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depravitycentral · 4 months

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Yandere! Keigo Takami General Profile

Yandere! Keigo Takami x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, mentions of non-con, implied masturbation, possessiveness, lots and lots of guilt, Stockholm Syndrome/you've kind of lost it by the end, mentions of eating/eating healthily, mentions of murder, Dabi makes an appearance and is directly responsible for your kidnapping, insinuation that Keigo's jerked it to some rather icky nasty stuff of yours, non-consensual photography, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 15K (genuinely how)

DARLING PROFILE:

Smart

If Keigo was pressed to describe his type, the very first thing that he would blurt out is intelligent. He wants a woman that can match him in terms of intellect. Someone who can follow his quick-paced jokes, his sarcasm, someone that keeps up with him, really.

He finds it wildly attractive when a woman is confident in her own knowledge, and ideally his darling would be knowledgeable in an area he knows next to nothing about.

He likes hearing them spiel on about something they’re passionate about – and he'll be listening, intently, with a hand under his chin and eyes glossed over because while their words are interesting, watching them is really what’s fully engaging him. There’s something wonderful about the way that they’re able to answer all the questions he prompts them with, never missing a beat and fully dissecting his question before giving their best thoughts back.

It’s just wonderful, and although he’d never divulge any sensitive information to them out of fear for their safety, there’s something euphoric about knowing that if he really wanted to, if he could, he thinks they would understand how he feels.

He thinks they could understand how careful he has to be, how he has to think out his every move and word dozens of times in advance, making sure everything is exactly how it should be.

And really, this helps Keigo feel less lonely – it’s less polarizing and solitary if he knows that his darling could support him, even if he won’t tell them anything.

Just the knowledge makes him giddy, his heart beating faster because it feels so very good to not be alone.

Witty

Similarly to their intelligence, Keigo needs a darling who’s able to dish out what he serves. A witty, silver-tongued darling would have him constantly on his toes, finding that speaking with them is entertaining and leaves him wanting more.

His darling isn’t boring, or a drag to speak to – their stories and commentary leave him on the edge of his seat, growing addicted to their voice and finding himself wanting more more more, eagerly asking all sorts of follow-up questions that he normally wouldn’t bother with.

And really, this is one of the first signs that his feelings for them have ventured beyond friendly – he’s never been this invested in someone before, never wanting to interact with them so badly, never wanting to be around them and hear their voice and watch their lips move to form syllables.

He finds his darling’s sense of humor to perfectly match his own, leaving him winded and often more flustered than he’d care to admit.

They’re just so cute – the knowing little look they send him when they crack a bad pun that leaves him chuckling, the way their face scrunches up when they make an accidentally dirty joke.

It’s endearing, really, and it only makes him fall for them harder, his desperation to see them growing stronger with every passing day because god, they’re just so perfect.

Civilian

While Keigo is capable of developing an obsession with a fellow hero, it’s unlikely.

Part of what draws him to his darling is their innocence – they don’t understand the realities of their society, how violent and horrible the darkest members are, how much crime and unrest fills the city streets right under their nose.

It’s the way his darling is able to be so happy and carefree in the face of such terror that draws Keigo in – they practically radiate positivity, talking about their own mundane life and managing to lull Keigo into a false reality that he, too is simply a civilian.

That he isn’t a double agent with a non-existent sense of self, that he isn’t bursting with stress and anxiety at any given time. It’s a nice reprieve, really, and it��s one that he slowly begins craving. The moments of peace and tranquility addict him, causing him to view his darling as a sort of stress-reliever, someone he can go to when things become too heavy, too dark, too much.

He wants to hear about everything happening in their lives – their crazy neighbors, annoying coworkers, the cat they saw crossing the street, the latest thing broken in their apartment. He wants to know about the mundane things, the things he’s never experienced and never will experience.

His darling is a sort of portal to a totally different world – what he could have had if he hadn’t been born into the family he was, if he hadn’t had inherited his quirk, if he hadn’t have done this or that.

His darling represents possibility, a side of Keigo that he desperately, desperately wishes he could embrace – which is why he slowly begins fantasizing about a future with his darling, always complete with a nice little house, a few children, a pretty ring on their finger, and complete domestic bliss.

It’s a dirty fantasy to him, really, something far off and dreamy, but with every interaction he has with his darling, it only stronger, and he only grows more desperate.

Empathetic

Keigo needs someone who is able to see past the layers of persona he puts on as Hawks and instead see him. Keigo Takami. He needs someone who’s able to listen to his words and comfort him, to see the frightened, abused boy he still is at heart.

The idea of a darling who’s able to understand him on such a deep, raw level leaves him feeling equal parts terrified and relieved, because he’s never really had someone there for him before.

The concept of a companion, of someone to rely on and love and cherish is such a foreign concept to him, and although he finds the idea enticing (having watched more than his fair share of rom-coms and trashy romance movies), Keigo doesn’t believe that he’ll ever get to experience it.

His life is too busy and hectic, and having a woman to hold and love and protect would add too much unnecessary strain. Except once he meets his darling and he feels seen for the first time, things begin changing. No longer does he find himself alone, internally grappling with his real identity and his hero identity, slowly losing himself with all the stress and obligations towards the commission.

No, he’s not alone because he has them – his darling, the one who’s smile and a simple brush of their hand leaves him breathless, feeling like a little kid with a sense of wonder and hopefulness and love that makes his heart pound in his chest.

A darling that’s able to incite these feelings in him is really the key to catching his attention in the first place – a cruel fate, really, considering his darlings is only trying to help him, only trying to help reassure him that he doesn’t have to be the ever strong, ever cool Hawks in front of everybody.

It’s a noble thought, really – but ultimately one that dooms his darling, forcing the blond to latch onto them with incredible strength and never, ever letting go.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Clingy

It takes quite a while for Keigo’s obsession to form. He’s never really had the time nor desire to get close enough to someone to even consider a relationship, and while he’s a had a one-night stand or two, that one night of intimacy is the closest he’s ever gotten to someone. He’s just not emotionally available, and for very good reason – he’s lived his entire adult life (and much of his youth) completely under the Commission’s control, his every desire, action, and thought controlled by others.

It’s sad and some part of him knows it, pitying himself even, but Keigo’s just not interested in developing any kind of romantic relationship with anyone. He doesn’t have time, and there’s a small part of him that questions if he’s even able to form that kind of a connection with someone. A childhood full of abuse, training and emotional neglect has fucked him up in more ways than one, and he’s genuinely unsure if he’s even capable of something like love, if he’d even be able to give someone a healthy relationship, his heart.

He swears off romance, finding it trivial and just not something for him, but things begin changing the longer he knows you, the longer he’s around you and spends time with you. His feelings are purely platonic at first – you’re funny, someone he finds himself actually getting along with and not dreading seeing, and it’s always a pleasure when he happens to run into you when he’s out on patrol or just wandering around the city in a rare moment of free time.

(And at this point, it genuinely is random – there’s no pre-planned meetings, no orchestrated attempts at just so happening to run into you, no attempt to follow you or know your location at all hours of the day. It’s just fate, really.)

He slowly warms up to you, deciding that he actually really likes you, and as the weeks turn into months, there’s this feeling that starts tugging at his heart. It’s this strange phenomenon where when he’s lost in thought, planning out his next moves in making sure he balances his double agent lifestyle, there’s this lingering thought of you.

He’ll gear up in his hero suit, shrugging the jacket on over his wings and checking himself over in the mirror, only to let his hand linger over his jacket lapel. He’d never noticed the small speck of blood on the tan material – had you? It was surely an enemy’s, some criminal that he’d roughed up a bit too badly before capturing, but it was still an unfortunate sight. His lips quirk down a bit as he thinks of whether you’d noticed it when you’d ran into him at the end of his patrol yesterday – you hadn’t mentioned anything, but maybe you were just being polite.

Something about the thought of you seeing him with blood on him leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

It’s not until a notification on his phone gets his pocket buzzing that he snaps out of his small reverie, blinking at his reflection and feeling a small bit of confusion settle over him. Why was he thinking of you? Surely it wasn’t your blood, and you hadn’t been present during any of his fights yesterday – why had the thought of you popped into his mind?

Keigo’s not sure, but he pushes aside the thought as he jumps off his balcony, the wind catching his wings and letting him soar towards the Hero Commission building.

He doesn’t give it much thought, but then it happens again the next day; he’s out on patrol, flying a good ten feet above the skyline of this particular neighborhood, when he sees a woman walking with a bouquet of flowers. They’re pretty, he supposes – roses mixed with some greenery and tulips, the kind of perfect bouquet you’d see in a rom-com or some cheesy movie.

He smiles a bit, seeing the way the woman was sighing down at them with a dreamy look on her face, and before he can stop himself there’s this flash in his mind of you with flowers in your arms. They’d be a different color, of course – your favorite color, and maybe even a different flower. Whatever one was your favorite, that’s what he’d get you.

He freezes as the last thought flits through his mind, his wings freezing too and causing him to falter a bit mid-air, desperately flapping them to stay afloat. What the hell?

He doesn’t like it, at first – the way you’re slowly seeping into every aspect of his thoughts, always some little twinge of you sitting at the sidelines, an idle thought of wow, you’d look great with that shirt on or a small question of would she like this?

It makes him uncomfortable, because he doesn’t know how to deal with this strange new development – sure, he's heard all about love and falling for someone, because while he may not look like it, he’s watched his fair share of chick flicks and raunchy romances.

But still, this is different – it’s different because it’s him, because it’s you. And it’s different because Keigo notices, as time passes, that none of those films or stories mention just how all-encompassing the feeling is, or how it makes him want to swing by your apartment every night, flying outside your window and letting those honey eyes scan the room to find your familiar figure.

They don’t mention anything about the desire that eats him up at night, how he seems to see you in everything around him – his pillow is soft, but he’s sure your stomach would be softer. His dining chair is comfortable, but having you sit in his lap would make it more comfortable.

The ratty shirt with the massive holes cut in the back is loose on him, but where it looks sloppy on him, you’d manage to look cute, he’s sure. It scares him, if he’s being honest, because he feels his control over himself slowly slipping through his fingers – he can’t stop himself from checking over you when he knows you’re at work, repeatedly flying through the area when he really doesn’t need to, just to make sure there’s no villainous activity.

(And always keeping an eye out for you when he knows your shift is over – he always gets too nervous and chickens out, but one of these days he swears he’s going to swoop down and pick you up, holding you in his arms as he flies around with you, chuckling in your ear and pulling you flush against his body under the guise of ‘safety’ – just please ignore the hardness you feel against your back or the labored breaths in your ear.)

It scares him that he can’t stop himself from suddenly paying much more attention to your every word, listening to you like you’re spouting holy epiphanies as you tell him about your coworkers or this new film you watched, biting his lip and nodding along, letting his eyes occasionally flick down to your mouth as quickly as he can, just so you won’t notice.

Thus starts a troubling pattern – Keigo starts slowly craving learning as much as he can about you, because with every thought that pops up into his head, he finds his knowledge about you is sorely lacking. He doesn’t know what your favorite flower is – he can’t get you that bouquet he was fantasizing of.

He doesn’t know where your favorite take-out place is – he can’t surprise you with dinner on nights he can tell you’re tired. (He can tell because he’d followed you home from the air and noticed your slouched shoulders and the way you’d looked on the verge of tears when you’d stubbed your toe on the uneven sidewalk, but still.)

He doesn’t know what size shoe you wear – he can’t pick you up those new shoes he thought you’d like, or get you a new pair of those fuzzy, warm socks he noticed were looking a little ragged in your laundry bin.

He doesn’t know what your ideal date is, so he can’t plan one with the knowledge that you’d be as happy as humanly possibly, all smiley and bashful and shy, all because you’re with Keigo himself.

It frustrates him, and he figures it wouldn’t hurt to look into you just a bit more – he’s got access to all kinds of information, security clearances associated with his status as both a hero, an agent of the Hero Commission, and an agent of the Meta Liberation Army making pretty much any piece of information he wants to get his hands on accessible. He’s getting access to your computer and phone, sifting through your search histories, contacts, even your bank accounts and government information.

(How else would he be able to start depositing occasional bits of money into your account, gifts he knows you won’t notice because you never check your transaction histories? You may not know about them, but he does, and it makes him feel good, important when he’s gifting you a hundred dollars here and there, making sure you have a cushion so that you can spoil yourself and indulge in all the things he knows you want to, but you don’t have the funds to do so.)

He’s designating a specific feather to slip into your purse or pocket, attached to your person so that he can track where you’re going, feeling the vibration against your back when you’re talking, when you’re shivering because you’re cold, when you’re standing or sitting or laying or moaning and gasping and shaking –

(He’ll always stiffen up when the feather he’d managed to slip into your jacket starts vibrating with the sound of your cries, his cheeks and neck feeling unbearably hot as he starts to sweat, wings twitching uncontrollably and rushing to the nearest bathroom, clutching the sink and grimacing because god, you’re moaning so damn much, you must be touching yourself and he’s not even there to see it, not able to watch you fall apart – maybe you’re even thinking of him, of how he’d fuck you nice and deep, pushing your knees up to your ears and groaning your name over and over while he fills you full of his cum – He’s in the bathroom for a suspiciously long time, and when he comes back with his pants just slightly askew, Dabi will cock a brow but not make a comment.)

He’s even going so far as to set up cameras in your apartment, having broken in one day when you weren’t home, making sure they’re placed in inanimate objects so you don’t find one and get scared.

(Though, he can’t deny that the image of you running to him in fear, crying and clutching onto him and telling him that someone’s stalking you has a very nice ring to it… Ultimately, though, he knows it’s best for you to not take on the stress and burden of knowing your every move is being watched, recorded, stored onto his phone and computer so that when he can’t sleep at night or is particularly stressed from all the lying and sneaking around, he’ll have something pretty and sweet to look at, something calming and relaxing, something that makes him sigh and his lips quirk up into a small smile as his thumb rubs the technology, imagining it was your cheek.)

It’s a slow slide into his obsessive tendencies, but once his feelings for you have formed in full, Keigo is a lost cause – and once you end up trapped with him, forced to depend on him for everything, this trait will only present itself more strongly, becoming harder and harder to ignore because he won’t bother hiding it anymore.

You’ll be scared and apprehensive every time he arrives with a glass of water right when you were beginning to feel thirsty, but really, you should know better. You’ll be unnerved when he presents a new bottle of shampoo to you right as you start itching to shower, but it’s inevitable.

Keigo knows you better than you know yourself, after all – and he just wants to keep you happy, keep you safe. He's just in love, and doesn’t he deserve someone to love?

Doesn’t he deserve to be happy too, to finally, finally have something all to himself, something that’s his?

Protective

Frankly, though Keigo hides it well, his protectiveness over you is unbearable. He’s a seasoned pro-hero who spends a good amount of time with villains, and as a result he’s more than aware of just how dark of a place the world really is. He has intimate knowledge of just how many horrible people are hiding in plain sight, all the violent and horrific crimes they commit, and just how often they manage to escape unscathed.

And of course, he also knows just how many innocent victims get wrapped up in their schemes, often resulting in injuries and trauma and even death. And while Keigo generally is disapproving of murder, he’s even more staunchly against the concept when it’s your death, when you’re the lifeless body that’s laying on the cold, hard cement, blood pooling around your head and your pretty eyes staring aimlessly above, your fingers cold and your neck bruised and oh god oh god –

The realization that the way he feels for you has wandered into romantic territory is the same moment that he realizes that you could very easily be one of the civilians he was just a hair too slow to save.

He’s helping an older woman crawl out of a pile of rubble left behind from a stand-off with a villain, part of the building having collapsed in on itself, and all of a sudden he sees something sticking out from below a large, cement cylinder – a foot, stained red at the ankle, and immediately he feels sick.

Evacuations aren’t always successful, and oh, look at that – the foot’s complexion is oddly familiar, and he swears he’s seen that nail polish on someone else’s fingers before. Bile actually rises up the back of his throat as he realizes that everything about this unfortunate soul reminds him of you, even down to the hair dotting her leg. It’s a hard pill to swallow as images of you bloody and bruised flash through his mind, each one making his chest tighter than the last.

It leaves his fists clenching and his jaw tight enough to make his teeth hurt, and it’s in that moment that his body almost seems to operate on autopilot – the images of you battered and too injured to be helped are still swirling through his mind as his feet leave the ground, his wings beating faster and faster with every second, his desperation to reach you strong enough to get his heart practically racing out of his chest.

The wind is whistling in his ears as he flies to your apartment, his muscles aching from the exertion, his lip caught between his teeth as he mentally chants that you’re okay, you’re okay, please God you have to be okay.

It’s only once he lands on your apartment balcony and sees you clumsily doing your dishes in the kitchen sink that relief floods his system, his entire body sagging against the railing as he finally lets out the breath he’d been unconsciously holding back.

You’re okay.

You’re alive and breathing, and as his eyes scan every exposed inch of your skin, he can’t find even a speck of blood. A hand comes up to rest over his heart, and Keigo swallows, Adam’s apple visibly bobbing with the weight of the motion.

He spends longer than he’d care to admit on your balcony that evening, those yellow eyes watching like a hawk as you move about in your tiny apartment, mentally assessing each and every movement. You’re pretty like this, he thinks – you’re entirely unaware that you’re being watched, but there’s something about seeing you be so natural and free that’s exhilarating, making his heart pound and his cheeks flush pink because this is what you’re really like when no one’s watching. It makes his chest ache to see it, his gloved fingers reaching out and pressing against the glass of your sliding door, the urge almost unbearable to be with you and hear what he’s sure is you singing along to some horrible song.

He’s idly wondering if you cook all your meals, and that’s why you have so many dishes – would you cook for him? He's a lousy chef and frankly a bit picky about his food, but he’d eat anything you make for him with a bright smile and trembling fingers, eagerly wolfing down the food and being nearly brought to tears because you made this for him.

He’s imagining the way you’d let him hold you at night, sharing a bed with you and your body pressed snugly beside his, an arm draped over your side and your soft breaths tickling the expanse of his chest. It’s a pleasant thought, but all too soon his phone is buzzing and he’s brought out of his reverie, glancing at the time and sucking in a sharp breath because it’s been an hour and a half of him just sitting here, gaping like an idiot at you.

Embarrassment creeps up his spine, but before he jumps off the balcony and heads to the Commission to report back, he spares a final glance over his shoulder at you, and the smallest of smiles sits on his lips, something warm blooming in his chest.

But from that moment onwards, Keigo slowly becomes more and more consumed by the idea of just how truly unprepared you are for any sort of villain encounter. You have a quirk, sure, but it’s minor and not especially useful, and it certainly wouldn’t help if you were to be cornered in some dark alleyway, or if you were to hear your front door’s lock being picked, or if you were to be caught in the crossfire of a villain robbing a bank.

And it’s small things that remind him of these facts – he'll see you trip over seemingly nothing, losing your footing and stumbling for just a moment, and immediately fear is sitting heavy in his gut because god, you’d be dead meat running from a villain. It’s endearing, of course, but it’s scary.

He hears you giggle sheepishly and rub the back of your neck as you admit to your friend over lunch that you’d forgot to lock your door when you left for groceries yesterday, his skin and feathers bristling and a small prick of anger bubbling inside him because are you asking to be the next tragedy covered on the news?

He takes you out for dinner (that he hopes you’ll think of as a date, even if the restaurant is a simple diner that he knows you love) and sees a bandaid on your finger, his voice a touch lower than his previous joking tone as he asks if you’re okay, did you hurt yourself? Your response of how you’d accidentally caught the sharp edge of a razor in the shower makes his entire body tense, both at the idea of you in the shower and at the idea of your blood being drawn, of the way you’d probably hissed and bit your lip, the pain acute. You’ll notice the way he freezes up, this look on his face that you can’t quite describe, but soon he’ll be flashing you that familiar grin, taking a sip of his soda and telling you that unshaved is better, hasn’t anyone ever told you that?

(He likes the way you roll your eyes and pretend that you aren’t embarrassed by his comment – at least, he hopes that’s how you’re feeling, because the comment made him himself a little hot under the collar.)

Everything you do is a reminder to him that you’re weak, and it’s this constant mantra that moves Keigo to take his own measures to ensure your safety. He’ll offer to walk you home from work every day, waving off your concerns by telling you that his patrols end right around that time anyways so it’s no big deal.

(They don’t – they tend to end much earlier, but this way he can fly around for a bit, trail you from the air and keep his eyes trained only on you, all with the luxury of lying when you notice his presence about how his patrol areas happen to line up with the district you work in.)

He’ll tell you that he’s sure your cooking is good, but he knows what place has the absolute best lunches – and would you look at that, it’s not too far from your apartment! Maybe you’d be interested in getting lunch with him sometimes? He knows the owner pretty well because he’s always in there, maybe he could even get the both of you a loyal customer discount.

(He’d only started eating there because a late night of watching you through your apartment windows had led to his stomach growling too much to bear, and he’d strolled into the twenty-four-hour establishment absolutely ravenous for food, still glowing from having watched your sleeping face.)

He’s even making unsolicited, subtle remarks about your own habits designed to get you to change some of your more problematic traits – he’ll tell you that eating breakfast is actually very good for you, he’s heard that people who skip breakfast tend to have bowel problems.

(It’s delivered as a joke and you snort because he’d been a little graphic with a bad pun thrown in there, and as Keigo basks in the sight of your smile and the sound of your laughter, he hopes that you’ll remember the sentiment – you need to be eating properly, after all.)

He’s telling you that crime rates have been awfully high in your neighborhood lately – it’s recommended for all civilians to avoid speaking to anyone on the streets – just for safety purposes, of course.

(And because it dramatically reduces the number of men you interact with, something that makes both his protectiveness and possessiveness cool ever so slightly because that means one less man that you could meet and fall for and want and love-)

And why shouldn’t you believe everything that he says? He’s the number two hero, a man who’s saved more lives than you could imagine – how could he not be the authority on safety? Who are you to doubt anything he tells you, any advice he gives you?

And Keigo knows this – which is why he’ll start pushing further and further with time, trying to convince you to drop anything dangerous at all; did you know that more people cut themselves with knives than with all other cutting tools combined? You should really be careful, you know – besides, sometimes recipes are better with whole tomatoes!

(Really, he just wants to avoid seeing a knife in your hands – you’re not trustworthy with something so sharp, even if the sight of you in the kitchen slaving over the stove is strangely adorable, strangely right.)

Did you know that most animal attacks are from dogs? Maybe you shouldn’t consider getting that cute puppy you’d been gushing about – you just never know.

(Really, Keigo’s just worried that you’ll end up spending all your time and attention with said puppy, leaving him with only the most meager scraps that won’t be nearly enough to satisfy him, and while he’s serious about the dog attacks, he’s mostly just selfish. Plus, an animal companion would make slipping through your window late at night almost impossible.)

Did you know that the vast majority of murder victims are women? You should probably take him up on his offer to be your personal chaperone – consider it a favor for a friend, he’d told you.

(Though he’d been gritting his teeth as he said the word ‘friend’, even the feel of it on his tongue making something ugly twist in his gut. The way he feels for you certainly isn’t friendly – it can’t be, not when he’s imagining waking up with you every morning, the way your lips would taste, how you’d look on your knees staring up at him while you gag and choke and suck so hard your cheeks hollow out.)

And once you’ve been kidnapped, this trait is only furthered, his paranoia eating away at him because he knows you’ll be rebellious, that you’ll want to lash out and hurt yourself and hurt him, and just the thought leaves him buzzing with anxiety, stress eating away at him because he absolutely refuses to let you get injured in any way.

You have to stay pristine – his gorgeous, precious partner that he loves, the only woman who’s ever made him feel something so strong. You have to be okay – because if you aren’t, then he isn’t either, and the only thing more dangerous than a powerful, cunning man living a double life is a broken, apathetic man who wants everyone to know just how little life means now that his other half is gone.

Controlling

His controlling tendencies manifest as a result of both his extreme protectiveness, and as a sort of coping mechanism from the lack of control he has over his own life. He does love you – at least, he thinks this is love.

(If it’s not love, then Keigo doesn’t know what the fuck this could possibly be – what else would cause him to be thinking of you at all hours of the day, his body physically aching and yearning to be with you? What else could cause his breathing to hitch and become so uneven when you’re in his presence, his quirk nearly out of his control as his feathers ruffle and flutter and come down around you like some sort of cage?)

He loves you, sure, his obsession festering into something darker, deeper, more unmanageable and impossible to come back from, but there’s a part of him that begins exerting this control over you as a way to satisfy himself.

By dictating your life, it’s almost like he’s dictating his own – like he gets to choose what happens, like he has self-autonomy, like he isn’t just a puppet being used by others. It’s euphoric, cathartic, and this only furthers his dependence on you – not only do you make him feel something warm and gooey and suffocating in his chest, but you also make him feel calmer, more grounded, more whole.

But as lovely as it is for Keigo to finally get a grip on his own mental health, this has rather disastrous effects on you – even before he’s stolen you away, these controlling tendencies are present. Of course, they’re difficult to spot when Keigo is still just the handsome, flirty hero who seems to have a soft spot for little old you. You’re in a metaphorical honeymoon phase at that point, beyond flattered that someone like him has noticed someone like you.

