#it's weird cause on one hand yes they are confident & prideful in their abilities

[sungracd]

what’s peculiar about your soul ?

YOUR SOUL IS ... WARM   It draws those nearby closer to it ,  like a pleasantly crackling fireplace .  It leaves some enamored ,  others delighted ,  but everyone leaves having been uplifted by its momentary presence in their lives .  They speak of you for days to come ⸺ of the way you’ve changed them .  You cannot figure out what to make of that . . . of the fact that ,  even in death ,  others are still placated — enlightened — by your very presence .

tagged by :  @demonpunch  ( thanks!! mwah ♡ ) tagging :  you!  if you haven’t done it yet

[queen-of-the-night-lights]

Beautiful (Omega x Mom!Reader x Bad Batch)

A/N: So, I have been seeing all of these other stories with a few scenes of the reader being a mom towards Omega and then the rest of the story being with a member of the batch. While I love those my brain went “ Give this little girl done love and support” and I came up with this story which is basically Omega and the reader just hanging out by themselves. ( I also left the ending open so you can imagine the batch member of your choosing😉)

Warnings: None/fluff

Plot: The reader does Omegas make-up for the first time.

“ What are you doing?” The young girl asked innocently. She caused you to jump slightly, it has taken a while to get used to a new voice around the ship. “ People on this planet wear a large amount of make-up so I decided to wear some while I go out to get food and supplies. Here I would stand out much more if I didn’t wear any, opposed to if I did.” You explained brushing on some finishing touches. Meanwhile Omega just watched you, she has never seen anything even close to what you were doing, but then again she didn’t know much about anything outside Kamino.

When you finished you turned to the child and asked “ What do you think?” She smiled and said “ It looks good. A little weird because you look a little different, but still good.” She gave a soft chuckle “ Well thank you, I appreciate your honesty.” Just as you were about to put your makeup away Omega chimed in “ Can I try some on?” You turned back to the girl as she gave you a curious and pleading look. With a small smile on your face you approved with a “ Sure. Come sit down.”

You stood up from your vanities chair to let her sit in it hoping it would make her feel special, in some weird way that’s how you thought of the chair. Pulling a stool close so that you could sit while helping her. “ Lets see...” You said studying Omegas face, you didn’t want to put too much makeup on her since this is probably her first time putting anything on her face. While doing this you noticed many qualities she did share with other clones, making Techs statement a few weeks ago resonate with you. She of course was very different from Regs just like the rest of the batch was, but little traits here and there are where you can tell they are related.

“ Okay so, since I don’t want to put too much on you just incase you have a poor reaction to the makeup, we are just going to do yours a little lighter than mine.” You explained and she nodded in acknowledgment before asking “ What do you mean by reaction?” You then explained how some makeup isn’t compatible with people’s skin and how sometimes people have allergic reactions. After noticing the slight nervousness on the kids face you soothed her by telling her that you only use hypoallergenic makeup and the likelihood of her having a reaction would be very low, but you just want to be careful. After that reasoning she seemed to have gone back to her usual curious nature. “ So usually we would start with foundation, that this part that covers the entire face...” you gestured a circle around yours as you continued “ ...but since I don’t have your exact skin tone of foundation , we are going to use this powder.”

Showing her the brush and translucent powder. “ Now let me know at anytime if you are uncomfortable. Then I will stop and we will make sure everything is okay.” With that you started gently brushing the powder along her face. She giggled at first “ It tickles.” You smiled at her adorable laugh “ Yes it does at first, but I need you to try to hold still the best you can okay?” She then nodded and you continued. The brush was big and soft she had never felt anything like it before. It was a nice feeling as you gently brushed and stippled along her face. You then decided to skip the eye shadow primer and things such as that. Those are for another time when you could teach her longer and had more makeup for her to try.

“ Next, I’m going to have you close your eyes and we are going to use this brush with these two colors and put them right on your eyelids. After that I’m going to wet this brush and put a little line of eyeliner on. That’s this around the base of my eyelashes.” You explained closing your own eyes. She smiled and closed her eyes trusting you not to hurt her. You and the boys always made sure that she was comfortable, no matter what. However there was this different feeling she had towards you than with the others. While she trusted them and loved being around them, there was this different kind of feeling of care you gave off. Maybe it was that “mother” feeling the others told her you had. You just seemed to know the right thing to say and how to say it. You also knew exactly what everyone needed when sometimes they didn’t know themselves.

“ (Y/N), can I ask you something?” As you switched colors you replied in a calm yet reassuring tone “ Of course.” “ How did you learn to do makeup?” You smiled at her question as memories started to fill your head. Taking a breath you explained “ I used to watch my mom. My mother she was, beautiful. With or without make up she had the ability it make a transport ship stop in its tracks. She had these two friends and sometimes they would all put their makeup on together before they would go out. They had this setup where they would put all their mirrors, like this one, all together in a row in front of this huge window we had at my family’s house. And from there I would watch them and think ‘ I can not wait until I am old enough to play with this stuff.’ “ As you finished your story you told Omega to open her eyes and instructed her on the next step. “ It’s all coming together now! This next part is a little scary, but I promise I will not poke you in the eye. I’m going to take this mascara wand and gently put this on your eyelashes.” Omega nodded an okay, then you explained “ Okay, I’m going to need to open your eyes really really wide and look right here.”

You pointed right at where your neck meets your collar bone and quickly put on the mascara. You remember how uncomfortable you were the first time you had it put on for you. Omega seemed a little more relieved after you put it on as well. She then blinked and fluttered her eyes as they adjusted to the new sensation. She then looked back up to you with your soft smile still adorned on your face and asked “ Do you think I’m pretty?” A little taken back you then confidently answered “ Yes Omega, you are very pretty. You have these big, round, and bright eyes, a cute nose...” you said giving her a light tap on her nose to emphasize your point. That caused her to scrunch it up and let out a little laugh. “ And you have this amazing smile.”

Omega had a small blush creep on to her face as you complimented her. You can’t imagine her life back on Kamino, even though she probably treated differently from the rest, you knew that her life, her beginning of her childhood must have been hard. Yet she almost always seemed happy. “ Alright here’s where the hard decision comes in, for your lips do you want a solid color or something shiny.” You said holding a lipstick and a lipgloss in each hand. “ Definitely the shiny one.” She said pointing to the one in your right hand.

“ Excellent choice! Now I’m going to ask you to make a really weird faces. Kinda make your lips go like this.” Omega then mimicked the pursing of your lips making sure she was doing it right. You always thought it was cute when she would try to do the same actions as you all did in the ship, her favorite person to mimic was Hunter, but you couldn’t blame her. “ Alright, now we blot. We want to make sure that our lipstick or lipgloss doesn’t stick or wear off to easily.” Grabbing a tissue of the vanity and showing her what you wanted her to do. Making you lips form a line and gently putting them together, but not actually putting the tissue in your mouth.

Once Omega finished you stood up and asked “ Are you ready to take a look?” She nodded her head with excitement and you spun the chair around to have her face the mirror. You saw her eyes widen and get bigger, if that was even possible, as they filled with wonder. A small whisper of her exclaiming “ woah” left her as she looked at the makeup you did. A bit of pride and affection towards the girl swelled in your chest as the girl copied the head tilts you did earlier as you finished your own makeup. “ Beautiful.”

She smiled as she continued to admire your work “ Thank you!” She exclaimed with a beaming smile looking up at you. “ You are very welcome, but you have to remember it is never the makeup that makes you look pretty, it’s how you treat others and what is on the inside that makes you beautiful.” When you finished that statement Omega turned the chair around and gave you a hug. With tears pricking your eyes you hugged her back. You felt bad for everyone that lived on Kamino, you remember the first time you hugged the others and they were a little taken back and confused by the gesture. Omega however was different due to her young age and hugged you quite often. You wished her the best in the galaxy and wanted to protect her and your boys, your family from any danger.

The hugged lasted a while but you didn’t care, what the two of you didn’t know was that someone was watching you from the doorway. His heart swelled at the interaction between the two of you. He wasn’t there long, he had only been standing there a few minuets. Everyone seemed to have changed a little when Omega came on to the team, and while you didn’t change as much as the others your personality amplified. The way you are able to take care of them became more noticeable, you just had this amazing way with all of them and your ability to care so much.

Everything you did was amazing, making sure they we’re rested, making sure that they had eaten, that they didn’t overwork themselves, reassuring them when they had doubts, and giving hope. He started feeling different about you after the first few months of you being with them. Back then he didn’t know how to describe what he was feeling, but now he knew. He had fallen in love with you. Seeing you with Omega assured him that you would always be there with his family and that you wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt them. He wanted a life with you, his brothers, and Omega. No one will ever take that dream away from him, ever.

[narutogwriting]

A Kunai is Not a Knife

⋇✦ Pairing

Kakashi Hatake x Reader

⋇✦ Genre

fluff; one shot

⋇✦ CW

none

⋇✦ Length

1.6k

⋇✦ Request by @kakashiswilloffire : can I request kakashi or shikamaru trying and failing to cook dinner for a gn!reader? like never used a knife that wasn't a kunai but wants to do something nice for their partner?

Kakashi was a more than capable shinobi. Son of the white fang, he was a legend in his own right. Being one of the youngest ninja to graduate the academy at age five, he went on to become a chunin at just age six. By the time of the third ninja war, Kakashi was a jonin, trusted to lead his own team.

He was Kakashi of the Sharingan, the copy cat ninja. Kakashi joined the ANBU, was the third Hokage’s right hand man for a time, and feared across the nations.

He was strong, he was intelligent, he was good with a kunai.

But for the life of him, Kakashi could not use a food knife.

“Shit shit shit,” he cursed, shoving his now bleeding thumb in his mouth, tasting the metallic on his tongue.

With his free hand, he grabbed the remote, pausing the cooking show he was watching that was attempting to teach him how to make dinner. It was a little out of his league as a person that survived mostly on takeout, but Kakashi had been optimistic and confident in his abilities.

Because really, how hard could cooking be?

And yes, okay, he absolutely could activate his sharingan, watch the cooking show--memorizing every meticulous movement of the chef on the television--and prepare the most decadent meal you’d ever tasted all from the comfort of your home.

But at this point, it was a matter of pride.

Kakashi was a grown man. He could cook dinner for his girlfriend. It really shouldn’t be this hard.

That’s what he told himself as he sucked on his stinging thumb. He’d tried to chop the vegetables as quickly and diligently as the chef had done and subsequently cut into his finger. Luckily it was a superficial injury, something he would forget about in the next ten minutes, but the point stood that there was no reason he should be so *bad at this.

It was a knife for god’s sake; Kakashi was basically born holding one. Given they were different tools for very different purposes, but when it came down to it, a knife was a knife. Or so he thought.

Sighing, Kakashi glanced at the clock. You’d be off your shift soon and then heading home. It was your ninth consecutive shift at the hospital. A small factory fire left many injured--thankfully not fatally--and so you had been putting in overtime to make sure the patients were taken care of and your coworkers were not left stranded without help.

You took your work very seriously, and Kakashi loved and appreciated that about you. You were such a hard worker, and it made Kakashi proud to call you his. But as such, you’d been obviously exhausted, spending all your time home asleep, and Kakashi was sure you weren’t taking adequate enough breaks to nourish yourself properly.

He just wanted to do something nice for you. Coming home to a nice home cooked meal and a warm bath waiting seemed like the perfect way to kick off the four days off you had coming your way.

“Alright, Kakashi. You can do this…” He muttered in an attempt to hype himself up. He picked up the aforementioned tool from hell, taking it to the sink to sanitize it of his blood.

He turned back to the onions then, pressing play on the tv and trying to dice them into tiny pieces just like the chef was doing so easily. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get them into small enough pieces. He knew you loved the taste onions provided, but didn’t like the sensation of chewing them.

It was a weird thing you were particular about, something so small it would be easy to pass over and forget about, but Kakashi knew everything about you, noticed every small quirk and committed it to memory.

Like the way you would read a book, and if a character winked, you winked instinctively as well. If someone came up and startled you, you would yell “ow” even though you weren’t hurt. You had a dimple only in your left cheek, and the only time it was visible was when you were especially happy, and when you were anxious, you’d swipe your fingers over your lips.

Kakashi noticed and loved everything about you.

Which was why he needed this damn onions to just *get smaller.* They were too big, you’d definitely taste them, and it would ruin the whole meal! He was determined to get them just tiny enough to taste without having to chew them.

“Could I juice them…?” Kakashi wondered to himself as he tossed the horrid knife on the counter in annoyance. Maybe squeezing the onions really tightly over the meal would add enough flavor.

Deciding he’d get back to those later, he grabbed another knife and pulled a pomegranate from the fridge. Kakashi never actually had a pomegranate before, and he’d only seen you eat one once or twice.

You had a thing about pomegranates; they were your favorite fruits, but you would only eat them on special occasions as a way to reward yourself--just another one of your little quirks.

So Kakashi was going to cut one open and get all the juicy seeds in a bowl for you as a special treat.

Unfortunately, because Kakshi didn’t eat pomegranates on his own and didn’t see you eat them often enough, he had no idea just how messy they could really be.

*Screw the knife,* Kakashi decided to himself. *I’m a shinobi. I can do this without that stupid thing.*

So Kakashi, in all his *genius, pulled his Kunai from his leg strap. They used to play games like this in the academy; they called it fruit ninja. The goal was to slice a fruit in the air with your kunai as concisely as possible.

Kakashi always won.

He tossed the pomegranate high in the air, ready to dice the fruit and have it up for serving. Quick as a flash of lightning, the Kunai struck through the juicy pomegranate, promptly causing it to *explode--juices and seeds and all.

And what was also unfortunate was Kakashi was moving so quickly, already prepared to slice the fruit, that his hand moved faster than his brain, and he sliced at the pomegranate three more times before he could stop himself.

Juices and seeds splattered the entire kitchen covering the counters, the cupboards, the floors, and Kakashi.

You walked in at that moment, greeted with what appeared to be a murder scene with a defeated Kakashi standing in the middle of it.

You stared in quiet shock for a moment as you took in Kakashi’s expression. You’d never seen him look so forlorn in your life. His arms were hanging idly at his side, the kunai slipping from his grasp as it clanked against the floor.

You couldn’t help it; you laughed.

Kakashi startled, eye’s flickering to you in a panic.

“Y-you’re home!” He stuttered out. “You’re early! I thought you’d be another hour or so… I was just…” He looked helplessly around the disastrous kitchen. “Just trying to make you dinner.” Kakashi sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head, disappointed with himself.

When you laughed again, he peeked one eye open, shooting a small glare in your direction. “I’m so glad you’re taking pleasure in my suffering…” He muttered dramatically.

Rolling your eyes, you sauntered over to Kakashi, throwing your arms around his neck as you grinned up at him. “You know, I’m a little relieved,” you teased him with a smile. “I thought that you were good at *everything. It’s nice to know you have your flaws, too.”

Behind his mask, you could practically see Kakashi’s pout.

Placing a kiss on his cheek, you pulled back to survey the damage. “I’m sorry; I have to ask… I know pomegranates are messy, but what the hell happened here?”

With a groan, Kakashi shook his head, finally moving to grab a rag. “I… I played fruit ninja with the pomegranate.”

“You… what?”

“I played fruit ninja. With the pomegranate.”

“What does that mean?”

“I threw the pomegranate.”

“You threw the pomegranate?”

“I threw the pomegranate. Then I sliced it.”

“With your kunai?”

“With my kunai.”

“You threw the pomegranate and then you sliced it with your kunai?”

“That’s correct.”

You once again burst into laughter. You couldn’t help it! The whole idea was so ridiculous and especially coming from Kakashi.

He groaned again before you wrapped your arms around him. Reluctantly, he returned the gesture. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever tried to do for me.” You giggled. “Now… Can you teach me how to play?”

And so that’s how the rest of your night went. It wasn’t the way Kakashi had planned for the night to go, but it was one to remember just the same. Instead of a romantic dinner and relaxing bath, the two of you made an even bigger mess in the kitchen, slicing all the fruit you could manage.

You did your best to teach Kakashi to slice and season food with a regular knife. Boiling the water was about the only thing he *didn’t mess up, but it was endearing.

Later, bellies full, laying in bed, leaving the kitchen to be cleaned tomorrow, you cuddled comfortably into Kakashi’s side, placing light kisses on his shoulder as you drifted off to sleep. Kakashi held you tightly in his arms, content. He was a capable shinobi, a legend in his own right. His accomplishments listed on and on. He couldn’t cook for shit, but he made up for it by loving you.

[lightsaberupmybutt]

A Friendly Massage (2) - Luke Skywalker x FemReader

part one is here!

This imagine is over 5000, this imagine is over 5000 words, this imagine is over 5000 words. i don't know why this is so long, i just wanted to write a quick little part two and its 5000 words of tension and smut and I'm not even sorry, you did this to yourselves.

warnings: SMUT was a tiny slice of oral (male receiving ) on the side, enjoy.

Day to day life carried on as it always had after your run in with Luke the other night, however you knew something had shifted.

 And he certainly felt it too. Your usual good mornings and friendly waves in passing were met with stuttered, awkward greetings and a gaping lack of eye contact. It was obvious that something had to be said to resolve the growing tension between the two of you, but you'd be damed if you were the one to address the elephant in the room. Besides, it was HIS rather large, excitable elephant that had causes the issue in the first place. 

So you waited, biding your time and convincing yourself that on some level this refusal to acknowledge your lust was actually just subliminal jedi training. patience is important right? that seemed to be something Yoda would approve of? abstinence? Although he probably wouldn't be proud of your solo late night escapades that were fuelled by fantasies of what the Blonde Jedi would have done to you if he had just had a smidge more confidence; how he would have looked underneath you while you rode him, unraveling with your every bounce, lips parted whispering your name repeatedly like its the only word he had ever been taught. You wondered if he even liked being ridden, or was he the more dominant of the two of you ? you doubted it, as much as he showed great strength and leadership in the training hall, Skywalker didn't give off the sexual prowess of someone who was largely well experienced, it made sense that he wouldn't be left with much time for bedding girls around you know, saving the whole entire planet from his own fathers borderline demonic regime. 

Truly, though, you had never felt like he wouldn't know what he was doing. Especially after that massage he had given you, even if it was a tad brief. Like knew how to use his hands, even if one of them was mechanical. You found yourself wondering if he used them differently, if he happened to have more dexterity in one set of fingers than the other, how that would feel if those fingers where being put to use inside of your tight - 

“Y/N? have you been listening to a word I've just said” 

Youre whipped out of your thoughts by an all too familiar voice as you vainly attempt to stop your cheeks from turning pink in front of your fellow Padwan’s. You stumble to find you words while simultaneously praying Luke hasn't decided to use his weird mind reading ability in the last 10 minutes of your brain wander or so.

“Sorry sir” is all you can offer, as you truly have not the faintest of ideas of what he was just talking about. You don't miss the way luke stiffens when you use the term of authority toward him, a trick you normally would not exploit however unluckily for him, he caught you completely of guard. He lets out an exaggerated sigh before he returns to pacing,

“You can all return to your activities” He dismisses you all, and you scurry to the door with the others before he adds, 

“not you, Y\N”

ah shit. 

He waits until everyone has exited and the door has shut behind then before he turns to you,

“Whats up with you lately?” his teaching voice is gone, he's back to exasperated friend luke, 

You chortle on a gasp of air as you shoot him an accusatory look, taking a few steps closer to him with your finger outstretched like a weapon, 

“whats up with ‘me’?” you mock, showing your finger towards yourself, before dramatically turning it back on him, moving even closer. 

“What the fuck is up with you Luke? your the one who's being weird with me, don't pull some uno reverse card on the last few days”

You can see the lost puppy dog look in his eyes, as he tries to scramble together some sort of reply, 

“and don't fucking lie to me” you add, closing the space between you so that you're now jabbing him in the chest with your pointer finger. 

“i er, .. i don't know what you're talking about Y/N” god, even the way he says your name is hot, you feel feat rising again in areas it shouldn't but you push it away, your pride not wanting him to get the best of you even if your body would quite happily will it.

“Liar” you spit at him with such venom it surprises even yourself, accompanied with another jab to the chest, this one maybe a little harder than the ones before. 

“ouch” he mumbles, trapping the accusing finger in one palm and rubbing his chest with the other, the dramatics causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Hey, don't do that!” he fires back, you can tell he's trying to sound stern but its not really all to effect when he's still rubbing out the pain from your finger jab.

“do what?” 

“roll your eyes at me! I'm your senior” he puffs his chest, but his eyes still are full of surprise at your sudden outburst.

 “really? are you now luke?” you push him, his hand still wrapped around yours, sending sparks through you arm.

“yes, i am” His voice is breathy, his breath splaying down onto your face as he speaks. You suddenly realise just how close you have managed to get to him, previously too lost in the moment. Your body is all but pressed against his, head tilted down ever so slightly so that he can be on the same eye level as you. There isn't much difference in your height, but right now he feels like he's towering over you. 

Its rare that you see this side of Luke, normally so soft and docile towards you. The tension of this argument and sheer stress that has been building inside of him since your incident is starting to bubble over the surface as he's trapped so close to you now. You can tell he's surveying you, begging you to make the next move though fear he will say something he might regret. 

But maybe that is what you want from him, after all the last happy accident between the two of you has been the image you have gotten off to for the last four nights. 

“prove it then” 

“prove what?” Luke looks confused, suddenly drawing back a little like he'd completely lost the trail of your conversation, head tilted to the side like a bewildered golden retriever, 

“prove that you're my senior” you whisper back, almost not wanting him to hear it. You can tell by the way his light sapphire eyes gaze over he does though, as he watches you pull away and leave the training room, door slamming behind you.

 You slip past two bodies as you rush back to your dorm, your confidence leaking and the implications of what you just challenged beginning to set in. Hans and Leia both follow their gaze after you, the two having witnessed the end portion of yours and Lukes confirmation through the viewing window while waiting for the princess’s twin to finish for lunch. Leia turned to Hans, eyes narrowed,

“you don't think they might actually….” she trails off,

 “bang? oh definitely” Hans answers, still looking at the shaken remnants of Luke Skywalker, who liked like he may have lost all brain function capacity. 

It had been ten hours and forty five minutes since you'd left look in your dust in the training room, not that anyone was counting. And you had concluded two facts while on your bed in that time; 

Luke clearly didn't feel the same way you felt for him; you had left him with basically an invitation to come and take you and he was a no show.

to avoid facing the death by embarrassment you would inevitably suffer you will be spending the remainder of your sorry life inside the confines of this very dorm. it seemed the adult thing to do. 

You muffled a yawn, the sun had long past retired, and from your place on your bed you could just make out the two moons and multiple consolations now decorating the dark blue night.  

Lifting your arms above you head in a stretch, you caught a whiff of sweat and instantly sighed; as much as you had been willing to enjoy never moving from you bed until either starvation or dehydration took you out of your misery, you did happen to stink like garbage. 

You scuffled off the bed and out of your cloak and training pants, that had been left on from hours ago, making a mental note that at least you'd wouldn't have to worry about washing them if you never saw look again. You shimmied out of you knickers and unhooked your bra, throwing them onto the floor to join the rest of your discarded outfit before wandering over to your bathroom and turning on the shower, untangling your hair the best you can while the water warms. 

When you finally stepped under the water you let out a hiss at the feeling of the heat against your skin, basking in the feeling of droplets on your now bare body. You let your hand roam, starting at your chest and finding a path down past your belly button and hips, your skin trembling as your hand drifted over the area between your thighs. 

You let out another hiss, your fingers finding their way between your folds, teasing yourself. You enjoyed the tension loss for all but a moment before flashes of luke pressed against you in the training room earlier flew back into your brain; how hot his skin had been against yours and how his scent had been so strong in his sweat after the hours of sparring multiple Padawan’s. You moaned, half in frustration with yourself for ruining your moment and the other half in want. 

He's even spoiling your shower time now, what a dick. 

You snatched your soap bar from the shelf and scrubbed viciously, not allowing  yourself the enjoyment of a relaxing shower due to your own self betrayal. You ran some through your locks, cursing whichever part of your brain was telling the rest that this would feel a million times better if it was the Jedis hands in place of your own.

Once you had finished mentally punishing yourself, you turned off the water and stood there for a minute contemplating the likelyhood of a bang to the head removing your memory of todays events. 

After all, it would be so simple, a little slip in the shower and poof! Sure, Luke would remember it all, but would he really have the guts to say anything to you about it? surely he wouldn't want to risk your recovery from a very accidental definitely not self inflicted head injury now would he? However, if your preexisting luck was anything to go off, you'd probably forget everything but the sexual tension you had for your master.

Cowardly, you stepped out safely, making sure not to fall, and wrap yourself in a soft towel, leaving your hair to drip down onto your shoulders. You step out of your bathroom, not noticing the shadow that had formed in the corner of your room until they cleared their throat, causing you to just back in sheer terror, going over on your ankle and nearly dropping your towel all together. 

