#hawks deserves a good family

[shivunin]

At the Dead Drop

A letter in an elegant, curling hand which seems to have met with some incident in its sending; it is dotted with water spots and features several crossed-out sections:

16 Guardian, 9:37 Dragon

Carver, 

Checking in, as always. Will leave this letter in the usual manner; let me know if this is no longer the acceptable way to pass messages on. Or—flames—let me know anything at all. It’s been months since I’ve heard from you. Your big sister worries. 

The manor is fine. It’s held up against the snow after the repairs, and there was minor damage, really. None of your things were ruined, and Mother’s room remains in the same state. As for my own bedroom—a little water damage means little. All the important things are downstairs, after all. We did find an unused corner of the wine cellar, though—sold off the really fine stuff after I let the others peruse it for their choices. I’ve plenty of ideas for what to do with the money. 

I suppose there is one thing that I needed   that you should   Flames, I’ll just say it. Fenris and I are together. For good this time.

I am not seeking your approval. I know what you’re going to say. I know how many letters I sent you three years ago, and I know how much of a mess I was then. But—stop making that face right now—this is different. 

I’m not looking for your approval. But—I would like to have it anyway, Carver. You’re my only family left except for—Andraste’s elbow, I haven’t told you—Gamlen and his daughter. Yes; Charade is her name, if you can believe it. Entirely beside the point. I know you hardly ever get these letters, and then it’s all at once, so I’ll write another letter about that when I’m done with this one. 

Things are bad in Kirkwall at the moment. I know you can tell already from other things I’ve said. But Fenris is…he is the only good thing I can count on without reservation. Everyone else has other concerns and other loves. They aren’t wrong to—of course they aren’t. But I need someone who wants me, and not what I can do for them and who will choose me first.

Perhaps that’s selfish of me, or unfair to say. I cannot say I don’t know that. But Carver, maybe it’s time for me to be a little bit selfish. Selflessness didn’t save Bethany, and it didn’t save Mother either. I can carry them with me forever, along with the whole of Kirkwall, or I can live. I know now that I can’t do both.

Maker, how maudlin this is. Oh, well. I’ve heard that you Wardens love a good melodrama, or—maybe just the Ferelden ones. I hope this finds you well, regardless. 

Write back soon. I mean it. 

Your beloved, clever, self-absorbed sister, 

—Maria

A scrap of paper torn from a larger piece; there is writing on one side and what appears to be a section of schematics on the other:

M—

Since when have I given two figs about your relationship drama? You want my approval, you have it. Do what you want, M, you're a big girl and you don't owe anyone shit. Just don’t come crying to me if it goes tits-up again. I’m busy. 

—Carver

P.S. Charade? Say you’re joking.

Another scrap of paper; the drawing on the other side lines up with the schematic on the first:

Fenris, 

If you break my sister’s heart again, I’ll kill you myself. Fair warning.

—Carver

A crisp-edged and carefully folded square of parchment, sealed thickly with charcoal-colored wax. The handwriting is meticulously neat:

Carver:

If I break your sister’s heart, I will let you.

—Fenris

(For day 8 of @14daysdalovers: Approval.)

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCXDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 5)

—

Tw: torture scene (GiW agent receiving), general angst, canon-typical violence (DC), nobody is having a good time

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It was pretty easy for Danny to forget that Dr. Crane was a rogue at times.

Most of the time he wasn’t comically evil, like what he’d expect of a Gotham rogue. He was helping Danny, even if only because he didn’t want to be taken in by the GiW as well. He was even downright nice most of the time, or at least neutral.

Sure, he had a strange obsession with fear and psychology, but that wasn’t really out of the ordinary for Danny. It didn’t feel like living with a rogue, just like…staying with a distant relative, or something.

He seemed like just an ordinary person.

Today, though, Danny was brought back to reality.

The GiW agent they’d tracked down together writhed on the ground, screaming in pain and terror. Scarecrow was sat a few feet away, setting up a syringe of the antidote he’d made.

After a few more moments, he injected the man with the antidote, watching him like a hawk the entire time.

Suddenly, the man surged forward, lunging at Scarecrow with a feral scream.

Unluckily for him, though, he was still weak from the fear toxin in his system, and from the beatings he’d received prior. Scarecrow easily wrestled him to the ground, settling himself on the broad part of the agent’s back with a vice grip on one of his arms.

“Let’s try again,” he said sharply, all of the warmth Danny had grown used to gone from his voice. “Where is the GiW base of operations?”

The agent took several shuddering breaths before spitting at Scarecrow, defiance and hatred written all over his face.

For just a moment, the room was utterly silent.

“Fine, have it your way.”

Scarecrow began to twist the man’s arm further. It wasn’t long before the agent began to squirm, then writhe, beneath him. Danny’s stomach churned.

“You know,” Scarecrow began, almost conversationally, “there are plenty of jobs that one can get without the use of their legs, especially with the level of education you have. Anything that doesn’t involve hard labor, really.”

The man’s face was beginning to turn red in his struggle not to scream. He took in gasping breaths, the way that his mouth moved almost reminding Danny of a goldfish.

(He felt awful for the comparison, but it was true.)

“However,” Scarecrow continued, “I find you’d be rather hard-pressed to find a job without the use of your arms. Especially in a place like Gotham, where you can always be replaced by someone eager to do your job for even less money. Of course, you could most likely coast off of savings and severance pay for a while, but…”

He leaned closer to the man’s head, his voice lowering.

“Would you be able to live like that? To live with yourself, if you no longer have a purpose?”

He allowed the agent a few seconds of rest before increasing the pressure on his arm. The agent gasped, letting out a strangled hiss. His arm bones were making fascinating noises in response to the strain. Danny felt sick.

“You seem like a rather driven young man. I’m sure your family would hate to see you unmotivated, directionless. Would they resent you, do you think?”

“Fuck you, you—”

The man was cut off by his own scream as Scarecrow finally allowed his arm to break, audibly splintering into thousands of useless shards of bone.

He had the exact pressure memorized. Clearly, he had done this before.

This was wrong. This was wrong.

Shouldn’t Danny step in, do something?

“That won’t heal cleanly. Even with the best medical care in the world, you’ll end up with permanent damage.”

The man below him wheezed and sobbed, choking on air as Scarecrow let go of his arm carelessly, letting it flop back onto the ground.

“Just the sort of thing something like you deserves,” Scarecrow hissed, his voice cold.

“You tortured a child, and you enjoyed it. You laughed with your friends about it. In your notes, one of your friends complained about the screaming,” Scarecrow brought his leg around, grinding his boot into the man’s broken arm. He howled in agony, writhing uncontrollably.

“Was it inconvenient to him, do you think? Too loud? If you were joking about it, clearly you thought so, too. I could fix that as well.”

He drew out another needle, this one once again filled with fear toxin.

“Scarecrow, wait,” Danny choked out.

Scarecrow turned to look at him.

Even his posture was different than usual. He looked… stiff, more like an animal than a man. When he tilted his head at Danny in a silent question, it looked like something in his neck had snapped, his head lolling to the side.

Danny wondered if he was consciously moving like that, or if it was habit at this point.

“You—we don’t have to do this. We can get information some other way, right? You don’t have to…”

Danny looked down at the GiW agent below Scarecrow. He didn’t even have it in him to glare up at Danny like he had before. Instead he laid limply on the ground, tremors rolling through his body uncontrollably.

“We’ve exhausted every other option and you know it,” Scarecrow said, his voice low, “this is the only way we can move forward.”

“Still, I—I don’t,” Danny swallowed, his throat tight, “this isn’t—this isn’t right. Isn’t there some other way to do this? Like—a truth serum, or something?”

“Truth serums are notoriously unreliable. They’re almost as bad as lie detectors. We’re much more likely to get a reliable result from this.”

Danny just stared at the GiW agent and his splintered, ruined arm. He began to weakly wriggle in Scarecrow’s grasp, which was graciously ignored.

He vaguely remembered himself doing the same thing when he was on the operating table; even if he knew there was no chance of escape, he still thrashed and screamed, desperate to get away. The jagged I-shaped incision on his torso felt uncomfortably warm.

What was there left to say?

“The Bat does the same thing at times, you know,” Scarecrow said, “him and the rest of his brood. By using my toxin, I’m actually lessening the amount of permanent damage that I’m doing. Physically.”

“Still, that doesn’t make it right,” Danny said desperately. “Even if—even if everyone in the world did this, it wouldn’t make it right.”

Scarecrow hummed.

They were both silent for a moment.

His next words were gentle, absurdly so when compared to the scene in front of him.

“I would love an alternative. But…”

He shrugged, hand coming to rest on the break in the GiW agent’s arm. Even without applying any pressure, the man stopped squirming immediately.

“There aren’t any other options,” Danny repeated, his voice flat and his body numb.

“Yes,” Scarecrow said. “I’m sorry.”

There was a pause. No one moved a muscle. Eventually Scarecrow spoke again, his voice strangely empty.

“You can stand outside and keep watch, if you’d like. At such a short distance their radars won’t pick us up.”

Danny said nothing, leaving the room silently.

He sat outside for quite a while.

He was grateful that Scarecrow had, with his help, dragged the agent to one of his previous hideouts. It was soundproofed, after all.

He was glad that he didn’t have to hear the rest of what Scarecrow did to the man.

After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Crane left the building, joining him outside. He guided Danny back to his beat up old truck and they drove home in silence.

“Did you at least…do you know where they are, now?” Danny asked as they entered the apartment, his voice small.

“They didn’t share the details of all of their locations with any one person. I know where one of their locations are, but not their main base of operations.”

Danny felt disgusted. With himself, with Dr. Crane, with the GiW.

He was disgusted by the agent, too. Did he just hate the restless dead so much that he would prefer to be tortured than to give them the upper hand? Did he really think he was in the right?

Was there a chance that he was?

Danny felt very, very small, and very stupid. Stupid and weak and cowardly.

“Danny,” Dr. Crane spoke, his voice soft.

“I’m truly sorry that this is happening to you. I really, truly wish that you didn’t have to endure my company. I…”

He fell quiet. Danny wondered if he was just saying this to pacify him, or if he truly meant it. He wondered if it really mattered in the end.

After a few moments of silence, Dr. Crane sighed, looking truly pained.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Danny was quiet.

“I’m going to bed early,” he finally said, turning away and leaving without a second glance.

—

[raventreehall]

a storm of swords dash simulator

🍋ladyjonquil Follow

i don't want to reveal too much but i had a really great day today hawking and riding and received some really exciting news (and maybe a potential marriage offer!) wow wow wow!!! haven't felt like this in so long 🥰

🤡florianthefool Follow

i'm so happy for you my jonquil

🐦littlefinger Follow

thanks for sharing my lady

🏹kissedbyfire Follow

PISSED OFF AT MY BF RN 🤬🤬🤬 NEVER TRUST A SOUTHERNER AND ESPECIALLY NEVER TRUST A CROW!!!!!!!

👸🏼daenerys-targaryen-tracker Follow

🐎raeqqo Follow

by the law of the dothraki she must return to vaes dothrak to take her place alongside the crones of the dosh khaleen. it is known.

🐉3heads Follow

shut up and go sack a defenseless city or something

🍁weirwoodzz Follow

hey do you guys remember when theon greyjoy took winterfell last year and killed the stark boys? has anyone heard anything else about that? feel like it kind of just disappeared from the news cycle, what happened to greyjoy?

🪓cerwynnation Follow

lord bolton's bastard killed him

🍁weirwoodzz Follow

oh really? wow. kind of extreme but deserved i guess

💗ramsays-sharpest-blade Follow

Ramsay isn't a bastard, King Joffrey legitimized him two months ago and Lord Roose is going to make him castellan of the Dreadfort soon. He loves his son and trusts his abilities. Plus, Ramsay is being awarded for his efforts in saving Winterfell and putting a stop to the ironborn raids in the North by being betrothed to Arya Stark—would a bastard be granted that honor? I don't think so.

Also, Theon isn't dead, Ramsay is (rightfully) flaying him for his crimes in the dungeons beneath the Dreadfort. Gods, I'd love to see Ramsay thrust the knife under his skin!!!!! 😜

#ramsay bolton #house bolton #our blades are sharp #theon greyjoy

🐐the-goat Follow

i'm boutta come into thome real money real thoon 😈 💎💎💎💎💯

🏰freygirl73 Follow

ughhhh my sister is getting married tmrw and my brothers keep going on about getting revenge on king robb while he's here for the feast... like i just wanted some food :/// iswtg that's the only good thing about my siblings weddings and now they're saying there won't even be any and i'm gonna have to go into hiding before the bedding ceremony or something. why can't my family just be NORMAL

🐟greenfork Follow

TW: Red Wedding, death, violence

A masterpost on what happened at the Twins and what it means for the Northern independence cause, the War of the Five Kings, and the realm in general.

Also a bunch of links on how you can help people affected in the Riverlands.

Keep Reading

🍵bowlobrown Follow

HELL YEAH BROTHER 🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀

🔥heatofdorne Follow

i wanna ***** ********* on ellaria sand's **** and *** ****** then call in oberyn and ***** **** them both until **** *****

🤎pate7534 Follow

🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀

🌊onthesunsetsea Follow

why are there so many crabs on my dash rn

🐺direwolfing Follow

TYWIN LANNISTER IS DEAD 🦀🦀🦀🦀

💙cassssanna Follow

actually i think it's still for king joffrey

🦁lann1sporter Follow

lol i thought it was for robb stark

🥂arborgold Follow

maybe it's for the mountain?

