#its a wonder how he fits the ears in the helmet

[skitskatdacat63]

this is life footage of nando signing in fernando docu btw

His cat ears and tail were edited out of the doc just so you know 🤫

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[polarisjisung]

MOTORBIKES & MELATONIN

synopsis: sleep doesn't find you in the comfort of your own home or under the covers tucked safely into your bed— sleep finds you in the warmth of park jisung's arms

wc: 1.1k

pairings: jisung × fem!reader, established relationship

genre: fluff

warnings: insomnia + mentions of using sleeping pills/supplement use of the word drug (literally once), speeding (follow the speed limit 🙏)

notes: emosung brainrot is in full swing (though there's not a lot of emosung mentioned) mostly self indulgent so probably not my best work since I was all up in my head but 🤷‍♀️

you're laying on your bed, aimlessly bouncing the soft tennis ball in your hand against the empty space of the wall just above your headboard. sleep never came easy to you and tonight is no different.

you'd tried it all, counting sheep, drinking warm milk, even meditation but nothing ever worked. instead you spent nights tossing and turning restlessly despite being tucked into the warm covers of your bed, chasing sleep.

just as you reach for the purple bottle that lays next to your bed, ready to pour half the jar of supplements into your hand and gulp them down with a glass of water, you hear it.

your perfect form of melatonin and serotonin mixed in one— your drug, your purpose.

the rumble is distinct. it comes with the soft vibration beneath your feet and the deep reverberation in your ears. the roaring of the v twin engine has you shooting up into a seated position as realisation washes over you

there's a dim red glow cast across your room by the break lights as you grab the loose fit leather jacket that rests over the back of your study chair. the woody oriental cologne still lingers through its material as you place it over your shoulders and run out of the front door.

there he is, helmet gripped loosely in his left hand, his right arm open and ready to welcome you into his embrace.

jisung's black hair flows in the wind, his forehead on show— paired with the soft smile he flashes you, you can't help but think he looks perfect.

"didn't even give me a chance to sneak into your room" he sulks taking you in between his arms, giving you a quick spin as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead

"can't blame a girl for wanting to see her boyfriend" you sigh, taking in his warmth with a smile

"yeah?" he pulls back to get a better view of your face, "miss me that much angel?"

"you know it sung"

his laugh is deep yet gentle, eyes sparkling at the sight of you

"well I'm here now"

jisung takes a quick step around you, his touch feather light as he gathers your open hair into a low ponytail, reaching for the hair tie on his wrist to tie it back

"too tight?" he says, voice full of worry and concern— when you shake your head he smiles, placing his helmet over your head

you wonder how people could ever think jisung was anything but the sweet, kind and warm hearted lover you knew, who wouldn't dare let you move an inch to do something he could do for you, like how he gently takes ahold of you in his arms and places you onto the seat of his bike, eventually taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist

"hold on tight" he whispers in that caring tone of his, that's reserved solely for you, ready to whisk you away for the night and you do just that, gripping his waist securely, but not before lifting his visor and pressing a quick kiss to his temple

jisung drives off, wordlessly but with a smile that speaks volumes

there's a warmth that radiates from jisung's body, the only thing keeping you from freezing as the wind rushes past you, blowing with harsh whistles, tyres screeching against the ground as he takes sharp turns through the streets leading towards the countryside

you'd snuck out before, driven way too far over the speed limit, done countless things that would define your reckless youth and yet nothing had your veins coursing with quite so much adrenaline as this, driving way too far, way too fast, with jisung, the person you loved way too much

like always, you find yourself in jisung's lap, god forbid he let you sit on the grass, wet from the fresh morning dew that rests over it, warm hues of orange and light pinks taking over the sky as you hold one another close, the wind still blowing strong gusts your way, your hair blowing in your face until jisung decides to take it between his fingers and hold it back in his palm

"I like this" you whisper, just loud enough that jisung hears it, his lip rising just enough for his teeth to come on show

"I like you" he responds, watching the warm glow of the sun reaching over the horizon through your eyes

"you do?" you smile, wider than you previously had been, it's a smile that reaches your eyes and jisung's unwavering gaze grows brighter at the realisation

"you're my girl, of course I do"

this time it's his turn to press a quick kiss to your forehead, but jisung's greedy, especially so when it comes to you and he can't help but want more, honey brown eyes resting on your lips

"give me a kiss and I think I'll love you forever" you can't help but giggle at the tickling feeling of jisung's hair against your neck as he pouts up at you

"yeah? didn't know my boyfriend needed kisses to do that" you tease with a roll of your eyes

"didn't know your what?" he asks, and you know exactly what jisung's doing, so you whisper the answer with nothing more than a shy smile straight into his ear

"my boyfriend"

"present" jisungs hand is raised and his voice is confident when he looks at you again, it's like he's begging you to tug at his shirt and crash your lips against his, and who were you to say no to him

"you're so cute" you let out between kisses, the bridge of your nose resting against jisung's, who now wears a look of faux offence

"yeah?" he asks, hoping you'll change your mind, though you don't let up, reaching out to ruffle his black hair "only for you"

somewhere between the late hours of the night and the early hours of dawn, between the quietus of your bedroom and the roar of his engine, between gazing up at the stars and watching the sunrise by the harbour— jisung hears your soft snores replace the quiet whispers of awe you once breathed out.

despite it all, jisung's smile remains all the same, radiant, warm and masked by the matte black helmet resting atop his head

[workingbynyx]

heey, saw that you were open for requests so I would like to ask for a romcom jason todd x reader where the reader is flirty and has a crush on Red Hood, but has no idea that he is Jason Todd (their regular at the cafe they own) so he gets kinda flustered everytime he sees the reader when he is going to get coffee

(hope you can understand this, english is not my first language)

Beautiful Stranger — Jason Todd x GN!Reader

↷ summary — after a faithful encounter with red hood one night ago, you quickly developed a crush on the masked vigilante. but, would you believe if the cute regular at your coffee shop was him? ˎˊ˗

↷ pairing — jason todd x gn!reader ˎˊ˗

↷ genre — romance, comedy, a bunch of fluff ˎˊ˗

↷ warning/s — none! other than a few curse words, use of y/n and possible grammar errors ˎˊ˗

↷ a/n — hi anon! dw i LOVEEEE that request sm, i hope you have fun reading this as much as i had writing it ^^ i might've switched it up a bit in the process so i'm so sorry for that 😭 i also figured i'd use the wayne family adventures version of jason for this one since it kinda fits the whole theme of this fic hihi and he turned into such a simp in this so it might be ooc at some point help, enjoy reading! ˎˊ˗

"what the hell are you doing here walkin' around late at night?" the masked man said in between short breaths after taking down a robber that's been following you since you closed down the café for tonight. you were lucky enough to have 'the' red hood on patrol and save you from a potential robbery. the thought of him guiding, if not stalking, you and jumping on the thug as soon as he's about to make a move somehow made your heart skip at the act of service...if its even counted with them now laying on the ground unconscious.

what you didn't know is this man was jason, the regular you'd have come in around 9 to 10 am to have his morning coffee and sit around the shop until lunch. you always observed the guy to be somewhat mysterious but endearing at the same time, he'd always ask for the same coffee and pastry combo over and over again, not bothering to change his order. he became quite an easy customer to remember at some point, other than the fact that he had white streaked hair which made him attractive and memorable to you. in fact, everytime he came in all you had to do was ask "the usual?" and jason'll nod along then go back to his corner, mouthing a silent 'thank you' when you deliver his treat and maybe even strike up a conversation if he's in the mood.

but right now, jason is simply the infamous masked red vigilante who just kicked some ass for your own sake.

"my apartment is this way, how was i supposed to know robbers lurked around here" you replied in return, tucking in one of your hands inside the pocket of your coat as you froze in front of him. jason began approaching you and stopped when you came face to face, the height difference between the two of you forced you to tilt your head upwards— the all-white lens of his helmet staring down at you. "watch the news, its not safe out here. take the route to your right next time, and bring at least a pepper spray with you" if only his mask didn't have a built in voice changer you would've known seconds ago it's him.

you were stunned for a moment as he listed down things that'd probably go straight out your other ear. "y'know, for someone i just met you're oddly protective over me" you finally spoke, a hint of mischief underlying your tone. that's when you begun wondering who is it under that costume. is he cute? is he what you're imagining him to be like?

jason, on the other hand, blinked a couple times out of confusion if it weren't for his get up covering his entire features. "what?" he said. "nothing, it's just...i didn't think a vigilante would care so much for a civilian like me" you answered, an innocent smile creeping up your lips like an idiot in love. "its my job. obviously i should look out for the people of Gotham, shouldn't i?" he crossed his arms across his chest, covering the red insignia of his bulletproof suit.

"obviously, i guess i didn't have the special treatment like i thought" you practically said with a slight pout forming when you look up to him, going silent for a moment. "do you really tell all the people you save to bring pepper spray or just me? i wanna know if i got the special advisory from you at least" you added as a tease, earning a slight frustrated groan from jason afterwards. "i don't have time for this—" "well I do" you bravely chimed in without missing a beat. "i got all night even"

the sigh jason had let out was almost comical, he took a step backward when it's really just him starting to get flustered by his barista seemingly flirting with his other identity, who would've thought you'd find him attractive? not jason that's for sure. "get home safe, take the route i told you if you wanna keep your wallet stocked" then he noticed the small cut on your cheekbone, it must've been from the pocket knife the thug had.

he briefly pointed at it, "you got something" you lifted your fingers to search for it only to be met with a slight sting when you did, a small amount of blood staining your index finger. you hissed at the feeling, squinting your eye when it lingered for a bit. "calm down, its not that serious" jason said. "some alcohol and bandaid should do the trick" and you took his advice, you certainly wouldn't allow yourself to show up at work with a random cut to your face.

"y'know why don't you help and patch me up at this point? i could use some assistance" and you still had the nerve to decide and toy around with him for a bit...to see how far the both of you are willing to go. to be fair, you just wanted to know who was it under that mask— this could potentially lead to it if you're lucky. "what are you, 8?" jason replied. "no but i'm surely a 10" you winked playfully, the corner of your lip turning into a smirk as you watched his body language intently.

"jesus christ.." jason muttered under his breath, starting to walk away from this situation he's stuck in. "aw c'mon! that was a smooth line admit it! oh okay— well, thank you red..man! i'll see you soon...i think" you yelled from the same position you're in, seeing his tall frame go farther in the distance. jason didn't say nothing in return, but he kept a secret smile under his mask as he disappeared from sight.

its been a couple weeks since your last encounter with red hood, you took most of his suggestions that night and started going the safer route when you had to be on the closing shift. since then, you've been at the lower risk of getting robbed again thanks to him and his unforgettable presence. but it's not only you who hasn't stopped thinking about that night, jason was still trying to relive the moment of his barista basically flirting with him. he figured you would've known it's him within seconds...guess not.

it didn't bother him, it's the thought of your reaction to him being behind the helmet is what. jason wouldn't blame you though, imagine how shocking it would be to find out your regular is a vigilante at night. it's like betrayal but in a different form. he usually doesn't care about revealing his identity to the people he knows, but when it came to you it's different. he's conscious for the first time, he was overthinking things and coming up with plans how to avoid it from happening in many ways possible so he stopped visiting the shop for a while. it's becoming weird, you two weren't even close to begin with— so why was he stressing so much about it?

while jason spent most of his nights in Gotham thinking about you, you started noticing his frequent visits slowly turned little to nothing at all. you found yourself always anticipating the sound of the bell when the doors open to each customer only to be met with disappointment when he didn't come through. and today seems to be the same, you kept glancing over the glass doors hoping you'd see a tall, slightly scary and muscular man enter...until he finally did.

you feel your heart skip a beat seeing him after a while, the same feeling you got a couple nights ago but you didn't mind. you quickly went over the cashier, mentally ready to take his order with a smile. "hey! welcome back, i didn't see you in here for a while" you greeted when he stopped right at the counter. jason wore a red hoodie and a brown leather jacket layering over it, he must've liked wearing that a lot. "oh...uh yeah," he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, trying to come up with something. "i got caught up in work. i didn't have the time to stop buy for coffee" that's a lie. "but i'm here now" is he really?

"oh, you must've been really busy then?" you added, listening to his reason. "definitely yeah," lies once again. jason sucked in a breath, looking away to get a glimpse of the menu like he really is getting anything else other than an americano and cookies. "got anything new f'me?" he asked which took you by surprise. "you're not getting the usual anymore?" you said. "eh well, it gets old after a while" he says.

"that's fair, well we got new cake flavors if you wanna try them out. what would you like?" you then tap a few things into the register to input his order to which he asks for a latte and dark chocolate cake. you tell him his total and he pays for it, giving him his change and receipt. jason mouths a thank you and quickly goes to sit on one of the chairs by the window where you can still see him right in the corner of your eye, you catch him glancing at your direction while you made his coffee which is strange since he never did that.

jason on the other hand seems to be more fidgety, he figured he'd tell you the truth today after you get off of work but it's easier said than done as he's starting to think it was a bad idea. his frequent visits gave him the advantage to eventually learn about your schedule and today happens to be an early leave. he mentally hyped himself up, hunched over the chair with his elbows resting on both his thighs while he waited.

a few minutes passed by and you eventually finished making everything, putting the small plate and fork on a plate along with his drink as you brought it over to his table. you slightly crouched down to carefully place the plate in front of him followed by the drink and fork, jason waited til you were done and looked up to you. he notices the cut still there on the side of your cheek, seemingly in the healing process now. he cleared his throat and nudged his head toward you. "you alright? you got a slit right there" he started.

"hm? oh this. it's uh, it's nothing. i almost got mugged a few nights ago and had to hold up a pretty decent fight" you explained, clutching the tray near to your chest. "oh? well, did you win at least?" jason laid back into the chair, still looking up towards you to see if you'll mention about the 'hero' that saved you. "i guess in some way yeah, someone showed up and kicked some ass within seconds" you said, a smile slowly forming at the thought of red hood creeping your mind once again. "it's a shame i didn't get his name though, he seems like a nice guy"

"...who did you think it was?" jason started, a lump in his throat started forming the more the conversation went on. he waited for an answer, desperate to know what you think and what could be the reason why you did all that during that night. "i have no clue, but he had a red helmet and a pretty sick suit! i'm not a fan of vigilante but that dude's doing it for me. i wanted to ask him out but he looks out of it, he might've been tired so i don't blame him" a slight blush creeped into jason's cheek when he felt it heat up at what you said, he found it amusing that you were practically talking about him while having no idea at the same time.

"that's..that's great" he nodded along, clearing his throat once more as he focused on the food in front of him then back to you. "i uh, i also wanted to ask" your ears perked up at this, pursing your lips into a thin smile. "what time are you...getting off?" he finally says even if he already knew the answer. you were taken back by this, your brows raising at the sudden question. "oh uhm, probably in an hour or so. i have an early leave today so it might be even less than that" you started. "why'd you ask?"

"i..." his voice trailed off, he doesn't seem to get the words out without it sounding like he's asking you out— well, technically he is. "nothing, just curious that's all" he gave a stiff smile as he reached for his fork. "oh okay well, i'll be at the counter if you need me" you said with a smile as you walked away before one of your managers yell at you again for making unneccessary small talk.

jason waited until you went back before releasing a disappointed sigh at himself, he sets down the fork and covered his face with both of his hands— feeling embarrassed at how stupid he sounds asking the question and completely fumbling it over. 'you just had to fuck it up, did you?' he thought to himself. he's never gonna get this over with.

a few minutes passed by and you see jason finishing up his snack, the small plate of cake now left with smudges of frosting and small bits of crumbs and the cup of coffee almost emptied out. you were relieved that he liked the new menu item after months of eating the same thing, it might be the start of something new for him you think. although his question from earlier never left your mind, you tried searching for answers and it all came down to him possibly asking you out.

but why would he? he's way out of your league and he probably knows it, why would he lower his standards to a café worker when he could have anyone out there to go on dates with. was he messing with you or is he trying to give signals? it could explain why he always visited your café and not the famous ones in the city but still, you didn't wanna assume. maybe he's just trying to be friends.

you didn't even realize that jason was already standing on the other side of the counter while you were lost in your thoughts doing the dishes, you heard him call out to you which snapped you out of it. you turn to look behind and see him there with a sheepish smile. you quickly closed the faucet and wiped your hands off as you went up to him, "hey! what's up?"

