#couple of choices I make here will probably ruffle some feathers

[ahgasegotarmy116]

hi 😊 me again so difh hmm 🤔where do i start I don't think oc is even 49% not culprit she 100% guilty. She has her flaws as a sweet person bt nah nah he did not come across initially as that manipulative. She just wanted to unconsciously 1) save her marriage with a kid (things did seem to be going in troubled waters due to prolonged distress with the og couple) & 2) not ruffle any feathers with him incase he gets too angry with them and cuts them off financially soso ------ There's no way someone says just that and I'll be opening my legs sir you'll be eating with a straw for a long long time 🍼🧊

Also my heart doesn't believe for a second jk is not hitting a younger escort/clg gal at side for no strings emergency service hotline. He totally seems the type and He's emotionally invested in OC at this point there's a huge difference in the highs he gets from both🌶☕

and i love you but i don't think for a second anyone's getting divorce or therapy in that household for a long time. There's no way he'll LET og couple divorce split custody AND LET EVERYONE IN SOCIETY KNOW he fathered 2 kids. It's neither going to be a public thing nor is it going to feature even in hush hush high society gossip radar. 🧐🤣🤣

They'll be caught soon by the husband with how sloppy jk is bt i just don't see any open clear air or therapy or new beginning for the son. Jk's the kind to rub his disability in his face both bodywise, familywise and workwise (like plz how do u come home and tell ur papa i missed my impy flight, are u like 5?? call ur fucking secretary arrange charter plane, reach that fucking meeting in style) how son's so deficient at everything he HAD to make new heirs who are more great like him (can u imagine though if kids especially the boy turns to be 100% jk) he doesn't shows those murderous symptoms but you never know with the kind of psychopath jk is his son might even be in a car crash 😉😉 and then starts the court drama of oc trying to leave but this is fucking Korea and he's richie rich. Hell probably even house her in his mansion and adopt kids as his heirs legally all the while abusing her in private (hiding initially and then in front of his wife) while cashing on brownie points from public. (Maybe even OC was pregnant with their 3rd kid) such sadness on the family and the new kiddo who never got to meet his daddy 🥲🥲

My heart feels for OC though the mental stress she's constantly under and it's good that this is a fic atleast here things can end with her leaving bit i fr don't think she CAN leave EVER if u think about it realistically. She's trapped for life and he's hooked for life on her (third time's the charm😇)

Now I'll completely understand if u dint reach to the bottom of this kyle richards style msg but i have a couple of scenarios do u care that i share?? In the next one they are😊

Hey so I really do appreciate the analysis of the story but in your previous ask telling me or any writer "you're wrong" about their own story or that they're not being they're not "Think(ing) about it realistically" when it come to some of the choices made comes off as extremely rude.

I think/hope you didn't mean it that way so please try to figure out a way to reword that statement. You said "I don't think" or something to that equivalent throughout this whole ask and you are totally entitled to think anything you would like about anything but saying things like "I love you but..." in any context is very hurtful since it's showing your love is conditional.

You can totally give constructive criticism and I'm not super pressed about what you said but I would just say for future reference just because you think something should go one way or was the wrong decision doesn't mean you were right and the person who created the story and put time and effort into releasing it for free is wrong.

At the end of the day the writer has the last say and it's their story. Only they know the full details and true thoughts and feeling of their character and what they would or wouldn't do.

Imagining the story going a different way is fine but maybe keep those thoughts and feelings to yourself if you're telling them that they've made multiple wrong choices throughout the story.

Now I'll start responding to your analysis

I do agree that she is 100% in the wrong and she never said she wasn't in the wrong. In Drabble 1 she admitted to herself "I've backed myself into a corner, and there really is no one else to blame but myself. Jungkook might've pressured me into this but the choice was ultimately mine, and I chose wrong" so she knows that she fucked up.

This might've not been something that you read or noticed but she does think about these things and has been for years. Sometimes it's easy to put the blame on someone else so it would be seen that way but she is self aware it's just hard for her to have Jungkook around and throwing things in her face.

He might've seemed very manipulative at the beginning but he caught her at a time where she was feeling vulnerable and desperate and so people sometimes don't make the best decisions when they're in that sort of headspace and Jungkook knew that and used it to his advantage.

She didn't make those decisions "unconsciously" because she knew exactly why she said yes and therefore knew that although this wasn't the right thing to do it would be the easiest way for everyone to get what they wanted. And just like the title of part three says "I Did It For You" and thought of how much pressure this would take off of him.

Although people might've been able to say no to him some people might've said yes. There were multiple factors to this story and sometimes people aren't as strong willed as some others are. She's all talk at this point because of the fact that she doesn't want her husband to find out.

Not because of the fact that she doesn't want people to know what she's done (ofc that is a factor in it) but because she really truly does love her husband and she knows just how much this will shatter him and she doesn't want to see that happen and that's why it went on for so long.

People think differently and that's what makes life and stories more interesting because if we all thought and felt the same way then things wouldn't be all that interesting and very predictable.

I mean he definitely gets hit on and flirts with other women but he does have self control. In Drabble 1 he says "Darling it's your fault, you've ruined sex for me with other women. Nothing about them compares to you" so he doesn't find pleasure in it anymore because he's 1) obsessed with her and 2) obsessed with the power trip and how he can have her as much as he wants as long and she still wants to keep this all a secret.

Like you said he's emotionally invested in oc and so he feels like theres' no point if it's not with her.

In terms of divorce there's no real reason why anyone with need to know that he's the father. It might be something that comes out later but as far as the public knows he's still just their grandfather.

There are a lot of dirty secrets in high society that no one finds out about and couples get divorced all the time and it's not seen as uncommon these days so it's not taboo.

Plus the secret could still come out whether she was still married to her husband or not. The people that she wanted to keep the secret from already know so she doesn't care if it goes to the press if that's the only way to get away from them.

If anything that would be the best way that she could get her revenge and Jungkook at that point would see the divorce as necessary because what person in their right mind would go around keeping the family together once everyone knows the truth.

Oc doesn't want revenge though because she's not like that and she wants to keep her kids out of the press as much as possible and doesn't want people to treat them any differently.

Will it put a ding in the families reputation if she tells everyone? Sure but Jungkook doesn't have the power to nor have the desire to stop the divorce. Jungkook's manipulation stops when he loses oc.

He's not someone who wants to get revenge on someone in this situation because although he lost her, this is something he's always gonna be able to hold over her head and that's humiliation enough.

No one needs to LET oc do anything because this isn't the dark ages and woman decide what they can and cannot do. He wouldn't lock her in a dungeon and hold her captive because if he did then her mother in law would be the one to go to the press.

Her mother in law is actually very understanding and keeps in contact with oc throughout all of this. Even though what oc did was majorly fucked up her mother in law knows Jungkook and what he's capable of and understands why she did it.

Although you think they'll get caught by the husband that's not what happens.

It might be seen that in that situation her husband was being irresponsible but people make mistakes plus he was being run ragged and this time he didn't want to put in the effort to make things right even though he knew there would be consequences.

He honestly saw this as a way he could majorly fuck up so Jungkook would stop making him go on so many trips. Like who wouldn't be upset that he has to leave his wife and kids all the time? He truly loves them and wants to be there for them all the time and be there for those important milestones.

This was a way to kind of push back and wanted to seem like he was incompetent and that Jungkook needed to find someone else to do that kind of work for him. Someone who might be seen as more capable and qualified. It didn't end up working out that was because Jungkook just assigned an additional colleague to help him so it wouldn't happen again.

It's not his son's fault that he couldn't have kids so let's just get that part out of the way. Just because one slip up was mentioned doesn't mean that that's how he handles things all the time. The reason why he's sent on all of these trips is because he's successful and does convince a lot of clients to sign.

It would be way too suspicious to everyone in the company and be way to obvious and confusing to her husband if he was shit at his job was still was sent to go take care of extremely important matters and sign big clients pretty much monthly in most cases. Like he would give the company a horrible reputation if he was that "so deficient at everything"

Creating heirs is important for a corporate family so it wouldn't have mattered if his son was competent or incompetent, it's something that needed to happen anyways. Of course you want your heirs to be better. Who would want to hand over your legacy to someone who can't do their job or improve upon the company? The goal is to make things bigger and better so therefore you need your successors to be better than the one that came before him.

Saying that Jungkook would go so far as to murder someone does not match his character at all. He's manipulative and if he had those murderous tendencies he definitely would've made that known and gotten his son out of the way a long time ago.

No Jungkook's youngest son won't be like him. Just like Jungkook's first son his mother will be raising him right so that won't be happening. He's more or the artsy easy going, kind hearted type of guy but he will put on that suit and tie and take over the company when the time comes if his sister doesn't want the company instead.

That situation is something that you're allowed to make up ofc but as the writer I can tell you that that doesn't happen. It would be crazy but it doesn't fit well with the storyline and no theres no possibility of a third child.

She realistically CAN leave and she DOES but she knows full well that she'll still have dealings with the family since she does indeed have 50/50 custody of the children.

Again I appreciate the analysis but next time think about the way that you're phrasing things and just because you think something is wrong doesn't mean that it is. We're all entitled to our own opinion but telling the writer of the story that they wrote it wrong is majorly disrespectful.

I feel like you were creating a whole different story with the way you were talking about it 🤷🏻‍♀️

[7deadlycinderellas]

The Starks at War

(aka, I am a huge ww2 nerd, and you all will suffer for it)

Ao3 link

Truthfully, it must be said, that Winterfell had seen better days.

The once huge estate no longer provided any income of it's own. The grounds were cut when the council bought off the land to put a road through behind the house. The house was still grand, the gardens still it’s Lady’s pride and joy. The Lord of the house now owned a hand tool factory down the road, and the Lady oversaw a staff of only a cook and two maids (plus the children’s tutors of course, and Old Nan, who nursed the youngest). Even the stable of horses had been replaced by a motorcar.

The Starks themselves too, had known loss. Eddard Stark, only a second son, had not known he would inherit, until the loss of his brother in the Great War. His fiery sister Lyanna too, lost her life only a few years later, poisoned by the munitions factory where she worked to serve her country.

But it was clean, and well kept, and the Lord and Lady kept up appearances.

And the Stark children, it must be said, loved the place. The summer times they all spent on their families lands may well have been paradise to all of them.

Robb, the eldest of them, got his driving license that summer. Ned Stark spent most of the summer in London, leaving Robb to take the car down to the village where it attracted the attention of men and women alike. He would be going to university come autumn, and was appreciating his final months of freedom.

A word must be also spared for the children’s cousin Jon. Raised as their brother after his mother’s untimely death, he was often spoken about in hushed tones for the truth of his illegitimate birth. Though the Starks had planned to provide for his education as they had for their own children, his own pride led to him deciding against university, and spending his summer working for the newspaper office in the village.

Sansa, the eldest daughter, had returned home from boarding school. She had come bursting with stories of her classmates, who came from families older and more important than the Starks, who lived on huge country estates and gave her stories of grand parties and great romances. And if she spent most of her summer in the window seat of the parlour, reading paperbacks and writing letters, she was no less happy for it.

Arya Stark’s summer holidays were spent much the same as the rest of her year, though without her being scolded for trying to dodge her lessons.  Earlier that year, she had received a bicycle for her birthday, and it carried her more days than not into the village. Far less touched by her mother’s concerns of propriety, Arya had many friends there, and carried back with her dime novels and packs of sweets. On her other days, she climbed over the rock wall marking the end of their estate into the land owned by their neighbors, the Reeds, such as it was, and joined the two children there in climbing the trees and swimming in the pond that was all that remained of their land.

In fact, it was Arya and the older Reed girl, Meera, who had a special project that summer: to get Arya’s younger brother Bran out of the house more.

Before the coming storm, it would have been said that the greatest tragedy to befall Winterfell that generation would have been Brandon Stark’s fall. An active and athletic child, at the age of ten, Bran had taken a bad fall from one of the manor’s windows. The injury had truly in the grand scheme of things, not been terrible. Bran could still bend at the hips and partially straighten his right knee, but both legs were left incredibly weak, and the left one nearly completely numb.

That had been two years ago, and the boy had resigned himself to spending most of his summer days sitting in his room reading or listening to plays on the wireless. Sometimes he would sit with Old Nan and Rickon, and listen to their stories, but he felt far too old for it now.

Neither Arya or Meera could stand for this.

So, one warm day in July, the two girls approached him when he was in the parlor, reading a book.

Both of them have their arms crossed, and Bran isn’t sure what’s going on.

“Come with us, we’re going swimming.”

Bran looks his sister up and down. She might have been wearing cast off work trousers of Jon’s and an old jersey with her hair in rough plaits, but she looks completely serious and at that moment, has a definite air of authority.

“I’m reading.”

Arya looks at him like he’s grown a second head.

“You can do that outside. Come one, you’ve been inside nearly the whole year, you look like a fish’s belly.”

And she isn’t wrong, so Bran decides to give in.

Admittedly, being in the sun again is nice. The window can only let in so much. The day is rather hot, and the water will be nice. The stone path leading out from the house is easy enough for him to push the wheels of his wheelchair on, though when they cut off onto the grass, it takes more effort.

“What are you reading now?” Meera asks him cheerfully, “Burroughs again?”

The last time Meera had come by, Bran had been finishing the Land that Time Forgot. He had enjoyed it, but ultimately preferred Conan Doyle’s take on a lost prehistoric world.

He shakes his head.

“Wells this time.”

“Island of Doctor Moreau?” Arya interjects, “If so, give it back, I didn’t finish.”

“War of the Worlds. It’s that one that was on the radio in America last year and made everyone think it was real.”

Arya wrinkles her nose. “Jon said that was bunk, made up to make newspaper seem better than radio.”

“I suppose Jon might know, working at the paper.” Jon had often told them that the men who ran the news office were a bunch of stodgy, stuffed shirts, who seemed to think they knew more than him simply by virtue of his age.

“Well it’s a good book either way.” Bran insists.

They’ve reached the end of the Starks land, marked with a low stone wall just above knee high. It’s easy to just step over. Just one more of the easy things rendered impossible to Bran now.

Arya looks at Meera,

“You take the top, I’ll get his feet. “

And suddenly, Meera steps up onto the wall and grasps Bran under the arms and hoists him in time with Arya lifting him up by his pasty, atrophied legs.

“Did you two practice this?” Bran asks grouchily, feeling rather like a slab of meat.

“You’re not that much different than moving a log.”

That’s not really any better, Bran thinks, when Arya sets him on the ground and moves to drag his chair over and help him back into it. He wishes the back of the device wasn’t so high. If it were lower, he might be able to drag himself over the wall like he does from the window seat. But he was already lucky that it was light weight and metal and not one of the huge wooden monstrosities he had seen when he woke in the hospital after his fall.

When they reach the edge of the pond, Bran slides himself out of his chair carefully, settling himself under one of the tall trees close to the water’s edge. He pulls off his shoes and socks, letting his lower legs float into the water, even though only righty appreciated it. Arya had been right, it was a good enough place to read a book.

The pond was large for a pond, feeding into one of the streams that led to the canals through the south. Good fish could still often be fished from it, and it was more than deep enough in the middle for swimming to be a bit dangerous.

Arya seemingly paid no heed to this, as she stripped off to the swimming costume she had on under her trousers beside the tree. She then climbed one of the branches that hung over the water to its end, and did a cannonball.

Meera goes back to the house and returns with a pole and line. She rolls up her trouser legs before taking a seat on a log near Bran and casting out her line.

“What’s happening now?” She asks Bran, gesturing at the book in his hand.

“A bunch of ships with people on them are fleeing the Martian tripods, so one of the Navy’s ships rams it so it the people can get away.’

“Do you think they’ll make it?”

Arya pops her head up out of the water,

“Doubt it, the Martians have heat rays.”

“Don’t give it away!” Bran says petulantly. This was another of the books he’d filched from Arya’s shelf, that consisted nearly entirely of science fiction and pulp adventures, to her governess’s despair. Arya had once told him they had contained all the adventures she was never going to get to have.

“Just saying, the narrator is just a journalist, and the tripods are enormous.”

That’s what made the story so good, Bran thought. It shouldn’t be very long, yet there’s still half a book left.

Not too much later, Meera’s brother Jojen sticks his head out the house.

“Mum asked if you all want sandwiches.”

“Tell her yes,” Meera calls back, and Jojen disappears inside.

Arya swims up to the edge and crawls out of the water onto the shore.

“Isn’t he coming out too?”

Meera’s gazing back at the house with a distant look in her eye.

“He had another seizure this morning, and was out of it for a while. Mum’s taking him to the doctor’s tomorrow to see if his medicine needs adjusting.”

Ah. Though most in the village had come to understand Jojen’s condition, Bran had come to feel kinship with the other boy’s vulnerability. Lady Reed had been a school teacher before she’d wed, and taught him at home before the doctor’s had been able to keep from having the fits anymore. Him and his sister both attended the village school now.  

Jojen does join them when he returns with lunch, sitting between Bran and Meera on the dirt.

“What are you going to do now that you’re done with school?” Arya asks Meera idly, still chewing on a tough bit of green.

“Get a job I suppose. Father says one of the sailing clubs down at the marina needs someone to handle registrations and paperwork. Though I’m not eighteen until November.”

“That would just drive me mad. “ Arya responds, “All day, just seeing all the boats go in an out but being stuck in a little box.”

Meera shugs, “I don’t think I’d mind.”

“Not holding out to get swept up by some handsome Duke at a ball somewhere?” Jojen asks with a smirk.

Bran hides his face. He’s always known Meera was pretty- even if the other boys in the village didn’t appreciate her- but in the past year looking at her has made him feel like he was taking another long fall.

Meera laughs him off, “If the boys weren’t interested in me at school, they won’t be interested at the balls I won’t go to.”

The balls and derbies and garden parties that make up the London social season. They had never been something that interested Bran or Arya in the least. Mother occasionally spoke of the ones she had attended as a girl, and Robb had gone to the Windsor horse show as a guest of a school friend, but Father had expressed more than a bit of disdain at the opulence in the wake of the slump. The world was changing, he said, and they ought keep up.

It was not something the Reeds would have ever been able to take part in. While they maintained what remained of their family’s land, and kept the title, the only thing resembling a fortune they had was Howland Reed’s Navy pension and his earnings from his current role as the harbourmaster.

“Sansa sure won’t shut up about it though,” Arya comments.

God above, that was true.

Sansa had pled to be allowed to go to boarding school for her last few years of secondary education, and Ned and Catelyn had reluctantly agreed. While they indeed missed their eldest daughter, her education was important to them, and Cat in particular had recognized that Sansa, a social butterfly, would blossom surrounded by other girls of her station.

And blossom she had.

Sansa had left for school with a neat red braid, a pressed uniform, and a head full of dreams. She returned home with her hair pinned up, a purse full of smuggled make up, and dozens of tales of party invitations on the weekends.

Right now, she was at the table in the dining room with her mother. Having finished her lunch, she was writing to Margaery Tyrell, her house’s head girl, and one of the closest friends she had made during the year.

“Have you gone into the village to visit Jeyne yet?” Catelyn asked.

She had not. Jeyne Poole was the daughter of a man Ned had once employed who now ran a shop in town. Jeyne had before this year, been Sansa’s dearest friend.

“No, Mother. It’s just- I worry we won’t have anything in common anymore having been apart for a whole year.”

This was a half truth. It is what Sansa thought when she pondered her magical year away at school and tried to fit. Giggly Jeyne, who was so frightened of mice and snakes, and dreamed of one day being a film star, just seemed so far away from the sophistication she had come to know.

“You should go see,” Catelyn says, smiling, but firmly. “Pack a picnic and sit somewhere. I’m glad you’re so happy at school, but you musn’t forget your old friends, or where you came from. Winterfell may not be as grand as where your school friends live, but it is still your home.”

Sansa tried not to wrinkle her nose, but she takes her mother’s advice. The next day, Cook helps her pack a basket and she dons a straw hat and walks to the village and finds Jeyne getting her hair set in the beauty shop, and they share lunch on a bench in the park.

“At least without you around, there were a lot more boys paying attention to me,” Jeyne tells her, taking a sip from her bottle of cordial.

Sansa laughs.

“Oh forget about these village boys. I met so many lovely young men at school.”

Sansa tells her about Margaery’s brother Loras, with his golden curls, who was planning to study at Cambridge. Of Joffrey Baratheon, who had such a lovely face and was of such a good family. Even of Joffrey’s uncle Jamie, who was captain of football at their school, and such a good player, his feats were still spoken of to this day. He had joined the army after graduation, and the girls at the school whispered breathily of his exploits.

“Oh it sounds so wonderful,” Jeyne sighs, “I wish I could move to London, that’s where all the fancy people live. I would love to go to a ball or a tea party, instead I’m stuck here.”

Sansa purses her lips. The girls she went to school with were girls with estates, and titles. Little Myrcella Baratheon was even the daughter of a Duke. Truly, she did not believe any of them would invite a girl such as Jeyne to any of their occasions, but she can’t tell her that.

