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#secret identity fails
oldmannapping · 2 months
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Fic: The Lecture
Summary: Fourth in the Networking series, which is my little playpen where I put Bernard, Jason, and Roy into the same room as many times as possible.
In this installment, Bernard gives Tim, Jason, and Roy a lecture about the importance of disguises.
Excerpt:
“Tim, you and I have had this conversation before,” said Bernard. “You know I respect what you do so much, but it’s physically painful to watch you and your family run around acting like a little sex dungeon mask is all it takes to maintain a secret identity.”
Roy grabbed Tim’s arm. “I love him,” he told Tim quietly. “If you don’t marry him, I will.”
Read it here
The Networking Series
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luxaofhesperides · 6 months
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Ghostlights as college roommates and maybe some identity shenanigans thrown in would be so fun! Maybe dannys doing a little vigilante work on the side as well to up the secret identity mayhem
Danny would like to say his college career is going well. Gotham isn’t where he was expecting to pursue higher education, but the engineering scholarship he got through the Wayne Educational Foundation was just too good to turn down. It even covered the cost of an apartment! Although, the apartment is shared with another student who got a Wayne scholarship. 
Even with that, Danny lucked out and got a great roommate. Duke Thomas is chill, kind, respects Danny’s space and doesn’t throw wild parties or invite random people in at all hours of the day. He even joins Danny twice a week for study sessions!
Really, it would be the perfect college experience except for one thing: the ghosts.
Danny thought they’d stay in Amity Park. They had no reason to stray from the city where the portal was, and his parents are more than enough to keep most ghosts away. It took his friends, Jazz, and even Vlad to convince Danny that he wasn’t abandoning Amity Park and that the city wouldn’t fall while he took a few years to focus on himself. 
He worried right up until he got to GCU and walked the campus for the first time. Then he decided to enjoy the four years he had on the scholarship to get his degree and live his own life like a normal person.
To say he’s pissed about the ghosts is an understatement. 
The one thing he was looking forward to most is not being Phantom. Gotham is home to the Bats and they’re more than capable of handling everything in the city. It means there’s no need for him here and he can focus on school and enjoy going on invisible flights without worrying about being hunted down or having to fight a ghost. 
“Are you fucking kidding me,” he mutters under his breath as he feels the familiar chill race up his throat, A cold mist wafts out of his mouth, curling around his words, and Danny quickly ducks his head and hides it from sight. 
“Did you say something?” Duke asks, looking up from where he leans against the kitchen counter, squinting at a recipe on his phone. 
“Nah,” Danny lies. “Just stressing.” He gestures to the papers he has spread out on the dining table, then stands up. “I’m gonna take a walk. Maybe that’ll get my brain to work correctly tonight.”
“Got your phone on you?”
Danny reflexively drops a hand to his pocket, checking that his phone is where it’s supposed to be. It’s what Duke asks every single time Danny mentions going out, worried about Danny being unprepared for Gotham. It’s nice of him, though Danny does wish he can say that he’s survived a lot worse than a few muggers. 
“Got it.”
“Alright. I’ll try to work on dinner while you’re out.”
Danny nods and offers Duke a small wave before pulling his shoes on at the door. He grabs his keys and heads out, double checking that the door is locked behind him. 
Then he glances around the hallway, checking that the coast is clear, and pulls up the chill of awareness in his chest. Slowly, he breathes out, watching the blue mist waft out and lead towards the stairwell. 
“Wonder who it is this time,” he mutters to himself, going into the cold, concrete stairwell. It always feels a little off in there, as if he’s been removed from the rest of the world when the door closes behind him. His footsteps echo oddly in the space, so Danny chooses to fly instead, keeping his feet off the floor. 
A few flights down is when he sees her: pale and translucent, a faint blue glow around her. She’s a familiar face. Emilia is one of the first of Gotham’s ghosts he’s met, leading to the rather unpleasant realization that ghosts don’t only come from the Infinite Realms. There’s a strange sort of magic in the very foundations of Gotham that makes it the way it is, creating ghosts that are different enough from what he’s used to that it leaves him off balance. 
Gotham keeps her dead. Few get to pass on peacefully, and most have to wait until they grow weak and wither away, a second death, before they can be released from the living realm. The ghosts of Gotham are pale and weak, for the most part, and try to cling to him so grow stronger from his ectoplasm. 
Most want him to help them pass on, or give them a way into the Infinite Realms. Some want him to bring justice to their killers. Others want to kill him and take his ectoplasm for their own so they can continue their reign of terror in Gotham, unable to be stopped even in death. 
Emilia gives him warnings. It’s not always her, but she tends to be the one to draw him out of his apartment, pulling him into a vigilante lifestyle because he can’t bring himself to refuse anyone who asks for his help, and the dead in Gotham have no one else to ask.
“Danny,” she greets. “Nueve is out again. He’s going after the ghosts near Chantilly Street.”
“The sun isn’t even down yet,” Danny grumbles. Nueve, an old gang enforcer who died a few decades ago, cannibalizes other ghosts. It doesn’t destroy the other ghosts, not really, but it makes them feel pain when they shouldn’t be able to feel much at all. Taking their limited reserves of ectoplasm makes him momentarily stronger, and he uses that stolen strength to try to harm the living.
He’s been successful a few times. Danny makes sure to rip him apart as much as possible these days; he won’t be here forever, but he’s hoping that within his four years at GCU, he’ll be able to permanently stop Nueve.
Times like these, he misses having a Fenton Thermos with him. Though he’s not entirely sure it would work on Gotham’s ghosts with how different they are. 
Emilia follows him down the stairwell to the ground floor. Once there, Danny shoves his hand into the floor, taking out the backpack he’s hidden in it. He’s done this change of clothes so often he can do it in just a minute now, hiding his face and pulling on gloves beneath a large hoodie with old ectoplasm stains along the sleeves and hem. A gas mask is pulled on as well, covering the bottom half of his face, a necessary addition to his Ghost Work Outfit™ after he almost got caught in some Fear Gas during Scarecrow’s last attack. 
“Alright,” he says, “Lead the way.”
Emilia takes off through the wall and Danny hurries to follow, going invisible as he hits the streets. 
It’s still early evening, the sun not yet fully set. Plenty of people walk along the sidewalks and cars pass by endlessly, honking at each other as they try to go twenty above the speed limit. Danny does his best to avoid running into everyone, deftly dodging the reaching hands of a few ghosts who spot him as he sprints by. 
They only go a few blocks away from his apartment building, turning into a dead end alley where a group of teens (living, for once) are stuck with their backs to the wall, clinging to each other as they warily watch the man in front of them carelessly twirl a gun around his finger. 
The man makes a strange clicking noise in the back of his throat, and it takes Danny a moment to realize that he’s trying to talk. 
Still invisible, Danny sneaks around to stand in front of the teens, ready to bodily protect them. The man looks alive, and Danny see any ghosts around save for Emilia, standing at the mouth of the alley. There’s something strange about him; his movements seem just a little off, not quite as fluid as they should be. It’s not the movement of someone on drugs. It’s something that screams uncanny valley.
The gun’s handle drops solidly into the man’s palm. He makes another few clicks, then raising the gun to point at the teens.
“Bad idea, pal,” Danny says dropping his invisibility. The teens behind him startle, gasping and trying to press themselves further into the wall. 
The man’s eyes flash weakly and the pieces click into place in Danny’s mind. Nueve must have gotten strong enough to possess someone. That is… alarming, to say the least.
He rips the gun out of the man’s hand and tosses it aside. Then he pushes away the man’s arm when Nueve makes a clumsy attempt to punch him. With his chest left wide open and undefended, Danny takes the chance to shove his hand into the man’s chest, feeling for the familiar chill of a ghost. 
And then he wraps his fingers tight around it and pulls out Nueve, leaving the man to collapse. 
The teens behind him scream and Danny winces. 
Pulling out a faintly glowing human figure from someone’s physical body does not look good. It’s the best way to end a possession, but it does look alarmingly like he’s just ripped someone’s soul out of their body.
Keeping hold of Nueve’s ghost, Danny steps to the side. “You guys should go now. Take care.”
The teens don’t need any more prompting. They take off in a run, tripping over each other in their haste to get away.
Danny spares a glance to the man unconscious on the ground, but there’s nothing he can do with an angry ghost in his hands, so he has no choice but to leave him there as he flies up to a rooftop farther down the street. 
“How many times do we need to do this, Nueve?” he asks tiredly, shaking the ghost.
“These streets should be mine!” Nueve howls, trying to break free of Danny’s grasp. But he’s quickly growing weak, his energy fading, and Danny’s holding back his own ectoplasm as tightly as he can. “They may have killed me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still take what I’m owed!”
