#and then like ten years later he's just walking along minding his own business

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Stuck Between a Jock and a Metalhead

Summary: Nancy, on a whim, decides to visit Steve at Scoops Ahoy, which leads to her overhearing confessions from Steve that leads her to think about the decisions she's made. A few days later, she decides to come back. She finds him being hit on by the town freak. What's a girl to do? Oh, get stuck in a freezer with the both of them.

A/N: I imagine Colbie Smulders as Lily.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Nancy sighed as she lay in bed, staring up at her ceiling. Technically, she was no longer grounded, and she could leave the house if she wanted to, but around this time, she would be heading to the newspaper. That was out of the question, considering she lost her job. Was she still fired? Tom was possessed by the Mind Flayer at the time. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about it or to feel guilty about all of the times she hated Tom. She also tried not to think about Hopper's funeral would be tomorrow. A soft knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts.

"Come in," Nancy called out.

Mike's head appeared in the doorway before he came all the way in. He looked downtrodden.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," Mike said softly.

"I'm not really sure," Nancy said softly.

"Yeah, me neither," Mike said. "I still can't believe that Hopper is. . ."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Nancy said.

"We didn't get along, and I was rude to him, but he did help us out. I just hope he didn't think. . .," Mike trailed off.

"He knew how much you cared about him and how much you cared about El," Nancy said softly. "El was his only daughter, and I think it was her extenuating circumstances that made him on edge. I mean, you two have a lot in common. After you thought El was dead, you weren't exactly the happiest person to be around. You were very rude to Max and extremely protective of letting her into your group, kind of protective like Hopper was with El."

"Yeah, I guess so," Mike sniffed.

Nancy got up and hugged her brother tightly. She pulled back and smiled.

"You're getting too tall," Nancy said. "Asshole."

She was about to say something else when the phone on her beside table rang. Nancy spoke quickly and eagerly before hanging it up.

"What was that about?" Mike asked.

"I got my job back at the post!" Nancy grinned. "They got a new Editor!"

"Already?" Mike asked.

"Well, the one female reporter didn't want one the assholes to become the new Editor, so they called in a favor with a friend. The new editor is going to be a woman from a competing newspaper. The new mayor is hoping to clean house and reopen businesses that were closed because of the mall," Nancy said. "And he is hoping to clean up Klein's mess as quickly as possible."

"Man, Eddie's lucky he got to witness Joyce slug the guy," Mike said.

"I got to admit. I'm a bit jealous myself," Nancy said. "Anyway, she wants to meet me, so I guess I'm going in today."

After allowing her mother to drop her off, Nancy walked into the building and headed directly towards the editor's office. A woman with long dark hair and a powder blue pantsuit was unpacking her new office. A nameplate sat on the desk: Lillian Barnes. It matched the name on the diploma on the wall from Emerson College. Nancy stared at it for a while, imaging her own name there.

"It has a great journalism program," the woman's voice startled her out of her musings.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Barnes," Nancy blinked.

"It's Lily, please, and you never have to apologize to me for being ambitious," Lily replied.

Nancy realized that her eyes were just as blue as her pantsuit, and the woman was very tall. She practically towered over Nancy.

"It's a great school?" Nancy asked.

"The best, in my opinion. I might be biased. It was home away from home for me for quite a few years, and it certainly never let me down," Lily said and sat down before pointing at the seat in front of her. "And I love Boston. Do you have a particular college in mind, yet?"

"Not really, keeping my options open," Nancy said. "I plan on applying to lots of places."

"Smart. Well, if you plan to get a degree in journalism, then my suggestion would be to apply to Emerson as well," Lily said.

"I might just take your suggestion," Nancy grinned. "I'm looking forward to seeing what you bring to the table here."

"I bet you are," Lily said. "I bet it was frustrating working with people who are so misogynistic, not to speak ill of the dead or anything."

"It was frustrating, and I did come close to quitting, but then I realized that's probably what they wanted me to. I didn't want to give up this job, and I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me quit," Nancy said.

"Determined, I like that. What made you get involved with journalism?" Lily asked.

"My friend, Barb, she went missing a while back. Turns out her death was covered up by Hawkins Lab. It had been a chemical spill," Nancy said.

"And who uncovered the truth, I wonder," Lily said, her eyes sparkling.

"I broke into the lab and got them on tape admitting to the cover up, then I worked with a former reporter to reveal the truth," Nancy said and Lily laughed.

"Damn. I like you," Lily said. "Tell me, are you willing to use that same stubbornness that used for your friend to find the truth for other people?"

"Absolutely," Nancy said without hesitation.

"Well, it's definitely going to be interesting working with you. I'll be sad to see you go once school starts, but until then, I'll be putting you to work. Now, you'll still be an intern and do the usual things like answering phones, but I'm not going to waste your other skills either," Lily said.

"Thank you! You won't be disappointed!" Nancy exclaimed.

"I know I won't," Lily grinned. "I look forward to seeing what you bring to the table, Nancy."

A weird feeling settled over her as she started to work throughout the day. Slowly, but surely, life was moving forward, and it felt strange because it was still happening even without Hopper. Nancy knew it was strange to think that time would stop because he did, that the whole world would come to a complete crashing halt because Jim Hopper had died. But no, Jim Hopper had died, and the world kept turning. It left an odd, bitter feeling in her stomach. There was one less grown-up who could keep them safe, and suddenly, Nancy didn't feel quite so safe anymore. She had decided to walk back home after work. She made sure to call her mom and let her know. As she was walking she saw Otis's salon door open and Steve's car out front. Nancy started moving and walked in to find Steve playfully arguing with Robin. He brightened when he saw Nancy.

"Hey, Nance, my parents and siblings just left," Steve said.

"What?" Nancy asked.

"Oh, the Sinclairs and the Hendersons adopted Steve," Robin said.

"Well, that's good. You definitely deserve it," Nancy grinned.

She stepped into his space and pressed her cheek up against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"What's this?" Steve asked.

"Oh my God. You're so damaged you can't even recognize a hug," Robin said and Nancy giggled.

"Very funny, Robin," Steve said.

"I got my job back at the Post," Nancy said. "There's a new editor and she's amazing."

"That's great!" Steve said. "You deserve it, Nancy."

Nancy sighed, and she gazed up at him.

"I'm not ready for tomorrow," Nancy said softly.

"Neither am I," Steve whispered and kissed her forehead. "I think my lip has done enough healing to risk a little pain."

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Worth it," Steve said.

"Are you guys allowed to kiss without Eddie here?" Robin asked.

"Yes," Steve and Nancy scoffed.

"I wasn't sure how three people relationships work. Hell, I'm not even sure how people relationships work," Robin said.

Nancy grinned and moved to wrap her arms around Steve’s neck. She pressed her lips to his and sighed in contentment. Kissing Steve again felt a lot like coming home. It was warm, familiar, and safe. She giggled when she felt him smile against her lips. She pulled back when she felt him wince but stayed wrapped up in his arms. No, she definitely wasn't ready for tomorrow, but she felt like she could get through it with Steve there and Eddie. She knew, though, that Eddie would be there mostly for his sister. She burrowed deeper into Steve’s arms, trying to get the image of a sad El out of her head.

The next day dawned bright and early. Nancy woke up before anyone else in her house and sat at her desk, her journal open before her. She stared at the blank page, not knowing what to write, and she sat there until the sun finally came up. Nancy stared at the clock. Time to get ready. Her movements were slow as she showered and put on her black dress. How many times were they going to have to do this? The ride to the church was quiet, and Nancy sat in the back with her siblings, sharing looks with her brother over Holly's head. When they walked into the church, Nancy spotted Eddie standing awkwardly at the front. He was wearing a borrowed suit that hung off his lanky frame. Nancy moved forward to greet him. His eyes lit up when he saw her and immediately pulled her into a hug.

"Glad you're here," Eddie said with a smile.

"Where's El?" Nancy asked.

"Oh, she's in the back with Uncle Wayne and Joyce. She's not handling it very well, which is understandable. I was a basket case myself when my mom died. It helped having Wayne there, though. She hasn't been sleeping, and she tried to run away once because she thought she was being too much," Eddie said and ran his hands over his face, carefully avoiding his nose.

"You haven't slept either," Nancy said softly.

"How can I when I have nightmares of my own?" Eddie asked softly. "And when I'm not having nightmares of my own, it's El. It's back and forth so Wayne's not getting any sleep either. When I'm not having the nightmares, I lay awake at night trying to figure out how to help my own little sister with hers."

"I'm not sure if there's anything you can do except to let her know that you're not going anywhere," Nancy said softly.

"Yeah," Eddie said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Talking about your own will probably let her know that she's not alone," Nancy said.

"This sucks," Eddie muttered.

A moment later, El was coming out from the back of the church, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She approached Nancy and hugged her.

"Thank you for coming," El said softly.

"You're welcome, is there anything that I can do?" Nancy asked.

El shook her head and then she moved past Nancy when she saw Mike. They hugged tightly, El clinging to him as tight as she could. It was then that Nancy noticed Steve walk through the door with Robin. He moved politely through the crowd of people and made his way over to them. He hugged Nancy, kissed her cheek, and then hugged Eddie tightly. El broke away from Mike and moved to wrap her arms around her brother's waist. Lucas, Dustin, and Max arrived last. Lucas and Dustin were with their parents, but Max was by herself. She was by El's side in an instant and stayed there, ignoring everyone else. Nancy heart broke at the thought of Max suffering through her own loss, and she remembered that Max had to watch her own stepbrother die. They all went through too much shit.

Eddie, Wayne, El, and the Byers sat up front while the rest of the party sat behind them. The pastor stood in front of an empty coffin and spoke empty platitudes about a man he didn't really know. If only he knew what Hopper had really done for them, for everyone in this damn town. It was Joyce who stood up and spoke about the man she had known for years that drove the party to tears. It was Joyce who struggled to keep it together, and Nancy knew that this woman had one foot out the door. When they moved things to the cemetery, El had to be carried by Wayne to the grave site.

"What are we going to do now?" Dustin asked as they lowered Hopper's empty coffin into the ground.

Nancy shared a look with Steve, Robin, and Eddie. They realized at the same time that with one less adult in the know, these kids were going to need them now more than ever. What are they going to do if it all happens again? Suddenly, they didn't just lose the greatest man they ever knew, but in some way, they officially lost the last bit of childhood they had been clinging to. It was time to grow up now and make sure that these kids still had something to hang onto.

Chapter Thirteen

#stranger things #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #nancy wheeler x steve harrington #stancy #eddie munson #nancy wheeler x eddie munson #edancy #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie #nancy wheeler x steve harrington x eddie munson #stedancy #nessie #bisexual eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #pansexual nancy wheeler #pan4bi4bi #robin buckley #lesbian robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic stobin #platonic reddie #platonic ronance #stranger things fanfiction

[imasexypotato]

Lucemond fic idea:(more like this is the whole

fic😂)

Canon Divergence AU

-Lucerys(16)

-Aemond(19)

[This is set to like a year before Lucerys' claim to Driftmark is threatened]

After the eye incident on Driftmark , King Viserys makes Rhaenyra and her family spend at least half of the year in Kingslanding every year before going back to Dragonstone for the other half , as a way of trying to get his family to bond. This means that the greens and the blacks have many interactions with each other.

Ten years of this exchange pass and tension is still high. Rhaenyra has more of a presence at her father's court. Her and Alicent are constantly at each others throats during countless council meetings. Daemon offers to train Aemond and Aegon as a sign of goodwill (he just wants to beat them up a little). Jace, Luke and Rhaena end up getting along really well with Heleana, and the four are usually seen together at all times of the day. Heleana's kids are especially fond of lucerys since he plays lots of games with them. Baela lives with Rhaenys in Driftmark.

While the targaryen family is still very much divided, people at court and even Viserys notice that things are slowly starting to get better. Eventually, even Aegon is interacting and getting along with everyone. Things seem peaceful until Lord Corlys arrives with bad news. The triarchy has full control over the stepstones. He urges King viserys to do something about it before it's too late. Viserys doesn't listen to Corlys and instead decides to turn a blind eye to the triarchies' antics.

~~~~~~

Over the years, Luke has barely interacted with Aemond. They've sometimes come across each other while going to the dragonpit or while training outdoors. There have been a few times where they happened upon each other at the library and simply sat in silence and minded their own business. Luke took this as a good sign. He had even caught him smiling once when Heleana had asked them to play with the kids.

It's the time of the year when the blacks are getting ready to head back to Dragonstone. This year Lucerys wants to try his luck and goes to apologise to Aemond for cutting his eye. Luke thinks that since he's sort of getting along with most of the greens, apologising to Aemond won't be too hard. He thought wrong.

The moment lucerys tries to apologise, Aemond explodes . He shouts at him and tells him he would never forgive him for taking his eye . He tells Lucerys that the only reason he hasn't taken his eye out is because he's waiting for the right moment. Lucerys tries to speak, but Aemond just keeps on ranting about how he pretends to tolerate him for the sake of his family and how he wishes for nothing but pain to befall him. Lucerys leaves with tears in his eyes.

The night before the Blacks are to return to Dragonstone, Luke decides to take a walk through the gardens. He doesn't know how it happens , but one moment he's walking in silence, and the next he's being knocked out.

When he wakes up, he finds himself locked in a cell with no way out. There is no one around. The people guarding his cell won't speak to him. They barely look human. He doesn't know how many days pass by until someone opens the cell door. He looks up and sees a mop of white hair being tossed inside. It's Aemond.

He asks him what's going on, and Aemond tells him to shut up. They don't speak until hours later. Aemond finally cracks and tells him that Rhaenyra and Daemon sent search parties to look for him. After being gone for 8 days , Aemond happened to come across some valuable information that could help the Velaryons against the triarchy before he too, was knocked out.

Aemond's story doesn't add up, but Luke chooses not to say anything. Aemond tries to get a reaction out of the guards but fails, just as Luke had in his previous attempts. They sleep on opposite sides of their shared cell that night. When they wake up, an odd looking man is watching them. His face is deformed and covered by a mask.

Aemond tries to provoke this man as he did with the guards. Only this time, he does get a reaction. The man speaks an odd language that sounds like gibberish. The guards suddenly move and drag Aemond out of his cell. Lucerys asks where they were taking him but gets no response.

After a few hours, they bring Aemond back to their cell. Lucerys gasps as he takes in his appearance. Aemond looks like he's been beaten half to death. The guards toss him into the cell and stand by until further command.

Lucerys tries to help Aemond lay in a more comfortable position. They don't have much in their cell. Luk rips a bit of cloth from his shirt and dips it in some water that the guards gave them. Luke tries to tend to Aemond's wounds but can't do much other than wipe the blood from his body. Aemond doesn't push him away.

The following day, they wake up to the same man staring at them. This time, he looks at Lucerys for a while longer. Aemond sees this and taunts the man again. The guards are sent in to drag him out again. Lucerys begs them not to take him again. This happens day after day . If They keep torturing Aemond , he won't last for much longer.

This time, when they bring Aemond back, the toss in some bandages and more water. Lucerys tells Aemond to stop taunting the monsters. Aemond simply hums. Lucerys uses the cloth and bandages to cover the worst of the inflicted wounds. Luke asks him what they do to him. Aemond doesn't reply.

Over the next few days, they are not visited by the odd man. Aemond and Luke talk, there's nothing else to do. They talk about their dragons, about food, about their family. They reminisce and talk about how things were before Driftmark. They seem to be opening up to each other. Lucerys hopes someone finds them before it's too late. Lucerys apologises again and tells Aemond he doesn't have to forgive him. That night, they sleep side by side.

When they wake up , the man seems angry, and is covered in blood. Aemond insults him again. But this time , the man won't stop looking at Luke. Aemond steps in front of him to shield him from the man's view. He keeps trying to get a rise out of him, but it doesn't seem to work.

This time , when the guards enter , they take Luke. Aemond tries to stop them, but he's too weak from his previous injuries. He screams and threatens the guards as they take Luke away. That last thing Lucerys sees is Aemond reaching out for him.

He's taken to a small room and chained up. It looks dark, and Luke can't see very well. The odd man enters and takes a seat in front of him. Luke realises that this is the room where they'd been hurting Aemond.

Lucerys asks the man what he wants and hears the man speak for the first time. He tells Luke that Aemond knows something of importance but that he won't tell them what they wish to hear. Lucerys asks if that's why they keep torturing him. The man looks at Luke at tells him that violence against him seems to do nothing.

The man gets up and approaches Lucerys. He whispers in his ear that Aemond seems to have a soft spot for him. Luke denies this wholeheartedly. The man smiles and takes out a whip. Luke realises what the man is about to do. He tells Luke that perhaps hurting him would get Aemond to talk.

~~~~

Back in the cells, Aemond is having a mental breakdown. He'd been trying to protect Luke from their kidnappers. Insulting them and drawing their attention to him instead of his nephew. He wishes he could take back what he said to Luke all that time ago. He doesn't want them to hurt Luke like they hurt him.

When they bring Lucerys back to him , he almost cries. His little nephew is unconscious. Bruises on his neck and face. Whip lashes on his back, burn marks on his arms and legs. As the guards go to put Lucerys inside, Aemond sees red. He reaches out and manages to pull one of them in. His mind is not his own. When he comes back to himself, he's clutching onto Luke and he sees the guard dead on the floor.

The other guard managed to lock the door before Aemond tried to reach him. Aemond doesn't let go of lucerys , but lays him down on his front when he sees discomfort in his face. Luke wakes up in pain. Aemond tries to comfort him. He promises to get them out somehow. That night, they cling to each other, afraid that the other will be gone when they wake.

The following day , the bad man( that's what luke calls him) watches them again. He asks Aemond if he's ready to talk. Aemond doesn't respond. The guards go to take Lucerys again. Aemond won't let him go. He won't let them take him from him again. Right as the guard manages to rip them apart, the hear a thunderous roar.

The bad man runs out to see what is going on. This gives Aemond the opportunity to attack the guard. They manage to knock him out. Aemond takes Lukes hand, and they slowly make their way out of the dungeons. When they reach the top, they open the door and see that their by the ruins of a castle in the middle of nowhere.

They walk and stumble down the hillside, and in the distance, they see Dragons. They see the velaryon fleet by the water . They see their family in armour trying to rescue them. Lucerys cries out in joy and hugs Aemond. They're going to be alright. After a touching reunion between lucemond and the family(greens/black who cares), they are taken back to kingslanding to be tended to by the maesters.

During this whole ordeal , the greens and blacks had put aside their differences to find their second sons. They had been missing for almost a whole month. Rhaenyra visited her sons chamber every day to make sure that he was recovering well and Alicent did the same. More often than not , they found the boys cuddled up together, either in Lucerys' or Aemond's room.

Over time their wounds heal and people move on. Everyone is happy that the princes are back. The triarchy has been dealt with and peace seems to reign over the seven kingdoms.

Aemond and Lucerys become inseparable. To the point where Rhaenyra and Alicent begin to worry. It is not healthy for two people to be around each other for so long. Aemond refuses to leave Lucerys' side, and Lucerys doesn't seem to mind.

After a few weeks go by, mysterious suitors appear to try and court both Lucerys and Aemond. A tactical ode made by Aegon to try and separate the two princes from each other. It doesn't seem to work.

After a few months and many , many rejected suitors, Ser Vaemond shows up. Questioning Lukes claim to Driftmark. Saying that the poor boy could not be mentally fit to take on such a role, especially after his time in captivity. Vaemond offers to wed the poor fool and to guide him as the next Lord of Driftmark.

After being rejected , he badmouths the entire targaryen family, Lucerys in particular. Before he can get another word out, his head is rolling off his shoulders. Behind him stand Aemond Targaryen with a smile and a bloody sword. He looks at viserys and demands he let him wed lucerys.

Before the king can answer , Lucerys let's him know that if he objects , they will find a way to marry each other in the ways of old valyria. Everyone knows that they're a lost cause, so they agree, and a beautiful wedding is held for them.

Over the years Aemond and Lucerys heal mentally and have a healthy loving relationship as the Lords of the tides. The greens and the blacks are united as one House. And when Rhaenyra ascends the throne, no one opposes her.

They live the rest of their days in peace and live happy lives until the very end.

THE END

P.s: Not sure if anyone noticed but, the odd creepy man that captured Aemond and Luke was the Crabfeeder . Aemond just so happened to come across some secret passage that would give the Velaryons a tactical advantage against the triarchy.

This wasn't what I had in mind while writing, I had one idea, and then my brain just went into auto control and wrote this nonsense. Hope you like it though 🤗💜💙

#lucemond #lucerys x aemond #aemond x lucerys #hotd imagine #ao3 fanfic #fic prompt

[carewyncromwell]

“We blow in like a hurricane -- We kill all the good, And we hurt one another -- hurt one another... Don’t take this life for granted -- We need second chances, as hard as it is... (Come on, people, now!) Why can’t we all just get along? Do we wanna be here ten years later, Singing the same sad song? It don’t have to take our last breath To admit that we're wrong... Why can't we all just get along?”

~“Why Can’t We All Just Get Along?” by Jacob Whitesides

x~x~x~x

Hey guys! I drew this today while being considered for Jury Duty...honestly, I’m really happy with how it turned out, especially since it’s been such a long while since I’ve drawn Charlie and Ben in their canon!

But yeah -- this is based off a scene in Year 6: Chapter 13 of the game where, after Charlie confronts MC about the Wizard in White being after them, Ben hexes Charlie and MC has to intervene. In Carewyn’s canon, however, things get a bit more heated. 

The main spark behind the argument wasn’t just Carewyn keeping the Wizard in White’s pursuit from her friends, but also her pulling away from them and sneaking out of school for reasons unknown. For Charlie, who was so badly affected by Rakepick betraying his trust that he now has trouble trusting any authority figures, the fact that this person who he saw as a surrogate twin sister hiding so much from him hurt him deeply, and in the heat of anger, he said something he ended up deeply regretting later --

 “More of this, then? More lies? Even after we know about that assassin now -- even though we know you’ve been meeting Jacob in secret and stopping into the Hog’s Head to meet Mundungus Fletcher and sneaking out of school to skulk around Knockturn Alley, you’re still going to act like everything’s fine? Treat us like we’re stupid -- not trust us with the truth, while expecting that we’ll just blindly place our faith in you, no questions asked? You and Rakepick are two of a kind!”

It was this that prompted Ben to swoop in seemingly out of nowhere and hex Charlie with Langlock. Unable to verbalize any spells in retaliation or even snap at Ben to mind his own damn business this is a fight between siblings, bugger off!!, Charlie made a furious move toward his dormmate, landing a punch right in Ben’s face. Soon the two Gryffindor boys were in a full-on tussle, and Mama Bear Carewyn had to jump between them and push them apart just to get them to stop. Once she’d used the proper countercurse on Charlie, the two landed a couple more verbal smacks on each other.

“What the hell is wrong with you!? I was talking to Carey -- ”

“Attacking her, more like.”

“Me being angry with Carey does not mean I was attacking her! You, on the other hand -- ”

“I did what I had to, to protect Carewyn. Something you should maybe think about doing, rather than saying stupid things -- ”

Carewyn finally had to shut down the fight by urging Ben to leave. Ben finally (rather resentfully) stepped away, but he didn’t leave the Courtyard, staying off to the side and keeping a beady eye on Charlie as Carewyn turned back to her surrogate “twin.”

“Charlie...I’m not asking you to trust me...I know how hard that is, and after what happened with Rakepick...I couldn’t ask that of you, I wouldn’t. But just...please, don’t worry. The Aurors are handling things...there’s nothing you have to worry about -- ”

“So you’re still not going to tell me the truth?”

“...Charlie...” 

Too steamed to come up with a proper response, Charlie strode past Carewyn and left. Ben glared at Charlie as he went. He waited for Carewyn to walk back toward the entrance hall so he could walk beside her, but instead, the Slytherin Prefect turned her back on Ben and left in the opposite direction, out toward the grounds. 

She needed to clear her head...and, more importantly, compose herself, before she let anyone see her again. 