The potential awkwardness of the discussion is brought to an end by the honk of a car horn coming down the street.

Robb sticks his head out of the window and waves to them.

Jeyne hastily fixes her hat while waving back.

“How is your brother doing now? Any of those high-class ladies catch his eye?”

“Robb still has university to finish, I don’t imagine he’ll think of marrying at least until he’s graduated. I think he’s just having fun now, he’s probably driving out to visit Theon.”

Theon had been raised among the Stark’s as a child. Son of another man who Ned had known in the service, he had fostered the boy as both a gesture of goodwill, and a protection from the harsh reality that his life would be up in the industrial north. Now nearly twenty, Theon had moved out of Winterfell and taken a job at the dockyard.

He had already gone out there today though, in fact he was actually on his way home when he drove past Sansa and Jeyne.

A bit down the road, he also passed Arya.

“Want a lift?” He asks, head stuck out the window.

Arya waves him off.

“I still want to go by the newsstand, I told Bran I’d bring him the newest Strange Tales.”

Robb pulled on past her, and Arya stepped back on her bike and kept going.

She’d only gone out today because Jon had forgotten his lunch, but it was a good enough excuse.

Gendry had worked the newsstand for Mr. Dondarrion since he had left school two years ago. Initially, he had tried to dodge Arya as she pawed through the stacks, interrogating him about the contents of all the pulps. He seemed to have gotten more used to her in recent times though, and often would offer her recommendations.

After plucking Strange Tales, she turns to him.

“Anything else good?”

After a moment’s thought, Gendry passes her a copy of Astounding Science Fiction.

“There’s one in there about an alien. Incredible. “

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

When he rings her up, and takes her pocket money, he asks.

“So how’s it all go for the Starks up upon the hill?”

Arya makes a face.

“There’s no hill, the land here is flat.”

“It’s a figure of speech.”

He had always been like this, ever since he found out her father was Lord Stark. It used to make him wary of her, now he seemed just to take the opportunity to tease her.

She shrugs.

“Most of the same. Sansa chattering on about school, me trying to drag Bran out more. Robb keeps driving places and still won’t teach me.”

“I’m with you, I’d love to learn to drive. Thought about going down to the next town, see if I can find a job working on them.”

Arya’s stomach twists at the thought of him not being in the village anymore.

“You won’t do it will you?”

Gendry makes a soft noise, and tugs his cap a little lower on his head. He puts his elbows on the counter and rests his chin on his hands.

“I don’t know. It would be a great opportunity. A chance to leave,” he gestures at the quiet street in front of him, “all of this.”

Arya’s in a bad mood the entire ride home. She tries not to agree with Gendry. The village was tiny. The shops, a newsstand, the post office, the newspaper, the church. That was mostly it. She’d often had the same sort of thoughts herself.

Much of the summer passes in the same fashion.

Bran turns thirteen in August. When asked what he wants for his birthday, he says,

“I just want Father home, he’s always gone for it. “

“Alas your father still has social obligations in London.”

Catelyn too, wished he could return, but some courtesies must be observed, no matter how much she missed her husband.

Bran sighs, he really should have known better by now.

“A new sketchbook would be good too.”

He gets the book, and spends much of the remains of the month by the pond with Meera and Jojen. He draws planes that he’s seen in magazines, and newspapers, or the few that fly overhead.

“I wish I could be a pilot.” He tells Jojen one day.

“I used to want to be one too.” Jojen admits.

“I guess neither of us are ever going to fly.”

It wasn’t fair, he thought, that the both of them were stuck grounded.

One day, Sansa peeks her head into Arya’s room.

“Can you come to Jeyne’s with me today?”

“Why?” Arya asks, confused. Sansa’s sudden appearance in her room was unusual enough. The two girls were not close, and Arya had often been pleased that they didn’t have to share a room like some of the girls she knew in the village.

“I’m going to cut my hair.”

That was a bit surprising. Sansa had always been so proud of her long, smooth, Tully red hair, so much like Mother’s.

“Why do you need me for that?”

“I’m worried I might chicken out.”

Well that at least made sense.

Jeyne’s aunt Ellyn did hair out of the family’s parlour. When Sansa was sitting in the chair, with Ellyn washing, combing, then snipping at her long hair, Arya would have swore her sister was in pain. But, Sansa insisted that long hair was terribly old fashioned, and she’d even seen pictures of Lady Lannister, Duchess of Casterly Rock, with her hair bobbed. When Ellyn’s done, Sansa shakes her head in amazement,

“My head feels so light!”

Looking at her sister, Arya has a queer notion.

“Can you do mine too?”

Both are a touch worried when they come back home that night. Sansa rides on the handlebars of Arya’s bike, like she had done with Robb when they were young children, and Arya felt for once like they might really be sisters.

When Catelyn sees them, she reaches out to touch the shorn ends of Sansa’s hair.

“I can show you how to set it properly later.”

Then she moves on to Arya’s.

“Did they use the hedge clippers on yours?”

But the cut proves very practical the next week, when Catelyn enlists her to help her dig up and move several of the rose bushes in the garden. It stayed out of her face, and reduced the sweat on her neck.

Ned returns to Winterfell near the end of the month. The only one not home when he comes is Jon, who’s working late.

When Jon returns home, only Ned is still in the parlour.

Happy to see his uncle, Jon moves to embrace him.

“Any particular reason your superiors kept you from my homecoming?”

Jon laughs, but he looks a bit uneasy.

“We had to run an extra edition. Thorne got word in last minute, Hitler has invaded Poland.”

Ned sighs deeply.

He stays up later than the others, alone in his study.

It would be a lie if he said he hadn’t felt the waves coming in in the past few years. Ned had served in the Navy during the Great War, and though he had had more than enough of war, he knew what he heard.

Jon stayed up that night too, switching through channels on the wireless, nearly all dead. He was in a unique position compared to the rest of the family, and wasn’t sure what he should say, if anything.

The next day is chaos, with Sansa packing to return to school, Bran and Arya having to be coerced into restarting their lessons, and Robb preparing to leave for university. Ned and Jon barely had time to think about anything.

September 3 was set to be their last breakfast all together. Sansa was nibbling at her eggs, which she swore the school cooks could not make as good. Arya was shoveling down her porridge so she would have enough energy to make a break for it after. Bran appeared to be attempting to demonstrate something to Robb using bit of his bacon as his models. Rickon had somehow already gotten jam smeared on him.

And Cat was watching Ned, with a smile on her face.

Jon didn’t usually turn on the wireless during breakfast, but he’d had an impulse that day. One that turned out to be prudent.

A hand reaches out and turns the volume nod, and the voice of the Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain is head:

“I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany.”

The speech continues, but one by one, every face at the table freezes.

Ned feels something deep in his gut begin to ache. He hopes he can remember this breakfast as it is.

[thatfanficstuff]

Not About You - 10

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x ofc

Warning: mentions of torture and death, nothing beyond canon; school dance.

A/N: This is a bit of a filler but necessary.

When Lucy woke, she found herself back in the car still wearing Damon’s jacket. She blinked away the sleep. “Where are we?”

Damon glanced over. “Hello, sleeping beauty. We’re a couple hours from home.”

She groaned as she stretched. “So, what’s the plan when we get back?”

He tapped the steering wheel with his thumbs. “Well, I feel like I would have noticed a grimoire tucked amongst the books in our library. I know several of the founder’s kept journals, if we can find some from that time maybe it will tell us something about Emily and what happened to her things when they killed her.”

“I assume we won’t find those just laying around either.”

He huffed a laugh. “Probably not, no.”

She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her notifications. “Elena gave Caroline a vervain necklace but didn’t tell her anything about it. Stefan’s not sure if he’s happy Elena can keep her mouth shut or angry that she’s not warning Caroline.”

“What’s up with that?” Damon asked.

Lucy arched a brow. “With what?”

“Stefan and Caroline.”

She shrugged. “Not sure. They’ve been spending a lot of time together though. She’s an infinitely better choice than Elena. I can’t imagine him going much longer without telling her the truth.”

“Why don’t we just take out an ad in the paper?”

“Stop it. I like Caroline. Compel Elena and Bonnie to forget.”

“Wait. Bonnie knows, too?”

“Mm-hmm. Elena told her after the whole possession thing.” Lucy put her feet up on the dash. “That makes me, Zach, Bonnie, Elena and Jeremy that know.”

Damon reached over and shoved her feet down. “And soon to be Caroline.”

Lucy put her feet back up as Damon signaled to take the next exit.

“Feet down or give me back my jacket.”

She stuck her tongue out at him but dutifully returned her feet to the floor.

Fortunately, Stefan knew precisely where their father’s journal was. Damon wasn’t sure it would tell them anything, but it was a place to start. And it helped smooth the ruffled feathers from when Damon found out Stefan gave the compass to Elena. It was technically hers anyway, but that was beside the point.

Currently, Lucy was laying on the sofa with her feet on Damon’s lap while they took turns reading the journal. It was boring and hard to read so they were sharing their suffering. Stefan appeared in the doorway drawing her attention.

“Where are you off to?” she asked.

“Decade dance.” He turned back and forth showing her his outfit for approval.

“Looking sharp, Salvatore. Who are you taking?” She kept her fingers crossed that he would say Caroline.

“I’m escorting Caroline and Elena actually.” Lucy frowned and he held up his hands. “Don’t ask me. They’re the ones that came up with that plan.”

“Well, have a good time,” she said with a wave and watched him walk away.

He hadn’t been gone very long when Damon and Lucy heard a phone ringing that belonged to neither of them. Stefan’s cell phone laid on a table on the other side of the library.

Lucy answered it. “Stefan’s phone.”

“It’s Elena. Where is he?”

“On his way to yours. Forgot his phone.”

The girl breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. This compass was going nuts but he must be here. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Lucy had barely gotten settled when Damon’s phone rang. He frowned at the display then answered. “Yeah?” He listened for several beats. “We’ll be right there.”

He patted Lucy’s legs. “Let’s go, Williams. Little Miss Elena just got attacked. Grab your gear.”

“Of course, she did,” Lucy muttered. She equipped her wrist stakes and followed Damon out to his car.

When they arrived at Elena’s, Stefan filled them in. Apparently, the Gilberts were in the habit of randomly inviting pizza delivery people into their house and one happened to be the vampire that was after Elena. Lucy wasn’t sure how this was her problem exactly, but Stefan wanted their help so she’d give it.

“So let me get this right,” Lucy said as she followed Damon to the car so they could head to the dance. “We’re going to a high school dance in hopes the vampire will follow Elena there. To a building filled with innocent people.”

“Yep,” he answered popping the p.

She shook her head. “You’re not allowed to come up with the plans anymore.”

Lucy stayed close to Damon as they walked into the dance. She suppressed a shudder. This had never been her kind of thing. Too many people with too many expectations. Damon leaned toward her. “Stay close, kitten.”

She hummed instead of answering and grabbed onto his hand so they wouldn’t get separated. He shifted his hold so their fingers were laced together. He tugged her in one direction while Stefan and Elena went over to meet Caroline and Bonnie.

After a look around the room, they made their way to where Elena stood by herself. “Where’d everyone go?” Lucy asked.

“Dancing,” the girl answered, clearly not happy. Her gaze darted down to where Damon still held onto Lucy’s hand then back up. Elena smiled slightly and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Damon, would you like to dance?”

“I would love to.” He turned his smirk onto Lucy. “Lucy, may I have this dance?”

She laughed and let him lead her onto the floor. “That was mean,” she said.

“It was, wasn’t it?” He shrugged. Once the song was over, they moved to the side of the dancefloor to scan the crowd again.

“Do we even know what we’re looking for?” she asked after a moment.

“Creepy vampire.”

She elbowed his side. “Found him. I win.”

“Not funny,” he grumbled.

She grinned. “We keep having this conversation. I told you, I’m hilarious.”

A man with blond hair wearing a letterman’s jacket approached them. “Hey, I don’t recognize you. How’d you get roped into chaperoning?”

Damon just looked at him, not interested in idle chitchat with a stranger.

“Oh, sorry,” the man said holding out a hand. “Alaric Saltzman, new history teacher.”

Damon shook his hand followed by Lucy. “Damon Salvatore, Lucy Williams,” the vampire introduced them.

“Salvatore? As in Stefan?” Alaric asked.

“That’s my little brother. I’m his guardian. Hence the chaperoning.”

“He’s a smart kid.”

Lucy looked the man over. Everything he said had a hint of insincerity. What was he up to?

“That’s our Stefan.” Damon said sounding pretty insincere himself. She rolled her eyes. These two would get along great.

The teacher shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, you always lived here?”

“Off and on. We traveled a lot.” Damon may have been answering the other man’s questions but his focus remained on the crowd in the gym.

“Oh yeah. Where? Around the states?”

And that was enough for Damon. He made it a practice of not sharing too much of his personal life and distrusted anyone that pushed for information.

Obviously unsettled by the look he was getting, Alaric backpedaled. “Sorry. I’m so nosey. Just ignore me. It was nice meeting you.”

They watched him walk away and Lucy leaned into Damon’s side so she could talk without being overheard. “I don’t trust him.”

Damon hummed. “Yeah, me either.”

A beat went by before she spoke again. “Damon?”

“Yes, kitten?”

“Are the lyrics of this song literally ‘it’s a slow dance’?”

He chuckled. “Yep.” He grasped her hand and pulled her to a different part of the floor to dance while they continued to look for the vampire.

They were in the midst of quiet conversation when Stefan interrupted them. “Have you seen Elena?”

Damon looked frantically around the room. “She was just here. What the hell?”

“We need to find her,” Stefan said. “Lucy, you stay with Caroline.”

Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. She watched the brothers hurry from the gym before she found the blonde. “Hey Caroline.

“Lucy, it’s so good to see you.” The girl seemed genuinely happy, making Lucy smile.

“Listen, the boys and I have to take care of something real quick but we’ll be right back. Stay in the gym, okay? One of my asshole exes is running around and he’s bad news.” Lucy didn’t wait for a response before following in the direction the brothers went.

She hurried through the maze of hallways blocked by locked doors and discovered they were in the cafeteria. Rather than announcing her presence, she stayed in the hallway to keep watch. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doors.

Grunts of pain carried from inside and she flinched. She didn’t know what they were doing to the creepy vampire but it sounded unpleasant. A sound caught her attention and she looked over to find the new history teacher making his way down the hall.

He gave her an uneasy smile. “Lucy, right?”

“Last I checked. Alaric?”

“Call me Ric.” He tried to look past her through the window and the door and she shifted her stance to block his view. “What are you doing here? Kind of a long way from the dance.”

“Needed a break. Too many people.” She kept her gaze locked on him as he leaned on the wall across from her.

A particularly pain-filled groan sounded and he straightened. “Did you hear that?”

“Nope.”

His gaze ran over her but it didn’t faze her. She’d hate for Damon to have to kill Ric here but she didn’t trust the teacher. They’d have to keep an eye on him regardless.

A loud cry came from the room behind her and she bit the inside of her lip to keep from reacting.

“Someone just yelled in pain,” he said taking a step in her direction.

“No, they didn’t.”

He laughed in disbelief. “Yes, they did. I heard it.”

“I think you’re hearing things. There was no yell.” She kept her voice and her expression as neutral as possible.

He took another step forward. “I think I better check that room.”

Lucy straightened, moving one hand behind her leg. She dropped the stake into it and fingered the weapon. She’d never killed a human before but she’d do what was necessary to protect her boys even if nausea already rolled in her belly from the thought. “There’s nothing in that room you need to worry about, teacher. Trust me.”

There must have been something in her expression that warned him off. He stared at her a moment longer before nodding. “Okay.” As he walked away down the hall, she breathed a sigh of relief and tucked her stake back into place.

Just as he disappeared from view, the doors behind her opened making her jump. She spun around to find Damon looking her over. “Oh, hey, Luce. Where’ve you been? We found the vampire.”

Stupid Salvatore.

[angstyclowns]

Please don’t let me go.

Part 2 to this! Thank you all so much for 2K followers!

Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki did not lose. Not in battles, not in competitions, friendly or not, and he would not lose you.  He refused to. He would not let you go. He loved you too much. He was too selfish to let you go. He fucked up, he’d own that. He fucked up badly, though he wasn’t certain he knew how to fix it. He could hear your sobs throughout your den, making him whine. 

You hadn’t done anything but cry since those blasted words left his mouth and he was beginning (Pshh beginning, he always worried about you) to get scared.  Groaning, he shut off his phone, thanking any and every being out there an old friend of his was willing to take his shift (He had to send her a gift basket for her and Deku). His duffel landed on the ground with a thud before he was running to your guys room, opening the door with zero hesitation. You looked up to him with such heartbreak in your eyes. Fuck, his chest hurt. 

Katsuki was never good with words, you and him both knew this, but he still had to make it right. He had too. Fuck his eyes were stinging as he approached you, making him collapse onto his knees in front of your nest. You watched him, not saying anything. 

“Please, fuck I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. Any of what I said. You don’t deserve it-deserve it. You deserve so much better than me- But I don’t want to let you go-” He was crying now, making you cry as well. You understood he was stressed, and you probably weren’t making it any better. Both of you were stressed and anxious and- fuck. 

This wasn’t healthy communication. You and him both knew it. You needed to fix this. With time you would. Right now though, right now you were focused on the arms wrapping around you, and thats all you would focus on for now. 

---

“Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk about with this upcoming pregnancy? This is a safe space.” 

Katsuki smirked at the therapist. playing with the ring on your finger as he held your hand. 

“What is there to say? I’m pumped. The Bakugou genes live on and I’ve got my pretty omega by my side.” 

While marriage counselling sounded terrible on paper, it wasn’t. It gave you both an outlet and coping mechanisms when hurdles appeared in your relationship, and made you both overall a lot happier. 

You purred as you leaned on your alpha, making the therapist smile. 

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m no longer needed here. You both seem to have impressive communication now, and I can’t see this changing when your pup arrives. Though, keep in mind when that time comes, you both will need to be top of your game.” 

You watched Katsuki nod, completely entranced by the therapists words. If you would’ve told yourself about this Katsuki a year ago, when your huge fight broke out, you would’ve laughed in your own face. But now, watching Katsuki work hard to prove he was the alpha you deserve?

Your heart fluttered and the butterflies in your tummy grew restless. While a pup would be a big challenge, you and Katsuki were ready for it. 

And he would be with you every step of the way. 

Shouto Todoroki

His choice was made before his subconscious even had the chance to boot up. His throat closed up and his phone was crushed in his palm when it tried dragging his attention from the fact at hand. It was dropped with little remorse as Shouto quickly ran in the same direction you did, stopping you from entering your guys room. You chirped in surprise when he turned you around, pressing a searing kiss to your lips.

You wanted to fight him but Shouto didn’t let you. He didn’t let you go when you squirmed, he only tightened his grip (Not hurting you). He didn’t know when it happened, but tears were starting to drip down his cheeks. 

Shouto didn’t get angry. But he got upset. He felt so guilty. Just seeing your heartbroken face replay on his mind was torture. Just knowing he had just did the same thing his father did to his mother. He was dismissing your worries and genuine concern because of his job. 

“I-I don’t see how messed up this is. But I want you to tell me- show me. I want to be a better alpha for you. Bonding you wasn’t and won’t ever be a mistake to me. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to. I want to know why it’s such a big deal.”

You broke down as Shouto held you, not finding the words to explain anything just yet. You would need time to do so, and he would give you that time. 

He just wanted to tell you he made his choice. 

In fact, there wasn’t much of a choice at all, and he hoped-- prayed-- you could feel that. 

---

“Shouto, we need you to start up the scenting again. You’re rep is dropping and-” His P.R. manager was halted with a finger, the half-and-half hero quickly dialing your number on a new-- not crushed-- phone.  

“Sho? Aren’t you at work? Why are you calling? Did something-”

“Scenting things that aren’t for you, thats a breech of privacy and demeans our relationship, right?” Shouto cut you off, sending a silent apology to you. 

You paused on the other end. “Yeah? We had this conversation a couple weeks ago. Are you okay?” 

He smiled. “Fine. Just reminding myself.”

You both said your quick goodbyes before Shouto turned to his P.R. manager. “My omega said no.” 

“Who cares what your omega thinks?! Your-”

“I’m nothing without my omega. I care what my omega thinks and what my omega says go. If her word isn’t enough then mine will be. I said no.” 

Silently, Shouto patted himself on the back as he turned, trying to leave for patrol. You would be proud of his newly shined spine. 

“Your-”

“Oh, before I forget. ” Shouto turned, facing the manager who was red with rage. It made him smirk. “You’re fired.” 

Keigo Takami

Patrol was rough. Brutal. He couldn’t focus. 

He had told you he was more important. He wasn’t. 

He was a broken shell of a man. Hawks was this fucking persona he put up, and in that moment those words came from him. Not the Keigo that you dug so hard for. Not the Keigo that you ached for late at night, just wanting to hold him in your arms. 

