights sparkling across a dark canvas. From down below, Tim would still say it looks beautiful, but from here—

Well. Tim can understand why, after all these years, Bruce has never given up on Gotham.

Tim doesn’t know how long he sits there, but he figures it’s got to be a while, because he hears the sound of a grappling line slicing through the air and then a whisper of footsteps behind him.

“Mind if I sit down?” Nightwing asks. Tim shrugs. Dick folds his legs into a seated position next to Tim and looks out at the glittering lights. “Bruce went to check on you and…he found your note.”

“My resignation letter,” Tim clarifies. It still hurts his throat a bit, but Alfred’s possibly-magical lozenges are a lifesaver. Technically, he was told not to talk, but all Bats are experts at ignoring medical advice.

“Yeah.” Dick turns towards him. “Look, I…we understand. Bruce understands. It’s fine if you have to get out for a bit. But what I don’t get is…why did you run away? It was terrifying, seeing that note and not knowing where you were. Bruce was in panicking and I wasn’t far behind.”

There’s something distinctly off about Dick’s phrasing, but Tim can’t put his finger on it. “It’s easier if I get a head start on things, you know?”

“A head start?” Dick tilts his head curiously.

“Well, if I stay then Bruce will have to call the CPP, and I don’t want to get swept up into social services and maybe get a social worker who’ll remember I existed and ask to meet my uncle,” Tim explains.

“What.” Dick says flatly. “Tim, you don’t have an uncle.”

Tim gives him an unimpressed stare. “Yeah. Which is why I have to fake one, and it’d be super frustrating to have to hire an actor to trick a social worker. So, if I leave now then I can resolve it all before Bruce has to deal with it.”

Dick puts his hands out like he’s pleading with someone. “Okay, um, can we back up here?” Tim shrugs. “Why would Bruce call CPP?”

“Because I’m not staying at Wayne Manor anymore,” Tim says slowly. He feels like he’s explaining it to a two-year-old, and—well, he knows that Dick is incredibly intelligent but right now it really doesn’t seem like it. “That’s…something you have to call CPP for? When the kid leaves your care?”

“Oh,” Dick says quietly. He looks away from Tim for a moment, takes a visibly deep breath, and then looks back. “I didn’t realize—That’s. That’s okay. It’s okay if you feel that way. You can stay with me, though. I registered as a foster parent a while ago in case something happened to Bruce. Robin can work with Nightwing and Dick Grayson can foster Tim. So, you don’t need to…invent a person.”

Tim throws his hands up in the air. “But I won’t be Robin!”

“That’s okay,” Dick says. “If that’s what you want, that’s okay.”

“But…it’s not a question of what I want,” Tim explains, looking down. “I left because quitting is better than getting fired! I don’t want Bruce to take away Robin, I’m not ready, but if I give it up, then…I can…I can pretend I’m okay.” It hurts to admit it, that he’s only pretending. Tim knew he wasn’t going to be Robin forever. He knew he was going to leave eventually. He had accepted that, he was fine with that, he liked that maybe he had a shot at actually surviving to an old age. But he’d always thought that he’d leave on a high note. After a good patrol. Bruce would congratulate Tim and thank him for his service, like a soldier retiring. And it would be like Batman was graduating or something, ready to exist without a Robin. Tim would know it was coming and choose it for himself. But, he’s not going to get that, so he has to pretend. “It’s easier if it hurts less. Cleaner. I—”

“Woah,” Dick interrupts. Tim freezes, gaze snapping to Dick’s face. “I don’t think we’re on the same page here. Why are you leaving again?”

“Because if I’m not Robin, then there’s no point in staying at Wayne Manor. I’m there—I was there because it was convenient for the Mission, that’s all.” No brainer.

Dick closes his eyes and leans back, before reopening them and scootching a little closer to Tim. “We definitely aren’t on the same page.”

“Why did you think I was leaving?”

“Well…” Dick shrugs. “Bruce did attack you with a batarang, bruise two of your ribs, and attempt to strangle you. And he was mind-controlled, but you still have that memory, so…we could understand if you need a break.”

Tim blinks at him, because that thought…never really occurred to him. He thinks of how his heart felt like it was going to burst out of his ribcage, how his mind turned terrifyingly blank, how Batman’s gauntlets dug into his throat, and—yeah. Yeah, that might make things a little awkward. But that’s Tim’s problem and he’ll get over it, because Batman was mind-controlled and Bruce would never, ever do that. And besides, he’s worked with people he was genuinely terrified of before, he’s worked with Lady Shiva, so even if he did suddenly develop a fear of someone who he shouldn’t logically fear, Tim would be fine. Right? Tim would make himself fine. “I’m fine,” he says, because he realizes he’s been silent for way too long. “It was Tetch doing that, not Bruce. I’m fine.”

“Bruce isn’t going to take away Robin, Tim,” Dick says. Tim hums disbelievingly, turning his head away and swinging his legs. He counts the thuds of his heels against the stone masonry. “But, even if he did—you don’t need to leave the Manor. You’re not here just because it’s convenient. You’re part of our family and you have a place here, Robin or not.”

“He isn’t going to take it away because I quit before he could,” Tim responds. It feels like he’s talking in circles with Dick. He should be breaking into Gotham CPP headquarters right now, not having pointless emotional conversations on a rooftop. “I failed tonight. I let him get mind-controlled and I couldn’t stop him from nearly killing Tetch. I failed as his partner and I failed as his light. And I’m not part of the family.”

“No. Batman isn’t going to fire you. You didn’t fail, and even if you did, you’re still learning. And you are part of the family. You’re Robin.” Dick smiles at Tim, and even though Tim knows he’s spouting complete BS, it warms something behind his two bruised ribs.

“Being Robin doesn’t make me part of your family,” Tim says. “And even if it did, Dick, I’m not Robin anymore, so I don’t belong with you guys.”

“Nope!” Dick says, overly cheerful. “You’re one of us now. No takebacks.” He shifts, expression turning serious. “For Bruce, Batman’s like a mask. A persona he puts on. But for us, Robin is…different. Robin isn’t a character we’re playing. It’s part of us. It’s who we are.”

“It’s who you are,” Tim corrects. Dick is the one who created the title. The first Robin. The one who defined what Robin meant. Jason continued the line and added his own flare. But Tim? He put on a uniform and went to work. “Robin’s always been temporary for me. I always knew I’d retire and just move on with the rest of my life.”

Dick shrugs. “Even if you quit, that doesn’t change a thing. We’re Robin, Tim, and that means something.”

“It means I saw a need and I filled it. Dick, I’m not—I wasn’t—a real Robin and you know it.”

“It means we took an oath. But—it’s more than that. We spent part of our childhood fighting crime from Gotham’s rooftops. Only we know what that’s like. Not Batman, not anyone else. Just Robins. We know what it’s like to fly. We fought to save a city that should’ve been fighting to save us. And we were so stubborn that we convinced the most paranoid and smothering father in the universe that the best option for us was blatant child endangerment. Tim, you stalked Batman to collect evidence of his recklessness, followed me to Haly’s Circus, and had the guts to present all this evidence to him and force him to make you Robin. You’re a Robin, Tim. It doesn’t matter if you never put on a domino mask again. You’re part in this family, whether you like it or not. You can’t leave.”

Tim snorts, before realizing that Dick is completely serious. And engaging with ridiculous arguments, especially Dick’s ridiculous arguments, is usually a path to disaster, but…Tim is tired right now, and Dick is right there, and this may be the last time Tim speaks to him ever again. Suddenly, he desperately wants to keep the conversation going for as long as possible. “Okay, one. That sounds insanely creepy. And two, shared trauma and poor self-preservation instincts don’t make a family.”

“They make this one. You’re not getting fired, but you’re definitely not getting kicked out of the family. I promise. So, please, Tim. Come home.”

And Robin lies and Nightwing lies, but…

…they don’t break their promises. They don’t break their oaths. Dick promises, and he means it.

So when Dick stands up, offering a hand, Tim’s fingers twitch. And then, almost against his will, he places his hand in Dick’s and pulls himself to his feet.

***

When they arrive in the Batcave, Tim barely gets a chance to take a few steps before Bruce is right in front of him, cowl off, hair disheveled. “Tim! Are you okay? Dick, where did you find him? Do you—” He freezes, before taking several steps back. “Sorry. Is this better?”

“I—” Tim begins, before Bruce cuts him off.

“I’m so sorry, Tim. I didn’t keep track of the fight and you paid the price for it and I am so, so sorry.”

“It’s—”

“And I understand if you want to stay with Dick for a little while or if you don’t feel you can be Robin anymore, but if there’s anything that would help, I would, I would—” Bruce is getting genuinely choked up and Tim needs to calm him down but he can’t get a word in edgewise. Tim turns to Dick with an expression of pure panic. “I’m sorry, I’m—”

“B,” Dick says loudly, rolling his eyes. “Let Tim speak.”

Bruce pauses and then bows his head slightly.

“I’m not scared of you, okay?” Tim says. This situation feels genuinely bizarre. “I’m not scared of you, I’m not—I’m not upset with you?” He thinks, looking at Batman, that if he wanted to feel scared, he could. If Bruce put on the cowl right now, so soon after the incident, Tim can…Tim can imagine how he might get scared. And if he does getscared, then he’ll figure that out. But looking at Batman, all he sees is Bruce: a mess, bags under his eyes, out of his mind with worry. “We’re fine,” he says.

“Oh,” Bruce mumbles, and Tim can see him smiling ever-so-slightly. “Oh, that’s. That’s good. But I’m—”

“Don’t say it,” Dick mutters.

“—sorry.”

