#it's the way i prefer them in a canon setting than in an AU because I love angsty stories

[crimsonlovebartylus]

someone told me, you don't have the balls to ship bartylus in canon.

i thought to myself, so you agree bartylus is canon 😄

#it's the way i prefer them in a canon setting than in an AU because I love angsty stories #i personally dont think i could do them justice #so i dont write them in canon settings #my au's are all projecting into regulus and my bestfriend personality being bartys #regulus black #barty crouch jr #bartylus #ANYWAYS bartylus is canon #canon bartylus #the marauders #harry potter #marauders #regulus x barty

[halemerry]

The thing is. When people look at Book Omens and Show Omens there are a few different things that can happen. Sometimes you get people who try and shove them into one universal true canon. Sometimes you get people totally dissociating them from each other into two separate entities. And, to be clear, I don’t think either of these options is inherently bad to do - I myself defaulted to the latter for quite awhile after season 1 aired - and I always think folks should choose to view these characters in the way that makes them happy. For that matter, I think that there's nothing wrong with disliking a version or preferring one over the other or even ignoring one exists. But, I do think a lot of analysis I have seen has a tendency to remove the characters from their context in a way that does them a bit of a disservice. Because their context matters quite a bit.

Book Omens and Show Omens were made in two very different worlds facing two very different problems and two very different futures stretching out in front of them. The Book belongs in the context of a world on its way out of the Cold War while the Show belongs to a world starting to buckle under the weight of capitalism’s pressure. The evils in the story reflect these two world states - which I think is a good thing. As much as I love the book, if the show had just done the Cold War allegory, I don’t think it would’ve hit quite the same way and could've easily felt dated.

The most notable impact narratively from this shift is the fact that Heaven and Hell both have a more constant presence. Show Aziraphale and Crowley feel far more watched and actively monitored than they do in the book, especially in Aziraphale’s case. His relationship with Heaven especially is far more ‘boss checking the quarterly numbers’ or ‘oppressive family head checks in on their younger sibling’  than it is ‘spy reporting his findings’. And this shift is a huge one as far as what it means for our characters and their context.

Take for example, a small exchange of dialogue in the book where Crowley and Aziraphale do something that we know for a fact would never happen in the show - where they discuss the admittedly slim possibility of each other’s side granting of each other asylum. This is dialogue that works quite well if you’re looking at them as two spies with wavering loyalties but does not work for the show version of our protagonists, because the pressures they face from Heaven and Hell are different. The same thing goes in reverse for the Bandstand scene - a scene that is not in the book at all because it works far better in a show interested in a character facing pressure from a toxic family than it would in a book where Heaven’s presence is a very distant one.

And this right here is where we end up with the question of character consistency. There’s traits that each version of Aziraphale and Crowley have that the other does not, which leads to them feeling like two sets of characters in a way that can make them feel like the show is occasionally out of character. But it’s not really that, I don’t think. I think that's just a side effect of viewing them out of context. And I think a lot of those differences and the ways they manifest make a lot more sense if they're viewed like aus - because that's what they are in a lot of ways. The Book is a Cold War au and the Show is a modern au. They’re different, yes, but still undoubtedly them.

#good omens #book omens #crowley #aziraphale #show omens #good omens season 2 #rambles #just been rotating this in my head for a few days #one of these days ill ramble about crowleys optimism but for now have this

[attyattlaw]

cross posting yesterday's rambling thread for posterity and because tumblr lets me edit things. anyway this is a sorta long thing and i might add things i forgot to mention in the twt thread

i tend to draw on-model canon because im a coward + just personal preferences. but the way i convert the canon designs into my artstyle is that i take the distinct features oda gives them and then combine it with personal headcanons to complete what should look like a unique human. Starting with Trafalgar Law, who is unfortunately a bland-ass conventionally pretty boy

someone commented a while ago the law hat drawing tutorial i made a while ago didn't make much sense and i realize its bc of the specific way i draw law's face: heart shaped (ba-dum-tss). That meaning, a narrow chin widening into a mild defined jaw, wide cheekbones, and up to his know-it-all brain dome.

given that, the pudgy guitar pick shape of his head i mentioned here should make a lot more sense.

i don't think this design point is unique to me, as most conventional pretty anime boy gets given jaws like this. a lot of law artists tend to veer into this head shape. just how life be sometimes. other points: flat, thick eyebrows is bc im a hairy gal and i need to feel better about myself.

Killer gets to be more interesting, because he shouldn't be considered conventionally attractive. my idea behind killer's is that those individual features is smth he would be insecure with enough to hide himself in a helmet but i draw him with all the love in the world actually. i'd like to think its how kid sees him or yknow, law, bc he's my kin assigned blorbo and maybe you ship lawkill as a guilty pleasure too i mentioned before (and ruined people's days) when i said whenever i draw killer he looks like griffith before i put on his goatee. the upper half of his face is distinctly feminine, with the lower half kinda over compensating. other than that uhh...idk. stan killer

Kidd is the bane of my existence, i feel like i can never draw his face consistently. yet at the same time he's so damn fun to draw everyone gotta try it.

my problem with kidd is that this mf does have eyelids. most kidd painters out there interpret this as him having deep set eyes (think Matt Smith or jeffrey star) . and yeh skill issue on me i should practice that. other notes, i try to make him younger than canon makes him look. he is my babygirl and he deserves to look cuddly. my band au kidd version has the honor of being allowed some chubs. he's just tries to look older and more menacing with edgy makeup. also i try to give him dimples when i can because, well i can.

Rosinante last bc i lost steam after kidd. the thing abt cora is that aside from not having eyebrows, everything is structured with the generic one piece man template. which means i gotta do everything myself doffy is there bc the way to figure out how to draw these two is to give them minor differences from each other, that being doffy gets slightly sharper features. in canon, these two are also rly wide boys (more of an oda style feat tbh) but i make them long. though bigger brained donquixote artists know that of these two brothers, doffy should be the wiry-er built. anyway that's it. in conclusion, i need to draw more girls actually i feel like im becoming misogynistic by osmosis from oda's style and now i draw girls all looking the same too.

#one piece #trafalgar law #eustass kid #eustass kidd #op killer #massacre soldier killer #donquixote rosinante #donquixote corazon #donquixote doflamingo #was gonna do robin and perona too at least but like...i have a job and stuff

[ranticore]

I wanted to keep drawing some pern dragon stuff because I'm now writing a full AU set in weyr but I didn't want to put this stuff on my main blog or patreon due to it being basically for my own reference, though i felt others would like it too! so here is My Take On Dragon Wings By Type...

It's no secret I love drawing bird wings and prefer them a lot over traditional dragon wings. Growing up, I read the pern books featuring cover art of dragonfly-like wings with lots of little translucent panels, which I always loved. So I thought I'd try to nail down some wing shapes & structures by blending those two things i like together. I am aware dragons fly by telekinesis but I prefer a more realistic type of creature design so I will be choosing to ignore that fact. I do not care about strict canon compliance but I do like to keep some of that framework there as well, for fun.

The wing is made up of three main sails, as well as a propatagium sail (in front of the elbow). They are relatively polymorphic and can expand or contract to an extent to change the shape of the wing in response to flight demands, like the wing of an airliner. The trailing edge can expand and the slots between the spars of the 1st wingsail can deepen or become shallower (where those are a feature). The main structural matrix is opaque, while the membranous 'sails' are translucent and let light through like stained glass. These are a bilayer of membrane with air sandwiched between, which forms part of the air sac & respiratory system.

It makes sense for the original engineers of dragons to diversify dragon wing types by colour so that when fighting Thread, there's a dragon for every conceivable aerial job.

[individual descriptions under the cut]

Queens have the longest wings, though the largest bronzes can rival them for surface area. Gold wings are high endurance - a queen can fly further than any other dragon in active level flight, leaving even the swiftest bronzes behind if they can't muster up the energy reserves to catch her. She is an effective flier at all elevations and can pass very low over terrain without issue as well; she is an expert at taking advantage of the ground effect, where extra lift is generated within one half of a wingspan above land. This way, she can pass low below the main wings fighting Thread to catch any stragglers without expending too much energy. However, she is not very agile and may need a bit of a run-up or cliff-edge to get airborne.

Bronzes are suited for command positions during Threadfall, rising highest and maintaining that altitude effortlessly by soaring on thermals. From this vantage point they can easily survey the wings of riders below and make tactical decisions to direct the tide of battle. They have the size and stamina to chase queens, but might find it difficult to keep up on the flat, so they continually select for fitter hatchlings as only the best manage to mate. It takes a very clever and agile bronze to catch a green, if they are so inclined.

Browns are swift, highly agile, and the fastest vertical fliers, ideal for diving through the Thread mass from top to bottom while the other types pass horizontally. During earlier Passes, browns were capable of using their speed to catch queens, but as queen & bronze endurance gradually increased, browns struggle to keep up if they haven't managed to immediately catch their mate in the starting scrum, which is unlikely due to the bulkier bronze dragons being able to shove the browns aside.

Blues are fast on the flat and nicely manoeuvrable, with enough endurance to last a full Threadfall. Good all-rounders with a characteristic vertical take-off, they work best in the horizontal plane in battle but really they can do a little bit of everything. They often beat browns to catch greens, being very precise in flight and almost as manoeuvrable as their green mates.

Greens make up for their low stamina with their extreme manoeuvrability. Their short and elliptical wings let them turn on a dime, hover, and even fly backwards if they are sufficiently skilled. They have the fastest wingbeats, flying with a distinct thrumming sound. Of all the types they are least likely to be hit by a stray Thread, but they tire easily on the flat and have no soaring ability at all, often tapping out midway through battle in favour of replacements. In battle, greens excel at catching odd and skewed clumps of Thread that don't fall as predicted, or ones that are missed by the other riders. Green mating flights are a whole different beast to gold mating flights, where extreme aerial acrobatics are favoured instead of endurance and altitude, and these flights may be over within seconds. You need to be able to withstand a Lot of G-force to be a green rider.

#dragonriders of pern #hi it's me again. this is my sketch dump blog (very new) #pernese dragon #pern

[avelera]

I feel like one unexpected side-effect in the (slight) uptick of queer ships becoming canon (seriously guys it's so slight if you look at the actual numbers) is learning how often slash fandom doesn't actually want the baggage that comes with their ship becoming canon.

I mean, of course they want it. The fandom wants the confirmation that they're not delusional, that they're not mocked, that the sparks they sensed between two possibly-queer characters is real.

But the side-effect of a ship becoming canon with anything more than a kiss to mark the end of the story is that it might become canon not in the way you wanted.

So long as the characters are in the will-they-won't-they, you can imagine what their first time would be like. You can imagine how they act in a relationship together. You can imagine the tone of the relationship.

You can imagine it in ways that are incredibly personal and meaningful to you.

But the minute a ship becomes canon at a point where the story still needs to progress, you're going to get divergence from the way you imagined it going.

They're going to bicker about things you never imagined would be a point of contention between them in the story, that it might have even been meaningful for you that they had never fought over previously, possibly because the story just didn't have the time for them to fight over that beforehand. Or perhaps this writer leans more into interpersonal conflict as a plot point, where you preferred the couple facing an external threat. There's as many ways to imagine the tone of a relatinship as there are people in the world.

They're going to have a different first-something than you imagined. First kiss, first date, first time sleeping together. For it to be canonical it has to be committed to the page which means it has to be set. Maybe you thought it would be awkward where it was smooth, or smooth where it should be awkward. Maybe you though the kiss would be a bigger deal to them than the sex or vice versa. Maybe canonically they flub the romance of that first time for the sake of comedy. Now that's canon too. You can ignore it with fic, obviously that's what fandom is about, but now it's AU, not "what-if?".

There might be interruptions to the love story, breakups, fights, separations, that aren't the end of the relationship but do mark an action beat that is necessary to keep the story moving and interesting. Unless the last canonical beat is them riding into the sunset together, it's inevitable and usually marks the end of a story because domestic fluff where nothing happens isn't actually a genre that can be sustained in original fiction without a plot.

Look, as queer ships become canon, this is going to be inevitable. OFMD S2 was the most egregious example I've seen recently of everyone who had engaged with the fandom having a different version of how they wanted Stede and Ed to behave once they were together. I couldn't help but laugh when I saw that the fandom fervency shifted from the canonical established queer ship (after it had the audacity to move beyond the establishing kiss and then the will-they-won't-they phase of reuniting), to the potential of a character who was never even canonically established as queer (Izzy) because everything about his story still lived in the potential land that fandom thrives in. And I don't entirely mean that as a criticism, just as a bitter irony!

Fandoms don't necessarily want a ship confirmed, they think they do, but that potential which was so enshrined and infuriatingly drawn out with regards to queer ships for so long and that's only just barely breaking just a little from when it was outright forbidden to show queer characters getting together (and it still is in most of the world if you go by population, and heavily discouraged by the mainstream powers that be in most places even where it's not banned, the limitations on international markets you get from having canonical queer characters even as side characters still makes it prohibitive for big budget flicks, since it means cutting themselves off from those markets in terms of recouping costs.)....

ANYWAY the point I'm making is that a few queer ships becoming canon has led to a perhaps predictable but depressing amount of outrage when 1) a popular queer ship doesn't become canon, but that's been building for a while now, but also 2) when the popular ship becoming canon doesn't become canon in the way the fandom wanted. Which was also inevitable but goddamn as a veteran of fandom for over two decades now, I can remember not that long ago when your queer ship becoming canon just not in the way you hoped would have been a damn nice problem to have!

#maggie rambles #fandom #ofmd meta

[jackdaw-sprite]

Hi, @ep-10 ! I was your truce gifter this year for @phandomholidaytruce and I decided to use your prompts for a Japanese ghost--kinda, but mostly for a biopunk fantasy au. You're getting some character designs for a biopunk fantasy AU set in a world suspiciously similar to Sengoku era Japan! And also backstory. Mostly backstory, really.

Warning for someone getting baked alive in a kiln.

I mean, we all know who.

Jack and Maddie Fenton are a married pair of researcher/alchemists who've been brought into the country with the influence of an old friend of theirs, Vlad. He wants them to figure out the secret to producing porcelain, an expensive and magically versatile ceramic with a production process that's a closely guarded secret in a nearby, much more economically powerful country.

To this end, Vlad has supplied the Fentons with enough wealth and resources to not ask things like "where did you get this?" and "what exactly is going to happen when it gets out that we're trying to make porcelain?"

As it turns out, this is a very important question, because together the pair piece together how to build a kiln that burns hotter than any they've ever seen before and for the very first time make the coveted porcelain.

The victory is short lived: their son Daniel goes missing that very day, and then their search for him is waylaid by another discovery: some of the porcelain is coming to life, animated by a horrific amalgam of flesh and vitriol. They must find Danny, but first they must make sure the monsters they've made are destroyed…

So! The three big players in our cast of characters here are Jack, Maddie, and poor, poor Danny. They are coincidentally the only ones I had time to do a character design for, so let's look at Jack first, who is holding an experimental porcelain vase:

That's quite an outfit. It's, uh. Not quite standard in the Sengoku: while he's wearing a hitatare, it's been modified, and he's chosen not to wear pants because it's technically not, like, a crime. I chose this for him because Jack:

a) Does not care about what everyone thinks of what he's wearing, or he wouldn't wear a jumpsuit all the time in canon b) Hates the feel of most clothes

Hitatare were growing in popularity during the Sengoku because of how comfortable they were, so it seemed a good fit for Jack. They didn't necessarily need to be worn with hakama if you were of a lower class, but it would be frowned upon to go without if you were off a higher class.

The modifications he and Maddie have made to it make it even less restrictive than a standard hitatare, and a bit more suited to their work of experimenting with kilns and clay.

The obi is stitched into place, so it doesn't actually act like a belt and put a line of pressure across Jack's stomach, and they've added a button to the side to hold the hitatare closed, instead. The stitching around the sleeve openings is pretty archaic by this point, but they've kept (or added) it so he can draw the openings closed when he wants, and a second draw string runs along his sleeve to let him draw the sleeves away from his hands when needed, while still letting him let them extend to their full length to act as a barrier between his skin and unpleasant textures.

He's got some leather gloves and a pair of very early goggles to protect his hands and eyes from the heat of the kilns.

The geta act as an additional layer of protection against bad textures, since they should keep him above mud.

Maddie, here holding a shattered fragment of porcelain, is dressed far less eccentrically, because this (left) is before the porcelain came to life. She's just wearing a kosode with hakama and a leather apron. (She has gloves too, they're just tucked away at her back) The smaller sleeves stay out of the way while she works, and the hakama are roomy. She's wearing waraji, because she prefers what I assume is more stable footing and a lower center of gravity.

This is especially true after they start fighting the porcelain. Pictured here, you can see she keeps her hair out of her face with a standard low ponytail, and the Fenton Anti-Creep stick manages to still exist in this world, despite all odds.

This Anti-Creep stick is a bokken with embedded teeth of broken porcelain for a better shattering potential--metal, especially enough metal of sufficient quality for a sword, is expensive, and they're dealing with something that's only a stronger ceramic…

Which brings us to the kiln. And, to his great misfortune, to Danny.

This is a multi-chambered climbing kiln. While I don't think it's the first kiln that allowed firing temperatures to reach that required for porcelain in Japan in our world, it's the most common and appeared around the same time as that first one. The design of it encourages airflow in a way that traps and directs heat to build it on itself and distribute it reasonably evenly.

The kiln chambers would get filled with the pots to be fired, then they would set a fire in the little step down in each chamber. Then they would seal the kiln chambers entrances with fire bricks, except for a small stoking hole to keep the fires fed.

Then they'd light the main fire at the mouth to the first, lowest chamber called the stoke hole and the fire box respectively.

And then they would keep the fires lit, and feed them, wood upon wood upon wood…

Until eventually, the kiln warmed, grew sweltering, grew hot, hot like fire, like iron in a forge and then hotter still, until the whole of the inside glows.

Like the center of the earth.