 “Sorry i er..”

“Luke? what the Fuck are you doing” You gasp out, staring blindly into the darkness as the shape shuffles on their feet awkwardly, 

Luke moves closer, the small amount of light left from outside casting across his soft face and mop of hair.

“I didn't mean to scare you” is all he can offer, 

“And what part of you hiding in my room while i showered would not come across as scary?” You shot back, more dazed than angry. You knew what him being here meant, but him hiding in the most light depraved corner of your room while you tried not to masturbate to images in your head of him in your shower was never part of the fantasy.

“i didn't realise you'd be showering this late” He replied, as if that answered the question as to why he was hiding in your room so late at night at all. 

You strained your eyes trying to peer at him, and he seemed to notice, taking another few steps forward into the moonlight. Maker did he look good, under the stars his skin glowed and his hair caught copper and silver highlights that made your knees weak. His soft features were taunt and there was mischief in his eyes, a familiar sight but in the situation at present it made heat grow in your lower stomach. 

Something told you he could see it in your face too, whatever he was looking for, because he kept on moving in on you, like a predator after their pray, You weren't used to seeing Luke all wound up like this, the only other time being the last time he was in your room, but the situation was different this time. There was an open air of lust and anticipation flowing around the two of you, you could only compare it to what the force had felt like the few times you'd managed to master it. It was like something spiritual was drawing you two closer, your body was working on autopilot, moving without your conscious command. He had closed the gap between you by now, but he didn't make a move to touch you or even say any more than he already had, simply staring down at you. When you realised he really wasn't going to be the one to break the silence, you stepped up to the mark for him,

“Why are you here Luke” It wasn't really a question, you knew what you had said to him earlier, the words that you had been replaying over and over in your head ever since. 

“Because..” He trailed off, as if he was trying to find the right way of wording his thoughts, you took this as a chance to push him a little further, no matter how nervous you both were right now, you knew him well enough over the last year to learn how to fire him up, and right now a pent up Luke was exactly what you wanted. You knew you were playing with fire, but you doubted if he did react, it would be in a way you wouldn't enjoy. Quite frankly, the boy could pick you up and throw you out of your own bedroom window right now and you'd still probably be horny enough to find some form of sexual gratification from the experience  

You saw his brow raise and his eyes flash before you heard his word, 

“To show you what i want from you, Padawan” He smirked around the term, causing you to let out a small, nervous laugh. 

“And what is it that you want from me, Master?” You hardly finish the word before his arms have snaked around your back and you're being lifted from the ground, letting out a squeal of surprise, your legs wrapping around his waist for support. He plopped you down on the bed, still situated between your legs, pulling a hand out on either side of your shoulders so that he could stare down at you. 

“Thats not an answer luke” you quipped back, quite impressed at your ability to still functionally produce coherent words. He leaned down, his lips on your ear, 

“oh, i think it is, Y/N” he breathed, letting out a boyish laugh before he could stop himself, almost giving you the chance to shoot another sarcastic comment his way, but as his lips touch the skin below your ear and start to plant wet hungry kisses there, the words dissolve into a soft moan. 

His head shoots up and you see the look of concern in his eyes, confirming that maybe Luke isn't the most sexually experienced person on this planet. The sweetness in his reaction makes you weak, but you have lost the ability to reply with words, so you communicate through grabbing either side of his soft face and planting a hungry kiss on his lips. 

For a moment you catch him off guard, frozen under you lips, and you worry that maybe you have somehow misread this situation entirely. Maybe he was just fooling around with you, maybe he wants serious?

But all that concern is dissipated by his lips finding rhythm against yours, equally as passionately. Okay, so maybe he isn't the best at reading you tell tale lust signs, but oh maker can he kiss. The movement of his lips alone is enough to cause severer wetness to pool between your thighs, your spin raising off the bed as far as it can to push your body against his clothed one. You're amazed your towel has lasted this long, especially after the near miss before, but now you find yourself wishing it hadn’t. Conscious of Luke being as respectful as it is, you also know that if you wait for him to remove it you may have melted away before he sees you; so you move a hand from his face to the tie at the top of your chest and pull it open, the towel cascading around you and leaving your front bare.

You had a feeling that Luke was a little too caught up in the moment to realise, so you gently slid you hand around one of his, waiting until he shifted his weight onto his other arm before you lowered it to you chest, letting it cup your breast. Lukes eyes shot open as he let out a gasp, lips opening just enough for you to tease your tongue against his bottom lip. His hand moved instinctively to squeeze, his thumb brushing gently over your already erect nipple. You shivered and moaned in response, but this time Luke knew this meant he was doing something right, so he repeated his actions.

 You had to give it to him, he was a fast learner.

 Your hand moved in an attempt to untie his cloak, but the action was proving difficult while Lukes mouth was on yours and his hand roaming your body, causing you to become inpatient.

“Take it off” You managed to get out between kisses, 

You expected him to challenge your direct order, but he merely sat up and untied the cloak, slipping it from himself and removing his undershirt too. You watched as the moonlight danced upon his skin, his toned chest, years of Jedi training had certainly served his body well. This wasn't the first time you'd seen Luke topless, but it was the first time you hadn't had to hide the fact that you were really looking. Realising how long you had been staring you met his eyes again,  half expected to see him smirking down at you, but he was just as lost in your body as you were his;

“You - You're Beautiful” He stumbled under his breath, you weren't sure if you were even supposed to hear it, but it made your cheeks burn either way. Before he could say anything else, you lifted your back up from the bed and pushed your body flush against his, planting kisses on his neck, eliciting a moan from the Jedi in response. You left little purple marks peppered in the wake of you lips, something you knew he may not be too pleased about in the morning, but you figured you might as well get away with as much claiming of him you could in the heat of the moment. He quivered underneath you, from this angle you could feel his ever-growing, now comically familiar, budge, his body naturally thrusting into yours, causing a beautiful friction against your heat. Luke was lost in the pleasure, and has seemingly temporarily forgotten he had hands, so you grabbed ahold of on and pushed it down to the bottom of your stomach, lifting your core from his so he could access it. Luke met your eyes again, this time you could tell him was clueless, his cheeks glowing a deep scarlet.

“I erm” You didn't let him finish, you'd figured Luke was a little inexperienced but not to this level. The massive reverse in roles made you feel a little powerful; suddenly you were the experienced one and he was your understudy. Maybe he should be calling you master? You made a mental note to remember that fact for tomorrow when the joke might go down better than in the middle of sex, 

“Just rub around here” you told him, while guiding his hand to your bundle of nerves, making sure to show him the correct pressure you wanted, and then your lips were back on his. 

Luke was slow at first, and it took him a while to actually bring his fingertips between your folds, however once he did he seemed to find the exact spot you wanted him in. Whether it the pressure of his cool finger tips or the fact that he had been unintentionally teasing the area so long, you released a borderline animalistic high pitched moan, lurching forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt him chuckle against your neck, repeating his action and causing you to squeal again, 

“well then” He murmured into your ear, a cheeky air to his voice, causing you to groan knowingly - you'd certainly be mocked for that vicious reaction afterwards. 

You wanted to smack the smirk from his lips, but instead you lowered one of you hands between your bodies, resting it on Lukes now fully erect but concealed member. He paused momentarily, before letting out his own moan as you started to palm him through his loose trousers. There was dampness under your hand, a mix of your slick heat and his own leaking member, but it only spurred you on more. 

Lukes actions had become increasingly sloppy, his hand slipping lower and lower until one of his digits unintentionally bumped against your opening, causing you to jump in his arm and whine against his ear. Luke took this as a sign to dip the tip of the finger into you, testing to make sure this wasn't the wrong move, when you hum in response he slips the rest in up to his knuckle. The action makes you tremble, and you're panting and whispering jibberish into his ear. He removes the finger and then puts in back in slowly, still unsure. Its torture, literal torture. You start moving your lower body against his hand, riding it. You're not sure what makes him do it, maybe just a reflex, but luke bends his finger ever so slightly just at the right point of entrance and hits your inner sweet spot, causing your tummy to do a flip and move wetness to peek from your core. His other hand finds your clit again, without you having to instruct him this time, and the mix of both actions causes your eyes to roll back into your head and you to let out a quieter but still prominent squeal. Luke laughs again, 

“Calm down little one” He teases, confidence dripping from his ever word. 

Maybe its the temptation to remove his smugness again, or maybe you're just turned on so much by this cocky side of Skywalker you've previously not seen enough of, but you instantly reach your hand under his waistband and inside his boxers, finding his length and stroking it directly with your hand. 

He instantly spasms under you, almost bucking you off him, and you thank god you're near enough to your headboard to catch yourself before he does. 

“sorry” he mumbles, steadying you with one hand, his other still inside your heat. 

“Shhh, its okay” you reassure him, before gently removing his hand from your heat and pushing him back a bit, causing him to look at you with confusion. 

“I just want to see it properly” You tell him, working on his waistband again. 

“You already have” he groans, clearly getting some secondhand embarrassment  from his previous accidental boner experience, but lowering his pants and boxers none the less, his manhood springing out. 

he hisses slightly as it meets the cool air of the room, his head rolling back ever so slightly - and you don't think you've ever seen a sight so sinful and glorious in your life. 

You lower your head down towards it but he catches your forehead against his palm before you can meet your goal, 

“erm? excuse me”

“youre excused ?” you reply, looking up at him from your position almost at his manhood, 

“what are you doing?”

“Oh luke i think you know fine well” You dip your tongue out between your lips, and it just reaches the very tip of his head, catching a little of what he's leaked there. Luke lets out a throaty moan in response, and you take advantage of his distraction, moving out from under his hand and licking his full length, from the base to the very tip. The sounds Luke makes in response are enough to almost make you tip over your own edge, but you try to suppress your own want long enough to put him all in your mouth and do a slow bob. He bucks into your mouth, unintentionally hitting the back of your throat and causing you to almost gag, the process causing him to mutter profanities that you never thought you would hear from the golden boy of the rebellion. 

You only get in a few slow bobs before his hand returns to your head, but this time he doesn't push you away, so you continue to move your mouth around his length which his fingers get lost in your hair. You cant fit all of him in your mouth comfortably, and your mind starts to wonder to what is inevitably the next step, your heat reminding you of just how much you want him down there, fucking you senseless into your own bed while the rest of the ship sleeps (hopefully)  unaware of your actions. 

Suddenly Luke is tugging your hair, pulling you up from him so that he slips out of your mouth with an audible plop. You take a chance to actually look at him, surprised at just how unravelled he looks, sweat causing his locks to stick to his forehead in erratic patterns, his eyes the darkest shade of blue you've ever seen. 

“whats wrong?” You ask him, your voice a little more course than you expected, 

“ Im going to come” He tells you truthfully, embarrassment visible on his face. You want to giggle at his innocent response, but you also don't want him to feel even worse than he clearly does, so you suppress it and keep your eyes on his, 

“Well come then “ you answer obliviously, still not truly understanding the route of his embarrassment. Sure, this wasn't exactly the worlds longest performance, but you'd seen much worse from people with much more experience - and at least Luke had actually managed to get you wet. 

I want to but “ He stopped, turning away in frustration and drifting off at the very last minute, you waited for him to finish, reaching for his hand and rubbing your thumb against it, attempting to reassure him enough to let you continue. 

“I want to fuck you” The way he says the words, like he knows he shouldn’t, makes it the most sinful line you've ever heard from anyone. You feel like he's just hit you with a sledgehammer, your core pulsing in response. 

He still wont look at you, so you simply lean back into  your bed, opening your legs, all prior shyness being pushed to the back of your mind by the raging lust that his words had fuelled. 

“Fuck me then” You instruct him, and oh boy, he does. 

head whipping around, Luke crawls back over you, eyes burning holes into yours as he meets your face, you bend your knees and grab his member with your hand, making sure to run it along your slit, gathering your wetness in its wake, before placing the tip at its rightful home, against your opening. Luke looks like he might burst, but you place a gentle kiss on his lips before guiding your body up to meet him, his tip entering you and stretching you out. You gasp at the feeling, Luke taking this as his cue to slow insert the rest of himself, filling you fully and causing you to clench around him on impact. Both of you are moaning now, maybe a little louder than appropriate for such a communal ship, but neither of you could find it in yourselves to care at this moment in time.

Luke was big, for sure. You remembered back to just before and internally cursed yourself for not making sure he used more than one finger one you; you were definitely no virgin but it had been a while since you'd been with anyone, and nobody had ever come near the size you were dealing with now. As luke started moving, the sensation of slight discomfort faded, and you were being overrides with a new force. You could feel every inch of him inside you, and partnered with his breathy moans of your name and his increasingly wild expressions, you could feel the coil of lust inside you beginning to build again. Maker, this was so good - surely things this good shouldn't be allowed for sinners like you. 

Lukes movements got sloppy all to fast, you could tell he was fighting his high as long as possible

You were overpowered with the need to give him release, slipping one hand into his hair and the other to his cheek, 

“Come for me, master” Your words caused his eyes to flash open, and his whole body to convulse, he didn't take much telling; you felt warmth leak into you as Luke let out a final throaty moan and his head flopped into your chest. 

You lay there for a while, stroking the stray locks of hair from his face as both your breathing returned to a somewhat normal level, him still inside you as you started to leak out over the covers. You'd probably be bothered about that tomorrow, like the clothes unwashed on the floor and the sound complaints from the people either side of your dorm. But for now, nothing could bother you. 

As you both drifted off into a peaceful sleep, Luke felt for the first time in years that nothing outside of this ship was worth any of his mind, he had all he needed here in this bed with you.

[giggles-and-freckles]

Can you do "I'm just a little cold, I'm okay, really. Let me sit with a blanket or something" with anakin (cause desert kid) and obi wan and cuddles?

from these extremely exhausted starters

“And that one?”

“Bassin Minor.”

“Good,” Obi-Wan nodded. Anakin tried not to sink too deep into the pride Obi-Wan seeped into their bond. “You’ve been studying.”

“You don’t let me do anything else,” Anakin said to shield his own joy at Obi-Wan’s praise. He was a teenager now; Obi-Wan didn’t need to know that Anakin still cared about his opinion.

“Ah, yes,” the older Jedi surveyed the star map thoughtfully. “I had a lapse and momentarily forgot what a terrible, totalitarian teacher I am.”

“I don’t know what that word means, but it sounds like something you’d be.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Perhaps you should focus on your politics now that you’ve mastered constellations.”

Anakin shifted in his seat. “Politics are stupid.”

“Very good, Padawan,” Obi-Wan beamed in jest. “A lesson better learned early on.” A dismal frown replaced his smile. “Unfortunately, they still dictate a large part of our lives.”

“I dictate my own life,” Anakin said with all the confidence of a thirteen-year-old who knew everything. He leaned back in his seat and put his feet on the holo-projector.

Obi-Wan shoved them back to the floor.

“We’re landing soon. Get your parka.”

It was music to Anakin’s ears. It seemed like they’d been flying forever and he wasn’t even being allowed to pilot, so all he had for entertainment was a star map, a broken mouse droid (which he’d finished repairing six hours ago), and Obi-Wan.

Anakin needed off this kriffing ship.

He stood from his seat, quickly–and immediately fell back down. His head suddenly felt heavy and his vision swam. Weird.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan called from the small room in the back of the ship. “Parka! Some time today, please.”

“Coming,” Anakin groaned, standing again–slowly this time–and holding his head as he walked.

Every step toward the back room tugged at muscles that shouldn’t be sore. Maybe he’d just been sitting too long, but it seemed strange for him to suddenly ache all over, when he hadn’t even done any physical training in a few days.

“Here,” Obi-Wan shoved a parka into his chest as soon as he got in the doorway. “Make sure it’s zipped.”

“Okay, okay,” Anakin mumbled, sliding it over his robes. 

“If your feet get cold, tell me. I don’t want a repeat of–”

“Master. I’ve been to Halak IV before.”

“Yes, and I practically carried you the entire way back to the ship because you were whining.”

“Oh,” Anakin grinned sheepishly, tugging on his earmuffs. “Right.”

Obi-Wan moved past his Padawan into the main hall. “I’m going to check on the cargo bay and see if everything’s secure for landing. You go ahead to the cockpit and supervise the autopilot.”

“Can’t I put it on manual just for landing?” Anakin pleaded.

“No. Now go.”

Anakin watched his Master walk away with a sour pout. Obi-Wan was no fun when he was stressed–and he was almost always stressed. 

He made his way to the cockpit and settled into his seat. Supervise the autopilot. Stupid.

Nothing was visible through the thick atmosphere they were flying through, but they must be getting closer to ground-level because the air in the room ran cold and Anakin barely managed to contain a shiver.

It was strange, because even though his body was freezing, his head felt warm–and still so heavy. He leaned against the back of his seat and tried to pinpoint the pressure. Maybe this atmosphere had less oxygen than they had anticipated?

That could be a problem.

“Hey, Master?” Anakin tried to shout to the back of the ship, but quickly clamped his mouth shut. Obi-Wan had always been impressed with his ability to speak at obscene decibels, but suddenly, Anakin found that his throat was tight and unable to produce more than a whisper.

It had been a little sore earlier, but this was ridiculous.

He rubbed at his throat with a frown and tried again. “Master Obi-Wan!”

The throat only tightened and the pressure in his head amplified. He was so distracted by the pain, he didn’t manage to catch himself before shivering along with the next wave of chills that overtook him.

“What’s wrong?” Obi-Wan’s voice came from behind him.

Anakin spun around his chair and winced. When his feet planted themselves on the ground, the room didn’t stop spinning. “I think–” He pressed on his temple, willing the pain to go away. “I think we read the–stats wrong. The atmosphere seems...ugh, highly pressurised. And not oxygen based.”

Instead of insisting they hadn’t read the stats wrong because Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t do anything wrong as Anakin expected, the older Jedi only stood in the doorway of the cockpit and studied his student with a frown.

“What?” Anakin asked, uncomfortable under his gaze.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Huh? Nothing.”

“You’re shivering.”

He shrugged as casually as his headache would allow him. “Just cold.”

Obi-Wan didn’t look like he was listening. Instead, he dropped into a crouch in front of Anakin’s chair and laid a palm against Anakin’s forehead.

“You’re burning up,” Obi-Wan said quietly. Concern flickered through their bond.

Anakin pulled away. “I’m fine.”

“Have you been feeling like this all day?”

“I’m fine, Master.”

“You’re staying on the ship.” And, like that, Obi-Wan was back on his feet and walking out of the cockpit.

“What?” Anakin cried, jumping up to follow. Immediately regretted it. His head–ow, ow, owww.

He fell back into the seat with a groan. “Master!” he yelled, his voice straining and stretching

“You have a fever, Anakin,” Obi-Wan called from the main room before striding back into the cockpit with a heap of emergency blankets. “I’ll drop off the supplies. You stay and rest.”

His voice came out garbled behind all of the blankets, but Anakin understood enough to scoff in protest. “No way, Master! I’ve been stuck at the Temple for your last two missions. I–oof.” His words were cut off as Obi-Wan unceremoniously dropped the heap of fabric into his lap. “Master Obi-Wan.”

“Don’t Master Obi-Wan me. You’re sick and I won’t have you going out into the freezing cold and getting even sicker. Now strap in. We’re landing.”

Anakin made sure to click his seatbelt as loudly as possible and give a disdainful groan to make sure Obi-Wan knew just how unfair this was.

…

He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep or how long Obi-Wan had been gone, but it had felt like hours since his Master had gotten off the ship and locked it behind him, leaving Anakin frowning under a few hundred tons of blankets.

But suddenly, he was being lightly jostled and–

“Master?” he slurred, blinked up at the face hovered a couple inches above his.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, pulling back. “You’re awake.”

“Why are you on top of me?”

“I’m trying to undo your seatbelt.”

“But you always say that safety is–”

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan sighed, but the corners of his lips quivered. “We’re on the way back to Coruscant. The mission went off without a hitch. I have auto-pilot set. Go to the back room and sleep.”

“Not tired,” Anakin lied. 

“Bed.”

“I'm just a little cold, I'm okay, really.” Anakin scrambled to sit up and realised he was, in fact, very cold. “Let me sit with a blanket or something.”

“Padawan,” Obi-Wan said, gently. Why was Obi-Wan being so nice? “I’m worried about you. I’d feel better if you were getting real rest in a real bed.”

“That’s not a real bed,” Anakin pointed out.

“Please.” And something about the way he pleaded instead of demanded it. Like it was a personal favour he was asking his Padawan to complete–

“Okay.”

Anakin didn’t need help walking to the back room, but he let Obi-Wan guide his shoulder anyway, because something told him it’s what Obi-Wan needed.

And it definitely didn’t count as a real bed, but maybe Obi-Wan had been right, because it sure looked more inviting than the stiff seat in the cockpit. He stumbled into it and Obi-Wan’s hand didn’t leave his shoulder.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” the older Jedi asked and, for the first time in Anakin’s life, he thought maybe his Master looked a little unsure of himself.

“No.”

“Okay,” Obi-Wan nodded quickly to himself. “Okay. Okay.”

“Master?”

Obi-Wan’s head snapped up. “Yeah?”

“You said that three times.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan breathed and then chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry.” Then, he looked back at Anakin. “Do you need more blankets?”

Anakin grinned, looking down at the mountain of fabric on top of him. “I think I’m set.” But his teeth chattered anyway and Obi-Wan’s frown deepened.

“I don’t have any medicine,” Obi-Wan muttered to himself, his eyes flickering around the room as if he had the ability to speak it into existence. “I could comm Bant and see if she could–

“Obi?” Anakin asked, too tired to be embarrassed by the old nickname that tumbled through. “I’m okay, but would you–would you just stay?”

He felt like a youngling again–like the nine-year-old who had known nothing about this life and had relied completely on his Master. Obi-Wan had been there for him every single time, even in the midst of losing his own Master. It was something Anakin had only recently found the time to process and be grateful for. 

Obi-Wan’s face softened and Anakin felt warmth through their bond. “Of course.”

Anakin moved as far toward the wall as he could and Obi-Wan’s eyebrows lifted of their own accord, like he’d only just realised what Anakin meant by ‘stay.’ In that moment, Anakin’s bravery crumbled–he was so stupid. Too old to ask Obi-Wan to sleep with him. Too grown, too big, too independent–

Obi-Wan climbed into the tiny bed and rested his back against the wall, dropping his hand to rest on Anakin’s head, his fingers absentmindedly moving through the small curls that had formed in the absence of a haircut. 

“Hey, Master?” Anakin said, his voice coming out quiet and croaky. Relieved. At peace. Safe.

“Yes, young one?”

“You’re good at taking care of people.”

The tiny movements in his hair froze for a moment and Anakin wondered if he’d said something wrong. But then–the movements resumed and Anakin didn’t need to see his Master to sense his smile. Obi-Wan’s smiles were always like this. The genuine ones anyway. Blinding and merciless in the way they spread through a room, touching every heart in their path and almost always pulling smiles in response.

Anakin thought he was pretty lucky to get to be on the receiving end so often.

[jasmine-iroh]

i have so many ideas in my head for fics LMAO and as u know i am obsessed w ur writing hehehe umm lets think can you do a sokka imagine where reader is Piandao’s apprentice as well so she spars with Sokka in his training and always wins, until he beats her one day from like being flirty and distracting her or something?? idk u can ignore this and just do any imagines u like LOL

Ahhhhh I love this idea so much!! Idk why but I have a headcanon that Piandao is lowkey like Batman and just trains abandoned kids and now he has like a tiny army of little white lotus warriors he’s informally adopted over the years.

This kid is weird.

That was the immediate impression (Y/N) got of Sokka when Master Piandao had introduced him as a new apprentice.

What the hell kind of name is Sokka, anyways?

That was her second thought. It was the kind of name that rolled off her tongue nicely when she was snapping at him to focus during their drills. The shape of it in her mouth made it easy to add a snarl to the front and a growl at the end when he was screwing around in front of Piandao, making them both look bad.

By the end of his first day training with (Y/N) under Piandao’s reserved tutliage, Sokka had been introduced to several intermediate forms. His heavy wooden practice sword had turned his arms to jelly long ago and there were various bruises and scrapes from (Y/N) sneaking past his defenses, but Sokka didn’t mind the aches.

She’s amazing.

That was Sokka’s first impression of (Y/N) as he watched her demonstrate the basic forms he was supposed to learn. He wasn’t focusing on the forms, but rather the warrior waltzing her way through them.

(Y/N) seemed to merge with her abilities. She moved with the ease of someone who spent her time befriending her skills, pouring her soul into singing metal and brutal dance numbers. Her blade was her master as much as Piandao was. She wielded her sentences as tactfully as her steel, every word intentional and aimed to cut to the heart of a matter.

Sokka would wager his last copper piece that her and Suki would get along quite well if they ever met.

He’s good.

That was (Y/N)’s third thought as she watched Sokka breeze through his basic drills.