“Dude, you’re dead. There’s nothing here for you. Move on.”
“You don’t get to speak on this, outsider. You think a freak like you has an say over us? You can’t stop us. You don’t even know what’s coming.”
Danny squints at him. “What, are you planning a heist or something? With your gang of dead people too weak to lift a piece of paper?”
“We’re not all dead. We’ve got living folk helping us and we’ll be taking you out first when we hit the streets.”
“Good luck with that,” Danny says flatly, “Begone with you.” 
Without giving Nueve a chance to say another word, he rips Nueve’s head off his body. His ghost wavers, then dissipates like smoke, fading away. 
Another side effect of whatever it is Gotham does to her dead: their ghost forms are remarkably fragile and it takes only a bit of strength to tear them to shreds, giving him some peace before they reform again. It won’t stop Nueve from striking out again, gathering enough strength until he’s able to possess some other unfortunate soul, but Danny’s bought himself some time to figure out what the hell was he talking about?
There are living folk involved with whatever he’s planning. It’s probably another gang, maybe someone with magic who is able to see ghosts? Which is not great. Danny doesn’t know much about magic; even when facing ghosts who used magic or magical artifacts, his go to method of dealing with them is to start throwing hands like there’s no tomorrow.
Well.
It’s a problem for later.
For now, Danny needs to get back to his apartment and work on his calculus homework. Hopefully he can finish it before he gets frustrated enough that he gives up and lies face down on the floor until Duke manhandles him onto the couch, where he’s less of a tripping hazard.
He’s just about to get back to street level when his Fenton Luck strikes again and he hears someone land on the roof, just a few feet behind him.
“Hey there, stranger,” the Signal says. “You know, we run into each other so often it feels rude not to introduce ourselves. Why don’t you go first?”
Danny turns to face the daylight vigilante, standing with his arms crossed as if that would make him look any more approachable. He’s been popping up wherever Danny’s out dealing with ghosts, which is very not great for Danny’s plans to have a peaceful, normal college life. 
Biting his tongue, Danny gives the Signal a quick two fingered salute, then goes intangible and drops down through the building. His invisibility sweeps over him and then he’s running through the streets, hoping it’s enough to keep the Signal from following him to his apartment.
He skids to a stop in the stairwell, dropping his intangibility just in time to crash into the wall. Panting, Danny waits for a tense minute to see if he’s been followed. 
When the door to the stairwell remains closed, he lets out a slow breath, then pulls off all the pieces of his Ghost Work Outfit, shoving it back into his bag. He takes a moment to fix his hair, messy from the hood, then shoves the bag back into the floor, safely hidden from curious eyes. 
Then he very casually walks up the stairs to the fifth floor and walks down the hallway to his apartment. His keys clang together when he opens the door, and Duke usually hears it when it does, but just in case, Danny calls out, “I’m back!”
He’s learned to announce himself after a few late night walks almost ended with him tackled to the floor when Duke thought someone was breaking in.
Duke doesn’t respond as he toes off his shoes. The stillness in the apartment feels off, as if the world is holding its breath. Cautiously, Danny walks in, trying to find his roommate.
He’s not in the kitchen. The living room is empty. Duke’s bedroom door is open and he’s not in there either. 
Something cold lodges itself in his chest. 
“Duke?” he tries again, looking over their apartment again for any sign of struggle, or something terrible happening, or even a mess that Duke needed more supplies to clean up. 
There’s nothing. The apartment is as it’s always been, just with an empty space where Duke should be.
Worried, Danny stands in the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out what he should do next. It’s because he’s standing so still, surrounded by silence, that he hears it: a light thud outside the window. 
Danny turns and he can swear he sees something large moving outside the window, disappearing from sight just as Danny takes a step into Duke’s room to check on it. He rushes to the window and pushes it open, looking down at the street, then side to side, and finally up to the last three floors of the building.
Nothing’s there.
Slowly, Danny pulls his head back inside, closing and locking the window. “Must be my imagination,” he says, trying to convince himself it’s not a big deal. 
He leaves Duke’s room and begins pacing down the hall, anxiety building steadily in him. 
His phones in his hand before he can think his actions through, Duke’s contact pulled up on the screen. He should call. He should make sure Duke is okay, but Danny hesitates. Is this something to be freaked out over? Would Duke thing he’s clingy and nervous and a bothersome roommate? He doesn’t want to risk Duke asking for a new roommate next year when the lease renews.
But he’s worried. It’s Gotham and Danny just dealt with a violent, murderous ghost threatening him. Duke can deal with a stressed out, worried Danny if it means he’s alive.
He hits the call button before he can talk himself out of it. It rings on and on and on until Danny starts to panic about having to find Duke’s ghost to avenge his murder. 
The front door is thrown open so suddenly and so loudly, Danny jumps and his phone clatters to the floor. 
“Danny! Hey!” Duke says with a bright smile, trying to catch his breath. He’s still holding onto the doorknob, slightly hunched over as he pants for breath. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m totally fine.”
“Where were you?”
Duke straightens up and closes the door, kicking off his shoes. “Oh, just… out. Shopping. For dinner.”
Danny looks over his empty hands doubtfully. “No luck finding what you needed?”
“Nope!”
“What did you need? Maybe I can go to a different store and get it for you.”
“You don’t need to!” Duke says. “I just needed… tomatoes?”
Danny blinks at him. “We have tomatoes. Did you not know we had tomatoes in the fridge?”
“Oh, do we? Good to know.”
There’s something very weird about this conversation, but Danny doesn’t pry. Duke is weird sometimes, but it’s fine because he kindly ignores some of Danny’s oddities that come from being a halfa and a semi-retired hero. 
“Do you… maybe wanna sit down? Catch your breath? I can make dinner tonight if you want.”
Duke waves a hand in the air. “No, no, it’s fine. I got this. Anyways, how was your walk?”
He definitely shouldn’t talk about the cannibal ghost and his threats to take out Danny with his gang. “It was nice. Very quiet. You know, for Gotham.” He punctuates this with an awkward thumbs up and immediately regrets it, but it’s already done so he commits to it.
“Cool! Great. Just wondering, did you see anything weird?”
“Depends on what you’re asking about?”
“Just some guy wearing black with a hood covering his face. He’s been active in this neighborhood and I saw some people talk about him online. Apparently he just appears out of thin air.”
Danny tries not to wince. That’s him, alright. Gotham’s newest neighborhood menace. “I don’t think so, but there’s a lot of people in Gotham that were all black and walk around with their hood up.”
“True,” Duke concedes. “Well, just be careful when you go out, alright?”
“I always am.” He gives Duke the same two fingered salute he gave the Signal. Duke stares at him for a moment, eyes dark and almost dangerous, then he smiles and walks into the kitchen. 
“Wanna make dinner with me? I think we can figure out this recipe together. Unless you need to do your homework.”
“It can wait!” Danny hurries to join Duke, grateful for an excuse to push off calculus a little longer. He understands what he’s doing in the class, there’s just… so much work. He doesn’t even want to think about the tests. The tests make everyone cry.
“Alright, let’s get to it, then!”
“You’re in charge, chef,” Danny says, laughingly, and bumps against Duke’s side. He expects a light shove in return, something Sam and Tucker always did, but Duke goes tense instead, letting out a sharp breath that Danny is all too familiar with. “Wait, why are you hurt? What happened?!”
He goes to lift up Duke’s shirt to inspect his shirt, see the damage for himself, but Duke smoothly moves out of the way, grabbing Danny’s wrists and stopping him in his tracks. “I’m fine, Danny. I just got hit. Lightly. Minor bruising, really.”
Danny looks at him doubtfully, then wrenches a wrist free to lift up his shirt before he can move again.
Minor bruising is not how Danny would describe the blues and purples that decorate Duke’s entire side. He can see the outline of Duke’s ribs through the bruising. “How is this being lightly bruised? What hit you?”
“A car?”
“A car?!”
Duke winces, then pulls his shirt down. “I’m fine, Danny, really. It was just from a car that didn’t want to stop at a red light. I stopped another person from being hit, but the car got me pretty solidly. You know how bad Gotham drivers are.”
“Sit down!” Danny says, pulling Duke out of the kitchen. “I don’t understand how you’re still standing. I’ll get some ice, and I’ll handle dinner. You just stay there and stop pushing yourself for no reason.”
“Playing nurse for me now?”
“If I have to.”
“Would you wear a nurse costume for me, too?” Duke jokes.
Danny looks him dead in the eye and says, “If I have to. Would that make you follow my instructions? A tight little nurse dress?”