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my art #art #charlie weasley #ben copper #carewyn cromwell #you'll notice the very slightest bags under carewyn's eyes #poor thing really has been worrying herself sick trying to keep her friends away from R even as she has to confront them more :'( #it's a stress ben has absolutely noticed even if he has trouble verbalizing it #hence that surge of overprotectiveness #and yeah what charlie said hurt! charlie was angry and pretty justifiably so since he was so hurt by carewyn not trusting him #I mean come on carey after everything you and your friends have been through?? it's tragic you DON'T trust them #for the record I also listened to the fray's how to save a life multiple times while drawing this

[b1gerror]

melissa young was born in the summer of 1943 in elmhurst, illinois.  melissa’s own mother died during childbirth,  and she was subsequently raised by her paternal grandparents whilst her father continued in his post as a naval recruit.   her upbringing as relatively normal for the time,   attended school,  helped her grandmother with housework and tailoring for family and friends.    melissa never felt as though she was an only child,   with children her age living so close by,   cousins that would appear every weekend with nothing but a ball and string but none of them ever shied away.    naturally outgoing,   melissa won prom queen her senior year of high school where her boyfriend of two years was crowned alongside her:   richard buckley.    neither of them knew what they wanted to do after graduation,    working dead-end jobs in diners and truckstops across america to fund their travels.      they settled into the ‘hippie’ lifestyle quickly,     following the trends over states,   with merry pranksters and the summer of love in 1967.        

02:48am,    march 10th 1968,     chicago illinois.       robin buckley was born,  named after a robin spotted on the windowsill of melissa’s hospital room,  which she viewed as a sign,   an answer to the question that they had been pondering the last 7 months.     melissa and richard already knew that they didn’t want to have any more kids,    robin had already been unplanned and unwanted-     but they loved her.      for the first year of robin’s life,   they stayed with melissa’s family,     all savings they ever had having been blown over the years of travel and partying.      in the fall of 1969,    richard’s family put down a payment on a house in hawkins,   indiana      (which can be found not far from the byers household),     in hopes that a small town with a little hippie scene would help to settle down the two reluctant parents that were all too happy with letting grandparents look after her.      it worked for awhile,     they got clean,   got jobs,   tried to get involved in town activities but couldn’t help but feel like outsiders,     like people were laughing at the efforts to fit in,   to lead the cookie cutter lifestyle that had been expected of them upon graduation.    

it didn’t remain easy,    their connections to their community were still strong,   when thanksgiving and christmas rolled around,   so did the rv’s parked along the street,    anti-thanksgiving and hippie christmas became a staple of robin’s childhood,    the already cramped house ready to split with bodies pouring in for days at a time,    cooing at how much she had grown year after year,    bags full of hand-me-down clothes from their own children,    books that were water stained and missing pages but robin would make it work,    they didn’t really mind;     a reminder that parents didn’t want to commodify her childhood with all the newest clothes—   shirts that were two sizes two big,   pants with holes.   robin learned to sew and stitch from a young age,     to make it work. 

at ten,   melissa returned to work in the laundromat,    helping her grandmother during her upbringing suddenly coming in useful for parents too busy to hem trousers,   to fix rips.     it turned robin into a latchkey kid from the fifth grade,     all too aware of the final notice bills shoved into the mailbox that would go unopened until the lights went out,     lifestyle taking priority over the function of the household.      it all came crumbling not even a year later when melissa was hospitalised for what wouldn’t have been understood yet as a drug induced psychosis,   leaving robin with just her father for two months.     she didn’t mind it—   in fact,   they thought it was easier to talk to richard compared to melissa,   it didn’t feel forced,   and he didn’t force her into conversation either.       it wasn’t really talked about when melissa returned either,    as if life just went back to normal,    robin hiding under sheets when the too familiar red and blue lights shone through the curtains,      with her constant fear of walking into the living room and not knowing where their parents were,     or if they would come home.          as robin got older,    they just didn’t leave.     in a list robin made comparing her home life to a friends,   one of the points was ‘robin’s house smells like dogs even though we don’t have any’,      drugs were a staple in the buckley home,   and it wasn’t rare for robin to return from school,    expecting the house to be empty,    to find either parent called out of work,   or left early,     dancing around the living room,    reminiscing about the good old days.      but it was normal,    it was robin’s normal.      melissa’s greater presence in that sense as robin got older plays a lot into their antisocial tendencies,   having become used to hiding away in their room,    making sure that dinner was on the table,     being a parent to her own parents.       

melissa and robin’s relationship was strained,    as if they could never quite see eye-to-eye.   robin believes it’s because there has never been room for both of them,    for emotions in general to be spoken about if they weren’t something positive,   or feel good.       all of robin’s concerns or worries were just ushered away,   crystals pressed against flesh with what was supposed to be calming mantras filling the air.     melissa didn’t make any effort to understand robin,    but robin never made that effort either,     saw it as a waste of time,    time that she didn’t have.       in chapter 3 of rebel robin,    robin attempts to have a conversation with melissa about life,    about how she,    someone who appeared to be so full of life,   a total ‘flower child’ ended up in hawkins,   and melissa’s reply?    was to tell the story of robin’s conception.      the message was received in robin’s eyes,     not wanted,    that the life they,    and robin hated,     was her fault.    

we get to see another snippet into their relationship through season four of stranger things,    with robin’s comment of ‘believe me,  my mother reminds me daily’   in regards to her speech,   and how things come off.    i do believe that they butt heads a lot within the household,    richard taking a back seat to most of their arguments,    much more interested in the ceiling and returning to the living room.       their relationship had never been good,    acted like acquaintances as opposed to mother and daughter,    but it did turn more antagonistic after robin’s attempt to run away at the end of her sophomore year.     robin worries that melissa doesn’t like her,     that sure,    maybe she’s loved like a daughter,     but it’s expected.     at her core,    she is not liked,    and does not feel like a welcome member of the family.       

#this is just me talking about melissa basically lmao #im going to add to this overtime but :p #drug mention / #lmk if anything else needs tagged #i'll format under the cut later too i wanna do a reply

[leosxrealm]

-ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ-

pairing(s): Oliver Aiku x male! reader

warning(s): mostly fluff, Oliver realizing he's gay (for you), friends to eventual lovers, mentions of alcohol

a/n: this man is so fine. i wish he existed irl. this was inspired by a random idea that popped in my head in the middle of the night

wc: 1.7k

!not proofread!

Part-02 of Drunk Confessions

the first time you met Oliver Aiku was in middle school.

he was the cute boy on the soccer team that everyone had a crush on. he was like your typical popular boy, with a charming smile, and a cool personality, no wonder girls, and even some boys, crushed on him.

you knew he lived somewhere around your neighborhood. you had seen him plenty of times on your way to school. you would give him a polite smile if you ever saw him. which soon lead to the two of you walking to school together. it took some time, but you two became quite close.

the two of you have always been there for each other. like, the time he comforted you when you were beating yourself up for not doing better on the exam, or when, no matter how busy he was, he would always remind you to eat something and keep yourself hydrated, because he knew you had a tendency to forget to take care of yourself. you were there for him when his own coach had crushed his dreams of becoming a striker, instead forcing him to play as a defender. you supported his decision to become the best defender wholeheartedly.

even after he joined Japan's U-20 team, the two of you still kept in contact. your friendship seemed to grow more and more every day. you even threw a little celebration for him when he was named the captain, just the two of you.

that was when Aiku realized he wasn't as straight as he thought himself to be. no wonder he always hopped from one woman to one another; no wonder he got bored after a week of dating them; no wonder why he wasn't attracted to the "hottest" girl in high school. because he never liked them to begin with. he only liked you.

he sometimes wonders how long he had liked you before he realized it himself? he thinks it started in middle school, around the time you two had became friends. it all makes a little bit more sense to him now; about why his mornings would become ten times better when he would walk with you on the way to school, or why he would play better than he ever has whenever you came to watch his matches (he just wanted to impress you) or why he would get a little flustered when you would compliment him.

although he realizes it now, he couldn't bring himself to be honest with you. he can't bring himself to tell you how much he loves you, how much he wants to just hold you in his arms, kiss you and just simply be with you. he can't bring himself to do that because he loves and cherishes your friendship just as much. he would rather be beside you, stuck with the title of best friend for the rest of his life, than not be in your life at all. and on top of that, he doesn't even know if you like boys.

and although he wonders how great it would be, to be beside you, to have you as his boyfriend, to call you his; the thought of his silly crush destroying your years worth of friendship shatters his heart into a million pieces.

---

with a sigh, he gets up from his bed. he couldn't take it anymore. his head was filled with the thought of you. he needed a distraction. and he needed it now. minutes later, he founds himself at a bar. entering with a fake id, he orders the strongest drink they had. drowning himself in alcohol was probably not the best idea, especially when he found himself calling you.

you knew Aiku was drunk out of his mind when you picked up the call. "Aiku?" you asked in a worried tone. it was very unlike your best friend to call you in the dead of the night, drunk. you could hear his voice on the other side, along with music blasting in the background, but couldn't understand what he was saying.

"where are you Aiku?" you asked getting up from your bed. even if you were tired as hell, you couldn't just leave him alone. it seemed like he was in a pub or someplace like that. "at- at the b-bar" he slurred before getting interrupted by his hiccup, "near my h-hou-" you looked at your phone to see the call had ended, but at least you know where he was.

---

you knew exactly which bar he was talking about, the both of you would go there sometimes to chill after a stressful week. you reached the bar as fast as you could. you found him sitting on the sidewalk just outside the bar. he looked....different, to say the least. his hair was disheveled, and he was wearing his sweatpants with that white t-shirt that you know he only wears to sleep. did he come here because he couldn't sleep? well, it looked like it worked because he looked so close to dozing off.

you slowly approached him, so as to not startle him. "Aiku?" you softly called out his name. he snapped his neck in your general direction, his eyes trying to focus. you chuckled quietly, drunk Aiku was a lot different than your Aiku. "(name)?" he questioned, trying to stand up. you helped him up, and even let him lean onto your side because right now, he wouldn't be able to stand up straight to save his life. Aiku caught a whiff of your cologne, and that was all he needed to confirm that you were in fact his (name).

"(name)!" he cheered, a giddy smile appearing on his face. "yeah?" you questioned. he threw his arms around you, trapping you in a tight hug, "i missed you." you slowly wrapped your arms around him before responding, "you saw me a few hours ago."

"i missed you," he said again, "a lot." you decide to humor him, so you responded with an "i missed you too." his smile widened at that before he let out a laugh. you chuckled too before turning around and crouching a bit. you looked back at him, gesturing with your head, "come on, i'll take you home." he eagerly hopped on your back wrapping his legs around your waist and his arms around your neck. you hooked your hands under his thighs to keep a hold of him, before starting your walk towards his home.

---

entering his house with the spare key you had, you removed your shoes, before walking towards his bedroom. you lowered him on his bed, trying not to wake him up. it seems like he had dozed off on your back. after removing his shoes, you lifted the duvet to tuck him in, when he blinked open his eyes.

"(name)?" he questioned for the second time tonight. "yes?" you answered for the second time tonight. he only gave you a lazy smile before tugging at your hand, "stay."

"i'm right here Aiku. don't worry," even in his drunken state he knew what you meant. you were gonna spend the night on the couch of his living room, just like you had done countless times before. "no no no" he shook his head, "stay with me. right here." you blinked at him, "ya sure?" instead of giving you a verbal answer he just shifted to the other side of his bed, making room for you. 

you got in beside him and watched as he turned to face you. the both of you just laid there for a while, looking at each other, when he smiled all of a sudden, "you're really pretty, ya know? ...or would you prefer being called handsome?" he inquired. you laughed quietly, "i'd prefer whatever you think i am."

"me?" he asked, then closed his eyes as if he was in deep thought. "hmm? i think you are really pretty like really really pretty and handsome and cute and hot and kind and amazing and just...wow," he blurted out, tripping over some of his words. when you didn't answer, he opened his eyes to look at you, and god, he thinks he fell in love all over again. you looked so alluring, with the moonlight highlighting your features, contouring your face in all the right places, and your eyes, oh god your eyes, looking at him. and he couldn't stop himself from telling you just how you made him feel. "i think i'm in love, (name)," he whispered, "with you."

you gulped, what the absolute hell? you were left speechless. first, your best friend since middle school was complimenting you like he was in love with you and then he goes ahead and confirms that he actually does love you. "do you really?" you questioned the heterochromatic boy in front of you. you needed confirmation because if he really did love you like he says he does, it would change everything between you. you can't deny that you felt a slight attraction to your best friend, but just like him, you were afraid to ruin your friendship.

"mhm i do," he said with closed eyes, reaching for your hand in the dark. he weaved your fingers with his. you laid there, snuggled under his duvet, with your fingers laced with the boy in front of you; the same boy you've come to cherish over the years, the same boy you called your best friend, the same boy who just confessed his feelings for you. "if-" you took a deep breath before continuing, "if you really feel this way, then tell me when you're sober."

you watched as a small, sleepy smile stretched on his face; his eyes still close. bringing your hand to his face, he softly kissed your knuckles, before replying with a small, "okay."

you watched as Aiku fell asleep right after that, leaving you with your racing thoughts. if he remembers what happened tonight, he would confess to you. because you knew, that no matter what people thought of his playboy persona, he would never lie about something like that. 

'love' wasn't a word Oliver Aiku throws around just like that. if he does confess to you tomorrow, you would tell him that you felt the same. and if didn't, you would be the one confessing, because now you knew that Aiku wanted to be yours just as much as you wanted to be his. with a content smile, you too fell asleep, just like the boy you loved.

#i want him so bad its not even funny anymore #tbh i want a lot of bllk boys #oliver aiku x male reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x male reader #blue lock fluff #oliver aiku x reader #aiku x reader #oliver x reader #aiku x male reader #leo's works #leosxrealm

[celerypaul44]

Rent A Laptop Sustain Working Even Though Your Computer Can't

It's now ten years later. Lifestyle has changed drastically. I've since divorced and remarried. My oldest daughter heading away to high school this month, and my middle daughter is a sophomore in high center. My son is turning ten on September 28th. He's grown up in a global that is entirely different personal computer was ahead of 9/11. Security scans in the airport, weight problems on terror, suicide bombers, and the Taliban are extremely common things in his world. Fourth and finally, for now, you really should invest for that other useful things that you'll want. These are rather easy by the way: toilet paper, tooth brush, other sanitary items, spare clothes, sleeping bag (have hope. you will use it eventually), small toolkit, and then for any assortment of other small necessities create life more gratifying. As far as food goes, just take the essentials, A big box of Ramen noodles, jugs of water, jerky, and Ho Ho's. We were about twelve to fourteen hours out of the Houston. There have been very few cars while driving. We attempted to call our office, most of the folks had gone home of waking time. We found out that we a contingent of buyers in Nyc that day and right now there was not sure from associated with them. In fact, pretty much all cell phone traffic interior and exterior the city was decrease. My wife had finally reached my mother-in-law who was attempting to leave of metropolis and to her home in Staten Island. My brother-in-law and sister-in-law who lived inside city has not been heard from either. He was somewhere down a financial district, but a person had succeeded to contact him.

The next morning Joe sat at his laptop searching marketplace records. After a couple of hours nicely number of calls, he tracked within the owner. She was in upstate Pennsylvania and was the 52 year old daughter belonging to the former operator. Joe had looked at the property a little closer and determined which it was probably worth around $150,000 but needed some immediate fix-up in order to be considered rental. All own to do in order to get your per use rental is visit the rental store and communicate that you are someone to write a short term rental. It is also in order to keep goal that believe require in initial deposit for lasting term apartment. It is a really good idea to match rental stores to see what deal is probably the most deal for you personally personally. You can review their terms on short term rentals help make sure in order to worth funds you end up being paying. It sometimes is tough to put an expense on out of your to keep business going when you are on appropriate. Compare https://chothuelaptop.info/cho-thue-laptop-ha-noi/ . Accommodations could financially impact you in that's of $200 for 1 week. Purchasing a laptop as well as of plan and peripherals you need would cost at least five times that amount, if no more. Driving a great deal as the house they were a little shocked. The paint was faded and chipped, the yard the disaster. Joe was disappointed, until he walked around and realized the home had a view of your ocean via back deck, and likely from the top of windows also. The Action to escaping there is finding a to store your belongings you will struggle to take along with you. Assuming you have exhausted all apartment picks. we will be going Dorm Bizarre. Get a cheap rental unit. that isn't sleazy, or see should parents maintain your guiness. Usually they have plans for your old kitchen. like a bar, or an entertainment room, or knocking works of art out different the area nicer and erase your memory their own minds before you come back begging for money. Anyway, this is the action.

#dịch vụ cho thuê laptop chuyên nghiệp

[eats-the-stars]

so i’ve decided to write a naruto fanfic. well, a lot of them. and in the process i’ve been making OCs and...i forgot how much i love making OCs and going wild w/my original plots. especially for a world like naruto where you can get away w/basically anything. like right now my fav OC is a little girl from shimogakure. i gave that kid a feisty little talking nin-goat for a bff. why? because i could. they both exist to get escorted back to Shimo but i still put a lot of work into them. they’re not interested in making anyone’s life easier and it’s beautiful. iruka, kotetsu, and izumo are all children of refugees from Uzushio (they were on the same genin team bc i love them. also i made an OC jounin-sensei for them and she’s just...perfect. trap master. summons ninja weasels. expected her genin to die in like week 1. likes to ditch them randomly. doesn’t show up to mandatory events and ppl are like ‘did they even give u a jounin-sensei or?’ sometimes she sends a weasel w/them instead. half of konoha thinks their jounin-sensei is an actual weasel. might throw in some confusion where they’re like “...Itachi? The Uchiha? isn’t he...too young? and not a kunoichi?” (because his name means weasel lol) iruka’s grandma left a nin-cat behind and she (the nin-cat) decides to teach iruka and his pals the art of fuuinjutsu. iruka/izumo/kotetsu get more instruction from random ninja animals than actual people. izumo can see ghosts and they pitch in. nobody in konoha knows who/what their jounin-sensei is. w/the exception of Anko and Hayate. Ibiki is done. he keeps walking in on things and walking right back out). i made a whole plot about ppl from Konoha treating refugees n their kids like shit. Kotetsu gets a cool uncle. Izumo gets shitty parents. there’s an Uzushio district in Konoha. iruka’s grandma was a dragon. he adopts naruto. the peeps from Uzushio are more chill about the jinchuuriki thing. naruto gets lots of stories about his kickass mom. iruka teaches him how to summon seagulls and immediately regrets it. plot things happen and the uchiha massacre doesn’t go down. instead madara ends up getting his ass kicked by iruka’s grandma (the dragon one). itachi doesn’t defect. sasuke is just like...a teenager with a helicopter bro. still got dead parents tho. danzo’s plans keep going to shit. no breaks for him. team 7 is semi-functional since sasuke isn’t as messed up and naruto has tons of support and doesn’t need to go so hard to prove himself. i mean he still goes hard and he wants to be hokage but sasuke’s not a massive dick to him and there’s a good chunk of the village rooting for him already. plus sakura isn’t crushing on sasuke. since he’s not ‘the last uchiha’ there’s no girl craze over him. i just realized that a ton of my OCs are like...ninja animals. also relatives of characters + jounin-sensei for characters that never got those fleshed out in canon. but yeah this fic/AU is slowly spiraling out of control but i’m just gonna let it at this point. 

#naruto #fanfiction #i swear i just keep thinking of 'oh wouldn't it be sweet if?' and then running w/it #since we know basically nothing in canon about iruka and kotetsu and izumo as genin #i basically just went wild #and now in my AU nobody knows exactly what happened w/them as genin #the biggest mystery after 'how did iruka get his scar?' is 'who was their jounin-sensei?' #the scar theories are all absolutely wild (but i do have the answer in my fic and it involves his early rivalry w/Anko) #and jounin-sensei theories include: a weasel / a nin-cat / the ghost of various shinobi / one of their future selves / a spy /nobody #ppl who guess spy think that it must've been a cover-up and for security reasons #T&I sealed all the info and erased everybody's memories or had them replaced w/ridiculous ones #Anko loves coming up w/increasingly improbable explanations for things #Hayate knows all the secrets and bluntly tells ppl the truth but nobody believes him #they think he keeps getting duped and he needs to be less gullible #like 'hayate you gotta think critically my dude. you can't just believe anything ppl say' #and he's just like 'no but iruka's grandma really is a dragon and her cat taught him fuuinjutsu and izumo can see ghosts–' #and they're just like 'hayate. it's sweet that you believe all of that's true but...you're being duped. this is another mind game.' #and i know in canon Ibiki and Hayate were on the same genin team...so he'd hear all the truths #but then be like 'mmm. no. that's ridiculous buddy. lol. like really? he couldn't come bc his grandma's cat was teaching him fuuinjutsu? #and then like ten years later he's just walking along minding his own business #and he sees Iruka and Naruto at Ichiraku and he can hear them talking to somebody but there's nobody else there #and there's a gruff voice saying 'your sensei here took a whole month to master that seal.' #and ibiki pulls back the flap #and sitting on the 3rd stool w/its own bowl of ramen is a literal cat #it makes eye contact w/him #he drops the flap. walks silently all the way back to T&I and promptly has a minor mental breakdown #he spends the next 3 days flashing through every crazy think hayate ever told him

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: A Child's Ink

Context: Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

WARNINGS: underage characters get tattoos/piercings

Word Count: 5680 Rating: T Ships: primarily Gen (Disaster Lineage + Shmi), offscreen JangoShmi, past Obitine, past Anidala ----

Ylliben Skywalker is known as a preternaturally calm and quiet child, serious and pensive.

He jokes. He roughhouses. He is as responsive to tickle attacks and shoulder rides and warm hugs as any other child.

But he is Jetii'Manda, not just Mando'ade, and that fact is impossible to forget.

This is a child that can read before he can speak, a child who can talk at length about 'grassroots antiestablishment propaganda and its influence on rural sociological development' before he can say the words without a lisp. This is a child who looks a man in the eye and tells him to check over his blaster one last time, or it will explode in his hand only minutes into the next engagement. This is a child who is not only willing, but capable of discussing the plausible ramifications of Duke Adonai Kryze's latest decrees with Jaster Mereel himself, while still in possession of all his baby teeth.

(His father is not worried by this. Upset, sometimes, pained and tired, but not worried.)

(His sister only laughs.)

It is, as a result, not as surprising as it could be, when a six-year-old wanders his way into Na-Tsuyon's parlor and asks her what the risks of getting a tattoo at his age are.

"I'm not having that conversation with you unless your parent is here," she says. A few of the other artists crane their heads in her direction, but she waves them off.

"I'm not trying to get it right this moment," Ben protests. "I'm just gathering information. He said that was fine."

"Still need your parent here here," she tells him.

He leaves for about ten minutes, and then comes back with a tall, gangling figure in tow.

"I hear this isn't the place for unaccompanied minors," Knight Skywalker jokes.

(She has heard him called a General. She does not know which war he fought. Nobody does.)

(They no longer ask.)

"Well, he is young," she says, brushing her tentacles back over a shoulder. "I don't let anyone under human-fourteen get tattooed without a parent on hand, and giving preliminary information to anyone under twelve is... generally not worth it, shall we say."

Skywalker smiles, oddly amused in the way he always is when someone points out his children need supervision. "Glad to hear it. Are you the Na-Tsuyon whose name is on the door?"

"I am," she says. "And you're Knight Skywalker."

He's pleased at that. She can feel it in the chemical receptors of her head tails, and wonders. "Yep. So, do we jump right into the discussion or do you need me to sign something, or..."

"No, it's enough that you're here," she assures him. "Now, the main reasons we discourage tattoos for younger sentients is the distortion factor. While the level of pain is much lower than it would have been several millennia ago, and we have the technology to remove ink from below the skin, a tattoo before your body stops growing will distort as you grow and your skin stretches. You would need to come in yearly for touch-ups, to remove the sections that have moved out of place, and fill in where the ink is no longer settled."

"That makes sense," Ylliben says. He looks up at his father, and then back to her. "You'd be able to tell me if any of my choices would be... bad for a Mandalorian, yes?"

"I would," she confirms. She glances up at Knight Skywalker. "I don't suppose you have any history of getting tattoos?"

"No," he says. "I'm from Tatooine, so..."

Different connotations to the very act of it, for him.

She ducks her head in a nod. "I understand. Generally it's easier if the parent has experience in the process, but it's far from mandatory. You're willing to work with the distortion maintenance?"

"Yes'm," Ylliben says, and his father shrugs and gestures, as if the word of a six-year-old is thus law.

"I'll walk you through the details of the process, including the care, relevant allergies, and so on. I don't suppose you have anything in mind already?" she asks.

