#you would not even believe the amount of grown adults i had to argue with because apparently they NEED their lightsabers

[anotherpapercut]

the only good thing about having worked in a movie theater when Star Wars: The Force Awakens came out is that whenever I go to a movie theater and the employees are overwhelmed and apologetic I just say "it's okay don't worry about it, I used to work in a movie theater too. I was working when the force awakens came out" and they say "oh, oh my god" and immediately relax their shoulders

#the first star wars movie in a decade............ #i couldnt see it for 2 weeks because i had to work almost every single day and we werent allowed to see sold out showings #you would not even believe the amount of grown adults i had to argue with because apparently they NEED their lightsabers #cannot see the movie without them #also we couldn't let in people with full face paint 🤦 i got yelled at by like 4 different darth mauls #horrible #just awful #anyway when i went to see barbie the guy was apologizing over and over that they were out of a bunch of stuff #and he was like its just been crazy with barbenheimer you know and i said yes i understand #and he was like holy shit im so sorry

[piratefishmama]

Nest | Part 16

A Steddie A/B/O ficlet

“WHAT THE HELL KIND OF OPERATION ARE YOU RUNNIN HERE?!”

Steve felt… numb. He was tired. He was hungry. He felt… lost. It’d happened so fast.

No amount of rational thought could have fixed the conclusion Eddie’s confused mind had come to. No explanation could have cut through the panic, the fear, the pain, that radiated from the omega, the air that’d been filled with such a sweet desire replaced far quicker with pain, anger, confusion and fear he’d been choking on it, the air vents unable to clear it quick enough, he’d been struggling to talk, struggling to breathe when the doors had opened.

Security had gotten him out. A Beta dragged him out by the scruff of his shirt while another two worked to keep Eddie's panicked, inconsolable self corralled away from him.

It happened so quickly. And now he sat there, his back against the wall, sat on the floor, head in his arms, a patch on his neck to mask the stank of Alpha negativity that'd undoubtedly have choked anyone in his immediate vicinity, a scrap of fabric in his hand, and Robin beside him, unusually quiet, her arm wrapped around his shoulders as they listened to the eldest Munson react as any guardian would in this situation.

He’d left his nephew at a clinic to be taken care of, under medical advisement, had undoubtedly spent the majority of the week worried sick, and then receive a call from clinic security claiming something had gone wrong. Wayne Munson had turned up in a rusted old pick up truck that screeched as it pulled up into the carpark ten minutes after security had completely ignored Owens's instructions to leave it alone, and did their job in contacting him.

nobody could blame them, it was their job to contact Eddie's next of kin should something go wrong.

It all happened so fast.

He couldn’t see Eddie. Eddie who was still in recovery, Eddie who still needed him. Eddie, who wasn’t done with his heat yet and needed to be taken care of and soothed by his alpha for at least another day or so, it wasn’t healthy to cut it short there.

Eddie still needed him. He could go into another spiral, he could hurt himself, he could—

He couldn’t hear Owens replies, could only hear Wayne Munson, the man rightfully furious that they’d allowed an alpha into his nephews room when the man was at his most vulnerable. It didn’t matter that Eddie was a grown adult man, it didn’t matter that he didn’t need a guardian.

And it didn’t matter that nothing had happened. Eddie thought something had, and in the state he was in, nothing could convince him otherwise.

The door opened, both Steve and Robin looked up in unison, both shrinking back as Wayne looked down at them both with understandable fury, nothing they could even argue against, and turned to Owens with a clipped “I want my nephew here in two minutes ready to go” Owens opened his mouth to argue, hell Steve opened his mouth to argue but Wayne simply held up his hand cutting them both off, “I don’t give two flyin fucks what you lot think, my nephew is coming home. Now. The worst is over, I’ll handle the rest.” Steve shrunk back under his harsh glare, too exhausted to formulate a reason as to why that was a bad idea.

It’d be fine. Wayne was family. The worst was over he was right, and sure the next twenty four to forty eight hours could go in either direction, he had to trust that Wayne could handle it.

That didn’t stop him from scrambling to his feet the moment Wayne turned to walk away though, desperation in the voice he barely managed to find “W-wait! Wait, please… Mr. Munson, I swear… I didn’t hurt him, an I know—I know that’s hard to believe, I get that, but—but could you… could you give him this, at least just—it’ll help, it’ll help him” Wayne looked at him through cold eyes, his expression damn near thunderous, silent for a moment, he dipped his gaze to the scrap of fabric in Steve’s hands, the towel.

Just a little towel.

A towel Eddie had clung to throughout the night, so close to his face, a comfort. Something still drenched in Steve. Wayne looked down at it with narrowed eyes and for a moment, Steve thought he’d refuse.

That he’d shoot him down without mercy, but something in him just couldn’t seem to do that.

That cold gaze softened, just a little, his shoulders relaxed as if acceptance had won some kind of internal battle inside of him, then wordlessly he took the towel with a subtle nod, and made his way out to wait at the front.

Security would bring Eddie out. He wasn’t a danger to anyone but himself in the final stage, not really. The final stage of a heat was just… recovery. An Omega needed comfort, they needed something or someone familiar, in shared heat situations they needed their alpha to take care of them or they could spiral.

They needed to be pampered. To be reassured. To be loved.

Every fibre of Steve’s being ached to be the person doing that for Eddie. He felt untethered. Unmoored, lost. He needed to be doing something, but he couldn’t and there was nothing even close to that something to fill the gap not doing it left behind.

He didn’t even get to say goodbye. Barely caught a glimpse of the Omega as he was guided through the barren halls toward the exit, dressed in clothes that’d no doubt be uncomfortable, itchy, scratchy on his sensitive skin, his head down never once looking up, never once looking his way.

The halls had been cleared of staff for Eddie’s safety. He still smelled like an Omega in heat.

It shouldn’t have happened like that. Eddie should have still been in his room, should have been able to wake up peacefully in his nest, should have woken up to a warm, comforting embrace, but instead it’d been panic. Fear, and confusion and Steve didn’t even know if it’d been avoidable.

Maybe if another alpha had been there, maybe if it wasn’t him. Maybe everything would have progressed as it normally should have.

“Go home Steve” Owens placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, voice so soft Steve barely caught it. “You should uh… take some time off, okay?” Steve barely managed to tear his gaze away from the doors Eddie had walked through, but when he did it was with eyes full of unspoken panic. “You’re not in trouble, Steve. We kept watch all night you… you’re an exemplary Alpha, truly a credit to your kind… your self-restraint is… well, I wouldn’t have believed it had I not seen it for myself, but I think it's best if you still take some time off. Use some of those holiday days you’ve built up, paid, of course, I think two weeks should cover it.”

“But—”

Owens held up his hand to silence him, before turning to Robin, who’d been doing her best to keep Steve grounded with her presence alone. It worked. Kind of. He wasn’t stinking up the hallway, but that could have probably been due to the patch covering his scent glands rather than anything she was doing. “Miss Buckley, take him home would you?”

“I uh… I can’t drive but—but sure, yeah, I’ll uhm, I’ll get him home. Should I come right back, orr—”

“Take the rest of the day. You’ve earned it.” She hadn't actually gone home much like Owens, so technically she'd have been due to start a new shift in around half an hour, but... alright.

And then he was gone, walking back into his office, and closing the door behind him, leaving both Robin and Steve alone in the hallway, none-the-wiser about what he was going to be getting up to in there, but neither having enough energy to really care.

“I told him after his heat we could… that we could—” be together, that all Eddie had to do was wait one more day, one more. And they could be together, that it’d be okay then… “I promised him, Robbie…”

“I know, Stevie… let’s just get you home.”

"...Okay." As if he had any other choice.

Part 18

#PirateWrites #NestFiclet #Steddie #CW: A/B/O #No Upside Down AU #Omegaverse #Omega!Eddie Munson #Alpha!Steve Harrington #ehe

[normansnt]

Could I request a third part of the prince? I love it!

YES OMG YOU ARE MY FIRST REQUEST HIIII THANK YOU SM IM HAPPY YOU LIKE IT🧡🧡

Yeah I might have forgot to mention I do in fact take requests😎

Actually ya'll have been loving the prince series and I was wondering if you want me to making it into like a full blown story like following the series events and what not, or like just a little series of cute scenarios?

Let me know.

Warnings:

The prince (part 3)

(Alastor x male reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Currently you were arguing with your father. Since the moment he found out you are dating Alastor he was not happy, to say the least.

"Why the sudden urge to leave? Is it not good here anymore because I can clean up the rubber ducks-"

"No dad thats not the point I just think I'm old enough to move out and Charlie has her hotel with a lot of rooms, and I mean I guess her dream is not that impossible-"

"Yeah right, like I'm going to believe that you just want to move in with that bambi of yours" he scoffed

"Dont call him- thats not- ok fine yeah, I want to move in with Alastor why is that such a problem I am a grown ass adult I can do as I please." And with that you left the room to pack.

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

"I swear, he still thinks I am a kid." You were pacing in Alastor's room while he was sitting on a couch and calmly drinking tea.

"He let Charlie go?? Why not me why cant I do what I want with my life" you continued your angry ranting while unpacking you clothes.

At this point you were basically moved in with Alastor. You had all your stuff there you just needed to unpack, which he solved with a flick of his wrist. You could have done that too, but your father raised both you and your sister to not be careless with the amount of power you have, also you were busy rambling.

"*sigh*...thank you honey." You said quietly as you took a seat next to him slumping into the couch.

Alastor looked at you. Till now he was just half listening to you ramble and he thought you would feel better once you let it out and you two could cuddle but right now you looked even more sad, defeated even.

This did not sit right with him. If there was anything he hated most was seeing you sad or hurt.

He took a hold of your hand and put his other one on your cheek to guide your head to look at him.

"My dear, this issue will be resolved just as any other, you will make up with your father." He reassured you with a smile.

"I know but than it will start again, and I'm starting to feel like he will never accept you even though you are so important to me and... it's just too much right now, I'm sorry I need to be alone." And with that you left.

There it was again. That stinging feeling in his chest. Alastor had to take matters into his own hands.

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

You walked down the stairs and took a seat by the bar.

"Damn kid, rough day?" Asked Husk as you put your head into your hands and groaned.

"Thats one way to put it, can you please get me a whisky on the rocks" you said in your ever so kind voice.

Husk liked you. On contrary to your father and older sister you were calm, quiet and well spoken. All this while still having the heart of gold they have as well.

He never understood how a charming young man such as yourself would find himself in a relationship with a demon like Alastor.

During your numerous visits to the Hotel you have talked to Husk a lot and you two became really good friends. The same went for Angel who usually joined you guys. You three usually sat by the bar chatting for hours.

"Hi (Y/N)," you heard Angels voice approaching as you sipped on your whisky. He took a seat next to you and shared a quick kiss with Husk. You chuckled to yourself quietly, you have been rooting for the two from the very beginning and when they finally got together you were so happy you shedded a few tears.

"Hi Angel" you gave him a small smile but he saw through it.

"Aww, toots hard times?" He asked as Husk handed him his drink.

"It's a long story" you answered.

"We got time" said Husk encouragingly.

You smiled a little than started telling the story.

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

Alastor was on his way to find Charlie. He needed to solve the situation or he had to gauge his own eyes out so he doesn't have to see you sad.

He figured if he got your father to come to the hotel you can talk things out. As well as, he is going to try and make an effort not to be a complete ass with him but Lucifer has to try and be nice as well, for your sake.

He needed Charlie for this because if Alastor asked Lucifer to come he would not. However if Charlie asked, he'd be there in a second.

"Oh Charlie?" He wondered into the princess's room.

"Yes? OH Alastor HI how is my brother doing?" She asked with excitement. She was more than thrilled that her little brother is going to move into her hotel.

"Not so well I'm afraid I acquire your assistance to make him feel better"

"What? Whats the problem is he ok? Did you hurt him? Alastor I do not care how helpful you are around here if you hurt my little brother-" Her eyes started glowing red as her hair was swept into the air and her horns started to show.

Before this could go any further Alastor cut her off.

"My dear, rest assured I would kill hell's entire population and my self before causing any harm to your darling brother." He said calmly.

"Oh, then whats the problem?" Asked Charlie now calm.

And so Alastor explained everything to Charlie.

When Alastor and Charlie knocked on her father's door there was no answer. They looked at one another and Charlie checked if it was open. It was, so they could go in without problems.

"Hello? Dad?" Yelled Charlie as her voice echoed in the huge mansion.

"YOU, It's your fault you took them away from me" they heard as they looked to their right.

In seconds Alastor was tackled to the floor with a very angry Lucifer on top.

When Charlie registered what she was seeing she started to pull her father off of the Radio demon to almost no avail. The devil wouldn't budge.

"YOU TOOK BOTH OF MY CHILDREN AWAY FROM ME ARE YOU HAPPY NOW IS THAT ENOUGH?"

Lucifer was not happy. He was yelling in his demon form wings out and fire spewing from his mouth.

"DAD"

Everyone stopped. You were standing in the door looking at the scene before you, baffled.

You rarely raised your voice, so to hear it this loud and clear shocked most people in the room.

You cleared your throat. And said in your normal calm voice again.

"Can we talk in private."

Lucifer calmed down and followed you into the room you left to.

When he entered the room to his surprise, you hugged him.

"Listen dad, I understand that both of your kids growing up is hard for you, and I'm sorry for leaving you alone but I need my space I'm starting to live my life and its with Alastor because I love him."

You said in a very gentle tone.

Your dad looked at you for some time then hugged you again.

"You really love him, kiddo?" He looked at you with understanding eyes as he let go.

"I do, dad I really do." You answered.

Your dad sighed. He took a hold of your hands.

"All that matters to me is that you are happy. I'm sorry I have been such a jerk about it but...it's so hard to let you kids go, you will always be my babies" He sniffed lightly.

You chuckled at that and squeezed his hands.

"Can you please make an effort to not hate Alastor?" You tried.

He groaned.

"Yeah, yeah I'll see what I can do but he needs to be cooperative"

You walked out of the room.

Charlie stood up with tears in her eyes and hugged you both.

"Oh...the walls are thin here aren't they?" You asked as you looked at your dad.

"Yeaaah, forgot to mention that."

"You guys, I'm so happy you made up are we ok now?" She asked between sniffles.

"Yeah, we are ok" you smiled at your dad.

After your sister let you go from her crushing embrace Alastor walked up to you.

"I- listen no pressure about saying-" he cut you off by swapping you off your feet into a breathtaking kiss.

"I...I love you too, darling" he said quietly, without the radio statics, he said it in his real voice, as he put his forehead on yours.

"OK, see, I promised to be nice but there is no need to rub it in my face" your father said as he dragged you away.

Alastor straightened up and, with the static back in his voice and an eye twitching, he held his hand out to your father.

"I promise to make an effort to not murder you" he smiled eerily at your dad.

Lucifer had a brooding expression on his face but shook the radio demons hand none the less.

"Thank you." You said at last as you hugged both of them. They hugged you back. While glaring at each other behind your back.

Sure they are gonna make an effort. When you're looking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TADA

I really hope you like it again thank you for the request.

Also please let me know if y'all want any of what I mentioned in the beginning.

When Alastor's staff broke and he started talking w/o the statics I was ON MY KNEES.

I WANNA THANK EVERY SINGLE ON OF YOU WHO LIKE MY STORIES THEY HAVE RECEIVED A LOT OF LOVE AND IM THANKFUL BEYOND IMAGINATION THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU💗💗

OK LOVE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY/NIGHT/MORNING WHATEVER MWUAH💋

#male reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #male y/n #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x male reader #hazbin alastor

[razieltwelve]

Sacrifice (Final Effect)

"We’re going to die,” Jasper murmured. “I can’t believe it. We’re going to die out here.”

His ship had suffered catastrophic levels of damage after an encounter with Grimm. The hull had more than a dozen major breaches, the air supply was basically non-existent, and the ship no longer had the ability move under its own power. He’d managed to get a distress signal out, but there was no guarantee it had been received before his comms had been destroyed. And even if it had been... he was in the middle of nowhere. He’d be dead long before anyone arrived to rescue him.