A tiny part of her sung with pride when Master informed her that she was excelling in her duty of shaping Sokka into a proper swordsman. Sokka was her first real trainee during her time with Piandao. She’d studied under him from the age of six, when she’d turned up on his doorstep after being left behind in the middle of the night by her nomadic family.

She’d seen many hopeful young men turn up on that same doorstep, opening her sanctuary to their arrogant swaggers and second rate weaponry. They had all given her the same look when she guided them through Piandao’s home; a look that held the intrigue of having a girl around to preen for, not knowing that she was the judge, jury, and executioner of their fate.

Piandao might’ve been the one to teach the boys to fight, but (Y/N) was the one to make them honor the battle. They all came boasting to the Master about their accomplishments in their backwater town, lauding their own praises and embellishing their military bloodlines. Most left cursing the girl with forged steel for a personality and the word no sharpened like a blade.

Not Sokka, though.

(Y/N) supposed that maybe that’s what first warmed her up to him, the fact that he’d seen the sword on her belt first and her gender second. His quick wit and ability to bounce back after a defeat didn’t hurt, either.

Sokka’s knuckles were still red and actively bruising from their previous match when Piandao informed the pair that the next would be their last for the day. The compound was bathed in the golden promise of a sunset to come and (Y/N) found herself getting distracted by the way the light pressed gentle kisses to Sokka’s cheeks. The breeze played with his unraveling topknot like a teasing lover, taunting (Y/N) with the idea of what he’d look like with his hair down.

Before her thoughts could settle on the fight in front of her and not the boy, Sokka was making the first move. He went for the obvious strike, even though he should’ve learned by that point that (Y/N) would parry the blow.

Swinging her sword up to block him with ease, (Y/N) found herself shocked by their close proximity, puzzled that Sokka had thrown his first move to get close to her. A coy smirk was crawling along Sokka’s face as he gifted the young warrior with a flirtatious wink, causing her to narrow her own eyes back at him. It seemed that Sokka had seen her distraction and chose to wield his looks as his weapon of choice for this round.

“You can’t fluster me into losing, Sokka,” (Y/N) huffed, a mild bout of surprise bubbling as she realized that she was actually having to try to keep Sokka from getting the upper hand in their fight.

“That doesn’t seem fair, you’ve been flustering me all day.” He replied with a disarming grin, putting her on the defense with a quick, if somewhat unpracticed, set of attacks.

“Cut it out.” She growled, hoping the dark flush on her cheeks could be written off as exertion and not a real blush. Those oceanic eyes stared a hole into (Y/N), the flickering of his pupils to the side being the only consistent indication of his next move.

He was still too close for (Y/N) to ready a true offense, so she blocked and parried his attacks, his ever increasing proximity forcing her a step back with each move. She was trying to distance herself for an attack when the stone wall of the practice arena hit her back, shocking the wind out of her and allowing Sokka to land what would have been a fatal strike in a real fight. Their eyes were still locked as their chests heaved from the effort of the fight, bewildered (Y/E/C) eyes meeting a cunning blue gaze.

“Resourceful use of terrain, Sokka. (Y/N), don’t allow yourself to be crowded by a larger opponent. Use your agility, not your size.” Piandao advised, snapping the pair out of their staring contest. Sokka was still looming over (Y/N), but she wasn’t looking at him, instead forcing herself away from the wall to disappear into the bamboo thicket. She was being melodramatic, she knew, but she was ashamed that she’d let a stupidly charming boy make her look like a fool in front of her Master. The blow to her pride was blistering, raising all of her long buried insecurities to the surface.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sokka’s voice called from the bamboo to (Y/N)’s right. To hear that much concern in the voice of a boy who barely knew her showed his true character, but (Y/N) wished he would reveal an arrogant side. Something, anything, to throw her heart off the scent of a crush.

“Why would you do that?” She snarled, trying to cover the turmoil in her mind with misplaced anger.

“Do what?” His disembodied voice was confused, the rustling of bamboo revealing his position to (Y/N).

“Embarrass me like that in front of everyone! Do you know how hard it is to be taken seriously as a girl doing this?” (Y/N) ranted, her glare already fixed to the spot where Sokka popped out of the foliage into her line of view.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I just... I thought we had something going on there for a minute, y’know? You’re the best fighter I’ve ever met, being a girl doesn’t change that.” He told her honestly. He took a tentative step closer, approaching her like he would a scared cat.

“That trick won’t work a second time.” (Y/N) snapped, her eyes spitting fire at him. Once again, she found herself on the defensive with this boy, every careful step he took towards her sending her a step back until her back pressed against a clutter of bamboo.

“Trick? (Y/N), there is no trick. It’s called liking someone, and hoping they like you back.” Sokka exclaimed, frustration trickling into his tone. He wanted to be patient and give her room to puzzle out his intentions, but she was too busy protecting her emotions to see his truth.

A long pause, before, “he’ll replace me if he thinks I’m easily distracted.” It was said so quietly, in such a hopeless voice, that Sokka wouldn’t recognize it as (Y/N) speaking if he wasn’t watching her lips form the words.

“He’s a fool, then. He won’t find another (Y/N).” Sokka told her boldly, feeling wild and fierce in their bamboo haven with her baring her deepest emotions to him.

“Please stop saying nice things. It makes it really hard to be mad.” (Y/N) whispered in that same careful voice, her tone cooling as she folded in on herself. She couldn’t believe she’d shown her soul to a boy she’d known for two days.

“Then don’t be mad, be honest. Do you find me as distracting as I find you?” Sokka matched her tone, speaking quietly as he tried to coax her back out of her shell.

“No. Yes? I don’t know. I’ve never even liked any of the apprentices before you.” She huffed, tilting her head back to groan at the sky in confusion.

“Stop over thinking it. Do I distract you? Yes or no?” Sokka pressed, taking (Y/N)’s battle calloused hands in his own and tugging her attention back to those oceanic eyes.

“Yes.” Her tone was confident, her rough thumbs tracing delicate shapes over Sokka’s bruised knuckles as she accepted his rough palms in her own.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one, then, or this would’ve been awkward.” He admitted, a warm blush crawling up his neck.

“It already was,” (Y/N) giggled quietly, releasing the tension between them. They stood grinning at each other like fools, both trying to stretch this soft, peaceful moment into a lifetime. Sokka leaned down closer to (Y/N) slowly, his eyes flickering between her own and her lips as he gave her the chance to stop him.

Instead of bolting like he half expected her to, she leaned up and pressed a firm kiss to his lips, pulling him closer. The action threw him off balance and sent the pair tumbling through the bamboo, Sokka landing on top of (Y/N) with a squawk of indignation.

The serene atmosphere broken, they stared into each other’s eyes for a shocked moment before bursting into laughter and settling for holding each other close like a cherished possession.

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Us and Andie Ch. 5

Summary: Bucky works as an Avenger because it’s what’s right. He feels he has sins he’ll never be able to make up for, but he’ll spend the rest of his life trying. However, his life takes an unexpected turn when he comes across Andie, the daughter of recently divorced Y/N. The life he had once “maintained” in hopes of surviving changes as his heart warms for a tough-as-nails nurse and her wonderful daughter.

Word Count: 3227 words

Warnings: Reader and Bucky interaction! There is angst and mentions of abuse. 

A/N: There is a lot more angst in this chapter just because Y/N’s telling Bucky hers and Andie’s history. And guys - this divorce story is based off of real events from someone I’m very close to. I wish it wasn’t real, but it is. I actually downplayed it for this particular story. But single parents? Victims of abuse? They deserve all of our love and support because they work their asses off just trying their best.

Series Masterlist - Masterlist

Seeing an Avenger run errands was something that one wouldn’t label as “normal”. Ever. A giant of a man attempting to squeeze past other shoppers in skinny aisles? Natasha quietly appearing wherever she needed to do something as simple as grab a carton of milk? And God forbid a billionaire playboy like Tony go shopping on his own for something as trivial as frozen pizza. In fact, Sam might have been the only Avenger that Y/N could picture and it might be the slightest bit, maybe just maybe, normal.

But this particular Avenger? Bucky? It seemed…improbable? Impossible? Inconceivable. That was the word.

Maybe Y/N needed to stop watching The Princess Bride with Andie.

She watched as Bucky looked over her list, grabbing things from shelves and tossing them in the basket. Several women had noticed him. It was hard not to. The guy was massive. And Y/N had to admit, it was nice having him around. It was weird – she barely knew anything about him, but he was determined to help her.

“Tell me something.”

Bucky looked up, raising an eyebrow as she grabbed two bags of M&Ms. One peanut butter, the other dark chocolate. He wondered if they were both Andie’s favorites or if one was maybe hers. “Like what?” He looked back at her, handing her the list before pushing the cart.

She started scratching things off, shrugging. “Something not related to Hydra? Or the Avengers?” As interesting as it now was to say she met with and hung out with the Avengers, she still preferred normal. There was no denying that. And the idea of knowing something like that about Bucky? The idea made her smile.

“I like sweet things.”

That wasn’t what she was expecting. Y/N stepped in front of the cart, hopping on it and allowing him to push her. “I need an explanation behind that. I thought everyone likes sweets. At least to some degree, right?”

Bucky pulled the cart to a stop, surprised when she hopped up. However, despite his surprise, he had to admit that it was cute. He’d seen her wild and worried, but Bucky had yet to see her relax. To act less like a mom and more like…herself? There was a better way to word that, he was sure of it. He crossed his arms and leaned against it, trying to find the right words before realizing he still owed her an explanation. “Hydra didn’t exactly go out of their way to give me good food. Mostly it was IV nutrients or stuff that could hardly even qualify as food.”

Her heart sank at that. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the hero gig. “Oh…”

“Yeah, so when I got out I just…I promised myself I wouldn’t live like that anymore. I want to enjoy things and it turns out sweets became one of those…things.”

Y/N smiled at that. “I’ll make those pancakes for you. That Andie likes so much.”

Bucky looked up at her, eyes wide and jaw dropped. She didn’t – “You don’t – “

“What, you’re the only person that’s able to do nice things?” She hopped off the cart, crossing her arms. “Not happening. Besides, baking is one of those things I do.”

“Even in that tiny ass kitchen?” Y/N gaped at him and he cringed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

But it turned out, Bucky’s apology wasn’t even necessary. Y/N was laughing and swatted his arm, earning a small jump from him. “Yes, actually, I do bake even in that ‘tiny ass kitchen’.”

Bucky felt something in his stomach when he heard her laugh like that. Not only was it sweet, but he was the cause of it. He was the cause of bringing that smile to her face. “How do you have the time?”

“I don’t,” she told him, still laughing without a shred of embarrassment. “But I make it. Whether it means losing some shut eye or not – the nurses are willing to pay me to make stuff for their kids’ bake sales.”

Bucky pushed the cart, absolutely dumbfounded by this woman. She had no superpowers, no abilities, and no reason to be such a good person. And yet here she was. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as good as you.”

Y/N laughed again, shaking her head. “I’m just trying to do my best, Buck. Whatever that is.”

Silence fell as they rounded the corner and went towards the cold section. Y/N was immediately rubbing her hands together, oblivious to the fact that Bucky was watching her. He wanted to tell her more, talk to her more.

“I also like goats.”

Y/N whipped her head around, already smiling at that new detail. “Goats? Is there a story behind this?”

“Um…after the Accords I went to Wakanda and that’s where I met Shuri. She’s the princess there…Really good kid. You’d like her. And…”

Bucky continued with his story. His movements became more animated and relaxed as she listened to him. It was a side of Bucky she never could have predicted. But it seemed the more time she spent with him, the more she realized there was a lot about Bucky she couldn’t predict. And a lot more that she wanted to find out.

-.-.-

After grocery shopping and finally dropping everything off at the apartment, Bucky insisted on taking Y/N out for food. It was a weird moment for him. Normally he stayed in, avoiding eyes and people that were far too curious. But this time that wasn’t the case. He actually wanted to be out. He wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to be seen with Y/N or if he wanted to spoil her. Maybe it was a mix of the two.

“Here’s your order,” the waitress said, placing two burgers, fries, and two shakes on the table.

Y/N thanked her, looking around at the quaint little diner. How did Bucky find this place? “I feel like we’re going to be caught in this endless cycle of being too nice to each other,” she joked, taking a fry. She dipped it in her shake and took a bite, smiling when she saw that look of complete confusion on his face. Had he even heard what she just said? “Try it before you judge.”

Bucky snorted, but did as she said. What he didn’t expect was to actually enjoy it. And judging by the highly entertained look on her face, he wasn’t exactly hiding it.

“Exactly. So quit your judging.”

They were so at ease with each other. It felt like they’d known one another for years. “So…you asked me questions earlier. Can I ask you now?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment before forcing herself to relax. It was Bucky. What was the worst thing he could ask? “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“…Why did you and Andie’s dad get a divorce?”

Y/N’s whole body froze when she heard that question. This was why she didn’t make new friends. New friends asked personal questions. New friends asked about that damn ex-husband of hers. But Bucky meant well…She was sure he did. She had to remember that he was from a time when divorce just wasn’t done.

And she was from a time when it was always done.

“Well…” Wow, things felt heavy. Her chest felt tight.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmured. He leaned forward when he noticed how quickly her body language changed. “I didn’t want to upset you. Or bring up bad memories. I just…” His tongue ran across his lip as he struggled to find the words. Why was he always stumbling? Why was he always at a loss for words? “I was raised in a time where marriage was it. You were stuck with it. And even though Hydra brainwashed me, it became one of those things that was kind of ingrained in my beliefs. Even when I didn’t know what those were.” He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I was curious what would bring someone to end a relationship when they’re supposed to be in love.”

“Abuse.”

Bucky looked up, fixating on her features. There was only one tear, already fallen and gone. Strands of her hair fell in front of her face. She looked raw. His whole body was rigid as he repeated that one word in his head. Abuse. Who the fuck would abuse her? Who would be such a coward? She wasn’t a superhero. She wasn’t like him. Or a soldier or anything like that. She didn’t have a job that deserved cruelty. So why…? Bucky clenched his jaw at the sharp pain from his hair, realizing he’d been pulling because of his anger.

“Do you want the whole story?”

“You – Y/N, you’re under no obligation to share that with me.”

“I know,” she told him with the smallest nod. “I’m very well aware of that. And if it were anyone else, I probably wouldn’t. But I’m sitting across from a man who lived with seventy years of abuse. If anyone would get it, I’m pretty sure it’s you.”

He slumped in his chair, surprised that she would trust him with something like this. There was something about this that made him feel…pride? Confidence? Of all the people to trust, she was choosing him. And he never would have expected it. He never would have had the guts to believe it. Though first, he had to ask, “Did he hurt Andie?”

“Hell no.” The words were held with nothing less than total conviction. “I divorced him before he got the chance.”

“Why do I feel like there’s more to the story than that?”

“’Cause there is? My ex…” She picked at her food, suddenly losing her appetite. “God, he knew how to work the system. Played it like a game. He was verbally and emotionally abusive…Never touched me hard enough to leave a bruise. Just enough to make a point or get me scared.”

Silence passed for a few minutes. Bucky watched her, willing to listen to anything she had to tell him.  But just like any of the Avengers, that wall that she had torn down came right back up just as quick.

She shrugged, taking a sip of her water. Her stomach lurched. She felt sick. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” Bucky bit his lip, reaching across the table. His hand found her arm, squeezing gently. Learning about this, he had so much more to ask. Why would Andie try to see her dad? Why did Y/N wait till Andie was three?

“You’re not the first person to give me that look, you know,” Y/N murmured. A hollow laugh slipped free. She pulled her arm away from his grip, ignoring how comforting it felt. She hugged herself. “Part of my marriage included isolating me from my family. I was nineteen when we got married, so I didn’t know any better. God, I was so naïve. I was practically brainwashed into believing that was how marriage was supposed to be. I didn’t know any better and – “ She faltered, realizing what she had said. “I’m sorry, that was really tacky. I could’ve chosen a better word.”

Bucky frowned. What was she talking about? Oh. He chuckled, shaking his head. “If brainwashing is a good word to describe what you went through, then use it. You’re not hurting my feelings.”

She smiled ever so slightly. It hurt to see her like this. Looking so broken. Taking a shaky breath, she looked around at the near empty diner. The few people that were there weren’t paying attention to them. It was comforting. She felt like she could confide in him even with where they were. “I didn’t really care what he was doing to me, you know? I was numb after five years. I didn’t talk to anyone outside of his friends. It was just my life. But then I got pregnant with Andie. And he changed. He started treating me better…like I was a person instead of property.”

Bucky’s hands clenched on his thighs. Everything in his body wanted to move next to Y/N, to hug her and let her know that nothing that happened was right. But the way she talked about it? He knew she was aware. He knew she wasn’t that same girl anymore. God, how different would things have been if they had met all those years ago? “What changed?”

“I think actually having Andie burst some bubble of his. The reality of a daughter? Especially a mutant showing their abilities so young? He wasn’t prepared for it and,” she shrugged again, defeated. “He blamed me for her having a gift. I didn’t even care that she did, but when I reminded him that it was the male’s genetics that determined someone being a boy or girl? Someone being a mutant? That was when things went back to what I was used to. He didn’t drink or anything, but he was…so angry. And I wasn’t going to put her through that. She had just turned three and I filed. So then he threatened to take her from me.”

Bucky’s heart sank. How much of this was a reality for other women? How many women had to be as strong as Y/N? How many chose to stay? How many weren’t even able to make a choice? “How,” His voice caught in his throat. “How did you get him to…”

“To leave us alone?” He nodded, at a complete loss for words. “He doesn’t have to pay child support. And I have complete control of visitation rights. It mattered once, but not so much now. Andie…she wants a relationship, but it’ll never happen.”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, trying to wrap his head around everything. She gave up child support and was taking care of a kid while living in New York. On her own. Wow. He scratched his jaw, unable to wrap his mind around how someone could go through all of that. It was a different type of torture. Bewildered, he asked, “Why would she even want to see him?”

“Because he remarried,” she sighed. “And he has two boys. Don’t get me wrong, I am completely honest with my daughter about everything involving her father. I have raised her to be able to defend herself no matter what. She is very aware of everything.” Y/N hesitated, only able to imagine what could have gone on in Andie’s head the day her dad refused to meet her. “But she has a father who has no interest in meeting her because of things out of her control. He raises two boys and, from what I know, he loves them and his wife. He treats his new family great. At thirty-five, I still can’t help the sting I feel from that. I can only imagine what she feels.”

“She’s an awesome kid.”

Y/N laughed, tears welling in her eyes. “Yeah, I know. And she’s been wanting to meet him since she was eight. She’s been wanting to meet her brothers for just as long, but…”

“He won’t let her.”

It was a statement, not a question. He didn’t need to ask because the answer was so irritatingly obvious. What an ass. Andie was sneaking out to see what she was missing. She was trying to create a relationship with someone who didn’t want her. The thought of that, the realization, made him sick to his stomach.

Y/N let out a sharp exhale, realizing how heavy things had gotten. She had shared her story, sure, but normally in bits and pieces. It wasn’t normally such word vomit. “I can’t believe I told you all of that. It is nothing like what you went through.”

“Don’t start with all of that,” Bucky argued, shocking her into silence. “Trauma is trauma. Nothing makes what you and Andie went through any less valid. And you can’t argue. ‘Cause I’m the Winter Soldier and who better to ‘get it’ than me?”

She laughed at that, a hint of a smile reappearing when he threw her words back around. Oh, how surprising this man was. Taking a sip of her drink, she asked, “You are unnaturally kind, you realize that, right?”

“Or maybe I’m just less of a dick than the guys you spend time with.”

Y/N snorted, choking on her water and falling into a coughing fit as Bucky winced. Maybe that was too far? “That was great,” she told him, wiping away the tears that had fallen before.

In only seconds, she looked completely different. No longer broken. Any tension that had been there was gone. She was already moving on from it. Maybe that was because she already had eight years behind her.

Leaning back in her seat, she checked her phone. “I need to go get Andie from school.”

Bucky nodded, pulling out his wallet and dropping a couple twenties. “Do you want company?”

She smiled as they stood and made their way outside. As weird as it was to share something like picking Andie up, Y/N found herself wanting to. Andie liked Bucky. And Y/N felt like she could trust him. Especially after confiding everything to him. Honestly, she told him, “I would really like that.”

“Then lead the way.”

And she did. Her hand reached down and grabbed his, immediately catching Bucky’s attention and sending him on alert. He expected her to let go at some point, only making sure he stuck by through the crowds. And while he did his best to follow the route, memorizing it in case he would one day get Andie on his own, he was absolutely giddy.

She never let go of his hand.

-.-.-

That night, Tony was working late in the lab as always. While tinkering away at his suit, he had a hologram of a few documents pulled up. He was passively studying, something absolutely normal for him. It helped him focus. At least, that was the excuse he was giving himself. He preferred this sort of thing after all. But what he hadn’t been expecting was F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerting him of someone else’s arrival.

He looked up, swiping away the reports he’d been memorizing. Fixating back on the suit, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

Bucky didn’t say anything. He shoved a hand in his pocket, the other nervously running through his hair. He didn’t like the idea of coming to Tony for a favor. He really didn’t. It isn’t for you. It’s for Andie and Y/N. “You like Andie and her mom, right?”

Tony glanced up, lifting the goggles and propping them on his head. “Yeah. Y/N seems like a good mom and Andie’s been a riot ever since I met her.” He pushed the chair he sat in, rolling across the floor and landing at his desk. He set the tools down and rose to his feet, wiping his hands clean on his pants. He could always buy another pair. “Why, what’s up?”

“I have a favor to ask…”

Tony leaned against his desk. “For them? Name it.”

And Bucky did. He described everything he felt Tony needed to know. He knew the Stark had a big heart, witnessed how he had taken Peter under his wing. He wanted to do something similar for these two. And judging by the look on Tony’s face, he was more than willing.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Tag List:

@mr-robot-x​ @lets--be-honest @buckyssoul @purplekitten30 @amnahs9695 @booktease21 @niahmariec

[imagine-loki]

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 50 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.     RATING: Mature   NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

I literally have this written with over a week and just as a tab on my computer but I suffer from ITS, Idiotic Thoughts Syndrome which makes me really mentally weird and my mind tells me no one likes my stuff, I just had a few people message me over the last day about this telling me they love it which forced me to feel like I am letting them down if I don’t post it which, by the way, is sometimes the best way to motivate my shitty ass, so yeah, it needs saying, if you like this, please let me know, it actually gets me to upload new chapters. I have some written, so…yeah.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

The roar of the Bifrost resounded across Jotunheim, declaring to the realm that the Allfather had arrived. Loki and Ella stood in the aforementioned agreed place of landing for the Aesir royal family with a few others with them. On seeing her parents, Ella smiled brightly, though her nervousness at revealing to them that she was carrying a child still played slightly on her. She had decided to inform them of their impending grandchild later in the palace, but for now, she hid it under a heavy cloak. When her parents and brother emerged from the startling light, some of their guards and even two of the Warrior’s Three with them, Loki and Ella stepped forward. 

Both Odin and Frigga seemed to immediately look at their daughter more than anything else, Frigga more so than her husband. Though the pair had been conversing through their seidr, it was the first time mother and daughter had been physically in one another’s company since the wedding and especially since she had been ill. Loki and Ella bowed as was expected to the Allfather and Allmother, who in turn both lowered their heads slightly in recognition of the gesture. Thor, who had stood back slightly came forward to deal with the formalities of the situation, though part of him thought it to be entirely unnecessary. Technically speaking, those arriving for the coronation were not doing so yet, so their being there was not on an official basis, more so on being there to assist their daughter and her husband, should they be required to assist so the bowing and such, the stoic interactions were something he wished did not occur. He had fought alongside the Jotnar, bled and lost brethren with them, that made the pageantry unnecessary in his eyes. He wanted to speak with the allies he had made again. 

“Allfather,” Loki bowed to Odin before turning to Frigga and doing the same. “Allmother, thank you for joining us for this momentous occasion.”  

“It is a great day for Jotunheim.” Odin declared though he looked warily at his daughter to see if she had been better treated since his last seeing her. Frigga had informed him that Ella looked healthy and happy when they spoke together but he did not fully believe it. She had put on a facade in the time up to her health scare, she could very easily do so again. But seeing her smile brightly, if not slightly apprehensively at them, there was no denying that she was indeed healthy again. If anything, he noted she seemed a little weightier than before, though he would never state such aloud, he always maintained she could do with a little more weight, especially after she got sick as a child. He wanted to be less formal, to speak with her but this was not the time. “It seems like life is developing well since the Casket’s return, a great success.”

Loki, Ella and many others gathered on the Jotnar side gritted their teeth with regards his comments on the Casket, all thinking the same with regards to him taking it in the first place.” “Jotunheim has never seen prosperity like it. The food is plenty, the many are healthy and the population is about to see an explosion like never before,” Ella beamed. “And with Loki’s rule, it will be even better.” The confident look she gave him and his smile in return startled the Aesir royals to the point of silence. In her talks with her mother, Ella rarely spoke on Loki in any manner, much less one to suggest to her mother that she thought so well of Loki. 

