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cressidagrey · 1 day

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Stars all aligned - Chapter 1

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, definitely disordered eating, kinda depression?, isolation

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

He found her deep inside the House of Wind. Far enough from the festivities of Starfall that it was startling to find her.

The second oldest Archeron Sister must have wandered off just like he had.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Azriel asked her as he spied her sitting in a puddle of her skirts on one of the couches, staring at the empty fireplace.

“Why aren’t you?” Zahra gave back drily, not even looking up at him.

What exactly was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I can't stomach watching your sister dance with her mate? And even if I could stomach that, Rhys's mental commentary to him about it had turned his stomach. Even when Azriel had kept away from Elain just like Rhysand had ordered him to do, ever since last year. So really...what was he supposed to answer?

“Dancing isn’t exactly my favourite activity,” Azriel finally replied. It wasn’t a lie.

"Yeah, well, mine neither," she answered with a shrug. "Not that I ever learned."

"You never learned?" he asked surprised. Nesta had learned. Elain had learned.

"Bastard, remember?" Zahra said drily. "I am lucky that I got to learn how to read and write and do basic math. I was not going to be molded into a perfect lady, because no self-respecting man would marry me anyway."

The blunt way Zahra was talking stunned Azriel momentarily. There was something harsh, something almost...bitter and resentful in her voice as she spoke.

It seemed like it didn't matter if one was born a bastard in Illyria or the Human lands. It was horrible either way.

"Your sisters will miss you," he said instead quietly. "And you'll miss the spectacle."

"I don't really care for the festivities," she said with another shrug. "I don’t like the holidays. Humans don’t have any. We… they are too busy trying to survive," Zahra corrected herself quietly. "And besides, I am only here anyway so I don't end up being an indentured servant until some of you decide that I am back in your good graces,” she gave back caustically.

He grimaced. That Zahra had vehemently disagreed about their treatment of Nesta was well known.

It had surprised him too because it was just as just as well known that Nesta seemed to not care for her half-sister on a good day. They weren't particularly close, in any way, shape or form.

Something in his chest clenched painfully. Not from the insult she threw in his direction, but from the defeated way she said it. That she thought that they would just…toss her aside like that.

She was one of them.

"We won't," he said firmly. Her eyes slowly turned toward him and there were dark shadows in those eyes. Out of all the Archeron Sisters, she was the only one with green eyes. Azriel wondered if she had inherited them from her late mother.

Zahra was only the half-sister after all. The result of her father’s dalliance with a maid. Her age put her somewhere between Nesta and Elain.

It was easy enough to pick out the differences between Nesta, Elain and Feyre and Zahra. Dark hair similar to Elain’s, but green eyes. Skin a few shades darker than any of theirs. Lips that looked like Feyre’s but a nose that looked like none of her sisters.

Zahra seemed to belong but didn’t.

And right now, these green eyes…something was wrong. Something was off with these eyes.

"You don’t know that," she said with a humourless laugh. "Do you want to lie to me too, and tell me that Rhysand has nothing to do with whatever happened between Elain and you?"

Azriel stiffened, a low sound escaping his throat. She knew. She knew.

"How did you-" he croaked hoarsely and Zahra cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Do you really think that I hadn't noticed the two of you dancing around each other for months? Or the fact that you two can barely manage to be in the same room together?" she asked dryly and Azriel averted his gaze. "There is no one as beautiful and kind as my sister," Zahra said drily. "I don't fault you for falling for her."

Azriel said nothing, the pain in his chest growing at her words. The pain...and the bitter realization that his feelings were not as well-hidden as he had thought they were.

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "She has a mate. She deserves better than me anyway."

"Did Rhysand tell you that too?" Zahra said drily. "You never tried to hide the fact that your mate was dying from the same, so you have that on him."

Azriel gritted his teeth, the pain in his chest becoming almost unbearable. "It doesn’t matter," he repeated firmly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Elain is happy. I would do nothing to put that in danger."

"Yes, she is," Zahra agreed. "For what it's worth, I am sorry," she apologised to him, her voice honest.

Azriel swallowed, the pain in his chest lessening only to be replaced by something else. Something...much more complicated. Something like…pity.

He pitied her. This young female was so full of bitterness. He couldn’t even fault her for it either. She had been just a bastard. Even when they had first met the Archeron Sisters…Zahra had been working in the household as a maid. Half employee, half part of the family. Like their father couldn’t make up his mind what he should do with his bastard daughter.

"You don't have anything to apologise for," Azriel finally told her quietly. "Do you really not want to watch?" he asked her. "You are supposed to wish for something when you see the stars fall."

She snorted, the sound bitter. "What I want, I am never going to get," Zahra said, her voice brittle.

He took her in in more detail at that moment.

The simple green gown she wore, high necked and long sleeved...that long gown that did little to hide how thing she was. The dark brown hair, pulled into a braid, obviously trying to hide the pointed tips of her ears and failing...the way her skin, darker than all of her sisters, was nearly ashen.

They had all thought that she was doing well. That Zahra at least was adjusting well.

But she wasn't. She wasn’t doing better. She hadn't adjusted. Azriel would bet anything that all she wanted in her life was to be human again.

She hadn't adjusted. She just acted in a way that didn't bother anybody, that didn’t spell trouble for anybody. Zahra had gotten herself a job, managing the accounting at an apothecary in the city. She had gotten herself a little cottage to rent. She didn’t go out and get drunk. She didn’t use any money from Rhys or Feyre. She showed up for family dinners, staying quiet and polite.

And if she was miserable…well, then nobody cared, because she didn’t bother anybody. Azriel could understand that. The same was the case for him.

Azriel clenched his jaw, watching her quietly sitting here. The way she was trying to hide away. The dress that was more like a potato sack than anything else. The way her skin was almost...grey. That bitter voice.

The shadows were stirring and he was unable to look away from her. She looks upset, Master, they told him helpfully.

"Do you want to go home?" Azriel offered quietly. Home to her cottage? Maybe some peace and quiet would make her feel better.

Zahra shrugged, not looking at him. Not giving him an inch. That wall of bitterness and sarcasm was so firmly in place, that it was practically a solid wall between them.

“Don’t want to end like an indentured servant, remember?“ she quipped drily.

“You won’t,“ Azriel said evenly. “You had a headache. I brought you home.“

She still didn’t look at him, her hands tightly knotted into her skirts as she sat there. She was so thin, almost fragile-looking. Her skin was sickly grey. “Come on,” he said finally, walking towards her.

Zahra finally looked up at him. Those green eyes. A bitter and lonely light in them. “What are you doing?“ she muttered.

“I’m bringing you home,” he said simply, holding out his hand. “Come on, get up.“

Zahra looked at his hand, her gaze wary. “Why?“ she asked quietly.

“Because you look like you are about to keel over,” he said, more bluntly than intended.

“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly, her voice sarcastic and bitter. But she placed her hand into his own and let him pull her to her feet, even though he could feel the tension in her entire body.

Azriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “Come on. Let’s get you home and into bed,” he said firmly.

He led her towards the balcony, the last few streaks of light painting the sky, and he grasped her tightly as they shout these few feet into the air until he could winnow to the cottage she rented.

It’s ugly, the shadows complained.

He had to agree with them. The cottage was an ugly little thing. Plain. Small. The type of thing that was more of a hovel in the outskirts, rather than anything else.

“Home sweet home,“ Zahra said dryly, pulling away from him and a key out of her purse.

That cottage was in serious need of some renovations when the red paint that was flaking off the door was anything to go by.

As she unlocked the door it became obvious that while she kept it clean and neat.. even that couldn’t help much. This is a hovel, the shadows hissed.

Azriel was inclined to agree. He looked around with a frown, as the shadows scuttered around the tiny cottage. “You live here?“ he couldn’t help but ask. It was a terrible hovel indeed.

Zahra shrugged as if she didn’t notice the disgust in his voice. “I couldn’t exactly afford anything else at first,” she said drily.

At least not without taking any money from Rhys and Feyre, and clearly that was nothing that Zahra wanted to do.

He was struck by how empty it all looked. There was a small kitchen space, a table with a few chairs a fireplace… And the door that led to her bedroom, he assumed.

“How long have you lived here?“ he asked carefully, taking in the bare emptiness. There were no pictures on the walls. No trinkets and little belongings anywhere. It was…lifeless. She shrugged again and kicked off her shoes, making her way towards the bedroom. “A year?“

The room was equally simple and bare. A bed, a few clothes. A little bathing chamber. That was it.

“You’ve lived here for over a year?“ Azriel repeated, his voice turning sharp as he looked at everything. There wasn’t even a mirror on the wall.

When she just shrugged again, he was done. He grabbed her arm and towed her back into the main room. “Stay,” he ordered, pointing at the table and one of the two rickety chairs.

“What are you doing?“ Zahra asked, raising both eyebrows at him. Her irritation had started to rise considerably. At least that had done something to the sickly colour of her skin.

“Making sure you eat something before you pass out on me,” Azriel muttered, turning back into the kitchen area, looking around with a frown.

There was…nothing. His shadows reported as much. She literally had a few pieces of bread and some cheese in the whole house. He was more than fuming. That was not enough that she was living in…this hovel, she was apparently also starving herself.

He pointed at the chair again. “Sit,” he ordered a little sharper than he had intended.

The glare she gave him did not surprise him. Zahra hated being ordered around. “No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not hungry.“

Azriel clenched his jaw, the anger flaring. How stubborn could she be?

“You clearly haven’t eaten in days,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “You have nothing in your house to eat.”

“I have what I need,” she retorted, her own anger flaring. Azriel gritted his teeth, the urge to snap at her almost overwhelming.

“You are skin and bones,” he hissed. “There is barely enough fat on you to keep out the cold.“

“Why do you care?“ she snapped right back.

The question hit him squarely in the chest. Why did he care? Why, he asked himself for a moment. Why indeed.

He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that it was just because she was Feyre’s sister.

Thankfully, Azriel was saved from actually having to answer, when her stomach grumbled.

Loudly. Azriel almost chuckled at the sound of her own stomach betraying just how hungry she really was. “Clearly your body disagrees with you,” he said drily.

“Shut up,” Zahra snapped, her skin flushing at the sound of her own stomach.

“I will shut up after you’ve eaten something,” Azriel said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Zahra gave him a glare that could strip the paint from the walls, (but then, the paint was already flaking off anyway). Still, she grudgingly sank down on the chair, her eyes avoiding his.

He turned back into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and found absolutely nothing. There was nothing. Not even some fruits or vegetables.

He slammed the last cupboard closed, almost causing the hinges to break, the anger flaring hotly in his chest. That stupid, stubborn, stubborn woman.

“I will personally come here every day and stuff you full until you burst,” he snapped before he could stop himself.

“Why?” she asked and he could hear the challenge in her voice. Her own anger rose to meet his own. “Why would you even bother?“

“Because you are starving yourself,” he said, spinning around to face her. “Because you are so thin, I could snap you in half with one hand. Because I’m pretty damn sure you haven’t eaten a proper meal in at least a year. That’s why.“

“Maybe I don’t deserve a proper meal,” she shot back and something inside of him snapped at the tone in her voice.

Because he knew that feeling. He knew. For just a moment he froze. They were far more similar than they should be.

It was a terrible realization. He knew what the self-hatred and bitterness was like. He understood it far better than he wanted to.

“Nobody is going to suddenly show up and care,” he told her quietly. He saw her eyes flare at the words and he knew she got the meaning behind them instantly.

She sat there, her jaw tensed. “And what do you know about it?” she snapped, her voice bitter.

“I know what it feels like to starve oneself,” he said calmly. “I know what it feels like to have not a single person notice or care.“

The words rang truer than they should. Her eyes widened for a moment, shock flashing through her.

“I know what it feels like to be the one be always at the edge of the family. I know what it feels like for everybody around me to meet their mate but not me.“

The words slipped out before he could stop them. The pain he had buried so deep, deep down flaring up. The pain and loneliness and bitter realization that would never have what everyone else had.

He realized only then how much they really had in common. How similar they were.

“I know what it feels like to be the afterthought,” he continued, unable to stop now. “I know how it feels to be shoved aside. I know how it feels to watch everyone around me find someone while I’m the one left behind.“

He took a step closer to where she was sitting, towering over her. “And I know how it feels to hate myself enough to deny myself the basic needs I actually have.“

The last words made her flinch. He was so close he could almost see the pain and guilt and bitter realization flit across her face. Her eyes were on her lap, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the table.

“I know what it feels like to feel as if I don’t deserve to eat,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not good enough. Not worthy enough. Not deserving enough.“

He knelt down in front of her, forcing her to look at him. To meet his eyes.

She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her to see. To understand that she wasn’t as alone as she thought. “I know what it feels like to punish myself by not giving myself what I actually need,” he said quietly.

Her breath hitched at the last words, her eyes widening ever so slightly. She was listening. Really listening to what he said.

“You’re not the only one who hates yourself, you know,” he said quietly. The look in her eyes shattered him. The look of realisation. Of bitter understanding. The realization that they were so much more similar than either of them had thought before.

Zahra bit her lip, the guilt flashing across her face. Her hands started trembling, ever so slightly.

“You don’t deserve to go hungry,” he said quietly, his voice firm and quiet. “You don’t deserve to starve yourself. You don’t deserve to live in this… hovel.

“The cauldron should just have killed me,” Zara said her voice brittle. “I don’t like this life.”

And didn’t that break his fucking heart?

She laughed bitterly, but there was no humour in it. “I’m not even surviving,” she said, a bitter smile on her thin lips. “I’m existing. There is a difference.“

The words hit him hard. She was right. She didn’t survive, she just existed. There was a difference and a huge one at that. “Then stop just existing,” he said quietly.

His hand was still cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over her skin.

“Says the guy that just keeps moping around,” she quipped.

It was a low blow but also true. Azriel’s jaw tensed at the comment. “I don’t mope,” he bit. “I just..“

He didn’t really have a good argument in his defence at the moment.

He sighed. “We should both stop rotting away,” he said drily.

“Yeah, well, that’s easy to you to say,” Zahra said and he could hear the bitterness in her voice.

“Eat your cheese,” he responded.

She rolled her eyes and snatched away the slice of cheese off the table. “Happy now?“ she muttered.

“Delighted,” he gave back drily, as he moved towards her fireplace.

“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra said quietly. “I can do that.”

“Considering you’ve been too starved to think straight, you are going to let me do this,” Azriel cut across her calmly. “You are more than likely to burn yourself.”

“Don’t the flames bother you?” She asked him quietly. He froze.

Nobody else had ever asked him. They had just expected him to be over it by now. He had 500 years to be over it. His hands clenched.

“Yes,” he answered quietly. “They still do.” It was the honest truth. A truth he never told anyone before, least of all someone like her. The shadows curled around his shoulders and arms as if to calm him down. The flames still bothered him. They always would. “But I learnt to deal with it a long time ago,” he continued.

“That’s not fair to you,” Zahra said, her voice quiet. “You are always the one in discomfort. And nobody cares.”

Her words hit him square in the gut. It was true. It was painfully true. He was always the one being uncomfortable. Always the one on edge. It had always been expected of him to be over it by now, the pain and the hurt. The fear and the bitterness.

He finished building the fire. Using a match to light it carefully, then closing the door quickly.

“I can deal with it,” he answered quietly. “You should go to sleep,” he advised her.

“So should you,” Zahra told him just as quietly. “You look terrible.“ He knew he looked like crap. But that didn’t matter.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, brushing off her comment. Even though he knew it was a lie. Even though he knew they were both terrible at taking care of themselves.

“You are a terrible liar,” she quipped. He looked at her and was surprised to see a tiny smile on her face.

“And you’re a very stubborn, very stupid, very annoying woman,” he quipped back just as quietly.

The smile on her face broadened the tiniest bit at the comment. “I could say the same about you,” she shot back.

“Sleep,” he told her again.

And then he left that little cottage to get back to the House of Wind. He didn’t bother winnowing, instead, he shot up into the sky with one flap of his mighty wings. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

His mind was whirling as he flew back to the House of Wind. So much had happened in the last few hours and it was all still a lot to process.

He had always been good at keeping a rein on his thoughts and his emotions. But this time, he simply couldn’t.

Zahra and him, always on the outskirts of their family. Ignored and expected to get on with it.

They were so similar in so many ways. It was shocking to realize just how much they actually had in common.

The loneliness and solitude he had come to live with, she had experienced herself. The pain and the bitterness, he could recognize it on her, for he had felt it himself.

Where are you, Az? Rhys demanded at that moment mentally. Azriel would like to scratch out his eyes, but he didn’t.

I’m flying back to the House, he sent back curtly. Zahra had a headache, so I brought her home.

A headache, Rhys shot back incredulously. Azriel could almost see the look on his High Lord’s face. You really think I will buy that?

I don’t care if you believe me or not, Azriel responded icily, his temper rising already at the tone. It is the truth and I really don’t wish to have a discussion over it.

There was a pause in Rhys’ mind. Then a slight huff. You can be so unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you know that?

Azriel didn’t bother reacting to that.

Elain and Lucien are figuring things out. So keep away from her, Rhys told him sharply.

I am keeping away from her, Azriel shot back, irritation flaring. You really think I will go and ruin this for her?

I don’t know what you are up to, Rhys retorted, and Azriel knew the High Lord was irritated. But I really don’t have the time to deal with your crap right now. That’s an order.

Understood, High Lord, Azriel snarled back and he felt Rhys chuckle in his mind at the tone. I will keep away from your precious Elain, I promise.

Damn right you will, he heard Rhys mutter in his mind and the mental connection between the two of them snapped close.

Azriel snarled in irritation as he landed on his balcony and stalked into his room. It wasn’t enough that he was wrestling with his own emotions, No, he also had Rhys all up his ass about it.

And he was infuriated about the whole thing.

Nobody will suddenly show up and care, he has told Zahra. It was the truth. Nobody would care.

They only cared as long as they got what they wanted from him.

Chip away the pieces they didn’t like. Mould him into a person they could stomach.

Either it was Rhys ordering to keep away from Elain…or ordering him to behave around Mor and Emerie… and to be quite honest…Azriel was done.

It was always him that needed to bend to make everybody else comfortable. Nobody bends for him.

So many years of following orders, of keeping his mouth shut, of bottling up the anger.

Even when everyone around him was getting what they wanted. They got their happily ever after. And he was left behind. Not once did someone ever realize that he was struggling. Not once did someone notice that he needed something…anything. That he was hurting and in pain. Nobody even bothered to check on him, to ask how he was doing.

They all got what they wanted. Mor, Emerie, even Feyre. They all got the mate that they wanted. Rhys, Cassian and even Amren had Varian.

He was the one always helping everyone else. Always the one having to endure everything. Never anything for himself. No love for himself.

Orders, commands, demands…that’s all it ever was. He didn’t get a say in anything. They just expected him to be fine. And if he wasn’t…he had to push through it.

He was the tool that did whatever needed to be done. The spy that got the order to do the dirty work. The shadowsinger that just had to endure everything.

All for scraps of attention.

Azriel was done.

He was so done. With everything. With everyone. With the one-sided affection that he had given in a desperate attempt to feel…something, anything….

He needed to stop expecting to get anything from them.

Zahra did not. She seemed to have given that up a very long time ago

The cold realization that they had been doing the same to her hit him. She was also the tool they used when they needed it. She may not be a spy, but they used her just the same. Expected her to be fine.

She was alone just as much as he was.

Alone and isolated, an afterthought to their family just as much as he was.

***

It was quiet in the little cottage.

Peaceful.

Comfortable.

Sie should be happy. Or at the very least…she should be content, should she not?.

Zahra had a roof over her head. And if she wanted to…she could afford food.

Her job didn’t pay that well, but it wouldn’t leave her starving. She just wasn’t hungry. She seemingly never was.

That was a lie and she knew it. Deep down she was hungry all the time. She just refused to give in to eating. She refused to listen to her body screaming for sustenance. It didn’t matter, anyway. Nobody cared.

She didn’t care.

Something inside her had broken during her bath in that cauldron. Her humanity had burned away and with that…with that everything Zahra had ever wanted.

She didn’t crave anything anymore. Not love. Not affection. Not attention. Not food. It was all gone. All she felt was numb.

Cold, empty and numb. Like her shell had hardened and frozen over.

She had never thought it was possible to feel so damn tired without having done anything.

Zahra forced herself to get up. Forced herself to heat some water on the stove… to make tea. The cheapest tea she had been able to find at the market.

It wasn’t the best. The taste was bitter and the color was more brown than black. But it was tea and she was thirsty enough to drink it.

It wasn’t very warm and left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Like her life itself.

Maybe just dying would have been easier, she reflected bitterly. Was this how eternity would feel? Alone? Tucked away in this cottage?

All her sisters had been given a mating bond. They had been given another person who loved them unconditionally…that was at their side. That wanted them around. That wanted to spent time with them.

And then there was her.

She had been closest to Feyre during the years in that cottage. Nesta gave her the fault for seemingly everything htat had ever gone wrong in her life, though Zahra privately thought that for Nesta, Zahra was just the evidence of another of her father’s failings…Elain…well, Elain was more embarrassed than anything about Zahra’s very existence. But Feyre…well, Feyre hadn’t cared. And so Zahra had tried to dote on her as much as she could.

And then clearly she had been replaced in Feyre’s affections.

She didn’t fault her for that.

Feyre had made her own life. And she had every right to do that. She was busy with her mate and her son and Mor was her best friend and…there was seemingly no place for Zahra there.

Which was fine.

It was.

But if Zahra was completely honest with herself…she was unspeakably jealous of the mating bond of every single one of her sisters.

Of that promise of at least one person that would be on her side, come Hel or High Water.

Clearly, something was wrong with her that she hadn’t been given a Mating Bond.

She wasn’t worth a mate. Clearly, something was broken inside her. Otherwise, the cauldron would have given her a mate, right?

Maybe she was broken so thoroughly that nobody even wanted her.

Why would they? She was a shell of a person, a ghost of the woman she was supposed to be.

She was cold, empty and numb. Everything that nobody could possibly want.

Everyone else got a mate, love and happiness. Not her.

She had nothing.

Her hands clenched around her lukewarm cup of tea.

Some random sparks of light sparked against the mug. A gift from the cauldron. They didn’t seem to do anything but warm whatever they touched. Maybe that was that random power the cauldron had given her. Neither future or death…but…warmth. She supposed it was something.

She wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and she had never bothered telling anybody about it.

Sometimes she allowed herself to play with them when she couldn’t sleep. They were strange and utterly useless.

It wasn’t the power of foresight or the power of a death god…no. She had the stupid power to create sparks. Useless sparks of light.

Oh well.

Complaining about her sparks wasn’t going to help her either.

So she pulled out her work and sat down to do her work as the sun came up and the day went on.

Zahra balanced the account ledgers for one of the apothecaries in Velaris. Which meant she had a whole box of receipts to sort through and put into said ledger.

One receipt at a time, one name after the other.

It kept her busy. It paid well enough. She seemed to have some kind of aptitude for it…maybe the fact that her father was a merchant had come through for once.

She worked until the late evening. Until her eyes couldn’t concentrate on the numbers anymore.Until her back and shoulders ached with pain. She stretched her shoulders back.

She wondered if she should eat something. Her cheese was gone, thanks to Azriel standing over her until she ate it…but she still had one or two slices of bread, didn’t she?

She could go food shopping…buy another bread, another chunk of cheese tomorrow.

Then Zahra heard a knock on the door.

Confusion spread through her. Who would knock on her door at that very late hour? It was after 9 pm already.

She got up, walked towards the door and opened it carefully.

It was the last person she would expected to be standing on the front porch. Azriel.

“I am making you dinner.“

Her eyes widened at that announcement. “You are what?” she asked him dumbly.

He just gave her a deadpan look and pushed past her. “I am cooking dinner because I am assuming that you haven’t eaten yet,” he told her plainly.

It was true. Zahra hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long. But why did he care?? “Why?” she blurted out. “Why do you care if I’ve eaten?”

He gave her a sharp look and pushed her towards the kitchen chair. “Sit down,” he simply ordered and she was too taken aback to protest against it.

He had brought his own ingredients. His own knives, all tucked away in a little basket that he put on her countertop. “Can you peel potatoes?” He asked her as he rummaged through it.

She could just stare at him.

“Who do you think cooked the meat Feyre hunted?” Zahra replied drily.

Azriel froze in the process of digging something out of the basket on the counter. “You can cook?” he asked her and she heard the surprise in his voice.

Zahra let out a snort. “Yes, I can cook,” she retorted. “What did you think I was doing this whole time in the cottage? Twiddling my thumbs?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I had no idea what you were up to,” he told her truthfully. “I thought you were as useless as Elain and Nesta were at that point,” he admitted.

“Nesta did all the cleaning and hacked the wook,” Zara corrected him quietly. “Elain mended. I cooked. Feyre was the only one who hunted. And yes, we should have done more, but I did help run the household. The only one who never helped was our father.” The bitterness bled into her voice at that.

There was a long pause after her admission. Then Azriel exhaled. “I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he muttered. “You don’t strike me as a pampered useless damsel.”

“Thank you for that assessment, Shadowsinger,” she quipped back. “I will make sure to remember it when I need a pick-me-up.”

He put a sack of potatoes in front of her. “I take it I’m peeling potatoes,” Zahra murmured, staring at the sack that was in front of her.

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed in that no-nonsense voice of his. “While I prep the meat. I do hope you like rabbit,” he added drily.

“Oh good,” she muttered, grabbing a knife and started to peel away at the potatoes. “Did you hunt it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice neutral. Zahra bit back a snarky remark and focused on the potatoes.

They worked like that in silence. Him preparing the meat, her peeling the potatoes and the carrots.