And so, you don’t really notice the way that he tells you to stop hanging out with a particular friend that you keep rambling on about. They’re going through a hard time, you’re sure of it – it’s the only reason they’ve been so snappy and distant lately, and it’s only natural for you to bear your burdens to Keigo, telling him how they were rude to you last weekend, how they’ve been ignoring your calls, how you’re at a loss because what could possibly be happening?

And Keigo will grit his teeth, his smile tight and visibly strained as he clutches onto his coffee cup with white knuckles, eventually telling you wow, that really sucks, some friend. Maybe you should stop hanging out with them – obviously they aren’t as invested in the friendship as you are, sound like they’re not as good of a friend as you are, frankly.

It’s good advice, all things considered, but it’s presented in a way that flatters you, that makes you sound like you’re the reasonable, good friend and they’ve simply dropped the ball. And so, you’ll follow his advice – that friend isn’t contacted again, and Keigo personally sees to it that you’ve blocked them, having gone in and manually done it on your phone while you were fast asleep.

You won’t notice how he makes subtle comments about what you should order when you’re at a restaurant together – he’ll never make comments about your weight, but he’ll prompt you to eat something healthier, something more, something that’ll leave you happy but nourish you as well. The comments are again difficult to spot – when he opens up the menu, he’ll pipe up and tell you that they’ve got that salad you were talking about the other day – you know the one? Yeah, sounds good – do you want to split it? I think we should get some extra chicken on top, too.

(Once the salad arrives, of course, you’ll be eating the majority – Keigo will nibble at it, picking at it and making a bit show of always having his fork packed with the greens – and a lot of the chicken – but you’ll be the one shoveling food into your mouth, feeling full by the time Keigo’s eaten roughly ten bites.)

You won’t notice it much at all, really – which is why it’s such a shock to one day wake up in Keigo’s luxury, king-sized bed, the soft white sheets smelling like fresh laundry and the pretty red, silky pajamas he’d changed you into feeling foreign on your body.

But just like his more needy and clingy tendencies, Keigo’s controlling nature will start to show itself once he’s stolen you away. There’s no point in hiding how he feels now, is there? You’re aware that he’s in love with you (he tells you every fucking day, after all, with a hushed voice that sounds much too vulnerable for you to bear and a barrage of kisses along your jawline and neck), so what’s the point in dialing down some of the more questionable aspects of his infatuation?

He’d kidnapped you out of paranoia, and now that you’re with him constantly, he’s able to really, fully control your actions and the things you’re allowed to do. He’s not too dehumanizing with it, but there’s a lot of limits on things that you normally wouldn’t even think about – you’re allowed to watch TV, but only for an hour a day and only specific channels and programs he’s approved.

(Generally, the cutoff for what he considers ‘appropriate’ for you are things without graphic violence, nothing terribly sad, and nothing that would cause you tension or stress. So, all horror movies are off the table, all dramas, all action films, really only leaving the things he wouldn’t mind watching with you – romances, mostly, and the occasional film with much more erotica than he realized. His face will turn red as the actors moan and whisper hushed I love you’s, his yellow eyes nervously flicking over to you from his spot beside you, his fingers itching to reach out to you, the blanket covering you both suddenly feeling much too hot.)

You’re allowed to eat what you want, but with a few very strict guidelines – you can’t have anything over a certain amount of grams of sugar, nor are you allowed to consume anything that isn’t paired with a vegetable. He’s forcing you to eat protein, and if you don’t eat meat he’ll count out a specific number of nuts you must consume that day, just to make sure you’re getting proper nutrition.

He especially loves if you’ll let him feed the nuts to you, or any food, really – he likes to feel needed and helpful, and to have you looking at him with those pretty eyes, the fork pressed against your lips while you swallow and thank him for the food… It makes Keigo’s breathing get a bit heavy, his mouth watering because god, he wants to use that fork after you, would you think that’s weird?

He’s not taking away any of your basic privileges like dressing yourself or using the restroom alone, but Keigo has a way of making you feel pathetic without even trying to; there’s just something about the way he looks at you, all soft smiles and wide eyes, his palms always clammy and nervous, his touch always hesitant but eager.

He won’t explicitly create a schedule for your daily life under his thumb, but you’ll essentially be in one, anyways. He leaves for work in the mornings, parting from you with a very, very tonguey kiss, and while he’s gone on his patrol all day, you’ll cycle through reading a few of the (pre-approved) books he’d gifted you, practicing your art skills, practicing your musical skills, and staring out the fifteen-story window, the one-way, bulletproof glass not giving you even the option to crack it if you wanted to brave the fall.

You’ll be stagnant, really, something that Keigo doesn’t appreciate at all once he notices it happening, but it doesn’t change the fact that he absolutely can’t relinquish control – you’re his, and even if you’re unhappy, Keigo will be damned if he gives up caring for you and making your decisions for you. That’s love, isn’t it? He knows what’s best for you, so why can’t you see that? Why do you fight him and tell him he’s a monster, a horrible, horrible man?

He just wants to keep you safe and happy and loved, so why are you making it so fucking difficult?

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

While Keigo isn’t too terribly possessive as far as yanderes go, he really only has so much self-control. Of course, he doesn’t like seeing other men around you, those already narrow eyes of his growing even sharper and smaller because he does not like this.

But what sets Keigo apart from others is that while he’s enraged, anxiety and anger prickling at his skin and causing goosebumps to litter his entire body, he’s smart. He’s good at reading people, at fully assessing situations and making split seconds analyses, and that’s exactly what he’ll do whenever he sees you in a situation where another man is showing interest.

He’ll examine the man’s face – is he smiling? Laughing? Serious? Frowning?

Smiling and laughing generally means one of two things – either the man hopes to become friends or acquaintances with you, or he’s flirting and he thinks it’s going very well. Keigo can’t decide which option he hates more.

A serious expression or a frown normally means that the man is trying to create a mysterious air – to embody hypermasculinity, to try and lure you in by looking the part of the strong, dominant man who’s only weakness is you. It makes Keigo cringe, his nose scrunching up in a wince as he thinks of how terribly stupid this man must be to think you’d fall for something like that – he obviously doesn’t know you or your intellect, at least not like Keigo does. Nobody knows you like Keigo does – not even yourself.

He’s looking at the man’s body language – if he’s leaning towards you, he probably has less than innocent intentions, either trying to intimidate you or get close to you to fulfill some sick, perverted urge.

(An urge that Keigo knows all too well – the urge to feel you, to touch you, to smell you, to have your skin against his. It’s an urge that he’s had to fight more times than he can count, stopping himself from scooping your into his arms and burying his face into the crook of your neck, his hands roaming every inch of your body because god, you smell good and you’re so fucking pretty and your voice is like heaven to his ears and you feel too damn good pressed against him like this and fuck you drive him absolutely insane.)

If the man has his hands in his pockets, that generally signals to Keigo that he’s not as confident at this as he’d like you to believe, showing the hero that the man is more than aware that you’re wildly out of his league, that really the man should have absolutely no business speaking with you.

Keigo’s noticing the distance between your body and the stranger’s – if it’s more than three feet, he’s able to take a small, minimally relieved sigh because at least the man isn’t likely to try something. But if he’s closer to you, dangerously close to being in your space and making you feel uncomfortable, immediately Keigo’s wings are flapping, the movements harsh and unconscious as his fists tighten and he grits his teeth because he’ll be damned if he lets anyone make you uncomfortable.

And he’s analyzing your body language, too, of course – if you like the interaction, if you’re pleased by the attention, if you’re scared, if you want to leave, even if you want to leave with the stranger himself. And while Keigo wishes he was wrong, the moments where you actually seem to be enjoying the flirting of a stranger make him bristle, a deep scowl settling on his face while insecurity and panic grip his heart because he has to stop this before it's too late – before you let yourself get wooed by another man before Keigo even gets the chance to fully earn your trust and adoration.

Seeing you approached by potential rivals for your love really brings out the worst side of Keigo – it brings out all the skills the Commission drilled into him, those eyes of his dissecting the other man like he’s merely a slab of meat, the blond finding every possible point of weakness in the man’s stature or attitude, just so Keigo can understand the full scope of what he’s competing with. Just so that Keigo can understand exactly how he can be better than this loser – how he can impress you and get you acting all bashful and dismissive of his witty flirting just like you should be.

Jealousy isn’t too pretty on Keigo, and while he won’t just blindly murder any man that steals your attention for even a moment.

(He’d lose his hero status very quickly, no matter how much he sometimes wants to send a feather clean through their neck, slicing their head off and feeling not a smidge of remorse because now he’ll finally stop running his mouth at you when you’ve clearly already been chosen to be Hawks’s woman – the number two’s sweet, important little partner that he absolutely cannot lose).

His patrol had felt incredibly long today – no large villain sightings, with only a few petty muggers making the time pass. Keigo sighs, wings flapping and wind whipping in his ears as he eagerly scans the streets below.

Normally, you’d be walking to the grocery store right around now – he’d noticed you were low on eggs, so it was only a matter of time before you braved the cold autumn air. Suspicion immediately pricks along Keigo’s spine, however, as he slowly flies along the path that you take to the store. You’re no where in sight – he doesn’t see your familiar jacket or notice the way the sunlight glistens off your hair, and immediately something uncomfortable is settling in his gut.

This wasn’t like you – you’d told him once that you prefer this time of day for your shopping because the store is the least crowded, and Keigo knows how you feel about interacting with strangers. And yet, you’re missing – something that makes him immediately pick up his speed, brows knitting together and his lower lip caught between his teeth. Eager eyes scan every sidewalk as he quickly makes his way to your apartment complex, every second that he doesn’t see you only furthering the feeling of dread slowly eating at him.

He’s near the point of whipping out his phone to call you and check the tracker he’d installed into your phone when he lets out an audible sigh of relief, having spotted your familiar form on the sidewalk below. You’re only a few blocks from your apartment at this point – and with a look of disgust, Keigo identifies the reason why.

There’s a man with you.

You’re standing and speaking with him, tucked away at the corner of the sidewalk, and immediately the feeling of panic is replaced by anger, his shoulders tensing up. As he swoops down and lands on the top of the building above you, he cranes his neck to get a better look at this man. Keigo’s never seen him before – you’ve never interacted with him in all the months he’s been watching you, leading him to believe that this man is a stranger.

Keigo taps his foot impatiently, trying to decide if this is good news or bad news. On the one hand, it’s always good news to know that you don’t have many men in your life – Keigo should be the only one, really, the only person, even, not just man.

But it also means that this stranger probably stopped you to strike up a conversation, which can only means two things – either the man is asking an innocent question, or he’s interested in you. Interested in you, as in wanting to date you, to kiss your pretty lips and hear you whisper those three words and bend you in half and make you scream and moan and gush-

Keigo grits his teeth, left eye twitching slightly at the mere thought of this man being brazen enough to approach you like this. And based off the way he keeps steadily stepping closer to you and you keep subtly shifting away from him, Keigo suddenly understands exactly what’s going on.

He hesitates for only a moment, a small pang of doubt registering in the back of his mind (wondering if this is how you look when you’re with Keigo himself, that annoying insecurity revolving around anything romantic and anything with you once again filling him with false worries), before he’s jumping from the rooftop, landing with a small grunt onto the sidewalk a few feet away from the two of you.

Clearing his throat, he walks with a bit more urgency than normal towards you, slinging an arm around your shoulder and leaning in.

What’re we talking about? Keigo asks, yellow eyes fixed on the man, any semblance of a smile gone from his face. His chest is puffed out ever so slightly, wings spread to make his physical presence as big as possible, to make him as intimidating as possible. Immediately you’re jumping, slightly embarrassed and slightly relieved at Keigo’s sudden presence. He feels you relax slightly against him and tries to ignore the way his throat goes dry and his pupils dilate – he’ll relive the memory of you feeling safe around him later tonight, but now’s not the time.

The man steps back immediately, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking at the hero sheepishly, guilt written all over his face. Keigo scoffs under his breath, examining the man’s face in closer detail. He’s somewhat attractive, and that same nagging voice comes back, idly wondering if you’d prefer brunettes like this man over blondes like Keigo, or if you preferred slightly taller men, because this stranger is easily a few inches taller than the hero. He frows, biting the inside of his cheek and willing the thoughts to go away – at least until he’s sorted this out.

Oh, Hawks, hey man, I didn’t – we’re not talkin’ about anything. Nice to meet you, miss. The man fumbles for his words, before quickly backpedaling and practically running the opposite direction, peeking over his shoulder every once in a while and wincing.

Keigo holds his ground, not moving, keeping those eyes locked on the man’s figure until he’s eventually a good block or two away. Only then does Keigo turn to you, his cheeks a little pink as he flashes you a smile. He’s still got his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and he gives you a small squeeze that he hopes isn’t too forward – he wouldn’t want you to get the idea that he’s after the same thing that stranger had been.

(Though really, isn’t he? He just wants all of you, not only your body – and he can take much better care of you, can’t he? Better than that gangly, sleazy man ever could, better than any other man ever could.)

He’s brought out of his small reverie by you profusely thanking him, telling him that the man had just approached you out of nowhere and you didn’t know how to leave the situation without it potentially escalating.

Keigo only smiles lazily, nodding at you and telling you not to worry, that he’s a pro hero, so it’s kind of my job, you know? Though for my favorite civilian, I don’t mind working overtime.

He winks at you after that, feeling only slightly anxious that you’ll find the action too arrogant, but you only blink owlishly at him, mumbling something about feeling guilty that it’s ‘overtime’. Keigo waves off your concerns, releasing your shoulder and trying not to show loss on his face.

You thank him again, smiling at him in a way that gets his knees very close to buckling, but he just clears his throat and nods, saluting you playfully and letting his wings flap, already a few feet in the air as he tells you to enjoy the rest of your night and to call him if any other creeps show up. You’re still smiling as he flies back over the roof of the building, but you don’t notice how he stops, peeking over the roof to see you make your way in the direction of the grocery store.

A small smile sits on his lips at the sight, smaller and more genuine than the smirk he’d been wearing moments ago.

Knew it, he thinks earnestly, already mentally predicting what you’ll pick up from the store. And as he hovers back into the air, cracking his neck and knuckles, he decides following you there couldn’t hurt – just in case any more men decide to mess with his woman.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Keigo’s obsession with you is overwhelming, terrifying, and pushes him to do a number of things that force his morals to be flung out the window of favor of keeping you safe, happy, his, but there’s still a few things that he can’t push himself to do, even with you in mind. One of these things is to steal you away.

Kidnapping you is not something he wants to do – he may nurse a few beliefs about how you’ll eventually forgive him for being so obsessive and domineering over you, but Keigo isn’t stupid. He knows your image of him will never recover if he presses the chloroform-soaked rag up to your mouth and coos at you while you fall limp and into his arms.

He knows you’ll never truly forgive him if you wake up one morning in his apartment, breakfast in bed waiting beside you while he stares eagerly down at you, apologizing for having to be so extreme but trying desperately to convince you that he had no other choice, that he did it for you, that he did it to keep you safe.

He knows it won’t go over well, and Keigo already feels so unsure of how to properly court you and make you genuinely like him and not just Hawks that he doesn’t want to do something even slightly risky. He already knows that stalking you, breaking into your home at night to restock your refrigerator and lay beside you on your bed is crossing enough boundaries and grounds for you to be seriously afraid of him, but kidnapping you is a line he simply isn’t willing to cross.

At least, that’s how he initially feels – until something drastic happens, something that seriously threatens your safety and Keigo can’t just simply sit back and allow it to happen. And of course, it’s fucking Dabi – Keigo’s stomach drops when he hears you mention something about running into a man on your way over a cozy cup of coffee in a local café, the air warm and smelling of espresso.

He’d picked the café because he knew it wasn’t super busy – as much as his pride swells when civilians notice him and beg him for autographs and photos right in front of you, it also makes him nervous because the last thing he wants is to come off as cocky or arrogant or rude.

(Plus, the thought of making you jealous of his fans – especially the adoring women – gets his heart racing, his face and ears feeling hot because it makes him feel good that you’re being possessive over him, but he really doesn’t want you to worry. He’ll always be yours.)

But now he’s wishing it was full to the brim, voices chattering and making it difficult to hear the way you describe a man with so many piercings and a pretty serious skin condition came up to me, he knew my name! Keigo, why do you think he knew my name? Do you think I should be worried?

He’s stiff, every muscle in his body tense and his grip on the coffee cup in his hand so tight that it shatters, coffee and ceramic shards getting everywhere. He’s still staring at you, though, even as you gasp and stand up, running to grab some napkins and wipe up the still steaming coffee. There’s some on his hand but he doesn’t seem to care – to even notice, really, if the way he’s just staring and not even flinching is any indication.

Your brows furrow as you wipe the drink off of him, chest heaving slightly as you ask him if he’s okay, if it hurts, if he’s even listening to you. Keigo just swallows, still looking at you, before telling you with an unnervingly flat voice that it’s certainly weird, but I wouldn’t worry about it.

You don’t mention it again, instead trying to ignore the heavy atmosphere and the way he’s looking at you, all wide-eyed and not a single bit of emotion on his face. It’s scaring you, to be honest, and you’re quick to give him a small side hug and thank him for meeting you for coffee. Keigo mumbles something back as he watches you walk away, something prickling at the corners of his eyes that almost feel like tears as he imagines how Dabi could’ve possibly learned about you.

He’d been so fucking careful – always making sure to not let his phone ever directly point at your face or your address, never explicitly saying your full name in case he was being bugged, never even breathing any bit of information that the greedy bastard could get his hands on.

And yet, it’d all been for nothing – because now that Dabi knows about you, everything has changed. You’re in danger, because although Keigo believes that Dabi won’t immediately kill you, he can’t simply rely on his gut – you’re in danger. And although he’d promised himself he wouldn’t snatch you away, that he wouldn’t betray your trust and make you hate him, he doesn’t really have a choice now, does he?

And so, with a heavy heart and red, puffy eyes, Keigo slips into your apartment, the sleeping pills he’d mixed into your water sitting on your nightstand leaving you out like a light, even as he fabricates the crime scene. He’s shattering your window to mimic a home invader, tangling up your sheets and leaving dirty prints coming out your front door, your clothes ransacked and your television and computer destroyed.

It has to look real, after all – faking a death is difficult but he’s done it before, and as he soars away across town to his own apartment, with you clutched in his arms and your hair tickling his neck, Keigo can only whisper apologies against the crown of your head, squeezing his eyes closed and hoping that even in your unconscious state, you can feel how terribly, terribly sorry he is.

Of course, even though your kidnapping isn’t the idea situation for you or your captor, Keigo still tries to make the best of it. He doesn’t pretend to think that you’re happy with him – he expects the crying and screaming when you wake up the next morning, his expression carefully neutral as you accuse him of being a villain, a creep, even though it makes his chest ache in a way no injury ever has, his lips feeling numb because god, he can’t breath with how you look at him in disgust and hatred.

It’s horrible – but he grits his teeth and bares it, avoiding the pillows (lush and top-quality, of course, covered in sheets of your favorite color) you’re throwing at him, not saying anything until you’ve had your fill. And really, his explanation once you’d calmed down enough to listen to it isn’t nearly enough – he’s at a loss for words, really, looking at you with such honest eyes that it only makes you cry harder.

He’ll tell you that I need to keep you safe, and I – I’m selfish, so this is the only way. It’s lackluster and it’ll have you despising him, but as the days slowly pass, you’ll find yourself growing less and less enraged at him, instead growing more and more complacent about your new life.

Because really, Keigo absolutely fucking spoils you. He’s certainly not hurting financially, and he won’t bat an eye at buying anything and everything he thinks you could possibly want.

He’s getting takeout every night, ordering all your favorites (without having to ask you, of course, something that’d scared you at first, but there’s something about the way he eyes you as you eat it that makes you pause, his small, almost shy question of do you like it sounding rushed and nervous) and making sure to pick up snacks and goodies on his way home from almost every patrol. He loves to see you smile, and even in the beginning, when you’re still afraid of him and betrayed, the way your lips quirk up ever so slightly into the shadow of a smile when he hands you your favorite snack makes him gulp, something warm and overwhelming and hopeful bubbling up inside him.

He’s buying you pretty necklaces and jewelry that remind him of you, all the pieces startlingly within your tastes, his memory of the jewelry you used to wear so acute and strong that he knows your style even better than you do.

All of the clothing he buys for you (mostly comfortable clothing, lounging shirts and sweatpants and giant blanket ponchos) fits you perfectly, almost seeming to be tailored with the way they fit around your bust, hips, ass, shoulders, and thighs.

(He won’t buy you any formal clothing, however – he’s faked your death, and he can’t exactly take you out for a nice date now, can he? He wouldn’t mind doing a candle-lit dinner in his own apartment, maybe sprinkling a few rose petals over the table and cooking you something that he really, really needs you to like, but he knows you aren’t willing. You’d thrash and refuse, not eating his food and looking at him with those eyes, the ones that are hard and calloused and sting with pain. So, he instead purchases the pretty dresses with low tops and slits up the leg, storing them in his spare closet so that you never see them, so that you don’t feel forced into anything more than you don’t want. Kidnapping is enough – romantic dinners would be amazing, the kind of thing that Keigo thinks about with a small, sad smile on his face as he watches you sleep late at night, but certainly not a thing that could happen. Absolutely not – at least, not any time soon.)

He’s embracing each and ever artistic and creative passion you’ve ever had, buying you unfathomable amounts of supplies and instruments of the highest quality, waiting with baited breath to see if you like them, hoping with his hands clutched into fists at his side that you’ll smile at him, that you’ll look at him in anything other than hate – and perhaps, if he’s lucky enough, you’ll even thank him.

(Just the thought makes him shiver, a blush rising from his chest all the way up his neck because he can’t not immediately imagine the way you’d thank him – perhaps you’d give him a kiss, full of tongue and spit and moans, or maybe you’d even sink to your knees for him, telling him that you appreciate his thoughtfulness, his love, how he works so hard to keep me safe, won’t you let me thank you, Keigo? Please?)

It’s wishful thinking, of course, but Keigo tries to do everything humanly possible to keep you as happy as you can be given the situation. Of course, he’s still controlling, laying down rules that you’ll be too afraid to disobey, because although Keigo is soft with you and treats you like you’re made of glass, you’ve seen the televised fights, the way his knuckles are sometimes bruised after patrols, the way he snaps angrily into his phone when the Commission calls him with yet another assignment. He’s still dictating what you can eat, how much contact you get with the outside world, your limited sources of entertainment, anything and everything. But he tries his absolute hardest to respect you in every other way, if only to perhaps plant the seeds of you one day growing to tolerate him, of you one day even perhaps loving him.

And so, Keigo forces himself to do the hardest thing of all – not physically crowd you. He’s always wanted to be touchy with you, the years of not having anyone to hold or even give platonic physical affection causing him to be touch-starved, and so once you come into the picture?

Well, he’s only a man – he can’t help but imagine the way your hand would feel in his, fingers intertwined and your soft skin pressed against his own rougher hands.

He can’t help but imagine kissing you, feeling how soft and gentle your lips would be against his, how you taste, how you’d make little sighs and whines when he starts kissing you harder, deeper, letting even just the smallest sliver of his desperation for you shine through.

He can’t help but imagine pulling your body against his own, keeping every inch of you flush with him while you watch a movie together, his fingers toying absentmindedly with your hair, deep exhales sounding from behind you each time he leans in to catch a whiff of you.

He can’t not imagine the way you’d get all shy and bashful when the hand that’s been running up and down your sides suddenly dips lower, cupping at your ass while he lowly mumbles your name, telling you that he can’t hold back anymore, angel, can’t I have a taste?

He’s being good – he’s forcing all those urges and fantasies to the side, not putting you in a position where you feel forced into physical contact of any kind, sexual or otherwise. He’s respecting you, prioritizing you, even if it slowly destroys him. Having you right there, stuck with him, permanently bound to his side makes him want to grab onto you and never let go, to latch onto you like some sort of leech and take everything you have to offer and then some. It drives him fucking crazy, but he knows he’ll get nowhere by forcing anything onto you.

And so, he holds his tongue, forcing his hand to not reach out and touch, forcing himself to not say the compliment on the tip of his tongue that’ll likely make you more uncomfortable than flattered. He’s good, and eventually you’ll end up slowly coming to tolerate him. Sure, he’s kidnapped you and sure, you’re still understandably upset at him, but isn’t he right? You’d seen the man that approached you before Keigo stole you away – if he’d attacked you, what would you have done? You’d have hoped and prayed that Hawks would have shown up, that you’d been saved because you were too weak and incapable of doing it yourself.

So maybe he’s right – maybe you do need him, like he tells you late at night when he thinks you’re asleep. He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself, sounding more and more sure of himself as the night wears on and he repeats aloud that he’s keeping you safe, I’m keeping you safe, I know you don’t understand it now but someday you’ll realize that I only took you to keep you out of harm’s way.

And once you get past that barrier of hatred and animosity, it’s disturbingly easy to let Keigo take full control, to give into him in every possible way.