"I do," he says. He doesn't tell her what it is, yet.

Anakin Skywalker stays there the entire time, and they make an appointment for later in the week.

----

"My buir isn't my only father," Ylliben says quietly, when it comes time to get details on what he's getting tattooed. "I had another father before him. A Jedi. He died, to protect me, and a lot of other people. So, um..."

He shoves a picture to her, the symbol of the Jedi, plain and simple. She looks at him.

"In red," he says, shifting on his feet, looking up at his father and then back down at the page. "For, um, to honor a parent."

"Your first father was a Jedi?" she asks, gentle as she can.

"Mm-hm," Ylliben says. "He died, um... he saved buir from slavery, too, a long time ago. Both my dads were Jedi, and I'm going to be one, too, and so is Sokanth. It's--it's about where I come from, and--"

"You don't have to justify it if you don't want to," Na-Tsuyon tells him, reaching out to place one hand on his. It's very warm and dry, in her opinion, but she finds that most humans are. Mandalorians are some 80% human, or near human.

Nautolan Mandalorians aren't unheard of, but she's a rare one.

Ben sucks in a breath, and says, "I want it up here, on my right shoulder, like a pauldron."

Na-Tsuyon nods, and looks up to Skywalker. "You'll have to sign some papers to approve it, Master Jedi. You approve of the design?"

Skywalker hesitates, and then goes to one knee in front of his son, and speaks so quietly she can only hear "--remind you of the generator complex?"

Whatever Ben's answer is, it's too quiet for her to catch. It satisfies Skywalker, though, and he stands. "Alright, let's see this paperwork."

----

When Ylliben comes in again, a year later to get his slightly-twisting tattoo fixed, it's with Miss Shmi in tow. Na-Tsuyon greets the middle Skywalker, for all that she's still not entirely sure how to address the girl. "I heard you've been attending the university at Sundari. Some kind of engineering?"

"Mechanical, yes," Shmi says, oddly soft. "I'm going to spend another year to specialize in vehicular engineering. I'd like to design starships, since I already know how to fix them."

"A worthy goal," Na-Tsuyon says, as she leads them over to one of the stations and starts sanitizing Ylliben's inked shoulder. She doesn't entirely see why a university education is needed for something that, in her opinion, an apprenticeship could more thoroughly cover. It certainly worked well enough Na-Tsuyon herself. "You're on vacation, then?"

"I am," Shmi confirms. "It's... unfortunate that Anakin couldn't be here a the same time, but we'll see each other in a few days."

Ylliben fidgets for a bit as his jedi symbol is fixed, and then finally asks, "Ori'vod can approve new tattoos, right?"

"Sokanth, no. Shmi..." Na-Tsuyon looks up at her. "I have no idea if you're listed as his legal guardian anywhere, and I'd need proof of that."

"Secondary to Anakin," Shmi confirms. "Ben would like this to be a surprise for Ani."

Ben pulls out a sheet, with a careful design on it, and presses it into Na-Tsuyon's lap when she lifts the tattoo gun and he's not at risk of ruining his own ink. It's simpler than the Jedi symbol, though it's two colors instead of one.

"It's the Open Circle Fleet," Ben says, shy in a way she's given to understand he usually isn't. She thinks his shyer moments may be connected to admitting to emotion, something that he's tying quite closely to his choice of Tattoos. "I thought, um, since I'm already--already honoring one buir, then, er..."

"The Open Circle Fleet was under the command of my brother's Jedi Master," Shmi explains, one hand on Ben's. "And I am given to understand that the symbol was designed as a subtle nod, of sorts, to the two of them as a team. Ben's looking to honor Anakin as he has his first father."

Ben looks down at his lap, and doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes.

"Bring me proof of guardianship," she tells them. "And I'll make sure you get it finished early enough that the bacta comes off before Knight Skywalker makes it home."

She holds true to her word, and talks her way into being there to see the reunion and reveal.

The emotions that cross Skywalker's face are complicated and unexpected in ways that she can't identify.

Then it's all too simple, because he starts crying on little Ylliben in the middle of the hangar.

----

It doesn't take a full year for Ylliben to come in for another set. It's only five months, maybe six. He has a sketch again, a geometric design of something she doesn't recognize, but still pings as familiar for some reason.

"It needs to be the right shade of blue," he tells her, serious as anything. Knight Skwyalker is right next to him, smiling all soft and indulgent, and maybe a little sad. "It's for Soka."

Oh. This is based on her facial markings, then. Or... what they will be, maybe. This doesn't look quite like what she's seen on the girl, but everyone knows little Ben is more touched by visions than his father and sister.

Na-Tsuyon thinks she knows where this is going. "The same blue as her montrals and lekku?"

Ben shakes his head. "No, 501st blue."

Or not.

"It's close, but a little darker and more saturated," Skywalker offers, and shrugs when she looks his way. "It's a long story, but the 501st was the legion I led before I arrived at Mandalore. It had a specific shade of blue assigned for armor paint, so legions could easily identify each other in the field."

That's... odd. She doesn't ask for more detail, though. It's not her business. "Where do you want this one?"

Ben shows her his left forearm and frames a section about two-thirds the length of it, along the outer side. Like a vambrace.

She has a feeling all these symbols will be on his armor, once he's old enough for it.

"Let's go through my inks and see which one will work best," she says, and does not comment on the rest.

----

When Ylliben comes in again, a few months before his next touch-up appointment, he doesn't have an image on hand. His father is trailing him again, and Na-Tsuyon has a guess.

"Time for Shmi?" she asks.

Ben ducks his head, flushing and not meeting Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "Yes'm."

"I thought as much," she says, and smiles at Skywalker. "General."

"Don't start."

"There have been oh so many rumors flying since the last Jedi run-in, you know."

"I don't care," he grouses, dropping into a seat. "Hells, a man takes emergency command for one battle, and it's all anyone can talk about."

"You ended a civil war, sir."

Ben giggles into his hands as Skywalker groans and slaps a hand over his eyes.

"No respect," the man complains. "Ben, be nice to me, I'm your dad."

"Nuh-uh," Ben says. "I know all the most embarrassing secrets."

"A cruel child," Skywalker accuses. "Ruthless."

"You're the one raising me," Ben says, swinging his legs back and forth. He's got plastoid training vambraces, now, and greaves that clink against the legs of the chair.

"Somehow, yes." Skywalker sighs, with great drama and all such things. He drags himself up to sitting. "Anyway. Moving on."

"Do you have something in mind already?" Na-Tsuyon asks.

"Binary suns," Ben says. "Just two overlapping circles, coin-sized, one bigger than the other, in sunset colors. In a gradient, with a sort of... flare to it? Halo? The... oh! The stellar corona. Buir knows the colors better."

"I want to see what you have to work with before I sketch out the design," Skywalker says. "But yeah, sort of pink and yellow and peachy."

"I can do almost any color," Na-Tsuyon promises. "Especially on fair human skin like Ylliben's. I won't have a problem getting those to show up the way I would on myself."

Na-Tsuyon is a color most would call 'aquamarine.' She's a light shade between blue and green, and much as she likes her skin, it's an absolute pain to make red and orange show up.

She can do it.

It's just annoying.

Ben asks for this one to be on the inside of the left forearm, high and opposite to the widest point of the mark for Sokanth.

----

"Can I see your fonts?"

Ben's alone, for the moment, but Na-Tsuyon knows that when he makes his decision, his father or Shmi will approve it without question. It's no harm to let him browse.

"Basic, Mando'a, or Huttese alphabet?" she asks. "Or something more esoteric?"

"Mando'a, please."

He's eight years old, now. He's still far younger than most of her clients, but she's long gotten used to him. Even when he's acting like a child, there's something to it that doesn't quite sit right. 'Born middle-aged,' a few of the other civilians on base had joked.

She wasn't sure if she thought it was just a joke, these days.

Na-Tsuyon passes her fonts book to the boy, and settles back in her chair for a long afternoon of running numbers. He, meanwhile, goes to sit in the lobby, legs still not long enough to reach the floor, paging through with unwavering, unsettling gravitas.

Half an hour, and then Ben returns.

He points to a font. "This one."

"What's it going to say?"

"Vode An," he tells her, as serious as can be. "In black, over my heart. It's important."

"It's a fairly common phrase," she notes idly. "Should be quick."

She doesn't expect much of a response, and certainly not the one she gets.

"It was different for them," Ben mutters, not looking at her. She sees him twisting the toes of one shoe into the floor. "It was... it was different. I can't talk about it. They were brothers, actually brothers, and they had--they had nothing, they were basically slaves, but--"

"You don't have to talk about it," Na-Tsuyon assures him, a hand on his. "You don't have to explain it to me. If it means something to you, that's all that matters. I just need you to be sure."

"And buir to sign the paperwork," Ben quips, smiling at her. She notices that several teeth are missing. It's cute. "You need that too."

"That too," she agrees.

When Skywalker shows up, he hears what it is that Ben would like, and makes a few suggestions for a border--a gear that sounded too much like the Republic's symbol for a Mando'a phrase, a building on stilts from a city she's never heard of on a planet that rings no bells, a human genetic strand for reasons she can't imagine--most of which are soundly ignored, until Skywalker sketched out a stylized ship of... some sort.

"Venator," Skywalker says, and taps the image. "Nobody will know it except us, but it'll mean something to you, for them."

Ben looks at it for a long moment, and then takes the scrap of flimsi with Mando'a on it and lays it overtop the center of the sketch.

He stares at it for a few long moments, and then nods sharply and pushes it to Na-Tsuyon. "This, please."

He's such a polite child.

It makes it easier to ignore the more confusing parts of his presence in her parlor.

----

"Hi!"

Sokanth Skywalker is in her shop.

That's new.

"Hello," Na-Tsuyon says. "I didn't know you were thinking of getting ink."

"I'm not," she says, hopping up on a stool across the counter. She holds out a hand, and Na-Tsuyon clasps it with bemusement. "But you guys do piercings too, right?"

"We do," she confirms. "You're... ten?"

"Yep!" Sokanth chirps, kicking her legs back and forth. "Is that old enough to get these without permission, or should I ask my dad to come by?"

"At least twelve for piercings without in-person, signed approval from a parent or guardian," Na-Tsuyon says. "Though if you're anything like your brother, I don't imagine that'll be a problem for you."

Sokanth grins at her, bright and a little wild. "Nose, bottom lip, eyebrow. I don't know the actual terms, but I know what I want. Which do you suggest getting first?"

"I'd say nostril," Na-Tsuyon tells her. Most species even vaguely humanoid kick off with the ears, but that's not exactly an option for a togruta. "Let me get a chart and you can figure out what type of piercing you want, and what kind of hoop or stud. I don't actually do the piercings myself, though. Comm the General if you want this done today, though."

"Thank you~!"

----

Nostril, labret, and a horizontal brow, the piercer notes down at the end of the latest Skywalker visit. Na-Tsuyon wonders if the brow piercing will look strange with Soka's markings, and then doesn't think on it further.

----

Ylliben, almost nine, is silent as he gets the touch-up.

His father isn't here. Neither is Shmi. It's pre-approved, signed permission and all, but it's still odd that neither of Ben's adults is here.

Sokanth is, but she's almost as quiet as Ben is.

Na-Tsuyon has heard the rumors, but she's not going to say anything. She's not. It's not her business.

"Ben," Soka speaks up, towards the end of the appointment. "Ask her the thing."

Ben shakes his head. "No way."

"She knows more about tattoos and how important they are than anyone!" Soka urges. "Ask her!"

"Do you want to wait for your father?" Na-Tsuyon suggests.

"No!" both immediately yelp.

She pauses, glad the needle hadn't been to skin, and levels a look at Ben. He flushes and settles down, mumbling an apology for jerking as he had. She goes back to fixing the stretch of the binary suns tattoo.

Soka shifts in her seat, watching them intently.

"Shmi's upset with buir," Ben suddenly says. He doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "I'm... I don't know if you heard what's going on."

"I do my best to avoid rumors," she says, keeping her voice as neutral as she can. "I did hear that the Mand'alor is about to have a grandchild, and something about an upcoming wedding. That much has been announced officially."

"Dad freaked out," Soka says, legs kicking back and forth. "He's happy for her, and he's fine with Jango being the other parent, but it kicked off a... philosophical crisis? Ben, what do you think?"

"Metaphysical, maybe," Ben mumbles. "Definitely existential."

"And he told Shmi some stuff and now she's hurt that he didn't tell her before and it's all a mess," Soka finishes. "So, uh, we don't... want either of them involved. Until. Um. Until that's settled."

Na-Tsuyon bites back any deeper questions she might have. "Alright. I won't pry. What did you want to know from me?"

"I had a plan for what I was going to get next," Ben says, staring at the fold of fabric over his sister's knees in lieu of something more pertinent. "A peace lily, on the inside of my wrist, for..."

"You don't have to tell me," she reminds him.

Ben bites his lip, and closes his eyes, and breathes in deep. Neither of the girls comment.

"She was important," Ben finally says. "In the big memories. But she doesn't... she's not... she isn't here. And Jango is. And he's marrying Shmi, and they're having a baby, so I should put a mark down for him first, right?"

"He's gonna be Mand'alor, too," Soka adds.

"He is," Na-Tsuyon says, as neutral as she can.

"He's joining the family," Ben says, his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him. "And there's going to be a baby, and that's. That's important."

"There's no order that you have to get things in," Na-Tsuyon assures him, squeezing his shoulder in a light gesture of support. "You've prioritized family so far, so I think it would make sense to get a mark for the coming cousin, at least. Unless... is the lily for your birth mother?"

Ben's face twists, uncomfortable for some reason she can't begin to guess at.

"No," Ben says.

"Skyguy's Jedi Master did almost marry her when they were younger," Soka explains. She glances at Na-Tsuyon and then away and at the wall. "They had a whole dramatic 'forbidden romance' thing going on, 'cause Jedi aren't supposed to get married. She died before Ben came into the picture, though."

It's a neat enough explanation.

It feels fake, but much of what the Skywalkers say about their pasts does.

She's sure it's true in some way. In some perspective. From... from a certain point of view, maybe.

"Alright, then," Na-Tsuyon dismisses. "All things aside, I would suggest adjusting your order of tattoo acquisition, but there's no particular requirement by Mandalorian standards. Your choices are rarely anything that intersects with set traditions, nor do you have a historic clan or house that comes with mandates of the sort. It seems that you're leaning towards prioritizing something for the new additions to your family, though; you've made it clear that these things are important to you, and I think you should pursue it if you're comfortable with it."

Ben nods, eyes somewhere far off.

"It'll make him flustered," Soka pushes, kicking lightly at her brother's ankle. "Jan-Jan's still worried you don't like him anymore."

"He is not," Ben huffs. "He's just scared of buir."

"Nah, your opinion matters too," Soka argues. "And you've been avoiding everyone 'cuz Skyguy freaked out and Shmi's upset, so Jango's worried you're mad at him about the baby happening. If you get a tattoo about him, he might actually cry."

"Is that why you want me to take that route?"

"Not the only one," Soka says, utterly guileless. She blinks at him, bright and innocent. "But I definitely do want to see the future Mand'alor crying because you made it obvious he's family now. It'll be funny."

Ben sighs, very clearly being dramatic about it. "Soka, I'm not going to pick a tattoo based on what you think will be funny."

"Imagine his face, though."

Na-Tsuyon doesn't comment at the expressions Ben makes as he very clearly does exactly that.

"Well, kriff," Ben sighs, and Soka giggles at the swear. "I'll have to get a tattoo for Jango, then."

----

Ben is already nine by the time he comes in with his father to actually get the tattoo for Jango's addition to the family. The choice he makes isn't particularly imaginative, but it'll suit well enough. A mythosaur skull, the symbol of the Haat Mando'ade, in a grey the same shade as beskar.

There actually are traditions to this one, specific adjustments to the framing and stylization meant to indicate how one fits into the faction, but also how one is associated with the Mand'alor. Ben is family, and close family, but not related by blood, nor adopted directly by the Mand'alor, rather a relative through the riduur be alor.

Na-Tsuyon explains each element and adjustment in detail, lets them process and agree, until she's taking a needle to Ben's skin once more.

"Will you be getting one for the coming child as well?" Na-Tsuyon asks while shading in a curve of bone.

"Not yet," Ben tells her, quiet and oddly contemplating. "I need to meet them, first. Figure out who they are."

"Sensible," she agrees. There's the usual oddity in his phrasing, and she ignores it as ever. "Did you tell Fett that you were getting this?"

"No, it's intended as a surprise," Ben says, watching her work.

She can almost feel the coming question.

It does not come from the human she expects.

"Do you know any Mando tattoo artists in Little Keldabe?" the General asks, voice low.

She finishes the line she's on, lifts the needle away from skin, and turns to him. "You're leaving for Coruscant?"

"Not yet," Skywalker says. He meets her eyes evenly. "But... soon. The time's coming. A year, maybe two. The Force will let us know when the time is right."

"Uh-huh," Na-Tsuyon acknowledges this. She does not comment further. The Force is not her wheelhouse. If they think it wants them back on Coruscant, with the Temple, then that's what they believe.

"These are Mando work," Skywalker continues, almost painfully earnest, "and I'd like to ensure whoever maintains them until Ben stops growing knows the right way to handle Mando art."

It's really not that different from a standard tattoo artist, but she's a little charmed anyway. Enchanted, almost. The man really does care.

"I can get you some names and addresses next time you stop by," she promises him. "It's been a few years since I checked in on their work, and I'll need to look them over before I make any recommendations."

He smiles at her, relieved in a manner she finds appallingly open for a Jedi like himself.

Ben mimics his father.

----

She gets to attend the wedding, months later.

The food is very, very good.

(Ben waits until the reception to show off his new tattoo, and the future Mand'alor does, in fact, cry.)

(So does Shmi.)

(So does their eight-week-old daughter, but that's probably unrelated to the tattoo.)

----

"Do you think getting a belly button ring would be good?"

Na-Tsuyon doesn't lift her head from her paperwork when Sokanth poses the question to the piercer. She's in for the horizontal brow bar, this time, and the labret is going to be somewhere a few months down the line.

"That's really up to you," the piercer says. His name is Hujnak, and he's a Devaronian that's been working here since Na-Tsuyon opened up the place. She loves him dearly, but he stole the last piece of cake and for that he will have no help with difficult customers for the next fortnight.

Or until she gets bored.

"I'm leaning towards 'no,' but I'm not sure," Soka muses. "I like the idea of it, but I feel like it might get snagged on things more easily. Plus, it's going to be a point of higher damage and pressure if I get a gut punch. It's one of the parts of my body I'm never really going to armor up, you know?"

They do know. There have been screaming matches about all the Jedi's refusal to wear enough armor on many occasions. The Jedi prioritize their agility to such a degree that armorweave is more reasonable than actual armor, in their opinion. This is an opinion that Fett and Mereel both take issue with.

At great volume.

(Shmi has vambraces, a gorget, and greaves, Na-Tsuyon knows. Some of it was exchanged at the wedding. Shmi doesn't wear much armor, certainly less than even the children. Shmi, crucially, isn't a warrior or otherwise planning to see battle.)

"Then I would say it may be best to hold off."

"Phooey," Soka says, though she doesn't seem particularly upset. "Ben's gonna be cooler than me forever, then."

"You think tattoos are cooler than piercings?" Hujnak challenges. "I'm offended."

"He can just get more," Soka protests. "Without it looking weird or getting dangerous, I mean."

Hujnak hums, noncommittal. "And you're worried about being cooler than the younger brother you have told me is, and I quote, the biggest nerd ever?"

"Well, yeah," Sokanth scoffs. "He's gonna start acting older than me as soon as he thinks he can get away with it. I gotta have something to hold over his head, you know?"

"Seeing as you are the older sibling..."

"Ehhhh..."

Nope.

Not paying attention.

----

"These are House Kryze colors."

Ylliben's breath hitches.

He is ten. He doesn't seem ready to provide answers. She turns to the father instead.

"Will that be a problem?" the general asks, calm and even.

"Yes," she says, and Ben slumps. She continues, because this is her job, and for a reason. "Unless you have a ready justification for when House Kryze asks, yes, it will be a problem. If it were a landscape or an animal, it wouldn't matter, but the pairing of the colors and the peace lily is an explicit statement of loyalty to Adonai and his heir, Satine. Unless you've suddenly decided to adjust your political stance to total pacifism instead of your Jedi approach, or have another reason to take on House Kryze colors, I'd warn against it at all, and would refuse to perform the work myself."

Ylliben's eyes are fixed somewhere behind her, and shining wetly.

"Okay," the general says. "Ben, do you have any other pallettes in mind?

"These were her colors," Ben whispers, and then he swallows thickly. "I just..."

"Simplify," Skywalker suggests. He fiddles with a necklace half-hidden in his Jedi layers; the japor one is visible, but a dull gold glint is all Na-Tsuyon can see of the other before it's tucked away again. "She'd understand, yeah? There's political ramifications. Dangerous ones, especially to you."

Interesting thing to say about a woman who, by Soka's earlier statements, died well before Ben was born.

They could at least try to stop dropping hints about their oddities. She doesn't want to know more.

"Lilac," Ben finally decides. "And... pale silver. With a filigree pattern in the shading?"

"I can do that," Na-Tsuyon promises.

She does not ask further.

----

"We're moving to Coruscant in a month."

Na-Tsuyon's head snaps up, head tails jolting almost painfully with the movement.

Sokanth is getting her labret, finally. She's gossiping as Hujnak prepares the tools, as usual, and Na-Tsuyon tries to ignore it when they Skywalkers do that, she does, but...

"You're leaving," she repeats, feeling oddly blank.

"Um... yeah?" Soka answers. She scratches at one stubby montral. "We've talked about it before. I thought you knew."

"I didn't realize it was so soon," Na-Tsuyon defends. She's more upset than she should be. "I thought you'd be waiting until the little princess was older."

Sokanth blinks at her, slow and... not judging, no. Evaluating, maybe.

"I'm almost thirteen," she says, slow and deliberate and heavy. "And Ben's eleven. There's no hard age limit for becoming a padawan, but I'm getting into the peak years for getting chosen, and I've been living here instead of in the Temple. I haven't had years to impress a potential Master like the others. That might not matter; sometimes a Master sees their future student and just knows, but... I need to have other Jedi to spar with, not just Skyguy and Ben. And Ben's visions are getting stronger, and Dad was never that good with his own in the first place, so he's worried about being able to help at all. We could stay longer, but..."

She trails off, and shrugs, and the weighted air disappears. "It's not the same thing as a verd'goten, at all, but it's about the same age, you know? I should be in the Temple for it."

"What would a verd'goten equivalent be?" Hujnak prompts, when Na-Tsuyon fails to find her words. "Being an adult and equal member and all such things?"

"Knighthood," Soka answers immediately. "Dad got knighted when he was twenty, but that's really young, usually. His master was knighted at twenty-five, which was a bit late, but apparently there was a whole dramatic thing going on there that Dad never got all the details about."

"Becoming a Padawan is a sign that your teachers see you as someone that is ready to take on the responsibilities of a Jedi, yes?" Hujnak asks. "That you may not be ready to go out on your own, but that you're old enough to understand your oaths and choose how to follow them, and to protect others?"

Sokanth considers this, and then nods. "Yeah, I guess it's similar to using the verd'goten to gauge if someone's ready to swear the Resol'nare, that way. Still not moving out, and just about entering an apprenticeship, but enough of an adult to make the choice of how to change the world."

"I think most cultures have something like that around the same age," Hujnak comments. "Some do it a bit later in the teens, but it's usually around your age that most... well, most cultures who age at the 'human standard' rate--"

Na-Tsuyon can't help the reflexive snort of derision. Neither can Soka. Hujnak, the closest to human in the room and yet still very much not, smiles like this is exactly what he intended.

"--most who age at that rate do have it somewhere in that eleven-to-seventeen range, I'd think."

Soka shrugs. "Yeah, well. Still gotta go to the Temple for it, you know?"

"Are you going to take the verd'goten at all?" Na-Tsuyon asks, suddenly a little desperate to keep the Skywalkers here, with Mandalore and all its people, just a fraction of a moment longer.

"I don't think so," Soka muses. "I've been thinking about it, but I should probably talk about it with Jango, yeah?"

"Yeah," Na-Tsuyon says, and feels like she's swallowing down around rocks.