⬛️ freezingmyarseoffonthewall Follow

DOLOROUS EDD LORD COMMANDER 300 AC

⬛️ freezingmyarseoffonthewall Follow

DOLOROUS EDD WILL LEAD US TO VICTORY AGAINST THE OTHERS

🕊️ just-a-humble-sparrow Follow

mother have mercy i was walking by the great sept of baelor (i wanted to pay my respects to our blessed king joffrey) but i was blocked by a knight of the kingsguard—i believe it was one of the kettleblacks, unfortunately i always forget which one has been elevated to the kingsguard—because the queen was keeping vigil over her son, so i prayed outside instead. yet only a few minutes passed when i swear i saw the kingslayer arrive (he seemed to be missing a hand!) and enter. then, and this is the most disturbing part, i swear to the father that i heard noises of fornication coming from inside! i know for a fact that the only other person inside was the queen mother. could the rumors be true? i feel dirty even writing this. i wonder if i should tell my septon.

❤️‍🔥stannis-sweep Follow

stannis has literally been telling y'all and you didn't listen 🙄

🏳️ bannerless Follow

is it just me or is lady stoneheart kinda 👀

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

11 — COME BACK TO REMIND ME OF WHO I WAS

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

“I forgot how ugly he was.”

Price, beside you, raises a slightly bemused brow. Taking the binoculars from your easy grip, he too, examines the target standing on the mansion’s balcony. A cigar sits between Price’s lips, mirroring the less sophisticated Marlboro between the Lieutenant General’s.

The man, one of the few higher-ups you were somewhat close with, is a decorated Shadow Company leader. Known for his strategy and persuasion, he was always a good asset.

Shame he was always this side of too touchy, and a general ass to anyone who had a vagina. Or an inclination for the same sex.

Real pity that he’s the one with the information you need, and the one you can’t kill.

“You’re not wrong, darlin’,” Price murmurs under his breath, exhaling a puff of smoke as he slips the cigar from his mouth, the cherry burning in the dark of night.

Ghost, like usual, is found a few buildings down, sniper at the ready. Soap and Gaz were ordered to stay behind for this mission, much to their chagrin. It was the closest you’d seen Gaz fight with his Captain, and Soap was just being generally pouty.

Both you, and Price, had managed to reason that expertise in explosions and protection wasn’t exactly wanted for a quick get-and-grab.

And, maybe, a small part of you needs a break from the two Sergeants. Your night with Gaz has infected your mind, even now, the day after. And seeing him, with his bright smile and dimples and eyes made your heart skip a beat. Especially with how no one could know of your rendezvous, lest you be kicked out of the deal.

Or worse.

You swallow, once, accepting the binoculars once more when Price hands them back to you with another puff of his cigar. He’s surprisingly courteous about it, not blowing the smoke into your face.

“Lt, we have eyes on the target. Over,” you speak into your radio, eyes like a hawk as you watch the Lieutenant General shake off flakes from his cigarette over the pristine white railing. He’s shorter than most, especially considering his rank, and you can’t help a small, private smile growing on your face at that small fact.

“Been around bloody Johnny too much,” Ghost mutters, and you roll your eyes. “No hostiles spotted, you’re good to go.”

Rising into a crouch, Price gives you a curt nod, before gesturing for you to follow him. You do so with quiet movements, the only sound the barely there crunch of dirt underneath your boots.

Your previous Lieutenant General was always an uncomfortably wealthy man, and you see now what he’s chosen to do with such an abundance of money. He lives in an off-the-grid mansion, deep in the middle of nowhere, only hills and trees around him.

Those families in Las Almas, displaced and killed and ruined – they were entirely more deserving of just a fraction of this wealth. Your tongue feels coated with something sour.

Price smells like cinnamon and spice, even in his gear, and it’s a scent that settles in your belly like a warm stew. 

It’s rare, these days, to see daylight. All this recon work done well past midnight, hiding in the shadows and staying low. Not your favourite, but at the same time, it’s kind of… nice, doing this, just you and Price and the moon. No having to tiptoe around what to say around Gaz, or avoiding Soap’s innuendos.

If only it wasn’t for Ghost, too, watching over the two of you.

God, how you hated that man. His snarky comments, the roll of his eyes, his mask he refused to take off. And the way he almost looked down at you, questioned your authority, not unlike all the men you’d known. Worked alongside. Hated, too, in much the same vein.

You wonder, distantly, if he’ll ever come around. If there was at all a possibility of a civil interaction between you both, one that didn’t end in death threats or glares or passing out.

“Somethin’s on your mind.”

Head snapping up, you meet Price’s knowing blue eyes. Calculating, always aware, always ready for the worst case scenario.

“Not really, Cap,” you easily shake off in a whisper, continuing to follow him, until your backs are pressed against the beige, concrete wall. Your assault rifle is pulled to your chest, safety off.

The bandage on your cheek had been replaced just this afternoon, a soothing balm and fresh wrappings alleviating the growing itch that had been forming on your face. What was another scar, even? This one, at least, had somewhat of a neutral memory attached.

Ghost’s chest, his arms, a single threat turned into a promise.

You blink.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed if you underestimate our smarts,” Price says, low, under his breath. His words have you halting.

“Sir –”

“I know you’re used to bein’ the smartest kid in the regiment,” he continues, not unkindly, “But you’d do yourself well to remember that my boys are here for a reason, too. We know more than you give us credit for.”

His voice is deep, gruff, even in the low whisper he’s reduced to. 

A shiver erupts down your spine as you feel out where to start climbing the wall, trying not to look at the man next to you. His words – they hit a part of you that you don’t want to acknowledge.

“Never said you guys weren’t smart, Captain.”

“Actions speak louder than words, Colonel.”

You have nothing to say to that – an irony, all things considered. Instead, you jerk your head towards the bricks that’ll allow you both to scale the side of the mansion. With your gloves on, the two of you make it to the third floor, shuffling through an open window.

It’s pitch black, except for a lone light turned on in your target’s study, just down the hall.

The air is stale, stifling, potent with old filing and decade-old cologne. It has your throat feeling clogged, your eyes slightly glassy as you move towards the light, gun at the ready.

This is, you realise, the first time you’re working beside the Captain.

You’d worked in tandem, obviously, but never so closely knit like this. With him at your six, his body like a furnace when beside your own, it’s an entirely new dynamic. So different to that of his subordinates – more steady, controlled.

Ghost is silent over the radio, a small mercy, as you two find your way into the study, backs to the wall as you quickly clear the room. You never knew when a surprise could be awaiting you.

“Check the drawers, I’ll look through the shelves,” Price whispers, a direct command delivered in a raspy breath.

You nod, immediately transferring your gun to your back as you rush through the desk’s contents.

The room is dusty, obviously having seen little use in recent years, and the drawers are filled to the brim with knick knacks. Old paper clips, photos, receipts – everything, except for what you need.

“Got anything?” You find yourself asking, a harsh whisper in the still quiet of the room.

Price shakes his head, a stern movement, still searching through the shelves with a stealthy yet quickened pace. You focus back on the drawers, going through each one with efficient and expert ease. Some old gum packets, paper clips. Fuck.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your throat feels thick with dread.

The contract you were looking for – it could be the beginning of the end. You needed this like you needed air, right now, and if you didn’t find it –

“Darlin’,” Price calls, smooth but demanding. You instantly look up, drawn to the man like a moth to a flame. “We’re goin’ to find it. Stop thinkin’.”

It’s, obviously, easier said than done.

You appreciate his sentiment – the way he’s trying to guide you – but that sinking feeling of despair has you gripped in its tenuous claws; unrelenting and powerful and cruel. It feels as though everything is riding on this; like your very existence will disappear as soon as you find out the document has.

A hand on your shoulder startles you out of your thoughts.

It’s Price.

“You need to get your head in, Colonel,” he orders, his voice no longer patient or kind. This is the voice of a Captain. “I am not about to waste my time here if you can’t do your job.”

It’s exactly what you need, right now, and he knows it. You know it.

You take a breath.

And you nod.

He claps your shoulder, a firm glint in his eyes as he jerks his head towards the rest of the room. You’re running on a timer – your mini spiral an unnecessary hurdle. All you have to do is block off that side of your brain, and get the bloody job done.

Although Ghost is still silent as ever, you can feel his looming presence even without being at all in his line of sight.

It’s debilitating.

With more meticulous movements and keener eyes, you look through the drawers. Less desperate, more knowing, because if there’s any doubt that you won’t find it –

“Target is leaving the balcony – I’m ‘bout to lose sight on ‘im,” Ghost’s quick voice starts through your radio. The slight tone of worry has every inch of you on edge. Your wide eyes flicker to Price’s – whose jaw sets.

“Copy, Lieutenant,” Price murmurs, voice low.

The gun strapped to your back feels heavier than before, now, and your hand drifts to the pistol attached to your thigh. The same one that’s come in handy time and time again.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Footsteps – down the hall. Heading towards –

A hand on the scuff of your neck. A door being pulled open – pitch black.

Your heart thunders in your chest, Price’s hand pressed against your sternum, his chest against yours. The air is tight, and you’re cornered in a…

Closet.

Price pulled you into a closet – and now, you’re stuck with his thigh between yours and his arm outstretched above your head. You feel entirely weak before him, the Captain of the 141.

If it was at all in question, anymore, you would’ve considered that this would be the perfect time to kill you. To be rid of Grave’s right-hand woman, and to cut off any loose ends.

Instead, all you can feel is his warm breath against your forehead.

The footsteps pause, but the creak of the study’s door has your spine rigid all over again. Price presses in closer to you – and you don’t make a single movement. Don’t speak a single word, in case its very syllables are your undoing.

You can’t see, not in this speckled darkness, but price’s very existence feels so strong against your own that you can’t help but shudder a breath.

“Sir – You can’t possibly be serious. Use your damn brain.”

Your ex-Lieutenant General hisses into what you assume is his phone. And by his grating voice dripping with stress? There’s only one man on this Earth that he could be talking to.

Phillip Graves.

You can’t make out what your Commander says in response – not through the small, tinny voice of the phone, but you can pretty much guess his sentiment.

“Most of our men are gone! We can’t take down that bloody Task Force –” He hisses, his voice palpably furious. Without realising it, you find yourself curling in further to Price – his own head ducking down to shield you subconsciously.

The creak of the study’s floorboards, echoing under the weight of the man’s boots, makes your heart pound.

You feel not unlike a small child, hiding from their parents while the sound of yelling and smashing glasses echoes around the room. The long since buried memory of your father – before he left, before he broke your mother’s heart – of dark hair and angry, pulsing veins. The same veins you inherited.

The ones of which you wish you could carve out of your skin, just to watch the fury bleed out.

“Why the fuck is she so important? Good pussy or not –” Your heart, a thud, thud, thud, “ – She’s just a girl. She’s not worth it.”

Price’s hand tightens his hand, unconsciously clasping your throat like it’s a new necklace of yours. It’s oddly comforting, even if it threatens to block your airflow. His chin nearly rests atop your head, so close, but all you get is the waft of cigars and ink.

Graves must respond with something – something that the man just a few feet away from you does not appreciate.

“At this rate, the worst case scenario is that she finds out,” the man starts to pace, the rhythm of his footfalls matching the heaving rises of your chest, “And then what? Get your fucking head in, Commander.”

Your mind’s flooded with possibilities, what could possibly constitute the worst case scenario, when the next sentence shatters you entirely.

“She’s smart, Commander, and she’s gonna want to figure out the truth of dear old mum’s death soon. Don’t be idiotic.”

Silence.

Your ears ring – your throat closes, and your common sense crumbles at your feet. 

The next few moments happen in easy, recognisable steps.

One. You shove Price off of you – not in a way that’d cause him pain, but forceful enough that he can’t push back in time to stop you.

Two. You swing the closet door open, the light flooding your view, along with the large frame of the Lieutenant General.

Three. You slide your trusty pistol from your hollister, flick off the safety, and aim with a shaky grip.

And you shoot.

The bullet slices clean and true through the man’s forehead, blood instantly dripping between his eyes as he falls forward, body slumping, until the phone clatters to the carpet alongside him.

Price yells something. You can’t hear it past the ringing in your ears, the muffled sound that drifts between reality and thought.

Dropping to your knees, you clasp the phone in your grip, blood staining the face of it. You bring it to your ear, hand no longer shaking. Steady as a surgeon.

Graves says something, sounding desperate.

“When I kill you, Commander,” you rasp, and you think you can hear Ghost’s irritating voice through your radio, “I’ll do it the same way I plan to finish Shepherd.”

“You’re gonna regret –” Graves hisses, but all you do is pull the phone from your ear, and press the circular red button.

The line cuts.

A hand falls to your shoulder, shaking you, and it’s only then that the ringing stops, and all of your other senses fall back into place.

The hand moves to the hair at the base of your skull, Price fisting it and pulling your head back to face him. He looks… angry, but it’s softened, somehow, by the understanding in his blue eyes.

“You had one order, Darlin’,” he borderline growls, and your skin prickles, “Tell me what that was.”

A petulant child is what you are. How he’s treating you.

You answer anyway.

“Not to,” you swallow, throat dry, “Not to kill him. Captain, you have to –” His grip on your hair tightens, and your words stop short.

He shakes his head, eyes narrowing. “If you’re gonna let your feelings get in the way of our mission…”

Even though he doesn’t finish his sentence, you understand the meaning of it. You’re acting reckless, growing impatient – risking yourself and others over petty disputes.