…

At the lowest, porcelain requires a firing temperature of 1000 degrees. Celsius.

Brass melts, at that temperature. Porcelain itself gets its strength from melting.

And Danny…

Danny tripped. Danny was loading one of the chambers, and he tripped and he hit his head and by the time he woke he was sweating.

He tried to crawl away from where he knew the fires were. The flue, where the spent air left the kiln, has charred finger marks where his burnt away after the carbon dioxide and heat drove him unconscious a second time.

It was a mercy.

By the time he woke again, his body was cooling.

You see, the Fentons enchanted the kiln to make it try to repair pieces that were falling apart during the firing process. And, if one piece was destroyed in the firing anyway, to use the fragments to reinforce the other pieces in the kiln.

Danny was in the kiln. Danny's body failed.

Bone ash is not a critical ingredient in porcelain, but its presence makes it much, much stronger.

Danny woke up made of porcelain.

His sandals left black on the soles of his feet and the fingers on one hand that had burned looked skeletal. But he woke up.

And he ran.

Later, he'll find help. Later, he'll find a way to fight the other things in the kiln that day, and the results of later firings. Later, he'll meet a boy who loves puzzles and information and who teaches him how to use a bow and arrow to keep his fragile body intact. He'll meet a girl who loves foraging (partly because it gets her away from her parents) but loves justice more.

(Whether he'll stop wearing his clothes like a corpse is another question.)

Danny here is wearing something hitatare adjacent and hakama, along with a yugake.

Happy truce!

#danny phantom #jack fenton dp #maddie fenton dp #danny fenton dp #jackdraw-spwrite #jackdraw-sprite

[angy-glimmy]

This is crazy how the spop fandom, especially when it's dealing with the pairings and ships in the series, was ABSOLUTELY toxic as hell :/

I think it ruined a lot of things to be honest, and I'm very glad I was never part of any of the dramas or the antis wars or whatever... Of the fandom in general, despite just being in contact with *some* people, who were nice and good.

I mean... For example, you can dislike a ship, or like one more than another, but just spreading the hate and the insults that was spread... That's kinda inhuman and rude :/ Same goes for a specific character or a scene, I mean... Come on, do you think being rude is going to help make it better? Spoilers: nope.

Today, I am almost ashamed sometimes to be a Glimmadora shipper and to post online, because of what most of Glimmadora shippers had done... The hate that was spread, especially towards Catra, or in the fandom Catradora or other shippers :/ I DO NOT want to receive that hate. I am NOT like them. And everyone should have been respectful, because it has ruined the vision of Glimmadora or JUST the vision of the friendship between the girls. And same goes with Catra.

I am personally a nice multishipper who appreciates almost everything... I have my preferences, of course, but it does not forbid me from appreciating OR being neutral towards other things of the show :/ Spop is not perfect at all, there are many things in the story and the character telling that are kind of wrong and badly handled, but it does not mean it's still not a good show, with good things and really interesting characters :/ People hating on Catra or Glimmer I really can't stand any of you anymore, especially if it's just to insult without even thinking. (Counting that both of them are kinda alike when we see the parallels, especially in season 4, but well-)

Well, that's all for me, I just needed to do a post related to that... I have seen a lot of hate content about Spop recently, and I just think it's important to remind people to be, I don't know, *respectful*? It's not hard to be huh. Spreading hate was never the solution, and I find it sad that most good, nice and caring Glimmadora shippers like me, who respect others deeply, are put in the same basket because people just thought being disrespectful and mean would be the solution.

Catradora is canon. Glimbow is canon. Scorfuma also is. As well as Rogelio x Kyle x Lonnie. And that's great, that's the way the series intended to do and to go. But it does not prevent from creating AUs or alternative universes where your ship could be canon! It does NOT mean you should spread hate on official and canon ships, GOSH. And the reverse is the SAME. Stop spreading hate. Spread love, respect and neutrality. You can give your opinion, but BE RESPECTFUL. And NICE.

And I swear to Grayskull if ANYONE EVER insults me on liking Glimmadora a little more than other ships (I'm a multishipper I do like Catradora and Glimbow don't get me wrong), I will commit arson on you with the help of Sea Hawk setting one of his boats on FIRE. (That was for the joke, I stop my very long post here sorryyy I'm just tired of seeing so much hate spread :])

#she ra #she ra and the princesses of power #spop #adora #glimmer #catra #glimmadora #catradora #she ra spop #antis dni

[tossawary]

So, I started thinking about a Kuina Lives + Strawhat Kuina AU specifically because of a paragraph on the wiki page. I was looking up info on Shimotsuki Village while I was taking down notes for a potential Pre-Canon ZoLu fic inspired by the live-action show.

Allegedly, the infamous 4kids dub CHANGED things so that Kuina didn't die, she was PERMANENTLY DISABLED to the point of being unable to pursue her dream. And my brain went: "?!" I see no reason why (aside from a few very extreme cases of disability) a disabled Kuina could not become a Strawhat pirate and go on adventures anyway! (Franky is a CYBORG who looks increasingly like a MECHA and Chopper's pills are BONKERS.)

Relevant quote: "Per standard policies, the 4Kids-dubbed anime censored her death, stating that she had been permanently injured by the friends of a man she'd defeated (and removing all scenes depicting her funeral or grave)." Which is driving my brain UP THE WALL with possibility when Kuina and Tashigi also supposedly both have names referencing flightless birds. The THEMES. The SYMBOLISM.

Personally, I still prefer Kuina becoming injured in an innocuous fall rather than having people directly responsible for her physical disability. The degree of her injury depends on what story that a person is individually writing. I see two potential ways forward (of many) that both interest me.

OPTION A: Kuina is physically disabled to the point of being unable to fight well generally, especially with swords. She uses a wheelchair and crutches to get around, and has some other lingering issues. So, like, she can definitely still whack people with a sword and shoot a gun, but Zoro is wielding Wado Ichimonji because Kuina feels she cannot do it justice. (But she's still supervising!!! She's Zoro's coach.)

Kuina's grandfather was a swordsmith, so in this case, she would end up in a smith, weapons expert, and quartermaster role for the Strawhats. She, Usopp, and Franky can be the Crafting Team! Ship maintenance crew! Kuina takes Merry's sinking nearly as badly as Usopp does.

OPTION B: Kuina has "mostly" recovered from her injury, which set her back for several years, but is still struggling. A dedicated female fighter on the Strawhat crew is VERY tempting as an idea. Monster quartet, yes? Yes! She's wielding Wado Ichimonji and Zoro is still searching for his own dedicated swords.

She could still be a swordsmith and quartermaster in this case! In either case, A or B, I think it might be cool to give Kuina a hook? (Kuina @ Crocodile: "Compensating for something, huh?") She could get other prosthetics or just super cool assistive devices as the story goes on with Chopper and Franky's help.

KUINA'S POTENTIAL ARCS: I do really like the idea of Kuina (if she can still fight with a sword) and Zoro moving forward together, neck and neck, for the title of World's Greatest Swordsman. I think it would be cool to come to a resolution that the title is more or less something that they can share? Like, only one of them can beat Mihawk in a "fair" duel, so that's an issue in the competition between them, but I do like the idea of the two of them going back and forth beating each other in duels, at the top of the world together.

Arguably, when Zoro sacrifices himself at the end of the Thriller Bark Arc, he has come to the resolution that he'll give up his dream for Luffy and the crew, where he gives up the last remnants of being self-centred and throws himself completely behind Luffy's philosophy of friendship and enjoying the journey. He still wants to be the World's Greatest Swordsman, but his crew comes first. I don't recall after this point any reckless moments of a similar nature to him stabbing himself in Orange Town when fighting Buggy's crew to prove a point. Zoro's recklessness culminates in sacrificing himself with purpose.

It does feel a little weak, but... Kuina could decide that she's comfortable in her own skills and doesn't need to prove anything to anyone. She KNOWS she's as good as Zoro is. She can declare herself the World's Greatest Swordswoman and let Zoro fight Mihawk. (They did probably flip a coin over it or something.) Maybe she never really wanted to be the World's Greatest, maybe she just wanted to live her life the way that she chose, and felt like becoming the World's Greatest was the only way of permanently shutting up every sexist jerk who has ever talked down to her. (They will never shut up. Sexist jerks will always find something to nitpick.)

ALTERNATIVELY: Kuina could have a heartbreaking and healing story about having to give up your dream because it's not physically possible anymore. Even if this is a story where she's still fighting as a swordswoman with Wado Ichimonji and is monstrously dangerous, maybe her physical disability prevents her from now fighting on Zoro's level, which really fucking sucks for her when she feels like she has so much to prove as a woman.

Shounen manga has always had an issue where the solution to some fights is that the protagonist just needs to "fight harder, yell louder, and believe in himself more", even when the protagonist is bleeding from everywhere. "One Piece" is fun because there are plenty of fights and problems where the protagonists succeed due to being genuinely clever, but there are other fights where it's all about a manifestation of willpower (sometimes literally). And this often works thematically.

I think Kuina would be interesting as a character for how she could contrast against Zoro, so I'm leaning towards giving her a very different story rather than making her Zoro 2.0 (Female).

For example, where Zoro is reckless, I think Kuina might be cautious, especially if she's been badly injured before and is still struggling. In flashbacks, she's open about her problems and anger to Zoro because he's her friend and also a safe target - he's an outsider / outlier in the dojo and she can beat him in a fight. In a martial school that probably demands some level of respectful behavior, Kuina might not display the same bravado and unhappiness to her father, who is also her teacher and responsible for the sexism that she's internalized.

If she's a swordswoman still, I don't know that she would challenge Mihawk at the Baratie. For one thing, it's STUPID. Zoro had to KNOW that he was nowhere near Mihawk's level and he's lucky that Mihawk had some level of honor and curiosity to spare him. If Mihawk had been a little more of an asshole, that would have been the end of Zoro's dream. He was really stupid there (affectionate, that's my boy). The smart thing to do is keep your mouth shut and live to challenge Mihawk another day, but I think Kuina would also hate herself for this kind of "cowardice".

Her personal struggle as a character might be with reserve and fear of risk, whether this culminates in her ultimately overcoming all obstacles and succeeding in her dream with the help of her friends, or in her giving up her dream due to a physical disability (or multiple physical disabilities) that is no fault of her own in favor of a new dream. You could try your best to combine all of these different elements into Kuina's arcs and abilities. There's a lot of possibility.

#strawhat kuina au #tossawary one piece #shimotsuki kuina #roronoa zoro #fic ideas #long post #spoilers #character death

[revlischarm]

Hydrodynamic AU

uhhh hi so. This has been cooking in my brain for a few months now (6???) and basically it’s a ROTTMNT Separated AU with Donnie as the focus but like, y’know. It’s all of them. I call it Hydrodynamic AU cause a lot of it comes from Donnie being more…water-based I suppose?? Either way. Yeah.

The story (if I ever find the willpower to draw it up) would revolve around Donnie going out and finding their siblings in the various locations; not to try and turn them towards the side of light or whatever. Donnie just wants to hang out. The universe has other plans, however.

More on each character under the cut!!! And lmk if any of you are interested in this!

Donatello Hamato

•Raised by Splinter

•They/them pronouns (Non-binary!!)

•Goes by the usual canon nicknames, but mainly uses “Dee”

•This Dee’s whole thing is being extremely water-based

•Donnie actually knows Repo Mantis before he got mutated! They started sneaking into his junkyard as a kid and got caught and they actually bonded

•When Don got older, they started helping Repo out with repossessing work; the two are even closer after Repo mutated!

•Don usually doesn’t wear their battleshell in this AU! It gets in the way of swimming stuff, so they prefer to be without it most of the time

•All of their stuff is painstakingly designed to the waterproof

•The whole lair has a ton of water slides in it, it’s super fun

•AUTISTIC!!!

•Don is extremely bad at socializing and doesn’t know how to mask (nor do they care for it). Can’t identify social cues well.

•Still friends with April; Don also hangs out with the Purple Dragons regularly (they give them ✨validation✨)

•Athletic only in how they’re an avid swimmer

•Really likes Lou Jitsu movies, and likes hearing their father talk about the films

•Splinter helps them train when they ask, thought Donnie also trains on their own with just. Copious amounts of research and looking up techniques

•Splinter is also extremely overprotective of D due to both their soft shell and the fact that he lost D’s siblings previously.

•More open to active destruction than canon Don?? At least in the way that’s like. More disregarding the well-being of others sometimes. Basically this Donnie doesn’t have their brothers to stop them from doing stuff. Violence and loose morals ensue.

•Builds Shelldon earlier on in life (was lonely and wanted company)

•Don has thoroughly explored the city’s sewers and set up tons of markers so they wouldn’t get lost; they’ve practically memorized the layout underground by now. Don has also installed a filtration system in the sewers to help take care of pollution because they don’t like how icky the waters can get

•Uses more turtle noises than actual words at times

•Fights with tech bō staff, but also knows the basics of other weapons; has the second most proficiency in daggers/knives.

•Doesn’t know anything about mysticism until meeting Mars and Draxum

•Technically, Donnie meets Mars first, then Leo, then Rento. However, we later find out that Don has met one of their siblings beforehand and knew of their existence. But that’s for later.

Marciano Draxum

•Raised by Draxum

•He/they pronouns

•Goes by Mars most commonly, but other nicknames include Marc, Marcie, Mar-Mar, Marky, Marce, and Marcus

•Draxum is actually a good parent okay

•Instead of Doctor Feelings and Doctor Delicate Touch, we get Sir Feelings and Sir Delicate Touch (they’re used as ranks, it’s some class thing idk. It’s ranked below Baron is all I know)

•Feral

•At a certain age Draxum started letting them out more (with supervision) and Mars got super friendly with all the yōkai he came across!! Due to this, Draxum has a much stronger active relationship with the Hidden City yōkai community.

•Mars uses their free time to create art around the Hidden City

•Has never seen the surface; wonders what the sky looks like

•Extremely strong mystic powers that were discovered early on

•Mars knows like, everyone in the city, and by the time they’re older are allowed to go about it from the lab as he pleases.

•Has a secret fascination with humans and their stuff that he keeps from his dad

•Draxum mellows out a tad raising Mars, being fatherly and all that. Still wants to take down humanity, he just wouldn’t do it if it meant endangering his child.

•Mars is an extremely adept fighter, having trained with Draxum since they were able to.

•Secret love for Lou Jitsu movies that he found one day in the yōkai markets

•He and Leo have met before and they have a very intense rivalry. Those two. Do not like one another.

•The reason behind the name “Marciano” is that I doubted Draxum would name his kid after some human artist. “Marciano” has French, Italian, and Latin origins, though I was mainly going for Latin when I chose it. It means little warrior! The name also has a lot of relation to the Roman god of war, Mars, which also happens to be the main nickname I picked! So it fits.

•Doesn’t like to kill; would rather thoroughly incapacitate a person through extreme measures instead.

•Terrible swimmer

•Draxum’s whole place is a lot more…nice looking? It’s got more style and creativity to it. Mars helped decorate.

•Fights with kusari-fundo and hand-to-hand mostly. Also knows the basics of fighting with other weapons.

Leonardo

•Raised by Big Mama

•He/him pronouns

•Trans man

•Goes by Leo most commonly; the other in-canon nicknames still apply too

•Both outfits are colored after Leo’s pride flags

•The paint designs vary a lot, Leo likes to show variety

•After meeting Donnie, he actually starts to incorporate more purple into his color scheme!

•Gay gay gay gay gay gay GAY.

•Fights in the Battle Nexus for fun; really loves the thrill of it.

•Spoiled

•Manipulative as fuck, picked it up from his mother. EXTREMELY good at lying

•Gets bored easily and will act out to negate this feeling

•Talks a whole lot while fighting; always making jokes, trying to throw his opponents off their game. (Think Spider-Man or Deadpool)

•Leo can actually get really violent at times

•Backstory behind Leo’s name is that they had an old name when they were younger and hadn’t come out yet, but upon realizing they were trans, wanted to pick out a new name. Big Mama gave him a ton of resources and books and stuff to help with that process, but it was actually in an old book of Lou’s that had been left behind that Leo found the name “Leonardo” and went with that. It’s a really stupid coincidence, but it is what it is.

•The fact that Leo chose that name from one of Lou’s books is bittersweet for Big Mama. And kinda funny lol

•Mars and Leo have a rivalry that formed because of BM and Draxum.

•Super fond of Lou Jitsu movies, but can only ever watch them in secret

•Leo will sneak out to Hueso’s whenever he can because he feels like it’s the one place where he can relax and not have to hold up appearances

•Leo still knows Spanish in this au

•He’s still a very cocky showboat in this, just dial that up to 11.

•Mainly uses ōdachi or katanas to fight, however, Leo tends to just use whatever’s on hand in matches. Knows how to fight with a wide variety of weapons semi-professionally (and I say that loosely, Leo mostly just wings it)

•Able to use mystic powers and uses them well, but prefers not to when fighting.

•LOVES stage magic with a passion, and actually practices it in his spare time.

Rento Jones

•Raised by the Foot

•She/he pronouns

•Goes by Ren for short

•Backstory for Rento is that little Cassandra was lonely and didn’t have anyone her age in the clan, and the Foot Lieutenant & Brute ended up finding this baby snapping turtle on a whim and gave him to her as a pet. Little did they know Cass just gained a new sister instead of a pet.

•Much more prone to violence than in canon (or at least to anger)

•The name Rento has a few meanings to it, but I mainly chose it because it started with an R and it fit. And was of Japanese origin.

•Cassandra is adamant about the two of them being siblings, and since Ren didn’t have a last name of her own, Cass shared hers

•Rento is still extremely soft on the inside, but is very afraid to show that side to people he doesn’t know.

•The entire Foot Clan will annihilate you if you hurt Rento in any way

•The clan is super fond of its spiky murder reptile!

•Ren doesn’t realize what she’s doing might be seen as “wrong”, he’s just focused on helping the Foot and being proud of that. Only ever hesitates when directly hurting innocent people or animals comes into the picture.