Duke sputters, cheeks darkening, and looks away. Danny grins, victorious, and darts back to the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the fridge. 
“Maybe I’ll wear one for you anyways, once you’re all healed up. Only if you’re good, though.”
“Danny, you’re killing me here.”
“Better me than a car.”
Duke laughs and takes the ice pack, pressing it against his side carefully. “Oh, for sure. Thanks, Danny.”
“Hey, what are roommates for?” Danny shares a warm smile with Duke, then pats his shoulder and heads back to the kitchen to start making a simple pasta dinner. 
Life in Gotham is weird and stressful and full of ghosts and heroes who won’t leave him alone. But it’s not all that bad, really. He’s happy with how he’s doing in college, and he’s beyond lucky to have Duke as a roommate. So long as Duke never finds out about his halfa status, then he’s sure they’ll be able to last all four years rooming together.
He just needs to keep a secret. 
Shouldn’t be too hard, right?
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hi, new klance fic dropped! you can check it out right here. 😊
To: The person who stopped the washer in the middle of my wash cycle and took my clothes out just to wash yours... YEAH, YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE. Unfortunately for you, so am I. You can find your wet clothes frozen outside in the snow.
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feroluce · 1 year
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incredibly sexy of you to be blankshipping on main and in the tags <3 and with incredible takes and ideas on top of that!
Thank you Anon, it's so hard having the biggest dick in the room, but someone has to do it 😔
As a slightly? more serious answer, I think it's good and even important to have people being loud and proud and totally self-accepting on main in the proship circles. Like there needs to be someone showing the people who got bought in on the anti stances and are then beating themselves up for totally normal things that it's ok. You aren't a bad person just for liking something problematic about a play-pretend character in a make-believe scenario and you don't need to sink into self-loathing over such a thing.
Because some of them are in actual agony over this stuff, and some of them have already accepted this about themselves but are too deep in the anti circles now, so they'd lose their entire support system if they were outed. Not to mention how creepily violent and invasive antis get about proshippers- and as someone in actual anti spaces, you'd have a front row seat to all the atrocities people would wish on you, or maybe even go so far as to commit them themselves.
Like you know how people talk about extremely strict religious parents? How they would try to control a lot of the thoughts and actions in their child's life? And then sometimes even get violent when they didn't comply? All while excusing it as trying to keep them from sinning or being a bad person? It's the exact same thing. And it has a lot of the same effects, too. Antis aren't beating the problematic out of each other. They're just plain beating and traumatizing each other and then making each other into better liars who secretly hang out on the proship servers on the downlow.
And it sucks! It sucks so bad! Because I've talked to people in those exact situations and like. Especially the fact that a lot of them are still young. Like barely young adults. Some of them are still technically teenagers. They shouldn't be dealing with this bullshit at what's already such a tender and difficult age. And it makes my heart ache and my blood boil because some of them are outright scared and there's just not a lot that I can do about it. You can't shield or protect someone from all of that and it sucks.
So like yeah I'm gonna be noisy and annoying and yowl right on main because at least with that I can give people somewhere to go where they feel decently safe and accepted, even if they never interact once. That's what got us the blankshipping server, because our creator was in the anti servers while sending me blankshipping asks and decided "you know what this sucks actually" lol. That's what brought in a lot of our members, because I could yell my heart out into the void here and! People heard! And then they joined the server and found a place they could finally breathe! And it's so much fun in there now!! ♡
Anyway tl;dr thank you dear lovely Anon you are entirely correct I am incredibly sexy and everyone desires me carnally and my dick is huge and I haunt the submas servers with how I live in their minds rent free skzjkdksjd
#my heart goes out to the people caught in such terrible sticky situations like this#I got an ask once where they forgot to put it on anon and then got a dm from the same person where they were PANICKING about it#because they were so scared that I was going to accidentally out them by answering the ask#(if you see this sweetheart then I hope you know I'm rooting for you and I've never told a soul- not even my fellow shippers;#that secret comes with me to my grave)#this is also why I always keep anon on- I'd rather let the people in hiding or on the fence interact safely than not at all#like god but for real though#my biggest respect to the shippers who are able to lay low and control themselves#they used my name to test the blackout/censorship/whatever you call it function in the anti server and like#I just know if I'd been online at the time I wouldn't have been able to help myself#I would have given up my secret identity in a heartbeat for the bit#because it was just a bunch of people chanting my name like they were playing Bloody fuckin Mary and I woulda popped my head in there like#'yes you rang' BSKKDJXKDKDK#funniest fucking thing I'd ever seen it made my entire week I was in PUBLIC at the time out to lunch with my MOTHER#do you guys have any idea how horribly I must have failed at keeping a straight face BSKDKJZKSKKKD#and then I accidentally got drunk on too much rum and went to a craft show it was a good day dfkljadfkakda#I used to love seeing the blocklists every week too because my name was always at the top but then they started alphabetizing it rude orz#I think the last one I saw was from somewhere else though bc it wasn't alphabetized and DINGO was 2nd from the top while I was way below#*shakes fist* HOW DARE YOU DINGO#I almost didn't wanna answer this ask I wanted to keep it because it gives me warm fuzzies thank you anon haha#the horrors never cease but fun little things like this make it easier <3#ask#answer#anon
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actualaster · 3 months
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Concept that would be funny if I could draw:
Creating in-universe memes for one of my original settings then drawing my blorbos referencing or reenacting said memes
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iwasbored777 · 1 year
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Bro is there really a debate if Miles Morales is Spider-Man lmfaoo what's even the point of the debate that's like questioning if Earth is round I can't even 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
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daily-whistlepaw · 1 year
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daily whistlepaw until b becomes PoV day 685
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whis with a (human) wristbrace
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transmandonnie · 1 year
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just realized once again that they never really seem to fight in any epic locations it really is just parking lot #1, The Quarry, parking lot #2, construction site #1 and construction site #2. sometimes there’s a bridge
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violent138 · 1 month
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I think it would be really funny if every time Dick and Jason joined missions they kind of failed upwards, even if they goofed off, or dredged up extremely personal shit, it helped with their secret identities or got them to think outside the box. There's always a disagreement on methods, someone gets kicked through a door but it's the right door and they stumble on all the evidence and the bad guys. Something that got set on fire was actually a secret message that only appeared upon heating, or they found evidence of the crime while trying to delete embarrassing CCTV footage.
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can you do a Tom Blyth x reader fic wherein they're doing a wired autocomplete interview?
Answering the Web’s Most Searched Questions || Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader
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A/n: this was so much fun to make! I apologies for this taking a bit to make hahahaha. Keep the Tom Blyth x reader requests coming 🙏
Warnings: nothing but reader n tom being such a wholesome couple
Wc:
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Divider by @pommecita
“Hi I’m Tom Blyth!” You smile at the camera. “And I’m Y/n Y/l/n” Tom waves to the camera as you both hold in your laughter but fail miserably. “And this is the wired autocomplete interview,” Tom clicks his tongue pointing to the camera.
“Who should go first?” You look to Tom as you see a glint of mischief in his eyes, “let’s paper scissor rock it?” He asks as you turn your body slightly to him. The next sped up montage was of the two of you playing paper scissors rock and not surprise that you won earning a groan from Tom as you are passed your board.
“Okay first one, who is y/n y/l/n……. dating?” You read it as you and Tom chuckle. “Who are you dating, Y/n?” Tom jokes as he looks at you quizzically. “It’s actually a secret,” You shrug, “Do I know this person?” Tom continues, “Yes actually, you are very familiar with this person,”
“Hmm, interesting,” Your boyfriend pretended to think about it as you wink to the camera, discreetly pointing to Tom beside you. “Moving on, Does Y/n Y/l/n have…… a pet?” “Yes I do actually, his name is tchai and he’s a spoodle. I bring him to set all the time and he just comes along and chills with us.” You say as an instagram post of yours pops up on the screen.
y/n_y/l/n
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Liked by tomblyth, hunterschaffer, rachelzegler, and 3,837,202 others
My boys 💗
tagged: @tomblyth
“Next one, can y/n y/l/n….. sing and act?” You laugh at this one as Tom does the same, leaning his head against yours. “Unfortunately I cannot sing and act. That’s not me in the tbosas film, that’s actually my stunt double that looks identical to me and it’s actually Tom that sings all of the songs” You give a thumbs up as Tom and the crew start laughing.
“Does y/n y/l/n have any tattoos? Yes! I actually have a matching tattoo with my boyfriend, it’s on my pinky and it’s half of a heart and he has the other half.” You put your hand up and point to it as Tom quickly puts his beside your pinky, his other half connecting with yours.