And he wouldn’t be the only one either.

His son was with him. His wife had passed away a few months ago during a Grimm attack on the mining colony where they lived. That was why he was in space to begin with. He’d finally managed to secure citizenship in the Empire. He and his son were going to start again somewhere safer. But the Grimm had caught his ship on its way to the nearest Hyperspace Gateway. And now they were both going to die here.

A quiet voice in the back of his mind cut through the growing panic.

“Jasper, I can keep you alive for forty-eight hours.” The words came from Steel-Shadow-Beneath-the-Waves, a member of the Company. 

Years ago, Jasper’s parents had agreed to let members of the Company bond to them. The symbiotic energy beings had made them stronger, faster, and more durable. Jasper had agreed too, and Steel had been chosen for him. Steel had become his best friend, a constant companion who had never left him and had always given him good advice. In exchange, all Steel wanted was to feed off his Aura, a slow, consistent drain that had never been harmful.

“There’s nothing you can do for the ship?” Jasper asked.

“No.” Steel’s voice was calm. “Even if I knew how to fix the ship, we wouldn’t have all the parts required to fix it.” The Company sighed. “We’re missing more than half the ship, Jasper. It’s a miracle we’re not already dead.”

“Forty-eight hours...” Jasper bit his lip, a mad, desperate plan coming to mind. “The lack of air won’t be a problem?”

“Using the Aura I’ve saved up, I can substitute Aura for air once the ship’s air has run out. However, forty-eight hours is the most I can manage. I have no idea if that will be long enough.”

“And what happens after that?” Jasper asked.

“You die. And then I die, having expended all of my energy to keep you alive.” Steel paused. “I could abandon you and seek to prolong my existence, but that was not the agreement we made.”

Jasper’s lips twitched. “No. We made a promise, didn’t we? You and me, together to the end, no matter what.”

“Correct. Besides, I doubt I’d live long after you passed. I’ve grown used to being bonded. Members of my species who have bonded rarely survive more than a day or two without bonding again.” Steel radiated sad amusement. “It seems I’ll be keeping our promise.”

Jasper took a deep breath. “What if... what if you didn’t?”

“What?”

“If I asked you to bond with my son... to... to bond with Onyx... how long would you be able to keep him alive?”

Steel paused. It was a long, long pause. “Infants require less Aura to survive and consume less air than adults. Based on the amount of Aura I have saved up, I could keep him alive for roughly ninety-six hours.”

“Four days, huh?” Jasper took a deep breath... one of the last he would ever take. “I want you do to it. Break our bond and bond with my son.”

Steel paused again. “Jasper, if I do that, you will die. We will run out air in approximately an hour, and you will be lucky to survive fifteen minutes once that occurs. You are asking me to kill you.”

“So that my son can live.”

“That wasn’t our agreement, Jasper. I would be breaking my promise.”

Jasper reached out through the bond between them. Members of the Company were highly logical, their every action geared toward helping their host - and therefore themselves - survive and thrive. Steel had argued against Jasper becoming a miner, but he had eventually conceded the issue after seeing how much Jasper loved it. He needed Steel to understand. He needed him to see.

“Sometimes, we have to break our promises,” Jasper said. “So I’m asking you... I’m begging you. Please, if we’ve ever been friends, save my son.”

“There is no guarantee this would even save him. We are in a remote part of space, and we have no way of knowing if our distress signal even got out before our comms were destroyed. Even if it was heard, it might take longer than four days for help to arrive. You would be sentencing yourself to death for no reason.”

“I know the odds aren’t good,” Jasper replied. “But if I can make them even a little bit better for my son... please. Steel, I need you to do this for me.”

There was another pause, the longest yet.

Finally, Steel spoke again. “Jasper, I’m going to miss you very much.”

There was a sudden, sharp stab of agony, like a limb being cut off. Jasper screamed without realising it and slumped down beside the cot his son was in. An amorphous shape drifted away from him and over his son. It was Steel’s energy form, and this was the first time he’d seen it since they’d bonded.

Slowly, tenuously, arms formed and reached out toward him. For a moment, just one, Steel hugged him, and then Steel was flowing through the air toward Onyx. His son’s cries stopped as the bond began to form, and a look of wonder formed on the infant’s face as the member of the Company began to join himself to him in earnest.

“Thanks,” Jasper murmured. “For everything.”

He stayed by Onyx’s cot as the air grew thinner and thinner. As he took his last real breath, he reached out for something, anything to help him through the agony of his final moments. His hands tightened around the cot’s frame, and his son’s eyes - Steel’s eyes - met his.

Through the last, broken remnants of the link between them, Steel filled his dying mind with memories.

They were back on the beach with his parents, and the sun was so warm. Waves lapped against the shore, and the sand between his toes was wet and grainy. He ran into the water, laughing, as Steel warned him to stay within easy reach of his parents.

Overhead, a seagull let loose a cry, and Jasper dipped beneath the waves, a school of fish parting as he dove...

Jasper died with a smile on his lips.

X     X     X

The Imperial trooper stepped into the battered ship. The marks of battle were all over it, and more than half of it was just gone. From the looks of it, the ship must have run into Grimm. It had taken them four days to reach the ship. He doubted anything could have survived. Their corvette’s scanners had already noted the lack of life support systems and the absence of any air inside the ship.

Yet to his disbelief, his sensors were picking up a very, very, very faint Aura signature. He gestured to his squamates.

“We’ve got Aura. Cover me.”

He moved swiftly through the ship, his companions sweeping the wreck for any signs of Grimm. They found none. The trooper activated his emergency life support pack and broke open the door to the bridge.

There, in a cot, was a baby.

“How in the...” He swiftly activated the life support pack, and a forcefield wrapped around the child as fresh air was supplied. His gaze shifted to the body beside the cot. The father? Probably. But how had the baby survived?

“He asked me to.” The voice was a sibilant hiss. “He told me to save his son.”

“Who are you?” The trooper activated his advanced sensors. Information flowed through him. “You’re... one of the Company?”

A hazy, indistinct shape, visible only through his advanced Aura sensors appeared. The voice came again, barely audible, and his power armour isolated the channel and amplified it, so he could hear.

“Yes. Jasper was my partner. When it became clear what would happen, he asked me to bond with his son, Onyx. There was no guarantee it would let him live long enough for help to come - we didn’t even know if help would come - but he wanted me to do it. Even if it meant he would die, he wanted his son to live.”

“Shit.” The trooper’s jaw clenched. “Fuck.” A man like that? He should still be alive, not dead. He took a deep breath. “All right then. We’ll get... we’ll get Jasper out of here and give him a proper burial. And you and Onyx, we’ll get you out of here and looked after. Did Jasper have any kin?”

X     X     X

Onyx ran along the beach. His grandparents shouted for him to be careful, so he slowed down a bit, content to watch the crabs scuttle along the sand and into the water.

“Hey...” he murmured. “Steel, you knew my dad, right?”

His grandparents had always told Onyx that his dad died a hero, but he saw how sad it made them to talk about him. He loved them, so he didn’t want them to be sad. But he wanted to know more about his dad.

“I did,” Steel replied, his voice as calm as ever in the back of Onyx’s mind. “I knew him very well.”

“Can you tell me about him?”

“Gladly.”

#final effect #fanfiction

[pregnantsecondo]

random bushmed idea

Medic walks in on Sniper playing with his doves and talking to them in a baby voice

Medic thinks it's adorable and Sniper is mildly embarrassed

that is all, hammy out

Ok gonna write it.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Sniper hated sneaking around, especially a round Medic. He figured that there was a good amount of trust between them, and even though it was for a perfectly normal reason, he still felt like he was betraying him, in some weird way.

If Sniper had his way, he wouldn't even be sneaking around at all but...

Well, he had to make a good impression on Medic's birds.

It was stupid, he thought, nearly every time he snuck into the room where Medic put their coop. He was a grown adult, and here he was, trying to win over a bunch of pretty little doves only so their owner might like him more.

That wasn't entirely true, though. It started off as that in the beginning, but now Sniper really saw why Medic loved the little things. They were cute, and if you were the right person, they were very sweet.

Around his third trip, they would even land on his shoulders and give him what he called "kisses". Really it was just small little pecks, but Sniper thought it was sweet.

He had even taken to giving them little nicknames. He knew who Archimedes was, nearly everyone on the base did, but the other ones he wasn't so sure about.

He'd call them all sorts of sweet names. Love, sweetheart, doll, you name it. Around his fifth trip, they had even taken to coming when he called, and wasn't that an improvement?

One night, when Sniper knew that Medic would be occupied elsewhere, he snuck in again, for the final time (though he did not know it would be his final time).

There wasn't any sort of plan really, he just wanted to pop in before he went to bed and say goodnight. He'd been lacking on visits since he and Medic spent more time together.

The doves seemed to love his sudden visit! As soon as he opened the door, they all broke out into sweet coos and flew to greet Sniper at the door.

"Hang on, now." He said softly, so as not to wake any birds that may be sleeping.

Archimedes watched down from the largest perch, and cooed loudly, as if to ask Sniper what had taken him so long.

"I know, I know." He said, scratching the head of a dove he liked to call Sweet Pea, "I'm sorry I left you all so long."

A few flew to rest atop his hat, and Sniper chuckled. He'd be lucky if all they got on him was a few feathers.

"Aw, don't be so glum, I'm here now."

He walked around the coop to greet every bird, handing out treats that he had bought the last time they were allowed to go to the store. They all seemed to like it, which made Sniper very happy.

After an hour of petting the birds and talking to them, Sniper knew he had to leave. He had already spent forty extra minutes with them, and he didn't know when Medic would be back.

"I'm sorry, little ones." He said, putting a young dove he had called Pumpkin back into her spot in the coop, "I don't want to leave, but I have to.."

They all stared up at him with black beady eyes that seemed to bed him to stay.

This was the hardest part, Sniper decided.

"I gotta go, darlings." He said sadly, giving Archimedes his last treat, "Be good while I'm gone, okay?" Some cooed in response, and Sniper took this chance to leave.

He turned away, ready to sulk back to his van, when suddenly he came face to face with Medic.

"Hello, Sniper." He said, grinning from ear to ear.

Sniper felt his face heat up, and he began stammering, trying to explain why he was there.

Medic chuckled, stopping Sniper in his tracks.

"You cannot possibly believe that I would be upset at you?"

"But...I went behind your back, and-"

"What you have been doing is visiting my birds, talking to them in a high voice and giving them treats and pets and your time. I don't see why this is an issue."

"I haven't been baby talking them!" Sniper argued, though he had been just a second ago.

"Well, isn't this adorable! You're flustered because I caught you being sweet on my precious pets." Medic reached up and plucked a few fallen feathers from Sniper's hat, before reaching to cup Sniper's face.

"It's very cute, how you care for them. I like this soft side of you." He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Sniper's, before retreating and stepping around him to greet his birds.

Sniper soundlessly watched as Medic set out food and water for them, cleaning their coop as he went along.

After a minute or so, Medic turned around, eyebrow raised and his hands on his hip, "Well? Are you going to help or just watch?"

This spurred Sniper into action, and together, they got the doves' home cleaned for the next day.

#asks #hamuletta #mutual my dearly beloved #bush medicine #my writing #lol

[platoniclokiimagines]

how about taking loki to meet disneyland loki😼

A/N: Hello again, friends! This one was really fun to write because I got to show off my obnoxious amount of Disney/Disneyland knowledge. And the idea of Loki meeting Loki is just Hilarious, let’s be real.

WC: 1413

Rating: G

TW: None

“I can’t believe you dragged me all the way to California for this.”

You tried to ignore the sarcastic edge to Loki’s voice as you dragged them down Buena Vista Street, smiling as you looked at all the other families and children running around with shopping bags and Mickey balloons.

“Oh, come on. You thought I wasn’t going to jump on the opportunity to come visit you at Disneyland?”

Loki scowled, and glanced at you as though you had a grown a second head. “You literally live with me, Y/N. What could this doppelganger of me possibly have that I don’t?”

You shrugged as you continued to pull them along with your arm linked through theirs. “A sense of fun, for starters.”

“I deeply apologize that my sense of fun doesn’t include looking at a paid actor that portrays me, likely completely wrong.”

Your jaw dropped in an exaggerated show of offense. “Loki! Don’t ruin the Disney Magic(™)!  That guy is Loki!”

Loki rolled their eyes so hard you worried they might fall from their sockets. “If I get recognized out here, you’re explaining it to Stark.”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. So do you wanna cut to Avengers Campus by Carsland or turn here by Carthay Circle?”

“Y/N, if it were up to me, we’d be on the next plane back to New York.”

“Carsland it is.”

It was your first time being back at California Adventure since Avengers Campus had opened, so it took you a bit of confused navigating before you finally found yourself at the new entrance to the area, and a part of you had to laugh at how… fake it all looked.

“I know it’s a theme park, and they’re working with what they’ve got, but this is… sad.” You spoke in a lowered voice, so only Loki could hear you as you walked past some of the buildings.

“Yeah, I mean look at their Quinjet. It doesn’t even fly.”

You pointedly ignored the dramatics Loki was pouring into their tone, and continued to look around. “The very idea that they gave Pete- er… Spider-Man a whole entire ride before, I don’t know, the rest of the Avengers who literally saved the world countless times.”

“I mean, the Spiderling did, too,” Loki pointed out. “He’s just more marketable.”

“Because he’s a kid.”

“You’re a kid.”

“Everyone’s a kid at Disneyland, Loki, catch up.”

For what had to have been the hundredth time since you’d scanned in to the park, Loki rolled their eyes, and you grinned smugly as you looked back out at the crowds standing around the area. There were kids of all ages, and adults, as well, decked out in more Avengers merchandise than you even knew existed. Baseball caps, t-shirts, matching backpacks. You even saw some people carrying around what looked to be little robotic spiders in carriers.

“Oh, we’re getting one of those,” you declared, immediately looking down at your map to find out where you could get them.

“Y/N, stay focused on the task at hand, would you? The longer we’re here, the more likely we are to be spotted. And I’m not exactly America’s sweetheart over here.”

You frowned and looked over at them. “Hey, you’ve made lots of progress with the team. Lots of people know you’re not a bad guy anymore.”

“Yes, well, people hold grudges.”

You couldn’t argue with that, so instead, you only sighed and folded your map back up. “Fine. I think Loki meets over by that building over there, with the Quinjet.”

“Don’t call him Loki, I’m Loki.”

“You’re both Loki, and that’s that on that.”

Loki said nothing to that, likely done with your antics by this point, so you took the cue to stop talking, and instead headed over to where you could already see a crowd formed, many of them wearing clothes themed toward the God of Mischief themself.

As you took your place in line, you nudged Loki’s arm with yours, nodding toward the line in front of you. “Look, you’ve got a cult following. And so much merch. I wonder if I can find those Mickey ears somewhere around here. Or do you reckon they’re from Etsy? Quality’s too good for Disney, it’s gotta be Etsy.”

Loki glanced up boredly at the people around you, and nodded disinterestedly, and you heaved a sigh. “Look, meet and greets are, like, less than a minute long, the line’s maybe… thirty minutes at the most. So. Thirty-one minutes and then we grab a Mickey bar and blow it. Okay?”

You held your pinky out, knowing Loki would never not pinky pact with you (it was, and you knew they’d never say it out loud, a treasured and sacred act between the two of you), and you grinned when they heaved an overly dramatic sigh and linked your pinkies together.

“Fine. But no pictures.”

“What about just me and Other Loki?”

“…fine.”

Your time waiting in line went by quicker than you thought it would, and before you knew it, the group in front of you was saying goodbye to the Other Loki, and it was your turn to go up to meet him.

“Why am I nervous?” you muttered, waiting for the cast member to wave you over.

“You’re not chickening out now. We have been waiting for thirty minutes,” Loki hissed, pushing you forward as soon as the cast member waved at you. “Go on.” They tried to step away so you could go meet the Other Loki yourself, but you gripped their forearm tightly.