----

As it turns out, the timing is very deliberate. Three weeks later, Jaster transfers the title of Mand'alor to his son.

(Though Na-Tsuyon does not know this, twenty-six is older than Jango was when he lost the title, once upon another life.)

There is a week of festivity. There is food, and drink, and dancing. Some people get married. Some people make announcements of impending births. Some people reveal songs they composed in preparation for this very day.

For a week, Mandalore celebrates a new king.

Then, the Jedi and his children leave.

(Ben gives Na-Tsuyon a hug before he goes.)

(She tries to understand why she feels like she's losing something when he does.)

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #Ahsoka Tano #Shmi Skywalker #JangoShmi #Jango Fett #Disaster Lineage #star wars #time travel #de aging #mandalore #mandalorian culture #phoenix posts #Anakin and the Jedi Babies #tattoos #original characters #outsider pov #this is part one of three I think #it's two in the diddly darn morning and I am going to bed

[huneekrispee]

Where is my lover?

Pairing: c!Dreamwastaken x gn!Reader

Summary: Living outside the Dream SMP, far from the war and chaos, Dream was able to find comfort in you. One day, he leaves, promising to come back to you. It's been months, now you're left wondering... where is my lover?

Warnings: cursing, use of dream's real name, spoilers for the Dream SMP Finale, tiny bit of fluff at the start, angst

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I've been watching Attack on Titan recently, and the song 'Call Your Name' has me in the feels :( Sorry for being away for so long :( School has been an ass to me, I hope you enjoy it!! -Hunee <3

Also! Please don't mind the pronouns in the song! This is a gender-neutral fic, I merely just wrote the song lyrics as they are :)

She lost her brother a month ago

His picture on the wall

And it reminds me

When she brings me coffee... her smile

I wish I could be with her until my last day

In the forest, a cottage lays peacefully in a secluded meadow near a running stream. The tall trees lay their shadows onto the grassy floor, leaving marks from the sun. Water solemnly runs along, moving to its next destination through the stream. Grass rustles and a soft sigh is heard.

Stretching his arms above his head, a man clad in green slowly sits up, emerald eyes darting around. He yawns. "(Y/N)!" He's now standing up, searching for his lover. Dream's hand reaches down to grab his mask left abandoned on the grass, quickly putting it on.

Preparing his sword, his hand on the hilt, Dream slowly steps toward the cottage. He rests a hand on the door, waiting for something, anything.

A scream is heard.

He now slams the door open, netherite blade on full display, ready to attack. Looking around, he notices no one but (Y/N) in the cozy home, with a kettle on the ground next to them. Lowering his guard, sighing with relief, he sheathes his sword once more, walking over to his distraught partner.

"Are you alright?" Removing his mask, he takes their hands in his. Dream looks at them. (Y/N) looks down, taking their hurt hand out of his. Sighing, Dream quickly leads them over to the sink, running the tap. "What happened?" The coldness of the water helped soothe the burn. "I just, accidentally burnt myself with the kettle. It's okay, I'll live, Clay."

The man remained silent. The only sound heard in the cottage was the running tap water. After treating the burn on their hand, Dream leads (Y/N) to the chair on the side of the room. "You. Sit. I'll finish doing whatever you were doing. You just sit there and take it easy, you just burnt your hand." Bending down to their height, Dream stands face to face with (Y/N). He narrows his eyes slightly. He was always like this. Whenever (Y/N) got hurt in any sort of way, Dream was always on it, almost suffocating them with his overwhelming protectiveness.

They sighed, avoiding his eyes. "I- I was just... I just wanted to make you a coffee this morning. I know you're going to be busy later, so I wanted to make sure that you were energized for your work." Fiddling with their bandaged hand, (Y/N) smiled gently. "I see how you're always so dedicated to the stuff you do, and I wanted to return the favor, even if it's just a cup of coffee."

Dream's eyes softened. It was true, he was dedicated to his work. Running an SMP was hard, especially with some people interfering with his plans recently. He had plans to take power over the server again. Finding and taking everything his people were attached to was difficult, but at least he had (Y/N) to come home to. It was all for them. It was worth the hard work and pain just to see (Y/N) smile at him, showing him their love.

"It's okay. Thank you for wanting to do that, but you don't have to." Running his hand up to their cheek, he smiled. "I do all of my work for you, to help make a safe place for you. Once I sort out the rebellious people, I promise, I'll come back to you, and we can live together in my SMP." (Y/N) gazed up at him, looking into his eyes. They smiled, beaming at the idea.

"Alright! I promise I'll wait for you! I'll always wait for you. I love you, Clay."

"I love you too. I promise I will come back to you. Always."

He would do anything to see that smile on their face all the time.

She said she gave all her love to me

We dreamt a new life

Some place to be at peace

But things changed... Suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

It had been two days. Two days since Dream had left. (Y/N) had since then tended to the flowers and read a few books Dream had gotten them from a faraway village.

'I wonder what he's doing now?' Looking up at the sky, (Y/N)'s mind began to wander. What was dream doing right now? Maybe he was still on his way back to his SMP? Or maybe he was trading with villagers for resources?

They smiled. Dream had been one of (Y/N)'s lifelong friends turned partner. They had met when (Y/N) used to live in a village as a child. (Y/N) was nine and Clay was ten. Dream had gotten into a rough fight with two skeletons and a zombie. He was stumbling around, trying to find help for his injuries.

That was when (Y/N) appeared. Hearing the boy's cries, they ran out of their family home, taking Dream into the house to be treated, screaming for their parents to help him.

They had grown up together as best friends after that. Meeting George and Sapnap, the group loved to go on little adventures together and play their favourite game: manhunt. Dream would always insist on running, with George and Sapnap chasing after him. Sometimes, (Y/N) would join them, but they quite enjoyed seeing the trio panic during the game. It was fun.

A couple years ago, Dream visited (Y/N), saying that he was starting up his own SMP, a place where he and his friends could have fun and just be themselves all the time. The two of them spend hours in (Y/N)'s room, talking about their big plans and ideas for the SMP. Dream wanted to build a cottage near a stream, and live there peacefully with (Y/N). They were shocked, Dream wanted to live with them? "Why?" They asked.

"Well, because of... I'll just show you."

That was the day Clay had kissed (Y/N) for the first time.

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

A month had passed. Nothing from Dream. Usually, he'd send a message through on their server communicator, asking how they were and informing them of his journey and new discoveries. But that didn't happen, not this time.

It was hard. Clay had been such a big part of their life that sometimes they found it hard not to worry about him. They knew he was strong, he could take down armies of people, but everyone had their limit.

Raising the iron hoe, (Y/N) swung down, making way for the new seeds of crops that would grow over the next few months. Wiping their forehead with their sleeve, they sighed.

All they wanted was for Dream to be safe, and for him to come back home once he finished his business in the SMP.

Oh Where is my lover

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, No way

Calling out your name

Heavy pants of breath echoed throughout the underground bunker. He was panicking. It wasn't supposed to go like this.

The plan was to kill Tubbo and make Tommy give him his disks.

It all went to shit when Punz showed up with backup, showing the people of his SMP that had turned against him fully.

"W-woah! Okay! Tommy, calm down!"

The blonde boy didn't listen, hands gripping the axe of peace and lifting it high above his head.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you Dream, right here, right now."

Dream silently gulped. For once, his plan failed. It backfired on him and blew up in his face. 'Sorry (Y/N). Guess I'm not coming back tonight.' He just wanted this to be over. He just wanted to be back in the cottage near the stream, sitting with his lover.

His green eyes darted around to everyone in the room. They looked disgusted, some disappointed, others angry. He knew this would never change. He would never get his SMP back. They hated him. Wanted him gone.

"Does Y/N know you're like this?"

His breath hitched. Eyes went wide.

Sapnap had stepped forward, sword out, pointing it threatening at Dream. "Do they know just how bad you are? How corrupt you've become?!" He was yelling at this point. Sapnap was upset as well. It was hard to believe that his best friend would do all of these bad things, it hurt to betray him, but he had to do what was right.

"S-stop. Stop talking about them."

For once, Dream was vulnerable. He hated it. He was always so soft when it came to them. When it came to (Y/N). Sapnap knew that. He had seen it when they were together, how happy dream was when he was with them, following them around like a lost puppy, longing for their love. It went both ways, (Y/N) was the same.

"Who the fuck is- Nevermind. Dream. Give me one good fucking reason why I shouldn't-"

"Tommy stop." Sapnap stepped in again. "This is important to not just me but for another person as well." Tommy stepped back, axe still prepared to lash out just in case. Tommy kept muttering to himself, something about a green bastard.

"Dream. Where is (Y/N)? You said they would join the SMP with us, but they're not here, nobody has seen them, probably besides you. You said that they changed their mind about the SMP, or was that a lie too?"

Dream gulped, words caught in his throat.

"Tell me, you bastard! Where is (Y/N) and do they know?!"

"No. They don't know. All I wanted to do was protect them from something I knew would happen. The wars, the chaos of the SMP. They didn't need to be a part of that. I didn't want them to get hurt."

It was almost like a plea. Dream's voice was quiet like he didn't want them to hear what he was saying. Sapnap stepped back, somewhat satisfied with his answer. He was also upset, he hadn't seen (Y/N) in years, not since before the SMP started.

Tommy finally stepped forward.

"Now. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, Dream."

"I can bring people back to life. I can bring Wilbur back."

I said I gave all my love to you

We dreamt a new house

Some place to be at peace

But things changed... Suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

Three months. It had been three long months without him. (Y/N) would spend every other night crying in their bed, missing him. They missed everything about him. No messages from him on their communicator. No death messages about him either.

They had never thought that three months could feel so long.

Surely he was busy doing stuff that would mean the world was safer for them. That's what he always said. He said that he worked for them and that he promised that they could settle down and make a new cottage near a different stream, closer to the SMP.

He said he needed to dig out the rebellious people and make his SMP a better place.

All (Y/N) could hope for was that he was safe and doing okay.

We don't know what is wrong tonight

Everybody's got no place to hide

No one's left and there's no one to go on

All I know is my life is gone

Dream was not feeling safe and right now he was feeling anything but okay.

Tommy had just broken his mask. Split down the middle, from the axe of peace.

He didn't want anyone to see his face, no one but (Y/N) and the people who had already seen it before he started wearing the mask.

His mask was his safe haven. A facade he could hide behind. With it gone, there was now no place for him to hide.

All he had done was tell Tommy that he could bring people back to life. When he mentioned Wilbur, Tommy seemed shocked, but then he seemed to come back to his senses after remembering what Wilbur was like before he died.

He went crazy. Insane. All because of Dream and his stupid motives. He only fueled Wilbur's change, encouraging him to blow Manburg up after Jschlatt took over. Thank God for Karl destroying the button the first time. The second attempt was successful and sealed Wilbur's fate as a psychotic, destroyed ex-president swayed by the masked man into committing destruction.

Tommy was angry at that. At the fact that Dream would even think about bringing back Wilbur.

Enraged, he brought the axe down onto Dream's cowering figure.

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

Sitting up, (Y/N) slowly looked around the room. It was the same as always; no Dream insight. They woke up every day with a feeling of hope that they would turn around and see Dream at the door, back from his trip.

The situation was too much. (Y/N)'s breaths quickened, eyes blurring up with tears, the salty water slowly dripping down the sides of their cheeks. They let out a dry laugh, bringing up their sweater paw hands to their face, wiping the tears.

They stared at the sleeve of the hoodie they had on. It was green.

It was his.

He always left a spare here, just in case.

It always came in handy when (Y/N) missed him.

They sighed, flopping back down onto the bed, curling into themselves and the hoodie. It smelt like him. He always smelt like a run through the forest, with a hint of saltwater and citrus.

It was comforting.

He was comforting.

The tears wouldn't stop. Every time (Y/N) wiped them away, fresh ones would keep coming. Where was he? Was he okay? It was all they could think about.

(Y/N) hugged themselves, hoping to recreate a hug like his. It didn't work. It never worked.

Nothing could ever compare to his hugs.

Still sobbing, (Y/N) cried themselves back to sleep, despite it being morning.

Not like they had any motivation to do anything without the assurance of him being okay anyways.

Oh Where is my lover

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, No way

Calling out your name

Beep.

(Y/N)'s communicator went off.

Dream was slain by Tommyinnit.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #huneewrites #dsmp x reader #dream team x reader #dream x reader #dream x reader fluff #dream x reader angst #dreamwastaken angst #dream imagine #dream fanfic #dream x gn!reader #c!dream x reader #c!dreamsmp x reader

[seijorhi]

Pretty Young Thing

A yandere Erasermic commission for an anon, I hope you like it bby!!

Aizawa Shouta x reader x Hizashi Yamada

TW non-con, breeding kink, pregnancy, surrogacy, pregnant sex, smut, age-gap, nsfw

“Don’t you think she’s a little young, ‘Zashi?”

“It’s up to you both how involved you are during the first stages and the overall pregnancy. Normally we suggest an initial meeting with the potential surrogate for all three of you to get a feel for one another and decide if you want to proceed with the arrangement, but should you wish, we can–”

“No,” he interrupts, sparing Hizashi a fleeting glance. “We want to meet her.”

Beneath the desk, his husband squeezes his hand. 

Hizashi quirks an eyebrow, pausing midway through fixing his hair in the mirror. “Whaddya mean, babe? She’s in her twenties ain’t she?”

He’s not wrong, but that’s not the issue. They picked you, they both picked you, but there’s this lingering unease that he can’t seem to shake. It’s not so much your age specifically, he knows that you’re only a few years younger than the majority of the other women whose profiles they’d seen – you’re old enough to understand what you’re getting yourself into and agree to it, at any rate – it’s just that he doesn’t quite understand why somebody your age would want to do this.

And there’s something different about you, it’s just a feeling of course – he hasn’t yet had a chance to confirm his suspicions, but he wants to meet you and decide for himself.

“We do have a number of potential surrogates with promising Quirks if you’re considering pursuing that option for your child,” the Doctor told them, smiling as they flipped through page after page of profiles.

Hisako, 35, Quirk: Sun-flare

Nozumi, 26, Quirk: Mimic

Koharu, 28, Quirk: Seismic Wave

Chiyoko, 33, Quirk: Golden Whip

Yuzuki, 32, Quirk: Silencer

There’s dozens of them – which is more than he expected. 

Aizawa knew coming in that this wasn’t normally the process, that this agency catered specifically to Heroes – was recommended by the Hero commission – but it still feels strange, just browsing through pages upon pages of potential candidates to carry their baby. 

Was he supposed to be feeling some kind of emotion looking at these profiles? The women were all healthy, each of them attractive, in their own ways (nothing but the very best, the Doctor had reassured them with a smile). This woman, whoever they picked, she’d be carrying their baby, yes, but that was the extent of it. She wasn’t going to be a part of their lives beyond that, so what did it matter if she was nice or liked to cook or play tennis?

There were stats, of course. Their education and IQ’s and little snippets of history, but they were all impressive, otherwise they wouldn’t have been included. Were they supposed to choose based on their Quirk? One that might compliment his or Zashi’s? Quirks were troublesome things to begin with, and–

“Wait-wait, Shou, hold up,” Hizashi’s voice cut through his musings, long fingers wrapping around his wrist midway through turning the page. “Go back one.”

He does as he’s told, flicking the page back.

Y/N, 23, Quirk: N/A.

A lone eyebrow lifts. Quirkless, huh? A blank slate.

But that’s not what caught Hizashi’s eye.

“She’s kinda cute, don’tcha think, baby?”

It feels weirdly like a first date, nervous jitters and all – though he’d like to believe he’s better at suppressing that now then back when he was a teenager. Aizawa hasn’t bothered to shave, but his hair’s tied back in a loose bun and he’s pulled out a suit for the occasion – he’s even wearing a tie for fuck’s sake. Beside him, Hizashi’s ditched his usual leather jacket and ripped jeans for, well, nicer jeans and a button up floral shirt.

And then there’s you. Standing in the doorway of the cafe glancing around like a little lost lamb, he recognises you instantly from the picture on your profile, but the moment your eyes meet his he’s struck with the realisation that the picture didn’t truly do you justice.

Because you do look young (at least compared to their thirty odd years) and it might just be the hesitant smile adorning your face as you start to make your way over, or the charming little summer dress falling to your mid-thigh, swishing hypnotically with every step, but Shouta feels something catch in his chest the more he stares. You really are… what was the word ‘Zashi had used? Cute?

Yeah. You were cute. 

The agency had offered to host this little meetup at their clinic, and while he hadn’t particularly cared one way or the other, Hizashi’d been insistent. He’d wanted this to feel ‘natural’. 

‘I don’t really wanna meet our potential baby mama for the first time in some boring, sterile office, d’you?”

He’d only bitten back a sigh at the time, shaking his head. It wouldn’t have been worth upsetting him by reminding him that the girl was technically a glorified incubator. He had every intention of being involved in this process, but this initial meeting was to establish two things. Firstly, that after meeting them, you still felt comfortable with carrying their baby, and secondly, he wanted to make absolutely certain that you weren’t trying to get anything out of this.

Oh, he knew you were getting paid, handsomely, he’s sure, but the thought that you, or any of the women the agency had fobbed their way might not all be in this for altruistic reasons had crossed his mind. 

You were just so young.

But he was more than happy to determine those two things in a ten minute meeting at the agency. 

Hizashi was not, and so here they are. 

Ten minutes in, and he finds himself glad of his husband’s insistence. Hands wrapped around your mug of coffee (you should enjoy it while you can) you chatter away with Hizashi, beaming and blushing, tripping over your own words in your nervousness. 

You’re about as dangerous as a kitten, and he allows himself to relax enough in his seat to enjoy watching the blonde charm you. 

“So why don’t ya tell us a little about yourself, songbird?”

“There’s really not all that much to tell,” you say with a sheepish laugh, but they listen as you talk anyway. It’s nothing the profile hadn’t already told them, nothing spectacular that would make you stand out in the crowd. 

And yet, an hour and a half later, you’re trying in vain to distract him and Hizashi both so that you can slip your card in with the bill to pay for lunch, and Shouta finds himself oddly amused.

There were other candidates – ones with impressive Quirks, smarter than you, more accomplished than you, older than you–

“Ya sure you don’t want a lift, sweetheart? It’s no trouble.”

You smile again, demure little thing, and shake your head. “Oh no, really it’s okay. It’s not far and… I like the walk. Thank you, though.”

– but none nearly so endearing, he thinks. 

And when they watch you disappear into the crowd, one final wave thrown over your shoulder, Hizashi’s fingers lace with his once more.

“So she’s our baby mama, huh?

He’s silent for a moment. “I suppose so.”

—

The agency recommended, at least in the initial stages before the implantation procedure took place, that any communication between the three of you should go through them. 

Hizashi had your number programmed into his phone before you’d even left the cafe, and he’s been texting you every day since – to the point where it wasn’t unusual for Shouta to come downstairs and find Mic chuckling to himself, fingers dancing across the keyboard on his phone as he replies to whatever message you’ve sent. 

Shouta, for his part, tends to message only to check in.

How are you feeling? Any side effects from the meds?

Your response comes a little slower than usual, and it’s almost an hour before finally he receives it.

Sorry they’re cracking down on us using our phones at work :( 

Everything’s good so far! The doc said i should be on track for our appointment next week!

… is it weird that I’m a little excited haha?

His brow furrows at that. You hadn’t mentioned a job – at least not to him, he’d have to ask Hizashi later whether you'd said anything to him. 

Why on earth were you still working? He’d seen the contracts, he knew exactly how much you were getting paid for this little venture, wasn’t that enough to support you?

He makes a brief mental note to make sure that whatever job you were working at, you stopped long before the baby was due. You might just be a surrogate, but he’d be damned if his baby was put in jeopardy because you were needlessly exerting yourself. 

Nevertheless, his expression softens somewhat as he reads the second part of your message. You were excited, hm? 

Well, that made three of you.

Both he and Hizashi’d been willing to come along to the clinic with you – he’d even submitted a formal leave request to take the day off from UA, but the Doctor had assured him that it wasn’t necessary.

“The procedure is quick and relatively painless. She’ll be home within a few hours, and so long as she remains off her feet and doesn’t undertake any strenuous activity, she will be perfectly fine.”

It hadn’t sat particularly well with Hizashi who’d spent the afternoon huffing and complaining about the clinic trying to kick them both out of the process. That much, he expected – he understood it to an extent; the agency catered specifically to Heroes, most of their clientele probably had busy schedules (which was true in their case as well). There wasn’t a need for them to be present at such a minor procedure, even if it did hopefully mark the beginnings of your pregnancy. 

What he hadn’t expected was the twinge of discontent he felt settle in his own stomach. The Doc might’ve preferred they stay out of this, but at the end of the day he really didn’t give a shit what she or the agency wanted.

So he messaged you.

Do you want us there with you?

He watches those three little dots bounce for almost a solid minute before finally your reply comes through.

No, it’s okay, you don’t have to come. The Doc said it wouldn’t take long and I don’t wanna be a burden for you guys

It’s not really an answer to his question, and he briefly wonders if Hizashi might be right about the agency interfering, but he’s not going to fight you on it. 

At least, that’s his plan until Principal Nezu pulls him aside at the end of a staff meeting and tells him that he’s found somebody to cover his classes tomorrow if he still wants the day off. 

“Ya gotta go, babe. One of us should be there for our ‘lil mama.”

He asks you what time your appointment is and there’s a surprisingly pleasant fluttering in his stomach when you walk through the clinic doors and catch sight of him sitting in the waiting room.

It’s a momentary surprise – you almost do a double take, but a smile lights your face and you ignore the receptionist in favour of racing towards him. 

“Shouta, I thought you weren’t coming!” Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing tightly.

He finds himself returning your hug – albeit somewhat stiffly – but he’s glad he made the decision to come. The Doctor wasn’t wrong, you’re only in with her for just under twenty minutes, and when you come out there’s a tremble in your legs, but you seem otherwise fine.

It goes without saying that he’s driving you home, though you try once again to beg him off.

Kitten, when are you gonna learn that so long as you’re carrying his and ‘Zashi’s child, they’re going to go out of their way to make things easier for you – whether you want them to or not.

Yet your quiet discomfort on the drive home doesn’t slip past his attention. Maybe it’s because he’s become accustomed to your nervous rambling, but there’s something odd about the way you’re sitting so quietly, fingers twisting in your lap as you stare out the window. He knows that if Hizashi was here, he’d be chatting your ear off, but he’s never been one to fill silence with unnecessary small talk.

Though he can’t exactly help the way his own mind drifts. Are you in pain? The Doc didn’t say anything about there being any pain, only that you should rest over the next few days, so it shouldn’t be that. Perhaps you’re just lost in your thoughts – it’s strange for them having a surrogate, he can only imagine what’s going through your own head now that it’s actually begun. He hopes that you aren’t having second thoughts, almost opens his mouth to ask before thinking better of it.

You’re entitled to your thoughts and feelings, whatever they may be, and if you wanted to talk to him about them, you would. 

It’s not until the scenery outside starts to change and the fancy sky-scrapers give way to dingy apartment blocks and dilapidated buildings, crammed in together too tightly that he realises that it’s not discomfort that’s written across your face, but embarrassment.

This was your neighbourhood?

Shouta recognises it, and really he should have picked up on it earlier when you’d given him the address – he’s spent more than a few nights patrolling the area. It’s a hotspot, not for the high-class, dangerous villains plastered across the news every night, but thieves and murderers. Petty thugs who prey on the weak, those addicted, with nowhere else to go… you live here?

Surely with the money you’re getting from the agency, and your job on top of that, you can afford a better neighbourhood.

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, watches as you all but shrink into your seat, and when you speak, your voice is little more than a whisper.

“You can just drop me off at the corner here.”

He pulls the car to a stop by the curb, and for a moment neither of you speak. He doesn’t know what to say, and judging from the way you’re nibbling on your bottom lip and glancing up at him, you don’t either. 

“I–”

“Thank you,” you cut him off with a tight smile. “For coming today, and for… this. I-I really do appreciate it.” 

The words aren’t quite sincere, but he only nods – noting the miniscule sigh that escapes your lips at the action. “Of course. Anytime you need us, just call, okay.” He waits for you to nod before continuing, “Do as the Doc said, rest.”

You all but scamper from the car after saying another goodbye, though Shouta waits until you’ve disappeared into the crumbling apartment block before driving off.

