#that's twice the time i need to turn this whole thing into a ridiculous art project | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

asimpletroll · 3 years

Text

(A) (M) Chisaki Kai X (O) (F) Reader

You?

You were the Omega who had been stinking up his base for the last month?

YOU?

"-so sorry, so so sorry, I didn't see you, I was looking for Eri, Rappa startled her again, I swear I didn't mean to bump you-" You babble at Chisaki, close to your heat and scared of every Alpha in the base at the moment. You don't realize how his eyes have zeroed in on you, you're too busy cowering against the wall, trying to apologize and make sure he doesn't hit you, or worse.

"Be quiet." You immediately shut up, your throat feeling constricted even though he didn't use his Alpha tone or his Quirk on you, you look at him with watering (e/c) orbs as he strides over, taking off his coat slowly. "Your slick is dripping. I'll have someone else look for Eri, you need to get to your nest."

"...I...I live in the barracks, I-I can't-"

"Then come with me." He wraps an arm around you with care he never uses, making sure to keep his coat (you're so small it drops nearly to your knees, and Chisaki is swooning on the inside at how cute you look) between the two of you and wrapped securely around you so that no one else sees your current...predicament.

Chisaki notices your fear increasing, almost every step towards his private wing making you pump out more and more fear in your scent.

Normally, he can't even smell you, which is mildly disappointing to him because you smell citrus-y and a little sweet, but it was always very subtle and clean.

Now, all he could smell was your fear, and the urge to hole you away from everyone and everything was making him very twitchy as he opens the door to his wing.

You instinctively pause upon the threshold, your Omega screaming that this means this Alpha likes you, that it was time to Mate. Chisaki waits for you patiently, knowing the battle you're fighting and being fascinated by the micro-expressions racing through you. Your pupils twitch slightly in every which way, your ears perk and shift a little with noises, and your nose wrinkles a little (like the bunny he had as a child would) as you get particularly stressed.

"I cannot find you someplace comfortable if we loiter for much longer." He finally speaks up and tells you, you flinch a little, but follow his unmentioned command of 'hurry up' and almost bump into him again as he closes the door.

As soon as it shuts, lights flick on, and this time he gently wraps an arm around your waist as you spook. He gently lets you recover from your heart attack adjust to his touch, then guides you past several rooms that reek of other Alphas to you, and the locks on the door along with how reinforced they are tell you all you need to know about what might be in those rooms.

"I am unfamiliar with creating a space for a Heat, but I understand you require lots of blankets and soft things?" Chisaki asks you lowly, he spots the tiny hairs on the back of your neck rising, and your own scent smells sweeter, even with the fear overlaying it.

"Yes." You whisper, and try to hide (due to his lack of comment, you guess you hide it) the fact that you get mildly horny at just his voice.

Chisaki is amused by this, mostly by the fact that your entire face had turned red and was a very clear indicator of your dilemma to him.

"Why are you so afraid, Omega?" He asks you conversationally, as if he had by total and complete accident of course not dropped his voice several octaves just fool with you. You repress a shiver, and he grins under his mask, a very feral and smug grin, as he gently inhales your sweetened scent a bit more.

"M-My parents...they didn't...didn't want an Omega...didn't want me...so they would destroy my nests...even before I was revealed to be Quirkless..." You murmur quietly, timidly almost, to him, and he feels himself harden at how perfect you were for him.

"Why would they do that? Children smaller than four years old require softness or they are in danger of chewing something into pieces or eating it whole." Chisaki keeps his voice low, loving how you try and repress another shiver, and your pheromones almost choke him as he tries to gently sniff them again.

If you two didn't find an appropriate area soon, he may simply take you to his den, which would be twice as dangerous for the both of you.

"I...I don't know...it was...mildly better...after my little brother was born. He was a boy, an Alpha too, and he had a Quirk." You tell him, trying to make your clenching pelvic muscles stop their ridiculousness. Chisaki is too busy rolling his eyes to notice that you're starting to hold on to his coat a little tighter to try and hide the fact that your pants are officially soaked through.

"Oh...they're those types of people..." Chisaki says, his voice the lowest yet in barely-withheld rage, and a pitched whine escapes you before you wrap a hand around the base of your throat. Chisaki almost walks into a wall in surprise, you immediately sidestep as he steadies himself.

"I'm sorry-" You immediately return to the babbling mess you were in the hall, trying to appease him when even you can tell he isn't angry, in fact, if the crinkles by his eyes are any indicator, he's smiling under his mask.