It was odd. This whole thing was odd. Sitting and cooking with Azriel. She hadn’t even known he could cook.

And yet…it was comfortable. Like the silence wasn’t awkward and neither of them felt the need to break it. It was a comfortable domestic kind of silence. Like they had done this a thousand times before.

“How are you with spicy food?” Azriel asked her after he had taken the potatoes from her.

Zahra blinked in surprise. “I have a pretty good tolerance, why?” she asked, curious.

“All the food I can cook is Illyrian,” Azriel answered drily. “I learned from Rhys’ mother and later from my own. It’s spicy.”

“I can handle a bit of spice,” she assured him. “It should be fine.” He nodded in response.

The sound of the fire crackling in the stove and him stirring up the meat were the only sounds filling the kitchen as they continued their work.

Zahra honestly had no idea Azriel could cook. He didn’t seem like the type of male who spent time cooped up in the kitchen, making meals. It was a little surprising.

And yet, the scents of spices and rabbit were filling her kitchen right now... It smelled almost heavenly.

She hadn’t smelled something as heavenly in a long time. And her stomach growled in response to the delicious scents of food. Zahra tried to remember when she’d last eaten something actually decent, but she couldn’t think straight. The food was distracting her.

“You look half starved,” Azriel observed in a deadpanned tone and she snapped her head up only to find him looking at her.

His eyes were focused on her, a frown playing on his forehead. “When was the last time you actually ate something properly?” he asked her, his voice firm.

She averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she muttered, looking away from him and to the pot bubbling on the stove. “Maybe a week ago?”

He was silent for a moment. “That long?” he asked her, his voice carefully neutral. She just shrugged in response to keep herself from admitting that she actually couldn’t remember exactly.

He poured hot, thick stew into a bowl for her and then put it in front of her, holding out cutlery for her to take. “Why are you doing this?” Zahra asked him weakly.

“Because I wish somehow had done it for me,” Azriel responded

That simple statement made her blink in surprise. It was not an answer she had been expecting. She bit her lip, not really sure what to say.

And then he simply said. “Eat. You look like you’d blow away at the slightest breeze.”

She should have been angered by that blunt statement, but somehow she wasn’t.

So Zahra ate.

The food tasted incredibly good. She had to admit that the Shadowsinger was talented with cooking. The food was spiced just perfectly, hot and filled with flavour.

Every bite made her realize just how incredibly hungry she was. Her stomach filled slowly and the hunger abated with every spoonful. It was like her insides started to come back to life. The numbness was slowly disappearing, replaced by an odd sort of warmth flowing through her limbs.

"Thank you," she finally said weakly.

Azriel just nodded at her, watching her eat. “Of course,” he murmured and continued with his own food.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #Stars all aligned

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temilyrights · 1 day

Note

"all this to prove a point?" for the writing prompt

emily prentiss x reader

no warnings. no use of y/n or pronouns for reader.

sentence fic prompt

You rub your hands together, trying your best to generate some heat in your body. Emily’s car, while lovely, did not provide the warmth of an suv on a usual stakeout and you were seriously regretting your inability to tell this woman no.

“All this to prove a point?” You mumble, the humour fading from your tone the longer you sit in the cold car, the September air biting away at your fingers and toes.

Emily sits with her camera pointed at Morgan’s apartment, a determined glint in her eye. “Better personal life than me, my ass. He came straight home and hasn’t left the building since!”

You roll your eyes, wishing desperately you were home, “Yeah but he’s also not wasting his evening stalking his friend.”

Emily lowers the camera and turns to face you, brows drawn together. “He can’t make accusations like that and not expect me to find proof.”

“Well maybe if you focused a little bit more on yourself and a little less on him then you wouldn’t need to prove it and you’d have a private life he couldn’t argue with.”

She scoffs, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Always so clueless.

You shake your head, annoyed, embarrassed, and frustrated by the woman in front of you. “I’m right here.”

Emily’s frown only deepens and you blow out a breath, “I invited you out for dinner tonight and instead we’re stalking Morgan and have completely missed our reservations. Every time I try to move us forward you find a way to shut it down.”

“Reservations? I thought you wanted to get take-out and head back to one of ours, like usual.” She says with genuine confusion.

“No, I booked that nice Indian place you like.”

“Oh,” She responds, dropping the camera firmly in her lap.

“Look,” you sigh, “I just need to know, okay? Because maybe I’m just failing to get the hint and you’re really not interested but I thought we were going somewhere. I like you Emily.”

“You like me? Tonight was supposed to be a date and instead I blew you off and made us sit and stake out Morgan.” She says slowly, words strangled.

“Yes.”

“Fucking hell.” She blows out a breath. The car is silent for a moment as she comes to terms with the news and then her gaze focuses back on you. “I’m so sorry. I will make this up to you. I’m taking you for the best date night starting right now.”

Your eyes widen, “Wait so that’s a-?”

She smiles, wide and happy, “Yes, idiot, I like you too. God, why else would I ask you to sit here with me?”

You can’t help but smile too. Head in the clouds as Emily puts the camera away and the keys back in the ignition.

“Ready to go?” She asks, a playful smirk on her lips that your eyes linger on.

“There’s just one thing first.” Because you can’t wait a moment longer. You’ve waited years.

You lean over the centre console, hand cupping her cheek and pulling her towards you to meet you in the middle. Emily’s eyes darken instantly, her gaze dropping to your lips before they fall close and her lips softly meet yours.

Your body hums, alive as your lips move tenderly against hers. A gentle whine escapes your lips and your body heats up as you regretfully pull away.

“Mmmhmm,” Emily hums, lips well kissed and eyes dark. “We can definitely do that again.”

“Food?” You ask, voice strangled. Avoiding the knowing look in her eyes, suddenly shy.

“Oh, babes, I’ve got the perfect place.”

taglist: @ry-kills-jemily @sapphic-stress @xrainydazeteax @mckennamayfairgoode @enduringalexblake @augustvandyne @themoontaxi @prentissology @alexbllake @ssa-sapphic @storiesofsvu

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminal minds #criminal minds drabble #emily prentiss drabble #kt writes #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #requested #five sentence fics #my gif #quickly written not really edited so please excuse any mistakes!#first post in ages wowoow

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merakiui · 2 days

Note

Need to feed the brainworms so,,,

Omega Jade with an omega darling,,, you always feel so safe around him, because as a fellow omega, he knows how awful heats are, and how vulnerable you are during them, right??? You can trust him to keep you safe :))

Ever since you found out he was an omega like you (definitely completely on accident, Jade had conveniently forgotten to take his suppressants and you happened to walk by when he wasn't feeling great), you've been relying on him to help you during your heats, and offer to help him during his.

Of course, it's all platonic! Like that one time he offered to clean up your clothing while you were stuck in bed, too sick to get up and sticky with sweat and other fluids. Or when you bring him some snacks and water to his room, changing sheets and wiping off his face.

Yes, it's only platonic. No pining, no sexual tension or romantic feelings involved. Just two omegas helping each other out during a vulnerable time! Even when Jade's usually soothing scent gets you leaking. Even when his touches get more and more intimate. Even when during your next heat, and the one after that, you find yourself waking up next to him, your mind replaying last night's events.

Maybe he looks a little too satisfied about this turn of events, but then again... Knowing Jade, he'd most likely planned for this to happen.

(except the suppressants part. this lil freak definitely forgets them on purpose just for the thrill of it all)

-🦈

AAAAA 🦈 anon!!!!! Omega Jade........ I missed thinking about him,,, ohhhh, he is just so sneaky!!! ( ｡ •` ⤙´• ｡) you'll have the most desperate, feverish heat sex with him, only to come out of it with the mindset that you're still "just friends." As if his fingers weren't curling inside you, as if he wasn't making you come undone with his tongue, as if he wasn't nipping at your neck, teasing your scent glands!!!!

Imagine if the both of you manage to have your heats at the same time,,, the both of you spend enough time around each other that they just sync up, as if even your own body's biology is telling you to stay with him and let him look after you and vice-versa! And how can you ignore such an obvious sign?

Aaaa and imagine Jade driving off all of the others who might be interested in you, especially alphas!! That way, if or when you do think it wise to find comfort in an alpha's arms, there will be none willing to extend their help, lest it earns them a broken wrist (and more) from a very unhappy Jade. :) besides, what do you need others for when you have him? He knows your body just as well as you know his! The two of you are made for each other.

Even if you try to explore a sea of plentiful fish, he can just reel you back in with that enticing scent of his when he oh-so-conveniently forgets to take his suppressants and wear his scent blockers. <3

#twisted chit chat #🦈 anon #tw: abo #tw: omegaverse #n/sfw

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satancopilotsmytardis · 2 days

Text

(Getting) Better Together

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by an anonymous user. Dabi did not know that he was an omega, and he can’t say that he ever really wanted to find out that he was. He just wanted to join the League of Villains and destroy his father. But when the League’s doctor refused to clear him for active duty, he really thought the next step would be getting kicked out. He didn’t think that he would suddenly have the guy who tried to kill him trying to help him through this entire situation.

Contents: ABO, Alpha!Shigaraki, Omega!Dabi, Recovery from malnutrition/starvation, Mating Cycles, Heat/Ruts, Sex Ed, Discussions of past child and spousal abuse, Infertility, Sex Toys, Porn, Loss of Virginity/First Time, Anal Sex, Grinding, Cumming in Pants, Wet and Messy, Praise Kink, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Knots, Dabi has genital piercings, Shigaraki has a massive cock.

Word Count: 19249

Given that the new boss nearly killed him, Dabi really didn't think that the situation with the League of Villains would have anything over the usual jobs that he's done with other crews of criminals. But the next day, when he and Toga come back in after getting the few things they had kept at the safe house Giran had them held up in, Kurogiri informs them that they'll be living on the floor above the bar with Shigaraki. They each get a private, barely furnished room with a lock on the door, and they'll be able to buy whatever they want to decorate their space with the money that they're going to get for being on retainer, training, and running whatever small jobs the League has for them before they debut. They are also informed that there is a grocery list on the refrigerator and that as they need things, they can add it to that. On Wednesdays and Sundays they'll get a delivery of whatever they're missing. He's also not expecting them to be told that the League has a doctor on-call and that they will need to schedule a check-up with him over the course of the next week to ensure that they're healthy and that they have any medicine that they need as they get started in the organization. That's pretty strange.

But nothing is as strange as the doctor coming back into the examination room he's been sitting in for half an hour, and getting a somewhat bewildered look.

"What's up, doc?" He asks, not appreciating that he's somehow managed to be even more of a freak than he already is.

"I have the results from your test."

"What do I have, like seventy incurable diseases or something?" It would be his luck.

"No," but there is definitely something, given the tone. "You reported being a beta?"

"...yeah?"

"I have to inform you that your designation is actually that of an omega." Ujiko tells him, looking him dead in the eye. Dabi stares back.

"What?"

"It appears that you've had extended periods of malnutrition and are severely underweight for your height. Being in such a state, your body seems to have essentially 'turned off' all of the sex traits of your designation, allowing you to pass for a beta. You'll need to have another examination to determine the health of your reproductive system."

Dabi is so stunned that he doesn't even find the words to protest.

///

It's another hour and a half later when he is finished, feeling a little humiliated after the entire thing, though luckily a different doctor, someone else on AFO's payroll who is actually an expert in Omega anatomy took care of that, and they're in the room with he and Ujiko to determine what he needs to do going forward.

"Mr. Dabi--"

"Just 'Dabi'." He says numbly.

"Dabi," they correct, their voice gentle. "I am very sorry to inform you, but it appears that the damage sustained by your body from your burns as well as the extended period of malnutrition and high-stress has... rendered you infertile."

Oh. That's supposed to be a bad thing. Omegas are supposed to be all about having lots of pups. But Dabi feels some relief sweep through him for the first time since he got the news. "Okay, is that why I've never had a heat?"

"In part, maybe. But that is more likely to be related to the weight and malnutrition. We're going to prescribe some shakes that you can drink to help get your daily nutrients more readily, and we recommend you start eating a diet that is rich in fat and protein." The omega doctor gives him a pamphlet that outlines how he should be structuring his meals to ensure that he's putting on weight and Ujiko goes in for the kill,

"Until you gain ten kilos and have your first heat, I am not marking your chart as 'field ready'."

"What? But I've been fine. I can do my job! Just give me suppressants!"

"Not having your heat for so long is not 'fine'," The other doctor tells him, using that infuriatingly gentle tone again. "Extended stress like this can cause a whole host of severe medical issues that can dramatically shorten your lifespan." Like he doesn't already have a short one of those. "Now that you'll be getting the nutrition your body needs as well as having a safe place to sleep, you're going to start off by feeling much, much worse as your hormones begin to equalize." They keep talking for a while, loading Dabi up with about five more pamphlets for him to read and Dabi wonders if the League was really worth all the trouble it's turning out to be.

///

When he gets back to base that night, he goes straight to his room, and spreads out the pamphlets on his bed, trying to read through them all, but feeling like all of the information is just sort of slipping off of his brain from his shock. It takes until there's a soft knock on his door for him to realize that it must have been hours, that he skipped eating, which he's probably going to be in trouble for if AFO doesn't just decide that he's not worth the trouble of keeping around and throw him to the streets again.

He manages to get up and go to the door.

Shigaraki is standing on the other side, and yeah, it must be late, because he's not even wearing the hands anymore. "Here," Dabi looks down at his hands and finds a small box that claims to have a phone in it. "My number and Kurogiri's is already programed in. If you need a teleport, just text him and he'll open a portal."

"Oh. Thanks."

"...The doctor didn't clear you for missions." It's not a question. But the tone of it rings a bell in the back of Dabi's mind that, for as much as they're villains, means that Ujiko didn't tell Shigaraki why he wouldn't clear Dabi. "If you're using anything harder than weed, you shouldn't be here."

"I'm not on drugs." He says a little numbly. "I'm an omega."

He says the words half because he doesn't know if he believes them. Says them out loud himself and makes them horribly, achingly real.

Shigaraki blinks, and then frowns, his hand moving to scratch at his neck as Dabi just holds onto the phone box like somehow that will help him feel grounded from the mess of his emotions surging through him. "...If you're pregnant then this isn't a good place for you either. We're going to start a war, Dabi. This isn't a place to raise a pup if that's what you want." His voice isn't gentle like the other doctor's was. It's clinical. "If you need treatment as you decide what you want to do, we can provide that, but we won't be able to keep you here if you can't be active. I can speak to Giran, he might be able to take you in as a broker-in-training--"

"I'm not pregnant." Dabi tells him. "I didn't know." It sounds so pathetic when he admits it, and he doesn't know why he does. He tried to kill Shigaraki two days ago. He doesn't even like him.

There's another long pause, and then he hears Shigaraki take a slow breath. "Okay. Do you want me to come in?"

Dabi doesn't know what he wants, but he steps aside. Shigaraki closes the door softly behind him and sits on the crate that is serving as his desk, picking up some of the scattered pamphlets from the bed. Dabi manages to make his legs move so he can sit back down.

Shigaraki starts to read him the pamphlets, pausing to make Dabi repeat back the things he's read so he knows that Dabi is starting to pay attention.

///

He's going to be a mess. Once he comes out of the shock of learning his real designation, Dabi finally has that sink in. He is going to have his hormones flooding him all the time and because it's going to be the first time, it's likely that he's going to have such intense emotions that he's going to cry at the drop of a hat or get particularly vicious out of nowhere. He shouldn't be around any other omegas that he doesn't want to form an intense pack bond with, and he should be very, very careful about what alphas he associates with, because he's probably going to go back and forth from wanting to be mated to his brain turning completely off and able to be commanded without even needing a real order. None of the rest of the League are omegas though, so that's something. But Shigaraki, it turns out, is an alpha, along with Muscular, Magne, and Toga, though she's young enough that his body won't register her as a potential mate.

Shigaraki keeps him away from the other alphas, and offers to have Kurogiri be the one who brings their work back and forth if that will make him more comfortable. But Dabi hasn't told any of the others. As far as they know, his scars are the reason that he's not allowed to do field work right now, and he's been avoiding them, hoping they think he's got an infection or something so that they don't ask what's going on. But Shigaraki is the only other person he's told, and he doesn't know if he'll manage to figure out how the fuck to do this on his own if he has to.

Shigaraki, thankfully, doesn't say anything about that yet. They don't know when his first heat is going to hit, but he doesn't ask, or assume that he's going to be allowed to knot him like a toy-- use him the way that Enji used to use his mother. And Dabi keeps his mouth shut. He goes online and reads forums and websites that are dedicated to helping omegas through their cycles and people are constantly arguing back and forth about if a toy or a person is better to get them through their heats faster, but that's not the first thing he has to deal with.

No, the first hard thing that hits him through this transition is trying to eat.

It's so stupid, he has been half-starved and has eaten spoiled food, or even rotten food when things were really bad, so many times in his life, but having to put on the weight he's being asked to is hard. He is supposed to start his day with a nutrient dense protein shake that has a chalky flavor that is absolutely not 'vanilla' no matter what the bottle says it is, and is so thick and rich with fat it coats his tongue like there's a waxy film on it. He fucking hates it, and it's so much liquid that he feels like he's stuffed to the gills before he even starts the day. After the shake, he usually gets an hour or two of studying villain shit, apparently taking on some of Duster's administration work, of which there's a lot, because he can't go into the field. During this time, he's supposed to have another high protein snack, even though he's already full. Then he gets to go work out. Putting on muscle is a good way to get his body up to weight, and he has always liked training, so that isn't a hardship. It's just that afterwards he has to eat a full lunch that is also high in protein. In the afternoon he is supposed to finish anything that he didn't in the morning and have another snack. He usually finishes around mid-afternoon, and then he waits for dinner, alone in his room, makes himself eat again, and has to have one final snack before he gets to go to bed.

His isolation also means that all of these meals are taken in his bedroom, which now has a proper desk, a mini-fridge, microwave, and a hot plate. He can actually cook rudimentary things if he wants to, and he doesn't even have to wash the dishes, he just puts them in a bin that goes outside of his door so that Kurogiri or someone can take them downstairs to the dishwasher. But he can't bring himself to cook. He can't bring himself to do much of anything but the bare minimum, and that's not good enough. When he goes back to the doctor for another checkup, he's only gained .3 kilos at the end of the week which is lower than the average person who is on a refeeding treatment. At this rate it will take him far too long to get to a healthy weight, well after the League is supposed to debut in its new form. It takes about half an hour of him nearly pleading to get the goalpost moved. Seven kilos and one heat, if he can hit that and comes out of it not half-dead or having lost the weight again during the heat, then he'll be cleared for the summer camp job.

It doesn't feel like a victory though when he goes back to his room and has to sit alone inside of it, staring at the fridge full of food he doesn't want to eat and trying to hold back tears as he feels his body betraying him again.

There's a soft knock against the door and Dabi shuts the fridge and calls, "What, Duster?" Because Shigaraki is the only one who ever comes to see him now. He must want the files that he was reviewing. Potential recruits for the summer camp job, that he's not going to be able to go on unless he gets his shit together. There's a slight pause, but Shig opens the door. He's not expecting him to step inside, flinch, and then close the door swiftly behind him.

"Are you okay?"

He's really not expecting it when just that is enough to push him over the edge and have his seams aching as blood beads up under them. He made himself stop crying years ago. He thought that all of his tears got burned off with most of his skin on the mountain. But Shigaraki asks him one question, and he immediately bursts into the closest thing he has to tears.

"Shit, Dabi--" Shigaraki moves into his space, his hands reaching out towards him, and Dabi can't help it, he flinches back, sparks leaping up to his skin to defend himself. He knows that this is pathetic, that this isn't what Shigaraki thought he was signing up for when he brought him to this place. But he can't help it. That doesn't mean he's going to let the other kill him though. Shigaraki immediately takes a step back, holding up his hands, his smell starting to pulse out through the room. It's gentle and comforting, not at all the acrid angry smell that he'd been when he first tried to kill him, and that scent takes all of the fight back out of him as he sobs harder. "Can I touch you? I promise I'll be careful."

It takes him a second. He’s never wanted anyone in his personal space before, but he feels like he needs Shigaraki right now. He manages to cool his skin down, and lets out such a pitiful sound, a watery whine that he's never heard himself make. And then he gives a tiny nod. Shigaraki moves over to him and chuffs comfortingly, reaching with one hand, a finger curled into his palm, to wipe away the blood from his cheeks, and the other wraps around his shoulders as he pulls him into a hug. He keeps him close and it... feels so good for someone to comfort him. No one has done that since Natsuo, and as much as he loves his brother, even in his memories he wasn't great at it. He was young, they were both young. He shouldn't have put that on him.

It takes an age for him to stop crying, and when he does, Shigaraki just gets him to sit down on his bed, and Duster goes over to the bathroom and wets a washcloth before he joins him and starts to wipe the blood off of his cheeks. He does it so softly, but his seams are aching so badly from the wounds being freshly torn open. He waits until Dabi's face is all clean and he's just letting his shame saturate his body before he speaks again.

"Sorry... hormones, I guess."

"You don't have to apologize, Dabi. When your cycle is under control, you'll be back to normal and driving me absolutely insane again." Shigaraki sounds more patient than Dabi would have ever given him credit for before. "Your room reeked of distress before you started crying, do you want to tell me what's wrong? Did something happen during your check-up?"

"... I'm not gaining weight well enough, and I've already been struggling to eat as much as the doctor is telling me to." He admits softly. "This is a waste of time. I'll get my shit and go--"

"I think that's a bit premature, Dabi." Shigaraki tells him. "It's only been a week. If you're having a hard time with the meals, there are other things that we can try. What don't you like about them so far?"

It takes him a minute, but Dabi makes himself talk, and Shigaraki surprises him again by sitting there the entire time and listening.

///

The next morning Shigaraki comes into his room with his groceries on one arm. He splits Dabi's nutrient shake in half and makes him put half of it in a weird cup that he then puts in the freezer, and only has him drink the other as Shigaraki chops up an onion, a red pepper, chilis, and minces some garlic. He puts one of the pans on the little burner and moves to put the vegetables in, but Dabi steps in, not wanting to be completely babied and also--

"You can't cook them without putting something in the pan, they'll stick!"

"It's a non-stick pan."

"It's a shitty non-stick pan that looks like it's been hacked at with a machete for ten years. If you don't put something into it, they'll stick."

"Fine, you can help." He almost sounds smug when he says it, and Dabi wonders what the play is, other than making his room smell like onions. "Put a couple of spoonfuls of the Greek yogurt into a bowl with the garlic and season it with whatever you like on your eggs."

"What the fuck are you making?" Dabi asks, in utter confusion as Shigaraki opens a can of tomatoes which he hasn't ever used in a breakfast dish before, and once the other vegetables are sweating, pours the tomatoes in as well.

"It's a loose take on shakshuka, I used to have it when my teacher and I were in North Africa." He cooks them for a little while as Dabi goes ahead and adds the garlic to the yogurt and digs out a bottle of hot sauce that he got and puts in a couple of splashes of that along with some salt and pepper. When the liquid in the pan has reduced a lot, Shigaraki adds some seasonings to the pan, and then uses the spoon to make two wells in the vegetables, and cracks in two eggs. He covers the pan and takes out a small thing of pita bread.

In a few minutes, once the eggs have set, he takes that pan off the hot plate and puts it on a trivet, so he can warm the bread in a second one. That doesn't take long, and when it's all finished, they sit with the big pan between them, a plate and bread in front of each of them, and Shigaraki puts the yogurt sauce on top. He uses the pita bread to break the yolk of his egg and scoops up some of the mixture. Dabi hesitates, but he's usually not a picky eater, and he has to eat anyway. So he follows his lead.

It's definitely different from anything he's had before, but it doesn't taste bad, and after how miserable his meals have been for the past few weeks, he isn't about to complain. Not really. He is going to badger Duster though. "Needs salt."

"Add salt then."

"Why did you make me breakfast?"

"I made us breakfast," Shigaraki tells him, "That's high in protein, and hopefully tastes better than your shake?"

"...Yeah?"

"Good. Eat." And that's all he says about it.

Dabi decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth and they eat the shakshuka as Shigaraki changes the discussion to the files he was working on yesterday. That discussion goes on for so long, that he doesn't notice when they finished off the pan, or when the dishes and trash got cleared away into the bin and bag to be removed, but when they're done, Shigaraki is still talking as he gets out three small containers and a few more pouches from the grocery bags.

He only gets derailed momentarily when Shigaraki asks, "Do you like sweet things, savory things, or salty things?"

"What?"

Shigaraki doesn't repeat the question.

"Uh, I don't love sweets." He says after a second.

Shigaraki puts one of the pouches back in the grocery bag and steers their conversation right back to work. He keeps Dabi talking as he finishes with what he's doing, and when they've pretty fully debriefed, he suggests,

"I'm going to go change, and then we can go to the training room together."

Dabi glances at his phone, surprised that it's already after ten. "Oh, okay. Why are you joining me? I promise I'm not about to have another breakdown." He's not sure if that's true. He might. He doesn't know.

"I need to work on rebuilding muscle too," Shigaraki tells him, reaching for the hem of his shirt. He pulls the fabric up and Dabi sees that the other man is nearly as thin as he is, though he doesn't look hollowed in the sick way that Dabi is now seeing in the shape of his body. But the vivid, angry raised circular scars that dot his side speak to exactly why Shigaraki isn't at his physical peak. He knows from the reports that he also got shot in the leg at UA. "I figured that it would be easier if we did it together. Is that alright?"

He doesn't want to be babied. He doesn't need to be. The hardest things he's ever done, he's done alone. He can get through this too. But there is a little voice in the back of his head that says he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to be alone again.