•Rento’s only issue is with hurting innocent people or creatures; she won’t hold back if something gets in his way.

•Cass and Ren have a habit of hyping each other up

•Rento is super proud of looking big and scary cause it means she can better protect the people she cares about!

•Cass and Ren can both speak Japanese to a degree

•She has a huge collection of plushies that have either been gifts to him or were stolen from large businesses; can’t sleep without at least a few plushies around.

•Only turtle of the four who doesn’t know anything about their backstory or having siblings

•Switches between sai and tonfa to fight, but mainly sticks with the sais.

•Second-best fighter of the turtles; also knows how to fight with other weapons in basics. Mainly relies on hand-to-hand combat.

•Doesn’t know anything about mysticism

•Not very good at origami

•Loves watching Lou Jitsu movies, though Cassandra doesn’t share the enthusiasm.

#ROTTMNT #ROTTMNT au #rottmnt separated au #rise of the tmnt #my art #art #Donnie #Leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt Donnie #ROTTMNT Mikey #rottmnt Leo #rottmnt marciano #rottmnt rento #hd au #hydrodynamic au #rise

[blue-rose-soul]

the kid alastor au is so sad but so funny at the same time. like its sad because he never got to grow up properly and had to mature and a very young age, but also. imagine youre an overlord who managed to get on alastors bad side without realizing it and then the last thing you see is some ten year old boy with fluffy deer ears torturing and killing you. me personally i would NOT take that level of disrespect. plot twist alastor actually had to get husk’s soul some other way than he does in canon because no one will let him into a casino.

also, do you think he’d get along with some of the cannibal town kids, since they’re some of the few sinner children we see in hell, or does he prefer to stick by adults who dont know his identity as the radio demon, since he’s technically fairly old? would he even BE a cannibal in this au? i doubt he ever got to murder anyone as a human before he died, but since he hangs around rosie still she might have offered him a finger or two and, uh… perhaps he was always just predestined for cannibalism even without becoming a bloodthirsty serial killer in life.

Yeah, this AU is inherently hilarious and kid-shaped Alastor is keenly aware of the absurdity of his whole... thing. But he makes it work for him, especially when he's torturing Overlords. He just loves the looks on his victims faces when he reveals himself as the Radio Demon, leaning into the whole creepy kid aesthetic as he's killing them.

The thing about Alastor is that it's very difficult to keep him out of places he wants to get into. Husk first saw Alastor when he strolled right up to the high rollers table and peeked over one of the player's shoulders to see their cards.

"Ooh, that looks like a good hand!" The shark jolted, surprised by the tiny voice chirping in his ear. The King of Hearts - everyone at the table - stared in sheer disbelief at the little schoolboy-looking brat who'd had the gall to intrude at HIS table. The kid smiled, apparently unconcerned with the numerous glares fixed on him. "What the- Who the fuck are you?" the shark growled at the kid. "Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you, sirs. Quite a pleasure!" As he spoke, the kid wormed his way between two hulking shark-demons and sat his scrawny ass down at the table. "Would you happen to have room at your table for one more?" "Beat it, kid. We ain't playin' Go Fish," Husk snapped. "SECURITY!"

Security threw him out, but not two minutes later Alastor was back inside. No matter how many times Husk had Alastor tossed out, he'd just pop back in, as if by magic. Finally, Husk agreed to let Alastor play ONE GAME if he would just stay the hell out of his casino afterwards.

Well, you know how that went.

I won't say this version of Alastor is much nicer to Husk. But by present, Alastor does very much appreciate that Husk talks to him like any other adult. Like, they have their in jokes, the routine with the ID card and whatnot, but Husk of all people knows he isn't just some kid and doesn't pity him.

Well, Husk doesn't outwardly pity him.

And yeah, I do think Alastor has a sort of kinship with demon children. He doesn't consider himself one of them, fully, especially in the case of actual Hellborn kids who won't stay children forever. But since the Pride Ring is primarily made up of sinners, I think the small population of sinners who died as children and survived past their first extermination in hell probably have some sort of community. I'm not 100% certain about the cannibal kids, since I've heard conflicting information on whether Rosie and her people are Hellborn or not. Their entire design seems to set them apart from the rest of the sinners.

Regardless, Alastor is friends with Rosie in this AU, and he does become a cannibal through her influence. Although Rosie doesn't know he's the Radio Demon, she does suspect that he's more powerful than he lets on and treats him no different than any of her clients. Their friendship is pretty similar to canon with them exchanging information and favors over coffee and pinkie fingers. She even gives him details from the Overlords' meetings. When they're in private though, Alastor lets himself relax a bit, and allows Rosie to fuss over him. Alastor is a bit contradictory, and as much as he doesn't want people treating him like a child, he mourns the childhood that was violently ripped away from him and the mother he lost in that moment. When he and Rosie have these moments, it feels for a moment like he really is a kid again.

#ask #saltwatersweets #great url #Hazbin Hotel #Kid Alastor AU #Alastor #Husk (Hazbin Hotel) #Rosie (Hazbin Hotel) #I'd say kid Alastor enjoys the company of kids and adults in different ways #his closest and most trusted friends are adults #but he'll stop and randomly join in the games he sees the kids in Cannibal Town play on the street #and always be welcomed #he'll kind of swing back and forth between acting more childlike and more adultlike depending on the company he's in #or if he wants to piss someone off (Husk)

[nordickies]

I have a question, are nations seen as ordinary people or are they seen as famous, like they are celebrities?

How unhinged do you want me to get about this topic? I have so many thoughts but no skills to write them down in a comprehensible manner. I have a lot of ideas on how Nations could potentially work in their universe, so exploring ideas like this is fun. The canon gives us some hints about it, but I love deep-diving into stuff. As a warning, this is how I view the situation and use it in my interpretations. I tag my thoughts on the nationverse as Nordickies Nationverse AU - so just to clarify, I don't even try to explain the canon with this! This is, once again, just my own thoughts and ideas. Feel free to implement them in your work.

The way I think Nations work, it would be impossible to see them as totally detached from the public consciousness. After all, they work for their government - their job description is to represent their country, domestically and internationally. But, how they're supposed to represent their state is a bit different than, say, a Head of State (like a president) would. They're not political personas; in fact, they would probably be pressed to be excessively apolitical. Their political rights would be almost certainly stripped away. They're not equal to their country's citizens in that regard.

While a Head of State would represent a country in diplomatic and political settings, a Nation would represent a country in entertainment, so to speak. These immortals don't hold any authority, so the only purpose they would have is to entertain people - Be the symbolic figure for people who share a national identity. This also makes Nations more people-oriented, easily approachable, and relatable. They regularly visit schools, hospitals, and ceremonies, work as a spokesperson for humanitarian organizations, appear at national celebrations or major events, support their athletes in international competitions, do interviews, etc.

And, of course, a massive part of their job is to uphold relationships with fellow Nations, which is a form of entertainment in itself. That's what the World Meetings are all about, for example. They're not political meetings, and they don't decide anything there. It's like a massive corporate party, just a chance for all the Nations to gather in one place for half a week and have fun. Keep up appearances, meet coworkers, and do networking. It's almost a facade sometimes, but the intentions are good. I think the Nations enjoy that particular side of their job more than anything.

But it hasn't always been like this, and I think the role of Nations has changed a lot throughout history. This sort of "celebrity" status only developed through celebrity culture and expectations of the modern world. Every Nation views their role differently, primarily based on their culture, personality, and even global status. The USA is far more famous than, say, a micronation. Some Nations love the luxurious celebrity lifestyle and genuinely love to meet and work with their people. But others prefer to keep to themselves and avoid publicity as much as possible outside work hours. I don't think there even is an agreed standard on what kind of role a Nation is expected to serve, to be honest - it's all determined by the local culture and government, not to mention Nations that don't even have an independent state! To summarize, some are far more public and famous than others.

But, this public role does come with a heavy burden. Being the representative of potentially millions of people means that Nations are not individuals anymore. They're not supposed to have needs, desires, or opinions - especially if those diverge from the masses or conflict with their state's interests. They don't even have an individual name anymore, and they just carry the name of their land. Their personal experiences don't matter because they're not a person anymore.

Every single thing they do can be praised or criticized (especially nowadays through social media). When their people are divided, whose side are they going to take? Do they serve their people or their government? Who do they really represent at the end of the day? Their government tells them that they represent the people, the nation. But their people may see them as the face of the system. And maybe, in their heart, they don't feel a particular connection to either of them. But that's a scary thought because if they're not here to serve their nation, then what is their purpose?

They didn't exactly ask for this role; they were just put into this situation. Nations don't know what they're doing or why they are here, but they feel this sense of duty and responsibility to be here for their people. Their personal needs, feelings, or even opinions don't matter. They have grown up thinking that they're here for humanity, not for themselves. But sometimes, they catch themselves thinking how unfair it is. They're expected to be perfect, to conform to the norms others have assigned to them. They can't disappoint people, but always put their best face forward and be the picture-perfect representative. But let's be real here, it's always going to be impossible to please everyone. They probably have loud critics, and what would entertainment be without scandals and controversies? It's such a fascinating and complex part of Nations' existence that I love to explore in the Nationverse.

Ah, I got off the rails, but I seriously have so many thoughts on the whole concept. I love developing this AU. I'm a logical person, and I must make sense of everything. I adore overanalyzing media, especially silly media like this. So, figuring out the small details of Nationverse is always fun for me. It really gets my creativity going because I'm curious about worldbuilding overall. If you didn't get it, I apologize. But if you did, I applaud you.

TL;DR: They're celebrities/public figures, but their level of fame and willingness to interact in celebrity culture is totally dependent on their personality and role in society. Some bathe in the public light, and some avoid it like the plague. It's a source of fluff and angst in this AU; I love it <3

#nordickies nationverse au

[beepersteeper]

I Will Always Find You -- Astarion x Tav -- The First Day

Astarion and F!Tav live happily together for the remaining years she has, she refuses to be turned into a vampire because her faith says that her soul isn’t finished with its work yet. Tav dies of old age and leaves Astarion to put together the pieces of his broken heart. AN: Lord of Light lore taken and changed to fit the story's means. Not canonically accurate. TLDR story line stuff. This is an AU where Astarion ascends but isn't a power hungry bastard and Tav is able to help him continue healing. Wyll is immortal and the Duke. Karlach in my mind, if given a new engine would be able to live a lot longer than the usual tiefling. Another AN: idk if anyone wants tagged in this WIP but let me know. 

For the first time in years. That heavy ache in his chest returns. He sits in a high backed chair next to the door, unwilling to lay in the bed. Rest finds him at some point through the long night and he slumps in the chair until he's awoken by a gentle knock on the door 

“Lord Ancunín?"

He mumbles a half-hearted response 

“Do you require anything my Lord?" 

"Breakfast will do nicely. Thank you.” he says through the closed door.

He hears an affirmative answer and stands to stretch his poor spine. He opens the old oak wardrobe and sighs as he carefully passes his hand over the dresses that Tav hadn't worn in years, even before she passed. I am too old for such pagentries. He heard her voice in his mind save those dresses for when I come back to you, she'll wear them better than I can anyway. Tell her I want her to wear them if she is too polite to wear my old clothes. I bet she likes the green one. He would have rolled his eyes at her then, just like he did now. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. He walked over and cracked the door open to retrieve the gold goblet from the tray.

“It’s still warm my lord." The man nods a bow to Astarion.

Astarion nods in response and closes the door before raising the goblet to his lips. He sucks the blood from his teeth grimacing slightly. He hasn't tasted animal blood in years, having met many villains in his wanderings, but it is nice drinking from a goblet again so he will take it as a win, making a note to himself to get new alliances for willing donors. That's the way Tav preferred him to feed if it wasn't from her.

He returns to the wardrobe and pulls out a dark outfit, one of his less regal ones. He walks into the washroom attached to their room, stopping to smell the bottles of perfume and oils. The ache in his chest tightens when he opens a pale oil with a heart on the label around a T. Peaches and champagne. He sighs as he breathes in her scent. Like a nice summer day she would laugh as he closed his eyes and breathed the scent from her skin just in case you ever miss the sun before he had chosen to ascend.

He shakes his head as he closes the vial and dresses himself and hurriedly leaves the room walking through these still familiar halls. He stops in to let Wyll know he's leaving for the day but will be back by evening should he be needed. Wyll happily waves Astarion away to enjoy his day “Nothing major happening today, signing budgets. Enjoy your day Astarion."

Astarion taps twice on the doorframe before leaving to walk through the Alley ways to make his way to the cemetery. Wanting to feel close to Tav again. He set himself on the earth, leaning his back on his own headstone crossing his arms over his chest and his ankles across each other as he reclined into the stone, rocking his head back facing the sky with his eyes closed feeling the warm sun in his always fair skin. He tries to seek a feeling of connection with his love. He hears a light voice whispering to themselves, he assumes. He listens attentively, surprised to hear talking.

“What am I?" the voice mutters a question he had heard Tav recite, looking into the reflection of a strange shaped item. A beacon she called it. It's the last question I need to answer before I spend eternity with you love. “What are you?!” The voice said more harshly “and what more do I need? What do you want from me!?”

Astarion heard soft footsteps approaching his direction. Hoping for a coincidence he didn't move his body at all. When the steps continued closer and stopped too close for his comfort he opened his eyes and turned his head seeing the woman from last night tracing her fingers over the engraving on Tav’s headstone. Now more able to see her features, about as tall as him, slender, deep black hair with pointed elven ears peaking through. 

“Maybe you would have been able to tell me." She sighs “Tavilline"

Astarion chuckles mostly to himself before saying quietly “she preferred to just be called Tav.” not moving his body.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to intrude.” the woman says, taking her hand from the stone quickly and taking a step back.

He waves his hand gesturing that there was no harm done “Not at all. Just haven't been able to visit in a while. You've been keeping her company though it seems?" He looks at her face meeting her green eyes, feeling his breath catch in his throat. Tav's eyes. No. He thinks to himself, blinking away the idea. 

The woman laughs uncomfortably “I guess so. When I first moved here this was the only place outside of my own home I saw the Lord of Light imagery and have just kind of been drawn to her. And it's just strange that the day she started over was the same as mine” she shrugs the last sentence. 

“She was very attached to her faith." He sighs “even had one of those beacons she would study every night." he points to he object in her hand

“She had a beacon too?!" The woman all but jumps from herself. “That's impossible, what are the odds of so many being in the same city."

He smiles a half hearted smile. “If I come across it I can bring it here. You'll do more with it than I will." He shrugs, expecting to feel guilty at offering Tav's belongings away, but instead he feels excited to share something of hers with someone she's oddly connected to. 

“Sir if you really mean that I will be forever in your debt. I work at the bookstore" she gestures to the holy books book store that shares a sidewalk with the cemetery.

“Astarion." He shakes his head “I'll see what I can do darling." He feels bile form in his throat as he calls her Tav's pet name. 

She bends at her knees crouching as if trying to contain excitement and looks him in his eyes. “Thank you so much sir- Astarion. I am needed in the shop but thank you so much.” She turns to walk away stopped by Astarion speaking

“I didn't catch your name." He states implying a question

"Ta’Vira." She smiles “but my friends call me Vira."

“And what should I call you?" He was shocked by hearing his honeyed voice flowing freely from his lips.

"I haven't decided yet.” She jokes pushing her hair behind her shoulder. “I'll see you around Astarion."

He nods his head down to her, motioning his hand as if tipping an invisible hat “til next time." Before leaning back onto his own headstone. "I'm sorry my love." He sighs quietly to himself wanting for something, but knowing that there aren't such things as signs. After spending a little more time with her plot and his thoughts he stands and takes the long way back to the palace to look for Tav's beacon. Humoring himself as he walks he thinks about what if.

What if she was right and she would be back for another life? 

What if she was right and they would be able to find one another? 

What if this Ta’vira was his Tav?

He stops himself at the last thought. There's no way. He thought. There will never be another like my love. He walks quietly through the halls to their room and sits in the tall backed chair again. He sits with his knees crossed and he tries to remember where her beacon would have been put away. He squints toward their bed and slowly stands walking to stand at her side of the bed. He runs his hand over the soft blanket leaving trails from his touch on it. Astarion kneels down and pulls a wooden crate across the floor with a screech and pries open the dusty top.

In the box he finds several of Tav's favorite things. Her journal, some jewelry, a painting she commissioned of the old crew from the 6 month reunion with withers. Karlach was holding the adamantine longsword to harken back to a funny and unspoken day of adventure, her beacon, her emerald ring she wore every day from the day he gave it to her on their wedding day. Odds and ends, little trinkets she picked up throughout her life and the last thing he pulled from the box was a blood stained handkerchief with his and her initials embroidered onto the corner. He sat cross legged on the floor surrounded by the things that she treasured, feeling a smile creep across his lips. 

He turned the handkerchief over in his hands, chuckling remembering how hard she tried to remove the stains from the cloth that she used each time he fed from her. Why did it have to be white she would whine scrubbing it in the sink. He would remind her she could have a new one or a different one at any moment but you made this one for me. He had embroidered his own handkerchief with their initials as a gift after she was willing to stay with him, even after he confessed his initial motives for courting her. A new one wouldn't be the same she’d whine again. He brought the cloth to his face hoping to still find her scent locked away in this crate. It was there. It was faint and stale, but it was there. A scent that he would be able to pick up anywhere. He sighed and replaced all of her belongings back into the crate folding the cloth delicately and placing it on top of her journal. Sealing the lid as tightly as possible.

He held the cumbersome beacon in his hands. Turning it over and over in his palms looking at all of its angles and almost without really thinking he whispered to it “what are you?" Reciting the question like he had seen Tav do millions of times. Like he had heard Ta’vira do today. His mind was flooded with white light, the warm feeling of light seems to emanate from the tips of his ears to the souls of his feet. Uncomfortable with the sudden feeling he dropped it in his lap. “What are you?!" He said more harshly. “What in the sweet hells was that?!" Asking the beacon out loud scowling at it. He lifts it again, holding it without speaking, feeling an energy pulse between his hands. 