Maybe the inside is nicer, but he sincerely doubts it.

—

“You should’ve seen it, ‘Zashi.” The two of them are curled up on the love-seat, half empty containers of takeout littering the coffee table in front of them. “I just can’t figure out why she’d be living somewhere like that.” 

The blonde frowns. He’d been messaging you throughout the afternoon, so he knew that the appointment had gone fine. It wasn’t that he expected to come home and find the erasure Hero jumping for joy, but the subtle discontent on Shouta’s face had been enough to make him pause. 

“You’re worried about our ‘lil songbird?” he asks, pushing away just enough so that he could turn to study his face. 

The short nod says plenty. Of course he is – even if you weren’t potentially carrying his child, you’re young, beautiful and far too innocent for your own good. In places like that, you were easy pickings, and you don’t even have a Quirk to protect yourself. His job requires him to assess his students’ strengths, their failings and weaknesses and their progress. He doesn’t need to see you in action to know that you wouldn’t be able to hold your own in a fight. 

It bothers him. 

“She’s not safe there.”

Hizashi hums, but instead of settling back against his husband’s side, he straightens up further. “Well, why don’t we go take a look-see, huh handsome? Make sure our sweet thing’s pad’s all safe ‘n sound, put your mind at ease. Whaddya say?”

As he stares into those imploring green eyes, Shouta knows that he should say no. 

Concerned or not, there’s still a line, privacy that should be respected. He’s tired and this is the only night that they both have off this week. Your place is almost twenty minutes from theirs, and it’s already late – almost midnight. The list goes on, there are a thousand reasons that he should say no.

“Fine. Just for tonight.”

—

Two weeks later, the two Heroes receive a call from the agency; the blood test came back positive – you’re pregnant. 

In the blink of an eye, at least to Shouta, this becomes startlingly real. You’re pregnant. They’re going to have a baby. Boy, girl, it doesn’t matter… You’re pregnant, and as his husband ends the call and yanks him by his collar into a fierce kiss, he realises how important this is.

How important you are, just by the virtue of carrying their baby.

They invite you over for dinner to celebrate, and while he’s never been one to flaunt the comfortable lifestyle he and Hizashi have, he does find it strangely pleasing to watch you wonder wide eyed through their apartment. He’d be the first to admit it’s big – bigger than they’d ever probably need, though with the baby on the way maybe they’ll finally be able to make use of all that extra space.

Mic grabs you by the hand, eagerly dragging you towards the nursery he’s already begun setting up. “Once I heard the good news, I just couldn’t wait to get started! Our little rockstar’s gonna have the sweetest crib, don’tcha think? Ain’t it amazing?” 

He’s already started painting and there’s a wooden cot halfway assembled and the beginnings of a musical mobile pushed off to the side waiting for him to return to it. It’s hardly close to being finished, but you just grin, gazing at the mural he’s started on the walls. “It’s amazing,” you say.

“I knew ya’d like it!” he beams.

Shouta hangs back as Hizashi guides you through the rest of the apartment, chattering excitedly away. He likes seeing his husband happy, and somehow you manage to bring it out of him without even trying. It’s still early days but Shouta has to admit that already you’re more to him and Hizashi than he expected, or even anticipated. You fit well with them, seamlessly, as if you’d always been a part of their lives.

After dinner, they drive you home despite your protests, and Hizashi insists they walk you up to your apartment. You’re no doubt under the impression that they’re doing it to be gentlemanly, missing the shared looks between the two men as they pass the out of order elevator and tread down hallways with stained carpet and peeling wallpaper, ignoring the leering yellow eyes of your neighbour, peeking out from the crack in the doorway as they bid you goodnight, ‘Zashi squeezing you extra tight.

There’s an uncharacteristic hardness in his husband’s eyes as they both slip back into the car, “No way in hell are we lettin’ her stay here.”

On that at least, there’s no arguments from him.

—

Hizashi, unsurprisingly, is the one to bring it up.

The three of you are grabbing a bite to eat after your first ultrasound. This time, both of them had been insistent on being there, and he’s glad they were. Seeing that grainy image of their baby, hearing it’s heartbeat – strong and steady – had filled him with an emotion he’d never felt before.

It was happiness and excitement and wonder and awe all mixed up and wrapped into a gut punch that stole his breath away, and while Hizashi had burst into a loud fit of tears, burying his face in Shouta’s neck while reaching for your hand, he’d managed to keep his own at bay.

Mostly. 

Regardless, you have little choice but to indulge them when they drag you out to one of the blonde’s favourite restaurants – on the proviso that they had you home in time to get ready for work.

“Songbird, there’s something the two of us have been meanin’ to ask ya.”

You perk up a little, hastily swallowing down your mouthful of food so you can reply, “Oh?”

He wonders if you notice the way your hand already instinctively drifts to your stomach, your barely there baby bump. 

“Why’re ya livin’ in a place like that, sweetheart?” You freeze, the corners of your smile slipping, but Hizashi continues, “Ain’t the money from the agency enough? We know you’re working that other job as well… we just…”

Shouta can physically feel you tensing like a bunny caught in a trap, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to reach out, sliding a hand across the table as you pale, but you take it regardless. 

“Talk to us. Please,” he begs. “We just want to understand what’s going on. You have to realise that it’s not exactly a safe neighbourhood, and it’s not just you we have to worry about anymore.” Dark eyes flicker pointedly towards your stomach. 

It’s a dirty tactic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the truth. Did you realise how much danger you were truly in? Not just from the common street thugs – though frankly he thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle that you’d managed to get this far unscathed – but any number of villains with a grudge against either one of them, or Heroes in general. If they found out a pretty, quirkless thing like you was carrying their baby, how long do you think it would take before they tracked you down and kicked through your door?

Your eyes flicker between the two of them, and you swallow shakily. “I-it’s…” you break off, taking a deep, steadying breath, “It’s all I can afford right now.”

“But, hun, what about–”

“I know,” you say. “The money for the surrogacy isn’t for me. It’s money I owe.”

Neither Hero speaks a word as you talk, telling them about your uncle, the man who raised you, how his business went under a few years back and you both lost almost everything.

Shouta isn’t surprised to find out that your uncle turned to loan sharks when the banks turned him away and threatened to take your house. Alarmed at the man’s blatant stupidity, yes, but not surprised. Your eyes start to water when you tell them about how he died a few months back – a hit and run –  and the visit you were paid only a week later, informing you that your uncle’s debts were now yours, and payment had better come through quick. 

Your hand’s trembling in his by the time you finish. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t have any options, I didn’t know how else to get the money, and they said that i-if I didn’t pay up, they-they’d–” a sob catches you unawares, and once again it’s Hizashi who’s out of his seat and at your side in a heartbeat, sliding into the booth beside you, pulling you into a one armed embrace. 

It’s his eyes that you meet, and Shouta understands. He doesn’t need you to explain what threats were made. You were scared, terrified probably, and you had every right to be. 

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you sniffle. “I’m sorry for lying to you.”

Really, he should be furious. Disappointed at the very least. 

“Move in with us,” he says instead, ignoring your sudden, startled intake of breath. “At least until the baby comes.”

He should be, but this works better.

—

It takes a little longer than he’d like to convince you, but the two of them wear you down and a few weeks later Shouta finds himself carting boxes of your things up into the spare room in their apartment.

Despite the fact that you’re pregnant with their baby, you’re terrified of being a burden to the two Heroes, but it’s because of the baby that you eventually relent.

They want to be close, involved. They want to know that you’re safe – and their apartment’s state of the art security system will make sure of that when they’re not home with you. They want to make sure that you’re not exerting yourself, that you’re eating the right things and not running yourself ragged at a job you don’t need, stressing yourself out needlessly and putting the baby at risk.

All of that’s true. 

It’s just not the entire reason. 

At first, he convinces himself that it’s for Hizashi, as well as his own peace of mind, but he’s starting to wonder if that’s the full truth of it. Because of course he wants to keep a close eye on the pregnancy – he knows that this can’t be easy on you. You have no family left, and if you have any friends then they’ve done an excellent job of keeping you at arm's length. 

You have nobody but them, and it does bring him some modicum of peace to know that you’re just down the hall if anything goes wrong. 

Hizashi adores having you there with them, having somebody else to cook for, somebody to come home to at the end of a long day. More than a few times, they’ve both returned from a night of patrolling to find you curled up on the couch, fast asleep with a blanket over your legs and a book slipping from your fingers, having tried, and failed, to wait up from them.

You tune into Mic’s radio show on the nights you can’t sleep, and on the odd mornings that you wake up before either of them, they come downstairs to find bacon sizzling away in the pan, a pot of coffee already brewing. There’s something oddly charming about the way you pout while you pour it for them, knowing you can’t have any yourself.

“You’re a special kind of masochist, ya know?” Hizashi teases, sidling up beside you to grab a cup.

You sigh dejectedly. “I must be,” you reply as he plants a kiss on your cheek and squeezes your side affectionately, but it’s impossible to miss the sparkle in your eyes. You’re happy here, with them. 

Shouta warns you from pushing yourself too much, but even he can notice the apartment’s tidier when they arrive home than when they left, the freshly baked goods sitting on the countertop that weren’t there yesterday.

“I just… I know I can’t pay you back for all of this, I just wanna make myself useful,” you tell him one night when he asks about it. “I still feel like I’m taking advantage of the both of you, staying here…”

“You’re carrying our baby, that’s enough,” he reminds you, his calm, steady voice brooking no disagreement. And yet, as dark eyes study your face, he can tell that it’s not enough for you, so he sighs, and in a quiet voice adds, “We like having you here.”

He likes having you there. Sitting at the dining room table, helping him grade papers, lounging around on their rare days off together – helping Mic set up the nursery, volunteering to go shopping with them for baby stuff. He’s lost count of how many pregnancy books you’ve bought, pouring over them with a fine tooth comb late at night – often falling asleep in the process, leaving him and Hizashi to carry you off to bed with a barely there kiss to your forehead.

You fit between them in a way he hadn’t quite expected. Not a burden, not an interloper, but as if there was always a place carved out for you with them, and it’s only now that they realise that there was something missing to begin with. 

It doesn’t quite click until he finds his thoughts drifting towards you at work, his fingers drumming along the top of his desk so he can stop himself from reaching for his phone. He’s not usually so distracted teaching, and as the hours drag he finds himself glancing towards the clock on the wall, counting down the hours, minutes, until the day is done and they can return home to you.

Shouta can’t pretend for much longer that there isn’t something oddly satisfying watching your belly grow and your breasts swell as your pregnancy goes on. You’re glowing, and soft and beautiful, and he could kid himself and say that it’s just the normal effects of pregnancy, but there’s some part of him that’s strangely proud when your shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of your baby bump – knowing it’s his child you’re carrying. His and ‘Zashi’s and yours.

And oh, he wishes that it was only pride that burns through his veins at the sight of you, barefoot and pregnant, pottering around the apartment. Hizashi’s the one to hold back your hair and rub your back soothingly when your morning sickness hits, but it’s Shouta who takes care of you when you start complaining about aching muscles and joints.

He tells himself that it’s purely about comfort, namely yours, ignoring the way you flush and stutter when he drags you up the stairs and pushes you gently towards the bed, telling you to lie down on your side. 

It’s just a massage, yet the moment his fingers run along your soft skin and a breathy moan slips from parted lips, the very last vestiges of the facade he’d built up in his head crumble into dust. 

You’re perfection. Bared and beautiful beneath him, making the prettiest noises for him as he works away at your muscles, expertly releasing all of your tension. He’s glad that your eyes are shut and you’re lost to the bliss, you don’t notice the way his breath hitches and becomes rough and heavy, the way his cock twitches in his sweats, blood flowing south as you arc into his touch. 

Such a responsive little thing, aren’t you?

“You’re amazing,” you moan, and though you can’t see that either, Shouta smirks. “Please never stop.”

It’s a good thing he has restraint, because it’s taking absolutely all of his to stop himself from taking more. 

He wants all of you. 

Wants to tease and taste.

Take.

Wants to hear those pretty fucking moans take the shape of his name… Hizashi’s name.

And maybe he might have felt guilty for those perverse thoughts, for the way he wants to tear the rest of your clothes off and fuck you nice and proper, breed you–

If his husband hadn't been standing by the door, watching the two of you for the last ten minutes. Shouta doesn’t need to look to know that it’s not anger or jealousy burning in his gaze.

He knows that his husband’s far from disgusted, knows it from the way Hizashi grabs his wrist on his way back down the hallway, pulling him instead to their bedroom and shoving him back onto the mattress with a wicked grin.

There’s something positively feral in the blonde’s expression as he hovers over him, forcing Shouta back down with a hand splayed across his chest, the other reaching down to his sweats to free his aching, needy cock.

“You’ve been holding out on me, baby,” he sings.

—

They have time.

Your due date is still months away, and you’re comfortable, here with them. 

There’s no reason for you to consider leaving until the baby’s born, and Shouta is adamant about keeping it that way. Hizashi can huff and puff and moan all he likes, he knows that they have to take this thing with you slowly. He won’t risk spooking you and losing any chance they have.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t empathise with the blonde, what with all the affectionate hugs and touches you thoughtlessly bestow, the way you’ll plonk yourself down on the couch between them so they can feel when the baby’s kicking.

Hizashi’s gotten to the stage where he’ll drop to his knees to shower your stomach in kisses when he gets home of an evening before sweeping you up into a hug of your own, his face a mask of perfect innocence when he catches sight of his husband’s less than impressed expression over your shoulder. 

Having you here with them, this little temporary faux family dynamic the three of you have found yourselves in is easy, domestic and nice. It should be enough, but it’s not.

“It’ll be weird, going home after this,” you hum absentmindedly one night.

Preoccupied with the noodles you’re toying with in your bowl, you miss the sharp look shared between both men.

“Whaddya mean, sweetheart?”

If you notice the odd stiffness to the words, you pay it no mind, simply shrugging. “I mean once the baby’s born. I dunno, I think I’ve become too comfortable here freeloading off of the two of you…” you glance up, smiling a little. “Going back to work and finding a place on my own again, starting fresh, it’ll be different, that’s all. Not bad different,” you hasten to clarify at the blonde’s nearly stricken face, “just… different.”

“Well it’s not like we’re gonna be forcing ya out, hun! You’re always welcome to jam with us for as long as you want.”

You shake your head with a rueful little laugh, “We both know I can’t do that. You’ll have the baby to worry about and the last thing I want is to feel like some awkward interloper, always getting in the way – especially after everything you guys have done for me.”

Hizashi’s fingers dig into the meat of his thigh, tightening with every word out of your mouth.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not saying I’m never going to come around to hang out or anything, but once this baby comes I’m gonna have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life.” Your eyes meet his, wide and hopeful, and Shouta’s reminded once again of just how young you really are. “I can go anywhere, do anything. It’s kind of exciting, don't you think?”

It was a mistake, to think that you’d come around to them on your own. 

You were young and naive, still living out a rose tinted fantasy where the world was your oyster and all you needed to do was reach out and take it. And maybe he’s partially to blame for that, taking your problems and getting rid of them, making you feel safe and comfortable, not realising that that security didn’t extend outside of these four walls, outside of their protection.

They need you, but kitten did you ever stop to think that you need them, too? 

Shouta had made the mistake of forgetting how this all came to be – you hadn’t wanted a family, you were just trying to save your own skin. You still think that you can make it on your own, without them. 

He supposes he shouldn’t blame you for your misplaced idealism, it’s only natural after all. Some people just don’t know what’s best for them.

They need to be shown.

—

You don’t stir as your bedroom door swings open. 

Not as Hizashi pulls back your sheets, groaning softly at the sight of your swollen breasts and precious baby bump, stretching against the confines of your silk pajamas. “Ain’t she a fuckin’ dream, Shou?”

Not as the blonde busies himself in carefully sliding your sleep shorts down your legs, or even as Aizawa gathers up your wrists, pressing a kiss to each one, and binds them to the headboard with his capture weapon.

“Gentle, ‘Zashi,” he murmurs when the blonde crawls up on the bed beside you. “Nothing too rough.”

You wake as long fingers caress your cheek, tilting your face towards him so he can kiss you properly.

Shouta hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but bathed under the soft glow of moonlight from your window, he watches your eyes flutter open, the momentary confusion that flashes across your face followed by realisation, horror, as you try to jerk back and cry out–

Only Hizashi doesn’t give you the opportunity, winding his hand through your tresses and anchoring you against him, forcing your lips open so that he can deepen the kiss and groaning appreciatively when a terrified whimper escapes you. 

You still haven’t noticed Shouta kneeling on the bed between your legs, too preoccupied by Hizashi’s tongue sliding against yours. “Relax, kitten,” he says, laying his palm on your thigh, letting his thumb glide over the smooth skin.

“Let us take care of our cute ‘lil baby mama, yeah songbird?” Hizashi adds, breaking away from the kiss with a lovesick grin.

Tonight is solely about you. Your pleasure, whether they have to tease it from you willingly or not.

Your tears are kissed away, your broken little pleas swallowed under ‘Zashi’s greedy lips as Shouta shuffles down the bed, nudging your thighs further apart so he can lie between them.

The keening cry that leaves you at the first stroke of his tongue against your warm sex is a thing of beauty.

Blood rushes to his cock as you writhe, and he tightens his grip as much as he dares to keep you locked in place as he delves in again. There’s little finesse to the way that Shouta eats your pussy – it’s a simple study of reactions; the way you gasp and shudder when the tip of his tongue circles your clit, the way your pussy clench and quiver around the muscle when he eases it inside of you, massaging your spongy walls.

Never one to be left out, Hizashi decides that there’s a better use of his attention than just your lips. With your arms bound, he’s not able to take your top off entirely so he settles with yanking it down, freeing your breasts.

“Fuck baby, you’re so pretty. Look atcha!”

Your tits must be tender and aching, because the moment Hizashi’s mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking at the pert nub, a fresh sob bursts from your lungs and you’re trying desperately to wriggle away.

Hizashi just frowns, breaking away for a second to brush a stray lock of hair back behind your ear, “Ah shit, sorry babe! I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Shouta’s far too preoccupied by the intoxicating taste of your sweet cunt to notice whether he actually does or not, but he trusts him not to push you too far. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

Your baby bump is cute and all, but Shouta wishes that it wasn’t blocking his view of your face – he wants to watch every little expression as he slides two thick fingers into your dripping cunt and your hips buck up to meet him. It’s a twisted kind of pride he feels, pride fused with filthy, maddening pleasure as he pulls a string of choked moans from you with just a few shallow thrusts of his fingers.

His jaw’s slicked with your juices, your cunt sucking his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy whimpers and the way your muscles are tensing beneath him, but the desperate canting of your hips, rocking up against his face even as you beg for relief.

“Shouta, Shouta, please– oh god, please stop, p-please!”

He longs to wrap a fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut as you cum for the first time on his tongue. Or better yet, maybe have Hizashi wrap that perfect mouth of his around his cock and suck him off–

But now’s not the time for him to be greedy. 

Rough fingertips prod at your walls, searching for that hidden little spot that’s gonna make you go wild–

You almost convulse when he finds it, and Shouta can’t help but smirk against your cunt as you tighten and quiver around his digits. With Hizashi playing with your tits, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck, Shouta’s lips wrapped around your clit, tongue flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles on it and long, thick fingers driving you to madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, pregnant, oversensitive body to handle.

You cum with a strangled shriek, and Shouta almost moans at the flood of juices that gush from your trembling cunt onto his waiting tongue. 

“How’s she taste, baby?” Hizashi asks, green eyes blown wide, his own erection straining against his leather pants. 

Shouta doesn’t waste a beat, pushing himself up with one arm and grabbing his husband’s wrist with the other, yanking him into a fierce kiss – letting him taste your honeyed juices on his tongue.

Fingers tangle in dark locks, tugging him closer, and ‘Zashi lets out a low, throaty groan. It’s rough and eager, a slow burning frenzy that makes the blood in his veins sing with excitement. With their lips still locked, the blonde hastily yanks at the zipper on his pants, freeing the painfully hard member with a tight hiss. 

But when he finally does break for air, it’s not Shouta that he addresses, but you, lying spent, crying and breathless between them, beautiful in your fucked out state.

“You can’t expect to put on a show like that and not get me all worked up, sweet thing,” he coos, taking his flushed, throbbing cock in hand and giving it a few slow, cursory pumps. “I’m gonna fuck ya so good, baby – have you singin’ like a little birdie for me,” his eyes meet Shouta’s, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Nothin’ but the best for our cute ‘lil wife. Whaddya say, songbird? Lemme make you feel all nice and special, yeah?”

#yandere bnha #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere erasermic #yandere shouta aizawa x reader #yandere hizashi yamada x reader #shouta aizawa x hizashi yamada x reader #tw non con #tw pregnancy #tw breeding kink #tw age gap #oh my god it's like 5am why do i keep doing this to myself

[seriouslysnape]

Under the Radar

__

Severus Snape x Fem! Professor! Reader

Warnings: None. 

Request: hiii can I request a husband Severus Snape x wife reader. The reader is a professor in Hogwarts they don't want the students to know so they kept it a secret. And the Weasley twins are the first to know. (the Weasley twins are close to reader since she's kind thanks.) and you can continue it your own way. (灬º‿º灬)♡

Word Count: 2,014

“That is true, but we both knew that couldn’t last forever,”

__

“You have class in fifteen minutes, Severus.” You nagged at your husband who was still sprawled out in bed.

A groggy chuckle escaped from the man as he finally sat up on his elbows to look at you, watching as you hurried to get dressed before you were horribly late.

“So do you, love.” He countered.

“Yes, but I’m almost ready,” You argued with a slight roll of your eyes; “And you are not.”

“It doesn’t take me long. You know this.” He bantered.

It was true after all. Severus didn’t put that much effort into getting ready everyday. Pants, robes, shoes, and MAYBE brush his hair. That was the morning routine of Severus Snape. You were a bit more refined, taking time to pick out an outfit and making yourself look presentable to your personal standards.

“I know, but do you really want your Potions classroom unattended with a bunch of Slytherins and Gryffindors?” You grinned, knowing that they’d wreak havoc sooner or later.

Severus groaned at the thought. It wouldn’t have been the first time where he walked in at the last minute to stop Ron Weasley from throwing a cauldron at Draco Malfoy’s head. He swung his feet over the side of the bed, padding to his closet where you stood as well.

“One of these days, I’ll get a morning of peace and have you for myself.” He grumbled.

You gave a mocking, sympathetic pout at your mumbling husband. You took his face into your hands, drumming your fingers playfully along his cheeks.

“Poor baby. Because you NEVER get any time with me.” You said with a tone thick with sarcasm.

Severus huffed, but his arms snaked around your waist.

“Is it so wrong to want a quiet morning with my wife?” He questioned.

Severus had a point. It had been quite some time since the two of you had the opportunity to sleep in, to drown out the world until the two of you felt ready to brave it together. He missed waking you up by peppering you with lazy kisses and soft, sweet mumbles in your ear. Life had just gotten so busy that things weren’t exactly what he would consider standard for the two of you.

It also didn’t help that outside of your private bedroom, you weren’t exactly a public couple. Aside from the faculty and staff of Hogwarts, none of the students had any knowledge of yours and Severus’ marriage. It had been a mutual decision, considering that neither of you were sure you wanted all the kids knowing that two professors were married to one another. While your last name had legally been changed to Snape, you were always referred to by your maiden name. As far as the students knew, you and Severus hadn’t even ever had a conversation, let alone tied the knot almost three years ago.

“I know, Sev. I’ll tell you what. I’ll clear my schedule for tomorrow since it’s Saturday. We can sleep in...” You said, lowering your voice to a whisper in his ear; “And I’ll be all yours all day.”

The way that his eyes lit up made your heart leap. He kissed you excitedly, your laugh muffled under the kiss. Despite the fact that you had a ten minute head start, Severus still managed to be ready before you, stealing another quick kiss before he was out the door en route to the dungeons.

Your classes went smoothly as usual. The students were peppy with energy since it was Friday, but their focuses were very in tune with your lessons for the day. You had returned to your office after classes to do some fast grading before giving in to the weekend. Most of the students had returned to their dorms to have some down time before getting into their weekend shenanigans. However, it seemed that your biggest fans were even more boisterous than usual.

