#Also really like the spot but have no interest drawing him? maybe later

[polararts]

OOops wooops woops oopksdfj Get em here

#across the spiderverse #spider punk #pavitr prabhakar #miles morales #hobie brown #peter b parker #gwen stacy #art #fanart #spiderman #charms? #charms?? #it's a preorder bc I don't have the money to keep up with these ideas #no miguel bc I don't like him lmao #Gwens band only #Also really like the spot but have no interest drawing him? maybe later

[threadbaresweater]

one warm day is all i really need | arthur morgan x reader

Arthur doesn't think you're interested in him any more than you're interested in fishing, which ain't much. You hope he shares even an inkling of the feelings you have for him. It's no surprise to anyone else in camp that there's something between the two of you, and they make sure you get a chance to show each other how you really feel.

The details: 3.9k words. Female reader with a backstory that isn't really elaborated upon in this fic but might be at a later date if I have the spoons; several gang members act as side-characters/wingmen (and women); alcohol and cigarette use; sex (pretty vanilla, but a little rough and intense). NSFW. This is also my first fic for a new fandom, so please be gentle with me. It's been a while.

Arthur first notices your eyes on him one evening around the campfire at Shady Belle. He won’t accuse you of staring– Lord knows he’s been known to look at you with the same foolish grin you’re wearing now– but he tips his hat to acknowledge you. The heat in your cheeks is suddenly warmer than what the fire has already provided; your grin only grows until your teeth are showing, and you duck your head into your shoulder to hide. Arthur takes a long swig from his whiskey bottle and grimaces as it goes down. He hasn't had a drop of anything in days, and the burn takes a little while to grow numb to now. 

“Think she's sweet on you, Morgan,” Sean says in his Irish lilt, giving Arthur an elbow in the ribs. 

“Naw, she's lookin’ at you,” Arthur deflects, though he hopes he's wrong. He thinks he knows.

“She told me last week to keep my eyes on my own work,” Sean continues. “I really don't think it's me she wants, Arthur.”

You turn to whisper something to Sadie, who laughs out loud with her face tilted toward the stars. You dare a glance back at Arthur, who is, in fact, looking at you.

Maybe there's some truth to what Mary Beth told you yesterday.

“Arthur's been awful quiet lately.”

The sun shines through the trees and dapples the table where you're seated with bright spots of pale yellow. It's your third round of dominoes with Mary-Beth, and she's whooping your ass, as usual. You don't know how she does it, but each game you play, you're a little more privy to her prowess. 

“You think so? I don't know him as well as you.” You hope it isn't obvious that your heart started beating a little faster at the mention of his name. It leaves you breathless.

“Oh yeah,” Mary-Beth continues. “He's been scratchin’ away in that journal of his a lot more, too.” She leans closer, conspiratorial, her eyes twinkling with the gossip she's about to share. “Karen said he went to town twice last week to have a hot bath. If you knew Arthur like I know Arthur, why…you'd know that's highly out of character for him.”

“But you said he'd been quiet. Is that unusual for him, too?”

She hums and purses her lips. “Well you see, Arthur isn't usually a man of many words on a good day. But it's been real bad lately. He don't even give John a hard time like usual.”

You ponder the dominoes for a moment and then make your move. It doesn't earn you any points, but at least you didn't have to draw. “What do you think the problem is?” you ask, nonchalant as possible.

Mary-Beth smiles. Big and bright and sparkling. “Oh, it's not a problem at all.” She lowers her voice and cups her hand to her mouth. “Arthur's in love.”

You gasp, then giggle behind your hand, and Mary-Beth follows suit. Hosea looks on and shakes his head, so you quiet down, reaching across to grab Mary-Beth's hands. “Who do you think it is?” 

Her cheeks are tinted pink, and she looks around to make sure there aren't any ears to hear. Word travels fast around camp if one isn't prudent. “I think it's you.”

A thunderstorm rips through Shady Belle a little over a week later. Your little tent that you share with Sadie is ripped straight off its supports in a terrible gust of wind, and you and the others hightail it inside the house to take cover just as it begins to hail. There's quite a ruckus as everyone huddles inside, windblown and rain-soaked. A few of the men hold up lanterns to illuminate the darkness while you watch the lightning and feel the thunder shake the old bones of the house. 

“Everyone just calm down,” Dutch calls, descending the stairs, wearing some ridiculous robe with his arms spread wide. “Are we really gonna let a little old thunderstorm keep us from getting a good night's sleep?”

“Says the man with a bed inside the house,” Arthur bites, rounding the corner from what used to be the kitchen, holding a lantern up high in front of him. “Dutch, you better allow these ladies to take cover in here for tonight, or I'll–”

“Or you'll what, Mister Morgan? Pray tell, what kind of man do you take me for?” Dutch's eyes are fiery as he stares Arthur down; a display of dominance. A veritable cockfight. 

Arthur's jaw twitches, but he doesn't back down. “The kind of man I should hope would have some goddamn respect for his family.”

There's a tense moment or two where everyone is quiet, then Dutch relents. “Fine, fine! But I expect everyone out there pitching in to clean up in the morning.” He points at Arthur and raises his voice again. “That includes the other man with a bed inside the house,” he sneers. 

Arthur shakes his head, then looks away only to catch sight of you, shivering in your wet undergarments, huddled close to Mary-Beth for what little warmth the two of you can share. For a minute, he forgets to breathe, then composes himself enough to cross the room.

“Come on in here. Get yourself warm and dry by the fire.” His hand on your elbow is rough but warm as he leads you toward the fireplace. You nod and look back at Mary-Beth, who shoos you away with a flick of her wrist and a wink; you notice that her teeth are chattering. Despite the humidity that hangs heavy in the air, the temperature has turned chilly with the storm.

Arms crossed over your bosom to preserve any shred of modesty you might have left, you allow yourself to be led away by Arthur. Dutch and some of the others head upstairs while Charles and Javier keep watch from the front porch. 

“You alright?” Arthur asks. He covers your shoulders with one of his heavy winter coats, and you pull it around you, grateful for the weight and warmth of it. Another clap of thunder shakes the house and you jump. Arthur chuckles.

“You laughin’ at me?” you quip, placing your palms flat in the direction of the fireplace. You don't even bother to hide the grin you feel curling on your lips. 

“No madam, I am not,” Arthur says earnestly, taking a seat beside you on the old wooden crate he's set up as a makeshift bench. 

“Then just what do you find so funny, Mister Morgan?”

He scratches the back of his neck, looking into the flames. “Aw, I dunno. I'm sorry. It's just that you're…” 

You bump him with your hip, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up from your chest. “I'm what?” you pry.

There's a clatter of something falling on the front porch, and Arthur uses it as a good excuse to get out of this hole he's dug for himself. “I better go see what's going on out there. Charles might need my help.” 

“I'm what, Arthur?!” you call, to no avail. He's gone before he can see the proverbial hearts in your eyes.

The saloon in Rhodes is a little nicer than the ones you visited in Valentine, though it's a far cry from the ones you used to frequent in Saint Denis. Still, when Sadie and the other girls decide that it's high time you have a little fun in town, you throw on your best dress and let Karen curl your hair and even apply a little of the makeup you snagged from a homestead up north. For the first time in months, you feel like a proper woman. There isn't time to be melancholy about the past, though, when the boys start whistling and cat-calling upon the sight of you and the other girls.

“Aw, knock it off!” Sadie hollers. She's decided to dress up a little tonight, too, much to everyone's surprise. But she hikes up her skirts to hop into the wagon, calling for the rest of you all to hurry it up. “I've got a bottle of rum with my name on it that's waiting for me to come drink her all down!”

You catch the sunset on the way to town. It's dazzling over the meadows, all golden light and warm, blazing oranges and reds that settle into a brilliant pink by the time your reach the main road into Rhodes. You wish you could see Arthur's eyes, but he's got a handle on the reins next to Charles in the front of the wagon. You've seen him watching the sunset before; he always looks so peaceful those evenings at camp, and you often wonder what he thinks about in those few minutes before the horizon is painted in pastel hues.

Karen starts singing a song that everyone eventually joins, and before you know it, you're pulling up in front of the Rhodes Parlour House. You can already hear the piano and a few voices from outside; the sound of it stirs something in your soul that makes you long for the familiarity of home, but you quickly shove it aside in favor of the company of your new family.

“Madam.” Arthur's voice brings you out of your thoughts and back into the present, where he waits at the back of the wagon with his hand extended to you. You beam at him, and he feels dizzy. And when your soft hand fits into his, he straightens his knees so they don't buckle and betray him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirts to step out onto the dirt road. 

Arthur leans in, dangerously close to your ear. You can smell the whisky and cigarettes on his breath, along with the faint tang of gunpowder and hair pomade. “You sure do look nice in that dress.”

You demure and fan yourself with your hand. “Just how much have you had to drink already tonight?” you giggle.

“Ahh, just a little nip to take the edge off.” 

“Mm-hm. Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say.”

The night starts off relatively calm, as most nights do. You and the other girls find an empty table to sit and pick up on the town gossip, and the men start a hand of poker. It grows loud and crowded sometime around midnight, and it's hard to have a conversation without shouting over the din of voices, the clink of glass bottles, and the slow drag ragtime music from the piano. The ambiance is charming and lighthearted, and there are even a few couples drunkenly dancing on the porch.

You push back in your chair and find that when you stand, you're a little more wobbly than you thought you would be. The alcohol has loosened you more than you realize, and you grip the table for support until you feel a firm arm around your waist. “Whoa there.” 

It's Arthur, who has won the last round of poker and has come to check in on you and the other ladies. You're pulled tight against his chest for one fleeting moment, and you look up into his eyes. He, too, seems drunk, with his eyes gleaming and drooping at the corners, his smile easy and his cheeks flushed. 

“My knight in shining armor,” you slur, pretending to faint in his embrace. He only pulls you tighter against him, both of his broad hands splayed across your back. You laugh, and he smiles.

“You weren't getting another drink, were ya?” he questions with a raise of his brow.

“‘m thirsty,” you whine, lifting your empty glass entirely too close to his face. It knocks against his nose, which sends you into another fit of laughter.

Arthur takes your wrist– gentle but firm– and lowers the glass away. “Think you need to drink something that's not whiskey,” he drawls. You can't help but watch the way his lips form around the words; the slip of his tongue between his teeth, the way his mouth turns up into the hint of a smile when you pout. Before you can think too long and hard about it, you lunge forward and kiss him. Hard and clumsy and impulsive. You don't give him time to react. You're far too involved in the kiss to notice, but the girls at the table behind you have all gone silent. Arthur slides his hand along the side of your face and presses his fingers upon the nape of your neck, kissing you back like he really means it. (He really does.)