He was blurring the lines between Keigo and Hawks, with Hawks breaking through as the dominant. He didn’t want that. Not at all. He wanted Keigo to still be there. Be there for you. 

Fuck this. 

He was going to be there for you. Fuck the hero rankings. Fuck the commission. Fuck anything that kept him from you. 

Turning around, he ignored any calls of his name, soaring faster than he had all evening to get to you. He could see you through the windows of the balcony (You both lived on the top floor, enough enough ceiling to floor windows looked nice). You were looking ahead of you blankly, wrapped in one of his sweaters. Fuck you looked like you had gone through the ring. Hair messy and eyes blotchy. 

You didn’t even look over when he tumbled through the door, literally crawling to you. 

Keigo would admit he had never cried since he was six. He was twenty-three now. That was seventeen years. 

He would also admit he cried at your feet. Angry, painful sobs that rocked his body and made him hurt. He didn’t care though. He’d do it all for you.

He tried pleading that he was nothing without you. Hollow and empty. 

To be fair though, he wasn’t even certain he was doing anything other than incoherent babbles.   When your arms wrapped around him and allowed his wings to cocoon around you both, he figured he made some sense. 

For you, he’d go through all the pain seventeen years of hiding would bring him.

---

“Baby bird!” 

Keigo didn’t normally call out to you like he found himself doing, but recently, he’s found himself doing a lot of stuff he never imagined himself doing. 

Domestic life with you was such a nice feeling. 

Having you in his arms every morning, working with you as he got ready for work, watching you yourself get ready for your day. Just you. 

You were perfect in everyway and it made his chest tighten with love every time he saw you. 

You turned the corner with a smile, waving to him before gesturing for him to follow. He did so with a quirked brow, following you to one of the ex-guest rooms. You were giddy, bouncing slightly in your place with your scent so happy and boisterous it made Keigo purr. 

When you decided he wasn’t moving fast enough, you ran back, pulling him forward and into the nursery. His son was laying there, fast asleep in a makeshift mini-nest, bright red wings wrapped around himself as a blanket. 

You cooed and held onto Keigo, watching as your alpha picked up your son, holding him to his chest. The young boy merely ruffled his feathers, quickly recognizing the scent and nuzzling into his dad’s chest. 

While he went through seventeen years of pain in the span of two, he had you by his side. And now, he had his son. His son which you had gifted him. 

He didn’t know what he was thinking back then, but truly no one was more important than you. 

And he would take that with him until the day he dies.

[sweetcathedral]

🖤Hero Academia — Aizawa🖤

Note: I thought I’d post an old work here. Also, b/c I’m seeing a lot of minors migrate to ao3, I’m thinking of switching all my works to here since it’s easier to monitor, which means I’m deleting my ao3.

⚠️: bulge, breeding, somnophilia, cnc

He’s late. Just as you thought, but that’s expected of Pro Heroes and you can’t blame him for being one. You knowingly accepted your common law conditions, so you can’t complain. You reached for your phone hoping to see his name tangled within the notifications.

NekoZawa: late

Was the only message that caught your attention with a little bit of disappointment. Deep down you already knew it’d come to this, but you still can’t help feeling let down a bit. As you were about to change out of your getup a series of sharp knocks startled you, catching you off guard.

“It’s mee!” shouted the familiar voice.

Midnight?!

You rushed to open the door.

“Kayama? You’re ba—,”

“Ahhhh! So cute, so delicate, just youth!” she huffed in excitement at the sight of your longline lace bra and single-ruffled panties.

“Ah! Wai—youth? You know we're not that far in age,” you said, as you try to hide behind the door.

“Please, I'd kill to be 5 years younger, and don’t even try hiding from me. Even though he doesn’t care much about looks this definitely falls within his tastes,”

You blushed at the compliment, wishing it had come out of Aizawa’s mouth instead.

“Anyways,” she continued, “how about some bubble tea? I got your favourite,” she whipped out a bag of drinks from behind her. You wonder if she knew of your plans and came to cheer you up.

Who am I kidding, she’s an R-rated hero. Her sixth sense is basically her sex sense.

“Yeah, I could use some company,” you smiled in relief, thankful for her sharp intuition.

Before you knew it, 9PM became 11PM in what felt like 30 minutes and that heavy feeling weighing on your chest left after a couple of laughs here and there. You couldn’t help but feel better in the presence of Kayama, you have no choice but to feel better in her presence.

“And after I showed his class a pic of you, that grape idiot said ‘ if that raggedy ass man of a sensei is able to snatch a woman like that then there’s still hope for me, right?! Right?!’ in that stupid lisp of his! I couldn’t help, but cackle in his face! Hahahahahahahaha!”

“Grape idiot?!,” you laughed, almost choking on your tapioca.

“It caused this huge uproar which took Aizawa an hour to settle down,”

“Sounds like an exaggeration to me,”

“Really? Then I’d have to ask Principal Nezu for permission to let you visit. Hmmm, maybe a surprise visit during his birthday, I’d get to see that purple shit bleed from his eyes again. Hah!” she said, her sadistic side twinkling in her eyes.

You could tell she wasn’t lying about the surprise visit as she hummed her thoughts between sips of beer. Although you know how much Aizawa likes to keep his private life separate from his professional life, your thoughts couldn’t help but ponder in curiosity at how he acts around his infamous class 1-A students. All he ever does is complain about them every time you ask, but just thinking about him acting like the strict teacher Kayama says he is . . . makes . . . you . . .

“Oi, oooii . . . I said OI!”

“Gah!”

“What the hell’s got you blushing like a dazed mess?”

“Blushing? . . . !”

You clasp your hands over your face, as if you’re trying to keep your thoughts and daydreams from escaping. You let your imagination run wild just from thinking about Aizawa as a teacher — his strict demeanour and cold eyes piercing through you . . . his deep growls muffled at the base of your neck as his grip tightens around your waist and hair . . .

“Oh! What time is it?” Kayama exclaimed, disrupting your thoughts.

You reach for your phone to check the time, seeing 11:17PM illuminating from the screen before flipping it to Kayama.

“Perfect!”

You cock your head to the side trying to think of what could make Kayama that excited, but before you could react, her quirk had already taken hold of your consciousness.

Aizawa let out a heavy sigh staring at the time on his phone. It wasn’t the first time he’d let you down like that, even though it’s out of his control he still can’t help feeling disappointed in himself. Pro Heroes always have unpredictable schedules, but still, he’d wish his schedule had gone his way today.

“Thanks as always, Eraserhead. I’ll send the details your way once we’ve confirmed the date,” Tsukauchi reassured, dismissing him for the day. Aizawa nodded in response, finally, he thought. As he walked out of the station, his phone vibrated.

Ugh, what now?

He reached for his phone and unlocked his screen.

Kayama? Probably just more cat pics.

But much to his surprise, the series of pics caused him to stop in his tracks.

Kayama: Bon appétit! *kissy face*

Was the only message that followed at the end of the series of pics. After Kayama used her quirk to put you to sleep, she happily cleaned the place up and settled you prettily onto the bed in an innocent, but also, somewhat tempting position. Who could blame her? She had a knack for setting up tempting situations for her best friends. Aizawa tapped on each pic, examining the details of your delicate lace bra and fluttery panties. He really wished his schedule had gone his way today. The longer he stared at each pic, the bigger his temptation and pent up emotions grew — frustration, doubt, confusion, jealousy, anger, greed, love, lust, it was causing him to lose all sense of logic. You were causing him to lose all sense of logic and he hated it. It’s his first time experiencing something like this, he’d never romantically loved anyone until you came into his life. At first you were just like any other Pro Hero he teamed up with in previous missions, but the mission you two took on escalated into an emotional high profile case, which caused him to spend more time with you. One thing led to another and now, you’re each other’s common-law spouse. Both of you could care less about the huge wedding traditions of planning a wedding day, banquet halls, invitations and all that, but unexpectedly, he did buy you a wedding ring — a customized designer ring at that. Not only does he not care about appearances, but he also doesn’t seem to care about prices, so long as it serves its purpose.

“Uh, Eraserhead? Everything okay?” Officer Sansa tapped on Aizawa’s shoulder, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, Detective Tsukauchi already settled on a date already?” Aizawa quickly locked his phone and tucked it back into his pocket.

“Um, no, he was actually worried about you . . . you’ve been standing still here for a while now, just staring at your phone . . .”

The logical Pro Hero himself didn’t even realize that he stopped walking and was surprised to see the station still behind him. Tch .

“. . . yeah, I think I should head home now. Someone’s waiting for me. Thanks, Officer Sansa.”

He waved at the cat officer before tucking his hand back into his pocket, unconsciously digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands in frustration. He hated this feeling . . . and he can’t wait to take it out on you .

Aizawa hesitates to open the door, unsure of how he’d react when he sees you for himself. He carefully turns the knob, making sure not to make a noise that’ll wake you from your peaceful slumber. You were just like the pics Kayama sent him — back exposed with the soft glow of the city night lights highlighting your dainty shoulder blades . . . arms clutching the pillow from underneath that pretty little head of yours . . . one leg hitched up to the side while the other was elongated and tucked half way into the sheets . . . As he reached to caress your face, he noticed his hand trembling from suppressing his temptation. Tch. He pulls his hand back in frustration.

“ . . . mmph . . . Shou . . . ta . . .” you murmured in your sleep in between heated breaths.

That was enough for Aizawa to let go of any sense of logic and common sense he had left, and before he knew it, he was hovering over you — the weight of his body sinking into the duvet. His eyes trailing over your features, watching your chest rise and fall with every breath you take — a reassuring feeling that you’re real and very much alive to him. He annoyingly hears his name from the teachers at UA all the time, but when it whispers out from between those pretty lips of yours, it made him experience a feeling he wasn’t used to controlling. He gave in, leaving trails of kisses that slowly turned into hickeys and then bite marks. He felt bad for leaving those marks on your supple skin, but he also wished they were permanent, as if the wedding ring doesn't speak for itself anymore. Aizawa’s grip tightened on your thigh at the thought of anyone else touching you, pinning your leg to your chest. His rough hand traces down your curves before slipping them in between your thighs — a wet sopping mess.

Ah, her panties are ruined . . . shame, he thought as he ripped a slit open, big enough for what you’re about to take in. Whoops . . . I’ll just get her a new one.

The temperature of your body was rising as he continued to press up against you, leaving marks on your collarbone and teasing your insides with his thick calloused fingers. A wave of pleasure ripples through your moonlight kissed skin, slowly pulling you back to your senses. You bat your eyes a few times to shake off the heaviness weighing on your eyelids.

“ . . . Shou—haa . . . !” your body twitched as another wave of pleasure came over you, shaking off your sleepy numbness, awakening your sense of touch as you grip his forearm trying to get him to slow down. It was no use given how enamoured he was with your reaction, your measly grip is as light as a feather against his strength.

“Haa . . . wait . . . slowdow—mmph!,”

Aizawa places his hand over your mouth, silencing your relentless begging. You finally noticed his flushed face and entranced eyes — a face you’re not used to seeing.

“Shut up, if you know what’s good for you,” his deep voice reverberated in your ear, sending a ripple of shivers down your neck. He was a completely different person in a completely different headspace. The only thing that can bring him back to his senses is your safe word, but you know that if you give in he’d completely stop and resist touching you for days as penance for losing control. But . . . you love it when he loses control along with his sense of logic, so you melt into your favourite position, signaling him to release all his pent up emotions in you — a mating press. You bite your trembling lower lip, begging with your wet eyes as a smirk played across his face. He gently kisses your forehead before pulling down his bottoms, revealing his thick throbbing cock. Your cunt twitched at the sight of it, squeezing out your fluids, dripping down like honey.

“How badly do you want it?”

“. . . badly . . . Shou~ta~ . . .” you cooed.

His cock twitched at the sound of your light and airy voice, precum drips onto the sheets.

“Not yet,” he said as he began stroking his cock on your clit, making sure not to let an inch slip inside you. The sensation drives you crazy as you whimper and whine for him to fill you up inside, desperately begging with your hips. But Aizawa’s firm grip on your thighs won’t let you, and keeps you from getting what you want. You miss the feeling of being bred full . His strokes were getting faster, his panting turning into growls. Your body tensed and toes curled as the feeling came closer, letting a desperate sigh escape from your mouth.

“Already? But I’m not done with you yet,” he playfully whispers in your ear before ramming himself inside you.

“Haa!” you yelped.

Your plump walls twitch at the sudden movement, tightening itself around his cock.

“That’s my good girl,” he chuckled, cockingly.

Tears well up in your eyes as you bite back your whimpering. He grabs your hand and firmly places it on your lower abdomen,

“Do you feel me? I’m right here.”

With your hand firmly placed on your stomach, you can feel his bulge every time he strokes his cock in you. He keeps it there, so that you have no choice but to feel it until the very end — up until his cum fills you up inside. His long strokes began to shorten, each stroke getting harder than the last and unable to hold in your pants and moans. Not only can you feel the warmth fill you up, but you can also feel his cock releasing globs of his milk from the bulge protruding from your lower abdomen. Your fingers dance around it making him twitch, his bruising grip tightening around your wrist.

“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at the mess you both made.

Your cunt was swelling at the amount of cum it’s trying to keep from spilling, gushing out every time your sticky walls twitch. Before Aizawa was about to pull out, you grab his arm,

“Wait . . . not yet,” you must’ve been pouting when those words fell off of your swollen lips cause you’ve never seen his features soften like that before. He lowers himself, feeling his weight sinking into the bed as he tenderly kisses your forehead, brushing your slick baby hairs from your face . . . the warmth of his forehead resting against yours . . . the reassuring feeling of his hand gently cupping your flushed cheeks . . . You reach for his face, thumbing the scar under his eye, diving in for a deeper kiss and wrapping your arms around him. His heart begins to beat harder as you begin to feel his cock swelling up again from inside you.

[shanastoryteller]

Questions about outlines: How detailed are they? Are they the same level of detail or do they vary? How do you make your outlines? Chronologically scene by scene? Or do you come up with the scenes that call you and then come up with smaller filler scenes to fill in the gaps? Do you have outlines for each chapter? Or just for the larger general plot points? Do you try to complete the outlying before starting the fic? Or do you add to the outline as you go? Sorry if this is to many at once

lmao okay i got several asks about outlines but i’m just going to answer this one because it’s ~comprehensive~

every writing teacher i’ve ever had has hated my outlines. my friends find them incomprehensible.

if people are going to look at my answers as ways to do their own outlines, i have to say: that’s probably not a good idea

i don’t write outlines a majority of the time

i don’t write outlines to plan a story i’ve already decided to write

i write outlines primarily as a way to exorcise story ideas that i want to write but don’t want to actually commit to writing (answer prompts are another way i do this lol)

now, some things do get outlines as a way to plan and organize. survival is a talent has an outline because it’s 400k and spans six years. child king had an outline. needy’s body had an outline. 

b u t

i’m currently writing rotten work without an outline

lynchpin didn’t have an outline

hope is the thing with feathers didn’t have an outline

never grow a wishbone only had an outline for the first couple of chapters 

an invincible summer didn’t get an outline until like. chapter 4 of 6. 

i just. uh. think about what i want to happen and then hope i remember to write it down. even when i do an outline, i’ll deviate from it wildly, and not update it to reflect that, because i know what i’m doing (ha!)

so! with that in mind, let’s go! 

How detailed are they? Are they the same level of detail or do they vary?

they vary! but honestly - not very. sometimes i’ll write out a paragraph or bits of dialogue that are important to me, but most of the time it’s just broad strokes of what i want to happen, or a mechanism of how something complicated happens. like i have several paragraphs in my siat outline dealing with necromancy books, but like. two sentences on how they actually occur in the story because that’s just something i’m trusting myself to figure out when i sit down to write it.  

 How do you make your outlines? Chronologically scene by scene? Or do you come up with the scenes that call you and then come up with smaller filler scenes to fill in the gaps? 

I try to put them chronologically, although sometimes that’s a little hard (in siat i have several scenes that i know will happen, i just don’t know when). that is something i will go back and edit on my outlines, is if i’ve changed the order the something happens i’ll go back and copy and paste until my outlines is in the right order. but only if the outlines is something i’m actually using to write and the story is longer than a couple of chapters. 

because my outlines are so very not detailed, i just write down what it is that i want to write, like the reason i’m going to write this or want to write this, and figure out the rest later. i’ll fill it in later - or i won’t! because most of the time i don’t use my outline to actually write the story, and i use it more as an idea list, so if i don’t know what happens between scenes or i find it boring i just won’t write it down

like, for example, here is my “outline” for won’t even plant a garden in it’s entirety 

weep as a woman

“you weep as a woman weeps.” “and how is that?” “as if the future rests on your hips, and you must walk it forward.”

crowley and eve were friends. cain killed abel with the flaming sword, and crowley begged them to say it was with a rock instead

crowley was raphael the painter and fucked michelangelo

crowley was there the night yeshua was born, was friends with mary, helped raise yeshua?

ghosts

crowley and anathema and joan of arc

i ended up dropping most of this and crowley ended up sleeping with both eve and yeshua as the major plot points. i don’t explain stuff, really. i know what i mean so i just don’t bother to get very detailed most of the time. 

Do you have outlines for each chapter? Or just for the larger general plot points?

siat i divide up by year, and i think i did it by chapter for the last two chapters of build your wings on the way down, but otherwise it’s just one long list. i do my chapters based on words counts rather than content, so outlining by chapter doesn’t really make sense for me (siat is always around 15k a chapter, and everything else  i do these days thats multi chapter is around 8k because that’s the best, but ngawb was 5k a chapter and i think for child king it was around 11k a chapter)

Do you try to complete the outlying before starting the fic? Or do you add to the outline as you go?

I’m constantly adding as a i go! my outlines are never really “complete” they’re just abandoned. i write down what i think will help me and tend to ignore the rest. sometimes i just. talking to myself in my outlines when i’m trying to think something through. 

my outline for child king is under the cut because that’s one that’s a good mix of stuff i kept and stuff i threw out. DON’T JUDGE ME!! bad ideas don’t get written because they’re bad!! it’s part of the ~process~ 

child king

Summary: “A child king is still a king,” Deaton says softly. “A child king is still a child,” he snaps, but he knows this is an argument he’s already lost.  – Stiles is a born alpha, and after the Hale fire, things get real complicated, real fast.

Stiles’s mom is the last remaining human from a pack that was destroyed by hunters. John is the one that helps her after, so he knows everything. When they move to beacon hills she doesn’t feel the need to say anything to the hale pack, because as far as they’re concerned she’s just a human, and she doesn’t want to get involved in pack business. But then stiles is born with red eyes. The doctor is quiet and scared john and Claudia freak out, but it’s because he’s a werewolf, which is a relief to parents because they thought something was wrong with their kid. Maybe they don’t know he’s an alpha, only that he’s a wolf? Or they know and they keep it a secret on purpose

Claudia is the one to approach mrs. Hale. She tells her that her son is a born werewolf, but that she’s not interested in joining their pack. Her husband is a new deputy and they just bought a house but they’ll move if they have to. “he’ll need a pack one day. It’s safer,” she says. “if he wants to join you one day, I won’t stop him. But that’s not a choice I’m willing to make for him.” Mrs hale agrees that they can say separate as in exchange for the sheriff smoothing over some ruffled feathers no and again. They agree. Claudia to sheriff “we’re going to have to move one day. Our son is an alpha, and he’ll need to make his own pack.”

Stiles is seven the first time he snarls at his mom, eyes flashing red, and she freezes. She’s got the pack instinct, it doesn’t matter that hes her kid, hes still her alpha, so its hella awkward. John can see how this will quickly spiral out of control if they can discipline their own kid. But stiles is the one to back down first, apologizing and doing as he’s told. There are careful power structures here, and this is the beginning of differentiating between stiles the human and stiles the wolf.

When his mom gets sick, stiles offers to turn her. Hale offers to turn her. She refused for Reasons that I have to figure out. Maybe the politics of it? Wanting to protect stiles and not wanting to become part of the hale pack

The fire happens. John ships stiles the hell out of dodge, because there are hunters about. He snoops around enough to figure out it was kate argent, but theres not really anything he can do about it

Scott knows about everything, and tries to tell his mom in a really akward way that they should trust stiles if they’re ever in danger, but she just laughs it off. Except when someone breaks in and threatens her with a gun, and she manages to make a phone call, it’s not 911, not john, but stiles, and she doesn’t even know why, regrets it as soon as it happens. But then stiles shows up and breaks both of the guys, eyes glowing red, and then calls his dad and scott to take care of it, because they’re humans, so they get human punishments. Melissa is told everything.

Scott has a bad asthma attack and, and Melissa asks about the bite. Scott is itching for it. He wants it so badly. Stiles has already promised to turn them when they turn 18, and Melissa knows that. She asks if theres a reason to wait, and the answer is nah, not really. So he gets the bite. Stiles being like uh psa punishments cant include scott staying away

After hale fire and stiles gets back, he’s shocked that hey just left, and that they left peter behind. He starts visiting peter several times a week. He tells his dad that they should pay for his medical care. They have a fuckton of money because his mom inherited all the pack wealth, and john doesn’t touch it because that’s stiles’s money, that’s werewolf money. But this is a werewolf thing, so he agrees. “his pack left him dad.”