Odin was the first to find his voice again and cleared his throat which in turn, broke the peculiar feeling in the group gathered. “Good, the realm deserves a fresh start.” 

With the formalities completed, everyone headed to the palace. The Jotnar they met on route glanced at the Aesir party with intrigue yet not overly concerned. The Aesir mate to their soon-to-be king had caused many who had been wary before to trust the Aesir slightly more and with Loki’s coronation, they knew this was a necessary evil to host the Allfather once more. 

When they made it to the palace, Ella led them to their rooms with Loki by her side. As soon as all but her brother, his friends and her parents were gone, she walked over to her father and placed her hand beneath his own on Gungnir. “If I may be so bold, I need to borrow this for five minutes.” 

Odin frowned at his daughter. He had not even spoken directly to her since their arrival and she had not explained why she would require one of the most powerful weapons in all of the realms but the pleading yet confident look on her face told him that she felt whatever she planned required it greatly enough to ask. With a slight nod, he relinquished his grip on it and watched as she rushed off, Loki looking at her with confusion on his face as she left. When the young Jotnar noticed the Aesir royals looking at him in bewilderment, all he could do was try to express that he too was oblivious to what his mate was doing. 

Three minutes later, Býleistr walked past them looking terrified. A moment later Helbindi and Greta walked into the hall, both seeing the confused royals gathered in the hallway, both looking equal parts in awe and somewhat scared. 

“What did she do?” Loki half winced, not sure what they were going to say. 

Helbindi grinned. “Did you ask her about the space issue?” Loki nodded. “Well, it is dealt with.”

“What?” Loki cocked his head. 

“She’s after dealing with our space issue,” Helbindi repeated. 

“How?” “No idea. She used some golden stick and her seidr to do it.”

“That’s not a stick, that is Gungnir,” Odin growled, displeased that anyone would disrespect his powerful weapon in such a manner. 

“Gung...I thought only the Allfather could use that?” Helbindi looked to Loki in confusion. 

“Why do you seem surprised?” Loki chuckled. “Ella does as she sees fit, even powerful magical weapons know better than to argue with her.” He threw his eyes up playfully as he said so. 

Barely a moment later, Ella walked through the hall once more, looking proud of herself, Gungnir in her hand. When she got to her father, she smirked and handed him back the staff. “Thank you.” 

“That suits you far too well,” Odin commented to his daughter as he took back Gungnir. He used his seidr to read the magic that the staff had recently worked with to see what she had done. When he sensed it, he studied his daughter’s face, startled by the smirk on it. “How?” “You limit your abilities too much, Father, by your choice not to expand them.” She walked over to Loki who looked curiously at her. “The space issue is rectified.” “So ‘Bind said but how?” 

“I may have tripled the palace.” “I’m sorry, you what?” Loki could not comprehend what she was saying. 

“I used Gungnir to magnify my seidr and simply made the palace bigger. We needed more rooms, I made it that the living areas of the palace are now copied a few extra times so we can house all those who wish to be here. I also used it to make the areas habitable to those arriving. The last thing we need is frozen Light Elves.” 

Loki could not think of an answer worthy of the statement. When he mentioned his concerns to Ella, she smiled and promised to rectify it. When he asked her how she planned to do so, she merely smiled and repeated that she would do so and not worry about it any more. Seeing her do so in less than the time it took to get to the throne room, he found himself wondering how he could ever have thought her to be dim-witted when he first met her. “Always finding solutions.” He smiled kindly at her. 

“What would you do without me?” She smiled before looking over at her parents and brother who clearly were uncertain as to what to say with regards to their daughter’s clearly altered situation. Thor knew that Loki had developed from the arrogant being that he had seen for the wedding, even speaking to him when he came for their assistance but seeing now that it seemed to even have grown more intrigued him slightly, especially because Ella seemed different. She seemed a lot more open, something he had not been used to on Asgard. To him, she was always an annoying prankster at worst or disinterested in him and his friends at best. She never seemed to do anything but stand and listen to court or speak almost stoically with friends. Now, she seemed so much more outgoing and confident. 

“I think we best get settled.” Frigga turned to Odin, who clearly was weary, though no one would admit to such out loud, especially Odin himself. 

“Yes, when you do so, Loki and I must speak more with you,” Ella stated. Her parents stared at her worriedly. “Yes, we are nulling the marriage and I am taking the veil.” Each word dripped with adequate sarcasm befitting her deadpan tone and facial expression. “Surprise.” 

“I thought you had matured, I was getting worried.” Thor scoffed. 

“And be boring? Perish the thought.” Ella shuddered. “Go get settled. We will ensure everything is as it needs to be here and then we will speak more.” She bowed slightly. “Until then, I am getting something to eat.” With that, she walked off. 

Helbindi scoffed slightly before encouraging Greta to back to their rooms to rest. Her heat had settled and she was currently waiting to see if she had become pregnant anxiously while also assisting with the coronation with the other female mates. Helbindi was forced to deal with other matters meaning he only say her for small parts of the day but was adamant that she rest adequately. 

Loki looked after his mate for a moment before looking at her bemused parents. “I best alert my father than all are here.” “Where is Laufey?” Odin asked. 

“Resting, I fear. His health continues to waiver so he must rest more often, hence this unprecedented event.” He bowed slightly. “Until later, please, make yourselves comfortable.” With that, he left to follow do as he said and inform his father. 

“Do we even want to know?” Odin asked his wife. “What did she say to you?” “Nothing worthy of speaking with us like she is implying she needs to, perhaps it is to do with the coronation, she seems slightly concerned with regards to that,” Frigga shrugged. “Nonetheless, it would be wise for us to attempt to prepare the rooms, those ice-beds do nothing for your back.” 

“You hardly doubt it took Ella that long to merely duplicate a few rooms? She has readied ours to our liking also.” Odin informed her. “She said she did it in the other wings but she did it for us also.” 

“How could you possibly know that?” 

“Do you think you are the only one she can communicate silently with? Why do you think we both held Gungnir for a moment?” His chest puffed out proudly. “It was from us both that she became one of the most powerful seidr wielder in the realms, not simply one.” He looked at the staff in his grasp. “Had she have been a son, she would have been terrifying.” Thor was about to say something when he saw his father inhaled deeply in a manner that always meant he was about to say more. “A warrior for an heir and a seidr-wielding assassin as his highest general, it would have been terrifying.” “The Norns knew it would have been too much,” Frigga commented. “She seemed to have little issue with Gungnir.”

Odin looked at his staff, something he could never remember fighting without since the day his father Bor died and it was placed in his hands as his successor. “Yes, so it would seem.” His voice was distant as he did so, telling Frigga that he was thinking of something in his own head. 

[lesbianlovelanguage]

i want to feel something (i’m numb inside)

It’s another HfBLM Prompt for imperfectabstraction on AO3, who requested pining!Billy who’s bad at communication. Thank you endlessly for your donation!! 

Also a huge ass thank you to @gideongrace for your patience and help in me writing this and basically betaing it. I love you so much. 

Read it on AO3 here or below the cut

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1. Welcome to Hawkins. 

Billy had been attending Hawkins High for two weeks when he realized what was happening. 

It wasn’t anything special, no fireworks or butterflies, but instead a cold frustration frosting over him. Because he realized he had a crush. On the most popular and decidedly straight boy in the miserable town of Hawkins, Indiana. Neil’s beatings could never compare to the sinking feeling in Billy’s gut when Steve Harrington stood in front of their english class and gave a frankly terrible report on Moby-Dick . 

It certainly wasn’t Harrington’s presentation that made Billy recognize his crush, but the way his soft hair shined and he stood tall and confident even as the words that poured from his mouth were utter bullshit . 

Billy had always been a sucker for confidence and cockiness. 

But once Harrington had sat down, and was thus out of Billy’s sightlines, the warmth that came with a new crush turned to the familiar iciness, and it felt as if a great gaping maw had opened below him. 

Even after the bell rang and the classroom emptied out, Billy was stuck in his head. 

It wasn’t fair, he thought. He was supposed to hate everyone and everything about this town, and be fucking thankful when he got to put everything in his rearview mirror. But here he was with a ridiculous crush. 

It wouldn’t couldn’t change his plans. Billy was resolute to not act upon his feelings, to avoid Harrington at every turn. 

That resolution to ignore Harrington stayed for the next 5 periods, until he got to basketball practice. Harrington was clearly in his element on the court, no math problems or english reports here. Just sheer athleticism and strategy. And it made Billy angry. Because he couldn’t do anything about Harrington’s breathless panting or the way he was clearly showing off. So Billy did what he always did when he was angry.

He played dirty.

He used every trick in the book to trip up Harrington, guarding him by pushing every body part up against Harrington, using even the tiniest of openings to steal the ball, and he rammed into Harrington to steal the ball. He showed off a little, bolstered by the knowledge that Harrington’s focus was entirely upon him, the anger replaced by the feeling of pride. 

When he landed after dunking the ball, he turned and continued to use the excitement of being Harrington’s sole focus to bound over to the tangled heap of lanky limbs and pale, creamy skin. He even put out a hand to help him up before he came back to himself, violently. 

What was he doing? This is the exact opposite of ignoring Harrington . 

He tried to save face by growling some stupid one-liner about planting his feet, and then dropped him like a sack of potatoes. 

When Harrington popped back up and ignored Billy completely to chase after the ice princess herself, he shook his head and continued to play. This time, his showing off and dirty moves turned vicious as he continued to foul right and left before the coach was forced to bench him. He tried to shrug off the anger and left to take a shower. 

Thankfully the showers stayed empty, and Billy was able to escape. After the disaster that was basketball practice, he decided to firmly clamp down his feelings and avoid Steve Harrington at all costs. 

2. Can’t Ignore Him Anymore 

Billy was having a bad night, to say the least . 

His plan to head off to Indianapolis and the nearest gay bar with a loose ID policy was ruined because his shitbird step-sister decided to fuck off with her weird ass friends, probably with Sinclair even though he tried to warn her that Neil wouldn’t be happy. He had proof of what happened when Neil wasn’t happy blooming on his back too. At least it wasn’t worse, he thought with a grimace. He wasn’t sure when walking away with bruises had become lucky but it was what it was.

And now he had to run all over Hawkins to find the little shitbird, and with every house that sent him somewhere else his admittedly small patience was dwindling. By the time he was pulling into the dark driveway of the Byer’s house, he was itching for a fight. 

And then Steve fucking Harrington walked out of the house. Because God hated him.

Or at least, it felt like the Big Man hated him as Harrington sauntered towards him, dish towel casually tossed over one shoulder and hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” He felt himself call out before fully processing the words. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” Harrington sounded blase in his response, but a faint blush appeared on his cheeks as Billy took off his jacket. Interesting. As he walked towards Harrington, a familiar bush of bright red hair popped in and out of the window and shocked Billy back to reality. He stopped, leaving plenty of space between himself and Harrington, enough to hopefully let him keep a clear head. 

“What are you doing here, amigo?” Billy taunted. Maybe he would finally see some action tonight, at least enough to wipe the bitter taste that flirting with Mrs. Wheeler left in his mouth. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Harrington retorted, sounding exactly like a fifth grader. 

“Well, I would. ‘S why I asked, cause I don’t really like the picture that’s being painted here. Max goes missing all day, and then I find her here in some stranger’s house, with you of all people. See what I’m seeing, Pretty Boy?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean, me of all people?” Of course Harrington would pick up on that. 

“What does King Steve want with a thirteen-year-old girl? Not a great look man.” The adrenaline bubbled up in Billy’s stomach in anticipation of a fight, fists clenching and skin buzzing. But Harrington never reacted how Billy expected, and this was no exception. 

“Yeah, but letting demon monsters kill a group of pre-teens isn’t so great either,” he said casually, as if his words would make a lick of sense. Billy gaped a little before shaking his head and laughing a bitter, mean laugh.

“You’re digging your own grave man. I just wanted my step-sister, but it looks like I’m gonna have to kick your ass.” That was the only warning he gave before closing the distance and swinging. Harrington went down like a sack of potatoes and Billy couldn’t help the smugness in his voice when he bent over and spit, “Told you to plant your fucking feet, Princess.” He then stepped over Harrington’s sprawled body and walked inside. 

He noticed all of the usual brats that hang off of Harrington, but his gaze zeroed in on Lucas. All of the anger and frustration Billy had felt over the course of the night collided into one comprehensible thought.

He had warned her. 

He wasn’t proud of what he did, but at least he had the ability to stop. He just wanted to scare the kid, hoping that if he couldn’t warn Max he could scare the kid off before Neil got involved. 

If he got involved, he wouldn’t stop, not until Sinclair was really hurt. Or even dead.  

Billy didn’t like himself while he was doing it, knew that his behavior was revolting and monstrous, but he was willing to play the bad guy if it kept the gremlins from the real bad guy. He was thankful when Harrington forced him around and clocked him in the face. Then he had something better to focus his rage and fear on. 

They were in the middle of fighting when Billy thought he lost his mind. He had grabbed the fridge door, planning to use it to clock Harrington in the head, when a thing fell out. It didn’t move from it’s spot on the kitchen floor but it left a trail of something slimy and Billy went mental. 

“What the actual fuck. Someone had ten seconds to explain what this is,” he growled, and was promptly educated about the Upside Down, demogorgons, and something the brats called The Mind Flayer. Apparently Hawkins was housing some horror movie level shit, and of course Harrington was involved. So much for ignoring him forever.

  3. Summer Sweetness

Billy didn’t just enjoy summer. He thrived in the summer. The sun, the heat, the smell of the ocean and the sound of busy beaches filled him with a happiness even Neil couldn’t touch. There were no ocean waves that summer, but chlorine was a close substitute. Anything was better than the disgusting stench of cowshit that seemed to permeate Hawkins in the fall. 

And even better was the silent agreement he had made with one Steve Harrington. 

It started at Prom. Billy had agreed to go with some girl, he hadn’t bothered to remember her name, only to get the promposals to stop. It was a good ego boost at first, but after six in four class periods, it got exhausting to try and politely decline. So, the seventh girl who came up to him with a big home-made card practically dripping in glitter got a ‘Yes’ from the Billy Hargrove. Ridiculous.

He made the mistake of telling Max somewhere that Neil could overhear him, so he ended up having to rent a limo and buy a corsage and dress up in a full tux. All for a thing he didn’t want to go to with a girl he didn’t care about. To just get through the night, he ended up downing an entire bottle of tequila by himself. 

The next morning he would definitely be blaming the tequila, but he would be lying to himself that it was the only reason he did what he did. 

It had been building for a long time, but it wasn’t until he saw Steve in the bathroom furthest from the gym that he realized what it was. 

He had stumbled down the darkened hallways of Hawkins High, desperate for the escape a cigarette would bring him. He knew the bathroom in the english hall had a busted fire alarm, so he made a beeline towards it. He was so focused on pulling the pack out and lighting up, he failed to notice there was someone else, not until they cleared their throat. His head shot up, ready to fight, only to be met with big brown eyes and pale creamy skin. 

“Oh hey, Pretty Boy. What are you doing here?” He tried to play it casual, not letting on that blood was rushing in his ears and his heart was in his throat. 

“Could ask you the same question. I’m pretty sure Colleen is asthmatic, won’t appreciate the nicotine smell,” he said, gesturing to the cigarette he had just lit up. It took him a minute to figure out who the fuck Colleen was, until he realized it was the date he had abandoned in the gym.

“Pretty sure she won’t care what I smell like, if you know what I mean.” Billy waggled his eyebrows and dragged his tongue along his bottom lip. He was caught off guard though, when Steve’s pupils dilated. Interesting. 

“You’re nasty,” Steve tried to cover the few seconds of silence, but Billy was a shark who had smelt blood. 

“Oh really, Stevie?” He asked before taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing it towards Steve. “You don’t like the idea of Colleen and I getting freaky? What’s a little locker room talk between amigos after all?” He smirked before going in for what he hoped was the kill. “Unless… You’re jealous?” His smirk only grew as Steve stuttered, trying to form a rebuttal.

“I am not jealous of Colleen. I feel bad for her, going to one of the most special nights with you.” Steve’s words were meant to cut, but Billy could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“Never said you were jealous of Colleen, Stevie. But if you are, I think I have a solution.” That was the only warning he gave Steve before walking over to be right in front of him. They were so close their shoes were touching, and Billy could smell the smoke on Steve’s breath. 

“Seems a little hypocritical to yell at me about smoking when you were doing the same thing.” Billy may have noticed that Steve wasn’t the best in school, but he would never say the boy was slow. He seemed to get with the picture pretty quickly.

“Oh yeah?” His voice was breathy and soft. “You gonna do something about it?”

“I think I have to. It wouldn’t be right if I just ignored it.” 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Do it,” Steve challenged. And Billy never backed down from a challenge. He lunged forward the few feet between them and smashed his lips against Steve’s. 

The kiss wasn’t nice or gentle. It was a battle between two wild animals, only softened when Steve’s hands snuck up Billy’s back and tugged on the golden ringlets. Billy broke the kiss with a moan and Steve grinned. 

“Like that, tiger?” 

“Shut up and get back here,” was Billy’s only response before they collided again. Shaky hands unbuttoned shirts. As soon as Steve’s torso was exposed, Billy moved down to suck what was sure to be an impressive hickey along Steve’s collarbone, unable to resist marking the pale skin. 

Steve’s moan was loud as Billy moved his hands from the small of his back to his thighs and picked him up. Like he was nothing. He was placed on the edge of a sink, and then Billy moved down Steve’s chest, kissing every mole he could find. After successfully making his way down to his knees, Billy unzipped Steve’s pants and proceeded to rock the boy’s damn world. 

  That was the only time they had sex during school, but it wasn’t the last time they had hooked up, far from it in fact. He was dropping Max off at the ice cream shop, Scoops Ahoy, when he saw Steve again. He was in a truly ridiculous parody of a sailor’s costume and Billy wanted to eat him alive. 

He was surprised to find the feeling was mutual. He walked up to the counter to tease Steve about the uniform, and somehow ended up in the storage room getting his dick sucked this time. 

The summer proceeded to pass like that, until some time in July when Steve said he couldn’t keep having sex at work and gave Billy his phone number with a wink. Then Billy started sneaking into Steve’s bedroom at ungodly hours and left before the sun had risen. 

But all good things came to an end, and Billy was nothing if not a coward. As soon as August came around, and the pool closed, Billy took all of his savings and the four boxes it had taken to pack up everything he cared about, and left. Without a word, a text, or a note. He ran away from Hawkins, ran from his father, and from Steve, who had started talking about having movie nights and cooking dinner together and other domestic crap fuck buddies weren’t supposed to do together. 

He ran.

4. Hey Pretty Boy, Long Time No See

Billy loved Chicago. He had moved there with plans of just saving up enough to fly back to Los Angeles, but a year into living there he had fallen in love. Sure there were things he hated, like the winters and the tourists, but there were so many more things to love.

Like the food, and the people he had met. Both of which he was enjoying on a perfect summer’s day. And to top it all off, he was finally going to get a tattoo. 

Robin, a girl he had met through work and then started to hang out with after running into her at the annual Pride Parade, had convinced him to finally indulge in it, helped him work out what exactly he wanted, and even gave him a recommendation for a guy at her shop that specialized in the style of tattoos that Billy had decided he wanted. 

So, on the day of his appointment, he met Robin during her lunch break where they grabbed some tacos from a street car and walked back to her shop. Billy was silent, nervous as hell, but luckily Robin was enough of a chatterbox to fill the silence and keep it from getting awkward.

“You will love Steve, Billy. Swear to God he’s one of the sweetest people I’ve met.” She let out a small huff. “Of course he’s a total dingus, but so are you. Boom. Match made in Heaven.” She waved her hand around, almost dropping her taco, and Billy couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. 

That laughter died in his throat though, and he nearly choked on his own spit, as they walked through the door of The Mind Flayer Tattoos and Piercing because behind the desk was a face he never thought he would see again. 

Steve Harrington. 

Of course he had fantasized about this moment, had dreamed about those Bambi eyes and impish grin, even years later as it was. He had tried to distract himself, tried to move on, but he quickly realized it wasn’t working. Once he realized he had been silently comparing every other guy to Steve, he gave up, resigned himself to being alone, and had gotten a cat. 

Just like in high school though, all of his resolve to move on disappeared when faced with Steve Harrington. 

The years since high school had clearly been kind to him, and while Billy had always thought he was pretty, now he was downright gorgeous. His hair was still perfectly styled, but he had grown it out so that the ends just barely touched his shoulders. He was also wearing a pair of stylish glasses with thin golden frames that glinted softly in the warm lighting of the tattoo parlor. Most notably though, Billy could clearly see his left arm where it rested next to a book he bent over, and it was covered in a beautiful, intricate tattoo sleeve. All Billy wanted in that moment was to trail his fingertips over the black lines that formed shapes that resembled flowers. Looking closer though, he realized some of the flowers actually held rows and rows of teeth, and mixed in was the rough outline of a baseball bat with nails. It was a mural dedicated to his experiences that one fall day, a constant reminder of what he had been through.

Steve finally looked up at them as Robin led Billy to the counter, and he clearly recognized Billy, as his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened.

“Holy shit.”

Billy felt a small smile form as he lifted a hand and waved awkwardly at the boy he had left behind. “Hiay Pretty Boy. Long time, no see.” He had hoped that the nickname would lighten the mood, but instead Steve’s shock was replaced by hard lines and tense shoulders.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice was dripping in hostility, making Billy flinch slightly before tensing up as well. He knew he was the one in the wrong, but fuck if that had ever stopped him from being the weak one. 

Robin beat Billy to a response however, letting out a small noise before looking quickly between the two boys.

“I think I’m missing something here, and that something is big,so I’m jist going to walk over here and let you two work it out. Please don’t kill each other.” Despite the lingering angst in the air, both boys couldn’t hold back a chuckle as Robin walked away from them and disappeared into the back room. As the door swung shut though, and they were alone in the shop, the tension could be cut with a knife. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Steve said with a sigh, and all Billy could do was nod and follow him to a prepared work station in the back corner of the open-plan parlor. 

He double checked where the tattoo was going, on his right shoulder, and then gently placed the stencil on and smoothing it over. He removed the plastic to reveal a purple version of the tattoo and then nodded to where a full length mirror had been hung on the wall. 

Billy checked how it laid, and took in how the design had turned out once again. He had seen the draft in an email, but to see it on his body was an entirely different experience. It was a depiction of the beach, detailed with old school flowers and a setting sun, and a perfect symbol of Billy’s origins. He had decided that while he didn’t want to return to California, he wanted a reminder of the peace an evening on the beach brought him. 

Having confirmed that it was perfectly placed, he returned to the workstation and settled into the chair. The tension remained as Steve silently placed his arm in the best position and loaded the gun with ink. He returned to Billy’s side and sighed.

“You need to relax if you want me to actually do this.”

“Sorry, Pretty Boy. Guess you just fill me with butterflies,” Billy shot back, trying to regain some of the bravado that had conveniently left him. Steve snorted before setting down the tattoo gun and muttering Jesus and rubbing at his temple. 

“If we’re gonna do this, you gotta cut that shit out.”

“What shit?” 

“The- the fucking flirting and the nicknames. That shit.” 

“Sorry, Pretty Boy,” he emphasized the name with a cocky smirk. “It’s just part of the Hargrove charm.”

“Well if you want a good tattoo, you’ll dial back the Hargrove bullshit. Now take a deep breath and fucking relax.” Billy gave a sarcastic salute before deliberately taking a deep breath and dropping his shoulders. Steve rolled his eyes, but reserved all his smart comments in favor of starting the tattoo. 

They sat in relative silence, only broken by the gentle whir of the tattoo gun and Steve occasionally reminding Billy to not hold his breath. It wasn’t until Steve muttered a soft, “Halfway there tiger,” that he found the courage to break the silence. Whether consciously or not, Steve had used one of his favorite pet names for Billy and that action alone gave him hope that he hadn’t ruined their relationship completely when he left.

“Nice tats Harrington,” he said casually, nodding at his left arm. Steve snorted.

“Thanks. Of course, you know the whole story behind it. Robin and everyone at the shop just think it’s some insane movie monster they’ve never heard of.” 

“Yeah, not exactly the easiest thing to explain to people,” Billy agreed, nodding his head.

“As chill as Robs can be, I think if I tried to tell her I fought off intergalactic demon dogs with a nail bat and a group of four middle schoolers she would check me into the nearest institute.” 

Billy faked an offended gasp. “It wasn’t all middle schoolers, I was there too. Saved your ass at one point too.” 

“Bullshit you saved me. If I recall, you screamed like a little bitch until Max threatened you with my bat and then stole your keys. If she hadn’t threatened to drive your car I think you would never have come with.” There was a fire in Steve’s eyes now, a warmth Billy thought he would never be privy to again.