"Okay."

Shigaraki smiles at him, and it's a very tentative thing. It almost looks like it hurts, like he hasn't smiled for any reason in a long, long time, and his face kind of forgot how to do it. Dabi isn't sure he remembers either.

An hour later when they're both catching their breath between sets, Shigaraki pulls the three little containers out of his bag and offers him his choice. One has cheese, nuts, jerky, and a few grapes in it, another has a homemade trail mix with a few different kinds of nuts, some pretzels, and dried fruit, and the last has some slices of celery, a little portable cup of peanut butter, and some raisins. Dabi picks the trail mix, and Shigaraki eats the celery, before they get back to work.

When they go back to base, Shig lists out a few options for lunch and lets Dabi pick one, and they cook it together. He hasn't cooked with someone else since he was a child, and he feels small again cooking next to Shigaraki. But it's different than it was when he was young. He was... always anxious when he cooked back then, always waiting to ruin something and prove to Enji that he was right to cast him aside. With Shigaraki he doesn't have to worry about that, because Duster clearly does not know his way around a kitchen and breakfast was a fluke. But they make lunch. And they make another snack to have between that and dinner, and when dinner rolls around, they have that too. Before Duster leaves for the night, he has Dabi take the shake out of the tiny shitty freezer and Shigaraki makes him shake the cup for a minute, and he hears the stuff inside get thicker and thicker. When he opens it, Duster offers him some different ice cream toppings, from toasted peanuts to strawberry sauce. Dabi doesn't like sweets, but he puts the chocolate sauce and some peanuts on top and eats the second half of the shake like it's ice cream. It's still not great, but it is miles better than it was all the past week, and Dabi tries to remember how to smile too as he thanks him.

///

The rest of the week follows this trend. The day after the first, he and Shigaraki sit down and they plan their meals and snacks for the rest of the week, sending whoever goes out to do the grocery shopping to do that, and then Duster kicks out all of the others so that Dabi can go down to the kitchen. He didn't realize how skittish he would be, but yeah, the thought of being open and exposed is making him want to ignite or pull his skin off. They cook and meal prep for the rest of the week, but by the time they're done, Dabi is letting out the most pathetic sounds that he's never heard from himself before, and he's shaking like a leaf. Shigaraki chuffs at him again and leaves everything downstairs a mess as he ushers him back up to his room, but even that doesn't feel safe anymore.

Shig makes him sit on the edge of his bed and pulls out his phone. A second later he goes to the door and pulls a shipping box through it that's nearly as tall as Toga. Dabi doesn't have his head on straight enough to even manage to ask what the fuck that is, and he doesn't end up needing too as Shigaraki drags it over.

"Okay, here. Why don't you make a nest, Dabi?"

Dabi knows that nesting is a thing that omegas are supposed to do on their heats, and when they're still sharing a bed with their pups. It's supposed to be a comfortable, secure place that helps make them feel safe. It's supposed to be instinctive, but as Shigaraki starts to take out the piles of pillows, blankets, and sheets, he feels lost. Shig waits for him to move and Dabi hunches in on himself,

"I... don't know how." It's supposed to be easy, isn't it? But looking at all of this shit, he can't imagine how he's supposed to make the pile of it more comfortable than just curling up on his little bed and pulling a blanket over his head.

Shigaraki pauses. "Okay. Neither do I." Dabi wonders how he can keep being made to feel even more inadequate than he was before. "But I've made a blanket fort before. Do you want to try that instead?"

"...Okay."

He and Shig move the two chairs that they've been using to work in front of the bed, about a meter from the edge of it and apart from each other. Then Shig looks around until he finds one of the specific packages and has Dabi tear it open and spread it out in the square of space that they've made for themselves. It's a pad of some sort that has been vacuum sealed and compressed in on itself, and when they leave it alone on the floor, it starts to re-inflate, and fill out the space. Shigaraki has him opening the other blankets while he gets the thin into a mattress cover that crinkles, the label from that proclaiming it will fit most nest pads and that it's waterproof so that, Dabi blushes, slick won't leak through and ruin it. They start to put down pillows and blankets together, and there are so many of them. Some say they're very soft, some say they retain smells better than others, some say they're waterproof, and a million other things that Dabi didn't know that omegas would want, or not want in their nests-- and it occurs to him then, that maybe Shigaraki doesn't know either. Maybe he just bought a little of everything hoping that one of them would work for Dabi.

It takes them about half an hour to get all the blankets and pillows settled inside, the nest nearly twice the size as his bed, and at the end, they use the backs of the chairs as posts, holding up two sheets that they secure together with clothes pins over their head that they stretch in a canopy over the nest by tucking one side under the edge of his mattress and draping the rest. It casts the underside in shadow and Shig holds open one of the flaps of the fort. Dabi hesitates, but crawls inside, and watches the flap close. He listens to the other moving around the room for a few minutes and feels... so small as Shigaraki cleans up the mess from all of the packaging. He feels small, but... not bad as he stays in the fort, feeling the heat of his body seeping into the air around him. It's going to get very hot in here if he leaves it like this.

Dabi kneels and reaches for the joint in the sheets, and he unclips a few of the clothes pins in the middle of the sheets, using them to open up a vent that also serves as a skylight, letting in a little more light and allowing the heat to vent a bit more. Then he's left sitting alone and the doubt starts to creep in again.

"Can you either come in or get out? I feel like a dumbass sitting in a pile of blankets with you just staring at it."

"Who said I was staring at you?"

"Are you?"

"...Are you sure you want me to come in?"

Dabi pulls one of the pillows close, making himself as small as he feels. "...Yeah. Not going to jump on your knot. I'm not in heat yet, Duster."

Shigaraki moves around the room again for a second, and then he hears him kneel down. He opens one side of the sheet and hesitates another second before he climbs in with him. They move around a bit, getting to a point where they're both comfortable and Shig gives him his afternoon snack. Dabi isn't expecting for that to make a warm contentedness roll through him and banish away the stress that had come from being downstairs so thoroughly, but as soon as he has his trail mix with three jerky strips, he starts to... purr.

He's never heard that sound out of his throat. He's never even heard an omega do it in person. His mother certainly wasn't purring at all in his memories. But he starts to make that sound. It's awful. It's rough and stuttery, like his body is trying to shake off a decade worth of rust to figure out how the fuck he's supposed to show that he's... happy. He doesn't know if he's been happy since he was five. Shigaraki lets the sound ride, just sitting with him, taking out his phone as Dabi eats his snack and clicking away on some mobile game.

They stay in the nest for the rest of the day. And when Shigaraki leaves for the night and Dabi has to contemplate taking down the sheet so he can get into his bed, he can't bring himself to do it, instead climbing right back into the secure pile of pillows. It's only when the other man is gone, that Dabi realizes the alpha left his scent all in his blankets. That even though Dabi's natural scent is all but gone because of his burns, that Shigaraki's has layered through the space. It's soft and warm, telling Dabi that he was content in this space too... that the alpha was pleased with what they put together, which makes him purr again. And beyond the emotion the can place in the scent, his nest just smells good with Shigaraki's smell like chai tea and the breeze on a stormy day. He didn't used to like the rain. It could fuck with his quirk, it made finding places to sleep absolutely miserable, and it invited sickness into his body.

But it's hard to think of a time he's ever felt safer or more cozy as he curls up with Shigaraki's smell in his nose.

///

Shigaraki makes the doctor move back his appointment for the end of the month, and when he goes back, he's up by two-point-three kilos. He looks like it too, able to see the way his stomach isn't so flat that it's practically concave, and his face doesn't look so sallow anymore, his cheeks rounding out a little again and making him... look a little more like his mom. Fluid retention, the doctor tells him, since he's also been exercising and trying to gain muscle and not just fat, he might lose the water weight again and start to see that weight increase much more gradually. He stops having to drink the nutrient shakes now that his diet is more balanced, as long as he replaces the calories that he loses if he removes that from his diet.

He gets back to base and finds that Shig is restocking his fridge with snacks and bursts into tears again because of his stupid hormones, and from the relief. This is all even more ridiculous given that as soon as he is allowed into the field, he'll be racing towards the confrontation with his father and his inevitable end. But he's realizing now that if he hadn't ended up here, if Shigaraki had kicked him out the second that he found out he was too weak to be useful right now, he probably wouldn't have ever even made it to standing in front of his father, let alone able to fight him. Duster takes his outburst this time with more grace, immediately chuffing at him and pulling him close. He holds onto him for a few minutes as Dabi ruins his shirt, and then he makes Dabi sit so he can lose his jacket and shoes, before he ushers him into their nest. He climbs in too, bringing Dabi's water bottle, and letting him get the stupid amount of bloody tears out of his system.

In about half an hour, once Dabi has stopped crying and he's gotten most of the gross blood off of his face, he manages, with a fair amount of embarrassment, "I'm on track for weight gain again."

But Shigaraki doesn't mock him for having a meltdown over good news. He just smiles, and it looks better than it did at the start of the month because he's been doing it a lot more. "Good. As long as you have your heat, no matter what the doctor says, I'll let you come on the training camp mission if you feel up to it."

Dabi blinks, "What?"

"You're underweight, and you need to keep getting better, but if you want to debut with the others, I'll let you. My leg is still recovering. I won't be able to run when we need to, so my teacher has decided that I have to stay here and monitor your progress over coms. Someone will need to stay out of combat and coordinate movements. You can make sure that no one can get near you, and I can have a nomu keep an eye as well. As long as you don't overdo it, as long as you think that you'll be ready for that, I'll let you go."

He is very, very lucky that he doesn't start crying again. "Thanks, Duster."

"Just keep this up. Go wash your face, I'll get lunch."

Dabi does as he's told, and they resume their schedule for the rest of the day. When they're finished much later with all of their work and have eaten their meals for the day, they tend to stay in the nest for another hour or two, Shig playing his game and Dabi reads, sometimes. Sometimes he just listens to Shigaraki's soft breathing, and soaks in his scent.

He's sleepy and content when he mumbles, "You're a much better alpha than I thought you were when we met."

He's not expecting the long stretch of silence that comes after those words and he wants to take them back. He didn't mean for them to be an insult, but they definitely sound like one in hindsight.

"I don't think I was a very good one when we met." Shigaraki tells him. "My teacher doesn't have a designation because of his quirk. Neither does Kurogiri. I wasn't allowed to socialize with many other people. I don't think I knew how to act before then. But... being around you is helping." He says it like a confession, turning to look at him finally. "I know that you're still the same rude asshole that I hired-- against my will--" Dabi appreciates the jab. It makes the rest of his words feel like they aren't scraping his skin raw. "But beyond that, you're someone I am responsible for. Someone I need to look out for and make sure that you're taken care of. I'm starting to feel the same way about the others. Starting to think about what it would be like to not be alone-- to... have a pack."

Dabi doesn't want to start crying again, so he tries sarcasm to push through the lump in his throat. "If you give me a nomu, I'll tell everyone that you're a perfect alpha."

Shig laughs, a short, soft thing that makes his insides feel warmer. "And what do I have to do to make that something other than lip service?"

"Be perfect."

"I'll do my best."

Dabi isn't sure which one of them moves first, which is probably strange because they move so slowly. But neither of them stop until their lips are pressed together. Dabi doesn't start to panic until the second after they're kissing, as he feels the cracked texture of Shigaraki's lips against his and he has to immediately wonder what his scars feel like under his skin, if this was stupid, if he should pull away quickly and make an excuse about his hormones acting up to get the other to leave him alone and not bring up this again. Then Shigaraki wraps a hand around the back of his neck and tilts his head to the side slightly, changing the angle and making it feel like their mouths were made to press together like this. Dabi's breath is caught in the back of his throat as he realizes that this is the first kiss he's ever had. He's pretty sure he shouldn't be kissing his boss who also tried to kill him once, but it's hard to focus on that when the movement of their lips makes his skin tingle softly.

When they part, Dabi hopes the ache across his seams is still just from him bawling like a baby earlier, and that he's not turning red. But it gets a little more intense when he sees Shigaraki's eyes searching his face, a heaviness there that makes that tingling in him feel even more intense.

He doesn't think he means to say, "Spend my heat with me?" As the first thing out of his mouth when he finds his voice. He doesn't know if it's really a good idea to go from his first kiss to asking for Shigaraki to be his first time when he's going to be out of his mind from his hormones. But Shigaraki doesn't balk at the suggestion, doesn't immediately shoot him down and makes his embarrassment any worse.

"I'll stay with you and help you prepare. Ask me again when it's closer. After you've had a little more time to think about it, okay?" He pairs the words with pulling Dabi close again, his lips falling against the crown of his head this time instead of his own, and Dabi feels so warm, the words not stinging like rejection.

"Okay." His hands curl into fists against the blankets so he resists the urge to tangle his fingers into his shirt and press his nose against his neck so he can drink in the warmth of his smell. Shigaraki stays with him for another hour, and that's enough for now.

///

They don't touch like that again, but Shigaraki does make him sit down with his laptop no matter how loudly Dabi protests as humiliation roars through him, and makes him actually look at heat supplies. Those range from more waterproof blankets and special smoothies like his nutrient ones to make sure that he stays hydrated and keeping his weight where it's supposed to be while he's on his heat, to toys.

"I am not buying a dildo."

"Technically the League of Villains is buying you a dildo." Shigaraki says without blinking. "And you're going to want it if you decide you want to spend your heat alone. Having a knot is going to be the only relief you'll get from everything, trust me. I had to spend a few of my ruts without anything to help and I was miserable and about two seconds away from decaying my own dick." He pauses, "You might also want to get some quirk canceling cuffs if your quirk is going to be so high. I don't want you to set your nest on fire." He just goes on like this is a perfectly normal, and not entirely humiliating thing to be talking about, "The doctor mentioned you might have cramping, didn't he? We should get you a heating pad too."

Dabi throws up his hands and slinks down into the nest. "Fuck it. If you're not going to listen to me, then you can buy the heat supplies! You know more about it than I do!" He grabs one of the blankets, pretends it's not deliberately the one that Shig was laying on last night and burrows underneath it.

"You're acting like a child."

Dabi blows a raspberry at him to prove his point, flicking him off as he does. But Shigaraki closes the laptop and shifts their conversation to the much more comfortable topic of work, and he hopes that means this discussion is over.

///

It's two days later, very deliberately when Shigaraki has his own appointment with the doctor, that Dabi hears the thump of a package being delivered outside of his door. He hesitates before he climbs out of his nest, feeling like even just the distance between his nest and the door is too exposed. Still. It might be groceries, so he has to get out of the nest and he makes himself go over to it, poking his head out and seeing a large box. He pulls it into his room and closes the door swiftly, finding a knife to cut open the tape. He chitters happily when he pulls out another new blanket for his nest, but removing that lets him see some of the other boxes beneath it. On top is a heating pad in a long flat box and beside that is another that happily proclaims that it is an eight inch dildo with an insertable knot in 'glacier blue' that comes with an attachable suction cup or pillow strap base. 100% silicone and body safe.

Dabi lets out a humiliated keen.

///

It takes him about an hour, but he eventually forces himself to take everything out of the box and sees that Shig did get him plenty of the heat smoothies that he loads into the fridge until they're needed, along with some quirk suppression cuffs, and special cleaner for the dildo to get it sanitized and ready for use. He really doesn't want to use that, doesn't want to take the dildo out of the box, but he's so morbidly curious about what a knot even looks like, given he hasn't ever even seen one before, that he can't help opening up the packaging. The garish box makes way for bubble plastic and a silky black bag to put the toy inside after use, and an entire booklet of warning and safety tips. He is genuinely worried he's going to need those quirk cuffs if he keeps getting any more overheated from his embarrassment, but he proceeds anyway and opens up the second layer of packaging and gets his eyes on the toy.

Eight inches is a lot bigger than he thought it was. Dabi lets out another miserable keen. The dildo looks very realistic-- other than the fact it is the neon blue of the packaging, of his quirk, but the head looks like a real cock, and the shaft is detailed with thick winding veins that go down to the last three inches of the toy and then abruptly swells with two bulbous shapes on either side, changing the shape drastically from his own cock and making him a little dizzy. How the fuck is he supposed to get this inside of him? Dabi would have a better chance of shoving an orange up his ass. He is still staring at the thing, completely intimidated, before he hears Duster's soft knock before he lets himself in, the same way he has been for weeks now.

Dabi looks up at him, not knowing at all what his expression might be saying, but at least Shigaraki immediately loses any words as well as he sees the neon toy in his hand as the door shuts softly behind him.

"You're a fucking pervert!" He throws the dildo at the other and then darts down into his nest, grabbing one of the pillows that is saturated with Shigaraki's scent and pulling it close to his chest, like that can comfort him. Duster's smell is comforting, even if he has half a mind to kill him for this humiliation. He doesn't hear the thunk of the toy hitting the other or the floor which means that it's probably dust now if he caught it, and Dabi doesn't know if he's glad to be rid of it, or if he really shouldn't have done that. Shigaraki is trying to help take care of him. He's not supposed to be an ungrateful brat about that.

But Duster moves towards his nest and he sees his shadow as it falls across the front flap of the entryway. "Why are you upset, firefly?" Shig's voice is gentle and patient and the pet name makes Dabi's cheeks feel even warmer.

"I don't want heat toys."

"Can you explain why not?"

It's so hard to try and think straight through the high whine of panic that feels like it's going through his head, but after a minute Dabi forces himself to start talking.

"I don't want to have to use those. I don't want to be helpless for a week, in pain, and vulnerable. I don't want to be out of control again. I-- I don't want to get pregnant, I don't want to be claimed, I don't want someone to hurt me like-- like my mom." He can taste smoke on the back of his tongue, hates how weak he already sounds, "I don't want to be an omega."

Shigaraki is quiet for a long moment as he processes Dabi's latest fucking breakdown, but when he does start to speak, he lets out a soft sigh first. "Dabi, you know that you can't change that."

"Fuck you." He also knows he's being over-emotional, but he doesn't actually want to hear that right now.

"You can't, firefly. This is something you're going to have to deal with for the rest of your life. But you won't be in pain forever," he keeps his tone low, though that doesn't impart as much gentleness as Dabi might have expected. "It will only be as your glands wake up for the first time. You won't be helpless. The cuffs I got you can be taken off whenever you want to, and they can't be locked. If anyone tries to hurt you, no matter how deeply you're in your heat, you'll be able to set them on fire, Dabi. Your heat is going to make you extremely, extremely horny, but it's not like what people say about being 'out of control'." Shig promises. "You won't completely forget where you are or get so mentally fatigued you lose your sense of self-- not unless you're completely dehydrated, and that's not going to happen because you're going to have your full fridge of smoothies to drink while you're in heat. The doctor told you that you can't get pregnant, and if you're still scared about it, a silicone toy won't be able to do that for you anyway, Dabi."

There's a small pause and then he goes on, "I don't know what happened with your mother," and if there is a verbal signpost for 'and I don't want to touch that with a ten foot pole', Shigaraki is waving it, "But as long as you're here, you are not going to be claimed by anyone unless you change your mind and decide you want that. You're going to have your heat in here, in your nice, safe room, with the locks on your door, and everything you need so that you don't have to worry about anything but making yourself feel good. By the time you're finished, you're going to feel so good, and I'm going to let you use Kurogiri as your personal errand boy and let you send him off to get you anything you want as you recover. You won't have to see anyone until you're ready to be a pain in everyone else's ass again-- and especially mine."

Dabi doesn't say anything for a long moment after he stops speaking, but when he does, he's still got his face half-buried in the pillow. "You're a bastard."

"Why?"

"You just called me irrational for like five minutes straight instead of being even vaguely sympathetic, and you completely shot me down while doing it like I wouldn't notice."

Shigaraki snorts and seems to think his petulance means that he's not likely to get kicked out again, and he pulls half of the sheet aside so that he can start to crawl into the nest to join him. "I can be sympathetic if you want me to be, but you know you're being irrational." Dabi's face goes hot again when he sees that Shig is holding the dildo. "I wasn't shooting you down, firefly. I'll stay and help if you want me to, but I want you to have explored all of your options first. I don't want you to ask me and regret it." He didn't dust it by accident, and as he crawls up to him, Dabi hides his face in the pillow to block him and it from his sight.

"And you bought me a dildo that I won't ever be able to use!" He hears the toy thump into the blankets and Shig chuckles softly before he's carefully catching Dabi's wrists. He pulls a bit, but Dabi holds the pillow tighter. He'll smother himself with it if it means that he won't have to look at him right now.

When he won't let up with the pillow, Shig gives up on it, and just presses a kiss to the top of his head instead. "Why not, Dabi? Even if we do spend your heat together, if my rut doesn't trigger during it, you'll still need something inside when I can't give it to you."

Dabi didn't really think of that, but he isn't about to say that. Besides, it doesn't address his biggest gripe about the toy, namely, "It's huge! Knot aside, eight inches of anything is not going inside of me!"

He's not expecting for his outburst to be met with a sudden shift in Shigaraki's scent. Something that he's never smelled off of the other man before and that surprises him so much that he immediately forgets his stubbornness and looks up to see Shigaraki's face. His eyes are a little wide, his mouth parted in slight surprise, and embarrassment is spilling from his pores.

Dabi's brain comes to a screeching stop and neither of them say anything for a handful of agonizing seconds.

"Wh-- D-Did you get that because--?" Dabi's eyes flick down, but at this angle, he can't really get his eyes on Duster's crotch. "No. No. You wear skinny jeans all the time. You couldn't possibly--"

"I thought," And Duster's voice is a little higher, a little more breathless, "that would be a good warm-up. But we can get you something smaller if you'd prefer."

"'Warm-up'?!"

///

It is devastating in such a particular way to learn that Shigaraki apparently has a monster cock that Dabi is going to have such a hard time of dealing with that the other man thought he would need something to practice on even when his body was going to be absolutely gushing for it, but they don't actually linger on it for too much longer that night. They eat, and they talk about other distracting things, and pretend that they aren't both embarrassed about the way they are fumbling towards... sleeping together.

But Shigaraki has decided that embarrassment is the enemy by the next night, rather than the natural next step in this whole situation, and comes to Dabi's room with determination, a bottle of whiskey and a six pack of soju, and his laptop, not even blinking when he asks, "How much sex ed have you had?"

Dabi almost immediately overheats from the instantaneous spike of adrenaline.

Shig won't be dissuaded though, and once they've had dinner and are settled into their nest, he queues up the first video that he's downloaded for them to watch.

Dabi isn't expecting the video to be almost presented like a nature documentary, though it's all animations with a soothing female voice narrating. It starts at the very beginning, stating that all humans start as betas in the womb, but that just like their primary sexes, another set of genes gets activated resulting in alphas and omegas, and if those genes aren't activated, then betas are born. Alphas and omegas are both recessive traits that have a complex presentation that crosses over a couple of different gene markers like eye color and hair do, which can result in them being much less common than betas, who don't have any of those genes to turn on or off. That's also why it's so rare for alphas and omegas to be born from two betas having pups unless they have an alpha or omega ancestor.

The video goes on from there, describing that the early markers for their designations are in their DNA from early in their development, but that they can't be judged by anything but medical testing from when they're born until they hit puberty, despite common superstitions. During puberty, the genes turn on again as the pituitary gland activates the pup's primary puberty. When that activates for male alphas, it means they develop their ability to knot, while female alphas will find what appeared to be their clitorus lengthening, which is actually their penis pushing out of their body. Their testes stay internal, which can make it harder for them to produce healthy sperm, but they also should, unless there's a medical problem, have a working uterus as well which allows them two avenues for their fertility. That's interesting, if nothing else, but when the section about omegas starts to play, he does his best to not sit up straighter as he listens.

Female omegas have larger glands along their vagina than a beta or alpha female that help them with the extreme production of slick, as well as a secondary set of muscles inside of their vaginal opening that allow them to 'lock' a knot inside, helping to ensure a higher chance of impregnation within a single mating session. Male omegas don't have a typical vaginal structure, they have something like a cloaca, with the slick glands in their anus along with the additional muscles for locking in a knot. But when those glands start to swell to produce slick, some weird skin flap that the video compares to the thing that closes the esophagus and trachea when eating, closes off the actual rectum, ensuring waste can't be pushed into their vaginal canal when they're being mated.

The video goes on from there, explaining how when an alpha goes into rut, they will grow more sensitive to smells, more restless, and more aggressive with other alphas, or anyone who seems like a threat to the idea of them getting a mate. Omegas, on the other hand, start to have anxiety about their environment, and will instinctively seek out comfort, food, and the companionship of those they trust, to help take care of them when they're in their heat. It's apparently not uncommon for omegas to gather for their heats at times, creating a large group nest if they don't have mates to take care of them, and then spending their cycles together, taking care of one another, male omegas even producing sterile heat fluid instead of semen. A good heat, one where the omega has the supplies they need, if they've been eating, staying healthy, and feel safe, won't be the agony that Dabi has thought of it all of his life. His mom wasn't safe at all, she definitely wasn't healthy when she was so stressed out of her mind he remembers her leaving frost on everything that she touched. She had a bad mate. Her heats saturated their house with the scent of her pain and misery-- though that was under Enji's possessiveness and determination.

The video finishes, and Shig finally cracks open the bottle of whisky, having refused to let him start drinking until he watched the video.

"Questions?" He asks, seeming to still refuse to be bothered as Dabi happily takes the drink and doesn't bother to sip at it and enjoy the flavor, just wanting the burn of something that isn't his blush.

But he doesn't get a refill until he's managed to mumble, "Not really about the... biological stuff. That was... pretty thorough."

"So what about the non-biological stuff?"