Everything feels so difficult, right now, impossible to comprehend. Like your mind’s on auto-pilot, your body, too.

Price releases his grip from your hair, and you find your gaze moving to the body laid in front of you.

And…

A piece of paper – folded – has fallen just beside his jacket’s pocket. You lean forward, clasping it between your hands without a second thought, and open it up with careful movements.

With every word you read, your mouth falls open wider – until you find yourself standing on unsteady feet, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

It’s.

“It’s not the contract,” you breathe, realising Price is just watching, waiting, looking out for you. You finally look up from the sheet. 

“It’s something better.”

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[behindthesoul]

MK Men As Parents

Thanks to @mortal-kombat-shitposts and Tommy from the Discord server for giving me this idea <3

Characters: Liu Kang, Syzoth, Shang Tsung, Bi-Han

Note: gender neutral, mentions of periods in Syzoth’s part, not proofread

Masterlist

Liu Kang

Chill parent.

He makes time for his kid whenever he can, but he’s busy with being the defender of Earthrealm. I can see his kid mostly being raised by the monks at the Wu Shi Academy.

He trains his kid to the best of his ability, not wanting them to be defenseless in case of an emergency.

I don’t think they would go to Outworld much. Sindel wouldn’t even know Liu had a kid til they’re older.

Liu is very wise and gives the best advice. He’s there to calm his kid down should they ever get angry or upset. He expects his child to be truthful and always come to him if something’s wrong.

I can imagine his kid learning of his god status pretty early on, but not knowing of his past role as Keeper of Time until he’s forced to reveal it. Depending on their personality, this could cause some tension between them.

Syzoth

Assuming Syzoth’s child also has his ability to take a human form, he would drill it into their head that they are not a freak. Their human and Zaterran form are both beautiful to him.

Parenting is a unique challenge for Syzoth. While he easily handles the Zaterran aspects of raising a child, he finds it more challenging to comprehend human things such as periods, puberty, and tantrums.

Syzoth finds himself missing his family more and more each day. He feels bad his child won’t have much family to grow up around. I think because of this, Syzoth is a bit protective. He’s already lost so much, he can’t bear to lose the best thing in his life.

He’s nowhere near overbearing, but there are moments where he watches his kid like a hawk.

Shang Tsung

I can imagine Shang being a single parent, doing his best to raise a child in his shack. He spends most of the day out in towns, selling his fake cures. He trusts his child to be able to take care of themselves while he’s gone.

He’s a devoted father doing all he can to keep his child happy. He wants them to be smart, frequently having them reading above age-level and doing math problems most kids their age can’t comprehend.

Once Shang’s benefactor gives him his big break? Shang spoils the shit out of his child. Giving them the life they’ve always deserved. These are the days Shang’s child sees him smile the most. Gone are the days of tirelessly selling fraudulent medicine. It’s time to live lavish!

Bi-Han

Not the most emotionally available parent.

He’s not the type to show any emotion that isn’t anger, and he doesn’t know how to deal with others’ feelings. He tries his best, but he may not react to every situation the way his child needs him to.

He’s a strict father; a product of being the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. His child has a lot of eyes on them, so they will be ruthlessly trained to be the best of the best.

He is a father first before he is a grandmaster. But, if he feels the need to put his foot down, his child will hear “obey your Grandmaster!”

He’ll never admit to it, but Bi-Han does spoil his child. Not as much as other characters would, though.

His strictness will only work for so long! If his child catches him on a good day, he may or may not let them skip training by feigning illness. If someone brings it up he’ll just say, “my child shows great dedication to the Lin Kuei. They have not missed a day of training.”

[milliesfishes]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓲𝓻𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

(requested)(@kayleigh--23 <3) [fem reader] contains: pregnancy angst, arranged marriage, pressure to become pregnant. pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: You thought being married to Coriolanus Snow would be enough, but when there is pressure on the two of you to have a child, the events that follow are life changing. author’s note: Oh I do adore pregnancy angst. Another take on the arranged marriage trope, please enjoy! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

"...an heir."

You could barely hear the words through the door. Your husband of one and a half years and an old Snow family friend, a man called Mr. Vesta, had disappeared into his study an hour ago and they hadn't allowed you in. It had sounded important, and you couldn't help it, you needed to know what it was. Especially after you'd heard your name mentioned more than once.

With one ear to the door, you'd caught bits and pieces of the conversation. None of it made sense in your mind, this new bit of information least of all.

Coriolanus Snow was the least objectionable option when it came to marriage. Not that you'd had a choice at all in the matter, but for your own peace of mind you pretended. You pretended it hadn't been a strategic political move on his part to marry someone from your family. You pretended Mr. Vesta wasn't overbearingly and old fashioned-ly invested in the image the two of you presented as a married couple.

The goal was to make him president. You knew that much. And Mr. Vesta, as well as having known Coriolanus his entire life, had experience in running for office. But you knew very little else. Politics in Panem were a mystery to you, and at times they could be archaic. At least, the things everyone wanted you to do were.

The dresses you had to wear, the people you were seen with, how you acted. Hell, the arranged marriage itself seemed that way to you. But this was how it was done. Your own mother had married your father for similar reasons, though her situation had nothing to do with politics, only social gain. Yours was both.

You went into the marriage with a positive attitude. This will be what you make of it, you'd been told. You figured if you walked in with a positive attitude and determination it would work out the best it could.

But then you met your husband to be.

He was handsome but cold. Charming but manipulative. Attentive at times but distant at most. Every good thing about him was punctuated by a flaw. He'd make a good politician, you'd noted.

The wedding was a blur of photographers and fed lines. He'd barely acknowledged you, and you knew every look, every touch was false. It cheapened the whole experience for you, and a resentment built up inside you.

At least after the wedding night he'd allowed separate bedrooms.

Maybe you'd have felt guilty about your feelings toward him if he'd shown any sign of fondness toward you. But he didn't. He ignored you most days, except when he needed your influence or your image or your body.

Which is why now, in the present, you hardly worried about the consequences of eavesdropping. If they were talking about you in there, you deserved to know.

"...bring her in..."

Forgetting your confidence, you scurried away as quietly as you could, returning to the sitting room, where you'd last been spotted by them. Picking up a book, you pretended to read until Mr. Vesta, an older man with a beard, came in and said that your presence was required in the study.

Ignoring the way he'd spoken to you in your own home, you followed him back through the study doors, nodding at everyone in the room before your eyes moved to your husband.

Coriolanus was sitting behind his desk, a look of discontentment on his face. What had they been talking about in here? You moved to his side automatically. He may have not been your number one pick, but he was the safest person in the room for you to stand by.

Putting your hand on the back of his chair, you looked between them. "What did you need from me?"

"We're here to discuss a proposition," Mr. Vesta said, looking entirely too comfortable. He nodded at your husband. "Snow?"

Coriolanus took in an almost frustrated breath and turned up to you. He held eye contact with you for a moment before speaking. "It has been suggested that we..." he inhaled through his nose. "...produce an heir."

You blinked in surprise, doing a double take. When you looked at the other man, you could see that this wasn't a joke. They were serious.

"...No," you said in disbelief, looking back at your husband. "This was never part of the arrangement."

"Things change," Mr. Vesta said, giving you a pointed look. "It is imperative that you produce an heir by the end of the year. A male heir."

That sentence was so offensive to you that you had to look away for a moment. When you gathered your manners back, you said, "Why is this suddenly so important? Isn't us being married enough?"

"Coriolanus is the last of the Snow name," Mr. Vesta said, seeming to think he was providing an explanation. "It would have to happen eventually. In the best interest of keeping the old family names around."

"I don't see how that serves your interests," you said stiffly, and Coriolanus grabbed your hand, squeezing it as a warning, the cool of his ring pressing into your skin.

"It was of the utmost importance to Crassus that I, specifically, see this through," the bearded man said in stern tones. "He hoped his son would be able to carry it out on his own-" he gave Coriolanus his own pointed look- "but since he has not, it was time for me to step in. Not to mention that having a son would increase political gains greatly. Seeing that an old family is still strong."

You were dazed. It all felt so ridiculous to you. Of all the things they'd made you do for this role, this had to be the worst. They were asking you to not just sleep with a man you hated, but to bear his child. And Coriolanus himself looked less than happy about it.

"Within the year," Mr. Vesta repeated, and he stood up. "Both your image and your obligations to your family depend on it." He nodded stiffly at you, then left. You never got the impression that Mr. Vesta was all that fond of you. He didn't see you as a person, more as a machine that broke now and then but was ultimately served its' purpose.

Once he was gone, you turned to Coriolanus, your expression horrified. "You're not seriously thinking about this are you?"

"We don't have a choice," he said, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Yes we do," you protested, kneeling by his chair, grasping the arm. You were trying to look him in the eye, but he was avoiding you. "We're already married. Your image is intact-"

"But my family isn't," he said sharply, turning suddenly to look at you. "You don't understand. I have a responsibility to continue the line and Vesta reminded me of that." He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. "I apologize that I didn't disclose this before but it's not optional."

"Coriolanus-"

"You think I want to do this?" His voice was irritated, and he stood up suddenly. You did too, surprised.

"No, but-"

"We have to," he said angrily, pacing. "I don't want to do it either but there are no other options. I need Vesta's support, and unfortunately that comes with the wishes of my late father."

You were silent, tears pricking your eyes as you realized this was really going to have to happen. Scoffing in disbelief and trying to hide your emotion, you buried your face in your hands.

He sighed, and you heard him move closer to you, his polished shoes making a distinct sound on the hardwood floor. "Sweetheart...I'm sorry. I am. But you're my wife. You know that means fulfilling certain...obligations."

Coriolanus took your hands in his, removing them from your face. "We'll make the process as quick as possible, okay?"

When you nodded, there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "That's a good girl. The sooner you're pregnant the sooner it'll be over with."

It was terrifying how well Coriolanus knew himself.

The domineering persona he'd built up when entering the political game may as well have become him. It was a skill he'd honed- the art of pretend.

But every thorn had its flower.

You.

Before meeting you he had high hopes for marriage. He'd hoped you'd be tolerable to look at, decent in conversation, with half a brain. Someone who'd please him, but nothing more.

But you were far beyond that.

Upon your first meeting he knew he was doomed. You were extraordinarily beautiful, with a pretty laugh. And so clever. You'd discussed literature and art so naturally, easy as breathing. Within the first hour of knowing you he knew he could fall deeply, madly in love with you.

And therein laid the problem.

Love was not the goal. In fact, love strayed so far from the goal that it was almost the opposite. If Coriolanus fell in love with you, it would ruin him. His mind, his soul, his pursuits. He'd gone to Vesta afterward and asked if there was anyone else, anyone at all. Surely there was some other girl who was less...enticing, but still had good connections.

Vesta hadn't seen a problem with the arrangement. He'd chided Coriolanus for it. He had the most sought-after woman in the Capitol. Your social status would make him more favorable in the eyes of voters, as would seeing him in love. Seeing no other options, Coriolanus had agreed.

To marrying you, not being in love.

He'd endured the game, accompanying you to dinners and galas, and going through with the wedding, all the while keeping you at arm's length. Coriolanus resolved that the only way to keep himself from falling in love was distance. And distance he maintained.

Except for at public events, he avoided you. Occasionally, he'd beckon you to his bed, whenever he needed to relieve some stress or tension, but that was the extent of it. He couldn't help himself- you were just so perfect. And you were his wife after all.

No matter how he justified his actions, it still felt wrong.

With Vesta's newest demand Coriolanus felt his control over the situation slipping. The old man didn't know what he was asking of him. Honestly how could he have, but it was still frustrating. He was asking them to produce a child as casually as one would ask a favor.

The worst part was seeing how distraught you were over it. A bit of his heart had warmed at seeing how you'd come to stand by his side but it was squashed quickly by what he had to tell you.

An heir. And not just an heir, a son.

Coriolanus could have strangled Vesta. It was ridiculous how invested he was in such private affairs. But his father's old friend was experienced in an area he desperately needed help in: politics. So, he had no choice but to accept.

Seeing you on the verge of tears had nearly broken him. He allowed himself to comfort you, just a little, convincing himself that that was what any husband would do, even if he didn't love his wife, which Coriolanus certainly didn't.

You fell pregnant quickly, which he was thankful for. For his sake but surprisingly, more for yours.

Naturally, he kept close tabs on you while still trying to maintain the distance he'd determined was the best solution for the situation. Reports were delivered to him daily.

You were quiet most days, hardly speaking to anyone. He felt guilt over that. Vesta and their public relations team had determined that for the first bit of pregnancy it was best for the two of you to stay out of the spotlight. That meant you were hardly able to leave. And with his insistence on distance, well...it was inevitable that you'd be lonely.

As the months progressed, his reports contained more concerning information. You were losing weight at an alarming rate, becoming more drawn. The baby was doing exceptionally well thanks to the doctors he'd brought in. But you...you were suffering for it.

He saw evidence of this when he was standing at the window of his study one day, taking a pause from his work, when he saw you in the rose garden wandering amongst the blooms.

The reports had not done your condition justice. Even from the window on the third floor he could see how thin you were, even with your belly swelling.

Beautiful, he couldn't help thinking as he watched you. Even in your current state, you were glowing. He tossed a look over his shoulder at his papers, a mountain of work he suddenly did not feel like doing. then in a split-second decision, he abandoned his study and headed down the stairs, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt.

Heading into the rose garden, he hesitated at the sight of you. You were bent slightly over a flower, lifting the rose to your nose. The corners of your lips turned up slightly as the fragrance hit you. Turning slightly, you caught sight of him, and straightened, your hand sliding over your belly immediately. "Coriolanus."