"nothing, i just wanted to say i'm gonna get going. i still have a few things to catch up on back home" "oh that's fine! goodluck with whatever you're up to then" you cheered him on aa he slightly chuckled, the sound of hearing his laughter for the first time did something to you and you didn't know what it was that made it so attractive. "thanks, i'll see you around" jason finally says with a thin smile.

you waved goodbye and went back to what you're doing as you're trying to shake off the lingering feeling that you just felt, "and y/n" you heard him call out to you again. "make good use of the spray, that's a special advisory" jason said proudly, making his way out of the shop before you could even process what he said

"thank you! I'll ma— wait..." then it finally registered. "WHAT?!"

[turtleduckscribbles]

Happy One Year to Tears of the Kingdom! 🎊

Hope you've all had a wonderful year making delightful new Zelda memories! I know I sure have—it's seriously bonkers how jam-packed this game is, like what. (As of 12:10 last night/morning, the map on my game file officially reads 100%. 🥲 PHEW. And still the completionist grind never ends... Darn you, Great Fairy upgrades!!)

It probably comes as no surprise that I've hardcore had Zelink on the brain for far too long... They're the little monkeys on my back... TOTK was no help to my addiction at all, so in honor of the game's 1-year anniversary, here's a sneak peek for the passion project that's been stewing away in my head over this past year. Plan is 3 parts, 3 chapters each. Post-BOTW, Pre-TOTK. For anyone who's fallen for them as much as I have. 💚

Dropping soon(ish) to AO3~

It took Zelda a second to process what she was looking at. When her vision finally focused, she found herself gazing at an image: A group of snout-nosed bokoblins stood awkwardly before the camera. It was only after considerable study of this image that she realized she was actually looking at a picture of Link.

Posed at the center of the group, Link was the star of the composition. What she had originally taken to be another bokoblin was in reality a bokoblin mask—or rather, helmet—and he wore it proudly. It had a bulbous nose with stitched-in button eyes, and a gaping, toothy mouth where his head fit snugly inside. He appeared to be having a grand old time; with one hand on his hip, he saluted the sky in a show of theatrics, a look of mock seriousness on his face. The encircling bokoblins all gawked at him in utter stupefaction. They clearly had no idea what to make of him. One of them was sniffing his armpit. Another was attempting to wedge its finger into his long felt ear.

It was, simply put, the most ridiculous, the most adorable thing she’d ever seen.

Zelda slapped a hand to her mouth, failing to stifle the strangled noise that bubbled up past her lips. What was the story behind this photograph? Was Link not in danger here? Had the monsters somehow accepted him as one of their own? Where did he even get that helmet? Questions such as these ran rampant in her mind as feelings of mirth crowded out the waves of despair that had threatened to drown her since their abrupt arrival at Fort Hateno.

Link hadn’t taken his eyes off her. He seemed to be waiting for something, some sort of cue or signal, stuck with bated breath in a limbo of uncertainty. Zelda’s heart melted. Even in a sea of stormy, violent tumult, his only concern was for her. She offered him a watery smile.

It was as if she had personally granted him permission to breathe again. With his shoulders loosening, Link smiled back, and to Zelda, it was pure light.

[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

Being Bloodhounds Younger Sibling pt. 2

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Reader: Gender Netural | "you" | Platonic

Notes: the gif makes me smile, bloodhound smiling 🥺

Warnings: none really? Fighting?

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To be honest, when you seen Bloodhound ontop of Fuse like that you were tramatized.

"Y/n-"

Just immediately closing the door.

"I understand your pain now Arthur."

Finally someone gets his pain.

So in traumtization buddies, you feed him instead, along with giving Bear a snack because he ate already

Akward...

You best be sure when Fuse and you get placed on a team he's like:

"So. Eh..heh...hows your day going."

"Good. I suppose. But your face reminds me of the time my sibling was ontop of you."

"Ah...eh...houndy likes to feel poweful."

"My sibling is powerful. You cannot handle them. They go soft on you."

Fuse figures out soon that you dont exactly know what your talking about....

But that kinda makes Fuse think. Is bloodhound easy on him?

Fuse tries to get to know you the best you'll let him. Your standoffish, keep to yourself, Pathfinder is someone thats only really gotten close to you, both physically and mentally.

Its true you've stuck yourself to Pathy while out and about, he showed you kindess and was simply pure of heart

So he was allowed to hug you, allowed to get in your personal space

He just has a vibe that makes him want to be around.

Despite you not suppose to be as he's technology

You see alot of Vantage, Fuse and Bloodhound together.

You figured Vantage is there daughter but wonder why you hadnt been introduced yet.

But before you could bring any of that up your older sibling comes knocking at your door.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Come in."

Bloodhound walks in taking off the mask and helmet, setting it down, "Come. Sit."

Y/n and Bloodhound take a seat on the floor, "i have something for you."

Y/n watched as a box was handed towards them.

"They will aid you."

Y/n was silent as Bloodhound opened the box, "They will help you hear again. Better, easier."

Y/n looked at the book and shook there head.

"Y/n please."

"That is against our ways."

"Y/n." Bloodhound spoke grabbing there hand, "We cannot keep ignoring our future. Rayma has made them for you. They blend in with your hair and skin, they will be hard to see."

Y/n was silent as they watched Bloodhound take them out the box. They trusted Bloodhound with there full heart and mind, and allowed there sibling to fit them to there ears.

"There-"

A loud ringing came with the word as Y/n quickly pulled them out tossing them away holding there ears in pain.

"Sorry! I'm sorry-"

Bloodhound was quick to grab them from the floor, "too strong I suppose. I will turn them down."

Y/n watched as Bloodhound fixed they twisted a little nib, "Lets do one for now."

With time, Bloodhound adjusted them perfectly to your ears

But they couldnt help the look they were given, you looked lost

Maybe this was the final straw? There really was no going back to the old ways

Bloodhounds thankful to Rayma/Rampart,

And like always they help you adjust

And its werid being able to hear everyone so clearly now.

Pathfinder's excited for you, like holding your hands jumping around excited and Wattson joins in

You dont exactly know whats going on

But to thank Rampart you carve something nice,

You stick with a Prowler, the type that stalk the snowy mountains.

While your carving Pathfinder comes over to talk to you on the drop ship.

"So thats bloodhounds sibling?" Vatnage asked.

"Yeah. That the's rumour goin around!" Rampart smiled, "To be honest though mate, we'll never know by looks. No ones ever seen ol' houndy's face."

"Im gonna go say Hi!"

Vantage happily marched her way over, Y/n silent despite Pathfinder's constant talking.

"Hello! Im Mara!"

Y/n looked up then back down at there carving.

"Ooo you carve too? Im a carver myself." Vantage cheered watching Echo relocated infront of Bear.

"Bloodhound is with Fuse. I believe they are the upper deck." Y/n spoke, "Do not eat the bat."

Bear backed up and pouted, Y/n going back to work.

"Wow. You knew before he even opened his mouth! Thats pretty keen!" Vantage cheered, "But I heard your Bloodhound's sibling. You're a hunter too then?"

Vantage was answered with Silence, "You're name's Y/n right? What was your village like?"

Silence again, "Silence is fun too! I'll sit with you and carve with you!"

Y/n was quiet, they always were, after all they had no social skills outside there sibling relationship.

But with this Y/n couldn't help but feel....replaced.

Bloodhound had Fuse, and Vatnage.

They an odd little makeshift family

You didnt wanna ruin anything bloodhound had made for themselves, but the idea of them kinda just going off and leaving to make a new family kinda hurt

You'd never admit that though.

"Hey! Mara!" Mirage cheered making his way over.

"Mr. Witt!" She smiled, "Mr.Witt! This is Y/n! They're bloodhound's sibling! Well. I think they are atleast. Y/n! This is Mr.Witt! He's super cool!"

"I just came to introduce myself to the g-gor-to the pretty new person." Mirage flirted.

"Do you think you are pretty?" Y/n questioned.

"A little yeah." Mirage smiled, leaning on the nearby crates just to slip and fall, Y/n watching him scramble to his feet.

"So! Me? You!? Pork chops?" He smiled, "I have booze! Wait- that sounds wrong- I'm a bar tender! A good one at that!"

"If you're asking me for a partnership you must ask the eldest of my house."

"Oh! Yeah! Parent consent's...cool. even at our age...anyway-"

"Bloodhound is on the upper deck." Y/n responded.

"Huh?"

"Bloodhound is eldest." Y/n informed, "It is bloodhounds word."

Wait....he's....gott ask...

NOT THE HUNTER.

He'll admit. Bloodhound, sweet, nice, but in situations like the games, and serious moments they're pretty uh....spoopy

BUT HE GOES THROUGH WITH IT

WAIT- NO- WAIT MIRAGE NO

"So...Y/n..."

Bloodhound looked at the man, "ah you have met my sibling. I do hope they did not stab you, social skills are not there strong suit."

"No! No! No!"

"Then?"

"I wanted to take them to the bar. Ya know. Hang out with them."

"The bar is not there strong suit i assure you. If you wish to hang out with them truly. Ask to go on a hunt."

"Aye! Witt ya ol' fella!" Fuse cheered coming up with two bottles in his hand, handing one to bloodhound, "if I'da known ya were gonna be here I'da brought you a bottle."

"Im not staying long. Just askin about Y/n."

"Yeah? What's up with the kiddo anyway? Stab anyone new?"

"Witt was hoping to go on....a hangout as he called it." Bloodhound commented.

"Ya wanna take Y/n out on a date?" Fuse commented, "Good Luck."

"What is that ment to mean?" Bloodhound spoke.

"What? Nothin. Y/n...the kid's...just uh." Fuse told, "Diffrent....ya know?"

"No. That is why I inquired."

"The kids....hard to be friendly with. Kids...off putting, rough around the edges."

"You are saying my sibling is rude-"

"No-"

"Then what?" Bloodhound asked standing up.

"I told ya! Y/n's rough around the edges!" Fuse spoke in defense, "Hey! Maybe witt will smooth em out, huh?-"

"Y/n does not need smoothing out. None the less a man nor woman to do so." Bloodhound argued, "here."

The bottle was shoved in Witt's chest, he catching it quickly, "Goodbye. I need to check on Arthur."

"Houndy! I didn-"

But bloodhound was already gone.

You were confused as Bloodhound came back upset though No one could tell but seemingly you

You chased them down worried.

"No need. I am alright." Bloodhound reassured, "I will be back-"

Y/n grabbed Bloodhound by the shoulder stopping them, "Last time you said you'd be back you left....for a long time."

Bloodhound sighed, "I. I am sorry."

"You have apologized enough. I just want to you to tell me whats going on. I can not stop you if you wish to leave."

"A small tussel with Fitzroy is all." Bloodhound responded, "I supoose I am a little defensive as of recent."

So you go to sit with your sibling. Its nice to be in each others presence even in silence.

You're for sure targeting Fuse next match.

So it helps that next match you get put with Revenant and Mad Maggie.

"I want Fitzroy's head."

"I like you already skinsuit."

Talk about trail following. Dude your like ontop there team.

Fuse, Loba and Bloodhound all on one team

So you'd for sure have to take out Fuse secluded.

Luckily your able to single him out, throwing him against a wall.

"Woah now! Houndy wouldn't like you killin' me eh?" Fuse tried to persuade, a joke in the tone of his voice.

"You upset them."

"Ah. That. We talked that out I swear!"

"Hm." Y/n hummed in thought, "Oh well, better luck next time."

finisher for the kill? absolutely

But then Maggie's shouting she's down, and Revenant follows quickly after.

"One last egg! Callin it your family!"

Oh...Is Bloodhound the last one standing?

you can be sure there's an epic standoff.

"May the all father guide my victory."

"And may the Ragnarok falling be as brutal as yours shall be this day."

Bloodhound chuckled, "You were always one for the fall."

"The fall is just as important as the rise." Y/n spoke in defense, "you taught me that."

"You listened well for having been impaired," Bloodhound praised, let us see if your tongue is as swift as your knife."

"Verbalailty is something you reached me not to lean on as well." Y/n spoke, both taking a step forward, "I do hope your age has not impaired you much."

With the last words, they charged at one another, cargo bots that also acted as cameras in the games focused in on the two.

"Hey! Hey! wait!" Wattson called, "Look!"

The two teams stopped the firing, and they all looked at one of the larger screens that were usually meant to show legends, playing the battle out.

"You never bring a knife to a gunfight," Bangalore spoke.

"I don't think it's the gun Y/n's worried about," Wraith told in defense.

"An interesting fighter indeed," Ash praised, "but stupid, very, stupid."

Y/n was knocked on their side, groaning, knife and axe were knocked away.

"You fought well little one." Bloodhound praised, "But I must finish what I have started."

Bloodhound was quick to grab their own axe, Y/n getting to their feet as they stood ready to defend.

Cue the epic battle music

You werent giving up easy, and neither was your older sibling

Think about the Kratos verus Thor fight from the beginning of the game, and...just...thats you guys

But when weapons get knocked away, slidding off the side of the platform is when you both finally realize your just above lava

You got pinned to the railing but managed to fill bloodhound over you barely catching there hand before they fell into the lava below.

"What are you doing!?" Bloodhound argued, "let me go!"

Y/n looked down at them, they'd kill Bloodhound for victory? For Slatra...

"I. I can't!" Y/n argued.

"Y/n! Let me go you've won!" Bloodhound defended.

"I cant! I can't!"

"Why not!?"

"I can't loose you!"

Its like morality had struck you, you were killing your sibling.

"Y/n. Let me go." Bloodhound ordered, "I will be alright. Remember. It is just a game. I will see you back on the ship."

Y/n looked down, loosinging there grip, "You promise?"

"I promise."

So, you dropped Bloodhound, winning the smaller battle, and picked up both teammates.

"Ya crack an egg, good on you kid."

"yeah. Thanks..."

Okay everybody going back to fighting now

Sure enough, you did

You didn't win, placed in the top three though.

You could care less though and ran straight to Bloodhound hugging them tightly.

They congratulate you on your success, you were doing quite well for being new

no matter how old you get praise from your older sibling is always reassuring

Mad Maggie out of all people consoles you, sitting beside you

"You took a big step eh?" She spoke, "It gets easier kids, don't cha worry! Take it from me."

"You're people."

She looked at Y/n and chuckled, "Eh, Salvo's one hell of a dog's arse if I say so at the moment."

"You're people are lucky to have a warrior such as yourself."

"Suppose I'm a bit of a fuck up. Especially when it come to the family."

Y/n looked at her as she handed over a bottle, "One for the top three."

Y/n nodded taking the bottle, "I suppose, I am a fuck up as well."

"Don't let it get ya down-"

Maggie went silent as she watched Y/n chug the liquid from the bottle, "ugh!" Y/n gaged pulling it away "Burns-"

She only laughed as their gagging self.

Here comes Mirage asking you out again,

"On a hunt."

"You hunt here?"

"yeah sure why not."

It's been a while since you went on a hunt, and so you invited Bloodhound excitedly.

Vantage wants to go and even cuts in asking.

You are still iffy about Vantage: you can't help it, just human nature you suppose, being jealous.

But here comes octane wanting to join too,

"A group hunter sounds refreshing. Y/n?"

You nodded and said you were inviting one more person too then.

So when you're all dropped off and given a few days rest, you all gather at a ship, and there you come dragging Revenant

Mirage wishes he just invited you to read in his room at this point.

[maryoliverdotcom]

A Shade Darker Than Red: Chapter 6.5 (Part 2)

Chapter 6.5 (Part 1)

I stopped in front of the ice-cream seller, unfastening the helmet from my head. “Do you have rabri kulfi, uncle?” I asked in Bangla.

The man nodded. “How many?”

I gestured towards the gang, who were screeching to a halt beside me.  “Five will do—and one kesar pista kulfi, please,” I answered the ice-cream seller as I climbed off the scooter, helping Paro off. She wrinkled her nose, raising an eyebrow. I booped her nose, watching a smile spread over her face. 

“How did you know I’d want a kesar pista today?” she asked, rubbing her nose.

I shrugged. “I know you better than I know myself.”

Paro laughed. “Dork,” she whispered, raising herself on her toes to whisper it into my ears.

I turned to see Madhu being held back by Rathode, who looked like he was about to burst into a fit of giggles.

“What are they doing?” Paro asked, wrinkling her nose. I almost wanted to boop it again, except I was sure that this time, Madhu would explode into tiny hearts.

“Dominance practice,” I replied dryly.