You’ll stop fighting his diet planning, you’ll gladly thank him for any book he gives you as entertainment, you’ll eagerly listen when he tells you about his patrol and how he encountered so many villains who’d done horrible things. And Keigo will notice this change in your attitude – it’s too early to tell and he’s always been too pessimistic to be hopeful, but you almost seem to be liking him. You’re starting to revert back to the woman he first became obsessed with – all smiles and laughter and snarky comments that left him choking on his drink.

And he can’t believe it – he has to pinch himself, staring at you in shock with a flushed face as you make some comment alluding to him being ‘too handsome for his own good’, the fork in his hand clattering down onto the plate. From there, it’s a steady trajectory up – you’ll start getting even more little knick-knacks, shiny things and expensive things that he leaves in pretty, bow-wrapped boxes for you, a card written in his best handwriting that says something along the lines of for my angel.

It’s cheesy and makes you laugh a bit, but Keigo keeps doing because god, please laugh like that again, say his name while you do it and maybe even reach out to touch his shoulder…

He jumps at the opportunity to further your changing opinion of him, determined to make you like him, determined to let him love you like he knows he can – like he’ll do anything to prove to you.

PUNISHMENTS:

As a general rule, getting Keigo upset with you is kind of difficult. He views you as his own personal slice of heaven, the only thing that he truly has. You’re the only thing that belongs to Keigo Takami, not Hawks, not the Commission, only him, and because of that he tends to idolize you.

You’re his first real romantic partner, his first real romantic experience, and the combination of that plus his intense, pitifully strong desire to please you makes it hard for him to stay angry at you for any significant period of time. And so, while he’s far from the ideal captor (too clingy, too controlling, too awed when he looks at you), Keigo will avoid punishing you at all costs.

He just doesn’t see the point – he doesn’t want you to hate him any more than you already do, and the thought of purposefully hurting you makes him feel physically ill. He hates seeing you in pain – it’s part of what drove him to steal you away, after all, the terror he felt at knowingly putting you in harm’s way. He’s protective and frankly anal about your health, and so to purposefully bruise your pretty skin or make you cry makes him angry enough to want to hit something, angry enough to literally writhe in his own rage.

And so, Keigo swears off any sort of physical altercations with you – he’s just too strong and you’re just too weak, and it would break him to know that he was the source of your pain and misery.

(He knows he is, already, but he can’t be the source of it physically, too, otherwise he might just shatter, feeling entirely numb and carrying out his missions like a robot, utterly unaffected by the world because he hurt you, and can he even call himself a decent hero, a decent man after that?)

However, while causing you physical harm is off the table, Keigo is realistic enough about your situation to know that punishing you entirely is something he can’t avoid. You will act out, he’s sure of it – he’d be concerned if you didn’t, really, and so he’s expecting you to lash out at him and try to hurt him. If he were you, he’d do it too.

But as much as he expects this behavior and wouldn’t fault you for it, Keigo knows that if he wants to make any progress, if he wants to give you even a chance at eventually growing complacent (it’s a selfish desire, really, but it’s the only route he can see to where you’ll be even remotely happy, or at least not fighting tooth and nail at all costs), he has to establish repercussions for when you’re throwing tantrums or acting poorly.

It feels condescending and Keigo hates it, but he decides that where physical punishments fail, he must rely on emotional ones. It’s manipulative and it makes Keigo feel dirty, disgusting, like a poor excuse for your so-called-protector, but it’s his only choice. He has to get you into shape, both for your sake and his. It’s the only choice, he swears.

You really hadn’t meant to stumble upon something you weren’t supposed to find, really. As a general rule, you don’t snoop through Keigo’s things – he’s a clean freak, first of all, the apartment he keeps you in minimalistic with everything in its correct spot. It’s classy and pretty, sure, but it’s boring, and can you really be blamed for wanting to explore after a few weeks cooped up in this penthouse?

Certainly not – which is how you find yourself tiptoeing into Keigo’s bedroom – he’d brought up the idea of sharing a bed multiple times only to be outright refused by you, and so he kept his things in this separate room. And it wasn’t explicitly off-limits, your captor never actually telling you that you couldn’t venture in. And so here you are, opening up the tall, wooden cabinet in the corner of the room and immediately sucking in a sharp breath at what you find.

You’d known Keigo had stalked you, the confession slipping from his lips early on into your captivity and the evidence difficult to deny.

(How else could he have known all your preferences before you ever voice them, knowing the way you like your morning drink, the products you use in the shower, hell, even the way you sleep – getting the pillows you like, pajamas similar to your own, even the type of sheet you prefer.)

You’d known, sure, but this – this is something else entirely. The cabinet’s housing a variety of items that send a chill down your spine because they’re yours.

An old bottle of perfume sits on the corner, the brand name smudged off from wear, and you bite your lip as you notice it’s still got just a bit left, though not nearly the amount you remember when it’d gone missing a few months ago. Your nose scrunches at the thought of him using your perfume, and bile rises in the back of your throat as you start imagining exactly how it’d been used, for what purpose and how often for that much to be gone.

There’s a few old lip balms sitting there, organized by flavor – cherry at the right, then melon, then mint, then peach and coconut. You don’t bother looking at them closely, too nervous to find signs of usage from someone other than you. (Which is good: the mint flavored Chapstick’s missing a chunk, with what looks like teeth marks sunken into the material.)

There’s an old hairbrush you thought you’d left at a friend’s place, still a few tufts of hair left between the bristles, though something seems to be crusted against the handle, and you wince at the thought of what that could possibly be. You’re scared, really, your heart screaming at you to stop searching, begging you to not look deeper because you don’t want to know what else he’s stolen from you, but your mind urges you to keep going, some sort of sick urge to know exactly what he’s taken, why he’s taken it.

(Though, you think you already know – the way he leans in close to smell you when he thinks he’s being subtle is telling, as is the way he has you sort out your used period products into a separate waste container, telling you that it's because the pads he gives you are compostable. You’ve seen the way the bags linger, though, staying in his bathroom, blood sometimes sitting under his nails when he emerges, eyes dilated and licking his lips at you.)

But as soon as you spot the photographs, you crumble.

Of course you’d known he was stalking you, following your every move and watching you at your most vulnerable, but somehow this is worse – there’s dozens of them, stacked neatly in piles that you can’t even begin to understand. Leafing through them with shaking fingers, they only seem to get worse and worse, images of you laying on your couch, cooking, doing your makeup, changing into your bathrobe, sleeping, and oh god, there’s even one of you on your bed, legs spread and fingers thrusting and rubbing and oh god you’re going to be sick-

The photographs fall from your fingertips as you shakily take a few steps back, the sound of the front door opening and Keigo’s call of I’m home making panic swim in your veins. He’s quick to come find you, asking you in a voice that’s edging on concerned where you are, but when he steps into his bedroom and spots you against the far wall, hands covering your mouth and the wooden door open and askew, Keigo’s clenching his teeth, jaw working.

Oh, is all he has to say, and it snaps you out of your horror.

Oh? That’s it? That’s fucking it, Keigo? What – what is this? You’re sick, a sick freak! Why do you have my stuff? What’s wrong with you? You’re yelling, pushing yourself further against the wall, and he can only frown, irritation and worry eating away at him because god, hearing you so upset is physically hurting him but there’s nothing he can do.

You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s, uh… He trails off, mind racing and panicking as he tries to think of what to say, but you don’t let the silence sit for long.

There’s something wrong with you, you’re a fucking monster! You think you’re a hero? Stalking some poor civilian, stealing her shit, photographing her while she’s sleeping? You’re disgusting, a horrible, twisted, sick creep! Stay away from me!

You’re crawling backwards away from him as he comes towards you, his hands in front of him as a sign of peace. You’re crying, he can see, and it only makes his chest ache more, shame and self-loathing away at him because you’re right – he’s sick in the head, he knows it, but he can’t help it.

I know, I know, calm down, you’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t stop crying, angel –

It's the wrong thing to say and he immediately knows it, because you give him a glare that makes something sharp dig into his heart, so much so that he physically clutches at his chest, wincing and averting his eyes from yours.

I hate you, Keigo, you whisper, and it makes something ugly come from his throat, a mix between a gasp and a whimper. I hate you I hate you I hate you.

He’s frozen for a moment, before swallowing, nodding his head and blinking the tears out of his eyes. I know, he starts, before turning on his heel and walking towards the doorway to the bedroom. I know you hate me, but you’re stuck with me.

And with that he walks to the front door, slamming it behind him and leaving the apartment empty. You stay curled up on the ground for a few minutes, still crying and hiccupping, the influx of emotion making your head ache. You’d been here for weeks now, and you thought you’d moved on from these crying episodes, from these emotional outbursts, but something about the photos had opened the floodgates.

After another ten minutes, you shakily get up, still rubbing at your eyes and avoiding looking at the wooden cabinet. You all but sprint to your own bed – the bed he gave you, at least – and curl up on top of it, letting your eyes shut and exhaustion fall over you. It’s not until you wake a few hours later that you notice Keigo still hasn’t returned home yet.

That was odd – he’s not on shift, and it was the middle of the night by now. Where was he? Shaking your head, flashes of the photographs race through your head, forcing you to stop thinking of Keigo. The night is quiet as you make yourself something small to eat – a piece of bread and a small amount of the low-fat butter Keigo eats, the apartment still eerily quiet.

You fall into a restless slumber soon after, your dreams filled with the sensation of something – someone – watching over your sleeping form.

When you awake, there’s still no sign of him – everything’s quiet and empty, and you bite your lip, equal parts relieved that he’s nowhere in sight but also slightly concerned. The feeling looms over you as the day slips away, his presence still gone. It’s not until two days later that Keigo finally returns home, and by that point the paranoia at his absence leaves you perking up when you hear the faint jingling of keys.

You’re immediately on your feet, practically tripping as you run to the front door, eager for him to return, eager to not be all alone and scared – something you’d realized about a day ago. You’d actually been afraid of his absence. Perhaps it was survival, wanting to make sure you had enough food and someone with the locks to all the keys that’d be able to let you out, or perhaps it was that you needed him. Maybe you needed some human contact, the total silence and your inability to contact anyone driving you stir crazy.

Regardless, you wait with eager anticipation as Keigo opens the door, those yellow eyes immediately catching yours, his expression carefully neutral though you can see something behind the practiced apathy. It’s relief, you think, and something else – something more desperate, something more vulnerable, something that makes you launch yourself into his arms, nearly knocking the wind out of him as he stares wildly down at you, shock written all across his face.

He’d expected that you’d be relieved that he came home, happy to have your source of food and care back, but not this excited – he swallows, frantically trying to not focus on the way your body is pressing against his and how he can feel all of you, instead letting his arms hesitantly wrap around you, not wanting to scare you.

You’re saying his name, he realizes, and he furrows his brows, closing his eyes and letting the sound ring through his ears. It’s wrong to be enjoying your clearly distraught state and he knows it, but he can’t help it – you’ve never initiated physical contact like this before, and is it really such a crime to be enjoying it?

I’m here, angel, ‘m here, he tells you, petting a hand over your hair and letting you squeeze him tighter. Please never leave me again, Keigo, please!

You’re begging him, he realizes, and it forces him to hug you just a bit tighter, his wings coming down to join the hug to. Closing his eyes again, Keigo lets out a slow, deep sigh, relishing in the way you’re clinging to him for comfort, begging him to never leave you for a moment.

And as he whispers a small I’m yours, I’ll never leave you again, you can only nod against his chest, disgusted with yourself for this display of your dependence on him. Because really, when had you become so fond of your captor? The photographs are still on the ground in his bedroom, all the things he's stolen from you sitting in that damned cabinet, but you find yourself not caring.

As you breathe in the now familiar smell of his cologne, hear his heart pounding away in his chest, you find that you don’t care about anything, really – because perhaps what he’s been saying along is really true.

Maybe you are in need of protection, needing him to provide for you. Because you’d been left alone for three days, and what do you have to show for it? Panic, loneliness, fear that he’d left you behind? Maybe you really are just as weak as he makes you out to be – and as you slowly pull back from the hug, you find yourself ever so briefly being thankful for him.

Thankful that you’ve finally, finally found where you belong: by Keigo’s side, letting him fawn over you and keep you locked up like some prized pet.

OVERALL DANGER:

6/10

Keigo is less dangerous and more paranoid. He has so many alter egos and warring identities that once you come along, encouraging him to just be Keigo around you rather than Pro Hero Hawks or PLF Hawks, he can’t let you slip away.

There’s something about you that doesn’t leave his mind – perhaps it’s your mannerisms, your looks, the way you speak, how you walk and how you smell and how you think. Maybe it’s some twisted form of fate, or some long-repressed part of his quirk that’s beginning him to finally find a companion, a mate, someone to share himself with.

Regardless, once Keigo’s obsession forms, he’s a lost cause – he’s thinking of you constantly, unable to stop his mind from wandering into idle thoughts of what you’re doing or how you’re feeling. He finds himself unconsciously trailing behind you, watching over you from above with those sharp eyes of his narrowed in on your form, studying and memorizing the curves of your body underneath your clothing, the way you walk ingrained into him so deeply that when he closes his eyes all he sees is you.

His paranoia grows as his obsession does, too, the worrying realization that you’re weak making it difficult for him to ever part from you, anxiety swimming in his gut because what if you get hurt and he isn’t there to help you? What if you get into trouble and he isn’t there to swoop and be your savior?

(Some sick, twisted part of him almost wishes you would run into trouble, just so he could put himself into the position of being your knight in shining armor, of making you swoon for him, feeling the way you’d be so very grateful and want to make it up to him in any way you could. He forces the thought down, disgusted with himself for fantasizing about you being in danger, but during long nights where he tosses and turns in his too-empty and too-cold bed, the thought of you looking at him in such awe and gratitude makes something warm, wet, and shameful throb to life between his legs.)

He does eventually kidnap you, yes, but as time passes you’ll find that slowly you’ll stop caring about how he keeps you trapped by his side, how he controls your every day life, how he forces you into all sorts of loungey, comfortable clothing that always smells like him. Because really, Keigo is awfully pathetic – he thinks he’s good at hiding just how badly you affect him, but you can see the way he perks up when you enter a room, looking so hopefully and lovesick as he gazes at you that it almost hurts.

You’ll be able to tell how his heart is racing in his chest when you get close to him, his breath turning ragged and his palms so sweaty that when he wipes them on his pants they leave wet marks. It’s pathetic, sad, cute, and as time passes with Keigo as the only person in your life, slowly you’ll begin wondering if being loved by him isn’t bad.

Is what Keigo can give you – protection, adoration, reliability, devotion – really so bad? Is it so bad to just be loved?

And Keigo will be there waiting for you once you finally come around, his hands trembling as he hugs you, burying his face into your neck and you swear you feel something wet against your skin, his tears tickling you as his shoulders shake. He just loves you, and how cruel can you be to reject him, to leave him without the only person he’s ever cared for?

How could you be such a monster?

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #hawks x reader #_lee's profiles #_keigo takami #_bnha

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spdrslayr · 11 months

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001. atsv headcanons ! ★ jonathon ohnn & miguel o’hara both falling for the reader…

⁀➷ srcs... masterlist . rules . intro .

| synopsis, ୨♡୧ for the sake of this scenario, miguel and johnathon are working for alchemax in the same universe at the same time. miguel is a geneticist and johnathon is a physicist. you, my dear reader, are the cute receptionist!🥺

★ tags -> gender neutral reader; au; miguel o'hara; spider-man 2099; johnathon ohnn; the spot; love triangle; jealousy; fluff; etc...

★ warnings -> jealousy, slightly implied age gap, cursing

★ w.c -> 1,028

| xox, mei! ୨♡୧ -> woo my first post yay!! anyways requests are open for johnathon ohnn, miguel o'hara, and hobie brown if y'all are interested <3 my masterlist n rules are still a wip so stay tuned for that!

both men love their work but it still stresses the hell out of them. they’d enter and leave work exhausted. but then you started working at alchemax. you - with your bright smile and glittering eyes. most of the scientists and associates were drawn to you, but miguel and johnathon were on a whole nother level.

johnathon definitely fell first. it was daunting when someone he found attractive was being so sweet to him. jonathon’s usually too stuck in his own little world to care about such frivolities, so you were something special.

★ he’s been late so many times because he’d chat with you for too long at your desk. at first he stumbled on his words with you, struggling to maintain eye contact while simultaneously trying not to stare too hard. now you’re one of the few people he feels comforting rambling to, because he knows you’re listening ★ johnathon loves it when you’d call him “doctor,” despite him insisting on his first name. sensing that air of respect from you makes him feel good about himself. ★ he takes great pride in making you laugh and smile with every chance he gets. this physicist has a vast arsenal of cheesy jokes, bad puns, and cute pick-up lines. ★ he visits you throughout the day whenever he can, and tries to muster up the courage to have lunch with you. you’re young and gorgeous and out of his league but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. and then miguel o'hara came back from his business trip.

miguel didn’t care for the last receptionist. she was rude and lazy and got his name wrong. so it was a pleasant surprise when he was greeted by you instead.

★ at first, your peppiness was too much for him, especially in the morning. he’d brush off your attempts at conversation and only mumble back to you when needed. such is the way of the resident grump at alchemax. but eventually, you wormed your way into his heart by remembering how he likes his coffee and staying up to help him on late nights in the lab. ★ miguel had to admit, you were a joy to have around. …and very very nice to look at. miguel's had a few serious relationships in the past, but they never ended well. since then he’s only indulged in one-night stands and temporary hook-ups. but he refused to look at you so fleetingly. ★ miguel started bringing you expensive bouquets of flowers for your desk, along with sweet little notes. he’s obsessed with the scent of your vanilla perfume. he wants to be your hero, there to open every door, pull out every chair, and drive away any creep. for him, creeps include johnathon.

johnathon wasn’t concerned when he’d see other scientists and workers flirt with you. he wholeheartedly believed you two had a special connection that couldn’t be replicated. but seeing miguel turn you into a blushing stuttering mess proved him wrong. there was competition closer than he thought, and if he didn’t act quickly, he’d lose you for good.

★ johnathon felt deeply insecure in comparison to miguel. dr. o’hara’s movie star face & dreamy hair made him feel like crap. ★ miguel clearly had way more experience in dating, always flirting with you so smoothly. johnathon on the other hand, is pretty sure he’s stuck in the friendzone with you. so he decided to experiment with bolder methods of winning your heart. ★ jonathon’s been more direct, showering you with compliments and buying you lunch whenever he could. he made it abundantly clear that he was single and that he liked you very much. you were his favorite person at alchemax, and for good reason.

miguel honestly thinks johnathon’s annoying as fuck. once john accidentally spilled hot coffee onto miguel on a very bad day, and he’s been bitter ever since. in the past johnathon would be friendly, but miguel would brush him off. who the hell is this lanky ass nerd and why is he hovering over him in HIS lab?

★ now he’s wondering why the geek is messing with his love now. it pisses him off, not just because johnathon knows he feels the same about you, but how john makes you happier than he’s ever seen you be. miguel’s flirty, and funny in his own, stubborn way, but he lacked johnathon’s endearing dorky nature that had you hooked. ★ miguel is soooo grumpy lmao ★ really johnny is such a silly sweet guy while miguel, mr. give everything 1000% over here is fighting for his life. it took miguel a whole ass week to come up with a joke as good as johnathon’s that made you laugh your ass off. my guy is trying waaay too hard.

at first, miguel confronts johnathon kindly. he’s sympathetic and straight to the point - they both hold the same intentions towards you, but only one of them can win. he can tell that johnathon’s a good guy, with a big heart, so he’d understand… right?

★ “i’m in love with them, dr. ohnn. this isn’t just a silly crush. so either help me, or please refrain from getting in my way.” ★ “no, i’m good.” ★ “...you’re WHAT?”

war!!!!! miguel is a bitch to johnathon. dr. octavius has to give johnathon advice on how to win you over and how to fend off miguel. he’s gotten a lot better at brushing off miguel’s judgemental comments and acting unbothered by them.

although it’s not like johnathon isn’t cunty either. when he makes you laugh sometimes it’s because he’s making fun of miguel behind his back. he has a killer miguel impression that puts the original to shame.

★ “ugh, my shoulders are too broad and muscular. it’s so hard being so fit.” ★ “johnny!! he’s coming this way!” ★ “i work out every single part of my body at the gym. i do forehead pushups to keep my hairline in check.” ★ “JOHNNY-”

as long as a certain collider project goes swimmingly, and a radioactive spider stays in it’s fucking lane, you’ll end up with one of them.

…unless…? ;)

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv miguel #johnathon ohnn #jonathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn #the spot #johnathon ohnn x reader #jonathan ohnn x reader #the spot x reader #atsv the spot #atsv #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader

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serxinns · 3 months

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Mocha bunny reader Headcanons!

A yandere class 1a (plus maybe some teachers) x reader

This fic was inspired by my beloved friend and mom @lady-ashfade and her strawberry bunny reader here

Info: Your quirk was a bunny but you were a mocha bunny your ability was speed, Strength in both arms and legs , amazing sense of smell and have super hearing and sharp claws you have 3 forms your normal form (basically a human form) your rabbit form when ur basically a whole rabbit and a gremlin form when ur half rabbit half bun but is smol

•Your classmates are obsessed and abored with everything you do they instantly fell in love with the 1st sight of you

•They would fight over about who would pet your ears or touch your fur or even your little tail (you bite denki hard for pulling it)

• Izuku would research about bunnies and you and would ask you millions of questions about you and the bunnies Ochako and mina would pinch your cheeks too hard which u had to told them off about but dismissed cause you were too cute at times but if you actually wanted them to back off they'll pout whenever you did something cute in front of bakugo he will either call you carrot muncher or cotton bitch and blushes to look away

•You and kota and also kota's bunny are bestie in when nobody is around you and kotas bunny will talk about EVERYTHING even bunny related stuff how hard it is and what delicious food are there

Kota's rabbit: *Speaks,

Reader in the bunny form: THATS WHAT IM SAYING these people have no respect for bunnies

Kotas rabbit: squeak

Reader: Woah woah that's some strong language you have

there dude don't let your owner hear that

•Kota is like your mom's friend since he knows EVERYTHING about rabbits he makes sure you eat the food you need and make sure to slow you down on treats he even makes izukus job easier don't be surprise if these two team up

•Sato will still make sweets for pastries for you but puts ingredients and stuff you like or ur tolerable with and out bunny like puns on there

•Aizawa is the only person you can trust to be in your bunny form he would invite you to cuddle in his sleeping bag or create a best by him so y'all can sleep and cuddle with each other whenever your classmates are overwhelming you Aizawa will lecture the students whenever they give you a hard time

•Mic will make sure to lower his voice because of your sensitive hearing he will make funny bunny puns at you which you'll groan at but he doesn't care he'll spoil you with gifts and hugs and he's VERY overprotective if anyone talk to you in a mean way their eardrums are about to be broken beyond repair

• Mirko is just in AWE she's so glad there's another person with a rabbit-like quirk so it's easier for her to teach you her skills she'll always give you tips about your abilities and encourage you to use every one of them she also give you tips about being a bunny hybrid

Bonus headcanons

•When your Classmates discover you make little squeaks in your sleep the class was holding their selves BACK from either squealing or screaming they all whisper and yelled at themselves to be quiet some tried pulling out their phone but Iida warned them not to since the flash were alert you awake

•Mirko LOVES to talk about you everywhere from her fans to her coworkers even to the number 1 hero Shes always mentions you she even imagines you working at her agency when you grow up you in a copy of her hero costume she's just dying of cuteness

•Denki and Seek love using cheesy bunny flirts to tease you which makes them giggle every time it gets annoying when they spam text over it (denki)

•You and Tsuyu are besties you both chat about your favorite foods and facts about your quirks y'all exchange baby photos of each other and Tsuyu is just dying when she sees you in a cute outfit ur little ears perk up your cute smiling face showing your little tail she keeps these photos to her self tho

•tokoyami is also a great person to hang out as well the two of you would often hang out at a park he would always get nervous about asking you questions that are bunny related afraid that he'll might say something offensive (poor bb) he even let's you sleep in his dorm room whenever you wanted to et sway from your classmates overbearing nature he would even bring snacks for you

•The bakusquad and dekusquad fight over who gets to baby you more which turns into a war when the other students join in Shoji says he wants a turn with you Momo offers to go shopping with her while Hakagure tries to steal you away and attempts to run off it was chaos in the end Aizawa heard and they all got detention while Aizawa was comforting you putting you in your bunny form while having a proud smirk on his face

#yandere bnha #tw yandere #yandere ua #tw obsessive behavior #yandere x reader #yandere class 1a #yandere mha #platonic yandere #yandere mirko #yandere aizawa #yandere present mic

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morallyinept · 4 months

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A list of all my favourite JOEL MILLER Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

PART 15

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

The Not So Invisible String & A Broken Ankle, Karma Rules - @stylesispunk No Outbreak!Joel

Something Only You Can Give & I'll Be Home For Christmas Series - @punkshort

Consequences - @liltangerineart

Ain't No Rest For The Wicked Series - @corazondebeskar Featuring Tess Servopoulos

Psycho Series - @hellishjoel BratTamer!Joel

Mr Grinch - @integra1127grimmreaper

How The Cookie Crumbles - @egcdeath

Pins & Needles Series - @joels-shitty-puns PostOutbreak!Joel

Mechanic Joel - @dionysusinparis Mechanic!Joel

Visions Of Sugar Plums - @dark-scape Dark AU

Blackmail Series - @milla-frenchy Featuring Javier Peña

But, Baby It's Cold Outside - @iamasaddie

My Sunshine - @amyispxnk

The Miller Christmas - @creedslove

Unwrap Me - @tightjeansjavi

The Perfect Bunny & A Gentleman - @talaok

Muffins & Jam - @noisynaia

Nightmare Before Christmas - @katiexpunk Dark!Joel

Fuzzy Socks - @ladamedusoif

Love Shack - @pascalispretty

A Very Miller Christmas - @yeollie-plz

Santa Joel-y - @romanarose

Happily Ever After - @xdaddysprincessxx

The Reason For The Season - @prolix-yuy

A Heart For Melting - @joelscurls

Frosting - @joelsgreys

Modern Day Hero - @flightlessangelwings

Patrolling On Christmas - @nerdieforpedro

Saints & Sinners - @loquaciousferret Featuring Javier Peña

Candlelight - @sweetercalypso

Nasty - @healmydesires

Need That Charles Dickens - @janaispunk

Playing Santa - @jksprincess10

Freeze-Thaw - @covetyou

Raw - @gingerlurk Featuring Ezra

Backstage Invitation - @itsharleystuff

Give - @goodwithcheese

Vampire!Joel Series - @toxicanonymity Vampire!Joel

Mother Who Provides - @pedge-page Sub!Joel

Symphony Series - @maggiemayhemnj OFC

Secret Santa - @tieronecrush DBF!Joel

The Art Of Breaking - @corazondebeskar Dark!Joel

Cry Harder - @romana-after-dark Dark!Joel

#pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #jole miller tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us fic #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #jett's fic recs #fic recs

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captainsophiestark · 6 months

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Happy Ending

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Day 22 Prompt: "Who takes care of you?"