"Sweetheart," he greeted, stepping closer.

You looked a little puzzled. "Did you need something?"

He felt a little dazed, unsure really why he came out here. "No...I just..." Coriolanus was now less than a foot away from you. "I wanted to see how you were."

Your expression grew slightly more surprised, but you stayed graceful. "I see."

"Yes," he said, unable to stop looking at you.

Biting your lip, you looked to the side, fingers splayed out over your belly. "I'd have thought you'd gotten enough from your reports."

He blanked. "You know about those?"

"You aren't very discreet," you said, giving a tight smile. "Besides, I know you. You're nosy."

He sniffed a laugh at that. "It's hardly being nosy when it's concern for my wife."

Silence.

Your hand fell off your belly and you moved to examine another rose, a white one. "I didn't know you cared for my wellbeing."

He followed you, tracing your steps. "You're carrying my child, sweetheart."

"Not by either of our choice," you said softly. You reached over your belly to touch one of the rose petals on the outside of the flower. "It is an obligation."

"And yet here we are," he said, picking the rose. He snapped the stem, tucking it behind your ear, his hand sliding under your chin, lifting your eyes to his. "Making the best of our situation."

Your doe eyes as you looked up at him nearly melted his heart. Coriolanus wished he could paint a portrait of you as you were right now: belly round and full of his child, one of his family roses in your hair. You looked so utterly his.

"You haven't been well sweetheart," he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek. "Even if I wasn't getting reports-"

"I'm fine. As fine as I can be," you said quietly, trying to avoid his eyes. "Growing a child is taxing, believe it or not."

"This is different." Coriolanus took your hand, which hung limply in his. "I worry about you."

"There is no need for it." You walked over to a stone bench, sitting with both your hands beside you. Your dress fell over your belly in such a way that your knees were not visible. The little detail made you all the more endearing to him.

"Darling." Coriolanus sat beside you, taking your hand once again. "I know this is hardly ideal, but I need you to try."

"What on earth do you think I have been doing?" you asked, looking up at him.

"You're fading," he said simply.

Taking in a breath, you turned slightly to face him. "I'm doing the best I can. I'm pregnant, you'll have your boy. There is nothing more to ask of me."

"Part of that obligation is taking care of yourself," he said, looking you straight in the eye.

"Am I not doing enough?" you exhaled softly. "I don't know why you're so concerned. You've ignored me for the brunt of our marriage. You do not seem to feel any affection for me. I don't see why you should care."

"You know exactly why I care," he insisted, his tone growing frustrated. "I cannot watch you wither away into nothing."

He stood up, holding out his hand. "When is the last time you ate?"

You bit your lip, casting your eyes to the side as you thought. "This morning."

It was nearly the evening. "Come. Let's find something."

"Coriolanus," you said exasperatedly.

"Sweetheart," he said earnestly back, extending his hand further. Even though he wanted to stay distant, there was a protective urge festering inside him, one he couldn't ignore like he'd done in the past.

You pursed your lips for a moment, then seemed to decide something. Taking his hand, you carefully stood up and let him lead you back up to the house.

As he found you something to eat, he thought of his earlier promise to himself not to let himself fall for you. He knew deep down that you had the potential to entrance him, make him adore you. Despite his aversion to this trait of yours, he knew he couldn't keep you at arm's length any longer. Not when your health was on the line.

Perhaps he could resist but stay close.

Your pregnancy progressed with a few things to note.

The first being that your health improved greatly. You were kept under watch, and your weight became less concerning. You found yourself feeling better, a little less tired all the time.

The second notable thing was the sudden closeness of your husband.

Since the day in the rose garden, he had become warmer towards you, more open. He took meals with you every day, diligently making sure you'd eaten enough.

One evening he summoned you to his study, surprising you.

"Is something the matter?" You stood in front of his desk, slightly worried. You'd rushed up so quickly that you hadn't put your book down, your finger still marking your place.

"Will you sit with me?" he requested, gesturing to the seat in front of him.

You tilted your head, sitting down carefully, hand over your belly. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," he said, nodding. "I just...wanted you to be close to me. Read your book."

Slowly, you nodded, leaning back in your chair. You opened your book and began to read, peering up to see that he'd begun writing again. Slightly confused but surprisingly pleased that he wanted you near, your eyes found the page again.

Shifting in your chair, you did your best to get comfortable, but it proved to be a difficult task. Your belly didn't exactly make things accommodating for you. Doing simple tasks with ease was becoming increasingly harder.

Apparently, this fact was noticeable to your husband as well. He set his pen down. "Darling?"

You looked up. "Hmm?"

Coriolanus patted his lap. "Come sit."

Tilting your head, your brow furrowed confusedly. "You want me to-?"

"You're uncomfortable," he said, leaning back in his chair, his arms open and ready for you. "Come."

Hesitantly you stood up, book in hand, and went around the desk to sit across his thighs. He secured an arm around you, a little over your belly and you leaned back against him comfortably. "Is this okay?"

"More than," he said, smiling just a little. "Stay here."

And with that, he went back to his papers, working with one hand and keeping you against him with the other. You returned to your reading, perfectly content against him.

This became a routine of sorts. You'd come shyly into his study; he'd hold out an arm for you and you'd sit on his thigh and read. You began to look forward to it, to this time you spent together. His touch was somehow comforting to you.

That was the third thing to note. How much you liked his closeness. The way he went out of his way to make sure you were comfortable, to make sure you weren't lonely.

That wasn't to say there weren't challenges.

At the first gala you attended with him since becoming pregnant, you knew it was going to be a trying affair. Coriolanus was attentive, whispering to you that he'd get you out as soon as possible.

Dressed in a white gown that accentuated your pregnancy, you knew pictures of you and Coriolanus would be splashed across every headline. Keeping that in mind, you did your best to be gracious, to smile and say the right things.

But, three hours into an event that would surely last all night, you found yourself becoming weary. You tugged at Coriolanus' arm, which you'd been glued to all night, but he didn't notice. He was speaking with a senator, engrossed in conversation.

His wife turned to you, starting to speak. "How have things been so far? With the baby?"

You smiled tightly, not upset with her, but tired. "Very well. It's been a wonderful experience."

"How lovely," she smiled, eyeing your figure. "It is a wonder to be sure. A great deal of people have thought you'd never give him a child."

You didn't quite know how to respond to that, so you merely smiled shyly.

"And you're certain it's a boy? We certainly don't need any more young girls around here," the woman laughed, oblivious to your discomfort.

"I suppose we'll see," you nodded, stifling a yawn with your hand and tugging at Coriolanus' arm again. He didn't respond.

"I suppose you aren't eating enough then," the woman noted, raising an eyebrow as she caught your yawn. "If you were you wouldn't be so tired. Or thin for that matter. I know when I was-"

"Darling," Coriolanus cut in, turning to you. "I believe it is time for us to leave." He nodded politely at the woman in front of you and escorted you out, one hand holding one of yours and the other on your back.

Once you were alone at home, you started to cry, a hand over your mouth as you let yourself break down. Your fatigue, the unsolicited advice, the comments on your appearance...it was all too much. You couldn't stand any of it.

It was just another reminder to you of how alone you were. You had no friends- the women of the Capitol were less than inviting, only speaking to you out of obligation and jealousy. And your husband...well, you weren't sure what to think of him at the moment.

Knowing you needed to move around to calm yourself down, you left your room, wandering down the hallway. You tried to keep your breathing even, a hand on your heart as you walked.

You stumbled upon the ballroom, opening the door and wandering inside. The vast emptiness of the large room made you feel small, and you marveled at the feeling. Sometimes being married to Coriolanus made everything feel more heightened. But being alone in this large room made everything feel smaller...less important. It was wonderful.

There was a piano in the corner of the room, and you meandered over to it, running your fingers along the keys. In your training as a socialite, you'd had several lessons in the instrument, but it had been a long time since you'd played.

You sat on the bench carefully, positioning your hands on the keys and beginning to play an old favorite. Muscle memory was your companion, and your fingers moved nimbly and easily. It was comforting to know that you still knew how to do it, that not everything in your past was easily forgotten.

When you looked up after you finished playing, Coriolanus was standing in the doorway. The corners of his mouth were turned up slightly, and he walked over to you. You turned slightly on the bench as he did.

Your husband knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his and bringing them to his lips. He lifted his eyes to meet yours, seeming to take you in. You were still in the same white dress you'd worn to the event. He squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry. I know tonight was hard."

Closing your eyes, you nodded, trying not to cry again. "I'm okay." Coriolanus was still looking up at you when you opened your eyes, and you gave him a small smile when you saw how sincere he was in his apology.

"Are you tired?" he asked softly, searching your eyes.

You shook your head. Somehow your fatigue had vanished somewhere in your walk through the halls.

"Okay." He nodded and stood up, helping you stand as well. "Will you come with me?"

It was a genuine question, and you nodded at it, somehow trusting him more in that moment than you ever had before.

He led you upstairs and up to a door you recognized as his room. You hesitated before going inside but ultimately decided to follow him. Coriolanus kicked off his shoes and sat you down on his bed, hands in yours. "Are you well?"

"Yes, I'm fine," you managed, looking down at your joined hands.

"Darling," he murmured.

"I just...it gets so lonely sometimes," you said softly, looking up at him.

"Oh, sweetheart," Coriolanus breathed, lifting your chin and searching your eyes. "I had no idea."

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. "It just gets to be too much sometimes."

His hand came to your face, thumb stroking your cheek. "Sweetheart." You opened your eyes. He brought his forehead to yours, the gesture surprisingly comforting. "I'm sorry. I never meant for you to feel this way."

"I feel like I'm all alone in this," you said quietly, rubbing a hand over your belly.

Coriolanus pulled you closer to him, his expression softer than you'd ever seen it. He kissed your temple. "I'm sorry darling. I know that's my fault."

"It's not. Not really," you murmured, leaning into him. "I know you didn't want this."

"That doesn't mean you should suffer for it," he kissed your forehead. Then Coriolanus took your face into his hands, and you leaned into his touch. "I want you to know how grateful I am for you."

You softened between his hands, looking up at him with doe eyes. "Grateful?"

"Grateful," he clarified, looking over you, your body and your belly. "Grateful because you have given yourself wholly to me. And you might say you didn't have a choice. But you did. And you chose to do this for me. Whatever the reason is, I am grateful for you."

You were stunned at this, your lips parting slightly. He saw you. He had seen you and he cared. A tiny smile made its way onto your face as you looked up at him. "That means a great deal."

"You deserve more than a great deal," he breathed, his hands sliding from your cheeks to your shoulders. "After everything...what you've given me..."

His voice was husky. "Nobody's ever done anything close to this much for me. You..."

"Coriolanus," you whispered, your lips ever so close to his. Months ago, you never would have allowed it, never would have gotten so close. But things were different now. The child growing inside you had changed everything.

"I'll never let you feel alone again," he breathed. "Never let you feel undervalued, unappreciated...nothing less than what you are."

"And what's that?" you asked.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "The beautiful mother of my child. A woman who is more than I deserve."

"Hardly," you looked up at him, feeling like you were seeing him for the first time. His expression was caring, his touch gentle. He seemed so different now than he was at the start of your marriage.

"Let me show you." Coriolanus muttered, hands coming back to yours, lifting them and kissing your fingers once more.

Your heart pounded, breath quickening, and you nodded. He set your hands down, moving his hand to the zip of your dress and pulling back slightly to look at you. You nodded and turned so he'd have easier access. He slid the zip down carefully and you helped him move the dress over your shoulders and down your body. It ended up as a pile of fabric beside his bed.

Gently, Coriolanus laid you back onto the bed, eyes roaming over you. He appeared entranced by you. Your skin was glowing, your body curvier, belly swollen. His lips parted. "Beautiful," he breathed, leaning down. Your lips were terribly close to his...

You took the final step and pressed your lips to his, capturing them in a kiss that started innocent but quickly became searing.

He pulled you in by the waist, pressing you against him. You knew from experience that Coriolanus' kisses were hungry, but tonight he must have been starving. The way his lips moved against yours was sinful, but you wanted it, wanted it bad.

Your hands moved of their own accord, tugging at his shirt buttons and discarding the garment once it was unbuttoned. His pants were the next to go, joining your dress and his shirt on the floor. When he kissed you, his hands wandered over your body, reaching for the clasp of your undergarment. His touch set you on fire.

When he'd gotten you completely bare and he was in the same state, he pulled back, not kissing you for a moment, just looking. You squirmed a little under his gaze, which was intense although caring. "What is it?" you questioned softly.

"Breathtaking." He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "You...carrying my child...you're very nearly a goddess."

That made the corners of your lips turn up sweetly, and you pulled him down for another kiss, his body hovering over you, careful not to put too much weight on your belly.

As you laid tangled in his sheets in the aftermath of it, your body was more wholly satisfied than it had been in a long time. You looked over at him, smiling softly and resting on your side. He reached out and rested his hand back on your cheek, stroking your soft skin. You felt a connection with him then, for the first time since your pregnancy began.

Coriolanus leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and feather light. He moved on the bed, so he was facing you. The soft light combined with what you'd just done made him look a way that pulled at your heart.

His eyes never left yours. You recognized that look. He was making sure you were comfortable, that you felt safe. Usually, you only saw that look at public events but seeing it right now after something so intimate sent a flutter through you.

"Will you stay tonight?" he murmured, one hand in your hair.