“Nope, you, too. You promised.”

Loki opened their mouth to argue, but was cut off by the Other Loki.

“Ah, I see you have an eye for a good color scheme,” he said, gesturing to Loki’s clothes, which, though not their armor, was still the usual greens and golds and blacks they were known for.

Part of you expected that Loki wouldn’t want any part of playing along, but the ego boost must have been enough to win them over. “Well, if you can’t be royalty, dress like royalty, am I right?”

The Other Loki laughed, a sound far too loud for anything Loki would actually make. “Right you are, my friend.” He turned to look at you, then, and you grinned. “Now, what brings you to Campus today, training to be recruits?”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you. “Something like that. But mostly we wanted to meet you in person. We’ve heard a lot about you.” You and Loki shared an amused look as the Other Loki puffed his chest.

“All good things, I hope. And if they aren’t, you’ll have to let me know who said them. Was it Thor? I bet it was Thor.”

Well, you had to admit he was playing the brotherly relationship right.

“All good things, I assure you,” Loki replied, and the Other Loki nodded once.

“Good. Now listen, if you see Thor today, and he tells you something bad about me, tell him I’ll turn him into a frog again. Can you do that for me?”

You had to laugh again. He was really selling it. “Of course. We can’t have him spreading rumors about you.”

Loki nodded in agreement, and the Other Loki gave a charming smile.

“Shall we pose for a photograph before I send you on your mission, friends?”

You glanced at Loki, giving the best, quickest puppy dog eyes you could manage in hopes of getting them to stay in the picture with you, and when they heaved a small sigh and turned to face the camera, you beamed, and gave your best Loki pose as the camera flashed.

“Alright, my friends, I wish you luck on your mission. Good day!”

You waved goodbye to the Other Loki, and thanked the cast member for your picture before exiting the meet and greet area, turning back to look at Loki as soon as you were a fair distance away.

“Tell me I don’t speak like that,” Loki whined, looking distressed at the very idea.

“I mean… kinda…?” you admitted. “But the laugh was all wrong. Too loud and boisterous.”

“Right? I mean, come on!”

“He did carry himself like you do, though.”

Loki narrowed their eyes. “Are you calling me a priss?”

You grinned. “Maaaaybe.”

“…you owe me two Mickey bars for that.”

“…one and a souvenir t-shirt?”

“……..only if I get to pick which one.”

You grinned at your success.

“Deal.”

#Loki imagine #platonic Loki imagine #Loki #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki x reader #platonic!Loki x reader #fluff #silly #this was So fun to write #anonymous #ask #answered #thank you for the ask!

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (10)

--

(technoblade x fem!reader)

--

(a/n: y’all seemed to like chapter 9 so here’s chapter 10! I know, I know. still no technoblade! BUT! he WILL be arriving soon~ very soon. >:3c but for now just enjoy the rest of the utter nonsense that’s the election. and remember! reblogs and comments REALLY make writing the next chapter possible. if y’all lose interest then so will I. so reblog and comment y’all! <3)

--

There was an eerie silence hanging over everyone in attendance. Nobody quite knew what to say, or even how to react to this startling new information. Not a soul spoke as a few people on stage and in the audience shared confused glances, not even whispering their questions to each other lest they shatter the heavy stillness. At least that was the case before HBomb hopped up out of his chair and gave a loud and cheerful “WHOO! NEW PRESIDENT!” that successfully slam dunked everyone back into the moment at hand. 

Suddenly you were surrounded by noise as everyone started talking at once. 

Meanwhile you remained mostly unaware of it, well more like distantly aware of it.

You stared up at the stage, locked in place from how floored you still were.

What in the absolute hell was Wilbur talking about?? 

You can’t have won! Because you weren’t running! 

So there’s no way for you to WIN something you were never actively competing for! 

There had to be a mistake. Maybe this was just some more of their silly pranks and japes before they read off the real winner, which actually wasn’t that huge of a stretch for this SMP if you were being honest. Or at least that’s what you were telling yourself anyways. Vaguely you could hear voices talking all around you, but it seemed far away, so you weren’t really registering what was being said. You were mostly just staring blankly at the stage, not really seeing any of the people up there as you tried to process what just happened.

It took Tubbo grabbing your elbow and shaking it to snap you out of the almost trance like state you'd slipped into. You looked down and he actually looked excited, but you could also see shock in his expression as well. You looked behind you to the rest of the crowd and some were clapping and cheering while others stood silent, shocked like you if you had to hazard a guess. You looked back up at the stage when you heard Tommy calling you to come up with them. You were still sorta frozen but thankfully Tubbo nudged you forward, reminding you that you needed to move. Silently you made your way up to the podium, mouth feeling dry and stomach feeling like it was full of stones.

Now that you were zoned back in you could hear the arguing coming from the podium. You were sort of dreading coming face to face with Wilbur, already knowing how… not great he took Schlatt winning from the original timeline. And he apparently knew and was friends with the ram hybrid. So you couldn’t see him being happy you won.. But when you got to the stage where the others were you couldn’t focus on Wilbur because all at once your vision was overtaken by Tommy, who was babbling about how you won! And how the hell did you win?? You weren’t even running! And how he’s pretty down they lost but at least Quackity and George didn’t win! (that got a ‘fuck you!’ out of the Spanish speaking young man) You gave a weak chuckle and said you’re not sure how or why you won but it was crazy indeed. 

Quackity, Schlatt, and George were the most vocal about not thinking the results were fair. Though to be clear, Wilbur didn’t look thrilled either, but he was doing his best to look professional or put together you guessed. Or at least not blow up in front of literally everyone. You kept an eye on him while Tommy led you up to the mic and told you to give your first decree as president. But you sorta… didn’t want to be president. You hoped you wouldn’t upset anyone by not accepting the job. But you didn’t think you’d make a good leader. So you turned away from the mic, hoping nobody but the ones beside you on stage would hear when you asked if you had to accept the role. 

This caught all the mens’ attention and Wilbur was quick to give you an out, saying no you didn’t technically HAVE to accept the presidency. In fact if you weren’t ready or willing to fill the role then the runners up, aka him and Tommy, would happily do so for you. But then Quackity, Schlatt, and surprisingly Fundy said that wasn’t fair either since both Pog2020 and Schlatt/Swag2020 were tied with the amount of votes. And you had to admit, that didn’t seem fair. But Wilbur perked up and you’d swear in that moment he was the embodiment of the ‘lightbulb above head’ phrase. Then he grinned and turned to Fundy and Niki and asked to speak to them before urging them and Tommy off the stage, leaving you and Schlatt/Swag2020 on the stage alone.

Not wanting to leave everyone in the audience hanging, you gave a polite smile and assured them that the others just wanted to…. recount the votes! They weren’t sure Wilbur counted them right so they figured recounting with some other witnesses there would clear things up! The crowd shared confused glances but it was Tubbo who yelled out that that sounded sus as hell! And if he were you he’d think they were trying to cheat or something! You snorted a laugh but assured him it was alright and you didn’t think they’d be that ballsy~

-0-

Fundy and Niki followed behind Wilbur and Tommy, the latter of the two males just as confused about what Wilbur was up to as the pair behind him. But then they all gathered in the white house and Wilbur turned to the members of Coconut2020 and said he had a proposition for them! The brunet said that since it was clear that you weren’t really up to being president, his tone derisive like your refusal of the position was tantamount to spitting in his food, then if Fundy and Niki agreed to combine their votes with Swag2020 then Wilbur could be president again and things could go back to normal!

But the blonde woman and fox hybrid didn’t look convinced.. Niki said they’d just be giving them their votes so they could win, while they got nothing? Fundy frowned and asked what positions he and Niki would have in the Pog2020 cabinet if they joined their votes with theirs. Here is where Wilbur hesitated, unsure what positions he could give them. But then he smiled and said Niki would be the First Woman, since she was the first woman to join L’manberg! And Fundy would of course be everyone’s Little Champion! He couldn’t help but baby talk his son, he’d never been able to take Fundy seriously, not really anyways. What with his alert little triangle ears, furry face, soft little paw beans, and fluffy tail. He was just too cute for Wilbur to take him seriously. Even now. But it was this attitude that would be his downfall. Because it’s what caused Fundy to snap.

“No, Wilbur! This is serious! I’m not some baby for you to dress up and prance around! I’m a fucking adult! I have my own house, I pay taxes, I fought in a war for fucks sake!” the hybrid shouted, clearly upset.

Wilbur was shocked but tried to calm Fundy down, not fully realizing how mad his son was until the red haired male practically snarled, 

“I’m not going to sit here and hand over the votes Niki and I earned just so you can treat me like a child!”

Without another word he turned on his heel and stormed out of the white house, leaving three stunned people behind. Tommy looked up at Wilbur, opening and closing his mouth, wanting so badly to say something, maybe lighten the awkward mood but not knowing what or even if he should speak at all. Meanwhile Niki just sighed and gave Wilbur a soft disappointed look. She knew Wilbur loved his son, and that often translated to him babying the hybrid. But she’d warned him, as kindly as she could, that it seemed to upset Fundy that his own father wouldn’t treat him like anything but a kid. She’s not a parent herself, so she figures it must be hard for a parent to see their child as anything but a child, even after they’ve grown. 

But she can see Fundy’s side too. It must be massively frustrating to be looked upon like you’re just a kid. Especially since Wilbur doesn’t even treat Tommy, his own younger brother, as a child as much as he does Fundy. And she’d seen first hand how Wilbur’s attitude towards Fundy, whether or not the brunet intended for it to happen or not, did in fact influence how others treated the red furred hybrid. She’d seen Tommy, Tubbo, Eret, Sapnap, and even herself a couple times sort of not treat Fundy with the respect you’d show to a fellow adult. She tried her best to kick that habit, and her and Fundy’s friendship had really blossomed thanks to it, she thinks. But she believes Wilbur just pushed his son to his breaking point…

“He’s right, Wilbur. You can’t keep babying him. He’s a grown up now..” Niki said neutrally.

Then she let out a tired sounding breath of air and turned to follow after the fox hybrid, saying she would go check on him. But she also said Wilbur needed to talk to him later, man to man, and make things right. Said brunet looked rather flummoxed, not sure what the hell just happened. It was Tommy who broke the silence by giving an almost weak sounding ‘holy shit’. Wilbur turned his perplexed gaze to his brother and asked what the HELL that was all about! Said blond winced and gave a sigh while awkwardly scratching the back of his head, not thrilled with the weird turn this conversation took, but answered Wilbur,

“Ehh… looks like you and Fundy have some unresolved personal issues, bud..”

Wilbur barked that this wasn’t the time for Fundy to let some personal vendetta against him cloud his reasoning! They were in the middle of the do or die of the election! If they couldn’t get Fundy and Niki to agree to join their votes with theirs then they won’t win! And they’ll be in a tie with Schlatt and Quackity! Wilbur jerked his hands down, like he wanted to slam them against a table or something. But instead he just viciously scrubbed his fingers through his curly hair, feeling embittered with everyone around him. All he’d wanted was to lead HIS country! Like he rightfully should have been able to! All this election bollocks and now he was having to try and convince HIS OWN SON to help him stay president?! If it were him and Phil needed help he’d give it! Well he would if Phil were ever fucking around..

The sound of a crowd cheering caused the two to whip their heads towards the area where the stage was before they looked at each other. Not a word was spoken between them as they both took off in a run towards the stage, wondering what happened and what they were missing. They rounded the corner of the building to the left of the stage to see you smiling and waving daintily to the crowd. Not sure what they’d missed, Wilbur rushed up to Niki and asked what happened. Did you accept the presidency already?? 

Niki raised an eyebrow at her friend and nodded, saying you’d finally relented and accepted the role as president after she and Fundy came back from ‘recounting the votes’. Niki hummed and said she figured that you finally accepted the results after it was made clear that if you didn’t then everything would be stuck in a tie. But then Niki’s reflecting mood brightened and she said she really thought you’d do a good job as the new president. Even joking that you had to be better than Schlatt. 

Niki never voiced it out loud but she’d been worried Schlatt and Quackity would win. Schlatt was the biggest worry for her. To his credit, he was actually a really funny guy and she could see why Wilbur was friends with him, they just had a good chemistry and their senses of humor bounced off each other well. But… Schlatt could also be blatantly power hungry and hateful if not kept in check from the few times she’d met him or heard stories about him from Wilbur. Niki felt like giving him the amount of authority that came with being president would only end poorly. And Quackity was an alright guy in her opinion but he could be vindictive and petty too. She got the vibe that any amount of power given to him would instantly go to his head and turn him into a jerk.

But again, these were just her personal (and not spoken aloud) opinions…

She always hated being mean to people and saying hurtful things. So she kept her opinions to herself more often than not. Unless it was super important anyways. So instead of elaborating on Why she was so relieved that Schlatt and Quackity hadn’t won she instead flashed the two members of Pog2020 a smile and said it had been a fun race, and despite all the drama she really thinks Tommy’s friend will do a good job. Then with a keen raise of her eyebrows the blonde suggested with a cute smile,

“Oh, maybe you could be a member of Reader’s Cabinet! I’m sure she’ll be needing a vice president, secretary of defense, treasury, and other positions!”

Niki was honestly just trying to cheer up her friend, but the cheerful smile slipped off her face at the dark look that crossed Wilbur’s. She grew concerned when she saw how hard he was clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. His behavior over the last few weeks had been slowly worrying her, but this was starting to make her anxious. And when he started marching towards the stage she shot a panicked look to Tommy, who could do nothing but give her an equally worried and confused face before they both tried to hurry after their brown haired friend. But he got up onto the stage before either of them could grab his arm, and Niki was about to call after him but he reached your side, clearing his throat and alerting you to his presence. 

You looked down and saw him standing at attention next to you, hand outstretched for a handshake and a polite but serious smile on his face. You were surprised, thinking he was handling this with more grace than you’d expected, but a feeling deep in your gut was still on edge. You knew the destruction Wilbur Soot was all too willing and capable of doing in the selfish pursuit of keeping power over the country he made. The lives of his friends and family be damned. So while you really really wanted to hope that Wilbur will be better since you won over the other parties… you’re also highly skeptical that he will manage to keep his sanity. 

But instead of showing any of your reservations you instead simply smile and shake his hand, thanking him for congratulating your win and promising him you’ll do your best with the presidency and taking care of L’manberg. And if you noticed how his smile looked a little too angry at the edges then you didn’t say anything..

So instead of dealing with the mess that was Wilbur Soot you focused on the crowd and let go of Wilbur’s hand to stand at the sort of comically short podium and spoke out to the people you were now responsible for,

“Well, this all was certainly unexpected..”

Chuckles erupted from the crowd at that, making you feel a bit better about all of this. At least you weren’t the only one to see how wild all of this mess was.

“I’m actually really shocked! I wasn’t intending to run for president but I suppose life has other plans for me. But regardless, I’m honored you’ve all put your faith in me to lead you. I swear to do my absolute best for you and help L’manberg flourish.”

Applause from the crowd made you give a genuine smile. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad?

-0-

In the audience, watching this all unfold behind a mask and tapping his foot, stood the familiar looking figure in a green hood. Hanging around next to him was Sapnap in all his black and white dressed glory. And at some point George had gotten bored with the drama on stage and had left Quackity’s side (not that the duck hybrid had even noticed or cared) and wandered over to stand with his two friends. They watched Wilbur hand over the presidency to you and George made an off hand comment that Wilbur sure didn’t look pleased with losing, a smug laugh in his sleepy tone. Sapnap snickered but stared at you and elbowed his taller friend, asking in a curious tone while subtly gesturing to you,

“Speaking of, why didn’t you tell us you’d let someone new on the server, Dream?”