Your office door swung open rather abruptly, causing you to flinch and grab at your chest in alarm.

“Hi, Professor!” Fred Weasley screeched.

“Hey, Professor [Y/N]!” George echoed.

The red-headed twins were (without a doubt) very fond of you. Your personality just seemed to mix well with theirs, and you were always willing to take time out of your day to chat with them. You were usually one of the first to know about their daring pranks, always having to fake your surprise when they actually did them.

“Hi, boys.” You greeted with a smile.

It wasn’t at all uncommon for students to come by your office during the day. Usually it was because they had a concern about their performance in your class or confusion on an assignment. With the Weasley twins, though, they always came by just because they felt like it.

“Grading on a Friday?” Fred acquired, plopping down into one of the chairs in front of your desk.

George tutted, eyeing over the stack of tests on your desk.

“It’s a shame. You should be out getting knackered at The Three Broomsticks with McGonagall.” George said, scanning nosily over the objects on your bookshelf.

You snorted, resuming your grading.

“I’ll leave the heavy imbibing to the two of you. The day that I see Minerva McGonagall getting hammered at a bar will be the day that I become a Legilimens.” You replied.

George and Fred snickered, continuing to talk your ears off while they snooped around. You never minded their company, as long as they didn’t stop your grading progress. You didn’t notice when the two of them went quiet. You also didn’t notice when George silently called for his brother to join him across the room. 

Fred got up from his seat to see what George had found, his eyes practically bugging out of his head when he saw what it was. You had a habit of leaving your stuff laying around random areas of your office, so sometimes little hints of your relationship with Severus were out in the open for anyone to see. However, George and Fred were the only people on the planet who would actually find anything.

On one of your bookshelves rested an empty, opened envelope. It was a letter from a pen pal friend of yours that you had lost physical contact with after you graduated from Hogwarts. However, the kicker was that the addressed name on the front wasn’t what the twins would have expected to see.

It was addressed to you, using your married name. 

George and Fred looked at each other with quizzical expressions. Why in the world would you have something addressed to you with Snape’s last name? George and Fred had this weird, telepathic twin communication thing that always freaked you out. They could sort out a problem or have a conversation without ever saying anything. 

Their puzzled looks faded into realization when they sorted it out. They almost couldn’t believe it. Severus Snape married to one of the friendliest, nicest professors? It was shocking...but it did make sense.

You always wore a wedding ring on your left hand, but no one seemed to know who the lucky guy was. You were very private about your personal life.

Fred pocketed the envelope, and George announced their exit.

“Lovely to see you as always.” He said, holding down his giggle.

“Yeah, we’ll see you Monday, Professor.” Fred added on, ushering his brother out before either of them could blow it.

You gave them a friendly wave as they left, still clueless to the fact that they had found out your secret.

Monday morning rolled around (after Severus’ promised Saturday morning in) once again, and another week had begun. It didn’t take long for you to notice that something was odd.

Students all day had been acting strangely. Their quiet whispers and sneaky giggles when they passed by you in the corridors were definitely suspicious. You couldn’t get them to pay attention in class for the life of you, all of them clearly preoccupied.

“Draco Malfoy,” You snapped, hands on your hips; “Just what are you laughing about now?”

Draco’s laughter stopped, but his amused smile never left his face. This was the third time today that you had gotten on to him for disrupting class, him and Crabbe chuckling on and off about something. 

“Nothing, nothing.” Draco replied, still chortling under his breath.

You sighed out heavily. All of the kids were testing your nerves today.

“If I hear any more interruptions from you, I’ll have to give you detention,” You scolded, but in a calm tone; “Do you understand?”

Draco nodded, waiting until your back turned to the board again before he responded.

“Yes, Professor Snape.”

Your writing stopped, the entire classroom bursting into hushed laughter. You turned to face the young Malfoy, his cheeks flushed as he and Crabbe failed to contain their laughter any longer. It was obvious now that the whispers and weird glances were due to the fact that they knew. Somehow, they had found out.

“Professor [L/N].” You corrected.

“Hmm, but technically you’re Professor Snape.” He hummed.

You bit your cheek in thought. If they knew, there wasn’t any sense in denying it. But you were curious as to how this started.

“Draco, how did you all find out?” You questioned.

He shrugged with a smirk.

“I heard it from Pansy.” He admitted.

You looked to Pansy.

“Blaise told me.” She confessed.

You followed the trail of names and who-told-who until it stemmed back to the original perpetrators. Two suspects that you should have figured long ago.

“The twins. Of course.” You sighed.

The students had questions (and a lot of them), curious to know how long and how it had happened. Most of them were just stunned that Severus Snape actually had a life outside of his classroom. A life with someone like YOU nonetheless.

You were fidgety to talk to Severus about it. You were curious to see how he’d react and how this would change the way the two of you interacted during the school year. After all, it was kind of your fault for leaving your stuff around.

“Were the students acting peculiar to you today?” Severus asked, breaking you from your thoughtful daze.

Your gaze snapped up from your dinner plate as you peered at him with a fluttery belly.

“Peculiar how?” You asked.

“They all seemed mischievous. As if they knew something they weren’t supposed to.” Severus claimed, looking at you as if he already knew the reason why.

“Well, now that you mention it...they sort of know about us...that we’re married.” You confessed.

Truthfully, Severus didn’t care that much if the student body knew. It was inevitable that they’d all find out eventually, but he was interested to hear how exactly the cat was let out of the bag.

“They ‘sort of’ know?” He questioned, clearly amused; “How’s that?”

You sucked in a breath.

“The Weasley twins might’ve figured it out. They’re smart, Sev. Much smarter than you give them credit for,” You babbled; “It’s not their fault. I shouldn’t have-”

“Stop, stop,” He cut you off with a soft smile; “You don’t think I’m mad about this, do you?”

Your shoulders relaxed at his gentle tone, but your eyes remained wide.

“It’s just that we...always wanted to keep it a secret.” You reminded him.

His head nodded and he set his fork down to give you his full attention.

“That is true, but we both knew that couldn’t last forever,” Severus pointed out; “I could never keep you hidden away forever.”

Your cheeks burned at his compliment, your smile beaming at him. He nudged your foot under the table. It was a wondrous thought to think about how different (or not) things would be now that they knew.

“I’m afraid I’ll still have to keep my maiden name. To avoid confusion.” You stated.

“Of course. Just as long as you’re still my Mrs. Snape.” He grinned with a wink.

You returned with a laugh, prompting the end of the lighthearted conversation.

“That I can definitely promise.”

#severus snape #severus snape x you #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x reader #severus #severus snape x female reader #severus snape fluff #severus snape imagine #severus snape oneshot #severus snape x professor #seriouslysnape

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Angel has Kai’s baby in their 3rd (last) year of highschool and Kai has no idea since she hid her pregnancy so 2 years later Kai breaks up with angel to focus on his “experiments” when Kai is sent to Tartarus the guards tell him that he has a visitor and there’s angel and his child and Kai starts to tear up

"Eh...?" you could only mutter in disbelief as Kai read some papers with an unbothered expression.

"I know you for about five years (Y/n). I know you dont have any issues with your hearing." He muttered coldly before sighing and placing the papers on the desk.

"You... want to break up...? Why? What did I do?" You asked with trembling lips as he stared at your eyes.

"Is more about on what you can't and won't do." He pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose before waving it in the air "You know I am the future leader of the hassaikai. And having you near would be only a distraction to my experiments to give this place more credit. You would be like a rock on my path to gain some knowledge."

"You're kidding right?" You almost sobbed "You always told me I was like a safe place for you to go. What the hell happened to that? Or the promises you made for me for us to get married?" He blinked before answering.

"I was foolish. We have a life ahead of us and well, having you being clingy on my back would be a nuisance while working."

The ground could swallow you for all you cared... what the supposed love of your life just said was enough to leave you with eyes red and legs felling like they were trembling.

"Please dont cry. You're dropping them on the ground. And I dont even know if you're clean." You gritted your teeth before breathing in and looking at Kai Chisaki for what you swore for one last time.

"Very well. You want to break up because I'm only a bother to your path to greatness oh punny God? So be it." You walked until you felt him grabbing your wrist until you snatched it away from him.

"When the time is right, we can get back together." He spoke like he was in a fucking meeting in a company.

"No." You hissed "Chisaki I loved you, and I gave you everything of me even supporting your ideas. But then you want to break up with out of no where saying I would ruin your plans by simply existing neat you and to top it off you call me clingy and a nuisance?"

You could see a tad bit of remorse on his eyes as he pondered for a second his own words maybe, but before he could speak you sobbed and opened the door.

"Don't ever look for me Chisaki. And for your information..." you hesitated and gulped down the urge to just yell what you had discovered just earlier while clenching your purse where the pregnancy test lied on.

"What?" He asked, now no longer seeing to be bothered by your sadness and outburst.

"... good luck on your life. I hope you're happy with this obstacle getting away from you." You muttered before closing the door and walking out until you cursed and screamed while you ran as the rain started to make an appearance.

Not noticing the germophobic himself running out of the house with an umbrella to give it to you and soaked as well as he watched with a dread expression your figurine run away...

.

.

Ten years later...

.

.

"I swear Kaiyo... you gonna drive me crazy one of these days." You spoke heartedly as the boy with brow hair laughed in embarrassment while scrubbing the back of his head as you caught all the pieces of the broken chair on the ground.

"Sorry ma! I got carried away." You scoffed but soon smiled at his tiny hands and focused face morph the pieces and piece them back together and with a proud face show you the new constructed chair with a 'tad a!'

"Wow. Impressive sweety!" You patted his hair as he "complained", golden eyes shinning brightly at looking at you with a huge smile on.

Life sometimes was cruel to give the child you loved the exact same face as their father which teared your heart at pieces. But your love for your son was stronger than this stupid thing.

Kaiyo was your son. Not his.

"Ne ne ma? Father's day is coming up!" Kaiyo said and you froze for a moment before sighing while washing the dishes.

Here we go...

"Yes it is coming." You muttered as the boy sneak around and looked up at you.

"You know I dont really care about what the other kids say about me having only a mom but..." he rested his face on his crossed arms on the sink while shyly looking up at you "I was just curious... if I am going to meet mine..."

You sighed while placing the now dry plates on their place before giving your son the best smile you could get.

"Kaiyo, your father is just a very busy name. When we were together he had.. uh.. family business to take care of, so that's why we cant see him much." Kaiyo seemed a bit dissapointmented and it tore you apart.

You could have your own issues with Kai but that didn't mean you would make his son hate him...

"Well... Sato's also got a busy dad but.." he shook his head, messy brow bangs shaking along with his head, until he gave you a bright smile "That's okay! I just hope I get to meet him one day! And that he gets back to you and apologize foe being a dork! So us three can live together!"

A child can dream, right?

But you knew that Kai needed to know the existence of Kaiyo... you werent ignorant...

"Yeah kiddo. Let's hope for the best." You carresed his cheek before kissing it "Okay. Enough talk. Time for bed young man."

"Awww already?" He pouted as you giggled.

"How about that? You go get ready and I tell you stories about me and daddy while we were together?"

"Can I get my plushie of mr Nighteye?" You giggled. Something Kaiyo definitely wasn't equal to his father was his fascination with heroes.

"Sure honey. Now shoo! Go go go!" You squished his cheeks as he laughed and ran towards his room on the apartment.

You snorted at sign before preparing yourself for digging the past once again for the sake of your son.

.

.

.

"MOM!" You almost chopped your finger along with the carrot at the shout of Kaiyo before looking at him in worry to se ehkm pointing at the T.V with horror "The heroes-! The green hero with the girl-!"

You immediately went to his side only to widened your eyes at the image in front of you.

Chisaki..?

"Ma! He is a villain! A BIG ONE!"your son whimpered while going for you for a hug while stared in shock... "Ma? Why are you trembling?"

"H-Huh?" You let out until you gasped at seeing this teenager punching Chisaki square in the face...

"Ma?! You're okay?!"

You didn't know what to feel, but surely you weren't expecting tears to fall when this girl hand cuffed your ex boyfriend and the cops and heroes to put him into a van to surely got to the prison. Tartarus you bet.

You felt a hand rubbing your cheek and soon looked at your son wide teary eyes.

"M-Mommy...?" You hugged him close to your chest and holding his head close as your heart almost slammed out of your chest. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I-i... I'm okay honey." You inhaled before looking into Kaiyo's golden eyes to see worry on them. "Hey, mommy's okay."

"Ma...?"

"Hm?"

"That man looked like me..."

.

How long was he here? Months?

Didn't matter. Nothing mattered more... everything was taken from him. Including his own arms. Now he was just as useless as a cockroach.

Worst of all? His own father figurine on a damn hospital because of him...

Pathetic.

'Is funny how things change' is what you used to say... he found himself scoffing while pressing the back of his head on the wall.

He hadn't stop thinking about you ever since the day he made the decision of breaking up with you. He did tried inumerous times to contact you when he took leadership of the Hassaikai... but he just gave up.

"Probably married with kids already... why are you even thinking about her on the first place..?" he murmured to himself as he felt his chest tighten in sadness.

Everything was just... what he deserved.

He sighed. Closing his eyes for just a split second until he heard banging on the door of his cell until a guard opened the window on it to glare daggers at him.

"Get up. You have visitors."

"Leave me in here. I thought your job was to take seriously enough to not make jokes." He spoke on a hoarse voice until the cell opened with two guards already on it.

"I cant understand why you have visitors as well but get your ass up already."

He just blinked until he got up, two guards in front of him and one behind as he walked.

He just hoped it was fast.

He entered the room, mirrors which surely was where cops were hidden as he sitted down on a chair and waited until the door of iron opened by another guard.

"Right here ma'am. And remember the rules please."

"Of course." His eyes widened and he snapped his head up to see if he hadn't got crazy.

But no. You were there.

Gosh.. you didn't change at all... was even more beautiful than what his mind could have remember.

He stood there in shock as you got in but along with you... holding your hand, was a boy. Dressed with clothes but he surely didn't looked content about being in here.

His face dropped at seing the kid... you had moved on.

"One hour." The guard said locking the door as you stood there awkwardly, while the kid holding onto to you was glaring at the ground.

He wanted to say something but nothing came out as he was still in shock at seeing out of all people you decided to visit him.

The heels you wore clicked on the ground as you walked towards the table and sit down and the boy right by your side on the other chair... not even once you made eye contact with him.

"... (y/n)..." he whispered, still looking at you as if you were some angelical creature.

"Hey... long time that we dont see each other right? Chisaki." You spoke... not with a smile but not with hatred.

It was a start.

"You... hadn't changed a... a bit." He spoke, voice scratching at his throat as your eyes finally met his, his heart was beating loudly on his chest.

It felt like he was in high school again...

"Should I take that as a compliment?"

"I.. I didn't meant to offend you. Apologies." He bowed his head a bit as you sighed, looking at him with wide eyes out of the sudden.

"Oh God what happened to your arms?!" You almost screamed as the kid also seemed to notice.

"Long story... just.. a business that went wrong." He explained with dread as you seemed to relax a but while nodding.

It remained quiet for a bit only for the sound of the clock on the wall until he decided to break the silence.

".. so.. er.." gosh he was horrible with this "how is your life? Any.. uh.. you got the degree you wanted? I remember how you talked about it..."

You sighed with dissapointment as you looked at everywhere but him.

"No. I haven't... but I see you got what you wanted before being arrested though." You muttered and he let out a bitter chuckle.

"Almost.. yeah." He tapped his foot twice until he spotted the kid glaring at him with similiar gold eyes... "Married?"

"No. I thought it would be a distraction while taking care of my son." You spoke abruptly... as you looked at the boy beside you... "Anyway... I need to give you this."

You showed to him a paper before putting on the desk.

"What.. what is this?"

"Is a DNA test." You spoke coldly "To prove that you do have a son."

His eyes widened at that as he looked at the paper... and then to the boy whose was glaring at him not moments ago...

"Wha... but... "

"Remember the day when we split off? Yeah... was the day I discovered."

"W... why didn't you said something?" He asked in oure horror as you giggled in sarcasm.

"For what? This would only trouble you right?" You said with such venom on your voice that he felt a sting to his chest before you breathed in slowly before exhaling "I'm here because I thought you had the right to know... even after ten years.."

He looked at the kid and soon could tell the similarly between him and the boy... you had to raise a child with his face on it alone and he had broken things because of his own selfishness...

"What... what is his name?"

You pondered for a second before sighing, caressing the boy's hair.

"Come on honey... introduce yourself to your dad..." the boy huffed before opening his eyes and looking at him.

"I'm (L/n) Kaiyo. I cant say is very nice to meet you but my mom told me to say it for respect." He almost cringed at the introduction as he saw you looking at him with anger.

"Kaiyo." You warned as the boy scoffed.

"Dont need to scold him. He is not exactly wrong..." he ended up saying while you looked at him.

"I raised Kaiyo to have respect though."

"Why should I have respect towards him in the first place?" He looked at the dark brow haired kid "Not only he abandoned you ma but he is a villain! A very bad one! That girl on the Tv should be the same age if not younger than me!" The boy gritted with a few tears escaping his face.

"Kaiyo please... "

"Incredible..." you and Kaiyo suddenly looked at him "Despite having my features you are just like your mother... I would be proud of it..."

"... I'm not proud of being a villain's son." He muttered while sniffing "You abandoned us. I know ma hadn't said a thing to you but now I do."

You bited on your lips as he looked at loss of words at what he just heard from a child...

"... I know it doesn't change a thing but... I never stopped thinking about... your mother. About you (Y/n)."

"DONT REFER TO MY MOM AS HER FIRST NAME!" Kaiyo banged his fists on the table before you took him in your arms as the boy sobbed "You never cared! You-You-! Grandpa said you called my ma a bother! You are a MURDER!" The kid cried.

"I'm sorry about that..." you mumbled as you cradled the crying boy in your arms "He didn't take well Mr. Nighteye death..."

"M-Ma-! I wanna go home!"

"But Kaiyo, your da-"

"He IS NOT MY DAD!" he cried in you as you sighed as Chisaki seemed to be dying little by little at each second this visit had.

"I'm... going to go. Another day we will visit. Take care, Chisaki." You spoke before he could hear it and he stood up abruptly from his chair.

"No! Wait-!"

The door closed...

.

Months later

.

"Ma look. Hawk's wings are healing." The kid pointed at the news and you smiled.

"That's amazing! We could use some good news!" You chirped as Kaiyo smiled until both of you heard the door bell of your apartment ring.

"Huh. Weird usually grandpa or grandma visits us on-" you opened the door and you almost screamed at the sign of that same green haired kid on your door but now he seemed so... broken...

"Ma'am.. I'm sorry to bother you, but he said he can crash a bit in here... later cops will come to get him. I'm sorry but I need to go." Your son walked and squealed at sign.

"A hero!" Your son smiled brightly at him and for once, Deku had showed a smile for real... until you saw Chisaki leaning bruised to the core resting on the wall next to your door...

"Chisaki..." you breathed out as your son looked at him in shock.

"I'm sorry. Both of you..." he muttered while looking at the storm outside.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #overhaul #kai chisaki x reader #bnha villains x reader #bnha villains #x (y/n) #female reader #zuffer writings #holy moly this one was long

[luminnara]

It’s Been A Long, Long Time | ch 4

Summary:  When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back...and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Taglist:  @kyrah-williams @oceanmermaidwitch @shawnie--jo @super-cape @ferxaniti @namjoonwatcheshentai @fandomsstolemylife00 @youngblood199456 @nightlygiggless @darlingely

Amoretta swam in and out of sleep. Whenever she surfaced, she saw bright lights and strange faces, and, assuming that she was in a HYDRA lab, she decided it was better if she just kept on dreaming. After a while, though, she couldn’t manage it anymore, and she finally woke up enough to actually take in her surroundings.

She was in a hospital bed, and...a gown? She couldn’t remember the last time she had been given clothing. When she tried to move, she found that her arms ached, and she had an IV sticking out of her. Okay, so wherever she was, they were trying to take care of her. Maybe. That seemed like a good sign. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” a man’s voice said. “How’re you feeling?”

A figure came into view, blurry at first, and as he got closer she was able to get him in focus. Amoretta immediately stiffened, feeling threatened by this stranger, but as the scent of omega wafted in, she relaxed slightly. She couldn’t smell any alphas nearby, and that was good. 

Two good signs so far. 

“Wh-who are you?” She asked, her voice wobbly and hoarse. Her throat was so sore that talking was painful. 

“My name is Dr. Bruce Banner.” The man said, reaching towards a nearby table and grabbing a water bottle off of it. “I’m with the Avengers.”

Amoretta frowned. “The...who?”

He came near her slowly, twisting the cap off the bottle and offering it to her. “You’ve probably got a lot of questions. Mind if I ask a couple, though?”

She gave a little shrug as she raised the bottle to her lips. It felt strange to hold, the water tasting...different from what she was used to.

“Can you tell me your name?”

She thought for a moment, brows knitting together. “Subject 1096.”

It was Bruce’s turn to frown. “Did you ever have a...different name?”

After a moment, she nodded, trying to remember. It felt like it was on the tip of her tongue, just out of reach. Had it really been so long since she had gotten to say it?

“We can come back to that one.” Bruce said gently. “Do you know what year it is?”

She thought for a moment. “19...1986.”

The doctor pulled off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose and mumbling something along the lines of “Christ, not another one…”

She got the feeling that she was off by a few years. 

“Well, Ten...is it alright if I call you that?”

She shrugged.

“...alright. Ten, it seems like you were cryogenically frozen for a few decades.”

“...decades?”

He nodded. “Your body seems to have handled it well, though.”

“Did I puke?” She asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Not that I saw.” He chuckled. 

Well, that was a little surprising. She had a tendency to vomit after being wrenched out of unnaturally cold naps. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my lab, at Stark Tower.”

“What continent?”

“North America.”

She made a thoughtful noise. “What month is it?”

“June.”

“So Ursa Major is out?”

Bruce paused. “...well, it’s hard to see with all the light pollution in the city, but...yes, I suppose it should be…”

She let out a sigh. “I miss it.”

Her voice was already sounding tired again, and Bruce was quick to take the water bottle back before it slipped from her hand. 

“You should get some more rest, Ten.” He suggested. “We’ve got plenty of time to get you caught up when you’re feeling more energetic.”

“Mhm.” her eyes fluttered closed. “Doctor?”

“Yes?”

“What city am I in?”

“New York.” He said, looking down at her curiously. “Manhattan, more specifically. Why?”

She smiled a little. “I wanna see...Brooklyn…”

As she drifted off to sleep again, Bruce rubbed his face. Well, that certainly was oddly specific of her to say. It was a good sign that she seemed lucid, though. 

“Captain Rogers is outside, Dr. Banner.” FRIDAY’s AI voice said. 

Bruce met him at the door, making his way out as quietly as possible. Steve looked anxious, standing with his hands on his hips as he waited for news. He hadn’t gotten a chance to find Bucky yet, his friend either working out or sleeping, and all he had managed so far was a quick debriefing and a shower. 

“I ran down as soon as FRIDAY called,” he said. “How is she?”

“Sleeping again. Just missed her.” Bruce said wryly. “Walk with me, I’m starving.” 

Steve fell into step beside him, heading towards the elevators. “Did she say anything?”

“She did. She seemed a bit out of it...couldn’t remember her name, hasn’t been awake since 1986.” He hit the UP button and stood back. “Seemed very interested in constellations, though. And Brooklyn.”

Steve stared at him. “Brooklyn?”

“Told her she was in New York, and the last thing she said before she fell asleep was something about Brooklyn.” Bruce shrugged. “Really interesting thing was her blood tests, though.”

“Blood tests?” Steve asked, stepping into the elevator and waiting for Bruce to join him before the doors closed again. 

“Definitely an omega.” Banner said as they headed up several floors. “Her scent is so muted because they pumped her full of enough suppressants to kill a normal person. Pretty sure that’s why she’s so tired...her body is working overtime trying to process such a high dose. I think it was just pooling in her system while she was in cryo, not really going anywhere, so now her kidneys are doing everything they can to—“

“Banner.” Steve interrupted before he had to listen to an entire scientific explanation. 

“Right. Sorry.” The scientist cleared his throat. “There was something else that I found already. She’s, uh…well, at some point, she was given super soldier serum.” 

Steve froze. “HYDRA gave the serum...to an omega?”