You pull back suddenly, breathless and reeling, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You're still held firm in his embrace, but the playfulness in his gaze has been replaced with an intensity that makes your knees weak all over again.

“What'd ya do that for?” he asks.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, you started it.”

“And you finished it.”

“Oh, I ain't finished with you, yet.”

“That a promise or a threat?” Your pulse is thumping wildly in your ears.

“Ya know, they got rooms upstairs for that!” Sadie shouts. There's a ripple of laughter across the table. Arthur's hand on your cheek feels like a brand, his arm about your waist an anchor. The rest of the room comes back to you in a woozy blur, and you look around, a little lovestruck and a whole lot drunk. Arthur's lips at your temple make your eyes flutter shut, and the room fades to black as tIt'weight of you slumps against him. He staggers only slightly, but holds you firm, chuckling softly.

“It's a promise,” he whispers.

You come to some hours later. Your mouth is dry as the desert, your head feels like lead, your skin broken out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. At some point, it seems you were covered with a downy soft blanket, and the pillow at your head is much more fluffy than the makeshift one you made out of a bedroll at camp. At first, you think you're dreaming. Then, you wonder very briefly if you're back at your childhood home in Saint Denis. You almost call out to your mother when you hear a soft snore from the other side of your bed. 

The room spins when you turn your head, and you rub your eyes until Arthur comes into focus. He's sprawled in an armchair a few feet away. His arms are crossed over his chest while his chin is tucked into his chest. Off to the side, you spy his boots; his big toe pokes through a hole in his sock and you smile at how vulnerable he looks.

“Arthur,” you whisper, shifting slightly as you pull the blanket up around your chin.

He grunts and lifts his head slowly. He frowns a little at first, but when he focuses on you lying there, so close he could reach out and kiss you again like he did last night, there's a slow, easy smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey there, party girl. You feeling alright?”

You could kick yourself for all the giggling you've done around him lately, but you can't help it. He brings out something giddy and downright foolish inside you, so you toss a pillow at him and bury your face in the sheets.

“Aw, come on now. I'm just messin’ with ya.” He leans forward and rubs your head affectionately. “I'd say you were feeling pretty good last night.”

It's in that moment a white-hot jolt of sheer panic shoots down your spine. Quickly, you check to make sure you're still wearing clothes. Aside from your breasts being a little lopsided in the confines of your bodice, you're relieved to find that your dress is still intact and– more importantly– on your body. You dare another peek at Arthur and notice that his shirt is unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest and he's discarded his vest somewhere, but he, too, is fully clothed. Thank the good Lord above. 

You must've said that last part aloud, because Arthur laughs. “Don't worry, nothing happened. Though it weren't for lack of tryin’ on your part,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought I was gonna have to lock you in here like some feral cat till you settled down.”

Oh. Oh Lord. You try to recall what happened that led you to this room, but all that comes to mind is a lot of loud conversation, some dancing, a spilled drink across Sadie's lap, and Arthur's hand on the side of your cheek. “Oh…”

Now you remember it in vivid detail.

“Didn't know you cared for me like that,” he says. It's earnest and tender, a few shades less intense than the kiss you now recall, the one where it felt like he wanted to eat you alive right there in the middle of the saloon. Now, he thumbs your cheek and looks at you so fondly you swear your heart jumps right up in your throat. “I mean, I'd been hoping. Wasn't sure you was looking for a romance.” He huffs a short sigh, frustrated with himself. “Aw, hell, what am I saying? ‘Course you weren't. You're just looking to survive, just like the rest of us, and here I–”

“Shut up,” you say, taking hold of his hand and tugging him closer. He resists until you pull even harder, watching the fire in your eyes blaze to life. “You talk too much, Yankee.”

“I ain't no damn–”

“Kiss me.”

He's over you in an instant; you're pressed flat against the bed, completely and totally at his mercy. This kiss feels different than the drunken one last night. It's sober and honest, if not a little hesitant, as if he's holding himself back from devouring you wholly. The warmth of his body against yours takes your breath away. Or maybe it's the way his tongue laves heavy into your mouth, unashamed of how badly he craves the taste of you. You grip his hair at the roots and tug him down to kiss him harder, lifting your upper body to meet him until he presses down, his chest flush with yours. 

Things get heated quickly.

His mouth moves across your cheek, down your neck, and he groans against your skin, rutting his cock against your thigh. You fleetingly wish that he had managed to get you out of that dress before he presumably tucked you into bed and passed out in that chair, because there’s a whole lot of fabric between you and him that really pisses you off right now. Arthur must feel much the same, because he’s bunching your skirts up past your knees while you’re fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him against you, inside you. It’s clumsy and crazed, rushed and rough, but you manage somehow to shuck off every last bit of your clothes and his until you’re breathless and so, so eager beneath him.

“Need you now,” you whine. You feel insane. Dizzy and dehydrated, impossibly turned on, every nerve ending on fire when his callused hands grip the fat of your thighs and open you to him. 

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” One of his hands slips between your legs to find you wet and swollen. He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and pushes a finger inside you; the sound you make nearly has him finishing there on the sheets, so he wastes no time in getting himself as close to you as humanly possible. 

“Never wanted something so bad,” he murmurs into the dip of your shoulder. He wants all of you– all at once– wants to fuse his hands against your skin and sink himself into you so deep that it would be impossible to tell where he ends and you begin. The heat from his body takes away what little breath you have left, his mouth on each part of your body building the buzz in your chest until you feel like you might just burst open. You grab at each other like it's the first and last time you might have this opportunity, as if you want more than what the other of you is able to give.

Considering the kind of life you’ve both led so far, it’s a good possibility that you might never get to do this again.

“Give it to me,” you plead, opening yourself further to him, fingers wrapped firm around the base of his cock. “Please.”

Arthur Morgan is a man of incredible strength and self restraint, except when it comes to a woman like you.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. It’s primal, sweaty, filthy, rough. Arthur pushes as far inside you as he can go, then pushes further when you beg for more. He cups your knees with slick palms and presses you open as far as you can bend; you tug roughly at his hair and bite down on his shoulder when the pleasure builds to a blinding ferocity. The wooden bedframe knocks angrily against the wall with each thrust, but you can’t bring yourself to care if anyone hears. You can’t focus on anything beyond the feeling of him filling you with every stroke of his cock, of the taut, corded muscle in his back and shoulders as you grapple to hang on as tight as you can. Your orgasm hits your hard and fast, and he encourages you through it, taking his time to give you long, controlled strokes. It’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you. “‘Atta girl,” he rasps, lips moving against your ear. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries, but he pulls it away and threads his fingers with yours, pressing it onto the pillow. “I wanna hear it.”

Your moans are what drive him over the edge.

He buries his face against the side of your neck, panting heavily as he comes, driving into you so hard that you can almost feel the mattress beneath you begin to sag under the weight. You cradle his head in your hands and link your legs around his waist, boneless and languid in the aftermath of your own pleasure. When he moves, you move with him, riding out the waves together until you’re both too tired to move another muscle.

Neither of you speak for a while. He lies on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you curl against him, tuned into his heartbeat and swirling little patterns into the hair on his chest. It’s comforting to feel him next to you, to watch his chest rise and fall as he steadies his breathing, to soak up the warmth of his skin against yours. 

You’re the first to break the silence. “Did everyone else go back to camp last night?”

Arthur nods slowly. “Something tells me they planned all this.”

“Planned it? You mean…” You lift your arm slowly and flick your wrist to acknowledge the room you’re laying in. “This?” You lift your chin and grin at him. “Or getting us together?”

“Room was paid for before I even had a chance to ask if they had one,” he explains. “Think it was Mrs. Adler.”

You vaguely recall her shouting something about a room after you kissed Arthur last night, and you shake your head. “You complaining?”

He turns to his side, draping an arm across your hip. “Me? Never.” You’re suddenly pressed beneath him once again; from the looks of it, you won’t be getting out of this bed anytime soon. “Specially when I’ve got you here to help me keep warm.”

#arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader

[sim0nril3y]

hii, I LOVEE your Simon x civilian! reader series!

I was thinking maybe of Simon finding readers scketchbook and discovering that it s pretty much filled with him? maybe reader has some drawings of a favourite picture of the both of them that s also colored with little hearts?

please and thank you! <3

Thank you thank this is actually so CUTE! I absolutely LOVE the thought of this, like I’ve actually be dreaming about it!

There would be times when Simon would catch you watching him. Like, he would be making a tea, putting the dishes away or sharing out the take-away you’d ordered between a couple plates when he’d feel that eery sense of being watched. Glancing over his shoulder he’d spot you just observing him with great interest, sketchpad in your lap and the moment Simon was aware your eyes would dart away and continue to focus on your pencil against the page.

You had been so happy to show him so much of your art, but that sketchbook in particular was on that you had very clearly kept to yourself. Each time he would pick it up you were overly protective and practically snatched it back, hiding it behind the sofa or throwing it into a drawer. “You hiding something from me?” He quirked a brow and you pressed a soft hand to your chest and replied. “Not at all. Cuppa?” You always seemed to pull his attention away quick enough that he’d drop it.

It was a few nights later that Simon spotted that sketchbook again left vulnerably on your coffee table whilst snoozed, cutely curled up on the sofa beside him, head resting on the arm of the chair whilst your feet rest happily in his lap. His eyes flicked from the football game, back to the book and then back to the game. Fuck it. He leaned forward and snatched it from the table, carefully beginning to flick through the first couple of pages.

It was as he had expected, just a few innocent sketches of flowers, all different types that he certainly couldn’t name. He almost placed the book back down before turning to the next page and feeling his face becoming very warm. Your interests for sketching had changed away from pretty flowers to sketches of him. They were all him doing very mundane and candid things. There was one of him sipping tea from a rather fancy cup, then another of him lifting his heavy dumbbells, another of him running his hands through his hair Simon noticed you’d taken great detail to sketch his hands, another small sketch of him pulling off his shirt and somehow, you’d manage to capture every little scar that littered his body.

As he continued to explore the book Simon noticed that there were some sketches of the two of you. He remembered when you had forced him to take a photo together on a woodland walk, the first picture taken of him for years but he was willing to do it to make you happy. You had taken time sketching that photo, taking in every little detail, even the disdain on his face. He should have given you a smile that day, but instead he just looked pissed whilst you beamed at the camera. His little ray of sunshine. God, he fucking loved you.

“What are you doing?” From beside him your voice was full of surprise before quickly attempting to steal the book from him but he held it up from your reach. “I was looking at your sketches, love.” He mentioned, laughing as you clambered onto his lap attempting to grab it from his greedy hands. “You wanna explain them to me?”