And then Steve looked up from his arm and his face shuttered back into stone. He wiped the excess ink and blood off of his arm and studiously ignored any more attempts Billy made at conversation, which ranged from commenting about the photos littering his workstation to commenting on the fucking weather. Eventually he got the message and shut his trap for the rest of the session. 

Steve walked him through the after-care steps clinically, and he faintly picked up the “wash with antibacterial soap twice a day” and “apply scent-free lotion when it starts flaking”, but his brain was mostly stuck on “touch-ups are free up to six months after the first appointment.” 

He still had a chance. Maybe the shock was too much, but if Steve was offering up the chance to meet again? 

Billy wouldn’t let it slip past.

  5. Let’s Try This Again

Billy loved his tattoo. He made sure to take meticulous care of it, applying lotion religiously and steadfastly ignoring the urge to pick at the peeling skin. Luckily, the amount of sunburns he got back in California prepared him for it pretty well. 

Even if it was healing perfectly, and he was ecstatic about the final result after it had finished peeling, he still decided to talk to Robin about scheduling a touch-up. She had looked it over when he asked while they were grabbing burritos, and told him that he definitely didn’t need a touch up, but when he continued to insist that he wanted another appointment she looked at him skeptically and agreed. 

He had it scheduled for a month after his initial appointment, and the weeks seemed to drag by as he eagerly awaited his second- well, technically third- chance with Steve.The day of, he and Robin agreed to the same schedule of grabbing lunch and then walking over to the shop together, but instead of Robin filling the silence, Billy instead prattled on about a couple cases he was looking over and how well they were going. As much as he could without breaking the NASW Code of Ethics of course. 

Robin nodded along agreeable and made all the right noises in the right places, but she was overall quieter than usual, until the shop got into view. 

A block away from the neon sign, she stopped them both and turned to Billy. “I’ve been pretty patient, but I have to know before we walk in there. What is the deal between you and Steve?” 

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about, Brat. There’s no story there,” Billy tried to brush it off and keep walking, but Robin was surprisingly strong for her slender frame. She grabbed his arm and forced him to stop. 

“That’s a blatant lie, and I can’t let you in there if you’re on some sort of weird revenge quest or something. He was seriously shaken up after your session, and I love you, but I love the dingus too.” She paired the serious tone of her voice with stern eye contact and a slight tightening of her hand on his bicep. 

“Jesus Robin,” Billy said, shrugging off her vice-like grip, “It’s nothing like that, I swear. If anything, I’m trying to fucking apologize.” She just raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with his explanation. “Fine. We went to high school together and I fucked up in a big way, alright? I regret it, and I want to try and make it up to him.” 

“Yeah, well. You seem to have forgotten that this-” she emphasized with a sharp point at the parlor “-is his work. His job. He doesn’t deserve you pestering him here of all places. Just do what everyone else does and fucking ask him out to coffee.” 

Feeling slightly chastised as only Robin could do, he looked down at the scuffs on his work boots and muttered, “Yeah, whatever.” 

Finally satisfied, she continued their walk to The Mind Flayer Tattoo and Piercings Shop, Billy trailing two steps behind her. 

The little bell tinkled again as the door opened, but this time Steve wasn’t at the front desk. Instead a tan woman with long, curly, dark hair was popping bubble gum and casually scrolling through her iPhone. All of the frustration seemed to seep out of Robin at once as she squealed, “Heather!” and launched herself at the girl behind the desk. 

Letting Robin and Heather do their thing, Billy wandered over to where he could see the top of Steve’s head peeking over the low wall of his work station. He could see that all of his focus was on a drawing pad, where he was carefully sketching out something in pencil. He was so in the zone that the tip of his tongue was poking through his teeth. Cute.

Loath as he was to break the peace on Steve’s face, he cleared his throat and called out, “Hey Harrington.” 

Steve, predictably, shot up out of his chair and whirled around to face Billy. “Jesus Christ Billy. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry, amigo. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What, no Pretty Boy?” Steve spit out as he tried to recoup from being startled. The tone brought back the sense of shame Robin had made him feel earlier, and he held up his hands in surrender.

“No, um,” he tried to start. “Actually, I’m here to ask if we could get a cup of joe? Talk some shit out?” Steve seemed startled by the proposal, but masked it with a suspicious glare. 

“Is this some kind of joke? You want to get coffee?” 

“Yeah. I want to- want to explain I guess.” Steve continued to glare at him, but after finding or not finding something, he nodded his head and sighed.

“Fine. Fuck it. You were my last appointment, so why the hell not.” Billy blinked, surprised that it had somehow been that easy to get Steve to agree. Maybe they could work it out, at least enough to be friends again. 

He decided to wait in the front area while Steve packed up his station and grabbed his bag from the back room, nodding at Heather and Robin when they left. 

They mutually agreed to walk the block down to a local coffee shop, called Joe’s Joe. Billy got a black iced coffee while Steve got a complexe medley of coffee, oat milk, and sugar. After they got their drinks, they sat at a table by the window. 

“Do you want to start?” Steve asked.

“I mean, I guess. That’s kind of why we’re here or whatever.” Billy hadn’t wanted to start out hostile, but his nerves were starting to get the best of him. He took a swig of his coffee, letting the scalding heat coat his tongue. “Just, I’m sorry I guess.”

“You’re sorry?” Steve asked indignantly, “For what? Fucking with me for an entire summer? Leaving without a single fucking word? Or just being an all around asshole?” 

“Technically, I was fucking you, not fucking with you,” Billy corrected absentmindedly, before wincing as Steve’s expression grew even more hostile. “Shit, I’m sorry. For- for everything alright? I was a dickhead, I shouldn’t have left but you have to underst-”

“I don’t have to do shit, Hargrove,” Steve interrupted. 

“No, you have to understand that I didn’t have a choice. I packed up and left in the span of like four hours. There wasn’t time to tell you.”

“There wasn’t time to send a fucking text? Call? Something? I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere. I had to find out from Max that you just pissed off to who knows where in the middle of the goddamn night. And you couldn’t bother to send anything? It’s been eight fucking years jackass.” Steve was almost yelling by the end of his rant, panting and visibly trying to calm himself down. 

“It didn’t seem like something to send over text, I just figured it was better to do a clean break. Let you move on.”

“Let me- Fucking hell, you let me move on?” Steve was borderline hysterical at this point. Billy wasn’t sure when he had lost control of the conversation so drastically, but he felt the chances of him and Steve rekindling some sort of friendship slipping away. This wasn’t how he wanted to do this at all. Fuck. 

“Yeah, because you shouldn’t be stuck with someone like me, Pretty Boy. I’m sorry I hurt you but I was stupid and young and I didn’t see any better way to do it.” 

“You fucking broke my heart Billy. You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that,” Steve said, and walked out of the coffee shop. 

  6. Billy Does Better

After the disastrous coffee date, Billy steered clear of everything to do with The Mind Flayer, including Robin. He buried himself in his work, doubled his gym hours, and let the weekends pass by in a haze of cheap whiskey. 

It took Robin a week to decide she was over him avoiding her. She stormed into his apartment on Sunday morning and forced him to take a shower, put on clean clothes and go with her to her apartment. 

Once there, she sat him down on the couch and told him in the sternest voice she had to stay, and then left him to go let in someone else. He really shouldn’t have been surprised at who it was, but he still blinked rapidly when Steve appeared in the doorway. 

“Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington?” Billy asked, his voice hoarse from the lack of water he had drank in the past 48 hours. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” If Billy sounded hungover, Steve sounded wrecked. He looked like it too, eyes rimmed red and puffy, lips chapped and bitten within an inch of their soft, plush life, and skin even paler than it usually was. Robin dragged him by the back of his shirt over to the couch, next to Billy, and pushed him down. 

“Alright. I tried to give you two assholes space to work it out yourselves, but I am officially over it, so you’re going to figure it out here and now. I’m going to go in the kitchen to make lunch and when I get back, I expect you both to at least stop moping like fucking widows.” She turned on her heel and marched into the kitchen, where she could give them some semblance of privacy, but would still be within ear shot if they decided to kill each other or something. 

Once she disappeared through the doorway, Billy turned hesitantly to face Steve, but when they made eye contact, any words he may have managed to string together left him and he was left there gaping like a fish. Steve saved him the trouble of starting though.

“You were moping?” He asked, voice quiet and defeated. 

“Yeah, Bambi. Pretty heavily too if Robin had to step in.” 

“What were you so upset about? You broke my heart after all.”

“Because I never meant to. I only meant to break my own damn heart, but not yours. Never yours Pretty Boy,” Billy’s voice was dripping in honesty and vulnerability, the dredges of alcohol still in his system making this entire situation exhausting. He just wanted to go back home and sleep until tomorrow. 

“You- you loved me too?” Steve sounded so damn unsure, it hurt Billy to hear. 

“Yeah, of course I loved you. That’s why I had to leave. I couldn’t love you and be under Neil’s roof. He would kill me. He would kill you. So I had to leave.”

“A clean break,” Steve finished for him. He didn’t sound as angry as he had at the coffee shop, more defeated. 

“Exactly.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments that seemed to stretch on for eternity before Steve finally broke it.

“So, where does that leave us?” 

“Can we, can we try friends?” Billy asked hesitantly, eager for any opportunity but scared to push his luck.

“Yeah. I think that could work,” he said with a faint smile. As if on cue, Robin burst through the kitchen door armed with a plate of sandwiches and snacks and declared it a movie night.

  7. Steve Takes A Leap

It had been two months since Robin’s forced intervention, and Steve couldn’t have been more thankful towards her. He had been scared that having Billy back in his life would drag up the memories he tried so hard to hide from, but it was actually refreshing to have someone to call when the memories came back, someone who understood what he was going through. 

He also realized how much he genuinely missed Billy himself. He had grown and changed for sure, but it was only in that he was far less angry all the damn time. Steve had really come to realize just how intense the hold Neil Hargrove had over his son in high school. Now the sharp wit Billy had wielded as a weapon in high school was more playful than hurtful, and his more self-destructive tendencies of driving recklessly and chain-smoking had been replaced by a gym membership and therapy. Apparently, Billy had gone through a lot of therapy. 

With all of the changes, he realized that it was just that much easier to find the Billy he had fallen in love with all those years ago. He had started recognizing the feelings a month into their rekindled friendship, but he waited for another month to make sure the spark was still there, that it wasn’t just him romanticising the past. They had added each other on snapchat and had even started a streak. It was at a solid 55 days that Steve finally made his move. 

It was a simple snap of his work station with the caption What are you doing Saturday night? 

Not even two minutes later he got a response. The picture was of Billy’s coffee mug he kept at his desk and said Nothing, wbu? 

He snapped another hasty shot of his station, replied, Thinking about going out. Wanna join?

Another notification, another shot of his mug. “ Sure. What’s the plan?”

He was in the middle of prepping his station for an appointment in twenty minutes, so it was a quick shot of sterile packaging. Dinner and then hit up a club I know in Boystown?

This time the response was immediate. Sounds good.

Cool, I’ll make a reservation for six? Then club at like 8?

Why do we need a reservation? Want to spoil little old me, Pretty Boy?

The old nickname gave Steve the courage he needed to finally take a selfie and stop beating around the bush. He gave the camera an impish grin and raised eyebrows. I just want to make our first date memorable. 

There was no response to that. Steve waited with bated breath, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously as the minutes ticked by. His appointment had shown up, and he finished the 45 minute session. Still no response. 

Anxiety coursed through him, swirling around in his head. He could see that Billy had opened the picture as soon as he had sent it, a whole hour ago. But no response. No notifications. Nothing. 

Steve tried to reason with himself that maybe he had a meeting or a lot of paperwork or something, but that didn’t stop him from bouncing his leg and fidgeting around until Robin finished her final appointment. 

She only needed to look at him once to know something was up. She decided they were going to dinner together, and they walked to the diner three blocks down in silence.

It wasn’t until they had sent in their orders that Robin finally broke. 

“Okay, what’s going on? I haven’t seen you this nervous since your first date with Julian,” she stated.

“I might have fucked up Robin. Like big time.” She sighed, used to Steve’s dramatic tendencies, and sipped at her strawberry milkshake. 

“I doubt that, but I need more information. So spill.” 

“I asked Billy on a date,” he blurted out, knowing there was no use in bullshitting Robin.

“And? Seems like a logical move, Dingus. I was getting sick of the intense pinning like ten days ago.” 

“But, he left me on read Robin. We were talking about going out on Saturday and then I mentioned it was a date and boom. Radio silence.” 

“Okay, chill out. He was probably busy at work. You know how seriously he takes that shit.” 

“Yeah, but no response for three hours?” He said, voice raising in pitch on the last words. 

“I’m sure there’s some explanation. Have you reached out again?” Robin’s patient and even tone calmed Steve down a little, but his leg still bounced up and down rapidly as he thought over what she said. 

“No. I didn’t want to pressure him.” 

“Just send something unrelated to the date. Like your milkshake. You’ve done it a million times, it’s safe.” 

“Yeah. Okay. I can do that.” He nodded to himself before pulling out his phone, only to see a single snapchat notification amongst the barrage of emails and other random updates. It was from Billy. 

He immediately felt his heart leap into his throat, and Robin reached over to grab his hand that was still resting on the table. 

“Is it from him?” She questioned, deliberately neutral. 

“Yep,” he choked out. His finger shook as he opened up his phone, and he felt paralized by the little blue box letting him know it was a text response. He took a deep breath before clicking on it.

Sorry I was MIA, Pretty Boy. Got busy with work, but I’d love to see where you want to take me. He included a winking and smirking emoji. Steve let out a startled laugh as the anxiety slowly dissipated. 

“Code red officially over. I have a date on Saturday,” he informed Robin, and they finished up dinner with casual conversation about their various appointments throughout the day. They paid and eventually parted ways towards their respective apartments. 

He trudged up the stairs because the elevator in his building was perpetually broken, but stopped in his tracks when his door got within view. There, resting innocently on his doormat, was a simple bouquet of sunflowers and baby’s breath. He gently picked them up and noticed a small piece of cardstock. In simple black scratch it read I am sorry for the no response. I got nervous. Bill.

Steve smiled gently at the note and pulled the flowers close to smell the soft fragrance they held. He felt another wave of confidence swell and push him to walk into the apartment and pick up his phone. He called Billy and waited in excited anticipation for him to pick up. 

“I love them,” he said, and smiled a little more when Billy chuckled.

“I’m glad. They made me think of you.”

“Can’t wait for Saturday,” Steve confessed and Billy finally smiled back. 

“Me too, Pretty Boy. Feels like it’s been years in the making.”

That it had been, but man had it been worth the wait. 

----

tag team: @lostnoise @gideongrace @stevefuckingharrington @a-magey @trashmouth-hargrove @catharrington (lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the list!)

[selenecrown]

Extreme Bias Game Writing - Leona Kingscholar

I’ve seen a bunch of people do this type of thing where they do stuff with their OCs during EBG games, and thought I’d do so as well to pass to time! So, here! Have my TWST OC Quentin interacting with Leona. I was also going to do it with Adahy, but then I ran out of ideas. Was gonna post sooner, but I got busy. Sorry about that. 

Quentin Nighty-Sallow wasn’t exactly one for sports. 

Not that she couldn’t do it, unlike other certain Dorm Leaders she often worked with, but she didn’t specialize in it compared to other people she knew at Night Raven College. Sure, one of her husbands did has an interest in a certain sport that she got involved with due to her desire to support him in whatever way she could, but other than that, she had decent grades in Andalasia within the Physical Education classes. 

But. . . Because of her homeland’s classes, she has capabilities that apparently above average in other countries. 

And that means unwanted attention for Quentin. Most notably in the sports department, from Savanaclaw students because of that one time she passed Leona Kingscholar during their first year.

It wasn’t a hot or cold day, honestly it was more. . . slightly brisk. It was cloudy outside, but it wasn’t going to rain but it did give some nice shade outside. There also was a light breeze, which added to the brisk temperature. 

For Quentin, on top of the weather, it was the perfect day to run since she was bored from her classes being completely introductory today and her needing to get the annoyance off her chest. 

Wow. I wasn’t expecting them using the whole class time for introductions. The  only Andalasian in the school grounds thought to herself, as she sighed in the stands of Night Raven College’s Coliseum. Well, it makes sense that we need it since we’re first years, but Magic, that was so long and boring. I’d rather sit through the entire lecture about the linage of the nobleman from Lady Ratched for a day. 

“Sallow! You’re up!” The brunette gym teacher bellowed from his place in the stands, with other first years around her seeming relived it wasn’t them who was called. 

“Yes Vargas sir!” She called back, and stood up from her spot in the stands within her classmates in 1-D, which was the class almost straight across from her teacher Aston Vargas. 

And then, the whispers came back.

‘Ah! The Andalasian is gonna try to run the track!’

‘Really? Pfffft. He won’t make it that far. Look at him. He’s got nothing on him!’

‘You think he’ll make it without passing out?’

‘I bet 50 Madol not!’

‘He speaks so weird too. You think that’s his accent?’

‘No way. I bet he’s learning Common from hearing us. His accent must add to it.’

‘I’m actually kind of excited for this. He’s in my other classes and he looked so bored in the others classes and the teachers didn’t bat an eye at it. What a prick! This’ll teach him a lesson!’

Quentin simply walked up to the track and stood next to an Savanaclaw student. A lion beastman with dark brown hair and green eyes from what he looked like at Quentin’s quickly glance of him.

“So you’re the Andalasian?” The lion beastman simply chuckled as he scanned Quentin’s transformed body that she’d recently drank a potion to change to be more male looking. “You’re more pathetic-looking than I’d thought you’d be.”

“What of it?” Quentin simply answered, not even looking at the beastman and getting into her normal running position, which was her just pushing one of her feet back and arching her other leg forward and then tapping both of her feet on the track. Though, tapping her feet on the pavement on the track was more out of habit then anything else.

“I picture you much differently.” The Savanaclaw student smirked confidently as he crouched down to the ground in his running position without breaking eye contact with her, “I thought you’d have some meat on you. You’re so fucking skinny, it’s sad. Shit, you have an eating disorder?”

Ah. He’s one of those types of people-

Quentin was about to respond before she saw the instructor’s starter pistol being raised in the air, and after a few seconds of Quentin not answering him, the beastman seemed confused at first as to why he was being ignored until he saw the starter pistol about to be set off, and then he confidently smirked and looked ahead of him.  

“Are you ready, skinny freshman?!” Vargas yelled as the starter pistol’s sound rang out into the air. 

As soon as the puff of air sounded in the air, two freshman dashed in front of the frazzled other freshman that once stood at the same starting line as the two that took off. 

One freshman was a Savanaclaw student that rushed ahead with the power of a panther and seemed to intimate the other students at the starting line with just his smug and confidant smirk, like he knew he’s going to wipe the floor with the other students despite the other student rushing past him as if he were walking.  

While the other student of Ramshackle dorm at seemed purely focused on the task at hand, which gave her a look of pure confidence and slightly prideful look on her face like she was looking down on everyone else, when in reality she was trying to work through her anger from her classes in her head while running.

The Andalasian moved almost inhumanly to the others on the coliseum, even seeming to stun the instructor and the lion beastman for a few minutes, like she had managed to push the boundaries of the human body’s capabilities, as the the others in the area, she seemed to be moving just as fast as a beastman would be able to. She was leaving everyone else in the dust with her running, and was not slowing down any time soon. 

The dark brown haired beastman seemed pretty amused by at the Ramshackle student’s running ability as he let out a loud laugh that seemed to scare some students as he seemed to be getting ready to sprint. 

“Haha! Now, that!” the beastman once more confidently smirked. “Is what I’m talkin’ about.”

The sprint the beastman gave had a gust of air that caused some students to slow down their running to a jog, but it seemed to get him close enough to Quentin to talk. 

“Well, count me impressed. I didn’t expect you to be a cheetah in a mouse’s clothing.” He laughed once more as the girl seemed to take notice of him. 

“Ah, really?” She answered innocently, looking towards the lion beastman that now ran next to her left side.

“Certainly better than the herbivores over there.” the boy laughed as he ran. “They’re still behind us.” 

The lion beastman motioned behind him, where there indeed was the other group of students a decent miles away. They didn’t even seem to be half of the way done while Quentin and the beastman certainly was almost to the three-fourths mark. 

“Indeed.” Quentin said, as she looked behind her within even slowing down. “They’re much slower than I expected. I thought since Andalasia was old-fashioned compared to other countries I’d be the last one. It seems I overestimated some here.”

The Beastman snorted at that comment. “Cocky. I like you already. But you can’t beat me.”

“Oh, really now?” Quentin smirked as the two came closer to the finishing line, gaining some amusement from the beastman’s cockiness.  

“I’ll race ya.” 

“For what? You do not exact seem like one to do something without a reward.” 

“Preceptive, aren’t you? The winner gets the other’s good stuff from their lunch.” 

Quentin seemed to think on it a few seconds, and then simply sighed like she knew she wouldn’t win this argument. “Then, I accept.”

The beastman smirked at her accepting her challenge, and then sprinted ahead, then a few seconds followed by Quentin doing the same. The two freshman kept sprinting and sprinting until one of them crossed the finish line. 

And the winner crossed the line with a surprised look on their face, as if they weren’t expecting this to happen. 

Even to this day, three years later, Quentin Nighty-Sallow gets challenges from an assortment of people who thought they’d be the strongest in the school in the beat her. Though, it’s mostly Savanaclaw students who want to place Leona’s place, mostly under the guise of not wanting the rumor of somebody being above their dorm leader. It’s been a while since she got any other dorm on the account of beating Leona. Last time she got a student from another dorm. . . Wasn’t it from Octavinelle? Oh well. it was so long ago Quentin could barely remember. 

Like challenging a person for a challenge three effing years ago will prove anything to anybody.

But, if it made them happy, Quentin guessed. 

“Hey!” Someone called. “Ramshackle brat!” 

Oh Mana. Not now with the Savanaclaw idiots. Please, for Magic’s sake, I’ve got a meeting with Crewel in ten minutes. Quentin thought angrily to herself, as she gripped at stack of papers she was holding to express her anger. He’ll give me more lab work if I’m late!

“Yes?” Quentin simply asked in her kind voice as she smiled, stopped and turned to the students who called her.

Huh. Only two this time. 

“I heard recently you beat my dorm leader in a race.” One of the Savanaclaw students growled at her, Well, he did actually growl at her after he spoke. Not that good of a growl, but still good enough to get a message across. He was a dog beastman, from his physical features.

“Oh really?” Quentin asked, in her innocent tone. “You heard that old rumor?”

“Rumor?!” the other half-Beastman Savanaclaw student simply yelled. A half-horse beastman, from his looks. “We heard it from from forth year buddy! They saw the whole thing!”

“Really?” Quentin simply said, putting an arm on her hip. “Can you tell me who is the forth year who told you?”

The dog beastman made a ‘tch’ noise. “You sayin’ we’re lying?”

“No. I asked who told you the rumor. I want to know where they got the information from.” Quentin said simply. 

“You’re really asking for a lesson, huh you stuck up brat?”

“Yeah, might as well teach them whose boss around here.” The other student finally spoke up as the two got closer to Quentin in an attempt to intimate her, which didn’t work that well since she stood where she was without fear. “Nobody messes with us.”

Great. They won’t listen to reason. Well, at least I’m outside the Greenhouse, or Crewel would’ve killed me for fighting in there.

“Oi. Whose being so noisy?” A voice from behind Quentin said that she recognized, and he did not seem particularly happy at the moment. “I just got up from a quick nap. What’re you all doing makin’ so much noise?”

“Dorm leader!” The Savanaclaw student’s face changed from anger to surprise when they saw Leona walk into the area. “But, Bucchi said-”

“Crewel got me up to go find Nighty-Sallow.” Leona simply said, as he walked up to Quentin and pat her on the shoulder. “He said something about teacher meeting he forgot about.”

Quentin then looked over to her fellow dorm leader with a look of shock, and then of understanding. “I see. Thank you for going through the trouble, Leona.” Quentin simply thanked the lion beastman, who smiled a smug smile in recognition. 

Leona then turned to his fellow Savanaclaw students. “Move it you two. I gotta have a word with him about somethin’.” 

“Yes Dorm Leader!” the two Savanaclaw student said, and quickly ran away, leaving the two dorm leader by themselves outside the large greenhouse. 

After a few minutes of silence between the two as the watched the other two students leave, Quentin spoke up. 

“So, do I owe you one for Crewel waking you up?” Quentin simply asked, turning her body fully towards Leona and holding the papers she had in both of her arms. 

Leona closed his eyes for a few seconds, as if thinking. Then he showed a face of annoyance. “Yeah. He chewed me out really hard today on top of everything else.”

“Sorry about you dealing with that on my account. Anything in particular you want?” The Ramshackle dorm leader asked casually, as the sun started to go down. 