Stiles bites Erica when they’re 14. Some point in middle school stiles wises up to the Isaac thing and tells his dad he needs to arrest his dad, or stiles is going to kill him, and he’s not even a little bit joking. Stiles hears Isaac crying while going by the house? In johns squad car. Makes them pull over, then bursts into the house. John goes with it because his son’s eyes are red.

Some point after the hales leave, things start trying to move into hale territory. Some wolves? Stiles smells them, and ends up at 10 years old telling them to fuck off. This how scott finds out? He’s with scott and his dad. Deaton is facing off against something? Panics when stiles intervenes, but stiles goes wolfy and red eyes and is like. This is mine now fuck off. Looks at the hale house, and finally says, we have to take care of this. We have to. But they don’t own the house or the land or any of it. They do … something

Stiles ends up having to deal with a lot of crap real young

Stiles has scott and Isaac when peter wakes up. Stiles is there, and peter isn’t crazy because he wasn’t abandoned to die alone. Stiles says he can stay, or he can go, not trying to pressure anything. Peter chooses to become part of stiles’s pack, because his family is either dead or abandoned him. Peter ends up moving in with them as he finishes healing and to get used to being in a pack and with stiles. It’s very strange for john, but it’s a werewolf thing and he’s trying to be supportive. After a couple months, stiles tells his dad that having peter is a relief, that there’s finally someone who knows things, someone older who can support him as a werewolf. Peter acts as his second, and he finally has some degree of authority that age has lost him. Stiles has peter take care of the hale house. Peter and stiles have the conversation, where peter is like the hale land is your land now. You’re the alpha of beacon hills. He does what stiles directs him to.

Isaac is living with scott under stiles’s direction ish. But lots of Melissa. Isaac like I don’t wantto be afraid anymore, I don’t want to hurt anymore, and stiles is like. Okay. We’ll fix this. But he doesn’t bite Isaac until he goes to a shitton of therapy and has mostly sorted himself out. For isaac’s fifteenth birthday, he bites him.

Erica is spur of the moment, it’s something that all instinct and very little thought. OR they’re dating and it happesn? Erica’s parents suck. Stiles doesn’t want the balancing act of being boyfriend and alpha.

Jackson is so fucking desperate to belong to something. He nags and nags and nags and finally stiles bites him at least half to shut him up.

“dad can I talk to you about something weird and uncomfortable and a little creepy” talks about crush on Lydia, and how he’s not sure if its because he has a crush on her or if it’s bc he thinks she’ll be good for the pack. Lydia joins before Jackson, and she’s the one that pushes stiles into it. Lydia and stiles are not dating, but she’s clearly high in the hiarchey.

Boyd? Just like. Shows up. Idk.

So by the time laura and derek show up, stiles’s pack is: john, Melissa, peter, Lydia, Jackson, danny, Isaac, boyd, Erica, deaton (who’s acting as emissary but is training danny). Maybe bring in some later characters, like malia and kira and cora. Ooooh maybe the twins show up before they became alphas, still run aways and looking for something else? Stiles takes them on. Stiles finds malia early on after the fire

Peter is willing to forgive derek but he has a lot of shit with laura. Stiles agrees to let laura and derek stay and not be part of his pack, although laura insists she doesn’t need his permission. She snaps at peter to come home with them, and he looks at her like she’s insane. He says there’s no hale pack, and if there was, he’s not interested. He’s a stillinkski wolf now. Cora too maybe? Double blow. Peter owns the hale land, and he makes it clear the day stiles turns 18 he’ll be signing it over to him. Stiles is known by the surrounding packs.

Stiles has to somehow defend the surrounding area, has to make it clear he’s his and that he’s not willing to give it up. It’s valuable land. People are going to come looking for it once people figure out it’s abandoned. When deaton finds out stiles is an alpha, he goes around as an emissary to the surrounding packs. Saying that its under stiles now. He’s known to them so it goes mostly uncontested. This is when he and the sheriff have the child king conversation.

Stiles tries really, really hard to be a good alpha. That means controlling the territory, and working with other packs when members go rouge or something goes wrong. He’s thirteen the first time he goes to lend a hand in a fight, and it’s young, it’s too young, but he’s an alpha. He has to do this, to maintain the peace. And the thing is – stiles is good at this, good at not pushing, at not using his status as a crutch or an excuse, instead as a tool.

Maybe this is why no one cares for laura’s excuses. As much as laura wasn’t ready to take on the responsibility, she was an adult, if only barely. Stiles is a literal child, and in her absence shouldered it all. So even if she does technically have a claim, none of them are willing to honor it. “if you kill alpha stiles, you won’t have allies, you’ll have enemies.”

Allison and argents. Stiles brings his pack to kill kate. Gives peter the chance to do it himself, and is so very proud when he says no. but instead of letting her go free, stiles crushes her throat. “revenge would have been trapping you all in here and setting the whole thing on fire. Justice would have been making you watch as she burned alive. This was mercy, and don’t you forget it.” Scott is hella in love with Allison, but he knows this comes first. Her mom is full of hatred, but stiles more than makes it clear that he has no problem with killing her too.

Stiles sees derek soon after. They’ve already gone back and forth a lot. But he and laura weren’t there. Stiles tells him what he did. They have a ~moment~

Derek wants so very much to join stiles’s pack, but he doesn’t want to lose laura.

Something finally convinces laura to take the plunge and the stillinksi pack is one happy family

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 22

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: FLUFF! Inappropriate jokes! The team being a family of mother hens. Steve + WAP! Reader's old man fetish is ✨blossoming✨. Stephen is finally evolving from Grinch into a human being.

a/n: How do we feel about Wanda/Loki pairing? Loki is comparatively around Wanda's/Reader's/Pietro's age, e.g. he's a young adult. Also, new divider.

All three of us spilled out of the elevator in a flurry of wet hair, outrageously large shopping bags and the smell of autumn leaves and cinnamon-infused chocolate. Picture perfect friends - our arms were linked, we stood side to side, our bags mixed up. Loki's silky black hair was dripping cold water onto my face and my own clothes sticking to me in uncomfortable places.

It started pouring buckets when we got into my car to go back to the tower. Wanda complained about being hungry and after a brief detour in one of the hole-in-the-wall, hidden gem, French boulangeries, all three of us were pleasantly relaxed and companionable under the influence of hot chocolate and fresh, warm croissants (Loki ate, like, ten, royal manners be damned). The five minute run from the parking lot to the main entrance resulted in us being way too soaked to be comfortable - thankfully, the shopping bags seemed to be waterproof. Or, perhaps, Loki enchanted them somehow.

"Stop fucking cheating, Rogers..." Tony was grumbling in frustration, looking at an array of cards in his hands, squinting suspiciously at a smug Steve.

Noticing us, the room perked up immediately. Thor lifted his head and we saw him and Pietro splayed out on the couch, each male holding a play station controller. Stephen Strange was sat cross-legged on the floor, reading a book, while Natasha filed her nails next to him, a face of tranquility and indifference.

We almost backpedaled from the amount of puppy eyes suddenly gazing at us.

"Sup?" I decided to go first, seeing as both of my companions were still mostly confused. What the hell, I was equally perplexed.

"How was your day, brother?" and "Got yourself a nice dress?" and "Marchesa? Not bad." Were the most intelligible words I could make out of the cacophony that descended upon us.

And it suddenly downed on me. Neither Wanda nor Loki had previously left for the city on their own. Their siblings were worried. I sighed, concealing my happiness behind a quiet complaint of being cold and wet. My bags were picked up by Thor who abandoned his game in favour of greeting his brother with a hug. Surprisingly, Loki didn't refuse and let Thor embrace him and relieve us of our items to deposit them out of the way.

"Cold," Wanda whined, stripping off her damp sweater to reveal simple black leggings and tee underneath.

"Wet," Loki mumbled, gathering a ball of green magic to dry out his dripping hair.

"Gross," I said, walking straight into Tony's open arms. He didn't say anything, just indicated my place was in his lap, squeaking and shivering as soon as I reached my destination.

"Baby girl, you're gonna get sick. Let's go take a bath," He unsuccessfully attempted to lift my limp body. I groaned in protest, dead on my feet. It felt like I had walked a thousand miles. Wasn't gonna remove myself from a warm, soft Tony.

"I'm dead, like, I'm a zombie. If you move me, I'll eat that sexy brain of yours," I threatened fitfully.

"Well, at least change out of these clothes. You're dripping me in gross, polluted rain water," The engineer laughed.

"Lazy," I replied, nestling myself closer to his warmth. He tugged on my clothes, wrestling me out of the top layers, leaving me shivering like a newborn kitten across his lap. His eyes darted across the room - evidently, he was looking for some sort of a hoodie as he wasn't wearing one at the time. Tony knew how much I loved those and always kept one in his vicinity. Thoughtful, lovely Tony.

"Have you seen my MIT sweatshirt?" He asked and everyone replied negative. Tony frowned.

"Here, have mine," Strange stood up, unzipping and handing me his own plain grey one. "I'll make some herbal tea for the girls least they actually get sick." With that, the grumpy doctor walked off into the kitchen. I watched his broad back retreat with renewed interest. Hate to see you go but love to watch you leave...

One warm hoodie and hot tea later, I was feeling less like a drowned cat and more like the fabulous human being that I was. Wanda had told everyone about her two cute new dresses without actually revealing the idea behind her costume. Somehow all of us silently agreed to surprise each other after I pulled my stunt on Stephen.

Strange didn't seem to be mad at me; his presence was amiable and delightful. He made usual small talk and we engaged in a brief, friendly battle of the wits and he and Tony managed to not piss off each other too much. Loki and Wanda hung nearby, and we chatted, too, mostly about less popular but very cool movies the three of us could watch... Yeah, so we were arranging a sleepover. Bite me.

"So, everyone ready for the party?" Clint was all but bouncing in his seat. "Me and Sammy-boy, we'll have the coolest costumes!" He exclaimed, smirking in Tony and Bruce's direction. Something was coming, something great, from my two boys. I could sense it. Natasha probably knew and tattled to Clint already. The bird bros fist-bumped with an obnoxious cheer.

I was feeling drowsy. The tea Strange made had something calming in it. My usual energetic spirit was gone, replaced by a mellow sort of mood. Plus, my feet hurt from all the walking. I moaned in distaste, flexing my toes.

"I disagree," Wanda shared a secretive smile with Loki and me.

Apparently, my discomfort was quite obvious. It took only another quiet, pitiful groan from me for Bruce to scoot closer, remove my socks and tenderly knead the arch of my foot. He smiled at me, soft and gentle, pressing the pads of his fingers into the soft, painful spots.

"Yeah, Pigeon, no amount of make-up will help that ugly mug," Tony declared with a wave of his hand.

"Tony!" Sam defended his bird bro, tossing a pillow at the engineer and missing me by barely an inch.

"You don't need any make-up, bird. You need plastic surgery." I jumped on the bully Clint bandwagon for the lolz. He was actually quite handsome, but his reactions always were fucking priceless. All of us occasionally ruffled his feathers but never to an actually hurtful extent.

"Not gonna lie, that one hurt." Barton huffed, crossing his arms.

Meanwhile, Bruce had moved onto my other foot. I had to hold in a bunch of very lewd, inappropriate noises. Tony was grinning above me, not at all affected by me squirming around. Banner grinned back at the engineer. They were definitely plotting something.

That just wouldn't do, I decided. Time to throw Rick and Morty off their course a little. I stretched leisurely, allowing the hem of my borrowed hoodie to lift, exposing an inch too much of skin than strictly appropriate.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Steve's arched eyebrow and the small secretive smirk he hid behind a cup of tea. The Captain wasn't as virtuous as the others thought and he definitely was onto me.

Bruce still wreaked havoc on my vestibular system by doing some magical voodoo shit to my toes and traded suspicious grins with Tony who radiated an unfair amount of smugness.

"Oh my God," I stretched with a moan of contentment. "Fucking rail me." I might have used this particular choice of words on purpose. The Avengers that memed with me knew the actual meaning but they were in the minority. Most, including Tony and Bruce, gasped in shock at my choice of words. I grinned innocently. "What?"

"We don't use that kind of language around here!" Steve exclaimed, barely hiding a full-fledged laugh behind his cup.

"Cap, a lot has changed in the past seventy years, if you didn't notice," Barton rolled his eyes. "Women are allowed to express themselves now."

"Men think it's pretty hot, actually," Tony remarked, giving me one of his positively mischievous smiles, gently stroking my cheek and dipping his index finger under the hem of my top, following the lines of my collarbone. "It's just that Cap got left out in the cold."

"Very funny, Tony," Steve groaned as the rest of the group laughed. "We don't need a repeat of the WAP incident."

I choked on my breath. "The WHAT incident?!"

Laughter drowned out Steve's stuttering explanation as the supersoldier blushed, possibly, the most saturated shade of scarlet I'd ever seen on a human's face. I had to stop Bruce from continuing to make my limbs into Jell-O, wanting to hear the full story clearly. Anything that warranted such a strong reaction from Steve was bound to be, like, equal parts extremely embarrassing and hilarious. Bucky was laughing up a storm, a tell-tale sign of him having taken direct actions to ensure Steve would be as confused and ashamed as possible.

"Steve caught Peter listening to the song and asked him about it. Peter refused to answer at first, so Bucky decided to mess with Steve a bit," Pietro began explaining. "So Bucky goes: WAP stands for wasted academic potential. Steve sits on it a couple of days, believing his boyfriend like the naïve old man he is," Pietro was gesturing vividly, arms flailing, as the Captain buried his face in his hands. "Lo and behold, Steve had to give a Captain America speech at some sort of school for delinquent children. And at the end of it all - Natasha has that bit on video, by the way - he gives his stern Captain look and goes "WAP is no joke!"!" The speedster laughed out loud along with everybody.

I was howling at that point, staring at Steve. Did the old man realize all the answers to his questions were a simple Google search away? "NO, he didn't, oh my God," I wheezed, suddenly having realized where it was going.

"He totally did!" Clint continued, giving Pietro a fond look and a chance to catch his breath. "The whole student population was laughing, tears rolling down their faces, as the principal started angrily ranting right in Steve's face. And he was just so, so-o confused. Man, his face..." Clint shook his head. "He left so freaking red in the face I thought he was going to have a heart attack. The students had started singing the song, the uncensored version - mind you - at some point and Steve just progressively got redder and redder."

"I'm seventy percent Irish, I can't help it!" Steve cried in his own defense, the famous blush on full display, but laughing nonetheless as he clutched onto his left boob for dear life.

"And one hundred percent dumbass!" Bucky clapped his boyfriend on the shoulder.

I nodded along, me and Tony a howling pile of limbs. The engineer himself was holding onto me for dear life, too winded to make any of his usual snarky commentary regarding Steve's epic failure. "Pure of heart, dumb of ass," I wheezed out my sudden realization.

"Shit, I'm getting that on a t-shirt," Tony sent himself into another cackle fest. "That's brilliant, Princess."

Bucky nodded along, "I'm buying one for this punk." He pointed at Steve, poking him in the right pec.

"Jerk," Steve's gaze was annoyed but fond as he gently shoved his boyfriend before placing a gentle kiss atop his head. Old people in love, so adorable.

"May I request one for my brother as well?" Loki interjected, eyebrow raised, eyeing Thor trying to pry open a carton of ice cream and failing to notice the little plastic lid covering the top part of it. The blonde was utterly oblivious both to his brother and to the chaos around him, set on his quest for salted caramel pecan creamy goodness. I couldn't say I didn't see the appeal...

"What did you call - himbos?" Stephen eyed me curiously, pointing to Thor and Steve with a shaky hand.

I nodded in response. "Harmless, loveable, kind, beefy and utter dumbasses," I pointed out the main characteristics. "I love himbos."

"You said my brain was sexy," Tony pouted, pressing me closer to him and in turn, making my legs wrap around Bruce in a funny way that brought all three of us in a weird sandwich hug. I must've died and gone to heaven once again. "This is bullshit," And Tony fuckin' bit me. The bastard sunk his teeth into my shoulder strong enough to leave a mark.

"I love big, fat brains. Unf," My attempt at a salacious voice only made people laugh. "No PhD, no pussy. I don't make the rules," I snorted loudly.

"You and your old man kink," Wanda chuckled good-naturedly, casting me a knowing glance over the tops of her friends' heads.

"Yes," I agreed solemnly, pulling Tony in for a kiss without an ounce of shame or reservation, catching Stephen's amused face meeting my eyes for a brief second, his eyebrow raised meaningfully. Looked like someone took my comment a little close to heart. Nobody really batted an eye at Bruce being in the middle of our cuddle puddle so if I had to guess, Stephen Strange was at least interested... Or was he silently judging me?

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

[saidrolav]

Drunk Aurora

Single dad!Sam Wilson x gn!reader

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend dumped you, and you decide to get drunk in a pub but you bump into a handsome man.

Warnings: drinking, mentions of vomit, a small part of angst, mostly fluff.

a/n: I've been heavily inspired by the marvelous @barnesnroses and their fic "Invisible string" go check out their works cuz it makes my heart warm. 🥰 (I know you said i didn't had to credit you but i did it ANYWAY BECAUSE PEOPLE NEED TO SEE WHATCHU WROTE CUZ ITS WOW 🙌)

not my gif!

You knew it. You knew it was going to happen sooner or later and it didn't fail. It happened. Your boyfriend, well, now ex-boyfriend had left you, and you had felt it, your relationship was close to an end. But even through you knew it was gonna end, you didn't said anything, and even through you knew, it still hurted bad deep down in your heart. He left your appartement the morning. All day you sat on your couch watching him coming in and out of your place, his arms full of boxes, in silence. The only thing you managed to say when he told you it was over was an 'okay.' and since then you've been silent. You didn't even cried. You weren't shocked. You were just thinking, well, what am i going to do now ? All by myself. A part of you was screaming 'You don't need him, you're strong!' and the other part was crying their heart out. The thing that the two parts of you agreed on was, drinking. Drinking.. a lot. So that's what you did.

You entered the nearest pub that was quite crowded and approached the fastest you could the bar. You ordered the first alcohol on the list (which was the strongest), and waited patiently for your drink.

You looked around you and saw a couple of people playing cards and others laughing until they were out of breath, it made you smile slightly and when your eyes came back to the bar, your drink was in front of you. It took you no time to think that you were already drinking it in one shot, the alcohol burning your throat and your cheeks at the same time. You asked for another drink, and another one, and another one.. At your.. You didn't remembered how much drinks you had but you were quite drunk, you decided you should probably go home, and when you got out of the pub, you saw that the moon were already up high in the dark sky.

You stared at it for a couple minutes but when you tried to walk, you saw that your legs weren't following the pace and you almost fell, you putted your arm against the nearest wall and tried to find back your balance, looking at the ground. You really wanted to throw up right here in the middle of the street because the alcohol was burning your stomach and it made you feel sick, you bended your legs and catched your breath. You took a big breath and looked back at the street, okay fine, you were good, not going to throw up on the middle of the steet, you still had some dignity. Yes you were drunk in the middle of the night, outside, but at least you weren't going to vomit.

You standed up and it was with wide eyes filled with terror that you realized that you haven't putted your arm against a wall. You were too drunk to realize but you were holding a piece of t-shirt that were belonging to a chest of a man. A pretty handsome man to say at least. He haven't said a word, didn't make a move, didn't do anything until you were feeling better, his chocolate brown eyes were looking at you with concern and waited any sign to prove that you were okay.

"OH MY GOD !" You screamed and it made him jump a little, that's when he realized you were probably drunk, with the scream and the fact that you haven't realized you had grabbed him with his shirt. "Since when you've b-been here ?" You frowned and it made him laugh.

"I guess since i'm stuck with you ?" He smiled and pointed with his index where you were still holding him.

"I'm SO sorry... I mean i'm sorry for you for being stuck with such an handsome person." You winked miserably and he laughed even more at your attempt to flirt with him when you couldn't even walk.

"That's okay, pumpkin, i'm going to take you home just lead me okay ?" He smiled kindly and before you could answer he took you in his arms and lifted you so your legs weren't touching the ground anymore, you let out a little scream which made him chuckle. Damn that guy was strong has hell! He moved you like you were a feather and it made you feel like all sorts of butterflies were erupting in your stomach. He carried you, princess style and waited quietly for your instructions. And he waited quite some time, he had been more than patient with you but suddenly he heard soft snores coming from you and he smiled, he thought you were adorable. He didn't know if he was happy because he could take you to his home or unhappy because you would think he was some sort of freak taking random people in his house.

He finally took control of the situation and bringed you to his appartment, he wasn't going to leave you here anyway, so he thought it was the best choice.