Summary: What if Luke had come by to see Y/N, his pre-betrayal best friend and SO, instead of Annabeth between books 3 and 4?

Word Count: 4,189

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: I really loved the vibes of this post by @m4gp13 so this is very loosely inspired by it, even though the main body of the story doesn't have much to do with it lol

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, staring at the piles of boxes on the floor of my dorm room. The spring semester of my second year of college was just coming to a close, and I still had a lot to do to be ready for everything after it finished. I was moving into my own apartment for the summer, and needed to move from the dorm room to my new apartment. As soon as that was over, I'd planned a visit to Camp Half-Blood, the training camp for heroes I kept going back to, even though I was technically an adult.

I needed to pack everything in my dorm, move it to my apartment, and then be able to unpack everything I'd need for a few weeks visiting camp. This packing job would need to be strategically worthy of Athena.

I'd just barely managed to psych myself up to get started when a knock came at my door. I huffed a sigh, but I really didn't mind the distraction all that much.

"Coming!" I called. I glanced out the peep hole, then froze solid when I saw Luke Castellan staring back at me.

My heart stopped dead in my chest. I looked again and saw he had no monsters with him, at least not visibly, but I couldn't understand why he would come here without them.

Luke had been one of my closest friends in the world since we met as kids, on the run together from our mutually shitty families. We'd met first, then found Thalia and Annabeth after. Luke and I were the same age, and we'd been thick as thieves since day one, Hermes pun intended. As we'd gotten older, a small crush I'd had on Luke had grown massive, and luckily for me he'd returned my feelings. We'd been happily dating and in love ever since, until two summers ago, when he'd betrayed me and every single one of our friends and joined Kronos.

I'd barely talked to him since. We only had contact once and a while, and every time, it went the same way. I was hurt, he was apologetic but not willing to change any of his decisions. Me and the rest of Camp fought him and his monsters, and I tried not to fall apart at the loss of the love of my life.

The distraction provided by college had been a serious, serious relief.

But now, Luke was here. In the middle of space where I very intentionally avoided thinking about him, on my doorstep for whatever reason. And I had no idea what to do.

"Y/N? I know you're in there. I'm here under a flag of truce. I just want to talk."

Just like that, any desire to duck and hide crumbled. The rational part of my brain screamed at me that he could be lying, that this might just be a trap, but I ignored it. After everything we'd been through, if Luke said he wanted to talk, I wanted to hear him out.

I opened the door, and Luke's shoulders sagged with relief when he saw me. I wanted to dart forward and wrap him in a hug, something I hadn't been able to do in two years, but I held myself back. Luke shifted a little from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward, so after a second's hesitation I stepped to the side.

"Would you like to come in?"

He gave me a suspicious look, like he thought it was a trap or a trick or something. My heart shattered in my chest. How had things gone this wrong, that we stood on opposite sides of the door as basically strangers?

"My house is a mess, because I'm in the middle of packing up to move, but... if you want to talk, Luke, I feel like the hallway isn't gonna be the best place to do it."

He gave me a curt nod, not quite meeting my eyes as he walked past me into my apartment. I glanced down the hallway, taking one last look to make sure we didn't have any lingering monsters, but things were deserted. I sighed and went back into my apartment, closing the door behind me.

I found Luke hovering in the space between the kitchen and the living room, surveying things with a strange look on his face. I moved toward him carefully, not getting too close in case I spooked him.

"Do you want some tea or something? I haven't packed my electric kettle yet-"

"I think tea might take longer than the five minutes I promised."

I turned to look at Luke, raising one eyebrow in challenge, a little bit of our old rapport back. He shifted his weight around and glanced towards the door, then met my eyes again.

"Luke... is some giant monster going to burst through my door in five minutes? Or an army of small monsters, or anything under that general monster-army umbrella?"

"What? No, no, there's... no. I'm here under a flag of truce. There's nothing coming to hurt you, and when I leave... I'll leave."

"Okay then," I said, deciding not to comment on just how shaken and pale Luke looked, at least not right now. "Then I'm giving you a pass on the five minutes. And electric kettles take like two seconds anyway, seriously. They're magical."

Luke huffed, shaking his head as an incredulous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. My heart squeezed, but I made myself move towards the kitchen and act like things were normal.

"Take a seat, Luke. Or come pick your tea."

Luke took the second option, and my heart doubled its speed when I felt him hovering behind me, closer than we'd been in a long time if you didn't count combat. He leaned over my shoulder to point to the bag of black tea on my counter, and I nodded as I poured the hot water into our cups. I dropped two teabags in each of our drinks, then turned to Luke with a smile.

He stood a little more than a foot from me, and he took the cup from my hands carefully, like he didn't want this bubble of peace and normalcy to burst either. I stared into his beautiful, bright blue eyes, a smile growing on my face again despite myself. I'd missed this. A lot.

The moment lasted another few seconds, and then Luke cleared his throat and looked away. He took a tentative sip of his tea, then looked at me again, his face deadly serious.

"I don't know how to say this. I... I learned some things recently, about some plans I wasn't aware of before."

He paused and took another sip of his tea, and his hand shook a little as he brought the mug away from his lips. Shock coursed through my body as I realized Luke was scared.

"Kronos, he- he's going to use me. He's going to use me to take over the world. This summer... he's going to use me like a stepping stone, until he gets so much power he's unstoppable."

"Luke... what are you saying?"

His eyes had wandered to stare holes in the wall of my kitchen while he'd talked, but now they snapped back to me, wide and full of urgency.

"I'm saying I want to run away. I want us to run away, like the old days. Before... before he gets the chance to carry out his plan."

I stared at Luke for a few minutes, then shook my head, scoffing and pushing past him into the living room of my house. I paced a little, trying to make sense of what he'd just told me. What he'd just asked of me.

"Luke... I don't know what to say!" I finally admitted, completely honest as I turned back to him. He watched me, his expression guarded. "I don't... I don't think I can just run away. Not from the life I've managed to build, not from our friends still here and risking their lives!"

"So that's it, then?" he asked, taking a few steps forward, his tone angry. "Your answer's no?"

I huffed a laugh, staring at anything in the room except for Luke and trying to think. My brain was working a million miles an hour, but I still needed a little bit of time to think things through. But I wasn't sure I had time.

"Okay, Luke, can we sit down for a minute? Actually talk about this?" I said, taking slow steps towards him. I set my mug down on the nearest table, then reached out to gently rest my hands on his. A storm of emotions raged behind his eyes, but he didn't stop me or pull away. "This is a lot to take in all at once. Can we work through this together?"

His jaw worked like he was holding back some retort, but he let me pull him along towards the couch. Slowly, together, we sank down onto the cushions. I only pulled one hand back, and made sure our knees rested against each other, hoping it would do something to help keep Luke grounded.

"I don't want to run," I said simply, meeting his eyes. He opened his mouth, looking ready with an outburst again, but I continued before he could. "But Luke, think about it. Where are we gonna go that he doesn't find you, especially if he wants to? Monsters can sniff us out. We'd never, ever be able to live another day without looking over our shoulders."

Luke's shoulders sagged, and he shook his head miserably as he stared at the half-full mug in his hand.

"Then there's no hope."

"That's not what I said. And it's also not true." Luke scoffed, shooting me a look out of the corner of his eye. I looked right back. "If you don't want to follow through on what Kronos is asking of you, why not just come back with me? To Camp, to my somewhat normal life. I have an apartment with space for two. You could even enroll with me next semester, if you wanted to."

Luke shook his head. He pursed his lips as he raised his head to meet my eyes again.

"And let the Olympians continue exploiting us? Let them keep destroying people and lives because we don't matter to them?"

I huffed a sigh. "Look, I'm not their biggest fan either, but right now it seems like it's 'let Kronos kill you' or 'stop fighting the Olympians'."

Luke shook his head again, more energized this time, more angry. He stared at the wall ahead of us, the same hurt and bitterness I'd seen from him over the years burning in his eyes.

"It's just not right. There should be something we can do. Something that isn't Kronos, but isn't letting the Olympians win."

And just like that, a lightbulb went off in my head.

"Luke... what if there was a way we could do that?"

****************

That night, Luke and I stayed up until almost two in the morning brainstorming and working out the details of my plan. When we finally decided to get some sleep, he stayed with me, and curling up in the same tiny twin bed, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, had me more at peace and ease than I had been in a long, long time.

The next morning, we finalized a few things over breakfast. Then, there was nothing left to do but put our plan into action.

Luke stayed in the apartment, tasked with keeping his head down and finishing packing for me, since I had other places I had to be. Namely, Camp Half-Blood. A little earlier than I'd talked about with Chiron, and hopefully, before the place was crawling with campers for the summer.

Thankfully, it didn't take me too long to get to Camp. I arrived a little after lunch and found the place expectedly deserted. From the top of the hill, I could see some of the year-rounders moving around the lake. I tried to keep them from noticing me as I headed straight for the Big House.

I paused just outside the front door to steel my nerves one last time, then marched inside. I found Chiron and Mr. D sitting together, apparently deep in conference. They both looked up when they noticed me, matching looks of surprise on their faces (although Chiron's had a noticeably happier edge to it).

"Y/N! We weren't expecting you for another few weeks-"

"I'm not staying for long. Something just came up that I needed to talk to you about right away. To both of you, actually, especially Mr. D."

He raised a bored eyebrow in my direction but otherwise didn't move. Chiron motioned to a chair at the table.

"By all means, please."

"That's alright, I think I'll stand," I said. I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and straightening my spine. I would not back down, wouldn't leave until I'd succeeded. Luke and I's future depended on it.

I took a moment to make very intentional, determined eye contact with Mr. D. His other eyebrow raised.

"I'm here to bargain for a pardon for Luke Castellan."

Silence. Both Chiron and Mr. D just stared at me for a few long moments, then turned to look at each other. Chiron looked concerned, but Mr. D burst out laughing.

"He's a traitor and an enemy of Olympus! This has all been very boring and ridiculous, and a waste of our time. Get out."

Mr. D's last word had a firey threat behind it, but I didn't flinch.

"You and the rest of the Olympians are perfectly aware what a threat Kronos presents. Everybody's getting scared, and they should be. He's got a plan for returning to his Titan form, the one he had before he was defeated the first time, before Zeus cut him apart and cast him into Tartarus. And it's a plan that he can definitely make succeed.

"Luke knows all about this plan. Obviously. And he's willing to defect and tell you all about it, so we can stop it before it happens. But you have to give him a complete pardon, sworn on the River Styx by Zeus."

Mr. D snorted again, this time raising from his chair and taking a few threatening steps towards me. I still didn't back down.

"Y/N, listen," Chiron interrupted, shuffling forward a little bit to stand partially in between me and Mr. D. "If you have information that could save Olympus and the camp-"

"Oh, I have some. Just like Chris Rodriguez had some. But Luke has all of it. And you're not getting any of it without giving him a pardon first."

"Or we could force it out of you before finding your little boyfriend and doing the same to him," said Mr. D, his tone light but his eyes blazing. Chiron started to step in again, but I spoke up before he got the chance.

"You haven't been able to find him this long, you won't be able to find him now. And anybody who knows anything about interrogations knows that torture just plain and simple doesn't work for getting information." Mr. D grunted, but we both knew I had him there. "Besides, if Luke gets his pardon, that means more than just getting all the information from Kronos' former right hand man. It also means that Kronos loses said right hand man, who's been organizing and leading a lot of the work so far."

Chiron and Mr. D shared a look, and I tried not to let it show just how much my heart was racing. For the first time since I'd walked in here, I actually felt a glimmer of hope that my plan might succeed. Chiron turned back to me, the worried look still on his face.

"Y/N... what makes you so confident that Luke wants to defect?"

"He sought me out," I answered simply, trying to dance around his location at least a bit. "He's realizing quickly just how bad Kronos would and could be, and he's scared. Terrified. He wants a way out, so when he found me, he asked me to run away with him. I suggested trying this plan first, mostly so I don't have to leave behind everyone else I love. But also because, this way, you might stand a chance against Kronos that you wouldn't have if we'd left without offering information."

The conversation continued for almost another hour, centered mostly around Mr. D making threats and, when I didn't back down, reminding me that I was trying to demand something of Zeus. He made plenty of good points, but I'd thought through all the ways this plan could go terribly, painfully wrong with Luke before I'd come here. I wasn't going to give in, for anything.

Finally, after restating my points and my argument a few times, Mr. D agreed to bring my request to Mount Olympus. I waited anxiously in the Big House with Chiron, whose brow remained deeply creased the entire time. I didn't engage, intentionally avoiding the conversation he looked like he wanted to have, but I saw him watching me out of the corner of my eye.

I started to get worried as the evening came, but finally, Mr. D reappeared. The first time he'd delivered his news, I honestly hadn't believed him. I asked him to repeat himself, which he rolled his eyes over, but the words were the same. Somehow, by some miracle, I'd managed to succeed.

Zeus was willing to give Luke his pardon in exchange for information and defecting.

I wasn't a complete idiot, so made sure the terms were clear when Mr. D brought me to Olympus to witness the oath. The words covered any retaliation, punishment, or harm that might come to Luke, and completely prevented it. Zeus spoke the words and the sky rumbled with lightning. I tried not to shake in relief or from the adrenaline dump as I bowed and promised he wouldn't regret his decision. Hermes shot me a grateful look on my way out, and I returned his nod. He'd been awful to Luke, but we were aligned in not wanting to see him dead, and I got the feeling Hermes had been helpful in pleading my case.

When we returned to the Big House, I headed for the door as quickly as possible, promising to bring Luke back with me in a week when I'd been planning to return anyway. I still had to move out and then move in to a new place again, and Luke had assured me that week of time wouldn't cost the war.

I raced back home, breaking almost every traffic law in the process, but I didn't care at all. I called out to Luke from the hallway, so he wouldn't be scared when I flung the door open, then rushed to wrap him in a giant hug. We sank to the floor together, crying in relief, and stayed like that for a long, long time.

The next week felt like a dream. Luke and I finished packing up my old apartment, then moved together into the new one, which we'd started calling 'ours'. We had to duck monsters a few times, and Luke was still in significant danger, but this time we were on the same side. As we settled into our new place on the last night before we were supposed to head back to camp, I quite literally couldn't have been happier.

It was a little strange returning to camp with Luke, but I quickly got over my own concerns when I saw how tense he was. I held his hand the whole way in, and thankfully, we'd still managed to get here before most of the summer campers. Luke and I sat shoulder to shoulder in the Big House while he told Mr. D and Chiron everything about Kronos and his operation. It took hours, and I could tell Luke struggled to get a lot of it out. But he did.

It had taken long enough that we decided to stay the night, even though I could see Luke clearly didn't want to. We stayed in the Big House, and the next morning, we finished the last of the intel-sharing before heading back home.

Chiron stopped Luke on the way out the door with a hand on his shoulder and said he was so happy to have Luke back. Luke just nodded, but I squeezed his hands as I noticed a single tear making its way down his cheek as we left.

"You know..." I said as we climbed in the car. I was driving, and Luke stared determinedly out the window. "Chiron's probably not the only one who'd be happy to have you back. There might be some apology tour type-stuff, but for the most part... I think you'd get a warm welcome home."

Luke just gave a noncommittal grunt, and I let it go. That was a bridge we could cross later.

For now, we still had one final part of our plan to put into action.

The reason Luke had joined Kronos in the first place was because he'd been neglected by his Olympic parent, especially since his mortal parent had been in such a bad place. He'd discovered the hard way that Kronos was no better alternative, but the fact remained that the gods used their mortal children at best, and at worst completely ignored them for their entire lives.

We needed to find a third option, some middle ground way to make things better. So, we decided to be the change we wanted to see.

As legal adults with a newly moved-in apartment that had a decent amount of space, we had the power to make our home a space for demigods who had nowhere else to go. If their immortal parents were neglecting them and things weren't good with their mortal parent either, they could come to us. For a little while, or to stay for good. We made our own little sanctuary, then shared it with all the kids like us who'd needed it.

Over time, the operation expanded, and we moved into a bigger apartment with more space. Thanks in part to Luke and I, Camp Half-Blood won the war, and we were able to do even more once Kronos stopped being a threat. What had started as not much more than a dream of doing good had turned into a loud, busy, happy house with people constantly coming and going.

Which is how we'd ended up in an alleyway talking to a scared teenager, after helping defeat a monster who'd been bearing down on him.

"Who takes care of you?" asked Luke, a sympathetic and understanding frown on his face as we stood a little ways from the kid. We didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but we'd gotten good at spotting the signs of a young Half-Blood in distress and helping them.

"I take care of myself," the kid spit. I tried not to glance at Luke.

"We used to do that, too," I said, moving a little closer to Luke. "We both ran away from home, survived on the streets, although I guess we really took care of each other."

"Now, we take care of people like you," Luke continued, right where I'd left off. "Do you know what you are?"

The kid hesitated, then half shook his head. He at least had some idea, then.

"You're a Half-Blood," I said. "Half mortal, half immortal Olympian god."

"...What?"

"Look, I know it's a lot to process," said Luke. "But the longer the three of us sit in this alley, the more likely it is another monster's gonna come and pick a fight."

We managed to get the kid up and moving, heading back for our apartment. On the way, we explained more about the Olympians, and told him about Camp Half-Blood.

"It's a good place to get training, and to meet other Half-Bloods like you," I said. "A place for heroes."

"It's only one option, though," Luke added. The kid nodded, looking a little overwhelmed but excited as we stopped outside our apartment door.

"And... what's the other option?"

Luke and I shared a smile, then he pushed open the door to our apartment.

Inside, we were immediately greeted with a wave of noise and excitement. We'd left Ethan Nakamura, one of the Half-Bloods Luke had met away from camp, in charge, and he'd been leading the rest of our group in basic combat lessons.

"What... what is this place?"

"A place for normal kids who need somebody to take care of them," Luke answered. "You'll still get training, since monsters will always be trying to kill you."

"But we won't ever ask anything of you, other than to do your own damn dishes," I said. "No dangerous quests, no tribute to the gods. Just our own little makeshift family going through life together."

Luke put his arm around me, pulling me into his side and kissing my temple as Ethan noticed our newcomer and waved him over to join in the fun. Luke and I stayed where we were, watching the bubble of happiness we'd made together with smiles on our faces. We'd gone through hell and back to get here, but as far as I was concerned, every moment of pain had been worth it for Luke and I's happy ending.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Percy Jackson Taglist: @valkyriepirate

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deartouya · 1 year

Text

i like you a latte | denki kaminari.

denki kaminari's determined to make you fall in love with him, cheesy one-liners and all, even if it takes months and puts him in debt. little does he know he's already won you over, you just like watching him fumble.

pairing: denki kaminari x gn!barista!reader

word count: 1.3k

content: reader has a job!, mentions of food/eating, lots of fluff, denki's cheesy but it's fine bc he's cute

hehe do you like my very clever pun ?? i think writing this made me realize i'm a little in love with denki </3 he's a charming dork idk. written as part of @cup-of-fluff's time to shine collab !! ty so much for hosting ^-^ this was soso much fun to write,, im sorry for being a whole month late ;—;

You’re beginning to think Chargebolt doesn’t have any friends. At least, you would if you hadn’t seen him sitting at their crowded table—Red Riot, Alien Queen, Deku, Ingenium, Cellophane, even Dynamight makes the occasional, disgruntled, appearance—his elbows planted in their sides and smiles splitting their faces. Or a poorly hidden grin in Dynamight’s case. But, you reason, he must not like them very much with how much of his time is spent alone in the cafe. Always in the same spot, the same order, with the same barista: you.

So, he has friends. He’s just decided to spend all his precious free time drinking over-priced lattes and eating equally expensive cheese Danishes. Sometimes he brings a binder, thick with unorganized papers and what looks like incredibly important reports, but he never even opens it—too busy monopolizing your company and stretching over the little cafe table to get your attention.

You can’t really complain, though. He always attracts a crowd, even with an incredibly inconspicuous cap pulled over his eyes, which means more orders and more tips and more money. You also can’t deny that you’re just the tiniest bit amused with him, all with his cheesy smiles and jokes and flattery.

Which, he’s not nearly as skilled at as the press pretends. Pro Hero Chargebolt, with his bolstering reputation as a flirt with—reportedly—never-ending charm never fails to come up with the most nauseatingly cheesy café puns. Puns which have, regrettably, endeared you to the Pro.

“Just admit it, you’re in love with him! Y’know it’s healthy, everyone is in love with at least one member of class 1a,” Izumi’s wrought with faux consolation, “it’s human nature, inevitable even. And most people don’t have them sitting in the front of their shop every week.”

“I’m not in love with him,” you huff, sounding too much like a petulant child for your liking. Izumi’s tease isn’t new either, ever since Denki first showed up during one of your shared shifts, she's been insufferable.

“That’s not what your eyes say—they get all hazy and lovesick when he’s ordering,” Izumi says, voice high and sing-songy as she finishes clearing the last table, “and I think your chargebolt keychain says otherwise too.”

“You bought me that.” She doesn’t falter under your glare, though, smile only widening as she perches on the counter, chin cradled in her palms. “And you’re just hoping if he keeps coming around, he’ll bring Ingenium with him.”

A forlorn look suddenly passes over Izumi’s face as she remembers the one and only time he visited, a time she wasn’t even working, “and alas, it’s only happened once.”

“I’m not in love with him. He’s a good Pro Hero and I respect the work that he does.” She scoffs a laugh, earning a very pointed stare, “now, back to work—if you burn my muffins, I'm making you re-bake them.”

It ends the conversation—Izumi disappearing back into the kitchen, palms raised and facing you with a grin—but it settles deep and heavy in your mind. Her words repeat themselves to you throughout the day and into the next. You’d gotten used to Denki being there, to all his cheesy flirts and smiles. So used to them you’re not sure what a week would be like without them. Some selfish part of you hopes you never find out.

“They’ll work on you someday,” Denki catches your eye as you pass, the rest of the cafe quiet and empty. He’d been there since his morning patrol, entertaining the same blueberry muffin and attempting to fold his napkins into paper cranes. He was getting better at it despite the little stack of lopsided and half-formed birds.

He smiles, as bright as the dying sun streaming in through the cafe’s open windows. He watches you clear the table next to him, eyes trailing the slope of your nose and the subtle curve of your smile. His grin broadens when you scoff to hide your grin.

“Don’t you have t-shirts and headshots to sign, hero?” You can’t help the way you chew at your lip, fighting off the warmth bubbling there. He’s right, it’ll work on you, it is working on you. His voice calling you brew-tiful haunts you everytime you make a chai latte. He’s sunny and determined and you can’t help the way you relish the whole of his attention being focused on you. “You’ve had three tables staring at you the entire hour you’ve been here.”

“I’m not trying to woo them, I’m trying to woo you,” it’s a simple sentence, but it's the way he says it that gets to you. Sure and just a little exasperated—like it’s obvious he’d rather watch you clear tables for the next hour than anything else. “Is it working?”

Denki’s grinning again—wider, brighter, and utterly charmed by himself—from where his cheek is squished into his fist and you can feel the way your pulse stutters. He’s charming, disarmingly so, bundled in some obscure graphic t-shirt and bright pink puffer, jeans marked up with lightning bolts you’re pretty were done by him, he’s pretty. Prettier than you’d ever admit to his face, you think his ego’s plenty big enough.