A quiet sigh of embarrassment fell from your lips before you stopped trying to snatch the book from him and just sunk into his body, burying your face in his throat whilst he rubbed your back comfortingly. “I like them.” He whispered into your ear. “I’m not mad, love.” He assured you softly, rubbing small circles into your face. “I just like drawing you, Si.” You whispered into his throat and he chuckled. “You’re so handsome.” He felt heat rising on his cheeks then. “And so strong… I see you doing all these really normal things and… and I just need to put it on paper… I don’t know…”

“My sweet girl…” He chuckled rubbing your back and placing the sketchbook beside him. “Don’t hide things like this from me, love…” He placed a few small kisses to the side of your face. “You don’t think I’m some obsessed weirdo?” You whined softly and he chuckled and shook his head. “I love that you’re obsessed.” He growled, quickly moving you to be flat back on the sofa with him looming above you. “Now, let me show you how much more I’m obsessed with you~”

Masterlist | Ask | 08-09-2023

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley x y/n #simon riley smut #simon riley cod #ghost smut #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost imagine

[aceofshitposts]

Well I've been tagged in a couple different wip games but honestly have just had nothing to show for them lmao but uh I've had this rattling around in my head for a while so I hope this makes up for it a bit lmao

-

Tim hikes his backpack up higher on his shoulders, weaving through the throngs of people in the airport. He got a few odd looks from the security people but even with hands clumsy with youth he was able to forge a convincing enough letter from his parents about him travelling to meet them.

It's before disaster, everything is a little relaxed and therefore it's simple, really, to get through with minimal fuss.

Tim isn't entirely sure how he ended up here, in a body too young and too healthy but he's never been one to waste an opportunity. He's perhaps lucky this was one of the weeks between boarding schools, where his mom pulled him out due to her beverage dissatisfaction with various school curriculums. It meant they were out of the country but he was still in Gotham and not being watched over by any teachers.

Gate 57B. This is where he should be. Tim scans the people sitting in the uncomfortable plastic airport chairs, all waiting to board. It's not a particularly busy flight so it's easy to spot.

Off white hoodie and baggy jeans, clothes designed specifically to not draw attention and disguise body shape. Black hair falling over turquoise eyes that are focused on the rough looking paperback in his lap. There's a duffle bag sitting against his beat up sneakers that Tim just knows the contents of without even trying.

"Jason?" Tim asks coming to stand in front of the other teenager with both hands gripping his backpack straps. He's aiming for curious. Disarming. He can't be too formal or Jason will really know something's wrong and not the way Tim wants.

Jason raises his head lazily. Like a bored teenager being called to answer a question by a teacher. But Tim can see the immediate suspicion, the slight tensing of Jason's jaw and the way his eyes scan Tim to identify threats.

Tim isn't a threat. Not yet, anyway. Not like this. He can sneak around undetected, can forge papers and send anonymous emails to Batman while hiding amongst a throng of other school kids. His mind remembers, knows all the how's, of course, but his body lacks the muscle memory to truly execute anything beyond simple defense moves.

Frustrating, honestly, but probably to his advantage right now. He still has his mind and that's the most important part.

"Do I know you, kid?" Jason asks.

"No" --not yet-- "but I need your help."

Jason raises a single eyebrow and Tim makes a bit of a show of inhaling deeply, gathering courage and whispers, "I need Robin's help."

Jason's eyes widen, all pretenses of calm evaporating with a single startled inhale.

It's a little bit of a gamble, Tim knows. But it's a calculated gamble. Telling Jason the truth was out immediately, as was telling Bruce. Waltzing up to Jason to tell him if he boards that plane he was going to die would probably only embolden him further. Telling Bruce would send him into protective parent overdrive. He was trying, Tim knows, to give Jason some space and independence.

Pleading for Jason's help, for Robin's help, it was at least going to get Jason interested. Tim being a kid was also in his favour. Even as the Red Hood, Jason always had a soft spot for kids in need. And with Jason knowing what he currently knows about his mother, that she was an emergency doctor in the Middle East, he would probably rationalize that his mom won't be upset if he shows up a little later than expected.

"Now boarding Flight AA6237, please form a line with your passport and boarding ticket ready."

That's Jason's flight. If Jason gets on that plane Tim still has backup plans but it would be so much easier if Jason just came with him.

Jason stands suddenly, hefting his duffle bag onto his shoulder with one hand and grabbing Tim's sleeve with the other.

"Alright kid, bathroom's this way," he says with maybe a little more volume than strictly necessary.

Tim beams, genuine and wide. Jason was at least going to hear him out. Jason Todd wasn't going to die, not today and not tomorrow or the next day.

This was only the first item on Tim's list but, it was a start.

And if for a moment, only a second really, Tim forgets about a terrible future, about the pain of a blade against his throat or a batarang in his chest or bruises and missing spleens and deaths and revivals, and simply relishes in the thought that Robin was now urgently leading him somewhere more private to probably interrogate him--

Well. That's just the adrenaline.

It doesn't mean anything.

#astrix writes #astrix au ideas #jaytim #Technically pre ship but you know. #I have all sorts of things planned in this au lmao #this past knows no future

[pomplalamoose]

Ooohhh so how do we think all the dynamics with dilf!luke would change if his kid was maybe ~10 years younger than you instead of your age (like maybe you met cuz you were their camp counselor or something and they got super attached to you)?

Omggg hiiiii! I got so excited when I saw it was you who sent in a request, I absolutely cherish all your ideas regarding this AU🩵🩵

Because I think it shows the subtle change in dynamics best I focused especially on a first encounter and then on how I imagine his child to cause further entanglement between him and you, since I think they'd definitely be the catalysator, especially in the beginning

• Luke, of course, remains a single dad in his late thirties to early forties and lives in a nice, cozy house with his child

• (if we assume they're about 10 years of age, he became a father at thirty)

• you, as a camp counselor/tutor/teacher/etc. don't know anything about his person, the picture you have in your mind consisting solely out of stories told by either his child or your co-workers

• but since you haven't met him yet, you're not particularly interested, not paying them much mind, as everything you know about the kid's guardians blurs together into a confusing mixture anyway

• of course this will change sooner or later, possibly when Mr. Skywalker comes to pick up his child and you see him for the first time from afar

• it's hard to miss him

• his consuming presence makes him stand out strongly from among the other parents gathering at the entrance, the dark, perfectly tailored suit he's wearing only accentuating the stark contrast

• maybe he just left work?

• even with so much distance between the two of you he strikes you as very handsome, though you can't help but feel glad you didn't run into him directly

• you wouldn't have been able to speak even a single word

• still you can't get him out of your mind and going forward you find yourself putting decidedly more effort into your looks

• just in case you see him around around again

• just in case should he take notice of you as well

• (you're only a little bit embarrassed by how quickly he put his spell on you)

• meanwhile his child, always happy to engage in conversation, seems to really love their dad, a smile blossoming on their little face whenever they talk about him

• especially as soon as they realize you're listening closely they can barely find another topic, making you endeavor to learn more about Mr. Skywalker a lot easier

• quickly you don't only know his first name but also when and if he's celebrating his birthday, what kinds of ice cream he likes best and which he doesn't like at all, details about his favorite knitted sweater and that he recently gifted them a rubber duck to take their baths with

• which is great, really, and you're not going to deny how very interesting all of this is

• but is he single????

• obviously you can't just ask a child whether their mum is in the picture or not and if their dad is currently dating someone

• luckily, or not so luckily, you're not the only one who's attention was caught by the tall, attractive man and you're able to catch some snippets of gossip among colleagues and the parents of other kids

• though gossip is all it is and soon you know why

• Mr. Skywalker is as cold as he is beautiful and impossible to draw near to

• it takes all of your courage to not flee the scene when one day his child decides to introduce you

• normally they let go of your hand as soon as they spot their father, quickly leaving you behind in their excitement as they jump into his arms

• today, however, they don't and you're starting to grow rather uneasy when they continue to drag you forward, towards a man already regarding you with raised eyebrows

• standing in front of him he's even more intimidating than from afar and you have to fight the need to lower your eyes when his gaze sweeps over you

• were it not for his child hanging on to your arm you would've left as fast as possible

• as it is though you're forced to stay

• bravely you endure the encounter consisting mostly of the child's happy blabbering and their father's polite but curt responses

• he's holding back, clearly not comfortable with your presence and studying you more and more intensely as time goes by

• he seems displeased and you have no idea why

• is your smile that terrible?

• did your greeting offend him in some way?

• does he not approve of how you're dressed?

• or about the way you interact with the children?

• you didn't think it possible but despite your initial feeling he eventually, slowly, starts to warm up to you over the next few months

• maybe due to the way his child obviously adores you?

• (yes absolutely, you're the only topic they can talk about at home, similarly to how they only talk about their father to you)

• true, he doesn't give you much to work with, the way he addresses you always stilted and his smile reserved, yet you couldn't be more relieved

• he doesn't seem to think you completely horrible and inadequate to take care of his child in his absence anymore!

• (also, as far as you know, none of your other colleagues have received a smile yet!)

• maybe you don't have a chance with him, this he made clear, but that's okay, there's joy to be found in a little harmless crush

• you dare to relax

• until his child invites you to their birthday party

• you had noticed, of course, how they followed you around like a duckling and how much you meant to them but still...

• wouldn't that mean to overstep a line?

• though when they present you a handmade birthday invite, smiling up at you so hopefully, you can't say no

• maybe it will make things easier for their parents (or hopefully just Mr. Skywalker?), you reason with yourself

• with you there they won't need to worry quite that much about a rambunctious crowd of little kids making a mess of their home

• you're good at your job and excell at pleasing even those hard to satisfy

• the longer you think about the upcoming event the more you feel your excitement grow

• you wonder if Mr. Skywalker is more relaxed in private

• as it turns out he's not

• and neither are you when you arrive and learn you are the only guest

• "I really like my friends", explains the child, "but I'd rather have you all to myself for once!"

• well

• there goes your plan to make a good impression by handling many kids on your own, while maybe sneaking a glance at Mr. Skywalker from time to time, who, in your head, sits somehwere in the distance, relaxing with a coffee

• of course, he does none of these things and instead never once leaves your vicinity, always lingering nearby to keep an eye on the two of you

• it's unnerving and continues to be so as you spend the day with activities his child planned for you

• at least there's no trace of a woman living here with them, which substantially lifts your mood despite the stern eyes you feel prickling in the back of your neck

• once it's time for you to go home you're exhausted

• to some extend you had fun, yes, but deep down you're ashamed

• how is anyone supposed to be taken seriously by an attractive older man while hosting a tea party for stuffed animals, rolling around in the grass and playing Mario Kart?