“Who are you?" He changes the verse. Nothing happened. “Who am I?" Again nothing. “What am I?" Nothing still. “What are you?" The warmth of the light returns less off-putting than before. He sat in that space for a long time, trying to feel or see the answer many before him had asked. Not seeing or feeling anything more than a comfortable warm light he dropped the beacon back in his lap. He tucks it into a bag and carries it over his shoulder. He spends the remainder of the day looking through his library for any books on the Lord of Light. He finds several and he loses himself in his studies, only interrupted by Wyll knocking on the door.

“Everything okay Astarion?"

He shrugs and pushes the book away from himself "Will you humor me for a moment?” 

Wyll nods and sits next to Astarion

"Hold this bloody thing and ask “what are you?" And tell me if you notice anything.” Astarion urges digging the beacon from his bag.

With a confused turn of his face Wyll obliges asking the question. Wylls eyes meet Astarions before he says “I don't notice anything…”

Astarion nods and purses his lips and thanks Wyll for his time.

“Should I have your dinner brought here for you?” Wyll asks passing the beacon back to him carefully “What are you looking for?”

Astarion nods about dinner "Tav. I'm looking for Tav. I might be crazy but I think she's closer to me here than she was on any of my travels.”

“If you need any help you will let me know.” Wyll says implying his concern

Astarion nods in return to his book. The night turns to dawn from the library. He sits, stands, paces and leans in all different places within the stacks. At some point he wakes up laying on a sofa with a book in one hand and the beacon in the other with soft morning light shining through a stained glass window. He closes the book and stands to stretch. His curiosity wins out over his exhaustion as he looks to the beacon again. "What are you?” The warm light returns this time  and image of hands being held flashes quickly before the blinding light returns

“That's even less helpful.” He scolds the shining metal. “And now I'm talking to you.” He chuckles at his own mania. He packs it and several books into his pack. He quickly changes into clean and simple clothes with a jacket and rushes out the door to head to the cemetery. He arrives and quickly unloads his bag and talks out loud to Tav like she was there.

“What does this all mean?" He gestures to the open books “why does this thing make my brain light up like the sun? Is that the question you need to answer?" He sighs holding the beacon again. “What are you?” The feeling and light are even stronger than before. He hisses and drops the object in the grass. “Bloody hell!” He rubs his eyes trying to ease the pain from the light he saw. Interrupted when he heard his name from behind him.

“Astarion?”

He jumped, startled only to relax when he saw it was Ta’vira. “Oh hello,” he waves “I just wanted to bring this to Tav before handing it over to you.” He shrugs and tries to play it cool. “Probably sounds silly but…” He trails off when ta’vira knelt next to him.

“Not silly. Not at all" she reassures “it's respectful if anything. Do you think she'd be okay with that?” she adds looking from him to Tav’s headstone.

He nods “I do. But can you first tell me what you see or feel when you talk to this blasted thing?”

She looks at the metal in his hands “When I hold any of mine they're each different. One is low hums that reverberate through my bones. One is the darkest dark I've ever witnessed. Total nothingness. One shows me red, wet bloody red. But it's not as scary as it sounds” she laughs “what does that one do?” She asks, tilting her head to the side.

“Different things for different people I think.” He shakes his head, handing it to her carefully and speaking in a bit of a ramble. “Tav would say it was a bright flickering candle light, my friend said he didn't feel anything change. But when I ask it it's a blinding light that's so bright and warm it almost hurts. And I've seen hands holding each other.”

#astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion fluff #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #astarion long fig #soft ascended astarion #astarion romance #astarion x mc

[rise-my-angel]

New Year New Games

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Female Reader

Length: 16.3k

Warnings: Nanny au, slight canon divergence, reader with powers, mutual pining, masturbtion, angst/hurt comfort, happy ending, smut, handjobs, p in v

Notes: Big thank you to @thewayofthemandalorian for letting me borrow the idea about Marcus's wife and caring for a younger Missy from Afraid To Jinx It 💜

You knew you weren’t getting out of this one. You had already skipped out on the Christmas party, and nearly everyone had commented on it. On the Monday you arrived at work and the first thing Marcus said to you was, “You didn’t come to the party? We- everyone was excited to see you.” Followed by a few vaugley annoyed emails from others in the office about you not showing up. Apparently your presence in the building was missed and you’re excuse of something coming up at the last minute was not accepted. 

Now though? You had been walked right into a trap just to coax you into saying yes. Ms Vox and Lavagirl had insisted in meeting up with you for lunch, claiming it had been so long since they’d seen you and wanted to catch up. You had Missy with you that afternoon, so you hoped she would be a good distraction for them. Failing to remember that she obviously was at the party, and wouldn’t be distracted by her charm this time around. 

“No one has seen you in forever. We miss you.” Vox was unfair. Toning her voice up to sound so sweet and enticing while bashing her well painted eyes at you. Lavagirl was a little more straight forward in intention, but stayed silent to let her friend play the guilt trip game. “There’s no way you aren’t at least a little bit tired of working in Moreno’s house day in and day out.” 

Except that was the opposite reason you didn’t go to the party. It was over half a year ago when Marcus’s wife had left. Signed her parental rights off and moved overseas to focus her life entirely on laboratory research. None of you were quite sure why she had to leave her family behind to do so, but judging by Marcus’s not so heartbroken response you suspected it was at least something that had been building up for a while. 

That’s where you came in. Your ability wasn’t special enough to put you in the prestigious league of Heroics, but kept you around them so long most of them considered you a friend. You could keep it dormant and that’s where you preferred to keep it. Ullr they called you, or when they tried to tease you about it, ‘God of Gambling’. You could use it to win any kind of direct amble, bet, or traditional game. You couldn’t bet on the horses, but you would always win a game of pool. 

Turns out, having such a specific skill set didn’t have much use in a combative world, and more often then not you were designated for office duty. Then Marcus’s wife left, and he found himself with a three year old Missy and no one to care for her when he was gone. So you volunteered. Coming here to only find out that the very team you were hired on to join, had no use for you made you feel left out. 

Tossed aside because what were you supposed to do? Fight aggressive, violent bad guys by challenging them to rock, paper scissors? “If I win six out of ten you have to promise to stop murdering.” Yeah that would solve the problem. So you forced it back, kept it dormant and tried to find purpose here, until Marcus needed help. 

It was a long talk when you approached him about leaving your job here and being a nanny to his daughter. You needed a purpose after the only one you were told you were destined for got ripped away for it’s uselessness. But half a year later you felt no regrets. 

Missy adored you as much as you adored her, and Marcus felt much more like a close friend than a boss now. Which was why you skipped the party. He to you, felt too much like a close friend and you had a bad habit of falling for close friends. 

You spent enough time as it was in his personal life, and the last thing you wanted was to come off as clingy or attached. You invaded their lives, their home enough as it was he didn’t need you in his home for an office party with people you didn’t even work with anymore. So you claimed something came up, but now the two women sat across from you at the tiny round table felt like they were closing in on the lie. 

“I’m not above dragging you out of your apartment by force to get you to go.” Your forehead fell into your hand as you sighed. Lavagirl wasn’t above making a scene and your nerves lit with anxiety at the prospect of being the subject of it. She leaned in across the table trying to catch your eyes. “You haven’t done anything fun for yourself since even before you left. It’s just one party and we’ll stop pestering you about them. Until the next one.” 

Your eyes dragged up to her, flat and amused as you tilted to rest your cheek on your palm. You did have fun actually, both with Missy and the more quiet hours you spent with Marcus when he comes home. Just spending time with him like you were regular friends. “What if midnight’s just too late for me?” 

Now Lavagirl was the one to give you the flat look. “Please how many times did I come back from a mission around eleven at least and there you were still working away? You’re telling me in what? 6 months you’ve changed and now abide by a bed time like a good girl? I can’t even get my own daughter to do that.” 

Your body dropped, eyes drifting off to the side of nothing as you sighed. If you showed up, did the rounds, made an impression as people were excited to see you maybe you could sneak out during a quiet lull when no one was looking. You were quiet for a moment, mind lost in thought as you sat unmoving. 

Vox’s quiet call of your name along with a cutesy “Please?” just sent prickles all over your skin. Raking across your arms and down into your chest. These were your friend’s once upon a time. It wasn’t their fault or choice that Ms. Granada kicked you out of the league. 

Before you could really think about it, a small hand tapped at your arm. You looked beside you to Missy’s wide brown eyes just as bright as her dads. “Daddy says I can come too. I can keep you company if you’re sad!” 

Christ almighty, her puppy dog eyes were just as manipulative as Marcus’s as well. His magnetic manipulation might not have been inherited, but apparently his adorable wide eyed convincing skills sure were. 

You ran a hand over her hair, noting in the back of your mind to braid it when you both got home so she didn’t have snow soaked hair dripping all over the floor. You didn’t even notice that you called the Moreno house home. Not her home, or even their home. Just home.

Warmth filled your heart as you looked at her, and flickered your eyes back over to the hopeful looks of your friends. Answering Missy was easier then answering them. So you pulled her head slightly towards you to press a kiss to the top of her head. 

Pulling back you put a hand over your heart, voice enunciated and exaggeratedly formal. “I’d be honoured Madam Moreno to have you escort me to the New Year’s Ball.” 

Her little face scrunched up in thought, whipping her head around like she was about to reveal a secret only to slide halfway off her seat to whisper to whisper, “What’s a New Year Ball?” 

Grinning, you cupped your hand around her ear, whispering just loud enough for Vox and Lavagirl to hear as well. “Like the fancy castle party in Cinderella.” Immediately her eyes lit up and clapped, voice loud and almost in a giddy ‘yay’. Catching eyes of other people in the cafe, but only attracting melted hearts of you and the other two at your table. 

She stuck her pinky out and waited for you to return it, as she gave a fond smile before looking to the others. “You can’t pick me up though. Give me time to get ready, alright? It’s been a while since I’ve been around everyone at once.” 

They gave you that at least. The rest of the afternoon was easy going. You spent much time in Missy’s room combing through her closet and drawer of little costumes trying to find a pretty dress that sparkled just like Cinderellas. Sitting on her bed, short legs waving back and forth as she tapped at her cheek trying to decide if she wanted a pretty tiara to go with it.  

By the time you heard Marcus’s car pull into the driveway you already had Missy in her seat at the kitchen table munching on baby carrots as you put the finishing touches on her dinner. As you heard the front door open, Marcus sweetly called Missy’s name. 

Her head whipped over to you, hair flying across her face from the swish, eyes wide and begging. Just a nod of your head and she jumped from her seat and ran into the other room. Judging by the clash of fabric, no doubt dashing straight into Marcus’ chest in a hug. You tried not to pay attention, or even look his way.

Hopefully he would make his usual plea that you shouldn’t feel obligated to make dinner, let alone set out a plate for himself and not you. Shake his head at your insistence that you enjoyed it and he’d leave it at that. You didn’t want him to bring up new years and immediately key out whatever lie you’d come up on the spot with. 

You only planned on visiting for a short while, avoid having to interact with him in a fun, champagne fueled get together where he’d let loose much more naturally. You could avoid your feelings when you still worked at the head quarters, distracted by non stop running around and being dragged by your ankles into office politics. Here you had Missy. You were hired to make her your priority so you could shove those feelings aside in favour of being a good caregiver and role model for her. 

But a party you had no obligations, and there would be no filter or work around to avoid him. Marcus wanted you to come to the Christmas party so much, he would be thrilled to see you at this one.

Lost in thought, you missed Marcus’s entrance to the kitchen. His presence only making itself known as you jumped at the press of his warm hand at your back and deep voice rumble in your ear. “I’ve told you, cariño. If you insist on making me dinner when you don’t have to, please make some for yourself too.” 

From the corner of your eye you could see his chin nod out to the only two plates set up one with a purposely fun Missy friendly assortment of food while the other clearly set up or Marcus with a little green bean salad on the side that neither you or your tiny ward would ever touch. “And I’ve told you, sir that I take on enough time with Missy as it is. She needs alone father daughter time.” 

Still not looking him in the eye, you grabbed the plates and swivelled out of his closeness by rushing out the long way to the table. Even a drink set out in a nice glass was there. Leaning down to Missy’s level you put her plate in front of her. “Remember, veggies first. So you can-” 

Her bright eyes shined up at you with a proud smile, “So I can end on the tasty parts?” You grinned at her and pulled her in to kiss the top of your head. You could only see enough of Marcus to know that pulled off his tie and undone enough buttons to let his chest breathe. 

But you still didn’t look at him as you left the room to put your jacket on. Marcus though was faster then you could leave, turning the corner as he called your name. Reluctantly you turned your head and instantly regretted it. His glasses were off so it gave a completely unobstructed view of his eyes that screamed warmth. “Are you going to be there tomorrow night?” 

You told yourself the hopeful look on him was your imagination. “I uh..” 

Marcus closed in on you, his gaze never straying from your shifting eyes. “Her abuela is taking her home if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Christ how did a man with such a sharp power and commanding presence radiate a sweet energy that it could rot a tooth if indulged in too much. You switched your weight back and forth on your feet, knowing if you lied to him now you would secure him approaching you directly at the party about it. 

So you sighed nonchalantly and nodded. “I think so.” You looked up at him in the most fake casual manner. Maybe you really did deserve to be booted from the team, you couldn’t lie convincingly with a gun to your head. “Hard to say no when Vox gets on you about something, right?” 

His eyes squinted in thought towards you for the briefest of flashes before chuckling. The bass flying directly into your veins and flowed throughout with a guilty desire. A fond smile graced his features as he took a final step towards you, a hand gently finding a spot cupping your wrist that hovered by your chest still attached to your zipper. “I- good. We all just want to see you have fun for once. You work too hard.” 

If Marcus could feel the muscles in your arm tightening, he didn’t say anything. The needy part of your brain just begging for him to slide up just centimeters more and lock his think fingers with your small ones. But you simply finished zipping your jacket up hoping the movement would lose him. It didn’t, his touch followed the trail up to your shoulders only to burn your neck where he moved his touch to lightly cup the side of your neck and just under your jaw. “I’m serious. I want you to go, see everyone again and have fun. You deserve it, alright?” 

The rough pad of his fingers had your pulse explode into overdrive, again if he noted, not a word was said. You needed to get out of there. The longer you felt Marcus in your space, the more his comforting cologne scent filled your nostrils the more you couldn’t breathe. He didn’t wear know how weak being so close made you feel and you couldn’t deal with that right now. 

So you just forced a tight closed mouth smile and nodded. “I don’t know about that, but I promise to stop by.” You turned to open the door, yelling a goodbye to Missy only to be accosted by her tiny frame bumping into your legs. 

“Wait you need a pretty dress too!” Without thinking you crouched down to her height with an eyebrow raised. “The Cinderella ball, if I’m a princess you are too.” Turning in place she looked up to the currently impressive height of her father. “Daddy she needs a matching dress!” 

You laughed genuinely this time. “I promise I have a princess dress that will match yours perfectly.” To be honest you’re not sure you did but a promise was a promise to the mini Moreno and you’d have to spend the afternoon searching for one. 

You stood up to leave again, seeing Marcus with such a warm gaze towards you and what looked like a smile you told yourself wasn’t for you. You looked down at Missy as she gave one last request. “Glass slippers too! For the prince remember?” 

It didn’t occur to you that as she said it, her grabbing onto her dad in a cuddling hug was anything more then just an innocent hug. Marcus knew what she did, but you didn’t. “Glass slippers. Check.” 

Stepping out onto the porch you turned back as Marcus said your name once more. “Goodnight, cariño.” 

You felt your face flush, but bent your head somewhat out of sight. “Goodnight, sir.” Before finally taking off. He was itching to say something about the formality, you just knew it but didn’t bother giving him the chance too. 

On the way home, you ended up stopping by a little dress shop just to see. Missy ended on a poofy sparkling blue dress, much darker like a midnight blue but it was the closest you both could get to the dress from the movie. You already had an idea on what to wear, there was a simple deep orange dress that was a tad bit boring that would have sufficed. 

But here you were, looking for a deep blue dress just to you could make the little girl you watch happy for one evening. You couldn’t say no to her hopeful face, the bright shining one she got from her father and the one you avoided on him as much as possible. 

Settling on one similar in colour, you draped it over your bedroom door with a pair of nicer shoes tucked against the wall nearby. If you turned your light back on, you’d be able to see the dress. Watch as it mocks you for even thinking impressing either Morenos mattered. The love and affection you had towards them was real and tangible, and it just made you feel wrong for ever contemplating dropping any kind of hints. He was your boss no matter which job title you held and having the person he hired to care for his daughter fawn over him wasn’t appropriate.  

That thought though, didn’t cease to creep back into your mind as your fingers trailed down to your clit the longer sleep evaded you. You didn’t start with Marcus in your mind but he floated back in, buzzing your senses and losing your breathe to it. His tall warmth that could engulf you, burying you deep with the deep cadence he spoke to softly in.

Images of a face so handsome that if he worked at a normal office, he’d surely have women fawn all over him everyday. But you saw his domestic side, how his soft features glowed under the lack of eyes and pressure atop his shoulders. 

The more your core tightened in need, the more breathy the quiet noises you made felt. If you made as little noise as possible, even in your silent home, you might be able to pretend you weren’t teetering towards an orgasm at the phantom of the innocent touches he graced you with. 

Not knowing that Marcus felt a similar tightening of his own, only he let those thoughts dominate his mind and felt no shame for what his senses blew over him. 

Missy tucked into bed, he finally found time to wash off the day in the shower. Starting off with no agenda, but as the water grew colder, his thoughts grew stronger. Your wide eyed face whenever he was close to you haunted him. He wanted that look underneath him, on it’s knees before him, and Marcus desperately wanted to see how much he could morph it with wherever you’d let his cock inside of you. 