"Yes," you breathed. He opened his arms and let you snuggle close. As you drifted off, you felt one of his hands wander to your belly, caressing it gently. It was the first time he'd really touched it your entire pregnancy.

For the first time, you began to think of the baby in your belly as yours too. A baby. Your hand ran over your bump, and you smiled softly. It was both of your child. As much yours as it was his.

And you didn't mind it one bit.

He had vowed not to fall for you.

He had spent countless hours convincing himself he hadn't.

But after the night of the gala, he couldn't deny it anymore.

Every time Coriolanus looked at you, whether it be at the breakfast table when the sunlight filtered through the windows and hit your face just right, or when he looked up from his work every night when you were on his lap to see your concentrated face as you read, he felt the tendrils of feeling close around his heart.

He found himself becoming more affectionate with you. He used your pet names in an abundance, and he always felt like he needed to be touching you. You were the bright point in his life.

The last months of your pregnancy were bliss. Vesta rarely called on him, so he was free to spend all he free time with you.

Walking in the gardens, reading side by side. He'd press a kiss to your temple now and then, keeping you close, making sure you were well.

He feared childbirth for you the closer you got to it. Thoughts of his own mother, and the stories he'd heard of swam through his head and he held you a little tighter because of it.

Now he insisted you sleep in the same room as him, wanting to keep an eye on you. Sometimes he'd wake in the middle of the night and just watch you sleep, making sure your breathing was steady, wanting to be around in case you needed anything. He was paranoid you'd go into labor while he was asleep.

And of course, when you finally did, he was.

You woke him in a panic, the bedsheets soaked, telling him in hurried tones that it was time, that the baby was coming. He leapt into action immediately, sending for the doctor. The two of you had fallen asleep in your bedroom tonight, and when he tried to move you, you whimpered and shook your head, a cramp rippling through your body.

The doctor arrived, and everything was a blur after that. He never left your side, even though the sight of you in pain made him feel faint.

Before the both of you knew it, the baby was out, and you were collapsing back into the pillows, your body exhausted. Coriolanus looked over to the doctor, who was holding his new baby...

Girl.

Coriolanus stood up, his heart racing. A girl. Vesta would be furious. He was just outside the door after all, expecting the news any moment now.

He went to stand by the window as the doctor handed you the baby, gathering his thoughts. What would he tell Vesta? More importantly, what was the man going to do? His blood started to boil as he thought of Vesta hurting you in any way for this.

Looking over at you with the baby girl in your arms, close to your chest, he was filled with a sense of wonder. You'd grown his child, pushed it out of your body, and he was supposed to be upset that it wasn't a boy?

The door burst open, and Vesta revealed himself, looking over the scene. You rushed to cover yourself, and Coriolanus moved to your side, making sure you had some privacy.

"For heaven's sake Vesta," he said protectively. "You couldn't have allowed us ten minutes?"

"Not when the bloodline is at stake, my boy," Vesta said, grinning. "So, your son?"

"Not a son," you spoke up, cradling the baby close to you. You smiled down at your daughter, who was fast asleep.

The man's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what she said, Vesta," Coriolanus said in quiet tones. "Not a son. A daughter."

Vesta's face grew cold. "This is unacceptable. A daughter isn't good for the family."

"And yet," Coriolanus folded his arms, still standing in front of you.

"She will have to be hidden away. We'll tell the public the baby was stillborn," Vesta moved forward, as if to take the child from you.

You shook your head, holding the baby tight to your chest. "No, no don't."

"To have a firstborn daughter isn't good for your image," Vesta reached out for the baby. "Your wife is clearly defective in some way. We'll have the child taken away. Given to another Capitol family."

"No," you cried out, looking fearfully up at Coriolanus. You looked so scared, and the surge of protectiveness that shot through him was amplified with what you said next. "Coriolanus, don't let him take her."

As Vesta moved toward you, Coriolanus stood in his path. "You won't be taking our daughter."

Vesta's face grew sterner still. "I beg your pardon?"

Coriolanus was unmoving. "A son will come eventually. But in the meantime, our daughter will be claimed as ours."

"Your image-" Vesta started.

"Will not be ruined by a child," he cut him off. Coriolanus took a step toward Vesta, his frame tall and intimidating. "Since I enlisted your help in my career, you have been rude, demanding, and disrespectful, especially toward my wife." He glanced back at you. Your eyes were wide as you held the baby.

"If I ever see you insult my wife again," Coriolanus started, his voice quiet but deadly. "Even if I hear of it, I will not hesitate to make you disappear. You see, since last year, my resources have grown exceptionally. I suppose I have you to thank for that."

Vesta was silent, looking shocked at his words.

"Now get out before I have you escorted," Coriolanus pointed at the door. "Out."

Vesta huffed, straightening his suit. "If your career collapses, you'll only have yourself to blame." He cast a dirty look at you. "Well, I suppose not only you."

And with that, the older man left.

Coriolanus stood there seething for a moment. He had half a mind to run to his study and call the right people to have Vesta taken out right now. But he controlled himself. Later, he thought.

For now, he turned to you, kneeling beside the bed and pushing sweaty strands out of your face. "I'm sorry sweetheart."

"You stood up for me," you said, smiling softly as you looked up at him. You looked down at the baby. "You didn't let him take her."

"How could I?" Coriolanus murmured, leaning in and nudging his nose with yours, which made you smile again. "How could I when I..." he swallowed. "When I love you too much to let that happen."

Your eyes widened a bit, your smile sweeter. "You love me?"

"I think I've loved you ever since I've known you," he said, the adrenaline from the interaction with Vesta seeming to give him courage. "And after this..." he reached down to the baby, stroking her soft little cheek with his finger. "I can't keep it in anymore."

You watched as he sat on the bed next to you, encircling you and the baby in his arms, pushing a kiss to your hair. He smiled, a real smile he always found himself wearing around you.

"I didn't think I'd be able to love you when I married you," you said quietly, looking up at him. "But somehow I do."

He lifted your chin, kissing you briefly. "You love me?" He'd repeated your words, which made you smile.

"I love you," you confirmed, looking into his eyes. You looked so tired, but happy. He'd never understood before how one could feel happy because of someone else's joy, but now he did.

He kissed you again, wrapping his arms tightly around you and the baby, around his little family.

The sun rose that morning, the dawn of a new day, but also a new life for him. He now truly had his wife and his daughter, both so loved.

And he was loved too.

come talk about coryo here!

[yanderes-galore]

If you're comfortable, could I request a romantic concept for Endeavor (MHA)?

I have mixed feelings about him because I know he's going to horrid to Darling... but at the same time he'd probably try to redeem himself later- This doesn't have much of a plot but it takes place after Rei. The original draft I was doing took place where you replace Rei but I scrapped it for now. Take this as an AU that doesn't really connect to canon.

Yandere! Enji Todoroki (Endeavor) Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling (A section mentions female anatomy, however. This section is in pink), Obsession, Age gap, Possessive behavior, Manipulation, Abuse of power, Lucid yandere, Stalking, Marriage, Mentions of wanting/having children/baby trapping, Isolation, Dubious (forced) relationship.

In an alternate timeline where Enji decides to start anew from his old family, I can see him hesitate for once when he finds a new obsession.

After all, it's clear he's been horrible with relationships in the past.

He's only ruined his kids lives, same thing for his wife.

He probably doesn't even think he'll love again.

Then you come into his life, just about as annoying as Hawks, yet make him feel funny.

It's a familiar warmth... and he dreads it.

You're a new pro hero which means he's going to be dealing with you a lot.

This leaves him conflicted as now he'll have a harder time to suppress the burning warmth in him when he looks at you.

You're younger than him, at least half his age if not a bit older, he knows it would be unprofessional to do anything.

The good news, after his original family and the retirement of All-Might, he's much better than he was.

Unfortunately, if you ever got too close, old habits may make themselves known.

There's times you're so bratty... yet he knows it's just because you're young.

You're overconfident, yet you have a decently strong quirk.

Enji wants to be better, part of him even wants another chance at love, but doing it here would be poor choice.

You look up to him, something he both enjoys yet pities.

Which is why he'd probably stay quiet about his newest obsession for a long time.

He doesn't want to ruin your life.

You have promise, you don't need him to ruin everything.

At the same time... He worries he won't be able to hold back the longer you're around him.

To talk about Enji in general, he's a possessive yandere.

Even when he leaves his old family behind to make them happy, he'd still be bad with you.

Enji no doubt eventually would want to marry his obsession just to be able to show everyone you're his.

He knows marriage didn't go well for him before... but when he looks at you, he can't help but want others to know you're his.

That he's picked you.

To add onto that, if you have a womb... Enji would no doubt try to put a child in it.

I personally believe this man has a thing for strong successors.

Based on past behavior, that is.

So, if you were capable of having kids, Enji would eventually want that.

At first he'd be against it, knowing how his last four kids went, but the thought of giving you his kid...

It just makes him think it's another way to show you're his.

Even after losing his original family he's still possessive.

Old habits die hard, too bad you are on the receiving end.

Enji no doubt tries to be better.

He doesn't want a repeat of Rei.

He doesn't want to hurt this second chance, maybe he's just lonely but...

He wants to make you happy if you're involved with him, it's not like All-Might is in the picture anymore.

Enji may not even suggest a Quirk marriage in this case, perhaps this one he'll take his time with.

But your quirk is an added bonus as a fellow pro hero.

Enji tries his best to stay away and help you from afar.

He shouldn't have you, he doesn't deserve you, he can't ruin another...

Yet you grow close to him and he's trying to put a wildfire out.

I feel most pro heros would take a subtle manipulative approach towards their obsessions.

Things like coaxing their obsession into being involved with them.

Enji would try to stay away from it more due to past experiences.

But you just know he'll snap and start being closer with you.

It's no doubt an abuse of power due to his seniority.

Which is what makes it so manipulative.

You're both skilled heroes and you may even find dating the Endeavor flattering.

At first you think there's nothing wrong.

Completely unaware that being around Enji can get you burned.

Enji doesn't want to keep things hidden when he manages to date you.

He wants other heroes to know he's dating you.

That way no one else can sabotage him.

He wants people to know you for dating him.

When dating you he tries his best to be more amicable.

He doesn't try to hurt you, he's learned.

He's possessive and easily irritated when people bring you up... but never blames you.

He probably buys you what you want, even if you have the money as a hero.

He remembers certain aspects about you, even does it before you're dating.

Enji tries to hold himself back from marriage, but he may use it as another way to show you're his.

It's like a flex to him to say you're engaged. (even if you're not... but that's okay, he can change that.)

Plus, when he eventually gets you to marry him, it feels euphoric to slip on that ring.

He's admittedly nervous to ruin his second chance... which means he does his best to tend to you, even when he has work.

He wants to make things better.

If he notices you're falling out of love with him, or if you notice his more toxic behavior... he distracts you.

Others pity the relationship you two have, even if you are well cared for.

Most of his old family pity you, while Dabi finds it laughable Enji found someone else to torment.

Enji doesn't seem to care about the backlash.

As long as you love him, as long as he has that chance, as long as you're his...

Everyone else can burn.

Speaking of burns, early Enji may have used burns to mark his darling.

This time he refrains from that... but the thought is tempting.

Although... anything to show his mark on you couldn't be that bad, right?

He may not kidnap, but he'd definitely manipulate you into staying with him.

By the time the rose tinted glasses are off, you're in too deep.

If you can have children, you may even already be with child before you realize this... might've been a trap.

Enji likes to show ownership over his obsession.

While he may be caring with you, he's still controlling.

You're no longer your own person, perhaps even forced to give up being a hero.

You're his partner, you'll be known as his partner...

Enji doesn't plan on letting you leave, he'll use whatever means he deems necessary to keep you with him.

He'll lock you away, he'll bribe you, he'll baby trap you... anything.

Enji isn't going to mess this up again...

You're going to be his...

No matter what it takes.

[esgaril]

just a friendly reminder, because in the god discourse some people seem to conflate the gods of Exandria with the Christian god (including Ludinus): the Prime Deities never claimed to be all knowing and all good. that is not a thing that their followers expect of them. the divide between Primes and Betrayers comes from the continued existence of mortals. the Primes are pro-mortals, the Betrayers are anti-mortals

from the Tal'Dorei campaign guide:

as shown above out of the Primes in Downfall 3 were neutral (Lawbearer, Wildmother, Matron of Ravens) and 3 were good (Arch Heart, Everlight, Dawnfather). Taliesin explicitly said that this version of the Wildmother comes from Caduceus, this is the god he was following through all of c2. Ludinus kept saying that the gods were supposed to be good and caring, but I don't think they'd actually claimed to be like that. if he broadcasts all of Downfall to the world, followers of the Wildmother (and pretty much everyone with close connection to real nature, like farmers, hunters, etc.) will be like "well duh. we already knew she's like this. only sheltered tower-dwelling wizards would think that nature is a carefully tended park in the middle of a city". similarly, the followers of the Matron of Ravens won't be surprised that she's not a warm, nurturing god, but instead does what is needed to protect herself when threatened.

and there's another part of context that's not coming up very much: the Calamity was a war between the gods specifically about saving mortals. it's frequently mentioned as a "squabble" between family, but it is usually left out that the subject was not whose turn it is to do the dishes, but rather that mortals should exist or not. the Betrayers explicitly stated multiple times that their goal is to kill all mortals so the Primes could be free from taking care of them and could be with their family instead. the Primes wanted to protect their creation at the cost of locking away their siblings to keep mortals safe. that was the stake of the war. so when people are like "why should we care about the infighting of the gods?" - that's why. Taliesin as Ashton even said that half of the gods want mortals dead, but interestingly left out what the other half is doing about it.. probably, because the aswer, that the other half is fighting for the life of mortals doesn't really provide much ground for the "therefore they deserve to die" kind of solution.

additional reminder of details that seem to be missed/skipped often: Aeor was not the last bastion of mortals, that's Vasselheim, which was fighting and taking in refugees constantly throughout the Calamity. Aeor wasn't even the last flying city, Zemniaz and Kethesk/Draconia both lasted longer. far from being the champion of mortals, Downfall has shown us how Aeor exploited their fellow mortals who were still living on the surface (aka the rest of the world) and did not help them at all in the fight. in Hawk's Hill when hearing about the enemy incoming, instead of bringing out those mages with the wish spells they picked up the loot and ran, leaving their fellow mortals to die. those who survived that assault did so partially because of the children of the Everlight and the champion of the Matron of Ravens who were fighting along with the rest of the mortals. Aeor did quite the opposite of helping: they were planning to kill those who protected the mortals on the ground and didn't look like they had a plan to take up the role of protectors themselves afterwards. on the other hand the Primes were personally fighting side by side with mortals on the surface of Exandria for a century by the time of Downfall. that's why the solars were upset, because they stopped fighting for a while to deal with Aeor. and they went right back to it after the threat on their lives was gone. and they kept on fighting until all the Betrayers were contained, sustaining long lasting damages in the process. that is how the Calamity ended and the current (somewhat) peaceful age is possible: the Primes and mortals fought together and defeated the Betrayers. so just keep in mind what happened concurrently in other parts of the world and also what happened before and after when considering the events of Downfall. it didn't happen in isolation.