“Maybe,” your voice is drawn out and teasy, hiding any nerves as you move to clear the last few tables of cups and pastry platters, “maybe not.”

Denki’s face warms just a bit in the way it always does when you tease, cheeks splitting with the force of his grin as he—somehow—leans closer. He watches you disappear behind the counter, picking through what's left of the muffins and danishes to reemerge with a square of cake—bright and citrusy in a way which always reminds you of him.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow,” he fumbles with the words despite saying them every week, a stack of manilla folders and binders, the same ones he’d been using as an arm rest, decidedly not working, are stuffed under one arm. He smiles and you’re reminded of spring and the warmth of the sun on your face, “rain or shine.”

“I know. I can’t wait.” You return his grin, lifting the slice of cake, now nicely wrapped and ribboned, “for the road.” The road being his half a block walk back to his apartment, though you know he’ll probably still have the slice eaten before he gets there.

Denki’s fingers brush against yours as you hand off the box. A chill runs up your spine at the contact. His hands are always warm, he’s always warm and this close you can smell the familiar citrusy warmth of his cologne. The thought makes you want to hold his hands, wonder what they’d feel like laced with your own.

You shake the thought with a smile, ignoring the little hitch in your chest when he turns to leave, forcing yourself not to watch him and hoping he’d find your note once he got home.

The note, written neatly on a slip of construction paper a week ago, is tucked into the top of the box. You’d written it the day after Izumi had teased you, hiding it beneath the tip jar and hoping that you’d work up the courage to slip it to him. ‘ I like you a latte too, hero. just make sure to save some of those lines of yours for the date ;)

xxx-xxx-xxxx

You think he forgot how glass works, pausing in front of the shop's corner to pump a jittery fist, the one still clutching your napkin and number—full and happy. The sight startles a laugh out of you. Denki’s head whips up to find you—face flushed and beaming—and he makes a show of waving the notecard in his hand.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #✶ writes #✶ writes.bnha #✶ writes.denki

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camille-lachenille · 15 days

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Was thinking about just how much characters in the Silm and LOTR deal with pain an injuries on a daily basis. It’s not always said plainly but they exist in the story, they live, they are important, and I wonder how much of them are inspired by Tolkien’s own experience of war injuries/illness. How many of his fellow soldiers came back home disfigured and disabled and were faced with disgust or contempt?

Sure, there’s the whole fairy-tale/mythic aspect of loosing a limb in your heroic quest to get the Magic Object, but what about Gwindor, who was captured by Morgoth and, when he finally managed to escape, was so changed by his sufferings that his beloved rejected him? Gwindor’s not a hero, he’s a simple soldier who suffered through war and captivity and became disabled because of that. How much pain did he live with daily even if it’s never said on the page?

And, still in the CoH, there’s Brandir the Lame. He was born disabled, couldn’t be a warrior, yet held a position of power until his people wanted action and scorned him. Brandir is a healer, a man of wisdom and lore; how much of it is because he tried to cure himself? To ease his pain but also try to "fix" himself in the eyes of his people and be the worthy leader he thought they wanted.

There is Sador ‘Labadal’ too, who chopped his foot off in an accident and is looked down for that by several character (not the least of them being Morwen).

These three characters are all disabled and looked upon with pity, contempt or outright disgust. They did not become disabled in the doing of great deeds, their stories aren’t heroic, and so their disability makes them worthless in the eyes of many.

If you take Maedhros, on the other hand (pun fully intended), he is seen as made greater by his disability. He suffered unthinkable torments and was freed at the price of his right hand, and did many great and terrible things after that. It is similar for Beren, who also lost his hand (arm chopping is not a love language!) but it always portrayed as a good and heroic character, because his disability is the direct result of him taking part in the great designs of the world rather than a banal accident.

And that’s only for the Silm characters, because we don’t want to forget about Frodo of the Nine Fingers, who bore the One Ring to the very fires of Mt Doom. Frodo who returned home sickly and traumatised, plagued with chronic pain, nightmares and a poor health and was only looked at down by the hobbits who did not take part in the quest if the ring. Frodo may be a hero for Men and Elves but he has little to no recognition in his homeland.

Another character I nearly forgot (shame on me!) is Celebrían, She was captured and tortured and despite her physical wounds healing she was never the same again, to the point she had to leave her family to seek healing elsewhere. I see this as a form of mental illness, probably depression and PTSD. And Celebrían is not thought as lesser because of her disability. She is seen as a tragic story, yes, but it’s better than most of the other disabled characters in the Silm.

Anyway, I don’t really know what my point is here, just that I noticed a pattern in the representation of disabled characters in Tolkien’s works, first of all that they exist at all, and second that how they are treated certainly reflects the views of society on disabled people during Tolkien’s lifetime. The way he writes disabled characters isn’t perfect, far from it, but they are here, and I, as a disabled reader, am immensely glad for their existence and I play in the gigantic sandbox of the Legendarium with these characters and others whom I imagine as disabled in any way.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #the lord of the rings #gwindor #brandir #sador #frodo baggins #celebrían #disabled characters #tolkien legendarium #half baked ramblings by a sleep deprived tolkien fan #tolkien meta

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annymation · 3 months

Text

The Kingdom of Wishes- A “Wish” Rewrite

Chapter 11- Into The Eye Of A Storm

Chapter 10

The rain was falling down, and thunder could be heard humbling over Rosas.

Aster struggled to free himself from the king's chains that are coming from his staff, but to no avail.

The king just looked down on the star as he held him close to his face, so he began to speak casually:

"So, "Aster" was it? Hehehe I gotta say though, naming yourself just "Star" in Greek? Maybe not your... "Brightest" moment, hum? AH! HA HA HA" The king laughs at his own pun. He completely moved on from the bad mood he was in earlier "OH- I'm on a ROLL today!"

Aster ignores the bad joke as he keeps trying to use his magic to free himself. But their powers aren't responding to him, he's not able to shrink, nor glow brighter, nor unlock the chains, nothing. All he can do is fly and even that feels weaker.

"UGH- Why can't I-"

"Feel your power?" The king finishes their sentence "Dark magic: versatile, easy to use, but somehow oh sooo unappreciated. But I'm sure your magic isn't anything to sneeze at neither, right?" He grabs Aster's face with one hand and makes the star look at him "Care to share a little bit of it? Promise I'll give it back." He says with a very obviously faux gentle tone.

"Yeah right, if you take away my magic you're gonna KILL me!" Aster looks at him furiously.

"Oh you know that? Aw shucks, really thought I could trick ya... But then again" His grin widens "I think you'll come to find that you don't have a choice in the matter"

Asha is still on the top of the building, even though Aster begged her to run.

“LET GO OF HIM!”

Magnifico ignores her like she’s not even there. He’s floating about 2 meters away from where she’s standing.

He’s focused on analyzing the star closely while holding his face “Hmm and what a fascinating form you’ve chosen, it’s like you’re her little hero in cape and everything? How sweet.” He says in a mocking way while pinching his cheek “Though you surely look a lot more… Childlike than I expected, say, how old are you?”

Aster is still fighting but he doesn’t see why not answer the question “Eighteen.”

“18 what, boy? 18 hundred? 18 thousand? Be specific.” The king says nonchalantly.

Aster kinda stops struggling for a second and just gives the king a confused glance “… Well, if you want specifics, I’m 17, but I’m turning 18 in like 2 weeks from now so-”

“Wa-wait you’re serious?” The king interrupts him, staring at him in disbelief. The star nods… Magnifico quickly turns his attention to the girl below them and yells at her in frustration “ASHA! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? MILLIONS OF STARS IN THE SKY AND YOU WISHED UPON A WEAK LITTLE RUNT?! THIS THING IS A BABY” He says while shaking Aster side to side by the chains on his wrists like a rag doll, making the star a bit dizzy.

(A reminder that this man can switch from threatening to comedic at any second and I love it. Like he’s complaining to her like she just got him the wrong pizza toppings.)

“IF THEY’RE NOT WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR THEN LET THEM GO!” Asha exclaims at him, her face is filled with rage.

Magnifico calms down and looks back to the star in his hands like he’s pondering his next move “Hmmmmm… Nah.” He shrugs with a smile “Beggars can’t be choosers I suppose. Besides, this just means he’s too weak to fight back. Isn’t that right, little one?” The king asks with a wicked grin while looking deep into the star’s eyes.

That comment made Aster frown a little.

Even though it’s raining, a few people start gathering bellow where they are to see what’s going on.

Magnifico smiles widely at that. He speaks quietly so just Aster can hear:

“Ooooh looks like we have an audience. Do me a kindness and try to look as defeated and pathetic as you can, okay? I could really use the positive image right now.” Aster has a sad face “Perfect! you’re a natural.” He says like Aster and him are about to perform a scene together in a play.

Asha is looking side to side trying to think on what to do… She notices something on the floor.

The king walks on the air to get few feet down, so his people can better hear him.

(Now let me explain how exactly Magnifico’s flying works, he’s not floating around like Aster does, he’s much more “standing” while underneath his feet there’s a green light, like he just created the steps of a stair. If you watched Onward you know what I mean, it’s exactly like this)

(So I guess Onward reference, huh, who would’ve thought, a Pixar reference at last, took me long enough.)

“REJOICE MY PEOPLE!” the king exclaims ecstatic “Our little “Wish stealing star” issues have been resolved much earlier than expected!” That got a reaction from Aster, his face became furious once again “Like I said, you can always count on me t-“

Aster screamed on the king’s face “THE ONLY WISH STEALER HERE IS YOU! YOU LYING SNA- HMmH!” The king used his magic to keep the boy’s mouth shut.

“Oh-ho and it’s FEISTY TOO! Heheh- GOOD! I was worried this would be way too easy-“

🪕B L A M🎶

“OUCH! AAAH!”

The crowd gasps.

Something just hit the king’s head and made him lose focus on the flying spell. He falls on the floor.

… Asha just threw her Saba’s mandolin on Magnifico’s face, she’s standing on top of the building breathing deeply, relieved that it was a perfect shot.

Aster is free from the chains.

The star doesn’t skip a beat and flies to Asha immediately, holding her in his arms bridal style.

“Hold on tight!” Aster says.

The two fly off in the rain.

We cut to King Magnifico laying face first on the floor.

He didn’t fall from too high up but it was still quite painful.

The crowd is all around him, worried for their king.

Queen Amable rushes to where he is, with some guards pushing the people aside to let her pass.

“DARLING!! OH MY- ANYTHING HURT??” The queen asks genuinely worried, as she sits on her knees next to him.

“… Just my pride.” His voice is muffled, because his face is still laying on the floor. He begins to stand up as he asks “Ugh- quick, how’s my face?” He asks his wife while touching his own face to feel if there’s any injuries.

“As handsome as always, mi rey” The queen coos, caressing his cheek lovingly.

His eyes light up as his excitement returns to him at full force.

“THEN NO HARM DONE!” He exclaims, smiling like a mad man, he’s high on the adrenaline of the hunt.

He stands up quickly to go catch those teens.

“A little bump in the road, sure! But no need for panic everyone!” The king announces to the people around “Just remain in doors and stay calm, things may get a little... Messy hehehe" He chuckles, thinking of all the forbidden and deadly spells he'll finally have an excuse to use.

He uses his staff to run upwards on thin air, he just can't wait to kill those two teens but-

He feels something pulling his cape.

He looks down.

... Amaya is holding his cape, looking at him worriedly... As in, ACTUALLY worried.

He looks at her puzzled, but his eyes for the first time show a gleam of humanity as he looks down on the love of his life.

"... Just... Be careful." She says, glancing at the storm above them.

... Magnus gives her a comforting smile as he removes his cape, it'll be easier to fly without it weighting him down.

He hands the cape to her, whispering softly "I'll be back before you know it."

...

And up he goes.

Amaya is holding his cape tightly...

She has a bad feeling about this.

...

Okay, so now you guys might think Asha and Aster successfully skedaddled from the king's grasp because he took too long on the ground, right?

Well I'm sorry to say but you thought wrong. Here's what was happening with our heroes while this was taking place.

Aster is flying with Asha in his arms, they're going back to the forest, his cape leaves a trail of light.

He sounds quite traumatized as he says:

"HOW DID THAT CREEP MANAGE TO DECEIVE A WHOLE KINGDOM FOR YEARS?? HE'S SCARIER THAN A VAMPIRE STAR!"

(Vampire stars: stars that sucks the outer layers of material from a companion star, stripping their "bitten" victim down to a mere stellar core.

This is a real thing, and now I'm adding to the lore of wishing stars that there are these evil vampire stars that suck away other wishing star's powers... We have fun here.)

"Welcome to Rosas," (🎶Come on, come this way- sorry) "Where everyone just sees what they want to see." Asha says with a saddened expression. She's looking down on her kingdom as they fly away.

She looks at the castle in the distance...

"Wait... Aster, we gotta go to the castle!" Asha tells him determined

The star stops flying abruptly.

"UUUH Why???" Aster asks her in shock, this is kinda deja vu to that other time she suggested they should run to the castle.

"You can un-curse wishes!" She exclaimed "You un-cursed my wish! We can save A LOT of people if we go in there and you use your magic on as many as you can!"

Now usually Aster would be more than happy to do just that... But he's still a bit shaken by the whole encounter with the king, he's afraid he might catch up to them.

"Asha... I'm not sure we-"

"We can do this, he flies way slower than you, if we hurry we can get there before him." She looks into Aster's eyes, she's full of hope that they can at least save some of her people.

Aster can see her light shining brighter.

"... Then we better hurry." He gives her a trusting smile.

He turns around, flying towards the castle as fast as possible.

As they're reaching the castle, there's indeed no sign of Magnifico.

They get near the window of the wishes room.

"See? Told you we could do it." Asha says with a smile

"Yeah... I guess I am a lot faster than him." He says while flying to get through the window "Now let's do this quick before- OUCH!" Aster hits something when he tries to get in...

There's a green forcefield that manifested on the open window when Aster tries getting through it.

"What th-" Aster tries to hit it to get his hand through but the magic seems to be as strong as concrete, he groans in frustration.

Asha’s smile immediately fell into a scowl.

“oooOOOH SERIOUSLY?!” Asha screams.

“Why, yes. I do take the safety of my people’s wishes very seriously.”

… Take a wild guess on who’s standing behind them with a smug grin…

As soon as Aster hears the king’s voice he JUMPS and flies to the roof of the tower.

He’s holding Asha tightly as he KICKS the roof with his two feet to push himself away from the castle, thus flying away even faster.

Magnifico simply smiles as he uses his staff to once again summons a green hand.

The hand moves quickly through the rain.

Aster is flying as fast as he can but-

The hand catches him.

Asha falls from his arms.

She screams as she falls down.

“NO!” Aster yells in desperation.

Magnifico is now right next to him, smiling maliciously.

“Ah the stars look so pretty when they fall, don’t they?”

Aster’s legs are still free, so he KICKS the staff from Magnifico’s hand, making the king lose focus on the spell.

Aster is freed and flies down almost at the speed of light

It’s a shame the moment was so quick, maybe Aster would’ve noticed Magnifico almost stopped floating when the staff left his hand for a second…

“… That was close…” Magnifico said under his breath

Aster catches Asha in his arms.

“YOU OKAY??” He asks terrified.

“NOPE” She says shaken to her core. Holding him tightly.

Aster weights their options in his head… If they go to to the forest the king is just gonna follow them, he won’t give up on getting his power…

His power.

That’s what the king wants, not Asha.

…

He’s gonna have to break Rule number 1 again.

“Asha, listen.” The Star calls her attention, sounding more serious than ever “We gonna have to split up again, but I PROMISE I’ll come back before you know it.”

Asha looks at him confused.

“What?”

His animation looks more sketchy, like it’s unfinished.

“I’ll send you to the forest, very deep into it, so he can’t find you, I’ll just keep him busy for a-“

“NO! You can’t fight him off! You gotta stay AWAY from him.” She’s holding him by the cape.

“I know, but it’s the only way I can keep you safe.”

He lets her go from his arms, making her float with his magic.

“ASTER WAIT!”

“I’ll know where to find you… I’m sorry.”

He stops flying away.

And makes his star dust cary her, flying away deep into the forest.

Asha is looking back at him in the verge of tears.

All Aster can do is sigh.

…

Alright.

Time to fight a sorcerer king.

That happens to be right behind him, again.

“You know there are wolves in those woods, right?” Magnifico asks sarcastically as he floats like he's laying down on thin air.

Aster turn around quickly and uses his star dust to make several swords.

He throws them at the king and-

*Poof*

They just disappear into glittery smoke when they touch him.

“PFFT AHAHAHAHAAH STOP IT- I didn’t sign up for a tickle fight! Hahah” Magnifico holds his sides as he laughs

Aster is stunned.

“W-what? How did y-“

The king casted another spell to capture Aster, but this time the star dodges it.

Aster flies upwards.

The king follows with a wicked smile.

Aster doesn't understand, why didn’t that work?... Maybe the king was just expecting it and shielded himself? Yeah. That’s gotta be it.

He tries again, this time trying to do what the king did to him before, creating chains made of star dust to tie him down.

When the chains reach Magnifico, he just dust them off his body with his hand like it’s nothing.

… Aster is pretty peeved to say the least. His animation seems more sketchy and rough.

“HOW IS THIS FAIR? Your dark magic thing makes my powers useless!” Aster exclaims while he flies away from the king.

“Ha! You think THIS is because of my magic?! Boy, come on, I know you’re young, but don’t tell me I actually know more about your kind than YOU do!”

Aster keeps flying away, but he looks back at the king as he asks “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Let me "enlighten you", little one.”

He charges up a lightning spell.

“Your magic is made out of… JOY!

⚡️

Aster manages to dodge the lightning.

“GOODNESS!”

⚡️

Aster barely managed to escape the second one

“AND LIGHT!”

⚡️

“AGH!”

Aster didn’t dodge this last one. Their chest has a hole in it now…

That didn’t feel like that time Valentino jumped through him, this actually hurts... A lot.

Magnifico takes the opportunity to capture him again, this time tying him up with a snake made out of green magic.

Aster doesn’t have time to react before he’s wrapped in the snake’s grip.

There's the sound of thunder near them.

Magnifico approaches him slowly, now that the boy is held still in one place.

“And those things- Well, they can’t really hurt anyone, now can they? Heh heh” Magnifico is now flying right next to the star “So... I’m afraid there's little you can do to defend yourself, or anyone else.” He makes a little pout as if to fake pity.

… Aster never knew his magic couldn’t hurt others… Then again, hurting others was never something that crossed his mind before he met this man.

“… If it’s only made of good things then… Why do you want it so bad?” Aster asks

Magnifico’s eyes light up with the question.

“Oooh because it just needs to be wielded by the RIGHT person, my boy. Yes, in you, this magic is very limited because your heart is pure… But in me and my beloved queen however… We’ll be able to do ANYTHING.” He leans in closer to look at the star straight in the eyes as he adds “And that includes hurting the petulant little brat that wished upon you~”

Aster feels a chill run down his whole body. He couldn’t let that happen.

He tried to struggle out of the snake's grip.

Magnifico is amused by the star's determination.

“Heh heh stubborn just like her, aren’t you?”

“YEAH! SHE IS STUBBORN, AND YOU KNOW WHAT?! EVEN IF YOU DO STEAL MY POWER, YOU CAN’T STOP HER, SHES GONNA INSPIRE EVERYONE IN THAT KINGDOM TO RISE UP AGAINST YOU!” Aster exclaims with no doubt that Asha can do it, even without his help.

“Now what are you blabbering about insp- … Wait” Magnifico looks at nothing as he starts connecting the dots “Don’t tell me- That little performance you two were doing at the plaza…” a smile starts creeping in his face, and he starts trying to hold in a laugh “was -pffff- waS THAT AN ATTEMPT TO- HAHAH TO “INSPIRE” THOSE PEASANTS?!” The king has a maniacal smile.

… Aster doesn’t respond, he just avoids eye contact.

“*GASP* IT WAS! WASN’T IT?! OH- HAHAHAHAH” He lets out an evil laugh that echoes through the storm.

Aster tries not paying attention to what Magnifico says.

He tries looking at anything else, the rain, the lightning strikes in the distance, the king's staff...

Wait.

“OH- oh that’s hahha! That’s too good! OH and let me guess, that was YOUR idea, wasn’t it?!”

Aster already muted Magnifico's voice in his head, he looks closely to the staff... It seems to be made of...

Copper.

Aster hears another thunder.

The boy has a realization… This man is not smart.

Said man holds the star’s face, so he looks at him in the eyes.

“And here I was expecting that the girl got some WISE and MIGHTY guide from the sky! But NOPE! All she got was YOU, a naive little boy that doesn't know ANYTHING about how the world works!" The king has a deranged grin ear to ear as his grip on the boy's face tightens.

"Did you actually think that SINGING and DANCING would change ANYTHING?! Honestly, how much of a FOOL are you?!"

...

The star's face crescents into... A smile.

And the king hear's something that he REALLY didn't expect to hear from the boy.

"...pffft hihihi hi hi he- hehe heeh he heh ahah aahha aha ha HAHAH HAHAHAHA HAHAHA AHAAAHHAHAAHHAHHAHA"

The star boy is just laughing… It’s a youthful and free spirited laugh.

Magnifico's evil glee is replaced by bewilderment. He blinks a few times as the boy keeps laughing in his face.

... Did he just break this kid?... Already? After just knowing him for less than an hour?... Well, that sure is a new record for the king.

Magnifico looks frustrated as he asks "What's so funny?"

Aster calms down, and simply looks at the king with a playful smile as he explains

"Hehe oh nothing it's just that- heh heh yeah, I may be a fool but..." Aster's smile turns into cheeky smirk, and there's a gleam of mischief in his eyes as he says confidently:

"At least I'm not the IDIOT that brought a stick made of copper... Into the eye of a storm."

Magnifico's eyes widens.

And at the same time that realization hits him... Something else hits him too.

And all he has time to say is:

"Oh no-"

(hahahaAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAAH aaaah… I waited 11 chapters to write this by the way.)

The king’s staff is hit by a lightning bolt, sending shockwaves through his body.

A painful scream echos above the Kingdom of Rosas.

“MAGNUS!!!”

The queen exclaimed in horror.

... Just as she feared... He got carried away.

Needless to say, Aster’s body is freed from the king’s grasp. The boy watches as the man plummets along with the rain drops.

Aster isn’t smiling anymore, even he is shaken by what just happened, even though he saw it coming.

But he has no time to dwell on this now, he has a friend to find in the forest. So off he goes, leaving a trail of star dust behind him, like a shooting star.

…

But we’ll be focusing on Asha and Aster’s reencounter in the next chapter.

Now. Let’s focus our attention on what’s happening down in Rosas.

…

We see the bare foots of the queen running franticly through the dampened streets of her kingdom, she left her high heels behind her.

She's lifting her long skirt up so she can run faster.

Her hair is soaked and messy... Her crown falls on the ground.

She doesn't care, the crown doesn't matter, nothing matters. All that matters to her is finding him.

She’s desperate. An emotion never yet displayed by the relentless queen before.

The guards are trying to keep up with her, as well as other citizens.

She sees people gathered in a circle, the queen pushes through them violently to find what they’re all looking at.

“OUT OF MY WAY!” She yells, her voice is a high pitched screech full of anguish.

The people quickly let her through as they realize who she is.

Amaya finally gets through the people to find…

King Magnifico is laying face first on the floor. Just like before.

“MAGNUS!" The queen runs to his body and hugs it.

He must have used a protection spell, right? He just want to make the star look worse in the eyes of their people, right? Yes, that has to be it.

She tries to take some deep breaths while holding him.

"I-I'm here my love... You may rise now"

No response.

"... Mi vida?... This isn't funny... I know you used a spell to shield yourself... Didn't you?"

She's still not facing him, his face is still laying down on the floor.

A guard approaches from behind her

"... Your highness, we must take the king to the doctor at once-"

"NO- NO HE- he's alright, he-he's just being dramatic, like always ah haha right, my love?"

She starts turning his body so she can see his face.

"Co-come on Magnus, you wouldn't want to keep our people-" She sees his face, a few people in the crowd gasp "... Waiting"

There's a scar.

The king's left eye has a huge scar.

Amaya caresses his face.

...

She hesitates as she places a hand on his chest...

She can't feel a heart beat.

His cold heart stopped.

The king is dead.

...

Final Thoughts

OOOOH I'M KIDDING HAHAHA- this isn't the end of the chapter yet :)

But it could be the ending though, right?

I mean, the villain died, Aster even gave a cheeky smile and a final line the likes of "And everything that comes with it" from Alladin.

In a Disney movie, you defeat the villain and the story can wrap up, right?

What more there is to it?

... Well, this rewrite is meant to feel like a proper Disney 100th anniversary movie, so this ain't your typical Disney movie.

And King Magnifico is supposed to the 100th anniversary Disney villain, so he ain't your typical Disney villain.

No... He has something that no other villain in the Disney pantheon had.

He has love.

And what is love?

Love is, and always will be, the most powerful thing on earth. That's what Disney taught us for 100 years.

So... What happens when the villains have love?

This is what I think happens:

...