• does he even think you competent enough to do anything after watching his child chasing you with a water gun?

• your little friend insists on hugging you goodbye tightly

• "can we do this again soon? Pleaseee?", they whisper in your ear and you're inclined to agree were it not for the dark figure leaning against the wall a few steps away

• "you'll have to ask your daddy", you whisper back, hoping this will be a topic for another day and discussed without you

• once again things turn out differently though when they immediately throw themselves at their dad with great enthusiasm

• "DADDY CAN THEY PLEASE COME OVER AGAIN SOON?????"

• you don't know where to look

• what if Mr. Skywalker denys his child's request, here, right in front of you?

• he has the guts to do so, that much you were able to gather

• "we'll see about that, yes?"

• at least that's not a no, you tell yourself, yet you feel your eyes water in embarrassment

• forcing a smile you nevertheless thank him for his hospitality and receive a polite nod in return, before finally being allowed to flee the uncomfortable situation with burning cheeks, your heart beating painfully in your chest

• still holding back tears you've nearly reached the street when behind you the front door opens again causing you freeze

• half hoping, half fearing it's Mr. Skywalker you turn around, but instead spot the much smaller figure of his child against the backdrop of the lit interior

• you can't tell for sure but they seem to be grinning in mischievous delight before their little voice rings out clearly through the darkness

• "mY DADDY THINKS YOURE VERY PRETTY"

• for a second it's quiet

• then

• "but I'm not supposed to tell you because he says it's not proper"

#ask #luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #luke star wars #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars headcanons #luke skywalker fanfiction #star wars a new hope #star wars empire strikes back #star wars return of the jedi #dilf luke #dilf luke skywalker #star wars au #star wars alternate universe

[chirpsythismorning]

Crack Theory: Will Byers is Twelve (12) - Part 1

Hear me out!

With all the theories swirling around about Will potentially being connected to the lab pre-season 1, maybe even a lab kid himself, I had to go back and rewatch the lab scenes from s4.

I honestly thought I wouldn't find anything. I think a lot of people assume it's not possible for Will to have been a lab kid, or at least not to have been a lab kid present at the same time as El.

However, upon rewatching those scenes in particular, I noticed something. Suddenly, all the puzzle pieces began falling into place.

The first time we ever see Twelve on screen, we focus in on him picking out a couple of boxes of crayons to play with...

Now, I know you might be thinking this isn't anything substantial, especially seeing as a lot of the kids at Hawkins Lab utilize drawing as a technique to test out their abilities... but honestly, it only get's more interesting from here.

Let me start by acknowledging that the lab kids tend to rank in age. One (Henry) for example, was the oldest. Two appeared to be the second oldest, and so on and so forth.

And so hypothetically speaking, if Will were to be an og lab kid, it seems he would really only fit into the spots near El since they are believed to be roughly the same age; one year apart, more or less. Which would make Will most likely Ten, Twelve, or Thirteen.

Twelve in particular though, fits the bill because of a few key details.

Lets start at the beginning of season 4:

4x01: The Hellfire Club

For reference, on this date, Will would've been 8 years old.

First, we open to the Rainbow Room in Hawkins Lab.

The camera lingers on a few different kids, some very briefly, while others are given a bit more time on-screen. Though,Twelve is arguably given more focus than any of the other kids in this scene (besides Ten, followed by Eleven at the ending of this scene).

When we first see Twelve, we stumble across him picking up these crayons. Then we follow him as he finds a spot to presumably color.

Just to confirm the (pencil) crayons:

And as Twelve goes to sit down, that's when I realized... He's sits next to Eleven...

If this crack theory ends up being true, the framing/blocking of this shot might have been very, very intentional:

(above) El and Will sitting side by side over 8 years later, in the exact same episode

Even though I was intrigued, I was still mostly skeptical. And so I kept looking for more hints that might help support this as a possibility.

We don't get any more major Hawkins Lab scenes again (disregarding a couple intense quick flashback sequences El experiences) until 4x05.

4x05 : The Nina Project

As El walks into the Rainbow Room for the first time officially this season, we get a shot of her looking to the right to see Sixteen, Seventeen and Eighteen all playing together. The focus on them is brief, followed by a reaction shot from El, who just looks confused.

Then we get a shot of her looking to her right, and even though there are three people technically in this shot, the camera only really focuses on Twelve. And what he's doing doesn't just feel like a kid playing mindlessly, it feels like something else is going on here...

Why have El look at what Twelve is doing all cryptically? Is he just building a red tower and she's super intrigued? Or, could it be something else the Duffer's are trying to hint at?

I just think it's interesting, that despite Twelve's role being extremely minor, he's still focused on in a way that's more present than most of the other numbers. His scenes are nowhere near as major as Two for example, but they're also not as brief as the other younger kids.

What then follows is El getting stuck in the Henry time-loop.

As this is happening... besides Henry and El, look who else just so happens to be in the frame, with that peculiar red block tower:

TWELVE? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?

Like come on, isn't this standard Will Byers behavior? Will just lingering in the background? And this trend only continues.

But first, lets not forget what follows directly after this:

OKAY I have to make a part 2 because there's still a lot to go through and I don't want this to get too crowded! Meet you there!

Part 1, 2, 3, 4

#stranger things #will byers #byler #rainbowshipgate #twelvegate #birthdaygate #stranger things 5 #stranger things meta #stranger things theory #st5 predictions

[alexgalaxyboo]

It all started with one thought. Hey I rlly wanna draw some sort of femme fatale esque Soap.

So I went to bother @hyperfixationwizard about it, as you do.

The initial idea was obviously that he's seducing Ghost but then I thought hey it'd also be really cool if he was seducing some other dude (which of course ended up being Graves) and Ghost was his like.. bodyguard I guess.

Cue a metric fuckton of pining and jealousy they're in denial about.

So—to set the scene. The 141 and co are some sort of secret spy group blah blah blah, tasked with gaining very important information from none other than the CEO of Shadow Corporations, who is none other than Philip Graves of course.

Soap and Ghost are leading the mission, with Soap intended to seduce Graves, earn his trust and then gain access into .. like the company's super secret database so they can find the info they need to expose them. Or something. The plot is still in progress (he says, meanwhile together with Hype they wrote approximately 6k words or so between the two of them).

The plan is simple, or at least it seems simple enough until Ghost starts finding himself very very jealous that Soap is flirting with Graves. Like how dare that asshole even LOOK in his direction. Not because he's in love with him or anything, absolutely not what are you on about.

Soap of course is no less interested in Ghost—big guy, mysterious and cool, nice voice, what is he missing, really—and maybe he is more friendly chatty and flirty than he claims he is with everyone. Even if he was, Ghost can't really tell because he's busy being down bad so it's fine.

And things go according to plan, y'know? Attend a gala here, go to some fancy meeting there, maybe a date for like.. golf or whatever stupid rich assholes do, I wouldn't know, but they're earning Graves' trust and that's all that matters.

And maybe somewhere in between all that, Soap and Ghost kind of have.. a Moment™ where Soap asks for help to put a necklace on and asks Ghost for help. There's something about the feeling of his bare fingertips (because he'd have to take his gloves off, no?) so faintly brushing against the skin on his back, something about the intimacy of literally baring his neck to Ghost (because he trusts him and it's quickly becoming clear he doesn't just trust Ghost to watch his back he trusts Simon) and somewhere between all of those some things they probably stay frozen there in front of the mirror for longer than they should've and longer than it should've been acceptable.

They do snap out of it though, with Soap meeting Ghost's gaze through the mirror and shooting him a wink before hurrying off pretending his cheeks weren't burning red.

Funnily enough, that same night or maybe a day or two later, when Graves presents Soap with a necklace as a gift and insists on helping him put it on himself, Ghost finds his blood boiling at the way his hands linger around Soap's neck, peering over his back to admire the pretty piece of jewelry and is about seconds away from murdering him on the spot—subtlety and diplomacy of the mission be damned.

Ta-da!

(there's ,, more to it I guess but this post is getting very long so ,, feel free to ask anything and everything as always lmao)

#blah blalex #ghoap spy au #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #philip graves #codmw2 #call of duty #trans john soap mactavish #did i mention that? i don't think i did. but yeah he's trans. ofc he is. me and hype made this what else could he be.

[sgt-seabass]

Hi lovely! I wanted to say hello again and thank you for the amazing answer to my ask from last week about your Clockwork AU!

I have another😁

Do you think Nick would ever consider leaving all his ‘work’ behind for the quiet life with puppy…have a big family, be domestic…just kind of all that happily ever after stuff?

Hope you have a great day!!! And thank you again for sharing with us❤️

eeeeee hello again! I got so excited seeing this ask. Thank you so much for your continued interest!

This question is a little harder to answer, because I’m really split in two about it. Nick is not a good person. He has his own circumstances that cause him to be that way, but nonetheless he worked really hard to build the life he has. He would not easily give up his empire, even for his omega. He expects her to adapt to his life, not for him to make sacrifices for her.

That being said, he definitely would want kids and the domestic life one day. For Nick, by having an omega and his empire, that is his happily ever after. Nick may slow down in his later years, and eventually pass on his responsibilities to someone else. Either one of his children or a colleague.

Also, there is a danger in Nick slowing down. A lot of powerful people rely on him, and if he were to pack up, he’d have to flee and go into hiding. There would be a hit on his head and a threat to his family. In this kind of world, you can’t just quit when so many people need your services. Plus, if someone were to kill him, they would have killed a prime alpha. Which is a show of power in itself. Nick can’t show weakness or others will try to take everything from him. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

As a big thank you for continuing to be interested I wrote a little drabble 💙 I hope you like it!

𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆

w/c: 320 warnings: stokholm syndrome a/n: thank you to @sweeterthanthis for helping me combat mean brain when trying to write this. part of my Clockwork AU.

You could feel the soft thump of Nick’s heart as you lay your ear to his chest. The sound always grounded you. The steady rhythm giving you something constant to focus on.

Nick had been working all day until late into the night and only joined you in bed past two am. He’d tried not to wake you, but you’d woken when he slipped into bed.

“There’s something on your mind,” Nick announced into the silence, the mated bond allowing him to feel how your mind was flurried with thoughts. “Talk to me, omega.”

How should you word it? You pursed your lips before snuggling into Nick’s chest. “Don’t you ever want to stop?”

“Stop what?”