[ninjatrashpanda]

The Other Shoe (Waiting for it to drop)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round 2! Today's prompt is "Coming Out Scenes!"

Read it on AO3 here.

“I, uh, I think it’s time to face the music,” Buck whispered, tugging on Tommy’s sleeve. His eyes wandered over to his parents, who had watched him and Tommy like hawks throughout the entire reception, though Buck had a hard time predicting what they were thinking. On one hand, therapy had been going well, and while The Buckleys would probably never be the big happy family Buck had wished for as a kid, Mom and Dad were trying. They had been nothing but supportive about him being Connor and Kameron’s sperm donor last year, and Buck would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt a pang of appreciation when they had stood up for him against Chimney’s father and stepmother.

On the other hand, well, these were his parents, and old fears die hard. While they had apologized for how they had treated him and Maddie and become better, there was a little voice at the back of his head that told him they’d just be disappointed again. The fact that his mother hadn’t managed to get rid of the bewildered look on her face since he had dragged Tommy into Chimney’s hospital room didn’t help.

“Should I be scared?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Buck chuckled, though it sounded more like a nervous exhale. He stole another glance at his parents, then shifted his gaze to the floor, kicking at an imaginary speck of dust. “Nah,” he said, though he admittedly wasn’t even able to convince himself of that. “Not scared. Just... prepared.”

Tommy followed Buck’s gaze across the room, where Buck’s parents stood stiffly by a wall, half-empty champagne flutes clutched tightly in their hands. Buck knew they had been mingling just a few minutes ago, but he still couldn’t help but feel that they looked, well, out of place. While they were nothing but polite, they didn’t really mesh with anyone else, and always seemed a little awkward.

“They don’t seem like they bite,” Tommy observed, in that casual, dry tone Buck had grown to appreciate over the past few weeks. In an instant, a part of his anxiety evaporated and bubbled to the surface in a barely held back snort.

“Not literally, no.” Buck ran a hand through his hair with a shake of his head, the slight smile Tommy had brought to his face staying on his face. “It’s just... history, you know? They’re trying, and I get that, I do. But sometimes it’s like...” He trailed off with a shrug, struggling to find the right words. “It’s like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Tommy nodded, his hand reaching out to squeeze Buck’s. Buck had told him the basics, how Maddie had practically raised him, how their parents had been neglectful and controlling. He vaguely knew about Daniel, too, though Buck hadn’t delved into the whole Savior Baby thing yet. The subject was…touchy, to say the least, and while he knew he had to breach it at some point, he wanted Tommy to have as neutral an opinion on his parents as possible. They were putting in the effort, so Buck figured they deserved that much.

“Well,” Tommy said, squeezing Buck’s hand again, a bit firmer this time, “if things get weird, you’ve got me for backup. Just say the word, and I’ll distract them with my fake mouth static.”

Buck couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, which surprised even himself. Tommy had a knack for diffusing tension, and Buck was grateful for it. It was one of the reasons he had gravitated toward him in the first place. He tightened his grip on Tommy’s hand, drawing strength from the contact, before letting go and straightening up.

“Good idea. You’re renowned for your fake mouth static after all.”

“Damn right I am.”

They stood there for a moment, neither quite willing to take the first step towards the inevitable conversation. The reception was starting to wind down, (because the nurses were kicking people out now) so at least if this developed into a scene, not too many people would end up seeing. Chimney, now recovering well after the whole viral encephalitis debacle, was in high spirits, chatting animatedly with Hen and Karen. Maddie was close by his side, smiling brighter than he had ever seen, seemingly refusing to let go of her new husband’s arm.

The love between them gave Buck a tiny surge of courage. If Maddie and Chimney could find happiness after everything they had been through, then maybe things could work out with his and Maddie’s parents too.

“Alright,” Buck said, straightening his posture, bracing himself for impact. “Let’s do this.”

They crossed the room together, Tommy a step behind Buck, offering silent support. Buck’s parents straightened as he approached, their faces neutral masks. They clearly didn’t know how to react, and Buck could hardly blame them for that.

“Hi,” Buck said, forcing a smile. “You probably have a few questions.”

His mother’s eyes softened, but there was still a glimmer of uncertainty in them. His father cleared his throat, his grip on the champagne flute tightening just slightly. The atmosphere was stiff, and the air felt thick enough to cut it with a knife.

“Hi, Buck,” his mother replied, her voice wavering just a bit. Buck was actually (positively) surprised that she used his nickname, though he had to admit it sounded almost foreign in her voice. “Yes, we, uh…” She glanced at his father, who nodded, urging her to continue. “We do have some questions, but—”

“We don’t want to push,” his father interjected, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “We’re just… trying to understand.”

Buck nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. They weren’t throwing accusations and bad faith arguments around, so that was a good start. Still, Buck knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet. He hadn’t spoken about the big B yet, after all.

“Yeah,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit he hadn’t quite outgrown. “I figured. And, uh, it’s okay to ask. I know this is… a lot.”

He could see the moment his mother tried to put on a brave face, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We were surprised, that’s all,” she said. “When you came into the room with…”

She trailed off, her eyes moving over Buck’s shoulder to where he knew Tommy stood just a foot or two behind him. He took a deep breath. This was it. No going back. He had thought about it for weeks at this point, had said it out loud to himself in the mirror, but not to anybody else, not even Maddie or Tommy.

“Tommy.” He turned slightly, reaching out his hand out to Tommy, who took it into his own with a smile as he stepped up. “Mom, Dad, this is Tommy Kinard. He’s my date. He, uh… he’s the reason I figured out that I’m bisexual.”

The words hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. Buck could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the sound of his blood rushing through his ears almost deafening. He knew this moment was pivotal (one of the most important in his life, probably) and the weight of it pressed down on him like the world on Atlas’ shoulders.

His parents exchanged glances, and Buck could see an onslaught of emotions flitting across their faces: surprise, confusion, and perhaps a flicker of something that could be hope. His mother’s fingers tightened around the stem of her champagne flute, and his father took a small step closer to her.

Tommy, for his part, stayed by Buck’s side, his presence a quiet but powerful anchor. He gave Buck’s hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent promise that he was here, and that he wouldn’t leave. Buck was grateful for that; it reminded him that no matter what was going to happen, he wasn’t alone.

His mother was the first to speak. “Bisexual,” she repeated, as if testing the word on her tongue. Her brow furrowed slightly, but there was no trace of anger or disappointment in her tone. Instead, she seemed...curious. “I…well, I didn’t expect that.”

Buck could see his father’s jaw tighten momentarily before he let out a slow breath. “Buck,” he began, his voice careful, deliberate. “This is…this is a lot to take in. But I want you to know that we’re listening. We’re trying to understand.”

Buck nodded. This wasn’t a rejection, not outright. But it wasn’t exactly acceptance either, not yet, at least. Still, it was something, and in this moment, something was better than nothing.

“I know it’s a lot,” Buck said, his voice quieter now. “And I don’t expect you to get it all at once. I only figured it out a few weeks ago, too. I just wanted you to know, because…because it’s who I am. And Tommy… he’s important to me.”

His mother’s eyes softened at that, and Buck could see her shifting, recalibrating her thoughts, trying to process this new piece of information about her son. “Tommy,” she said, as if tasting the name for the first time. She looked at him then, really looked at him, and there was something in her gaze that was almost…gentle. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled, his usual confidence replaced by an almost shy nervousness. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Buckley. And Mr. Buckley,” he added, nodding respectfully toward Buck’s father.

Buck’s father gave a small nod in return, though his expression remained unreadable. “Tommy,” he repeated, his voice a bit more measured. “You’re… Buck’s boyfriend?”

Buck sucked in a sharp breath. Obviously that question would come up. He should’ve been prepared for it, but he wasn’t. He and Tommy hadn’t even really had that conversation. He’d certainly like for Tommy to be his boyfriend, he just wasn’t sure if Tommy was at that point yet. It had only been a few weeks after all. They had been on four dates, one of which was a complete disaster, and another that hadn’t even been a date at first, but an apology for the date that had been a complete disaster.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, his tone steady. “I’m his boyfriend. And I know this might be surprising, but Evan…he means a lot to me. I care about him.”

Buck’s breath hitched in his throat. He hadn’t expected Tommy to say it outright. He had expected a lighthearted “Not yet” or “We’re seeing each other.” That he’d gone right ahead… Buck’s heart swelled just a little bit. He squeezed Tommy’s hand a little tighter, grateful beyond words. Tommy’s answer made Buck just a little braver.

Finally, his mother spoke again. “I…I see,” she said, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. She looked at Buck, her eyes searching his, as if trying to reconcile the son she knew with these new things she was learning about him. “And you… you’re happy?”

Buck felt a lump rise in his throat. It was such a simple question, but it carried so much baggage. She wasn’t asking if he was happy with Tommy. She was asking if he was happy with himself, something that would’ve been absolutely unthinkable just three years ago.

“I am,” Buck replied, his voice growing more assured. “I’m happy, Mom. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

His mother’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she nodded slowly, as if coming to a decision within herself. She reached out then, tentatively, her hand hovering in the air for a moment before she placed it on Buck’s arm. “That’s all we want, Buck,” she whispered, her voice wavering a little. “We just want you to be happy.”

His father, who had been silent for most of the exchange, cleared his throat again. “It’s…a lot to adjust to,” he admitted, his voice gruff but not unkind. “But if this is who you are, and if this man makes you happy, then…well, we’ll do our best to understand.”

Buck felt a surge of relief wash over him, so powerful that it nearly knocked him off his feet. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was something. Something good. It was yet another step toward healing their relationship, and for that, he was grateful.

“Thank you,” Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for not, like, freaking out.”

His father gave a small nod, and his mother’s hand tightened on his arm, a silent reassurance that they were, in fact, trying. Tommy smiled and wrapped his arm around Buck’s shoulders, Buck leaning into his side almost automatically, enjoying the warmth of their connection.

His mother glanced over at Tommy, her expression softening further. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner before we fly back to Hershey, Tommy,” she said, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “We’d like to get to know you better.”

Tommy’s eyes widened at the invitation, and Buck didn’t blame him. It was already unusual that Tommy had met his parents this early, but getting invited to family dinner? That was big. “I’d love to, Mrs. Buckley. Thank you.”

Buck’s father gave a curt nod, not quite ready to add anything further, but his stance had relaxed just a little. There was still a long way to go, a lot of conversations to be had, but in that moment, Buck knew they were moving in the right direction.

As the reception continued to wind down, Buck stood there with Tommy by his side, his parents before him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a cautious sense of optimism. The journey ahead would be challenging, there was no doubt about that, but they were all still here, still trying, and that was more than Buck could have hoped for when he first approached them.

As they exchanged a few more words, lighter now, less fraught with tension, Buck realized that this was what he had been waiting for all along. Not just acceptance, but the willingness to grow, to move forward together. And maybe that was enough to help the wounds of the past heal.

[bibibbon]

MHA chapter 426

4 more chapters until MHA ends and wow!!!

Honestly this chapter was mainly the conclusion of the todoroki family arc which I still hate how it played out and ended. The whole todoroki family NOT INCLUDING ENJI deserves so much better than what horikoshi gave them.

Hawks is the new HPSC leader?!?! I feel like the system should of just been destroyed considering how much it hurt everyone and hawks by no means has any proper character development to take this role. Hawks hasn't really broken down his flawed beliefs or truly developed from his mentality that ended up getting one of the most redeemable league of villains members aka twice killed. Also he barely reflects on his actions and all of this feels so underwhelming and unprepared for.

Todoroki family deserves better. The ABSLOUTELY vile ending the todoroki family received is horrible like I really feel like they should just runaway and live in a house without endeavour and actually take up on endeavours attornment bs. Like the only one who gets it is natsou who has every right to live with his girlfriend and keep her far away from that environment and oh my Rei deserves so much better both narratively and by the fandom.