Queen Amable’s eyes widen as it becomes undeniably clear… Magnus is dead.

... The rain now is dying down, becoming a drizzle...

She hears the sound of her people mourning for their king, crying and lamenting the tragedy.

...No...

She would not mourn. To mourn would be to accept that he's gone. And she knows him well enough to know that's not what he'd want. No.

She would never give up on him.

All this time she was worried about what these people would think of them, and now here they are, pathetically crying and moaning... They are weak...

She and her beloved don't need them. They never did. All they need is one another. It no longer mattered to her what they thought of her. It no longer mattered if they became afraid of her. It no longer mattered if they didn't love her anymore.

HIS love is all the love she needs.

And so, in this moment. She didn't care in the slightest about showing aaaaall these people... Why in the past they weren't kidding when they called her, well...

A witch.

Amaya suddenly get's up. Surprising the people around with how quickly she did so.

She RIPS the second layer of her long dress, revealing that inside there were many hidden pockets, each one with a small flask of colorful potions that she caries around for emergencies... Such as this.

The crowd gasps in surprise, they all stare at the queen in confusion.

She takes two of the flasks and begins mixing them, her face is cold and focused:

"Phoenix ashes mixed with two drops of scarab beetle juice" The queen says to herself under her breath.

She takes another flask from her skirt

"Newt saliva to heal the heart" She empties the flask and throws it on the ground, breaking it.

Another guard tries to talk to her:

"Uh- umm your majesty what are y-"

"Silence." She tells him, her tone is as sharp as a dagger.

She proceeds to name another ingredient.

"A tear of grief." She says as she takes one tear from her eye, and it really is one single tear.

She stops for a moment as if to remember the next ingredient... She remembers.

Her face turns to the confused citizens and shouts:

"I NEED A CHILD WITH LONG HAIR! NOW!" Her voice echoes, almost louder than the thunder from the storm.

The people are startled, their queen is usually so quiet and gentle, seeing her like this is like seeing a whole different person.

"QUICKLY! I DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME BEFORE THE SOUL COMPLETELY LEAVES HIS CORPSE!" She yells at them furiously.

"He-here!" A woman emerges from the crowd holding her daughter, a little girl with long blonde hair and green eyes.

(Because you bet I'll fit in a Tangled reference in this serious and tense scene)

The queen walks quickly to the girl and plucks a strand of hair, which the girl responds with a little "Ow!"

Amaya measures the hair strand with her fingers

"... This will give him about 10 years... Good enough." She says to herself as she puts the hair inside the flask.

A puff of smoke comes out from the flask... The potion is ready.

... It won't be long now.

She walks to her beloved husband, holding the potion in her hands.

She sits next to him... She pets his hair as she looks at his lifeless but still gorgeous face, scar and all. She looks at him with a wistful smile and...

She drinks the potion.

The crowd looks in shock.

Amaya coughs a few times, by the looks of it the potion tasted terrible... But it would be worth it.

She looks back to her king and says in a whisper

"And now, the most important step... True love's kiss."

She kisses him.

The people in the crowd look hopeful, everyone has read in fairytales what a true love's kiss is.

... But Amaya's magic isn't the same as the magic of a fairy... Oh no no no. When it comes to dark magic, you can't simply gain something for free... All dark magic does is take. And it does take something away from Amaya... Something she values a lot.

As she kisses their king, the people start to notice something is happening to their queen...

Her hair get's whiter, with a prominent white hair streak growing from her roots and embracing her whole braided hair.

(Because you bet I'll ALSO reference Anna's hair, from Frozen!)

Not only that, but her hands and face become more wrinkled.

... The queen is aging rapidly.

The people look horrified, worried they might get their king back but lose their queen

(And let me tell ya folks, that would be a TERRIBLE thing to happen because then our boy King Mag would straight up kill everyone in Rosas and then himself... Again.)

But the queen suddenly stops the kiss, she lifts her head up taking deep breaths, exhausted after giving away 10 years of her life to her love...

She looks 60 years old now.

... The king is still motionless...

...

The crowd is staring in anticipation.

...

Magnifico's eye's are shot open.

"*GAAAAAASP* *COUGH* COUGH*"

He sit's up quickly as he coughs while gasping for air.

"Shhhhh there there darling, just take some deep breaths now" The queen coos gently, her previous cold hearted demeanor vanished in an instant, and she's once again the kind and loving queen they all know her to be.

The crowd cheers and applauds the queen for successfully bringing the king back to life.

And said king is... Very lost on what on earth just happened, as he places a hand on his head and his eyes are closed, he seems to be in a lot of pain.

"UGhhh... My head-"

"Does it hurt? I can make something to help with that... Healing your face however, may prove to be more of a challenge." The queen says while petting his back.

The king's eyes widen at the comment, he quickly turns to look at his wife for the first time since he came back to life

"What's that about my fa- *gasp*" He get's startled when he sees HER face.

His queen is changed... She's smiling at him, which show even more all her new wrinkles... The white hair streak is very noticeable on her crown-less messy and soaked wet hair.

Magnifico stares at her incredulous... He starts connecting the dots in his head, as he also remembers what happened to him...

"... Amaya... What did you do?" He says as he places a hand on her cheek gently. His eyes are full of worry.

The queen stops smiling... She instinctively tries covering her face with her hands.

Magnus immediately holds her hands, as he looks her deep in the eyes and reassures her "You are... And ALWAYS will be the fairest queen of all, and no curse in this world or any other can change that for me." He says with certainty.

... Even though it's raining, by the queen's expression it's clear that she teared up with that comment.

The king wraps his arms around her gently, like she could turn into dust at any moment.

"... I'm so sorry that I failed you... This never EVER should've happened... But I swear to you, my love" His voice goes cold "I will not fail you... Ever again."

... He would not let himself get carried away again...

That girl is going to pay.

And that star will be theirs.

King Magnifico realizes they're still being watched... They'll continue this tender moment later. Now, he better make the most of the situation, after all, him being literally MURDERED by the star boy certainly helps his side of the narrative.

The king tries to get up but his legs are still feeling a bit numb, his body is still getting used to the fact that it's up and running again. Two guards help him stand up. And they also hand him his magic staff that was laying next to him

Magnifico is now standing up with his wife holding him tightly.

He takes a deep breath to start one of those long and inspiring speeches of his:

"People of Rosas... It seems even I underestimated just how vicious the enemy we're facing really is... The fallen star thought he could kill the heart of this kingdom, but as you can all see, this HEART is still beating! And it shall remain like this for many years to come!" The king says proudly.

The people cheer in unison. Some saying "Long live the king".

... Probably not the best time for Amaya to tell him she could only give him more 10 years soooo he's not getting past 65.

"Rosas shall never fall! For we are the kingdom of HOPE! And NO force in this world can stop-"

"*COUGH COUGH* Aah"

The king's speech is cut short, as the queen starts coughing and her legs go weak.

"Woah woah Amaya?" Magnifico looks worried as he holds her closer to him, stopping her from falling.

The people gasp in surprise

The king holds her close to him and whispers "Heh heh no need for theatrics my love, th-they're already on our side" Magnifico says, hoping the queen is just being dramatic to gain even more sympathy from them.

"... It's not pretending" She whispers to him "I feel... Weak."

(If this was a movie, the whole internal dialogue that will happen now, as well as Amaya's internal dialogue that happened earlier, would be just their expressions changing from worried to serious in a few seconds, and just by their expressions and the music the audience would be able to tell that this is a "Oh, they snapped" moment)

...

Only in that moment Magnus really starts to process what just happened.

He... DIED.

Just like that... He could've left her... Alone... Forever.

And why did he die?... Because he wanted to impress these people. He wanted to make a big spectacle about capturing that star. They made him weaker.

Not only that, but their love and loyalty was flimsy. It took only ONE GIRL speaking in front of a crowd for some people to start questioning him... Clearly, he and his queen are doing this all wrong.

All this time, pretending and deceiving to gain the love of these people, so they'd trust him with their wishes... But the situation changed. Once he harness that star's power, they'll have no use for these people anymore, will they?

So why be loved... When they can be feared?

It's not like he needs their love anyway.

HER love is all the love he needs.

And so, in this moment. He didn't care in the slightest about showing aaaaall these people... Why he wasn't chosen to be the heir to the throne.

...

The king's face morphs from worried to stoic, as he caresses his wife's hair gently.

The people are looking at him, expecting him to continue the speech.

But instead, Magnifico addresses one specific guard that is standing next to some others

"Captain O'Danohue." The king's voice is emotionless, he's still looking down to his wife while talking to the soldier.

The captain steps forward.

"Yes sire." The captain is a tall and large man with a beard and ginger hair just like Simon's

"Where did that star and that girl go?" Magnifico is still not making eye contact with the man

"They were seen flying to the forest, your majesty."

"Good, good. Send all your men to search for them immediately."

"Right away, your majesty. Do not worry, we'll-"

"And if they're not found til tomorrow night your men will burn that whole forest down." The king added, still talking monotonously.

That gets a few surprised looks from the people around them

The captain of the royal guard is taken aback by this "... Pardon me sire but I think I misun-"

The king finally takes his eyes off his wife to look at the captain with a bored expression "They can't hide in a forest if there's no forest, now can they?" He says like it's just common sense

The captain is perplexed "But- But what about the people that live there? There are houses in the woods."

"They have till tomorrow night to leave then." The king said simply "But of course, if that sounds too hard for you I can burn it down myself." Magnifico shrugs.

The people look shocked... The island's forest has been considered sacred for generations.

The king adds

"Oh, and speaking of "leaving", have your men also burn and destroy all the boats at the docks... No one get's in or out this kingdom until we find that star, was I clear?" He says while looking at the people around him this time.

Simon's father is speechless for a moment... The king seems to have lost his mind, but that's understandable, right? He died a few minutes ago.

The soldier tries to snap him out of it:

"My liege, with all due respect, I don't think-"

"Due respect?" Magnifico interrupts him once again, this time with a hint of anger creeping in his voice "I think you misunderstand captain. You all OWE ME all the respect you can possibly give, not only as your KING, but also as the one who MADE YOU who you are." He doesn't even raise his voice much, those words echo in the hearts of all the citizens that had their wishes granted "I didn't grant your wish of becoming my knight for you to THINK, O'Danohue, I did it for you to OBEY... Was I clear?" The king asks again.

The captain goes stiff.

He bows down to the king as he says "Crystal clear, your majesty."

... A sinister smile finally returns to the king's now scared face.

"There you go, that's a lot easier, isn't it?" The king says condescendingly.

That felt good... He should've done this a long time ago.

He looks down to his queen that he has been holding in his arms this whole time, she's looking up to him, also smiling wickedly.

They're on the same page, they won't pretend to be something they're not anymore.

That girl thought that truth would set these people free? Oh... They're more trapped than ever.

They both turn to look at their frightened and confused subjects.

The king’s glares at them as he says "... I believe it’s quite obvious what will happen to anyone who dares helping the traitor and the star" The green gem on the king's staff starts glowing "Right?"

The crowd all shakes their heads "Yes" quickly, as they know this is a threat.

The gem slowly stops glowing.

"Wonderful, that will be all then." He lifts the staff upward to hit it on the ground "And remember, Rosas... Just keep wishing." He has a subtle smile, this phrase is what he always says at the end of Wish ceremonies.

He hits the floor, creating a huge cloud of green smoke that engulfs him and Amaya, they teleport to the palace.

(I was gonna write Magnifico's reaction to his new scar... Buuuut I think I'll keep that off screen, I think you guys can imagine how he felt about it.)

...

The people of Rosas are at a loss.

Some think the king just went insane and it's all thanks to that star.

Other's think that he's right to take desperate measures to handle this threat.

And a few are now starting to realize that maybe they've been lied to this whole time and the king has always been a bad person.

No one is quite sure what to think of this.

...

Except for a certain group of teens... And a goat.

Who went inside to get cover from the rain just before the king went after Aster... So they didn't see the whole ordeal that just happened.

But they have seen enough to know exactly what side they're choosing to be on... Knowing what they know now.

...

Note that I didn't say how many teens are in that group.

Chapter 12

Final Thoughts

(for real this time)

... So ummmm... That was a lot, wasn't it? hahaha

I swear next chapter will be all about Asha and Aster and there will be WHOLESOME VIBES... After some sad vibes first.

Yeah, they gotta have a little heart to heart BUT it'll be more chill than THIS whole thing that just happened. In fact, from this point forward things should get a little bit more calm... For a while.

But now speaking on this chapter-

LETS GOOOOOOOOOOO CHARACTER DESING CHANGE!!!!

THE BROTHER KILLER HAS A SCAR!

THE WITCH LOOKS OLD!

REFERENCES ALL AROUND!!!

I usually don't say this, but ummm if I see fanart of King Magnifico with a scar on his left eye and Queen Amable looking older with a white hair streak it would be so awesome, it would be so cool... Just saying I would go insane, even more than I already am.

And the way I came up with this plot point weeks ago literally is the funniest thing, here's how my thought process went:

I want the confrontation in chapter 10 to feel tense... I'll say it's a cloudy day... Clouds bring rain... And rain brings a storm... And storms brings lightning... And lightning kills Disney villains... I'll kill Magnifico because he had it too good for too long. He needs to take an L. His actions have consequences.

SO THE NARRATIVE ESCALATED FROM:

"IT'S A CLOUDY DAY" TO "THE KING DIED."

LMAO

But seriously though, THIS is a big turning point for the villains.

Initially, they just wanted Aster's power for the sake of wanting it, because it would be fun to have it... Now? Now it's a NEED.

It's a need because they need immortality, Magnifico had a taste of his own mortality, and Amaya is older and weaker, they NEED to have that magic so they can live together forever. Have their happily EVER after, so to speak.

To me that feels more unique and compelling than just "We want power... Even though we already got it."

And speaking of Aster CAREFUL BOY! YOUR PETER PAN SIDE IS SHOWING!!! That laugh Aster let out is supposed to feel like a Peter Pan laugh by the way.

Yeah writing Aster and Magnifico's dynamic was SO MUCH FUN like wooooow you guys have no idea. It's Captain Hook and Peter Pan, it's Alladin and Jafar, it's Hercules and Hades, I wanna fit in all those vibes!!!

But let's address the elephant in the room... So true love's kiss, huh?

I just think it would be HILARIOUS if Disney not only gave us a villain couple for the first time ever... BUT ALSO USED THEM TO PROVE THE POINT THAT TRUE LOVE IS POWERFUL AS HECK.

I mean, they've shown us that

Over

And over

AND OVER

So I think having this classic trope happen, BUT TWIST IT in your 100th anniversary movie, would be pretty neat ya know? like, I think, you guys tell me, I don't know 🤷‍♀️

Anyway, this chapter was LOOOONG and full of emotions, mostly tense ones, but things are gonna chill a bit with Asha and Aster on the next one, I promise!

As always

Thank You For Reading!

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inamindfarfaraway · 2 years

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How much do you think the Signal’s debut shook the supervillains, and indeed all criminals, of Gotham? He destroyed their longstanding definition of a Gotham vigilante. All the rules went out the window. From now on, apparently anything goes.

[Early morning in a plain, modest safehouse. Jonathon Crane cracks his eyes open, yawns, slowly gets up and groggily shuffles to the kitchen/dining area, where he takes out a cup and prepares to use the coffee machine. Behind him his scientific equipment and notes are arranged neatly on the counter. A relaxed Duke is taking photos of them.]

Duke: (jovially) Good morning.

Jon: Good morning.

Jon:

Jon: Who the hell are you?!

Duke: I’m the Signal! (pats symbol proudly) The newest hero in town.

Jon: (blinks, still half-asleep) Like… the Bat-Signal?

Duke: Yeah, I’ve got this whole light theme going on.

Jon: But - it - it’s 6:30 AM.

Duke: Yep. Turns out crime doesn’t just vanish when the sun comes up, so I patrol in the daylight hours. The night shift has seven people; the day shift should have at least one, right?

Jon: But you’re a Bat! Bats don’t do that!

Duke: Actually, some species of bat, like fruit bats, are diurnal. I got precedent.

Jon, on the verge of a breakdown: Okay, okay, look. I have lost a great deal of sleep lately evading capture by the frankly ridiculous number of vigilantes active at night. You’re a teenager, a student with a very strenuous job. Surely you understand what sleep deprivation feels like.

Duke: I do.

Jon: Just please, please let me have my coffee.

[A weighted pause. Duke narrows his eyes, then softens.]

Duke: You get one cup.

Jon: Thank you.

[He makes his cup of coffee and lovingly inhales the smell. Just as he’s about to drink it, Duke bats it out of his hand like a cat. It smashes on the floor.]

Jon: YOU -

[Duke quickly cuffs him.]

Duke: Stop! Making! Trauma: The Inhalant! That’s all you have to do, man!

***

[Duke is fighting Poison Ivy in her greenhouse of killer plants.]

Duke, popping out the blades in his escrima sticks: Your vines are no match for my bat-chet blades!

Ivy: Great, another one who puns.

[She sends a new wave of vines, but he gracefully slices and weaves through them. Too gracefully. His reflexes are faster than even Batman’s. Curious as scientists are wont to be, she halts her attack, and then suddenly, silently strikes with a vine straight at the back of his head. He cannot possibly sense it coming. He ducks.]

Ivy: Wait… oh God, you can’t predict movements before they happen with crazy extreme ninja training like Black Bat, can you? I’m not fighting another Bat like that. No way.

Duke: Oh, no, no, no, don’t worry. I’m not nearly as well-trained as Black Bat. I just have superpowers.

Ivy: You what?

Duke: I’m a metahuman. I’ve got superpowers.

Ivy: But you’re a Bat! Bats don’t do that!

Duke: I get that a lot.

Ivy: Well, what superpowers?

Duke: I’m not telling you all about my powers - I’m literally fighting you - but basically I can process light differently. Part of that is seeing where it’s been, the past, and where it will be, the future. I call it ghost vision.

Ivy: How far into the past and future? Hours? Months? Years? Can you see before your birth or after your death? Can you predict other people’s deaths? Watch the rise and fall of civilizations?

Duke, whose ghost vision currently goes under a minute both ways: That’s for me to know and you to… (stares into the middle distance) I believe, never find out.

Ivy: (raises hands) I’ll go to Arkham.

***

[Duke kicks open the door to Edward Nygma's hideout.]

Duke: Give it up, Riddler, I've got a... whoa.

[He trails off as he takes the space in. There are papers - plans, to-do lists, riddles, ciphers, trap and gadget blueprints, maps and more - everywhere, in stacks, folders and scattered loose across every surface. A bin in the corner is overflowing with crumpled pages. Intricate model traps line a shelf, one fallen on the floor. One wall bears a large corkboard with green and purple strings connecting annotated pictures of the Batfamily, including a screenshot of Oracle's digital logo. Edward himself has not reacted whatsoever to Duke's entrance. He's hunched over at his desk, typing away at an expensive computer setup. On one side of him sit many energy drinks, on the other is a massive pile of empty cans. All this detail requires Duke's night vision to see, because the lights are off and the curtains are closed, the only light the computer's cold glow.]

Edward: (only briefly looking up to give him a haughty stare) Yes, yes, the Signal, I've heard. Rest assured, it will be my utmost pleasure to obliterate you in a battle of wits. I just need to finish a couple of things.

Duke: When was the last time you slept?

Edward: (slightly hysterical chuckle) Please. I have transcended my mortal weaknesses thanks to intense focus, indomitable drive and the miracle of stimulants, much as I presume you Bats do. You're in no position to lecture me on getting enough sleep. I mean, you're late, so you're clearly not on top of things.

Duke: What?

Edward: You're meant to be a daytime hero. It's a little late for that, isn't it?

Duke: (concerned) It's 8:00 AM.

[Edward blinks and looks at the clock on his screen. He frowns. He stands up, strides over to the window and opens the curtains, flinching at the bright morning light. Duke notices that he has deep bags under his eyes and looks even more tired than Jon did, but his movements are as energetic as ever. He stretches and winces from back ache.]

Edward: Ah. So it is. ...What day is it?

Duke: (more concerned) Monday?

Edward: Monday?!

Duke: Okay, you've clearly been in the zone for a while. And I know being autistic can make it hard to recognize and interpret your body's messages. When was the last time you ate?

Edward: None of your business. I'm perfect condition.

[He picks up another can. Duke punctures it with a batarang. Edward scoffs and throws it down in indignation.]

Duke: I don't think you should have any more of those. (scans the rooms with X-ray vision) Oh my God, there's no food in here. Did you forget to buy it? Listen, if you come quietly, I'll get you a full breakfast on the way to Arkham.

[Edward is distracted, rummaging through his rooms in search of food.]

Edward: Of course I have food, Duke. It's right... it's somewhere around... (finds the fallen model) oh, I was looking for this!

Duke: No, with my powers I - you know my identity?

Edward: (still distracted, talking increasingly fast) What, like it's hard? I know everyone's except Oracle and the Red Hood. If Jason had survived, he'd be a perfect fit, but he's dead. Now, true, Stephanie is still alive when I distinctly remember visiting her grave, but those are completely different situations. There was a motive to fake her death, to escape the criminal overlords she'd angered with that gang war; I cannot find any such benefit from Jason's faked death and relocation. Stephanie was gone for, like, a year. Jason has yet to return after most of a decade. Even -

Duke: You visited Steph's grave?

Edward: She was a brilliant adversary, I had to pay my respects. Anyway, even if Jason's death was somehow inexplicably faked, he wouldn't have chosen to live only as the Red Hood. Especially who the Red Hood was at first. That would mean sacrificing his close familial relationships and becoming his beloved father and brother's enemy. And why would he ever be a crime lord? It's a radical betrayal of all his values, and based on his backstory, he should resent organized crime. And Batman would never fight his own child. None of it makes any sense! But I can't figure out what else could work. Is he really just a random person the Bats took in in adulthood? So that's been weighing on me. And also -

[He trips over a folder and, weak and lightheaded, crashes to the floor. He's so exhausted that merely lying on a flat surface has him sleeping soundly in an instant, resting his head on a stack of paper. Duke stares at him incredulously.]

Duke: I'm buying you breakfast.

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davidwontstopwritingsongs · 1 year

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so in cantonese it's called 奇異女俠玩救宇宙. lets break that DOWN

the tweet i saw about it translated it as "wacky woman fucks around and saves the world". is that an accurate translation? well… yes and no.

let's start with 奇異. you'll also notice it in films like doctor strange (奇異博士). a rough translation would be wacky/weird, yes. or strange if you will. but it also has connotations to magic, the supernatural, interesting things, things outside the realm of reality. something singular, unique. and that fits with the film so well.

女俠 next. 女 means woman. not very much to say here. 俠 if you google it would mean something like brave, hero, etc. not a huuuuge amount to analyse in this part apart from the fact that 俠 is used in the title of every single superhero movie (spiderman is 蜘蛛侠, iron man is 鐵甲奇俠, so on and so forth) so i guess a cantonese person seeing this movie title would assume it was somewhat superhero-y. ("to be fair, it does have quite good action scenes" - my friend who had to have this post infodumped to them at 2am before i decided to post it on tumblr)

NOW THE NEXT BIT. THE BIT THAT INSPIRED THIS UNHINGED 2AM DEEP DIVE. 玩救. THIS IS WHERE THE FUCKS AROUND AND SAVES THE WORLD BIT COMES FROM. 玩 means to play. 救 means to save. so she's playing around and saving something. cool.

but wait, because this is actually an EXTREMELY CLEVER PUN. you see, 救 is pronounced "gou" in cantonese. you want to know another word that is pronounced "gou"? and not just after you fuck around with tones, but actually in the exact same pronounciation? 夠. now what is the significance of that you may ask?

玩救 itself is not a word/phrase. 玩夠, however, is. same pronounciation so it fits into the wordplay. 玩夠 means literally to have "played enough/finished playing". basically you're done, you're moving on. but that is the centre of evelyn's struggle! she doesn't think she's done anything with her life, she constantly rues the fact that she could have done so much more and she didn't! evelyn HASN'T 玩夠 life yet. she wants to do it all, to live all those lifetimes. and it is through living all those lifetimes and finding enlightment that she 玩夠, and thus is also able to 救 the universe.

and then 宇宙 is universe. like the whole universe. there's only one universe in this translation. i'm not quite sure how you would articulate multiple universes in cantonese.

anyway the person who made this title translation was IMMENSELY clever

#everything everywhere all at once #eeaao #cantonese #i wrote this when i was hyperfixating over the movie and only found it now because i'm writing another long thing in drafts #anyway hope you like this belated analysis

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gabessquishytum · 7 months

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Not especially horny, but I had the thought of retired Dream having to learn corporeality again (like everyone, lol).

I specifically pictured him... being bad at Video games. He'd love them, they've got such beautiful stories, and it's so like a dream, the setting is something given and the player decides what they'll do.

But he's not that good, because he hasn't got the hand-eye coordination, and the buttons are just so fiddly, and so it becomes a regular occurrence for Hob to see Dream coming to him with pleading eyes, extending the controller his way.

And for every ledge he hops for Dream, for every monster he kills, he gets a kiss on the cheek. Hob loves it. He also loves watching Dream play, because even if it takes him a moment, he's so immersed, so excited about it.