“You to cook some meat for me.” The Savanaclaw dorm leader said, “Adahy’s cooking gets tiring after a while.”

“Ah, really? I thought you liked his cooking.” She teased.

“It gets tiring to eat after a while. Ruggie hasn’t wanted to cook much lately, either.” He sighed and rubbed his head out of habit. 

“Any day in particular you want?”

“Today.”

“What?! So suddenly?!” The girl’s face seemed like she was pouting for a few seconds, and then she simply sighed. “Alright, fine. I do owe you one. But my juniors will come over too. I promised I’d teach Grim how to cook some tuna today.”

“Sure, sure. Just don’t blow up my dorm or you’re paying for it.”

“Yessir.”

[ocular-intercourse]

@mangosandchili No.2 of (?), 14 questions Ace edition

🌲 What is the kindest thing your OC has ever done for someone? What is the kindest thing someone has ever done for them? On the flip side, what is the worst thing your OC has done to another person?

i.. I don’t know?? He just.. doesn’t deal with other people all that much. He’d probably consider it kind leaving other people be and not annoying them to death. I suppose his loyalty to his brother is rooted in kindness. Oh actually, it’s really less about what kind thing he has done as a singular situation, it’s more about his kindness potential. Given the situation he’d chose to do the kind thing, he’s just not quite aware of it cause he tends to stay away from situations, period. His misanthropy is very superficial. The other way around is pretty similar, people don’t get the chance to be kind to him very often. I guess Ben & later Ellie sticking around could be considered kind. The worst thing he has done would be just being purposefully difficult, pushing people away, building walls, being annoying and a little reckless. The curve is pretty flat in either direction.

🌳 What does your OC do when they see others upset or in pain? An upset friend? A stranger?

Look around if someone else is there to help, if yes, leave it to them, if no.. begrudgingly help. Depends on the situation too. If someone is physically hurt that would be easier for him than trying to console emotional distress. Once again, he would do pretty much anything for Ben, Ellie or his brother (pre attempted murder.. maybe a little bit after). But he really struggles with reacting to emotion, he would uncomfortably offer his presence and then not know what to do next, just sitting there, quietly patting backs.

🌿 What is something true about your OC that they refuse to admit about themselves? Is there any reason to this besides embarrassment?

He loves and he cares so much. He’s just, either trained or naturally, not really able to show it. Emotional constipation. He’d like to believe he’s as distant to things and people as he pretends to be, but he’s not. He just does not have the tools to communicate it to himself and others.

🍃 Describe a regular day for your OC. What is their schedule (if they have one).          

I think Ace feels like he’s a chaotic person, other people definitely see him that way, but he actually has his set routines, they just swap around sometimes. Generally he has classes in the morning, he’s late to them most of the time cause he has difficulties getting up and following authoritarian instructions. After that probably back to his room, dick around on the internet, make some music, just chilling, some swordfight training maybe. If it’s dark out you’ll more likely than not find him outside somewhere, on the roof, taking in the night.

🍁 What is your OC’s most traumatic experience? (If they don’t have just one traumatic experience either pick one or describe them all!)

Finding out his brother is part of some weird cult that is currently attacking and killing children and teenagers. Swiftly followed by said brother killing him when Ace confronts him about it. Or trying to kill him, more accurately. But the intention was there. Though Ace very much wants to doubt that. Traumatic event still pending: Finding out that he himself tried to join said cult to follow in his brother’s steps as he always has done but being rejected and his memory having been erased.

🍄 How would your OC react to the death of a friend/family member/loved one? Is there anyone they can confide in?

Hmm I don’t think Ace is equipped to confront that reality at all. Definitely not outwardly. He’s too good at bottling up stuff, he does not know what else to do with his emotions. He’d just quietly stew in it, refuse to talk about it. He won’t expect it to get better, it’s just part of his life now. But the grief is also kinda weirdly suspended by the whole underworld thing. So he’d just.. kinda ride it out till he can do anything about it. Action is much easier, he’ll focus on that. No idea what exactly he’ll be able to do, but the thought helps.

🌾 What would your OC be like if they were evil. Or if they’re already evil what would they be like as the good guy?

He’d just be the Ace he’s pretending to be most times. Not caring about the people around him, except maybe a few exceptions. Not actively cruel, but cold, calculated. Letting people suffer because it has nothing to do with him, it’s not his responsibility, even if it is right under his nose and he could easily reach out to help.

💐 How would your OC react to somebody telling them that they love them? (+ bonus give another characters/OC name!)

Oh, he has his mastered poker face it would be really hard to coax a reaction out of him. Ace and his brother are both the kind of people who would cloak i love you’s in jokes and irony and sarcasm, like proclaiming it cartoonishly and over the top so it seems like a joke when it’s really not. Genuine serious i love you’s would definitely catch him off guard. He’d still try to play it off with jokes, or react as if it did not faze him, just shrug it off. I don’t think he’d get himself to respond with his own feelings, at least not very often. That’s just too much, too intimate, too raw. He’d rather show his love than talk about it, and even that would be very much hidden and not talked about meaning-wise. He’ll leave the interpreting to others. When Ben or Ellie tell him they love him it’s like an ice cold hand squeezing his heart, and then molten lava in his belly. It’s not a negative thing by any means, and he will cherish a proclamation of love, cling onto it very much, but it is still very uncomfortable for him to hear.

🌷 What does your OC hate about themself? What lies about themself do they believe? On the flip side, What does your OC love about themself?

He hates this invisible wall between him and anybody else. He hates that he can’t figure out if he built it himself or if it has always been there. He hates that he does not know whether him not being able to tear it down is his own fault, or something he has no control over no matter how hard he tries. So he just blames himself, cause that’s most likely, believes that this is just himself being intrinsically bad in some way, at the very base. Something inside him must really not care, or else he’d be able to change things, right? If he really tried. Maybe it’s in the way his brother raised him, he never gave him the tools to socialize properly, and now it’s too late to change, if he can change at all. So he believes his own lie about not liking or caring for other people, about being emotionless. (ace really is the oc that gets all of my bullshit huh, sorry baby) Some parts of this he loves too. If he looks at people and the problems they create for themselves because of their emotions and ties to other people, how they hurt their own feelings over unnecessary things, he’s sometimes just really really happy to be able to distance himself from some of these things, of being able to not take things personally or interpret hurtful meanings into things other people say instead of just taking them literally and get on with it. He likes his humor and he is damn proud of his talents. He prides himself on his loyalty.

🥀 What is something your OC blames themselves for and is it really their fault? Does it keep them up at night and is there any lingering trauma?

I think the answer to this is mostly in the answer before this. He blames himself for some of his characteristics even if he has no control over them cause they are conditions he was born with. He feels inhuman sometimes, there’s just something other people naturally do that he can’t imitate and he can’t shake the feeling that it’s his fault somehow, or he’s just broken. It’s not, he’s not. He could have certainly gotten better help in accepting and dealing with these feelings, but really there’s nothing much he himself can do about it. It does not necessarily keep him up at night, but it’s definitely a pit in his stomach when he gets to a situation that points out this rift between him and others.

🌺 In what situation would your OC be pushed to commit an act of violence? Would they go as far to kill someone if they had to? How would this affect them and their relationships with others?

He is not somebody that would even show a reaction to being provoked, he’s too calm, too focused on controlling his expression and emotions. So you won’t see him tied into brawls or anything. He would however kill in self-defense, to protect himself and others (not just his loved ones, anybody in need). I think if there was undeniably the need to premeditatedly kill somebody to keep something bad from happening he might just be able to do that too, but only in a ‘no other choice this person is irredeemable’ kind of situation. I’ve mentioned it before, he has killed in self-defense, but that’s not necessarily unusual in his world. I don’t think people expect it to affect him very much, he sure doesn’t let it show. He is also pretty good at shutting himself off of any emotion he’s experiencing. People around him might worry a bit, about it affecting him negatively in the long run. Ben is mostly happy he has someone who steps in to do these things when he himself would rather not. Ellie has no problem killing, so she and Ace would just be in silent agreement about it not being pretty, but necessary.

🌸 What would your OC do if they were given god-like powers or the ability to change anything about the world for a whole day?

Ace would consider doing something ridiculous and stupid. Every person on the planet suddenly making clown shoe squeaky noises when walking.. But in a last minute kind of decision he’d suddenly realize he can use this to learn everything he needs to learn. About his brother, that organization, the gods, who killed JFK… He’d go on a wild conspiracy theory tangent, figuring out what’s true and what isn’t. Ace knowing the secrets of the universe…powerful, scary. He’d probably do nothing with it afterwards, just because that would drive people insane, knowing what he knows and not utilizing it.

🌼 Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

Being truly, utterly alone. He puts so much into believing he could exist all by himself, that he would have no problem with nobody liking him, nobody caring. He’s just trying to prepare himself in case that fear ever becomes true, if he tells himself enough how he does not care maybe it will be true when he needs it someday.

🌻 What advice would your OC give to their younger self? What advice does your OC need now?

He would have to reach an especially enlightened mode for this but: Don’t be as exclusionist. Look out of the metaphorical window from time to time. Look at how other people live their lives, what they value, how they treat each other. There is nothing wrong with accepting the things your brother teaches you and live by your own rules instead of society’s generalized ideas of right and wrong. But there is value in comparison sometimes, to put things in perspective. Advice for now would be similar, but more in the line of: It is okay to recognize and admit that you have been hurt, that does not weaken who you are. Also: Don’ put people on pedestals as much, they are not infallible, believing so will only disappoint and hurt you.

[celtics534]

Power (Covert Love Chapter 10)

Here we go! Hope y’all ready for some drama 😉. This chapter’s title comes from the song Power by Bastille 

Also Read on: FF.net or AO3

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“Fuck, Potter, you weren’t messing around!” Holt cheered as the team walked back into the locker room after their victory flight. 

 Harry shrugged, his cheeks turning pink. Ginny knew better than most how awkward compliments made Harry. She herself loved to be the one who caused that cute blush. “It was luck.”

 “Luck?!” Joy snorted at Harry’s claim. “I’ve never heard of luck that involved a fifteen-meter dive and nearly knocking the opposing seeker off their broom. No, that was all skill.”

 “Not to mention it was in the first fifteen minutes of the match.” Ariel nodded approvingly at Harry. “Incredible.”

 “And let’s not forget about the queen herself.” Joy winked Ginny. “Seventy points in fifteen minutes. Should we start bowing now or wait until later?”

 Ginny laughed. It wasn’t the first time Dan had called her queen. At first, it had been his way of flirting with her, but after denying his advances enough times the context had become nothing more than friendly. “A curtsy whenever I enter a room will suffice.”

 The energy in the room was higher than Ginny had ever experienced. It seemed winning in two hundred and fifty to ten really energized a group. 

 “So we’re still down for that fire tonight, right, Canon?” Joy asked as he pulled off his jersey, throwing it into the team laundry collection.

 Prue clapped her hands together. “Oui! I have everything all set.”

 “All we really need is a high fire and some decent spirits,” Holt came about to slap Harry on the back. “You down for a little drink game, Potter?”

“Errrr…” Harry glanced over at Ginny. She could see the worry in his eyes. It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going through his head. If he got drunk, then he wouldn’t be at top form, which would be a real problem for his protection duty. 

 Protection duty. Ginny still couldn’t believe that Harry had been assigned to guard her. All because her brother had gone to his old buddy, who happened to currently head the Irish Auror department. Not to mention that they suspected that her crazed stalker could be someone within the Bat’s organization. Ginny just couldn’t imagine any of her teammates or staff being that… deranged.  

 That night everything had been… revealed, she and Harry’d had a long discussion. Now that Ginny knew about Harry’s assignment, he was able to bring her up to date with all the intel he had. Well, technically he wasn’t supposed to, which he’d informed her after his recap. If Harry had gone by the books, he should have called an Obliviation squad to alter her memory so she’d have no idea about his actual profession. By not calling the squad he was going rogue, which in turn meant he’d face drastic disciplinary action if his superiors found out about his disregard for the basic undercover rule.  

 She’d had to ask if he was okay with risking the career he’d worked for his entire adult life. It was easier than asking what she was truly wondering: if he'd grow to resent her if something happened. Ginny knew no relationship should hold resentment, and rancor of that caliber would crush both of them in the end. 

 But he’d simply smiled and reached across the small gap between them. He’d pulled her into his side, holding her as if nothing else in the world mattered. The kiss he placed on top of her head seemed to spread down her entire body. “It would one hundred percent be worth it.” 

 Now four days later, just the memory of the affection in his tone expanded a ball of warmth throughout her gut. Well, that and flashback to his demonstration of how he'd spend his days if he didn't have to work anymore.  

 "So, Weasley," Ariel's voice drew Ginny out of her lovely reminiscence. She could feel the heat on her cheeks but hoped it wasn't bad enough for McKidd to notice. "You up for a little drinking competition tonight?”

 “What kind of competition?” Ginny asked warily. McKidd was infamous for contests that would result in everyone involved waking with no recollection of the night before. Typically Ginny was game for such activities, but tonight she’s planned a personal celebration for herself and Harry that she wanted to remember. 

 “Oh, nothing too extreme.” The smile curling Ariel’s lips told Ginny that it was going to be extreme. “Just a gauntlet.”

 Joy and Holt whooped as Ginny’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?” The last time they’d done a gauntlet… well, Ginny hadn’t been able to smell Gillyweed since without feeling sick. “Why?!”

 “Why not!” McKidd laughed like a child opening a present at Christmas. “Last time was fun.”

 “We ended up in muggle prison!”

 Ariel waved off Ginny’s rebuttal “Only for a few hours. Besides, we made friends, didn’t we.”

 Ginny rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, good Ol’ Mad Dog and Karl.” 

 “Exactly! I still sometimes visit Mad Dog. For a muggle, he’s a wizard at chess.” Ariel winked.

 Ginny was afraid she was rolling her eyes so much that they might get stuck. “Yes because being good at chess makes up for him stealing that, what was it, a kool bus.”

 It was Ariel's turn to roll her eyes. “He said he’d return it but they didn’t let him. But that’s not what we’re talking about here.�� She pointed a challenging finger at Ginny “Are you changing the subject because you’re scared, Weasley?”

 Ginny knew she had been caught. She couldn’t turn down a direct challenge like that, not just because every eye in the locker room was on her, but because her Weasley pride wouldn’t allow it. Taking a deep breath, Ginny forced a confident smile. "Not for me. I was simply trying to save you, but if you want to take on the reigning champ I won't stop you." 

 "Damn, Weasley." Joy let out a long, slow whistle. "Them be fightin' words." 

 "And you never fight with an Irish woman and expect to win." McKidd grinned at her as she grabbed a fresh towel from the stand. "Start drinking water now, you're gonna need it." She walked out of the room, her towel swung over her shoulder. 

 Prue smiled at Ginny. "As long as no one vomits in my lilies -" 

 "Hey!" Ginny interrupted. "That was one time!"

 "We will have a good night.” Prue was a few inches taller than Ginny, so she had to lean down to kiss both cheeks. “See you tonight.” Then she was gone from the room. 

 Ginny looked around, most of the team had left too (to most likely shower or grab something to eat). The only remaining people were Joy, herself, and Harry. She walked over to where Harry and Joy talked animatedly.   

 "How do you know so much about the law, Potter?" Joy was asking. 

 Harry's lips curled into an amused smirk. "I just like to know my rights.” 

 “Don’t we all,” Joy laughed. He turned to Ginny once she reached them. “So, Weasley, completing in another gauntlet, huh? You sure you’re up for it? I haven’t seen you at any celebrations recently.” His smirk became too knowing for Ginny’s liking. “It’s like you’ve had something, or maybe someone, better to do.” The way his eyes flickered back and forth between Harry and Ginny. It was as if her heart dropped into her stomach.

 “How did you find out?” she asked, impressed with her ability to keep her voice level while the rest of her felt like she was hanging off the edge of a cliff. Had they been too obvious? Did the others know? What about her stalker? Was Harry now in danger --

 Joy’s laugh cut off her rapid thoughts. “I saw you two snogging outside of the showers after practice a while back.” 

 Ginny’s imagination instantly took her back to that day. Harry had just gotten out from under the spray, a towel loosely tied at his hips. Water had still glistened off him and he had just looked so… good. She hadn’t been able to resist running her hands up into his still-damp hair and kissing him. She’d thought her quick observation of the room had been enough to notice anyone, but apparently her eyes really had only been for Harry if Joy had been able to see them. 

 She looked over at Harry. He was biting his lower lip and she knew his mind was playing out the numerous complications this presented. If Joy said something to the wrong person… 

 Ginny turned back to Dan, hoping she’d twisted her lips into a convincing sheepish smile. “Dan, I mean what do you expect me to say?”

 Joy shrugged, his grin still wide. “I mean I wouldn’t object to some details.” He winked. 

 Preventing her eyes from rolling took more resolve than Ginny thought she had at the moment, but somehow she managed. “How about no.”

 “Can’t blame a bloke for trying.” Joy laughed. “So, how long has it been going on? I mean, I always sensed something between you two, but you seemed rather comfortable from where I had been standing.”

 “A few months now,” Harry spoke for the first time since Joy’s obvious implication. He was paler than usual, but his gaze was focused and alert, as he stared at his friend. The way Harry seemed to be evaluating every part of Joy with just his eyes was intense… and hot. Did they teach him that at the academy? “Joy, would you mind keeping this between us? Ginny and I are - we don’t want any hassle from the rest of the team.”

 Dan blinked once, twice, a third time before nodding slowly. “Yeah, I can do that.”

 That was one thing Ginny had always loved about Joy. Though he could be a bit of a sadist when it came to his jokes, he always seemed to know when to pull back and be serious. Apparently the look in Harry’s eyes showed the severity of his request.  

 “Thank you, Dan.” Harry’s shoulders sagging relief. “We really appreciate that. I know it sounds weird --”

 Joy waved a hand, his usual bright smile in place. “Nah, I get it. If everyone knew… well, the teasing would be relentless.”

 “Yeah, exactly.” Ginny gratefully agreed with the half-truth. There was so much more to their secrecy than just a bit of pestering, but Dan didn’t need to know that. She pulled Joy into a hug. “You’re the best.”

 “And here I thought I was the only one you said that too.” 

 Ginny flinched as she recognized the new voice. She pulled away from Joy, holding back a growl. “Dr. Hogan.” 

 Finn was beaming as he approached them. He seemed to be taking in the group, his eyes flicking between the three of them “No need for such formalities, I mean we all know each other on a personal level.” When his attention landed on Ginny, his scrutiny became more like a leer. “Some better than others.”

 Ginny’s fists clenched. She had to remind herself that hitting a member of staff was completely frowned upon, no matter how much of a prat they were. However, there was no rule about sounding happy to see them. Making sure to keep her expression neutral, Ginny let her disdain out in her tone. “What can we help you with?”

 Finn's smile never wavered, but Ginny noticed the flash of annoyance in his eyes. Good! “I was coming over to congratulate you all on a superb win. And I wanted to check over your shoulder, Ginny. I noticed you were holding it rather stiffly after that fifth goal. It won’t take more than a minute.” 

 Oh, he was good! It was such a legitimate excuse to talk to her… hell, it even was a reason for the two of them to be alone, which Ginny had been trying to avoid as much as possible. If she refused it would make her out to be a problem. 

 To be fair she had felt a little stiff, but she had just intended on taking a hot shower and asking Harry for one of his splendid massages, which tended to help her entire body relax. Gritting her teeth, Ginny took in a deep breath before giving Finn a fake smile. “Sure, I can spare a minute.”

 Joy clapped his hands together. “Well, I’m not needed here anymore.” He took a step towards the door before pausing. “Oh, hey, Doc?”

 Finn tore his eyes off Ginny for the first time since they landed on her. “Yeah?”

 Ginny ignored Dan and Finn’s conversation to focus on Harry. His expression was blank, but Ginny knew that he was feeling more than he could share. Harry wasn’t the kind of bloke who wore his heart on his sleeve for anyone to see. He left very few people in, and Ginny was grateful every day that she was one of the selected. Because she had been granted an insider’s view, Ginny had learned that when looked uncaring and detached (like now), there was so much happening in his head. 

 But right at that moment, Ginny could sense his… ire more than see it. She had to assume it was all directed at Finn. She’d shared her history with Harry before they’d even started dating. He had been outraged on her behalf, claiming he would have held the guy’s arms while she hit him. At the time, he had made Ginny smile. Harry somehow always found a way to make her smile.

 It took a few moments, but eventually Harry seemed to feel her stare. When he finally looked at her, she raised a brow, silently asking what he planned on doing. Harry wrinkled his nose, clearly knowing there wasn’t anything he could do and not liking it one bit. 

 “Ginny?” Finn’s voice pulled her attention away from Harry. 

 “Hmm? Oh, yeah.” She gave a curt nod. “A quick check-up isn’t a bad idea.” 

 “Great!” That bright, lewd smile fell back into place as Finn gestured towards the staff rooms. “My office awaits.” 

 As Ginny started to head in the direction Finn had pointed, an idea struck her. She stopped and turned to look at Harry, who was glaring daggers into Finn’s back. “Hey, Harry. Would you mind grabbing my bag out of my locker and bringing it to the exam room? I have an appointment I can’t be late for and it would be so much easier if I just leave from there.”

 “I don’t know --” Finn started, a frown forming on his face, but Harry cut him off. 

 “It will be my pleasure. I’ll be there in five minutes.” Harry grinned crookedly at Finn, clearly gloating at the other man’s irritation. “Always ready to help.”

 “Perfect.” Ginny beamed at Harry. “See you then.” She turned and started down the corridor, not bothering to check and see if Finn was following. When she reached the exam room, which was combined with Finn’s office, Ginny stopped. 

 Finn had apparently been hot on her heels, seeing as how he was instantly at the door, tapping his wand and opening it wide. He held the door, stepping aside so Ginny could enter. 

 Ginny hadn’t been in the medical room since Atlas had left. In Finn’s short time of being the team’s primary, he’d made the room his own. Gone were Atlas’ posters of calming meadows and streams. Finn had hung portraits of, what Ginny had to assume were, medical professionals.

 “Have a seat.” Finn pointed towards the bed that sat in the corner of the room.

 Ginny shook her head. “I think I’ll stand, thanks. My legs feel fine.” 

 “Why are you --” Finn cut himself off. His chest rose and fell with the deep breaths he took. After a few seconds, he held up his hands in surrender. “All right then. Well, will you at least take off your robe and shirt so I can see at your shoulder?”

 The day Finn had come back into her life, she and Harry had gone back to her place. Harry had instantly pulled her into his arms. He’d run a hand up and down her back, reminding her of his offer. That had pulled her out of her melancholy mood. She’d kissed him for his valiant offer but told him it wasn’t necessary. Harry had kissed the top of her head. They’d stayed like that for a few seconds before Harry told her he was going to do a background check on Finn. She’d pulled back to give him a knowing look, figuring Harry was dealing with a little green-eyed monster, but he had shot that thought down. “It’s weird that he just shows up after you’ve received threats. Who knows, maybe he doesn’t want you but doesn’t think anyone else should have you.”

 For some reason, that moment replayed in her mind as she took off her robe. Harry had told her his dig into Finn’s file hadn’t wielded any devious inclinations, but she still had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach as she slowly removed the long-sleeved jersey she wore. 

 Finn smiled at her, which she was sure was supposed to be comforting, but all it did was make her want to leave even sooner. She could remember him giving her that smile as they’d walked down the coast, watching the sunset over the English Channel. That had been the day she’d told him she loved him. The day he’d said it back. The day she’d agreed to give herself to him in every way possible. Then two weeks later he dumped her. She hated that smile… that damn smile.

 He moved around her body so he stood behind her. “Can you roll your shoulder for me?”

 Ginny took a deep breath before following his commands. After rolling, she needed to stretch out her arms wide. She could feel his warm fingers sliding along her skin, brushing the strap of the vest she’d worn under her kit. 

 “Now can you reach up high?” Finn asked. “Good.” Again his fingers pushed into her shoulder. “So, Ginny, I’ve been wanting to talk.” 

 “There isn’t anything --” Ginny tried to cut him off, but Finn overrode her.

 “Yes, there is. I need to apologize and you wouldn’t let me do it before.” She looked over her shoulder at his face. He had a self-deprecating look in his eyes. “I treated you like shit.”

 Ginny turned around so she could see all of him. His hand had gone to rub the back of his neck. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I was a scared seventeen-year-old who didn’t know what I really wanted in life. When you started getting --” He waved his hands in an uncommitted gesture. “I panicked and said things that weren’t true. Then even worse, I ran. I know I hurt you and I just wanted - no needed -- for you to know I’m sorry.”

 She hadn’t thought she would ever hear this come out of Finn’s mouth, and Ginny had reached peace with that. But now… It took a few moments to close her mouth, which had gone wide during his explanation. “I --” Now it was her turn to clear her throat. “Thank you for saying all that.” 