Enji still sucks. Yeah I can't lie nothing this man can do can make me like him and it doesn't help that hori has written all of those retcons to humanise him and make him pitiful. I feel like when it came to the todoroki family arc enji took on a whole lot of screentime WHICH HE SHOULDNT OF!!! That should of gone to shoto and the rest of the family and an easy way to fix it is to simply have killed enji in the first war arc (as was initially planned but hori changed it later on) ALSO I SAY LET TOUYA REST AT THIS POINT!!! having him just mechanically alive and stuck is horrible honestly I think that death is much more of a merciful fate for him at this point.

So lady nagant chose to go to jail?!?! Her reasoning for it is actually so sad though and it really shows how much hero society traumatised her. Like the woman didn't want to be free so she can't be used by anyone and would rather spend time in prison over it. I wish that she was hawk's mentor from the begining because the vibe those two give is absolutely amazing and it would enhance the parallels and relationship they have if they were. Honestly I hope hawks actually does a good job but Iam still all for the destruction of hero society and I doubt hawks is actually going to reform it properly also the hero society is so deeply flawed that I don't think there is a proper way to reform more like just scratch everything out and start fresh.

Spinner is back. I hope I don't see him have a breakdown when he realises what happend to the league because I can't handle that. Also that begs the question I thought that spinner had become somewhat brain dead after all he's been through so how did he turn back from being a giant nomu?

I can't handle the sibling angst too bad that touya and shoto didn't have a better arc. The whole shoto trying to know touya better and him revealing that soba is also his favourite food softens my heart. In another universe where enji doesn't get a redemption touya gets one while justice is served to the todoroki family.

Gentle criminal and la brava getting justice. (The only good part of the chapter fr)

in conclusion this chapter was horrible if we look at it from a story perspective due to how badly MHAs already established plot points and themes are handled!!!

Also what happend to the random character in the last chapter!!! I hope we get closure on that soon

[thirrith]

A guide to Dream of the Red Chamber for English speakers

I've been posting about a book called Dream of the Red Chamber for a while. I'm kinda obsessed with it but the tags here on tumblr are pretty much barren. I want to get more people to be interested in it, so here's something more informative with minimal screaming.

Dream of the Red Chamber (紅樓夢) is a 18th century Chinese novel by Cao Xueqin. It isn't very well-known outside of the Sinophone aka the Chinese-speaking world, whereas where I come from it's considered a masterpiece and classic and is so well-known and holds so much cultural significance even the people who haven't necessarily read the book make references to it - like, basically everybody knows about the book. It certainly deserves to be known and loved by more people - that's why I'm making a post about it. This post is NOT going to be an attempt to cover everything, though, because there is just so, so much to the book; instead, I am creating a guide to make it easier for people to get started if they are interested.

What is Dream of the Red Chamber about? Why do people love it?

The best way to sum it up is calling it a family saga mixed with a bit of fantasy. It tells the story of the rise and fall of a big and powerful family, focusing on the story of the young girls, the maid servants, and the wives that all live together and run the household. The only male main character Jia Baoyu is a young heir of the family, who grew up among these women and girls. He loves and understands them, loves being surrounded by them, and deeply identifies with them. My dad, who is also a fan of the book, loves saying that Baoyu 'has the heart of a maiden'.

The book is funny and full of drama, and at the same time it's also poetic, tragic and profound, and the tragedy of the characters is written in such a kind way, as if the author wants you to love them and remember how wonderful and alive they are despite the fact that a gloomy fate will claim them all.

The book is also so queer in a way that no other Ming/Qing dynasty Chinese novels can compare. Obviously there are no modern queer labels because it was written in imperial China, but there are characters who are interested in both men and women, characters who are interested in no one, and affairs between boys and between girls; many main characters have the kind of relationships with their gender that make my Chinese transgender heart sing with empathy.

If you want to hear from English speakers who fell in love with the book and learn more about the context and literary/cultural value of the book, I recommend starting with 'Why is China’s greatest novel virtually unknown in the west?' by Michael Wood on The Guardian and 'Why you should read China’s vast, 18th century novel, Dream of the Red Chamber' by Josh Stenberg on The Conversation.

Dream of the Red Chamber is a long novel with many different versions and possibly hundreds of adaptations. How should I begin?

There are two translations that I know have received good reviews:

A Dream of Red Mansions translated by Yang Hsien-yi and Gladys Yang. My partner is reading this version. It's a very faithful translation with footnotes to make up for the language and cultural barriers. (Note: the Yangs finished their translation in prison in China during the Cultural Revolution.)

The Story of the Stone translated by David Hawkes and John Minford. It's a translation that takes more artistic liberties than the Yangs version. For example it differs in the way it translates character names and its writing style. Hawkes wanted to recreate the experience of reading the novel in Chinese for English speaking readers, but it may also be harder for you to talk to those who read the book in Chinese about certain characters and details.

There is also a public domain translation by H. Bencraft Joly, which was first published in the 19th century, and you can find it on Project Gutenberg.

The 1987 36-episode TV adaptation Dream of the Red Chamber is well-loved and considered by many Chinese people to be the best adaptation of the book. Every later adaptation would be compared with the 1987 one and found lacking. I personally love this adaptation a lot, and I think out of all the adaptations I've seen (including TV series, films and Chinese opera) it has the best interpretations of the book and the characters. It also has the best songs, which were adapted from the poems in the book. You can stream the series with English subtitles on the Internet Archive.

If you want something shorter that covers the main romance plot line and includes a few iconic scenes from the book, I recommend the 1977 film adaptation The Dream of the Red Chamber casting legendary actress Brigitte Lin as Jia Baoyu (she also portrayed an iconic classic wuxia character as a trans woman in another film franchise, but I digress). You can find the film with English subtitles on Youtube.

This is not all, but it's a good start. If you ever decide to give it a go, it doesn't matter if you watch one of the adaptations first or read the book first. Don't stress, take your time, and enjoy the ride!

[criminalmutantsins]

Anybody Else Disappointed With How Hawk’s Been Written Lately?

(Exclaimer: I still really like MHA & Hawks)

WARNING RECENT MANGA SPOILERS Personally, ever since he killed Twice, Hawk’s character has slowly gone downhill.

It started when there weren’t any moments where Hawk’s feelings on killing Twice weren’t shown. I know he didn’t want to, but seeing Hawks feel the guilt would coincide well with the hero society’s corruption.

Another thing that would’ve been interesting is Hawk’s having mixed feelings on Endeavor after learning about how the latter treated his children. For a long time, Hawks saw Endeavor as a role model like Midoriya and Bakugo with All Might, so I think learning that his hero isn’t so different from his own father would be good character development. Hawks would feel confused on how he should feel about Endeavor for a bit, but will learn to see Endeavor as human after seeing him wanting to atone for what he did. It would be good for the plot too since it’s a parallel to how civilians heavily admire and rely on the heroes while forgetting that they aren’t perfect people.

I don’t like Hawk’s ending. Instead of becoming the new HC president, I would’ve preferred Hawks taking a break from the hero life and learn to live as Keigo Takami. Hawks lived most of life training to be a hero and a tool for the Hero Commission. He deserves to step back. Also, with the Chapter 429 leaks, I didn’t like Hawks new idea with the hero rankings. It doesn’t change the core issues with hero society. I’m going to be hopeful that the last chapter will show positive changes.

Something else I didn’t like was Hawks saying he abandoned his family and should’ve helped. That couldn’t be further from the truth. His parents abused him and his mom abandoned him to the hero commission. Hawks was just a kid. It was also in bad taste when Hawks commended Shoto for forgiving Endeavor when Hawks couldn’t with his parents. This makes it seem like not forgiving your abuser is a bad thing, which it’s not. The main point of moving on with your trauma is to heal from it, not forgive your abuser. If Hawks couldn’t forgive his parents, that’s okay.

I still really like Hawks, but I feel like he wasn’t written to his full potential.

[moralofallthestories]

CK s6 part1 spoilers‼️

This is going to be mostly my rant on ep5 and some plots from the previous episodes

- My heart BREAKS for Tory, it’s like the writers just decided to add more on top of the misery from her story last season. S5 the girl broke up with someone she loves and cares about for Kreese’s plan, ended up hurting herself badly and had no one by her side the entire season, and now they just decided to kill off her mom just when her life is starting to get better. What did she do to deserve this??

- Look how quickly Daniel and Johnny moved on to Hawk for their selections literally after they all learned about Tory’s mother’s death, like if you both are such good senseis, wouldn’t it be nice to actually give a shit about Tory and her grief?? Instead of making if about yourself, how about we actually go console her and making sure she’s okay or at least be there? Both of them are such bad mentors for the kids, first is how they handled Kenny’s situation after he got humiliated with the accident, Johnny only spoke up when he’s fighting for Devon and Daniel rlly favors his kids than his other students. If any of these two even showed the same attention and support to Kenny and Tory, I’m sure neither of them would actually quit Miyagi-Do so quickly on the spot. Some sensei they really are huh.

- Robby my man, I get that going to the Sekai Taikai is important for you but are you really gonna do nothing after your girlfriend’s meltdown about her mother’s death? At this point this show’s writing is so bad I don’t wanna hear about any “they probably did this off-screen” kinda bullshit no more. I swear if part 2 has any point of showing him standing on the moral high ground accusing Tory of switching sides like what he did to her in s5 imma riot, cancel my Netflix subscription along with my family plan :))

- Based on s5 and what we’ve seen so far, my headcanon for Robby & Tory is that he’s the one that usually texts her first and he texts more but she’s not good with it, she’s not good with expressing her emotions either so sooner or later they’re gonna face this communication problem in the relationship (of which the problem was clearly shown before in s5 when they “broke up”)

- While the privileged kids talking about their top colleges and applications, what Robby and Tory had was the Sekai Taikai - underdogs in the top 4

- Devon, my girl…not a good decision…why you choose to go on that path

- I can never like Anthony he really gets on my nerves

- Bad writing with all those conflicts overall, hated how they handled Kenny’s character especially trying to embarrassing him for the flag fight. I was hoping to see him and his brother in more action but you can never expect too much from Cobra Kai writers I guess

- The baby storyline continues…the most boring and unnecessary storyline that ruins Johnny’s character as a father and a sensei

- CK really has this type of half assed writing throughout all seasons why am I surprised lmao

The good part:

- Sam & Tory’s reconciliation and their apologies to each other, the sleepover pillow fight was so cute and I love seeing both of them are so done with Johnny’s instigating

- Robby and Tory’s promise of standing together

- How Robby found himself & his confidence again after seeing Tory showed up, this is what partners influence each other

- Robby & Tory’s little nod to each other whenever one of them is fighting someone else, no words but it means so much more

- Johnny & Mike’s fight - it has to be purely a fan service kinda fight but I’ll take it

- Hawk & Demitri’s fight, unnecessary but it surely was entertaining

- Kyler’s redemption, I’m actually happy they didn’t give him a glamorous redemption and try to change him completely to let him join Miyagi-Do, it’s nice to see that his frat boy personality is still there

- Kwon’s fighting skills are some real deal

[tonyboneysblog]

ACCIDENTAL NAB P2

paring: thief!hawks x princess!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: profanity

Notes: part two! I really love this series sm😭 hawks his mean also

Summary: thief!hawks steals you away and takes you far from your home! On accident…

Part one: ACCIDENTAL NAB P1

You feel warm. you’re soundly sleeping after you dosed off, still not trusting the three men who took you away from your home.. (obviously)

your dreams have never been nice ones but for once they feel warm, you can vividly see all of your sisters crammed together trying to guess all the words in your fathers books.

you can hear them laughing while you walk into the room, they see you and their eyes brighten.

They practically beg you to read the book aloud to the three of them, you walk over and cuddle into their warmth. They whisper soft comments about the story while slowing falling under sleeps spell.

It’s so warm in this dream, you want to be here for- flick!

you open your eyes to see yellow ones staring right into your very soul.

“Morning!” He loudly chirps.

“…mph” your mouth is still gagged by the cloth, of course it is.

“Well I’m assuming that’s a good response instead of an insult…”

You look around the carriage, it’s not terrible but it’s not as good as yours back at home…obviously.

Dabi speaks up, “listen here and listen good, princess, we don’t need you causing a..ruckus while we’re in this god forsaken place.”

“Hey I quite like this trading post” the blonde responds.

“Shut the hell up hawks.” Dabi says curtly.

Hawks raises his hands in the air as a surrender motion, while Tokoyami hustles towards you. Guiding you out of the carriage .

“Just follow close to us.” Tokoyami says in a whisper.

You glance around the bigger town, many are staring, many scoff…for some reason.

Your used to the stares, mostly because your the princess, but still your surprised no one has recognized you yet? Don’t you people love you, shouldn’t they immediately recognize someone they worship?!

You wish you could just run away but, these three men are huddled around you like your some…Someone to be bought! And you are in fact priceless.

The four of you pass by many shops, some more worn down than others…god you miss your kingdom.

“There’s the bar…” Dabi says.

Hawks scoffs, “please Dabi, we’re with royalty at the moment, maybe don’t think about getting wasted?”

Dabi sighs, slouching down slightly in defeat…”her damn fault for hiding in a box.”

Tokoyami snickers softly, until you send him a glare that could envy your fathers.

He clears his throat, “don’t question the future queens decisions…”

Dabi laughs, “if she’s the future queen then we’re all doomed, thank the gods we took-“

“Could you two maybe not speak so loudly of us having the princess..?” Hawks angrily whispers towards the two.