“This. All of it. The stress, the work. I want some peace.” You felt nervous telling him your feelings. Nick didn’t take very well to change he didn’t initiate. You’d found your place where you could ask for small things but understood the boundary that major elements would not change.

This world Nick was part of was dangerous and unforgiving. Walking away meant showing vulnerability. And if there was one thing Nick would never do, it would be showing weakness.

“Hm.” Nick hummed, drawing languid circles on the small of your back. “Some peace, omega?”

“It’s fine. Just forget I said—” Fear that you’d annoyed him circled in your core.

“Shh, hush now.” He swatted your back gently, pulling up the covers, so you were both covered by the plush duvet. “I’ll organise to have one of the safehouses turned into a holiday home. There you can have your peace, puppy.”

“Does that mean you’ll stop working while we’re there? Maybe turn your phone off for a bit?” Even the dogs knew your question was controversial, three sets of eyes peering up from their spots by the bed.

“You’re smart enough to know the answer to that question, pup. Don’t ask me again.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambswrites #nick fowler #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x you #dark fic #dark nick fowler #clockwork au

[thee-great-enigma]

A little New Year's drabble expect more

Lemme know if I should add onto this maybe with more characters or smth. Also, I'm trying out using [name] for reader instead of (?)

Also, @silkval I plan to get part two out soon for you I'm sorry I forgot it was in my drafts

Male reader x Lonely lil Kaeya :(

What about Kaeya who hasn't been able to celebrate holidays much because he doesn't have people to spend them with. He's not one for big party's and prefers to just sit at the bar trying to pick on his brother just to be able to talk to him.

But you're there.

And you wanna talk to him.

Not just because you also don't feel like socializing with anyone else, but because you find him interesting. The silver-tongued, charming, pretty, always smiling, and outgoing Cavalry Captain of Monstadt, not wanting to really party with anyone. You found it a little ironic.

So you a little awkwardly scooted over to the stool beside him, Diluc having long walked away to ignore Kaeya.

Kaeya raised an eyebrow and turned to face you, because he couldn't really see you well when you were sitting directly in the blind spot his eye patch provided.

"Oh? What are you doing here [name]? Shouldn't you be partying with the others, family and whatnot?" He said, taking a sip of his favorite drink.

"I could say the same thing for you. But I'm afraid I just don't have the energy for a party right now. Maybe later. Although, I like to entertain the idea that we could have a little party of our own."

"Is that so? What would we do at this little party?"

"Well, let me think. We could play some board games up on the roof of my humble abode, we could drink and eat sweats that we bake together, we could do little sparklers and draw pictures and countdown to midnight together. And we can squeeze in whatever else you want in there."

Kaeya took another sip of his drink as if considering your offer, but really he knew his answer before you even said what you'd do together.

"Alright then. Let's welcome the New Year together, dear [name]."

#genshin impact #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #Happy New Year's!! #x male reader #kaeya x male reader #male reader #new years fic

[writingformyblorbos]

It's cloudy above (Part 1) [next chapter >]

Steven Grant × gn!Reader (possible Marc × Reader and Jake × Reader in the future) Summary: You spot the cute man from the bus while buying groceries and try talking to him. A strange encounters takes place later on. Word count: 2.2k Warnings: Mugging, canon-typical violence (death, guns, you know the drill), swearing in Spanish, not proof read (taking risks is my speciality not really). a/n: This is my first fic in a loong while, but I wanted desperately to write something for Steven and make a shameless self-insert. I just love him so much. Also, I don't think I'll want to see the word mushroom in a long while. Lastly, I want to apologize in advance if i got the intricacies of London's public transport wrong, I tried to do my best as a foreigner with the most research I could. I hope you enjoy:)!!

It was late in the afternoon on Sunday, and you had gone to your nearest Tesco to stock up on groceries. You were on the vegetable isle, looking for some items from the shopping list on your phone. As you were reading what the next item on your list was, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure out of the corner of your eye. When you looked up, you saw the back of a man with curly hair you swore you could almost recognize. When he turned around, you couldn’t believe your eyes. ‘Could it be? There’s no way,’ you told yourself. But it was. It was him; the cute guy from the bus you had a crush on.

You would see him often on your way to work, always having dark bags under his eyes, adorned by the messy curls in his head. He seemed like the shy type, and the poor man always looked totaled, like he hadn’t had a good night’s rest in a long while, often falling asleep on the bus; there was even one time he screamed and looked frightened, which was weird, but you figured was because he'd had a nightmare. Who doesn't dream a clown is chasing them every now and again? You didn’t know that much about him, only that he would get off on Trafalgar Square and that he was a person keen on history and other intellectual stuff, judging by the hieroglyphs on his phone case and the kinds of books he would occasionally read on the bus to keep himself awake, poetry and history books of the sort —always wearing his reading glasses, of course— yet your little knowledge of him and his generally disheveled appearance didn't stop his sharp jaw, his curly hair, his beautiful brown eyes, and his intriguing interests from drawing your attention, leading you to develop a crush on him. He was the whole package, after all (smart and handsome).

But one day, he stopped boarding the bus. You figured he'd gotten a day off or he was sick, but days turned into weeks, and eventually, it had been a while since you'd last seen him. Maybe he'd switched jobs or had moved. Either way, he wasn't a part of your life anymore.

Or so you thought, up until today, seeing him going about his errands. You stared at him in disbelief. He still looked as tired as ever, you could even say he looked more tired, like he'd been working out an entire week non-stop. You wanted to ask him so many things, but there was no way you could ask him why he no longer took Bus 24 without sounding like an absolute creep. You contemplated on whether it was better to leave him alone or if you should try talking to him, but this feeling in your gut told you this might be your chance: what if you never saw him again and just lost the opportunity of a lifetime? So, you started brainstorming any kind of small talk you could spark up in the supermarket without it being awkward. Then bingo! He was holding two packets of mushrooms: one was a packet of normal mushrooms, and the other was a packet of sliced mushrooms, and he was looking at them indecisively. You could help him and go from there?

You felt absolutely ridiculous, but you had to. Your conscience would never leave you alone if you didn't. So, you mustered up all the courage you could and made you way towards him. You took a deep breath, trying to stop your hands and legs from shaking, and said:

"If I were you, I'd get the sliced ones."

"Sorry?" he asked, a bit startled by the sudden comment.

"Oh! I just, I would get the sliced mushrooms. They really help you save up time. Unless you have skewers, then you can just..." —you gestured your hands as if you were pricking an imaginary mushroom with your imaginary skewer— "stick it in the mushes and slice them".

He looked at you a bit confused, but you could also see a glimpse of surprise in his eyes.

"That's quite impressive, seems like you know your mushrooms," He chuckled, leaving the normal mushrooms in the bin they were. "I don’t happen to have skewers back at home, so I guess I'll just take the sliced ones, more practical. Thank you"

"No problem," you smiled.

Great, what now? That wasn't the most captivating conversation starter you could bring up. Perhaps it was a stupid idea to try talking to him, 'he probably thinks I'm a weirdo for talking about mushrooms' you told yourself, so you decided to turn around and get back to your business.

"Wait!" You heard from the dark-haired man, "do you happen to take Bus 24 in the mornings?"

No way. There's no way he actually recognized you. Now that you thought about it, what if he thought you were stalking him? I mean, you weren't, but anxiety often leads you to the most extreme trains of thought.

"Uhh, yeah! Yeah, I do," you answered, nervously waiting for him to get angry.

"That's mental! I remember you. You watch videos of cute animals, yeah?" He immediately looked flustered, like he regretted what he'd said, "I mean, not that I eavesdropped on what you were doing on your phone. I only saw it once."

You were relieved he wasn't angry, but also a bit amazed he'd remembered that small detail. He said he didn’t eavesdrop, but that was clearly a lie. Watching cute animals was a must in your daily commute to work though. You could see he was a bit embarrassed by his comment, so you tried to reassure him.

"Oh no, no worries. I once saw you reading a book on Ancient Egypt, right?" he affirmed with his head and seemed to be a little less afflicted, so you tried breaking the ice a bit more. "My name is (y/n). (y/n) (l/n)" you said as you offered your hand for a handshake.

He shook your hand back, with his big, calloused hands, "Steven Grant. The Steven is with a 'v'"

Steven. ‘A pretty name and very fitting,’ you thought. He indeed looked like a Steven.

"It's nice to finally know your name, Steven with a 'v'".

“Likewise, (y/n),” he nodded back, and you both stayed silent for a while, smiling and blushing.

"Well, I'll see you around then. Cheers!" he waved off. There he was, again, slipping through your fingers, like sand on the desert. Come on, had you really gone through embarrassing yourself by talking about mushrooms to just see him walk off? Steven was such a mystery, but one you wanted to know oh so desperately. It was now or never, you had to try to ask him out, or at the very least get his phone number.

"Hey! Uhm..." You called out. Steven turned his head and looked at you with those gorgeous eyes of his that made you feel all jittery inside.

"I was wondering if, I know we just formally met, but..." you started fidgeting with the keys in your pocket, trying to get the words to come out of your mouth, "Could we exchange numbers? I would really like to see you again, and I know this place that makes amazing pastries, so maybe... we could go out?"

That was it. You shot your shot. The ball was in his court now. There's nothing else you could've possibly done. It was only up to fate if—

"Yes, I'd love too."

Your eyes probably shot out of your face, similar to a cartoon, because of the way he looked at you, with a tiny bit sweet grin on his face. You were absolutely over the moon. He said yes! You swore you would’ve danced in the middle of the veggie aisle if it wasn’t considered something weird to do.

Still, you managed to stay calm on the outside and exchanged numbers with Steven. Finally, each one went on about their shopping. But on your way home, you couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach thinking about the next time you would see handsome Steven Grant again. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too long.

By the time you’d finished placing the groceries in their place, the sun had gone down, adorning your windows with London’s city lights.

You were sitting on your couch, scrolling through your social media. One of the hottest topics of the moment was the latest hero-related incident: some people started dropping dead for no reason in Cairo, which would be shocking news if the world didn’t seem like it was on the verge of ending every couple months. Apparently, a cult had been behind the attack, and there were two heroes involved. One was a woman with curly hair and her suit had golden wings, people started calling her the Scarlet Scarab, and there was this other man with moon motifs who seemed to be able to go from a full-on costume with cape to a fancy suit; people hadn’t come up for a name for him, yet. If it was up to you though, you’d call him the Moon Shifter, or something along those lines. You were glad you weren’t in charge of naming superheroes.

Tired of reading about this latest tragedy, you stood up and opened the nearest window to admire the nocturnal landscape, a cold breeze hitting your face; it felt oddly comforting. You glanced around the street. Nothing was out of the ordinary, just the usual noise of cars passing by. You felt as though the city was luring you out of your flat to go on some moonlit adventure around its streets.