The both of you arrived to his appartment, he tried to make no noises so he wouldn't woke up his son. He putted you on his couch and took off your shoes, putted those next to you and laid a blanket on your sleeping body. He waited a couple minutes and assured himself that you were in deep sleep and went in his bedroom so he could sleep too.

"Dad, DAD !" He jumped out of his bed only to be met with his son, Aiden, and he took him in his arms with a huge smile on his face, Sam had slept at least a good 7 hours.

"What's going on buddy ?" He ruffled his hair while taking him in the kitchen to make the breakfast for the three of you.

"Dad, there's a princess on the couch..." Sam frowned a bit and took a look on the couch and saw you, still asleep which made him smile, he putted his son back on the ground.

"Yeah that's Sleeping beauty, don't wake them up or they'll eat you alive !" He whisper-shouted at his son and at the end of his sentence he added some tickles under Aiden's arms which made him laugh loudly while running away.

Sam took a pan to make some eggs with bacon and putted on some cartoons and Aiden watched these in silence. The only sounds that we were able to hear were the TV and your soft snores that were coming from the couch.

Sam finished his scrambled eggs and bacon and seperated them in three plates, he putted one in front of you on the table of his living room, and one in front of his son who ate it with enthusiasm. He sat down on the seat next to you and ate his own plate while watching the cartoons with Aiden.

He served three big glasses of orange juice and he got worried when he saw that you were still asleep and it was almost 11am, your food was going to get cold. He drank his orange juice fastly and putted down his plate to kneel down next to you. He shaked you softly, trying to wake you up as gently as possible and it worked, you opened slowly your eyes but they widened quickly as the realisation hitted you. Who was this man ? What is this place ? Where the heck are you ? What happened last night ? Before you or Sam could manage to say something you heard a third person talking.

"Dad you woke them up they're going to eat you alive !" Aiden smiled at his dad and the man in front of you couldn't control his laugh when he saw the confusion creeping on your face. You sat up straight and looked around you while you were putting your hair correctly. You stomach groaned when your eyes landed on a plate filled with food and a homemade orange juice, you gave a questionning look to the man next to you but he only he sat back on his seat to eat his own dish.

"You can eat." He simply said with a charming smile which made your heart melt. "I made those for you." "You really didn't had to.." His smile only growed bigger. "But i wanted to." "Oh, thanks.." And you suddenly felt embarassed for letting your sentence in suspense because you didn't remembered his name, if he told you.

"I'm Sam, and this is Aiden." He gave a look at his son and you smiled before giving an akward wave at the kid which he returned fastly. "I'm y/n."

"Hi princess!" You blushed a deep shade of red and chuckled a bit before eating in silence your plate as you were also watching the cartoons on the TV.

When the three of you finished your portions of food, Sam took them along with the empty drinks and went to do the dishes, while Aiden went to the bathroom he had explained everything that happened last night and you were feeling more comfortable around Sam and his son.

Aiden sitted next to you and stared at you until you gave him the attention he wanted, then out of nowhere he blurted suddenly: "Is my dad your prince since he woke you from your 100 years old sleep ?" You grinned widely before taking a look at Sam, but this one had his back turned to you, however you could clearly see his big smirk.

"I guess so ?.." You chuckled slightly, not knowing what to answer to such a young child. You stayed at Sam's house a couple of minutes more, playing with Aiden, laughing, they had made your day a thousand times better, but you had to tell him that you had to leave and it made your heart broke when you saw the puppy dog eyes that his son was giving you.

"I'm gonna drive you home sleeping beauty." Sam said to you and his eyes lightened up when they met yours which made you blush slightly.

"No that's okay i don't leave that far i can walk." You nodded to yourself before returning his huge smile.

"That's not what was happening last night," He laughed and you joined him. Your cheeks were hurting from how much you smiled and chuckled that morning. "But you sure ?"

"Yeah, don't worry i'll be fine!" You were soon about to tell him goodbye but as soon as the two of you were in front of his appartment he screamed a "wait!" before disappearing again inside. He came back a couple of seconds later with a pen and he wrote his number on the back of your hand, and he added a "for drunk Aurora." while laughing to himself. When you read it, it made you smile brightly before kissing his cheek, making him blush lightly. You turned your back and was ready to leave when you heard him screaming behind you:

"THE PRINCE WILL BE WAITING FOR THE CALL OF HIS MAJESTY !"

You gave him two thumbs up while chuckling and walking backwards so you could see his charming smile still on his lips. The two parts of you really were right, sometimes, getting drunk was the right option when you could run into Sam Wilson.

[lesbian-peanut-writer]

Nestled with You

Happy Birthday @ikinabi!!

I’m actually on time this year getting this part of your present to you, the other half will reach you soon. I hope you have a good day today and don’t let your college work stress you out too much. Remember, if you ever need someone to talk to I’m right here and I’m more than happy to sit up talking with you.

You asked for some comfort with Hawks, I told you I’d do my best for him and so here it is. I hope you like it and I hope it brings you some form of comfort.

~Lesbian Peanut

Word Count: 3267

College… the bane of your very existence, the one thing standing between you and the career you had been so desperately chasing all these years. As much as you loved the idea of getting one step closer to completing your studies, it was starting to seem impossible from where you were standing. You felt as though you were being slammed with the workload that was beginning to amount atop your shoulders, the weight of it all bearing down on you and causing you great amounts of stress. Anxiety coupled with the stress, was eating away at your confidence and sapping you of any motivation you had once managed to possess. It had led you to an undesired habit of which you desperately wish you could kick before it got any worse than it already was.

“Alyssa…”

Keigo’s voice echoed throughout the halls of your small apartment, the eerie and unfamiliar silence echoing back to him in place of your usually cheery greeting for him. A lump of dread rose to the back of his throat as the absence of your voice chirping back at him sent a sudden chill down his spine and caused his feathers to ruffle in unease. He was painfully aware of the hard time you had been having with your college studies and the stress had been piling onto your already anxious mind. Keigo had spent many a long night on the phone with you, allowing you to pour your troubled heart out to him and staying on the line until he could hear the soft sounds of your breathing after you had succumbed to exhaustion. The inability of being able to do anything for you, made Keigo feel useless at times like these and it frustrated him to no end. It was that frustration that had led him to make the decision to pay you a surprise visit, he just wanted to help you in some small manner.

“Babe?”

He fumbled as he kicked off his heavy boots with a thud before padding his way through your apartment. The kitchen area was his first choice to search, followed closely by him popping his head into the living room to check whether you were squirreled away in there. Your presence was absent from both of the rooms and so, he knew exactly where he should head in his search of you. Keigo was as quiet as he could be as he rapped his fingers against the wooden door to your bedroom, not wanting to wake you if you had happened to fall asleep by some miracle chance. He peeped his head around the edge of the door cautiously, flicking his eyes about the small area of your room before they fell on your hunched over back.

“There you are…” He hummed as he pushed the door open and stepped inside your room, a sense of relief ebbing into him as he gently closed the door behind him so he didn’t startle you. “I called out to you when I entered your apartment, though you probably didn’t hear me from in here with your door shut and all that.” Keigo chirped as he headed over towards the desk you had pushed up under the window and had taken residence at. “I bought some food from down the road and thought maybe we could eat together today.” He added as he stopped next to your desk, holding up the paper bag in his right hand.

There was nothing by silence in response to all of his chatter, something that instantly tipped him off that something was seriously wrong. Keigo frowned when you didn’t answer him, his brow creasing in concern as his eyes dropped down to where your hand was propped against the top of your desk. Your fingers were wrapped tightly around your pen like vipers, holding it in a death grip as your eyes stared down unseeingly at the numerous pages spread out over your desk. You couldn’t hear him, Keigo realised that now. It was apparent to him that you had become overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work before you and your brain had decided the best way to deal with it was simply by blocking it all out; causing you to zone out completely.

“Alyssa, baby?” He tried as he seated himself on the edge of the desk, leaning over it as he placed the bag of food on the other side. Keigo dropped his eyes down to the pages littering the surface of your desk, they all looked as though they were for one of your classes though which one; he wasn’t entirely sure. He leaned down closer, peering at the words scrawled across the pages and his head began to swim instantly. It hurt just looking at the complicated chemistry formulas before him and he instinctively pulled his wings in closer to his body in a small form of comfort.

His eyes zeroed in on your lips as your teeth dragged over your bottom lip, pulling at the delicate skin there and peeling it away. It was a tic you had developed for whenever you happened to get utterly stressed out and he knew there was really only one way to snap you out of a trance like this one. Keigo stood to his full height as he pushed himself up off your desk, moving to stand behind your chair before leaning in close to you. The scent of your days old perfume barely distinguishable as his nose brushed over your shoulder before tracing up along your neck. A smirk pulled at the corners of his lips as he allowed them to brush against your ear, his eyes flicking forwards to your face as he parted his lips and drew in a shallow breath.

“Baby Bird…”

A violent and vicious shudder tore its way through your body, dragging your mind from the comfort of the abyss it had become trapped within. Your eyes blew wide as that all too familiar deep and velvety voice sounded from right next to your ear. You turned around instantly, whipping your head around and locking eyes with Keigo’s golden orbs as he hovered over you. Just as your lips were parting to say his name, he dipped his head in and locked his lips with your own. You were in shock as you sat there in your rickety old chair and received a kiss from your boyfriend; someone you hadn’t been expecting to see in your apartment. He had only been to your apartment a few times and that was only ever when he got the time to make the trip from Japan to America without getting into trouble.

Keigo shifted his stance, gripping the arms of your chair and swivelling you around so your body was facing him fully. His wings stretched out behind him to their full expanse before pushing forwards and wrapping themselves around your chair to hide you from the chaos of the world. His right hand dropped down from the chair, landing against your thigh and gripping it firmly as he pushed in; forcing you back into your seat more. Keigo watched you as your eyes fluttered shut and you leaned your body right back into the comfort of your chair, your hands coming up to fist into the front of his thick jacket. He chuckled softly to himself as he pulled his head back marginally, pressing his forehead against yours as he watched you closely.

“Evening, Baby Bird.” He breathed against your lips as he pulled his wings in closer to your chair, blocking any chance you might have had of trying to run away from him.

“Evening…?” You frowned as you opened your eyes and peeked up at him. What time was it now? Had you really managed to lose track of that much time while you had been sitting here doing your study?

“Yeah, what time did you think it was baby?” Keigo asked, concern beginning to lace its way into his voice as he moved his left hand up to cup your cheek. He waited for your response as he tenderly brushed his thumb over the dark circles beneath your eyes, feeling how puffy they were from your lack of sleep and care.

“I don’t know… I feel like I only just sat down to start doing my study for the day.” You whispered in confusion, your eyebrows knitting together further as you chewed on your bottom lip.

“Stop doing that to yourself.” He muttered before dipping in to plant a solid kiss against your lips, sucking your bottom one between his teeth. He locked eyes with you as he sucked on your lip, his tongue pressing against the abused skin and causing you to wince from the slight sting that shot through your lower lip.

A heavy sigh escaped you as he released your bottom lip and you turned your head away from him. You knew how much it bugged him when he caught you chewing away at your lip, especially when you let it get as bad as you recently had. “How long have you been here?”

“long enough to piece a few things together…” He whispered gently as he placed a kiss against your temple before squatting down in front of you so he could look up into your face. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not really…”

“I think we kind of need to talk about it, Alyssa. I can’t in good conscience leave this apartment while you’re like this, you know I can’t. What kind of person would I be if I were to do that?” Keigo prompted as he took your smaller hands within his own, rubbing his thumbs over the back of yours. “I want to help you but I can’t if you won’t let me.”

You gave a nod of defeat, a sign you were giving in to his reasoning. You knew all too well that he wouldn’t just let it go and he would never be able to leave this apartment while you were in your current state. “Mister Hero, right?”

“You know me babe, I’m just half a bird trying to look after his Baby Bird.” He smiled as he placed several kisses against the backs of your hands, skimming his nose against the soft skin as he went.

Shame seemed to rise up in you as you sat there watching your boyfriend attempt to comfort you in the one way he knew how. Your bottom lip began to tremble as you watched his tender actions with your hands, his lips delicately touching your skin as though the action may very well break you. “I don’t think I can do this, Keigo…” You finally admitted.

Keigo stilled before you, from his position squatting on the floor in front of you it was easy for him to simply look up into your eyes directly. “What do you mean? You’re not talking about all the study work for your classes, are you?” Your sheepish nod was all the answer he needed and his grip instinctively tightened around your hands instantly.

“You listen here to me, Alyssa.” Keigo started as he tugged on your hands and made sure you were listening to him. “I know you can do this. There’s not a single person who didn’t struggle on their path to achieving their dreams and I know that you are more than capable of doing it. I believe in you, Alyssa. I believe that you of all people are more than capable of succeeding in making your dream become a reality.” He stood up and pressed his forehead back against yours, forcing you to tilt your head back so you could peer up into his piercing eyes. “I will have your back every step of the way and when you fall, which you will, I will be there to pick you back up. I will help you as much as I can and I will never let you give up on yourself!”

Tears welled up in your eyes and for the briefest of moments it seemed as though the whole world had gone blurry. As your tears streamed down your face and your lips trembled from the emotion Keigo had put into his words, a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders. It was strange the power words could hold, especially when they were spoken by a person who knew how to smash through the walls you so readily put in place each day.

“Now, how about I go run a bath for you, then I can take you to get cleaned up and you can soak in the bath for a good while.” Keigo whispered as he started to litter kisses across the top of your head and down over your cheeks as he tried to catch your tears.

You nodded in response, watching as he pulled away from you and started to pull his jacket off. Red feathers zoomed around the room as his wings dispelled, allowing him to remove the article of clothing easier. You blinked as he placed the jacket over your head and then leaned down, pressing a kiss atop the jacket. Lifting the jacket, you watched as he walked off towards the bathroom and his feathers raced after him to make his wings full.

Warmth surrounded you as Keigo’s scent invaded your senses, enveloping you in a blanket of security as you pulled his jacket over your face. The soft inner lining tickled as it brushed over your nose and cheeks, causing a soft giggle to slip from your lips. You breathed in deep allowing yourself to get lost in the smell of your boyfriend, the sharp scent of cinnamon mixed with the smell of cool waters; the smell was intoxicating to you. You always missed his scent whenever Keigo had to return to Japan, his visits never seemed to last long enough in your opinion but that just made them all the more special.

“Having fun there, Baby Bird?”

You pulled the jacket off your face and peeked over at Keigo, the lopsided grin on his face causing heat to rise in your cheeks. “Is the bath ready?” You asked in an attempt to change the subject away from you and your boyfriend’s jacket.

“It’s just finishing filling now but I can get a start on cleaning you up while we wait for that.” Keigo mused as he strode across the room to you, leaning down to place a tender kiss against the bridge of your nose. “Come on then, let’s get you a little more comfortable.”

Your bottom lip dropped into a pout as he pulled his jacket out of your grip, throwing it across the room haphazardly. Keigo’s jacket soared through the air, hitting your bed and sliding over your silky sheets before disappearing off the other side of the bed. You didn’t really have time to do anything about it though, it was just seconds later and you were being hoisted up into Keigo’s arms. Warmth enveloped you and you leaned into his chest as his strong arms held you securely.

You had spent more time in the bathroom than you had originally anticipated and you had no one to blame but yourself. Keigo’s efforts to make sure that you were comfortable at all times and his attempts to clean your entire body, had taken a lot of patience on his end. He had demanded that you soak in the bath until he came to get you, leaving behind a couple of his feathers before he left the room. Time seemed to just slip by and before you knew it Keigo was knocking on the bathroom door, announcing that there was food ready for you to eat.

Adorable wasn’t a word you often associated with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t think of anything else to describe what you were seeing before you. Keigo had taken the time you were in getting clean to construct a sort of den, pillows were littered all over the floor and blankets hung with precision above to form a canopy. “You going into the nest making business, babe?” you quipped as you padded across your bedroom.

“They do say that baby birds shouldn’t leave the nest until they know how to fly.” Keigo shot back as he turned and shot you a wicked grin. “Now, get your butt in there and get comfortable because we’re not leaving said nest until you’re well rested.”

You blinked as you caught the serious look in his eyes, there was no way you were going to be able to get out of this and from the looks of things he wasn’t about to let you talk your way out of it either. “I thought you said there was food ready…”

“There is, I brought it all into the fort so that you wouldn’t have to go anywhere else.” He replied as he moved to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he nuzzled the side of your head. “Alyssa, Baby Bird… you need to get some food into you and some decent sleep.”

“I know.” You mumbled in defeat as you leaned into his side and closed your eyes in content. “I’m sorry if I worried you today, I didn’t mean to let it get like that.”

“It’s fine, we don’t need to talk about that right now.” He whispered as he placed a solid kiss against the crown of your head. “For now, let’s focus on getting you fed and rested. I don’t want you to burn yourself out, Alyssa.”

You hummed in agreement as you allowed Keigo to pull you down inside the pillow fort, it was cosy and well-constructed; you’d give him that. He pulled you into his lap as he sat amongst the sea of pillows, his wings wrapping around you like a blanket as he picked up some of the food for you. A soft snort left you as you took in the chicken that he had obviously made time to order for delivery.

“You have a thing for eating chicken, don’t you? Isn’t it weird to be eating another bird?” You hummed as you started to eat away at the food.

“Shoosh you, just eat your food.” He chuckled as he kissed the back of your neck. “Besides prey and predator baby, prey and predator.”

“Let me guess you’re the latter of the two?” You poked as you peaked back at your boyfriend, smiling as a soft hum vibrated through his body and into yours.

The soft banter went back and forth like this while you ate, all the while Keigo was working a soothing massage through your body. The moment your head began to loll, he shifted your positions and laid back with you. He draped his wing over your body as he hummed a soft tune against the top of your head.

“Thank you, Keigo…” You mumbled sleepily, your eyes slipping shut as you allowed your exhaustion to finally win out.

“Any time Baby Bird, any time.” He whispered softly, tracing his fingers through your hair momentarily before resting his forehead against the back of your head. Keigo watched you sleep, taking in the way your chest rose and fell with your soft breathing. You looked so peaceful in his eyes, it was something he would forever cherish and something he wished to protect. You were the one person he wanted to protect above all else, if time would just allow him to see you more often; if only he could promise you a future.

[omgkatsudonplease]

[ficlet, bagginshield] all’s fair in love and war (bridgerton au)

If there had been days between the Great Smials Assembly and the Bywater Ball, Thorin doesn’t notice them. The sun rises and sets as always, while he goes on visits to the Tower Hills and the Elostirion, talking with the wardens who maintain the white towers looking out to Sea. 

He’s seen so much of Eriador that he’s almost sick of it, but he just needs to tough it out for a couple more weeks before the hunt season starts in the Ered Luin. They’ll be getting there just in time for the Firebeard Midsummer Feast as well, which will be quite exciting to see. 

On the night of the Bywater Ball, Thorin forgoes his usual coach and pony. The venue is within walking distance, after all, and the night is wonderfully warm. Other people seem to have had the same thoughts, because the roads are fairly clogged with ball-goers dressed in finery. 

The dance is down by the Water, not far from the Party Field where the season-opening ball had been. Thorin can’t help but chuckle at that, remembering Bilbo colliding with him while trying to avoid Miss Bracegirdle. Why had he been so rude? He could kick his past self for it.

“Thinking about our first meeting?” wonders Bilbo’s voice at his elbow. Thorin turns, unable to stop his smile when he sees the crown of daisies in Bilbo’s hair. 

“Where did you get that?” he asks. 

“Oh, this?” Bilbo chuckles. “My cousin Prim.” He laughs. “It’s not clashing with my outfit, is it?”

Thorin’s heart skips a beat as he takes in the blue-and-silver ensemble for tonight. It’s so close to Durin blue that it hurts.

“We almost match,” he says instead. “One of us is going to have to change.”

“You should try wearing red once in a while,” replies Bilbo. “I think it would be quite fetching on you.” 

Thorin huffs in amusement, as the next dance for the ball starts to play. “Dance with me, Bilbo,” he suggests. Bilbo nods happily, and Thorin takes his hand and leads him out into the crowd. 

This dance goes in lively circles. Bilbo lets him take the lead, spinning in and out of Thorin’s arms without a second thought. Each time, Thorin counts down the seconds until Bilbo is in his arms again, his heart still weighed down by the choice he has to make tonight. 

He has to tell Bilbo his feelings. He has to apologise for breaking their agreement. And he has to prepare himself for the possibility that maybe Bilbo is still pretending, and doesn’t truly love him back. 

Thorin is so lost in thought he makes a wrong step, colliding with the other couples in their group as he does so. Bilbo apologises on his behalf, smoothing over ruffled feathers without a second glance. Thorin falls back in line quickly, gripping Bilbo’s hands behind their backs for the promenade.

Bilbo’s gaze doesn’t leave his own, not even when the lanterns in the trees surrounding the Water begin to flicker into life, drawing excited gasps from the other revellers. In the golden lantern-light, Bilbo’s face seems to glow ever-so-softly, his lips slightly parted as he continues to hold Thorin’s gaze.