“It’s confusing to me, too,” Bruce put his hands up in defeat. “Thanks to that, though, it’s hard to determine how old she is, or who she is, without her telling us. All I know is that she’s an unmarked omega super soldier with a hell of a dose of heat suppressants to work through.”

“Any idea when she’ll be up again?” Steve asked as the elevator dinged to signal their arrival. 

“Hard to say.” Bruce said, following the alpha out towards the shared kitchen near the common area. 

“I need to get to the bottom of this, Banner. FRIDAY, will you find Bucky? I need you to tell him—“

“Tell him what?” A voice asked. 

Steve smiled in relief. Bucky was there, sitting on the couch with a plate of Alfredo balanced in his metal hand, looking mildly curious about whatever his friend was talking about. 

“Oh, good,” Steve said, approaching him, Banner following behind. “You’re already here.”

“What is it, Stevie?” He asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“Well, as you know, I visited an abandoned HYDRA base today.” 

“I’m aware.”

“And I found...something.”

“...something. What kind of something?”

Steve suddenly wasn’t sure how to describe his discovery. “Well, it’s a...not an it, I mean, I found a…”

“Rogers here brought back an omega test subject.” Bruce interrupted. “She’s down in the lab right now sleeping off some nasty meds.”

Bucky’s posture hadn’t changed, despite how awkward and almost nervous Steve had gotten. He leaned back against the cushions, slurping down a few noodles while he regarded his friend with a mild expression. 

“Alright, so?” He asked. 

“So...I was wondering if you had any idea what HYDRA was doing experimenting on an omega.” Steve said, hands on his hips in a stance that was supposed to say I mean business, so listen to me.

Bucky wasn’t bothered by it. He was the biggest, toughest alpha in the tower, aside from the rare occasions Thor was roughing it down on Midgard with the rest of them. The others could puff up and posture all they wanted at him, but it never had any effect. He was always calm and cool, generally disinterested in their displays. He knew he was stronger, and he didn’t need to prove it, especially not when he didn’t have an omega to fight over. 

He shrugged. “I want exactly privy to all their secrets. I know they kept cells full of omegas around for a while.”

“What did they do with them?” Steve asked.

“Whatever they wanted?” Bucky shook his head. “I really don’t know. If they were experimenting on ‘em, that never concerned me.”

“You’ve gotta know something, Buck.” Steve sounded exasperated. 

“Why do you care so much?” He asked. 

“Because something isn’t adding up.” Steve growled. 

“They gave this omega enough heat suppressants to last a lifetime,” Bruce said. “Her system is all kinds of messed up.”

“Makes sense.” Bucky ate another mouthful. “HYDRA wouldn’t want to deal with hormones going crazy or any unplanned pups.”

Steve stared down at his friend. “Did they let you rut?”

“Stevie, at least take me out to dinner before you start asking about my sex life fifty years ago.” Bucky said dryly. 

Steve just raised an eyebrow.

“...yeah. They did. Think they couldn’t stop my ruts.” He relented. 

“So did they...you know…” Steve trailed off awkwardly. 

“Were you ever given omegas to get you through them?” Bruce asked, proving once again how much more capable of having this conversation he was than Steve. 

Bucky finally had to glance away from them in embarrassment. “Well…yeah. But I, uh...the Soldier, he would just kind of...well, they didn’t really last long, if you uh. Catch my drift.”

Steve paled. 

Bruce gulped. 

“...what? Look, I’m better now, I’m way past that. Besides, I never meant to hurt anyone, I wasn’t myself—“

“This omega is a super soldier.” Bruce said quietly.

Bucky’s face dropped, a flicker of something passing over his face. “...what?”

—

“Finally,” Bruce sighed happily, inhaling the smell of leftover pizza. 

“Bucky, does the number 1096 mean anything to you?” Steve asked. He was sitting in a chair across from his friend, Bruce sitting at the kitchen island while he ate his dinner. 

Bucky shook his head. “Don’t remember any numbers like that. They mostly just called ‘em all omega.”

He was trying to seem cool and collected, but his scent had shifted slightly. Steve could catch just the slightest hint of distress in it, and as he did so, he narrowed his eyes. He may have been separated from Bucky for almost 80 years, but he was still his best friend, and he could tell when he was hiding something. 

“Why would they give the serum to an omega?” Steve asked. 

“Branching out?” Bucky shook his head. “Why do they do anything? They’re HYDRA. They can do whatever they want.”

“So you don’t remember anything about an omega super soldier?”

“I don’t know.” Bucky sniffed defensively. 

“Buck, it’s okay if you do.” Steve growled. “We’re not going to judge you for anything you did. We just want to help her and figure out who she is—“

“Well I don’t know,” Bucky snapped, big fangs bared in a warning. 

Steve responded with a low growl. 

“There’s a lot I don’t remember, or did you forget how many times they wiped my memory?” 

“Seems like you’re hiding something, Buck, and I wanna know what it is.”

“Why do you care? You should just drop it,” Bucky snarled. 

Steve regarded him carefully. Oh yeah. He was definitely hiding something. 

“Hey, hey,” Bruce interrupted from the kitchen, intent on stopping their fight before it could start. “Relax, fellas. Don’t make me get the big guy out to shut you both up.”

Steve backed down. The threat of having the Hulk going after him was enough. Bucky didn’t seem to share the sentiment, though, his lips still pulled back in a blatant display of aggression. It was the first time in a while that Steve had seen him acting so defensively about something, and it was concerning, to say the least. 

“Buck,” he said, voice low with warning. “Are you hiding something?”

Bucky’s nostrils flared angrily and the insinuation that he was keeping secrets, but he managed to reign himself back in, stifling another growl with a loud sigh. 

“I dunno, Steve.” He admitted. “There’s...a lot I don’t remember. If I’m bein’ honest with you, I’m not even sure why I’m feelin’ so worked up about this.”

Steve nodded. It was a relief to hear that Bucky wasn’t acting this way entirely on purpose, at least. 

“You feel okay?” Steve asked. “Not rutting soon, are you?”

“I’m fine, Steve.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” Bucky snorted. After a moment of silence, he spoke up again. “Is the omega, uh...is she okay?”

“Physically, she doesn’t seem to be too worse for wear,” Bruce said from the kitchen. “The only abnormalities I found in our preliminary blood tests were evidence of the suppressants and the serum. Other than being exhausted and needing to adjust to consciousness again after decades of cryo, she’s fine.”

“Good.” Bucky said, a little too quickly. “I mean...that’s good.”

“She should be awake again by tomorrow. Hopefully, she’ll be up for a longer chat then.” 

“You comfortable talking with her?” Steve asked, looking at Bucky. “It might be good for her to see someone else who used to be connected to HYDRA. Might help her ease into everything.”

Bucky gave a nod, already distracted by thoughts of this omega. Was it possible that the girl he saw in his dreams was real? It was hard for him to know what had actually happened to him and what he had imagined, what with HYDRA wiping his memory whenever they felt like it. Ever since he had gained his mental freedom, though, he had been plagued with nightmares, his sleep always filled with the faces of people he had killed. 

As time went on, they were getting better, but they never really stopped. He just...didn’t always have to deal with the worst ones. Sometimes, he even got to have dreams that were...nice. Sometimes, he dreamt of a familiar scent, one he couldn’t really place and that he could never remember when he woke up. Sometimes, he dreamt of an omega, with long, dark hair, and the prettiest eyes he could ever imagine. He always saw her in flashes, a smile here, a sigh there, and with no idea as to who she was or where she came from, he had chalked it up to his mind trying to give him some relief from the nightmares. It had to be wishful thinking, and nothing more. 

Unless it wasn’t. 

He spent a while chatting with Steve and Bruce before retreating to his apartment. With Tony and Pepper gone for the night, spending it in some fancy hotel so that Stark could give a talk at some expo, and most of the others resting after missions, the tower was quiet. It left Bucky too much time to wander and think, and before he knew it, he was making a detour down to Banner’s lab. 

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he paused. What was he hoping to accomplish, exactly? He didn’t have the kind of clearance that Bruce did. He wouldn’t be able to sneak in, and even if he could, what would he do? Appearing at her bedside would just freak the poor omega out, and that wasn’t the kind of first impression he liked to leave these days. 

He shook his head, pressing the button for his floor and leaning back against the elevator wall. He needed to be patient. Tomorrow, when she woke up, he would be able to see her for himself and decide if his weird dreams had any truth to them. 

Not that he was getting his hopes up. He shouldn’t, after all. He would just set himself up for disappointment. 

Just before the elevator doors slid shut, though, the tiniest, faintest hint of a scent wafted in, and Bucky’s eyes widened. He knew it. He knew that scent, or at least...he used to know it. Somewhere, in a part of his mind that he tried to forget about, he had memories of a peaceful, starry night sky, a hint of pine, and a touch of cinnamon. 

Then, the doors closed, and it was gone again, leaving him confused as the elevator rushed upwards.

#alpha bucky barnes #alpha bucky #omegaverse #abo #it's been a long long time #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #winter solider x you #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x reader #avengers x reader #avengers x oc

[ecliptsukki]

his delinquent phase ❧ kaoru sakurayashiki // cherry blossom

navigation | music

➣ genre: fluff

➣ warnings: adam’s existence 

➣ request: can i request a one shot where you’re cherrys s/o and like childhood best friends with joe and cherry and adam and you’re gushing over cherrys old bad boy look with piercings and everuthing and cherry one day goes to S with his piercings and hair the same way as before just to see you fawn over him skjfks

➣ a/n: this took me three times to type up because the first two times i did it, tumblr thought it would be funny to delete it. i’m not sure if i love how this came out, but it’s still better than my original plan. hopefully this was correct to what the anon requested. enjoy!

ps: i’m also going to be going on a trip for four days tomorrow, so i’m not sure if i’ll be able to post. i’ll definitely try to start working on my other requests!

You had known Joe, Cherry, and Adam ever since the four of you were in high school. Out of the three, you had met Joe, first, not soon before you met Cherry.

You were walking down the eventful streets of Okinawa, admiring the sights and getting accustomed with the area. You had moved to the city not too long ago and already were growing attached to the place. In your defense, the city was your perfect and desired location to live in. 

A gentle breeze blew through your hair, rustling the leaves of the green trees. You sighed at the feeling of the cool breeze tickling your warm skin. Not long after that breeze had gone, another, harsher breeze blew past you. You flinched at the abnormally sharp wind, snapping your head to the side, in its direction. You were met with honey red eyes and short, green locks, swaying. 

The male slips past you, stopping abruptly.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, embarrassed, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You were in awe, seeing what the boy was standing on, and on alert because you had always been taught to be cautious around strangers, especially when you were walking alone. 

“Um, no. I’m alright, just shocked,” you shrugged, replying quietly.

Another harsh, but gentler than before, wind blows past you, revealing a pink-haired male. He had three piercings on his ear and one on his lip. Half of the boy’s face was hidden by his long bangs, allowing your focus to lock on his golden eye.

“Watch where you’re going,” he snaps at his green-haired friend. “Sorry about him,” he apologizes, giving you a polite smile.

All the sirens were going off in your head.

He has so many piercings! Is he a delinquent? Are both of them delinquents? If they are, I can’t fight them off on my own. What do I do?

“I’m Kaoru,” the bubblegum-haired male suddenly said, “This is Kojiro.”

Kojiro nodded at you, an embarrassed blush still grazing his cheeks. 

“Hey, aren’t you the new kid?” Kaoru asked, finding your puzzlingly familiar.

“Oh, that’s why I felt like I’ve met you before,” Kojiro spoke up, nodding his head when he realized who you were.

Awkwardly, you shyly respond, “Sorry, I can’t seem to remember seeing you guys at school. Are you in my class?”

Until dusk, the three of you talked, getting to know the each of you better. You were also able to befriend the boys you were so afraid of, becoming your first two friends in the city.

You met Adam in the dark of night, beside Cherry and Joe.

They had brought you along, one night, wanting to skate with you. You already knew the basics of skating, nothing more, nothing less. Therefore, as your closest, and only, friends, they wanted to get further acquainted with you in something they loved. 

“Who’s the sweet cheeks?” His hoodie-covered eyes left an eerie pressure on you, causing goosebumps to emerge from your skin.

“This is our close friend, Y/N L/N,” Cherry spoke up.

“She goes to school with us, and we wanted to bring her skating. Mind her tagging along?” Joe asks his hooded friend.

“Not at all, just as long as she can keep up,” he spoke in a cocky tone.

The pretentious attitude the unnamed face had was irking you in the wrong way. He seemed too mysterious for your liking. A third of the boy’s face was hidden in the shadow of his hoodie, leaving you only able to see the blue tips of his hair and his structured nose. 

He must’ve noticed your timid stare because he looks at you, under his hood, “Call me Adam.”

 Cherry and Joe look at you expectingly.

“Just call me sweet cheeks, for now,” you reply, distantly, not ready to let your guard down just yet.

You hear your two friends sigh, chuckling to each other.

“Don’t worry, she’ll warm up to you, soon,” Cherry told Adam, “We know firsthand how she is with meeting new people.”

You blush, remembering your first encounter with the pair.

Thinking back, you still regret letting your walls down and accepting Adam as a friend. Not a day goes by that Adam doesn’t linger in your mind, as much as you’d hate to admit. 

You despise that man with a passion. From your first interaction, you should’ve known that there was something off about the blue-haired male, but pondering on these frustrations now wouldn’t change anything. As much as you’d like to curse the man for hurting your friends’ and your feelings, you knew you had to move on.

You sat on the soft mattress of your shared bed, scrolling through old pictures stored on your phone. You saw pictures taken by Kaoru when you guys went on dates. Majority of the photos were candid, seeing as he always had told you that you were the “most photogenic woman” he had ever met.

You remember the day he had told you that. You also remember your laughed reply.

“Then you’ve got the whole world to explore, my love.”

Although, honestly, you thought Kaoru was quite the photogenic one himself. His gorgeous, sorted, pink hair matched with his golden eyes and perfect face never looked bad, not even at the crack of dawn or in the late of night. 

Speaking of which, you scrolled upon a photograph of Kaoru sitting all pretty with his piercings on display. Those piercings brought back many memories, humorous and lustful.

Ironically, the thing that brought you fear before now brings you yearning.

Honestly, once you had befriended Kaoru and came to trust him, the piercings no longer frightened you but instead, fascinated you. Those metal hoops further increased your attraction to the ponytailed man, leading you to the relationship you were in now.

Obviously, Kojiro played a big role in setting the two of you up together because both of you were completely oblivious to the other’s feelings. It got to the point that Adam almost had to step in and wack some sense into the both of you.

Anyways, ever since Kaoru had started working in the calligraphy business, he removed his piercings to maintain a professional image. You detested the idea, but you also knew that it was the best for his business. 

Now that you were looking back at photos of Kaoru as a teenager, you began to crave seeing him in those metal rings once more. You missed the “bad boy” look your boyfriend used to have, not that you didn’t appreciate how he looked now. It’s just that there’s a different vibe to his current and past aesthetics.

As you stalked through more pictures of teenage Kaoru, you were unaware of the very man you were thinking about watching you. He noticed the longing and craving in your gaze. Then, he caught a glimpse of what was being projected on your screen: it was him but in his teenage years. 

Suddenly, everything clicked for Kaoru, and he had the perfect plan in mind.

Something was off. Usually your boyfriend would insist on bringing you to “S” himself but not today. If anything, he was urging you to go with Kojiro.

“He’s been your friend for the same amount of time as I. You should take this time to your advantage and catch up,” was Kaoru’s excuse.

First of all, catch up on what? It’s not like you haven’t talked to Kojiro in months. Actually, you talked to him a day ago, at “S.” Secondly, what’s up with the sudden lenience and weak excuses?

Joe, who was also in on the plan, tried to help his friend out, making a feeble attempt to lure you with free food.

“I can get free food from you whenever I want,” you replied, squinting suspiciously at your friend.

“Not with that attitude, you can’t.” That pulled a raised brow from you and a regret-filled face from the muscular man.

Though you weren’t fully convinced that nothing was off, you still left with Joe, caving into their terrible attempts of covering up whatever they were hiding from you.

You had arrived at “S” with Joe for about ten minutes now, but there was still no sightings of your beloved, Cherry. Joe caught glimpse of your searching eyes and reassured you that he would be coming, be it later than usual.

Reki, Langa, and Miya had made their way over to you, sparking up a conversation with you, making you forget about the missing presence of a specific male. 

Miya was explaining the new training regiment and diet he was to use in order to advance his strength, leading you to worry for the small teenager. If he didn’t eat enough, it could become fatal to him. You didn’t understand why a child was being treated so harshly by his managers, forcing him to eat barely anything and train long hours of the day. 

You were concernedly asking Miya if he was feeling alright and offered him an energy bar you carried around in case of emergencies, which he gratefully accepted, when you heard the cheers of fangirls behind you. Knowing they weren’t meant for Joe, you turned around to meet the golden eyes you’d fallen in love with.

This time, there was something different. His face wasn’t hidden by his mask. You could see the pale skin of his cheeks and the pink of his lips. Besides the absence of the black cloth, you noticed metallic rings decorating your boyfriend’s lip and ears. Also, his hair wasn’t whipping behind him, as per usual, but laid low, drifting in the wind.

For a hot moment, you had thought you had finally lost it, but when you blinked your eyes, looking at Miya then back to Cherry, you realized you were still sane and your boyfriend still looked like he aged back into his high school days.

“Is that Cherry?” Miya asked from beside you.

You nodded, speechless.

You heard someone let out a loud laugh beside you, “Since when did he have piercings?”

Ignoring the redhead’s outburst, you were mesmerized by the Cherry you had been obsessing over a couple days ago. It felt like one extravagant dream that you didn’t want to wake up from. In your defense, as he stepped of his skateboard, coming to embrace you, he looked straight out of a fantasy. His skin was practically glowing, and his hair gently floated perfectly onto his shoulders.

“Hello, darling,” he spoke in a sultry voice, placing a soft kiss to your forehead as he held you in his muscular arms.

“K-Kao—” you quickly realize your soon-to-be mistake and fix it, “Cherry.”

His eyes shrink as he laughs, endearingly, admiring the flustered and confused look you were portraying.

“Is this why you and Joe were being so weird earlier today?” You asked, cheek pressed against his slim, toned chest.

“Indeed, my love. What do you think? Definitely brings back some memories of the old days,” he lifts your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“I love it. It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” you smile brightly, eyes lustrous. Pushing yourself up on your toes, you whisper into his ear, “You also look really hot.” You quickly pull away, turning a vibrant red.

“I think you broke her,” Joe told his friend, placing a heavy hand on the pink-nette’s shoulder.

After the supposed one occurrence surprise, you began to avidly ask him to wear his piercings, loving how attractive and domineering he looked in them. If he denied, you would ask him to, at least, tie his hair in the relaxed half up half down hairdo. He didn’t mind the different hairstyle as much as he did the piercings so it became a normal look for him. The only times he would willingly put on his piercings were when he was going to “S” or when the two of you were safe in the comfort of your own home, for research purposes.

#kaoru sakurayashiki #kaoru sakurayashiki x reader #sk8 kaoru #kaoru sakurayashiki headcanons #kaoru sakurayashiki imagines #cherry #cherry blossom #cherry blossom x reader #cherry fic #sk8 cherry #cherry blossom fic #reader insert #fem!reader #kaoru sakurayashiki fluff #cherry blossom fluff #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #sk8 x reader #skate the infinity #fluff #sk8 the infinity fic #kaoru sk8 #cherry sk8

[idontmeantosoundrudebut]

It’s you, the one who takes my hand - ZOSAN fanfic

A pirate ship sailing upon the strange waters of the Grand Line isn't the driest of environments.

As the bow of Sunny tears through the waves, sea spray leaps up to the heavens only to fall with a splendorous sheen of rainbow light onto the decks. When the storms hit, water sloshes down the stairs and dampens the grass, a constant layer of ocean-blood coating the floors and slicking every possible surface, the ocean trying to drag itself upon onto the decks like it's drowning within its own body.

So, the point is that no matter the weather, no matter the time of day, there is always a dampness to the decks of the Mugiwara ship. And a slippery surface is a hazardous thing.

But the flat, wet decks are not what concerns Zoro, no, it's the stairs. Wet wood and a staircase with more than three steps is more than hazardous, it's lethal. Kuina died from less, the stairs to the Dojo basement were smooth carved stone and it had been the driest summer in a decade. How many steps was it? God, he gave himself blisters walking up and down those stairs after her funeral, trying to understand how she fell trying to fall like she did. It was hours later till Sensei gently took his hand and guided him to his bed, ten years old and catatonic and confused and consumed by grief that he hadn't felt since his mothe-

There had been bloody footprints on the 13 steps.

13 steps murdered her. It would take less to kill a weaker man and though his Nakama aren't weak, neither was Kuina. Kuina wasn't weak.

Zoro naps by the stairs as frequent as possible. A vigilant guard that haunts either the top or the foot of the staircases that lead to the upper decks. A small God, ready to prevent the fall or catch the fallen, ready to prevent broken wings, cracked halos (broken necks, cracked skulls).

He's in the middle of his thirty-minute nap before lunch, perched dutifully at the top of the stairs that lead up to the Galley, when he becomes temporarily blinded by something flickering and bright. Opening his eyes, he sees that it's the sunlight reflecting off sea spray and it triggers something terribly close to fear, to panic, to dread. The stairs are soaked. Zoro stands with a purpose bubbling in his veins and marches like a solider on mission to the Galley. He doesn't take notice of the people gathered inside or the Cook as he hisses a playful insult, he's far too busy collecting cleaning cloths from the sink cabinet to pay attention.

And when he returns to the top of the stairs, his body roots itself to the spot and a sharp sensation shoots up his spine, like someone has just dragged a blade along his vertebrae. A sickness begins to churn deep inside him, but not in his gut, no, this sickness is deeper and perhaps, God, perhaps it's his soul that writhes with this vileness. Twisted and broken and ill, God, it’s more of a cesspit than a soul, more of a hole where all his sins live.

Kuina lies before him, sprawled grotesquely at the foot of the stairs. Her face is obscured by her blue-black hair and the awfully unnatural angle of her neck, her chest facing skyward while her forehead is pressed firmly against the floor. The same position Zoro found her in. Her small legs are tangled together and her even smaller hands rest awkwardly at her sides, her right hand curled up into a tiny fist. A final act of rebellion, a final display of strength.

God, she seems so small down there and Zoro has this Earth-shattering realization that the only moments he ever got to look down at Kuina is in death; Down the shadowed stairs at her fresh corpse, down at the casket as it was lowered into the dark earth, down at her tombstone through the incense smoke. He will never look down at her and grin and roar victory, her panting in the dust as he once did, grinning back at him with bright eyes and sharp teeth as she concedes defeat.

Zoro's mind is reeling.

Oh God. Kuina im so sorry, please forgive me god im sorry please please it's my fault god its my fault you wouldn't have gone to the basement for the whetstone if we hadn't used real swords god im sorry i shouldve gone with you i couldve caught you im sorry im sorry imsorry i loved you and i let you fall im sorry i miss you i should've been me god let it be me-

"Oi, Marimo,"

Blood shimmers and he blinks and she's gone.

With a deep, desperate gasp, Zoro falls to his knees. He hadn't been breathing. The whole time he'd been holding his breath, like a deer when it catches the eyes of the wolf, bones and organs and limbs held tightly by that toothed beast known as terror.

There is the sound of something being settled on the floor behind him and then there are hands touching him, clutching his shoulder and waist as if to steady him, warm words being muttered into the shell of his ear. A different kind of fear clutches him suddenly, an older monster with dirty hands and curling lips rearing its head as faceless fingers touch his skin. God, not that beast, not that filthy beast who he called fath-

"You okay? Oi, Zo? Zoey? You need me to get Chopper?" Those nicknames and that tone (soft as butter at room temperature) indicate to Zoro that the person holding him now is Sanji and that they're the only ones currently out on deck. The Cook reserves that voice solely for him and solely for private moments.

The grinning beast lumbers back into the shadows and his skin already feels cleaner, already feels like it belongs to him.

"Get off me, Shit-Cook, I'm fine," He grits out, but his voice is tight and shuddering and a dead like her give away to how fine he isn't. God, he should be though, it was just a Goddamn hallucination. He's had hundreds, thousands, he should be used to them by now.