“Oh my god, Tom has the exact same one. What a coincidence!” You giggle, “Such a coincidence right?” He shakes his head. “What does….. y/n y/l/n look like? Well if you guys didn’t know, I look like this” You point to yourself as Tom places his palm under your chin with a grin.
“What was y/n y/l/n’s…… first acting role? My first acting role was in Billy the Kid that came out in 2022 and Tom here is actually plays the main character Billy.” You nudge his arm as he gives a thumbs up, “And I play Dulcinea which is Billy’s lover at one point.“ You answer before you start to peel off the last one.
“Does y/n y/l/n have… a child?!” Your jaw drops open as Tom laughs out loud. “Do I have a child? No! I’m still very young but I do plan on having children in the future. I do have a younger sister who is 4 so I think people mistake her for my daughter,” You let out a chuckle.
“Grace does very much look like you I do have to say,” Tom points out as you nod in agreement. “Yeah I have to agree with that aswell, probably why people think she is my daughter. Especially when Tom and I are taking care of her for a day, people always say what a lovely family we look,” You giggle.
~
“Finally my turn,” Tom says in excitement as he’s handed his board. “First one, How….. tall is Tom Blyth? That’s actually a good question uh-“ “For reference, I’m 5’3,” You say as Tom stands up pulling you with him. “There’s quite a height difference,” You laugh as you look up at him.
“I think I’d say around 6ft? Yeah, I’m pretty sure because Hunter is 5’10 and I’m abit taller than her. So yeah, 6ft.” “Next one, What is Tom Blyth’s…. Hidden talent?” Your eyes lock with Tom’s, “It’s not a hidden talent, but I am quite a good whistler.” “Yes! Tom is so good at it,” You nudge him, “Don’t make me do it,” He smiles, biting his lip as you give him a look.
“Do it!” “Okay, fine,” Tom then does the hunger games whistle, three fingers in the air as you watch in amazement. “I was really nervous then,” He chuckles as you laugh to yourself, agreeing.
“Does Tom Blyth…. Have a girlfriend? He says slyly as you look at the camera, “No. I do not have a girlfriend,” Hearing his words, you look at him and find him nodding his head as he says it which makes you smile at his silliness. “What a shame,” You pat his shoulder jokingly as he shakes his head, laughing.
“Lucky last, Is Tom Bltyh… a father? seriously, what is up with these questions?” He says in slight disbelief. “Are you?” You tease him, “Like Y/n, I get mistaken as her little sister’s father but no. I have no children,” “Your children would be so good looking,” You point out before you could really process it in your head.
Tom looks at you in surprise but laughs, “You think?” He maintains eye contact with you as you nod, almost in a trance as you stare into his piercing blue eyes that you could stare in all day. “Hmm, that’s good to know you think that, babe” His pet name for you slips out as your eyes slightly widen.
Tom quickly changes the topic when he realises. “Well that’s it from us today,” He says in a happy tone, “Thank you for watching this video!” “bye!” You both say in sync as you both throw the boards at the camera before it cuts off.
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queenofthequillandink · 6 months
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Steph's new roommate's little brother was absolutely a meta.
The two of them weren't really trying particularly hard to hide it, but they weren't mentioning it either, so Steph just... followed their lead. Especially because Jazz, while a little neurotic, was a pretty good roommate and new some truly innovative things to make in the microwave with whatever was in their dorm fridge.
But anyway, back to the meta thing. Steph could totally back it up.
Jazz was from the Midwest somewhere, one of the "I" states. (Indiana? Illinois? Iowa? Steph could never keep them straight.) From the way Jazz talked about her parents and the things she said to Danny, Steph could tell that the Fentons still lived there and Danny with them. Yet at least four nights out of seven, without fail, Steph would come home from a long night studying or vigilante-ing to find Danny in their dorm room, usually passed out on the futon. As though Gotham wasn't halfway across the country from Indiana or Illinois or Iowa.
"Our parents are pretty loud," Jazz explained with a quiet grimace, the first time it happened. "Like 'keep you awake at all hours of the night' loud. I told Danny he could sleep here when he needs to, is that okay? Tucker's parents are great, but they'll kick him out eventually."
"As a sleep-deprived college kid, I wholeheartedly support sleeping wherever you can get it," Steph whispered back. "As long as he doesn't eat my half of the food, I'm not gonna tattle to the RA."
"Thank you thank you thank you!" Jazz squealed, flapping her hands. Steph darted a glance at the teenager passed out on their futon, but he didn't even twitch. "Oh, don't worry, you have to be loud enough to wake the dead to get Danny up," Jazz said with a smirk.
"Alright. Makes things easier, I suppose," Steph said with a shrug, moving to sling her backpack onto her bunk. "He gonna be here in the morning?"
Jazz narrowed her eyes as though Elder Sister Glare could penetrate dreams. Hell, maybe it could. "He'll be at school before you wake up, if he knows what's good for him."
School. Which should be halfway across the country. Sure. Well, Steph could recognize a topic that Simply Wasn't Spoken About and unlike the rest of the Bats, she actually respected her roommate's personal privacy. "Cool."
So. Definitely a meta. Teleportation, maybe? Or superspeed or flying, she supposed. Whatever it was, the kid was clearly only using it to get a good night's rest in a safe space, so it wasn't really Steph's business.
At least neither of them had noticed she was a vigilante. It was an impressive secret to keep in such close quarters, if Steph did say so herself.
~*~
Jazz had clocked that Stephanie was Spoiler in a week and a half. And it only took her that long because she was distracted by orientation. The girl wasn't exactly subtle. Especially not with her injuries. Jazz had three years of experience watching someone come home injured and try to hide it, and while she was better than Danny, it still wasn't good enough.
Still, Steph wasn't making a big deal of Danny portalling into their dorm half of every week. And, like she had with Danny, Jazz wanted Steph to trust her enough to tell her herself.
And if this meant that Jazz spent a good portion of her first semester figuring out the rest of the Bats' identities based on Steph's friends and acquaintances, well. That was between her and Steph's scary-but-sweet girlfriend who read her like a book as soon as their eyes met.
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dragon-ascent · 3 months
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Zhongli feels like things are getting serious with you, so he decides to reveal to you his true identity. He'd initially wanted to wait for the perfect opportunity to do so, but this is the kind of band-aid that needs to be ripped swiftly. So, he sucks it up, sits you down one fine evening, and tells you his secret.
To say you're stunned is a grossly massive understatement. You look like you're about to combust, with the way you're shaking like a leaf.
"Oh, god..."
"Yes, precisely." Zhongli squeezes your hand calmly.
"Oh god oh god oh god..."
"Indeed a god, dear. But fret not-"
"You're here to punish me, aren't you?" you whine, crouching to the floor.
"Punish you?!" Zhongli raises an eyebrow, crouching to your level and placing a hand on your shoulder to steady you, though it barely helps with the way you're vibrating right now. "Whatever for?"
You're practically hyperventilating now. "So like, when I was in grade three, I promised my friend I'd lend her my color pencil, but I ended up not lending it because I didn't trust her clumsy ass not to misplace it! D-does that count as a contract unfulfilled?!"
Zhongli stares at you. "What..? No, that is hardly a-"
"Or," you wail, "that time I told my cousin we'd split a big cookie 50-50, but it was actually 55-45 in my favor on purpose?! Fairness was lost, wasn't it?! The contract became proof of my deception?!?!"
The poor ex-archon shakes his head. "No, emphatically no!"
It's like you're not even listening to him as you shamefully list off all the times you told lies, failed to make good on deals, and the like. "Please...forgive me! Don't punish me! I'm too young to face the Wrath of the Rock and die!"
Zhongli rocks you gently all night, reassuring you that he does not punish people for having not done homework when they were young.
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catmaid-san · 1 year
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I thought, WWX's suppose hidden identity as mxy actually must have been fallen apart once he met Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao.
Lan Da because he knew who is the person who could make Lan Wangji who has been looking like a widowed husband for 13 years, suddenly went back home in a high spirit, lol, needles to say, it must be the dead Wife come back to life! (Also, once he ask WWX "who are you?", and WWX truly pretended like he has never seen lxc, while possibly, lxc should have known mxy and vice versa, since after all Lxc often visit Jinlintai, just like he has seen and know xue yang the guest cultivator whereas mxy was not only mere disciple but jgy's younger bro, so they should have at least been introduced once. In addition, how could he not know the person who was said to "harass" His sworn brother?) Lol.
Jin Guangyao, because, well, it's like if Wen Qing saw her timid younger brother Wen Ning suddenly appears full of confidence and showing off his charm everywhere, lol. The changes of aura, facial expression, and mannerism, must have been so great that people dare not recognize it as the same person, lol.