Dabi is definitely blushing hot enough that it's probably visible even through his scars. "I don't know. I guess what it's actually like?" When it's not awful, "What's your rut like? Have you been with an omega on it before?" He wouldn't have had the balls to ask that a month ago, but Shigaraki is the one insisting they do this whole song and dance instead of just letting Dabi get overwhelmed when his heat triggers and go from there.

"I am territorial, I get more irritable, the itching under my skin gets," he winces slightly, "really bad until my cycle actually starts. The first few times, I didn't have anyone around, and I didn't have any toys, and I felt like I was going to stroke myself raw. Later on I got a couple of things that made it easier for me to deal with in the periods of time when I wasn't consumed with my lust." He hesitates for a second, "I have had two of my ruts with an omega."

Dabi waits, but more details don't seem to be forthcoming. "C'mon, Duster, you can't leave me hanging. Was omega pussy not all that it was chalked up to be?" Maybe that's why he's being so dodgy about this. Maybe he doesn't want to spend Dabi's heat with him. Maybe he doesn't... want him.

"She was fine. During our cycles, I would say she was exactly what I needed, but I didn't know her very well, and I was glad to be rid of her when our cycles were over. I only shared my cycle with her because I needed to lower the scent of my hormones so that I would be able to make my debut at UA and have the scent patches actually work."

"Oh." Dabi hasn't ever heard of an alpha or beta using scent patches. Normally omega use those so that they can pass as betas, because omegas are still often thought of as nothing more than baby making devices. With the patches, they can pass as betas. "Okay, sorry for pushing, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"It's fine, Dabi. It's just not something I can give you a lot of details about. Sex, especially on my cycle, is good. I enjoyed it, she seemed to as well, but it really wasn't that different from sex in general, it was just a lot more frequent and longer than usual. Whatever you're used to, it will be like that, just heightened." He hesitates, "You were upset about the dildo," Dabi blushes and pours himself a new glass. "Have you... never tried anal before?"

Dabi is glad he's pouring because it means that he doesn't have to look up when he admits, "Never tried... anything before, Duster. Think my hormones were too fucked up to let me have a sex drive." He's sure he's going to burn his ears the rest of the way off from how hot they are, "Never even touched myself before."

He doesn't know if he was really expecting mockery. Shig has been really, really good about not mocking him about any of his inexperience and not asking about why he's so fucked up. But he doesn’t think he was expecting the other's natural spicy scent to go so much hotter and roll out through the air in their nest and send a different kind of warmth under his skin. Dabi nearly fumbles the bottle as he looks up and finds red eyes boring into him.

It takes him a second to find his tongue and croak out, "Oh my fucking god, you are such a pervert."

Shig has the good grace to look a little chastised, trying to reign in the way Dabi's admission spiked his arousal so completely. "It's just... very flattering that you would ask me to be your first."

"Yeah, super flattering, so flattering that you finally smell excited about getting to stick your enormous dick in my ass. I can't believe that you have a virginity fetish. You're a weird reclusive gamer. You're supposed to be the virgin!" Dabi huffs.

"Is that so?" Duster doesn't bother to keep the amusement out of his voice.

"Yes." He refuses to look at him, actually taking his second drink a bit more slowly, trying to pretend he doesn't feel a little dizzy from how good he smelled when he was getting hot, and like that smell isn't sitting in their nest all around them. He doesn't want to embarrass himself anymore.

"Are you just going to pout for the rest of the night, firefly?"

Dabi doesn't answer, obstinance the only path forward for his dignity.

"...Do you want to watch some other... unconventionally educational videos about shared cycles?"

"What the fuck does 'unconventionally educational' mean, Shigaraki?" Dabi asks. The other doesn't offer up an answer immediately and Dabi puts the pieces together, "Porn?! Are you asking me if I want to watch porn with you?"

"You asked me to spend your first heat with you and what it would be like. I'm not saying that all porn is realistic, but porn with actual actors on their cycles is much more realistic than anything else. Because instincts are so high, they can't have a crew on set, they just hunker down, turn on the lights and cameras, and do their thing for their cycles, and then it gets cut down to the hottest parts in the editing room. But that might help you get a better idea of what it looks like from an omega's perspective when it happens."

"You just have an answer for fucking everything, don't you?"

"If I didn't try, you wouldn't want to follow me , would you?"

Dabi wants to light him on fire. But that would mean burning up their nest that is so cozy and smells so good with the lingering threads of Shigaraki's arousal in it. So Dabi drinks his second glass, and then curls up more snuggly in the pillows and blankets. "Fine."

He barely keeps himself from giving Shigaraki so much shit when he doesn't have to go searching up this kind of content, instead just navigating over to his saved files.

///

They watch three videos. The first is with a male alpha and female omega, the second with a female alpha and male omega, and the last with a male alpha and male omega. Each of the videos has a different porn premise attached to it that Dabi is extremely embarrassed over, the first being a repair person who wanders into the house because the omega hit her cycle too fast to cancel, and she all but throws herself at him. She seems to have a very, very good time though. The second is a femdom playing with her sub, with leather, latex, whips, and chains all in play in addition to their cycles. And the final one is about an omega who has gotten in too deep with his loan shark and is offering up his cycle in exchange for a clean slate. Dabi learns two things from these videos: One, Shigaraki is absolutely a massive kinky pervert whose brain is totally rotted from porn because he doesn't even smell hot while they're watching these together. And two, that... it will be different than he thought it would be. Because the actors remember that they're actors even when they're in their cycles. Their movements get a little sloppy, the cameras having a hard time finding good angles sometimes because they forget that they don't have a crew or director to move the cameras, but they never forget the scenario when they're spouting off their dirty talk.

Seeing that he won't be completely gone or catatonic the way his mother had always seemed before she went into rut and after she came out of it, means that watching all of these was worth it in the end. It's a relief that he doesn't really even have words for when they finish. He'll still be him in his heat. Duster will still be himself if he goes on his rut too. They're still not finished with the last video, but Dabi uncurls himself from the nest and reaches for Tomura's sleeve.

Shig blinks, turning to him immediately, "Is it too much, firefly?

He shakes his head weakly, feeling his embarrassment make his temperature rise again. He pulls on his sleeve a little more insistently and Shig gets the picture, turning his body more towards him, and Dabi leans in. Duster wraps his hand around the back of his neck again, touch always so light and careful, and pulls him in for the kiss he wanted.

The kisses they shared before were soft and slow, and this one is definitely both of those things, but it's different this time. Because this time, there is a spark that is coursing beneath it. Something that makes Dabi's skin tingle before he's even started to open his mouth for it. And when Tomura's tongue slips inside, Dabi can't help it. He loses control of his scent the way Shig had earlier, and even though his glands are extremely damaged across his neck and wrists, he's only wearing thin sleep pants, and the faint sugary smell of his arousal starts to fill the space between them. He's about to pull away and make some kind of excuse, he doesn't even know why he would do that when they are... something. Definitely having serious conversations about fucking as soon as his heat hits at the very least. Being aroused with him shouldn't embarrass him, and when Tomura's scent starts to get hotter in response, Dabi's relief is immeasurable.

Tomura knows what he's doing, so he takes charge of the kiss as the sound of the couple fucking spills through the speakers. He licks inside of Dabi's mouth and shows him how that can feel good. He encourages him to tilt his head, to move his lips, to use his own tongue, nervous as he tries to mimic the movements. He doesn't know if he's doing well or if his inexperience is what's making this hotter for Tomura, but he stays smelling warm with his arousal as he kisses Dabi again and again until it's Dabi pulling back with a soft gasp before his teeth are clenching down to keep any other sound out of his mouth.

There's a deep, unfamiliar ache that is starting in his pelvis and it sours his scent with pain.

Shig pauses and looks at him, confused. "Are you alright, baby?"

"I-- I think," he swallows his pride. They were barely making out. "I think my glands are trying to work."

Tomura blinks, and then his whole expression brightens. "That's good, firefly."

"Tell that to my fucking nerve endings."

Tomura has the gall to laugh, but then he moves to press another kiss to his forehead and pause the video. "I'll get you some pain medicine and your heating pad. If it goes away, then you're not in pre-heat yet."

"And if I am?"

"Then I'll stay with you, if that's still what you want, Dabi."

He makes himself meet his eyes. "Okay." It's easier to say that than so bluntly admit to him that's all that he wants. Shigaraki has been with him through every step of him trying to get healthy. He's... the only person Dabi has ever trusted like this. He knows that he'll take care of him and make sure that he feels good. He believes him when he says that he'll be a perfect alpha for him just to prove that he's worthy of everything Dabi has chosen to trust him with.

And he thinks the other knows him well enough to infer all of that from the simple answer. It earns him another kiss against his forehead and then Shig confiscates the alcohol and gets out of their nest. When he comes back, it's with one of his water bottles from the fridge, the heating pad, and some medicine, and he stays with Dabi as the pad heats and medicine kicks in.

The ache goes away after about half an hour, but Shig stays for at least a little longer than that, with Dabi curled up against his side, his arm wrapped around him, and tracing the patterns of his scars over his shoulder. He must stay for a little while because he lingers long enough that Dabi falls asleep and can't remember being moved.

///

Dabi wakes up with sweat soaking his skin, and the pain from the night before so, so much more intense than it was then. Intense enough that Dabi lets out a pitiful whimper and immediately fumbles to turn on the heating pad again, even though it's already sweltering in the enclosed canopy of their nest. Their nest. His and his alpha's. Dabi whines softly, looking around. Tomura isn't here. He doesn't usually stay the night, he knows that, knows that he always comes to see him early in the morning, but he wants him now.

Okay, well, if he has to wait for him, he can at least fix their nest. Dabi liked being closed inside of the fort, but it's far, far too hot for that now, and the blankets and pillows are a mess. He takes down the overhead sheet, opening up the nest to the cool air of the rest of the room, and then he starts to shift things around. He lays out the waterproof blankets just over the round futon that makes up the base of the nest, to keep it clean, and then he starts to push the pillows around, building up an edge around each part of the bed until there is a rim around the entire thing that makes it feel secure. Dabi feels a tickle in his throat and tries to cough it away, but it persists, and as he lets out the next slow breath, his whole chest starts to hum softly. It takes him a second to realize that despite the discomfort in his pelvis, he's purring as he puts all of the super soft downy blankets Tomura got for him back into the nest. The blankets smell like them too, and as much as Dabi just wants to curl up in the mound with his face in those, he knows that he has to keep being good if he wants to retain permission to go out on the League's debut.

So Dabi crawls over to the minifridge, really not trusting his legs to not shake badly if he were to try and walk there instead. He doesn't feel hungry, he's just hot, hurting, and anxious. Doesn't matter. He has to be good and make sure he eats something. He usually waits to have breakfast with Tomura, but he wants his alpha to make him feel better, and he will always prioritize making sure that his physical needs are met first. So Dabi takes one of the heat smoothies, something that he can have cold, and something he won't have to worry about having to prepare in any way. Tomura got him the fruity kind instead of the artificially sweet ones and Dabi likes it a lot more than his nutrient shakes. He drinks it quickly, liking the way the chill settles in his stomach, and then refilling his water bottle from the little pitcher in the fridge before he gets the pain meds from the night before and crawls back over to his nest. He turns on the heating pad even though he's already a little too warm, and takes the pills. It's with some hesitation, but he digs out the quirk cuffs from the 'heat box' and puts those on, allowing his temperature to lower enough he doesn't think he'll bake himself alive curling up tight in the blankets with the heating pad until Tomura comes in.

He pulls the blanket that the other man had been laying on the night before right up to his nose. His smell is so good. All that hot spice of an alpha, but the calm pulse of rain going over it all. It's so... reassuring. Tomura has made himself kinder, softer, more responsible for him. He's been spending every day with him despite all of his own work just to make sure that he's alright. He's embarrassed him a lot, but all because he wants him to feel better. Because he... believes he's worth the time. He didn't just throw him away when he needed that help to be everything that he thought he would be when he hired him. He cares about him. Dabi doesn't know if he's had someone who has done that since he was a child.

It takes another half an hour before Shig knocks on his door and steps inside, and as soon as he does, Dabi is squirming because the discomfort and anxiety switch abruptly to a sharper pain and an overwhelming pulse of heat that goes through his body and tells him that yeah, this really is happening. It's not just a little pang like the night before. He's going into his heat.

Not even twenty-four hours ago, that prospect terrified him. Now Dabi starts to purr loudly as soon as Tomura takes a step into the room. The pain is more intense, but that's okay because it means his body is doing its best to try and get itself ready to help make both he and his alpha feel good.

"Tomura," he whines, trying to push himself up in the nest, wanting to bring him closer as fast as possible, even if that means trying to put weight on his shaky legs.

"Oh, firefly, don't move--" He throws the lock shut and slips out of his shoes at the door, before crossing the room and immediately kneeling down at the edge of the nest. But he doesn't come into it right away.

"Duster," he sounds more petulant this time, reaching for him again.

"I know," he says placatingly, "but are you sure--"

"Get in here and show me how this is supposed to feel good or I'm going to set you on fire!"

Tomura laughs at him again and reaches into his back pocket, taking out a set of leather gloves with the index finger cut out of them, and slips those on before he climbs into the nest with him. "Okay, baby boy, don't be cranky." He pulses out the smell of his contentment, and Dabi whimpers as that pain gets a little bit sharper and makes him squirm as his legs press together instinctively. That hurts, but the rest of his body is starting to feel tingly, and the smell of Tomura's happiness makes him a little light-headed. He wants his alpha happy. It means that he did a good job remaking their nest. And Tomura doesn't just stop by reassuring him with his scent, he also gathers Dabi close and nuzzles along his shoulder, dragging his nose up the side of Dabi's neck as he holds him, and murmurs, "You did such a good job getting everything ready, Dabi. I promise I'm going to take care of you just as well." He rubs his scent into Dabi's skin and all of the sudden that pain inside of him snaps.

Dabi lets out an animal keen that he didn't even know he could make as the pain disappears and instead his system is absolutely flooded with the arousal that he thought he should be expecting as an omega in heat. He feels his slick pulse hot down his legs and soak through his pajama bottoms immediately as his cock hardens to the point of aching in a matter of seconds. Holy fucking shit. Dabi doesn't think he's ever felt arousal like this-- no, he's positive that he hasn't. That this is the most intense form of need that has ever been pushed through his body. That he wants to be touched right now, more than he'd even wanted to stop burning in the moments before he'd died. Dabi tangles his hands in Shig's hair, feeling how soft and thick it is, and pulls his face up from his neck so that he can crash their mouths together.

Tomura's scent is going thicker in the air, even as he lets out another breath of laughter against his lips, which is why Dabi doesn't bite him hard enough to draw blood as he tries to get his tongue into his mouth the way it was last night. His alpha chuffs at him softly, and his hands, made gentle to protect him, are wrapped around his body, pulling him closer even though Dabi is making such a gross mess as the slick smears all over his skin. Dabi saw how much those other omega's could produce, he knew that people called omega's on their heats a 'slip 'n slide', but he had still half thought that it was a figure of speech. He understands just how sincere those things were now as he feels his pajama bottoms clinging to his legs as every drag of Tomura's tongue behind his teeth has a fresh bit of his slick leaking out of his hole with no signs of stopping. Dabi is pretty sure he won't stop until Tomura has his knot sunk deep inside of him and he's full of his cum.

He doesn't think that last night he was thinking about how good his alpha tastes, but underneath the flavor of his toothpaste, he can find traces of his scent lingering on his tongue, and Dabi would give up breathing entirely if he could just keep licking out that flavor from his mouth. Dabi lets out a moan loudly enough he's a little worried about how thick the walls are as Tomura makes him part, but consoles him by licking across the seam of his chin and nipping at his jawline like his scars aren't even there. Dabi is pretty sure he should be bitching at the other for being gross, but instead the thought of being tasted, of being claimed by the alpha is making him even harder. It's a surprise to him when he realizes that his legs aren't clenched tight together anymore to try to smother the pain of his glands, and instead he's opened them up. That he's wrapped them around Tomura's thigh so that he can rub himself against his leg, his cock aching and leaking almost as badly as his hole as he tries his best to get the other to keep making him feel good.

Tomura lets out a growl that he's never heard before, a sound so deep and low that it vibrates through Dabi's body and leaves him gasping out another moan. "That's it, baby boy," his voice rumbles against his skin as he noses at his neck, licking at the place where his scent gland should be burned away and making Dabi moan again. He is pretty sure he didn't want to be claimed, but when Tomura gives a gentle nibble against that place, Dabi gets dizzy from how good that it feels. Shig's hands wrap around his hips and he coaxes Dabi's hips into moving against his leg. "I want you to feel so good, firefly. Show me what you like."

Dabi feels dizzy from how thickly their smells are swirling around the air between them and he's pretty sure that he should just push down his pants so that he can fist his hand around his cock, but he doesn't want to stop clinging to Tomura. Like if he lets go of him, the alpha might abandon him even though he's being swaddled in the reassuring scent of his arousal. But it feels so good to rub himself against Shigaraki's thigh. He's more solidly muscular underneath his jeans, and the thick denim is giving him a tantalizing texture even through his pajama bottoms. He ruts his hips up against his leg again and moans, dropping his head back against the pillows. Tomura chuffs with his approval, leaning over him and grinding his thigh up between Dabi's legs more deliberately, putting more of that wonderful friction against his body.

"That's it, beautiful. You can have anything that you want. Just let me make your body feel good."

He's pretty sure that if he weren't plunging deeper and deeper into his heat, he might have protested. He might have been embarrassed over how much of an absolute mess he already is, but it's hard to care about anything else than how good his body is feeling and how nice it is that his alpha is being so sweet and gentle with him. Tomura presses his neck to Dabi's as he lets him move his hips more and more frantically against his leg. The touch of their skin there bleeds out across their entire nest and somehow sparks pleasure behind his eyes like a firework nearly as bright as the actual friction that he's getting against his dick. The way that their scents tangle makes the whole room smell like completeness. He's not alone. He's not hurting. He's with his alpha, and he's going to be safe, cared for, he's going to get to feel good for the first time in his life, and he doesn't have to be scared. He's not going to be abandoned.

Those thoughts, possibly more than anything else, are what allow Dabi to let go of the last lingering threads of stress in his body and let him sink deeper into the hazy warmth of his heat. He ruts his hips harder and faster, until even just one more little twitch is enough for him to feel his orgasm washing through him for the first time in his life. It isn't like the way that he expected it to be. He thinks that he expected him to feel like he was going to ignite again, and maybe he would have if he didn't have the suppression cuffs tight around his wrists, but instead what he notes is that the pressure growing along his length makes his balls draw up tight to his base like if he were cold, so tense and feeling so full that he's not surprised that he can't keep it all inside. And at the moment of release, his entire cock feels like it's pulsing the sharpest pleasure he's ever felt along each inch of him. It makes the muscles of his thighs shake and fall slack as he feels the forceful ejaculation spill all over the front of his pajama bottoms in ropes that almost ache as he feels each spurt of his cum release from his body. Dabi is breathless from how good it feels, and it takes him a long moment to realize that he's moaning so loudly that his voice cracks as the sound rattles out of his throat.

"Fuck, that's it, Dabi. You're so cute, little omega," his tone is so teasing, but he can't even protest it when being called that has him letting out a little chirpy noise of bliss. He's the omega. He's the one who's being cute. No one has ever called him cute before. No one has ever helped his body feel good like this before. "And you smell so good." Dabi isn't sure that he's been paying attention to anything but how good Tomura smells, but he does try to find his own scent in the tangled mix of them. He normally doesn't think that he smells like anything other than smoke and burning, but now he can smell himself. There is an overwhelming sweetness coming off of his skin, something that reminds him of caramel, though there is still a little tang of burning in it. The edge of his fire that darkens the smell with a touch of his smoke. He doesn't think it smells that good, but he doesn't really like sweets anyway. "Let me get you out of those wet clothes, baby."

Dabi is reluctant for it, only because it means that he, apparently, has to let go of Tomura. But his alpha makes it an easier thing to do by making sure he's laying against the nice warm nest, and presses kisses to his lips and across his face, letting out his own deeper, satisfied purr as he does it. Tomura leans back and pulls away his own shirt, his skin, Dabi notices distantly, starting to get warm for the first time against his own. His body is always so cool to the touch, but he likes this a lot. It makes it feel like he's actually seeping into the other's skin. Then he reaches for Dabi's soaked pajama bottoms and Dabi trembles as he makes his soupy muscles work to lift his hips enough for Tomura to pull the fabric off of his legs.

When he's naked, Dabi is still feeling off-balance, but he tries to push himself up so that he can roll over. Tomura pauses him with his hand against his chest, eyes roaming over Dabi's body like he wants to eat him alive. "Where are you going, firefly? Do you want to stop?"

Dabi whimpers. He doesn't want that at all. Not when his cock is still just as hard as it was before his entire length was dripping with his cum. His insides feel like they're coiling tighter and tighter, desperately searching for a knot to hold on to. "No, alpha," he doesn't think that's what he meant to call Tomura, but the word slips off his tongue before he can stop it. It doesn't seem like it's a bad thing though. The other man gives another one of those low chuffs of approval and Dabi swallows whatever's left of his pride and keeps going. "...I was going to present," he feels his cheeks go a little hotter. "The way all of the omegas in the... videos did."

"Oh, precious," Tomura leans in and nuzzles their noses together before peppering his hot face with kisses. "You don't have to do that unless you want to. I would be perfectly happy for you to stay just like this so that I can see how cute your face is when I have you cumming on my knot."

Dabi lets out a whine that is nothing but humiliation as that has his hole clenching needily and sending a fresh pulse of slick down his thighs. "Need it, Tomura. I-It hurts." He thought he was supposed to stop hurting once he got so hot, but he feels miserable as he waits to get more.

"I'm sorry, firefly, I'll help you feel better." He promises, his eyes dragging down his body. His hands follow the path of his eyes, tracing over his shoulders, down his chest and rubbing his thumbs over his nipples. The feeling of the soft leather against his skin makes him moan again. His nipples are already more sensitive from his piercings, but the way that they feel now is far more sensitive than they ever have been before, and Dabi finds himself moaning and arching into each touch. Tomura starts to let out a continuous, deep purr as he touches him, hands moving away far too soon so that he can bring them down along Dabi's stomach, one dipping between his legs, and one covered finger, and one uncovered, running up his aching cock, and smearing through his cum. "Never been touched before, but you couldn't help decorating your pretty cock just like the rest of you, could you, baby boy?"

Dabi can't form a coherent sentence to answer him, he's too busy spreading his legs even wider and scratching his nails up Shigaraki's back. Tomura wraps his hand around his cock and gives him a stroke from root to tip, his length already so soaked that his glove glides across his skin and sends fresh pleasure going through his body. His hand doesn't stay there either though, and Dabi is about to beg for it back, before he sees that Tomura's eyes are starting to glow from how high his instincts are going. And then his hand is moving down, knuckles rubbing against his balls, and then pushing back--

He can't believe that just having Tomura's fingers rubbing against his hole can feel almost as good as it did to ride his thigh. "Alpha!"

It gets him another growl, Shig's scent going hot and him moving his hand to the back of Dabi's thigh, holding his legs open as wide as they can go, and then grinding his still clothed cock against his hole. Just that pressure there has Dabi mewling, his breath hitching in his throat. "You were so nervous before, little one." Tomura's voice sounds deeper, richer in some way that Dabi doesn't quite understand, but that makes his own instincts feel like they're about to go insane. He wants to have him, wants to have more, but he doesn't know how to get it. "Are you ready to feel what your body was made for now?"

Yes, yes, that's exactly what he wants. "Please, alpha," he pulls at Shig's shoulders, trying to get him to lean in again. He'd give him his mouth, his throat, every inch of his body if he brings him through this the way he promised to.

Tomura kisses him again, but Dabi is sure he's doing it mostly to distract him from immediately protesting when his hips move away from his own again. But the kiss is good, beyond that, because his alpha's fangs have dropped, and Dabi realizes what that rumble in his voice must have been. The edge of command that he was trying to keep at bay as Tomura starts to fall into his rut right alongside Dabi's heat. He can't help but chirping and purring, wrapping his arms around his neck and arching up against his body to show his pleasure as his alpha proves exactly how badly he wants him as his hormones rush to meet Dabi's own.

The other moves over him for a second and then there's the sound of heavier fabric hitting their nest before Tomura is lowering his hips back between Dabi's legs again. His hands curl around his hips and he angles Dabi's body up a bit more so that he can rub the hot head of his cock through his slick and between his cheeks, before teasing against Dabi's hole. Whatever thread of sense was left in him frays apart in his hand at that feeling. Tomura is big. Anything is big against his hole that hasn't ever had something trying to push inside, and he is breathless as the worry that it won't fit comes rushing back. But the wave of lust that follows immediately on its heels drags him under the tide and makes him delirious.

Whatever tangled scent he's putting out, the tiny whimper that slips from his throat, has his alpha chuffing and nuzzling against his cheek. He licks his skin and that helps to soothe his anxiety a bit. "It's alright, firefly, do you want to start slower?" He shifts to get his hand back between them, bringing his fingers against his hole again which is definitely less intimidating, but not at all what his body wants. "Can open you up just like this. Have you bounce on your pretty toy until you're desperate to be full of my cum."

His instincts are screaming against his nerves, telling him that he wants that, not to be stuffed up with some toy. He wants his alpha's knot. He wants Tomura to be the first person he has inside of him. He wants to be good for his alpha and help him through his rut the way he promised he would help Dabi through his heat. The way he's been helping Dabi ever since he got here. It's so hard for him to find his words, but he has to manage it if he wants to do any of that. "Just want you, Tomu." His voice is weak and breathless, the need pulsing under his skin like a second heartbeat.