Tim feels like he should ask if he’s going to get fired, but he’s not going to suggest it if Bruce hasn’t thought of that yet. This doesn’t feel entirely real. He’s not 100% sure that he’s not still on the theater’s stage, running out of oxygen, about to die. That seems a whole lot more plausible than this image of Batman in front of him, looking like—

—looking like a father who thought he might have lost his son.

“Bruce,” Dick says. “Tell Tim you’re not firing him.”

“What?” Bruce asks, bewildered, and Tim feels his heart sink. And then, because the universe apparently likes to play games of yo-yo with Tim’s organs, Bruce turns to Tim and says, firmly, “Of course not. You’re not fired. If you want to be Robin, then you can still be Robin.”

“He thought that you—”

“Stop it,” Tim hisses.

“This is important, Tim. Bruce, he thought you were going to kick him out, too.” Bruce stares at Tim wordlessly. Dick makes a vague encouraging gesture with his hand, but Tim can’t tell who it’s aimed at. “Bruce, are you going to kick Tim out?”

That shocks Bruce out of whatever confusion he’s in. “No!”

“I mean, if I’m still Robin—”

Bruce looks vaguely sick. “Tim, you being here isn’t dependent on you being Robin.” He sighs, and Tim can see Bruce’s gaze flicker over to Jason’s memorial. “It’s not conditional on anything. You are always welcome here, in this manor, in this family.”

Dick grins. “Told you, Tim. You’re stuck with us.”

Tim smiles too. Mostly to mimic, but—

He thinks he believes them. And he couldn’t think of a better family to be stuck in.

[the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake]

Just A Kid Next Door - Chapter 6

Bruce is finally back from being stuck in the time stream. Tim managed to save Batman and his loved ones. Now it is time for Tim to go home and rest. But the problem is that, Tim has no home. Or that's what he thinks so.

This will be a multichapter fic on how did Tim reconcile with his family. It will be full of angst, family feels and family shenanigans.

Masterlist

Here in the link to read the story in ao3.

-------------------------------CHAPTER 6---------------------------------

This is not unusual to Tim. To be honest Tim has found himself in these kind of situations many times than considered healthy. Especially in the last couple of months. If the last few months have taught him something, it was definitely how to handle the mess you’ve got yourself in. Alone.

Tim lets out a dry laugh, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth.

Slamming his Bo staff upright on the ground, he balanced his whole weight on it while launching his legs on the goon’s face.

It has been a week since Bruce’s return and Tim was trying his best to distract himself by drowning himself in cases.

Tim had a whole army of big bulky thugs to take down. And he considered himself doing a good job as he had already taken down most of them on his own.

When he found the location of warehouse where the shipment of the newly introduced drug in Gotham (Not Surprising) was taking place, he made a grave mistake by storming to the warehouse without any actual plan, which was very much unlike himself. Because Tim had plans for everything.

Hell, he even had a contingency plan written down in case the whole justice league turn into ducks. Which he made when he was running on only two hours of sleep. And was in middle of a desert for some covert mission. And he was not proud of it.

Tim cringed thinking about it now. It sounded like a good plan at that time.

Tim blocked another punch and kicked the man’s chest. A man wearing red mask, almost covering his entire face except for his eyes, snarled and made his way to Tim with a huge glass shard in his hand which Tim assumed probably belonged to the window which he had broken to get inside the warehouse.

“You don’t know whom you are fighting, Dr. Mid-Nite.” The man said, running towards Tim.

“Jesus Christ man, for the last time, I am not Dr.Mid-Nite. How many times do I have to make myself clear?”

Tim effortlessly disarmed the man with his Bo staff and drove his fist into the man’s nose, hard. The man stumbled, head flying as his eyes locked on the roof of the warehouse, unconscious.

“Oops, sorry. That was for not getting my name right.”

“Well that was easy” Tim thought, turning away and walking towards the many boxes stocked neatly at the other end of the warehouse. He wanted to take some the sample of those drugs with him to test it. Because Black mask just keeps coming up with new ways to drug Gotham.

Pocketing the sample in his utility belt, he heard a loud crash coming from the other end. He was not pleased with what he saw.

Standing near the pile of unconscious bodies, was another twenty-or so group of thugs.

“Umm…I’m toast”

“You made a huge mistake by coming here, Dr. Mid-Nite.” The thug standing in the front of the group said, maybe their leader.

“The real Dr.Mid-Nite is going to come and beat me up for identity theft any time soon” Tim said, getting into fighting stance. Clutching his Bo staff, he ran towards the thugs, his cape bellowing behind him.

“But you know what, I think I can take him down” Logically, Tim knew it was hard to take down all of these thugs at once, but it wasn’t impossible. After all, he took down the whole Council of Spider all by himself, when he was in his crusade to save Batman.

He swung his Bo staff at the thugs, kicking them. He then threw a smoke bomb to distract the others.

“Catch him” The leader shouted.

“Do I really look like Dr.Mid-Nite? It’s the cowl, right? I knew I should have ditched the cowl as soon as I came back to Gotham. The domino was so much better” Tim swung a powerful right to the Thug he met halfway. The large man punched Tim in the face. He did it with so much force that Tim went sailing through the air for some unspecified distance. His Bo staff flying somewhere else.

Tim was sure it had left a bruise on his face. Swiftly getting back on his feet, Tim rushed towards the man. Tim knew he need to leave. Soon.

He knew it is of no use fighting these goons. He had got what he wanted, and it was time for him to leave. He has other important issues to deal with than a simple drug bust. He need to contact the GCPD to handover these men.

Just as he was about to swing his arm to punch the man, he felt a searing pain in his abdomen and something hot dripping down his thigh.

“Uh-uh”

He was stabbed. Dammit. How had he failed to see that coming? Of course the man was armed.

Tim’s legs gave out and he fell down on the floor. Getting stabbed sucked. Especially the stiches, which he have to do it himself, will restrict his movements for the next few patrols, which in turn will affect his schedule.

And his missing spleen made it a cherry on top.

Tim let out a shaky sigh. It is going to be a long night.

Tim’s eyes started welling up, making his vision blurry. The man roughly held Tim’s hair, yanking his head backward. He brought the knife close to Tim’s neck.

Tim closed his eyes for a second, thinking of a way to escape. He had already sent a signal to the GCPD when that man was busy stabbing him. All he has to do now was buy some time.

And then he heard a loud crash in front of him. Tim opened his eyes and saw the man lying down on the floor, unconscious. Tim looked up and say a built figure, wearing blue and red suit with a large s- shield on his chest, a black leather jacket complimenting the look.

“Sup-superboy?” Tim chocked out.

“Pretty sure that the title now belongs to Jon, Rob” Kon said grinning, while holding out a hand to him.

Tim ignored the help and shakily got up on his own.

“You have your entire life to be a jerk. Why not take today off, huh?” Kon said, tutting.

“You could have called us for backup Tim, is it truly that hard?” Tim heard Cassie say, while effortlessly knocking down the other goons.

“I had the situation under my control” Tim huffed.

“You know what, I’m trying my hardest to see things from your perspective, but I just can’t get my head that far up my ass” Cassie said.

“Yeah man, I agree with her” Bart chimed. He was circling the leader of the gang swiftly, making him dizzy.

“So, what brings you guys to Gotham, huh? Need help with anything?”

Kon let out a long sigh.

“We came in search of you, bud. We were worried about you. You hadn’t talked to any of us for a while.”

“I’m fine. I am capable of taking care of myself” Tim sneered.

“God, Tim. We are your friends, man. Of course we always look out for you” Bart said, wiping the dust of his suit while walking towards him.

Tim had no time to reply as Bart swiftly pulled him into a bone crushing hug. Kon and Cassie joined him.

“We missed you so much, dude.”

Tim melted into the hug. Yeah, he missed his friends too. He missed Cassie’s sarcasm, Kon’s crappy jokes and Bart’s never ending appetite. Tim don’t want this moment to end. He with his friends, his small family.

Tim had met Kon only twice after he came back to life, once in Paris and the other time when Kon came to meet him in Gotham.

Tim was grappling his way towards the street of Gotham, thinking about everything that had happened in the past few days. He made assassin friends, worked for Ra’s Al Ghul, fought against the Council of Spiders, found out that Bruce was stuck in the time stream, and the list goes on.

But now, this moment, he was feeling much better. He was back in Gotham.

But this is how Tim knew he needed to see a therapist. Because he actually missed Gotham. This was his first day back in Gotham, and he already have shit ton of work to do.

Tim needed to tell Alfred and Dick about Bruce. Even though he wasn’t part of the family now, they deserved to know. Bruce was practically like a son to Alfred after all, and he was alive.

Bruce is alive.

Bart is alive

And so is-

“Your face is going to break if you keep that up…” Tim was sure he had a whiplash from turning his neck so fast, but sight which greeted him was definitely worth it.

“And honestly, your face wasn’t that great to begin with” Kon completed.

And so is Conner.

Kon just kept on rambling, as Tim was trying to process what was happening.

“Why so happy, let me guess, sale on leather?”

“You’re going to get matching chaps, is that it?”

“Tim?” Kon called out, waving his hand in front of Tim’s face.

“Hello?”

“Okay, now you’re creeping me out, will you say somethi-”

Tim cut off Kon by pulling him closer and locking him in a tight embrace. Sure he had seen Kon in Paris before, but this was the first time he was actually able to process it.

Kon is alive

Alive.

Oh my God, so is Bruce, Bar-

“Tim, buddy. If you’re trying to be all dark and grim now, it isn’t going to help”

“You’re alive.” Tim said, breaking the hug and pulling out his cowl.

“I thought we already conversed this.”