His friend glanced at him for a second longer than normal before replying with a tense tone to his voice that he hadn’t let her on. That caused both Sapnap and George to jerk their heads up to look at him in visible confusion. While George stammered through a series of ‘what’s’ and ‘wait hold on-’ Sapnap was loudly questioning what the hell he meant. The mask wearing player shushed them both before looking up to see if anyone had heard them or looked over at the twos’ loud exclamations. Thankfully nobody had. So he sighed and led them a bit further away from the crowd and explained that he’d not authorized any new members to the server. and it was true, he hadn’t. But both hybrids still looked confused and George asked, clearly puzzled,

“Well then how did she get on the server?? Nobody else can let people on, right, Dream?”

Sapnap nodded but stopped when their taller friend let out a flat hum before shaking his head ‘no’. That caught the shorter twos’ attention so he elaborated by asking them,

“Who on this server is known to have Creative Mode?”

The two blinked before it dawned on them and they looked even more shocked than before, only now it was coupled with anxiousness. Sapnap harshly whispered to the two, asking why the hell fucking GOD himself would actually let someone onto the server?? DreamXD never bothered with players and stuff, only being rumored to be seen by players if they broke server rules. George added on that this all sounded really weird. And an idea hit him and he couldn’t help but voice it. 

“You don’t think… she’s linked to DreamXD.. do you? Like working for him or something?” he asked a touch nervously.

The other two didn’t say anything, not really knowing what to say to that. Sapnap could only shrug while the tallest of their group remained silent, none of them having any answers to the string of questions they’d just let loose.

They would just have to wait and see it seemed.

-0-

@lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @hufflepuff-demigod @corpiet @beepa99 @anxiousnarwhale @bananaaddictmilkshake @realitycanbeajerk @lostandsouciant @thegeekisheere @sparkling-gayyy

#technoblade x reader #techno x reader #technoblade #dsmp #dream smp #mcyt x reader #c!tommy #c!tubbo #c!wilbur #c!fundy #c!niki #c!quackity #c!schlatt #c!george #c!sapnap #c!dream

[shakey-hands]

please please can we get fukuzawa awkwardly having to tell ranpo he’s dating reader and the two of them start fighting and reader is subjected to it??? 😍😍

haha yeah. first ask that imma answer, let me know if you guys want more. my asks are open for any (except mineta gross) mha, ouran, or bungo characters :)

{this one is gonna be done with she/her pronouns but if you ask for gender neutral or he/him or any other pronouns, i can do it}

---

The clock struck two when Y/N looked at her phone, leg bouncing up and down in a way that always annoyed the people around her. Great. It was thirty minutes past their meeting time and her boyfriend still had not shown up with what she understood was his adopted son.

It had been a good plan. Meet on neutral territory, gas up (what Y/N assumed was) a teenage boy with a sweets addiction, and then break the news. Y/N was not sure why they needed to go through such lengthy troubles to inform her boyfriend’s son that they were dating. He was at least old enough to understand what dating was. And from what she had heard from Kunikida, Fukuzawa’s son had a very prominent dating life of his own. But Y/N trusted her boyfriend, no matter how many times he looked off into the distance with quiet wisdom that felt vague.

Y/N sipped her tea, realizing that caffeine would only worsen her anxiety. It didn’t matter how many times Fukuzawa and Kunikida tried to tell her that the meeting wouldn’t be a big deal and that the son would love her, she wasn’t so sure. He was working at the Armed Detective Agency and was good at what he did. At least those were Kunikida’s words as Y/N and him were quietly reading in the same room as they did on Saturday nights. While Y/N appreciated Kunikida for his straight forward/driven personality, he did not fare well in comforting her.

Which brought her to her boyfriend. His solid, piercing eyes would always soften as she talked about her day over their dinner dates and he would brush the back of his hand on her cheek in the moments they were alone with one another. While Y/N rarely noticed because she herself was too infatuated with him, Fukuzawa cared deeply for her after seven months of dating. Their last hurdle was introducing Y/N to Ranpo. Fukuzawa was not at all worried since Y/N had a knack for making sweets and made people feel as if they were special when she smiled at them. There was never a shortage of praise around her.

Y/N checked her phone again, hoping that an apology text would come through and she would not be left in the dark. That however was proving difficult. Fukuzawa was driving with Ranpo eating cotton candy in the passenger seat. He had to be bribed away from the sweets table Dazai had set up for some ungodly known reason to mess with Atsushi. It was embarrassing how long it took for Kunikida to pry Ranpo’s little grubby hands away from the snacks and then another amount of time for Fukuzawa to get Ranpo to put on his seatbelt.

It made Fukuzawa nervous that he was so late. He knew Y/N would be understanding, it was part of the reason he enjoyed her company so much. Knowing her, she would probably be bouncing her knee and staring down at the table, overthinking things. He, of course, was right.

As Fukuzawa was pulling into the parking lot, he spotted his girlfriend’s car. It was pristine, as always, and had a small cat paw sticker on the back left bumper. He smiled inwardly, realizing that he had been waiting for this. There was a future with Y/N and Fukuzawa couldn’t wait.

Ranpo still had yet to get out of the car, his glasses dangling from his shirt pocket and a light dusting of sugar crystals on his lips. He was pouting, of course. Kunikida did not pack enough snacks for the car ride, meaning Ranpo did not have the mental energy to get out of the car and go into whatever flop coffee shop the president insisted they go into. People were so stupid and Ranpo already just finished a case that was so obvious. The local police really needed to be more useful.

“Get out of the car,” Fukuzawa said, getting more and more agitated.

“No,” Ranpo said.

“Let’s go. I promise there will be sweets inside the shop.”

“So? There were sweets at the agency.”

Fukuzawa rolled his eyes, knowing Ranpo would sit in the car out of stubbornness. “Ranpo-”

“Yukichi?” A soft voice called out from the entrance of the cafe.

Fukuzawa turned to see Y/N standing right outside. She had a to-go cup of something hot in her hands, jacket sleeves pulled over her hands to stop the warmth from burning her skin. Even though it was overcast and windy, Y/N still seemed to have a certain glow about her that always took Fukuzawa’s breath away. She waved timidly, not knowing why he was awkwardly standing behind his parked car with a weird defensive stance. He nodded over to her, giving her a genuine smile before turning his head back to the car and glaring.

“Is everything okay?”

Y/N began to approach her boyfriend. The only other time she had seen her boyfriend have this stance was when she had bumped into some eyebrowless pale emo kid in an accident at the mall. Fukuzawa seemed to pick the weird fights, but she just smiled through it. His eyes held a certain annoyance the Y/N had not seen before. Her eyebrows furrowed as she took a step off the curb. Fukuzawa held out his hand, motioning her to not get closer. Y/N paused, unsure about his demeanor.

“Ranpo, don’t make me ask again.” Fukuzawa’s voice held a bass to it that Y/N had never heard before. She could only assume it was his dad voice that he has never had to use with her.

The window rolled down on the old car for just a crack. “I don’t remember a question being asked.”

The voice was whiny and slightly muffled, as if the speaker had sweets in his mouth. Fukuzawa rolled his eyes and put his hand on the glass. Y/N was slightly shocked by her boyfriend, but decided to let him do his thing. She was not a parent and the closest time she had ever been was when she had a babysitting gig decades ago when she was a teen. While she was interested in a family, she had neither the time nor mental capacity to follow through. So she stepped back onto the curb and took a sip of her tea, relishing in the warmth it provided.

“Ranpo, if you don’t get out of the damned car, there will be no sweets at the agency for a year.”

A clear threat had been made.

The door slammed into the car next to it, causing a dent that Fukuzawa watched form. Out from the passenger seat, a short man with a slight pout crawled out of the car. Definitely not the young teenager Y/N had been expecting. He was only slightly taller than Y/N and wore a cape. In fact, he looked like a full grown adult, maybe only ten years younger than Y/N. Her face said it all, though neither men were looking at her. They just stared one another down before Fukuzawa remembered his loving girlfriend stood awkwardly behind him. He motioned for her to come over.

Ranpo did not look impressed as he looked her up and down. Y/N looked too ordinary to know Fukuzawa in her jeans and plain jacket combo. Her shoes were dirty from all the yard work she had done throughout the years. As she got closer, Ranpo watched closely as Fukuzawa gently touched the small of her back before wrapping his arm around her waist. While Ranpo had never seen the President act like this, he did not care.

“Ranpo, I would like you to meet-”

Ranpo yawned loudly. “She’s way too old for me. Almost to hag status.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. She began to stumble over her words, not knowing how to respond. Fukuzawa’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe that Ranpo would even think he was trying to set them up. Ranpo made a disgusted face.

“No offense lady, but you don’t even look fun. Like all you do is sit in the dark and contemplate the excitement of frostingless yellow cake.”

How do you respond to that?

Y/N looked down, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. She was suddenly thankful for the sudden gust of wind that burned her cheeks, a sign that snow was rolling in. Who insults like that? The little sniffle that Y/N let out set Fukuzawa back into the present instead of the daydream he had slipped into where Ranpo got his ass beat.

“You can’t talk to her like that,” Fukuzawa said sternly. “And she’s not here for you.”

“Obviously. She could never handle the Greatest Detective.”

“No!” Fukuzawa said, tightening his grip on her waist. “I wanted you two to meet because we’ve been dating for a while and I thought it was finally time for you two to meet.”

Ranpo suddenly scoffed dramatically. Once. Twice. Three times. “And here I thought we agreed never to keep secrets! And all this time you’ve been giving your praise to someone else!”

Fukuzawa looked at the small man incredulously. “I’m allowed to date, Ranpo.”

“Not really!” Ranpo exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. Those who were passing by continuously glanced, wondering why they were arguing so loudly in a public space. “How gross is that! You’re like centuries old!”

“Look, I just thought you’d want to be in the know. If I had known you’d throw a tantrum, I would have just waited until after we were married.”

In that moment, Ranpo and Y/N spoke simultaneously:

“Tantrum?!”

“Married!?”

“Oh I’ll show you a tantrum!”

Ranpo pushed the old car to make it move back and forth in its parked place before beginning to punch the glass. There was no real power behind his throws, so there were soft thumps being emitted. Next he started to kick the tires, also without power behind his movements. He truly had transformed into a toddler, making the people walking by walk a little faster. He came off as some random crazy person on the street rather than an acclaimed detective.

Fukuzawa didn’t know where to look until a warm soft hand held his cheek, guiding his eyes towards Y/N’s. She smiled softly, ignoring Ranpo as he began to get physical. Her smile caused a chain reaction in Fukuzawa’s heart, making him resist the urge to get down on one knee at that very instance. He did have the ring adding weight to his pocket. She kissed his forehead, making him awkwardly bend down as she chuckled against his skin.

“You want to marry me?”

Fukuzawa blushed slightly. “In due time, of course.”

She chuckled again and nodded. “Of course.”

“I’m not calling her mom!”

#bungo stray dogs #fukuzawa yukichi #fukuzawa x reader #ranpo

[bakatenshii]

Rapture

Oikawa Tooru x Reader (Haikyuu!!)

word count: 2.8k

TW: 18+, smut, incest, dub/noncon, mild somnophilia

A/N: I started writing this in my notes bcos I wanted to get out a cheeky Oikawa drabble for his birthday, didn’t wanna commit to a proper fic bcos fuck knows I’ve been writing my first ever fic for over a month. Technically this is my first official fic I finished! So much love for my wife @blahkugo for listening to me sob and whine about this & beta-ing it, also to @lookslikeleese who created this brainchild of Tooru-nii with me. 

rap·ture

/ˈrapCHər/

a feeling of intense pleasure or joy.

(according to some millerian teaching) the transporting of believers to heaven at the Second Coming of Christ

Blood is thicker than water, in all forms and shapes and sizes. The guilt of blood lays thicker, sweaty and clammy, threatening to matte his perfectly coiffed hair. The guilt lies limp on his childhood bed, delicate legs dangling just a hair away from toeing the carpet.

You couldn’t reach when you were younger, he’d always help you down with all the gentleness of a protective mother and its cub. Long slender fingers tucking under your armpits to lift you from his stiff mattress to stand you on the soft carpeting.

Guilt, in the form of his baby sister laying vulnerability-up, presenting to him in taunt, as if it’s a gift from Satan himself. You won’t know, will never know, It promises. You’re out cold, too many cups of trashy house-party drinks in, your night was bound to end up like this one way or another— exposed and defenseless in a man’s bed. You should be lucky it’s your own big brother’s.

He curses himself for still having been awake when you called him at half four in the morning, curses himself for staying up studying tapes of his opposing team. Bad habits die hard. You were loopy, slurring your words, and all he could hear were the warm familiar sound of ‘niichan, niichan’ tinkling through the static. He had the keys clanking in his hands before he even registered the other voices across the line; deep, low, predatory— of men.

The drive there felt like a blur, tunnel visioning only on the number plate you’d sloppily sent him three times, each varying in one digit. It wasn’t even the right address, it didn’t match your location on his phone.

He saw crowds, loud bass reverberating through to his sleek car that stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the sea of beat-up sedans and trucks. He saw limbs, too many limbs, entangling together in a frenzy of sweat and lust; limbs on curves and humps of silhouettes, limbs on your small frame leaning into the corner of the dimly lit room. Then he saw red.

He couldn’t hear the shouts and hollers of his name, crazed fangirls pawing at him for an autograph, a picture, any type of affection from The Oikawa Tooru himself, international volleyball superstar with too many sponsorships under his belt. He reached out an arm towards you, and you clung to him like a magnetic pull, whole body suctioning onto his and tittering out a string of ‘niichan came to pick me up’ and a fit of giggles.

His first conscious breath was taken once he got you in his car. He didn’t want to look at you, didn’t want to assess the damages lest he drove his car straight into the dastardly party if he saw any hint of protrusion. He didn’t; you were fine. You seemed fine, too. You were all-too happy to see him, bragged to him ‘I bet them that you would come pick me up if I called you.’

You told him you missed him, ‘missed niichan so much, he never even bothered to call when he came back to Japan’. Tooru sighed, half part relief, half part guilt. He told you he couldn’t bring you back to his hotel, had to bring you home, because imagine the scandal if he got papped.

It was a lie, he couldn’t give a damn if he got papped, he could easily have explained that it was his own sister; he couldn’t give himself up to the safety of his own enclosed room. His room with no security net of Mum and Dad threatening to barge in, his room where he was free to do whatever he wanted.

He drove you home.

You begged him to pick you up and carry you upstairs, because your feet hurt, they’re so sore from dancing all night. He complied, using all his decade-molded muscles to pull you into his chest and his heart sank to his gut at the realization that you weighed like nothing to him; just like you had when you were younger.

You were bigger now, grown, an adult, but he had grown all the same. It was like a cruel joke— no matter how much you grew, he’d parallel your growth so he would always be just that much stronger than you, that much bigger. The perfect size to protect you. The perfect size to hurt you.

He was directed to his own room rather than yours, with the excuse that yours was too close to the master bedroom, too risky to wake your parents up. His feet moved before his mind could stop him, muscle memory bringing him to the space he’s barely stepped foot in since he was eighteen.

It was too familiar, whole body transcending back to his childhood, back to the innocence of your relationship before he’s tainted it with his twisted perversions. His arms laid you down on his bed, hands finding the straps of your heels to pick off before you thumped back onto his bed, sprawled out and fast asleep.

He’s been staring at your vulnerable placid silhouette splayed on his bed for what feels like minutes, hours. He can’t bring himself to tuck you in, can’t trust his limbs to function how he instructs them to. His skin crawls at the gust of wind kissing the sweat embalming his body, but he doesn’t let himself strip off the suffocating layers. He wants to bask in the physical manifestation of his disgust, nausea, let it remind him of his twisted perversions he can never, ever indulge in.

You shiver, and he jumps. Your tiny body is quivering in chills, begging him to warm it up. He moves with the grace and caution of a robber on the prowl for an expensive jewel, gently snaking his arms under the crook of your knee and top of your spine, lifting you up and away from him like he’s terrified— disgusted, by you.

He lifts the covers and daintily drapes it over the small rise and fall of your chest, pinching the top with only two fingers. A deep breath, a moan, a soft ‘niichan’, and he thinks his heart has stopped completely.