"Yeah?" There's no mistaking the possessive, pleased rumble in Tomura's voice as he says that. "Okay, baby boy, do you want me to help you relax? It will make it easier." He asks, nosing at his skin and scenting him as many times and ways that he can as he moves so his cock can rub against his hole again. He teases around his rim, both of their skin getting even more soaked as he does so, because Dabi's body is so close to getting what he needs and he can barely string together a coherent thought in his head. He doesn't manage to make a coherent word, just whining high in the back of his throat as he nods his head frantically, holding tight onto the other as he tentatively grinds his hips back so that he can feel him a little more as well. Tomura gives him another slow, deep kiss, and then he breathes, his eyes glowing so bright as they look into his, "Relax."

Dabi's muscles go so weak. He didn't even realize how much he was holding back, but he barely can keep his hands over the other's shoulders, and his legs fall open as wide as they can. There's a fresh gush of slick pouring into their nest as those internal muscles finally loosen from the perpetual tautness that has been plaguing him since he woke up this morning. He lets out a low breath and starts to purrs softly as Tomura starts to press inside.

He is big. He's so big, and his head is blunt, and he surely can't actually be made to fit a knot inside of him the way he saw those other omegas take it. But his body is helpless to try and tense as Tomura rubs against him a few more times, each rock of his hips teasing him with a little more pressure until his hole is being forced wider around him.

The moment that his head presses inside of him with a soft pop, Dabi sees stars. The pressure of having something inside is beyond anything he's ever felt before, and even just his head is so much and his instincts cry out how good it is. He hasn't ever felt this good in his life. Even his first orgasm can't possibly compare to how wonderful he feels having his alpha starting to open up his body and push inside. Tomura chuffs and licks at his neck, telling Dabi without words that he's still so safe, that he's not going anywhere, that he's going to keep giving his body this pleasure that he doesn't have words for. He is going to make him feel better and better, until he can't keep it contained anymore and he falls apart completely, and then Tomura will probably keep giving kisses to all of his scattered parts.

His alpha goes so slowly, pressing in inch by delicious, agonizing inch, and there are so many of those. Dabi didn't get a good look at him, but he would absolutely believe from how blindingly full he's feeling, that he's definitely getting more than eight inches of him. And by the time their hips are flush, they're both panting. Dabi's whole body is shaking, his eyes squeezed tight, some bubble of emotion in his throat that he doesn't have a name for as he's given what he needs. Tomura presses kisses to his face, over his forehead, his eyelids, along his cheeks. He purrs for him in response, and slurs around his own tongue that seems to have gotten heavier with his pleasure and heat,

"Shh, it's alright, firefly. You're okay. You're doing such a good job, baby. You took me all the way inside your very first time. Your body was made for this, precious. You're perfect."

Perfect. Dabi hasn't been perfect for such a long time. He thought he didn't believe in perfect anymore. But when Tomura says it, when he manages to open his eyes and look up at him, seeing his hair wild and mussed from how he's been pulling at it, seeing the flush across his cheeks that has finally brought life into his pale skin, his red eyes that are still glowing so brightly as he looks at him with no hesitation, no doubt, only a naked, searing affection-- Dabi can believe it again. Maybe not about him. But Tomura promised he would try to be a perfect alpha for him. Dabi isn't sure what else he could possibly do to prove he is like this. He doesn't know what the fullness behind his ribs is, but it's almost as distracting as the fullness inside of his hole, and the way that his body chooses to deal with the first is by forcing more bloody tears down his cheeks in a soft sob as he clings to Tomura.

"Alpha," he doesn't have to explain that he's not crying because he's scared, or because he wants to stop. Tomura can feel him, can smell him. He knows what Dabi means and he just starts to purr for him again, even louder, as he licks and kisses the bloody tears off of his cheeks like he doesn't have to be ashamed of his ruined body. He proves to him that he wants him anyway when he rolls his hips into Dabi's, moving his cock inside of him and making every inch of his desperate hole light up with the need to be filled even more.

"Let me love you slowly the first time," Tomura murmurs against his skin. "And then I'll give you anything else you could ever want for the rest of our cycles, firefly."

All Dabi can do is give a weak nod, more tears trickling down his cheeks. He doesn't think he's heard anyone use even the vaguest concept of 'love' when it comes to him in over a decade. He'll take as much of it as he can get from the other man right now though.

Tomura does go slow. He starts just by rolling their hips together in slow, undulating movements, teaching Dabi's body how to move along with them. Each one makes him a little more breathless than the last, the movements warming up his insides, getting them a little more relaxed, and not already clenching onto his cock so tightly when his knot hasn't even started to swell yet. He does it no matter how much he must also be wanting to fuck him hard and knot. He gives it to him gently because he wants Dabi's first heat to be enjoyable more than he wants to make up for the two unremarkable ruts he had before him. But when he's starting to whimper and try to make the soft rhythm a little more impactful, Tomura starts to draw his hips back. He slips a few inches of his cock out of Dabi's body and then rolls his hips again, sinking back inside. And oh! The pressure was good before, the rolling movements were so nice to stretch him open and made his insides feel warm and soft. But the friction of having Tomura's thick cock slide back as deep as it can go, that is delicious. Dabi keens, and the sound hitches on his breath, and then is nothing but a purr as he wraps his legs tight around Tomura's waist so that he can keep having that immediately.

Tomura kisses his skin so gently, kisses his lips, keeps making sounds that tell Dabi how good he's being for him, how good they're making each other feel. But he keeps their pace slow, like he said he would. He doesn't pound into his hole the way they watched the other alphas do to their omegas in the videos. He just gives him his cock slowly and perfectly over and over again until there is nothing but their pleasure cycling between their bodies.

Dabi's second orgasm feels so different from his first as it builds in his body. The health video said that the internal stimulation would pull the attention from his cock, and it absolutely has. He's sure he would be complaining about how long he's been so hard if it weren't for the fact that every measured thrust inside of him is turning every muscle in his body into liquid heat as his pleasure builds under his skin until he's sure that he's going to erupt. But he isn't going over the edge. It's like Tomura is holding a lid over that peak, and he is absolutely helpless not to obey and wait for him as he tries to get more.

He doesn't understand what he was making him to wait for until he starts to feel his hole being forced to stretch a little wider again as he feels his alpha's knot start to swell. "Are you ready, firefly? I want to make you mine so badly. Want to have my spend soaking your insides, want your slick to smell like me for the rest of your cycle. Want to see you crying as you cum on my knot as I push inside." Tomura's voice is so thick with his own arousal, his growls and purrs slurring the words, his fangs glistening, and eyes still ruby red as he speaks.

Dabi doesn't have words for how badly he wants that too, but his body is able to answer for him, a fresh gush of slick going across his thighs to help open him up even more for his alpha's knot, as he feels a pain in his jaw for the first time as his own fangs drop to show his alpha he doesn't just want his knot, but that he would take his bite as well if he deigns to give it to him.

Seeing his teeth like that seems to strip away the last little bit of Tomura's measured control. He can't help the snarl he lets out, the sound demanding, possessive, and good instead of frightening. A sound that tells Dabi that he's so completely and deeply wanted that his alpha would kill anyone who might ever be stupid enough to try to take Dabi away from him. He kisses him hard and their fangs click, and their lips bleed, and that tangle of their blood on their tongues might as well be a drug from how high it sends Dabi into the clouds. He doesn't think that he'll ever have words for how perfect he feels like this. Even more perfect when his alpha builds their pace. Dabi holds onto him tighter, meets each one of his harder thrusts that has their bodies making obscene sounds as they move.

The moment that Tomura's knot forces its way inside of him, swelling completely as he starts to cum, Dabi's nails tear through his back as he arches hard and cums with him. Stars explode through his body, that eruption actually a series of supernovas going through him as his alpha makes him feel so good that Dabi is certain without the cuffs, he would have become a sun from how he feels. His walls clench down so hard on Tomura's length, letting him feel every perfect, pulsing inch of him as he cums so much. Dabi has been soaked practically all morning, but nothing could possibly have prepared him for feeling the way that this does, now that he's being filled with the other's seed instead of just having his slick rush out of him. There's so much of it, it makes him feel blindingly full, and it is so satisfying in a way that his animal mind can't possibly articulate. He just knows that he's supposed to be satisfied. That he's supposed to feel like his purpose has been met and be ready to settle and cuddle for a while until they unlock.

But Dabi wants it even more, and he's barely noticed that he's spilled his own cum between their bodies for a second time before he's starting to roll his hips again. Tomura chuffs at him, the sound absolutely amused. He can't thrust inside of him the way he was before. Not when he's locked inside. But he can do that good rolling thing that they were doing before.

"You want more, precious?"

Dabi manages a nod, and Tomura gets a hand under the small of his back and uses a strength that Dabi didn't know he had to lift him. Tomura lays back in their soiled nest and gets Dabi's knees wide around his hips, pressed into the bedding. "Okay, firefly, find what feels good," he murmurs, his eyes still glowing and his own arousal not fading in the slightest. "If you do a good job, I'll get to fill you up again without even taking my knot out of your pretty hole. Won't that be nice, baby boy? You'll be so full of my cum." He moves his hand to Dabi's lower abdomen, not minding the cum that gets smeared obscenely over his gloves. "Mm, maybe you'll get so full that I'll be able to see it."

That has no right to make him so blindingly needy so immediately on the heels of his last orgasm, but Dabi can't do anything but keen and start to try to work out how much he can actually fuck himself on his alpha's cock before his knot shrinks.

///

The rest of their cycle is a blur for the most part. Dabi just knows that he felt perfect, that Tomura took such good care of him, that he made sure he ate even though all he wanted was to mate and sleep. That he held him close and kissed him. that he never once tried to bite him, no matter the fact that Dabi essentially used his throat as a chew toy after their first round because he wanted Shigaraki to own him so badly. But he didn't let his neediness sway him. He also has the vague memory of being stuffed full of the dildo and his alpha's cock at the same time and how good that felt too, how his alpha called his hole so greedy even though it was his first time, and how that embarrassment had just made everything feel even better. But he doesn't think about that too much when they come out of their cycle.

What he thinks about instead is the fact that Shigaraki doesn't pull away. He helps Dabi clean up his space and remake his bed. He orders them a bunch of food and then they both go into the shower together and wash each other's hair and skin until they're clean. He brings Dabi right back to his now clean bed once they're dry, and then he slowly and meticulously scents every inch of Dabi's skin, and lets him do the same. Then he holds him close and lets him lick and nuzzle at his throat, purring all the while until their food arrives. Tomura makes sure he eats every bite of what he needs to make up for all the activity, and in a day or so, when their hormones have cycled lower, and Dabi admits that he's dreading having the examination that he was told he would have to after his heat, Tomura asks if he wants him to come with him.

He holds his hand the whole time, and gets Dabi bitching and arguing with him over nothing to distract him from how vulnerable he feels laid out on the doctor's table.

///

"That's dumb as shit, Shigaraki." Dabi snaps as they debrief with the others.

"Toga--"

"Already has an assignment. If she can get the blood of as many students as she can, then we'll be in a way better position to infiltrate the school later on, either by using her, or Twice's doubles. Unless your almighty teacher is going to actually disclose who the spy he has in UA actually is?" He challenges. He swears to god that Spinner and Compress have backed off a little from the table, but he doesn't give a shit. If they think that this is going to escalate and want to be pussies about it, then that's on them.

Shig scratches at his neck, his mask on and hiding his expression from Dabi, but he knows that the other man isn't pleased. But he made Dabi the leader for this job. He's going to lead, and he's going to prove that no matter how much time he was absent from the training with the others, that he's not weak. He's back, he's better, he absolutely deserves the position that Shigaraki has given him, and not just because all of them know he's taking his knot as often as he can get it, even with their cycles over. "Fine."

Dabi tries not to be too smug over that and goes right back to laying out where the others will be when they hit the summer camp.

By the time the meeting is done and Dabi has done the requisite socializing with the others, he's more than ready to be back upstairs in their room. Duster still technically has his own room, he still pretends to sleep there when his teacher calls and asks how things are going, but not five minutes after Dabi's inside, the door is opening again for his alpha, who steps inside and immediately pulls the hand from his face. It soothes him immediately to see his face again. He got so used to being able to see him, that whenever they're doing villain shit with the others and he's hiding, Dabi feels an uncomfortable distance between the two of them.

But Tomura looks at him, and he's not frustrated with him snapping or talking back to him during the meeting. He knows exactly what to expect from Dabi at this point. He just looks lightly chastising as he steps into his space and wraps his hands carefully around Dabi's hips. Dabi starts to purr immediately as he leans in to get his kiss, but Tomura doesn't give it. "You skipped your afternoon snack, firefly."

"Moonfish was having one of his, and it put me off my appetite. Figured we could make up for it tonight and order something terrible."

Tomura hums and gives him his peck then. "Yeah? Terrible how?"

"Something super greasy and bad for us so we end up not wanting to move for the rest of the night." So they can curl up in his bed together, cuddled close while Dabi watches Tomura play his games and he gets to feel cherished the way that Tomura hasn't stopped letting him feel since their cycle.

He gets another kiss and a soft purr out of his alpha too. "If you wanted pizza that badly, you didn't have to make an excuse, baby boy. You want potatoes on it?"

"Yeah," he doesn't need to stay in Tomura's space, he barely let him even get into the room, but he likes being close, and his alpha doesn't seem to mind, letting him tuck his head against his shoulder so that he can breathe in his scent like he's been starving for it all day. "Thanks."

"Anything for you, firefly." He presses a kiss to Dabi's temple, and Dabi lets his own purrs start to rumble quietly between them. He knows that. Tomura will do anything for him, and at this point, Dabi is pretty sure that despite all of his good sense, that sentiment goes both ways.

He enjoys this closeness for every second he can get it, only relenting when his stomach growls, and then, as soon as they've actually ordered their food, they're settling into the bed to be close again until it arrives. He thinks that he might not be the only one who was a mess before he got here, but he's just glad that they're both so invested in getting back on the right track. Just glad that he has Tomura with him, because he doesn't think he would be able to enjoy being an omega as much as he does now if he didn't have such a perfect alpha right beside him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment/ask!

#shigadabi #my writing #mha fanfiction

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thecommunityfridge · 3 days

Text

The Eye Roll

TW: Ageplay, diapers, humiliation, bedwetting, spanking, manipulation

This story was inspired by and costars (with her permission) the wonderful @dearchloe. Go check out her amazing work!

"No, Mister, no way! You have wet the bed five of the last six nights. I am done playing around. Five nights of wet pull-ups in a week means you sleep in the nursery until you can prove you deserve otherwise. No exceptions!" Miss Chloe lectured me as she fought to get me diapered and dressed for bed.

Miss Chloe, the domineering British woman who had shown up at my door one day, declared she was my Nanny, and somehow took over my life like an AB/DL Mary Poppins, wasn't wrong. I had wet the bed five of the last six nights, and I had invoked her prescribed consequence of having to move into my guest room turned nursery until I could prove I could keep my pants dry overnight.

Of course, it didn't matter to Miss Chloe that my accidents had all been her fault.

She had made me drink all that water right before bed every night, because 'I was too dehydrated.' She carefully monitored whether I got out of bed at night, spanking me for getting up before I had 'slept' a full ten hours, because 'I needed to get a good night's rest.'

How was I supposed to keep my pull-up dry when I was spanked every time I made a very necessary midnight run to the plastic potty she kept in her room, the only toilet I was allowed to use?

There was no use in explaining the unfairness of it all to Miss Chloe though. Each time I talked back, I was met with some explanation with infallible logic about how she was right, and I needed to just accept the well-deserved consequences of my actions. It was infuriating.

So, this time, instead of trying to justify my predicament, or talking back as Miss Chloe termed it, I tried a new tactic. I rolled my eyes hard, like a bratty preteen, turned my back on my self-declared Nanny, and said, "Whatever," with as much cool disdain as I could muster.

That was a bad idea.

Miss Chloe immediately rounded on me, getting in front of me, and cutting off any means of escape.

"Oh my! I didn't know my little poppet's eyes were so tired! That was quite the eye roll, Little One!"

I looked at my caretaker confused. Miss Chloe was usually much more in tune with why I did something than this. My eye roll wasn't because I was tired. It was a sign of disrespect and rebellion. It was a manifestation of my frustration with her domineering attitude.

I tried to tell Miss Chloe as much when she immediately cut me off.

"I mean, your eyes ~must~ be tired, because I know that a good little boy like you would never roll your eyes at me on purpose! If that was the case, why, I think you would definitely have to take a trip over Nanny's lap to be reacquainted with Mrs. Spoon!"

I physically swallowed my words. Miss Chloe had proven to be a savant with 'Mrs. Spoon,' and I was not ready to risk her wraith again.

"No! Of course not Miss Chloe, my eyes just must, um, be, very tired! It is bedtime after all!" I responded, backtracking faster than a cat walking in on a room of dogs playing poker.

"That's what I thought, you poor little thing. Let Miss Chloe help with that!"

My Nanny caressed my face as she spoke before placing a hand lightly on my back, leading me into the nursery I had been working so hard to avoid.

"I have just the thing to help those tired, little eyes of yours! Now stay right here!" Miss Chloe directed me, leaving me standing in the middle of the room. Standing there, I couldn't help but feel like the giant changing table, crib, and other furniture was silently standing guard over me as I listened to the warden of my infantile prison rummage through a dresser drawer behind me.

"Found it!" Miss Chloe exclaimed.

I felt her presence approaching behind me before, suddenly, the world went black. Something soft and totally opaque obstructed my vision. I raised my hands to pull the intruding object off my face only to hear as much as feel a loud smack as my hands were batted away.

"Nuh uh, my adorable little poppet. You leave that blindfold on! Those silly little eyes of yours need rest! Covering them and taking a much needed ni-night is the only fix for such worn out little peepers," Miss Chloe's said, her voice circling me as she spoke.

With the blindfold on, I felt so little and vulnerable. Despite this room being in my house for years, it's recent conversion to a nursery made it feel strange and foreign to me. Now, completely blind, I felt more like I was lost in some foreign country than in a room in my own home.

I strained my hearing, trying to catch any details to make me feel more comfortable in the nursery.

From my right, I could hear the soft hiss of the oil diffuser, emitting a soft, lavender scent. Behind me, a light ticking came from the small clock on the wall. From all around me, Miss Chloe's steps sounded soft and muffled by the clean, soft shag carpeting under her feet as she circled me.

"Alright, Little One! Let's get you ready for bed!" Miss Chloe's voice suddenly came from behind me.

Before I could turn, I felt the sharp tug of the shorts and pull-up I was wearing being yanked down from behind me. I felt my cheeks warm as cool air assaulted my exposed groin.

"Step!" Nanny ordered, lightly tapping my right leg.

I complied, lifting my right leg, listening to the crinkle of the pull-up as Miss Chloe removed my foot from my pullies' leg hole.

"Other foot!" Nanny's voice rang out from below me.

Just as before, I raised my leg as Nanny pulled my foot out of my shorts and pull-up. The sound of light rustling of my disposable undergarments my reward for compliance.

"Good job, poppet! You kept your pullies dry all day!" Miss Chloe said with a joy and sincerity in her voice that made her sound more like she was talking to a three-year-old than me, the 30-year-old standing half naked before her.

My blush deepened at her words.

"Thanks, Miss Chloe."

I wished I could see her facial expressions so I could at least guess at what she had in store for me next. Instead, I had to settle for the sharp sound of her hands clapping together.

"Alright, arms up! We're almost ready for jammies!"

With gentle hands, I felt my Nanny lift the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head, careful not to knock off the strip of cloth cutting off my vision. I heard Miss Chloe giggle once I was completely naked.

"There's my big boy! All nakey and ready for jammies!"

I felt Miss Chloe's hand wrap around mine and pull me forward. Hesitantly, but trusting that my self-appointed caregiver wouldn't let me hurt myself on accident, I let myself be led to the changing table that I knew from my memory was our destination.

"Hop on up!" Miss Chloe's voice intoned from beside me once we reached the table.

Delicately, I reached out and felt the soft padding and heard the loud crinkle of the plastic covered mattress set on top of the childish piece of furniture. Carefully, I lifted one leg into the table, only to be greeted by more soft crinkles. More confident, I lifted my second leg, getting my whole naked body carefully placed in the table.

I jumped a little as Miss Chloe's soft hands reached out for me, guiding me into the best position on the soft, cold plastic. With each movement of my body, I was reminded of my embarrassing situation by the crinkle of plastic.

Once I was safely on my back, without saying a word, Miss Chloe went to work.

I heard the soft rustle of fresh padding as she grabbed a diaper from under the changing table. The rustle only got louder as she folded and fluffed it.

I heard the sound of skin-on-skin before I felt it. The gentle slap to the side of my ass beckoned me to lift my naked tushy so Miss Chloe could slide the diaper underneath me. Resigned to my fate, I complied with the silent order, listening to the sound of the diaper sliding on the waterproof mattress on the changing table as the babyish garment was placed underneath me.

Still blind to the world, the next sound I heard was the almost imperceptibly noise of powder falling over my crotch. The sweet smell of talcum told me that Miss Chloe intended for me to stay in this padded monstrosity for at least my prescribed 10 hours of sleepy time tonight.

The diaper rustled again as my Nanny folded it up over my loins. The sound of the tapes being pulled and the light pressure of them being pressed flat signaled the end of my humiliating diapering was near.

"Perfect! A perfectly padded and properly protected little poppet!" Miss Chloe announced as I felt her gentle hands help me down from the changing table. "Now to get the sleepy boy into his jammies!"

I listened as Miss Chloe walked to the dresser pulled something out and returned to me.

As she did, I squeezed my legs together, marvelling at the thick feel of the diaper as well as how noisy it seemed in the otherwise quiet nursery. I didn't have long to examine my embarrassing new underwear before my Nanny returned with what was presumably pajamas.

In the reverse of being undressed, I stepped into what I could feel was a soft, fleece footie sleeper. I followed Miss Chloe's soft but firm instructions as she dressed me without question. Being blind to the world adding to my fear of the caring but dominate woman and made me more compliant.

The last noise as I was dressed was the tell-tale whir as the zipper was pulled up from behind me. The familiar noise signalling I was ready to be tucked into the horrible crib for the next ten hours.

"You're so adorable!" Miss Chloe preened as she guided me to the crib, my diaper whispering out my infantile state with each step.

Miss Chloe helped lift me into the tall piece of furniture. She helped me lay down, covering me with a soft blanket, before handing me what was I knew was a comically large baby bottle.

"Drink up!" my Nanny ordered as I heard her slide the side of the crib back in place, locking it with a sharp click.

I lifted the bottle to my lips and filled my ears with the gentle sucking sound that could only come from someone nursing the rubber teat of a bottle. A soft lullaby started playing from above me, signalling that Miss Chloe had turned on the mobile dangling over the bed.

A new click came from by the door, signalling that Miss Chloe had turned out the lights (a pointless gesture given I was already blindfolded).

"Goodnight, my sweet boy! Rest those tired eyes!" my Nanny called out as she shut the door to the nursery, locking me in.

As I lay suckling my bottle, diapered, blindfolded, and locked away in a crib, I couldn't help but relax. Maybe, I thought to myself as I drifted off to sleep and as I had many times before, Miss Chloe was right, and being put to bed in the nursery wasn't so bad.

#submission #maddiethedog #dearchloe

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themeraldee · 6 hours

Text

The Lucky Winner - Part 3

[Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2] | [AO3]

18+ Only | 10k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (very mild mention). Awkward first dates. Awkward dialogue. Messy timeline. Established Relationship. Love confession. Emotional sex. Unhealthy Relationship.

Summary: Your life turns upside down, again, when Homelander reaches out to you asking you out on a date.

Author’s Note: This is set between the events of Part 1 & Part 2. It really is just a self-indulgent excuse to explore some relationship building and dynamics. Lot of awkward dialogue so be warned.

The next time Homelander contacts you it catches you just as off guard as the first time. Maybe even more so. You never expected him to turn up in the first place, let alone be interested in seconds.

Your phone is ringing on the bed and ever since the development from a week ago you’ve been on edge anytime your phone rang. You drop the towel you’re folding back on the pile of unsorted laundry and you nearly dive onto the bed, reaching for your phone. In the panic you drop it about three times, your shaky hands inadvertently playing hot potato.

“Hello?!” You yell into the phone, panicked. You don’t actually end up checking who’s calling, too worried about not accidentally hanging up. Plus it’s not like you could have saved Homelander’s number from a week ago anyway. It showed up as blocked on your phone’s call logs so you had no way to recognise his number.

“Hello there! Nice of you to pick up.” You squeaked in surprise and the voice on the phone turned from chipper to confused. “You okay? You sound a little—” And oh my god, it’s him! You’re talking to Homelander, again. Okay, okay, now it’s time to try and keep calm.

His voice is still gloriously rich and sweet in your ear and here you are about to most likely embarrass yourself again because for the life of you you’re incapable of coming across as calm and collected.

“I’m fine!” You immediately cut him off, your voice shrill and strained. He does not need to know the ins-and-outs of your internal struggle. But either way you’re already doing terribly. Who are you to cut Homelander off mid-sentence? Where are your manners?

“Why are you—um—I mean, is there anything you need?” You clumsily make your way through your response. Definitely not how you wanted to present yourself but it’s a lot better than barely being able to say a word like last time!

“I’m taking you out on a date. Get ready for 7 today.” You heard it. You’re pretty damn sure you heard that right, yet not a single part of you believes what he said.

“Sorry? W-w-what do you mean?” You sputter in confusion, your brain simply not capable of computing this news.

“I mean that I’m taking you out for dinner. What’s hard to understand?” He sounds irritated and your heart is pounding. From so many things at once. How are you meant to process that Homelander contacted you again, is asking you out for a date and now you’ve managed to irk him?!