After a few months Dream has gotten better at being human, but not at video games. It takes for Hob to come home early and finding Dream expertly smashing around a Zelda boss to find out that Dream has been... lying, a bit. He's very sorry about it, really, but he just likes when they do this together, and if Hob could forgive him?

But Hob just smiles and tells him about multiplayer games.

Dream is not, actually, good at those, because shortly after starting their first game together, because it turns out that kisses on the cheek for killed monsters are more difficult when you're both trying to look at the screen.

And it's even more difficult to kill said monsters when you've just discovered that apparently, your best friend/housemate is not at all against being kissed on the mouth.

This is the cutest thing I've ever read I'm literally dying!!! Also!!! I feel like we don't talk about Hob and video games enough and I think he would absolutely love them. He would spend hours staying up until 2am with his eyes aching from staring at the screen because he's so engrossed. And Minecraft!!! He would love Minecraft so much!!!!!!! So would Dream!!!!!!!! Imagine retired Dream making a whole little world in Minecraft and its like he can rediscover a spark of creativity he thought was utterly lost to him!!! Anyway.

So Dream starts out playing Kirby or something with pretty cute graphics and stories but. He does struggle with the jumping and the switching skills and so Hob is like ok. Let's try a different story kind of game. And then they try Zelda which Dream really loves but again. He's a little bad at it. Hob gets to be the hero, beats up the bosses, and Dream gets to run around doing silly little quests. Hob gets many kisses. All is right with the world.

He was a bit suspicious that Dream seems to be spending so much time on his games without his skills improving, but he doesn't exactly mind. The worse Dream is at killing monsters, the more kisses Hob gets. Except the truth is, Dream is now definitely better at the game than Hob...

And when Hob catches him beating a boss for the first time, of course he has to give Dream a kiss in return. A slow, soft kiss on the lips that makes Dream drop his controller and melt into Hob’s arms. Hopefully he saved his progress, because suddenly he's being carried off in the direction of Hob’s bedroom like Peach being carried off by Bowzer (only with a lot less protesting, and no pesky plumber coming to rescue him).

(I need you all to know that I really really really like golf games like Golf with Your Friends and Golf It so I have vivid scenarios in my brain about Dream and Hob playing together. The glitching golf balls. The bizarre courses. The rage. Hob making terrible puns about holes. Whoever wins on each hole gets a kiss. Hob absolutely loses on purpose so he can kiss his beloved <3)

#the sandman #dreamling

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three--rings · 6 months

Text

God that David Jenkins interview collection post I just reblogged...

I hadn't read the Paste interview and my god David I have to just...marvel at some of this.

In particular:

"But I think him becoming a father figure to Ed in the last episode didn't really dawn on us until we were breaking the last episode. Asking what would this man say to Ed at the end because they've been together through everything? He went from a troubled and downtrodden employee to a jilted lover to a discarded employee, to someone that is just trying to find his footing again—no pun intended—to actually becoming this guy's parental figure on some level. And he's one person who kind of raised Ed right, because Blackbeard usually kills his parental figures. So, it felt right and it felt like that's how the mentor dies. The mentor in a story usually dies in the second act and then our hero has to go on and try to do it without them. It felt like the right journey for Izzy and a gratifying one for Con."

Like, okay we, the writers, hadn't considered him a father figure or mentor at all until the very last episode where we killed him. But we came up with it as we were writing it.

And then we didn't put anything about it into the episode at all, and then we talk about it in interviews about how obvious it is as a mentor relationship and like...I'm sorry. Yeah it was surprising to all of us as well, because you may have suddenly thought of it like that when you were DESPERATELY trying to justify this death to yourself as NECESSARY because you'd decided it WAS, but you also

DIDN'T PUT ANY OF THAT ON THE SCREEN.

So no, the audience is not on the same page, cause we weren't a part of those discussions you had. That only came up in the last episode. You can't in like 4 minutes of a 25 minute episode, the very last episode of 18, introduce a character dynamic when one of the characters is dying.

That's not how writing for TV works! Does he really think he put the Izzy is a father figure stuff on screen somehow in that death scene? Cause like, sure Izzy is showing AFFECTION for Ed in that scene, but there's nothing there that is PARENTAL. And family, which Ed says, doesn't mean that either. The ship is family. Queer family is different. IDK IDK.

And like it reminds me of something else he said in another interview, about Jim and Oluwande and how "in the writer's room we always thought of them as a friend relationship that got romantic" and that's why they got other partners. But like, okay, if your intent was they were more friends than romantic (which, I'm not sure that's what you mean, but if you're using it to say that's why they are now into other people, okay?) then did you convey that to THE ACTORS? Because it feels like the actors were definitely playing ROMANCE in S1.

That's what ended up on the screen. Two friends falling in love, sure, but actually falling in love and not just two friends who sleep together, as S2 tries to imply.

IDK but I really want to be like, dude sometimes it's not about writer intent. Sometimes it's about what ends up on the screen and you need to step back and look at what your audience is seeing. Because your actors are doing a lot of things that may take things to different places.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd meta #my meta #david jenkins

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coopigeoncoo · 10 months

Text

The Cardinal Rule

Pairing: Hawks/Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: Teen+

Tags: Romantic Comedy, Bird Puns, Ritual Blood Letting, Blood and Injury, Descriptions of Surgical Procedures, Vomit, The Teachings of Karl Marx

---

A story where Hawks learns that while humans might be awed by his flying skills, the bird population is decidedly less impressed.

---

"The birds are refusing to work until their demands are met," you explained, trying to subtly slide your body between Hawks and the birds who were quite literally calling for bloodshed.

"Which are?" Hawks asked as he lifted the bottle of water to his mouth and took a long sip.

"They, ah, want you held accountable for your numerous bird crimes."

Hawks abruptly choked, water spurting from the corner of his lips as he attempted to swallow the remaining liquid as he sputtered helplessly.

"My what?" He coughed, thumping solidly on his chest with a closed fist.

---

Continue Reading below or follow the link to Ao3!

The air inside the studio was stifling; hot from the numerous bodies crammed into one room and the too-bright spotlights shining down onto the immaculately styled set pieces. The entire thing looked like something your Art History Professor would have gushed over, the words ‘Brutalistic’ and ‘Industrial’ echoing through your head in their booming voice. And you understood this set design just about as much as you understood that entire unit in school- pretty much not at all.

But it wasn’t your job to understand the aesthetic appeal of the bone white pillars jutting out from the concrete floor at harsh angles. Your job was to mind the birds.

You liked your job at the bird rehabilitation center well enough and found it soothing most days. Getting to spend your days caring for sick and infirmed birds was emotionally rewarding as well as lucrative. It turns out that Ornithologists were very willing to shell out the big bucks to have someone with an Avian Communication Quirk on their payroll. You had cemented yourself as an irreplaceable employee when you single handedly turned a failing breeding program around by informing the lead scientist that the female bird wasn’t receptive to the male’s advances because she thought he didn’t groom himself well enough. One emergency bath later and the courtship proceeded without a hitch. Last you heard the endangered pair was happily raising their forth successful brood.

The only part of your work you didn’t like was what you were forced into doing today; accompanying the birds on sojourns outside of the rescue facility. Schools loved to have the birds visit as they were a good distraction for the children that allowed the harried teachers to catch their breaths and chug a cup of coffee while your feathered companions dazzled the students with their aerial acrobatics. And even though those bouts of public speaking absolutely wracked your nerves, you would happily subject yourself to a dozen school assemblies if it meant escaping the hell that was waiting stand-by at a Pro Hero photo shoot.

Pro Heroes, by the nature of their work, had unpredictable schedules at best and were unreachable at worst, leaving the support and PR people who orbited around them in a perpetual state of limbo. In general, you found lateness to be deeply inconsiderate of everybody’s time and energy, but it was a social faux paus to call Heroes out on their tardiness. They were usually late due to being called out for emergencies and rescues, so chiding them for missing appointments was a surefire way to come off looking like an absolute jerk to the public at large.

But internally you can, and often do, curse them for keeping you waiting in a sweltering studio for hours as your birds grew increasingly agitated and your stock of treats ran low.

“Hot," a brilliant red cardinal complained, hopping into the bowl of water you had placed at the bottom of his cage.

“I know, buddy. Hold on just a little longer, okay?”

“Too many suns,” one of the hawks complained, ducking her head beneath her wing to block out the blinding glow of the stand lights.

“There sure are. Do you want me to put a blanket over your cage?”

“Yes,” she agreed readily, shifting her weight from foot to foot in irritation as pulled out a dark blue blanket and draped it over the side of her cage that faced the lights.

A frazzled looking assistant darted your way, hand pressed to the earpiece of their headset as she took in the newest bout of information being relayed.

"Hawks is on-site now. He's just about done in wardrobe and then he'll make his way here," the assistant said, her eyes frantically scanning over the clipboard in her hands.

"Thank goodness," you sighed, turning to the cages that housed the birds. "Are you all ready?"

"Leave? Leave now?" The cardinal chirped, bouncing excitedly in his bath.

"Unfortunately, no. We still have work to do."

"Not ready then," the cardinal huffed petulantly, puffing up his bright red body as he sank down into his pool.

"C'mon, it won't be too bad! If you all follow directions I bet the photos will go really fast and we'll be out of here in no time!" You assured the tiny red bird, crouching down to give him your full attention as he flapped his wings too fast and sent water sloshing out of his pool.

"Treat would make me ready," the cardinal said slyly, tilting his head to the side in an attempt to distract you from his manipulations by reminding you of how cute he was.

"Treat?" The overwhelmed hawk inquired, peeping her head from around her shroud.

"Treat?" A dove cooed, nudging its friends awake who immediately joined in with the call for snacks.

"Treat! Treat!" The birds chirped and squawked, hitting their wings against the side of their cage and creating a loud enough ruckus that people were beginning to send irritated glances your way.

"Okay!," you hissed in capitulation, pulling a handful of dried crickets out of a paper bag. "But this is the last of the treats I brought with me, so you all need to behave and make it through the rest of the photoshoot. Got it?"

"Yes, yes," the cardinal readily agreed, bouncing along the bottom of his cage and picking up the grasshopper in its beak, chomping happily. "Be good. Promise."

The cardinal was a dirty rotten liar.

Snacks had bought you a tentative peace that lasted until the moment Hawks arrived on set. The birds took one look at the Hero and promptly began screeching, startling everyone in the studio and causing more than one person to drop their cup of coffee in surprise. Hawks took to air, landing on top of one of the pillars and artfully arranged himself according to the Photographer's instructions while your birds went wild; hurling insults his way.

"Rude! Rude bird!" The cockatoo called, flairing his crest in displeasure.

"Bad flier!" The doves chastised together with sharp clicks of their beaks.

"Miscreant!" The cardinal called, easily the most wound up of the bunch, fluffing up his feathers to look threatening. "Criminal!"

"Hey, guys! Shhhh, you have to quiet down!" You begged, aware of all the judgemental glares settling onto your back like a physical weight. "You promised you'd behave!"

"No behave! Need justice!" The cardinal called, hopping up onto his perch and opening his bright orange beak to let out a high pitched chirp. " JUSTICE!"

"Justice!" The rest of the birds echoed. Justice! Justice! Justice!"

"We're ready for the birds on set!" The assistant informed you as she motioned over her shoulder to where the photographer circled around Hawks, snapping a few last minute test shots.

"Right," you coughed nervously. "About that."

"What do you mean the birds refuse to work?!" The photographer roared in your face, his cheeks colored a splotchy red. "They're birds! "

"Yes, they are. And they refuse to take pictures with Hawks."

"All of them?" The photographer scrubbed a frustrated hand down his face, a vein at his temple pulsating in time with his thundering heartbeat.

"Seems like," you admit with a sheepish shrug. "It's pretty unusual for them to agree on anything like this. The raptors and the songbirds are almost always at odds with each other."

"I'm so glad they've managed to achieve bird peace instead of doing, oh, I don't know; WHAT I'VE PAID FOR THEM TO DO!" The photographer bellowed through gritted teeth, pulling out fistfuls of his already thinning hair in frustration.

"No price on honor!" The cardinal chirped boldly, the other birds supporting their tweeted proclamation with chirps of their own.

"What's going in here?" A passing member of the crew asked, hoisting a coiled extension cord up onto his shoulder.

"The birds are uh- unionizing, apparently? And have decided to go on strike," you explain.

"Really?" The man said, eyes wide in astonishment as he gave the birds a thumbs up and a wide smile. "Right on, little dudes! Fight the power!"

"Yes! Fight! Fight!" The cardinal called.

"Fight!" The birds chorused.

"Bite! Bite!" The cardinal screeched as he snapped his beak in demonstration.

"You uh, might want to get away from the cages," you warn the photographer. "They're starting to call for violence."

The photographer turned away from the cages and appeared to take cleansing breaths before he noticed the crew orderly filing out of the studio.

"Wait!" The photographer called out to the workers. "Where are you going?"

"Sorry man, but we don't cross picket lines," the man holding the extension cord explained as he grabbed a soggy donut from craft services table on his way out the door. The crew's act of solidarity seemed to please the birds, who let out joyous calls in return.

"We are flock!" The cardinal cheered. "The flock is strong!"

"I'm so going to get fired for this," you mutter despondently as the birds began flipping over their feeders, spilling seeds and slices of fresh fruit across the studio floor.

"So what's the excitement over here all about?" Hawks asked, finally curious enough about the disruption your birds were causing to come over and investigate.

"So, um. The birds are upset, " you begin warily, hyper aware that the birds were screeching louder and louder with every step Hawks took towards their cages.

"I can see that," he smirked as he twisted the lid off of a bottle of water, the lopsided grin perfectly at home on his scruffy face.

"And they're refusing to work until their demands are met," you explained, trying to subtly slide your body between Hawks and the birds who were quite literally calling for bloodshed.

"Which are?" Hawks asked as he lifted the bottle of water to his mouth and took a long sip.

"They, ah, want you held accountable for your numerous bird crimes."

Hawks abruptly choked, water spurting from the corner of his lips as he attempted to swallow the remaining liquid as he sputtered helplessly.

"My what? " He coughed, thumping solidly on his chest with a closed fist.

"Crimes! So many crimes!" The cardinal squawked. "Criminal!"

"Villain! Bad Hawk!" The hawk supplied, eager to distance herself from this other hawk's misdeeds.

"You seem to have acquired a terrible reputation amongst the bird population in the city. They're calling you a Villain," you explain ruefully, desperately wishing that you had woken up dead this morning so you could have avoided this entire mortifying ordeal.

"Tell me- tell me everything, " Hawks sputtered, staring intensely at the rioting birds with wide golden eyes.

Since you were the only person who could understand both human and avians, you were selected to mediate by default. The birds, unsurprisingly, chose the rabble-rousing cardinal as their representative.

"I'm going to let you out of the cage now," you told the cardinal, unlocking the door to his enclosure. "No funny business or you're going right back in, understood?"

"Yes," the cardinal groused, hopping up and down to psych himself up for confronting the number one bird-sona non grata.

"That means no biting."

"..."

"Agree not to bite or I'm leaving you in the cage."

"Fine," the cardinal agreed, puffing his feathers up in irritation. "No bite."

"Took him a while to agree to that rule," Hawks murmured uneasily, eyeing the cardinal's sharp orange beak.

"Yeah, they made up a song about biting you earlier and I think it got him really excited about the prospect."

"Oh, wow," Hawks said, a genuine thread of amazement lacing through his words. "They've really put a lot of effort into hating me."

"Yeah, they really have. It's super impressive, right?"

"No chatting!" The cardinal admonished, squeezing your finger with his tiny feet; talons prickling your skin. "List his crimes! Prepare for judgment!"

"Right, okay. So, their biggest complaint is that you're an inconsiderate flier," you begin, keeping an eye on the cardinal perched on your finger as he nods along to your words.

"Inconsiderate how?"

"For starters, you often fly through a flock. That makes them consider you a predator and unnecessarily stresses them out. It's an especially big deal during the spring when the females are incubating."

"I see," Hawks murmured, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

You listened closely to the clarifying chirp of the cardinal before addressing Hawks once more. "He says that you will also position yourself at the front of a flock, putting yourself in charge of navigation and end up leading them wildly off course."

"I had no idea," Hawks admitted with a sigh, grimacing under the beady glare of the cockatoo. "I was just enjoying their company while I flew."

"And that's kind of the underlying issue here," you point out, running a calming finger over the fluffy crest of feathers atop his head. "You're playing on their field but totally ignoring the rules of the game and just sowing chaos everywhere you fly."

"I feel like a complete jerk," Hawks admitted, moving his head so he was face to face with the feisty cardinal. "I'm sorry for causing trouble and making such a mess of things. I'll be much more conscious about how I fly in the future."

The cardinal was quiet on your finger, mulling over Hawk's words thoughtfully.

"Tell him more."

"Really?" You groan. "Can't you just accept his apology and move on?"

"Hear all crimes! Then retribution!"

"Okay, so are you ready to hear the rest?"

"There's more? " Hawks asked incredulously, staring at the cardinal with wide eyes.

"You better grab a seat," you advise him with a sigh. "It's a long list of complaints."

To his immense credit, Hawks sat through the translated tongue lashing with rapt attention, taking in each and every criticism with a solemn nod of his head. He was accused of everything from taking up all the best perches to not sharing the snacks he brought up onto rooftops with him. That one seemed especially egregious in the eyes of the birds, as the mere mention of unshared snacks past sent them into a wild screeching fit it took you minutes to calm them down from.

"Last crime," the cardinal proclaimed grandiosely, as though he was delivering a sermon from a pulpit and not yelling at an increasingly despondent man while perched on your finger. "Duck got head stuck in fence. Hawks took picture and laughed!"

"You laughed and took a picture of a duck that got its head stuck in a fence?"

"Yeah," Hawks winced, fingers running across the grooves in his water bottle nervously. "I freed them afterwards though!"

"After you laughed at them and took a picture, you mean?" You huffed, completely siding with the birds in this particular instance.

"Crimes done. Retribution now!" The cardinal chirped, sending the rest of the birds into an uproar of wildly flapping wings and agreeing squeaks.

"What's he saying?"

"He's, uh, calling for retribution."

"Feathers and blood!" The cardinal demanded.

"Feathers and blood!" The doves warbled in agreement.

"They're calling for your feathers and blood," you informed the Hero.

"And snacks!" The hawk added, the rest of the birds silent as they considered the added request.

"Yes, snacks!" The cardinal chirped in triumph as the rest of the birds joined him in his chant. "Snacks! Snacks! Snacks!"

"Feathers, blood…and snacks," you clarify, watching anxiously as Hawks' brow furrowed deeply in thought.

"I agree to your terms," Hawks said, holding out his extended index finger in front of the cardinal. "Blood and feathers now, with snacks to be delivered later. Deal?"

The cardinal, being a legitimately good representative for his species, turned to briefly confer with the rest of the birds before hopping from your finger onto Hawks'; the closest approximation to a handshake as they could get.

"It's a deal," you smiled brightly to Hawks, who returned your brilliant grin with one of his own that set off sharp pangs of nervousness in your belly. It had been easy to ignore how handsome he was while you were busy trying to quell a feathery uprising; but now that the panic that had been crashing through your body was abating, your brain had apparently decided you had more than enough brain cells free to contemplate how pleasing Hawks' appearance was.

He was a bit more disheveled than he was at the start of this entire debacle, hair tousled from where he had run his hands through it in bouts of sheepishness; but he still looked put together and expertly coiffed. You, on the other hand, could tell that an entire day spent in a sweltering room hadn't done you any favors by the way your uniform polo clung to your sweat-dampened skin. Suddenly self conscious and desperate for a shower, you puff your chest out in a false show of bravado and do your best to move things along.

"Alright, which do you want to do first? The blood or the feathers?"

The birds, by and large, considered giving up feathers to be the most important act of contrition and agreed that the request for blood was mostly just a ceremonial inclusion for traditions sake. But Hawks, determined to repent, ran one of his sharpened feathers across his forearm with no complaint; dulling the blood tipped feather and presenting it to the cardinal with a deep bow.

The cardinal accepted the offering with a pleased chirp, taking the feather in his beak and carefully tucking it in amongst his tail feathers. Hawks' plume, being about twice the length of the entire cardinal, trailed out comically from his tail and made him look like a far more exotic bird than he actually was.

"Atonement!" The cardinal cried, shaking his new tail feather for his comrades to see.

"So red!" A dove praised.

"Very shiny," the cockatoo nodded.

"Well, that's one down," Hawks said as he curled his left wing in front of his body, hands already running through his feathers as he carefully selected his next offering. "Who's next?"

"Me! Me! Me!" The birds chirped in unison, a great many hopping up and down in their excitement to possess a colorful new treasure.

"You don't have to give them all feathers, Hawks," you assured him as you frantically calculated how many birds you'd brought with you versus how many feathers he could probably surrender while still retaining his ability to fly. "I know you need them for your job."

"That's true," Hawks nodded as he plucked out another feather and presented it to a brown-headed thrush. "But I also need to hold myself accountable for my mistakes. The birds have very generously offered me a way to make things right, and I won't take this opportunity for granted."

You didn't know what to say so you opted instead for silence, watching intently as he methodically worked his way through the collected cages; respectful and solemn as he repeated the feather presentation for each and every bird.

The photographer had been thrilled when he returned to set and found Hawks in place on set, lounging bonelessly across the pillars with a collection of raptors perched around him. That excitement faded quickly when he saw the bare patches in Hawks' normally full wings, a far cry from the picture perfect style he'd be envisioning.

Hawks had simply run an admiring finger across the bright red feather tucked into an eagle's wing and proclaimed that 'He liked it better this way' and that was that. The photographer began barking orders and the crew jumped into action, adjusting light positioning and turning on a wind machine to ruffle everyone's feathers just so.

The rest of the shoot went by smoothly, and in no time at all you were refilling water dishes and loading up the cages into the back of the large box truck with the bird rescues' name and phone number stenciled onto the back. You cranked the AC up to the highest setting and sank down into the faux leather driver's seat, enjoying the merciless onslaught of frigid air on your overheated skin as you buckled up.

Peering into your side mirror, you were startled by the presence of the Number Two Hero illuminated in the red glow of your taillights. He was leaning out of the studio exit, a small smile tugging at his lips and a hand held up in farewell while you shifted the truck into drive and rolled out of the parking lot. The sharp shrill of birds complaining as you hit a pothole pulled your attention back to the road and away from Hawks' golden eyes; glowing brightly from the shadows.

It was hard not to think about Hawks as you cruised along on the empty highway, so you allowed yourself a brief flight of fancy; reminiscing about the scant distance between your bodies and the tangy redolence of his cologne.

It would be a good story to regale your coworkers with over drinks and to pull out at parties when you needed to impress someone; the tale of a bird rebellion and how Hawks managed to both literally and figuratively soothe the birds' ruffled feathers. A once in a lifetime meeting that you would think back fondly on, made ever more precious by the knowledge that such a thing would never occur again.

It wasn't like you to answer your personal phone at work, but it also wasn't something that had honestly ever happened before. Your family knew your work schedule and your friends all belonged to the very reasonable school of thought where they would rather drink poison than talk on the phone, so any communication from them would arrive in text form. Curious, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and swiped to answer; stomach plummeting to your feet when your camera booted up and you belatedly realized you'd accepted a request to video chat.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit, " you swore, reaching to press the disconnect button as Hawks' beaming face appeared on screen.

"Hey there!," he greeted cheerily, face disappearing from view as he momentarily fumbled with his phone.

"Hawks? " You croak in disbelief, quickly examining your appearance in the small facecam and hurriedly knocking a chunk of dried mealworm out of your hair.

"That's what they call me!"

"Are you- is everything okay?" You manage to stammer out, impressed that you managed to say actual words and not a series of confused grunts.

"Everything is fine! I was just calling to thank you for all your help a few weeks back," he explained, the camera drifting off to the side to show off the sprawling city skyline. Wherever Hawks was, he was up high. "Word has been getting around to all the birds around the city and I've noticed a definite shift in their demeanor."

"Oh? How so?"

"Well, for starters, they've stopped dive bombing me mid-flight. And they aren't pooping on that statue of me downtown nearly as much as they used to. Oh! And a couple days ago a crow brought me a couple of soda tabs," Hawks said proudly as he reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out a leather cord with some aluminum pieces tied into the middle. "So I turned them into a necklace!"

"Very stylish," you complimented sincerely, thinking about the box of bird gifted trinkets you had at home and how much each of those shiny bits of metal meant to you.

"And I've taken to carrying around some food for them- bird seed and raisins, mostly; so we can all hang out and eat together!"

"It really sounds like things have turned around for you. I'm glad."

"They really have," Hawks nodded eagerly, phone tilting off-kilter once again as a particularly strong gust blew by. "And it's all because of you."

"I think you're definitely downplaying that cardinal's excellent negotiation tactics," you reminded him as you shuffled a few papers across the top of a nearby desk, trying to distract yourself from the sense of unease you felt under the weight of both his attention and gratitude.

"Speaking of negotiations, did the treats I sent arrive safely? I would hate for this tentative peace we've achieved to crumble due to shipping errors."