“Hey!” Rathode cried as Kiran and Prarthana erupted into loud guffaws. Paro stared at me incredulously for a second before snorting.

The ice-cream man handed us our kulfis each as Kiran handed him the money. “Last time, Prarthana treated us,” they said. “Hands off of your own wallets.”

“You’re only paying for this one so another one of us has to pay at an expensive restaurant,” Madhu teased.

Kiran pressed a hand to their chest. “I’m offended,” they said, looking delighted.

Paro chuckled. “I like your friends.”

“I mean, I don’t exactly have a return slip, so it’s hard for me to agree,” I teased. Prarthana elbowed me in the ribs.

“Parvati, come on! We have so much to talk about!” Madhu cried. “Tell us every embarrassing story about Renu.”

As Paro walked towards them, I noticed a saunter in her hips. Her waist-length hair was tied up in a ponytail, a few strands sticking to her neck in the heat. She was still wearing a plaid white shirt and brown trousers, while the anklets still jingled around her ankles. The veins showed in her hands, and I wondered how desperately she had been practising bharatanatyam. Perhaps it was what poetry was to me, a desperate lifeline, something to cling on to with every step, every jingle of the anklet.

As I watched her talk to them, her spine straight and a polite smile on her face, something inside me shattered.

I don’t know what. All I know is while I had my rabri kulfi, a sharp ache kept throbbing in my chest. And then came the red.

Red. Red. Red. Red.

Red, and not even Paro could stop it this time.

This was what the Red was like, engulfing me at random times. I could be at my sister’s birthday party having the time of my life (albeit dressed as a clown) and suddenly, the Red would come. Slowly but surely, starting from the corner of my eye to the entirety of everything I knew and loved—it would come, with its silent footsteps.

I glanced at Paro. She was already looking at me, a worried expression on her face.

I’m okay, I heard myself say. Go on, Paro. Talk to them. They’re good guys.

Paro called my name. Renu, at the back of my mind. Renu, they’re great, but you need to be here, too.

No I don’t, I heard the Red speak for me. 

Madhu and Rathode turned slowly towards me, worry coating their features. Madhu brushed his hair out of his eyes, calling out my name. 

Prarthana looked at me with widened eyes. She opened her mouth and she might’ve said something, but it didn’t make a difference.

The only voice I could hear right then was that of Paro. Renu, Renu, Renu. Renu, are you okay? Renu, is it happening again? Renu, do you want to go home?

I smiled. The world was spinning, but I didn’t care. As long as Paro kept calling my name like I was the only thing that mattered, I would be okay.

Something—someone—touched my shoulder, and the Red was sucked back into my chest. I stumbled backwards, almost bumping into a stranger. I turned to apologise, but I couldn’t bring myself to form coherent speech.

“Renu,” I heard someone say. Someone who smelled like incense and looked like the goddess Parvati. “Renu.” Paro.

Paro, Paro, Paro. 

I opened my eyes, staring right into Paro’s face. Her brown eyes frantically searched for a flicker of red in mine, her hands gripping my shoulders like I was the only thing she had left.

“Paro,” I said. Paro, Paro, Paro.

Paro breathed a sigh of relief. “Renu,” she exhaled. “How are you feeling?”

My hands were cold and beads of sweat rolled down my forehead. Paro raised the back of her hand and touched my forehead, pulling her arm back with a gasp.

“Renu,” she said, “you’re burning up.”

“But she was fine just a few minutes ago!” Prarthana said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“No, I’m fine,” I said, pushing Paro’s hand away. “Just zoned out for a second.”

“You’re red,” Kiran observed. “And sweaty,” Rathode offered.

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks a lot, guys.”

Paro pursed her lips. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“But you called.”

“You just had a panic attack,” she snapped. “I’m not worth that much,” she said, her voice softening.

I frowned. “Shut up.”

“Why?”

“You’re worth it. To me.”

Silence.

I half expected Madhu to erupt into a fit of giggles, but he stayed silent, scrutinising my every movement. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I grinned. “Never been better.”

Prarthana clapped my back. “No lying will be tolerated here, idiot.”

I pouted. “I’m telling you, I’ll be amazing right after I have my rabri kulfi!”

“Uhm—about that,” Kiran said, pointing towards my rabri kulfi—or what was left of it—splattered on the pavement. I groaned, stumbling back into Paro’s arms.

“Don’t worry, Renu, you can have my kesar pista,” she said, catching me before I could bump into another unsuspecting stranger.

I shook my head. “I can’t,” I whined. “It’s your favourite!”

“Of course you can,” Paro said, her voice stern. “We’ll share.”

I stared at her, my jaw slackening. 

Madhu’s gaze flickered between Paro and me. “Yeah, you could share,” he said in a small voice. Prarthana glared at him. “Get your headgear first, boy,” she muttered so only Madhu and I could hear.

Paro slowly uncurled my clenched fingers and placed the kulfi’s stick in my palm. “Have a bite, go on,” she said. I felt like I was living in a fever dream. We had always shared food, why was this any different?

Rathode cleared his throat. “I wish my boyfriend was this gentle with me,” he said in a sing-song voice. Madhu went red.

“Oh come on,” Kiran said. “He’s gentle with you in many ways. You’re rougher.”

“Yeah, in the bedroom,” I muttered, absent-mindedly taking a bite out of the kulfi. Ouch. Brain freeze.

It must’ve shown on my face, because Paro gently smacked me on the back of my head. “Idiot,” she muttered, looking at me like I was the stupidest thing she’d ever seen. I’d never get tired of that stare, would I?

Prarthana kept sucking on her kulfi. She stared at Kiran in a way that made them blush. They glanced at me, a bashful smile on their lips. I grinned back, gesturing towards Prarthana with my eyes. Go on, make a move.

Rathode’s hand was absent-mindedly roaming over the expanse of Madhu’s neck, a shiver running down his spine; whether from the freezing kulfi or Rathode’s hand, I didn’t want to know.

I smiled absent-mindedly, looking at my friends. I had grown up with them, our laughter had often annoyed the teachers to no end and echoed throughout the long hallways of the school’s corridor. And now, as they each fell in love one by one, I could only hear one name echoing throughout my mind, a name that made no sense but then, paradoxically, it was the only thing that made sense in my world of Red. Paro.

As if on cue, Paro gently took the kulfi from me and took a bite out of it. She hummed contentedly, leaving a lipstick mark on the edge of the kulfi.

It was only when I looked up that I noticed she had been looking at me for a little too long, a content smile on her lips.

@avani-amulya @manujanolavu @nirmohi-premika @lovesickpdf @arachneofthoughts @sonilaalbindi @desi-yearning @alhad-si-simran @thatpagalchokri @trashmeowcan @waitingforthesunrise @vellibandi @thesunandstarss @chanda-chamke-cham-cham @damnn-dorothea @the-unhinged-fanwinggg @watchingblsnowandforever @disproportionatelysculpting @bundle-of-glitter please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist <3

[umbralsound-xiv]

Frosted Favour.

Our next sun together took us to the frozen north, to Mor Dhona and Coerthas. I had been to neither during my time in Eorzea, and had little idea of what to expect, save that it was cold. ...Thankfully, i had managed to find a coat suiting for the journey...

"I do wish this coat would have come in some other colour than white, but suppose i shall just endeavor not to get it dirty. It is certainly… Warm, mind." Eir remarked, as they walked the path onwards. "Barely a flake of snow to be seen. I assume that will change, when we get to Coerthas…"

Sayuri tilts her head, eyes lidded as her gaze rests upon him - lips curled into a small smile. "You look adorable." She hums, squeezing his hand. ".. It will."

Eir huffs, a small glow of red at his cheeks. "Adorable. I have not heard that one before. Something to do with all of this… Fluff, i am wearing." He'd almost be pouting if he could, walking further up the path. "You are always cute, anyway. You do not need fluff for such a description."

She flaunts a wide smile, raising her free hand over to him to lightly brush her fingers along the fluffier part of his attire. ".. Soft." She nigh whispers, before rising her gaze back up to his features and allowing her lips to form into a pout. ".. Nnno." She denies, childishly.

"Yyyyyeees." Eir replies, just as childishly, the pout of her lips inviting him in for a swift kiss. He pulls back with a grin. "Especially when you make pouting faces like that at me."

She meets his lips quite joyously, despite the pout that remains on her lips. His latter comment prompts the tip of her tongue to slowly slip past and poke his way. "..Nnnno."

"Mmmmyyyees." Another kiss, and before she can protest, he moves further onwards, where his footsteps slow to a stop. "…Such a… View… It is beautiful…"

Open, clear skies, and a towering structure of crystal. To see the world with her... I do not think i have ever enjoyed travelling so much. Of course, the purpose for doing so does not go without mention, too.

She merely huffs as they move on, squeezing his hand gently. Her gaze shifts across the area, settling on various areas on the back before seeking its way to the mark before them. ".. It almost looks like it's clad in ice."

"It… Does. But it is crystal, i think?" Burying the toe of his boot into the dirt; or trying to, he seems to test that theory. "…But it certainly is nice to look at. Even the tree is taken with it…"

Sayuri nods gently. ".. It's like the Burning Wall, only blue."

"…An… Aether scar, i think they were called…" Eir approaches the stone, and pulls out a sprig of lavender, which he sets before the mark. "See that no matter how many cycles i live, i will always choose to learn. Be that words of her language, or a recipe for her favourite food. I would learn it all."

"They are." She observes as Eir makes his offering, features softening at his words. She eventually approaches herself, extending a hand into her satchel to withdraw a small scroll tied with a bright blue band, which she slowly settles down next to the lavender. ".. I.. have no words fitting here, truly, and I apologise for it." She glances up at the mark, one ear drooping. ".. But I hope the offering will suffice, and be to your liking." She slowly withdraws, hand immediately seeking out Eir's.

His hand finds her own, offering a loving squeeze. "…We have said what we needed to. The next… Suppose i should steel myself for colder climes, hm? I know they will not be even half as pleasant as your cold…"

She glances up at him, offering a soft smile and a squeeze of her own. ".. I sadly can't warn you for how bad it'll be."

"…No worse than Garlemald, i imagine. I still remember losing sensation in my ears. No helmet would ever fit. I am surprised they are still attatched…"

I know even other Miqo'te that were not unscathed by bullets or magicks. Some lost ears... I... Do wonder, sometimes, how she lost her own...

".. I would not know. I.. feel neither heat nor cold." She pauses. ".. I -can- feel cold, but.. Something is usually incredibly wrong when I do." Her gaze lifts up to his ears, head tilting. ".. I'm glad they are."

"…I would be happier that you do not feel it, if to do so is because you are ill. And… Me too. It would make hearing much harder, if so. All this time, and the only holes i have put in them are the ones i have made myself." He reaches up, to tap an earring. "But there have been close encounters…"

"It doesn't happen often, thankfully." She offers a reassuring smile, offering his hand a comforting squeeze. ".. Well. Having a torn ear isn't particularly fun.. So lets keep it that way." Her own torn ear flick faintly as she speaks, her smile remaining.

"…Does it affect your hearing at all? I… Do not know. It does not seem to." He asks, wandering onwards. "…I could not even think for what it would be like."

Her head shakes lightly. "No, not really. I was more shocked to have lost it when I woke up in the infirmary afterwards." She pauses, gazing outwards and along the road as they walked. ".. Admittedly? I.. am not sure how it was removed, I was unconscious at the time. And the only other person that might know.. I don't want to ask." She grimaces faintly.

"I see…" He offers the smallest of frowns, thumb trailing over the back of her hand as he gives her a comforting squeeze. "I have always wondered, but did not… Ever want to ask. In case it brought bad memories. Scars rarely come with pleasant ones."

".. I don't mind you asking, about any of them. You're the only one who knows of all of them aside from myself. I have spoken to Bexy of them, but not.. shown them too much?" She offers a small shrug. ".. I was out in the Shroud with X'thia, at a time I was still attempting to create a relationship with her, and we were ambushed."

"And… You were unconscious…?" Eir asks, worriedly. "…But you survived. I assume the assailant is dead?"

She offers a small nod. ".. We lost the fight, I lost consciousness. When I awoke, we were in the infirmary, being tended to by.. G'rallin and Timur." She pauses. "..Timur being a Xaela who was in the East with me, he has since left, like the rest." Her gaze passes over to Eir, head sinking into a nod. "They are." Another pause lingers, as a small exhale leaves her. ".. It.. was shortly after Bexy's wedding, she was taken from us and we were given a body, altered to look like her." The memory draws Sayuri’s lips into a small frown. “.. We had a funeral and everything, and then.. the ambushes started. Nigh every sun, someone among us was attacked while out, even if we were not alone.”

"…How long ago was this?" Eir asks, but the alarm is clear in his tone; it's the first he'd heard of it. "…You thought her dead? Ambushes…?" He searches her gaze, for some kind of answer.

What... What horrors has she endured since leaving the East? I thought the Locket was dreadful enough, but to know there is so much more, i... ...I do not think now was the time to ask of it, but... I... Would like to know. I think.

".. Two cycles ago." She raises her head, looking over to him. ".. We did." Her ears flatten a touch, brows furrowing. ".. We started digging into it, and pulled up more questions than answers.. We.. realised the body we had was not her. She had been taken by some bastard from her own past, one who.. preyed on Miqo'te such as us, to my knowledge. All those who ambushed us were imbalanced Miqo'te."

"…I dread to think all you have been through that i have never known about…" His hand tightens protectively around her own, as they walked. "…Another reason why it makes sense that she is so… Protective, of you. If you had helped her in such a situation…"

She squeezes his hand gently, head turning back to gaze along the road. ".. When we found out who had her, and.. that he was after imbalanced Miqo'te.. Mist very reluctantly agreed to G'rallin, X'thia and myself to act as bait, to get.. captured, and break free once we knew the location they were going to bring us to." She slowly glances back to him, one ear drooping. ".. We had prepared with crystals of our elements, and broke free with relative ease. We rescued Bexy just a sun after bringing word to Mist."

"Gods, Sayuri!" His word is almost a scold, though his brows knit and there is sorrow in his gaze. He stops walking to throw his arms around her and pull her against him in silence, head buried to her own. A breath, then… And silence, as the words died on his lips.

Her ears flatten, an almost guilty look settling on her features at the sorrow. She's swift to embrace him as he pulls her in, her head gently pushing against him. ".. I'm fine, Eir." She speaks softly, rubbing her palm along his back. ".. I wasn't alone, and it was two cycles ago."

"I know… I… Know. Just…" He releases her to look over her, features twisted in some conflicted, guilty expression. "Just… Please. Be careful, if… If such a thing need ever happen again." His silver gaze settled with hers, then. "…I can not lose you. Not so soon…"

She smiles softly, her arms slowly withdrawing from their coil to raise up and gently cup his cheeks. ".. Of course, I have you to return to, now." She murmurs softly, tiptoeing as she sought to press her lips against his.

...To think she was ever so reckless, i... I hope she is more careful, now. To know i am here, home and waiting for her... ...To think it ever happened at all. It brings a swell of nausea in my gut at the mere thought of it...

His head settled against the cup of her hands, eyes lidding as her lips met with his own. "…And i will be waiting. Always. Or at least home soon after." A fainter smile, as he takes her hand back into his own. "…Shall we keep going? I think… I am beginning to feel the cold from the mountains…"

She gently squeezes his hand in return, keeping a warm smile on her lips. Her head sinks into a nod. "Lets."

Eir returns the nod, hand in her own, departing for the mountain path that would surely lead to Coerthas.

...We made way for the mountains, then. It was a fair walk, i know. But with each footsteps we drew closer... And when the faint flurries of snow began, i only began to think how long it had been since i had seen it...

Slowly but surely, the two venture through the mountain pass. The snow and cold of Coerthas becoming more and more apparent the closer they get to the border, until they officially step out into the snowy land. Sayuri casts the occasional glance Eir's way, to determine how well he's dealing with the cold as they walk.

"…Snow. It has been so long…" He holds his free hand out, to allow some to settle in his palm. He doesn't seem too discomforted by it, on account of wrapping up warm. "It reminds me of you." He smiles, gazing to her.

She offers a soft smile, head tilting. ".. Incredibly pale? Cold?" She snickers.

"Pale. Pretty. Nice to look at." He walks onwards, murmuring quietly. "Offers a painful death to anyone who underestimates it…"

She cracks a grin, an amused chuckle following at the latter part of his sentence. ".. Well that's not quite what I expected you to answer."