You figured you wouldn’t be going on an adventure, but you sure as hell were starving and didn’t feel in the mood to cook, but there was a Chinese restaurant not far from your place you could get some takeout from. Determined to get your dinner, you grabbed your coat, a pair of shoes, your tote bag, and headed out into the windy streets.

As you were walking to the Chinese restaurant, you felt someone was staring at you from a distance. When you were about to turn around, someone on a moped snatched your tote bag from your shoulder and drove off.

“Hey!” You tried chasing the person with your belongings to no avail, they were long gone. Your first thought was to call the police, but your phone was inside your tote, along with your wallet. You scooped your faced and whined in desperation, feeling this empty hole in your chest. You figured your best course of action was continuing your trip to the restaurant and ask if you could borrow the phone to call the police, so you continued making your way to the restaurant in resignation.

CRASH!

There was a loud noise not so far from where you were. Weary of your surroundings due to what had just happened, you cautiously made your way to the noise. You poked your head towards the alley where it came from and, to your surprise, saw the same moped that had just mugged you crashed into a garbage container. The guy was in the floor, pleading for his life, and in front of him was a figure with a white cape who remained silent.

The caped person only took a step forward, retrieved a gun from his waist, directed it to the man, and said in a raspy voice:

“Mejor ruégale al diablo, pedazo de mierda”.

You covered your mouth to stifle the tiny yelp that escaped your mouth when the shot was fired. You felt the urge to throw up as you saw the man lay lifeless on the pavement.

“Ahí está, Jonsu. ¿Necesitas que me ocupe de alguien más hoy?” The man said nonchalantly to the air, as if he hadn’t just killed a man. Silence followed. Was he expecting someone to talk back to him? Then, he growled in desperation, “¿Qué? ¡Pero Harrow está muerto, tú mismo viste que lo maté!”

It seemed he’d gotten a response, but he wasn’t too happy about it. After a few moments of the wind talking to him, he turned around, looking directly at you.

Shit! You hid from him on the outer corner of the alley. You could hear his steps drawing nearer, but you stayed frozen in fear. He was probably going to kill you for what you’d just seen. Then, the footsteps stopped. You slowly opened your eyes and got a full view of the man. It was the superhero from Cairo, only his costume looked slicker, less mummy-like.

“This yours?” he asked with his thick accent, reaching your tote bag towards you. You nodded.

“Be more careful,” he warned as you grabbed your tote bag from his hands.

As soon as you had a hold of your bag, you made a run for it. After all, you’d just gotten mugged and had seen a man get shot, so you definitely weren’t going to stick around to chit-chat with the superhero in front of you. After running for a bit, you made it to the Chinese restaurant. You opened the door and slammed it shut, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Are you alright?” the person at the register asked. You made your way towards them and slumped down in the counter, head burried in your arms.

“Can I get the large combo?”

Another a/n: Tysm for reading! I am going to be working on a follow up to this fic, so look foward to that. I am planning on making this a Marc × Reader and Jake × Reader series , and maybe even add Layla into the mix because, lke I said at the beggining, I live vicariously through the fanfics I write and I am a bisexual disaster who would really like to be in a poly relationship with all of them.

#moon knight #moon knight series #moon knight disney+ #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fic #moon knight x reader #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x you #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x gender neutral reader #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely x you #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x y/n

[necle]

It’s interesting how when Tenn got upset at Riku for his stunt, he specifically referred to their parents as the reason.

During this scene, I had expected Tenn to say something more general or generic like “You could have gotten hurt” or “That was so dangerous. Why did you take such a risk?”. Or at most on a personal level (because how serious the situation looked), “Don’t know you know how worried you made me?”

But here, he specifically mentions the concerns from the perspective of their parents.

One reason may be because of what happened at the end of Second Beat (when IDOLiSH7 and TRIGGER try to confront imposter Zero)

(funny enough, this was also on episode 15. Well played, Troyca)

If Tenn feels like his scoldings don’t have the same effect on Riku because they’re “no longer family”, then it makes sense why he’d tried to appeal to Riku’s concern for their parents instead of something more general or personal coming from Tenn (which if that is really the case, then wow. Props to Tenn for thinking about that on the spot, despite the situation he was in).

Another reason (and far more heavily into speculation territory. Please take it with a grain of salt):

I don’t think Tenn mentioned only their parents as a way to deliberately mask his own concern for Riku like he normally does in past seasons. He, the professional among professionals, damaged an idol’s face. He’s definitely not thinking straight and probably acting on the spur of the moment, unless he really collected himself half a second later.

Compared to how Tenn normally is, there is something almost raw and unrestrained with the way he said that line to Riku. It was kind of like he was drawing from a distant memory or imagining something worse was about to play out during the earlier confrontation.

I don’t think has to be from a single specific incident from the past per say (though it could be). It could be several situations growing up where there were close calls with Riku’s health, and then he overheard their parents’ conversations afterwards. If those sorts of memories had been accumulating for Tenn for many years (especially at his age), it may be possible it became a deep-seeded fear for him that he hasn’t gotten completely over. So when he saw Riku having an attack (which is the first time he’s seen in person in a long time since childhood) in what looked to be dire, helpless circumstances, those old memories and fears may have been brought up.

Ultimately, I don’t really know what was the exact conditions regarding Tenn’s deal with Kujo, if providing relief to his parents was part of it, or how Tenn really felt about his situation (other than that one vague comment in Second Beat). But to see all what you build up and sacrificed for to protect only for it to come crashing down in this one life-or-death situation, for something Tenn may view himself responsible for (getting kidnapped and not being able to escape), its not unlikely that those old memories about Riku and his parents were on his mind, even subconsciously. Him thinking of those memories and fears being about to play out maybe be why Tenn says that more oddly situation-specific line to Riku.

But this is mostly speculation with not much concrete evidence to actually support it. It is probably will be leaning much more to the first reason rather than the second reason since there is something in the story to tie it back to, but I still want to explore reason 2 nonetheless. Regardless, I found this scene peculiar, if not interesting. Hopefully Tenn’s past will be explored more in detail at some point.

#tenn kujo #kujo tenn #riku nanase #nanase riku #IDOLiSH7 #Idolish7 s3 spoilers #character analysis #necle's ramblings #sorry Im singling out on a couple lines again. #this one is definitely more based on the speculation and interpretation side particularly the second half

[cerealmonster15]

[background template source!]

hmm yknow what. maybe i was supposed to describe the unique magic in that bottom box. oh well teehee!!!!!

updated references for twst rsa ocs Char and Dañarte!!!!! for now. i'll add them to artfight soon!!! I was gonna do another one for Dañarte's Scarabia Era but I worked on these all week.... so i'll just do that one separately sometime maybe lol. anyway i've posted about these guys a lot as u can see from the tags i gave them on my blog, BUT my main origin post about their soap opera lore is really long and intimidating to read.... I have a shorter lore post here, but JFKSJLDJFKLDS.... finding these templates made nice, more condensed intros for them lol. and I [slightly] updated their looks so they aren't just carbon copies of what the seven dwarf characters are wearing!!!! but i'm bad at clothing design so i didn't really change them much!!!!

also i tried to be careful but my handwriting is Bad so i'll retype the info / talk more under the cut.

First guy: CHAR

Age: 18

Best Subject: Animal Languages

Birthday: March 19

Class: 3-C

Club: Fencing [does rsa have a fencing club. idk. they do now.]

Height: 175 cm

Hobby: Horseback Riding

Homeland: Shaftlands

Likes: Arts & Crafts, Shellfish

Dislikes: Keeping Secrets, Beets

Unique Magic: Unknown [I haven't decided one for him yet, and I may simply make him a late bloomer who hasn't discovered his yet lol]

Extra info:

Favorite Stones: Pink Opal & Chrysoberyl

Older Cousin to Dañarte

Long-lost childhood friend + new love interest to Cater

Source Character: Prince Charming from Cinderella

Second guy: Dañarte*

Age: 17

Best Subject: Ancient Magic

Birthday: February 13

Class: 2-C

Club: Equestrian Club

Height: 182 cm

Hobby: Writing Speeches

Homeland: Shaftlands

Likes: Planning, Grain bowls

Dislikes: Tenderhearted people, Undercooked meat

Unique Magic: Kiss of Frost: He kisses something or someone and temporarily freezes them ICY STYLE!!!!! or something like that. idk it doesn't kill people[???? maybe it could. idk.] but it don't feel good. Perhaps the area of frost can vary as well, like a small smooch spot vs spreading through the whole body? We gotta workshop it a bit more I'll get back to u on that someday. maybe.

Extra info:

Favorite Stone: Apatite

Char's younger cousin

"Love interest" to Cater + later on, Jamil...

Source Character: Hans from Frozen

RSA -> NRC -> Scarabia [He gets expelled and/or leaves RSA for whatever reason, I still haven't come up w/that part LOL... and ends up at NRC post breakup with Cater and gets sorted into Scarabia.]

* Disclaimer bc I feel the need to point out whenever I bring him up about his name lol- Dañarte isn't truly a name, it's just a spanish verb that's like "to hurt you". his character literally spawned from a convo I was having with a friend when I was trying to think of a name for Char, and something I said got autocorrected to Dañarte, and we made jokes about an evil princely character... so he became his own thing and I just kept that as his name lol.

anyway. i like talking about them but i also get shy and embarrassed about it klfjslfjks. also i probs did not draw them to scale bc life is hard. so are colors. i went very basic bc im scared but im trying to remember how colors work again in our year 2024 or whatever. WAHOO FUNNY LITTLE GUYS!!!!

shoutout to op of this template [@unfinished-projects-galore] making me sit here and consider the lives of these boys a lil more w/that bio layout. i was tempted to put summoning as Char's best class but WHAT do they summon. tell me idia what does that MEAN - jk it's probably like how juice bb summons cauldrons lol. I also considered Potionology for Dañarte but I think he'd like stuff like history and all that jazz and older [perhaps FORBIDDEN] ways of doing things.