He’s frozen, the hammering in his chest arguing that no, he’s still very much alive, and spares a glance down at you. Your eyelids are fluttering, lips softly pouting, and unmistakably still asleep. He’s mid sigh of relief when he feels a small hand wrap around his arm, and for the second time that night he thinks he’s died.

All the gravity weighing him down disappears as he lets himself be tugged down onto the bed, the weight of his body crushing your tiny one, but he can’t bring himself to move. He’s too scared, he’s horrified.

He can feel two dainty arms loop around his neck and cage his head into the side of your face. He can feel the palpitations in his chest, heart hammering straight into yours, tangling with your soft cadenced beats, reaching in and provoking it to waltz to the same fatal rhythm. He can feel his trousers strain and his blood run cold.

Deep breaths to the count of the tick and tocking of the clock on the wall. He feels blurry, vision blotchy, skin prickling with every flood of blood traveling south. He wills it to stop, begs for it to spare him, he’ll behave, he’ll never let his mind wonder to you ever again, he promises.

God is all merciful, but God has long given up on him. Satan wants to watch his world burn, collapse, and dance in the ashes of his crumbling dignity. It teases him with the hilt of your soft body moving to press into his, crawling into his arms caging you in, willfully entering the den holding a ravenous lion fighting its own fangs.

Your eyes flutter open, gaze finding his with striking precision, and smile. It’s the same smile you’ve given him his whole life, the trust and love carved into every quirk of the lip. It shatters his dignity, stomps on it with childish fervor, and Tooru chokes on the breath coming out.

He feels you nuzzling closer, can feel your hair tickling his chin, and prays for forgiveness to any God willing to listen. None do— he’s too far gone. His hand’s reaching to cradle the back of your head as he plants the softest kiss on your cheek with all the practiced grace of a man begging for salvation.

Your eyes stare straight into his with undeterred conviction, glazed over with equal parts alcoholic daze and pure, unadulterated adoration. There’s not enough oxygen traveling to his brain to justify his actions, no amount of repentance would excuse his sins. His lips press into yours, so gently it feels like a mere ghost of breath, quivering in prayers for forgiveness.

A shift; small warm body squirming under his arms, shuffling closer. It catches the tent between his legs, and his whole body twitches like it’s been stung. He barely chokes down the whimper that threatens to come out.

He can feel your hands locking behind his hair, pulling your body infinitely closer to his, smushing your soft tits into his hard chest as he feels the breath sucked out of him by the Devil himself. There’s no more feigned chastity, all abstinence launched aside as he feels a little tongue prod at his lips. They open to let yours in, sucking on it as if it’ll bring his very breath back.

He doesn’t let himself wonder if it’s okay, he knows it’s not; it’s wrong, so wrong, on so many levels. He’s given up trying to please a Holy deity, Satan can take him whole if it means he can ravish in his sick twisted fantasies. He slots a leg between yours, letting the two pairs tangle and waltz to the symphony of your matching heartbeats, finally synching in a virulent tempo.

Breaths turn to pants, turn to unmistakable moans, and Tooru has to pull back to clamp a hand over your mouth in warning. The imagery of his long slender fingers covering more than half your face sends jolts down his body at the same time he realizes it’s him whining out so desperately.

He looks back at your face, beady, glassy, needy eyes peering back at him in sheer devotion, and he shuts his eyes in pure agony as his heart clenches in pangs of guilt, while his adulterous cock twitches in revelation. The warm soft breaths fan his palm, lips puckering underneath to peck softly at his fingers in hopes of escape; he thinks he might cum untouched.

His hand yanks back in shock, in horror, in disgust. But your hands clasped firmly behind hair pulls him back in, and he whispers out a prayer before a soft, “We can’t.” His eyes bore into yours, begging for mercy, begging you to let him go so he can suffer for his sins.

You don’t respond, not immediately. He feels his face pulled into yours and a distinct moisture building up on his thigh wedged between your much smaller legs. Wet— the suction on his tongue, the grinding on his leg, everything’s wet, and damp, and he thinks his mind might be drowning.

He can hear whines, pitched in desperation, and he’s certain they’re from you this time. His arm moves to grip at your hips, cupping your supple mound to shift it up the sheets and press your cunny against his straining erection. His hips buck on instinct, grazing the drooling slit covered only by a thin piece of cotton.

His mind goes blank, vision patching, and it’s too fast, too much, “please, Tooru-nii”— he’s crying. There’s tears stinging the corners of his eyes while he chokes out a string of ‘no, no, no’. He can’t slow the erratic humps against his lil sister’s cunt, the fingers digging into your hips marking you with patches of blooming purple and green, ‘I love you, niichan’.

It’s a knee-jerk reaction; he yanks his body back, takes sharp inhales of breath, until he can open his eyes to look at you again. Panic and nausea coat his tongue where it once tasted like you, but he’s met with the same look of pure adoration you gave him before he tainted your body with sin.

He realizes your hands are still straining to reach the back of his neck where they were before he wrenched his body away. They’re laying gently on his shoulders, twirling lazily at the strands of his hair curling around the base. Tears are flowing down his cheeks, or maybe it’s one single continuous tear, and his body is wracked with guilty desperation.

There’s no malice in your expression, no accusatory anger, and most of all, no disgust. Your face is painted with bliss, and joy, and love— Tooru snaps.

He’s pushing your shoulders back until they meet his singular pillow, and crawls down to nest in the space between your thighs. Large palms hook under your knees and push back until they touch your shoulders, and he moans when he sees your arms reach out to hook them in place obediently.

He wants to cherish this moment, burn the image into his brain for years to come, however many he’s spared, but his loins burn with years of yearning. He grants himself one glance at your tiny frame spread open for him, revels in the sheer devotion in your eyes, and plunges his face into the drenched cotton covering your core.

You moan out his name in a wanton reaction as he inhales your sweet toxins like he’s trying to drown— he is, he has no reason to live past this moment he sins, no right to live as he indulges in his sick perversions.

He can feel each shake and tremor of your thighs above his head as he sucks and licks at the soaked cotton, rendered nothing but an useless scrap now. Each suck is paired with a deep whine, echoing through his now-barren room. With one swift move he pulls off your panties and let it dangle between your ankles hanging above your bodies. Slick lines drip from the wet rag, stretching to connect back to your drooling pussy.

Five seconds— that’s how long he allows himself to marvel at your leaking slit, lips pink and puckered around the clenching hole. His cockhead drenches through his pants, so painfully hard a soft breath could send him tumbling over.

But he doesn’t allow himself to touch it, it’s not about him; it’s about you. Your devotion, mercy— your sheer, unadulterated, unwavering love for him. It’s about you; you deserve the best, you deserve it all, you deserve someone that’s not him.

He licks up, tongue flat, and slowly follows the dip between your folds until he suctions onto your swollen bud. His lips give it a soft peck, before wrapping around it and enclosing it in the hot heat of his mouth.

He has half a mind to snake his hand up to clamp over your mouth, stop the loud moans and sobs from coming out, but each wail shoots jolts of arousal straight to his leaking dick; he can’t bring himself to shut it down, despite how good you look with his long fingers wrapped around your face.

With every long lap, he pulls more cries out of you, and by the time he prods his tongue into your needy hole, you’re clenching down on him, sucking back on the muscle. You’re close, he can feel it. His tongue fucks into you without any of the mercy you’ve graced him, hips rutting into the bedsheet in tangent to your growing squeals.

The palpitations hammering in his heart synchronizes with the pulse of your cunt, weaving into a fatal rondo before everything stops; his hips, your cries, the air closes in on your writhing bodies as he paints his pants in shame and sin.

He allows his peripherals to roam your body; thighs indented with tiny crescents by your dainty fingers, mouth agape with your cute pink tongue lolling out— he swallows down his guilt, letting it scorch his insides before coating his cock threatening to twitch back to life.

He watches your hands drop down from their determined grip, thumping lightly as they hit his bed. He gingerly folds your legs back onto the flat surface before dipping down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. He can feel your arms shake in attempt to reach out and cuddle him in, but give out to fatigue.

Your eyes flutter closed, lips molding back to that soft smile ever-present in his presence, and he thinks he hears a faint whisper of, ‘I love you, Tooru-nii.’

Placid, limp, he watches as your body loses energy and drains into the mattress below. It slaps him in the face, presents him with a trophy, a golden star stamped with a big fat ‘Sin’ calligraphed on. His world collapses around him, buries him in the debris of his crumbled dignity, and the Devil dances.

#tw: incest #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reade #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #oikawa tooru #tw: somnophilia #sorry for the super super long authors note!! #i promise it wont be that long ever again oopsies #I JUST #HAVE A LOT OF EMOTIONS!! #PLEEEEASE HEED THE WARNINGS #P L E A S E #IVE TAGGED IT #ANYTHING I NEED TO TAG #SO #PLEASE #READ THE WARNINGS AND DECIDE WHETHER OR NOT IT WILL UPSET YOU #THANK U!!! #but!!! also on a side note: #If you feel like I’ve missed a tag; PLEAAASS message me! #I’m not the greatest at tagging warnings but I think I cover the main ones rhat I can think of #PLEASE message me if I’ve forgotten any; I’ll be forever thankful <33 #oikawa #baka no sakubun

[imaginationmess]

TAKE MY HAND (ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE) [BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER]; TWO

Bakugou Katsuki X Reader

AGED UP AU!

Summary: When you take on the burden to keep the ones living safe, which causes you to become a traitor, but you had to pick a decision, and it cost their trust in you. You reverted to your old violent self. Months later, you find yourself face to face with your old friends. They want you to help them because they know you can handle yourself in this current state of the world. They are still ignorant of the state the world is. They have no idea how more dangerous it has become.

“We are still fucking fighting and won’t stop fighting. If you fucking give up, we lose!”

BEFORE READING! PLEASE READ DISCLAIMER!

Previously Chapter ONE; Masterlist

Chapter TWO

Word Count: 1,600+

Spoiler Alert for Anime watchers: There will be mention of Midoirya’s new quirks that haven’t been introduced in the anime.

Once the four of them have taken a shower and had time to discuss with each other weighing the pros and cons of trusting you. You did have a good record of keeping up with your promises before the incident where you betrayed all of their trust. It’s a tie between trusting you or not trusting you over a deal.

They are gonna reconsider the vote about it, later at night. They are all curious how you became a Mafia boss from just an original teenager who wanted to become a hero. To only become a cold killer and making a name for yourself years later.

They only have heard stories and rumors of the alias you go by.

Glitch.

A masked individual who is widely known for their cold,calculated mind and a heartless killer who didn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire. A leader who rapidly climbing up the ladder in the mafia world during the time of the apocalypse. A leader who became to hold more territory and killing off of other leaders to take their territory and expand their army.

A name alone made your enemies tremble in their boots.

They are hoping to get better judgment, seeing how things are run here.

The young boy that goes by the alias Speedy gave them a quick tour, but didn’t show the whole building due to being confidential from outsiders. He is just following orders. He was taking them to the cafeteria to grab something to eat to only notice where the children were eating all together were pointing at them. Most of them have eyes of admiration and pure awe looking at them.

“They are fans of you guys. They have seen the old video recording of previous sports festivals. We had to keep them somewhat entertained. Glitch got her hands on those old videos.” Speedy explains to continue to eat his soup.

The boys nod, understanding why the kids are so excited to see them in the flesh. It was weird, but somewhat comforting that the younger generation isn’t taught to hate heroes.

“I would keep those degrading comments of Miss Glitch to yourselves because the people who live here aren’t fans of heroes, much less of outsides. I heard you guys arguing earlier outside the room. You weren’t very quiet.” He looks at Bakugou in a way saying you are the loud one, before adding, “Everyone here would not agree on whatever image you decide to picture her.”

“Why wouldn’t they agree? Isn’t she a killer though?” Todoroki is just addressing the tension in the air. Midoriya and Kirishima choked on their food before coughing. They forgot Todoroki still struggles to read the social situations.

“Yes, she has killed many, but it is done to keep everyone safe. At the state of the world, it isn’t run by heroes who never got their hands dirty. It is run by killers because prison doesn’t exist. Who is gonna be the one to put those low lives underneath the ground? You guys never faced the true danger of the current state of the world. You are always protected just because you attend a prestigious school before the apocalypse hit.” Speedy spits out before taking a deep breath and just continues eating his food. His left hand was

“I apologized for his comment. We just have a history of them. It didn’t end on a good note. I know yo-.”

Speedy interrupts Midoriya by slams his spoon on the table before taking a deep breath to recollect himself.

“You don’t know any of our experiences. It was hell before Miss Glitch came to save us and took us in with no judgment. She taught us how to freaking survive by teaching us numerous tools such as self-defense and weapon handling. She never expected anything in return, unlike other mafia groups.”

The sound of a clap pauses the tension being created by five of them. The ex heroes in training look up to see meet the emotionless man covered with tattoos and scars. The same man who was within the room left to the minor from earlier. He placed a hand on top of Speedy head to ruffle his hair.

“Go ahead, eat with your sibling. Take a breather. I will take over making sure these little shits behave.” He removes his hand from his head before taking a seat beside the teenager.

“But-” Speedy was hesitant on leaving his position.

“It’s an order. Spend time with your sibling. Enjoy the night off.” The older man takes out a red apple from his pocket. Speedy stares at the four outside and gives a quick nod before taking his leave.

Bakugou Katsuki was staring at the man with suspicion as if he saw him before this mission. He wasn’t the only one who was thought so. Midoriya recalls those same tattoos, but it must have been a long time ago. He couldn’t easily recall. They were eating quietly until they finished.

“Let’s start ny introducing myself. I am Daichi. I am usually the one who runs this base when Miss Glitch isn’t present. It must have been your lucky day because you would have been tortured to death for trespassing.” The hairs behind their neck rise and getting goosebumps.

They sense malicious by the way he is sounding. Midoriya’s danger senses were activating and going crazy causing him to want to step away from him. It takes him back to when All For One and Stain’s presence.

Daichi’s yellow eyes stare at every one of them as he takes out a pocket knife directs it at Midoriya who was sitting in front of him. “The only reason you four are alive and even getting treated with special treatment is because of Miss Glitch. Step out of line, I wouldn’t hesitate to beat the shit of you wannabe heroes. That’s the only thing. I am allowed to do.” He swiftly put his pocket knife after cutting his apple into six pieces which fall on the napkin. He claps his hands together cutting through the tension for him to drop the act to replace it with a fake smile.

“Anyways comes to my question. What did you talk about with the young boy making them lose their composure?”

He was oblivious enjoying tormenting these wannabe heroes.

_______________________________________

Meanwhile, inside the hero’s refuge base where there is a tall metal barrier that runs underneath 20 feet underground.

There was a young man with black hair with his signature scarf, looking at a map looking where to travel to get more food and other resources. They are running out of places to investigate. The last 2 locations were a complete bust. It has been cleaned out completely. He is one of the leaders of the camp where they have stayed safe since the beginning of the apocalypse.

There was a knock on the wall, before someone coming in through the curtains. They pull a chair across from him, before taking a seat. They are twirling it around for them to rest their arms on the top of the chair.

“Aizawa, I can’t believe you took my suggestion seriously.” The young male with the purple bed hair as if he just rolled out of bed, comments. He has a small scar above his eyebrow. He has a few scars on his arms that have grown muscular.

“It was insane, but not outside of the possibilities.” Aizawa laid back in his chair and stares at his former student who is now somewhat a version copy of himself when it comes to fighting styles.

“Do you tell the trio? Whom they are gonna be meeting?” The purple-haired questions, not seeing they would be willing to see a former classmate that so-called became a traitor in their eyes.

“No. They wouldn’t be willing to do it despite us being a tight spot right now when it comes to resources.” Aizawa answers, before ruffling his hair and keeping his eyes closed. He is stressed out and not having a lot of options. They are running low on adults that were pro heroes. They have lost many throughout the apocalypse. Many of them abandon their original mission to save themselves.