It’s not the first time Thorin has imagined what Bilbo’s lips would feel like. He’s certain it won’t be the last, either. 

“Something on your mind?” wonders Bilbo as he spins out of Thorin’s arms again, changing hands with their neighbouring dancers. Thorin chuckles, especially when Bilbo returns to his side.

“You have keen eyes, Master Hobbit,” he remarks. 

Bilbo laughs. “Well, your smile is a little sadder tonight, that’s all,” he replies, and Thorin almost freezes on the spot at that.

“Sadder?” he echoes. 

“You tell me.” Bilbo gives him a bracing smile. “If I were a betting Hobbit, I would say it’s because you miss your home.” 

Thorin chuckles at that. No, if there’s something he’s going to miss, it’s probably Bilbo. Bilbo and his eggs and paintings and wit and smile — every aspect of him almost perfectly tailored to what Thorin thinks a home should be. Happy. Full of laughter. 

(No magnificent stone pillars or fluted golden banquet halls. No fear of dragons or gold, and no grief over long-lost fathers.)

The tug-of-war between his heart and his duty is making his head spin. As soon as the song ends, Thorin makes his excuses and pulls away from Bilbo’s side, striding away from the lantern-lit venue of the Bywater Ball towards the Party Field and the stately oak tree at its centre. It doesn’t take long for him to seclude himself underneath its boughs, sitting down among the roots as he tries to catch his breath. 

He’s suddenly brought back to the garden of wisteria at Long Cleeve Hall, just before Bilbo crossed paths with him that night. He’d been cornered by so many inquisitive Hobbit-lasses at the time that he’d given them all the slip at the first opportunity. This time, the only person he’s running from is the same person he wants with all of his heart to run towards. 

“Thorin?” 

Mahal’s beard, thinks Thorin in frustration. How did he know I would be here?

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” says Bilbo, suddenly appearing in front of him, kneeling down a little ways away. “You did seem a bit peaked, and... and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t through some fault of my own.”

“No,” says Thorin quickly. “It was not.”

Bilbo nods solemnly. “Okay then. I know we have one more dance, but if you needed to leave early, I can make your excuses to the rest of the lot.”

“That will not be necessary,” replies Thorin, already rising to his feet. “I do not require your pity.”

Bilbo’s eyes narrow as he rises to his feet as well. “Well, pardon me for my concern,” he replies a little peevishly, and Thorin realises a little too late that his desperation to put some sort of kingly affect to his words has evidently hurt the Hobbit. “None of this is part of the charade, if you must know. I was genuinely concerned about you, because for some Giver-forsaken reason, I’ve come to genuinely care about you.”

“I cannot afford to look weak,” says Thorin, even though this is the weakest his resolve has ever been. With his figure silhouetted by the lights of the party, Bilbo looks not of this world. Ethereal. A true-life Giver of Fruits. 

“No one said anything about you looking weak!” exclaims Bilbo, now stepping closer to him, topaz eyes flashing dangerously. “I know most of your existence is putting on a brave face for Erebor, for the Shire, for everyone else in Middle-earth, but — have you thought — have you considered that maybe there are people out there who would think you even braver if you’d step back and let them worry about you for a bit?”

Thorin is briefly struck by the sheer absurdity of it all. This Hobbit is but a brief spark in the timeline of his own life, and yet that brief spark of his is all that’s needed to set the rest of himself aflame. 

And with that flame now burning into a bonfire inside him, Thorin steps forward and captures Bilbo’s lips with his own.

~~

Bilbo cannot believe this is happening to him. Of all the possibilities out there for how this conversation between them would go, he had not seriously considered kissing to be on the table. And yet, here they are. 

Alone. Together. Kissing.

When they break apart, the Dwarf-king’s eyes fly wide open, almost apologetic. Bilbo quickly disabuses him of that notion, stepping forward and pressing Thorin into the trunk of the Party Tree. Thorin’s hands come up to tangle in his hair, pulling him close, pulling their bodies flush against one another. 

This is everything Bilbo has ever dreamed of, and more. 

There’s a sudden pause, and then the world moves so fast Bilbo’s head spins at it. The trunk of the Party Tree slams into his back, the momentary shock bursting back into white-hot pleasure as Thorin captures his lips again, and then ventures away from his lips down the curve of his jaw, the line of his neck. Bilbo gasps, arching into Thorin’s touch, his hands tugging Thorin forward by the lapels of his coat. In the distance, the Bywater Ball plays on, and they are ensconced in the distant shadows of the Party Tree, mostly hidden —

Bilbo freezes. Are they mostly hidden? What if someone saw? His respectability would absolutely come crashing down. To be caught taking such liberties without a betrothal? Why, that was absolutely unheard of for a Hobbit of his pedigree! 

Almost as if in response to Bilbo freezing, Thorin freezes too, reality crashing into him just as quickly. He steps back from Bilbo, wiping his lips with his hand. 

“My deepest apologies, Mr Baggins,” he says, the formality of his words like a knife to Bilbo’s gut. “I did not mean to behave in such an unseemly fashion.”

“N-nor I,” stammers Bilbo, his heart still rabbiting frantically in his chest. He inhales, though the very act of it feels pained at the sight of absolute misery on Thorin’s face. “But I did enjoy it.”

Thorin’s expression somehow sinks even further at that. “As per our agreement, this courtship cannot go anywhere. Even though... even though...” His expression pinches, like he’s choking on the words he needs to say. “Even though I hold you in the highest regard, I still do not intend to marry.”

Bilbo wants to laugh at that, laugh at how un-Thorin these words are even though they’re coming out of Thorin’s stupid mouth. He wants to tell Thorin to take those words and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine. But instead, all he manages to say is:

“So you would sooner see the Golden Hare hunted for another season than marry me?”

“Bilbo.” How can his name on Thorin’s lips sound so much like a prayer, even when he’s in the process of hammering Bilbo’s heart to pieces? “You know that is not what I meant —”

Bilbo sidesteps him, stumbling back from the Party Tree. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he replies, with an almost comical bow, “that I could not be of more use to you.”

And with the pieces of his heart still rattling in his chest, Bilbo turns away from the Dwarf-king and heads back towards the party.

[jasmine2042003]

Beware the Spirits of the Vengeful ~ Pt 5

Hi! Its been a while huh? Sorry about that, I’ve been a bit busy. Anyway, here is part five, based on the episode ‘Abomination’ from season 2! I was also wondering how people would feel about me turning this into more of a Derek x reader, this chapter is more about Derek but I also want to write more about Stiles and Isaac in the future! Okay on with the chapter~

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3rd Person pov:

A gasp was heard in the previously dead silent train depot, Derek’s head shot over to the previously passed out girl, Arae. (y/n) looked around at her surroundings, obviously confused by where she was and why she was unable to recall what had happened previously. 

Derek was sitting across from the teen, having been watching over her whilst she was unconscious, (y/n) looked around the damp, dark area, shooting a questioning look to the Alpha werewolf sitting close by. “Where are the others?” She asked, referencing to the teen Betas the man had chosen to turn. Derek nodded towards the exit, “School,” He responded, reminding the girl that she had to be there also.

Sitting upright in bed as quick as she could, she tried leaving the cot Derek had tucked her into, suddenly realising she was wearing nothing but a large Henley shirt. Looking down at her body, she gave another confused gaze at Derek, who looked away, almost bashfully. “When you passed out, you weren’t... wearing anything,” He muttered, “I had to give you something.” She nodded and sat back in the cot, covering her lower half.

“To ease your nerves, I called in as your guardian, used some charm to get you the day off from school.” He told her, his normal stoicism returning. For some reason, the young Arae felt something burning in the pit of her stomach, hearing that he had ‘charmed’ some random girl. “I asked Isaac and Erica to take notes for you, in classes you share.” He finished. (y/n) nodded, both in acknowledgement and gratitude. 

There was silence for a moment, allowing (y/n) to get a grasp on her surroundings and emotions, which were equally as blurry after leaving her Spirit Form. “So...” Derek began, stealing the teen’s attention once more. “How did this...” He gestured at her body, “Happen?” (y/n) looked sort of offended, leaving the man to quickly rephrase his question, “I meant the supernatural thing!” (y/n) looked down, clearing her dry throat before beginning. “I guess it’s sort of a long story.”

Flashback ~

(y/n) pov:

I smacked softly at the door of the mausoleum, I must have been doing so for hours by now, my hands were bloody and bruised from how long I had been pounding and scratching at the door. There was nothing more I could do. I turned and began looking around, my eyes having adjusted to the dark long ago. I no longer had any hope that dad would come back for me. “What did I do?” I whimpered, thinking about my family, “Why did they leave me?”

“Not everyone can live forever my darling,” I heard a soft voice from behind me, whipping my head around with a small squeak. I couldn’t see anything or anyone, I could only hear them, they seemed to be humming. A simple tune that I recognised as something my mother had sang to me, every night. “Mama?” I called timidly. 

The voice gave an amused chuckle, “Hello (n/n),” She told me, I gasped and ran to where I heard the voice, tears streaming even more quickly down my face, looking desperately for my mother. “You won’t be able to see me, dear one, not yet anyway.” She whispered. I whined slightly, but the lullaby she was humming had hastened the exhaustion that was overcoming me.

I sat against the wall of the building, listening intently to the lullaby, “I’ll see you soon, my darling girl.” Mother whispered, sending me off to a peaceful slumber.

“I don’t remember much of what happened before I died, I remember the hunger, the thirst, the aching I felt because of them. Before I passed to the other side, I remember my mother warning me, telling me not to hold onto the past, I guess I didn’t listen. Right before I left, I thought of my parents, I felt anger. Towards my father for my murder and my mother for leaving me and letting him do it, even though she seemingly had no choice. Before I knew it, I was a monster.”

When I opened my eyes, the heat surrounding me seemed to have had no effect on my body and yet it was blistering. The body that used to be aching, in hunger, dehydration and emotional turmoil, now felt nothing. I looked around at the new environment, there was fire everywhere, weeping apparitions of all ages were the only life (or dead) I could see. The place I was now in was inherently terrifying, but I didn’t feel afraid, I felt like I belonged here.

“I was there for who knows how long, I seemed to grow as I should have been growing while I was alive, getting stronger with each year that passed. I had another Arae to watch over me, her name was Yarrow, she was sort of my boss, she told me what to do and when. But I knew I would never be happy knowing that I was securing everyone else’s revenge, but still feeling completely unsatisfied with my father’s livelihood.

“I knew I needed to finish what he had started, so I made a deal with Yarrow. Something you should know Derek, making a deal, with a spirit of the dead, is incredibly dangerous business, even if she was my own kind. We agreed that, as long as she had my allegiance, I would be allowed to return to the living and destroy my father.”

“You wished for conference with me (y/n).” The older Arae in front of me stood tall and proud, her wings were a brilliant crimson, seemingly made of flames, her eyes were the incredible cerulean of our species’ magic, contrasting against the red of her feathers and our home. I nodded to her, “Yes, my mistress, I have felt that I’m not doing my best, knowing that he is still up there.” I informed her, pointing towards the ceiling and the land of the living with my sharp talons. 

Yarrow smiled warmly at me, “I’ve watched over you for the last ten solstices, I watched you grow into a wonderful Arae, I’ve noticed your internal struggle, knowing how much you blamed yourself and others hurt me, but I know you’ll do what you need to.” She explained. I looked up at her, hanging off of her every word, “Do you mean-?” 

She nodded encouragingly, “Indeed, I shall allow you to return to the living, until you have no unfinished business via yourself or other mortals.” She ordered, the feeling of the command hitting me like a hurricane, literally. When a senior Arae commanded an underling, you could feel the weight of the words envelope you. All of a sudden I was back in the mausoleum, my glowing blue eyes casting a dim hue over my young corpse in the corner. 

I pondered over Yarrow’s words, “Until you have no unfinished business via yourself or other mortals.” There was always unfinished business for mortals, they were constantly quick to want revenge, even when they cannot accept the consequences. Revenge may be a dish best served cold but no dishes are free. 

Flashback over~

Derek looked at me shocked, I wonder what he was thinking, why my father did what he did, whether or not my story was true, who knows? “You should know this Derek,” I began, watching his deep green eyes stare into my own as they began glowing once more, “We’ve been connected in mind and soul because of Kate Argent.” 

His eyes darkened, his face becoming once more, sullen. “I am aware of your anger towards her, I know what she did and I am sorry for your loss. I know you feel blame because of what she did, but who she was, wasn’t your fault.” I told him, transforming into my spirit form before leaning down to gently kiss his cheek. 

I then abruptly left, I had someone I had to meet. 

Timeskip~

??? pov:

“Boys! Slow down!” I called to my sons, barely seeing their chestnut brown hair before they disappeared in the crowded cafe. I huffed, out of breath after running after my six year old twins. I looked for my boys, seeing them looking up in awe at a teenage girl with (s/t) skin, (h/l) (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes. I couldn’t help but gape along with them, she was beautiful, she exuded an aura of confidence, but her smile was sweet.

“Hi,” She greeted with a fond smile, “Do these belong to you?” She chuckled. I shook myself out of my revere, nodding at the girl who still had that lovely smile. The smile quickly slipped from her face as she looked at my I.D badge from the hospital. “Francesca (l/n)?” She asked, I looked down at my chest and back at her, nodding with a grin. “You wouldn’t happen to know a (f/n) (l/n)?” She asked again.

“You know my husband?” I asked, she looked briefly shocked before responding. She nodded in confirmation and replied, “I’m being so rude, allow me to introduce myself, my name is (y/n) (l/n), I’m (f/n)’s daughter.” That caused me to look as shocked as she had. (f/n) had a daughter? Why wouldn’t he tell me that? “I know you must be so confused, I’ll buy you a coffee, we could maybe sit and talk? I could buy a couple of cupcakes for these two cupcakes,” She giggled, pinching the boys’ cheeks.

I nodded, still frozen in shock. I went to find a table, but the boys wanted to stay with their new big sister, I could hear them vaguely as they walked over to the counter.

“I’m Lucas! This is Ozzy, are you going to come live with us?” Lucas asked, excited as always, (y/n) chuckled and shook her head, Ozzy then almost shouted, “You’re really pretty!” (y/n) laughed loudly, ruffling his hair and leading them over to buy drinks and food.

They were only six, they probably didn’t realise the magnitude of the situation. How could (f/n) hide this from me? He was my husband, he never told me he had another daughter, or even another relationship. (y/n) soon cleared this up, “Francesca, I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” I interrupted quickly.

“Franny, please.” I told her with a weak smile, not quite getting over my shock. She nodded, after two cappuccinos and a lot more cupcakes, I knew the full story. (f/n) had been married before marrying me, her name was (m/n), she passed away when (y/n) was only four. Apparently, after her mother’s untimely passing, she went to live with her mother’s family, her father having lost custody. 

After we got through the rather awkward conversation, we actually got along quite well, she was the daughter I always wanted, my first (and hopefully only) secret step-daughter.

Timeskip~

Walking into the house, the boys beginning to run down from their sugar high, compliments of their new sister, I walked up to (f/n)’s office with purpose. As much as I wasn’t upset that he had been in a previous marriage and had a daughter with her, I was furious that he hadn’t told me! Knocking on the door, his voice from the other side allowed my entrance.

He could see the anger on my face, setting down whatever he was working on to give me his full attention. “So, I ran into someone interesting today,” I began, my voice strained, “She told me her name was (y/n).” I hadn’t fully believed the story until I saw my husband’s reaction. His eyes widened massively at her name, standing from his chair with reckless abandon. 

(f/n) pov:

Franny continued to tell me that she had ran into a girl, claiming to be my daughter, I was terrified that she knew, she had been told what I had done. (y/n), or the person posing as her, had told her that after (m/n) died, (her name still leaving a bad taste in my mouth) she had moved in with her mother’s family. As far as I knew, (m/n) didn’t have any family, so I already knew this person was not my daughter.

I wasn’t listening to Franny anymore, responding with a nod every once in a while, her anger seemed to have depleted, replaced with joy at having a wonderful daughter. I was seething, someone knew what I had done, they were taunting me, acting as my daughter. The one I had killed. Or had I?

3rd Person pov

Erica pushed Stiles harshly into the darkened pool area, Derek’s sour wolf face greeting him as he bounced a basketball back and forth ominously. “Stiles, what did you see at the mechanic’s garage?” He asked, looking expectantly. Stiles responded with the only thing he knew, sarcasm.

“Several alarming EPA violations that I’m seriously considering reporting.” He told him, all with a straight face. The look on his face told the teen that wasn’t what he was looking for, looking Stiles in the eye as he punctured the basketball with his claws, deflating it and watching as it crumpled to the ground. “Let’s try this again...” The Alpha ordered.

“Alright, the thing was pretty slick looking. Skin was dark, kind of patterned. I think I actually saw scales. Is that enough? Because I have someone I really need to talk to.” Apparently that wasn’t enough, so the boy continued.

“Okay, um... Eyes. It’s eyes are yellowish. Slitted. It had a lot of teeth.” Not noticing the look of alarm on the werewolves’ faces as they looked up behind him. “Oh and it has a tail. Okay, we good?” Stiles finally realised what was happening, “What? Have you seen it? You’ve got this look like you know exactly what I’m talking about.” The human spun around and looked at whatever they could see, just as the creature leapt from the wall.

Erica darted in front of her Alpha, trying to protect him but the thing moved too fast for her. Whipping towards her, it shoved the Beta across the floor, her head knocking brutally into the wall, a small yelp accidentally alerting a certain being before she slumped unconscious. Derek saw what had happened to his poor Beta, beginning to fight the creature. 

The fight continued, the man trying to protect the sarcastic human from harm. “Get behind me,” Derek ordered, Stiles nodding and retreating behind him, once he does, he notices a bloody slash against the back of the werewolf’s neck. “Derek, your neck...” The man turned around, his hand reaching for his neck just as his leg’s gave out. The paralysis took hold as Derek dropped to his knees.

The two stumble around, Stiles trying to grab his phone from his pocket and Derek keeping watch. As the creature emerged from the darkness, slowly and methodically, Derek’s strength failed, Stiles lost his balance, dropping his phone and Derek slipped from his grip, tumbling into the pool.

Without a moments hesitation, Stiles jumped in after the sinking man, the water splashing as the two burst to the surface, gasping for air. They looked for the creature, hoping out loud that it had fled, only for a piercing shriek to come from the darkness, “Maybe not.” Derek responded. 

Timeskip~

 “Get me out of here before I drown!” Derek shouted, as Stiles began to struggle to carry the weight of the man. “You’re worried about drowning? Did you notice the thing out there with multiple rows of razor-sharp teeth?” The snarky boy replied. He could almost feel the fury rising in the Lycan as he responded, “Did you notice I’m paralysed from the neck down in eight feet of water!?”

Stiles gave in, beginning to paddle towards the edge of the pool, not seeing the odd thing that was terrorising them. “Stop!” Derek shouted, both of them spotting the glowing yellow eyes at the other side of the pool. “What’s it waiting for?” Stiles asked shakily. The supernatural didn’t respond, his eyes trained purposefully on the creature, as if trying to figure out the answer.

Breathlessly, Stiles adjusted his grip on Derek, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” The creature continued circling his prey, Stiles’ eyes focusing on the phone on the wet tiles nearby. “Don’t even think about it.” Derek commanded. 

“Can you trust me for half a second?” Stiles asked exasperated, getting a blatant, “No.” In response. “I’m the one keeping you alive if you hadn’t noticed.” The boy almost yelled, becoming more and more over-exerted. 

“When the paralysis wears off, who’s the one who’s going to be able to fight that thing? You or me?” Stiles considered the options he had, asking if that had been why he’d been holding him up for two hours. “Yes. You don’t trust me. I don’t trust you. But you need me to survive. Which is why you’re not letting me go.” 

Looking Derek in the eye, Stiles lets go, immediately heading for his phone as Derek sinks to the pool floor. Snatching his phone from the tiles, he turns to see the creature coming straight for him, forcing him to make a desperate leap for the pool. His hand shot out from the water, his last attempt to call for help, as he dials Scott’s number. 

“I can’t talk right now.” Scott’s voice sounded from the speaker, before promptly hanging up. Stiles looked at his phone screen, completely gobsmacked at what had just happened. He looked down at the black figure, blurry at the bottom of the pool, having no other choice, he let the phone go and dived to save Derek. The two broke the surface of the water once again, gasping for air.

“Tell me- you got him.” Derek practically pleaded, his voice broken with gasps. Stiles refused to answer, his face telling the other man all he needed to know. The sound of glass breaking overhead scared the both of them, clawed fingers reaching down to grab the two, keeping them in the pool but above the water. 

Stiles released his grip on the werewolf, relief flooding through his arms. Sighing, Stiles looked up at whoever had saved them, yelping in surprise at the sight of the winged beauty. It was (y/n). Her eyes were glowing a deep blue, her body was covered in dark feathers and, most importantly, she had huge wings protruding from her back, flapping softly to keep them afloat.