#twisted wonderland #twst oc #ocs #twst #cereal tries to draw #oc: char #oc: Dañarte #ummm did i have a caterella tag. idr. but they technically spawned from my caterella multiverse so #caterella #was that all the catalogue tagging. i think so. ok im going to go play persona now byebye. #but also. twst oc havers. our kids should hang out 👀 #well maybe char should. Dañarte's a bitch. but i'll make him go on play dates LOL JFDSKLFJKSDLJFLJ ok jkjk. or am i. jsklfjdskljls #ok actually im gonna slap these new refs on artfight and THEN go play persona #unless im at the pic limit then ill deal w/it later #ONLY A FEW MORE MONTHS TIL ARTFIGHT HANG OUT W/ME ON ARTFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT PLEEEAAAAAAAAAAASE #ok. bye. 🚶

[oldmemoria]

lmao i fucking forgot to share this

not only do i have unorganized miguel heacanons but i have unorganized HOBIE ones too

i have unorganized random headcanons for all the characters i brainrot over these two are no different!!

identity headcanons first hehe:

hes trans. he probably diyed his hrt and also has top surgery somehow hes magic. (i also think he'd have tattoos over his scars, either super cool bat/devil wings or an intricate spider design on their whole abdomen cant decide ill draw it later 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉)

he, however, doesnt really have any specific sexuality or gender labels they feel like they fit into. theyre attacted to all genders of varying degrees but doesnt really put a label on it. he just exists.

also doesnt mind what pronouns you use for her. any/all. basically.

also also would encourage people to use the weirdest and coolest neopronouns they can think of for zem like REALLY go out there WHATEVER YOU CAN THINK OF.

ADHD haver?? MAYBE???

to the rest acaksdlfj;akdjf:

theyre very crafty and dabble in basically every form of art. music, graffiti, painting, sculpting (mainly with trash or scraps or random discarded items he finds, more on that later on), sewing, whatever. if he can learn to do it she will.

he is super touchy and likes being close to people, but also understand boundaries.

very emotionally intelligent, i feel like this is canon anyway but ill just put it out there, ze can basically sense if someone is upset.

LOVES ABSOLUTELY LIVES FOR talking to new people, will go out of their way to introduce himself to basically everyone, especially new spider-people she meets.

he is a bit of a joker, ofc, but he wont try and push boundaries that he clearly sees or hears from the person theyre talking to. hi people who hc him as being an unself aware dickhead shut up you are very wrong did you even watch the movie.

this one is probably my favorite but he will pick up random things he sees around him and keep them for art projects. cool rock on the sidewalk? its a rock, hes gonna take it. funny lookin bug? might pick it up for a little to look at it and put it back in a safer spot. bottle cap? "mine now". like i said before he likes using litter to make art.

he will stop mid-mission if he sees something cool that he can take home like "oh [riff] cool leaf" and put it in his pocket.

i was referencing this post btw i love this headcanon, absolutely genius, i will steal it ty /lhj

this stealing of random objects from all around the multiverse has caused many lectures for miguel (they arent listening)

they have some kind of control over what texture/color they turn into if xey really think about it but most of the time he just kind of.. lets it do its thing. (sort of like a RainWing?)

shockingly good at vague yet oddly specific threats that are unrealistic but if you really think about it it's like "oh yeah he could totally do that..." but she wouldn't. yknow what im saying right???

while he does live in the 70s where technology was uh... not as popular nor as advanced as they are now, he's aware of modern tech through Gwen, Miles, Pav, DEFINITELY through Margo and Miguel, but she doesn't really use it often. doesnt really see the point.

along with that he also is aware of modern music as well, he has mixed feelings (gwen is probably the biggest influence though she is such a Pinkshift/Paramore/My Chem girlie it hurts to think about)

100% collects record of artists, especially smaller artists, that they like.

if you get them going about music he will talk for HOURS. HOURS until you tell him to shut up, even though fae totally wont listen and will keep going anyway. (just like me teehee projecting is fun <3 )

while hobie does use his guitar as a weapon for some reason he is quite protective of it. they wont try and stop you from touching it or playing it, but he will watch you like a hawk. half out of "oo look another person is interested in guitar" and the other half of "👁️👁️ dont break it i can only do that /j" (a lot of musicians are like that, i would know, im one of them. ha)

loves stray animals. cats, dogs, birds, anything. he will stop to pet them if they let him.

he also will talk to cats like any other person. especially spider cat. spider cat could make a cat noise and he'd act like he understood it. "yeah totally man, i get it. meow."

he can sing like... averagely? he has a good sense of pitch and timing, as most musicians do, but she isnt professionally trained or really does it too often

they will scream though

also really likes messing with makeup and bodypaint. he will spend hours on it if he can.

FUCK I AM SO HAPPY I DIDNT POST THIS IMMEDIATELY BECAUSE I KEEP REMEMBERING THINGS ACK HERES ONE LAST ONE POST THIS AFTER ASH I SWEAR (edit from two weeks later: i forgor): he definitely isnt a morning person. he loves to sleep in. definitely values rest, like a lot. miguel will call him at like 7 am and hobie will flip him off and say 5 more minutes when they really mean 2 more hours.

do i have any more?? hmmm maybe if i remember but this is what i have so far. mostly just silly lil headcanons that arent entirely plot relevant as most of my headcanons are.

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spider punk #hobie brown #headcanons #might draw some of these later :) #almost forgot new hobie tag im so sorry #british spider #FUCK I SHOULD HAVE POSTED THIS WEEKS AGO LMAO

[catchyhuh]

Emerging from my tumblr slumber to reignite the ship hc discussion >:)) thoughts on fujigoe??

YES!!!! I WAS WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!!!! i have Many thoughts on fujigoe and this is more of a strange appreciative ramble than hcs, so here’s your apology right off the bat!! I’LL MAKE THOSE HCS LATER MAYBE

the interesting thing about fujigoe is the complete takedown of the chase dynamic you find in so many other places with this group. goemon never actively seeks out fujiko’s romantic company-- it just kind of. happens to him. AND HE’S CERTAINLY NOT COMPLAINING MAKE NOOO MISTAKE but conversely i think that’s what draws fujiko to him too. goemon won’t even initiate something as simple as sitting next to you on a couch, where most people tend to throw themselves at her, DENY that they’d throw themselves at her, or just outright hate her, plain and simple. of course goemon is attracted to her, but… he doesn’t make it her BUSINESS until prompted. and i think that’s what makes them work a little bit. there’s a strange unintentional understanding at play there that you don’t fully get with any of the other matchups, at the very least certainly not with fujiko matchups

IN canon, fujiko was his “girlfriend” twice, but this isn’t even a step in their actual friendship developing to me. i haven’t said anything like this before with any of the others because i didn’t. really feel a big need to differentiate but fujigoe only truly “works” for me after a certain point, because throughout the 70s, fujiko treated goemon like a tool, to be honest, the same as the writers did, but at some point in the… 80s, if i had to guess? she started having this-- not really soft spot, but this particular attachment to him. from the specials on, she’s almost always pleased to see him, she’s very huggy with him, teases him just as much as jigen, and really, you could just as easily read this as one of the actual friendships in the series they let fujiko have and it’s an equally sweet, satisfying dynamic. but also it could just come from the fact that goemon’s loyalty is to HIMSELF more than lupin so if she says “i have a huge job lol” he comes RUNNING over. SOMETIMES IT’S NOT EVEN FOR A JOB HE JUST WOULD RATHER HANG WITH HER FOR A FEW DAYS 

isn’t it interesting that goemon considers himself to have the strongest morals of the gang and fujiko openly declares she has the loosest? isn’t it wild that goemon is the most easily embarrassed and fujiko is the one constantly faking being shy and nervous? DON’T WE JUST LOVE CONTRAST!!!

you could break it down to “EXCUSE me he ASKED for no PICKLES” except the he in question was kind of eating the food with pickles anyway because it’s really not that huge of a deal to him, and when fujiko mentioned that they had ignored his request he just kind of glanced in the direction of the kitchen, went, “oh.” and shrugged and kept eating. if it were an honest to god issue he might politely but firmly correct them but he just doesn’t care, and fujiko is ready for an excuse to pick a fight with that asshole behind the counter anyway!

ending on a kind of serious note, after years of being around each other and gradually earning the other’s respect and whatever form of trust you can get being cutthroat thieves, i bet it’s very… nice, on the small occasions when they’re vulnerable with each other. both of them tend to be guarded in different ways, so just unclenching for once and resting against each other is probably a big highlight of the day, if not the week, for them both. there’s only so many things that the two of them can’t just take for themselves, and this specific kind of comfort is one of them

but hey ignoring all of that fujiko told goemon to get a phone JUST to call her and her alone and he went “O.K.” so ladies if he wanted to, he would, etc etc

#(also i’m honored to be the thing waking you from peaceful hibernation :) i love reading your tags and rbs they always make me smile ) #lupin iii #lupin the third #fujigoe #fujiko #goemon #asks

[animeyanderelover]

hi there!! can you do ash with a grim reaper darling, who also has black feathered wings? ignore this if its too odd or whatever!

I’m pretty hyped for the continuation of Bleach and Stone Ocean this year. Have finally managed to read the manga of JoJo and honestly, Anasui is pretty much canon a Yandere.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, paranoia, manipulation, stalking, violence, mentions of self-harm

Grim Reaper darling with black wings

▫️Ash, whilst being aware of Grim Reapers just as much as about every other supernatural creature, harbors normally a disdain against pretty much every kind of living being. They’re depraved, filthy and he plans to cleanse this city of such spots with the Queen as his master or, in reality, really just his puppet. He doesn’t like anyone interfering and whilst Grim Reaper swore to stay neutral, they might still somehow be in his way though for now Ash ignores their presence largely. Looking on how vicious he can become though, it’s absolutely in character for him to attack and even kill anyone in his way if he can’t achieve anything via manipulation and the power from the Queen.

▫️When he spots you whilst you’re out on your job, he plans at first to ignore you but the large and black wings draw him in. He mistakes you even for something entirely else that has his heart beating in disgust since black wings are normally indicators for a sinister creature. It isn’t until he sees your Death Scythe and your eyes that he calms down, recognizes you as a Shinigami who is here to collect the soul of a dead human.

▫️He could just leave after seeing that you’re nothing more than a Soul Reaper, he normally ignores your kind when he spots them and they ignore him as well. Something about your black feathers draws him in though. He can’t recall having ever seen a Shinigami with wings before, only angels and maybe demons in their real form are known to have wings. It concerns him and at the same time catches his interest. Is there something he doesn’t know about your kind yet that might turn out to be a problem for him later on? Or are you maybe a hybrid? Especially that last thought has his skin crawl in a unpleasant way.

▫️He watches out of pure suspicion and disdain at first, your black wings seem to have triggered something inside of him, enough for him to follow you around for a bit. Ash is careful with not being caught, looking on how he is quite experienced and your already nearsighted as you are with your other senses being similar to that of a average human, chances are that he’s successful. The angel even scolds you in his head for being so sloppy, belittles you. However, the more he watches you during that time, the more he starts to notice the little things about you that kind of cool his initial dislike down.