"Perhaps not, but it is the truth, hm?" His expression softens at her laughter. "You are a formidable woman in every way. Both in your kindness… And in your ferocity."

"..Well, to those who harm those I love moreso." She mumbles, offering the tiniest pout. ".. I'm not -that- kind. I am to you, because I love you."

"You are plenty kind. You could have continued running the Yakuza the way those before you had, but you did not. You took pity on those who had endured as you had. And even before you fell in love with me… You offered me friendship. You were kind to me, long before love."

".. Run it the way -Hayate- did?" The name leaves her with a hint of disgust, her features twisting into a grimace. ".. I would've rather given myself up to the Garlean Embassy, as he often threatened me with." She grumbled, pinning her ears back. She glances over to him, one hear slowly rising. ".. I still caused plenty of crime, even if there was some I offered kindness." She paused, gaze turning aside. "..Mostly children." She mumbled, kicking at a tiny patch of snow sulkily. ".. I -guess-."

"…That you did to anyone was enough." Eir squeezes her hand in his own as a quiet sign of affection. "You are kind, Sayuri. Or you always have been to me. You were under no obligation to help me, the first sun we met… But you did."

She returns a squeeze, glancing up at him. ".. I didn't do much. Help you get a shirt off, that was the extent of my help." She huffs faintly, leaning over to gently boop her head against his shoulder mid-walk, as she often does. ".. A boy ran up to me in Kugane, once. He.. asked me to kill someone for him, which.. left me kind of surprised, to be honest. A girl followed him, and apologised for him placing himself in my path."

"That is… Surprising…" Eir begins, brows knit. "…Did you?" He pauses, unsure whether he wanted the answer to that question, or not. "…You were plenty of help. You begun your talent for removing my clothes quite early." He snickers.

“… Yes.” She admits, glancing up at him. “.. I told them no, initially.. And sent a retainer of mine to follow up on the accusations of abuse they put on their stepfather. It was one of the few moments I would’ve preferred to find out it was a lie, and they simply did not like him. I.. took that a little more personal than I should’ve, I think.” A slow exhale left her, brow lofting at his latter words. “A talent I intend to hone.”

"…At least you did it for the right reason. Personal or no." Eir lofts a brow at her retort, barking a laugh. "I have no opposition to you wanting to better your skills. Just… Ah… Perhaps wait until we are home, on account of me not wishing to freeze to death…"

".. I made sure to have him hauled out of the home beforehand, I didn't want to traumatise the children." She mumbled, before managing a small smirk. "..Gods, Eir. I -have- restraint." She pouts.

"So you do. Not much, though." He teases, head nudged to hers as he entered the mouth of the cave. "…It is so… I have never seen ice like this…" He begins.

".. Three moons!" She blurts out defensively, only to smile and nudge her head back against his. ".. Besides, you're not much better than me in that regard." She murmurs, letting her gaze wander the cave.

"Nor do i care to be." Eir hums, moving behind her to briefly pull her into an embrace, mindful of the axe. "…This is… Halone, yes?"

Sayuri leans herself into the embrace, nudging the back of her head into him with a soft smile. “.. Yes. The Fury, Goddess of war. Patron deity of Ishgard.”

Eir takes a steadying breath as he looks upon the mark, and after a small squeeze, releases Sayuri to approach. A small metal button is left in the middle of the room; worn and tarnished with age, it bears a Garlean insignia. "…Halone. I have been at war once, and loathed every part of it…" Eir trails, lowering his head. "…But if i must ever draw my weapons again, to protect myself or those closest to me… Please, give me the strength to best them."

...A button from my old uniform. I... Still have it. Tucked beneath my bed. It... Feels like something i should tell her about before she finds it herself... ...I should probably get rid of it, and yet... Part of me cannot let go yet. It does not symbolise Garlemald or their regime for me, but it is more a marker of... My friends. The company i kept, then. When i was Angeir Pyr Rava, and all i had to look forward to was surviving another sun, and a warm cup of whatever was worth drinking, and... Them. ...Does... Anyone remember them? ...Anyone but me?

She offered a nudge of her head in response to the squeeze before he let go, quietly watching as he moved forth to settle his offering. Her gaze locks upon it, recognising the insignia even from afar - prompting the tiniest of grimaces to take to her features, albeit it fades quickly. Her steps soon sees her wandering forth, withdrawing a crystal from her pouch - a weak hint of icy aether swirling within it. She gazes at it in silence for a time, slowly closing her hand around it. “.. There is no God specifically for magic, yet.. With you as the Goddess of war, and your element being that of my own.. A part of myself that I use for battle..” She lowers her head a touch, ears flattening as she clutches the crystal tighter. “.. If it is within your power, please.. Help me overcome this restriction.. That I may use my abilities to protect my friends, my loved ones..” She lowers herself down to settle the crystal next to the insignia, soon standing upright and looking up to the mark. “.. Please.” It left her as a mere whisper, before a slow exhale leaves her and she turns to make her way back to Eir - a small frown on her features as she immediately seeks to coil her arms around him.

Eir wraps his arms around Sayuri at her approach, holding her close for several long moments. "You will not be this way forever, my love…" He whispers quietly, a hand shifting up to stroke through her hair.

Sayuri presses her head into his chest, tightening her wrap around him. ".. Perhaps not.." She mumbles, exhaling a slow sigh. Her ears twitch faintly at the motion, her body sinking against his a little further.

"…You will not. And even if you are… You will be able to defend yourself and others, still. But i doubt it will come to that, my moon." Slowly, he leans to press his lips to her forehead, where he lingers for some time. "…I love you. No matter what, yes?"

".. My aether will still react to my emotions.. It stirring will.. make it hurt." She lowers her gaze, frowning softly. ".. I will be more of a liability than help on the battlefield, if it remains this way.." Her eyes shut briefly as his lips settle against her forehead, a softer sigh leaving her. ".. And I you." She murmurs, offering a gentle squeeze.

"…It will not always be this way." Eir repeats quietly, giving her a final squeeze before he releases her to take her hand anew. "…come. We still have one more to visit this sun, yes?"

She hesitantly releases him, swiftly grasping onto his hand as it seeks hers out. She nods faintly, squeezing his hand. "..We do."

Leaning to press his lips briefly to her crown, Eir turns to walk onwards, then. "…The last for this sun is… Menphina, yes? Goddess of the moon…?" He says quizically, glancing to her.

".. Yes." Sayuri mumbles, drawing a deeper breath. ".. And of love." She returns a glance, tilting her head.

The moon, and love... That both go hand in hand in this realm is... A coincidence, perhaps? ...Perhaps.

Eir stares at Sayuri for a long, quiet moment, wordless. It's almost prying, as his brows loft, but the grin curls into one of mischief. "Perhaps you are not a Princess after all…" Eir begins, amused. "…Perhaps you are…" He stops, to turn and settle both hands on her shoulders, leaning down to her face. "…A Goddess?"

Her gaze narrows, brows furrowing. She keeps her stare locked upon him as he stops and turns her, only for her features to soften. An almost pained smile settles on her lips, brows remaining furrowed. ".. I'd be a poor excuse of a Goddess."

"What makes you say that? You have granted my every wish." Eir walks on, retaking her hand for the journey.

She merely shakes her head slightly, fingers shifting to intertwine with his as they move on.

"…Well, it does sound like something of a demanding duty. Perhaps you are my own personal Goddess. But i think i prefer the term 'Wife' better."

".. Having the power of one wouldn't go amiss." She huffs, leaning her head over to boop it against his shoulder, as she often does. ".. A wife I will be, at least." She pauses. ".. Yours, specifically."

"Mine." The way he says the word is a soft, warm thing. "My moon." He cooes, walking onwards. "…The snows are far fairer here than they are in Garlemald. But… Perhaps, it is because i am with you…"

".. My heart." She murmurs, managing a soft smile. ".. Does my presence make you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside?" She teases.

"Just as warm and fuzzy as this coat." He retorts, beaming. "…Yes. You make me feel a wide array of things. A lot more than what i have words for, certainly."

She snickers quietly, squeezing his hand. "Only good things, I hope."

"The best things. Happiness, comfort. Love. Safety. Many more things besides." He kisses her, again. "…Like i have a chest full of butterflies, sometimes. It is a good thing."

She smiles, squeezing his hand anew and wiggling her ears. ".. I'm glad." She murmurs, her spirits certainly having begun lifting since the last offering.

"How… Do i make you feel…?" Eir asks, in a sort of quiet, innocent way. He doesn't elaborate, but his expression belies some hesitation, walking through the snows.

".. Gods, I'll just sound like I'm reciting you." She gave a faint laugh, ears lowering a little as she, again, squeezes his hand. "..I feel a peace unlike what I have ever felt before when I'm with you. I feel comfort in your presence, and so much love and joy from every little moment we have together.." She pauses, glancing up at him.

Eir flushes a little from the colour of his cheeks, glancing away. "…That-- It is very sweet." He murmurs, head nudging against hers. Though with the growing blizzard, Eir hunches further into his shoulders. "…We… Must be close, yes…? I… cannot see so well from the snow…"

Sayuri smiles, nudging her head back against his affectionately. "It should be just up ahead, I think."

"So… I remember reading. I hope there is somewhere to stay not so far from here…" A shiver dances down his spine from the cold. "Somewhere… Warm…"

The cold was... Beginning to get to me, even through this warm coat. Letting go of her hand was not an option...

"..We should be able to stay in the camp we walked through.."

"…I hope so…" Eir murmurs, reaching the summit. The piles of stones first catch his attention, but it's the one furthest along that takes his interest. "…We are here. Menphina…" Eir repearts, looking over the mark. "…And that is… Ishgard?"

".. I'll throw some coin their way if need be." She gave a small shrug, glancing over to the city before nodding. "It is."

"…Like some kind of fairytale castle. I… Have never seen it in person." He looks upon the mark, considering quietly, before stepping forth. A mirror is placed on the snow, face-up. "…If it was you who saught to guide us together, then i have no greater thanks i can possibly ever give. Even in the darkest of times does the moon offer light… And so too does she. My love… My moon…" Eir trails, a little red in the cheeks. "…I would ask you to marry me again, if i had not already done so."

...All i could think to give her was a mirror. A flower would perish so quickly in the cold; all save for Sayuri, anyway. A circular mirror. Like the moon. I would give her the prettiest thing for her namesake; a reflection of all the things i held dearest. Her.

She smiles, leaning in to gently nudge her head against him. "I'd say yes again." She beams up at him, eyes lidding. Once she has decided to pull her gaze away from him, she lowers her hands into her pouch, withdrawing a small moon daisy which she settles next to the mirror. ".. Thank you, for giving me people who loved me, who I could return it to. For the people I proudly call my parents, for the woman I call my sister.." Her hand seeks out Eir's, her smile widening. ".. The man I will soon call my husband."

Eir warms at her words, gazing to her fondly. "…It always feels like there is so much more i want to say, only i do not have the words…" He glances down the road which they had arrived from, knowing he would soon walk back down. "…We… Should find a place to sleep, perhaps? Out of the cold…? Or at least… As out of the cold as we are able to manage. After tomorrow, at the very least we will have the comfort of our own bed. Or pillow pile, as it may be."

".. There isn't enough words to fully convey the feelings." She murmurs, leaning her head over to rest it against him. ".. We should probably find somewhere to rest, yes."

"…We should. And depart early enough in the morning for the Shroud… And then home. I have missed it… Even if we have only been away for a few suns. I know that sounds… Silly, perhaps. Though i have enjoyed my time travelling with you."

She nods gently. ".. It's been nice, but I'll be glad to be home as well."

As much as i am enjoying our travels... ...What i would not give, to be curled up in the pillow pile with her...

[futurefind]

No Time for Cleaning

Or: A Hypothetical Master Sasume vs Camelot Singularity

There's blood on her hands.

On her skin, under her nails. Pouring out of her past the ice and the bandages and the stitches, and she can't tell where she ends and her losses begin.

It's too easy to imagine awake, and when she closes her eyes her skull sears with the crimson spilt and so she doesn't close them at all.

The Lion King's soldiers spill the blood of men and mothers and women and children hot against her face, and she thinks to finally get it off would require clawing her flesh off with it.

Rushd still smiles when he thanks her for water, whether it's the first or the tenth or the hundreth time and god knows how many hours spent absently filling wells.

Entire towns are eradicated by starlight that seers itself beneath her eyelids, the same as Stella as Arash breathes his last.

There's blood on her hands.

She doesn't know if it's hers, or where it's come from, but it doesn't matter. One clang of her sword erupts a shielding wall of ice, bisecting one of the knight's arms in the process. Another sends in speeding down in dagger-shards. She twists around one's sword, pinning them in place for her Servants with a frosted grip as she sends a flaming kick into another's helmet and sends them alight with a stench that makes her stomach roil and her shoulder itch.

She roars back, iron and ash alight in her dead mouth, and keeps moving through the fray.

Bedivere smiles away her concern— just as he smiles away her dismissals of being called 'Lady'— even as she offers him a knowing gaze. They talk around it more than they talk about it, because many things are better left unsaid, especially what's most familiar.

The Pharoah stares her dead in the eye with his throat cleaved in two, and she glares right back, almost wondering if he can see the crimson trail she leaves in her footsteps.

Da Vinci laughs like she always does, regardless of the tension. Laughs like she always does, even as she happily rushes off to her own death to leave her behind (she's always left behind, isn't she?).

There's blood on her hands.

There's blood on her hands and she's screaming. Ripped apart from the inside out 'til it's erupting from her throat in a numbing cacophony, pulsing in time with the pain in her heart.

Bedivere's dying.

Da Vinci, dying.

Arash, those she's never known the names off and those she's forgotten, all people she's sworn to protect—

Her mother, her—

Her everyone, it seems like.

She shoves her way out of the Coffin—and isn't that ironic, isn't that fitting?— and past the others, past Romani, numbly following her feet even as the world itself burns with too-much.

She's in the training hall, and she—

She cuts and slices and slams her sword so hard her teeth rattle, so fierce that before she knows it her palms are too raw and slick to hold a proper grip.

"I'M SICK—!

AND TIRED—!

OF LOSING PEOPLE—!"

She throws her mother's blade away from her with a shout, letting it clatter from wall to wall to floor as she tightens her gloves.

Punches and pivots and hits with her fists with just as little (none) relent until her knuckles bruise and her skin tears and she. Keeps. Going.

Resorts to kicks and knees when even her arms start to fail.

And she—

She screams. Screams and screams and screams, until she's deaf to the sound. Until the pain rips out of her ribcage with it, spreading her heart and gore and viscera splattering against the room as much as her voice.

She crumbles.

Stares at the ceiling (the wall?) until she's staring past it in its entirety. Maybe if she stares hard enough, stares-past enough, she can see those she's lost again if she tries hard enough.

She wonder's if she's laughing, or sobbing, or screaming, or if it's just her heart rattling in her ears as unsteadily as the world around her.

There's blood on her hands.

...She can worry about getting it off tomorrow.

[we-are-all-of-legend-now]

I know you normally write Jake and Rose but I was wondering if you could write Spud and Stacey? Something fluffy where they're in an established relationship? Thank you.

I low-key ship Spud and Stacey the more I think about it ...

Keep on sending in prompts 🥰

Warnings: written on my phone

Stacey could admit that she had only agreed to go on a date - one date! - with Arthur Spudinski because one of her girlfriends had dared her to. They were two weeks away from high school graduation and Stacey had agreed because she was never going to have to see him again. She remembered how the cheer team had snickered when he'd run up to her at graduation, his robe flapping open and his hat barely on his head. Stacey had looked immaculate with her hair brushed back and her robe buttoned perfectly - even her tassle hadn't dared to move from its designated spot.

"You look beautiful," Spud had panted.

"Thanks, " Stacey had said, not sure what kind of tone she should take with him in front of her friends.

She hadn't told her friends anything about her date with Spud, let alone the truth. How could she have explained that he wasn't what they thought he was? He was the perfect gentleman, even if his jokes weren't funny. He was smarter than he appeared and had been the first one who hadn't laughed at the fact that she wanted to go into marine biology, rather than modelling, like everyone expected. He had genuinely seemed to want to just get to know her and, so, when he parked his dingy car outside of her house to walk her up to the front door, she had jumped on him, fitting them both in the driver's seat.

"Something's missing," Spud said.

Then, to Stacey's shock and her friends' horror, Spud pulled a lock free of Stacey's hairsprayed helmet of hair and let it dangle past her ear, down to her cheek.