He begun gripping the base of his cock without much conscious effort, squeezing just tight enough to set the nerves inside him alight. One hand was braced above his head flat against the tile wall, the other keeping such a tight grip he could only stroke up and down slowly. You had never touched him in anyway that could be interpreted sexually but the memory of your hands on his skin burned an invisible imprint on the spots. 

Marcus had cupped part of your face in his hand tonight, he was so close to being able to pull you into him and find out what your lips feel like. Lips that he needed to feel all over his body. A shiver rippled down his spine at the thought and travelled into his cock with a slight twitch. 

His strokes slid faster and faster, never ceasing the tight roughness he held. The throb throughout it yearned to find out just how snug your pussy compared to his own grip. What you’d sound like the first time he eased himself into your pretty body. Marcus thought it would be soft, a quiet, reserved gasp that he wanted to fuck out of your worries. 

His thumb rubbed over his tip as he groaned, the ghost of a fantasy kneeling in front of him. Each rub imagined itself as sweet little kitten licks you’d tease him with. Your alluring eyes shut or refusing to look up at him in shyness there even in his fantasy. 

In tandem with the ghost in front of him, his hand slid down suddenly from braced above him to the shower lever. Just as the image of the same hand gripping your hair and guiding your head to sink down over his cock flashed just as he purposely turned the level to heat up. 

The slight burn from the shock of just too high temperatures so suddenly, the steam fogging up the entire room blended with his groans. Your beautiful self that walked and worked through his home like it was your own, the need you had to take care of even him had his jaw clench at the angry need to make you feel it in return. 

Through gritted teeth his strokes slid faster up and down his cock as your name moaned out from his lips. He felt no shame for how much he wanted his touch to be you, no shame for how much he saved your kind, innocent actions in his mind to jerk off too when he was alone. 

You were a beautiful creature in mind and in body, and Marcus was desperate to prove it. As his orgasm waved through him, the spurts of cum painting the tiles should have been your tits, your stomach even your ass. His cum was on his shower wall when it should be painted all over you. 

Yours was less satisfying. Nothing more then a shiver and dull fire that faded just as unimpressive as it’s size. You withheld his name on your tongue, and as you turned to the side you refused to pull a pillow into you to cuddle. You didn’t want to flame an unfair fantasy. It wasn’t Marcus you were cuddling into you, and you’d end up imagining no matter what if you tried. 

So you fell asleep, frustrated at the your petulant attitude of having to go to a party with people who want you there. Show up, praise Missy for her beautiful princess appearance, chit chat and then sneak out when no one was looking. 

Simple plan, but just like your original plan of being hired into the heroics team, fate would refuse to let it play out as you tried so hard to. 

It had surprised you that your biometrics still worked. You showed up to the outside of the complex with a long coat wrapped tightly around you to protect from the cold, but even in the tram to the main building you refused to let it up even a little. 

You felt exposed in this dress now that you weren’t alone in a tiny dressing room. The deep blue with a shining sparkle felt louder then the amount it even showed of your skin. Your arms draped and covered by it’s long material and the calves sticking out from where the dress landed at your knees were covered in a tight black leggings. You wore no more or less clothing then you’d ever worn in that building but it still felt suffocatingly bright. 

A few faces you didn’t know directed you to the main level where the event was taking place, undoing the front of your jacket as you did so. Trying to swallow the pounding of your heart at how shining it was already. Unfortunately for you, any chance at entering quietly was dashed as soon as you stepped into the elevator. Running in just before the doors begun to close, was a familiar flock of blonde hair and a tinge of an accent that never knew what an indoor voice was. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” 

Your head fell back with a jolt as you turned partially to look at the man. Miracle Guy held an excited grin and arms wide open for a hug that he pulled you into as he continued his rant. “Half a year we don’t see you and you show up on new years looking like a five coarse meal, darlin’?”

 

Mouth slightly agape, you shook the surprise off your face. “It’s uh, nothing special- your suit looks good, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in just black and white.” You shifted the attention elsewhere, Miracle Guy looked rather handsome, black pants and a white blazer trimmed with a matching black with what appeared to be a casual white long sleeve underneath. And there was no chance he didn’t want to boast about it. 

He pulled back and spread his arms out like a showcase, “My body helped pick it out. I’m telling you he got an eye for flash already.” He put a hand on his heart with a mock act of choked up, “I’m so proud.” 

You half smirked as you rolled your eyes, once again pulling your coat to hide your dress once more as you turned back to the doors. “Good to know that some things never chance.” 

Miracle Guy chuckled beside you, “Don’t worry, darlin’ I guarantee no one around here’s changed since you left. You’re in good hands.” Just as the doors opened, he shoved you a bit to go in front of him completely oblivious that being the subject of his dramatics was the last thing you wanted. 

A skilled hero and good man, but one of the most casually dumb person you know. Passing a newly installed rack of hooks, clearly for the line of jackets currently decorating the entrance hallway Miracle Guy pulled off your jacket with no warning. 

Making you fall back slightly with a yelp, now you were out there. Your conservative skin covering outfit ready to trick you into feeling all eyes on it. Miracle Guy’s hands patted down on your shoulders and walked you forward, the volume of the party just out of view around the corner. “Time to swallow those nerves, gotta show off our sparkling guest of honour in her strangely sparkling dress.” 

You weren’t really sure what he said to announce you. All you could feel were eyes, too many eyes snapping over to you in too many emotions. They all were a blur as your heart pounded in your ears, being approached by a multitude of people. Most of which were your short lived teammates. 

Vox was unfairly stunning as usual yet in gentle muted tones, contrasting with the black dress on Lavagirl that did nothing to take away the brightness of her hair. You were pretty certain it was physically impossible to actually dye her hair. 

You didn’t really like the fawning. It was sweet of them to compliment you, but there was just so many people suddenly around you. Marcus was just out of sight near the other end of the room with a very similar blue blob in his arms, no doubt helping Missy show how excited she was about her dress. Next to him was Ms Granada, probably the one person you wanted to talk too less then Marcus. 

Luckily you were being dragged off closer to the bar area to be persuaded with an open tab. Eventually were you talked into have at least one since it was early on enough that driving later wouldn’t be an issue. For a while, things fell back into a calmer place.

You may just have been able to get out on time. Suddenly your name was being called as the midnight blue blob ran over to you, her dress shining in the light and her hair in a pretty little up do. You tried to push down the thought that Marcus spent time and patience doing her hair up so nicely and certainly not picture it. 

Hopping off the stool, you crouched down to her and welcomed her hug. Fixing her tiara as her impact made it fall off to the side you didn’t see the approaching figure. “And you were afraid you two weren’t going to look the same.” 

Startled by his voice, you stayed frozen crouched on the ground as Marcus picked up Missy, turning her in his hold so she could look at him properly. “Can’t be outshining you now can I?” He leaned in closer to her as she shook her head no, whispering something in Spanish too quiet for you to try and pickup. 

All you could see was Missy suddenly wide eyed and determined looking as she nodded yes this time before looking at you. “I have to go! Secret mission!” 

Laughing you said “okay,” before standing up close to Marcus to give Missy a kiss on the forehead before he put her down. Both turning your torsos to the side to watch her run off across the room to where her grandmother stood chatting with what was likely an old colleague. You chuckled to yourself, the admiration you had for her soared higher every day it felt. 

Braving a chance, you looked back up at Marcus, instantly regretting it. His hair was done, not pristine or slicked back but loose and wavy, the curls on him so soft and appetizing. Just a neat dark blue button up with far too many buttons undone at the chest and sleeves rolled up his forearms and black jeans to finish it off. Your heart fluttered at how handsome he was. 

“Turns out I wasn’t the only one she wanted to match with.” You tilted your head just the slightest in confusion before his eyes took a peek down to your dress and back up, never leaving your figure. In his eyes there was a flash of something you couldn’t quite catch, he was good at reigning himself in. “You look beautiful by the way.” 

Your face fell into a flustered embarrassment as you crossed your arms protectively over your stomach, pointedly not looking at him. “Everyone here looks good.” There was your complete lack of charisma or subtlety again.

Your nerves flickered on and off, unable to decide if you wanted more or less of this unwavering gaze he had on you. But his voice lured you in to look up at him regardless. “I’m serious cariño. You look stunning tonight.” His hand risked rising up to trace his fingertips over the fabric at your waste and ending just at your hips, keeping them pressed there. “But you look stunning all the time, so I guess that’s not really a compliment.” 

Mouth stammering with no sound of words even coming out you pulled your arms in tighter as the embarrassed smile stayed plastered. “That’s rich coming from you.” His eyes narrowed playfully at you as his fingers pressed into your dress more firm, likely now feeling the dip into your skin instead of the fabric. “Women drool over you online all the time, not to me.”

His whole hand slid into place your hip now in a caressing hold in his large, warm hand. He ignored your attempt to lessen the not uncomfortable tension between the two of you, his other hand raising up to tangle a bit of your loose hair in his fingers.”One of these day’s I’m going to force you to finally understand that.” 

Even though he wasn’t near your face you still shivered at how close his knuckles were to brushing your cheek. “Yeah right, you do enough as it is.” 

Hand curling more around your hip you felt a slight pull to move you closer, his hand in your hair still raking through the locks as you wanted but not dared to do to him. He may have already had a drink, he could just be buzzed and sweet you told yourself. 

Marcus seemed to reign himself in as well. Sliding his palm down your shoulder to your arm and letting it fall to the wayside. “I’m glad your here.” 

As if completely oblivious to the tender air between you two, Miracle Guy appeared by your side an arm thrown carelessly around your shoulders enough to jostle you in place uncomfortably. Marcus still with one hand on your hip moving up to your waist to keep you steady as he glared at your new companion. “Careful with her.” 

Ignoring the awkwardness, he pointed at Marcus “You don’t mind if we have our turn to have the guest of honour?” Marcu’s jaw clenched as well as the muscles in his forearms. Miracle Guy now tapping at your shoulder. “We require assistance, someone with your expertise.”

Pushing you now with his both hands on a shoulder each, he turned back once to his clearly agitated leader. “Moreno.” 

Marcus just ignored him. His brown eyes washed over you with that frustratingly addictive allure, “Go, have fun. I can have you later.” Your heart lurched along with a shiver down your spine as those alluring eyes dove deeper into something much greedier, only to be ripped away from you as you were not so gently guided to a green felted table. 

Your entire body sagged at the realization, turning to point and glare at him, Miracle Guy held his hands up in the air. “It was Tech-no’s idea.” Behind you the man yelled in protest. 

“Did everyone suddenly forget what I said before I left?” That was a yes, and when you looked at the table, none of them looked guilty. More excited actually. Cards were laid out in the middle of the table and it did nothing to entice you like the brown eyes somewhere behind you. 

Miracle Guy walked around you to lean up against the table, palms bracing him as he did so. “Come on, Ullr. Whats point of being the god of gambling if you never play.” 

Your teeth bit the inside of your cheek, already feeling yourself let your ability flow through the gates you liked to keep it locked behind. Still, you protested. “I’m sorry did everyone go deaf when I said I don’t like fooling around with this stuff?” 

It was laid out very clear, no betting, no stakes, no money. Some forms of gambling your power simply didn’t work with, but most you did have an advantage that would always secure a win. You didn’t even need to learn or try and finding fame and fortune that way felt like cheating. 

You hadn’t used your ability in any way since you left to be a nanny to Missy. Tech-no leaned onto his forearms resting on the table. “Hey, we only bet bragging rights not money.” 

Your arms crossed, looking to the side as you grappled with using this again. Vox snuck up beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and one at your waist guiding you closer. “One game from the beauty in blue?”

You didn’t feel flustered in the way you did with Marcus. Less butterflies and heat in your cheeks, and more dread and frustration. “I thought you said you just needed my....help.” You weren’t going to say expertise that’s stupid. 

“Some of us learn by watching, teach us a few tricks, maybe a drink, have some fun, sweets.” Vox then slapped your ass gently as she walked closer to the wall beside the table. It’d been half a year since she did that, and now you remembered just how annoying but comical it was. Just coming from her though. 

You tapped your fingers against your arms for a minute. Breath moving faster as your limbs tingled uncomfortably, but you already had unlocked it. It wasn’t something you thought about or even needed to pay attention too. 

Play a bet, and you’d win no matter what. It was a spectacle they wanted, so just maybe you could give it to them and be satisfied enough to let you leave. 

It never sat right with Marcus. Your entire history with the organization. Marcus had been the one to hire you. A series of incidents occurring in New Zealand, rumours of betrayal and accusations of cheating spreading like wildfire amongst groups speculated to be involved in organized crime. It wasn’t necessary to his work at the time, but he liked to keep an eye on things like that. 

Eventually a name kept popping up, a pseudonym that claimed anything they showed up to a hosted gambling event amongst that community, they’d win again and again. Impressing the men so much that they rose through the competitions. Finally making it up to face off against one of the main leaders, and the host of the competition at his private residence.  

The next day, breaking news of a giant raid at the very same home. And only a whisper of someone they called Ullr to go off of. He couldn’t get his mind off of it until he went to look into it himself. A real shock when he tracked this figure down, only to find you in a tiny unimpressive apartment in the middle of a panic attack. 

Apparently being forced into acting as an informant for an organized crime system through a gambling competition was the local police station officers solution for failing to find a reason to arrest the woman who broke up with his petulant child of a son. 

Rest assured, once you realized who he was and the warm genuinity that radiated from him, it all came spilling out of your mouth. You didn’t even live in that country. A small vacation, a small string of dates with a pushy, entitled rich man that had you ending things politely, and suddenly you weren’t allowed to leave. 

Marcus was excited when he brought you back to America. Sure it was where your home was, but he also had been honest about your ability. Honest about wanting to see you find a use for it that didn’t leave you feeling used or dirty. 

But Ms Granada didn’t hire you. And she didn’t want you. So just as quickly as you had settled in as an official member of the team, she kicked you off and demoted you to administration work for the very team she kicked you from. 

He hasn’t seen you use your ability since. Not even as you liked to do, just playful jokes and laughs about it with the your former teammates. One could mistake you for never having it at all. Truth be told he was happy when you told him you wanted the job to be Missy’s nanny. 

Not seeing you everyday? He missed you, and he wanted to make it better but Ms Granada had his hands tied. 

Having you in his home, with his daughter and be in their lives sent his feelings spiralling out of control but still you never used it. And it left Marcus feeling unsettled as he watched you reluctantly sit at the table being dealt cards everyone knew you didn’t even need to look at.

But you always wanted to do things for people to make them happy. Maybe it was selfish to want that all for himself and Missy, but he wanted it all for himself because he wanted to make you happy in return. He wanted you to feel comfortable enough to give yourself to him, trusting that he only wants the best for you like you do him. 

He tried many times to make you dinner before you made his and Missys. But you were strict about your routine with her, and as much as it touched Marcus that you cared he just wanted to see you stop doing everything for everyone else. 

You weren’t happy at that table, but you were there letting yourself be a spectacle for an ability you were kicked out of your dreams for. 

Marcus begun making his way over to the table, circling around so he could see you properly. Drinks and laughs filled the entire area, but you remained mostly stoic. A calm, flat expression as you tried to force yourself into the same joyous feeling but failed. 

The group was having fun, but all you could see was your failure. People looking to you for entertainment that got to come back in the next day and live out the dream they were promised. It wasn’t Marcus’s fault, and you wondered just how much of it he felt guilty for. 

Guilt for rescuing you from an endless trap, only to be overruled before you even had a chance to prove your worth. You felt your own guilt as well. You loved Missy, and carving a part of your life into this small domestic fantasy with her and Marcus filled your heart with warmth. But you also had to watch his marriage fall apart for this little life to happen. 

Had to watch him come in day in and day out and act like normal. Act like it was just some minor troubles, when behind closed doors? He would express to you how frustrating it was, how difficult she was making it and how he was falling out of love for her quicker then it took to fall in love. She wouldn’t grant him a divorce because of Missy, only to walk out months later. Leaving behind nothing but divorce papers and documents giving up her parental rights. 

It was painful, and you didn’t know how fair it would be to Marcus to showcase your feelings for him when this intimacy only came about from his family being torn apart. 

You noticed he had begun to watch as well, but his face as hard and impassive as you tried to be. His brow furrowed in an unknown conflict. His eyes only on you. Not long after he came over, his mother joined passing a now more tired Missy into his arms. Whispering gently into her ear he pointed at the table and described what was happening. 

Her own head fell into where it could reach on Marcus, a hand gently resting curled up on her mouth as she watched you. You had played 4 games now, and still they playfully and harmlessly asked to keep going. So you looked over, a choked up smile on your face at the tired little beauty. 

She whispered to her dad back, and Marcus walked up to you, kneeling down enough so he and Missy were at your own level. His hand was cupping the back of her head, “Someone’s just a bit too tired to make it the entire night.”

You brushed a knuckle against her cheek. “Not waiting around for midnight? Even after all those light movie nights?” You and Marcus both knew that wasn’t true. Some days she struggled to fall asleep without her dad there, and she always wanted to stay up until he came home but fell asleep with her head in your lap anyways. 

She shook her head before wrapping her small arms around Marcus as much as she could reach, snuggling her face into him more. Muffled words came out, but you both were the only ones to hear her quiet plea. “Remember to leave a shoe.” 

Marcus chuckled as he pressed a kiss to her hair. His eyes looking over top his daughter to watch you mindlessly turn to the table and tossing a card play out that had the rest of the table groan in increasing defeat. 

It seems you played entertainer no more the second either of them came along. You turned in your seat, knees now dangerously close to bumping into Marcus. “And who is the prince supposed to be silly girl?” 

You could see her own brows furrow in a familiar fashion. Turning her head so the side of her face was smushed against his she tried to pull Marcus in closer. “Daddy.” 

Your heart fluttered, there was such a frustrated sincerity no doubt the former stemming from being so far away from her bed. Neither you or Marcus looked taken back by how quickly she answered. Missy was a smart cookie, it wasn’t so surprising that she picked up on the yearning leaking from both of you towards the other. 