The apocalypse revealed the true heroes who aren’t for the money. They are a good amount of pro heroes who got captured by mafia groups to have power. Some of them show over time randomly at their doorstep after being spared by the mask individual Glitch. That’s the only information they are allowed to share about their interaction with Glitch.

Aizawa and the other leaders of the camp believe the individual took them close enough for them to walk to their camp. Aizawa suspects it is one of his former students whom he didn’t have any contract  ever since the infamous incident. Majorly of his students calls them to be traitors.

“I still don’t get why we never told the truth about what actually happened that day.” The purple-haired male looks to the side to see Eri outside away from any harm playing with Kota.

“Hitoshi, It was a quick agreement exchange of keeping our mouths close and follow whatever story they want to make up. She swore to keep her word on securing your guys safe within her presence.” Aizawa applies pressure on his forehead to relieve the headache.

Aizawa remembering back to the U.A dorms where you are smiling and being a normal teenager. The image of that student whom he watched over for months became dark. She was no longer a child, but an emotionless shell of what she should be.

The lifeless eyes staring back at him, covered in bruises and blood that wasn’t her own. She was carrying unconscious Eri. You were bathed by your enemy’s blood. The remaining light of innocence in your eyes had vanished from existence. It only reveals just cold, calculated eyes that were staring at his soul.

“Aizawa.”

💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

Any thoughts/Feelings/Predictions that you have while out reading this chapter.

I would love to hear them! <3

If you wish to be tagged, do comment down below.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki x fem!reader #bakugo katsuki x fem!reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #katsuki bakugo x fem!reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero x reader #takemyhand #take my hand series #take my hand #zombie apocalypse au #zombies

[psychicdreamfriendoperator]

What do you think the Shishigumi were like as teenagers

Considering that this ask includes all of the Shishigumi, I opted to just do bulletpoints this time around.

In retrospect, I didn't focus on their personalities as teenagers, but rather on what their lives were like as teens.

I hope this is okay— enjoy!

— Psychic

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Ibuki

He joined the Shishigumi at age 18.

Even after joining the syndicate, he was by and by a non-violent person.

If the then-boss hadn't made him, Ibuki would not have gotten involved in the dirtier parts of the business.

He understood how cruel the world was (the tattoos on his arm are a harsh reminder of that), but he kept a type of naiveté about him, still.

Even in the Black Market, the life of a criminal was highly romanticised.

To put it simply, Ibuki's naiveté all but disappeared when he killed his first animal.

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Dolph

Dolph had a clear understanding of how criminal groups operated.

He was young, but he wasn't stupid.

He knew what he was getting into, but he was smart enough to understand that he had no other options.

The teenaged Dolph only thought of one thing: “survival”.

But, no amount of preparation can prepare someone for nearly having their eyes clawed out in a fight.

Dolph was never the hyperactive type, but after he gained his iconic scar, he retreated further inwards.

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Free

Believe it or not, Free actually calmed down a little from when he was a teenager.

Teenaged Free had no concept of doing anything in moderation, and picked fights with any and every one.

He didn't expect to survive for long in the Black Market— if you could die today, why waste time planning for tomorrow? Wasn't it best to die with no regrets?

Joining the Shishigumi gave him structure; this structure, though criminal in nature, resulted in Free putting a clamp on his reckless nature.

.

.

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Agata

Everything about Agata was average.

His grades, his school life . . .

He was regarded as a “failure” because of his mediocrity; we all know how society views lions, after all.

Perhaps something clicked in him.

He was mediocre, yes, but he was still a lion.

And a proud one at that.

He wasn't impressive at all, really, but he still amassed a small following at his school.

And then, he met the Shishigumi.

Though he's now an adult in his 20s, one could argue that Agata's still a teenager at heart.

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Hino

Growing up in the Black Market wasn't exactly an easy life.

His access to education was very limited.

What he lacked in book smarts, Hino made up for it with street smarts, and with his looks.

It was certainly dishonest, but he made himself into something of a scam artist.

He'd pick a target, romance them and then swindle them out of their savings.

He made a semi-comfortable living like this, though he had to stop when he joined the syndicate.

His looks were put to use elsewhere.

Arguably, Hino's line of work never changed— just the boss.

.

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Miguel

In the Black Market, strength meant authority. Authority meant power. Power meant survival.

Miguel kicked, bit, scratched and clawed his way to survival.

Underground fighting rings were a quick, easy way to earn money. Wealthy patrons would then bet on who would win, and who would die lose.

He was scouted by the Shishigumi's then-leader for his brute strength.

Only a fool would turn down the population to join the gang.

There was power in numbers, after all.

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Jinma

He reveived no formal education; the streets were his teacher, and surviving each day was his test.

While others focused on gaining notoriety or immense strength, Jinma focused on gaining information.

Though it wasn't anything impressive, Jinma ran an information guild when he was a teen.

It qas comprised of himself and whoever he could pick up off the streets.

He was loyal only to himself— he didn't mind snitching on a mob boss to another syndicate leader, provided that the price was right.

He was scouted by the Shishigumi’s then-boss not too long after.

He accepted because, at that point in time, he had quite a few mob bosses after him. He was promised protection from them should he join the Shishigumi.

As a precautionary measure, Jinma cut his mane. He faked a birthmark by applying black dye to his face.

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Dope

He was a suave talker ever since he was young.

He could negotiate anything; raw talent such as this was rare in the Black Market.

With his honeyed words, he could convince a herbivore to walk straight into a carnivore's jaws.

Like most of the other Shishigumi lions, Dope was scouted by the Leader himself.

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.

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Sabu

I headcanon that he grew up in the gang.

He's the oldest of the current members, which seems to imply that he has experience under his belt.

As a teen, Sabu would've lived separate from the recruits— he was already a trusted member of the gang by virtue of having grown up in it, the new recruits were not.

His face is scarred as a result of the many fights he got into.

He began to wear his bandana as an intimidation tactic.

Just as komodo dragons are known for their venom, lions are known for their powerful jaws.

He doesn't need to rely on his fangs to hurt someone.

#beastars headcanons #beastars shishigumi #beastars #beastars imagines #beastars ibuki #beastars dolph #beastars free #beastars agata #beastars hino #beastars miguel #beastars jinma #beastars dope #beastars sabu #ask

[technicallymilkshakes]

Reciprocal ❂ || 1 of 2

A Manager!verse story Genre(s): Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Smut (in future chapter) Pairing: Jongin x Reader Word Count: 4.1k No warnings for this chapter, but note that the next one will contain mature content.

Next Chapter >>

Less than two hours outside of Seoul, the night air already seemed easier to breathe. The windows were open and a rain-scented breeze blew in to riffle the top of your hair. Brake lights reflected red on the slick roadside ahead of you before fracturing into ten thousand raindrops against the windshield. This was a Friday night kind of feeling. You felt reckless and emotional, free for the first time in months and brimming with life.

Jongin had told you that he would halfsy the drive. Instead, he was deep asleep in the passenger seat, head slumped sideways, shoes kicked off within minutes of entering the vehicle. Promotions had been particularly brutal this time around. Without the other members to help ease the burden, Kai had to be on at all times. He was charming and dorky and witty—he flourished under all the attention—but it came with a toll. You scheduled PT sessions in any brief moments of respite you could cram then in. He slept wherever and whenever he could and when he couldn't, he drank coffee.

Running point for this solo had been just as taxing for you. Time moved in recordings, photoshoots, and appearances. You'd fall asleep and wake up reviewing the itinerary. Promotions were occurring across a variety of platforms and you spent countless hours researching and breaking down offers, liaising with event managers and security, monitoring press reviews and social media. You were in so deep, you didn't even realize you weren't living until someone else pointed it out. Nine, Baekhyun's manager, encouraged both of you to take a vacation. Pronto. Their experience shepherding Baekhyun through multiple solo albums had been invaluable, so you weren't about to argue.

Besides, you hadn't been to the mountains since your first year of high school.

It had stopped raining by the time you pulled up to your destination. Jongin was already awake, blinking heavily at the sight that greeted him.

The mountain lodge was modern but inviting. The lights were on and they spilled pleasantly out into the night. You turned the car off and stepped out into chilled air enlivened with the sounds of leaves rustling, insects chirping, and nocturnal animals stirring.

Inside, golden wood warmed the open space. The retreat was divided into two levels—living/dining area and one bedroom on the first floor and the master bedroom with a balcony that would be rich with fresh vegetables in the summer on the second.

You looked out on the living room. The designer had impeccable taste. Plush seating with cushions and pillows in sumptuous fabrics curled around a fireplace. Your toes sank into lush, layered carpeting, which bracketed and defined the space. It was comfortable and intimate. You could easily imagine yourself sinking into a chair and nestling in for a nap, lulled into a trance by the fire.

The kitchen gleamed in the opposite corner, all straight lines and modern appliances. And the dining area next to it. Table and chairs had been regally arranged in front of wall-to-wall sliding glass doors that, for now, looked out onto darkness.

But there was one particular feature that had clinched the deal when you booked the place.

“There's a spa bath here,” you said, and suppressed a smile at the soft 'ooh' Jongin let out as he disappeared to investigate.

A quietness settled over you in his wake. There was no wifi here, no work to haunt your waking nor sleeping hours. The other managers were under strict orders not to contact you unless there was an emergency.

You felt oddly vulnerable, stripped of the last vestiges of responsibility holding you together. Listless and exhausted, you climbed upstairs and fell into bed without a thought for anything else.

**

You woke early the next morning, body too used to being tired. You stared at the ceiling for an indeterminable time, thoughts eddying around without any clear distinction, like static noise that only resolved itself into proper words when you concentrated.

You'd been managing Kai for almost five years now. Hard to believe. You loved this, the sense of belonging and the endless opportunities to learn, but the pace was grueling. Five years was a long time. You couldn't imagine how some of the older managers had kept up. You weren't sure how you had kept up. And, if you were being honest, you weren't sure anymore if you should.

But that was too much thinking for this early in the morning. You rolled over in bed and shut your eyes.

After the appropriate amount of indeterminable time had passed, you heaved yourself out of bed. Sleep wasn't coming back for you. Duvet wrapped around your shoulders, you slinked downstairs to find Jongin rummaging around in the cabinets. He spun around, flinching as a drawer clanged shut behind him, then relaxed.

“You too, huh?” he said with a lopsided grin.

You nodded.  It was no surprise to find him here. You were just two bodies too accustomed to being together.

You turned your gaze to the counters. “What are you doing?”

“I was trying to make some coffee.”

He looked wan and tired. One armed wrapped around his middle, the collar of his shirt sunk low enough to expose his collarbones... like he was holding himself together, trying to stay warm.

A sense of fierce protectiveness overcame you. You were both overworked. But at least in this small bubble, this moment in time and space, nothing could hurt him, including himself. No work excuses allowed.

“That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen,” you said, and he gave a weak laugh before getting an armful of duvet shoved at him. “Go sit down, I'll bring it over.”

Jongin stood there a moment staring at you. Under-cabinet lighting slashed over his chest, the rest of him slipping into shadow before he disappeared completely as he pulled the duvet over your head.

You felt a light kick to your backside.

“Hey!” You wrestled with the duvet. “As soon as I get out of this thing...!”

But he was grinning at you when you finally pulled it off, and you felt your urge for vengeance abate far too quickly as your fatigue flared. You still punched him in the shoulder, though.

He pouted, rubbing his shoulder.

“Oh, don't give me those puppy dog eyes. You deserved it.”

“I can make coffee...”

“You can,” you agreed. “With adult supervision. Now get the kettle out.”

**

The sunrise was something pulled from a poet's imagination. The lodge perched along a low ridge and peered down into the valley. Jongin had pulled open the curtains to what only last night had looked out into darkness and now found the world at his door. Together, you watched as the sun spilled over the mountain peaks opposite, then glissaded down powdery slopes to the tree line. The trees across the valley, where the mountains were taller, were still snowcapped, and the first sun rays lit them up like jewelry before setting them aflame with light, their trunks like matchsticks to the fire. Shadows tucked themselves in to sleep at the feet of the brightest places.

Day woke and stretched its radiant fingers across the sky to tangle in the wingtips of greeting birds. And with the sun came some clarity. These last few months had tested your commitment and shaken the bedrock upon which you had built your future. But if everyday the birds could rise and welcome the the newborn morning so lovingly, you thought you could keep trying to find beauty in it, too.

Next to you, Jongin had fallen asleep wrapped in your duvet. You leaned over and tucked his toes in.

**

The village was quaint and small, situated on a scenic one-lane-each-way route that wound through the mountains. The cashier at the grocery store greeted you as you entered. You felt her eyes on your back as you moved through the store.

The cabin came stocked with various dry foods, but you needed to pick up the perishables. Most of the in-season vegetables and fruit had been grown in the area, with little signs detailing farms and their locations. Strawberries, kumquat, apples, wild parsley and chive, and even shepherd's purse laying in baskets, some of which had been foraged from the mountainside just this morning. There was a vibrant freshness to the produce here that you just couldn't find in the city.

You gathered everything you needed, taking no heed of diet restrictions or nutritional value, and went to ring up your purchases. The cashier gave you small smile and talked quietly of some of the hidden gems to visit around here, hands sweeping back and forth over the scanner as she spoke. She had a soft and lilting accent you found pleasant to listen to.

You hid your embarrassment. Was it that obvious you were from out of town? She probably knew from the moment you had stepped inside. Heck, you hadn't worried about fitting in for so long. Over the years, your accent had eroded away against standard Korean and harsh edges of the city. And the boys had been so welcoming. At least she was friendly, though. Soon enough, you were hauling your bags out to the car, but not before thanking the woman for her advice.

**

Jongin was still lying on the couch when you got back, barely awake. Two cold mugs of coffee lay abandoned on the table next to him, one still nearly full. He sat up when you walked in with the bags, frowning.

“You went shopping?”

You heard the missing “without me?” and gave him a calm look. “You were asleep and I needed something to eat for lunch.”

He gathered himself up with a frown, wrapping the duvet around himself just as you had this morning. It already felt like a day ago even though it couldn't be past 11 in the morning. He inspected the bags, pulling them open and poking through them. You watched with amusement between putting the contents of the already-poked-through-bags away.

“What are you, a dog?”

“You got pig bars?!” He pulled out the ice cream, the item cradled in his palms. He looked at you wide-eyed, some mixture of reverence and fright.

“Yes. No chicken either.”

He kept staring down at his hands and you chuckled awkwardly to fill the silence. He opened the ice bar and jumped up onto the counter.

As you put the groceries away and then began making soy bean soup with the shepherd's purse, Jongin remained quiet and watchful. You enjoyed living alone back in Seoul, but you found you didn't mind his company. His presence was comforting—a constant, quiet companion. Not a dog, then. Your lips quirked. A cat.

The kitchen filled with the beat of knife against cutting board, the melody of soft burbling from the pot on the stove. You found yourself slipping back into the rhythm of cooking, like a dancer remembering the steps to an old song.

“What song is that?”

You startled, knife slipping, nicking the knuckle of your middle finger. You hissed, dropping the knife to inspect the cut. “Shit. What?”

Jongin jumped down from the counter, grabbing your hand, apologies tripping themselves over his lips.

“It's fine, it's really shallow, don't worry about it.”

His grip tightened, and his head remained bent low over your hand, examining the cut. “Let me worry,” he said.

So you sat in muteness after washing the cut. He took your hands and dried them with a towel, soft pats and delicate swipes. His eyes would flick up to your face now and again, carefully observing your expression. Sometimes, you would catch him doing it. His lips would arc gently into a smile and you would look away, scalded by the softness of lips and eyes. You stared instead at his fingers. They moved as light as butterflies over you as he applied a bandage.

Jongin lifted himself away, a lightness to his shoulders.

The words cast themselves from your throat, thrown out like hooks, that old part of you reeling to keep his attention.

“Thank you.”

Something glittered behind that gaze. He looked you straight on with that smile like honey and said, “I was glad for the chance to take care of you.”

**

After lunch, you went straight up to your room, sank onto your bed, and stared blankly at the wall.