"Perfect," Spud said and then he had kissed her with a familiarity that would have sent the rumour mill flying if there had still been enough of one.

Several years older and thousands of experiences wiser, it was that moment Stacey thought of as she looked at herself in the mirror, dressed and ready for her college graduation. She was what no one had expected her to be: still a cheerleader and still smart. She smiled at herself and then reached up, freeing a lock of hair from her ponytail and letting it cascade down the side of her face.

There was a knock on her apartment door and Stacey went to open it, her heart already fluttering. When she swung the door open, she was greeted by a bouquet of flowers so large that she couldn't see the man underneath. She reached down and found his hand, giggling as she led him to the kitchen. Spud dropped the bouquet of flowers onto her counter with a thud and then bent into a flourished bow.

"Congratulations, Stacey!" Spud trumpeted because he had always been her biggest supporter.

Spud looked up at her and gasped, like it was the first time he'd ever seen her. "Wow, you're beautiful." He stood and wrapped his arms around her, murmuring, "Perfect."

Stacey had spent her entire life striving toward perfect but she had never felt that she was even so much as enough - until she was his.

[callmemaeverick]

The First of Firsts [Master Chief x Reader]

AN: I would like to dedicate this to @dayane245love because her ask gave me the kick I needed to write this fic. She requested for me to give Reader a name, so for you, Dayane and whoever preferred to read this fic as John x OFC, you can read it on AO3

Warning: This is so full of cheese, if you’re lactose intolerant DNI…. Kidding 🤭..

This is part III of Soldier Sweet series. Read part ii here

You didn't expect to see John that night, wandering out of the massive base, his face dazed and somewhat confused. After the last few days, with him going AWOL after that mission in Madrigal, you would have thought that Halsey would have wanted to keep him on a tighter leash. He was, after all, her favorite.

You had been beside yourself with worry when you found out what had happened. In the months since John brought your earring back to you, since he volunteered to help you with your tour, you had became friends of sort. But trying to get answers on how he was doing was next to impossible and you could tell that the events had left Halsey and the higher ups on edge. Apparently, a Spartan is technically incapable of going rogue. And this was a first.

Shouldering your bag strap over your shoulder, you decided to approach him.

It was still an adjustment, seeing his face. You haven’t been around Spartans as much as the soldiers as your work tend to keep you indoors, so seeing him out of armor is a novelty. He was handsome, you had to admit. The strong jaw, the intense green eyes. You remembered the way his naked gaze fell on you, burning your skin, feeling it even when he had his helmet on. You would only admit to yourself, though, that feeling his eyes following you made butterflies flit in your stomach.

He stood still in the middle of a sea of soldiers, head tilted up watching the skies as if it was the first time he was truly seeing it. Judging from what you have heard of the Spartan program, it was very likely the truth.

"It's beautiful, huh?"

John swiveled around and even standing two steps above him, you were still about a few inches shorter. You gave him a smile. "Hiya."

xxxx

John felt his stomach swoop as if he was doing a barrel roll in the Condor. It was the first time he had seen you since he got back from the Rubble and Madrigal and… he didn't remember you being so beautiful. Everything about you was suddenly so much more captivating to him. When previously he liked the way you smiled, the way the colors you wore made you stand out in a drab crowd, now… now you were positively breathtaking.

Even your name sounded better on his tongue.

"How are you, John?" You asked, stepping down to his side. "You gave us all quite a fright."

He looked down at you and wondered if you were scared of him or for him. "I… was going through some things." He told you truthfully, meeting your eyes. "But I think I'm better now."

His eyes noticed the slight redness creeping up your cheeks and the way you averted your gaze from him. He wondered what it meant. 

Discreetly, he took you in. He had never seen you outside of your lab coat before and he was liking what he was seeing. The simple shirt you had on and the slim-fitting jeans complimented your shape perfectly. The brightly coloured highlights in your hair stood stark contrast again its natural colours and his fingers twitched to touch them.

“John, your heart rate is elevated.” Cortana chimed in his ear. “And your body temperature just rose. Are you…anxious?”

"Are you going somewhere?" He asked you, ignoring the Al.

"Oh, I'm just heading home. In the city."

"Can I walk you?"

"All the way to the city?"

"Yes."

"…Okay,"

xxxx

You didn't know why you immediately agreed, but you did know you felt safe with John. In the limited time you spent with him, he gave you no indication that made you suspect any ill intentions. In fact, all his interactions with you felt truthful, genuine, and it made him all the more endearing to you.

The two of you walked in companiable silence towards the train station. From time to time you would tell him little snippets of your daily journeys to and from work. You’d tell him which coffee stand made the best latte, which bagel stand is your favorite and all the while, John took it all in.

Something was different with him, but it was not a bad different. He seemed unusually curious, and dare you say it, interested in everything around him. It was not something you were aware of about Spartans. As far as you knew, they were unfeeling and stoic, almost robotic. But seeing John, open-faced and wide-eyed in wonder made you rethink what you knew.

Standing across from him in the train, you watched him eye the young couple further down the car. They were cozy with each other, giggling softly at whispered words, totally unaware of the world around them and totally in love. You watched John and wonder if he is capable of love, if he feels the pull to be close to someone.

"John?"

He turned to you. "Hm?"

"It’s rude to stare,” You teased playfully and giggled when the tips of his ears turned bright red. You just made the Master Chief flush. Chuckling, you moved until you were beside him, leaning against the car wall and his arm. “What’s going on, big guy? You seemed… I don’t know, confused, like you’re lost.”

The man beside you sighed. He glanced at the couple once more before turning to you. That’s when he told you about the pellet.

xxxx

He didn’t know why he didn’t even hesitate, but he knew he trusted you. He was trained to have sharp instincts and it hadn’t failed him before. And his instincts about you are good. He felt light with you, lighter now without the pellet. You look at him without any expectations of who he had to be. You look at him like he’s John. Just John.

By the time he finished, the train had arrived at Tchakova Park and you were looking at him like you were seeing him in a brand new light.

“Okay, so you’re saying that you’re experiencing this,” You waved your hand around. “All of this, for the first time?”

He raised an eyebrow at you and you laughed.

“Oh my God! Then, you need to see this!”

Without warning, you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a well-lit park across the street.

The warmth of your skin against his calloused palms were jarring to him, and John felt his breath catch in the cold air. Still, he let himself be pulled by you. The closer you got to the park, the more aware he was of the lilting sounds traveling from the center of it.

As you slowed to a walk, you grinned up to him, navigating through the throng of people until you reached an arena-like stage of some sort. And in the middle of it, were two musicians putting in a show.

He froze as he watched them, as the music washed over him. It was beautiful, haunting and it filled him up with foreign feelings. He glanced at you beside him and saw that you had your eyes closed, head tilted slightly upwards as the last drizzle of the night’s rain fell on your face.

Cortana’s inquiring voice was soft in his ear. "Is this why you’ve removed your pellet? So you could hear things differently?"

Maybe. He thought. Maybe just wanted to hear it the way you do.

xxxx

You felt his gaze on you like flames dancing on your skin, but you did your best to shrug it off as you opened one eye to catch him. Ignoring the heat in your cheeks, you gave him a teasing smile.

“John, you’re staring again.”

He blinked and quickly turned. “Sorry.”

You shook your head, endeared at this new person before your eyes. Here was a man, trained and honed to be one of the most effective soldiers in the galaxy, and he couldn’t stop staring at you in wonder.

“You should be listening.” You chided lightly. “Here,” Climbing onto one of the seats behind him, you asked if it’s okay to touch him. At his nod, you guided him to face the show by his shoulders. Then, slowly, you placed your hands over his eyes. Leaning over, you whispered in his ear. “Breathe. Listen.”

He stiffened for a second at your words, but relaxed gradually. You knew exactly you had gotten him where you wanted him when he sighed and his straight shoulders slumped for the first time, probably ever.

When the set ended, you gently released him from your hold, letting him blink off the onslaught of bright lights. You were smiling so wide when you caught the dazed look on his face.

He turned to face you.

“Thank you. That was… that was beautiful.”

There was no hiding the blush that rose up your face at his declaration, but you nodded. “I’m glad you got to experience it.” You turned to hop off the seat, when his hand caught yours, stopping you.

Seemingly surprised at his own actions, John faltered.

“No. It’s okay. You can touch me.” You assured him. He had trusted you and you want to repay it in kind.

Nodding, he stared at your hand in his, engulfed completely. His thumb rubbed back and forth, back and forth over your skin, the action almost hypnotizing.

You didn’t want to rush him, knowing how overwhelming new sensations can be.

He looked up to you, something you knew he’d never had to do before. His eyes scanned your face before his hand left yours.

The feel of his touch skittering over your cheek almost made you gasp, but you held his gaze. There was a question there, something he wanted answered.

“Can I kiss you?”

Deep down, you knew that that was the question, but it still floored you that he’d asked. Biting your lips, you nodded.

He leaned in slow, halting and hesitant. His hand cupped your face oh so gently, as if any more force would break you. Never in your life someone handled you so delicately.

When your lips met, your eyes immediately closed as tingles shot straight to your toes. Your hands came up to his face, fingers lightly scratching the stubble there. It was sweet and somehow innocent for a man of John’s stature and reputation.

When you part, you registered that the world was still revolving, not halted like you felt it did. Catching yourself before anything embarrassing happened, you blinked at him.

“Was that your first kiss?” You whispered, soft, secretive.

John licked his lips. “Yes. Sorry, I-“

“No. No.” You cut him off, smiling. You took his hand that was still resting at your cheek with both of yours, sharing warmth. “I’m honored, John.”

It was by no means the best kiss you’ve ever had. But you didn’t care because at that moment, for what seemed to be the first time in a long long time, you were given another honor. The honor of seeing the Master Chief smile.

FIN

Tagging: @redpool @weirdodreamergirl @violinchick @ageless-aislynn @lialacleaf

I'm not sure if I missed anyone. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the comments, so I can keep track. Also if you wanna be taken off. :)

[ryosmne]

Three brats??

Dad!Sukuna x f!reader

So this is basically a comfort fic, featuring dad! Sukuna because the brainrot was too much. Ok so, the reader and Sukuna have a son together, yes their son is Yuuji, I know this is usually the single father Sukuna trope, but I wanted to give it a go, feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for brainrotting with me @likeab-o-s-s cause this is the reason this exists. That's all from me enjoy reading.

Warnings: none really, just family, heartwarming fluff.

The air was crisp and fresh, unusually refreshing for the beginning of summer. Parents were already gathered outside the daycare, Yuuji, y/n's and Sukuna's son attended, patiently waiting for their kids to run in their arms again.

Sukuna arrived a couple of minutes before the final bell on his motorcycle, he took off his helmet, leaned back on his bike and waited for the familiar little pink head of hair to come wobling to him.

The three mothers next to him, scooted a bit closer to him to get a better look nothing he's unfamiliar with and no one can blame them, Sukuna is a sight for sore eyes. Leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, extenuating his board shoulders, exposing his tattoo covered skin, v neck white t shirt, allowing his toned chest and even more of his tattoos to show and a simple black pair of pants hugging his muscular thighs in the best of ways.

In the past some of the bolder ones had mustered the courage and asked him if he was a single father since they had never seen his son's mother, but with a laugh Sukuna brushed them off telling them how his lovely wife was a working parent and her schedule just didn't match the daycares. Maybe the very unconventional wedding rings they got weren't the best idea in this situation, even though they were extremely beautiful and unique.

"I really admire the work you put in the little guy" Sukuna's gaze met a woman who attempted to strike a conversation, oblivious to what she had meant by her statement he replied, maybe these three minutes would pass faster talking about normal things and not stressing about work.

"Don't we all put work on our kids?" He spoke calmly with a slight smile that he always wore when talking about Yuuji.

"Yeah, we do, but it still must be hard I can't imagine what you're going through" Sukuna's mind went to the worst scenario. Was Yuuji a trouble maker at school? He is a very well behaved child, both him and y/n made sure to teach him proper manners and how to be polite, that couldn't be it right?

The bell rung, and kids made their way out of the daycare, Yuuji in the blink of an eye was hugging his father's leg, exited to see him after the hours he was gone. In a swift motion Sukuna put Yuuji's little backpack on his own back and scooped the boy up in his arm.

"Yuuji's a pretty good kid, hes never been difficult" Sukuna smilled again resuming in the short conversation with the woman next to him. "Single father's like you don't get the credit they deserve". She spoke again smiling sadly down to the little pink haired boy who seemed too fixated on the earrings his father was wearing.

Sukuna finally understanding what this whole thing was about, chuckled, this had happened before after all, he should've known.

"I'm not a single parent, speaking of that your mom said she has a big surprise for you after dinner" he said directing his attention to his son again, the woman next to him quickly fumbled an apology for missundertanding, to which Sukuna replied to with a simple 'dont worry about it'. He placed Yuuji on his bike, put on both his and his boys helmet and drove off.

Y/n was still stuck at work, thankfully her husband would cook dinner tonight cause overtime was killing both her and her mood, good thing she finally had a day off tomorrow.

Y/n checked her phone to see how close she was to going home only to find a text that Yuuji's teacher had send her that was obviously meant for her husband.

Hello Mr Itadori, this is Mrs Laura from the day care. I was wondering if you wanted to get launch with me after school tomorrow, you can bring little Yuuji too, I'm awaiting your response, have a nice night.

What the hell was that? Well y/n's number was in Yuuji's contact information, she chuckled at the words displayed on her screen but she couldn't really blame the teach, Sukuna was a walking temptation, she knew that first hand, hell she fell head over heels for the dangerous looking guy who hid a heart of gold under his hard exterior, but the teacher could at least check who the number belonged to.

Y/n run her last errands and made sure to pick up Yuuji's surprise before heading home, she even tipped Sukuna off so their son wouldn't know what hit him.

Y/n made her way inside the family house, tossing her keys somewhere on the living room couch.

Yuuji immediately after hearing her car in the driveway came rushing down the stairs, jumping around her like he always did when she came home.

"Mom, mom you're home." The happiness was evident in the boys face, his smile was wide when y/n dropped to his level to pick him up and spin him around

"Yes I am little devil, did you give your father hell like we agreed?" She spoke in the happiest of tones with Yuuji still in her arms. Another set of arms engulfed her frame making her halt on spinning the little boy.

"So you're telling him to be a little brat now huh?" Sukuna's breath tickled the side of her neck and ear as he rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. "Welcome home love" he spoke again giving her jaw a ghost of a kiss.

"Daddy is the food ready" Yuuji spoke from y/n's arms, Sukuna only laughed at his son's appetite, and directed both him and y/n to the kitchen where he had already set everything up.

"Mommy, what is a single dad?" Yuuji asked in the middle of dinner in typical fashion of his, any question he had from something he heard through the day would always come up during dinner.

"Well Yuuji, single fathers are the fathers who raise their kids alone." The young boy seemed to think about his mother's words before speaking again. "So its just a daddy ?" Yuuji asked again with his eyes growing a bit sadder, his mother nodded, and Yuuji's eyes started to water.

"Baby what's wrong?" y/n asked. "Hey buddy what's going on?" Sukuna was growing quite concerned too. Yuuji burst in tears leaving his seat, climbing up his dad and hugging him tightly. Sukuna was rubbing his back to comfort the young boy and y/n's hand was stroking the kids hair in an effort to calm him down. "B-but why did that lady c-call you that, is m-mommy l-leaving?" Everything seemed to click for Sukuna, y/n was still confused but in the calmest sweetest voice said "Yuuji, baby look at me, I'm not going anywhere ok?" And the boy left his father's arms and clung on to her like his life depended on it.

Sukuna cracked a few jokes and lightened Yuuji's mood so he could enjoy the rest of his dinner, which went pretty well, he was his smiling adorable self very soon after his parents reassured him that none of them were ever leaving his side and the boy was now drawing with crayons in the living room. He seemed to have completely forgotten about the surprise his father mentioned when he picked him up.

Y/n and Sukuna were doing the dishes in the kitchen, each one talking about their day, Sukuna explained the awkward conversation he had at the daycare that sparked Yuuji's sadness, y/n took a turn in talking about how her son's teacher, basically asked Sukuna out on a date but messed up and texted her. "How about you set up a date and you show up? I mean it's you she texted right?" Sukuna joked "Babe, that's cruel" y/n chuckled at her husband's mischievous nature.