Your only hang up was how affectionately Marcus smiled at her. He mumbled something to her in Spanish that you couldn’t quite pick up, but the words promise was definitely slipped in there. He adjusted her in his arms, so that as he leaned in close to your own face, it let Missy pause her hold on Marcus to wrap them around you. 

You felt your hands brush just slightly against the bare skin exposed on Marcus’s chest as you hugged her back. Pressing a kiss to her hair, you shivered as Marcus’s fingers brushed the hand at his chest. The slightest of firmer drags against your own fingers hitching the air in your lungs. 

The two of you found each others eyes with a darker emotion behind them that had your heart pumping harder then before. Finally he pulled Missy back into his chest, eyes on you as he leaned more to the ear furthest from the table. 

“I’m going up to my office for a while, okay?” It was something you’d heard many times before, but now there was a deeper husk, thick and heavy with what tasted like greed to the words. You only could nod, eyes no doubt wide and mouth slightly hanging open. 

Your chest heaving just once as you shakily exhaled what you didn’t even realize you were holding. The office that was on the next floor that you knew no one was on. You didn’t want to read into it, but more then once tonight there was a raking of his eyes over you that burned somewhere it really shouldn’t. 

Again, you barley paid attention to what you were doing as you watched him approach his mom, handing the now dozing off Missy to her as he kissed her forehead once more and said goodbye to both of them. 

No one was even paying attention to him, no one but you saw Marcus pause at the door. No one could see the clenched jaw as his fingers tapped against the frame, or the eyes that seemed to look down below your face and up before pushing off and disappearing. 

And no one but the empty hallway saw Marcus groan a strained string of swearing, as his hand reached to his jeans to adjust himself. He couldn’t stay in that room, watching you with with his daughter acting more like a mother then Missys real mom did. Watching you look at him with such bright and needy eyes that he’s not even sure if you realized you kept giving him. Or that gorgeous dress framing you so deliciously in a deep blue that matched his and his daughter’s outfits. 

He adjusted himself once more, the way you looked, the way you looked at him, and how much you matched tonight like a little family causing his jeans to tighten far more then he’d be able to hide in such a crowd. 

Now you were just jealous. Marcus was the one who managed to sneak away with no one noticing, but here you were. Still here, now leaning up against the bar denying any goads to join with more drinks from the increasingly rowdy team. 

You didn’t lie to yourself, it was nice to see them all so much looser then the usual professionalism and serious lives they normally lived when here. It felt much more like just a group of normal friends then who they really were. 

You had checked the clock a few times, and after it hit eleven you found yourself looking around to see if Marcus returned. Perhaps he went to his office to get away from people, did that include you? You practically lived at his house maybe he needed time away from you as well.

But then there was the fire that flashed in his eyes more then once tonight. A fire your imagination had only ever seen in the darkness of your bed in between quiet hitches of your breathe, but it never felt as intense as the real thing. 

Marcus might not have meant it that way, but deep in your subconscious there was a beg for it to be exactly that. Your conscious brain however, disguised it as a concern to check up on him. Just see if he’s okay and ignore the heat flooding your bloodstream, rising a sensitivity that extended to an uncomfortable awareness of how your dress rubbed against your skin like it wanted off. 

There was a melancholy yet liminal feeling as you walked up the stairs. Your heel rising enough from the shoe forced you to stumble a bit and slide your foot in more steadily. You smiled to yourself as you were knelt over, hand pressing the back of the shoe in more. 

Missy was ridiculous. Such a sweet and quiet girl, yet unashamed to be stubbornly vocal about things she really wants. She wanted you around more and more, and every time Marcus was home she always gave you such puppy eyes when you said goodbye. She was so attached to you and you were to her, so much so that on more than one occasion a stranger in public would call her your daughter or vice versa. 

Never once did Missy correct them, and it made you reluctant to correct the assertion either. If your phone wasn’t still tucked away in your coat pocket, you may have considered slipping the shoe off just long enough to take a picture. 

The girl was still a toddler, she still believed in fairytales and neither you or Marcus felt the need to break her of that illusion. 

As you wandered into the office floor, there was a beautiful blue light streaming in from the windows. The snow on the ground let the night sky reflect colour into it’s glow, and it lit up the office you once worked in. 

Tucked away in the corner by the far wall, as a tint of orange that took over the blue reflection. Not a vain man, Marcus’s office was small and cozy. Away from the larger, more lavish offices that the corporate heads preferred. 

The floor was silent as the carpet silenced the echo your shoes would otherwise have made. If you stretched your hearing, you could hear the faint scribbling of a pen, and coming up closer you had just enough of an angle to see his phone haphazardly tossed onto the small couch pushed up against the wall. Sitting on it’s side as it lay on the inside arm, it clearly landed there in carelessness rather then placed neatly. 

Marcus didn’t immediately notice your presence as you peeked inside. His well manicured curls were now tossed around, ruffled and more of a mess like his hands had been run through it. One extra button was undone on the shirt that now seemed to be more wrinkled and wrung around then in front of company. 

His glasses were also tossed upside aside on his desk, he didn’t arrive with them. He must have put them on to work, only to toss then off in another act of unknown frustration. The black rimmed frames always made him look handsome, but there was something about looking at him, bent over his desk, an elbow braced on the wood that held his head up in it’s hand. 

Without the glasses you could see his nose, the length of it sliding down his face and making you wonder why he ever could make negatively tinged jokes about it. 

As your feet patted into the room quietly, Marcus snapped his head up. Your name falling quietly from his lips. “You know people are going to notice their guest of honour slipped away.” 

You bowed your head bashfully, a not so sincere smile falling over your face. “Guest of honour’s a bit of a stretch.” You walked more inside properly but chose to lean against the bookshelf between the door and couch. “I’m more like the entertainment.” 

Your fingers tapped anxiously against the shelf. Muted thuds rhythmically filling the gaps of nothing. 

Marcus dropped his pen, running a hand through his hair confirming it was a mess of his own doing. He pushed back in his seat, but didn’t stand up. His arms crossed over his chest as he huffed out. “I’ll talk to them. They should know better.” 

Smiling you looked away, biting your lip sharply and letting it go as you turned back to him. “It’s not a big deal, they just wanted to have fun.” 

You watched his jaw clench again, paired with his brows furrowing and a distant look in his eyes as if looking through not at you. “No it is a big deal.” 

Pushing up you stood straighter ready to fight him on it, temper his nerves. “Sir-” 

The forming of a shiver in your spine crept to the surface when he stood up, body posturing like he was containing an anger inside. He coped your own position, both of you leaning back once more against the desk and shelf, respectively. “You don’t think I see what’s going on?” 

You hoped he didn’t see the gulp that tried to swallow your anxiety. He continued though. “They keep your nickname that those scumbags called you, Granada kicks you off my team,” His knuckles tightening their grip on his desk with the word ‘my’. “Then you leave, and the first time everyone sees you again they treat your abilities like you’re a main attraction at a carnival.” 

Your nails tried digging into the wood with no avail, “It’s fine Marcus. We tried and it didn’t work out, I may as well use it for fun at least.” 

The darkness in his eyes felt like anger, Marcus though wouldn’t ever direct it towards you. A brewing fire was sparking inside but you were given no reason to take shelter. “Do you?” Your eyebrows raised in question. “Use it for fun? Because I’m willing to gamble that you’ve never once used it for anything that would benefit you for the sake of it.” 

Marcus noticed his mistake as soon as you did. His face falling, he fought back a playful eyeroll as you pulled your own expression into an exaggerated mocking look. “Brave choice, gambling with the only person nicknamed for the god of it himself.” 

His jaw twitched as he discreetly licked his lower lip, head turned away from you. Shaking it incredulously, Marcus walked over to a cupboard, bending down to reveal a tiny safe he typed something into. Amusingly though, a cold steam rushed out along with light from a bulb. Just two shelves were inside, one with what appeared to be beer and two different bottles of another kind of liquor, the top one divided between a small stack of juice boxes and cans of soda. 

This time you grinned fully, watching him pull out a taller thin bottle along with two similarly stemmed glasses from the regular cupboard beside it. “Do all good dads keep their whiskey stored with their daughters juice?” 

He plopped everything onto the table before gesturing to the bottle that was in fact much lighter in colour. “Champagne is very different then whiskey I’ll have you know.” Your condescending smirk lightened the mood enough so a matching smirk graced his lips as he nodded his head back to the cupboards. “The other one’s scotch so that doesn’t count.” 

You laughed looking down to your feet before taking a few casual steps towards him, Marcus not moving to poor anything. Just watching you with a patient smile. You felt a little silly in your sparkling dress again. The rich blue the only thing about Marcus’s shirt that made it stand out from every other range of colour he wore of button up. The jeans were dark and blended in well, but as you stood there in something you spent way too much money for?

Well that uncomfortable itch once again rubbed against your skin in annoyance. You felt far too casual for how good he looked in any normal clothes he wore. Even his tactical wear wasn’t flashy or fancy, just dark and normal only attached with gear and not nearly enough armour. 

It wasn’t often you were compelled to fill the lull with words, but his eyes had softened too much towards you to handle. “I uh- just came to check on you. You’ve been gone a while, thought maybe you were trying to get out of the countdown.” 

Marcus shook his head casually, “Not really, I’ve just had my fill of big parties for a while. Our Christmas one wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.” 

Eyes squinting with a head tilt, you found yourself close enough to perch on the back of the chair facing his desk. Still more then arms reach away from him for safe keeping. “I thought..well because you hosted it you would enjoy it?” 

You had seen some of the preparations, but anything you were there to see him work on it he was usually also on the phone arguing with another vendor. “Usually the heads host it, but Granada’s having renovations so it got dumped onto me. Not exactly how I planned on spending the night.” 

Was that guilt you felt once again for not showing up? “Yeah um, Missy showed me the schedule she drew out, told me all about what the movie was supposed to be that day.” You smiled to yourself thinking about it. “I put it on during the morning so she could still have it with someone.” 

That deep intensity in his eyes returned, so you backtracked. Worried you just did exactly what you were trying to avoid. “I didn’t mean, I wasn’t trying to take over your night. I just, she was upset the adults wouldn’t want to watch it during the party and asked if I’d watch it..I wasn’t trying to step on your toes, I know it’s your thing.”

Marcus pushed up from where he leaned on the desk, his arms out slightly to try and coerce you to calm down without coming into your personal space. “Take a breathe, cariño. There we go, you’re alright.” 

You weren’t sure when the room started to spin or when your heart betrayed it’s pattern, but Marcus’s voice was so soothing it pulled it right back down. You nodded as he spoke and took a few deep breaths, his shoulders relaxing as your body did. 

“You’re good with her.” This time you didn’t even nod along to his words to appear polite and civil. There was something about invading in his private life that just kept setting you off. Kept you on a leash and yanked you back every time you started to forget you were here for a job given to you out of convenience. 

“I don’t think there’s been one day after you leave that Missy doesn’t ask why can’t you stay.” He laughs as his hands finds a home on the belt loops at his hips. “And every time shes grumpy when I remind her that you have your own life away from us.” The quiet void in the air was think and suffocating, and Marcus was about to deal the killing blow. 

He moved to pull the stem glasses closer, reaching for something to carefully pull the cork out. You teased him before you could stop yourself. “Isn’t that supposed to be a midnight countdown thing?” 

Marcus smirked, not bothering for any fancy gestures only a simple corkscrew to pull it out. Just like every thing else about Marcus; genuine, refusing to be flashy or show off. “I’ve spilt enough on this carpet. I don’t need to add alcohol to that mix.” 

Tossing the crew out of sight behind his desk, it didn’t occur to you right away the pull and push of a drawer that he didn’t touch. Not flashy. His powers just existed as a part of him. 

Pouring one glass until it was full, you jutted forward starting to protest. Marcus though only poured half. He put the bottle to the side, and gently picked the smaller amount to hand to you. You didn’t like to drink a lot. Not just on an occasion basis, but in amount too. You never told Marcus that, but he knew it all the same. 

Instead of waiting for you, Marcus came to you. His broad body felt like it towered over you with how all encompassing he was. No glasses to obstruct your view of those brown eyes you adored and his mouth just close enough to you that you felt the tail end of his words on you. 

“There’s plenty of ways to celebrate anyways.” 

Your heart constricted, trying not to let the buzzing in your body come from anything deeper. “Judging by the sounds of it, downstairs is about to choose the screaming and yelling option.” 

Sound was more muffled, but in the emptiness of the office floor there was a growing rowdiness in the air. Neither of you were sure what time it was, but honestly it didn’t matter. There was enough alcohol in that party it would say it for you. 

Your eyes narrowed playfully as he brought the glass up to his mouth, “Isn’t the polite thing to make a formal toast, sir?” The sir may have been far more mocking then you’d ever say back when you worked in this very building. 

Marcus just chuckled though. Leaning his lower back against the desk, you didn’t really notice it. But his hand twitched. One part of him wanted to reach out to grab your hand, and pull you close, the other wanted to just pull the metal on your bracelet over so he had an excuse to hold you in his arms to catch you. For now though he chose neither. 

“I’d rather just have your company if that’s alright.” 

Your heart pounded, your nails tapping against the glass as you stood awkwardly. Not knowing where to go or how to sit in case it breaks his air between you. So you nodded, and brought your glasses up together to take a drink. 

Well, Marcus did. You on the other hand bent your head back to swallow the whole thing. Once again, your nails tapped against the glass only now it was empty. Marcus tilted his head before reaching blindly to sit his glass down. 

Pushing up you assumed the hand he reached out was to grab the glass, instead he grabbed the glass with it and turned to put it down as well. While his back was turned though, you felt something non existent tugging at your wrist, tripping you in place only to be grabbed by Marcus smoothly steadying you with one hand on your upper arm and the other on your hip. 

“Do you normally skip giving a girl a little warning?” The play died on your tongue as his fingers slid up to brush your jaw and just under your chin. Tilting it up to look at him better. 

The playfulness was gone from him as well. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” 

“I was kidding,” That was true, but your limbs buzzed too much to pretend like there wasn’t a trembling shiver in your body. 

Marcus’s hand tightened on your hip, not painfully but pulling it closer to him so as he stood he was closer to being flush with you. His thumb reached to rub against your cheek. “You’re nervous.” Too close to hide the anxious biting down on your lip, his thumb hopped across your skin to tug your bottom lip free, never moving it away. Just keeping his thumb pressed against the plushness. 

“I want to show you something.” He rubbed his arms over where they were pressed against your body before circling around his desk to pull out a folded sheet of paper. 

Jutting his head to the side, you followed suit. Marcus spoke without prompt. “Missy asked me if we could see Santa this year. She was so excited, had her in a dress with reindeer all over it, I had to settle her down when she was jumping to stand in line all by herself.” 

Your throat choked up at the pure love he felt for his daughter, how even just a cute memory of maybe a week ago had him emotional. You breathed out a light laugh. “She asked me if I wanted her to tell Santa something for me.” 

Marcus twiddled with the edges of the paper, flicking a corner up and down as tore his eyes away from it to look at you, that expression of adoration never changing. “Told her to draw what she wanted for Santa, in case she forgot anything. Refused to show me until after she already saw him.” Slowly he started to unfold it, sure to keep what was on it out of your vision. “She let me keep it though, just in case Santa forgets too.” 

The joking tone made you both laugh. 

Gently he reached the mere foot gap out to hand it to you, the image on the other side still not visible. You didn’t turn it over right away, just held it in your hands. “I’m not sure I should be privy to such confidential information.” 

Marcus didn’t laugh. Choosing to close the gap by a few inches, his hand nudging the paper up. Indicating he wanted you to turn it over. Speaking low and deep as you did so. “You are for this one.” 

It was in crayon. One image dominated the entire paper, two taller figures stood next to each other with the vaguest resemblance to Marcus, and a woman. A mostly stick hand from Marcus reaching out to a smaller figure that was clearly her. Amusingly noted that she gave herself impossibly long luscious locks. 

The female though, the first thing your brain tried to do was place her mothers image onto it. But it just didn’t fit no matter how you shaped it. Her hair a different colour then her mothers up in what Missy tried to draw as a bun at the top of their head. Which you were pretty sure that woman never put her hair up the entire time you knew her. 

The shape didn’t match either. Thin and skinny like a stick drawing suited her mother, but this was drawn to be a child’s interpretation of curvy. Though it looked more like the wave of a waterbed then a human body the intent was clear. 

Under each person was overlapping scribbles of her and Marcus’s name, and yours at the end. The thing that made this a hint of what she wanted though, was what she drew above you. An arrow with a heart mushed into the middle of the arrowhead, and on the other end was “Mama”. 

This time the shaking was obvious to both of you. Your eyes stung as tears were being refused permission to fall and your next breathe was raspy and almost felt like a subdued sob. 

Marcus wasn’t mad, or offended, or upset. He had looked at that drawing with a yearning that you had seen time and time again when Missy wanted you to stay before her dad even came home. You wouldn’t replace her mom, you couldn’t. It wasn’t right. 

So why did Marcus not protest, why did he look so fondly at it, why were his hands cupping your cheeks. “Look at me, cariño.” Your heart was erratic, but you stood calmly. His eyes all too easy to drown in. “No one is pressuring you. I won’t force you to do or say anything,” 

One hand of his left your cheek to grasp one of yours holding the paper. “Missy cares about you, and I care about you.” Gently he guided your hand to place the paper on his desk and then stayed on your waist as your hands nervously hovered between you both. Not knowing what to do. “You can’t imagine how much I care about you, how often I think about you.” 

His grip on your waist tightening, bunching the material up slightly in his hand. His face leaned into you, shocking your system with how soft and warm his face was compared to how gruff and held back his tone came out. “How little I want you to leave every single time I come home and see you with my daughter.” 

The grip on you tightened, and relaxed completely in seconds. Marcus was still holding something back, but those brown eyes begged you of something. “But it has to be your choice. You’ll mean the world to me no matter what but you have to make this decision.”  