“I knew you were back, that Bart was back, but it all happened so fast that, I never, I never let it soak in.”

Kon smiled at Tim bashfully.

“I missed you too, Rob”

“And now, what are you doing in Gotham. You found something, didn’t you?” Kon asked.

“Let’s just say I’m getting there.”

“How can I help?”

“I still have couple of things to take care of, and then, I’ll be back.”

“Good. Because we miss you, man. Me, Cassie, Bart… all of us.” Kon said, his eyes showing multitude of emotions.

“If you need me, just yell. I’ll hear you.” Kon said, as he started floating, getting ready to fly.

“Thanks.”

“For what?” Kon asked, before leaving.

“For believing in me”

And Kon took his leave, soaring high along with Krypto, leaving Tim with his thoughts.

But Bart, this is the first time he is meeting Bart after he helped him take down Ra’s Al Ghul after he tried to kill Tim when he came to take over Wayne enterprises.

And he was still kinda mad at Cassie for not believing in him at first. Only a little though.

Tim winced as he was released from the hug.

“Are you okay?” Kon asked, voice laced with concern.

“I’m in pain.”

“Do you mean emotional pain or- Oh my God! That’s a lot of blood” Bart shouted, his eyes darting to Tim’s abdomen.

Shoot. Yeah, he totally forgot that he got stabbed.

“Yes. Pain”

“Oh my God, Tim. Are you crazy?” Cassie exclaimed. The last thing Tim saw was his friends’ worried faces as he fell into complete oblivion.

[welcometowhore-rrorville]

𝓢𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓪𝓼 𝓐𝓷𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓼

Featuring: Freddy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Michael Myers, Bubba Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair 

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: mentions of animal death (minor, in Michael’s part), slashers as animals being assholes, just general fun headcanons, no cat or dog because I always see them as cats and dogs and wanted to mix it up

-

Freddy Krueger

Some sort of bird

Probably a Conure that lost his feathers in some sort of fire

Is an asshole

And is smart enough to mock you

Will wake you up by biting your nose

Always escapes his enclosure

Can no longer fly but will manage to get up on counters and on top of your fridge anyway

Has overgrown talons and will use them for violence

Do not bring any company over

Very rarely will calm down and nestle against your chest during movie nights

But then bite you and saunter off

Jason Voorhees

Reticulated Python

Has unique scale markings on his face that resemble a hockey mask

Is huge

And usually lurks in the corner of his massive enclosure under a hide

He’ll come out at night and explore the area, and eventually figures out away to escape and roam around at night

The first time he does this you have a heart attack

He’s a massive snake

And who knows where he’s at right now?

You fear for any rodents that might be lurking

But when you find him he’s slowly but surely slithering across the living room floor, tongue flicking in curiosity

He’s a gentle giant around you

Not a fan of house guests and will actively try to escape his enclosure to scare them off

Will tolerate being picked up by you for short stretches of time

Lucky for him picking up a massive snake is no easy task

He likes to make himself comfortable on your couch and slither on top of your head to rest himself there and stare at the tv

He’s never tried to strike at you and only accidently takes your breath away when he’s trying to adjust himself in your grasp

It’s not his fault his a big boy and also consists of 99% muscle

Brahms Heelshire

Mouse

Has a massive enclosure you put together so he has more than enough space to make himself at home

Doesn’t use his hide and instead climbs in between his hide and the cage wall and nestles himself there

Loves nestling into cramped spaces

Will make random piles of bedding and hide food within them

Only comes out when you’re not home for the first few weeks

Eventually comes out when you have a treat for him

It takes a while for him to become used to you enough for you to pick him up

He’s pretty big for a mouse

and really hairy, with lots of curls all over his furry body

Will wrap his tail around your wrist for balance

Likes to nestle against the back of your neck and the collar of your shirt

Will sit there for hours and watch as you do every day tasks

Just let him down for bathroom breaks

Like everyone else, doesn’t like strangers and will bite them or scratch them if able

Michael Myers

Rat

The most massive rodent you’ve ever seen

Will never stay in his enclosure

Ever

You never see him eat or drink or anything 

He just wanders your house and occasionally gnaws on things

Has massive front teeth and claws

Has various scratches and missing fur patches on his body

Never makes a noise

Will kill any rodent or insect crawling around your house

Just leaves the body there for you to find

Will very rarely lay in your bed, at the very edge, only half asleep

Doesn’t like being touched

Or caged

At this point he owns the place and you just pay rent

Will seriously injure house guests

And anybody who comes near the front door

Has bit you a few times

You still have scars

But you can’t figure out how to get rid of him so he stays

Bubba Sawyer 

Tiger Oscar Cichlid 

He is in a tank by himself after he cannibalized all of your other cichlids

He is massive

And even in the largest tank you could find he has some trouble turning around

Will eat anything and everything dropped into the tank

He’s got some missing scales, especially around his mouth and eyes

He’ll chase your finger if you put it against the glass and move it around

Has jumped out of the tank on multiple occasions even with the lid clipped shut

As soon as he sees his food he splashes out of the water and hits the top of the lid with a loud thump

When you scrub the algae off the tank he’s always right next to you, bumping your hand and arm

Weirdly enough, likes pets

Will keep bumping your arm until you run a hand down his side

You know it’s not good for a fish’s slime coat to do that

But it’s the only way to keep him calm long enough to scrub away the algae

You have to put him in your bathtub when it’s time to deep clean the tank

Refused to get in a bucket

You had to carry him--wet and slimy and flopping around in your arms

Any time you have company he always stares at them and occasionally bumps his head against the lid of the tank

People are mostly scared of the giant fish and don’t come over much

Bo Sinclair

Bearded Dragon

He will not quit head-bobbing at his own reflection in the glass

Very territorial

Has a very pretty scale pattern

Will bite you

Not hard

But you can tell he’s annoyed with you

He doesn’t like being in his tank much

Prefers to hang out on the kitchen counter and bask in the sunlight coming in through the window

It’s not like you can explain he needs the lights in his enclosure to get his vitamin D

Will also sit outside on the porch with you

Only eats worms

He will not bother to eat crickets when he knows you have food that doesn’t run around

You usually throw in a few crickets anyway

Also not a fan of salads 

You have to hand feed him each piece of leafy green or else he will not eat it

He’s spoiled

Will throw fits and knock over stuff in his enclosure until you let him have some outside time

Likes lounging on the couch with you

Also likes when you pet his head

Climbs in your shirt and stays there

Vincent Sinclair

Chameleon

Very big and gangly

Turns some really pretty colors when out in the open

Mainly stays up in the branches in his enclosure, blended into the greenery

You don’t see him often

Likes peace and quiet

Doesn’t like being held or touched

He rarely spends time on the ground of his enclosure, save for when he has to climb down to eat food

You leave the door to his enclosure open sometimes and he pokes his head out to look around before going back inside

He doesn’t do much besides mimic the colors in your room

After a while of having him you’ve managed to get him used to being held for short periods of time

Will nestle in your hair or behind your neck

Do not leave him in an open space with no hiding spots or he will freak

[wyattjohnston]

take my hand, baby - brock boeser

series: take you one day at a time

summary: the lead up to the 2023 trade deadline is a little chaotic.

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 2,342

The rumours had been flying for months, a long off-season of potential trade rumours and articles about moving him being the solution to the Canucks cap-space woes—Annie checked every notification on her phone in case it was the one that sealed their fate.

At the beginning of the season it had been devastating but understandable, knowing that Brock was unlikely to see out the season in Vancouver—that even if he did, Bo probably wouldn’t.

It became a lot less understandable a month into the season when Annie stared down at the positive pregnancy test while Brock was in the middle of a weeklong road trip up the east coast.

“I should have waited until he got home. Right, Coolie?” Annie asked as he started to hover around her legs. She scratched him behind the ears. “I should definitely tell him first but probably not on the phone. You have to promise to keep it a surprise.”

Coolie woofed and Annie took it as agreement before he trotted out of the room to tell Milo.

She tapped the stick against the edge of the sink a few times as she tried to work out what was really going through her mind. She didn’t feel the fear she once had, having the word ‘pregnant’ staring back up at her, which was a relief in and of itself. Most of her worry came from having to keep her mouth shut until she saw Brock again.

Annie smiled at her reflection in the mirror, a gentle laugh bubbling from her lips.

The test didn’t leave Annie’s mind once over the next four days; it made talking to Holly almost impossible, a lovely combination of secret keeping and her mind wandering to the test—to the future.

In a moment of weakness, unable to just keep the news between her and the dogs, Annie whispered it into Tulsa’s ear while Holly was distracted by Gunnar. At seven months old, Tulsa obviously had no idea what she was being told, but it settled something in Annie to say it out loud to another human.

“They’re going to be a little younger than you,” Annie said, bouncing Tulsa up and down on her knee, “but I hope you’re best friends.”

Holly had been none-the-wiser.

In their many phone calls before he came home, Brock remained unaware that Annie was keeping anything from him. He noted on more than one occasion that she sounded happy and she just shrugged and said it had been a good week.

It was still early in the afternoon when Brock got home, a benefit of time zones counteracting long flights, and Annie was lounging on their outdoor sofa, Coolie stretched out over her legs and Milo cuddled up into her side. Neither dog did anything more than lift their heads when the back door slid open and Brock walked out.

Annie never got sick of seeing him.

“I thought you’d be working,” he said, smiling fondly at the sight and leaning down to kiss her before he scratched both dogs behind the ears thoroughly.

“I scheduled it off when your schedule came out and I found out they’d shipped you off for ten days.”

He laughed, making room for himself on the couch—Coolie was unimpressed by the disruption but settled back into Brock’s lap. Annie had to find space on his lap around Coolie, but she managed.