She seemed to be keeping the two men in her hold with no problem, proving her incredible strength. Her bright eyes were quietly observing the creature from afar. Scott then appeared, with his claws and fangs dropped, letting out a fearsome roar. He seemed to be confused, not quite knowing which creature to attack, the one holding his friend and former mentor, or the one still circling the pool. 

His dilemma was quickly answered when the scaly creature wrapped its tail around his leg, lifting him off of the floor and and hurtling him towards a wall mirror. Glass shattered, lifting (y/n)’s attention from the men in her arms, she carried them to the pool side, dropping them as gently as she could, before rushing to help Scott. The creature inched ever closer to Scott, in desperation, he grabbed a shard of the broken mirror to use as a weapon.

That’s when it happened. The creature stopped its attack, focusing on its reflection in the shard, it seemed confused by it. As though it didn’t know what it was. Baring its teeth in a shriek, the creature hissed at itself and retreated, leaping onto the wall and darting out of one of the high windows, disappearing into the night. 

Realising that everyone else was fine, (y/n) fled to attend to Erica, who was slowly coming to. Helping her and Derek outside to follow Scott and Stiles, who were at the hood of a car, plugging some USB into a laptop. They seemed to be distressed about something, “That’s not English.” Scott decided, looking at the random letters and symbols. 

“Is that even a language?” Stiles replied.

“How are we supposed to figure out what this thing is?” Scott questioned, looking even more confused. 

“It’s called a Kanima.” Derek called from over their shoulders, with a revived Erica and winged (y/n) at his side. Stiles looked at the three incredulously, “You knew this whole time?” Derek shook his head, the teens attention quickly being taken over by (y/n), “Only when it was confused by its own reflection.” She told them. Scott stood on guard, looking at the odd supernatural.

“It doesn’t know what it is.” He confirmed. 

“Or who.” Derek continued. Stiles asked the man what else he knew, “Just stories and rumours. A shapeshifter, but not right. It’s...” He paused, looking for the right word. 

“An abomination.” (y/n) finished, looking personally hurt by the word. Derek, looking worried at the young girl, finishing his interaction with the boys, “I know one thing, when I find it, I’m going to kill it.”

(y/n) pov

‘It seems as though phase three may have to wait.’

____________________________

So... this one was a lot longer than all the other chapters, it may have seemed a bit monotonous to read, I don’t know, my writing tends to get a bit crap after two thousand words. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed part five! Once again, if you want to be notified when a new chapter for this series is posted, just comment and ask to be added to the taglist! Love you guys! Xxx

[raz-b-rose]

Donsy Week 2020: Day 4: Future

This one twisted in such a way even I was surprised lol. Liked the experiment and will probably rewrite it sometime. 

Words: 1705

@donsyweek

Donald always thought he could plan his whole life out, and his teacher encouraged that mindset with the constant writing of future plans. He always thought he would graduate high school and go to college for a degree that could take him anywhere. He would travel, sailing the seas of the world. That was not how everything has played out so far. 

The war happened, and he was drafted fresh out of high school. He sailed the seas alright, just not in the way he desired. It was a difficult choice on whether or not to make friends during his time in the military. He could lose any of them at a moment's notice, but spending that much time together it was inevitable that a brotherhood would be formed. 

He saw the world, but he wished he could forget some things. The rubble of the cities they patrolled for survivors or made their base camp were seared into his mind. He could smell the smoke and taste the dust still to this day. 

He hated camping and campfires now. He hated canned food, he hated the smell of plaster and he hated the feel of sand and dirt beneath his feet.

Afterwards, returning home to Della and Scrooge, part of him was chipped away at by his experiences and his memories constantly taunting him with the inability to put himself back together. 

Della understood, to a degree. She flew for the army, delivering troops and supplies. She was never in war zones though, rarely saw the aftermath of battles. She tried to help, she tried to get Donald to talk.

However talking to someone, only months after returning home, who did not fully understand his experiences was difficult. He did not want to share the knowledge of war with his sister, he wanted her to live knowing nothing of the horrors he saw. It was easier to share with someone who already had that same knowledge. 

Donald sat on a  bench across from the sea. He was thankful that despite everything, his love for the sea was left untampered with. He could watch the waves all day. He did watch the waves all day. Scrooge didn’t know how to handle the changes in Donald, so for the most part he had left him alone. Alone to relive and process everything while staring out at the water. 

The sun reflected off it now, the early morning chill in the air ineffective towards him. Even after all this time at home, he still rose before the sun, the still peacefulness of the mornings, before others took to their respective days, a reminder that he fought to save these mornings for everyone else and that was good. 

The sun made its way above the horizon little by little, the colors gaining a purple and pink hue blending with the blue of the sky and the sea. The asymmetrical blob that was the sun quickly gained power and was impossible to look at anymore. 

So he closed his eyes, relishing in the salty air and humid breeze. He took in the creaky, warped weather worn wood of the bench with his fingers. He sat there every morning and knew every groove and divot of this wood almost as well as he knew the wood of his boat. 

The wood shifted, a weight taking occupancy beside him. He didn’t open his eyes, wanting to prepare himself in his bubble a little while longer. Interactions with the citizens of Duckburg were still challenging, something he knew he had to work on to regain a sense of normalcy. Not for him, he would never be normal again, but for the citizens. So they could be comfortable in their innocence around him. 

Slowly he opened his eyes, the sky now a lighter purple, pink all but gone, and blue taking control with the sun to declare the day had begun. He glanced at his seat partner, surprised to find a young woman as the occupant. 

She looked around his age, her feathers white and perfectly held back in the fashion he had seen most women wearing these days. He wasn’t sure what it was called. Della wasn’t one to take notice of fashion trends, so he himself never knew. 

Her hands were placed delicately in her lap, eyes closed as she too seemed to be talking in the morning. He saw her take a few deep breaths, so he elected to leave her to her thoughts, still deciding himself if he would even strike up conversation with her when she was done. 

Looking back to the water, he watched the waves push and pull, a constant game of tug of war. A battle of the elements. A battle of nature. Something natural and uncontrollable to man. Maybe mankind had taken too much inspiration from the natural world around them. 

She adjusted herself beside him, reminding him of her presence. Her eyes were now open and Donald couldn’t help but stare. This woman was not only his age physically, but it seemed spiritually as well. 

She had a heaviness to her eyes and a haunted look to her soul. She met his gaze as well, their shared memories being exchanged with a single glance. He saw the way her hands shook the slightest, a broken smile offered to him. 

“Daisy.” She said softly, holding out her hand. 

“Donald” Her hand was not soft. It had a roughness to it that spoke to her experience and sacrifice. 

“It’s a beautiful morning.”

“It truly is” 

They didn’t speak anymore after that, letting the wind converse for them, the waves adding their own opinions. One by one, people leave their homes, people passing by in front of them, blocking the view. 

Donald stands, offering a hand to Daisy. She takes it without hesitation. Both of them were quick to break contact however, both walking deeper into the city with no destination in mind. Donald observes as men dash down the side walks, almost all of them checking their watches while they walk. Women had their own sense of urgency, walking as quickly as they could in their heels, moving politely through the crowd. 

“Would you like to join me for breakfast?” Her voice holds a gentleness, quiet and sad. 

“I would be honored” He follows her into a shop Donald swore wasn’t here before the war, but he could never be too sure. 

He sips on his coffee, watching the patrons outside the window, the waitress having just left the table with their orders. He hears the clink of her spoon as she stirs her own coffee. Besides Della, she was the first woman he met that drank coffee almost as black as he did. 

“It's strange isn't it,” He says quietly, “It's almost as if nothing has changed, but we both know that isn’t the case.”

She hums in response, lowering the cup from her lips, “I only just returned,” His eyes widen a little, while she takes to looking out the window, her eyes clouded with memories. “I was a nurse, trying to rebuild something, anything for the survivors.”

Donald felt guilt bubble in his gut, grief weighing heavily on his shoulders. “I was no help in that department, I can barely hold myself together on a good day”

“Nothing wrong with that, the things we’ve seen, it's enough to haunt you for three lifetimes” She whispered, slowly looking back at him.

He laughs dryly, “I was going to travel the world, but now, I think I’ve seen enough”

She laughs as well, “Yeah, but home feels just as foreign right now, does that ever change?”

“I still feel that way too, I don’t know if it will. I hope so.”

The waitress returns, placing their food in front of them. She offers them a blinding smile and a command to enjoy before flouncing over to another table. He picks at his eggs, still having trouble with his appetite even after all this time.

“What are your plans now?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I used to think about my future all the time, but now it just seems so clouded and impossible”

She nods, taking a bite of her own eggs, “I don’t think I can be a nurse anymore, not right now anyway”

“Enough for three lifetimes,” He reiterates, she whispers the words again herself, gaining that far off look once again.  

Donald looks back out the window, taking notice of all the families and couples and friends and single people all going about their lives. He glanced back at Daisy. It was easier to talk to someone who already shared in the knowledge and he knew he had to talk eventually. 

“Would you be interested in being foreigners together?”

“That sounds nice,” Again her tone was soft, but there was less of an element of sadness to it now. And so two foreigners in their home city shared a delicious breakfast. 

Donald always thought he could plan his whole life out, and his teacher encouraged that mindset by writing about future plans. He always thought he would travel, sailing the seas of the world. That was not how everything has played out.  

Donald jumped, gasping in surprise at the dull pain on his stomach. He wiped the sleep from his eyes, shaking off the remnants of his dream, slowly gaining his bearings. 

“Dad! Come play with me! No more sleeping! ”Lying across his stomach, with wide eyes and an even wider smile was Thomas. He ruffled his feathers, slowly sitting up in his chair, adjusting his son so he sat on his lap. 

“Donald, what have I told you about afternoon naps? Now you’re going to be up late again tonight” Daisy enters the house, closing the door behind her, scolding Thomas for leaving the door open again. 

“Yes Ma’am,” He sassed, smirking at Daisy’s glare, rising to kiss her, prolonging the kiss when Thomas started to shout his disgust. She smacked him gently on the shoulder, kissing his cheek before leaving the boys alone. 

Donald wasn’t too sure how his future would look for a short period of his life but now, with Daisy and Thomas, he knew it was a good one.

[sophi-s]

Day 29 #Grief

Whoops. I actually ended up writing a short piece for this one as well and uh... I think I accidentally created a new ship... :O

To Mourn Together

By: sophi-s (me)

Franchise: Darksiders video games

Words: 1 961

Warnings: None

Characters: Uriel, Nathaniel, Abaddon (mentioned)

_________________________________________

With utmost certainty, one could say it was one of the brightest nights in the White City. Of course, with the buildings in the color of gilded snow, every night seemed bright. But that one particular night the full moon spilled its cold, silver light all over the angelic city, bathing it in a pale glow that reflected in the smooth surfaces and illuminated the warm darkness as the gentle gusts of wind blew through the quiet and empty plaza.

Aside from the sentries patrolling the streets, all of the Heaven's denizens were long asleep in their homes. All of them.

Except for one.

A figure of a lonely angel threads lightly through the city, grand white wings folded neatly at his sides, just like his hands behind his back. His golden battle armor is discarded in favor of a simple set of clothes. There's nothing threatening him after all. Lost in thought, he doesn't acknowledge guards greeting him as he passes by. He walks seemingly without purpose, reconsidering the not so recent events.

Your friend serves the Shadow.

The Archon? Corrupted?!

Impossible!

Leave me, Horseman. I must think of what to do now…

He shook his head with an exasperated sigh. One hundred years. It's been over one hundred years since all of this happened. And yet, all this felt far too fresh in his head. As though it happened merely yesterday. Sweeping his gaze over his surroundings, he realised he'd left for the outskirts of the White City, where the grand Tree of Life stands tall and magnificent as it has since the day Heaven was created. But to his surprise, he wasn't alone here after all. At the foot of the Tree, his keen white eyes spotted another angel. A woman. The same silver hair, any other angel possesses, fluttering on the wind, wings of golden, radiant feathers slumped sadly against her back as she stood there, gazing out at the locked gate to the Well of Souls. Strange. He assumed he would be alone.

Since he wasn't trying to sneak up on her, she heard him approach quite early and whipped around to face him, her own robes billowing, but the moment she laid her golden eyes on him she simply sighed.

"Oh. It's just you, Nathaniel.."

"So it is."

Nathaniel murmured, silently wondering who she'd been actually expecting, and stood for a few long moments, looking at her. A black ribbon with a darkened feather tied around her right wrist caught his attention and something twisted painfully in his chest. Even blackened and bathed in Hellish corruption, the ribbon was unmistakable and the feather spoke for itself..

"What are you doing here, Uriel?"

He found himself asking nonetheless. It's been a long while since they last talked. After all, Nathaniel had been sent away from the Hellguard shortly after Uriel joined their ranks. And it was so long ago.. Humming quietly, Uriel turned away to look up at the Tree's tangled canopy of small fluttering leaves.

"A year…"

She sighed when Nathaniel came closer and stood beside her, watching her stare into the black sky where the moon gazed down on them like a gigantic, round eye.

"It's been a year since Abaddon died.. exactly a year, day to day."

Nathaniel nodded in agreement, looking at Uriel's fingers absent mindedly stroking the end of the ribbon tied around her forearm. Even though he'd been away from the White City for quite some time, rumours about the commander of the Hellguard reached Nathaniel even in Lostlight. If they were true, then no wonder Uriel takes Abaddon's demise so personally. He could only imagine what was going on in her head throughout this year. He wasn't going to stop her from spitting out what she'd been choking up inside of her.

"And yet.. I still sometimes wonder. If I should've done something. Stopped War… I don't know."

"He'd been the Destroyer, Uriel. As much as I disagree with it, you couldn't do anything else for him."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Uriel huffed and lowered her head.

"I know. But… I still have this in my head. The sight of him reaching out to me for help. What if…"

She hesitated, something that was very unlike her. Nathaniel raised his eyebrows curiously, waiting for her to speak up. He had his suspicions from the moment Death brought the news of Abaddon's fate and he couldn't help but wonder if Uriel thought the same way.

"I refuse to believe he'd planned it from the beginning. What if all of it wasn't his choice? He can't have been in his right mind! What if before War killed him, in his last moments Abaddon, the real Abaddon, came back? What if… there was still something worth saving in him?"

Nathaniel's suspicions turned out to be true. She thought just like he had. Now it was his turn to look up at the sky. Indeed, there was something so enchanting about this particular night..

"I wondered myself, Uriel. Many times in fact…"

The younger angel crossed her arms and glared down at her boots as though they'd done something wrong. The branches of the Tree creaked mournfully as the wind tugged on them and ruffled feathers of both angels standing below. Its gusts were getting stronger and its voice whistling against nearby structures brought to mind a sorrowful cry of a lost soul.

"Abaddon taught me everything I know. I had known him my whole life. It feels so… empty without him."

I can't believe he's gone. That's what she truly meant to say and Nathaniel knew it but said nothing of it. He knew that feeling quite well. Better than most. Abaddon had been his friend after all…

"Sometimes I feel like he's still here. Watching over me like he always has.."

Uriel chuckled humorlessly, as though she meant to laugh off the ridiculousness of her claim but Nathaniel didn't feel like laughing. He laid his hand on Uriel's shoulder, nearly making her jump in the process.

"Who says he isn't?"

He could clearly see her jaw visibly clench tightly at his assumption. Not that he could blame her. Nathaniel knew all too well what Uriel was going through. He didn't want anyone to feel like he does and he wished to offer her comfort, compassion. But it's not easy to do so while he grieves as well.

"Do you think I could've changed it?"

Uriel suddenly asked, making Nathaniel's eyebrow wander up.

"During the initial Endwar.. Do you think if I was a little faster back then…"

"Uriel."

The deep tone of his voice had just the result he was counting on as she cut off to finally look him in the eye. Nathaniel placed his other hand on her other shoulder and said sternly

"Even if so, it doesn't change anything. We can't turn back time. Thinking this way won't make you feel better."

"And how could you possibly know?"

It was just the matter of time before Uriel snapped and brushed Nathaniel's hands from her shoulders. There was fire in her eyes, burning like the hottest blaze of Hell.

"You don't know how I feel."

Frowning gently, Nathaniel heaved out a long suffering sigh.

"Quite the opposite in fact.. I know exactly how you feel…"

This seemed to have given Uriel a pause.

"I've known Abaddon even longer than you have. He was my close friend, one of the very few I had. When the news of his fall reached me I kept wondering if it would've been different if I was there. This one, wretched thought stayed with me for a whole century, like a festering wound that refuses to heal. If you seek understanding, I assure you, you will find it in me."

Would it have been different if I knew of the darkness that threatened Lucien? Sometimes he still has those doubts... In shock, Uriel opened her mouth a couple of times only to shut it again as she couldn't find suitable words. Until..

"I'm… sorry. I had no idea…"

With an unhappy smile, Nathaniel shook his head. He wasn't going to take offense. Grief does strange things to people. Uriel snapping at him wasn't the worst thing that could've happened.

"Past cannot be changed. Blaming yourself will not bring you peace of mind. We must march into the future."

Snickering quietly, Uriel looked away.

"You speak words of wisdom.. But I cannot decide if they help me either."

Humming thoughtfully, Nathaniel measured Uriel. Her heart was bleeding profusely, even though she kept it hidden away. He knew how to recognise inner turmoil. From his own experience.. Fortunately, he knew just the way. And honestly, after all this.. Abaddon's treason, Lucien's collapse into the hateful darkness.. he probably needed it as much as she did. Carefully, but insistently, Nathaniel reached out to Uriel and gently pulled her into his arms.

"Nathaniel? What.. are you doing?"

Uriel didn't stop him, probably because of confusion and surprise. Not getting pushed away was a small victory in itself. He was more than happy to explain it to her. Going back to memories of that peculiar human who accompanied Death everywhere always warmed his heart.

"A good friend of mine had told me once that embraces can bring comfort. Especially in sorrow. Does it help you ?"

For a long moment Uriel didn't answer. She was thinking. Up this close Nathaniel could feel her heart rapidly hammering against her ribcage. But then she finally returned the embrace and placed her head on his chest with a heavy sigh.

"It does. Even if a little.."

A tiny note of wonderment in her voice was barely perceptible but definitely there. For a few minutes both angels stood like that in silence before Uriel spoke again.

"Do you think he's at peace? Abaddon, I mean…"

Staring at the shorter angel in his arms, Nathaniel harrumphed. The Charred Council was surely bent on condemning Abaddon, sentencing him to damnation even after his death. He only hoped that the Horsemen made short work of them before they were able to fulfill their dire promises and cast the already tormented soul into Oblivion. Nothing was sure. The only way to confirm either was to travel to the Kingdom of the Dead. Nathaniel couldn't say for certain that Abaddon has his rest or if his spirit in this very moment wastes away in nothingness. The mere thought made his stomach churn. But he didn't speak his fears out loud. He didn't dare.

"I do sincerely hope so…"

An answer as good as any, he supposed. It wasn't a "yes" but neither it was a "no". Perhaps it would be just enough..

"Thank you, Nathaniel.. I'm glad you came here…"

Somehow, an odd, heavy presence lingering about was abruptly lifted from the air when Uriel whispered into the edge of his coat but stayed motionless where she was, unwilling  and not ready to pull away just yet. Mourning is always easier with a companion. For just a second Nathaniel could've sworn he saw something… someone… move out of the corner of his eye but just as suddenly as they appeared, they were gone. It was most likely nothing. Just a fleeting trick of his imagination. Nathaniel rested his chin on top of Uriel's head and closed his eyes, listening to the wind blowing gently overhead and to her heart beating right next to his own. Two different rhythms that seemed the same. He didn't wish to leave just yet either. Luckily, he didn't have to. There was no need for hurry. It was still the middle of the night. No one will see them here, vulnerable and weak, slowly mending their broken hearts from the pieces.

They still had time…

_________________________________________

Bear with me, I just wanted those sad dorks to lift each other's spirits up. It's not my fault that I'm so trash 😂

At least I drew Nathaniel properly, as I promised :P

Darksiders Inktober drawing prompts by @imagine-darksiders

[akutagawasbitches]

Hi! I just saw your first post and I inmediately thought of something I really wanted to read. What about some fluff between Yosano and a female ADA!reader who got hurt in a mission? They can be already a couple, pining for each other or be just good friends, your choice. Idk, I just love Yosano and feel a bit fluff-starved. If any of this doesn't sit well with you, feel free to ignore me, of course. Good luck with this blog 🖤

Thank you so much and I love this idea (I am a slut for anything to with Yosano she’s my queen 🖤). I hope you like this, I went with more secret crush on each other route!