"So you've got everything ready?" Sukuna asked. "yeah who'll bring him over?"

"You do it I'll keep Yuuji busy."

Sukuna joined Yuuji on the couch. "What are you drawing little brat?" Y/n heard him ask their boy in the usual sweet tone he had with him. She made her way down the basement, where she kept the surprise since she came home. Yuuji was going to love this, Sukuna was too, she knew she was already in love as well.

Y/n climbed the stairs quickly, and snuck up behind her son, who was occupied by his dad, she gently tapped the boys shoulder.

"A PUPPY" Yuuji announced exited making sure his voice was still soft not to scare the eager dog that his mom brought to his arms. Yuuji gently held the puppy that was licking his face as he was in a fit of laughter and excitement. Sukuna was as exited as his son and y/n had a huge smile on her face too. Their son had begged and begged for a dog ever since his best friend, Megumi got a black German shepherd puppy. Of course y/n and Sukuna wanted to comply to Yuuji's request right away, but they took time to teach little Yuuji everything there was about the responsibility of owning a dog. They took him to dog cafes and shelters, so he would be the perfect little dog owner, they taught him patience and responsibility beforehand. Sukuna visited the local shelter and decided with y/n on a white Shepard puppy that Yuuji always pointed out in your visits because 'he looks like Megumi's puppy they can be friends like we are' who can say no to that little adorable devil?

The puppy momentarily left Yuuji's arms to lick Sukuna's face. "Now we've got two little brats and a big one in our house." He laughed, enjoying the moment.

Y/n was admiring her son and husband as well as the newest member of the family with a smile plastered wide on her face, life was indeed beautiful.

The next day, both Sukuna and y/n were waiting for Yuuji to finish school, since y/n had the day off. Sukuna had his arm protectively around her because this time, others were staring at what was his, but he was proud to show her off to everyone, even in a place as mundane as his son's daycare.

[omgreally]

Hi there!

Could I please make a little request for Din?

"I didn't know where else to go"

Thank you, hope you're doing ok today! ❤

Hey lovely! First off, I am SO SORRY this took so long. I know it's been months and I have nothing but terrible excuses. Hopefully this makes up for it at least a little?

Shelter M, Din Djarin/Smuggler F!Reader, 2.1k words Warnings: Angst, drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, swearing, Helmetless!Din, lil bit of making out, brief almost-but-not-quite questionable consent, unresolved sexual tension (but who knows, maybe I'll do a Part II?) Summary: Mando has nothing left, nowhere to go. Except to you.

He stands on your doorstep, a soaking wet mass of metal and muscle. The rain falls in rolling sheets, sliding through his hair, down the back of his neck, underneath his cloak and in shining rivulets over his Beskar breastplate.

Without the helm, the Mandalorian looks...smaller, somehow, deflated, but maybe that’s just the defeated look lurking in the dark space behind his eyes.

He looks drained. Empty.

It’s him, though - nobody can fake pure Beskar armor, much less the set he wears. It’s mirror-finish, reflecting your stunned expression in rain-blurred steel.

You open your mouth to say something, but fail to find the words. They all seem so inadequate to address Mando standing in front of you, maskless.

He’s not quite looking at you, his gaze alternating between the ground and somewhere beyond your left ear. You resist the urge to glance behind you, instead taking him in, cataloguing the changes since you last saw him.

It’s been months, but it usually is. His circuitous route of bounty hunting doesn’t intersect with your parts of the Rim very much, which is fine; this way your businesses don’t overlap. As a smuggler, you’re far too likely to be on the wrong end of a tracking fob, so you stay away and so does he.

Once, you were a useful connection. You’re not sure when you crossed the line into ‘ally’, much less ‘friend’. Yet here he is, staring at you through the pouring rain. Helmet off, tucked almost protectively underneath his arm.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he says, dully, and his voice sounds so different yet familiar that you experience a sense of disorientation, of the planet’s surface tilting beneath your feet as you re-orient yourself to this strange new reality where the Mandalorian comes to you for help.

Once, you would have asked for credits first. Now, all you say as you recover from your shock is, “Are you all right?” He shakes his head mutely as you step back and allow him access into your planetside flat.

It’s small, so small that his arm brushes you as he steps over the threshold. You resist the odd urge to put a hand on his shoulder; you’ve never had to comfort him before, save for buying him a round at some space dive or other after a job gone bad. This is something different. This is something else entirely.

You don’t ask what happened. You doubt he’ll give you a straight answer anyway. And you don’t ask about the helmet. He takes a seat at the kitchenette counter and sets it down on the counter in front of him. The black, empty visor stares at you silently as you fetch a bottle of something cheap and strong and hand it to him, knowing he won’t need a glass.

Mando uncaps it and takes a long drag without a word. He makes a face - so strange to see the expressions that are usually hidden by the mask of the helmet - and suppresses a cough as he hands the bottle back to you. You shake your head and set it down next to the Beskar headpiece.

You’re not known for your empathy, and neither is he, so you settle on practicality which you know he appreciates. “Are you injured?” you ask, businesslike as you examine his face a little closer. There’s the bloom of a bruise on one temple, underneath the damp plaster of his dark hair.

“Not permanently,” he says, that trace of dry sardonicism that you usually find irresistibly hilarious now making you frown. “I’m fine,” he adds gruffly as he reads your expression. You huff, crossing your arms, but he says nothing more. Just picks up the bottle again and swigs with an audible “Ahh,” from his throat.

“Why are you here?” you ask, at last, after watching him drink for a minute in silence. Mando looks at you, at your eyes, and holds your gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment before he finally answers.

“I lost him.”

“The kid?” It feels like you’ve been hit, the air punched from your lungs. You assumed he was back on the Crest, asleep, not - gone.

You had only met the little gremlin twice, once when Mando needed fuel and ammo on the cheap, another for a place to lay low for a day or two. The weird green creature...grew on you, like a very cute fungus. His nonsensical babbling, insatiable appetite, and obvious love for the Mandalorian was infectious. You admit it; you were weak. You got fond. And, in turn, fonder of Mando himself.

And now…

“You found his people?” you manage, and it comes out in a croak. You clear your throat and Mando offers you the bottle. You take it, tossing your head back for a deep swig. It burns going down and warms the suddenly-cold cavity inside your chest.

“Yeah,” Mando says. “He’s...he’s safe, now.” The he was never safe with me is unspoken but you hear it anyway. You pass the bottle back to him.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and mean it. “I know...I know it was never a permanent arrangement, but he clearly meant a lot to you.”

“Yeah,” he says, looking down at his helmet before fitting the rim of the bottle to his lips, tossing his head back and draining the rest of its contents in several long gulps.

You watch the shape of his throat bob in his neck above the wet snarl of his cloak and look away quickly. A buzz is building in your veins already and he’s had most of the bottle - you’re surprised he’s still upright.

“You holing up in your junker tonight?” you wonder, after casting around for a change of subject. An expression of pain crosses Mando’s face, a grimace not caused by the alcohol, for just a second before it’s gone.

“The Crest is gone. Melted to slag and dust.” He says it without inflection, and that’s how you know it’s hurting him.

“Fuck,” you summarize elegantly. Mando nods.

“I haven’t got anything left,” he states. “No ship. No credits. No more favors to call in. Nothing.”

You reach out, more out of anger than anything else, and grab his hand, squeezing so tightly that the wet leather squelches. “Stop it,” you say harshly. “You have everything you need. You’re a kriffing Mandalorian.”

He snorts, pulling his hand away - with some effort. “Not anymore.” He stares down at his helmet, and beneath the scruff and fuzz and rain, his lips press together in a tight line.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I broke my Creed,” he shrugs, setting a hand atop the smooth dome of Beskar. “More than once. Didn’t matter at the time. All that mattered...was saving the kid. Making sure he was safe.”

“Mission fucking accomplished, then,” you say, shaking your head. “You pick yourself up. You rebuild. You move on.”

“How can I?” He meets your gaze, and you flinch at the dark intensity of his - something molten, furious there that you’re suddenly afraid of. You haven’t forgotten the promise of violence coiled in his every limb. “I have nothing to go back to. Nowhere to go. That’s why I’m here.” He waves a gloved hand with obvious disgust, and for some reason, that hurts, a sting behind your breastbone like something almost physical.

Mando must see the look on your face, for he wilts like damp lettuce. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine. I get it,” you say brusquely, your words clipped. You take the empty bottle from the counter, your fingers curling around the neck and squeezing, hard. “You come in here, beaten-up, drink my alcohol and drip all over my floors - but I’m the last place you’d go. I get it.”

He rises to his feet, and you forgot how tall he is, how broad. And despite - ormaybe because of - the unfamiliarity of his helmetless appearance, Mando is still intimidating. You don’t shrink back, though; you square your shoulders and your jaw and lift your chin in challenge.

“You’re the last person I’d put in danger,” he says in a low voice, a voice that stirs a strange sensation in the pit of your guts that you haven’t felt in a very, very long time.

“You forget what I do for a living?” you manage, your mouth suddenly dry. You swallow past it, tasting the aftertaste of alcohol and your own misplaced nervousness.

“I’ve been hunted from one end of the galaxy to the other,” he continues in that same husky baritone that makes your knuckles go white. “I wasn’t going to bring that down on you.”

“I appreciate that,” you manage, diplomatically - but he’s not having it, staring you down like his life depends on keeping eye contact. “But I’m a big girl. I can handle things myself.”

He looks you up and down - just once - but with such practiced ease that it makes you wonder how many times he’s done the same thing from beneath the visor. You shiver despite yourself.

“I know,” he says, and then before you can move or react or think, he lunges into your space and kisses you.

If you were shocked by Mando’s sudden appearance, you’re fucking floored by this. You don’t know how to react at first but he proves quickly to be competent enough at this to coax your lips apart with his and get you to kiss him back.

He tastes like a distant hint of blood and smoke and his body is solid as his arm snakes round your waist without you noticing and he pulls you to him. He holds you so that you’ll have to twist away to escape and with the confidence that says he knows you won’t want to. 

And you don’t.

Instead you let the bottle fall and it clatters forgotten to the ground as you grab him by the pauldrons and let him lick into your mouth with the answering surge of your tongue and your hips pressing to his.

Mando kisses you like he needs to, and you realize that he’s half-hard already, impatiently nudging a knee between your thighs and pressing you to the wall. You break from his mouth to breathe and wonder if he’s ever had anything but this - a wild, fervid fumble of hurriedly-parted clothes and tangled limbs.

You don’t want to be this for him - a receptacle for his despair, his rage. You have too much of your own to deal with. But you can’t deny that you’ve thought about this, imagined something similar to this very scenario - but you never counted on the weight of emotion that comes with it.

“Stop, Mando,” you say as he sucks bruises into your neck, the edges of his teeth making your breath catch on nothing. He goes still, but his hands are tight on your hips, holding you to him. You can feel his breath, heavy and warm in your ear.

“Not like this,” you tell him. “You can stay, but we’re not doing this. Not like this.”

At first you think he’s not going to let you go, and the thrill that passes through you from the thought is unconscionable. But then his grip loosens and his leg withdraws and he steps back, out of your space. You rub your face with hands you can’t admit are shaking before finally looking up at him.

He looks wrecked. Broken. Staring at the ground, damp hair hanging over his forehead, and you catch the trembling twitch of his bottom lip even as he ducks his head to try to hide it.

“You can take my bunk,” you tell him. “We’ll talk in the morning. Okay?”

For a second you think he’s going to argue, or just...walk out. Relief blooms in you as he nods. He turns without a word to retrieve his helmet before he retreats down the hall.

You watch him go, and the slump to his shoulders breaks your heart. But he’s staying, and that’s something.

You never thought you’d have a broken Mandalorian sleeping in your bunk. 

And you’re not sure if you regret the fact that you’re not there next to him.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

My Maribat Betrothal AU: Take Two

Okay so people like that post that is more of a train wreck produced by my sleep-deprived brain. I expanded on it and added some changes. Fair warning: Most of my ML and DC knowledge came from Maribat fics, a few episodes and the DCU movies like son of Batman. I have Mari's pov and background stuff written and it needs some editing. Anyways, enjoy <3

It is not a continuation but: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0

[Masterlist]

(Part 2)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

PART 1

Damian groaned.

He was not having a good day.

First, Father decided to pair him with Todd, TODD of all people, for patrol.

Second, while doing a stake-out for the warehouse near the docks which might be used as storage for criminal activity and enduring Red Hood's annoying taunts, they both were knocked out by tranquilizers and his mother's face was the last thing he had remembered seeing.

"Don't worry, little one. You are just fulfilling your duties as heir to the Demon's Head. Then, all will be perfect." She had said, just before he fully lost consciousness.

Third, he woke up to being chained up with a major headache. Taking a bearing of his surroundings, the room he was imprisoned in had two exits, an iron door and a window that had the view of his childhood home. He was dressed in wedding ensembles of the League of Shadows. Red Hood was chained up next to him as well but unlike him, still had his suit and helmet on. Glancing to the other side, he saw a raven-haired girl, chained up and dressed in the black and gold robes of a bride. She had also retained consciousness and was staring at him.

Bluebell eyes met his piercing green.

His betrothal was petite with Asian features. She had freckles dotting her button nose and rosy cheeks.

She is fragile and will break easily, he thought. Why did his mother want him to marry such a weakling?

"Savez-vous où nous sommes? (Do you know where we are?)" Her voice was sweet and trembling with fear. Her eyes were wide and seemed filled with innocence yet carrying great sadness. She was an Angel, an ordinary girl, not fit for this harsh and unforgiving world she was forcefully going to get married to.

She opened her mouth to ask another question and suddenly, she went limp, appearing to be unconscious. Damian furrowed his brows in confusion. Why did she-

A moment later, he heard footsteps approaching and the iron door opened to reveal his mother.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jason woke up to the sight of the Bitch Talia and Demon Spawn, face to face, glaring at each other.

Talia broke the tense silence.

"Damian, I hope you know what you should do."

"To be forcefully married to that little girl. She is no one special. Why am I getting married to her?"

Married? The Demon Spawn is getting married?!

Jason saw through his helmeted vision, a girl about Damian's age, chained up like them but not yet awake. He raised his hand and saw the shackles around his wrists. The chains were connected to the wall. He experimentally yanked the chains, drawing Talia’s attention.

“Well, Jason, you are awake. You can be the best man for the wedding.”

“No. I don’t know what game you are playing but you better release us. B is gonna find us and you will pay. Let the girl go. She is innocent in all of this.” Jason said vehemently.

"Ladybug may not seem like it but she possesses great power that my father converted for centuries. Speaking of, she should be awake by now."

Talia stood up and grabbed Ladybug’s(?) hair and yanked so that her eyes met the girl's. The girl, who unfortunately was going to be the Demon Spawn's bride, lets out a cry and starts to tear up. Jason felt anger at how she was being treated, seeing the girl as a little sister already.

"Tch, See, she is more pathetic than I thought. She is not powerful." Demon Spawn growled out. The girl starts babbling in French. From the little French Jason knows, she was begging for mercy.

“Like I thought, weak. She is not deserving of the title of my wife.” Damian spat out.

"Appearance can be deceiving. Despite her demeanor, she is the current wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and the Current Guardian. The old Guardian, the old fool had promised her in exchange for his protection." Talia countered, letting go of the girl.

Miraculous? Guardian? What the hell?

"That doesn't mean I want to marry her. She is not worthy of an Al Ghul or a Wayne. Look at her, crying at the slightest feeling of pain."

The mother and son begin to bicker. Damian refusing to marry and Talia trying to change his mind.

“Yes, both have to be willing to be married but the curse placed on both of you will ensure that you will agree.”

The dark haired girl had stopped crying and started whispering in a strange language when the fight started, fiddling with the silver ring she wore. Jason saw a terrifying smile crossed the face of the girl across him that chilled him to the bones. Later, a black blur came out of her robes and went through the door. He wondered if he imagined that before he was a determined glint in her eyes.

He blinked.

Talia was choking on the chains that were previously chained to the wall and were now around her neck. Fortunately for them, Talia had closed the door after her entrance and the guards most likely to be stationed outside didn’t storm into the cell. The girl whispered something in Talia's ear, making the woman's eyes widen with what could be fear.

The experienced assassin struggled to get free and gain an upper hand on the girl but was unsuccessful, passing out from the lack of oxygen and strangely strong grip of the small girl.

What happened next was surprising. She breathed hard on her shackles which instantly disintegrated into flakes of rust.