Before you manage to apologize, following your typical spiel, Homelander continues. “Maybe you don’t know this but it’s kind of what men do when they want to get to know someone. You following yet?”

You ignore the condescending remark and instead you focus on what he’s actually saying.

There may as well be steam coming out of your ears, you genuinely feel like a blushing teenage girl talking to her crush. You’re hot bright red in the face and you feel the literal heat coming off your face.

“Yeah but you’re not—well of course you are—but also you’re not! Y’know, just an average Joe.” How do you go about explaining that you don’t feel worthy of that kind of attention?

“Doesn’t matter, you’re missing the point. Is that a no?” You’d think he would be pissed saying that, who in their right mind would refuse going on a date with Homelander, but he sounds amused more than anything.

Again with the reading you like a book. Because you barely manage to let out a barrage of “No! No no no no— that’s not!” before Homelander starts laughing.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up then.”

“No, wait! I can’t—I can’t do the public thing. You’re you! And as soon as I show up in public with you I won’t be left alone. I know that’s normal for you, but my life isn’t like that. I’m just… me.” You’re just a nobody. You don’t have a social media presence. You don’t bring attention to yourself. And you like to keep it that way. Going on a public date with America’s golden boy himself? You would be ripped apart by the online vultures.

You all but freak out on the phone and for a second you think he disconnected because you can’t hear a thing over the line but he suddenly speaks up.

“Oh well. We can’t have that, can we? You better have dinner ready at your place instead.” You don’t need to see him to imagine him with the biggest satisfied grin on his face. “I’ll be there at 7. Catch you later!”

Homelander hangs up on you and you hear the disconnected tone ringing in your ear as you stand there like a fish out of water. Mouth gaping open, letting out disbelieving stutters.

You pull the phone away from your ear, looking down at it as if it offended you. It’s then you notice the time. Shit shit shit. You have less than four hours to make your place and yourself presentable, go on a grocery run and start cooking for Homelander?! What just happened!

“Oh no no no no. This is not happening.” You rub your hands over your face as if to wipe the shock off your face. You’re so overwhelmed with the rollercoaster of emotions that you don’t know whether to have a panic attack, laugh nervously or downright cry.

Okay, first of all the pile of laundry is gonna have to wait. You don’t have the time to meticulously fold your t-shirts and panties. You gather up the clean and dry laundry into your hands, haphazardly shoving it into the closet before closing the door on what will be an avalanche of laundry for your future self to deal with.

With pure panic-induced energy that you haven’t felt in a long while you manage to just about make your place presentable within an hour. Finally managing to gather and clean up the mugs and glasses that have been cluttering up your surfaces, making your bed all neat and tidy—just in case—and shoving all unnecessary clutter into cupboards. It’s not like Homelander would use his x-ray vision to judge the inside of your cabinets, would he?

Speeding your way out of your apartment you make your way over to the closest shop. Standing in the fresh produce aisle you suddenly realize you don’t actually have a plan. What the fuck are you meant to cook for Homelander?! Even after all the content you’ve consumed you’re pretty sure there’s not a single mention of his favorites. At least ones he’s not been sponsored to promote. Sure, he’s on many products, ranging from frozen peas to whole milk but that doesn’t mean it’s something he genuinely endorses. After all you want to get to know the man behind the costume, a date is not meant to be just another PR interview for him!

You’re starting to look strange. People are passing you while you’re internally panicking over what to buy. What if he’s allergic to something? What if he goes into anaphylactic shock and fucking dies! Even if you had an EpiPen or he carried it on him you wouldn’t be able to stab it into him anyway. And suddenly you’ve killed the world’s most beloved superhero and you’re spending the rest of your life in jail with Vought most certainly making sure you pay your dues. Even if all of that was true you had no way of knowing. It’s not like Vought would ever leak that kind of information. Not very good for their brand to tweet that their best superhero is allergic to fucking nuts!

You shake your head a little, snapping yourself out of your dazed state. If Homelander’s brand is anything it’s that red-blooded American male perfect standard. Surely he wouldn’t complain about some steak dinner right? Men love steaks! You just make sure to avoid most common allergens. You pick up some potatoes and other vegetables to roast along with a good pricey cut of steak that was easily out of your budget.

You get home just as fast and with each passing second you’re more and more on edge. You don’t know whether it’s the anxiety coiling in your guts or the so called ‘butterflies’ but you’ve never been this nervous before. With the clock ticking and the food cooking you’re suddenly more and more paranoid over everything. From your insane Homelander merch collection to even just the furniture you’ve got! Not that that’s anything you can change in the next hour but your mind is running at a hundred miles an hour and you’re trying to account for everything.

Just before it gets to the agreed time you change into something nice but casual, straight after shoving the laundry avalanche back into its place. You even leave the balcony door open, doubting he’s gonna knock on your door like a normal person.

And while you’re there focusing on platting up your best attempt at steak and roasted vegetables, you hear the familiar sound of Homelander’s landing. You whip your head towards the wall clock with such urgency it’s shocking you don’t give yourself whiplash.

Shit. It was literally 7pm. You wanted to set the table all pretty and prep it perfectly but you got so preoccupied with the place looking as good as it can that you lost track of time. You’re sure he’s used to luxury and perfection. You want to do your best to replicate that!

“Homelander!” Comes out of you with a little gasp. You tilt your head to look at him. And what you see makes your heart skip a beat.

There he is, in his suited-out glory per usual, except this time he’s holding a bouquet of roses with a dashing smile on his face that quickly turns into a self-satisfied grin as he immediately notices your panic at his presence. Even after he thoroughly reduced you to a puddle of goo just last week you were still such a skittish uncertain thing around him.

“Wow, smells delicious in here.” He looks around taking it in while inhaling the mouth-watering smell of sizzling steak.

Homelander steps closer with calculated steps, checking you out without an ounce of shame. You don’t know if it’s just the pure intensity in his eyes that has you feeling on edge or if he really is undressing you with his gaze. “These,” he frees your hand, prying your palm open with his gloved hand, “are for you.” He places the bouquet of roses into your palm, squeezing it shut around the wrapped stems.

In a way you’re paralyzed. The reality of the situation finally hits you and you realize you’re really here about to have a dinner date with Homelander. Who just brought you expensive, gorgeous flowers, because that’s something that totally happens to people like you.

You’re standing there, staring at the deep rich red of the roses that actually ends up matching the cardigan you put on for this. Your little attempt at complimenting the suit you knew he'd show up in.

Your mind is going a million miles a second and your other hand squeezes a petal in between your fingertips. There’s droplets of water on the velvety surface. You didn’t realize it was raining at the time. You look past him through a window as if you could make out the weather through the darkness of the evening.

Looking at the roses now, they look beautiful, pristine. He flew here right? How did he manage to keep them in one shape with the speeds he flies at.

“H-how did you fly with—” You don’t even finish the question before he’s answering.

“I don’t have to fly at super speeds all the time. You’d think my most loyal fan would know that.”

“You can read minds too?” Falls out of your mouth before you even think about what you're saying.

“No. You’re just very easy to read.” He places his hands on his hips, naturally defaulting to his superhero pose.

And sure, maybe the way your eyes move in between the window, him and the flowers is a dead giveaway but you still don’t think it’s that easy to figure out exactly how your thought process works.

He seems unhappy with your lack of enthusiastic response. He probably expected you to jump at him, wrapping your arms around him in pure glee that he’d do such a romantic thing.

He nodded towards the bouquet, raising his eyebrows.

“Anyway, your flowers. You might want to put them in some water. Unless you plan on fondling each petal all night.” You don’t know whether he said it that way on purpose or if your absurd attraction to his voice is reaching new heights but the imagery that conjures is not one that would belong at a dinner table. There’s a different kind of petal-fondling you have in mind for later.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. And thank you. Really, this is very kind of you. They’re beautiful.” Finally, he’s satisfied with that response, his shoulders relax a bit, his chest puffing out as he sees you hold the flowers closer to you.

You’re all over the place and your movements are in no way elegant or thought out as you awkwardly stumble around, pulling out the biggest glass you could find. This ends up being a large glass measuring jug which you admit looks rather strange, and you don't miss the way he raises his eyebrow at the display.

Well, it was a lot better than if you used the bucket you keep under the sink for cleaning. It’s not like you have a perfect pretty vase ready for this occasion. Until now you didn’t have anyone bringing you flowers and you never really bought any for yourself.

He doesn’t comment on the miserable display. Instead he focuses on how wound up you are.

“Jeez, you’re even stiffer than last time. You know I usually fuck my dates after dinner, but if you need me to loosen you up…” His crude attempt at humor and breaking the ice just has your brain screeching and halting all actions.

“What?! No, nonono. That won’t—That’s not. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. That you’re here.”

“I did tell you I’d come. And I’m pretty sure you’re not plating up two plates for yourself there silly.” He shakes his head while clicking his tongue, as if disapproving of your doubt.

“I mean, I’m surprised that you want to do this. With me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m here aren’t I? Last time I checked I asked you out, not the other way around. And trust me sweetheart, I don’t do shit out of pity.” He walks closer to you, his hand patting the side of your arm, settling his hand there and sliding it up until he reaches your jaw. The leather of his glove is cold, some raindrops still stuck in the crevices.

Although your heart rate picks up, you smile genuinely. Getting the straightforward confirmation that he wants to be here with you warms your heart. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have everything ready. I lost track of time. Do you mind just sitting down, I’ll finish up in a second.”

“Yup, can do.” He sits down at the small table slapping his palms on his thighs as he does so. Already peeling his gloves off, discarding the gloves at the edge of the table.

You finish up the plating, trying to make it as neat as possible. You bring the plates over, one in front of him the other right opposite. “Um, do you drink beer? I got some in case you do. I know you do endorse some but I’m sure that doesn’t mean you have to consume it in your free time.”

“No thanks, never got the taste for it. Have you got milk?”

You blank a little at the request. It’s not the typical pairing by any means but who are you to tell him what to like. Instead you comply, tucking away the little preference into the corner of your mind where you keep all your knowledge about him.

“Um, yeah. I do. Again, I got one you’ve done marketing for, just in case you did like it. I wasn’t really sure. Believe it or not there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” You admit. It’s not like everything that his Marketing team puts out is all real. You're sure they leave out any of his actual preferences so future advertisers don't clash with any competition.

“With this logic I’m surprised you didn’t buy the entire store.”

“I was close to it.” You take the carton out of the fridge, shutting the door with your hip. “Do you want it warm or cold?”

“Cold is fine.” You nod, pouring some into a glass placing it in front of him.

As a last touch you take two roses from the huge bouquet, popping them into a narrow tall glass filled with water and you place the romantic decoration to the side of the table before sitting down.

He strangely smiles at the gesture, something about it feeling awfully domestic. It may not be perfectly manicured but it's real and it does the job just as well. It's not a perfect setting made for a photoshoot. You're just trying to impress him with what you've got. All for his enjoyment only. And that alone makes it a lot more special.

Suddenly being right across him really set the reality of the situation. You feel a little awkward about the setting. But there is really only so much you could have done with your small apartment. And it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. He knows what you're working with.

You watch as he cuts into the steak, stabbing it with his fork and bringing a piece to his mouth.

“Wait! You’re not allergic to anything right?!” You suddenly panic, feeling cold sweat pour over you at the thought of your irrational thoughts from earlier coming true.

He looks thoroughly amused but he doesn’t answer and instead just takes the bite.

“Are you always this worried on dates? Or do you get them to fill out a questionnaire beforehand?” He seems to enjoy throwing all these little jabs highlighting how much of a nervous mess you are in his presence.

“I don’t usually cook for my dates on the first date. There’s usually nothing to worry about.”

“I did ask you out for dinner. This is your own doing missy.” He waved his fork at you, pointing at you being the one to blame.

“You think I’m—oh. I’m not complaining about this, oh my god! I just didn’t really know what you like! Surprisingly not a lot about that online. They really know how to keep you a mystery. And even superheroes have allergies! How was I to know whether you’ve got one or not? But even if you did, it’s not like Vought would release that information.” You ramble on, trying to explain yourself but you’re really just digging yourself a deeper hole. Not that Homelander looks particularly put off. If anything, the amused grin spreads to both corners of his mouth.

“You know I’m not here for the food right? Though this is not too bad. Didn’t think you had it in you.” He raises his eyebrows in appreciation.

“I live on my own. I don’t know why you’re surprised to learn that I can cook for myself.” You said feigning offense but inside you were squealing at the compliment.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a date?” He changes the topic, with each passing moment he’s less interested in the food and a lot more honed in on you and what little secrets you can let him in on. Though he’s still happily nursing the glass of milk.

“It’s been a while, I guess.” You’re overcome with this anxious feeling in your gut. Is it meant to be a dig at the date you’ve prepared? Is he saying that you’re not desirable enough to be dated?

He catches you off guard with his smug little smile. “Thought so. Guess you’re too busy being my biggest fan, huh?”

You nearly choke on your food, surprised and flustered by his words. The tell-tale sign of heat creeps up your neck and to the tip of your ears in embarrassment. He’s hard to read and you can’t tell whether he’s trying to humiliate you or if he genuinely enjoys the reminder of having someone fawn over him right there and then.

You put your cutlery down, softly clinking it against the plate. “Look, I’m really sorry about all that. I’m a fan but I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.” The corners of his mouth comically pull down feigning innocence with a shrug.

You playfully roll your eyes. “You insinuated. I’m just saying I wouldn’t have all this stuff out if I knew you’d ever see it!” You wave your arm in the general direction of the rest of your humble apartment. Still littered with Homelander merch. If you had more time to prepare for the date you would have maybe even taken some of it down. Replace some posters with photos of friends or family, making you appear a lot more put together. But alas, your guilty pleasure is still blatantly obvious and out for anyone to see. It's all the worse that in this case it’s being seen by the featured star of your guilty pleasure himself.

“There’s no shame in being a fan.”

“No, but it’s different to collect memorabilia and merchandise of a beloved superhero that you don’t ever expect to witness the madness and to actually have him see it all and feel objectified. As if all there was to him is just the plastic he can sell with his face on it.”

You don’t know why you’re getting into the heavy-duty topic of someone’s worth and value but maybe part of you just wants to present yourself as someone who cares. Someone who looks beyond the obvious.

Homelander is similarly perturbed by your words. Clearly not used to fans taking such direction with him. Thinking about it you doubt he hears more from them beyond a predictable can I have a selfie?

He furrows his eyebrows for a second tilting his head. As if he’s trying to look into your brain to read your mind. And sure he can literally see inside your skull but it doesn’t help him understand your thoughts. So instead he digs deeper. Putting the glass of milk down he looks you straight in the eyes.

“You don’t think that’s it?”

His resolute question makes you pause, feeling as if you overstepped. And even if, there’s no way to backtrack anymore so you continue. “O-of course not. I know you’re more than what Vought puts out there.”

You’ve spent countless hours following the content Vought markets out to the public. All of it manicured to match his perfect brand and profile. They’re slick enough to control even the content fans put out. From conventions to random street encounters. You remember following a thread of an anonymous fan sharing their experience of getting barraged by Vought’s lawyers after they shared a post about a poor experience they had meeting one of their superheroes. You haven’t heard an update from that story in a while, god knows what happened to the fan. Maybe Vought’s lawyers managed to get their anonymous account too.

“How would you know?” Irritation seeps into his tone, shoulders tensing, feeling exposed right before he slides back into his normal casual tone and body language as if remembering that he’s meant to be talking to a date and not some nosy interviewer trying to get the next scoop.

“I mean who hasn’t put up a face to show the world their perfect self? Whether it’s on dates or in front of friends. I just imagine that doing that in front of the whole world means there’s a lot you feel like you have to hide.” With each word you feel like you’re digging yourself a hole, ruining any chance of another date. But you’ve started saying your piece and when else are you gonna get the chance to tell the man exactly how you feel?

So you continue.

“I just think it has to be exhausting. Your entire job, your life is existing in the public eye and you can’t ever slip up? Not super-abled celebrities deal with that already but for you there’s the added burden of being seen as the superhero right? ‘Here to save us all’. I just mean, do you ever get to be yourself?”

You mean to be sympathetic, not that you could ever imagine what it’s like to be in his shoes. Being as obsessed as you are, you've watched all the footage with him. You notice how often the same lines repeat, how well he’s perfected the mask of a perfect hero. The fake humble you’re the real heroes being repeated in every video and appearance. If it was you, you know you’d have enough a while ago now. The daily grind of a job is exhausting enough but to do that all under the public’s scrutiny? You couldn’t even imagine.

You were so lost in your little monologue, spilling all the little thoughts you had about him and his persona that you miss how his casual demeanor has once again shifted into something else. He’s less irritated but he’s tense. Even more so than before. He wears an expression you’re pretty sure you’ve not seen on him before. His jaw may not be dropped but his surprise and confusion is evident without it.

He’s speechless. Thinking about it now, has anyone ever spoken to him in such manner before?

You watch his body language and the way he’s squeezing the fork so hard you’re sure he’s bent the metal.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just once I get going I can’t stop!”

He lets out a breathless little laugh. His shoulders release in tension. He stops gripping the cutlery and sure enough it has a bend that definitely wasn’t there before but you don’t care. He’s not pissed. He raises his free hand waving you off and stopping you from apologizing any further. Something you’ve managed to do about a hundred times since his arrival.

“No. No, it’s fine. You didn’t.” He shakes his head a little, looking at you with a different look in his eyes. No longer just looking for a little bit of excitement, now he’s truly locked in. What else can he get you to say? “Well maybe you did a little, but color me intrigued anyway.”

He looks at you in a way that makes you feel small. You feel like you’re on your knees praying for your god to hear out your prayers knowing it’s unlikely for him to even notice you.

“Can't say I've heard any of that before.” He concludes, slumping back into the chair now that he's relaxed again, having lost all interest in the food you've served up.

You’re embarrassed by the call out. It’s like all your efforts to not appear like another crazy fan have been pointless. He might not seem angry but that doesn’t mean he’s about to jump at the thought of another date. You may have ruined your chances at this being anything more than mild entertainment to him so you try to save yourself. “I just mean. I have always wanted to get to know you. The you without the cameras.”

“You already have. I don’t go on dates with many fans, believe it or not. And I gotta say you’re a lot more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

And maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause yet. Have there been many people that Homelander has ever found genuinely interesting? You wouldn’t know but at least you’re one of them.

“Oh…ah-hah thank you.” You fluster under his heavy gaze. His words make your heart skip a beat. There’s very little that can match the euphoria of your hero, the hero really, saying he finds you interesting. It’s hard to calm the pounding of your heart at the thought of a man of his caliber seeking your company out.

After all you’ve managed to blurt out you feel more at ease. It’s not awkward like you expected it to be. In a way you’ve broken the ice you didn’t know was even there.

With you both losing interest or having had enough of your meals you move to the small but comfortable couch. And like any good dinner and movie date you put on the first title that gets advertised to you on the main page of the Vought+ streaming platform.

In reality the movie doesn’t get watched. Either you let it play in the background or you pause on sections just so you can continue the conversation between the two of you. And somehow it’s still mainly you literally just rambling on about him. It’s not that he doesn’t talk or doesn’t ask questions about you but you see the way he preens at all the enamored praise you send his way.

The only parts that do get watched is the small cameo Homelander ended up having in the title and the conversation steers back to him. He gives you all the details you ask for, more than happy to talk about how great of an actor he is.

With each minute of sitting close to him you feel your body respond to him. You feel hot. Too warm for the cardigan you’re wearing but you don’t want to seem too forward by taking it off. Especially after knowing what kind of trouble he could get up to in between your legs it makes it very hard to accidentally brush against his thigh and not spontaneously combust.

Homelander turns around to look back into the room while you’re dealing with your internal turmoil. Would it be too unseemly for you to initiate?

Your thoughts are interrupted when his bare hand cradles your jaw, bringing you in for a kiss. The whimper you let out is embarrassing but you quickly lose track of anything that’s not his hot lips melting you into a puddle. Just as things are about to get good, just when you’re about to pry his lips open with your needy tongue he pulls away. He doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his hot breath while he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’ll have to set off. I need to get back to Vought tower.” He hums so close to you that you get goosebumps from the way his voice turns all low and hushed. Even though the words he’s saying are anything but good news, the attractive sound still soothes you.

“Oh-kay.” You nod. A little sad but understanding that he’s got things to get to. Every part of you is holding back from pulling him in for more but as much as your fingers twitch for him you restrain yourself.

“Come on now. Don’t sound so upset.” He gives your cheek a soft little pat before placing another peck on your lips with a chuckle from behind his closed lips.

The taste of your lips pulls him in anyway and he holds you close for a few more indulgent kisses. Upon separating you’re warm and flustered. His touch always seems to have that effect on you.

“It's just… I had a lot of fun today.” And you don't want it to be over or for it to be the last time you see him. But how do you ask him out?

While your limbs still feel like jelly, having melted into the couch, he stands up, walking over to the little dining table where he left his discarded gloves, pulling them back on.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll be back.” He clearly reads your expression and watches as you stumble while getting up, clearly wanting to see him out before he flies off.

His words alone are good enough to lift your spirits and you let yourself show that joy outwardly.

“Thanks for today.” When’s the last time you’ve ever felt this in the moment? Even if he never came back this moment would easily be a highlight you look back on.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” As if he couldn’t restrain himself his eyes snapped in between your eyes and lips, his eyelashes fluttering, lips parting as he took in the sight of you. So eager to please and be there for him. He wets his lips and your stomach flips at the display. The pink of his tongue disappearing as quickly as it appears.

His eyes soften, lips stretching into a lazy lopsided smile.

“Do I get a goodbye kiss?”

And just like that with one last kiss he’s off again, returning to his duties.

This isn’t where things end with you two. If anything, your life takes a massive turn. It’s not been the same ever since you’ve won that silly competition. And it strangely makes you want to send a gift basket to whoever organized it, no matter how much you dislike Vought itself.

At first he comes back to you seeking comfort.

He strolls in through your balcony door which you’ve gotten into the habit of leaving unlocked—just in case. It’s not like there’s anyone else eager to fly into your home. You awake at the disruption, eyes bleary and straining in the harsh light of the nightstand lamp you’ve turned on to see what’s going on.

He doesn’t explain himself as much as he just vents to you about how he’s not being respected and taken seriously. It’s the first time he’s been back since your date and you’re surprised to see him so emotive. So unlike the perfect persona or even the carefully charming guy he presented himself as during your date.

He’s already pacing back and forth, the thud of his boots bound to disturb your neighbors below. Not that either of you care. He’s too preoccupied with being angry. And you’re too frazzled by the thought of something upsetting your hero to this degree.

You see the angry tremor in his hands and the sharpness of his teeth, highlighted by the yellow night light. You snap out of the sleepy daze and you catch his gloved hand when he paces in front of you.

You pull him down next to you, cooing supportive words and showing your own anger at seeing him be so disrespected by Vought. You believe they don’t know how lucky they are to have someone like him. They should revere him, yet the things he lets slip in his anger make your chest tight, fueling the rage simmering inside you.

It’s like seeing you riled up at the way he’s being mistreated is enough to calm him down. The more you seethe the more he cools down, the energy exchange working in between you perfectly. He’s pleased to have someone in his corner. Preening at how much you parrot the words he’s saying without needing to nudge you in that direction.

Swoop-in visits like these happen more regularly. Either he comes in irritated wanting to get some frustration and anger out, fucking you throughout the night until all he can think of are your moans and cries telling him it’s too much.

Or he comes in happy, excited to share the news that his numbers are up or that the public and the on-scene reporters couldn’t stop praising him after his latest save. Those days he comes in for affection and a cuddle, wanting to hear over and over again just how well he’s done since you’ve last seen him. Treating you less like a stress ball and more like a teddy bear he’s hugged against his chest in comfort.

You start thinking how lonely he must feel. The thought that there aren’t any people around him showering him with genuine love and friendship hurts you and suddenly you want nothing more than to keep him here with you, making sure he knows just how special he is.

As much as you’ve always been devoted to this god-like being and the idea that he represented, you never got to love the person. Until now. Now the ideology alone has seeped into your never ending love, fueling the suffocating adoration you hold for him. So strong it’s eating away at you anytime you don’t get the chance to scream how much you love him.

You used to see these late night visits as something he does for his own benefit. With you always being the easiest and most effective balm to his troubled soul. You didn’t think he was serious with you. After all, this is the Homelander you’re spending every other evening with.

So when he sends you flowers out of nowhere, effectively courting you, you start thinking that this might be turning into something real.

It starts with the first delivery at your door. A gorgeous bouquet bursting at the seams, tagged with a note saying it’s from Homelander. Since then he’s made sure to supply you with the most beautiful bouquets as if to keep a reminder of him on a daily basis. You finally invest in a pretty vase, knowing it’s going to be thoroughly used and displayed.

Your home always had touches of Homelander throughout it—some might even say too many. However, as your relationship grows you come to a realization that those really only represent Vought. It’s these new touches that really represent Homelander’s presence in your life. Like how he times the flower deliveries just right so your place is never empty. Always there to remind you to keep him at the forefront of your mind. Never wavering.

You two haven’t officially said that you’re dating throughout these nighttime visits but it’s at the tip of your tongue each time he comes. You want to voice the love you carry for him like a burden. Overflowing from your arms with nowhere to go. And it feels like each second you don’t say it, it’s being uselessly spilled on the floor like sand falling from in-between your fingers.