Brock said, “You just had me home for like three weeks; you should be sick of me.”

“You weren’t supposed to fuck up your hand again, so I couldn’t prepare around that,” Annie said, tersely, still unhappy that he’d been put in the line up so soon after his surgery. She wasn’t unhappy with him—knowing all too well that if you give a hockey player the choice, they’ll say they’re fine to play—just at the organisation for letting him.

“I don’t want to talk about hockey.” Brock sighed heavily and Annie didn’t blame him. It had been a poor road trip—2 wins in 5 games—and only exacerbated the loss record while Brock was on the ice. He had 2 wins in 11 games.

It was as good a time as any, Annie figured. Her heartbeat was getting quicker and quicker, the anticipation growing with every second she waited. It would lift his mood, too, she was sure of it.

So, she asked, giddily, “Wanna know a secret?”

“Is Holly pregnant again?”

“No, Holly’s not pregnant,” Annie said. “I am.”

“What’s the secr—wait, Annie.”

She was sure his eyes had never been that wide, that his expression had never been happier—it certainly hadn’t in the last year. He reached out for Annie desperately, jostling both the dogs off the couch, and there was no time wasted in her climbing into his lap.

“It’s why I’ve been so happy this week,” she said into the top of Brock’s head.

His face was buried into her neck, his arms wrapped tightly around her body. Her straddle over his lap was rather awkward but he was holding her so close that moving was out of the occasion, it didn’t matter, really, when everything else felt positively euphoric.

“Holy shit, Annie, I love you so much.”

His voice was watery and she could feel his tears on her skin, holding him closer was no hardship—especially not when she was beginning to cry herself.

As much as Annie didn’t want to move, she did have to clamber off Brock’s lap because the feeling in her legs started to disappear. Brock was reluctant but he stood up with her, cupping her face and kissing her breathlessly.

“Who have you told?” he asked, not sounding like he’d be upset by any answer she gave. She was certain nothing could ruin the blissful expression on his face.

“You. The dogs. Tulsa. I only peed on a stick; I haven’t even told a doctor yet.”

“This is—this is unreal, Annie,” he said, just before he kissed her again. Her legs were getting weaker with every kiss. “Should we get married?”

“I don’t need to be married. If you want to be married then we can but we can do this without a wedding.”

Brock’s arms wrapped around her waist, and he lifted her off her feet to spin her around. The commotion caused the dogs to bark and start chasing Annie’s feet, but Brock didn’t let her down.

Annie wasn’t even supposed to be in Florida with them.

About a week before the All-Star break, something had clawed at her and told her she needed to be there with them, so she re-arranged her plans to go to Disney World with her brother, his wife and their two kids:

While six months pregnant.

Brock had let it happen because of that fact, and told her to change his plans, too.

It became clear on the 30th of January exactly what that clawing feeling had been.

It was just the two of them at the hotel, Annie barely made it out of the room before retreating back inside and going back to bed and Bo having left early because of the calls he was getting.

Annie didn’t even know until Bo knocked on her door, waking her up and asking to be let in. The dejected look on his face let her know right away what had transpired during her nap.

“Want to know where I’m going?” he asked, tapping his phone against his hand.

“I guess.”

“Islanders.”

The bottom fell out of Annie’s stomach as a map of North America flew into her mind, drawing a thick red line between Vancouver and New York. That was something to deal with later.

“It’s January,” Annie chose to settle on. “Why the fuck are they trading anybody in January?”

“I don’t know, Ann.”

She stared at him, the map not leaving her mind. It was so far, further than he’d ever been before, and that in and of itself was terrifying.

“I don’t want to make this about me,” she said, furious at the tears welling up in her eyes, “but I’m going to because you’re supposed to be here for me and here after this baby’s born and Holly is supposed to help me. I can’t—I can’t do this without you. I’ve never been able to do anything without you.”

Her hands settled over her ever-growing and ever-present bump as she spoke. It had been a smooth pregnancy, all things considered—aside from some lethargy and the first trimester morning sickness, she had nothing to complain about.

It wasn’t even the birthing part she was particularly scared of.

The part that worried her the most was not having anyone around to help her—through the birth or the newborn stage. The part that was coming true in front of her eyes.

“You don’t need me,” Bo assured her, his hands on her shoulders as he stared her down in the most aggressively fond way. “If you need Holly, she’ll come back. You know that. And you have Brock, who is arguably the most important person you’re going to need.”

Annie huffed, childishly stomping her foot, “He’s going to be traded, too, so who the fuck knows.”

Bo sat her down on the bed, looking down at her as she imagined he did to Gunnar when he was getting a talking to. He told her, “If Brock does get traded, you’re not staying in Vancouver. You’ve told me all the plans you’ve got in case you have to move at the deadline.”

It was the truth, as difficult as she knew it would be. The contingencies had been in place almost since they found out, what with the trade rumours amping up with every passing day.

“If any old man in the league had any fucking decency maybe they would have traded him today when I’m six months pregnant and less fucking stressed.”

“Less stressed,” Bo laughed, throwing his head back. “Is that what you call this?”

Annie glared, her mouth pulling tight and her eyebrows doing the same. She stood, poked Bo in the chest and said, “I’m going to kick everybody’s ass between Vancouver and fucking Brooklyn. Including yours.”

Nobody had expected Annie’s baby bump to get quite so round. Holly had made a point of telling Annie that it wouldn’t get too big purely because Annie was small—in height and weight. Nobody she knew was making too many comments about it, but strangers passing on the street had no issue asking her when she was due because it must have been any moment. The looks on their faces when Annie said, through gritted teeth, that she was barely seven months along and they should mind their own business was only just enough to get her through.

Pregnancy had turned her into a stress eater, which may have been contributing to the unexpected size, and in the days leading up to the trade deadline she was eating more and more because she was trying to internalise her own stresses to avoid exacerbating Brock’s.

Up until four or five days before ethe deadline, it was impossible to separate Brock from his phone; every single buzz sent him reaching for it lightning fast only to be met with another, entirely unrelated trade, or somebody in his family’s group chat sending a cute photo. The idea of hiding his phone had tempted Annie more than once but she knew better than to add the stressing of missing anything to the mix.

Things died down in the final few days before the deadline, all the big trades were seemingly done and Brock had been promised that he was in Vancouver to stay; Annie didn’t trust those promises but they made Brock lighter and more carefree so she wouldn’t tell him what she thought.

The night before the deadline—the 2nd of March, on the back of a loss against Minnesota where not even his power play goal could take out the sting—Annie greeted Brock at the door.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” Brock said when he saw her, putting an end to the sneaking he’d been attempting.

“Slept all day in case you were up all night. Didn’t want you to be alone,” she said softly. She took his suit jacket from his arms and kissed him.

“You need sleep,” Brock argued as he wrapped her up and shuffled her out of the doorway. “You can’t stay up all night.”

“I can try.”

Brock’s smirk showed that he didn’t believe she could do it, so Annie settled on making him lie down with her in the hope that she could coax him into some rest.

He didn’t seem to be overly caught up in the deadline being so soon, happy to just lie beside her and stifle a laugh as she did her best to shuffle closer to him, inevitably neding some assistance to move the pillow that was supporting her bump but when the only thing between them was her stomach, she put her arm over his stomach and watched him with soft eyes as she started talking to him about their baby names shortlist.

Annie couldn’t say what time she fell asleep, or how long it took Brock to after her, but by the time they woke up Annie knew it was late. When she opened her eyes, unimpressed by the light that was filtering into the room from the poorly drawn blinds, Brock was smiling at her peacefully.

“What’s the time?” she asked, her voice hoarse and muffled by the pillow.

“Just before noon. I think I’m safe. We’re safe.”

A smile grew so large on Annie’s face that her cheeks started to hurt within seconds—somehow, through sheer willpower, she threw herself on top of Brock and started kissing his face. Brock’s arms tightened around her, keeping her secure on top of him, just letting the kisses happen.

“This means I win.”

“Win what?”

“Our baby is going to be so Canadian.”

tag list: @fallinallincurls @spine-buster @2manytabsopen @xcicix @sorryjustafangirl @senditcolton @shinyfalcon4 @guesswhoispathetic @laurenairay @jarmorie @p1nkbarbi3

sorry if you got pinged a second time i'm having issues with tumblr lmao :/

add yourself to the tag list

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[kharmii]

(Where Dabi takes Geten out of his Meta Liberation Army bubble so he can observe some normal people)

Geten: Is the Meta Liberation Army handbook short on stock?

Clerk: Sorry, that's all we have... *sigh*

Geten: Get a larger stock and they will sell!

Clerk: Thank you for your suggestion.

Geten: There's still time to be patient until that glorious day comes.

It can't be helped; I must refrain from using my meta ability in public. (To Dabi) What did you buy?

Dabi: It's a secret.

Geten: Stop following me!

Dabi: It's a babysitting job. Give me the pocket money the bald CEO gave you.

Geten: Don't call him bald!

Dabi: Let's get something to eat.

Geten: We'll go to the restaurant run by PLA soldiers and frequented by government officials that offers free all-you-can-eat meals to senior officials.

Dabi: That's so shitty.

(Dabi takes Geten to a popular fast-food burger joint instead)

Geten: -Looks messy

(Sign says 'Wo's Burgers')

Dabi: How can we talk about the future of society without knowing what's popular with our current society?

Worker: Welcome to Wo's. Can I take your order!

Random Girl: Hello, mom? The closing ceremony is over. Big brother is here too.

Random Older Boy: Which one is good?

Random Voice on Phone: Yes, I went to pick you up. I'll be back after lunch.

Random Younger Boy: No way.

Boy: The red one!