They all finally shut their traps. You’d rather listen to your sister rant about how ‘gorgeous the gardener is!’.

you just want to be with your family honestly.

Your father always bossed you around anyways, you should be glad for this small bit of freedom! But, he only did it because he loved you…or maybe because you looked so much like your mother.

No, no, no thinking about the past…these men don’t even deserve to see your tears roll down your face! They’d probably collect them and sell it to the night market anyway…

You finally reached the shop you were supposed to be at, you watch as some of your most luxurious items go towards the shop keeper, as his eyes widen with glee.

“Sorry about your stuff…” Tokoyami whispers softly into your ear, “we do what we have to.”

“Mmphph”

The four of you leave after making a deals, the men stashing the shined golden coins into their pouches. How has no one recognized you still? Can’t they see your their next Queen?!

no matter how many eyes you stare dead into, no one even makes a move to help. Maybe they’re just scared to butt in!

or maybe…they don’t even know who you are.

you shake your head, I mean you weren’t as popular as your sisters, with all their beauty and charm…but! You were the oldest. Maybe that’s why no prince asked for your hand in marriage.

No, y/n stop that, you are just as great as all your sisters! Someone will have to recognize you, right?

“Should we rest here for the night sir?” Tokoyami says to hawks.

Hawks looks glances at you, then towards Tokoyami, “you tired ‘Yami?”

Tokoyami nods, “only slightly, I’m just worried for the…our friend here.”

Three kidnappers worried about your sleep schedule is absolutely perplexing to you.

“Yknow my favorite thing about SableStome has always been their amazing inns.” Dabi says with dullness.

Hawks laughs, “Can’t tell if you’re being serious or sarcastic.”

Dabi sighs, “Their beds are nice.”

Hawks then confidently starts to stride to the inn, “I suppose we have to stay then, right?”

confident men are always your least favorite, I mean no man has actually spoken more than 10 words to you but still.

Honesty you feel a twinge of excitement that you’ll be sleeping in a nice soft bed instead of a small, stuffy carriage…or box.

Hawks swings open the door to the inn and walks over towards the front desk, “two beds please~” he coos out.

The woman at the front desk smiles softly, “it’s nice to see you again hawks, new friend coming with you?” She ushers towards you.

no, your not their new “traveling buddy”, your the very popular and very kidnapped princess!

“Yep! She’s not the talker though…” says hawks.

Of course you’re not a talker, you’re being gagged by some nasty hanker cheif.

“Alrighty, here’s your key!” She slides the key over towards hawks.

“Thank you sweetie..” he says.

The sun has almost finished setting, you can tell from the window you’re looking out of, it’s gorgeous…reminds you of when your mother would take you to the shoreline and spill wise words from her mouth.

it’s truly terrible that you no longer remember a single thing she’s said.

“Hey, snap out of it” Hawks comes into your peripherals, “we got a nice room for ya, princess, cmon…”

He walks away. It’d be nice to get some rest..at least you couldn’t think about the past in your sleep, or atleast not too in depth.

You walk up the stairs, following behind hawks closely, opening the door then looking around the room.

It’s about the size of your closet, not terrible, the beds are kinda big at-least, only two…wait two?

Who in gods name is trying to cuddle up to you in the middle of the night? No princess should be…even sleeping near someone of their status!

Hawks looks towards your distressed expression, “What?”

“Mphpmph!” You muffle out.

“Do you want the gag off..?”

Well it would be nice, but that wasn’t what you were trying to say!

“Mrmphphpm”

“I mean…promise you won’t yell?” He says softly.

Well there’s really no point in yelling, what’s the clerk gonna do against three men….

You nod eagerly, hawks shakes his head letting out a small chuckle, “fine, fine.”

He pulls down your hood, undoes your scarf, then unties your gag, pocketing it. Slightly gross but at least it’s off now.

“You must be out of your damned, trivial, insignificant mind if you think I’m even sharing a bed with you, you big boned avian.”

Hawks sighs, “I didn’t take it off so you could just be mean…”

“you heard me.” You say.

Hawks looks at you, “what do you want me to do, sleep on the floor?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking! glad your meager brain could think the same as me.”

“Alright the gag is going back on-“ “w-wait hold on!”

Hawks stops, raising his eyebrow.

“I-I uhm…it is improper for someone of my status to sleep with...you.”

Hawks rolls his eyes, “look, you may think your reallll important but your sisters are way more admired than you are. We barely even recognized you as royalty.”

well ouch…

He continues, “Not to mention that not one single person has even tried to help you, so stop complaining about who you sleep next to.”

Tokoyami steps in, “no need to be so harsh to her, Hawks, I doubt you would want to sleep near people who accidentally kidnapped you..?”

“Well she wanted to be all sassy!” Hawks says agitated.

Dabi speaks from the bed, “I say she needed the wake-up call.”

“You’re not helping.” Tokoyami says.

You stomp over towards the vacant bed, slamming yourself down into it.

“Hm, guess she’s over it!” Hawks says cheerfully.

Tokoyami and Dabi sigh, hawks looks at both of them, “what?”

Their voices slowing fade as you push yourself farther and farther into your own head. You’re already having a terrible time, being kidnapped and all, but they just rub the salt deeper into the wound!

How would mother respond? never mind actually, she would have never fussed in the first place. Father most likely would have beat their head into a plup. Mother made him soft, made you soft, then she was gone.

Your sisters barely remember her, but you remember her smile, your father says she looks exactly like you.

You can feel the a second weight be put onto the bed, you don’t care who it is, hopefully it’s the nice bird headed one.

do your sisters miss you as much as you miss them? Who’ll read to them, who’ll will be there to check their dress or if they look presentable enough to see the man who wants their hand in marriage?

You open your eyes slightly, looking towards a window. It’s dark out, how long have you been stuck in your own head?

You rise from the bed quietly, you look at the door, it’s locked tight so you can run out. You make your way towards the windowsill, sitting down.

Your tired but not tired enough to fall asleep just yet, your heads to full of thoughts anyway, when have you ever been this sentimental?

The moon is beautiful tonight, bright and fully lit. You’re glad your father taught you how to read because then you’d never know how the moon changes.

You didn’t know which one you liked more, the sun or the moon? Then again the sun could shine by itself while the moon needed the sun to shine even half as bright.

“What’re you doing..?” Says a soft, sleepy voice.

You look over to where the voice could’ve been, locking eyes with yellow ones.

“Nothing.” You says curtly.

Hawks rubs his eyes, “your one weird princess, huh?”

“That’s rude.”

“You’re rude.”

There’s silence after hawks speaks.

“Well-“

He cuts you off, “Come back to bed.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t, I just don’t want a grumpy princess in the morning…”

You huff, “fine.” Then plop yourself onto the bed, “don’t suffocate me with your wings, I’m important.”

“Sure you are…” he says tiredly.

“I am.”

“I’m not disagreeing.”

“good.”

You close your eyes, the warmth he emits isn’t…terrible. In fact, it’s quite comforting.

“Hey” hawks whispers.

“what.” Your reply quietly.

“Why were you in that box, no judgement it’s just…weird?”

You sigh, “I was…playing hide and seek.”

He starts laughing, covering his mouth so he wouldn’t wake the others, “stupid…”

He flips around, facing you. “sorry that we took you…”

“yes, you should be..”

“You are so hard to be nice to..”

“My father-“

“I don’t wanna hear about your father, I already see his face in every town we go to.”

Well isn’t that insulting, your father is wonderful!…wait, do the people see your face too?

“Hmph.”

“What?”

“Do you see my face too?…in public?”

Hawks looks towards the ceiling, then back at you, “I see your sisters more.”

“Hm…”

That’s why no one recognized you, your barely even publicized.

“Don’t know why though, I personally think you’re prettier than your sisters” he says faintly.

“Really?”

“no.”

“Asshole.”

He starts giggles, his wings puffing up slightly.

“Such a way with words eh? I’ll leave you alone now”

“good, your terrible company.”

He snickers and turns to his side, facing away from you.

“Night, princess”

You only hum in agreement.

It’s not terrible here, but you oh so badly want out from this small freedom.

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE STEPHEN STRANGE HEADCANONS

You most likely must have met him through his time of him being a surgeon or a doctor, or you must've been some hero like him to catch his attention and make him notice you. Now, Stephen is someone who doesn't get impressed too easily but somehow you managed to impress him and for that, congratulations :) You now have a yandere wizard or sorcerer at the back of you

Heck, you might even be a random person just minding your own business and he feels intrigued by how unfazed and calm you appear. Now, when it comes to him getting obsessed with you, he's gonna be getting completely cocky since he's pretty sure his actions are subtle and you wouldn't possibly find out. He'll start trying his best to impress you either with his magic or his car, watches or even making balloon animals for you lol

You might be able to avoid him not for long since this man here can create portals and everything like a modern day Kurogiri, unless you work in the medical field like him. He'll literally make sure you stay WITH him where he can keep an eye on you and watch your graceful movements like a hawk

He can be really sneaky when it comes to stalking you. You won't even know he's stalking you at some point since he's damn good at hiding and lying low when stalking you

As a yandere, I have a feeling he might be possessive, obsessive and maybe a little bit.... manipulative too since he's also kinda good at sweet talk I think

Doctor Strange here really loves and admires your upbeat personality and the fact that you're sarcastic like him makes his heart beat even more for you. He'll listen to you sing and applaud you, telling you how wonderful and melodious your voice is. He thinks you sing like an angel but he doesn't like it when you show affection to undeserving morons that don't even deserve to LOOK at your direction. He'll get jealous if you hang out with Tony too often since you both are buddies and pals and so, he'll do his best to drag you away from him and try showing you some cool trick that'll end up leaving you impressed with it and him being proud and smug AF while he smirks. Cocky prick....

He'll kidnap you when he feels like you're either in danger or he just needs to have you with him, that's it PERIODT. He would have stalked you for something like 6 months to more and everything about you. He'll know and understand you'll be scared and confused and angry and you have to hand it to the man here, he has a lot of patience. But if you piss him off, you're wandering into dangerous territory. Does he feel bad for what he's done? Not even a little bit

If you try fighting him, he'll think it's amusing and not to mention adorable that you think you actually have a CHANCE of beating him and escaping him. He'll do his best to make you happy and will create and give you things with his magic. That's a pro of being in a relationship with a wizard lol. The worst way he could punish you is locking you in a room with his magic preventing you from escaping. He just wants you to love him and yes, he DOES intend having a family with you as well. Maybe 3-4 little ones running around. You best pray this man doesn't get jealous since if he does, he'll send many death glares to that person and after that, he's gonna torture them in the most brutal way possible with his magic. And he'll find out whatever you're planning since he's a sorcerer of course. Little things he likes doing with you are cuddling with you and talking about things you like. He shares the same interest in astrology as you and loves hearing you talk about it, and the way your eyes shine with interest. He'd feel like the worst person on the planet when he sees you crying and he'll do his best to comfort you, he knows it's tough but you can face the challenges together as a couple, he'll help you and be there for you no matter what

Even death won't be able to separate the 2 of you since he'll just find a way to bring you back to life. So, that 'Till death do us'' part won't apply. He might act like one hell of a god damn Tsundere once in a while but secretly, he's a complete sucker for your affection

[doodlegirl1998]

Hi, reading a fic (shig x hawks hear me out I was bored and want to see different charactizations of Mr. Sexy man) and in one scene as shig talks about his past...

It hits me once again how Izu doesn't have a mc trait.

Not saying he should be an orphan or anything like that.

But think this way: shig is the grandson of Nana. He is a Shimura.

Izu has nothing. I do like how he is from no important family...but he has no mc trope. He is an extra in his own show.

His traumatic past is BK abusing him but that doesn't count, ofc, and what else Izu has in his storyline? He wants to be a hero (everyone does) he is good with quirks sure and good with lil kids but....what else?

To be clear, don't think shig is better written or developed at all...and his reveal as SHIMURA was weak sauce and no one gave a shit.

But like there SMTH.

When you think about it....Shig had a better childhood than Izu...and yes, Kotaro was abusive. Yes, not denying that but like...he has monchan, friends and a mom who cared for him.

Izu has nothing but bk...forever.

Hi @mikeellee 👋

I'm not going to judge, read whatever interests you, but Hawks / Shig isn't a ship I like.

You are right when you say that Izuku doesn't have any traditional MC traits.

Now, it could be argued that OFA / "the chosen one" trope is used with Izuku being the final user. However, that, quite frankly, is bullshit because this ended up meaning nothing narratively, and Izuku lost OFA anyway. And an OFA user didn't end AFO - Bakugou (a no-name bastard) outside this passed down legacy of OFA did.

Izuku came from a no-name civilian family in MHA, no DFO, no other secret important linnege (unlike Shig and Dabi) - Inko is barely explored and Hisashi is mentioned in name only.

Unlike other MCs with tragic backstories (i.e Naruto and Tanjiro) Izuku's traumatic past abuse at the hands of Bakugou is undermined at every turn to make Bakugou look better instead of being treated with the respect it deserves.

To make matters worse, Bakugou is the reason Izuku suffered so much. No such abuse of the quirkless is seen LITERALLY ANYWHERE ELSE in canon. In canon, there is no Quirkless Discrimination seen in society (perhaps because there are so few of them). All of Izuku’s suffering is down to Bakugou being a bastard because he liked to be and couldn't handle being helped out of a river once.

Izuku is stuck with this literal narrative parasite until the very end and accepting pity payments from him so he can get his very own 'big boy' Hero Iron Suit after 6-8 years. I am disgusted by this ending.