Holy Shit! Demon Spawn's girl is magic. Jason knows his mouth was hanging open under his helmet at that realization. Damian seems to be in the same state.

Talia didn't have the keys to the locks. Being crafty like that. Bitch

"Call me Lady." she said in lightly accented English as she summoned black orbs at the tip of her hands. “Stay still.”

She then proceeds to place her hands on Jason’s shackles, turning them into nothing more than specks.

"I am Red Hood." said Jason, rubbing his wrists.

"The little shit here," as he kicked Damian's leg, " is-"

"Damian Al Ghul" she said the last name with venom. She moved on to Damian's bonds. "Son of that bitch over there, grandson of Ra's, demon heir, blah blah blah. Hold still, mon mignon. I am sure you don't want to lose a hand."

Damian stopped moving at that, due to the pet name or fear Jason couldn’t tell but by the red at the tips of his ear, it could be the former. And she used her powers to free him.

Lady somehow managed to use what remained of the chains to hog tie Talia up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How do we get out?” Damian asked, inspecting the blade that he flinched from his mother.

“Hey, kit.” A nasally voice called out. “I checked out the place we are in. Like you asked. The way to the Throne room is heavily guarded and they seem to think old Ra’s the target. The Pits are guarded too but they are nothing you can’t handle.”

“What is that?” Jason shrieked.

“Thanks, Plagg, you will get that camembert danish when we get back. This is a kwami, a god of sorts and his thing is destruction so I wouldn’t insult him if I were you. He likes to go by Plagg”, answered Lady, which doesn’t clear up Jason’s confusion.

“So, Pigtails, what’s the plan?” The floating, black cat-shaped god(?) asked.

“I was thinking of destroying the Pits to give Al Ghul a middle finger and call Maman to use the Horse to get home.”

“We need Tikki to get rid of it..”

“I will just tell Maman to bring the earrings.”

Damian snorted, “That sounds like a foolish plan. You are insane and not strong enough to take on the League alone, despite having a ‘god’ of destruction at your side. This Tikki or magic earrings will destroy the Pits, many have tried. And sorry to disappoint but no horse can make it up the mountainside of Nanda Parbat.”

“Have to agree with Demon Spawn here and I rarely do that. Your plan sounds insane, Pixie. You are just one girl. Let us help, we know the League better than you. We can come up with a better one.” Jason was worried for the girl, she was crazy if she thought her plan would work.

Lady smirked, “It is a perfectly sound plan. I know what I am talking about. Despite the weak girl act, I am no Damsel in distress. After this is all over, we will split our ways and hopefully, never see each other again.”

“We can’t separate. My mother said there is a curse that will ‘make us fall in love.’” Damian said, using air quotes. “You need to come with us so we can get someone to break it.”

“Fine. But I need to do something before I am coming with you. Plagg, Claws out.”

Bright green light flashed around her and she was now dressed in a black bodysuit with green linings. It was armoured at the chest, knees and elbows. (Add whatever details you want, I can’t do it. Jacket, designs, use your imagination) Her gloves were claws-like, reminding them of Selina and there was a belt carrying some vials, pouches and throwing stars. Her hair was now longer and braided and seemed to move on its own. Cat ears were attached to her head. Her eyes were changed so the sclera were the same shade of blue as her iries and the pupils were slitted like a cat. A black domino mask framed her face. Two ten-inch daggers appeared out of thin air in her hands.

The transformed Lady did the inhuman feat of kicking the door open. The assassins stationed outside were immediately knocked out by Lady.

“Well, are you coming or not?” She called out, before running down the corridor. Jason patted his shocked brother’s shoulder, “You doing okay there, demon spawn?”

“Tch, Let’s go, Todd.” Damian replied, trying to get rid of that funny feeling in his chest.

[dont-be-so-shy]

who is this man?

notes: a damijon oneshot. basically just a thousand words of confusion and such. 

It started with a sweater.

Jon wore it to school one day—a nearly perfectly-fitted beige cashmere sweater—and nearly got away with it; had it not been for Hailey Williams, he would have.

That’s when they noticed. Jon owned approximately four colors: black, blue, red, and white. He was a farm boy, he wore flannels, T-shirts, and jeans—not cashmere, clearly expensive, tailored-especially-for-him sweaters.

When she asked, he just smiled (close-lipped and small, but genuine), and declared happily, “Don’t you like it? Dami got it tailored the other day! He likes clothes better when they fit me and him… He’s tiny.” He added thoughtfully at the end, like he’d just realized this.

(He had. For all his brothers teased him about being short, Dami had a way of filling a room with just himself, had something larger-than-life about him, something that demanded Jon’s—everyone’s—attention.)

Then he turned, like he hadn’t just caused dozens of questions to erupt in their mind and practically skipped off to Phys Ed.

The next few weeks didn’t help any either.

The week after The Sweater Incident, Jon came to school in a thick, light green beanie, which, according to him, “Dami doesn’t like it much but he always likes things after I wear them.”

Later, Nate, one of their friends, said to Marissa, “Maybe they’re dating?” Marissa denied this vehemently. She’d know if Jon were gay.

Two days later, Jon showed up in sharp black eyeliner drawn in perfectly symmetrical cat-eyes. People stared. Hailey complimented him and asked him to teach her.

(“Can you teach me how to do that eyeliner? ‘Cause that’s… wow.” “Aw, thanks Hailey, but Dami did this, not me. He says it’s a artistic something or other.”)

“Maybe they are boyfriends.” Marissa said thoughtfully.

On Wednesday two weeks later, Jon was dropped off and picked up from school by his brother Conner, who drove a red motorcycle. Conner had a black leather jacket and combat boots, unlike Jon, who wore dorky super-hero T-shirts and zip-up hoodies. They both rode without helmets. Hailey Williams didn’t shut up about it for two days.

When he finally came back to school on Monday, he had a bruise blooming across his cheekbone and two black circular studs in his ears.

Marissa kind of wondered how a nerdy boy with glasses could look so badass.

Eight days later, he showed up wearing a gold necklace with three charms hanging from it: a rhombus/diamond-like shape, some type of bird, and a circle. When Nate asked, he just blushed and said it’s a meaningful gift.

(He doesn’t mention how, when he puts on his new black domino mask, its charms change to Superman’s S, a bat, and the rune that made the transformation possible. Best gift ever.)

The week after, he showed up in black slacks and dress shoes for his flute part in the school’s band concert. He didn’t look happy when they received a standing ovation from the parents and other students, but did look a little more excited after his mom showed him the video she took.

(The next day, she’d idly read in the paper about how Superboy the second changed his suit to a more red-orientated outfit and black domino mask.)

Jon showed up with a few bracelets over the next few weeks after the concert. Nate and Marissa exchanged glances over his shoulder and agreed to record all of them.

At first, it’s just a black string wrapped around his wrist with black, red, green, and gold beads on it. Then a different type of string bracelet—like Marissa’s dad wore, the type you burn on—is added. Red, yellow, green, and black. The last two are a thin gold bracelet and an expensive silver Rolex watch.

He wore them all very single day.

(She heard from the paper that Robin was spotted in their town. She doesn’t think much of it.)

Jon got a new phone for Christmas, the newest of Wayne Enterprises’ sleek models that she couldn’t ever hope to afford.

(“It’s just a gift,” he’d said, smiling confusedly at their almost-interrogation. “Dami got it for me.”

He didn’t seem to notice the sound of his new and expensive silver and gold rings clanking together while he texted… someone.)

The day after he’d raised his hand in class and answered all the questions on the blackboard correctly. “Dami tutored me in math.” He’d crowed proudly, smiling brightly. “He just explains it so well.”

Hailey asked him who painted his nails—a pretty, iridescent emerald green—so professionally, and he’d answered it with the “Dami” that passed as an answer for every other question directed at him these days.

Over the next few weeks it seemed like he was the only one who didn’t notice how primly he spoke.

(@DamianWayne posted a rare picture of himself, eyebrows raised in dry amusement as a boy with his face hidden in Damian Wayne’s neck and arms around his waist clung onto him, on Instagram, captioned He literally saw me four days ago. Make him stop. No one is linked in the picture.

Jon doesn’t have social media, she’d thought, then wondered why.)

A few more pictures were posted, strangely not of Titus nor Alfred the Cat, but of a boy whose face was always hidden: being hugged by the waist, someone pressing a kiss to his forehead, someone handing him a plate of pancakes with blueberries on top, a picture of coffees in a car seat, two skateboards, chalk drawings on a driveway, Polaroids on a wall, the metro, a flute she was pretty sure he didn’t play, two people making shadow puppets, two pigeons standing on a wooden railing, beaks meeting, someone playing piano, someone pulling someone else along on a skateboard, two boyish figures underwater, a boy standing waist-deep in a lake, wetting his hair, a black electric guitar between jean-clad legs, a blue poster reading ‘ALIENS EXIST’.

Tabloids came out, claimed he was in love, and the only response was a picture of a poem scrawled on a pink post-it note:

I haven’t been able to paint your eyes Just right since I met you in real life, But my fingers cramp from how much I’ve sketched the lines of your face, You don’t make my heart skip Since you’re the reason it’s steady.

Jon was caught texting by a teacher but she after she read the contents of the last text aloud, she smiled.

“I really saw you for the first time when You’d returned a stack of fairy tales I used to read those in dark corners Afraid of what others would think, or do But you looked me in the eyes I wished I could be so brave.”

(What Marissa didn’t know—would never know—was that this had been an ongoing game of poetry and heartfelt words Jon was losing.)

Jon had flushed and stuttered when Hailey accused him of being a romantic and a poet but decidedly ignored the stares when he joined the math club at lunch.

It’s April when the questions get answered.

It’s the local pride celebration that happens first and Jon showed up with the gay flag on one of his cheeks and the demisexual flag on the other.

(She ignored the reports of Damian Wayne walking the mall with his brother Tim, dressed perfectly but with the polysexual and demisexual flags painted on his cheeks. Tim one-upped him by posting a picture of him kissing a green-haired boy on Instagram.)

A week later, a sleek green sports car pulled up outside the school and waited for ten minutes until the last bell of the day rung. By the time students had started spilling out of the building, there was a boy in sunglasses leaning against the car, clearly waiting for somebody. Whoever it was had inky black hair, smooth skin, and a familiar beanie on his head.

He’d checked his gold Rolex watch impatiently and that’s when it’d clicked that that was Damian Wayne. In Kansas. Outside her school.

Jon walked out, flanked by Nate and Hailey, took in the sight of Damian Wayne standing by his sports car, and squealed and threw himself forward.

In an impressive show of strength, Damian Wayne caught and hugged Jon back, brushed his hair back from his forehead, and moved his sunglasses from his face to his pocket.

He’d said something that made Jon blush and then passed his lips over Jon’s in a chaste show of affection. He’d ignored the staring students and climbed the school’s stone steps, unhurried, legs bending and flexing under his black ripped jeans.

“You must be Jonathan’s friends,” he’d said poshly, “I’m Damian Wayne, Jon’s boyfriend.”

Marissa stared. Nate stared. Hailey stared. The English teacher with her big brown purse stared.

Damian freaking Wayne sighed at the cricket silence and returned to his car, where he’d pulled out a red leather jacket and handed it to Jon. “Here. You forgot this at the mansion, beloved.”

Jon beamed and laughed excitedly, pressed a kiss to Damian Wayne’s upturned lips. “Thanks, Dami!”

Well, that answered that question.

Damian Wayne pulled open the door to his car and, in doing so, revealed the bare skin of his wrist and four thread bracelets in red, blue, white, and black. He slid into the car after Jon.

That night, @DamianWayne posted two pictures. One of him kissing someone who was clearly Jon and one of him and Jon tangled on a couch, sleeping, taken by someone else. The photos are tagged with @callmejon, a new account, and when she got onto his account, it was filled with sketches of his own face obviously made by Damian, a room filled with paintings, Damian dressed as Count Dracula and Jon dressed as a werewolf on Halloween, a table covered in sushi with the caption: Why tf is this so expensive? It’s just raw fish?, a drawing of a bloodshot eye, signed DW, a few drawings of shadow people, a drawing of hands about to meet, singing with lightning and fire, a picture of a sign reading ‘Welcome to Gotham’, and a smiling picture of Superman floating over a two-story building in Metropolis.

The next day’s cover of the paper is boasting a picture of Damian Wayne and Jon at an arcade, playing air hockey. There’s Jon, in his red leather jacket, earrings, nail polish, and Damian Wayne’s beanie, bright grin situated on his face, and there’s Damian Wayne, wearing the same thin hoodie and ripped jeans, hair styled and combat boots on, blush high on his cheekbones, and the corner of his mouth twitched up. The sleeves of his tunic-hoodie are rolled up, thread bracelets in Jon’s colors on full display, and Jon had tiny green jewels dangling from small silver hoop earrings. He looked happy. Marissa smiled and put the paper down.

(Two days later, the cover of the paper was exclaiming that Robin and Superboy II were caught kissing on a rooftop. She ignored it.)

Jon showed up to school on Monday in his red leather jacket with a broad smile and exhilarated eyes.

[commanderfoxdeservesbetter]

I love you

Awwww thank you!! I love you too 😭 just for that, here’s a snippet of what I’ve been working on

Fox remembers the first time people overlooked him.

He wasn’t as big as his brother Wolffe or as quick as his Vod Cody; he always had to work harder to ensure he stayed within the same pace with his batchmates.

He didn’t mind it; he knew his strengths but most importantly, he knew his weaknesses and he guarded them as tightly as a dragon would guard its hoard.

Late nights were spent exercising and practicing the same moves they were taught in training, over and over and over again. He learned how to thrive on as little as 4 hours of sleep, learning how to relax his body in the fastest way to fall asleep and honing the skill to wake up just as fast.

He thought maybe 17 knew about his endeavors but the man barely acknowledged the progress Fox himself sees. He has learned that maybe 17 can be fooled just as easily as the others and he doesn’t know if he was disappointed in that discovery or if it was an opportunity.

There were times during training that he would injure himself, short and scrawny and not yet built up to the clone he is now. He has learned how to roll with the punches and use his injuries to his advantage. It was probably his most useful skill he’s ever taught himself, as Coruscant very rarely allows time to heal. He is almost always constantly having to work with the injuries obtained.

It’s okay though. He practiced his whole cadet hood for this. His brothers would never survive this and Fox knows he was chosen for a reason.

It doesn’t make it easier to put into effect the mask he has perfected ever since he was 4 years old. After all, how could he have ever learned anything if anyone knew what he was up to. His smiles are rare now, his mask of indifference a permanent look on his face. He wonders if his Vod knows or even cares about his lack of emotions.

Though with the fact that they’re shooting him as he tries to protect the Chancellor (more like ordered if his lack of control is anything to take into account), he’s given his answer.

He ducks under the bolts that would have hit his helmet and Fox notices not one blaster is put on stun. He wonders for a brief second if they are still mad about Fives. Or maybe it was never Fives. Maybe it was how they always thought. He was just a liability to them, always holding them back.

He wasn’t built like they were. He was defective and had to pretend his whole cadet hood that he wasn’t.

The act is finally falling apart and he hears a loud scream over the voices in his head, pain shooting up his back.

He can barely take care to notice the Jedi fighting his master, not when he can’t walk.

Sharp burning runs up his back and Fox has to grit his teeth as he falls to his knees. How can he work with this injury when there are licks of fire running up his spine?

He closes his eyes behind his helmet, the voices in his head turning static as he tries to pulls in a breath. Two. Inhale. Exhale. He just needs to breathe. Breathe through the pain.

His hands smacks against the floor, muscles straining in his arms to hold him up. His gun is disposed of the minute he dropped and all he can think is a mantra of weak, weak, weak.

If this was how dying feels like, maybe he deserved the punishment of agony. If Thorn can handle over six bolts to the chest before finally kicking it, then Fox can handle the lightsaber cut over his back.

Fox wonders if he’ll die just like Thorn did, helmet on and all alone.

It would be so fitting.

He can’t remember the last time he has ever not felt alone among his batchmates.

Will he get a funeral? Does he deserve one? Will he just be left on the floor like how Thorn was left on that hanger bay?

Fox’s arms fail him, and he drops the rest of the way to the floor, helmet clanking against the hard floor.