Older Brother: Seriously?!?!?! It's spicy!

Boy: Yeah! Ta-bo is an adult at school.

Dabi: Hey.

Geten: Ah... Ah, leave it to me.

Dabi: If you don't like it, burn it.

Geten: Don't just kill future soldiers without permission.

Don't hold me back with haphazard slaughter. If you get in his way, I'll put an end to your life right here.

(Geten gets more worked up)

Geten: When the time comes, as much as you want to, just kill them if they need killing. Right now, you're definitely the one holding me back.

(Where Geten reveals how he can't connect with regular people from being sheltered and isolated by MLA ideology.....hints at affection for Dabi maybe)

Geten: It's possible to become attached to a single ant,

When they gather together, they're no different from the buildings that grow everywhere.

It's an unrealistic view, like watching them from the other side of a television or a window.

Geten: ReDestro is passionate about society, which includes the general public.

Even if I think so, maybe I-I need to have a real, tangible experience of it.

Even if a large number of people were killed in front of you, you probably wouldn't feel any particular sympathy.

I think it puts a river between us.

The reason I stopped earlier was simply because that's what Re-Destro still wants.

Blue Flame, who are you?

Dabi: You're so talkative. Are you an adolescent?

Everyone has a river around them, right?

So, let's build a bridge for the same cause or dream... No matter how many weird arguments you make, no matter how disgusting the logic.

You're just gonna fly off like a brain dead idiot anyway, so don't ask me.

Well...

Geten: It's impossible..

Dabi: If you cross, I'll give you a kiss.

Geten: What are you talking about?

Dabi: The story of the ice man who drowned miserably in the Sanzu River.

Geten: Every single time since a while ago.....!

Dabi: It's fine, kids should just act like kids and have a happy meal.

Geten: Stop treating me like a child!

Geten: I don't approve, I don't approve....

*cough* *munch, munch, munch* *cough* *munch*

(Manages with mouth full) This simple food is the diet of the masses.

*breaks into a paroxysm of choking and coughing from food getting caught in his throat. It was so good he ate it too fast)

Dabi: (amused spewing vinegar) I don't understand hamster language. You are eating your hair. Wow, you look sloppy. Sheez....

*slaps him*

Did it hit you strange?

Geten: !?

Geten at a high point observing Dabi speaking to another person.

Geten: (creeping on Dabi in a dark alley) If we understood each other, there would have been a way for us to live together.

Are you pretending to be a self-sacrificing hero?

"You said things like 'light and shadow', 'we live in different worlds', 'fly freely', even though you were the one who made it impossible for me to fly.

That is.....

Is this your kind of love, Blue Flame?

Dabi: He talks so much. He won't stop talking. What a brat.

Geten: Should I get Trumpet to look into finding a good plastic surgeon?

If you can live without using fire, you don't need me. But you do need me, right?

The two of us could retreat to the countryside.

I wish I could live modestly and peacefully.

Dabi: Get wet

Geten: Dry it yourself.

Dabi: Impossible.

Geten: (thinking) Our relationship continues to develop. What a sad man.

Geten: (whispers an unintelligible endearment)

Dabi: Don't call me that, I'll kill you.

Geten: Is this name reserved for Hawks? Sorry about that.

Dabi: What, you don't even know your name? (Meaning the endearment is for Geten).

You're living a truly wonderful life, poor thing.

Geten: ? (Too dense to get it)

Huh? You're kidding!! How the hell do you know that!!!

Dabi: Pfff.....Let's go.

Geten: (confused, maybe because he doesn't actually know his real name, and Dabi claimed the endearment was his actual name).

Hey! There's more like this!

(Dabi pretends not to listen while Geten rants)

Re-Destro's.......apparently it was discovered in the notes he left behind! And then...! Anyway, there are even more touching scenes!

This is the worst! I don't believe it! Hey!

Dabi: *sighs*

Art credit: yaoi, hrak (yaoi), My Hero Academia BL 3000+ bookmarks / （※注キャプション）荼ホ＋外荼外の今までに描いた漫画 - pixiv

[obislittleone]

What Once Was Mine

Chapter 11

Summary: Locked away in a house her entire life, she always dreamed of exploring the nearby kingdom for just a day, believing it could make the rest of her days in solitude bearable. What she was unaware of, was the real reason she’d been hidden away for so long. Changes comes swift like a flying dagger when a thieving bounty hunter seeks solace in the old home.

Din Djarin Royalty!AU / Tangled!AU

Pairing: Din Djarin x Princess Kryze!Reader

A/n: okay so there’s one more part after this one and then I’ll just probably start posting a series that’s like half finished but its in my drafts… and alsos the indy fic

Warnings: oh boy kinda a lot… mentions of death, having beatings take place, several scenes with blood… there’s a mention of beheading… sadness and depression idk. Uncomfortable situations fr… imprisonment and degradation again bc why not

Bo Katan sat on the stool across from you, watching with both anxiety and pride as you were being fitted with a traditional suit of Mandalorian beskar armor.

“You wear it well,” she commented, seeing the look on your face as you held the helmet in your hands. It matched the chest plate and the pauldrons in which were being placed upon each shoulder. They both carried the signet of the blue owl, and the etchings looked as though they had been carved ages ago. “I know you won’t disgrace it the way I have.”

You turned to her with sad eyes. She regrets the day she lost to Gideon, all but throwing the fight and losing everything she had in only a moment. She yielded, and that’s what everyone knew, but little did they know the cause as to why. She was a strong fighter, she would not have lost it had it not been for a certain someone.

“You did the best you could have done,” you assumed, trying to give an encouraging smile, though your nerves made the corner of your lip twitch in an awkward way.

“No, I didn’t. I gave in,” she paused, heaving a sigh and shaking off the wave of memories. “Gideon challenged me when I was only sixteen. I felt I was unready to be queen, so I faltered and let him win.”

“What?”

The surprise in your tone matched the wide eyed stare you wore on your face, the gears in your head working overtime to try and process why she might have done such a thing.

“There were things expected of me, and I wasn’t ready to commit to them… I once had a love like yours, but being queen meant I would be forced to give it up.” Her brows furrowed as she spoke of the past, an inkling in her mind wanted her to share it with you, but she was unsure if she was a good idea. You already had enough pressure on your shoulders.

“Bo,” you wanted her to feel your sympathy, to know that with your love’s life on the line, you could partially understand her feelings.

“After I lost the fight, that love was taken from me anyway. The King made fast enemies in the land, and drafted an entire army to rid him of all the people that stood in the way of his rule. The man I intended to marry was killed and I was powerless to stop it.”

“I’m sorry…” you trailed off, remaining silent for a few moments until you caught sight of yourself in the reflection of another chest plate hanging on the wall. You looked mighty and strong. “Gideon will be defeated, I promise. I will finish what you started.”

“I shall hope with everything in me that your strength will not falter in battle. I know you will do right by your hunter,” she nodded, taking the helmet from your hands and placing it atop your head. The metal felt warm around you, but the T shaped opening in the front gave you a sense of exact focus. As long as your eyes remained on Gideon, you would be set in your mission to kill him.

You’d never killed anyone before, and growing up you swore you never would, knowing the brutality of your powers was exactly why you were hidden away… you always said that violence was not your way, but this man had cheated you, lied to you and publicly humiliated you on more than one front. If all of that was not bad enough, the way he’d treated Din topped it all. The blood that had stained the edges of your beautiful green sleeves the night prior, it was thick and dark. Just like it had been when he crossed paths with death before. Your kidnapper who had tried to kill him was child’s play compared to the enemy you now faced. He held the power of the kingdom in his hands, and you needed to physically destroy him in order to stop him.

Din’s sentencing to death was paused temporarily, for the duel of rulers would take priority over the hanging of a single criminal. You only hoped he was alright, being stuck in a cage where he didn’t belong. He was like a bird with clipped wings, unable to fly or flourish or do anything in the confines of his small cell.

It was only a matter of time before you set him free, and that was what you kept your mind on as you prepared to meet your opponent.

-

You’d been given a sword and shield to battle with, though they were heavy and you didn’t really need them. You’d gone over the rules with Bo Katan several times, and every time there had not been a rule against using ones magical powers… none else ever living in Mandalore seemingly possessed them.

You’d been standing in a room, overhearing the crowd shouting in the arena outside. The horseback ride on the way to said location was short, barely outside of the castle walls, but it gave you too much time to think about how things might possibly go wrong. You were stronger than him by far, and your motivation to fight was growing even now, but a small yet powerful voice in your head told you it was going to end poorly. You could lose your footing or get distracted. If you let your guard down even once, it would be over.

The door opening stopped your intrusive thoughts from rampaging, but the face on the other side made your skin crawl.

“What are you doing here?”

King Gideon chuckled darkly before entering the room. He was alone, but that didn’t make him any less of a threat at the moment. You couldn’t touch a hair on his head before the canon sounded, but anything he said or did now could easily take your mindset and make it even worse.

“If you’d care to take a quick stroll, I think there’s something you should see,” he spoke heavy, a smirk rising to his cheeks. He held his hand out towards the doorway, and you knew that he wouldn’t leave until you followed along with his charade, so you passed him and walked through the door. You noticed that with all your armor and thick sole boots, you were almost as large in frame as he was. It made you feel stronger in some way.

“Make it quick,” you turned to him, not allowing a hint of emotion to show through your voice. You wouldn’t let him have anything on you, not one show of anger or even a clenched fist to show he’d caused it.