Homelander has his own way of showing affection. Seeing as so much of his life has been in front of some sort of camera you wonder if thinking in advertising scripts and photoshoot visuals comes to him more naturally than casual and real gestures. As ever since he started with the flower deliveries he’s been showering you with gifts upon each visit. As if everyday had to be Valentine’s day and he had to bring something to symbolize the reason for his visit.

You call him out on that one day.

“You know you don’t have to bring anything right? You don’t need to bribe me.” You chuckle at the gift box he brought with him. You’ve got dozens of similar gift boxes and bags that you feel reluctant to get rid of mainly for the sentimental value but the retail price associated with the gift they hold certainly doesn’t help.

He clasps the gifted necklace around your neck. The dainty chain lays cold against your skin and your fingers gently caress the pendant with care. Your statement still rings true but you can’t help but feel giddy every time he brings you something he thought would look great on you.

“Do you not like the things I bring you?” With a perplexed expression you see him trying to do mental math, trying to figure out why you could possibly not kneel or bow in gratitude. He watches you play with your new pretty jewelry with a squint.

“No! It’s all beautiful—this one especially—just. I don’t want you to feel like that’s an obligatory part of you being here.” You laugh it off a little, still dreamily thinking about what it really means to get pampered to this degree.

He breaks your thoughts with a simple sentence.

“Maybe I want to treat my girl.”

Your eyes widen, and you let out a shocked stuttered breath.

“Your girl?”

“Yeah, duh.” He scoffs as if what he said is as obvious as the sky being blue and water wet.

“Because you’re mine, right?” You don’t see the way his eyes reflect his own complicated and simmering feelings. The tension in his jaw betrays how he needs you to acknowledge his words and speak them into an existence. But you don’t notice any of that because it’s like the dam you’ve been doing your best to hold together with safety pins finally bursts.

You’re nodding feverishly. No longer able to hold back you’re possessed to blurt out the words that have been threatening to fall off the precipice of your tongue for weeks.

“I love you.”

Homelander’s eyes widen. Surprised by your admission just as much as you are. Your heart is racing, suddenly feeling insane for thinking this was anything more than simple fun to him. The knee-jerk response to apologize spills easily from your lips.

“I’m sorry—,” but instead he interrupts you by cradling your jaw in his bare hands, stepping closer.

“Don’t be sorry.” He says in a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. He leans in to give you a tender kiss. Just barely slotting in between your parted lips, pressing them against his. Before you get the chance to continue he pulls away with enough distance to speak up.

He breathes out, eyes squeezed shut in longing which to an untrained eye would just look like pure pain and frustration. But not to you. You’ve learned to read him better.

He nuzzles his face against yours, dragging his lips across your cheek until he reaches your ear, growling a weak, “say it again.”

You’ve partially gotten used to the timbre of his voice in your ear. Capable of having a conversation without getting worked up by every word he says but the way he’s now needily begging in your ear has your body erupt in goosebumps. He doesn’t need to say please for you to hear it anyway.

“I-I love you.” You whimper out. The emotion alone feels thick in your throat, as if it was clogging up your airways anytime you come up for air. Your heart is pounding, you’re strung up, the butterflies in your stomach make you antsy.

His hold on your jaw tightens. With a sharp intake of breath he smashes your lips together. No longer composed and tender. Your teeth nearly clash as he’s pressed you close to him. He’s prying your lips open with his, his whimpers easily falling into the press of your lips.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You don’t want to cry but you’re so overwhelmed with emotion the burn that turns your eyes glassy spills over and you’re dripping tears down your cheeks in pure emotional instability.

“Again.”

And each time he asks he sounds more wrecked.

“I love you.”

Homelander catches the tears with his tongue right before kissing the salty taste into your mouth. Not letting any of your love get wasted. You grab onto him, grasping where you can. Your hands tangle in between his as you wrap them around his neck. One hand grips as much of the fabric of his suit it can while the other tangles in his hair, pulling on it for support more than anything.

You feel like you’re drowning. The intensity of the moment makes you gasp for air but it’s like Homelander kisses it back into your lungs like a lifeline. Hearing his shattered whimpers soothes you, his own need fueling yours, filling the void your tears are leaving behind.

He lifts you up and with practiced ease you automatically wrap your legs around him.

He leads you both to the bedroom while he’s continuously prompting you to continue declaring your love to him. Each again, again, again you reward with the three words that make him feverish and mad. The more you say it the less your heart feels like it’s about to explode from the burden it’s been carrying for too long.

Homelander quite literally rips your clothes off, not caring that he’s leaving his own recent purchases in tatters. He doesn’t want to separate his lips from your neck where he’s kissing trails across each inch of your skin.

You don’t have the luxury to treat his suit with the same carelessness. Even if you wanted to, the tough molded material would make it impossible. Instead you do what you can. Unclasping his belt, pulling at the front of his suit, pushing his pants down where you can reach.

He helps you with taking off the rest of it until he’s on top of you, skin to skin. You rarely get the luxury of lying with him fully stripped and each time you’re shocked at how hot he runs. Now his hot body is making you melt under the heat alone.

Neither of you have stopped kissing with the same intense need that has been laying there dormant for months. Anytime you have the chance you repeat the same words over and over again until they’re all you know how to say.

It’s the first time sex has felt anything more than a physical relief he comes to you for. You’re barely keeping it together as he nudges your legs a little open, sliding his hand down your body, his palm blazing hot as the anticipation makes you clench your core.

It’s by no means either one of your first times, nor it is the first time you’ve been together yet you’ve never felt more nervous. The first touch he descends onto your clit feels like a lightning bolt crackling down your spine, spreading the tingles out to your toes and fingertips.

“Ahh hah—fuck. Want it so bad, don’t you?” He looks as broken as he sounds when he hisses at the feeling of your soaked pussy. It makes his fingers glide too easily, making it harder to give your clit the precise rhythm he’s learned to make you see stars with.

His attempt at his normal dirty talk is disrupted by his keen moans and broken whimpers. Part of you wonders whether his super senses include being able to feel other people’s sensations with the way he’s acting as if it was him getting his body set on fire.

You hum and ahh in response, your tongue feeling incapable of saying anything but the words you’ve been finally allowed to repeat over and over again.

His fingers easily slip inside the sloppy mess you’ve made for him and he moans right into the kiss he leans in to steal from your lips. And it feels good. The friction is perfect, his fingers are hitting the right spot inside you and the loud squelch is embarrassing and intoxicating in equal parts. Yet it’s not what you want.

It takes all your strength to reach down and pull his hand out of you, as instinctively you’re already clenching around the all too familiar emptiness you whine at every other time when he’s done with you.

“I want you. Please. Just you.” You manage to breathe out, your hand reaching over for his hard cock. You give him a few shaky strokes, smearing his leaking precum across the entire length.

“Alright. Uh huh, okay. I’ll give it to you.” And he’s just as out of it as you as his normal cocky one-liners just break into a lot of grunts and stutters.

He wedges himself in between your thighs, spreading them wide open. His lips part with a wistful sigh while his eyes haze over with lust at the sight of your pussy spread ope, generously glistening with slick all made for him.

He aligns his cock with your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. He’s just as strung out as you are. He splits you open with a single thrust, your slick pulling him in with an easy glide.

“I love you.” For the first time the confession spills from Homelander’s lips. A relief just as palpable falls upon him. It’s a different story for you. The words cause more tears to spill, a wet hiccup leaving your throat as you clench around him.

“Shh, shh.” He hushes you sweetly, already reaching back for you.

He lays his body flush on top of yours and kisses your tears away, the heat and weight of his body on top yours grounds you. He repeats the words over and over again in between wet, messy kisses. He ruts into you in shallow thrusts as if he doesn’t want to part from you any second longer.

Nothing in the world exists but you two and neither one of you can believe how perfect you really are for each other. You’ve always felt like the way you love was overwhelming. It left the other person choking on the overwhelming viscosity of it all. Homelander isn’t like that. To him your love is a breath of fresh air.

As long as you love him with the same unyielding intensity he’s yours. At this point, he wouldn’t know how to live without it.

He kisses you in a way that says just that. Needy and broken yet utterly completed by you.

You’re both so worked up with the overflowing emotions it doesn’t take much more than his frenzied grinding to make you both reach the release that’s as emotional as it physical. Maybe even more so.

Because the reward isn’t just a good orgasm. It’s the love that fills the air, spilling into every empty crevice you didn’t manage to fill with your bodies.

Homelander’s whimpers resemble cries as he finishes inside you right as you flutter around him with the toe-curling orgasm wracking your nerves.

It takes you a little while to regain your mental faculties after such an emotionally draining affair. You feel boneless, your limbs feel like jelly and you just lie there dazed. Focusing on the way your heart beats loud even to your ears.

Homelander is doing the same thing. Listening to your heartbeat with his head on your chest.

After a long while you both pull yourself together. Still in bed but now you’ve managed to strike up a normal conversation again. Talking about everything and nothing.

You lie like this for what feels like hours. Having changed positions you rest your head against his chest, ear pressed to his pecs to listen in on the steady beat of his heart.

After this reveal your brain recognizes your relationship as the utmost priority. Because of that your eyes lock onto the Kuddle Buddy plush resting just a foot away from Homelander’s head. As if you were locking onto an enemy. You pluck it from the pillow, squeezing it in your hand.

You’re staring at it, still clutching it too hard.

“What got you thinking so hard? You’re making my head hurt from how tense you are.” Homelander interrupts you from your thoughts.

“Just you. This. I can’t look at this stuff these days without—I don’t know—rage? To know how much Vought has wronged you.” You furrow your eyebrows, assessing the innocent plush toy while it’s staring back at you with its stitched grimace.

“That’s what the toy reminds you of, really? It should remind you of me.”

“It doesn’t anymore.” Your furrowed expression slowly melts into one of content as your hand presses against your new necklace. “Things like these do.”

“And these.” Your fingers continue to travel up your neck where they tap at the darkened patches you feel he has left behind. With soft nipping and sucking he left your neck coloured in all shades.

He plucks the plush toy from your hands, throwing it somewhere across the room with thankfully not enough strength to knock anything else over. You’re pretty damn comfortable and you’d rather not get up to assess any damage.

“Maybe I should give you more reminders then.”

You squeal as he easily pulls you up so his lips can meet yours, kissing your worries out of your mind.

Homelander lands on your balcony with a soft thud. It’s late in the afternoon, earlier than he normally arrives, and he doesn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Already predicting the shit Madelyn would put him through if he got caught regularly perusing outside some random person’s apartment.

His person’s apartment really. You’re not just a random boring nobody.

He makes his way in quietly, closing the door and stepping in. Each time coming back to your apartment has felt more like coming home than he’s ever felt at Vought. You’ve arranged your life around him. He’s noticed you cancel plans, call off events just so you could stay in in the evening, waiting for him to make his return.

You even make space for him in your small apartment. The state of which he’d normally scoff at but it’s hard to mock your financial situation when you manage to make the place feel warm.

His presence left its mark in the gifts you happily displayed or the flowers you always took good care of.

And of course, the insane collection of merchandise you’ve spent years accumulating.

Wait.

Where is everything?

Homelander looks around, breaking out of his routine and instead he scans the surroundings as if it’s the first time he’s ever been here. Only now does he realize that all the usual merchandise carrying his likeness is gone. No posters on the walls. No action figures on the shelves. No funko pops. No collectibles. Nothing.

Homelander feels his blood pressure rise. There’s no way you’d want to get rid of him. Not you too. You love him. You wouldn’t do that.

He finally notices the black trash bags pushed into the kitchen, still open and overflowing with all the things missing from your walls.

His stomach flips.

No. Nonono. This can’t be happening.

You can’t get rid of him like this. He can’t lose you.

Not after he’s finally tasted what real love in cooking tastes like. Or what it’s like to wake up next to someone who instead isn’t pushing you away straight after sex. Someone who makes an effort for him. Not out of fear but out of love.

He mentally compares everything you’ve changed his perception on.

Like when you give him a gift or help him out it’s different. Vought employees being at his beck and call could never compare.

He’s the most powerful man in the world, with means that don’t feel like they have an end yet he could never buy the love you give freely. For once, love doesn’t feel like pulling teeth. It feels like a warm embrace on a cold winter night.

You make it easy. You don’t fake it. And most importantly you do it unconditionally. Love him through thick and thin, the devotion to him a part of your very core. Your love is overwhelming, oozing and sticky like he’s never gonna be able to get rid of it. Just like you could never get rid of him.

You’re the only one who hasn’t left him.

Exactly. It can’t be. You wouldn’t.

This has to be some kind of a mistake.

The shuffle of your slippers against the floor breaks him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looks up sharply. Seeking some sort of explanation.

“Hey baby. You’re early today—what’s wrong?” The smile drops from your face as quickly as he sees it and it’s only then he realizes his hand is shaking. He squeezes it into a fist, the leather creaking with the pressure as he takes in a labored breath with a jittery shake to his head.

“W-uh-what is… What are you doing?” He blinks rapidly, shaking his head pretending that his voice doesn’t quiver and waver the way it does.

“Bit of spring cleaning. After we talked the other night I just can’t look at this stuff and not think how much Vought has used you. I don’t want those reminders. It’s not what I thought it was and now that you opened my eyes to it, I can’t forget. So. Out with it.” You say so casually, not picking up on the panic he’s been going through in his head.

“Oh—okay.” He lets out a visible breath of relief, his posture relaxing. “I thought—” His jaw tightens and he looks away. Thought so heartbreaking, he doesn't want to give it voice.

“You thought I was getting rid of you?” You stop what you are doing. Putting the box on the couch and instead you walk up to him, hand on his jaw you turn him back to look at you.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” You kiss him, and Homelander melts right into it. He lets himself melt into the loving embrace of your pliant lips.

“Good. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” When you pull away he puts his hands on your jaw, tilting your head as if he was inspecting you. Seeing if what you’re saying is true. And he can’t see a single speck of a lie with the steady beats of your heart and the taste of love on your lips.

“So what are you doing with all of it?”

“Selling it, donating or trashing some I guess.”

“Why not sell it all?”

“You can buy a Homelander poster or card at any shop for a few bucks. I'm not gonna bother with those.”

“What if I sign them?”

“Oh please don’t waste your time. You’re not here to be a show pony.”

“Nonsense, come on. Bring it out.”

Homelander ends up taking the stack of posters with his or the Seven’s likeness from the top of the trash bag, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He sits down, hooking his cape out of the way. He picks up a pen off the table already signing the first poster.

Part of him is still upset that you feel like throwing a part of him away. Is this part of him not good enough for you anymore? It’s how he found you, how he got to know you and now it feels like you’re throwing it away.

As if you could read his thoughts you sit down next to him, placing your hand on top of his as he’s halfway through his signature.

His head snaps up towards you, expression clearly guarded while he looks you over with his piercing blue gaze.

He carries his upset so visibly it would be hard even for someone as unaware as you to miss it. His smile is tight, not even attempting to reach his eyes.

You pull the pen out of his grip, instead wrapping your hand around his. The other one goes to his hair, scratching your nails down his scalp until you reach his undercut where you play with the shortly buzzed hair.

“I’m not getting rid of you. Not now. Not ever.”

At that he leans into you, nearly purring at the pleasure your scalp massage brings him. The way you touch him with no hesitation will never cease to amaze him. There’s enough love pouring off you to almost fill the black hole in his heart.

It was exhilarating to have someone so eager to keep him in their life. Everyone else has just pushed him away, entertained him until they got what they wanted. Not you. You give and give and give. Sometimes he’s scared you’ll run out of love to shower him with. However, one look at you tells him that the love you carry feels just as much of a burden as his need for it does to him. You free each other by sharing the love. You feed his insatiable beast of a heart and he lets you burst the dam free without feeling like you’re not allowed to.

The posters are forgotten about. Any hurt brushed away with a press of his lips to yours. Needy and hungry, wanting to see if you can prove your words with actions. Again and again.

And you do. Like you’ve done a hundred times before and just like you will do thousands of times over.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged when I post a new Homelander fic)

@morishitoshi @ker0senebunny @itsvaleriesucka @thychuvaluswife

@nervoussystemss @littlegaaby @natliecole @thatvintagefanboy

@infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @hom3landr @mrsdesade

@nommingonfood

#yayyyy it's done #I need to learn to keep my chapters at a reasonable word count honestly #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction

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transient-winds · 1 day

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Holy fuck, what a ride.

Spoilers for Wind Breaker Chapter 156 ahead.

Gosh. Where do I even begin?

First off, the "Umemiya is a selfish bastard" thing from Endo earlier on is rattling around my brain as even more ridiculous after the intro to this chapter (it was already absurd the first time he said it). Umemiya, for some reason, is taking responsibility...for not winning against Takiishi pre-Bofurin which led to their current situation?? Ume, hun, what. It's literally not your fault Takiishi is obsessed with you ong. He just wanted that soft cottagecore lifestyle for his hometown and love ones! No wonder the weight Umemiya carries on his shoulders gets unbelievable heavier if this is what and how he thinks.

Even after all the destruction and chaos brought to his beloved home and to the people he loves and who love him back, he still wants to get to know Takiishi. Umemiya, your ideologies and beliefs, let me pick your brain king.

The way Umemiya monologues about Takiishi is soft yet firm. Kind of like a scolding? Or a lecture. It's softer than what would be a common reaction to someone who's hurt their people and home. While Takiishi is still a mystery, Ume definitely knows that his fights against Takiishi mean a lot for him and especially this one. A "I'm humoring your wants rn but I'm doing this my way" if you will.

Special shoutout to table-kun who has joined chair-kun at the grounds of Furin! Thank you for your services. 🫡 (Still lowkey wondering how the others are doing and how they're reacting to the small glimpses they see of the fight from below)

These senpai want to be cool and reliable in front of their kohai. UmeHira, my beloveds.

ALSO THE RAIN! I don't know why but I got so excited when it started raining. The chapter title for today is "Overheat", so the rain could be symbolic of the overall fight coming to an end. A sign to cool down if you will. Come to think of it, what time do you think this chapter is currently at right now? Since it just started at midnight (and Takiishi's bday ig). It would be so fucking cool if by the end of this arc, there'll be a page with the first rays of morning light shining across Makochi and onto the rooftop. Oh, it would be so pretty and fitting narratively (& symbolically). Like the light has triumped over the shadows. I ALREADY HAVE AN IMAGE IN MY BRAIN FOR IT SKSK (this is setting me up for failure if there isn't a scene like this in the next chapters).

And I'm sobbing because the acknowledgement? The praise and confidence in Sakura's will? The foretelling? THE NEXT LEADER OF BOFURIN Y'ALL *wails and ugly sobs*

THE FLINCH. THE SHUDDER. TAKIISHI IS FEELING IT RN. I MEAN I WOULD TOO IF THAT GAZE WAS ON ME.

"Hey Takiishi, let's have along talk, yeah?"

Fucking 👏 phenomenal 👏 delivery 👏👏 (and page art, nii-sensei never misses)

I think this is it guys, I think Ume finally won against Takiishi.

–

As always, Nii-sensei did such a wonderful job playing with my emotions this chapter and the lines hit so fucking well thanks to the translations of Jacqueline Fung (praise be to these two and the rest of the staff behind the official English release). Support the official release and all that over on KManga Kodansha (who should open the site up internationally, please). And thank you for reading my yapping 'til the end!

#wbk chatter #wind breaker #wind breaker spoilers #wind breaker chapter 156 #umemiya hajime #sakura haruka #takiishi chika #i held back in staring at ume for too long #i failed clearly

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rubus-yunnion · 1 day

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Okay so this was the au I've been working on since the beginning of this month, this is just the generic idea of it? I guess? I'm definitely enjoying working on it, that's for sure!

AHEM

So basically the whole "shape" thing ruined everything for everyone on the rig, but what if it didn't exist physically but only mentally? It only affects the people who were infected by it in the game (Raffs, Gibbo, Trots, Muir, Rennick, Addair, O'Connor and Roper), so the second Caz takes the step that would normally trigger the explosion, it actually makes the infected crew lose their footing, and can feel their head pounding so furiously its like the same explosion went off in their heads.

After that the crew gets strange dreams, especially Muir. Those dreams turn into nightmares and they are left there everyday looking even more exhausted then usual. They can feel the pain, but its not..well, for an example: its not like "oh Trots legs ache because his legs were torn off" And it would cause a lot of pain in his thighs or something, but with Muir? Or Rennick? It wouldn't make sense. So, instead of what hurts the most its what's the most noticeable. So, its more like "Trots legs start to ache because its his legs being missing is very noticeable". There's also some symptoms they go through but ill write that down another day maybe. And yes, this is also going to be a Muirnnes story. Because why not. NOT MAINLY FOCUSED ON THEM but as a side story, because I can't get enough of it (also I'm curious on how this plays out-)

Let me know what you think of it so far! I'm curious to hear your thoughts if you have any. Ill definitely work on it more next week, as I have been having a lot of fun with this since I've been struggling a lot with coming up with an AU.

#still wakes the deep #swtd #innes swtd #muir swtd #gibbo swtd #trots swtd #rennick swtd #addair swtd #roper swtd #raffs swtd #o'connor swtd #alternate universe #au idea #my au

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inthehouseoffinwe · 7 days

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Hear me out. Maedhros would make an incredible high king not only for his own skill, but because he has six brothers keeping a close eye on everything.

Maedhros: The Leader. Inspiring. Strong. The strategist unbeaten. The one who survived what no other elf has. An incredibly strong personality that can bring even the most stubborn into his command. Undefeated in battle, feared by Morgoth himself. The diplomat who can bring together groups of people who hate each other to a common goal. A King in every sense of the word with a presence that sends the enemy scattering and elves thinking several times before daring to cross him.

Maglor: PR and Media. Songs that can turn stupid costly mistakes into tragic tales of heroism and strength spread far a wide until no one can remember a version of events other than what he says. A great right hand able to take over when needed. Commanding, responsible, charming, can get anyone to tell him anything and great at establishing diplomatic connections. The people person. Loud and powerful or the quiet shadow at Mae’s back, always watching. Reading the court before the elves even know what they think and exposing them with deceptively soft words.

Celegorm: The Hunter. Keeps the lands safe. Keeps them fed. Keeps an eye on the hunters and the army in general. You can’t escape him. You can’t hide from him. And with all the languages and tongues of birds and beats he speaks, he hears all.

Caranthir: The Tradesman. The money man. Keeps everything running, keeps an eye on the economy, great at establishing trade routes that leave the Noldor in the best position. Good with materials and knows exactly what they need when. For what time of year. When to trade it. Smart and shrewd, you can’t double cross him, and he’ll always get you the best prices.

Curufin: The forge master. The armourer. The architect. Nothing beats his work, and Mae’s armour especially is literally impenetrable. He’s the one who keeps the city at its peak, no stone at anything but perfect condition and weapons unlike any other. Hidden passages and secret stores. But he’s also a silver tongue like his eldest two brothers and he’s *very* good at convincing people, but also tearing them down and making sure they’ll never be a threat again. He can and will destroy your life before your eyes and you’ll never recover.

Ambarussa: The Spies. You don’t see them coming. You think Amrod’s gone only for Amras to take his place. Light footed and underestimated, they route out any schemes. They’re also the best connected to the green elves, so easily overlooked but smarter than most give them credit for. They’re the resident healers, and can make a poultice out of anything.

Celebrimbor: The Inventor. The one whose creativity knows no bounds. The creator of incredible Power infused devices like the rings to keep his people and family safe. A leader in his own right trained by his father and uncles who Maedhros is proud to call his heir.

Feel free to add your own thoughts!

#maedhros #maglor #celegorm #caranthir #curufin #amrod #amras #ambarussa #i have a lot of thoughts about this ok #and I’m definitely missing some stuff but oh well #feanorians #on high kings of the Noldor #silmarillion #tolkien

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discjude · 5 months

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Hi prequel community. If I said that I think the reason why there were only two prequels compared to the three that the other parts of the series got (3 TSY books and 3 TCY books) AND the reasons why Rhian's eye colour changes miraculously from Rise to Fall from green to blue (I think he's described as having green eyes in Rise? someone might have to correlate me on that) is because in Rise he's supposed to parallel TSY Sophie (green eyes, doubtfully good, multiple boyfriends) and then in Fall he's supposed to parallel Japeth (blue eyes, fratricidal, insane, gets cool one liners) how would you react to that

#the brackets make this unreadable im so sorry #but like you've got to hear me out on this right. right.#im cooking something I dont know what it is but its being cooked #the downsides ive spotted here is that I don't know if Rafal goes from TSY Agatha --> TCY Rhian that is a problem #but I might've just not spotted it #there's def some rhian sader in rafal cause of the whole “idc if you're evil and I'm the One (true king) we can still rule together”#and the whole Getting Murdered #I didn't pick up much of Agatha in him in Fall but the Sophie parallel was DEFINITELY there for Rhian #and “the One” being introduced as a parallel to “the One True King” makes way too much sense #this is also a convenient explanation for the wrong eye colours (though that also doesn't apply to Agatha. applies well to TCY twins though #is “cool one liners” solely a japeth trait? no. did he get the best ones? absoLUTELY. “welcome to hell then” okayyyyy go off #submitting this for peer review #there's so many little observations I have about prequels that I don't want to make full posts about #for example how the school masters' colours in the movie are the rise + fall ones #but whatever #sge #tsfgae #school for good and evil #the school for good and evil #fotsge #rotsge #sge prequels #japethposting #if anyone spots any more parallels that I missed pleaaaassseeee tell me I need to build a case file for this #rafal mistral #rhian mistral #oh also this was accidentally inspired by a wisteriaum post so thank you 4 that #MORE TAGS oh my god sorry I just remembered that Rhian gets described as serpentine/snakey a LOT in Fall that's def something

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sysig · 9 months

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It’s hard to put on a bright face, in spite of everything (Patreon)

#Doodles #Flowey #UT #Underfell #Just regular Underfell this time! His interactions with Fellplates!Gaster are fun but it was also a great springboard of thinking of Just He #I've never really considered Underfell!Flowey - I love that he's duplicitous and tragic and terrible <3 So a happy Flowey was just kinda #Fine I guess? Kinda missing his depth tho isn't he?#That's what I thought initially anyway hehe ♪ I think he could definitely hold some lies in his belly still ♫#I think no matter what version you end up with - no matter what stimuli you introduce to him - you're going to end up with Flowey™#He's still just a lost little soul with too much Determination and the ability to use it to his own ends - and he's bored. And he's Tired #Especially of getting killed all the time - that whole Kill or Be Killed thing got old Fast - faster than it did in Undertale anyhow #He's still just a fearful little dust-coward in there <3 And when he loses his ability to come back? Oh I think that'd scare him silly #I don't believe for a second that he'd be any more merciful to the player if he didn't think he'd get something from it #Protection - new things to see or feel - maybe he'd even have something of a capacity to be appreciative that'd be nice #And I do think he'd be genuinely helpful! But I think it'd have a Lot of the same undercurrents as what happens to him in the Genocide run #Depends a lot on the player as well - maybe the kinder you are to other monsters the better he'd behave #But would it be out of fear or cockiness of still surviving haha ♪ I just love when he's the worst! He's my favourite when he's the worst!#I think the big question would be Omega Flowey - I mean. Even someone kind-hearted like Asriel became what he did #And Asgore was willing to give himself up to become a True Monster as well - I just :| I don't think he'd fare well lol #Maybe the rules are different in Underfell I dunno but if the rules are the same-#But then again ♪ I also like it when he has the opportunity to be terrible and then doesn't. For whatever reason - selfish - selfless #He's just my favourite :) And it's fun to imagine him acting differently from the same source/different reasons hehe

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orcelito · 4 months

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Ykno when ur lookin at an artist and ur like "man, I want to commission art from You, Specifically"

I have something in mind for a scene that's coming up in ITNL (whenever I start writing again) that would be really cool, & I know Exactly who I'd want it by... except they don't have open commission slots 😭😭😭

I can be patient, though... I have been patient before...