 You lay there in the hospital bed drained. You were on a mission with Atsushi and Kenjii but it went wrong and you got knocked out and it hurt like a bitch. You only joined the Agency a few months ago and up until now, you’d never been to the infirmary. But you heard stories about Yosano’s ‘treatment’ and you couldn’t help but feel afraid. She was so intimidating but everything you wanted to be.  A strong, fiercely passionate woman who doesn’t take shit. Nothing like you. You were quiet and rather shy, never ruffling any feathers. You remembered the first day you saw her and how she stole the breath from your lungs. It was your first day at the Agency and you were so nervous, Atsushi was showing you around when she walked into the room. You noticed her butterfly hairclip glinting in the sun and you were speechless. She walked over to you and smiled, reaching her hand out for you to shake it but all you could do is stand there frozen like a statue in awe of her and her beauty. She laughed and grabbed your hand and shook it, causing you to blush.

 After that embarrassing moment, you avoided her when you could, her gaze made he feel burning hot and you could feel your cheeks heating up. But when you’d join Dazai and the others for lunch at the café below, she’d always talk to you, making small talk and smiling at you. Of course you’d respond but you always were stumbling over your words which made her laugh. She probably thought you were an idiot and was laughing at you. Now you’re in the infirmary after being knocked out with a rock, of course she’d think you’re an idiot. Suddenly you heard the door open and you looked up. Standing in the doorframe was Yosano, her signature hairclip in her hair with her gloves on and medical bag next to her. You took a deep breath and braced yourself for whatever was coming. She reached into her bag and you saw all the sharp utensils glinting in the sunlight. You couldn’t help but sweat at seeing all those sharp utensils. “Wait! Please can you something less sharp? I…uh don’t do well around sharp objects” you blurt out. She looks up and stares at you and starts to giggle. You sink lower into the bed, pulling the covers up to hide your red cheeks. “What makes you think I’ll be using any of these on you?” Yosano quipped smiling. “Well Atsushi and Tanizaki told me about your … methods and I thought you’re here to treat me so I assumed that those were for me…” Yosano blinked and laughed “ You have a minor head injury Y/N, a cut. Nothing that’s in need of my ability so for now all I’ll be using is this” she said, holding up a wet rag and bandages. “Oh” you said, embarrassed that you assumed your injury was that bad. Smiling she sat down next to you on your bed and gently wiped off the blood trickling from your cut. Her hand gently cupped your face as her other hand wiped away the blood causing you to turn 50 shades of pink. “there that’s the blood taken care of. Now do I have your permission to bandage you up? Or is this bandage too sharp for you” teased Yosano smirking slightly. “Uhh no it’s fine, thank you.” You replied sheepishly. “Good.” replied Yosano as she carefully wrapped the bandage around your head. “Well that’s all unless you need something else from me?” asked Yosano, tilting her head to the side quizzically. You sat there quietly about to shake your head no when you remembered something. Atsushi had a tiny injury yet Yosano used her ability on him. Your injury was worse than his so why didn’t she use her ability on you….? Sighing softly Yosano stood up and started to walk towards the door when you exclaimed “Wait! Why did you use your ability on Atsushi and not me? My injury was far worse.” Yosano turned around and smiled softly. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I know you’re afraid of me, so I didn’t want to give you a reason to be more afraid of me” she replied quietly. You blinked in disbelief. “I’m…I’m not scared of you! You’re just intimidating because you’re so beautiful!” you blurted out. “I can’t speak around you because I’m in pure of you and your power. You exude so much confidence and just radiance that I can’t help but feel nervous around you.” Yosano blinked at your outburst then she started to giggle. “Oh? You find me intimidating? Well that explains why you run away like a little mouse when I look at you or blush 50 shades of red.” She smirked “Well I have to admit I also didn’t want to use my ability so I could spend more time looking after you and playing doctor. I never get to spend time with you, and I wanted to have some time alone together” she admitted, blushing slightly.

You sat there in shock. You didn’t expect that kind of response. “Wait why would you want to spend some time alone with me?” you asked confused. Yosano stared at you in disbelief. How could you be this dense she thought to herself. “Because I like you Y/N. I’ve been flirting with you for months ever since you got here but you never seemed to notice so I thought spending some time alone would be better and more obvious.” She replied with a slightly exasperated look on her face. “oh. OH!” you exclaimed realising what she just said. “Well I…uh I like you too” you replied blushing heavily and hiding your face under the cover. Smiling she gently pulled the covers off your face and cupped you face with her and placed a soft gentle kiss on you lips. “Well then wanna go get boba?” she asked grinning.

[hijitae]

This was an ask I received on my main blog from a few years ago. I never got around to answering it at the time since I had gone on indefinite hiatus. I thought I would answer it here, now that a side blog exists for HijiTae purposes. The original Anon may not frequent Tumblr anymore, but here is a reply. My apologies for such a long delay. HijiTae was/is the only ship I discuss publicly on my main blog (due to its rare pair status), so it was okay to ask at that time.

Your message was a delight to receive. I’m always happy to hear from and learn that people started to consider Hijikata x Tae as a possibility because of my analyses, meta posts, and general rambling about them. 2021 marks my 14th year of shipping HijiTae, so I’ve seen a lot and done as much promotion for them as I could (hence this “retirement” blog), and I gained new friends as a result.

Now, onto the rest of your message:

In the old days of shipping, people were much more open-minded about multi-shipping and understood that just because you shipped one ship didn’t mean you were closed off to another. Today, not so much, I find - people’s feathers get easily ruffled at anyone who dares to ship against majority or consider different and new possibilities. For a series that promotes diversity and kindness, large parts of its fandom certainly engage a lot in rigorous gatekeeping against those who possess different viewpoints. It’s why I stayed away from fandom at large for more than a decade.

I think there is some distinction to make between viewing Hijikata as a “loner” vs “lonely.” I can get on board with Hijikata being a loner for the rest of his life in the romance department. It certainly fits the whole tragic romance trope with the survivor deciding not to love again; that they would only ever love that one person. For me, that works on some characters (across other series), but for Hijikata - well, I started shipping him with Tae from episode 18′s filler material and the Yagyuu arc’s canon moments. I shipped HijiTae before the Mitsuba Arc even aired, so I was already on board with them before I had been introduced to Mitsuba. I can just as easily see Hijikata by himself as I can see him with Tae for the remainder of his life. That’s the beauty of being free to imagine all kinds of possibilities.

I’m not going to speak too much of HijiMitsu here (especially since it would be a very unpopular opinion), but I didn’t really take to that ship - not because I was already shipping HijiTae but rather those kinds of ships aren’t as interesting to me as others. Usually in ships where one partner dies or is deceased already, people mourn over how they should’ve been together or say no one else can be with the surviving partner. Constantly lamenting over the tragedy of it all is just not for me. Also, the Stern Samurai x Yamato Nadeshiko type is a conventional ship that has been done many times over. It’s just not appealing to me within the context of Gintama. (Apologies to HijiMitsu fans, but hey, it’s a free fandom life, we all like and think differently.)

Mitsuba is a good soul, who should have received more spotlight, but Sorachi chose to use her only for Okita and Hijikata’s development as characters, and then the story never mentions her again except through a couple of subtle nods. I’ve nothing against her, and I don’t have a problem with people who ship HijiMitsu. That’s their preference. It only becomes a problem when people start drifting out of their lane to come into mine and tell me how I shouldn’t have my own preference but theirs only.

Anyway, this leads me to the “lonely” aspect and why I ship HijiTae. Hijikata is one of my most favourite characters, and I’d rather not envision him as feeling sad and lonely for the rest of his life. While Sorachi doesn’t delve into it, I like to think that Hijikata has come to terms with Mitsuba’s passing, his lack of action and communication, and general regrets over how he handled that situation. He’s a different person now, able to make better choices that won’t end with him regretting that he didn’t say or do enough. Mitsuba is so kind that I’m sure she already forgave him - back then and before the end. She’d want him to live on happily, regardless of what form that happiness takes. In the long run, I believe Hijikata would be able to let go of that regret, forgive himself in the process, and face the future more optimistically.

That’s where the shipping aspect comes in - Hijikata unexpectedly finding his second love in Tae (for many reasons I’ve outlined in past posts). Falling in love again is not a bad thing and it doesn’t mean one forgets or cares less for their first love. Sometimes the unexpected happens in life. Like I said, I can picture Hijikata living out the rest of his days alone and content with it AND I can also picture Hijikata sharing his life with Tae, likewise content at being granted a second chance at love (also, Togoro!). This is why HijiTae is a ship that challenges status quo; it promotes growth, moving forward, and letting your heart - after all the pain it has been through - love again. And I love that kind of ship best.

This post has been focused mostly on Hijikata because of the second half of your message, but there will be a series of posts on this blog regarding Tae and her half of this ship in which I address counterarguments and misconceptions for both.

Thank you once more for your message, although you probably might not see this reply! Again, sorry about that.

[zzariyowords]

alright, alright. i’m posting this in hopes that it’ll push me to finish the actual update.

here’s a 5 page worth of words I wrote out for the next update when I was so invested in my thoughts of meelo that I totally and completely forgot how the climax and ending was supposed to go and didn’t think of how this would rock the boat too much. i hope one or two people will get a kick out of this. maybe foam a little at the mouth like i did. i’ll consider it a piece of my AU’s AU lol

there’s like. A spoiler but it’s not much of a spoiler, I think. Also I haven’t looked at it or edited it in a while so there may be some mess ups.

____

They went back to drinking their tea until mid-sip, Revali asked, “Speaking of, why did you follow me up there in the first place? Was there something?” Immediately, Meezuli’s whole face tightened and it was clear that there was definitely something.

“I-Well, you know-” She was tripping over what should have been a simple question, averting her eyes from Revali until she gave an awkward smile and blurted, “I originally came up to punch you for upsetting Meelo.”

They both blinked.

Revali frowned, as his first reaction was to be insulted that she came to hit him, up until he thought about how shocked and sad Meelo looked after he overheard him and Teba. And then his stomach dropped the same way it did then.

He had just assumed, or rather, hoped, that Meelo left because he genuinely felt like he was interrupting, not because he was that upset. Stupid.

“I upset him that much?”

Meezuli ground her beak and nearly tossed her saucer onto the floor so she could slap her hands on her knees. “You did! And I wonder why. Maybe ‘cause you screamed about fucking Link in front of him, you idiot!”

“But why would he be so upset to warrant you to punch me?” Revali squawked back.

Instantly, Meezuli’s face went blank and she was quiet for a second. “Oh. Oh, you don’t know, do you?”

Revali folded his arms. “What don’t I know?”

“How Lo feels about you…?”

His cheek feathers ruffled. He scratched his face and looked away. “Well...I...I know that sometimes things got...Well, maybe a little intimate between us, but I didn’t that it-”

Meezuli ground her beak again. “That it what? That it didn’t mean anything?” She threw her hands up to grab onto Revali’s face and knocked on his skull. “For our Champion, you really don’t have anything knocking around in that giant head of yours, do you?!”

With what limited control he had of his face with Meezuli’s clutching onto him, he grimaced and spat, “Excuse me?”

As a response, Meezuli started to shake him and yelled in his face, “Meelo is head over heels for you, birdbrain! Totally nuts, bonkers, wacko over you!”

Every feather on Revali’s body stood on end. And his skin underneath it scorched.

He had known that there was something, but nothing that serious. Not serious enough that knowing what happened between him and Link would hurt him.

Revali was caught between feeling immeasurably guilty and inexplicably happy, knowing how Meelo felt. Knowing the real meaning behind Meelo's words when he told Revali how much he meant to him. 

“Everyone in the village knows it. Except you, apparently!”

“For...For how long?” He hesitantly asked, his beak bone dry.

“Basically since the beginning! How could you not-” She released Revali, groaning, then balled up her fists. “Din Almighty, I want to punch you so hard right now.”

Revali tried to flatten his feathers, trying to get them to stay down, but he couldn’t. All he could do was think of Meelo. Think of how during all the nights Revali was thinking about Link, Meelo was probably thinking about him the same way. About all those moments that Revali brushed off to go back to thinking about Link, and much they probably meant to Meelo.

“But...I…”

Meezuli let out a guttural sigh, rolled her head. “Meelo was so upset because he’s so into you and lately really thought he could have a serious chance. Even when Link was here and you two were attached at the hip, both me and Teba told him he didn’t have anything to worry about. Because, you know, everyone in Hyrule knows he’s engaged to that stuck up fish prince. But then you-” She balled her fists up and groaned again, loudly, up at the roof.

“I thought you said you were on my side!” Revali spat, brushing down his crown.

She huffed, then waved her hands. “I am, I am. I just can’t help but be mad on Meelo’s behalf, okay?” Clasping her hands together, she went on. “But, because I know Meelo can get over this and you’re dealing with a lot more...I will try to be unbiased. And from my unbiased standpoint, I gotta ask this again.” Meezuli leaned in and pointed her hands at Revali. “How do you feel about Lo?”

Revali sputtered and had to work on flattening his feathers again.

“Is he just a friend to you? Did all that 'intimacy' you mentioned really not mean anything?”

She might've said that she would be unbiased, but the pleading look in her eyes said otherwise. It was intense enough that Revali had to look away and think, all the while brushing his cheeks to flatten the feathers.

Maybe it should’ve been a simple answer, but it wasn’t.

After all the time he spent with him. After all the gentle smiles and soft laughs Meelo gave him, it wasn’t easy.

After Meelo shielded onlookers from seeing Revali when he was torn after finding that old letter from his parents like it was the obvious choice. 

After Meelo found Revali when he was falling apart from his visions in front of Medoh, using his taller frame and hand as an umbrella for Revali from the pouring rain, and held him tightly until he calmed down.

After Meelo tried to be brave at the ball, even though he was completely out of his element. And after they waltzed together, their bodies closer than ever, both ruffling up when they held hands, hips, and shoulders, breathing each other’s air. Even after Meelo snapped at Link for putting Revali in danger; It was wrong, but he had only done it because he cared so much for Revali.

After he took down a Grizzlemaw, almost singlehandedly, showing just how brave and bold he could be when given the chance.

After Meelo worried about it him all the time, fretting over his wellbeing constantly. Waiting by his bedside when he was with the doctor and always being there when he was hurt.

After Meelo never failing to be amazed by him. Always in awe of everything that Revali did, never ceasing to hang on his every word with stars in his eyes.

After always predictably puffing out his cheeks when he was mad or frustrated, stuttered and fidgeted when he was nervous, cocked his head slightly whenever he asked questions. His crest always gave him away and he was always so easy to read; he was always so expressive in the funniest and most adorable ways and it was one of the most endearing things about him.

After always being so thoughtful and gentle. Being surprisingly smart and cunning. Being headstrong in the softest way; never giving up even when it was hard, despite how he thought of himself. Generally being wonderful and perfect. Softening Revali and making him want to be a kinder person.

After all of that...It wasn’t easy. It was not easy at all to come up with an exact answer to how he felt about Meelo.

Especially after the night where they were so close to kissing. So close to Revali throwing away all the years of yearning for Link to start something new. He had wanted to kiss him so bad. To turn over a new leaf with someone else.

But that was the question.

If Link was out of the picture, would Revali even want to be with Meelo?

Revali had pulled away when he realized that he was only putting Link in Meelo’s place because he was so much like Link before the Calamity happened. And while still wanting a future with Link, it felt so wrong.

But if Link was gone, if Link never gave Revali the time of day, if Link was untouchable enough for Revali to finally give up, would that piece of him still...Still want to kiss Meelo? Did he only feel the way he did because of his likeness for the old Link and he was a stand-in, or was he so special to Revali while Link was still invading his head?

Should it even matter, anyway?

It was impossible to keep ignoring how Meelo made him feel. He felt himself blush around him, felt his heart skip beats and his stomach flop. Felt butterflies in every inch of his body. A future could be possible. A new future. He could be the key to moving on, to finding a new life far from all the pain of the past. Just like Urbosa said. Maybe that was what was meant to be.

But how could he? How could he do that now that he already dug his own grave, done what he had done with Link. Was this new future even possible with the past, with what could have been with Link, still plaguing him and refusing to let go?

Revali closed his eyes and rubbed his head.

“I don’t...I don’t know.”

Meezuli squinted at him and furled her arms. “Waddya mean you don’t know?”

“Alright, alright! Fine!” His eyes shot open so he could glare at Meezuli. “I admit it. I like Meelo. I think I might really really like him.”

Meezuli’s whole face widened into a gigantic grin that was too big for her tiny face.

“But it’s very complicated, Meezuli. Extremely complicated.” He pinched the bridge of his beak in exasperation.

And instantly her smile fell. “Oh, whatever.”

“No! Seriously. Listen to me,” Revali snapped. “I...I left this part out because I’m not proud of it and I doubt Meelo ever brought it up with you, but-”

Meezuli’s eyes were so wide and expectant that Revali had to look away again to finish his sentence.

“...Meelo and I almost kissed.”

“For real?!” She shrieked. 

Revali grabbed her beak to clamp it shut. “Quiet! I don’t want all of Tabantha to know.”

When he let go, she clicked her beak a couple times before asking, “Well, why didn’t you? What’s the problem?”

“The problem is that no matter what I do, no matter what happens, I just can’t let go of Link. I still want to be with him. I still want to have a future with him-”

“You still want to bone him.”

“That could be said more eloquently, but yes!” He barked. 

“Well, after all you told me, I can see why it wouldn’t be easy to shake off. Not everyone gets to spend a century dreaming about boning someone.”

Revali covered his face with his hand and let out a sharp groan before continuing on. “The point is, I pulled away because I realized that I wasn’t completely thinking about Meelo. I was thinking about Link, too. And I’m afraid that I only like Meelo since he reminds me so much of how Link was before the Calamity.”

“But that Link is gone, right? He’s a totally different person now, through and through, so that shouldn’t matter that he makes you think of someone from the past, yeah?” Meezuli said, drinking more tea.

“Again, it’s not that simple. As I said before, Link is regaining more of his memories and is becoming more and more like the person he was before. So, it’s almost as if the person I loved before is slowly coming back.”

Meezuli whistled. “Wow, yeah, this is a toughie.”

“You are doing the opposite of helping.”

“Okay, okay, fine. As your unbiased pal, lemme put this on the table.” She took a giant gulp of her tea and practically tossed the empty saucer onto the floor. “The thing is, Link is engaged to someone else. Before you even came back from heaven or wherever the hell you were. And to the prince of the Zora, for Farore’s sake! Teba’s right, there’s a lot of politics, that honestly I don’t totally get, involved. Things are weird enough between us and the Zora as it is without you, someone who’s already hated by those fish, messing it all up. It’s hairy stuff.”

“That sounds pretty biased to me, Meezuli.”

“I’m just listing the cons here, sir.”

“But Link said he would take care of that. That he would break it off so that we could be together. So that can’t even be considered a con because that won’t be an issue anymore.”

Meezuli gave him a flat look.

“What?”

“You can’t honestly believe that he’ll be able to do that, right? I think he just said that in the spur of the moment. There’s kingdom politics, then there’s that lunatic involved…”

“That’s another thing! Link wouldn’t have to deal with that wretched royal anymore-”

“Sir, that’s a pro for Link. Not for you. Yeah, Link should get away from him if he can, but that doesn’t mean he has to be with you instead.”

Revali set his head in his hands. That was...shockingly smart of Meezuli to say.

“You wanna know what I think?”

“What do you think, wise sage Meezuli?”

She gave him a snide look and then went on. “I think Lady Urbosa is right, too. You all need to move on and find new lives for yourselves. That’s the best thing you can do after all you’ve been through. Leave the past in the past. And I think that you should do that…” She sheepishly shrugged and smiled. “By getting with my number one buddy who is your biggest fan.”

Revali’s brow deepened as his feathers lightly ruffled. “You’re really pushing your Meelo agenda, aren’t you?”

“I told you, I can’t help it!” Meezuli laughed, despite herself. “I know, you’re still in love with that hero. But, that ship might have permanently sailed. And all that ship has done is make life harder for you. So, that’s why I genuinely think Meelo is your ticket to happiness. Even if you’ve fudged it up a bit.”

He scratched his face, thinking. “I don’t know.”

Maybe she was right. She probably was.

But she was really downplaying how in love she was with Link. It wasn’t something you could easily break off just like that.

Meezuli rubbed her chin for a moment, thinking, before snapping her fingers. “Tell you what. How about you think it over tonight and then in the morning you can go talk to Link in person about it, without all that romance getting to both of your heads. Really mull it over with each other. No secrets, just straight up. I’ll go with you, since I have letters to deliver in the Domain anyway.”

Revali wasn’t too keen on going to that place. He might as well walk into a Bokoblin camp with his arms bound and an apple stuffed in his beak. “But… shouldn’t you have left tonight?”

“Tch. I’ll just tell ‘em there was a storm. How are they supposed to know?”

He stared at her and she stared back, again with her massive, expectant eyes. 

“For the love of- Fine. Fine! I’ll go.”

“Perfect! You can stay her tonight, too, since-”

“Yes. Thanks for reminding me. We can take Medoh, too.”

“Oh, geez. As long as you two can take it easy on me this time.”

Revali smirked.

“No promises.”