His steps were mockingly slow from there, but it didn’t take long before he reached a staircase. He gestured for you to go first, and you did, climbing up what you counted to be three flights before there was another door. You looked back to the King, and he nodded, so you entered. You appeared to be on the top level of the arena, overlooking the kingdom. Three stories up, and you wondered if he’d perhaps dragged you up here to push you off. He was still King, and if he had, he’d be the ruler nonetheless, even if it was a cowardly move, he could still do it.

“If you’d care to sight see with me, I believe you’ll find a particular scene down there to your interest.”

You shifted your eyes over the ledge, and froze to your place.

Your small green child was held in a cage meant for a bird, his coos and cries for help being ignored by the palace guards keeping watch. On the ground beside him was Din, curling in on himself as three men beat him to a pulp. They kicked and yelled at him, watching in fake pity as he tried his best to fight back. He was in no condition to fight in the first place, nor was he strong enough after not being fed for two days.

“Stop them,” you turned to Gideon, your fiery gaze burning through his exterior for a moment, as he almost looked afraid. You still carried the sword made of Mandalorian iron, an impenetrable metal that could cut him down where he stood. He took a step back and immediately felt the power shift. This could still work to his advantage. “Stop them, now!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’ve given my last orders as King before the duel, and as per tradition, my rule will be ceased until it is over,” he raised his hands, as if this was not his plan all along, to lure you here and allow you to see with your own eyes the man you loved being beaten to death. “I do hope for your sake he lives until the battle, for then you have a chance to save him.”

You weren’t going to let this happen. Everything you did was to protect the ones you love, and now they were being held against their will, one of them being tortured on your behalf, simply because the King couldn’t touch you, yet.

At this very point you didn’t care about the rules, only that an end was put to this man. A man who so viscously would steal from you everything you had for the reason of revenge. You drew your sword from the sheath at your hip, swinging it over your head and straight at him. But this was what he wanted, and he’d been prepared. He ignited the Dark Saber and blocked your strike, counter attacking and hitting your vambrace, which burned like fire. You retreated for only a second before again throwing the blade towards his body, which was deflected for a second time by his glowing weapon. It turned the metal of the sword red with heat, and not even a moment later, the sword was hit away from your hands by another rough strike.

Gideon stared you down, the saber inches away from your neck. You could feel the warmth emanating from where it was held, and tried your best to stay still. Even a flinch could end your life.

“Save it for the arena,” he said smugly before disengaging his weapon and handing yours back to you. You took it quickly, and turned to leave. If there was still time, you could tell Bo about the guards behind the building. She was a skilled fighter, perhaps she could stop them from killing Din until the fight was over.

As soon as you reached the bottom of the stairs, you’d been pulled by the arm.

“Where were you? It’s less than two minutes until the canon is lit,” Mayfeld seemed stressed, like he’d been looking for you for ages. Truth be told, you weren’t supposed to leave the room they put you in until it was time, so already you’d gotten them on the tips of their toes.

“Mayfeld, you have to listen to me,” you tried to make him stop walking, to slow down at least so the words could come out while he was paying attention.

“It’ll have to wait until after the fight. You’re supposed to be out there already,” he kept on, practically dragging you with him until you reached a chain drawn entrance, the wooden slab being lowered to the ground.

“No, you don’t understand he’s-“

“You’re going to be fine, just remember what Bo said.”

And with that, you were shoved into the arena. You turned towards the center of it, hearing the people of the land cheering. You stood in fear of the events around you, seeing as though you had been thrust into the middle with no where to go. There was only one way out, and that was the death of Gideon, the faux King of Mandalore.

You looked to the other side of the arena, and sure enough… the second wooden slab was lowered until it hit the dirt, and behind it stood your opponent. His stance was wide, and it angered you to see how arrogantly he strolled in. His weapon was activated, and he dragged it next to him in the dirt, creating small fits of dust to fly in the air behind his steps.

He stopped about ten feet away from you, pointing to the top of the arena where you both were just standing only minutes ago. The canon had been raised, and the fuse had been lit, the flame getting closer and closer until the loud boom was heard, echoing through the sky.

You held your weapon steady, making sure your helmet was secure before charging him. You struck first, making contact with his saber, while he quickly rebuttals against you. You were fired up, and so was he. The crowd was only background noise as this feud ending battle commenced.

-

Bo had been made aware of the hunter’s disappearance from his cell. She snuck in that morning to try and get him into a safer location until after the fight, but found that he’d been removed, the cell at the end of the block being completely empty when she went in. She hadn’t however found him in time to prevent the horrendous beatings he’d received. At the sound of the canon, she left her place on the ground level of the arena, going outside to inspect the guards that had been rotating to a discreet location.

When she saw the hunter on the ground, covered in his own blood, she leapt into action immediately. She pulled the knives from her boots and threw them straight forward, killing out the only guards who had been armed. They dropped to the ground before her as the other three stopped their attack on Din to focus on her. She was a threat by all means, and they remember the fight she put up at her young age of sixteen. Now, it was likely she could kill a man with her bare hands.

“Who’s first?” She quipped, stepping in front of Din and tilting her head to the one in the center. He looked as if he was waiting to get a piece of her, and was all too confident he would be able to. “You.”

Just as anticipated, he ran towards her, arms flailing about and voice ringing out a battle cry. He was all bark, unfortunately, as she caught him before he made contact, gripping under his shoulder and twisting just right until his shoulder was out of socket. She grabbed his neck and bashed his head over her knee and he went down to the ground, writhing in pain and out of his clear consciousness as the next man charged after her. She kicked out in front of her this time, letting his weight carry him backwards, all she had to do then was land a hard sock on his jaw and he collapsed over top of the last one. The man left standing was not in any hurry to rush her, but he’d been waiting, watching strategically until the others were out of the way. He would wait for her to make the first move, he was the smart one.

She had come to the conclusion he would wait for her, so she turned to Din, seeing that he’d started to pick himself up, and gave him an order. “Take the child, and go.”

He was barely able to hold himself at a seating position, but he gave a nod, beginning to drag himself towards the bird cage sat in the corner atop a barrel.

Bo faced the man head on, taking one step, two, three, and then one more. She struck him hard in the shoulder, and he stumbled back, but didn’t fall. He came back at her with force, blocking her attempt at a kick and using her leg as momentum to send her into the wall. Her back hit the concrete hard, and she nearly lost the air from her lungs, but she wasn’t finished. He came closer, and she feigned lack of awareness long enough to get him right in front of her. From there she let the knee jerk upwards, kicking him between the legs and hearing him groan. He didn’t back off like she’d hoped, and grabbed her fists, holding her to the wall. He used his own knee as a way to mock her, jabbing into her stomach several times until she felt sick. She tried to bend over in hopes it would soothe the pain, but he grabbed her throat, pushing her against the wall once more and looking her straight in the eye.

“You’re weak now, just like you were then.”

And suddenly, the pressure on her throat was gone. The man in front of her stood still, his features becoming like ice, and then he fell to the ground. Bo took in a deep breath, leaning over like she’d intended to earlier. She saw the arrow that had pierced the back of the man before her, and looked up to see Mayfeld rushing to her aid while holding a cross bow. She had never been so grateful to see him.

“Are you alright?” He gave her a hand and helped her to stand straight, looking her over for any additional injuries.

“I’m fine,” she told him, squeezing his hand lightly to assure him what she said was true. “How’s the fight?”

“Bad… she’s losing.”

The last thing Mayfeld saw before coming to find Bo was you getting knocked down, unable to get up for the way Gideon stepped on your chest plate.

Bo looked to the end of the alley, seeing Din holding the child and barely beginning to hobble away. He used the wall to lean against, but she knew they could help him easier. She knew what they needed to do in order for the fight to be turned around.

“She needs to see him,” she muttered, taking steps towards the man as he barely turned the corner. “Hunter..”

He turned as quickly as he could, careful not to drop the kid in the process of doing so.

“Come with me,” she took the child from his hands, handing him off to Mayfeld who followed her over. “Can you walk?”

He tried to push himself away from the wall and take a step, but he nearly fell to his knees. His grunts of pain when Bo caught him meant he was injured to the point of being bed ridden. She hauled him back up, tossing his arm over her shoulder, and began to strong arm him towards the gate of the arena. Hoping that if she could just get him into your view, it would change the ending of this battle.

He groaned with every step they took, but didn’t complain, and kept on towards the entrance, hearing the loud echoes of cheers whilst the competitors fought to the death. He looked down the tunnel, and saw something he hoped he’d never see.

You were on the ground, back against the dirt, while Gideon knelt over top of you. His saber was so close to your face, you felt as if you might catch on fire. Your sword was the only thing standing in the way of your fast approaching death, and you knew you had nothing left in you. You would die at the hands of an evil man, one who may have killed the ones you love, one who abuses his power, and the people he’s supposed to care for.

You looked into his eyes, your scared expression was evident, and he reveled in it. To see the fear in your eyes before he killed you, it felt too good to be true. Everything he’d said and done before this fight was the reason it was going the way it had. You couldn’t focus your power enough to use it, and every time you tried, it only backfired on a worse attack towards you.

“You were my biggest foe, princess, a worthy opponent. I will remember you during the rest of my rule,” he leaned in closer, forcing his blade so close it singed the hair that had been sticking out of it’s binds. You’d lost your helmet about thirty seconds into the battle, and nothing was stopping him from running you through to the ground.

You closed your eyes, ready to except your fate…

“Mesh’la,” the whisper was not even heard aloud, but in your mind. Whatever power you still possessed in you was willing you to hear his words, spoken under his breath and practically into the void.

You opened your eyes, turning your head to catch the sight. The tunnel was opened, and hanging onto Bo Katan was your hunter, the one this was all about. He looked bruised and bloody, but he was here, and he was alive. Standing behind him was Mayfeld, who cautiously held onto your small green child, the one you’d been in companionship with for so long, now. They were both here, and you weren’t going to let them watch you get killed, not at the hands of this man.