The muscles in his chest and stomach tensed as your fingers found the courage to rest there. Not quite yet ready to hold him as he did you, but the racing of Marcus’s own heart spoke to you when your fingers traced around the chest he teased you with. 

There was a terror that rung through you that you were imagining this, that you’d close your eyes and wind up right back where you started. Or worse, that he’d pull away and be kicked to the curb from another part of his life. 

But he was so close. Marcus teasingly nudged his nose against yours and brushing it softly across it, but never moved his lips to you. He wouldn’t do it himself, he wanted you to chose it of your own volition and it didn’t miss you that despite you being the most anxious and worried about these feelings being reciprocated, Marcus was the one who wanted to be sure. 

Timing had a funny relationship with life. Movies and books loved to play the ‘first kiss at the stroke of midnight’ trope, yet there was nothing but the hesitant stuttered breathe in the air as you leaned up. 

Your fingers grasped the edges of his shirt just a tad bit needier, eyes shut as you closed the distance between your lips with the gentlest of brushes. Marcus barley even got a chance to kiss you back, lips brushing together light as a feather. You pulling away just as he was ready to pull you into him properly. 

But you gave him the smallest of touch, still worried even now that you would be reading it wrong. Marcus didn’t feel the same way. His fingers once again found the bottom of your chin as he now much more playfully brushed his nose against yours. 

His arm slid around your waist to pull you closer into him, chuckling at the light grin you gave him. You more confidently pressed your palms onto his chest just as a rowdy noise made itself known from below. 

The distinct sound of counting made you laugh and Marcus to whisper into your cheek, “What?” 

Fingers sliding to his neck to rake themselves into his curls caused Marcus’s eyes to flutter. “Bad timing. We’re supposed to kiss at the end of the countdown.”

Dark eyes seeked something in your gaze, and he found it. Almost as if each movement was tied to the beat of a number, Marcus pushed your hips back into the wall pressing his hips into yours. Hands squeezing the plush skin of your hips that hid from him, your arms filled with lead. A weight tore them from Marcus’s neck and forced them up above your head and the force pressed them there without mercy. 

Metal bracelets, you didn’t even intend anything like it when you put them on. 

Marcus pushed your hips more into the wall, his breathing heavy in your face as he revealed in the shifting your hips wanting, needing more of the growing bulge that pressed into them.

Your eyes looked into each other, the distinct final seconds muffled but understood below. Marcus raised his eyebrows, and you nodded exactly one. 

If he had planned this part out, he was a genius. Just as the yelling of ‘one’ rang out, so did the click of the rooms lock echo in the air. Before the party below could even yell out their celebration, Marcus took charge. 

Pressing his entire body against yours, leaving no room for even a sliver as he pressed his lips roughly to yours. He moved your mouth the way he wanted, the way he could feel you craved. He held nothing back, the sudden roughness came through by the sound of moans, he slightly wet smack as your mouth moulded against his drowned out whatever was happening in the party below. 

Marcus consumed the kiss, pulling your hips into his strained cock behind his jeans as one hand slid behind to grasp at your ass to keep them there. His fingers digging into the cheek so much that he’d have time later to admire such distinct bruises on you.

Your hands were once again pulled in whatever manner Marcus desired. Forcing them up back to his neck, one of them holding you upright as you felt the scratch of his facial hair if you touched high enough. The other raking into his hair, finally allowing you the freedom to touch him as you pleased. And your touch wanted to scratch your nails into his curls. 

Marcus broke away from the kiss as he moaned louder then even he expected, a harsh “fuck,” following suit. He chuckled, moving to hold your chin more firmly. Tilting you up to look at his him. 

His chest was heaving but the much more swollen plush of his lips called to you like a siren. Your attention tried to slide down to trace your fingers down his chest but he kept your eyes on him. Leaving you only able to try and release each button as you found it until his torso was bare. 

Marcus guided your hands in his, helping you gently push the rest of his shirt down his arms until you had to let go. He was so incredibly broad. It felt as if he was taking up your entire field of view leaving you with the only choice of raking your eyes down it. Broad shoulders and back with such strong arms. 

Arms that made your mouth water, those arms and his abilities could render you immobile, it could leave you at his complete control. But what had your lungs hitching was the softer stomach, a realness without any ego or desire to have that strength just to show off in abs. 

No he was soft, and real, and you wanted to reach out to run your hands over his stomach, but he didn’t let you. Stepping back into your personal space he bunched up the sides of your dress, “Gonna let me see what’s under here, cariño?” 

Biting your lip as you nodded, Marcus knelt down in front of you. His hands smoothing over your calves as he pressed his forehead into your hips. He inhaled trying to find any scent of you, agitating him that there were too many layers. 

He was careful though, starting slow. Lifting your foot up comfortably and slid each shoe off of you one by one, then back to running his hands over your legs and up your thighs. He didn’t let the dress obstruct his goal though. You could see the bumps under the material where his hands explored as the callousness of his fingertips tickled the sensitive skin. 

His large, warm hands suddenly grasped the waistband of your leggings and looked up at you with a murmur of your name. The question was not asked but your, “please” was still the answer. 

Marcus slid his fingers inside a tinge more and snagged the ends of your underwear in his grasp as well, still seeking that yes. Your nails ran over his scalp again, and a full body shiver left him this time. A shiver that had him once again pressing his forehead into your hips, and then yanking your bottoms down in one go. 

The abrupt pull had you jump, but Marcus pressed the bottom of your thigh up so he could lift each remaining pant leg off. Your eyes fluttered closed in a held back whine, missing him tossing your leggings out of sight, and standing up as he clenched your underwear in his fist. Your head was thrown back, and he took the chance to shove what was yours into his back pocket. 

“Marcus, I-” You reached out for him to come back into you. Fingers binding together as he leaned in, pushing your body back into the wall with much less force this time. His fingers traced and brushed your bottom lip, “please kiss me.” Your voice much smaller and meeker then you had meant to say it like. 

A smile formed on his lips, both hands cupping your face tenderly as he went in to kiss you. You gripped his sides, thick and strong under your palms. 

He kissed you with less force, but no less demanding. You let him do with you as he pleased, and gave no trouble when he bit your bottom lip. A gasp of pleasure, and he slid his tongue inside your mouth. Tracing along yours and taking each moan that came up your throat. 

One of your arms reached around his neck again and to press his kiss and tongue deeper into your mouth while the other wrapped now around his waist and pulled his hips into you. The bulge rubbing into you, pressure on your clit frustratingly interrupted by both your layers. “Oh god,” 

Marcus bunched the sides of your dress up, only this time more and more of your bare skin reached his touch. His mouth teased you by pulling away, softening his kiss almost too much and pulling away from your lips. His thumb shifted to rub over the skin of your hips without letting your dress fall back down. 

His touch burning in it’s path you let out a whimper, and once again Marcus consumed your mouth, wasting no time in coaxing your tongue to explore. You could feel his breathing grow ragged, and his hips pushing into you aggressively, making you cry out in need. 

In an instance, Marcus’s patience snapped just a little too much, pulling away from your mouth so a trail of saliva followed his pull back. He gave you no time to think as Marcus yanked up your dress and tossed it out of his life. 

You felt so cold and exposed as he shamelessly looked you up and down, “Fuck.” Ambushing you again he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you again. 

His mouth not lasting long, as he kissed and bit down your neck. The burn from his facial hair leaving your already ravaged neck scratched red. Both large hands reached around, squeezing and pulling with a cheek in each hand. His grip on your ass made him push you into his hips as he pressed into yours. 

Gasping out, “Please, I want to feel you.” You reached to his belt and he paused. His adams apple bobbed and your ass slid from his grasp. Kneeling down you cupped the massive bulge in his jeans, kissing and sucking teases to his cock hiding underneath. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight of you undoing his belt, pulling down the zipper. 

Not quite all the way, you pulled his jeans down enough that his cock was released. Right in your face, his tip was red and leaking already, and down from there your eyes widened at the thickness of his cock. Length alone would intimidate you, but his cock was big, so big he’d stuff you full. 

You ran your thumb over his tip, revealing in his moaning and shaking. There was so much precum that you slicked it all over his cock as you stroke him. Slow soft jerks, lubing him up only increasing in speed a fraction each stroke. 

You could tell he wanted you to speed up so badly, you could feel yourself getting wet as you watched your hand try to encompass his cock. Thighs pressing together wasn’t cutting it but you couldn’t stop looking at his cock, your hand refusing to leave either. 

Marcus’s breathing sped up, thighs trembling as you had only just started to stroke his cock anything above slow and teasingly paced. A large hand started to smooth over your hair, his voice coming out in a husk. “Come up here, baby.” 

Gracefully he grasped your hand and helped you stand up, almost like a gentleman would a lady. Just as gentle, Marcus pulled your face in to press his lips against yours. His kiss still full of greed and teeth and tongue, but without the roughness this time. 

Before you realized, his hands grasped your waist and turned your back against the desk. “Hop up.” Just as you tried to hop behind you without looking embarrassing Marcus just grabbed at you, moving you up onto the desk. His eyes memorized by the jostle the quick move bounced in your skin. 

You wanted to trace his own skin but Marcus pulled back to take the rest of his own clothes off. Unsure where to even look, his still slick cock, his soft stomach leading up to his broad large chest, or the bright shine in his eyes, accentuating his face. Your hands grabbed at his waist pulling him to stand between your legs as you slid your palm and nails over his stomach, one of them abandoning the soft issue to slide up the length of his body and cupping the rough brush of facial hair on his cheek. 

“Tell me Moreno, how long has it been since anyone told you how beautiful you were?” Oh that turned him red real fast, the burn in his cheeks a bit of a hint but the blushing design down his chest told an even better story. You smoothed your thumb over the bald patch on his jaw and decided it was exactly where you wanted to kiss him. 

So that’s what you did, leaving your lips to brush against his skin you melt Marcus turn his own head into your neck, leaving a gentle lick and kiss against the bites he just devoured you with. “I’m supposed to be seducing you, cariño. Not the other way around.” 

Thick fingers slid up and down your wet entrance before rubbing at your clit. His hand held you at the back of your neck, keeping you from escaping his mouth as he rubbed circles into you, only leaving just to gather more to keep you nice and wet for him everywhere. 

“You- fuck, you do enough, Marcus. I want to, let me take care of you.” That was the wrong thing to say apparently. His fingers paused, not leaving you clit but ceasing all movement. Instead keeping a steady pressure that had your insides heating up. 

Leaving the back of your neck, he grabbed your chin to force you to look at him. Brows narrowed and a rush fell over you at the serious way he looked at you. “No. You do too much for everyone.” 

Face twisting in confusion, two fingers started to circle your clit again now rough but slow. “I don’t understand.” 

Marcus groaned almost closer to a growl, reaching down to caress your breast, fingers tweaking over your nipple, giving a tug that had you whine. His lips pressed into your jaw and up to you ear as he massaged the sensitive bud. 

“Of course you don’t. You always try to make everyone happy, do everything you think they want. Let me change that, cariño. Please.” Your hand suddenly moved on it’s own from digging your nails into his shoulder blade to the other neglected breast. 

You nuzzled your head closer to his, getting the message you gave a similar treatment to your other nipple, just more apprehensive and gentle then Marcus treated you. He needed you to say it though, he needed to hear you tell it to him. 

You shuddered as he whispered your name into you ear, “Tell me. Tell me you’ll stop. I need you to tell me that you’re going to let me finally take care of you for once. Please?” 

There was a beg in his voice that had you choked up, a desperation to care for you that threatened tears if you said anything more then yes. So that's all you did. “Yes, please.” 

You didn’t even protest that his fingers left your nipple and your clit, instead you sighed out as your foreheads rested against each other, your hands both holding the other at the waist. Marcus lifted his head enough to press a kiss to your forehead and rubbed his nose against yours. “That’s all I’ll ask for okay? That’s all I want, you just like this.” 

Your heart raced as he pulled away, his large hands shoving your legs to the sides even more. His cock bounced in his step as he closed the gap to run the tip over your sensitive clit, and down to smear his precum into your own soaked entrance. 

Marcus gripped the base of his cock and pulled you a tad more to the edge with a hand guiding you on your ass. His cock rubbing up and down, your head thrown back biting your lip to contain a whine and Marcus’s jaw clenched and eyes dark as he watched you both. 

“Look at me.” Commanding, an order, your head flew up to look at him properly like a subject compelled to always follow it’s leader. Brown eyes narrowed as he pushed his cock into your pussy. His gaze watching your gasp, how your mouth fell open from how full he stretched you. It soaked you all that much more how badly he wanted to see you not just feel you. 

You held onto his shoulders tightly as he just pushed inside. Sliding against your warm walls until he was as deep as you could let him be. Your nerves were on overdrive, you could feel so much of him it drove you crazy. “Marcus,”  you managed to whimper out, but that sweet simmer flared back up into an inferno. 

Marcus pulled back before slamming harshly back inside of you, his lips shoving against yours in tandem. Your lips let his tongue explore you however he wanted, all you could focus on was trying desperately to keep up with the pounding of his cock. 

Each slap of his skin against yours may was well been a scream in an echo chamber. It bounced off the walls and back into your ears. You felt that burning need inside you as he slid inside you. Both of his arms wrapped around you as he kissed you

Surprisingly, he used his position to pull you up with him as he sat back in his chair. His cock still deep inside your cunt, slid even further as he bounced you down onto him completely. You cried out and Marcus instantly raked through your hair with gentle shushes. 

Rising up just enough to feel his cock stroke your inner walls so sharply you moaned out his name. Your hips were commandeered as he started to bounce you up and down his cock. The coarse hair around his cock glistened with how much you were soaking his lap. 

Marcus thrusted up against such a sensitive spot inside of you that you clenched hard around his cock. Hard enough that he had to push roughly to let him fuck you deep enough. You pressed a kiss to him, but the bounce of you on his cock made it hard. 

Your breasts bounced just as hard and you felt a deer coiling as his cock pulled intense pleasure from you every slide of his cock. His arms pulled you close to his body, your head resting down on his shoulder as he sped up his pace. Fucking his cock up into you faster as he spat out through gritted teeth. 

“Do you know how many times much I jerked off thinking about you?” Another fiery rush blew through you as you were at the mercy of his cock and his words. Both pounding into you leaving you breathless. “Every night stroking my cock desperately wishing it was you. Angry that I never brought you up to my bed and fucked you so much sooner.” 

“Fuck, I did too, Marcus I did to- oh my god,” Your voice strained into a moan as his hands pulled at your ass cheeks as he fucked into you, the wet squelch of his cock drowning inside of you just had you soaking around his cock even more. And his hard Marcus squeeze his eyes shut trying to force words out through every fibre in his body tensing up in pleasure. 

“Take such good care of my daughter, such good care of me,” The wet slap echoed with the pounding of your skin together as he pulled you towards the edge. “It’s my turn, sweet girl. Cum for me now, and I’ll give you it every single day.” 

His shallow thrusts pushed you over the edge, cumming around his cock and crying his name into his neck. Your back arching as white hot pleasure had you holding onto him for dear life. Unruly sounds clawed their way out of your throat and still his cock fucked your soaked pussy without slowing.

Marcus didn’t let up, fucked you with his cock fast, your ass jiggling from the force. His voice finally pitched, stuttering moans as he grasped your hair. Pulling you up to rub his nose against your cheek, no demanding or teasing.

Just a wrecked moan as you held each other, your ears still ringing as you whined. His voice just as desperate as your pussy felt. Muttering Spanish into your skin, only switching back as he gave final pounding thrusts. His cock throbbing inside of you as his thighs below tensed. “Please, hermosa please.” 

The plea was useless, Marcus hadn’t even finished speaking before he gripped your body so tight his knuckles turned white. His cum spilling inside of you, warm and thick and it seemed to just keep spurting as he slowed his thrusts gradually. 

The dark hair rubbing into your clit and how his cock through everything never let up from the sensitive needy part inside of you had you weightless. Floating in his arms as his own muttering praises sounded underwater. 

Gradually though, you felt him again. Hands through your hair and lips pressing against your head as the water drained. His deep voice relaxed, and his cock keeping his thick cum deep in you. Not yet willing to leave the warmth of your pussy. 

You chuckled a bit, pushing past the lead in your brain holding it down to cup his cheeks. This kiss was the most innocent by far. The one you gave him before was nervous, unsure before he ravaged your lips and your body. 

Now though? You enjoyed a tender press against the other, your body relaxing into his, Marcus content with leaving back in the chair with you on top of his cock like a blanket. 

For a while you stayed that way, neither of you feeling any rush to move. No one was going to walk in, and for once, neither of you needed to sacrifice time together for anything else. You kept his cock inside of you, his thickness pushed so deep inside of you kept your nerves alight, and your own walls surrounding him kept Marcus unwilling to let you go. 

“Come home with me.” Your head rushed up to look at him with questioning eyes. “At least for tonight? Missy’s with my mom until tomorrow afternoon.” 

His cheeks were wide as he smiled at you. “I’m selfish, I want to keep you with me for a while.” His hips shifted to tease you, knowing even his cock when soft was still large and thick. “Even if it’s mostly in my bed.”  

You grinned at him, “Now sir, isn’t it a bit cliche to start sleeping with the nann-” You yelped in a laugh as Marcus tickled your sides. 

He held his own smile, unobstructed by anything weight either of you down from days precious. “Don’t start that. You keep calling me sir, and I’m going to start treating the way a sir would.” His eyes were lustful but he jumped to tickle one last spot. Both of you laughing as you ended up collapsing into his chest rather then pulling away from him. 

“Is it okay though?” 

Marcus looked up to you, his thumb over your bottom lip again as you clarified. “Is it okay to come over- stay over I mean. I just don’t want Missy thinking...” 

Marcus captured your lips in another chaste kiss. “Missy asked Santa if he could make you her mom for Christmas. I think we’re well past you needing to worry about your place in our lives.” 