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lendeah · 4 months
Text
Three times you take care of Astarion and one time he takes care of you
[ao3 link]
You were a caring person. That much was clear from the first moment you let him drink off you, almost to death. It was also clear when you tried to cool Karlach down with a rainy spell so you could hug her. Or give Gale every piece of magic item in your inventory so he could eat it. You enjoyed taking care of people.
However, taking care of Astarion wasn't an easy task. As much as you wanted to be there for him and help him, the vampire was a difficult person to handle. He was like a wild animal, constantly on edge and ready to lash out. It soon became clear that Astarion wasn't used to being on the receiving end of caring. Wasn't used for someone to care at all.
So you went little by little, as to not startle him. You started by simply spending time with him. Patiently listening to his endless complaints and blatant flirting, offering a sympathetic ear and a playful response, respectively. It was clear that Astarion enjoyed your company, even if he didn't always show it. He would often make snarky comments or sarcastic remarks, but you could tell that deep down, he appreciated having someone around.
Of course, you let him drain you dry every night, which honestly left you sick and tired through the day, but it was worth the glint in his eyes and the way his cheeks seemed to light up as if he was alive again.
You couldn't help but notice; he always had a book in his hands. Whether you were at camp or out on an expedition, he was constantly reading. So you began collecting every book you stumbled upon and leaving them on his bedroll for him to find when he returned to his tent. No matter the genre- whether it was a history book, poetry or even erotica- you always gifted them to him.
The first times, he would search around the camp in confusion, wondering who had left them there for him. But after the fifth or sixth book, the vampire's expression would light up with a secretive smile as he eagerly flipped through the pages. It warmed your heart to see him so engrossed in a story, his curiosity evident in his shining eyes. However, you kept your identity hidden: if he knew it was you leaving the books, he might become wary again and you didn't want to risk it after coming this far. This went on for a few weeks until one day, as you were leaving another book, a voice called out from behind you.
"Well, hello there. I suppose the game is up."
You froze, the book still in your hands, as you turned around to see Astarion standing with a sly smile on his face.
"I... erm, I just found these books lying around and thought they might be yours," you said lamely.
He smirked, eyes narrowing as if he saw right through your excuses. "Funny, I don't recall owning any of these books you are holding."
You blushed, avoiding his gaze. "Oh...I must have made a mistake then."
But Astarion just shook his head, walking closer to you until he was within arm's reach. "You think I don't know what you're doing? You haven't exactly been subtle, sweetheart."
You felt your face heat up even more, the blush reaching your ears.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as your voice came out a little squeaky.
Astarion chuckled. "Well, if I didn't know any better, I might suspect that you were trying to seduce me. If you wanted to come into my tent, all you had to do was ask, my dear."
"I-It... It's not like that!" you sputtered out, trying to avoid eye contact with him. "I just thought... you like reading."
"Oh, I do," Astarion said in a low voice. "Among other things."
You swallowed hard as your mind raced. Had he just... Was he implying what you thought he was implying?
"I-I should really get going," you said quickly, turning away from him and almost tripping over your own feet.
But before you could run off, Astarion's hand closed around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. "Wait," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. His expression was a bit serious, a stark contrast to the playful persona he usually wore. "Thanks for the effort. It's almost sweet, doing all this for me."
The two of you stood there for a moment longer before Astarion spoke up again.
"Perhaps we could have a little fun and read them together sometime?" he suggested with a raised eyebrow.
You smiled shyly at him, feeling butterflies in your stomach at his offer.
"I... I would love that," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice.
Astarion's smile widened and he released your wrist. "Wonderful. I look forward to it, my dear. And I do hope the next book is a good one."
You walked away from his tent, trying to convince yourself that the thumping of your heart was simply due to your love for taking care of others.
With each passing day, your meetings with Astarion in his tent became a familiar routine. You allowed him to feed on you, then spent time reading together from the books you had collected for him. It was also a chance for you to study him closely, searching for any other way to care for him. One night, as he read aloud to you, the soothing sound of his voice lulled you into a peaceful slumber, curled up on his bedroll next to him. The next morning, as sunlight flooded the tent, you woke up to find Astarion already awake, holding a book in his hands.
"Good morning," you said, rubbing the sleep off your eyes. "Sorry I fell asleep here."
Astarion raised an eyebrow at you. "No need to apologize. I must say, you look quite lovely when you're sleeping. Although you do not sound that lovely, but well, we can't all be perfect."
You rolled your eyes, then sat up stretching your limbs. As you glanced around the room, your eyes landed on the book in his hand - the one you two had been reading last night. It was almost finished now.
"Wait, you haven't slept?"
He let out a soft laugh.
"My dear, I am an elf. We do not sleep; we trance. And to answer your inquiry, no, I did not partake in that either. It's not something I typically find enjoyable."
You looked at Astarion with confusion and concern. "But... why? Don't you need to rest?"
He gave a casual shrug. "If I enter into a trance, the only memories accessible to me are my own life experiences. And let me tell you, those are not pleasant memories."
"But isn't there a way for you to... just rest? Without the memories, I mean?" You asked.
Astarion smirked, his eyes still fixed on the book in his hands. "Why bother learning how to sleep when I can trance instead?" he quipped "Trancing has always been my preferred method anyway."
You couldn't imagine what it was like, being forced to relive your trauma over and over again every night.
"I’m so sorry, Astarion," you whispered, your voice barely above a hush.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Oh well," he said, "It's all in the past now, isn't it? Just another part of who I am."
You nodded slowly but you couldn’t shrug off his words as easily as he could. You recalled the way he looked when he was trancing - peaceful and unguarded. It was hard to imagine that behind those serene features he was being haunted by his memories.
The day was a blur, as you struggled to maintain a cheerful facade and engage in small talk. However, Astarion's words continued to haunt you. As the evening progressed and you both followed your usual nightly routine, you made a decision to do something.
"Astarion." He turned to you, a curious look on his face. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage."I think we could try something different tonight. Do you trust me?"
Astarion looked at you as though surprised by the question, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes.
"Trust is a strong word, darling," he replied, a smirk forming on his lips. "But yes, I suppose I do trust you."
"Good," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart.
You cleared your throat as you settled into the bedroll, signaling for him to join you. Astarion raised an eyebrow but followed your lead, settling into the bedroll beside you.
"Rest your head on my lap," you instructed softly
Astarion's eyebrows shot up once more, but then he shrugged and followed your instructions. He cautiously rested his head on your lap, surprising you with his compliance. Sensing the tension in his body, you refrained from touching him yet, and instead reached for your bag. He watched you curiously as you took out a small jar.
"What's that?" he asked, his eyes glinting with intrigue.
"It's a special blend of herbs and oils that I use to help me relax and sleep better," you explained, opening the tub and taking out a small dab of the mixture. "Can I touch you?"
He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, before he answered, "Yes you may."
You rubbed the mixture between your fingers before gently massaging it onto his temples and forehead. You could feel him tense under your touch, probably not used to this kind of contact.
"Does it help?" he asked quietly, his eyes closed.
"It helps me," you replied honestly. "I'm not sure if it'll have the same effect on you, but I figured it's worth a try."
He nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," you replied, smiling back down at him. "Now just close your eyes and try to relax. Let your thoughts drift you away."
Astarion blinked, his long lashes fluttering against his pale skin. He looked at you with a mix of surprise and skepticism, clearly hesitant to follow your lead. But he didn't protest, didn't push your hands away. Instead, he nodded slightly, closing his eyes once more.
You watched him closely, noticing how the tension in his jaw gradually subsided and the creases on his forehead smoothed out little by little. You continued gently massaging his temples, the rhythmic movements soothing both of you.
The change in his demeanor prompted a fluttering sensation in your stomach that you hastily shrugged away, reminding yourself not to read too much into it.
Eventually, you started running your fingers through his hair and Astarion let out a contented hum, adjusting himself slightly in response. You could have sworn he was purring, and it seemed like he had fallen into a deep slumber.
By the end of the night, you were asleep with your hands still gently stroking his head.
From that moment, a subtle tension seemed to linger between the two of you. It was unspoken, but present every time you were alone together. Astarion would ask for your help to fall asleep each night, and without fail, he would drift off quickly and sleep soundly. You loved watching him relax under your touch, feeling his body go limp and his soft sleepy sounds. But more than that, you enjoyed drifting off with your fingers tangled in his soft curls, your heart feeling light and at ease in his presence.
However, the perils of your journey became worse as your party reached the Underdark. Your main concern became avoiding attacks from shadow monsters, leaving little room for any attention to whatever connection was building between you two.