What was that? Your mind sped in a circuit, thoughts looping back on each other. Why'd he do that?

Surely your brain had short-circuited. He was like that with everyone, you reminded yourself, sweet and concerned. The type to ask a stranger how they're doing and stick around for an answer. But without the barrier of work, things felt different. It dredged up old feelings, back when you were half-way in love with him. It embarrassed you something fierce now, but in the beginning you used to make a playlist of all the songs you knew he listened to. You'd play it at night after work, lying in bed in the dark and wondering if right now, he wasn't doing the same. It made you long for him and feel closer to him all at once. You always paid Kim Jongin too much attention.

But at some point, you changed your focus. You threw yourself into the role of manager head first. Taking care of him was number one. You spent so much time around him in various states of undress over the years, helping with quick changes or applying therapeutic patches. You'd stood behind the cameras, watching other people fall in with him with a smile. You'd seen him at his worst, in pain, angry and sullen with the confinement of the world. It was the ultimate form of exposure therapy. Gone were the nights filled with music and yearning. You'd prepare for the next schedule before you sank exhausted into a deep and dreamless sleep. You thought you were immune.

You should've been immune.

So why did it feel so very much like you weren't?

**

You acted skittish around him at dinner, skirting over things and racing through the meal. You felt his cool gaze on you as you ate and felt yourself hunkering lower and lower over your plate like some threatened beast.

“Did you want to take a bath?”

“What?” you squeaked.

He looked up at you over his forkful of pasta, eyebrows raised.

“The bath in my room. It's like a spa. I thought you might want to relax while you're here. You're welcome to use it anytime.”

“Oh.” You swallowed thickly. “Um, maybe later. Thanks.”

Safe to say you did not take a bath in his room that night.

**

You woke first the second day. Sleep hadn't come easy, and you spent much of the night thinking of how to stop thinking, daydreaming of a long walk to purge all thoughts from your head. And so you dressed and headed downstairs on quiet socked feet. The owner of the lodge kept galoshes for the guests, and you pulled a pair out, slipping them over your shoes before walking out into the world.

Most of the snow that remained on this side of the mountain had melted, leaving behind stretches of mud that sucked at your shoes. Around you, the birds trilled. The forest was full of forest noises—pine needles brushing against the wind, woodpeckers drilling against bark. The website for the lodge mentioned that there were a number of trails maintained by a grounds crew throughout the property. A stream bordered the western edge of the property, and you thought you remembered something about a Buddhist shrine located near there.

You missed this, you realized about a half hour into the walk. Seoul had its share of scenic parks and river walks, but it felt like a held breath. Something temporary, a quick break before you returned to the rushing arteries of people making a living.

Life felt impossibly lethargic here in contrast. You realized, with one moment of panic, that you hadn't yet checked your phone this morning, before it dissipated slowly. You were on vacation, you reminded yourself. The others could hold down the fort while you were gone.

The path you were following rounded a corner into a scenic corner of the world. A small waterfall fed by snowmelt spilled over a mossy rock face into a pool surrounded by sweet grass. You stayed there for a while by the edge, mist falling over you in fine sprays. Small diamonds of water accumulated along the woolen fibers of your sleeves.

After about 15 or 20 minutes, the urge to move was back. The trail branched off here, and a lichen-covered stone marker sat in the intersection. You recognized it as one of the landmarks the woman from the grocery had mentioned. The hanja carved into it had grown worn and faded. 'Grove of the Elders' it read. You took the path to the left.

Soon, you found yourself in the Grove of the Elders. Erman's birch trees filled the clearing. The branches were still spindly, buds just forming on the tips. Papery bark peeled away from the trunk like old men's beards. White forsythia was in the early stage of blooming along the periphery. You understood why it had been named the way it had.

You made your way through the grove. The trees were well-established, some with trunks thick enough to wrap your arms around. You were making your way through the grove, marveling at the open blue sky above you, when you almost stepped on Jongin.

“Whoa.” He jumped up from where he had been reclined against the base of a tree, rubbing a hand along the backs of his thighs. “What are you doing here?”

It was disorienting to run into him here, out in the middle of the woods. You had forgotten about him, about everything if you were being honest. But confronted with the realness of him again, your worries returned.

“Me?” you asked. “I was on a walk. What are you doing laying here?”

“I was trying to read.” He flashed a heavily dog-eared paperback of Papillon. “Didn't really get that far,” he said with a wry grin.

“Oh, sorry. I'll let you get back to it.”

You made to leave when his hand stretched out and gripped your sleeve.

“That's not what I meant.” He seemed flustered at your misunderstanding and he released his grip on you. “You don't have to. I was actually thinking about stretching my legs. If you don't mind the company.”

“I don't,” you responded quietly, even though you weren't sure if that was the truth. You had come here to be alone with your thoughts after all, not spiral into a silent panic.

Jongin smiled at you and shoved his book in the back of his jeans as he fell into step.

**

It felt surreal to walk through the woods like this with him. It was like being on the set of a music video, except you were the subject. The perfect setting for a story.

“Is it okay if I tell you something?”

Jongin sent you a questioning look. Something about his eyes caught you. You realized that this was maybe the first time you were about to confide something in him. Secrets were dangerous things.  “Yeah, of course.”

“Sometimes I wonder how much of a person I am without you.” You laughed. “It's silly, I know. But I used to be so spontaneous. One time, I volunteered to pose nude for an adult art class just because, I dunno, it seemed like an experience. I liked collecting memories. My friends always used to ask me what I was up to.

“Now, they ask me what you're doing. Because it's the same thing now, I guess.”

You exhaled, then felt a hand wrap around your own.

Jongin looked at you, really looked at you. There was a particular intensity to this, a piercing quality that you had never been subjected to.

“You are more than me,” he said.

You were taken aback at his response.

His grip tightened. “I couldn't do this without you,” he continued. “I should've told you before—but I'm not like Jongdae, I forget. I think,” he ran a hand through his hair, “I thought you already knew, but it was stupid of me too assume when I wasn't... I didn't... You're the best manager I've had. I'm not saying that just to flatter you.”

The words tumbled out of him. You'd never seen him so discombobulated, and that threw you off kilter in turn. You hadn't expected anything from him, had let go of the words like balloons released from clumsy fingers, where an appropriate response might be “oh no.”

“You're knowledgeable and accountable. Do you know how much I rely on you? I was so nervous this comeback, I only made it through because of you.” He swept your hand up to his chest. You could feel his heart beating frantically against your knuckles, like it, too, was trying to tell you something. “I do better when you're around. I want to make you proud. So get that through your stubborn brain: I wouldn't be even half of what I am now if it wasn't for you.”

The tears came, unbidden. In a heartbeat, Jongin had pulled you in close, your head against his chest. One of his arms wrapped around your back, while the other lay now at your sides, his fingers still intertwined with yours.

“I don't even know why I'm crying,” you laughed through your tears.

“You're always fighting for me. I just wish I could do more for you.” His fingers grazed over the bandage on your finger.

The laughter faded into full-throated sobs. Your heart squeezed with an uncomfortable fullness. You were overwhelmed. Lately, it had felt as if work was a crushing void, a thankless pit that sucked everything out of you. You felt isolated, living life without reciprocation or support. Jongin wouldn't know it, but he made you feel like a person again. He brought back the colors.

Dew drops dripped from branches around you, soft patters against soft spring grass. Jongin was warm and solid against you.

“I get scared that I can't do this forever.” The words were spoken softly. Jongin wasn't looking at you when you lifted your head, focused instead on something in the distance. “I don't know what I would I do without EXO.” He finally dropped his gaze to yours. You saw your own uncertainty reflected back. “Or you.”

You knew then that everything you'd been through lately, the uncertainty, didn't matter. You were both a little broken. So you pressed yourself against him harder, a pair of fractured hearts holding each other up. “You won't be getting rid of me anytime soon.”

Jongin sank into the embrace, his cheek pressed against your temple. You felt his chest build with a sigh, felt the exhale on the baby hairs of your nape. Dry lips grazed against you. His wordless thanks lingered upon your skin.

**

By some unspoken agreement, Jongin's hand remained in yours on the trek back to the lodge. You walked close enough to brush arms and skim each others thighs. A small part of you dreaded that you'd have to let go once you got back.

“The first time I realized I trusted you was when I told you I didn't know how to iron,” he confessed out of the blue.

You laughed. You remembered that day. Jongin had been adamant about wearing a bear-print shirt to the airport the following day, but it was so wrinkled. The collar pointed in two different directions and one sleeve was longer than the other unless someone held it down straight.

“I didn't know how to iron a shirt either,” you admitted.

Jongin grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “We had to look up a tutorial on Naver, remember?”

“Oh yeah, the one with the Kyungsoo look-a-like, right? I took screenshots and sent them to Cho-hee.” You told him how Kyungsoo's manager had coerced him into recreating the shoot. Jongin had gasped delightedly and you made a mental note to show him the pictures when you got back. “But hey, wait, you still don't know how to iron, what the heck! I just ironed something for you last week!"

“Ah I don't know, I don't know,” Jongin chanted, plugging an ear with his free hand. “What tutorial? I don't know anything.”

“Kim Jongin, you are shameless.”

Laughter rang through the trees. Here was the morning you would rise to greet every day.

___________________________

A/N: The second, and final, chapter should be up next weekend (June 19-20). Me, releasing more than one thing in a month? Who am I??

Thank you for reading!

A/N 2: Second part is now up.

[ ❂ Read more Manager!verse here ]

#exowritersnet #jongin fanfic #jongin fic #exo fanfic #exo scenarios #exo fic #jongin fanfiction #jongin scenario #exo fanfiction #kai fic #kai fanfiction #jongin x reader #kai x reader #exo x reader #exo fluff #exo #jongin #kai #kim jongin #kai fanfic #kai scenario #jongin fluff #kai fluff #goodness me writing tags always feels like a marathon

[bellatrixobsessed1]

What do you consider demonizing Azula vs objectively describing her less flattering traits and harmful actions?

Honestly, it all comes down to word choice and language at the end of the day imo. If someone’s character analysis is presented with a certain tone I’m more inclined to say that they are demonizing her. For example saying that “ as a child Azula demonstrated red flags for mental illness and should have been helped” is a lot less antagonizing than “Azula was born evil, she liked to tease and bully Zuko from the start.” One of these statements addresses the complexities of her situation (a broken home and several poor adult influences/examples) while the other basically places full blame on a child. Things like that. I really, really do believe that it’s all about the tone an Azula analysis is presented in. 

Personally I would agree that some of her childhood behaviors, like setting Zuko’s pants on fire and burning some of the bushes in the place garden were huge red flags. They are harmful actions. BUT a lot of those could be 1. attention getting antics because her mother usually paid more attention to her when she misbehaved. 2. Her emulating Ozai and his attitude. And stuff like, “dad’s going to kill you.” Is very much Azula mimicking what her father demonstrated as well as her father actively rewarding her for behaviors like that. These are definitely harmful actions that started getting worse as she got older. An analysis like that is fair and not demonizing imo, because it recognizes that Azula is still a kid and it doesn’t write off the possibility for her to unlearn some of these behaviors later in life with the right help. 

While something like, “even child Azula is a insane, look what she did to Zuko! What kind of sociopath sings-songs about someone’s dad killing them!?” Here is an example of using buzzwords and implying that mental illness as something that automatically makes someone evil. It puts all blame on Azula while factoring out the adults in her life that either sat passive or actively taught her these behaviors. This, imo, is demonizing. 

One of my biggest peeves at the moment is when they say that fucking Ozai and Zhao are more redeemable. Zhao was literally seen in the Avatar universe version of Hell. It is canon that he did not get redemption. So by extension it is canon that he is NOT more redeemable than Azula whose fate is still ambiguous. And there is not one argument that can convince me that the grown ass man who burned his own son’s face off while tearing apart his self-worth is more redeemable than a fourteen year old girl. There is not one argument that can convince me that a man who made a weapon out of his daughter and (heavily implied) abused his wife (at least emotionally) is more redeemable than a fourteen year old girl. Usually I try to keep an open mind and be nice about my opinions in these discourses but I just can’t with this one; I think that this particular statement is stupid as hell. Ozai and (especially in canon and in Hell) Zhao are NOT more redeemable than Azula. Bye, miss me with that dumb shit. 

Some more specific examples that come to mind are;

 When people make Azula out to be a murderer and/or a sadist

The turtle duck thing

Baby Azula.  

The murder thing drives me nuts because, first of all, she’s a solider. She’s at war. Her one kill was a combat kill, he came back to life, and he was entering the Avatar state. Now correct me if I’m wrong but Aang killed Zhao in the Avatar state. You can’t tell me that no one died or was seriously injured in the episode ‘The Avatar State’. So of course she’s gonna shoot him down; he could have killed her just as well. He had no control over the Avatar state at the time. 

Furthermore she has the least amount of collateral damage. And one of the smallest body counts. Aang has killed so many background characters via the Avatar state. Sokka killed Combustion man. Sokka, Suki, and Toph killed several soldiers by crashing those war blimps in the finale. I think that you get the point. But none of them get called murders like Azula does. Everyone seems to be well aware that all of those were combat kills. The reason they get called soldiers instead of murders is because they are protagonists. 

Azula is not a murder. She is a solider. Combat kills are different than murder. They are horrible and unfortunate all the same but it isn’t murder. 

And then there’s the sadist claim. At best I think that that’s a misinterpretation of character. At least from my personal POV. I've seen it argued that she’s not a sadist but only because it’s more coinvent not to be; that she would be one if  she had time for it. But I think that a true sadist wouldn’t give a shit if it’s not convenient. If she were a sadist I feel like she would go out of her way to hurt people like Chit Sang even if it’s not necessary. Azula does only what’s necessary and that’s it. I do think that Azula is merciful. Perhaps not conventionally so but she isn’t cruel. She takes prisoners and as far as we’ve seen on screen those prisoners aren’t treated particularly bad (by Azula anyhow). She doesn’t torture her prisoners and she doesn’t kill them. 

Now, I will give more of an open mind to people who say that she is an EMOTIONAL sadist of sorts. I do think that she gets a kick out of scaring people and bullying people. I’m on the fence with this argument though because how much of her getting a kick out of Zuko’s suffering is her also being relieved that it is not her. And how much of it is more run of the mill teenage bullying? This is one thing where I’m more than willing to hear from the other side. 

I think that the murderer and sadism thing is very much an attempt to demonize her. I think that it can be an exaggeration of her unflattering behaviors. I’m not saying that the things she did aren’t harmful but I do think that some people over exaggerate them or make up stuff that isn’t there; I’ve seen people state that she ‘probably killed so many soldiers off screen’. There is no canon evidence to support this? Likewise these are generally the same people who tell Azula fans that they can’t say Azula was abused off screen. 

The other big one is the turtleduck one. Zuko demonstrates how Azula feeds turtleducks. He throws a piece of bread. I don’t know where the rock thing came from. Furthermore I very much think that Azula chucking a loaf of bread at a turtleduck is just a small child being a little shit. When I was like five or six I yeeted a good half a loaf at a duck because, “the more food they get the happier they are, right????” To me that just seems more like a small child who has not learned impulse control than a child who likes hurting animals. This whole argument, at least imo, is actively demonizing a child for actions that aren’t exactly uncommon for children. The problem is when the child doesn’t learn that yeeting whole loafs at turtleducks is a bad thing. THIS is where I see a fair argument forming because (as of late) Azula didn’t seem to have unlearned this behavior. This is an example of one of those red flags I mentioned in the first paragraph. Which is where some nuance and critical thinking needs to come in. The complexities that I mentioned above about how the child isn’t 100% to blame here. The adults in her life should have tried to teach her better and/or Ozai need to fuck on off and stop teaching her to do wrong. 

And finally baby Azula. I’ll just drop a link here because I already talked about this. But the tone of The Search literally tried to demonize a whole baby. The way the narrative decided frame her was really unnecessary. I really don’t see how this scene contributed to the story other than to remind readers that ‘Azula was always evil, see!’ Nevermind that she’s sleeping in a whole crib. Because that’s a literal infant. 