You knew he meant it this time. There was an affection in his eyes for those he loved, a soft kindness that shined through every aspect about him. But there also was a tiny possessive voice in the back of his head you were starting to understand. 

One that he let out as he fucked you, but also maybe a quieter one that associated possessiveness over you to wanting to ensure you knew you belong. Neither of you were people who felt things lightly, and the time it took to tear your lips apart long enough to even pull his cock from your pussy spoke miles about how little either of you wanted to pretend otherwise anymore. 

To the parties credit, no one really noticed in the end that you left. They also didn’t notice that Marcus had an arm around you the entire time, holding your coat out to put over you. Nothing but an empty parking lot also got to witness Marcus’s rare moment of embarrassment. 

Both of you had debated where to stop and grab something to eat. Stuck between two options, Marcus did what Missy always tried with him. Rock, paper scissors. It took 5 whole tries for him to remember how stupid he was. You didn’t even glance at your hands whatsoever the entire time. Just watching him with a fond but amused expression as he looked up from your constant wins to your smug smile.

Lucky indeed that no one was around to notice him growling out what a brat you were as he gave you a greedy kiss, pushing you up against his car in another lack of self control. 

They didn’t need to know right now. You cared about them, but it was also a memory of a life you never got to live up to. 

The rest of the night truth be told was uneventful. You ate some late night garbage, and didn’t make it much further then Marcus helping you both get ready for bed. Only stopping briefly to pull you back into his chest, watching you brush your teeth in the mirror draped in one of his tee shirts. Your head nuzzled back into him as he leaned and pressed greedy kisses into your neck. 

You passed out in his arms rather quickly. Marcus though, watched your peaceful face for a while. Stroking your hair as he did so. 

He wondered if he should feel guilty for how perfect this felt, how perfect it worked out. He found you hoping to guide you into a companionship in the very team he leaded, only to watch your dreams crumble while the facade of his happy marriage finally exposed itself. 

He laughed to himself, your smug little smirk as he realized how much you just played him for laughs. A way you hadn’t used your ability in longer then he could think of. Maybe it was a start. 

Marcus didn’t work in the field for the Heroics anymore, and you were finding a life outside of that at the same time. If he weren’t needy or selfish, Marcus would feel guilty for how his love only found yours through your dreams dashed. 

But, you used your ability in the parking lot with him, not to play entertainment, not to be a useful spectacle. No you did it just for fun, to make you giggle and you laughed even harder seeing that he was just as cutely amused as you were. 

It was a step in the right direction, and now you both had each other to support that from now on. Missy as well. God knows the second she found out about you both, Marcus knew she was going to try and throw a parade about it. 

She didn’t see you as trying to replace her mother, neither did Marcus and neither did his own mother. Missy started to call you mom nervously when you weren’t around, and Marcus slipped up more then once about it as well.

So he pulled you close into his chest more. Kissing your sleeping forehead, before nuzzling into you back. Your arms wrapped around each other was the best take away from this night there could be.

You were part of their family now, part of their love. That’s all that mattered. 

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x female reader #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x f!reader #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno fic #pedro pascal x reader

[emelinstriker]

Anyone who calls this AU a 'slave' AU...

Then theres me who looks at this AU and just sees an excuse to hug and spoil favorite characters. (Not teying to start hate I just want to express to new viewers all I see are people taking this AU and creating fluff. The LMK already has angst filled (potential) characters and this AU, while also dark and angst filled, has characters that has the Reader who has potential to be comedy "what is going on!?!???" And "these are my pwecious babehs. Must hug and cherish" .... Brain is entering not making sense at near 11 pm....

EXACTLY-

The AU is supposed to have some dark content, I even mentioned that in my masterlist, but that's literally not even the point of the AU. It just adds more of a mystery to the environment for those enjoying the AU, who like to look for hidden lore crumbs, piece them together and figure out the story.

It's like a murder mystery. Just because people enjoy listening to/watching those does not mean they're into becoming killers. Especially if it's fictional, made up stories to let viewers engange with the situation themselves and solve it.

Meanwhile the way I've seen people interact with the champions in my inbox always ends up being more wholesome or funny. Because at its core, the AU is just there so people can have fun interacting with the characters.

And I'll keep saying it over and over if I have to.

Humans are different.

Opinions and preferences are different.

Literally no one is getting harmed in real life if I sprinkle in some hints to darker lore. Some people just like angst and dark things more than others, and that's fine. It's just generally more interesting for them.

But even then, those that prefer more of a fluffy, comedic, or even horny interaction with the cast have the option to do so. The AU is built like a one-shot. You can have one story or the other and don't need to look at the other parts. They can all be read on their own.

If someone doesn't like the AU or isn't interested, that's absolutely fine and I respect that.

However, what I can't respect is people talking shit behind my back like a group of children, publicly spreading hate and misinterpret messages. Again, I've already said my viewpoint on things. Whether people agree or disagree on my standpoint, I don't care anymore at this point.

Just as much as the brickwall I'm talking about isn't accepting the fact that not everyone shares the same opinion on how old a character is supposed to be. Especially in a fictional AU setting. When I say ESAU!Nezha is an adult, then in this very AU, as the creator of said AU, I can legally say he is an adult in this AU. End of story. If one says he's a kid in the source story, that's fine. If one says he's an adult in a made-up fictional Lego story, that's fine.

I'm literally just calmly explaining my own points and they start accusing me of more shit by taking my explanations and taking things out of context in a mob mentality, again. They even still for some reason believe Bean MK is canon and was "born and branded into slavery" when that was clearly just a wholesome way to do a crossover between me and @theweepingegg. Like, MK is an adult in this just like the others. I literally did an entire summary just some days ago, with art of him being normal-sized and not chibi-fied, about how MK joined the group. But of course they still say people are supposed to do their research, when they've clearly not done their own research on Bean MK if that's the only version to them that exists.

The fact that they already openly "exposed" my blog and all that to their followers too, without even trying to be vague at all anymore, is also starting to enter borderline harassment. Like that's literally just encouraging people to spread more unnecessary hate over literal opinions and assumptions.

Ironic, considering that blog's own controversial history.

From the unnecessary harassment of a Wattpad user over a few quotes/pick-up lines they allegedly "plagiarized" till their account deletion, to the unnecessary harassment of others for saying Nezha isn't a kid. There is literally a blog mentioning this allegation. Plus the Wattpad user could've been handled maturely like an actual adult, like y'know, talking to the author instead of being petty about it to your followers. Which is still very much something that apparently never changed about them. And after having witnessed them talk smack and lie openly about my own content on a blog of a game they're supposed to represent, I now fully believe all those harassment stories.

And despite all this, I'm still not even openly talking shit about them. Because I'm not a kid talking shit about another creator.

At this point I'm literally just about to ignore all that "drama" since I've already realized the topic hit a brickwall. Like, they're not gonna leave this very much unnecessary shit alone based on how they're still talking about it. But my care has already dwindled, knowing they're still acting like children trying to find something, literally anything, against me to rant about. I already stated my case multiple times and how the AU works. If one still takes the logical things I'm explaining out of context, then they can just keep that opinion to themselves. The "drama" literally hit the moment where all's just opinions and biases.

Now watch as either she or one of her followers will take screenshots of this post and take it all out of context as well. Because they will try to find any single piece of dirt on me to rant about.

And after some discussing about why the fuck this entire thing is even happening with some friends, and why the blog never actually notified me about shit personally, I will simply no longer respond to any allegations. I've already stated my side on the the mentioned allegations and no longer see the need in having to speak anymore. I'll just go back to doing my own thing, and you can go back to doing your own thing.

#lmk esau #eternal servants au #esau qna

[mrghostrat]

This isn’t really a question for you but to the other anons who say they “hate aus but love yours” and I kind of want to know why? I also LOVE your AUs and it’s not an insult to say they both (streamer/bnf) push the limits of the canon characters to almost breaking point. They’re really their own characters and it’s a good thing. But if you’re someone who hates aus I’m surprised they would go for the extremes? Have they just not given aus the chance? I think in their rush to praise you they’re unintentionally punching down on other aus. bBut if they like yours so much there’s so many other possibilities they could also love if they give aus a chance

i get it tbh! and i don’t think it’s inherently insulting to other AUs, because it’s not a matter of quality, it’s a matter of preference.

for some ppl, the characters’ roles as angel & demon and the STAKES that come with that, are so integral to their characterisation, and a key part of what makes their pining & their personalities recognisable. what they’ve been through, fighting the apocalypse and sneaking around under the noses of literal heaven and hell have formed them as people*, and their relationship, to an incomparible degree. and 6,000 years hits very different than a human lifespan.

it’s valid to prefer the setting that turned the characters into who they are. that’s the crowley and aziraphale we all love, after all. i love canon compliant or divergent fics, but for me, i just get restless reading such a narrow selection of plots and feelings, and have always loved the open-endness of AUs (in every fandom).

the other problem with AUs is that, by taking them out of their primary roles, it’s a lot easier for writers to tangent and drift away from accurate characterisation. without the tether of canon roles and settings and past decisions, you can very easily forget what makes them Them.

there are plenty of readers who consume fan fic because they want more stories about the characters AND the story/setting/context they’ve grown to love on the screen/page. i daresay most of them lol! i personally love characters more than anything, and like finding ways to tie their canon personalities and decisions into new settings, to see how they would approach human problems. but i understand feeling like crowley and aziraphale are only crowley and aziraphale when they’re in the universe that made them who they are now.

this isn’t to say that every other AU is badly written or unenjoyable. it’s just that it’s harder to get it right, which can be off putting for readers who value that to try and scour through the archive for something to read; and even when they are characterised well, it doesn’t change the fact that people who prefer canon simply don’t enjoy tearing them away from it. those people likely enjoy mine because i try very very hard to NOT make them their own characters, i want to change the setting and the stakes but i’m gandalf pouring over scrolls and documents trying to get every nuance of characterisation right, despite how Out Of Left Field the initial concept might seem. and so i’m lucky they’ve decided to give me a chance, be it from my art, my writing style, the snippets i share, or all the wonderful people who’ve recommended me.

source: i prefer human AUs and @thewolveswolf prefers canon compliant and we’ve had this discussion on the daily LMAO

#ask a rat #good omens #ugh pleeeease don’t be a controversial take #i’ve tried so hard to word this well #tldr everyone’s preferences are their own and no one’s insulting other writers

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

A Sight Second to None

tags: god!reader au, pre!relationship, pre!canon, god!reader and rukkhadevata aren’t siblings, happy lantern rite simps

a/n: it’s lantern rite time, i have to write something for the geo daddy so i figured why not give him something set in the god!reader universe. light spoilers for 3.2′s last act of the sumeru archon quest if you haven’t played it yet, and i’d give the first few bullets of god!reader’s lore guide a read here as well. other than that, enjoy, tell me your thoughts and talk about the god!reader cinematic universe with me.

"Is the décor to your liking?”

“I’ve told you once before, Morax, and I’ll tell you again,” you answer with a tone too stern for the question you were asked. “The sights of any country will always be second to that of my own.” 

Morax’s lips quirk into an amused smile. “I find second place to be better than last then if I have to ask Amur their opinion of my home.”

“This country’s geography has a lot of character.” Even if you’re the first to admit that Morax and yourself have never gotten along the best among the divine you knew, you wouldn’t be petulant enough to discredit his efforts.

You’ve seen many a fine sight in your centuries of living, Liyue is one of them. From the spears he cast to create the stone forest of Guyun to the lowest peaks of Liyue’s mountains; Morax worked hard to craft Liyue into its current image and he did a fine job.

“Just as long as you know Sumeru is the best. Our oases and forests are second to none.” Morax had seen them quite a few times due to your nations’ proximities to one another and the newfound allegiance of the Seven.

It was no longer an oddity to hear from your friend that she was being called to a small gathering Barbatos insisted she attend, nor was it odd when the other Archons found themselves visiting Rukkhadevata in Sumeru. What you presently find odd, however, is that this isn’t a gathering for the Seven.

It is simply you, merely one of the gods of Sumeru allied to the Dendro Archon, and Morax alone.

“Why not bring Rukkha here?” You finally bring yourself to ask. “She would love to see something like this, she’s interacted plenty with mortals.” You and the newly appointed Archon of Sumeru were similar that way, although your methodology differed. We’re old friends. Even more than that, perhaps both your similarities and differences were inevitable. We were born from the same tree, after all. Irminsul connects you both more deeply than could ever be expressed.

You are both one of many parts of it, a branch and a root respectively. Life and Death with the green of Dendro running through both your veins. She will always have your loyalty and you hers.

“Barbatos of Mondstadt has dragged you lot to plenty of parties.” you continue, pushing away your thoughts. If Morax picked up that your mind was bordering topics beyond his nation’s holiday, he doesn’t show it. If he has, you can appreciate him saying nothing. Perhaps Rukkhadevata wasn’t exaggerating when she said the Geo Archon had begun to mellow out since the last time you encountered him. “I’d expect an invitation like this from him. I thought you preferred the company of your adepti to anyone else.” Yet Morax requested your presence specifically. It was so abnormal you couldn’t help dragging yourself across the desert and forest of your homeland to your neighboring nation for answers.

The Lord of Geo’s face is unknowable. “I thought this sort of holiday would be to your liking.” At the curious raise of your eyebrow, Morax explains on smoothly. “Lantern Rite celebrates the lives of those who sacrificed their own for Liyue’s prosperity. Mortals, Gods and Adepti alike. Considering your philosophies, I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“Because we are alike,” you reply almost smugly. “Mortals and the divine. It doesn’t matter where we start, we all meet the same end. Every life on Teyvat is important.” It’s a point you and Morax could never agree on. Neither of you would yield even when Guizhong herself stepped in, finding the debate too heated even by her standards. Dendro and Geo are compatible elements by nature, that didn’t seem apply to you and Morax.  You thought him close-minded and stuck in his ways, he thought you young and inexperienced despite you only be a few millennia younger than him.

Oddly enough, however, that same Morax is sitting beside you with a look you almost deem fond.

"Anyway, even you should know that all the fun is down there,” you gesture broadly to Liyue Harbor. The lights of the lanterns shone similarly to the stars twinkling above the vast desert and you could hear the distant sounds of music. You aren’t surprised, however. Morax never interacted with his followers unless he had to and even then there was always a distance he placed between them.

“We can attend the festivities whenever you’d like,” Morax replies kindly and much too quickly for you to believe it.

You poke his forehead the way you would Deshret in his deep sleep, wondering if he dozed himself into an eternal slumber. “Is everything alright in there?” You query in disbelief. “Who are you and what have you done with Morax? Is there an imposter among the Seven? Should I alert all the Archons that the Lord of Geo’s been possessed by a fake?”

Grabbing your wrist, Morax halts your poking. Strangely enough, he doesn’t let go though his hold is gentle. “I’m not going mad, I’m simply taking a page out of your book, God of Festivals.”

A wave of embarrassment sweeps over you at the mention of what is becoming your most popular epithet and you gently tug your wrist from his grip. “I only started calling myself that so the people of Sumeru would stop balking at my ideal at the mere mention of it.” You and your friends all had your ideals, your own basis for what you considered wisdomー it was just unfortunate yours was the only one mortals had a primordial fear of.

“Life should be thought of as a grand festival”, you told your tribes. “Treat it like a celebration! Mortal children come into this world needing to be cared for by their elders and yet mortal elders become more like children the older they become, the youth taking their roles as providers. Your dreams, decisions and ambitions. Make them the games a child would play at a festival so they can return home without regrets! Mortals and the divine, we all return to the earth. Make sure you can return with no regrets! This is my wisdom.”

Morax chuckles at your sheepish expression and it isn’t the first time you resent his baritone voice. It should be forbidden for someone teasing you to have a voice so pleasant. “I like it, it’s very fitting of you.” At your sour glare, he reassures you his opinion is not in jest. “The gods of Sumeru all sought and continue to seek Wisdom, it’s the lifeblood of the nation. Even if our opinions have differed in the past, I’ve never doubted the wisdom you hold. I admire your tenacity, I’m not sure I would be able to find ways to make a subject most humans find taboo more palatable. At least, not in such a creative way.”

A quiet passes over the two of as you take in what was said. He isn’t joking, you’ve joked yourself in the past that the blockhead is too serious to joke. You find it unbearable to stare into amber eyes any longer, finding comfort in the warm glow of the capital in the distance. “You said if I wanted, we could see the festivities in person,” you begin after a few moments. “I’m considering this a contract from the Lord of Geo himself so let’s go.”

Another chuckle escapes Morax’s lips and you can’t hold back a snicker of your own. “The last time I visited Sumeru I saw you dancing with the mortals,” it feels random when Morax tells you this but his eyes are distant, chasing a memory. This time his expression looks undoubtedly fond. “It looked fun. I want to experience things as you view them, if you’ll allow me.”

“You don’t seem like much of a dancer,” you murmur quietly but you don’t disparage him.

“This isn’t a holiday that calls for dancing, but this is only the fifth Lantern Rite to ever take place,” Morax stands, holding a hand out for you to grab. You find it too easy to accept his offer and feel too self-conscious of how closely you are standing beside one another. “Perhaps that can be a change made if the people are given a little guidance.”

“Oh stop, you old rock,” you say out of habit. You feel as if you’ve had one too many drinks, noting again how Morax makes no move to separate his hand from your own. It’s strange but you don’t find the urge to fight it. It’s only for one night, only to see the festivities of Liyue’s newest yet most important holiday. “I want to see how the people here celebrate things without biased divine intervention. Just lead the way to the Harbor before I start growing over with moss.”

His smile is light, familiar with your sense of humor by now. “I’ll be sure to lead at a moderate pace then.”

#look she's writing #or at least trying to get over my writer's block by forcing myself to write SOMETHING #zhongli x reader #morax x reader #god!reader au #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #basically things are starting to settle down after the archon war and zhongli wants to begin acting on his feelings #he's been smitten with the reader for a long time now #consider this the part of the main canon for zhongli's spinoff in the god!reader au