One night, as you approached Astarion's tent, you noticed him sitting cross-legged in front of his small mirror. His brow was furrowed and his expression was one of deep contemplation. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should disturb him or not.
"Looking at something?" he suddenly asked.
You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to break the silence.
"How did you see me?"
"The only benefit to a mirror when you have my condition. It doesn't quite make up for the lack of a reflection, mind you."
And then it clicked. He couldn't see his own reflection. Why hadn't it occurred to you before?
"Do you miss it? Your own face, I mean."
Of course he did, what a stupid question.
"Preening in the Looking Glass? Petty vanity?" Astarion scoffed, "Of course I miss it."
Astarion's tone was bitter, his gaze fixed on his reflection-less face in the mirror. You sat down next to him, mirroring his position.
"I've never even seen this face not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red"
So he hadn't seen his face in over 200 years. You couldn't imagine what that must feel like. To not have seen your own face in over two centuries. To be unable to remember how it even looked like.
After your conversation, ideas began to circulate in your mind. You considered asking Gale to use his magic to transform your appearance to match his, but that would only be temporary. You wanted something more permanent that would allow him to admire his own face whenever he pleased. The thought of enchanting his mirror so that it would reflect his image crossed your mind. Surely there had to be a spell for that. However, time was limited and you were unsure how much you could dedicate to the task anyway. Then, an answer presented itself at the Last Light Inn when you encountered an artist on your way.
"How long would it take for you to paint a portrait?"
"Like, a month?"
"I will pay you triple if you finish it in a week."
Although the artist was hesitant, the promise of triple payment was too tempting for him to turn down. And so, a week later, you returned to Astarion's tent with a canvas in hand. He arched an eyebrow in question.
"What is this?" Astarion asked, gesturing towards your offering. "Another gift? At this rate, my tent will be overflowing with your generosity."
You grinned and gently set the canvas on the floor in front of him. A delicate, sheer fabric covered its surface.
"This is a special one, though."
His eyes glossed over with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as he leaned forward to unwrap it. An expectant silence filled the tent, the only sound being the rustle of fabric as he carefully lifted the veil. The sight that greeted his gaze left him momentarily speechless - an exquisitely painted portrait of a man, elegantly handsome with sharp, angular features and piercing red eyes.
"What is this?" Astarion asked with a chuckle, clearly admiring the artwork."You've given me a portrait of a handsome stranger? How thoughtful, dear. But the quality could be better, honestly."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you whispered, "That's you," holding your breath for his reaction.
There was a tense moment of silence as Astarion stared at the portrait. You couldn't quite read his expression, and your heart started to race with anxiety. Had you made a mistake? Was he displeased with the gift? Maybe you were intruding too much in his personal life...
After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally spoke. "This is... me?" His voice was barely above a whisper, almost disbelieving.
You nodded, tears welling in your eyes.
"Yes. I wanted you to have something that would allow you to see yourself again, so I asked an artist at the Last Light Inn to paint you."
His fingers traced over the painting, brushing lightly over the likeness of his own face, his own eyes - red now - but still his. He took a step back as if he'd been hit, staggering slightly. There was a moment where he just stood there, staring at the man in the portrait - at himself.
"Is this... is this how I look now?" He asks, voice barely audible.
You swallowed hard and nodded, "Yes."
"I..." he started, then stopped. Shaking his head, he turned towards you with a conflicted look in his red eyes. "I... don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," you told him reassuringly, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
He looked at you for a long moment before nodding and squeezing your hand back. A tear trickled down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away, but not before you saw it glistening in the dim light.
"Thank you," he said finally. It's quiet, almost lost in the silence of the tent, but the sincerity in his voice is unmistakable. You smiled at him, feeling a wave of relief and happiness wash over you.
"You're welcome," you whispered softly.
Astarion's crimson eyes shimmered with tears as he gazed at the painting, struggling to maintain his composure. You gave him a reassuring smile before turning around to give him some space to process his thoughts and feelings. But just as you were about to leave, he reached out and took hold of your hand, stopping you.
"Don't go" he said solemnly. "Please don't go... I'd like to... I want..." slowly, he stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug.
You were taken aback for a moment but then quickly melted into his embrace. After a moment of silence, the vampire spoke softly, his voice raspy.
"I don't know... how to repay you, I..." he murmured into your hair.
"You don't have to," you whispered back, feeling overwhelmed by his sudden display of emotion.
After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally pulled away slightly so that he could look into your eyes. His eyes were moist with tears, but they also held a glimmer of hope, happiness. You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a wave of warmth spread throughout your body from the simple touch. And in that moment, you realized just how deeply you had fallen for this man. It wasn't just a matter of caring anymore; you were deeply and irrevocably in love with him.
And you would tell him, you decided. You would let him know that he didn't owe you anything because you had acted out of love. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your veins. His eyes were still on yours, searching, questioning.
"Astarion...," you started, your voice soft and filled with emotion, "I need to tell you... I..."
However, just as you were about to spill your heart, the sound of someone calling for you pierced through the quiet atmosphere of the tent. With a sigh, you reluctantly untangled yourself from Astarion's arms.
"I'm afraid that's my cue."
He gave a silent nod, his eyes reflecting a mix of conflicting emotions.
"Sure, sure. Wouldn't want to interrupt your exciting duties as our esteemed leader."
You rolled your eyes with a small smile and got out of the tent. However, there was a feeling of disappointed and regret for not being able to express your true feelings to him. You made a mental note to tell him later when you had the chance.
But that night, Astarion didn't come to his bedroll. Nor the next one. Or the one following. You sensed he was putting some distance between you as if something had changed. He continued with his blatant flirting and sly remarks, of course. They just seemed... mechanical. Every time you tried to talk about your feelings, he would deflect or change the subject. Days turned into weeks and still nothing changed between you two. Astarion remained distant and aloof while you struggled with your own emotions, feeling confused and rejected.
One morning, you woke up with a heavy weight on your chest. You initially dismissed it as the usual feeling of sadness that had been lingering for a week now. But after a whole day of choking on your own breath and dizziness, mixed with a deep pounding in your head, you knew this wasn’t the case. Despite your condition, you pushed through the day, determined not to be seen as weak or unreliable by your group.
However, as time passed, it became increasingly difficult to hide your worsening state from everyone else. Your coughing spells were becoming more frequent, and your body was weakening rapidly. You could sense Astarion's worried stare on you from time to time, but he never approached you to inquire about your condition.
That all changed one morning when you couldn't even muster the strength to get out of bed. Your entire body was in pain and your fever was soaring. You heard footsteps approaching your bedrolls and prepared yourself for one of your companions coming to check on you (or more likely, tell you off). However, it was Astarion's smirking face that came into view.
"Well, well, well," he said with a teasing tone, "Seems like our fearless leader is not feeling so fearless anymore. Feeling lazy today, are we?"
You managed to roll your eyes, laying your arm back over them to shield from the morning sunlight peering in through a hole in the tent. "If by lazy you mean sick, then yes." Your voice was weak and raspier than usual. You coughed into your arm, the action causing your body to shake and shudder with discomfort.
"Hmm..." Astarion's voice was no longer teasing. "That doesn't sound good, darling."
His gaze was intense when he leaned down to press his hand against your forehead. You suppressed a shiver at the unexpected coolness it brought and tried to turn away from him. He didn't let you, pushing your hair away from your face with his other hand.
"You're burning up," he said, moving away from you but not before you saw the worry flash briefly in his eyes. He stood up abruptly and started pacing around your bedroll, "What can I do?" He asked more to himself than you.
"Nothing… I just need… rest..." You managed to respond before another coughing fit washed over you.
Astarion shook his head "I'm going to get Shadowheart and Halsin. They will know what to do."
Astarion hurried out of the tent, and surely a few minutes later he came back bringing your two companions. As Halsin handed you the potion and Shadowheart casted her healing spells, Astarion's hand brushed against yours briefly before pulling away.
"Thank you," you whispered weakly before passing out.
A few hours later, after resting and drinking more disgusting beverages than you could count, your fever had finally subsided a bit and your coughing fits were less frequent. Astarion stayed by your side through the whole ordeal, a comforting silhouette against the flickering candlelight. You closed your eyes and felt his cold hand soothingly stroke your forehead. The cool, comforting touch of his skin against yours was a relief from the fever heat radiating off your body.
"Feel any better?" Astarion asked, raising an eyebrow.
You attempted a smile, "Well, I'm not dead yet."
His lips twitched in response, a semblance of his usual smirk flickering across his handsome face. "Good. That would be inconvenient for my dietary needs."
Despite feeling weak and exhausted, you couldn't help but chuckle. It was a welcome distraction from the constant throbbing pain in your head and rattling chest.