 “I mean it.” Finn pressed, his expression imploring. “I hate that I hurt you.” 

 And Ginny believed him. When she looked into his eyes, she saw only the truth staring back at her. She nodded, not knowing what to say. 

 They remained silent for a few seconds before Finn let out a long breath. “Thank you, Ginny.” He pointed at her shoulder. “Should be fine, but you should ice it tonight.”

 “Okay.” Ginny still had no idea what she should say. Instead of speaking, she grabbed her robe and pulled it back on, forgoing the dirty jersey that lay beside it.

 “Now that we’ve got that settled, I know you have plans tonight, but I was wondering if you were free for dinner sometime this week.” Finn’s smile became suggestive. 

 And just like that Ginny’s warm feeling toward this man left. “Really?” 

 He shrugged that smile widening. “I’m older and wiser than I was all those years ago. And wiser me knows I couldn’t do better than you. I was hoping after I admitted my faults that you might give me a second chance.” 

 Was it appropriate for her to tell him she’d rather date a one-eyed troll?  

 “I don’t think so, Finn.” 

 “Why not?” Finn moved in closer. Ginny could now smell his cologne (a simple fresh fragrance that was nothing compared to Harry’s natural scent). “We had some good times, back before everything happened.”  

 Ginny’s hands clenched into fists, ready to hit him if he tried anything. “Because I don’t have a self-loathing kink to try and satisfy.” 

 Finn leered down at her. “It’s not a bad thing to get back with someone who made a mistake. I can make you happy, Ginny.”

 Ginny took a step back, trying to get some space between them. “I’m not interested, Finn. Actually, I’m seeing someone.”

 The snort Finn let out held no laughter. “So dump him.” He moved to close the gap between them again, but Ginny placed a hand out to stop him. “There is no way he can make you feel the way I used to make you feel. We used to be so free.”

 That was enough! She was about to tell Finn off, calling him every name in the book, when a knock on the door echoed around the room before Finn could respond. Harry came in without being granted access, her pack slung over his shoulder. He looked between the two of them, his body tensing. “Everything okay here?”

 Finn stepped back quickly, that leering look being replaced by a friendly smile. “We’re perfect. Just discussing some possibilities.”

 Ginny scooped her jersey from the floor and left the room, grabbing Harry’s hand as she left. She was going to go report Finn Hogan to Coach Kennedy and then got the fuck out of here. As she walked through the doorway Finn shouted words that wouldn’t connect to her mind until much later that night. “I look forward to seeing you at the party tonight.”

 Harry stopped her when they were a good distance from the exam room. He grabbed her shoulders lightly, looking her in the eye. “What happened?”

 “I learned Finn’s still a prick, that’s what happened.” Ginny took a deep breath as Harry just continued to stare at her. She started to explain everything. When she finished Harry's expression was so murderous Ginny thought he might be able to kill with just one look.  

 “I’m going to go --” Harry started, his voice low, but Ginny cut him off.

 “You are going to go with me and complain to Coach Kennedy and then we are going back to your place.”

 Harry blinked at her in confusion “Back to my place?”

 “Yeah, back to yours where we are going to work off this anger in a carnal fashion.” She knew she must sound mental, but she knew what she needed at that moment was him. She needed Harry. “Any problem with that, Potter?”

 “I --” Harry opened and closed his mouth twice in rapid succession before shaking his head. “Whatever you need.”

 Ginny went up on his toes and kissed him hard. “Good answer.” She murmured against his mouth. Then she lowered herself back onto her heels and started walking at a fast pace. “Now let’s move, because I have many plans for you before we have to go to that party tonight.”

[attack-on-multifandom]

Fall on Deaf Ears

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Deaf!Reader

Warnings: cursing, bullying, angst, mentions of suicide

Summary: Katsuki Bakugou always wanted to be strong so to cover any weakness he’d bully other people such as Izuku, but what happens when a new girl who just happens to not be able to hear shows up?

A/N: Not too long I watched the movie A Silent Voice (which I really recommend if you haven’t seen it) and it really made me want to to write a similar situation with Katsuki and Reader so here it is! Also the ending is kinda angsty and ends with a cliffhanger so if you want a part two lemme know and I’ll begin to write it immediately!💖💗 Also feel free to tell me if I got anything wrong about being deaf because I really don’t want to offend anyone!💗

Prideful. Overconfident. Self-absorbed.

Those are three words that you could use to describe five year old Katsuki Bakugou.

He currently was showing off his newly gained quirk to his three followers friends, plus a shy Izuku who stood in the back gazing in awe, all the while bragging at how great it was and how no one in the kindergarten could even dream of surpassing him and his quirk.

The teacher came out indicating for the students to come inside, for class was now starting and it was this specific class that would change young Katsuki Bakugou’s life forever.

“Okay kids, before we start I would like to introduce a new student here; her name is (Y/L) (Y/N) and she just transferred here from a different kindergarten.”

You didn’t do anything but stand there with a kind smile and a nervous look in your eyes indicating your uncomfortableness at being a new kid in a different school. However, Katsuki would soon find out it was not as simple and you being new that caused your anxiety to be so extreme.

“Not only is (Y/N) here new but she is also deaf, can anyone tell me what that means?”

One of Bakugou’s so called ‘friends’ raised his hand confidently.

“Yes, Tsubasa?”

“It means she’s dumb because she can’t hear.”

The whole class laughed, save sweet Izuku of course, but Bakugou only scoffed and examined the new girl closely.

She didn’t seemed bothered by the class laughing, in fact, she began to laugh her self, the sound coming out a bit strangled and weird since she could not hear her own voice.

The whole class went silent until everyone began laughing again, the kind smile never leaving the girl’s face because of her ignorance to the reasoning of the rude laughter.

“That’s enough class and no Tsubasa that is not what being deaf means, please save your ignorance for outside of class,” the teacher scolded the winged boy who simply scoffed and began to complain to Katsuki about how the teacher just had no sense of humor.

“To be deaf means to have lost the ability to hear; sometimes it’s mild and you can still hear things with the help of a hearing aid, and sometimes it’s more severe resulting in the complete loss of audible noise,” the teacher explained.

“(Y/N) has unfortunately the more severe case where she can not hear a single thing so please do your best with her and don’t use the fact that she can not hear as an excuse to exclude and bully her.”

The young girl finally took a seat as the class officially began. She of course didn’t notice all the whispering around her as everyone began to talk about their new deaf student.

In all honestly, Bakugou could care less about you and whether you had a disability or not, all he cared about was being the best and nothing was going to stop him from achieving his dreams.

Although Bakugou didn’t care about you, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to go out of his way to personally bully you just like he did with poor Deku.

Speaking of Midoriya, he soon became you’re only friend, spending time with you and even go as far as to learn sign language so he could communicate better with you.

You simply adored Izuku and his sweetness and always encouraged him that he would get his quirk sooner or later.

That simply was not the case for you.

Not only could you not hear, but you also were quirkless.

What an unlucky life you had.

You didn’t let that stop you from being optimistic and gracious that you at least had good parents, food, and a roof over your head. You were the epitome of kindness that made up for everything else that went wrong in your life.

———————————————————————

You distinctly remember the first day you first met Bakugou Katsuki.

You were playing on the jungle gym with Izuku, you pretending to be a princess in need of saving and him being your knight in shining armor.

You giggled, the strange sound not bothering Izuku in the slightest, he actually loved hearing you laugh because he thought you more than anyone deserved to be happy after all you had been through.

He quickly signed a ‘I am here to save you!’ As he finally reached the top of the jungle gym where you pretended you were being kidnapped.

‘My savior!’ You signed back as you both laughed and had a good time.

“Well look what we have here, a quirkless loser and a deaf quirkless loser, what a pair,” Katsuki joked as his group laughed behind him.

“Leave us alone Kacchan we haven’t done anything!” Izuku yelled feeling more defensive then usual because now you were being targeted and not just him.

A look of confusion formed on your features as you saw the distress on Izuku’s face and the smug look on Katsuki’s face.

You tapped your green haired friend on the shoulder and mouthed, ‘what’s going on?’

He sighed and shook his head as he grabbed your tiny hand and lead you off the play structure and away from the group of bullies.

“Hey where do you think you losers are going?!” Katsuki yelled as explosions began popping in his hands.

He grabbed the back of Izuku’s shirt and threw him to the ground, keeping his grip on Izuku as he began to use his explosions on him.

You watched on in horror as your friend was being attacked, tears streaming down his freckled cheeks from the pain and helpless he felt.

“Leave him alone!” You yelled the words sounding distorted as they left your mouth.

“Oh I almost forgot about deaf girl over here,” Katsuki said as he let go forcefully of Deku and began to focus his attacks on you.

“Why don’t you do us all a favor and never talk again, your voice is so annoying and no one can understand you!”

He finished his hurtful words by pushing you into the ground, his gang behind him cheering him on.

You stared at the ground for a second before you look up to Katsuki with a kind smile effectively making the young blonde’s eyes widen.

You intertwined your hands and made a forward motion with them, confusing Bakugou.

“What the crap is that suppose to mean?”

“I-It means she wants to be your friend,” Izuku muttered, his voice strained from the attack.

“Hah! As if I’d ever let such a helpless person be my friend! You’re useless not only can’t you hear but you don’t even have a quirk you’re just a waste of space and don’t you forget that!”

He pushed you one last time and left with his other two friends leaving you alone with Izuku.

He turned to you with guilty green eyes and immediately apologized for not being able to protect you.

You didn’t blame him at all neither did you blame Katsuki because you knew it was because of his own problems that he bullied you and you made it your personal goal to be friend him and help him with his issues.

——————————————————————

6 years later

With each passing year you tried becoming friends with Katsuki only to fail and be bullied.

He usually only verbally hurt you calling you useless and making fun of your lack of hearing, however sometimes he would take to physically hurting you either by pushing you or using his explosions.

He just couldn’t stand the kind smile on your face afterwards and the open gesture of friendship you would always extend to him.

Katsuki Bakugou couldn’t stand you and hated having to even go to the same school as you.

It was the first day of middle school and you did your usual walk with Izuku, six years never changing your friendship except that it was now even stronger then it was before.

You signed and joked as you made your way into the new middle school building.

As soon as you entered, a loud explosion went off in both yours and Izuku’s face, sending you both to the floor.

Loud laughter followed soon after that you could only tell by the way Bakugou’s eyes closed and his mouth widened.

“Wow it’s too fucking easy to send you guys flying now a days, are you both getting weaker or am I just getting stronger?” Bakugou boasted with a prideful smirk, causing Izuku to sigh and offer you a hand up.

‘Are you okay?’ He signed and you offered him a soft smile as you signed back, ‘I’m okay Izuchan thanks for asking.’

The green haired boy smiled back at you.

You offered Bakugou a small wave as you and Izuku began to walk away.

Bold of you both to assume he was going to let that happen.

For some reason when he saw you give Deku that soft smile and watched you both communicate in way that he couldn’t understand, it made his stomach churn and his heart feel weird.

He had never experienced this before and he didn’t like it which only made him angrier.

“Hey come back here you fucking weaklings!” Bakugou yelled while his ‘friends’ tried to tell him it wasn’t worth it.

It was fucking worth it if Katsuki Bakugou said it was worth it.

You and Izuku turned around only for you to be knocked down again, this time only you and surprisingly not Deku.

“Aren’t you gonna fucking say something or make that damn shitty offer to be friends, huh?!”

After all these years you had gotten pretty decent at reading Bakugou’s lips even through all the yelling.

It also gave you the excuse to look at Bakugou’s lips.

You understood every word he said which made your eyes widen in surprise.

Did he want you to ask him to be your friend?

Thinking that’s what he meant, you signed the gesture for friendship with a sweet smile on your face.

Immediately after he set explosions off on you causing parts of your shirt to be burnt and making you look like a mess.

Bakugou stood there and laughed his ass off as he walked away from the sad scene.

His heart now felt full and empty and the same time, a feeling he definitely decided to ignore.

———————————————————————

4 years later

Middle school was coming to an end and it was almost time for high school to start.

‘So Izuchan, have you applied for U.A. yet?’ You signed excitedly for you hoped your best friend would get into the school he dreamed of going to for a while now.

‘Not yet but I’m definitely going to soon,’ He signed back as you both entered the classroom.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the most useless dorks in class,” a familiar brash voice spoke, not that you could tell how low and loud it was, but you did have a feeling that how it would sound if you could hear it.

“Kacchan could you please leave us alone for just one day,” Izuku muttered under his breath.

“Huh?! Wanna say that a bit louder shitty Deku?!”

You placed a gentle hand on Izuku’s shoulder and shook you’re head as if to tell him, ‘it’s not worth it.’

The freckled boy nodded and smiled at you as you grabbed his hand and began to lead him forward.

As soon as you tried to move, Bakugou stuck his leg out and you ended up tripping over it causing the class to erupt in laughter.

For some reason you weren’t feeling too kind in that moment and abruptly stood up and pushed Bakugou back.

Oh how stupid that decision was.

Explosions began to pop out of his hands in anger as he got ready to give you the worst burns of your life, but his plans soon came to a stop as the teacher walked in and made everyone go to their seats.

Bakugou glared at you as you sat down and mouthed, ‘after class I’m going to fucking burn you so bad you’ll think before even touching me next time.’

You felt no fear at his words only sadness.

You truly wanted to be friends with Katsuki, maybe even more, you didn’t want to make him angry or upset.

Class was long that day, the only disturbance really being when Izuku stated he wanted to go to U.A. and Bakugou made fun of him, but that was just the calm before the storm.

After class, Izuku said he had to go to the restroom before you guys left together so you agreed to wait for him out in the hallway.

You looked to your right to see Bakugou and his gang laughing while a girl leaned on him and seemed to laugh at everything he said.

Who was that girl, was it Katsuki’s girlfriend?

You wouldn’t be surprised if he had one after all he was very attractive and had a great quirk, but it still hurt to even think of that possibility.

Soon Bakugou realized you were looking at him and oh dear we’re you in for it now; he hadn’t at all forgotten that morning’s exchange.

“YOU!” He yelled loudly as he began to make his way towards you.

He was too far away for you to read his lips as you began to back away from his threatening form.

He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the wall forcing a strangled scream from your throat.

“YOU FUCKING USELESS DEAF BITCH, YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN PUSH ME AROUND CAUSE YOU FUCKING CANT; IM THE BEST AND I WILL BECOME THE NUMBER ONE HERO WHY DONT YOU DO THE WORLD A FAVOR AND TAKE A SWAN DIVE OFF THE ROOF AND PRAY YOU’LL BE BORN WITH A QUIRK AND PROPER EARS IN THE NEXT LIFE!”

Silence followed after that as you just looked down at the ground.

Katsuki Bakugou had just told you to commit suicide.

All the other insults you could take even if they did slowly eat away at your mental health, but this, this really did hurt.

Tears began to spill down your cheeks as you dropped to the floor.

Poor Izuku who was clueless walking to the scene immediately ran to your side and kneeled down next you.

“Kacchan what did you do!” He yelled out as he brought you close to him.

Bakugou remained silent as he watched you weep violently on the floor.

After all those years of insults and pushing you around, you had never once cried.

You would always smile that dumb smile that he liked hated, and then you would just go about your way.

His heart pulsed painfully in his chest as he continued to watch you cry.

His hands wanted to move to move to wipe away your incoming tears but he did no such thing.

He wanted to take back what he said knowing he went way too far but he did no such thing.

He turned around hearing Deku yelling but that wasn’t was caused him to turn around, no, what did was the sound of your voice.

“All I wanted was to be your friend.”

And that would be that last time Katsuki saw you.

It would be another six years before he laid his crimson eyes on you again.

[johns-prince]

u know whats not discussed much? The FACT Paul is also insecure,always was. Behind the confident attitude, that was his mask,he needed to be liked, he needed to please, he had stage fright, he was also dependent of John's opinion, wanted so hard for John to like his songs. John's insecurity was more lesive because of his childhood,then the drugs abuse,yoko... butPaul had a level of insecurity that reflected on his need to control things that he only admitted John to question, and its fascinating

Okay, so, the reason why I haven’t really touched on it is because I’m not comfortable enough to touch on it, not like John’s-- mainly because, again, I get John a lot more than I get Paul. I can read John a lot easier than I can read Paul. That and I’m also a bit nervous of misreading Paul and his insecurities, and thus having a bunch of people coming at me going “Actually no--” 

But, I guess, I shouldn’t come off as if I only think John was insecure, when, obviously, that isn’t true. John and Paul were insecure, differently in some areas, and more obvious than not. 

Paul is human, so of course he also had insecurities. I just think, along with most of his feelings, he could keep them hidden and out of public eyes. Now, the thing is, both John and Paul wanted to be liked, wanted to be accepted-- they just, were different about it all though. I mean-- John grew up believing he’d never fit in to begin with, he believed he wasn’t very likable because of how he was always seen as a troublemaker, someone who wasn’t going to make it very far in life; unwanted, weird, an outsider. Paul, I think Paul grew up more so accepted by his peers than John, and I mean-- I think that’s true. Paul had the charm and character, he also had the ‘proper’ family life that John didn’t, which caused issues for him growing up in amongst his own peers, something to mock and judge. 

Okay so this is where I’m trying to go with this-- John, while he hated not being accepted by the greater public and, like all of us, wanted to be liked, he could deal with not being. He had already accepted he was ‘’weird,’’ and unusual, that he was a bit of a rebel-rouser; he was quick to tell people to fuck off if they didn’t like him, especially for stupid reasons. In the end, John really only cared about his music and being able to make his music-- to do what he loved, and hopefully, be around the people who actually mattered and loved. Deep down, yeah, John wanted to be loved by everyone and have everyone like what he put out there [which I think we can all relate to on some level or another] which was a reason he got out on stage and played and did tours and all that-- but in the end, John didn’t really need to please people, be liked by everyone, because John only cared about those who he believed were special and worthy of his time and effort. He could live with pissing off the world, really-- he just wanted to please, and have the people he loved and cherished, like him. 

Now-- Paul, Paul on the other hand, was a bit more of a people-pleaser, and had a bit more desire to be liked by everyone. Perhaps that’s due to the fact Paul was much more a diplomatic individual than John was, mixed with the fact he didn’t really grow up treated or labeled the same way John had been. That, and considering he had a bit of stage-fright, would cause someone to really want people to like what they did and hope to God they’re pleasing them because what’s the fucking point of doing this if they aren’t? What’s the pay off? Now I do agree and have pointed out that John was really the only one who could bring out Paul’s insecurities, or make Paul feel insecure in some areas when Paul was rather confident or indifferent about them; be that Paul’s musical abilities/talent, probably even Paul’s looks [taking a jab at him about only being a pretty face in How Do You Sleep at Night?] and even Paul feeling insecure and doubtful of John’s love for him. The biggest being Paul’s musical abilities/talent, and John’s love for him. Actually, I think Paul felt a bit insecure about his own looks when compared to john, and I say this because Paul always talks about how he was this “chubby/fat baby-faced thing” and John was, “this really cool, suave, confident looking guy.” I assume this changed with time, but, but I dunno.

And I think Paul’s need to control things might have derived from losing his mother, and having zero control over the whole traumatic event-- and the only thing he could control, was himself, his music. And John was one of the very few who could get Paul to compromise a bit of that control, because that’s how they were going to work, they had to compromise. John compromised by swallowing a bit of his pride, while Paul compromised by sharing control over his music with John. 

So yes, Paul was also insecure, because Paul was human. I just think John struggled a bit worse with his insecurities, his fears, and he certainly didn’t cope with them very well either. 

[mothmanhamlet]

Feelings are Fatal

I’ve decided to put all my fics here on tumblr, so here we go I guess

Logan is decidedly against love, but the very feeling he hates may just be his downfall.

Logince, 4231 words, Hanahaki au/High school au

Warnings: Major character death! Blood! Kinda swearing idk

Hanahaki Disease. It was just another fact of Logan’s life, the almost magical sickness that caused flowers to bloom in ones lungs as a result of unrequited love. He had to write a paper about it once, about when humans discovered it and how it affects humanity. He got a good grade on that paper, even though he didn’t understand it. Yes he understood the phenomenon, but how anyone could feel that deeply simply evaded him.

He used to pride himself on that, the fact that he always put logic and reason above emotion. It let him get good grades in every class he took, it made sure he focused, and it helped him get through high school without a hitch.

Well almost. Before he could glide through school into an Ivy League, he met Roman Prince.  

Roman Prince was the resident drama star and popular kid. He was conventionally attractive, with his curly brown hair, unblemished skin, and light brown eyes. A hopeless romantic, he was dramatic and confident. He and Logan shared Literature and World History together for almost two years.  

He could remember the day they first met, 2nd period English Literature. It was a rather bright room with handwritten posters plastered anywhere there was room. A giant messy whiteboard was at the front near the door with a square of desks facing it. The desks seemed to be one for every two people, an odd choice for a teacher but a completely average choice for that particular one. He remembers taking half of one in the front corner.

Once the bell rang to start class, the teacher, Mr. Picani, emerged rather ceremoniously from behind the desk. Immediately, he introduced himself and scribbled “Romeo and Juliet” on the board. From there, the class launched into a conversation about the story, most of them having already read it, which soon turned into a debate.

“It’s just so tragic, they were in love and had to die because of it, what could be sadder?” Roman announced, standing up and waving his hands around to accentuate his point.  

“They knew each other for a month at best and then killed themselves, how is that a tragic love story?” Logan said with a scoff.  

“How could you just say something like that about one of the greatest love stories of all time?” Roman gasped, turning his attention fully to Logan.

“Juliet was thirteen, she didn’t know what love was.”

“Oh and you would know better?”

“Actually-”  

They continued their debate for almost all of class, ending with both of them literally out of their seats and yelling at each other. It was intense and probably not the best first impression. It also caused their suddenly pacifist teacher to switch around their seating, so they ended up right next to each other in a swift move Mr. Picani called the “Get-along-desk”.

For the first few months, it was a hell-scape. Their interactions were explosive, they always had different opinions and neither were willing to compromise. For a while, they just refused to talk to each other, after all it did seem like the logical move at the time. That didn’t last long, as being desk-mates meant being project partners and projects meant communication. If not for Logan’s refusal to disrupt his own learning, they probably would have been kicked out of class. Even in History they weren’t safe, somehow always ending up partnered together. Logan found it infuriating. Roman thought with his emotions, he relied on abstractions and was too stubborn to let go of them. Not to mention, arguing with him was like arguing with the personification of the Uno reverse card. Roman would say that he was the stubborn one, focusing on facts and figures exclusively. Four whole months went by and no one thought they were capable of getting along.

That was until Roman’s twin brother transferred into their class. Remus was everything Logan despised, doing everything thoughtlessly. He would place nightmarish takes on their reading, placing what ifs where they had no business being. Logan was sure he lacked the capability to take anything seriously. Roman could barely stand him too, Remus being the antithesis of him despite the fact that they shared DNA. If Logan hated Roman, he despised Remus.  

So of course, when it was time to do team debates, Mr. Picani made the mistake of pairing them against Remus’ group. It didn’t matter how they felt about each other before, they were against a common enemy and needed to best him.

As rivals they were strong. As allies, they were damn near unstoppable. Every issue they had was put aside as they worked on an argument about the feminism of Pride and Prejudice. They used every second of class, discussing evidence and building upon ideas. They even went out of their way to work after class. Logan was finally able to see Roman’s strengths, how passionate he was, how driven he could be, and the creativity he had in every aspect. Sure enough, they got the highest grade in the class, and a friendship was formed. Albeit, it was uneasy and reluctant, but it was a friendship nonetheless.

Soon, unease and reluctance grew to respect. Respect grew to appreciation. After a few months, lo and behold, the get-along-desk had worked. They were not true friends, but they were doing better. They started to acknowledge points they made, even adding in some occasions. They made small talk too, Roman talking about his rehearsals or telling about another person he just had to meet (but ultimately never would). Logan would start to ramble about something he learned. It was little things like that that made their friendship.

It was mid-March when Logan noticed it. Everything had seemingly calmed down since Remus had gotten expelled for performing the macarena during an assembly for the 15th time, and he and Roman were slowly becoming at least acquaintances. They were in history class at the time, when Roman turned to him while they were working.

“European society really did peak in, like, the 1300’s huh,” Roman said nonchalantly, pointing to a knight’s uniform. Of course, Logan was annoyed with him. Somehow, he managed to forget the black plague, despite it being the focus of most of the unit. But it was a different kind of annoyance, more amusement than anything else. And of course Roman    wanted to be a knight, he already had the chivalry and honor down to a tee. But he was thinking about that too much.

It was a weird sensation Logan didn’t entirely understand. He probably should have thought about it, as that would be the logical thing to do, however Roman had told him continuously that emotions were illogical and that same weird part of him wanted to listen to Roman. So instead, he ignored the feeling and lectured him on the black plague. It was easy enough to ignore.