"They did!" You assured him, spinning your phone around to point the camera at the large stack of express shipped boxes in the corner. "The birds were very excited when they arrived, but now that they know we have such a huge backlog they just keep bugging me about getting snacks all the time."

"Sorry about that. But sacrifices must be made in the name of peace," Hawks shook his head sadly.

"I think you're a bit more knowledgeable about sacrifices than I am. Are your replacement feathers coming in alright?"

"They've already fully grown back in, see?" He tilted his camera to landscape and extended one wing out to the side, fluffing his feathers to show off how nicely they'd filled in.

"Woah," you whistled in appreciation, cutting off the sound abruptly when you saw his cheeks flush, realizing how inappropriately he had taken your display of awe. "That's ah- really fast for full regrowth."

"That's sort of my thing, you know. Being fast," he smirked proudly before he suddenly froze, cheeks reddening even further as he seemed to sink his face down into the collar of his coat. "Well, uh- most of the time at least. Sometimes I'm slow though. When I want to be. I can be reeeeally slow."

Deciding to ignore his floundering since he had so graciously let your own bout of verbal idiocy pass unmentioned, you frantically gazed around the room and found the perfect segue to shift your conversation back into neutral waters.

"Do you want to see what they did with your feathers?"

"They kept them?" Hawks asked, voice hitching in excitement.

"More than that; they made art with them," you cheerfully explained, flipping the phone around to show off the wreath hanging in the window a handful of weaver birds had worked together to craft; Hawk's brilliant red feathers tucked and woven amongst reedy pieces of grass and straw. "Since there weren't enough feathers for every bird here at the rescue, they thought that displaying them publicly was more fair."

"Wow," Hawks breathed, impressed by both their craft skills and sense of equitability. "They're really taking this union thing seriously."

"You have no idea," you laughed dryly. "They're starting to talk about collecting dues. "

It was strange how quickly you became accustomed to communicating with Hawks. Calls were a rare occurrence due to how overwhelmingly busy he was pretty much every moment of the day. There were multiple instances where you would be texting, sending funny memes back and forth to each other, and then mere moments after his last message was sent you would see him flash across the screen in a live news broadcast. A blur of red and beige swooping in to pull civilians out of harm's way or expertly apprehend Villains without breaking a sweat.

Knowing how full Hawks' schedule was made you even more appreciative of that evening he'd spent with you and the birds all those weeks ago. You had thought that the feathers were the most valuable thing he had given up that day, but you now knew that his time was an infinitely more precious commodity.

So you treasured each moment that he chose to share with you, regardless of the form it took. Snapshots of cute birds he'd seen on patrol, lengthy personal reviews of what had to be every fried chicken restaurant in the city, and picking up the phone whenever he was free to chat.

Even when that call came in at four in the morning, like today.

"You should try to eat breakfast before you crash for the night," you reminded him, tone a touch scolding because this was not the first time you'd had to remind him to make time for a meal.

"I don't like breakfast foods," Hawks grumbled, lip stuck out in a deep pout as he trudged towards his kitchen.

"You don't have to eat breakfast foods, you just have to eat, " you huff in exasperation, grabbing a box of cereal from your pantry, hoping that a healthy dose of peer pressure might tip the scales in your favor. "Cold pizza was invented for pretty much this exact purpose."

"I don't think I have any pizza," Hawks muttered, prying open the double doors of his fridge and examining the contents critically. "I think I have the stuff for a sandwich though."

"Sandwiches are good. They meet all the necessary desperation meal requirements."

"Which are?" Hawks asked as he shoved a packet of lunch meat into the crook of his arm and sent a couple of feathers in to grab condiments so he wouldn't have to set down his phone.

"They contain calories and don't dirty up too many dishes," you explain, hip checking your own fridge closed as you grab a carton of milk. "Handfuls of cheese you eat over the sink are also a classic choice."

"What are you eating?"

"Cereal," you say, holding up your bowl of puffed grains next to your face for his inspection.

"Ugh, gross," he says, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"I'm going to toss some berries on top."

"That doesn't make the cereal better, that just makes the berries worse, " he complained as he squirted a generous serving of mayonnaise across a slice of bread, paused, and then squeezed on some more.

"Hey, now! If I wanted this level of judgment before the sun came up I would talk to my Grandma instead," you huffed, shoving a spoonful of cereal into your mouth and bringing the microphone closer to your jaw to subject Hawks to the loudest crunching sounds you could manage.

"I- sorry," he sighed, shoulders drooping in exhaustion. "I didn't mean to be so prickly. Today was…really rough."

"I know," you said soothingly. "I saw the News. Even went to bed early because I thought you might call."

"Thank you," he says, voice small so it could slip past the emotions welling in his throat. "For picking up."

"Anytime, Hawks," you assured him, eyes darting to the time displayed in the upper corner of your phone screen. "Literally."

You, 11:45am

"Hey, Hawks? I have a question."

Hawks, 11:52am

"Of course! What's up?"

You, 11:53am

"I've been wondering for a while now- how did you get my phone number?"

Hawks, 1:15pm

"I saw the rescue logo on the back of the truck when you were leaving the photo shoot."

"Called them up and told them how impressed I was with your professionalism and how I wanted to thank you personally."

You, 1:18pm

"And they just gave you my number?!"

Hawks, 1:20pm

"Yep. Major breach of confidentiality. You might want to look into that, actually.

"They didn't ask me to verify my identity or anything!"

You, 1:22

"Gotta go. I need to send a strongly worded letter to HR."

Hawks, 1:25

"Make sure to start it with a 'To Whom It May Concern'; let them know you really mean business!"

The familiar jingle of Hawk's custom ringtone only sounded for a moment before you were able to swap which hand was holding onto your grocery basket and fish your phone out of your back pocket.

"Hey, there!" Hawks greeted, smile strained as he waved his arm around frantically at something off screen. "Can I- Ugh! Ask for a favor in a- argh! Professional capacity?"

"Uh, sure?" You agreed, re-shelving a can of soup you were having second thoughts about.

"Great!" Hawks shouted in relief, pulling a flailing pigeon into frame, reeling back momentarily as he took a wing straight to the face. "This little cutie has been following me for hours , trying to- oof! Get my attention and I'm starting to get very curious as to their underlying motivation."

"Maybe she just wants an autograph?" You joke, snorting in amusement as Hawks dodged another hit from the distressed bird.

"I'll give her whatever she wants if she just- ugh ! Stops hitting me!"

You whistled shrilly, gaining the attention of nearby shoppers and the pigeon on Hawks' end; the bird stilling in his hands at your call. "Hey, little pigeon. What's going on?"

The pigeon launched into a series of urgent coos, head bobbing along frantically with her cries.

"Are you sure?" You asked, eyes wide as she cooed in confirmation, heaving a relieved sigh that her message had been successfully conveyed.

"What? What is it?" Hawks asked anxiously, cradling the bird snugly to his chest now that she wasn't a thrashing mass of beak and talons.

"She says, ah-," you pause, looking around at all the shoppers lingering about you with prying eyes. Flashing them a wobbly smile, you quickly shuffle off towards the other end of the store, dropping your voice to a whisper in a bid for some level of confidentiality. "She says that she knows where they're hiding all the drugs?"

It's quiet for a moment as Hawks peers down at the pigeon in his hands with comically wide eyes before he shifts into a more professional demeanor; shooting a too-bright smile at you through his phone.

"I've gotta' go now! Bye!"

Your phone kicks you back to your home screen as he hangs up, leaving you staring at your phone; dumbfounded by the abrupt turn of events.

A few days passed before you heard from Hawks again, and when the next call came in he wasn't alone.

"This is Cookie," he beamed as he proudly introduced the familiar pigeon perched on his shoulder. "Get it? Because you can't spell 'Cookie' without 'coo'? And she's a pigeon? And pigeons-"

"-pigeons say 'coo'. Yeah, I get it," you groan miserably. After years working at the rescue you had limited patience for bird jokes and were pretty sure you had heard them all hundreds of times by this point. Unfortunately for you, Hawks seemed to have acquired puns as a second language and was determined to impress you with his fluency.

"Anyway, it turns out Cookie has a real knack for surveillance. She led me right to a massive distribution center that was operating right under our noses."

"Is it okay for you to be telling me all of this?"

"Probably not!" Hawks laughed, bringing a finger up to give Cookie an affectionate scratch at the side of her head. "Anyway, I hope you weren't too attached to that dim sum place downtown. It was totally a drug front."

"Wait- the one with the little ginger dumplings?" You gasped in dawning horror.

"The very same."

"And the chef-?"

"The ringleader of the entire operation, I'm afraid."

"God dammit!"

"So they pack me up, ship me across the country to some far flung zoo to talk to their penguin in person because he's, and I quote, 'camera shy'. And do you know how that little gremlin thanked me?" You ranted into your phone, freshly clad in an old pair of pajamas with your skin still dewy from your flesh-searingly hot shower.

"He threw up on you, didn't he?" Hawks said, poorly disguising his restrained laughter with a forced cough.

"He threw up on me !" You screeched, throwing your hands up into the air as you fell backwards onto the couch, accidentally smacking yourself in the face with the corner or your phone during your uncontrolled plummet. "Ouch!"

"You alright?" Hawks asked, voice muffled from your speaker being pressed into the couch cushions.

"Yes. And no?" you sigh, rubbing a fist across the rising welt on your temple while you propped your phone up on your stomach, providing Hawks with the most unflattering viewing angle of your face as possible. "Just wishing things were different, I guess?"

"What sorts of things?" Hawks asked quietly, the distant beacons on airplane wings blinking methodically in the night sky behind him; false stars in a pollution filled sky.

"I don't know. Everything? I wish I had a different job, one where penguins didn't vomit on me. Or a different Quirk. Just- an entirely different life, sometimes."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I thought," Hawks paused, allowing himself to carefully select his words. "I thought you liked your job?"

"I do. Most of the time, at least. But it also feels like I never really have a choice, you know? Like, what else could I really do with a Quirk like mine?"

"You could always not use your Quirk," he said, gaze intensely focused away from his phone on some distant point on the horizon you couldn't see. "Get a job doing something entirely different."

"I didn't want to when I was a kid- use my Quirk, I mean. I wanted to be a doctor. And a best-selling author. And a ninja."

"Quite the triple threat."

"Yeah," you chuckled, thinking back on all the crayon drawings you had made, scribbles of a distant future that would never come to pass. "But everyone said it would be a waste to not use my natural-born talent, especially since it's a moderately useful one."

"I've always wanted to be Hero. For as long as I can remember, that's always been my dream," Hawks stated flatly, with the same lackluster affect of someone discussing the weather; an automatic response honed through years of systematic repetition. "But I get it."

"You do?"

"Yeah," he swallowed thickly, focusing his attention back onto you; eyes glistening strangely with reflections of the city lights.

"It's hard being… pigeonholed into a profession."

"Hawks, noooooo," you groan piteously. "We were having a moment! And you ruined it!"

"I'm sorry!" He lied, head thrown back as he cackled.

"I'm hanging up now," you grumbled, more amused than you were irritated but determined not to let Hawks know that.

"Don't go! I'll be lonely without you!"

"Cookie will keep you company. Won't you, girl?"

At the mention of her name, the pigeon poked her head out from where she was nestled inside of Hawks' collar, cooing her agreement.

"I still can't believe you commissioned a tiny visor for her," you snorted in delight at the miniature replica of Hawks' headset perched on top of Cookie's beak.

"What? She needed it!" Hawks defended, drawing his collar shut and pulling Cookie in more snugly towards his chest. "Her eyes were drying out when I flew too fast!"

"Uh-huh. Sure they were."

"They were! And besides, she likes wearing it," he insists petulantly before he is carried away by a sudden wave of uncertainty. "Right?"

"She does," you assure him. "Cookie really loves being with you, Hawks."

"Really?" He whispered, staring down at the bird in awe, who cooed happily and nuzzled her head into his chin.

A quiet moment stretched on between you, silent except for the sound of your breathing and the distant wail of a car alarm.

"For the record, I think your Quirk is amazing," Hawks said sincerely. "You have this entire extra world you get to communicate with. That's pretty special."

"I guess," you say with a sigh, pushing up into a sitting position with the naive aspirations of mustering up the energy to make it to bed in the next hour or two. "But it's not like they're particularly great conversationalists. Once Spring rolls around I just have to deal with listening to hundreds of voices outside my window screaming about how horny they are for weeks on end."

"You prefer a more subtle seduction method then?" Hawks asked, tone playful and also somehow entirely inappropriate.

"Just a smidgen," you laugh nervously, steadfastly ignoring the frantic beating of your heart.

"I'll make a note of that."

You had grown so used to looking at Hawks through your phone screen that seeing him in person, bursting through the doors of the rescue, was as startling as having ice shoved down the back of your shirt. And that feeling of alarm was quickly upgraded to absolute panic by the fact that he was covered in blood splatter and cradling Cookie's limp and twisted body in his hands.

"HELP!" Hawks yelled, eyes darting wildly around the room as he searched for assistance. There wasn't even time for a single breath between Hawks spotting you and then him suddenly being at your side; a gust of air heralding his arrival before your eyes could even begin to try to focus on where he had been.

"Please! You have to help! Cookie she- she's hurt," Hawks pleaded, his eyes wild as he cradled his injured friend to his chest.

"Let me see," you ordered firmly, prying open Hawks' shaking hands to get a better look at the bird.

"Cold," Cookie warbled weakly when Hawks' hands were pulled away from her body.

"Shh, I know sweet girl," you said soothingly, lifting her as carefully as you could into your own grasp.

"Hawks hurt? Hawks okay?"

"What is it?" Hawks asked anxiously. "What's she saying?"

"She wants to know if you're hurt."

"No," Hawks assured her, voice cracking as he ran soothing fingers across a patch of disheveled feathers between her eyes. "I'm just fine, thanks to you."

"I need to take Cookie now, Hawks," you informed him gently, "I'll take good care of her. I promise."

"I know," he sniffed, wiping damp cheeks onto the sleeve of his coat. "I trust you."

It was hard witnessing Hawks' desperation; seeing someone who was normally a paragon of strength so visibly shaken. It made you scared, having to be strong and brave; to help when a Hero couldn't.

But you could be brave, just this once.

For Hawks' sake.

Just like you, the rest of the staff at the bird rescue had been cherry picked to provide the highest level of Avian care possible. So while Cookie had been grievously injured with an absolutely staggering number of blunt force fractures, there was likely no better place in the city she could have been brought to for treatment.

Cookie had made it through numerous scans and a long operation, but you knew that was only the beginning of her struggle. Her road to recovery would be a long one, and she would likely never be able to fly as well as she did before after having the bones in her left wing nearly ground to dust. But you couldn't bring yourself to feel too discouraged by that bit of bad news in the face of Cookie's near miraculous survival.

There hadn't been anything for you to do during the surgery since you didn’t possess any sort of veterinary license, but Hawks had entrusted Cookie to you and it felt wrong to just leave her. You knew your coworkers well and had the utmost faith in their capabilities, but you'd been determined to stay there beside her should the worst have come to pass.

So you'd tucked yourself into a corner, already overwhelmed and ready to leave before the scalpel had even made its first incision. You’d watched as they cut and tugged and stitched; blood running and bones popping and Quirks glowing. And dear lord, the smells-

It was the absolute worst thing you’d ever witnessed in your life.

But Hawks had trusted you with this; to be where he couldn’t.

And you wouldn't let him down.

Hawks sprang up from his stolen chair behind the reception desk as you stumbled back to the front of the building, heartbeat thundering as images from the surgery clung to the inside of your eyelids; replaying with gruesome clarity every time you blinked.

"How is she?" He asked breathlessly, eager to hear the news but dreading the likely outcome.

“Cookie made it through surgery,” you said, voice too loud as you attempted to make yourself heard over the ringing in your ears. “She’ll survive.”

“Oh, thank God,” Hawks gasped in relief, his words distant and muffled. “I don’t know how to thank you for this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, waving off his gratitude right before you bent forward and threw up all over his boots.

You, 2:14am

“Once again: I’m so sorry about the vomit.”

Hawks, 2:15am

“I told you, it’s fine! Stop apologizing.”

You, 2:15am

“Never. I am going to be apologizing about this for the rest of my life.”

“Every time we meet I’ll be like, ‘Hey, Hawks! How are you? Sorry about horking on your boots that one time.’”

Hawks, 2:17am

“Listen, at least this time you were the one throwing up on a bird instead of having a bird throw up on you!"

You, 2:18am

“You’re not a bird though.”

Hawks, 2:20am

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

You, 2:21am

“I want you to be ASLEEP.”

Hawks, 2:23am

“Best I can do is propping up my feet and chugging an energy drink.”

You, 2:24am

“That isn’t even remotely close to an acceptable substitute.”

Hawks, 2:26am

“That’s all you’re getting. Take it or leave it.”

You, 2:28am

"Fine. But I'm going to tell Cookie you're not taking care of yourself."

Hawks, 2:28am

"Oh, that's low."

You, 2:29am

"I literally threw up on the Number Two Hero yesterday. I cannot possibly get any lower than I already am. I might as well just double down and enjoy the perks of my new bottom dweller status."

You were changing out the bedding in Cookie's cage when she saw it.

"Hawks feathers?" She warbled excitedly at the sight of the brilliant red wreath hanging in the window.

"Oh! Yeah, those are Hawks' feathers all right. Good eye."

"I see?"

"Do you want to perch there while I finish cleaning out your cage?"

"Please," Cookie cooed eagerly, practically vibrating with excitement. It was the most energetic you had seen her since her operation and you were happy to indulge her whims.

"Here you go," you said, lowering her gently into the inner hollow of the wreath. Mindful of her injuries, Cookie nestled down happily into the tangle of grass and feathers.

By the time you had sanitized everything in the cage and tucked a warm water bottle into her bed, Cookie had fallen fast asleep in the cradle of feather wreath. Heart melting, you crept closer on silent feet and took a dozen pictures at various angles and filter settings to send to Hawks later.

You felt a familiar weight settle on your shoulder, needle-like nails scraping for purchase against your skin as the cardinal joined you in observing Cookie's rest.

"Is this okay?" You asked, knowing how important the wreath was to all the birds in the rescue and unsure if napping spot was one of the agreed upon uses for it. To your immense relief, the cardinal bobbed his head in affirmation.

"From each by ability, to each by need," he chirped firmly.

"'To each by need '…?" You echo suspiciously with narrowed eyes. "Has someone been reading Karl Marx to you again?

"The proletariat has nothing to lose but chains!"

After many weeks of worried video calls and unapproved after hours visits that your boss chose to turn a blind eye to after Hawks made a hefty donation, Cookie was ready to be released back into Hawks' care.

"So I need you to sign these discharge papers," you tell Hawks, tapping multiple spaces on the cover page that required his initials and signature. "Mostly just standard release stuff, detailing the treatment plan listing the dates for follow up visits, etcetera, etcetera."

"Got it," Hawks agreed, having one of his feathers sign for him since he was loath to stop cuddling with Cookie for a single instant.

"This one says that I've informed you of all the recommended follow up care."

"Uh-huh," he grinned, happily nuzzling his nose against Cookie's beak as his feather kept scribbling.

"This one says that we cannot be held legally responsible for anything that happens to her once she leaves the rescue."

"Sure," he agreed, chuckling as Cookie nipped playfully at his jaw; feather still dutifully signing away.

"And this one is the list of demands drawn up by Cookie's union."

Hawks paused, brow furrowing as Cookie continued to pluck at his beard scruff.

"The what now?"

Hawks paced as he read through the notes you had typed up on Cookie's behalf. As much as the pigeon adored Hawks and couldn't wait to get back to working alongside him, the cardinal had proven himself to be an incredibly persuasive orator and managed to convince Cookie to submit a list of demands.

"'The Union of Working Birds, henceforth to be referred to as 'The Birds of Pay'', " Hawks snorted in delight. "-'formally submit the following requests. Number one: guaranteed housing'. Done."

"Didn't figure you'd object to that one," you said, having helped Hawks painstakingly pick out supplies to house and care for Cookie in his apartment.

"'Number 2: food will be provided in compensation for labor and will be appropriately calculated by bird weight and provided daily'. No complaints there-," he murmured, voice trailing off as he continued reading as he strode around the room; drawing to a sudden halt about five pages in.

"The demands seem to shift a bit around number forty-tree," Hawks said, clearing his throat dramatically before he began reading aloud again. "'The Birds of Pay retain exclusive rights for requesting avian-based employment with the Hawks Hero Agency'."

"Influence works both ways, Hawks. Just like Cookie was swayed by the cardinal's talk of worker's rights, a lot of the other birds were really impressed by the stories Cookie told about you," you explained. "At this point, you could employ an entire flock of birds if you wanted to."

The air inside your office was the perfect temperature, the thermostat set to exactly where you liked it and not a single degree higher or lower. The furniture selection was a bit too fancy for your liking, polished marble and smudge proof glass where you felt tile and laminate would have sufficed for a fraction of the cost.

But it wasn't your job to understand the aesthetic design choices of Heroes. Your job was to mind the birds.

"Songbird 2, do you copy?" You spoke clearly into your headset listening closely to the responding chirps; eyes glued to the live video feed playing across your screen. "We have all the footage we need. Return to the Aviary, over."

You breathed a sigh of relief as the blackbird chirped in acknowledgement, the video feed shifting from the inside of an abandoned warehouse to a wide expanse of sky as they began to make their way back toward Hawks' agency. It had been a long day of staking out the area of an upcoming Hero Commission raid, but Songbird 2 was the last of the scouts still deployed. The blackbird's return would herald the end of your workday, and you were excited to finally be able to go home indulge in the carton of ice cream you'd been fantasizing about for hours.

"Home safe," the blackbird announced as it flew in through the window that had slid open automatically at their approach; the mechanism responding to the proximity sensor built into the standard Hawks style headgear each bird was equipped with.

"Thank goodness," you smiled, pulling off the tiny headset and visor and setting them to the side for cleaning later. "Your food dish is filled up and waiting."

"Corn?" The blackbird asked, fluffing up its feathers in excitement.

"Why don't you go check and see?"

The blackbird flew quickly towards the cubbyhole it had claimed for its own, one of many set into the large back wall; each filled with lovingly crafted nests and bright wooden toys. You heard the distant cry of 'Corn!' followed by a chorus of shushing sounds from the birds that had been pulled from sleep by the blackbird's delighted cry.

Shaking your head with an amused snort, you move to return to your desk to log out for the day, only to run headlong into Hawks' chest.

"ACK!" You screeched, reeling back in surprise from the impact.

"SHHHHH!" The wall of irritated birds hissed.

"Sorry!" You whispered sheepishly, channeling your embarrassment into making the glare you leveled at Hawks extra piercing.

"All done for the day?" Hawks asked, unmoved by your display of irritation.

"Yep. Everyone is back safe and sound, the surveillance footage has been submitted for review, and now all that remains is for me to clock out and head home," you said as you wandered over to your desk, dropping down into your swivel chair to exit out of the last handful of open programs you had running. "Do you need anything before I leave?"

"Can we chat? For just a little?" He asked as he leaned against your desk, putting far more faith in the structural integrity of the tempered glass than you do. "We haven't really had time to talk recently."

"I know," you groaned, heaving a deep sigh as you shoved your empty water bottle into the side pocket of your work bag. "I've just been so busy getting set up here and making sure the birds are acclimating well. And then this big stakeout dropped into my lap and it's just been so crazy-"

"Is that- are you okay here? I know Hero work is a lot sometimes and I just-," he paused, letting out a quiet huff. "I just want to make sure you're happy here."

"I am, I think. It's definitely more stressful than working at the rescue, but I feel like I have more purpose here? Like I'm more than just the person who talks to birds."

"Now you're the person who talks to birds with spy gear. "

"Exactly!" you laughed. "It's totally different."

"I'm glad you're happy," Hawks smiled, one of his real ones that crinkled his nose and made your knees a little weak. "I've been thinking about making some personal changes myself."

"Oh? What kind of changes?"

"Something like this," he mumbled heatedly, the shift in his tone prompting you to swivel both your head and chair in his direction.

And then suddenly, his lips were pressed to yours. Hopelessly chapped from hours of constant flying but oh so warm against your own. It was short and sweet, a simple sort of kiss; but it stirred up so many complex feelings you were used to keeping caged up inside your chest.

"That's quite the change," you whispered against his lips, trying to remember the exact sequence of steps required for breathing.

"It's been a long time coming, I think."

"I wholeheartedly agree. But I'm ah- not so sure I should be kissing my boss?" You remark apprehensively. "I really like both you and this job and don't want to risk losing either."

"We set you up to work as an independent contractor, so technically you're your own boss," Hawks assured you, hands clasping your waist as he moved to pull you in for a second kiss. "And even if it isn't allowed, I'd absolutely commit some bluebird- collar crimes for you."

"Hawks!" You huff, swatting at his shoulder in reprimand. "I can't believe you just ruined our first kiss with a bird pun."

"A kiss? No, that was just a peck ," Hawks chortled at your pained groan. "This is a kiss."

With a firm tug Hawks pulled your body flush with his as his lips descended, and with the fresh addition of his tongue and teeth you couldn't bring yourself to mind the puns all that much anymore.

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