He shifted awkwardly on his seat next to you, looking almost hesitant, before he started speaking again. "I... I was scared of losing you," he admitted, "And I have to confess something."
His usually confident and cocky demeanor was replaced with an almost childlike uncertainty.
"What is it?" You asked, your voice still weak but full of concern.
He sighed heavily before meeting your gaze.
"I had a nice simple plan; to manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. And honestly, I thought it would be so easy, with you being so open, so eager to care for everyone..." He frowns, "But that is the thing. You are so kind, so thoughtful. No one's ever cared for me the way you have. And... I don't know how to handle it."
You reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing it gently. "I understand," you said softly. "It's not easy to let someone take care of you, but you don't have to push me away. You deserve love and happiness just like everyone else."
He nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I want to try," he said, determination flickering in his gaze. "I want to let you take care of me. And I want to take care of you, if you let me."
You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words.
"Of course. But first, I feel like I need to tell you something too." You took a deep breath before continuing, "I...I think I'm falling in love with you."
He looked at you puzzled, before letting out a loud laugh.
"Oh, my love. I already knew."
You were taken aback by his words. "What? You did?"
He rolled his eyes "Dear, you were hardly subtle about it. A portrait? Essential oils? Come on..."
You couldn't help but laugh at his response, feeling relieved and embarrassed all at once.
"I guess I'm not as sneaky as I thought," you said, shaking your head.
"But I'm not better." He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I've been falling for you since the moment you started leaving books on my bedroll."
With that, he closed the distance between you and pressed his lips against yours in a soft kiss. It was like a spark igniting, sending waves of electricity through your body. In that brief moment, all the emotions and tensions that had been building between you seemed to dissipate into thin air. The softness of his lips against yours was like a warm embrace, melting away any doubts or fears you may have had.
When you both pulled away, you rested your forehead against his and whispered, "You are going to get ill now."
He chuckled, "How fortunate I am already dead then."
Yet, in that moment, the gleam of his eyes made him seem more alive than you had ever seen him.
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stillpanicking · 4 months
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Three Truths and a Lie.
"How about this, Nightwing... if you can figure out which is the lie, I'll tell you how I feel about you."
Smile. In and out of the mask, Nightwing felt confident in answering Jazz Fenton's questions. After several failed confessions, he hopes now is the time.
"My brother is half-dead, my parents are ghost experts, I know your secret identity, I'm fully human."
What.
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motherlvr · 1 year
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Your Morally Gray Neighborhood Spider-woman
SPOILERS FOR ATSV, this includes the plot of ATSV
Word count: 2.9k
Pairing: Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! Reader, Earth 1610! Miles Morales & reader
This is a continuation of Part 1 but may be read as a stand-alone. this will probably be the last part of this for now, thank you for reading!
Summary: During a minor identity crisis, you question your morals. Further adding to your list of problems, it seems like Miles has a twin brother he failed to mention to you.
Warnings: nothing too serious, established relationship with Prowler! Miles, possessive miles, Major spoilers for ATSV, not canon, minimal cursing, jealousy, reader is so silly sometimes, i got sappy at the end sorry, fluffy ending
A/N: just know that if u interact with any of my works then i literally love u with all my heart
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You weren't sure where your morals lie, but you assumed they were in the gray area. Matter of fact, you must be colorblind.
Could you even be considered a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman anymore? You were sure it was against your moral code to be dating a guy that you had previously described as a "cold-blooded killer." Who were you now? The Morally Gray Neighborhood Spider-woman? It wasn't nearly as catchy. Maybe you were an anti-hero now. Is it possible for a Spider-person to be an anti-hero? Surely not, you thought.
Interrupting your thoughts was the buzz of a phone. Miles' phone. You soon realized your present state, burrowed against your boyfriend on his bed. He had a suffocating grip on you, like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go. Letting you get a breath of air, he loosened his grip on you to check his notification.
He slowly unwrapped his arms from around you and started to rise from the bed. He pressed his lips to yours before saying, "Lo siento, mami. Uncle Aaron needs me." He started putting on his Prowler gear.
To be frank, you were sick and tired. You've heard the same excuse over and over from Miles. At this point, you didn't understand why he was being so cryptic. What secret is there to hide if you already know he's the Prowler?
"Miles, enough with that vague shit. You keep acting like you're Batman or something." You sass, rolling your eyes at him and laying up in his bed. It was surprising how much he let you get away with. If anyone else had said that to him, he'd claw their throats out, surely.
"Let me come with you, Miles." You suggested, immediately jumping off his bed to follow him. He didn't like that idea. Not one bit, and it was clear on his face. "Hermosa," Miles started, but you interrupted him, pointing a finger at his face. "You know damn well I am fully capable of protecting myself. Just let me into your life, Miles. I want to see what's so important that you have to go and ditch your girlfriend yet again." You dramatically sigh, hoping he'll cave. After a few moments, Miles eventually gave in. "Fine. C'mon, princesa." He sighed and gestured for you to follow him.
He led you to what seemed to be a sketchy, dull, and grimy basement. If he wasn't infatuated with you, you'd wonder whether he was plotting to murder you down here. Upon further inspection, it was actually an apartment. As your eyes scanned the eerie room, you noticed chains hanging on the walls and an abnormal amount of weapons. However, there was also a large flatscreen and a kitchen. You could only assume that this was their Prowler Cave.
Other than the random civilian tied up on a punching bag, it looked like a fairly normal room. Almost cozy, if you were being generous.
Speaking of, why was there some poor boy restrained on a punching bag? You could barely see him due to the punching bag being larger than him, but from your current standpoint, you could only assume he was around your age or younger.
Miles stepped in front of you, holding a hand out to prevent you from taking a step further. Curling your lip in a frown, you shooed his hand away and continued walking, but stopped before the hostage could spot you. He stayed behind, lurking in the corner.
Miles' uncle greeted you both, "I've got a surprise for y'all." Apparently, Miles had let his uncle know in advance that you were welcome into his Prowler cave.
Miles, ever loving his dramatic entrances, jumped down from the corner he was lurking in. You had to stifle your laugh.
Uncle Aaron rotated the punching bag, revealing the unfortunate boy that got restrained upon it. Your jaw fell to the ground. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. How was this possible? You started to wish you had paid attention during Physics.
Attached to the punching bag was a near-identical copy of your beloved boyfriend. His eyes were wide full of fear, and for a second, you felt pity for him. Uncle Aaron left the room, leaving only you and the two Miles.
"Your dad is still alive?" Miles asked his impersonator, astonishingly unfazed by the fact that there was a copy of him staring him directly in his eyes. "What?" The impersonator questioned. "Your father, you said he's still alive." Miles repeated, his voice piquing with interest. "Yeah." The copy replied in a low voice. His face had no remnants of fear, it morphed into confusion instead. "Who are you?" The fake Miles asked, his eyebrows furrowing. He reminded you of your boyfriend in that way.
Your dearly beloved Prowler opened his mask, "I'm Miles Morales. But you, you can call me the Prowler." He said, his accent exposing. Those simple two sentences had more of an effect on you than they should have.
"If I don't go home, our dad is going to die." The fake Miles says with fear in his voice. "Your dad." Miles interjects coldly, lacking sympathy. The hope was slowly fading from the other Miles' face. He shook his head and said, "Please, you have to let me go." with more assertiveness than before. Your boyfriend leaned closer to the fake, "Why would I do that?" he inquired.
Deciding to interrupt their stare-down, you stepped out of the darkness and made yourself known to the fake Miles.
His face lit up with recognition. He whispered your name, "Is that you?"
"First off, how do you know my name?" You questioned, raising a confused brow. This whole situation was starting to creep you out. As you stepped closer to him, both of your spider-senses went off.
"You're like me." You both said in unison.
Your boyfriend was watching this interaction, narrowing his eyes. The fake Miles was only giving your boyfriend more reasons to keep him confined here.
"Look, you've got to help me. In my universe, you were my girlfriend too. Except you weren't Spider-woman. Don't you have a sense of morality? Hasn't anyone told you that with great power comes great responsibility?" The poor guy was practically begging you. You were sure that if he wasn't tied up on a punching bag, he'd be on his knees pleading with you. Which would be a fun sight to watch, you think.
You scoffed at the fake Miles Morales and replied, "You said it wrong. It's, with great ability comes great accountability." Rolling your eyes. This impersonator couldn't even get the quote right.
"That's not-" He cut himself off. "Whatever. You've got to help me, please." The fake Miles pleaded with you. He started to glitch, this universe was taking a toll on him already. As you stared into his eyes, he reminded you of a miserable, dejected puppy. Unbeknownst to you, the less-menacing Miles Morales was only stalling to charge up his venom strike.