He felt it again in English the next day, while he was reading The Picture of Dorian Gray. They weren’t required, he simply wanted to. He remembered Dorian reminding him of Roman. A little narcissistic, a bit vain, beautiful. Beautiful. His brain got stuck on that word for a while. He thought Roman was beautiful. But emotions were illogical, so he ignored it. It was easy to ignore.

It continued to be easy to ignore. Sure moments like that would pop up, more and more frequently as time went on, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter the bursts of unexplainable happiness that Logan felt when he saw Roman. It didn’t matter the times Logan lost the ability to articulate in his presence. It didn’t matter that Logan could see just how nice and charming and unique Roman was. It didn’t matter, because he could ignore it.

By the end of the year, he could safely say it was harder to ignore. What was once subtle, was now strong and demanding in his head. That was also the time Logan realized it was hopeless to even want what he now knew he wanted. Over the year, he learned that Roman was in fact, a hopeless romantic. However, the endless string of people Roman fell for had a few things in common. From what he heard, they were all emotional, dramatic, popular, and perfect. Just like Roman.

So, when the year ended, Logan did what he did best when it came to his feelings about Roman. He ignored them.

The summer passed as the summer always did. Logan did mathematics camps, biology camps, astronomy camps, anything that kept him busy and learning. It was almost boring, how routine it was. The only thing that kept nagging at him was his ‘crush’ (the others at camp had taught him the term) on Roman. It never went away as he had hoped, yet he still continued to neglect it. Unfortunately, like a wound left unattended, it would begin to fester.

The school year began, and Logan could almost remember the happiness he felt when it started again. Classes were where he found his confidence, where he was listened to and respected. He was good at school, because it let him use logic and reason generally without complication.

There was, of course, one minor problem. He was waiting in his new English class, coming off of the high that was impressing his orchestra class, as he sat down at an empty table. This teacher seemed much like his previous one, bubbly and energetic. There were more technicolor posters adorning the walls, but everything was less cartoonish. In addition to the spectacled teacher who insisted they call him by his first name, this class seemed to have a TA, a dark shadowy man who must have been a college student. Logan had to have been distracted while taking everything in, as he failed to notice someone sitting next to him.  

“Hey Microsoft Nerd, ready to win English again?” Logan turned to see a smiling Roman facing him. Besides simply being startled, Logan jumped at seeing Roman again. He didn’t think Roman would actively seek him out like that.

“Roman, you cannot win English as a class, or a language for that matter, it is not a competition,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses. He forgot how pretty Roman was. It seemed his brain was at it again with this inconvenience.

“Au contraire, Pocket Protector, we can and we shall,” Roman said with a grin, his eyes lit up like candles.

So Logan had to be with Roman for another year, which was fine except for the fact that his feelings came back swifter and stronger. It was like his brain couldn’t stop noticing Roman and his smile and how he talked about the things he loved and how good he was.

He did fine, keeping it in the back of his mind, till around mid-October. That’s when he first noticed it.  

He was in his bedroom, at the clean white desk doing his homework. He had a cup of tea next to him, his books in front of him, and everything in order. Standard studying procedure. He remembered taking a sip of tea and coughing violently, his lungs burning like a wildfire inside his chest. Coughing and sputtering, he remembered thinking it was the tea, that he attempted to breathe while drinking it. It wasn’t until the burning died down and he felt something soft between his teeth did he understand. Removing it, he could see how bright red it was, a thick petal with uniform teeth marks pressed into it. It had to be a poppy. Coughing again, he feels another, more curly petal. A red carnation. They looked striking on his desk, in a room of mostly neutrals and deep blues, they added color. They popped so strangely it almost hurt to look at. They were objectively beautiful, plump and bright, but what they symbolized horrified Logan. He had really fallen for him, there was no turning back, not now. There wasn't much he could do now.

Well.  

Seeing as it was hopeless anyways, no one else needed to know. It was his secret, his mistake to be hidden. So, instead of telling anyone or getting a doctor or doing anything, he swept the red abominations into a little blue trash bin.

He remembered the next month at school being pretty easy, all things considered. He would go about his day as normal, minus the new addition of a water bottle for him to place the horrible beautiful petals. Roman would look at him or smile at him and his chest would ache, but he was sure it would get easier to ignore. He was very good at ignoring.

Harder than that, was explaining how his trash bin became full of scarlet, slightly damp, flower petals. It didn't completely sell him out though. No, that was a few weeks later, when he was in the middle of dinner. They sat rather quietly as usual, when Logan felt the recognizable burning in his chest, however this time was worse, feeling like lit kerosene all the way up his throat. He realized in that moment he was unprepared, no way to hide what would inevitably fall from his mouth. After a minute of wheezing, Logan looked to his plate to find a full, slightly bloodied, red carnation.  

His parents stared at him with wide eyes, flitting between the plate and him. It was as if they couldn’t process what had happened. He didn’t want to tell them like this, but it was too late for that now.

“Logan, I think we should schedule a doctor’s appointment,” Logan’s dad said, clearing his throat. It was a simple announcement, one that ended the conversation as they went back into silence.

One week of mild suffering later, Logan was sitting in a doctor’s office, waiting for the doctor to come back with the results of his blood test. He didn’t know how it worked, or why they needed a blood test to determine if he had flowers in his lungs, but he decided not to question it.  

The doctor came in with a serious face, as if he was about to deliver bad news and they didn’t already know the answer. He gave his parents a brochure, one with all the options they had, although there weren’t many. There were pills he could take, but they were new, expensive, and had a nasty habit of giving people cancer. There was the tried and true method of explaining your feelings in the hopes it wasn’t actually unrequited and you just thought it was. Then there was the option most people chose, the surgery. It was generally reliable and probably the safest option. It did remove your ability to feel most emotions, but to people with this kind of problem that was kind of a bonus. A security that it won’t happen again.

In the car ride back, Logan already knew what would happen. Sure, a confession would be easy, but even worse than his mild fear of humiliation was his parents’ strong fear of him getting a boyfriend. Or any romantic attachments for that matter. They were of the opinion that school and work came first and anything besides that was a distraction. He himself prided himself on a similar outlook.

“Logan, I think you should get the surgery, it may not seem ideal, but I promise    you it will pay off in the end,” Logan’s mom said from the front seat of their car. It was nothing Logan didn’t expect, so he simply sat there looking out the window at the trail of cars around them.

“Ok.”

The next day of school, he was filled with a sort of relief. He would be rid of these emotions that had been annoying him for months and trying to kill him for weeks. He was more relaxed. Unfortunately, because no good thing goes unpunished, he forgot his water bottle in orchestra. Which meant, he wouldn’t have it till after his next class, which just so happened to be English.

He did alright, all things considered, until they were allowed to research for their essays. He felt a burn in the back of his throat that meant flowers were coming. He started to cough, attracting the attention of the others at his table, a blonde girl, a redhead boy, and of course Roman. The emo TA also started to look at him, which was one more step to explaining his… Condition to the class.

A solid minute of wheezing later, two bright red and bloody flowers appeared in his hand, a carnation and poppy each with some stray petals. That drew a little more attention. The teacher gave him a concerned glance, but after Logan shook his head at him, he retreated. A few straggling eyes were suddenly on him, but the ones he was focusing on were the ones sitting right next to him.  

“So you do have a heart Lo,” Roman said, reaching out to touch a petal. He had to be dreaming. Roman couldn’t know. Roman wasn’t allowed to know. And Roman had many nicknames for him, but they were never his name. It was as if it were too personal. “I’m very sorry about whoever this is, and I would fight them anytime.”

Logan put on a brave face and straightened the blue tie he tended to wear. “Don’t feel too bad, I’m getting the surgery for it in a month or two.” Maybe if he didn’t look at Roman he would be better at talking about it.

“Oh, good luck then,” Roman said with a smile as Logan looked at him. He could have sworn he heard the slightest bit of sadness in his voice, but Logan was never very good with emotions.  

Three weeks came and went without much notice, except for the occasional brave soul asking about his illness. Logan remembered the answers he gave to be extremely clinical, using a lot of logic for a emotions based affliction.

He sat in the doctor’s office, a cold and sterile room, waiting for the doctor to come back with his X-rays, just so they could make sure the surgery would go on as usual. His mother, sat next to him in a light colored chair, squeezed his hand.

“They’re going to fix you, don’t worry,” His mother whispered. Moments later, the doctor came back into the room, clearly trying not to look distraught.

“I’m afraid we ran into a complication,” the doctor said, looking at his mother, “Your son is extremely far along in the disease, and the roots of the flowers grew in an unfortunate place in your son’s lungs. Trying to remove them would cause extreme scarring that would inevitably lead to pulmonary fibrosis, as well as cause severe damage to the blood vessels. Not to mention the fact that his brain is still developing, which means that the alterations to his limbic system could result in abnormal developments. What this means is that your son does not have a high chance of survival, should this surgery go through. I apologize that we were not able to identify these things beforehand, and you still technically can go through with it, though I would not recommend it.”

His mother’s face fell. Logan himself could barely acknowledge what had happened, the words refusing to run through his brain. The pure cleanliness of the room became all the more oppressive, the walls were beginning to close in on him. This, Logan would remember as the beginning of the end.

The next week of school was weighted and dull. His parents started to fight about whether or not he should go on with the surgery, and every day he continued to cough more and more. His parents announced that the next week would be his last at school. It was the march of his last year at high school, it should have been the home stretch for him. In many ways it was.

His last week at school was possibly the most difficult part. He had to explain to his teachers that he would be leaving, he had to watch their faces drop as they realized why he might not come back. His English teacher, Patton as he insisted they call him, cried when he told him. He thought Logan couldn’t see him, but he was able to see the small drops of water in his eyes. Even Virgil-the-TA was a little sadder. He decided no one else would know, if he could help it. Except Roman. As much as he hated the thought of telling him, Roman was his friend, technically his only friend. He deserved to know, Logan decided. He deserved to know everything, or at least a shortened version of it.

Soon, it was Friday. His last day of school went without much fanfare, besides his teachers becoming sentimental. He had also neglected to tell Roman, effectively waiting until the last possible moment. It neared the end of English class, and Logan was prepared. When they were allowed to talk, he turned to face Roman.

“Roman, I’m going to be away from school for a while and do not know when I’ll be back, or even if I will return,” Logan said in his usual directness. It was… Odd talking about his likely death. “So if this is the last time we ever speak, I just wanted to tell you that I-” No. He couldn’t do it. Roman would blame himself for it, and Logan refused to put that on him. Roman didn’t deserve to blame himself for this. For him. “I always thought of you as a friend. A best friend I suppose.”

Roman looked at him with a mixture of shock and sadness. “Logan I li-” Roman said quickly before pausing, letting out a sigh. “Logan, I’m glad I could be your friend. A best friend.”

And that was it. Logan got on with the rest of his day, and went home.

That lead Logan to where he was now, around three weeks later. He was sat in the chair in his room, as usual, reading a book. It was Astrophysics for People in a Hurry, and he had read it hundreds of times. He always wanted to study space. The pristine whites and grays of his bedroom were tinged red from coughing fits in the middle of the day. Flowers could be spotted in the corners of his room, the only mess in his neat space. It used to feel comfortably organized, now feeling distant and damaged. Nevertheless, he essentially lived in his room, no reason to go outside when he was going to die anyways. No reason to leave his room when his parents were always fighting about him. They were still considering surgery, or at least his father was.

He felt another cough rise in his lungs. He had almost gotten used to the pain. Slowly stumbling up and to the trash can, he choked through the pain. He could feel the warmth claw its way up his throat, burning.  Moments later, he could see two blood-soaked flowers, a poppy and carnation perfectly intact, stem and all. But they didn’t stop. A stream of blood followed, nearly filling his mouth, staining his lips and teeth red. In that moment, he realized just how little time he had left.

He turned over to the light switch, turning it off, then closing the drapes to his window. In the darkness he walked over to his perfectly made bed, and lied down. He could stare at the childish glow-in-the-dark stars he had placed up there, simply because they looked nice. He simply laid in the silence, staring at his own stars.

They say that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. But a flash was the wrong word. No, Logan felt every moment leading up to this wash over him in a wave. Every mistake, every choice. He wondered if things could have been different. Maybe if he had never argued that first day, if he had never talked to Roman Prince, maybe he could have avoided all of this. He could have been on his way to a college, then to a job, and to a life. But it was too late for that. It was too late for him. It was almost over and he had lost.

Logan stared at the stars in thought. Soon, he lost track of time. He didn’t know how long he waited there before his vision started to blur. His vision started to fade, going darker and darker till he was staring into the face of the void. He felt his body lose the warmth it once contained, his energy dissolving. Despite it all, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, fighting for his life. Soon, it too gave up, slowing and stilling. He felt a soft pain surrounding his body, dulling his senses to numbness. Through the ache in his chest his breathing slowed. He gave out a small cough and a sharp breath in. As he released the breath, he felt himself let go. He released himself to the icy nothingness moving in on his brain. He couldn’t hear or see or feel anymore. He was still and detached and nothing anymore. He was finally gone.

[mutantsrisingrpg]

Congratulations CAITLIN! You’ve been accepted as EPIMETHEUS.

Tierney is a skeleton that I hold near to my heart and it’s clear from your application that he’s just a dear to you, Caitlin! The backstory that you weaved together for him not only broke my heart, but made me actively root for him. The bit about Blake and how important he was to Tierney was such a great addition to him and added another layer that pulled at my heart. “But nothing good lasts forever,” whew did that line slap me across the face. I can’t wait to see where you take Tierney on the dash! 

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information:

NAME/ALIAS: Caitlin

PRONOUNS: she/her

AGE: 27

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: CST; Due to the current pandemic I have lost my job. I’m currently under a shelter-in-place order at my parents place so I have…a great deal of time. Sure, there are days I’m not around but those days are usually cleaning and shopping days. We’re trying to get attached to a schedule with….some success. So I’ll be pretty darn active for a while. In the event the pandemic is over I’ll let you know how my activity will change but that strikes me as a ways off.

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Tierney Sinclair; Epimetheus

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis-Male, he/him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

Tierney is a lot of things. But at his heart he’s a boy reaching out for a hand to hold. He’s been denied so much in life and now that his life is in his hands he wants to grab the things he never had. Family. Friends. Purpose. He’s been adrift for so long, lost in a world he doesn’t understand and that doesn’t want him, that finding solid ground to stand on has never been easy. And now that he’s found all of those things he’s finding life isn’t as simple as reaching for your goals and taking them. He struggles with himself some days. He wants to be the boy that never got to be and the man he’s proud of being today. He’s tugged between finding out what normal might have been or could be and doing what he’s good at and known for. It’s like a game of tug of war that he can never win.

BIO:

Content Warning: child abuse, murder, death

Tierney Sinclair was born to a single mother in the slums of Las Vegas, Nevada on September 8, 1979. And that was all he ever knew of his life before the orphanages. Abandoned on the doorstep of a local orphanage with nothing more than his name and a ratty hospital blanket. The Las Vegas Home for Orphans was not a kind place to grow up, especially not for a mutant. Tierney’s powers first manifested when he was three and throwing a tantrum. The bottle of milk he wanted so badly, rather miraculously, appeared next to him because he’d willed it. Easy enough to ignore, which is exactly what everyone opted to do. Mutants were trouble and the last thing they wanted here was mutant trouble. That was, until one of his tantrums caused one of the workers to black out and wake up two hours later.

He was four when he was given to the government for testing. And they tested him for years. Tierney was thirteen when they slapped a level five rating on him and finally released him to a mutant “friendly” orphanage out in Las Vegas. Not that life in the orphanage was much easier than life in the lab. Unaccustomed to the modern world Tierney found himself behind his peers in almost everything. Lost and alone in such a strange and different world made him an easy target for some of the tougher kids in the orphanage and they bullied him relentlessly. It all stopped the day Tierney snapped, nearly killing one of his biggest tormentors. He was punished severely for his actions and Tierney found he just didn’t care. He’d had enough of being walked on and over like a door mat. He was Tierney-fucking-Sinclair and woe to the person who thought him a push over.

Between his powers and his dangerous penchant for using them when angry Tierney did a lot of orphanage hopping until he aged out of the program at eighteen. Life outside the system proved to be….difficult, at best. With a petty crimes rap sheet as long as his arm and a level five label on top of that Tierney found no forgiveness is the world of humans. He survived on odd jobs and theft. Stealing was easy enough when all you had to do was wiggle your fingers at a lock and convince the elderly security guard to look the other way. It was stealing that landed him in the Blackburn Syndicate’s lap. Over confident in his abilities he ended up stepping into the middle of one of their cons at just the wrong moment, causing the whole job to flop. Some would say it was luck that they got out alive, but everyone there knew it was Tierney’s powers and fast thinking that got them all out and in one piece. That didn’t stop the Syndicate from being angry though and they presented Tierney with an offer he couldn’t refuse. Join them or die.

It was simple enough to say yes and shake the hand that sealed his fate. He slipped into life with the Syndicate with ease, surprising even himself. He job hopped for a while, struggling to find his place in the group. It was only after Blake Ryans, the Syndicate’s hitman, took him under his wing that he found it. Killing didn’t come naturally to Tierney but Blake never let him back down. He always said that if the government deemed him as dangerous he may as well live up to it, right? And eventually, he did. Blake crafted him into the best hitman he could be, expertly passing on the wealth of knowledge he’d accrued over the years. Tierney soaked it all up like a sponge and within three years had become Blake’s second in command, trusted enough to do Syndicate jobs on his own sometimes. But nothing good lasts forever.

On a job gone wrong Blake was lost and never returned. Tierney waited, and waited, and waited; but it became increasingly clear Blake was dead. He wasn’t surprised when the Syndicate asked him to step up and take Blake’s job, citing they’d been planning on asking him to do it anyways in the next couple of years. It was an easy enough yes. Blake never returned and after a while Tierney found he’d stopped waiting for him. It’s what Blake would have wanted anyways. He’s been the Syndicate’s most trusted hitman for years now, a job he takes great pride in. The Syndicate has become the only family he’s ever known and he’s exceptionally protective of them because of it. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to protect them. Nothing.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

ABIGAIL IMANI - (The tug towards what ‘normal’ could have been.) Tierney knows…almost nothing about this woman, save for the fact she’s always getting a cup of coffee when he is. At first it was just a weird coincidence but after a while it simply became routine. It’s easy to talk with her over things that don’t really matter. She makes him feel almost normal.  What it’s like to be a person rather than the scary mutant most people peg him for these days. With Abigail he’s simply Tierney, the guy who likes too much sugar in his coffee.

CIARA SAWYER - (Another chance. Living vicariously through another.) Tierney can’t explain what drew him to Ciara the first time they met. Maybe it’s because he saw a little of himself in her or maybe it was the way she looked at him and smiled despite his reputation. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t really care. Like Blake all those years ago he tucked her under his wing and has tried to help her find her place in the Syndicate. He never expected someone as soft and quiet as Ciara to wind up being his most trusted asset in the field. Sure, the first couple of jobs were…bumpy but Ciara was a fast learner now they’re like a well oiled machine. He makes their car keys dances and she robs them blind. It’s brilliant. He hasn’t told her, but he’s resoundingly proud of who she’s become. There’s no one he’d rather work with out in the than her. It’s no secret that Tierney is soft on Ciara but woe to the person that tries to exploit that. If there’s one good thing he leaves behind in this world it will be her. He tries his hardest to shelter her from the more grisly aspects of his role in the Syndicate with varying degrees of success.

GERRARD BERMUDEZ - (The tug towards who he is today. Someone to rail against who isn’t afraid to rail back.) Tierney doesn’t hate Gerrard but he certainly doesn’t like him very much. No one knows why, not ever Tierney himself. It was such an instant distaste that lingers on his tongue like bad fish. He avoids him when he can…and when he can’t he’s not afraid to push at his buttons. It’s almost entertaining to see how far he can get sometimes.

EXTRA:

Content Warning: murder. abuse, violence, guns

-> Tierney doesn’t like killing. He never has. He knows it’s an odd trait to have in a man who is literally hired to kill people, but it’s something his mentor Blake instilled in him from the minute he started training him. Tierney will never kill someone simply because they are there. If they’re not his target then they don’t matter. He goes to great lengths to avoid unnecessary bloodshed but it’s happened on the rare occasion. He regrets those deaths and only those deaths. -> Some might say Tierney has a nasty habit of over planning his hits, but Tierney would disagree. He likes having a plan, likes watching as all the little pieces fall into place. It’s a heady sense of accomplishment. And the coup-de-grace? The ending parts. Tierney might not like shedding blood unnecessarily but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like shedding it altogether. There’s something heady in holding someone’s life in your hands and knowing exactly what you’re going to do with it. -> Tierney is trained in every aspect of killing imaginable. He’s talented with a gun, with his fists, and with his powers. It doesn’t matter how it happens so long as it happens, so Blake made sure Tierney could do the job any way imaginable. -> Outside of off hand remarks and vague references there is no one in the Syndicate who knows anything about Tierney’s life before the grand fuck up. Anyone that’s tried to ask about it has been rudely told to fuck off or out right ignored. As far as Tierney is concerned his life didn’t start until the Syndicate found him. -> Don’t touch Tierney without his permission. Years of abuse have made him a distrustful and jumpy man. Touching is prohibited to everyone except those he trusts and even then, he’s never been the kind of person who liked hugs anyways. -> Tierney never really managed to adapt to the modern life style that surrounds him. He’s hopeless when it comes to anything more complicated than the texting feature on his phone. Computers have always been a mystery to him and he’s perfectly okay with that. There are plenty of others out there that can do what he wants. If that means he has to ask or intimidate he’s flexible. -> Tierney is a staunch believer that mutants deserve more than they’ve got. Deserve more than a childhood of cruel experiments and homes. He wants mutants to be treated as equals instead of dangerous lab rats. It might not happen in his life time but he wants to pave the way for others like him. He buts heads with people who think mutants are more than humans. He wouldn’t wish his life on even them. -> Tierney doesn’t own a car. He owns a motorcycle. In fact, he owns four. He’s a grease monkey when it comes to bikes and can’t say no to a good deal. He finds something very soothing in spending a day working on one of his bikes. The Syndicate pays him well, but there’s people out there who pay him more for one of his custom bikes. -> Tierney has amazing control over his powers. But his powers have always been deeply tied to his emotions. He’s stronger when he’s feeling a powerful wash of emotions than when he isn’t. He hasn’t lost his cool in nearly twenty years but the effects of it can be damaging. He tries not to let himself get too overwhelmed. -> Tierney’s powers are tied to his hands. He can do things without them but using his hands as focus points helps him with the accuracy of his powers. There is no physical sign that Tierney is using his powers outside of someone who knows that when his hands are moving…things are moving. For Tierney manipulating his powers feels like a string of energy connecting him to his target. He can equate it to almost being like a puppeteer. -> Tierney has a fantastic amount of fortitude when it comes to using his powers for an extended period of time but after a while he will start to get tired, especially for tricks that require his full concentration. -> Power Break Down: ——> Telekinetic Choking: The ability to choke someone without physically touching them. One of the first of Tierney’s powers to manifest and one of the ones he relies heaviest on even now. He must be within sight of his target in order to achieve this power but his range can be as long as a basketball court if he concentrates. ——->  Telekinetic Homing Effect: The ability to cause an object to lock onto a target and follow them until they collide. This trick is one of Tierney’s most useful. And he’s always found it fun to grab someone’s bullet and send it back at them, even if they run. Tierney doesn’t know the full extent of his range but again, he must see the person in order to send anything with homing capabilities at them. ——-> Telekinetic Object Manipulation: The ability to move objects by focusing on them. Probably the best distraction technique ever. Nothing gets people to stop paying attention to their surroundings like their car keys dancing out of their pocket, right? It’s taken him many years but Tierney is now capable of performing this talent with a multitude of objects at the same time. The bigger the object the more concentration it takes. Also a useful skill for picking locks and one he mastered early in his petty crime days. There isn’t a lock he hasn’t been able to pop, yet. Tierney’s range for this is huge but he must be able to see the objects he’s moving if he wants any degree of success. ——-> Telekinetic Mental Manipulation: He’s not able to take over someone’s mind and turn them into his puppet but with a little meddling he’s often able to get people to do things they weren’t prone to doing before. Looking left instead of right, forgetting to check the closet doors, little things that can have a big impact on a job at any given time. Tierney isn’t afraid of his abilities but he hasn’t explored this one as much due to lack of useful targets. His range on this is fairly short and for anything bigger than a stray adjustment or two must put his full concentration on the target. ——-> Psionic Explosion: The ability to create a large mass of energy that can cause huge amounts of damage. Using this power exhausts Tierney and he rarely uses it unless it’s an emergency or a last resort. What little he knows about it comes from the tests he underwent as a child and the two times he’s been forced to use it in his adulthood. Both times leveling a building.

ANYTHING ELSE: Nope! All good on my end! Let me know if you need anything from me!! <3