Din wasn’t sure how, but he knew you had heard him.

You gathered all the strength in your body and pulled your legs in, kicking his body off of you and back several feet. He was quickly steadied again, as were you, but your stare was no longer afraid, it was determined. This was the gaze he’d been so frightened of before.

You lunged for him, swinging over your head and across your body, hitting his saber multiple times before he tripped and fell back on the ground. You used your power to pull the Dark Saber from his hands and into your own. He barely made it to his knees before you were stood over him, both blades crossed by his throat, waiting to behead him.

He looked up to you, speechless as to how you were able to accomplish this feat. He had always been arrogant, but pride comes before a fall, and his knees could attest to that.

“Last words?”

He swallowed in a shaky manner. Let it not be said that he would die with words unspoken… he’d rather not die at all.

“Allow me to make a deal on my surrender,” he pleaded, begging for the same chance he’d given Bo Katan all those years ago. He may have spared her life, but you weren’t thinking of being so kind in return. Of all the things he’d done, he deserved to die on this field.

You stood still for a moment, and pondered what your terms of a deal may be.

“I offer you two more days, of which you will be beaten until you cannot stand, and starved from any sustenance you may require… sundown on the second day you will be executed,” you stopped for a moment to see the look on his face become even more grim. The man was a shell of himself, and of that you were proud. “Death by hangman’s noose.”

It was comical, really. Two more days to live out the torture he’d put Din through, only to die anyways, in the same way he’d meant for Din to die. He was not going to be permitted to live, because even behind closed bars, he was dangerous… you also knew he would never accept the deal.

“If you will only mock me, do away with me, now.”

The famous last words of King Gideon the ruthless.

The blades crossed each other and slid with ease, ridding the world of the man who ruled this land with tyranny. You’d never killed anyone in your life, but this didn’t feel wrong, it felt empowering. You’d slain the enemy, just as the knights in your stories would slay dragons and viscous beasts that scoured the land.

You heard the crowd erupt once more, and a loud announcement, but you paid no mind to it. You began to run, your slight limp carrying you to the tunnel with which your hunter was waiting. He fell into your arms as Bo let go of his form, and though your strength was again wavering, you held him close as if he were the most important thing in the world. You were too worn to heal him for now, and you might be for a day or two, but you could spend that time taking care of him in other ways, simply being by his side and making sure he was there with you.

-

The light peering in through the window of the Queen’s suite was only bright enough to make a small beam that reflected onto the ground. It was early morning, but the sun rose earlier here than it did in other parts of the kingdom. The castle always saw the first light.

Din shifted uncomfortably in bed, his shoulders still being the sorest part of him. He was rather broad, like the west mountains that separated Mandalore from the hillside people of Nog. He was broad and strong, but he felt he was anything else at the moment. He tried to sit up, but a pain shot through him and he groaned.

That’s when he saw you, rushing to his aid from a lounge seat that you’d undoubtedly been sleeping on through the night. You gently grabbed his upper arm, trying to get him to lay back down.

“Easy, big guy,” you knew he was probably confused as to where he was, since he’d practically passed out on the horse ride back to the castle, and required major help in getting to your chambers. Everyone insisted he go back to his own, that others could care for him easily there, but you weren’t about to let him out of your sight as long as you could help it. You were a good care taker, yet only one could ever attest to that, and he didn’t talk. “You shouldn’t be up.”

“Did you sleep on the chair?” He responded almost immediately, though it was not what you were thinking he’d say. It was very much like him to be falling apart and in need of constant care, yet being too concerned for your own being to obey your directions. He sat straight up, looking to you for an answer.

“Yes, I wanted to be close to you.”

He furrowed his brow and reached out for you. It hurt the muscles in his body to do so, but he grabbed your hand anyways.

“Could have slept with me, Mesh’la,” he whispered just loud enough to hear, bringing your hand to his mouth for a kiss. You smiled at the gesture but shook your head.

“The physician told me you were not to be disturbed,” you sat down next to him, allowing yourself to disturb him only a little for the sake of your comfort, and the need to feel him beside you. “Everything that happened yesterday, and the day before… it’s almost impossible that you were able to make it out alive.”

“If your plan was to get rid of me, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

Your soft chuckle was music to his ears, as he’d not heard it in days, and thinking about it was one of the only things keeping him on his feet whilst all he wanted to do was fall. You gripped his hand that was holding yours, squeezing it once before letting go and beginning to get up.

“You should eat something,” you turned to him while pulling on a dressing robe, much thicker than the one you were used to. It would keep you warm until the sun had fully risen, as parts of the castle were freezing in the early morning. “I’ll be back.”

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, just as you had done a few nights prior. That night had been so beautiful, it only made sense that Gideon would have ruined it… but now he was gone for good, and no one would ever be disgraced by him again. You looked back to Din and saw the fave h was giving you. “Please.”

You were a victim of those brown eyes, you swore they’d be the death of you… and what a wonderful way to go. There was no way you’d ever deny him, not when he sat there on your bed, looking like the human personification of softness. You shrugged off your robe, laying it back over the chair it had been in earlier, and crossed the room to where he was sat. You threw up the sheets and blankets and crawled in beside him, laying down on the pillow and looking up at him.

He ran his fingers over the side of your face, tracing the outline of your cheek and jaw, finally reaching down to your neck. There was a burn scar forming there, not even an inch wide but evident enough to him.

“Pretty girl,” he muttered, thinking out loud. The words hit your ears and made you smile, which in turn spread a grin across his own face. He hadn’t kissed you since your shared dance on the cobblestones of the castle garden, and he felt he needed to. Leaning down the way he did should have hurt him tremendously, but something about the way your lips met his made all the pain subside. It was quick and gentle, but it sustained him.

You wished for more, but weren’t about to push your bounds, knowing he was definitely still in pain that he would never admit to.

He laid beside you and opened his arms for you to scoot in. It was very improper, for him to hold you this way and under the blankets of your own bed, but it was only you and him, and the door blocking you both from the outside world was not to be crossed by any means. Bo was taking care of everything in the Kingdom for now, as you’d asked her to do so until Din was on his feet. You were the Queen, now… though there was no official coronation, you were acting ruler of Mandalore. It would be a large responsibility, but you felt you were up to the task. Din knew this as well, for he saw the kindness of your heart and the goodness of your mind. All those years of innocence really shaped your outlook on the world, and you still beheld it with beauty. He only hoped that all the horrible things you’d been through wouldn’t give you a bitterness that may oppose your gentle spirit.

The sun kept rising, and the day began… but you and your hunter were tucked away from the busying kingdom, finding rest and comfort in each other after a trial of great proportions.

-

Tags: @i-ameri-cant@littlemisspascal@fanfics-toread@icanbeyourjedi@castleallherown@mysticalgalaxysalad @princess-prettyy @67impalagirl13@agingerindenial@childrenofthewatch@insomniac-nerd-posts-things@marjoherbo@juletheghoul-main@tiredbuthappy@themand0lorian@janebby@goldielocks2004@yuiopiklmn ​ @oh-no-who-am-i ​ @appleejuice ​ @luxmundee @belovedadam @seninjakitey ​@harriedandharassed @notsosecretspy

[topguncortez]

How I Met Your Mother- J. Machado

pairing: Javy "Coyote" Machado x Valerie "Val" Bates word count: 1.0k synopsis: the story of how Javy and Val met. Coyote & Val Masterlist | Opposites Attract Masterlist

“I am going to kill you,” Javy cursed as Jake was filling out the paperwork for him. He was sitting in a wheelchair in the waiting room of the hospital. What was supposed to be just a simple workout ended with Jake accidentally dropping a fifty pound plate on poor Javy’s foot. His foot had immediately swelled up and was now an angry purple and blue. 

“I already said I was sorry,” Jake said, “I got distracted.” 

“Clearly,” Javy rolled his eyes. Jake was expecting a call from his girlfriend who was over in Italy with her parents. He had been distracted since the day she left and Javy was counting down the days when she’d return. Javy loved Jake like a brother, he was his best friend, his wingman, but man, was he annoying when it came to missing Y/N. 

“Hey, don’t blame the lady,” Jake scolded. 

Javy chuckled and adjusted his position in the wheelchair. His butt was starting to hurt from sitting so long and waiting to be taken back, “I don’t blame her. Out of all the girls you have ever been with, I actually like Y/N. I hope you don’t screw this one up.” 

“You and me both,” Jake said, right as a nurse called out Javy’s name, “Want me to go with?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” Javy said as the nurse came and grabbed him, “Stay gold, Ponyboy.” 

“I'll never let go, Jack,” Jake smirked and gave Javy their ‘secret’ handshake before the nurse took him back. The nurse took him back to one of the exam rooms. 

“Valerie, will be in to see you soon,” The nurse explained and checked the IV in Javy’s arm, “Do you need anything?” 

“Can I get one of those warm blankets, please?” He asked and the nurse nodded, “Thank you.” 

Javy looked around the small exam room and noticed his x-rays were on display. He winced at seeing the clearly broken bones in his foot and hoped that this wasn’t going to take him out of flying for very long. He and Jake had just gotten back to Lemoore from TopGun school, and he wasn’t ready to be grounded just yet. Jake finished first in the class, and Javy finished second. They both had an opportunity to be instructors, and Javy almost did take it, but opted not to. He wasn’t ready to settle in his career yet. There were still missions to fly and places to see. 