#speculation nation #and if they dont open up commissions again well thats entirely their choice & i would never fault them for that #but. man. it would just look so cool in their style.#and so i wait... and maybe someday.... i can get it.#tho maybe i should type up my thoughts about the piece Now 😂 so i dont end up missing the window & being out on a waitlist #like what happened with my commission of vash's scars.#i did get it in tbh a pretty reasonable time frame despite being on a waitlist for a bit #but. ykno. the thing with popular artists opening commissions is that EVERYONE is gonna flock to them for it #so me taking a few hours to thoroughly describe the scars commission made it so the open slots filled up #but thankfully he was nice enough to put me on a waitlist 🥺🥺🥺#no guarantee for this other artist should they open commissions that id get a slot and/or on a waitlist #SO!!!!! i should be ready.#tho itd probably take much less time to describe it 😂 given that it has more to do with the pose /&@#* than smth as definite and detailed as scars reference.#just. 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔#now that ive had the thought i just want so badly to commission it hfksbfjd #the thing isnt even written!!! it's still chapters away!!!!!#but man. it sure would be cool huh.#oh well. i will simply be patient. hopefully before too long they will open their commissions again.#also yes me getting a commission for my fic again. idk there's just smth rly cool about having illustrations in the fic.#so i will wait and i will hope. that i can get this commission at some point.

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arolesbianism · 1 month

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Some au antag doodles

#keese draws #eternal gales #decided to finally try my hand at drawing au fydd #and decided to also draw the two I’ve already designed #I kinda chickened out hard with this au fydd design but that’s mostly because I don’t know how I’d go about implementing the big thing I cut #I wanted to include a nod at my old tazian (the species I recycled for fydd) worldbuilding by giving him some rainbow ‘hair’#but I definitely am not capable of drawing my vision well enough for my standards rn so maybe one day I’ll go for it but not rn #but long story short in the original version of the species those who were more middling height would have strands of or even entirely #rainbow hair which was like 90% me bullshitting but I have thought of a retroactive excuse #long story short most tazians would either be super tiny or like stupid tall and more middling height ones were rare #but one thing I realized lately is that all my tall ones had white hair and all my short ones had black hair #so the retroactive excuse is that the rainbow is a transitional period that usually indicates young age but can sometimes be permanent if #they don’t end up becoming properly tall #and I wanted to nod at that concept with au fydd since he’s 15 and is what would be considered pretty middling height #but that would mean figuring out how I’d wanna go about coloring that and that would make me lose it #for context fydd’s hair is supposed to be a smidge feathery #and also I like to keep my characters having somewhat manageable color pallets #not that I’m particularly good at that but I try #oh also second biggest failure of this drawing I made it so I couldn’t draw his other eye rip #he’s missing his other eye due to basically completely destroying it in the process of blowing up his original universe #the other two aren’t missing any major design elements that I can think fo fortunately #these three are all favorites of mine amongst the au antags they’re so silly #and by that I mean one of them is a grown ass adult torturing teenagers and the other two are heavily traumatized teenagers that are #helping said grown ass adult torture teenagers #well only one of them is properly helping owl is just here to meet her crush #she genuinely did not think the others would get as far and go as hard as they did #au fydd was the first member of the squad au bloom recruited and he is easily the most loyal to her #he’s also the only one au bloom even mildly gives an actual shit abt #au fydd went through a Lot in his original universe and is very ‘let’s burn it all down’ with his approach to helping #owl also went through a lot but she came out the other end just desperately wanting to stop fighting

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keeps-ache · 2 months

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so Apparently a game i was running on my computer (without a cooler thing for a good minute there, because i guess i thought i was invulnerable to heat) may or may not have burnt out some parts of my machine. and it's been a couple months since i've played it bc it just stopped working one day and i just had to accept that lmao- but anyway i'm booting the game up again today, Surely this will go differently :3

#just me hi #so Apparently my 'computer has a specific problem with overheating and burning out the processor parts. and it's getting updated in the #middle of august'#well dude that would have been fantastic to know 5 months ago when i was running a game i don't even have enough vram to play !! ljfvsfj #rip boopbedoop i had no idea you were suffering so hard fghsfh <//3 #but also. i have been pining. open my app. lfjshfv #//also man it's Cold in here #well. okay maybe not Cold but i'm chilly ! ! i'm chilly man lol #but what if i get too hot in a little bit...#the considerations we must deal with hfsh #//oh yea anyway if the game (de2tiny 2. idk why i just keep calling it 'the game' like i'm trapped in a simulation Lmao) doesn't work i'm #prolly gonna catch up on omn1scient.r.v :3 #yee !!#and then maybe doodle some more bl.s chapter stuff.. who knows !! :>#//oh i definitely want to make rootbeer floats today for Sure #last tuesday was national rootbeer flat day.. we've missed a momentous occasion guys #there is next year !! maybe i'll catch it then :D #yyeeea.. i should put down a reminder.. hfsh #/i left for 5 minutes rn Uh #why can i not use my calendar without linking to microsoft and then feeling lightly threatened when they ask to link w/ my gmail and say #'we'll be allowed to wipe your Email and your Drive and your Notes and we're Downloading Your Birthday'#girl help they want to steal my birthday #anyway i'm not doing that. no rootbeet float remidners for me then #wait.. i frogot about scheduled posts #i'm gonna go do that !! next year... >:3 #//alright so going to go about my things.. toobles ~+~

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narwhalandchill · 2 months

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okok so ya know that post i mentioned i was writing on some of the harbinger related leaks that cropped up recently and then mobile fucked me over by publishing the post early by gaslighting me with a "post" button that Clearly read "save" (draft) so i deleted it but managed to rescue the text that was there and promised to finish it and post it later and then its been 12 years anyway? yeah right 😭 Oh well.

BUT. finally. might as well do the thing now in honor of childes bday at the very least KJWJKWDJK. sorry it took this long lmao

jsyk these leaks predate our current natlan beta datamines and some of the questionable story leaks floating around so like, natlan plot wise they dont have shit to do w em there & not bringing up any that ive seen. but ya

(so . attempt 2: recent lazzo VA character direction leaks for the harbingers mostly in relation to childes role in the overall plot. bit ranty and gets Long but idek what yall expected. + ig just potential long term plot implications from these leaks given its the harbingers beware)

aka: mostly concerning the faction stuff + pulcinellas directions for now . if u havent seen em uhhhh

basically tldr: according to (and assuming its not outdated) some information accessed by leakers recently originally provided for the VAs applying to voice the harbingers in lazzo, the group is allegedly split between two factions of "conservatives" and "radicals" . like thats the first thing

now as to what those labels rly mean ppl were overall speculating that it might be sth along the lines of. conservatives as the tsaritsa loyalists who stand united and for the organization and her majestys goals above all (OR alternatively just like. a more cautious take on How to approach the toppling celestia deal) VS those whose true ambitions, loyalty and methods they are willing to turn to are more of a wild card situation . and their allegiances are equally volatile in turn . & i will say imo the radicals are also most likely much less of an united group compared to the conservatives given uhhhhhhh. well you will see

so conservatives are: capitano, columbina, pulcinella, sandrone

radicals are: dottore, arle (see the "radicals might not like each other that much"), pantalone

pierro is neutral, childe is unknown/undecided according to the leaks HOWEVER. his positioning next to the radicals in the shot of lazzo with the harbingers standing around signoras coffin split along those same faction lines found in the leaks may indeed suggest something Interesting regarding his penultimate choice . if it Indeed is intended to be meaningful that he as an "unknown" just happened to take That side of the coffin alongside the 3 confirmed radicals according to this info . like how Curious

And i just. okay okay i have to be Honest theres like. SUCH a toxic childish taking-fandom-grievances-too-seriously part to me eyeing the possibility of ajax turning out to be a radical thats just like. dawei lets this happen and i WILL be the WORLDS most obnoxious fucking bitch about it bc . Listen

i. Have. ALWAYS. thought it obvious as FUCK . that a guy whose ambition WILL NOT stop until it is the very WORLD that lies defeated at his feet. will NEVER be satiated by what the fatui can offer him . like if he really is a radical. i can CONFIDENTLY state that i saw that shit coming in TWENTY FUCKING TWENTY and that Every single doubter owes me So much fucking money 💀💀💀💀💀💀 jkjk but. Duuuude. ever since this faction stuff dropped.... i cant stop thinking abt it

like i just. cannot stand the way its been turned into this . INDOMITABLE 100% factual absolute Truth that CANNOT be challenged. in the fandom. that childe is a tsaritsa fanboy loyalist devout worshipper who couldnt even fuckimg FATHOM leaving his allegiance to her behind . when its been . SPELLED OUT to yall in his fucking profile SINCE 1.1 .

bc like. Listen up. Repeat after me. ik its scary and new after 4 years of Exclusively hearing takes where like childe would rather spontaneously combust to the beat of snezhnayas national anthem while begging for repentance than ever stop taking orders from uhhhh a god. Who he definitely worships devoutly as a god despite 0 evidence on any religious piety on his part Trust (like. ive. Always thought his voiceline for her has been the opposite? its very much. Not how youd speak of divinity. his regard for her is Personal and relates to the tsaritsa as an individual, not a god inherently deserving of worship)

like ik this is a big thing and scary but just. Say the words with me here. It only stings once .deep breaths. okay 1 2 3

"But becoming Tartaglia was far from his end goal. To someone who sought to conquer the world, this was but a tiny step in his journey."

YUP.

BECOMING TARTAGLIA. BECOMING A HARBINGER. SWEARING AN OATH OF LOYALTY TO THE TSARITSA. A TINY. STEP. A TINY FUCKING STEP. AND HES BEEN AWARE OF IT BEING LIKE THIS THE ENTIRE TIME.

THIS HAS BEEN TEXT FOUND IN GAME THERE FOR NEARLY FOUR FUCKING YEARS NOW . AND PPL STILL THINK AJAX ISNT CAPABLE OF SURPASSING AND ABANDONING THE TSARITSA THE SECOND THE BENEFITS THEY OFFER HIM FALL SHORT OF THE EXPONENTIAL GROWTH OF HIS POWER AND AMBITION AND WHAT IT TAKES TO SATIATE HIM .

like im SORRY contrary to maybe popular belief and despite my persistent frustrations w this fandoms approach to ajax sometimes i Do in fact feel actively mean and unreasonably harsh calling 97% of childe "fans" functionally illiterate or at the very least intentionally obtuse to the point its beyond fucking parody in how ridiculous it gets but like. if THIS isnt what a complete and utter failure of basic reading comprehension is I DONT KNOW WHAT IS . like. DUDE 😭😭😭😭😭😭 what IS IT with these people its like genuinely fucking incomprehensible to me how CRITICAL shit about his character like this goes COMPLETELY ignored as if it hasnt been established since Day fucking one its unreal . Unreal 💀

and like. i get bitchy and snappy abt it i know its not the best look always but man its sth thats genuinely upsetting to me too bc . THIS is the fucking dude thats possessed me for the last 4 years THIS is what i love about him his potential to surpass Every Single Boundary that he has begun his journey confided within. that he will transcend it all and surpass his own limits with sheer fucking willpower over and over again until even the few he truly idolized and respected like the tsaritsa and capitano are suddenly so distant and irrelevant compared to the heights He has reached out for in his hunger....... its so peak like THIS is whats had me in a death grip for all this time

and like. for THAT guy that mr childe ajax tartaglia the REAL thing to barely even. Exist. in the minds of such a majority of the fandom its just fucking crushing sometimes. like i wanna appreciate all this abt him man i wanna share all my brainrot abt him and how this dude consumes my every waking thought but then borderline every single comment i see and popular take on him is just oh my pookie wookie babie girl would Never be able to betray tsaritsa ever etc etc etc and just.... Sigh

anyway overshare over sorry for that. yeah my ADHD makes me irrationally attached to my hyperfixations its kinda cringe .

do catch me kissing this man on the mouth Immediately the second his ambition surpasses the fatui and he goes beast mode fr fr on Everyone tho 🥰🥰 dyke license lost forever but itll be worth it

also real talk im like fairly convinced at least like 78% of the omgggg hes forever loyal to the tsaritsa gang are mostly like stuck in this mindset of like. omgggg hed Never Betray Her bc he doesnt like those who break promises uwu and its like. since when did the possibility of ajax outgrowing the stage where the fatui offer him anything worthwhile automatically equate to him betraying her wholesale and completely dropping any and all respect he had for her or sth. like yeah i do agree to an extent that it could end up p uncharacteristic (at least w/o proper plot setup or reasoning) for him to pull off like a complete disney twist villain backstab out of nowhere there but??? thats not rly whats going to automatically happen either???

(nvm that like a considerable portion of these same ppl were prolly writing "omgg ajax my poor victim MUST betray the evil tsaritsa" fics in 1.1 when everyone had the idea in their heads that he hates his job and is only doing it bc his family is held hostage and is also 17 bc of certified english localization moment. but i digress this is just unreasonably petty and im being a loser by not letting this shit go 2 this day💀💀)

bc like. if you ask me. the Interesting thing abt ajax and the possibility of being a radical IS that if hes going to refuse to follow an order or step out of line to follow his own path however it goes. its Not going to be personal. its not gonna be this big dramatic edgelord turncoat villainous moment to him. itll be straightforward. matter of fact. easy as breathing. because if he has moved past each and every benefit the fatui can even fathom offering him. its only natural that he progresses beyond them. thats just how his unquenchable ambition Works. how his black hole of a never-ending desire to devour and crush all in his path operates. its not personal. its not something you can change. its inevitable. he is a force of nature when it comes to the drive burning at the core of his soul.

like i Really dont think hes ever going to backstab the tsaritsa in some dirty play fashion??? if anything its only fitting that hes going to look her In the eye and go. oh my bad. i dont think our agreement serving a mutual benefit really holds ground anymore. apologies. like ofc its going to be something he handles while staying true to the person hes been all this time. kind of a bad guy and perfectly willing to own up to it. selfish and arrogant and with his sights set steadfast on a goal No one will get him to sway from.

and then he elopes with the narwh-------------- yes kill me

basically i just. dont get this whole perceived and persistent incompatibility between the idea of. ajax being a radical (whatever that ends up meaning in the story. IF these lazzo materials remain accurate) yet remaing the same guy we know and love. like guys. ARLE. is a radical. and has all but directly confessed to considering the survival of the house her greatest priority over any loyalty to the fatui and her majesty. yet she STILL regards her with respect and continues to fulfill her duties as a harbinger as expected for the time being. despite her full awareness of this loyalty being on shakier ground and surely making contingencies on the side for the future for When she sees it is time for her organization to sever the ties to the tsaritsa.

like Thats what i mean when i say its always been completely reasonable and even predictable to me that ajax would outgrow the fatui and how that has jack shit to do with his character suddenly doing some wild 180 in order to do so. and why this potentially significant visual alignment he has with the radicals in lazzo isnt surprising at all. bc if it doesnt fundamentally change who arle is (and doesnt make her a dottore fan) that she is ultimately someone whose loyalty to the organization comes second to her house. why would childe be any different lmao.

but like yes if he turns out to be a radical i will be soooooo obnoxious over it jkwjkawdjkwajkwdakjwdjkwdjkdwjk bc like im NOT lying this has been one of the Clearest trajectories ive expected from his arc All This Time . no matter which form it might eventually take in terms of. is it him and His growth initiating the split. or is it a betrayal from or a loss of faith in the tsaritsa herself that kickstarts it. if its canon? yeah i Saw that shit coming and you should all be scared of who ill become if dawei proves me right Again ill be the Worst

Phew that sure went way overboard but yes radical ajax advocacy group in here 100% . and overall even tho i mostly care abt him i Do think this faction split is inherently v fucking interesting and ajax being unknown is just. i wonder if itll end up being significant at some critical moment that his faction leanings are unknown slash undefined at the moment............... where the scales are about to tip and its by his hand that some key moment gets its turning point......... hmmmmmmm

(also its just. before these leaks we got "columbina is conservative" as an out of context statement Before the faction stuff and its still so fucking funny bc ppl were just like. wow i cant believe shes homophobic)

now. pulcinella time

so among the VA direction cards that leaked was his. and like if u didnt see them urself (not gonna post any here. hoyo lawyers love striking Any hoyo copyrighted media in all posts that have leaks in em even if its not an actual leak which this is lol) the setup is basically. theres a few overall notes on each of the harbingers like age, demeanor, characterization and then 3 sample lines of dialogue as well as notes further elaborating when & why this is being said and with what sort of vibe.

and his are. Well. you know how i started this post out being like on god dawei if you go and fatten my ego any further by Specifically vindicating me myself and i & the kinda things id prefer in genshins story and childes role going forward . Personally????

Anyway funny thing as it happens. IF (and admittedly thats a major if.) this VA direction doc from pulcinella holds up. and there isnt like a hidden scheming menacing side to him that wasnt brought up in the lazzo files. in that case . it sure is looking like pulcinella is just. a bit over the top in public but privately genuinely an overworked well-meaning pragmatic guy who deeply cares for and is truly protective of those important to him. INCLUDING. yes you know who and his family. NOTHING in the doc whatsoever implying anything sinister to it. nor wrt pulcinellas character overall.

and i just. nothing personal to scara fans yall are cool and ur guy is too i just simply. Cannot. guys can you IMAGINE being so much of an edgelord cynical embarrassment puppetfailure that ur own mommy issues make you physically incapable of Not assuming the worst of pulcinella caring for childes family leading to YEARS of ppl being CONVINCED hes gonna be this major fucking villain for ajax in the snezhnaya arc i . LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

(my scara liker indulgence Ends the second hat guy speaks shit abt My man if you havent noticed. yeah WHO called who naive and stupid???)

like. if the Plot twist in the snezhnaya arc is setting pulcinella up to be this ominous figure that has ulterior motives w childes family and him overall????? only for him to be just. genuinely well-intentioned. oh my fucking god PLEASE let it happen PLEASE bc the entire concept of that whole plotline existing without said plot twist is just soooooo bland and fucking boring to me lol subverting it is just chef kiss

& sure this leak is. very limited in scope it doesnt automatically eliminate pulcinella manipulating childe and/or limiting what information he gets and all. and i genuinely have made my peace with the probable existence of this plot thread w arles SQ already before this whole thing happened but MAN ill be SO fucking happy if this means they might abandon/subvert it altogether like. let him just have a nice supportive mentor figure in his life in the fatui man 😭😭😭

pulcinella if u really just are a nice person ultimately. you TRULY are my goat o777 saving my man from bland family-is-hostage-waa storylines i have Such respect

anyway u could say its not possible for pulcinella to be like. fully a good guy since arles SQ already showcased him being unreliable w information regarding arle but honestly. i kinda disagree. bc like Especially with the faction thing in mind its not unreasonable at all in my eyes that given the Facts of what peruere did. that pulcinella despite not being this scheming schemer brainwashing ajax or whatever. would Genuinely hold a very negative opinion of arlecchino. and convey that to childe. bc like. pulcinella as stated above is in the conservative side of the harbingers. and arlecchino to the outside eyes rly did like. murder a harbinger and her own "mother" and siblings of the house. like do we even know that the harbingers are Aware of how crucabena ran her hunger games death tournament situation to begin with? and Why peruere killed her????

like. if we assume pulcinella doesnt know those things. and that crucabena in all likelihood was if nothing else then presumably a harbinger that was very loyal to the tsaritsa and very consistent. then from that position. of COURSE. youd consider arle a complete downgrade in terms of reliability . she IS a wild card she IS not someone a careful politician like pulcinella would regard highly At All. So like. i dont think when he gives childe the impression that arle is batshit insane and tells him of her (VERY REAL) murderous deeds. i dont think that would automatically equate to pulcinella Knowingly lying and misleading ajax . bc it seems fairly reasonable that pulcinella just genuinely thinks that lowly of her and thus would OBVIOUSLY want his protege not to involve himself with such people.

bc like thats the other thing. its not just arle. in pulcinellas VA notes and the line he has on ajax there. its very clear that he is actively trying to keep him away and shield him from ALL the harbingers . as he still has to mature and grow into someone who will have a chance at gaining their respect proper on his own. so like. if pulcinella thinks its best for ajax to remain away EVEN from the harbingers he himself considers GOOD to NEUTRAL influences and reliable colleagues. of COURSE hed make Extra sure that ajax is staying away from the knave whom pulcinella Actively considers a shitty fit for the job and an unreliable flight risk of a harbinger 💀💀💀💀

(nvm the way arle actively BOTH confirms pulcinellas distrust to be justified by saying the tsaritsa isnt a priority to her and the house is AND actively admits that he prefers other people believe misleading shit about her. so like fym pulcinella thinking the worst of her is surprising)

so like is pulcinellas pov of her at best Highly biased and lacking critical context on Why she merked so many of her sibs and crucabena??? and thus served as an inherently misleading insight on her character when he conveyed it to ajax??? absolutely. but i also dont think hes necessarily lying at all when it comes to perceiving arle in such a negative way so its less. oh i want ajax to remain in the dark forever so he is easy 2 manipulate. more just. thats his Opinion dude and ofc he wants his protege to follow in his stead and not get any poor influences from people like her. it still makes for interesting development & possible tension that childe Is questioning his views on things by making his own judgements about arle but. ya know. its not black and white.

but yeaaaa to be clear me vastly preferring the possibility of scara just being a cringelord unreliable narrator and this whole pulcinella-is-masterminding-dubious-things getting subverted & hes just a guy is just a personal thing lmao. this is pretty old material and far from all-encompassing in terms of Who hoyo wants pulcinellas character to be and all the layers he might hide. im just really 👁️👁️👁️ at the way this particular description of his character seems to be giving off vibes that they in fact Arent actually going all the way into the ulterior motives bad bad ajax watch out pulcinella and its just. listen theres way more interesting shit for ajax to be doing in the endgame plot than some generic plot like that!!!!!!!11! sorry!!!1 so id 1000% want it this way instead lmao

but we shall see where it goes. at the very least if this desc of pulcinella holds Any ground at all then it does disqualify the most extreme version of hes just basically evil manipulator mastermind so like. im already super happy with that lmao

but ya . sorry this took me forever to actually finish jwjkwdjkawjkwd these leaks r kinda old news by now rip .

#man.................................. when will i ever learn to say things in a concise manner abt this man................#imagine the post output i could have. The consistency . yet JWJKJKWDAJKWDJKWDJKWDKJWKJWA #oh also. capitanos sample dialogue from the same group was like. metal as shit i Cannot wait for him in natlan #columbinas desc was the kind where its like. hmmm. depending on VA direction it will be hit or miss for me personally i expect #but if they handle that energy well she will definitely be a Presence for sure #Also i Will say. even if itd put pulcinella in a way more morally questionable and grey light 100% . i STILL think #that even w him and the harbingers Aware of crucabenas antics . it mightve been sth hed consider a means to an end situation #where pulcinella would STILL regard crucabena as the more reliable and better harbinger despite the fuck em kids parental style #bc as Long as she was unquestionably loyal and reliable. hed prefer her as the knave over peruere who very Clearly already demonstrated #her willingness to 'bite the hand that feeds' so to speak. EVEN if the HotH was a dystopian shitshow. so like #idt even pulcinella knowing at least some of the truth abt the house under crucabenas leadership would necessarily just #stop seeing arle in negative light. but like him being aware of it would def make him more morally grey. in an interesting way but ya #i mean he has to tolerate dottore being in the organization. tolerating crucabena as long as she brought results rly isnt a stretch yaknow #even if he despised her methods overall. so theres that too.#genshin #rambles #childeposting

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