Anyhow I might come back to this later to add more or clarify but I’m about to make lunch so I’ll end this here for now. Feel free to discuss further. I definitely don’t mind hearing from the other side so long as arguments are respectful and open minded.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Azula Discourse #Azula Analysis #Demonizing Azula #Fandom

[beepbeepbobop]

Back again.

I was telling my friend (who isn’t a Baccano! fan, but listens to me ramble) about my take on immortals and Czeslaw, and I don’t know where to put it, so!  It goes here.  As a warning, this is mostly me rambling and probably treads ground that has been talked about a lot in the past, but I hope it’s interesting anyway.

(This and the Infinity Train post is not a sign that I’m going to be more active in the future.  Social media and the prospect of interacting with other people’s posts still make me anxious.  Maybe one day.)

So!  The first thing to keep in mind is that change is a major theme in Baccano!.  No one is incapable of changing, but people have different relationships with it depending on who they are.  Czes can't believe that he has changed seventy years after Isaac & Miria stealing him despite clear evidence that he has. ��Meanwhile, Nile actively resists change:  His greatest fear after becoming immortal was that he would become desensitized to the loss of human life and begin to devalue it, so he spent decades fighting in active war zones so that he'd never forget the reality of death.  This backfired, and instead left him inured to loss of life...but it's clear that he doesn't want to be this way?  Realizing that he's gotten to the point where his expression doesn't even change if someone dies is devastating for him.  Chane is the opposite:  While it's absolutely for the best that she stops being a hitwoman and killing machine for her father, softening up is terrifying to her because then she can't serve her father the way she wants to.   Czes is on the opposite end of the spectrum, because he wants to be better because he thinks he's a bad person (later on, he decides that he's the only bad person left in the world.  Sir.), but can't recognize it because he doesn't feel different.

And...this is pertinent to the older immortals in particular - I'd argue even moreso than with the younger ones.  Aside from the fact that the Elixir literally stops you from changing in the sense of age or injury...it also has to place inhibitors on your brain.  Your brain is, after all, a physical part of your body!  There are some....weird aspects about immortality that no one is able to figure out (for example, immortals can give birth; someone also pointed out that there are no examples of crying in reverse even though that's also a part of your body), but it's still safe to say that the brain doesn't age either because then...then a lot of the cast would be catatonic from Alzheimer's.  Even without that, the human body can only retain so many memories.  If an immortal's brain had the ability to deteriorate over time or overload based off of the amount of memories it contains....well, I don't think any of the older immortals would be able to function.  Szilard definitely wouldn't be able to function (and neither would Firo after he devours Szilard) because Szilard has the memories of over a dozen people running around in his brain.  Which brings me to my next point:  If an immortal's brain functioned like a human's, devouring would not work as a concept.  One of the hallmarks of being immortal is gaining other people's memories.  Imagine the strain that would cause.  And yet, it doesn't seem to be a problem!  The chief worry of those who have devoured other immortals is worrying that having the memories of the other person might change you consciously or subconsciously.  This is Firo's concern over devouring Szilard.

So...the fact that the brain doesn't physically grow older or change (with some leniency given because real world science sure is iffy here)...feels relevant because, mn...

Many of the older immortals feel stagnant, or stuck in time.  Firstly, if the immortals changed at the same pace as a human being, I don't think most of them would be recognizable from one era to the other.  And yet, they are!  The Victor Talbot of the 1700s is clearly the same person as the Victor Talbot of the 1930s, albeit with alterations (because what kind of person would stay exactly the same after centuries?).  The answer to that question is Elmer, by the way.  Everyone comments on how he acts just like the Elmer they remember back in the day.  But Elmer is a special case, seeing as he's our local empty shell and probable sociopath (not that he has ASPD!  ASPD, sociopathy and psychopathy all present and function entirely differently from each other, which makes it....strange that they're lumped under the same umbrella - but that's another matter).  Secondly, immortals...Uhm, they all handle grief horribly, and seem to feel stuck in the past?  Maiza, for instance, acts starkly different from his past as a rebellious noble-boy gang member, but he's never forgiven himself for giving Gretto the information that led to his death.  (Gretto being his brother.)  Huey's overarching goal is to bring his dead girlfriend back to life, and he's been working towards this goal for centuries.  Sylvie, who admittedly was not an immortal when Gretto died, held off on drinking the Elixir until she was all grown up, then set out to finding Szilard to take revenge on him for killing the boy she had run away with.  This lasted for, you guessed it, centuries.

This isn't to say that immortals don't change, or even that they don't change drastically.  I mentioned Nile, who became inured to death after fighting in war for decades.  Czes went from a trusting, innocent child to someone paranoid and self-centered enough to try and get an entire train car's worth of people killed for his own safety to someone who wants to be a good person, but thinks he never will be and that there's something fundamentally wrong with him.  But changing appears to be very, very difficult, and happens over an extended period of time in response to extreme situations.

And...this is particularly relevant to Czes (who keeps coming up as an example because he's the main person I'm thinking about with this tangent) because....it arguably hits him harder than any of the others due to being a child.  Only the best decisions were made aboard the Advenna Avis, which includes letting the eight year old drink the immortality elixir.  But...mn.  It's one thing to be perpetually in your thirties, or twenties, or sixties, and another altogether to perpetually be eight years old.  Czes can't truly 'grow up' even though he has more life experience than most adults combined, and it shows in his extreme emotional reactions, his self-centeredness, ect.  There's a certain misconception about anime-only fans that he's an adult in a child's body, but I think it's easier to tell in the light novels that that's not the case, especially since you see what he's like back before the Advenna Avis.  (He is shy.  Very shy.  Did nothing wrong ever.)  Also, the fact that SAMPLE goes, "Yes!  The perfect sacrifice!" when they specifically take a child to target emphasizes this.  It's not proof - I'm pretty sure that SAMPLE would focus on his physical age as an 'eternal child', and may or may not have the resources to analyze him and go, "This boy is still eight years old in his head," - , but it hammers the point home.

Then...mn.  One thing that's stuck out to me ever since the start is how long Czes was with Fermet.  There's such a thing as learned helplessness, and it's not like Czes had anywhere to go, so that's not what is odd to me...especially when Fermet is known for manipulating people, and could definitely seed the idea that Czes can't go anywhere.  More than physical proximity, I think about how long Czes believed in Fermet.  It's explicitly stated that Czes absorbing Fermet's memories is what made him realize that - oh, Fermet was just sadistic and everything he said was an excuse.  And...I think this is both an example of being controlled in many respects, and....another example of an immortal being stuck in the past - but in a very, very different way.

First off, learning that the people you look up to want to harm you is...difficult at best, especially when you're younger?  But being mentally 'stuck' at a certain age would make things worse, because Czes is perpetually an age where it's natural to depend on a parental figure, and at an age where the brain isn't equipped to make those kinds of calls or realizations.  There's also the matter of cognitive dissonance!  Cognitive dissonance means a lot of things, but essentially, it's the idea that you have two conflicting beliefs, but the actions you take can retroactively alter your beliefs/place emphasis on one more than the other, as the mind is predisposed to reduce dissonance.  I...take issue with how cognitive dissonance is interpreted because many examples don't account for the beliefs or opinions not being equal in the first place, but that's not the point.  The point is that, as a child, the impulse to reduce dissonance is present while also being played against difficulty reading intentions, perceiving the world outside of yourself, and thinking critically.  (For what it's worth, abusers also tend to discourage critical thinking because it damages their narrative, which would also play a part.)   So, for example...

Say that, theoretically, Czes was yelled at every time he questions the idea that Fermet's intentions are right, or that maybe Fermet doesn't have his best interests in mind.  (Czes is insightful, and they lived with each other for a long time, so this probably happened at least once unless the text directly contradicts me.)  This is tame compared to the things we know about his time with Fermet, but ignore that.  The desire to not be yelled at would lead him to hurriedly agree later on, and cognitive dissonance means that you're inclined to try to make your beliefs agree with your actions.  In other words, the more he plays along, the more his brain tells him that he definitely believes this, and it makes perfect sense to!  Fermet has shown that he cares about him, and took him in after his grandfather died, so of course.  It only makes sense.  And it's even harder for him to bridge the gap to a different conclusion because of how difficult it seems to be for immortals to change.  It's only when Czes devours Fermet (or...or at least gets his memories) that everything snaps into place, because he can't reconcile that no matter how hard he tries (coincidentally, this also happens when he gets memories of being an adult, and while I seriously doubt that Czes went through Fermet's memories willingly, it kind of hammers my point about how difficult being eternally young would make things).  So of course he snaps as hard as he does.  It'd be kind of amazing if he didn't, honestly.

TLDR:  Being immortal made it even harder for him to recognize or comprehend his trauma.  Sorry for that.

#baccano #baccano! #czeslaw meyer #nile (baccano) #I don't know who else I discussed enough to tag #but the segment about szilard made me wonder whether you would have more memories from devouring a dozen people or from living #for a couple centuries #I think it depends on how old the immortals were #discord ramblings

[ganymedesclock]

I think it’s very important as an adult to maintain empathy for children. We don’t have to like every child as much as we have to like every adult. But I think that it’s very easy to forget how it felt to be a child, to not look back on that. It’s so much easier to hear a kid arguing in a store because they want a toy mommy, then it is to realize the store set this argument up, because kids are fettered to the space around their caretakers in public places, and a lot of things are put above kids’ eye level. 

It’s very difficult for them to participate in this space; there’s very little for them to do. And all of their options are frustrating:

Self-entertain with a handheld electronic device? Think about how much people complain about kids being glued to their gameboy. And that’s assuming first they have one.

Simply wait? Requires patience, and patience isn’t a personality trait, it’s a skill. As an adult with ADHD I’m only fairly recently (I’m in my 20′s) learning how to idle efficiently in ways that don’t leave me frustrated and bored anyway. Kids have had so much less of their lifetime to gain skills.

Start a conversation? With their parent who’s busy? With strangers? 

So they wander and get bored and where they wander to is to, say, the bright colorful display of stuffed animals right there, or the candy, which all helpfully have shelves at their height.

I worked as a cashier at a hardware store for three years, and a pattern I noticed is that very often, the “best behaved” kids came paired with an adult who was talking to them and giving them tasks to do, like “could you help me hold this?” or “would you like to look at the toys for a while while mommy goes and picks up something else?”

I feel like a lot of the frustration around kids can stem from- well, the societal pressure that everybody should have kids and what do you mean you’re not ready, chop chop you’re an adult get married and procreate, but that’s a whole other kettle of worms- that kids really do need a certain amount of support and patience. As adults, we progressively build internal structures to, in short, deal with the world. For kids, those structures tend half-built or on much humbler specs. 

Oftentimes it’s easy to resent the idea that we have to “handle” kids- and believe me I know how stressful it can feel to hear a crying kid when you’re in that precarious mental health state of really not wanting any excess sounds- but you have to let go of the idea kids do this on purpose because they’re demons from hell and hate you specifically. Even willful misbehavior can come from a point of frustration or stress that they may not understand or be able to articulate.

Basically I can guarantee that it is always easier to ‘deal with’ a kid, as an adult, than it is to be a kid, as a kid.

How well-behaved would most of us grown-ups be if we were constantly at the whims of someone who could physically overpower us, without our own money or ability to travel freely, being taken to a bunch of places we have limited emotional investment with? You’d be ready to kill someone after about the third stop.

#long post #this post made by childcare gang

[notasiren21]

bless us with your thoughts on zutara

Honestly babe, Zutara makes more sense than what we were given.

Zutara was basically an act of fan baiting and some teasing, leading many to believe that there was no way they wouldn’t end up together.

Their dynamic is better than any other in the show. They are foils as well as compliments to each other as well.

Both have lost their mothers and the maternal care they once had. Both have siblings they feel the need to reign in -let’s be real tho, Zuko was given a shit deal even if I kinda wish Azula was given a redemption arc. And both are at an emotional maturity that suits the other.

This also goes in with my theory and debate of: what’s worse: to wake up after a coma of x amount of years or to wake up after being cryogenically frozen into a new world?

And surprisingly, I’ve gotten a lot of siding to the coma one which is what I associate Zuko with.

Zuko was that coma patient who was living asleep with only rage and a need to redeem himself keeping him alive and functioning. His awakening was brief when he and Katara had that one moment before it was interrupted and then he was coaxed back to sleep by Azula. Iroh was by his side through it all when no one else came.

Zuko’s awakening leaves him without those few years he lost out on and now he’s like 16 and has to forget everything to be his age, be mature, act as it. Zuko is left almost defenseless and without help besides one person when he lets go of his demanding rage. He’s left with the child he once was in a close to young adult’s body, someone who needs to help take down the man that abused his trust, loyalty and love.

Katara manages to be this warmth he’s missing -ironically lmao- and once she moves past her hurt and his betrayal, she sees he is weak like the rest of them but trying. There’s a certain comfort they can get in one another and respect they don’t hide for each other.

I’m willing to bet this extends in a desperate need to have the other alive.

(Yea to anyone who is gonna argue, cryo freezing would suck too and poor Aang, I do feel bad but consider this:

Coma you lose out on years of your life -literally. Everyone has grown up around you and dealt without you in a mask if you basically being dead.

Aang wakes up to his world destroyed and literally nothing to hold him back -I stg I put this more eloquently in my post about this.

Basically, Aang can’t dwell on his past because his past literally looks like ruins or doesn’t exist, it’s not what he once knew. For some reason, he’s able to mourn then cope with it far easier than Zuko is for being a person who has had to live in those years of exile and judgement.

Aang also lives with the constant surrounding that he is of the utmost importance to their world and survival. And he’s young. Despite being an air bender he lets it go to his head multiple times and has a war between arrogance and humbleness, sometimes his love for praise and childish desire to be seen doing stuff overrides what someone needs of humility and grounding.

(Not to mention I guess he’s a shit father in LoK but that’s another time)

Aang sorta believes him and Katara are meant to be since she and Sokka have been the only constant in his life. Since they are the only things he’s known in this new world to him. It would only “make sense” that he and Katara end up together because she’s always been there, he loves her, she’s always willing to do what he needs.

But I believe Katara lives in blindness because she’s also in the state of mind of doing what Aang wants and needs, not necessarily what she wants. It’s like misguided maternal affection -something Katara has been giving out to her tribe since she was old enough and picked up the slack, even managing Sokka.

I think Zuko to her is like a breath of fresh air and a huge comfort- and not like brother and sister sense.

Honestly believe that they would confide in one another about anything and everything, stuff they could never say to the others. These two act as the parents of the group and constantly have to reign them in, aging their emotional and just maturity in general.

I think Zuko holds back because he also just assumes she’ll end up with Aang. Zuko also have next to no confidence for shit like loving himself. So I think Zuko wouldn’t go after Katara because of 1) Aang and 2) because he doesn’t think he deserves her, he probably thinks he’s lucky enough to be her friend.

Their hug had more chemistry than any kiss I’ve seen between Kataang, and it was a hug.

Also there’s the lovers, Oma and Shu, that I believe they are the reincarnation of -I believe that theory so hard. I think Zutara are the basic example of soulmates and they always find their way back to each other even if they don’t necessarily end up together.

Because it seems that in the end, the most important person in their life, their person and other half, is each other. Even if they don’t act on their feelings.

I think had they ended up together, it would’ve been a happy and love filled marriage, that a child would’ve known the love of two parents and seen true love in their eyes.

Both are willing to die for one another, not necessarily the cause if it’s for Aang.

Ifk what the fuck happened and it this was consistent oh well

#atla #zutara #atla Zutara #Zuko x Katara #katara x Zuko #atla Zuko x Katara #atla katara x Zuko #avatar last airbender #avatar katara #avatar zuko #avatar Zuko x katara #avatar katara x Zuko #avatar the last airbender Zuko x katara #avatar the last airbender katara x Zuko #Oma x shu #asks #thoughts