He sighed and slunk down in his wheelchair, leaning his head back a bit and closing his eyes. He was exhausted. Usually by now on Saturday’s he was taking a nap after going to work out at the ass crack of dawn with Jake. He didn't understand why the man had to wake up at six on a Saturday to go the gym, but Jake said it was part of his routine. Javy almost dozed off as there was a knock on the door. He didn’t bother to sit up, thinking it was the nurse bringing him his warm blanket. But the second a young beautiful woman walked through the door, he was quickly pushing himself up and trying to look presentable. 

“Hello, I’m Valerie Bates, you must be Mr. Machado?” 

“I uh. . . y-yeah. I-I Javy,” He was mentally slapping himself. It was like every coherent thought had left his head. He suddenly forgot how to speak in the presence of a woman who was clearly a lot smarter than him. Valerie chuckled and sat down on a stool across from Javy. She signed into her laptop, looking over Javy’s case and pulling up his labs. 

“Well, good news is your foot is not broken, just a fracture,” Valerie said, “I think we can just fix it with a boot and rest.” She looked over at Javy and he just smiled. She raised her eyebrows like she was expecting him to say something. 

“You’re pretty,” Javy blurted. Valerie blushed and looked down at her laptop, “Oh my god, I am making a fool out of myself.” 

“It’s okay, Mr. Machado,” Valerie shook her head with a smile on her face, “It’s probably the pain meds in your body. But, I want to know your opinion on just doing a boot.”

“I’m a pilot,” Javy said, “How long will I be out if we do the boot?” 

Valerie looked at the x-ray, “I’m going to say eight to ten weeks. But, you’re young and if you do everything as I tell you, then it could be quicker.” 

Javy clenched his jaw. He thought of all the detachments, missions and possible deployments he would be overlooked because of the injury. He suddenly wanted to go through a fifty pound plate at Jake for causing this. It was as if Valerie could read his mind and moved a bit closer to him. 

“If you are worried about this affecting your career, it shouldn’t. I know eight to ten weeks sounds like a very long time, but it’ll go by pretty quickly. You need to be on total rest for the first two weeks, and then you can get back to working out and keeping yourself in flight shape.” 

Javy looked up at Valerie and noticed how beautiful her eyes were. They were like endless pools of honey with strands of gold mixed in them. She also smelled of lavender and vanilla, which reminded Javy of him of being home at his grandmother’s house. 

“You promise?” Javy asked, and Valerie smiled. 

“I promise,” She answered and then pushed herself back away from Javy, going back towards her computer, “Now, I will have the ortho tech come in and fit you for your boot, and I will have you follow up in four weeks.” She grabbed her laptop and stood up. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Javy asked, and moved as if he was going to stand up and then remembered that his foot was broken. 

Valerie furrowed her eyebrows, “I have other patients to see.” 

“But. . .” Javy was trying to think of something to say that wasn’t going to make him sound absolutely pathetic, but he could not think of a single thing except, “Will I see you again?” 

A smirk graced her lips, “In four weeks for your follow up. Have a good day, Mr. Machado.” Valerie walked towards the door and opened it but not before Javy called out. 

“It’s Coyote!” 

“Callsign?” Valerie asked. 

“Y-yeah,” Javy answered, “How did you know about-” 

“Have a nice day.” 

Javy sat there in awe as she walked out the door. He had talked to her for all of twenty minutes and was already so in over his head.

note: Sundays are Opposite Attract Days, so send in blurb ideas, asks, requests whatever you want! :)

[larcenywrites]

Pregnancy Headcanons

Tony Stark x Reader

Iron Man is a family man now! And his toughest battle yet is navigating parenthood while also juggling, like, the rest of the world. 

Warnings: Some swearing, explicit sexual reference right at the beginning but that's it, typical pregnancy references

Family Man Series: 1  2  3

💠This story probably starts after those three months he was missing in Afghanistan. After the shock of... everything wore off, and he was finally home and back in your arms...

💠you two fucked like rabbits. And with no regard as to when or where he was cumming.  

💠So it really wasn't a surprise when you woke up one morning throwing up into the toilet.

💠And you were a little mad that he wasn't there

💠Instead he was downstairs. Like he always was now. 

💠Oh, by the way: your Tony was now flying around calling himself Iron Man and making holes in the roof. And all he did was work on those damned suits and come home with a new bruise or two. 

💠You two have been fighting about it a little if it wasn't obvious. 

💠Anyway. You had that gut feeling, so after sneaking away to the store, and doing that whole process... you probably aren't sure what to feel when it's positive. You two have never talked about kids. Tony has never brought it up. He isn't really sociable with kids, and he never had any younger family members either

💠And now, with this whole Iron Man thing, the house was even less of a safe environment; he was always busy, always getting hurt. The list could go on...

💠You brace yourself as you head downstairs. Not just because you have no clue what his reaction may be but because you also have no idea what you're about to walk in on. Hell, he may not even be here at all!

💠He's right where you left him last night, in fact

💠And yes, you can see the hole in the wall.

💠"Tony, can we talk?" That certain tone in your voice has him whipping his head towards you, eyes wide. His already cluttered thoughts are racing now, and it doesn't help that you two have been fighting recently. Probably thinks you're about to leave him. As you're talking, he's busy preparing a speech. But then his brain starts catching up and processes a word you said like three sentences ago. 

💠"Wait," he interrupts you. "You're pregnant?" He looks at you so taken aback. Has he even been listening? "Like," he continues before you can, "with a baby?" It's your turn to stare at him, also taken aback. 

💠"I hope so?" you say slowly, sarcasm lacing your tone. 

💠His eyes search yours for a moment before something finally clicks behind them, and a big, dorky grin graces his cheeks. It's contagious. You finally allow yourself to feel happy about it, copying him in relief. He pulls you in with hands on your hips, suddenly all smug when he looks you up and down. 

💠"Well how did that happen?" 

💠Oh, he knows exactly how it happened. 🙄Low-key proud of himself.

💠Jokes that you're now obligated to call him daddy. Well... "Jokes"

💠 "How are my babies doing?" is a common greeting

💠Tony is… a little disappointed when he goes with you to get that first ultrasound to make sure you're actually pregnant and all. Doesn't know how fetuses work, so he fr was expecting some semblance of a baby at only seven weeks

💠It's mostly just a blob still 😐

💠But, Tony, it's our blob! 😌

💠When you start showing, he... actually starts to freak out because now this suddenly feels a lot more real and it's happening quick. It's not just lines on a stick or a black-and-white picture anymore; it's there and it's growing. He only has like 5 months to prepare for something he's never put much thought into

💠"What if I'm not good at it?" He asks you one night. At first you think he's joking or is just getting a little worried, but he's looking at you like he's about to cry

💠There are going to be a few nights like this. Just hold him and tell him he's going to be okay. 

💠God, he's so in love with you ❤️

💠Mommy 

💠Even so, the fighting doesn't stop. You need him here--both of you-- and he's still spending the majority of his days downstairs and out there doing... what? Fighting crime? Like Batman? The only reason you were so rude about it was thanks to a grand mix of wild hormones and worry. But it doesn't matter how many times you fight and forgive because nothing ever changes, and he still leaves for days at a time. 

💠You were convinced that baby knew when dad was and wasn't home, and sometimes it definitely felt like your little Stark was throwing a tantrum over it when Tony was gone (but so were you, so maybe they just picked up on it). 

💠Sorry if you wanted it to be a surprise, but Tony is deadset on finding out the gender and you know he won't be able to keep it a secret. 

💠No, it doesn't matter, but for the most part, every father wants a son, ya know? So he's pretty excited when it's a boy

💠Which means you'll get to deal with two Tonys trying to burn the house down! And Tony has his mini-me to do it with!

💠Every time you hurry to grab Tony's hand to feel the baby kicking, he stops. Or sometimes you can feel it, but he can't. He's pretty sad about it for a while, until one day when he goes to kiss your tummy and gets kicked in the mouth. Didn't hurt, but it did scare the light out of him. 

💠More often than not, your belly gets hugs and kisses first when he gets home. You're pretty sure baby is suddenly kicking his dad because he wants personal space. Maybe you should start doing that too

💠Tony will say some pretty rude things without meaning for them to be rude. Things like, "that can't be healthy for either of you" when you're having weird food cravings. Well, he said it once. Let's just say that now he gets you whatever you want, when you want it. 

💠Sometimes you google things like, when does this organ fully develop? or whatever, just to brag that you're growing a human.

💠"I grew a brain today."

💠"It's about time." 💀

💠Terrified that you're going to go into labor before your due date and Tony won't be here.

💠You're both relieved when you do make it to your due date and are induced at the hospital. He spent so much time worrying about it, and now he's just so relaxed. Until he's reminded within the next few hours that this is not at all over, and now you're really starting to hurt his hand.

💠He's never been more relived to hear a baby crying at the top of their lungs. And suddenly he's cutting the umbilical cord, and then suddenly his baby has bounced between like three different people and now you have him

💠He's almost afraid to hold his son, but you're falling asleep and looking at him so expectantly, so he doesn't really have much choice but to take him off your hands

💠Can't stop smiling. This is the same tiny human that was kicking him in the face last week! And now he's here in his arms! 

💠This was his love and his legacy, and he has... 

💠No idea how to raise a kid. Oh god, oh fuck. 

💠Has to remind himself that you're going to be with him every step of the way. But now you're asleep, and the baby is about to cry, and now he's panicking! Guess you weren't going to be here for this step. 

💠Sits down and gets comfortable because the night still isn't over and he's already struggling

💠Suddenly realizes that he's exhausted. Wait, when was the last time he slept? He should've went ahead and caught back up on that, huh?

💠This was already off to a rocky start, but, hey, it was his rocky start :)

Family Man Series: 1  2  3

Alternate pregnancy plot if you’re interested