A shot of blond hair comes into his peripheral and Zoro turns his head, coming face to face with the Cook who's knelt beside him with one arm curled around his side and the hand of his other wrapped reassuring around his nape. His visible eye looks deeply into his, searching but not too much as Zoro warned him once before, drunk for the first time in years and covered in his own blood, his thighs marred and emotions rampant. Sanji had asked why and Zoro slurred a solemn Don't look too deeply into me Cook, might not find your way out while fingering the deepest cut on his inner thigh.

What a disgusting night that had been. The last time he'd taken a blade to his own flesh was the last time he got drunk when he sixteen and nearly put a premature end to that moonlit promise. It's the only reason why Zoro doesn't get drunk anymore, because he has an instinct to cut down all of his enemies and he no longer becomes blind to the truth that he is his biggest enemy.

A thumb brushes over the shaven hairs of his nape and Zoro nods at the voiceless question for a few seconds before using his voice, something Sanji is trying to kick into him. Speaking. About... things. Gross and uncomfortable but necessary. Apparently. Zoro still isn't so sure.

"I'm getting there, okay? Piss off," It's a quiet hiss but more steady and no longer tight like there's something dying in the back of his throat, and though the Cook rolls his eyes and scoffs, there is a pleased quirk to his lips.

He wants to kiss him. But not now, he feels like he's been touched by death and he doesn't want to spread that coldness to Sanji. God, not him, his blue moon, his own sun.

There is a quiet moment then. Nothing but Sunny creaking healthily beneath them, the waves parting for her and running along her hull, the calling of gulls and, if he closes his eyes and Observers, the melancholy song of whales deep below them. Sanji’s heartbeat is there too, reassuring and steady, and Zoro wills his own heart to follow the rhythm. He realises then that he’s still clutching the cloths, his grip on them white-knuckled and primal.

“Did you see something?”

Sanji knows he sees things; he just doesn’t know what.

After Wano, when they officially started their relationship, it wasn’t hard for the Cook to notice moments where he’d pause and stare with a look of unfathomable horror. The whole thing is a “we are aware of it, but we don’t discuss it” kind of deal and, for Zoro, that is perfectly fine. He’s pretty sure Luffy knows too, in that weird way that Luffy knows things he kind of shouldn’t, but again, the topic has never been brought up. Again, Zoro has no complaints. Because explaining Kuina is one thing, explaining the other hallucinations is a level of openness he believes he’ll never be ready for.

In reply to Sanji’s question, he jerks his head as a stiff yes. The Cook nods his head back, thoughtfully almost, looking down the stairs as if he’s trying to see what Zoro saw.

“Need a hand with the stairs?” He offers nonchalantly, pointing briefly to the cloths pressed to his chest as he brings a cigarette to his teeth.

The others always comment on his habit with drying the stairs. Some like Franky and Brooke see it as a harmless hobby, while Nami and Usopp regard it with a sense of suspicion they do with all things that aren’t in the ordinary. He doesn’t take it too heart. Robin and Chopper are, as in their nature, just curious but they never pry for in-depth answers if he’s blunt with them on the subject, which he is thankful for. Jinbei has never commented but watches quietly from the helm whenever Zoro works on the stairs, as if making sure he himself doesn’t slip. Oh, what a twist of fate that would be. Luffy, well, is Luffy. He’ll laugh at any concerns Nami or Usopp bring up, saying it’s funny, but if someone tries to stop him from his private duty, then the Captain will downturn his lips and lower his eyes, as serious as a storm as he warns them off. It’s unnerving when he does that.

Sanji... Sanji doesn’t care, as long as he stays out the way. Well, that’s how it used to be, before they figured out whatever was simmering between them. Now, the Cook offers a helping hand and if it’s refused, which it usually is, he’ll bring drinks out and force Zoro to have a break. Each staircase takes him thirty minutes, treating each step as if it’s as blade worthy of respect and fear, so he works up quite a sweat, especially if it’s hot out like today.

“You know what? Sure,” He relents, throwing half of the cloths into the Cook’s lap as he stands, “You work on this staircase, I’ll do the other. Try not to lag behind, Curley,”

When Zoro turns around, he sees two plates of fruit sandwiches and two smoothies set temptingly on a silver platter, one red and the other green. Cook must have been bringing their lunch out when he found him.

They tend to have lunch on their own, just the two of them together. The others don’t seem to mind, Hell, Luffy calls them lunch dates and Robin always winks at him afterwards, like she knows about the make out sessions that always happen (she probably watches, the perv).

“Eat lunch first, bastard, then we’ll get to work, eh,” Sanji orders around a mouthful of smoke, patting the space next to him as he sits on the step, “And it’ll be you lagging behind, so you better fill up on energy before you even try and keep up with me,”

Such a cocky bastard.

Zoro scoffs doubtfully as he plonks down besides Sanji, their thighs and shoulders touching, and the cook passes him a plate with two fruit sandwiches and settles his smoothie between their feet on the lower step. Picking up a slice, he studies it for a moment. Glistening, bisected slices of kiwi and strawberry lie wedged between whipped cream and soft bread, he hasn’t had one of these since he was what? 14?

He’d won a small tournament in a different prefecture, Saga had come second, and the two of them had sat besides the rapids that ran alongside the Dojo where the tournament was held, munching on fruit sandwiches the host’s wife made. He remembers this moment, not because of the fruit sandwiches, but because Saga had looked at him, with cream as white as his hair on his chin, and said, “She’d be proud of you, you know,”

And Zoro knows he was talking about Kuina, but something longing inside him believed Saga was talking about his mother.

With a small shake of his head, Zoro takes half of the sandwich into his mouth and the cool sweetness that floods him mouth proves to be a good distraction for his gloomy thoughts. The cream is almost icy and the fruits quench his thirst as he chews on them, he’s only half conscious of the whipped cream dripping down till the Cook starts bitching.

“Jesus Christ, would it kill you to eat like a normal person?”

His automatic response is a proud “yes” as he crams the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, more cream slipping down his bottom lip and he turns to his Cook, giving him a sultry look to boost the obscene imagery of whiteness dripping down to his chin. Sanji, with his perverted mind, catches on quickly and he goes red from his nose to his ears, but that doesn’t stop his own smirk from cracking.

“Want me to lick that up for you?” He says it lowly, leaning into Zoro’s face till their foreheads are pressed together, and Zoro swallows his food thickly as he laughs throatily, “I mean, can’t leave anything to waste, neh?”

With a quick flash of teeth, Sanji lurches forward and drags his tongue up his chin, collecting that wasted cream, before capturing Zoro’s lips in a kiss far too heady to be held outside. But he could care less, because that cold feeling is being chased away by Sanji’s hot tongue as is delves into his mouth, curling and dancing with his own. Lithe hands clasp around the sides of his neck, drawing him closer, thumbs pressing into his jaw, and Zoro can only clutch the plate in his lap as Cook plunders his mouth like any good pirate does.

It’s like they become a single body when they kiss like this, breathing in when the other exhales, sharing oxygen like how they share each other’s skin. No matter how many times they kiss, it always leaves Zoro trembling, leaves his legs and hands vibrating, not even fighting Kaido gave him adrenaline like this.

They pull away, if only an inch or two, and Zoro can feel the thin string of saliva connecting their lips break and dribble down onto his chin. When he opens his eye, he’s met with all the blues in the world, swirling like whirlpools around two black holes, framed by blonde thread that must bee the frayed edges of some royal tapestry. No, it’s just Sanji’s eyes. But, fuck, if anything deserves foolish poetry it’s Sanji, and his eyes, and his heart.

Fuck, I love him.

Zoro’s panting canters into quiet chuckles that quickly escalate into loud laughter. The kind that cannot be stopped, that forces itself out of your belly like bubbles, that makes you seem a little mad. There’s nothing little about Zoro’s madness. Soon, Sanji’s mouth opens and peels of glorious laughter shoot forth, making him laugh even harder, and it’s not long before their clinging to each other in their hysterics. His Cook bows his head forward as a kettle-pitched wheeze whistles out of his throat and Zoro stamps his feet in utter joy, throwing his head back with his own set of strange cackles.

The plate on his lap slides and Zoro lurches down to catch it with a breathy, half-laughed “Oh no” but before it smashes onto the step, it slips right into Sanji’s grasp, who looks at it then to Zoro before shattering into a million whistling giggles. He’s left no choice but to follow. An arm wraps around his shoulders and Zoro is pulled into the Cook’s side, his head falling easily as he crows his mirth into the crook of his neck.

They are both so roped up in their baseless hysterics, that neither of them notices the little crowd observing them.

Robin, Nami, Usopp and Chopper peer from outside the door, looking down the walkway in the direction of the staircase to the right where they can just make out the tops of their two Nakama’s heads. Green hair is pressed into the side of Sanji’s neck, and their Cook waves his hand thoughtless in the air, as if he’s lost control of his body in his hilarity, cigarette smoke leaving serpentine patterns before him.

“Why- Why- hahaaaaa-” Sanji breaks out into a long high-pitched wheeze that triggers Zoro into a kind of laughter that can only be described as barking, “Why are we- hahahe- laughing?!”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” They hear Zoro practically sob, the vibrations of his feet stamping giddily reaching them and the smiles on their faces widen, very rarely have they seen Zoro get so joyfully worked up that he starts kicking like a happy child.

“Nami, are you alright?” Robin asks with a little smile and the others look to their Navigator, who almost looks tearful with her wobbly smile and glassy eyes, Chopper touches her leg as he whispers “Ah, Nami, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, just-” She shakes her head, flipping the hair off her shoulder as she blinks the tears from her eyes and gestures over to their laughing Nakama, “They’re happy,”

She sounds a bit choked up when she says this, like the very thought of Zoro and Sanji being happy clogs up her throat with great emotion, but she quickly dismisses it by clearing her throat and crossing her arms.

“Yes, they are, aren’t they?” Robin smiles, turning back down the walkway as another bout of hysterical laughter scares a dozen gulls from the main mast, “We should head back inside, before Sencho eats the rest of our lunch,”

As quick as lightning, Chopper and Usopp retreat inside, already calling to Luffy to say away from their Bansh dumplings. Robin follows coolly, leaving Nami to linger at the door.

Nami is sure that she’s never heard Zoro laugh like this. Maybe something similar when it was just him, her and Luffy, maybe the faint whisperings of it in Alabasta, but never has she heard him lose himself so violently, so honestly to happiness. There is a feeling like good booze curling in her gut at the sound of it, of the sound of their first mate, the Mugiwara’s unbowed backbone, allowing himself to indulge in joy.

And Sanji, who’s demons she’s witnessed him face and conquer, who’s served and served and served, has finally been given a love that isn’t scraps or lies. Comparing the Sanji she saw on Whole Cake Island to the Sanji who sits on Sunny’s stairs (home) with his greatest feast beside him, laughing as freely as piracy, it is a completely different person. A happier person.

Nami pushes the door open but stops herself from walking through to watch as Sanji scoops Zoro effortlessly in his lap. Instead of doing the usual too-macho-for -shows-of-intimacy act, Zoro makes a sound too close to a giggle as he swathes his large arms around Sanji’s neck and draws the grinning cook into an embrace. A small smile tugs her lips as she observes further; Sanji prompts his chin on Zoro’s generous chest, smiling sunnily up at him, and the Swordsman rebuttals with an expression as soft as dove feathers, as tender as peach flesh, as gentle as lover’s hands.

Despite them being together for nearly a year, Sanji almost seems taken aback by such an expression. Nami cannot blame him. Looking at a gentle-faced Zoro is like looking at some mythical creature, like a unicorn or an angel, as bewitching as it is strange, as unbelievable.

She walks into the Galley just as Sanji surges up, pressing his lips to Zoro’s with a sweetness that rivals every desert he’s ever put his heart into.

#zosan #zosan fanfic #one piece #blackleg sanji #roronoa zoro #nami #angst #my soft gays #they love each other #Zoro has problems #lol #kuina #no one suspects stairs #oops

[beardrabbles]

invitation.

characters: GN!reader, claude, mentions of GN!byleth

warnings: none

word count: 2,814

notes: posted this on ao3 ages ago and totally forgot to post it here too :’) got into the fandom late, like alwaaaays! but i have an enormous claude / golden deer bias and wanted to write some fluff with him.

You forgot sometimes that this peaceful spot tucked between the trees wasn’t yours alone. You shared it with another from time to time, but it had been so long since the last time you both stepped foot in the clearing that it startled you to hear footfalls crunching at the grass behind you. Pushing yourself up halfway, eyes blinking blearily, you spotted the richly dressed prince with his hands planted on his hips.

“Napping without me?” Claude clicked his tongue, and you quickly replied with a roll of your eyes.

“I can’t nap here on my own?” You fell back again, letting the soft grass cushion you. A soft, content sigh escaped through your nose as the sweetest of breezes barely brushed your skin. It smelled of flowers and damp leaves, dense soil and a distant storm. There was no zing of hot iron or blood, and it was a relief.

“I thought it was our thing.  .  .”

You felt him sit beside you, taking up his usual position to your left. The tiniest flutter tickled the inside of your ribs, his nearness nearly making your head spin. “Before I came along, it was just your thing, remember?”

“Well, yeah, but I like it better this way.” Claude leaned back on his hands, eyes up towards the greying sky. It had taken fighting a war to bring back their usual glimmer, but it was there in full. Bright, hopeful, determined. Laying there, gazing up at the unsuspecting prince, it was almost as if you were looking at the man from five years ago — the cunning, clever and sometimes troublesome man that you had fallen head-over-heels for and had continued to painfully pine for.

“Me too.” You dared to smile, his gaze shifting to you. Adoring him hurt, but no amount of hurt would have you appreciating his presence any less.

Claude returned the smile, and the gesture sent your heart slamming against your chest. But just as quickly as it came, the smile faded. “I spoke to Byleth.”

You sat up in an instant, concern etched into your face. You were aware that he had gone to meet them, but he had failed to tell you why. You equally failed to push the subject, as it wasn’t your place to disrespect a man in his position. Curious as you might have been, you assumed it was best not to ask and only hope that he trusted you enough to confide in you later. Seemed you were right, though you acknowledged to yourself that it was a rare thing.

“How did it go?”

“They’re disappointed I won’t be here for the coronation. I can’t blame them. After everything we’ve been through together, I should be here for them. I want to hope they understands. They always have.” He exhaled sharply. “But, hey, I got to see them smile again! I think as long as they’re here, Fódlan will be in good hands. If they keeps smiling, if they keep breaking down the walls that were built up, I can go home and do my part there. I trust them.”

You shifted, feeling uncomfortable in your envy.

“So they’re not coming with you to Almyra?” You wondered. Claude shook his head.

“No, and I didn’t want to ask. Fódlan needs to be taken care of. It needs a parent that will hold its hand and lead it in the right direction. It’s gonna stumble around like an infant walking for the first time, but that’s why they’re the best person to lead. They’ll know what to say and do to help this little baby along.”

You screwed up your face and nudged him with your shoulder.

“You really like talking about babies.” You pointed out. Claude’s cheeks and the tips of his ears darkened a fraction, but he dismissed it with a hearty chuckle.

“I guess I do. I wonder why that is.” He trailed off, voice soft but nowhere near as confused as his words would have lead you to believe. You had long ago resigned yourself to never truly understanding him, so you shrugged. Trying to pick through his mind was like attempting a hedge maze without a map.

“Does that mean you’re going to be heading back soon?”

“I can’t stay for long. There’s so much I need to do if I’m going to see things through, but there’s something important I need to do here before I can go home.” There was sharpness to his eyes that you recognized and deeply adored. He was planning something, and you felt your curiosity rise again.

“What is it? Can I help?” You were always so quick to offer him aid. Usually, he gently denied it, stating time and time again that most of his schemes were for his mind alone. Things often worked out for the better that way. The fewer people that knew, the less chance they could commandeer the plan or ruin it. Yet you still asked just in case he needed you.

“Maybe. Before that, can I ask you something?”

You frowned. “Of course. You can ask me anything, you know that.”

“You’ve been saying that since we met. Is it really true?” Claude smirked and raised a single brow, only for you to shove him harmlessly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” You eyed him for a moment, worry mounting. “Was that what you wanted to ask me?”

The prince shook his head, as if he were getting off track. “No. I wanted to know where you plan to go. What are your plans for the future?”

“Oh! Oh.” You frowned when the sudden realization that you had no plans slammed into you. “I don’t.  .  . know. I haven’t thought about it. I’ve been so busy supporting everyone else, doing what I can for them, that I don’t know what to do with myself. Everyone’s grown up. They’re all doing their own thing, starting their own lives. No one needs me anymore.”

“That’s not true.” Claude’s voice was firm in your ear, and his expression was set to match. You smiled meekly.

“I grew up with all of you, but it felt like my purpose was to help you all find yours. Not that I really think I’m capable of being that helpful, but I never took the time to think about myself. I was too worried about you all reaching your dreams that I didn’t have one. I don’t have one.” You amended the last part quickly because it was blatantly clear to you that you had no direction to go in.

“There has to be something you want.” Claude pushed. You laughed.

“At the risk of repeating myself, I want what you want. I want you to succeed.” You opened your mouth again, but were quick to clamp them shut when another thought arose. I want to be with you.

It was lovely to imagine, but you had lived with the fact that any future with him was left solely to your imagination. You met him as an heir, and you knew him now as a prince. The differences in your status was vast and hard to ignore. Claude had his mind set on making those differences unimportant, but you doubted that he could find room in his heart for you. He had a country to take care of and love, not to mention you two had been friends since the start of your time at the academy. Too much time had passed since then, and while your feelings had grown deeper and more troublesome, you were sure he had none to begin with. No, as students, he had been too preoccupied with tormenting you. Teasing, poking, taking up your time with nonsense and rarely giving you a moment to yourself.

Despite him being a brat at times, you loved him. And even if he didn’t reciprocate, you were grateful to have known him at all.

“So you’re not bound to Fódlan?” His voice shook you from your thoughts.

“What?”

“Do you have any obligations here in Fódlan?” His gaze was so intently set on you that it made you squirm, the feeling ten times worse since coming out of your own head.

“No, not that I can think of.” You couldn’t recall making any promises.

“Right, so you could leave.” Claude hummed thoughtfully and got to his feet. Once upright, he dusted the grass from his clothes and offered you a hand. Confused, you took it and let him pull you into standing.

“I guess I could, but where would I even go? I don’t know anyone outside of Fódlan.” You felt something subtle was being said, you couldn’t catch on. Some days, you could. You had learned him just as he had learned you, but he was always several steps ahead. You could read him, but only the pages he allowed you to see. In this case, the pages were written on, but only in bits and pieces.

Claude gave you a pointed stare and a gentle, encouraging squeeze to your hand. When you failed to understand, he raised both eyebrows and pointed to himself. No words were needed. His gestures and odd line of questioning were like a clarifying slap to the face. You reeled, giving him a wide-eyed stare while sputtering idiotically.

“Wh——”

“That took you while. I was starting to worry I’d have to spell it out for you.” Claude put on a convincing pout. “Unless this is your weird way of telling me you don’t want to come with me.”

“No!” You leaped too soon, your eagerness prompting a smirk on the prince’s face. You fell silent again, worried that saying anything more might reveal all of what you had been trying to hide for over five years. “I’m not saying that.”

“What are you saying?” He purred cunningly, hand still holding tightly to yours. You didn’t resist when he to eased you closer, your heart screaming in your chest. Cheeks red and breaths shallow, you could hardly think. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

I’m still napping, and this is just another stupid dream.

You swallowed hard and peered up at him. “I think I should be asking you that, Mr. Vague.”

“Ah-ah,” chided the cheeky man, “you’ll have to address me as Prince Vague now.”

You scoffed and gave him another shove. When your hand pressed to his shoulder, he trapped it there with his own. Even closer now, Claude lowered his head until your noses nearly touched. You sucked in a breath and found yourself unable to move away, attention trapped in his bright, beautiful eyes.

“You want to know what I’m asking you?” He lowered his voice, tone growing tender and warm. You nodded. “I’m asking if you’ll come home with me. I want you to meet my parents and my people, and I want them to meet you. I want them to love you as much as——”

He choked for a moment, a rare flicker of pure emotion startling him.

“As much as what?” You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but he was making it incredibly difficult not to.

Claude calmed himself with a shaky breath and tilted his chin down, lips barely ghosting the curve of your cheek. His eyes fluttered half closed, while a single lock of his dark hair tickled at your cheek. When you didn’t shy away, he spoke again in honeyed tones. “I want them to love you as much as I do.”

“You can’t mean that.” Your entire being felt numb with glee, but you couldn’t process his confession without a little doubt. He met your doubt with a chuckle, so you persisted. “Why me?”

“Why not you?” He nuzzled into your cheek, and you felt the compulsion to reach up and thread your fingers through his hair. You had done so many times before, letting the gentle touches calm him during his bad days, but there was new meaning behind it now. There was an honest love behind it as your dragged your fingers through the strands, pushing them back and away from his darling face.

“There were so many others.  .  .” So many people wanted his attention, his affection. You were but one in a thousand that longed for him.

“I didn’t care. I dreamed of many futures, and all of the best ones had you standing there beside me.” He muttered into you, the softest of kisses resting just under your eye.

“We argued so much.” You shuddered, warmth blooming in your cheeks.

“You kept me grounded. How can anyone expect to be a decent ruler if they’re always agreed with?” He countered. You huffed and tried to think of another argument.

“You used to tease me all the time.” You muttered.

“I’ll admit that was dumb of me, but it felt like the only way to get your attention.” His lips found the tip of your nose, and you couldn’t contain a snicker. “You looked so cute when you were embarrassed, especially when you wrinkled your nose. I couldn’t help it.”

“Why do I feel like you still can’t help it?” You tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear and let your fingers follow the path of his facial hair. He was putty in your hands, cheek pressing to your hand.

“It’s part of my charm.” Claude flashed his usual smile, then took a step back. The lack of closeness left you feeling a little colder, but the distance let you appreciate him fully. Tall, handsome, commanding. You were exceedingly proud of him, and you felt yourself falling for him all over again. But before you could think to speak, he started again. “You don’t have to answer me right away. I know this a lot to ask of you, so I want to give you the time you need. I’m leaving in two days. Meet me at the——”

You didn’t allow him to finish. Your heart was too full and on the verge of bursting, and it seemed silly to you that he didn’t know what your answer would be when he was so skilled at predicting you. Rather than let him wonder, you removed your hands from his and took his face between them. You gathered your courage, mustered with his help, and pulled him down for a soft but silencing kiss.

Claude wasn’t often rendered speechless, but he supposed he didn’t mind being put in his place if it meant your lips fitting against his as perfectly as they did. Unfortunately for him and the heat radiating throughout him, you didn’t let the kiss last long. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and crush you against his chest like he’d long to for years, but you parted from him too soon for his liking.

“Where are you going?” He took chase, but you placed your hand over his mouth. Claude stilled and arched a brow.

“I’ve had my answer for years, Claude. I’m with you in every possible way. But if I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?” You uncovered his mouth, but his silence told you more than words would. “How long have you, uh.  .  .”

“Cared for you? Admired you? Wanted to kiss you the way you just kissed me?” Every question he posed in response to yours made your heart thud and your cheeks burn. “A long, long time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I was never given the chance.” He answered so surely that you wondered if he had those words prepared. You couldn’t pester him about it — too many things had gone horribly wrong during your time at the academy, and it didn’t make sense to plant seeds in dead soil. There would have been no guarantee that it would bloom and flourish, but with the land starting a slow recovery, you hoped that what you two started here would become lusher and more far-reaching than any forest in Fódlan.

“It’s alright.” You giggled giddily and granted him another kiss, this one to the corner of his lips. “We were given our chance, and you took it.”

“Does that mean you’re going home with me?” He asked.

“I told you——”

“I want to hear you say the words.” Claude softly pleaded. Weak for his doe eyes, you melted in his arms and relented.

“I’m going home with you, Claude. I want to meet your parents, and I want to get to know your people. And for as long as I’m there, for as long as you’ll have me, I want to get to know you better.”

A soft sigh tinged with relief escaped the man as his head came to rest on your shoulder. His grasp on you tightened, and you felt his heart beat against your chest.

“Thank you.”

You smiled and embraced him. “Don’t thank me. Just take me home.  .  .”

#claude von riegan x reader #fire emblem reader #fire emblem three houses #fe3h