Fortunately for him, he didn't need to resort to his venom strike just yet. That would only make this situation harder for him to get out of. He wasn't planning on getting on the bad side of another Spider-person.
"I think we should help him." You broke the silence, turning to your Miles. He was about to argue with you when you continued, "Not only because he's a fellow spider-person, but also because it's harder to resist someone when they look exactly like you, Miles." You grinned, teasing him.
As always, Miles couldn't deny you. He growled to his other self, directing the clone's attention away from you. "You're lucky my girl was here to save you this time, spider. I would've had no issue leaving you here to watch you rot."
As you untied Miles from the punching bag, he mouthed a "Thank you" to you and said,
"Do you guys happen to have a watch that can teleport me back home?" in all seriousness. It was almost comical. "No, but maybe I could help you out." You responded. "I have a good friend, Peter Parker. He's a scientist that specializes in quantum physics, I bet he could help. He works at Alchemax." His eyes seemed to lighten, "You know a Peter Parker?"
On the way to Alchemax, your boyfriend decided the phony version of himself was getting too comfortable with you. He was asking you way too many questions such as,
"How did you become Spider-woman?" The same way you did, Miles.
"How long have you been Spider-woman?" Ever since I got bit by a spider.
"Why are you with the Prowler?" He's not such a bad guy. A few seconds passed and you said, Nevermind. But that's what makes it exciting. You wink at him.
And that's when your lover decided to step in. He interrupted whatever Miles #2 was going on about. "Shut up for once." He snarled at him, towering over his clone. Within a second, your boyfriend had his copy in his grip with his razor-sharp claws in his face, a warning. You noticed sparks flying from the other Miles' fingertips. Why don't I have electric powers? You pondered. Not wanting to witness a homicide today, you pulled your boyfriend away before he could get the chance to slaughter himself. Or at least the morally good version of himself.
Your Miles snaked his arm around your waist possessively. He glared at the other Miles through his screen mask, but you were sure Miles #2 felt his sinister stare. He and you were walking a few paces ahead of his duplicate.
Some days, you weren't sure whether you wanted to kiss him or throttle him during his sleep. Although you couldn't deny that a part of you liked seeing him like this.
“Settle down, babe. He’s not my type.” You reassured him. He almost felt appeased, until he rethought your words. “Not your type? Mami, we look almost identical.” Your Miles said with irritation in his tone. You laughed at his confusion as you shook your head.
Although they were nearly identical in appearance, you noticed clear differences. For instance, your Miles had an intimidating and menacing presence. While the other Miles had more of a "Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man" energy to him.
"No, I mean, he's a little too dorky for me." Your boyfriend seemed to approve of your response, gazing at you. You shivered under his watch.
“I heard that." Miles #2 muttered, following behind you two.
Miles’ gaze was still set on you. He didn’t intend on breaking it any time soon. Although you couldn't exactly see his eyes, you could feel his stare. Nervously glancing the other way, you avoided eye contact. Because you knew that if you looked at him again, you'd pull him in and wouldn't be able to pull away. You felt like you were pinning for him all over again.
You glanced back at him, "Miles, stop staring at me. I might kiss you.” In an instant, his mask was off. He pulled you into a searing kiss, cupping your head with his hands. You reciprocated immediately.
His kiss was demanding and forceful. You could hear the thump of your heart, increasingly becoming louder. It was only a few moments long but felt like forever. He pulled away sooner than you'd liked, leaving you desiring more. “Had to show him that you’re my girl. Sólo mía. Right, princesa?” He stared into your eyes, making your heart pound impossibly faster. You cheekily nodded, the words being lost on your tongue. Miles smirked in satisfaction and closed his mask as you all approached Alchemax.
You strode into Alchemax like it was your second home and looked for Peter's office. Your boyfriend treaded right by your side, while the other Miles strayed behind you like a lost puppy. Which essentially, he was.
Successfully finding Peter's door wide open, you knocked. He looked up from his pile of work. Peter greeted you with a smile, "Come on in. It's great to see you, kid. But, uh, why is the Prowler in my office?" He said to you, his voice barely above a whisper. The Prowler in question was menacingly yet quietly standing in the corner of Peter's office.
Peter looked slightly green, but you consoled him. "Oh, don't mind him. He's my boyfriend." You shrugged. Peter shot you an extremely concerned look, judging your taste in guys, no doubt.
You simply smiled and patted him on the shoulder, "But anyway, Peter. This is Miles, he’s from a different dimension." You pointed at Miles, who stood stiffly next to you.
"We were hoping you could help us create an inter-dimensional teleporter. Or rather, a watch that can jump universes?" You told Peter.
The scientist seemed fascinated by this information about the multiverse. “That's a specific request. Lucky for you guys, I've been working on a prototype. Be wary that it is just a prototype, so there's no guarantee it'll work." Peter said.
"Great! I just have to make sure I get out of here before I either glitch to death or Miguel and his spider-team show up to beat me to death." Miles awkwardly said, scratching the back of his head. His glitching issue was getting worse the more time he spent in your universe.
Spider-team? No one's ever told you about this. If this "Spider-team" really did exist, why weren't you invited? No, you take that back. You could name a couple of reasons why you weren't invited, starting with your boyfriend who was standing next to you in his full Prowler suit. This is what you deserve for not being a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman, you sigh.
"Let's hope this works then." Peter says with an unsure tone. He cuffs the watch around Miles' wrist and changes the settings.
Silence falls upon the room as you all observe the watch flash for a moment, and then go dim again. How anti-climactic.
"Oops, sorry guys. Wrong settings." Peter Parker awkwardly laughed and fumbled with the watch again, and then said "Alright, this one should work."
Suddenly appearing to your right is a captivating portal of sorts. It was in the shape of multiple hexagons and had an orange hue. You couldn't take your eyes off of it, you'd never seen something so alluring. Other than your boyfriend, that is. You chuckled at your inner monologue.
Peter was ecstatic, “The other scientists doubted multiversal travel existed, but this is a critical discovery in the history of science!”
Miles, the Spider-Man one, was bewildered. He could finally go home and save his father. “Dude, this is awesome! I can't thank you guys enough. Maybe I'll see you guys again sometime." He smiled, referring to Peter and you.
Miles #2 seemed to be leaning in for a hug when your boyfriend interjected. He stood in front of you and glared at the phony version of himself, "Not too friendly now." he scowled.
“Chill, man! I didn’t mean it like that!" Instead, Miles gives you a two-fingered salute and fist-bumps Peter. "See you around." He finally says, jumping into the portal and wasting no additional time.
The portal closed behind him and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Maybe you weren't a morally gray neighborhood spider-woman after all.
Who were you kidding? You're dating a murderous asshole. You must've been guilty by association.
You just hoped that the dorkier version of your boyfriend made it to his universe, and wasn’t sent to a completely different one yet again.
Shaking off the thoughts, you told the scientist, "Thank you, Peter! You were a big help." You hugged Peter and waved him goodbye. "Anytime, kid." He replied. Your prowler followed you out, his hand settling on your waist.
As you returned to Miles' house, you sat on his bed with him and said, "You know, your cooperation has to count for something. Even if you were just brooding the whole time."
"I'm the Prowler. I wasn’t brooding, ma.”
"Whatever you say." You rolled your eyes at him. "Anyway, you didn't kill him, so that's a start. I'm proud of us!" You gleamed at him as you mentally patted yourself on the back.
"You know I love you, ma. But you talk too much." Miles said, pulling you by the waist into his embrace.
You knitted your eyebrows as you replied, "Babe. It runs in every Spider-person. Didn't you hear how-" This time, Miles was the one shutting you up by pressing his lips to yours in a surprisingly soft kiss. His gentle lips moved against yours, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch.
You smiled into the kiss, deepening it. You didn't need words to show him how deep your affection for him lies. If you could, you'd freeze time to forever stay in his hold.
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Dating the public’s enemy number one had to be diminishing your PR. Not that you had one, anyway.
Initially, you worried that your terribly different lifestyles would inevitably lead to the end of your relationship. The Prowler and Spider-woman was an unlikely combination, after all. You snuck out at night to fight crime and restore justice, while he snuck around with his uncle to be a hitman of Kingpin. But you loved him like no one else could.
He invoked emotions in you that you weren't completely familiar with. Your mind was consumed by thoughts of him. You couldn't breathe with him around, nor could you control how fast your heart throbbed. But you would gladly suffocate if he was the one taking your breath away.
And you had a feeling that your sentiment wasn't unrequited.
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hermosa - beautiful
lo siento - i'm sorry
sólo mío - only mine
princesa - princess
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