▫️It may be the way you silently pray or apologize to the dead people, the way you might speak softly or be really energetic. Anything to make you stand out from some of the other neutral and plain Reapers he has met so far and traits he wishes to have in humans more. At first he admits such things begrudgingly, the more time passes by the more he admits those facts easier though. Disdain slowly turns to genuine curiosity until he starts feeling another weird sensation. A growing admiration perhaps and suddenly time passes by all too quickly until he notices with dread that you have to leave.

▫️His mind can only think of you the following day. Of your little talk to yourself and the corpses, of your pretty and kind eyes and of your wings who now don’t look all that repulsive in his mind anymore. Now they just look majestic and mysterious and they make him even more curious to know why you have them. It makes you truly special among others Reapers!

▫️He finds himself soon after out again, flying over the houses in hopes of finding you again. He’s impatient, even nervous and the longer he isn’t able to spot you, the more he starts feeling anxious. Why aren’t you here? Did something happen? You are after all unique because of your beautiful wings, maybe other Shinigami just don’t think of you as one of theirs. He’s surprised at first that he actually bothers to worry, wonders why he suddenly concerns himself about you. It’s a thought quickly subdued by his worries though and before long he’s overthinking, frantically flying over the city.

▫️The moment he does see you, he instantly heads down to watch you from a closer distance and he finds difficulty remaining far away for you to not notice him. He can’t help but coo silently over you and every little action. The way you talk and joke with yourself or pretend that the corpses can actually hear you, the way you look up at the stars or do something silly and insignificant. He can hear his heartbeat going faster in his chest as a unknown feeling suddenly starts to take over. What is this warmth and blissful feeling?

▫️It’s even harder to see you going now and he really has to hold himself physically and mentally back to not grab you and refrain you from going. There’s the urgent need to protect you and keep you safe, to spare you from this routine of collecting souls and following orders. You aren’t made to take orders, your wings and everything about you tells him that others should do everything for you, Ash includes himself into this group. His head is elsewhere for the whole day, he can barely hold himself together and as soon as he is alone a bothered and panicked look crosses his face. His head spins from thoughts about you. Where are you right now? Are you fine? What if you get hurt?

▫️The pull inside his chest is almost unbearable and he feels like he is sinning by not looking for you. So to gain a little bit of a peaceful mind he finds himself soon again traveling through the sky, amethyst eyes searching hastily for you. Every other Shinigami he spots he almost wants to ask where you are but he can’t. If he isn’t able to find you, he might actually just slaughter other people in hopes of seeing you again. Humans have no value for him after all, they’re given divine punishment by him.

▫️If he does find you again, he feels ecstatic more than he felt in heaven itself. It’s physically and mentally torture at this point to just watch you even if this pleasant sensation calms him down a little bit. Enough to withstand. But time is against him, it passes by far too quickly before you have to leave to the quarters of the Shinigami once again, a moment that has his stomach churning and twisting in fear. Ash knows he can’t follow you there because even Shinigami are careful with whom they let in or not. He’s an outsider at best, he isn’t a Shinigami and for that can’t follow you. But who knows what might happen if you leave now?

▫️It’s up to question about how much longer he can stand the continuous separation. I’d wager less than a week at best. He’s quick to go delusional about the fact that you are special, pure and clean. This painful pull he concludes must be a sign that he is your guardian angel. It’s his job to keep you safe and sound, happy and cared for. That must be why he crumbles apart when he doesn’t know about your whereabouts, that must be why he feels like he wants to bang his head against a wall until it’s bloody because he can’t concentrate nor function without you.

▫️His mind is made up quickly since even the image of you being safe somewhere with him as your guardian is enough to help him out of his misery a bit. He plans fast since there isn’t much time or rather he can’t handle you leaving and coming day and night. He wants to lure you somewhere more isolated, wants to not hurt you whilst disarming you of your weapon. Someone as precious and delicate as you shouldn’t be burdened with a Scythe. He plans to use a body of whom you have to take the cinematic record.

▫️He’s fanatic enough to approach you as soon as you two are alone, a wistful and worshiping look in his eyes as he examines you. He has almost tears in his eyes, he’s never been that close to you before and even if he’s only watched you for a few days, he already feels it. You’re the one he wants to serve until doomsday and further.

▫️As crazy as this sounds for you, Ash tries to talk you at first into giving up your current occupation and come with him. He babbles about you being too pure and him being your guardian and what else, something that might highly unnerve you. You’re a neutral creature yet you sense nothing good coming from him as you try to get away. As soon as the angel notices, he’s down on his knees, begging you with growing desperation in his voice to not leave him. Is he really already failing in his duty?

▫️If it comes down to the point where you attack the angel, he’s utterly terrified. Not for himself but for you as he fears to hurt you. He tries to not be rough, willingly lets himself get hurt if it means not laying a finger on you but an angel has overall more abilities than a Grim Reaper and he’s talented in his skills so after a fight that kept on for a while simply because he didn’t go fully out and you weren’t easy either, he finally manages to knock your Death Scythe out of your hands.

▫️Grim Reapers have a enhanced endurance but somehow he has to knock you out or at least manage to not make you struggle in his arms whilst he flies you to the new place he has in mind for you. It’s risky with what he is doing since he might have a few more if your kind after him after he kidnapped you and Shinigami are willing to eliminate what’s in their way as well. But it’s a risk that’s more than just worth it.

▫️The aspect that you committed suicide in your previous life and turned into a Grim Reaper gives him lucid nightmares, he’s utterly horrified with the thought that you already died once. He’s so pressured with his expectations to do better and make you happy which makes him even more sensitive to any coldness or wrong sign of yours.

▫️Enamored with everything about you, including your wings. He doesn’t dare to ask you about it because as long as you don’t tell him, he doesn’t deserve to know. He wouldn’t clip them away either out of fear that you might escape, he tries however to find other ways to keep you with him. If you escape he’ll quite literally let the whole city burn.

▫️Something he might attempt to do though is trying to give you back your lost humanity. Clipping away your wings whilst you’re still a Shinigami is cruel but your humanity is something precious and in his eyes maybe even the right thing to do. He’ll give you back what you lost because of this unfair world. Though he would probably miss your wings a bit if he would success in it.

▫️It isn’t unless his darling carved in that he gives up once he does feel reassured enough that you won’t try to flee and ruin his mentality in the process and his body as well with the wounds he’ll inflict as punishment later. If you’ll let him clean or care for your wings, he’d probably die of happiness and honor on the inside.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere ash #yandere ash landers

[teecupangel]

Submitted by @fanworldbuildingfun

Hello there. I have had this little idea rattling through my brain

A Desmond who has recently run away from his home but have not yet found a place for himself in the wide open world. And – he ends up in Turin, for a while. Going at saving up some money to move further

But – he is still young. Getting a job is one thing, but finding a place to stay that wouldn’t bleed his savings out has been harder. Even more so, if he was looking for a place that wasn’t 50 types of shady

One of his freer days, he ends up stumbling across a small cave. Kind of like the ones we have to push through in new game trilogy. A vertical crack, really. And with nothing better to do, he decides to explore it

The place this crack leads to? The Grand Temple. An earthquake caused that crack to appear, and another one would have originally closed it a year or two later. And while there are no power sourced, here, to activate the temple en large… We do have Origins with its silica that can be found right in the temple, as an example of small-scale power source

It’s a pure stroke of luck, but Desmond manages to activate a small, small section of the Temple. Not enough to draw Juno’s attention. But enough to make it – a place to live? To explore? Maybe managing to somehow to connect to the place with modern tech – again, on pure stroke of luck because who know that sticking a cord to that one spot in the platform that kind of looked like a jack, would work?

Eventually, say, in a year, Desmond has to move on. But in that year? Desmond learns just a little bit too much to not be noticeable as he goes on. Imagine it like the result of regular late-night Google binging. He’d just look up one thing, that leads to another, then to another

Odd things to include:

Desmond could use touchscreen tech straight off once it popped up. Better than anyone else who knew him. Also tended to complain about it being slow

Casually correcting someone in the bar and getting into a deep discussion about some Niche@TM branch of science that was a rabbit hole Desmond spent some time looking through in Temple

Odd preferences in lighting

Tron: Legacy premiere left Desmond with an intense feeling of Déjà vu (the movie aired in 2010)

Desmond probably did not have the intended reaction to Animus

=============================

Additions from teecup:

All this google would totally lead him to be a regular on a lot of conspiracy theory boards. The idea of ancient aliens are the premise of myths and legends will make him have a ‘you annoy me but you give me the weirdest and most interesting questions’ relationship with one of the regular users there (who turns out to be a bespectacled man we all know).

Instead of a cord, maybe the glowly lines recharge his equipment or something like some kind of wireless charging ports XD

All of Desmond’s exploring made him find the thing that makes the ‘ambrosia’ that taste like cardboard. Still, it’s free and he feels full just eating one bar so, even if it’s possible that it’s not all that safe, he still uses it so he wouldn’t have to budget for food. Depending on how big we want the dispenser to be, if it’s small enough, Desmond could haul it out of the Grand Temple when he leaves because ain’t no way he’s gonna let go of that bad boy. Buying food and cooking becomes more like a treat for Desmond. (He also learned how to add seasoning to the Ambrosia so it tastes like… well… seasoned cardboard)

It would be funny if Desmond found the Isu equivalent to a 3D printer and, while the crack isn’t big enough for Desmond to take out say the motorcycle of his dream that is absolutely more scifi than anything out in the market today, he could use it to print really good forgeries like a birth certificate, documents required by school registrars… maybe even money?

In the end, Desmond’s fiddling with Isu tech made him too interested in technology in general and he tried out engineering and computer software classes, half just pretending he was supposed to be there and half actually giving forged documents too good to be found out by current tech and experts. Maybe he even becomes friends with two certain blondes who have issues of their own although he doesn’t stay that long but he definitely made an impact on the two of them.

And with his Frankenstein knowledge of both Isu tech, googling and the few classes he took in various colleges while he does his city-hopping just to be sure no one from his parent’s cult finds him, he starts to be a regular in tech and machinery chatrooms, becoming friends with a certain black-haired young woman who has the weirdest but most interesting ideas that made Desmond’s mind go ‘ooohhh, but what if…’

In the end of all of these, it’s not Abstergo who finds him first.

Nor is it the Assassins.

No.

The first ones to make contact with him and asked if he wanted to fuck society up?

Erudito.

#ngl #if you wanted to #instead of erudito it can be dedsec #bam! secret watch_dog crossover! #assassin's creed #desmond miles #desmond being tech savvy #erudito desmond #maybe? #submission