He breathes, head aching as he stares out at the fight. Darth Sidious opens his mouth and Fox’s ears are ringing too much for him to hear much of what is said. He sees General Yoda jump, bouncing off of General Windu in coordination as they enact their final act. Windu covers the lightning directed their way while Yoda deflects the blows Sidious gives with his crimson sabers. He spots Anakin swinging and there’s nothing left but a head of his master.

His head fuzzes in and out, darkness swimming against his vision. He wonders why he is trying so hard to stay awake amongst the victory the Jedi and Vod share. There is no screams, just sobering silence and Fox doesn’t want to die surrounded by the very silence that trapped him his whole life.

He tries to open his mouth but it’s like his teeth are sewn shut together. He can’t separate them, just clenching them down harder.

He doesn’t want to die alone.

Please don’t let him die alone.

He watches bleakly as his batchmates help their Jedi out of the room, Rex directing Anakin out with an arm thrown over his shoulder. He watches Windu discuss something with Ponds before a fire is started in the same place of the corpse of the Sith Lord. They walk out just as the fire spreads from the body to the curtains.

None of them look back.

Fox breathes in and out, against stretching across his back. His fingers twitch, nails digging into the hard floor, hoping to gain a better grip.

If he’s lucky, maybe he can drag himself out of the room before it burns down with him in it.

Fox has never been more grateful for his helmet as smoke begin to fill the room. Pain spikes with every move of his forearms, his shoulders straining as each action causes the burn from shifting on his back, making it almost unbearable to handle.

Almost.

Fox doesn’t want to die here. He reaches the door, gripping some furniture a giant the door to lift himself to pull on the handle.

It doesn’t open.

He tugs, twisting the handle.

It doesn’t budge.

Fox swallows, fear and adrenaline beginning to creep into his system. He’s trapped in a burning room and Fox is not strong enough to break down this door. Not with this wound.

Fox doesn’t even try, instead dropping to his knees and crawling towards the window. Maybe he can break that open and…

And…

What are his chances of surviving he jumps out??

Fox can barely think over the agony in his back and for once, he wishes he had the guts to just quit. To let his body handle to desire of what his kind wishes for.

But he doesn’t want to die here.

The smoke is hard to see past and he can feel his fingers burning against the floor as ashes cover the room. He hears a crashing and knows without looking over that a part of the ceiling has just dropped down.

He bangs on the window once, blood smearing the glass. Since when did he cut his hand?

Fox stares for a moment at his hand, littered in small cuts. He moves his gaze to the window. The night sky greets him, vehicles buzzing past him in the distance. Can anyone see him?

He can feel the heat rising in the room, flames licking near his feet. He unsheathes the knife in his vambrace and slams the handle down against the window.

Nothing. He goes to stand, leaning against the window for support. He slams the knife again, higher than the spot he was in. A little crack form.

The helmet tries to filter the smoke but there’s less oxygen to inhale. Time is running out and fast.

He slams it against that cracked spot, over and over again, and he can feel the hair on his neck rise. He sheathes the knife and takes a couple steps back.

His back is burning worse than it ever was, and he can feel his boots melt as the flames overtake it. He drops his burning Kama and breathes.

One.

Two.

Runs as much as he can and pushes against the glass.

It breaks.

The air rushing in gives fuel to the fire and Fox is pushed out by the explosion that overtakes the room.

He is flown out several feet away from the office before his stomach drops, the sky rushing past him.

He falls.

Fox looks at the sky as air rushes around him. The sky which is so polluted you can barely see the stars and yet…yet he can see them as clear as if he was on a Ventilator.

He’s only ever been on a Ventilator once and that was when he was being shipped to Genoisis. It was the only battle he really ever participated in, the rest was spent on Coruscant as is his duty, serving the Chancellor who turned out to be the Sith Lord they were searching for.

It only makes sense that Palpatine was able to get to him due to proximity but Fox…He is only 13. He was naive to believe that his duty ever amounted to anything. He wasn’t stupid but his was played like a fiddle, turned into a fool that even his batchmates saw in him.

He is only 13.

He doesn’t want to die.

The cold wind seeps into his skin, rapidly cooling the burns that he no doubt sports from the room.

If he survives this, his body will more than likely go into shock due to the rapid changes in temperature.

Fox doesn’t know if he wants to survive this.

Has anyone ever survived falling down levels of Coruscant?

How long has he fallen for? How many levels has he passed? When will it-

Like a snap, agony erupts his whole body and Fox remembers no more.

[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO (A) Firefighter Katsuki Bakugo x (O) Reader New Beginnings and Cold Glasses of Water

Word count: 2335

Warning: Mentions of fire. 

Title: ABO (A) Firefighter Katsuki Bakugo x (O) Reader New Beginnings and Cold Glasses of Water

Summary: You move to a new town and things start off a little rough. 

(Gif isn’t mine. Credit to owner)

💥-It all happened so fast. 

💥-You had just moved into your new apartment, you were starting a new life in a new city. You had made a long drive so you only had enough energy to get down your air mattress and things you needed to shower for the night. 

💥-You were so glad you were too tired to move anything into your new apartment because that night your new home ended up in flames. 

💥-One moment you were sleeping peacefully on your stiff air mattress and the next a loud banging rang throughout your apartment. You gasped awake and frighteningly at the door. You let out a small chirp before you heard a males voice reach your ears. 

💥-“This is the Fire Department. Your building is under fire. Please open the door so we can evacuate everyone.” The person yelled. 

💥-You instantly jumped into action. You rushed to the front door and opened it. Your sleepy brain made you forget to check to see if the doorknob was hot before grabbing it. 

💥-Luckily it wasn’t hot.  

💥-The Alpha in front of you both scared and calmed you. His bulky frame was, even more, intimidating with his firefighting gear. You couldn’t see his eyes or much of his face because of his helmet but you just knew he was handsome. 

💥-“Is there anyone else in the apartment?” He asked, leaning over your frame and peering inside. 

💥-“No. Just me.” You assured. 

💥-The smell of smoke finally registered and you were quick to cough. The fireman didn’t ask before he tossed you over his shoulder and led you expertly out of the building. 

💥-You heard him radio his team a few times, making sure to know what was going on inside the building. Apparently the top levels were the most affected. Your apartment was near the middle section.

💥-As soon as you were thrown over his shoulder you were plopped onto the pavement in front of the building. Your savior turned around and walked right back into the burning building. 

💥-Your eyes caught the bold letters of “chief” on the back of his tanned coat before he was out of your view. 

💥-Not knowing where to go or what to do you went to your U-haul and stood against it. You kicked yourself for not getting your phone or keys before rushing to the door. 

💥-Fifteen minutes later you were regretting wearing shorts and a loose shirt to bed. It was starting to get chilly even with the building on fire right next to you. Twenty minutes later everyone was out of the building and the fire was put out. 

💥-You let out a sigh of relief. 

💥-Most of the residents were getting picked up by friends and family. You looked enviously at them. A few ambulances were still around so you worked up the courage to go up to one of them. 

💥-You weren’t injured or in need of oxygen so you didn’t want to bother them. When you got to the double doors a man with black hair and a straight smile greeted you. 

💥-He was wrapping up someone’s burn when he turned to greet you. 

💥-“Hello, what can I do for you?” He asked, peering down at your shivering form. 

💥-“I was wondering if I could borrow a phone? I was hoping to call up a shelter to see if they had any bed available.” You explained, nervously playing with the edge of your shorts. 

💥-“You aren’t going to a shelter.” A voice barked at you from behind. 

💥-In an instant, your body was engulfed in warmth, a heavy weight sat on your shoulders. You looked down and noticed the material radiating the soothing warmth was a fireman's jacket. 

💥-By the gruffness of his voice, you guessed the jacket had the letters “chief” on the back. 

💥-You turned to the bulky Alpha. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes connected to his burning scarlet ones. Your Omega purred at his handsome face. 

💥-“Where else am I gonna go?” You questioned, discreetly slipping your arms into the sleeves of his jacket. 

💥-You told yourself it was just because you were cold and not the fact that his jacket gave off his scent cinnamon scent. Nope, nothing at all to do with his scent. 

💥-“You’re coming back to the fire station with us.” He demanded more than stated. 

💥-You blinked, not sure how to react. 

💥-“No, I’m not.” You said, not sounding too sure of yourself. 

💥-“Yes, you are.” He narrowed his eyes. 

💥-“Does your crew know you are picking up a stray?” You huffed, peeved that this Alpha was telling you what to do. 

💥-“Trust me, my crew wouldn’t mind having an Omega’s presence in the fire station.” He claimed, throwing a strong arm around your shoulders and leading you to the firetruck. 

💥-You knew you could have thrown off his arm and went back to the ambulance if you wanted to but a part of you was enthralled with the rough Alpha. You kicked yourself for liking Alphas with no manners. 

***

💥-You sat upfront with the Alpha whose name you found out was Bakugo. The unfamiliar buildings flew by. You eyed all the buttons and flashing lights on the console. 

💥-Feeling a little upset that he got his way you decided to mess with him. 

💥-“Can I ring the horn?” You asked, looking at the bright buttons. 

💥-His ruby eyes slid in your direction before turning back to the road. One hand left the wheel to point out a big red button. 

💥-“Only once.” He grunted, putting his hand back on the wheel. 

💥-Letting out an excited chirp you leaned over and pressed the button. The whine of the horn hurt your ears but the smile on your face didn’t leave your face. The Alpha had a hard time holding back his small grin. 

***

💥-Once at the firehouse Bakugo helped you out of the firetruck and led you to his private bedroom and bathroom. Being the chief had its perks. He gave you a big grey shirt that said, “Fire Dept” on the front and a pair of orange basketball shorts. 

💥-He set your clothes on the bed before walking back over and getting himself a set of clothes. 

💥-“Once you shower you can come down to the dining area and have dinner with us. Don’t make me come back up here and bring you down.” He said, narrowing his eyes before walking out of the room. 

💥-Dumb domineering Alpha. You scoffed. 

💥-Handsome domineering Alpha. Your Omega purred. 

💥-The soot on your skin was starting to get at you so you quickly showered and freshened up. You helped yourself to his hairbrush since you didn’t want to meet everyone with a nest on your head. 

💥-You opted out of putting on your dirty socks. You just realized you were shoe-less this entire time. You spotted a pair of black slides by his bed and slipped them on. 

💥-They dwarfed your feet and made you feel like you were walking in water flippers but they were better than the cold concrete. 

💥-You let your nose follow the scent of food. All of the firefighters were out of their gear and sitting around a big dining room table. You didn’t think you would be able to eat but the site of the food on the table made your mouth water. 

💥-You didn’t have to awkwardly claim an unoccupied chair. The big blonde Alpha pointed to an empty seat right next to him at the head of the table. You padded over to your spot and sat down. 

💥-You felt intimidated by the amount of Alphas in the room so you didn’t raise your eyes to meet theirs quite yet. 

💥-You noticed a lack of commotion and looked around. You tilted your head back when you noticed all eyes were on you. The Alpha closest to was a black-haired muscled woman. 

💥-She offered you a kind smile and nodded to the serving dish of mashed potatoes. “Help yourself.” 

💥-Oh, you forgot some Alphas didn’t touch their food until the Omegas were severed first. You weakly smiled before grabbing the large spoon and serving yourself. 

💥-Once your plate was full of everything that caught your eye, all the Alphas ceremoniously grabbed for the food. Two Alphas, a blonde one and a purple-haired one, shoved each other while trying to get a hold of the bread rolls. 

💥-“Thank you.” You said, looking at the ruby-eyed male who was observing you quietly. 

💥-All you got from him was a grunt in acknowledgment. You supposed he was done with talking for the night. 

💥-“Sorry about your apartment.” The kind Alpha with dark-hair said, patting you on the arm.

💥-You gave her a kind smile, thanking her for her kindness. 

💥-“I noticed your baggy clothes and big shoes. I might have some clothes and shoes that would fit you better.” She informed, wishing she didn’t say anything when she felt a pair of crimson eyes burning into her. 

💥-The blond Alphas narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head. He wouldn’t let you wear other Alphas clothes. Just the thought of it made his Alpha growl and get ready to pounce on anyone that posed a threat.  

💥-She might have been an Alpha herself but the chief was the top Alpha around the station. She instantly backed down, “You know what, I remembered yesterday was laundry day so I might not have anything.” 

💥-“That’s fine, thank you, I appreciate the offer.” The staredown between the two Alphas went unnoticed by you. 

💥-Once you finished your plate you bid everyone farewell and made your way back to the chief’s private room. You noticed a toothbrush on the bed and made use of it. 

💥-You sighed once your tired body rested under the soft sheets of the Alphas bed. The smell of his scent surrounded and comforted you. You didn’t even shut your eyes before a knock sounded on the door. 

💥-“Come in.” You sat up in the bed. 

💥-Bakugo walked into the room with a glass of water, he came over to the bed and set it on the nightstand. 

💥-“Thought you might need it.” He clasped his hands behind his back, trying to keep them from touching you. The urge to do so was strong. His hands had been itching to get you back in his arms ever since he set you down. 

💥-“Thank you, Bakugo.” Your fingers nervously played with the sheet. 

💥-He smelled your uneasiness. 

💥-“What’s wrong, Omega?” He questioned, tensing up at your scared scent. 

💥-“I’m grateful that you invited me to stay the night, but this is just temporary. I’m gonna need to start looking for other places. I was lucky enough to get that apartment. I don’t know I’ll be able to find another one.” You chewed on your lip, worried at the thought of being homeless. 

💥-“I have a house. It’s pretty big. I wouldn’t mind a roommate.” He couldn’t resist, his hand went up to your chin and pulled your lip away from your teeth. 

💥-“I don’t know. Living with an Omega can be difficult.” You said, trying not to nuzzle your head into his hand. 

💥-You Omega was very pleased with the Alpha and his gentle touch.   

💥-“We can cross that bridge when we get to it. If you are really worried about it, you can look for other places while you’re staying with me.” He reassured, glad his other hand was still behind the back, you weren’t able to his that his fingers were crossed. 

💥-He didn’t know if he would be able to let you go after you wiggled your way into his home and undoubtedly his heart. He knew for sure once you made yourself at home in his house, that it would never feel the same without you in it. 

💥-You felt a weight lift off your shoulders. 

💥-“It’s a deal! You make sure to tell me if I do something to upset you.” You smiled, relieved at his offer. 

💥-“I will, Omega. Now, you should get some rest. You had a long night.” He ordered, pushing you down lightly to the bed. 

💥-You snuggled down and looked up at him. “Thank you, Alpha.” 

💥-“No problem, Omega.” 

💥-He walked out of his room, knowing he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon. 

Bonus: 

💥-Three years later. 

💥-You just brushed your teeth and crawled into bed, a hulking figure was already laying in the big bed. You settled down into the sheets and curled into his side. 

💥-You laid there a moment before letting out a huff. 

💥-“I forgot my cup of water.” You whined, getting up to walk to the kitchen. Before your back could leave the mattress your Alpha was already up and out of bed. 

💥-“I’ll get it, Omega. Stay here, you need your rest.” He commanded, gently pushing you back down. 

💥-You nodded, burrowing back down into the nest, your big stomach a small hill under the plush comforter. Your little pup was quiet tonight, they were lulled to sleepy by their father’s deep voice, earlier that night. 

💥-Suki walked in with a big glass of water. Your greedy hands took it from him, the cold water sliding down your throat making you shiver slightly. You felt a harsh jab against your stomach. 

💥-“Oops, someone isn’t a fan of the cold water.” You hummed, softly rubbing your stomach. 

💥-“Settle down, it’s time to sleep, little one.” Suki soothed, resting his large hand on your stomach. 

💥-They stopped kicking instantly. You handed him the glass and snuggled back down again. He was quick to set the cup down and slip behind you. His chest rumbling with a comforting purr. 

💥-You two laid there in sweet silence. 

💥-“I”m glad, I didn’t leave.” You whispered, melting into your Alphas embrace. 

💥-“I am too.” He rumbled, holding you tighter.   

💥-He wasn’t supposed to say it, as a firefighter, but he was glad your building caught on fire.

Lol it would have been a twist if he saw you earlier that day and set your building on fire to get closer to you.

That being said, I finished this yesterday before I got a request asking to make things more GN so while I did edit it to make sure it fits the GN standers I understand that the ending is a fuzzy area. (Please tell me if I missed something in my editing.) 

While male Omegas can get pregnant I understand if my masculine readers are put off by the idea. I hope to make my fics more inclusive from here on out! 💙💙

Please reblog and leave a comment! Reading your sweet comments really motivate me to write!