But you're scared. And horny. So you run your mouth without thinking, apologizing frantically before he gently wraps his arm around your waist, he gently tugs you close to him, you keep your eyes averted and lowered to the floor, but he removes his face mask entirely in order to kiss your forehead gently.

You clench the hand around your throat tighter as he re-places his mask back on his face, he then runs a hand through your short hair tenderly. You look up at him from under your eyebrows, your lashes dark and long and thick as they frame your gorgeous (e/c) orbs.

"You simply startled me, there is no reason to apologize." He rumbles to you, his voice much lower now as his Alpha starts to really push for some attention. He watches with amusement and arousal as you clench your legs together, the slick now dripping low enough for him to see it, even with his jacket around you. "But may I ask you something?"

"Y-Yes, sir." You squeak, Chisaki goes from hard to full-blown, raging erection, you can barely hear him inhale, a very subtle noise that doesn't quite click in your mind until he presses the two of you together.

"...have you ever had an Alpha before?" He purrs, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head and all the fear leaves you immediately as you melt into him. "I'm guessing not."

"N-None o-of them-" You squeak slightly in indignation as Chisaki plucks you up from the floor like a ragdoll, gathering you into his chest and not minding your wet and sticky slick soaking into his chest. "-None of them ever w-wanted a Q-Quirkless Omega."

Chisaki is immediately disappointed, not in you or anything about you, but at the rest of society for letting such a sweet and pure thing sink so low as him.

"They were fools then, and did not deserve you." Chisaki turns down a hall, and it's getting very hard for you to not nuzzle him. His musky, beautiful scent was everything you've ever liked, blended together in such a complex way you couldn't describe all of the unique notes and subtle tones of it. Chisaki notices you eyeing his neck and gently presses your face into it, you let out a startled, but pleasantly so, squeak, and he purrs for real this time at the adorable noise.

Your slick surges and you let out a much higher-pitched purr, leaning in against him as he opens a door quietly, the hall light flicks off and leaves you in darkness before Chisaki gently closes the door with his heel. You've buried your face in his neck, blinding yourself to the fact that Chisaki has brought you to his room, his den and haven.

At least, until his no-longer-gloved hands sneak their way under his jacket, undoing a single button on your shirt to lay themselves on your bare waist. You gasp softly in surprise, moving your face from his neck just enough to give him a startled look.

He nuzzles you, closing his eyes and leaning his back against the door as he openly relaxes, holding you close while gently fondling your slightly-chubby-but-not-noticeably waist.

"C-Chisaki?" You squeak, one of his hands immediately rolls your shirt up and off of you, you squeak again in surprise, but he tossing your shirt and his coat haphazardly onto the floor. You immediately cover your breasts, your face once again blushing strongly, and he quickly does away with his masks as well, hanging them on a hook by the door as he gently turns your face to his by tenderly grasping your chin.

"I want you, Omega. I want you, (Y/N)." He rumbles, striding forward as you turn into a flustered, slicking, horny mess in his arms. His voice is like pure sex but only the deep, tasteful, romantic parts of it.

You mewl a little as he gently places you on his bed, but he rests his arms by your head and kisses you deeply, swallowing anymore noise with tenderness and care. You forget about your embarrassment as he gently move his lips against yours, his cock straining against his pants and pressing up against your legs a bit as he leans over you.

"Do you want me also?" Chisaki murmurs to you once the two of you run out of air to suck from each other's lungs, you immediately wrap yourself around him tightly. "Do you want me like I want you, (Y/N)?"

"Yes, Chisaki, yes I want you-" You don't get another words out as he kisses you again, his hands easily finding and undoing your bra before starting on the buttons of his shirt. Once you run out of air, he starts kissing the underside of your jaw as you pant quietly, he has to pause (his frustration visible) in order to pull his shirt off. You immediately touch the intricate, but traditional tattoos on his arms, pecs, and (you're willing to bet) his back. "You're so pretty, Chisaki."

"So are you, (Y/N), you just don't have art to paw at." He purrs as he descends on you again, you happily undo his tie for him as he kisses you, and the fact that you fumble with it from the distraction of kissing is adorable to him, and he can feel a small wet patch grow do to his leaking precum. You two pause again, and he attacks your throat and neck with powerful sucks and languid swipes of his tongue as you grind your clothed sex against his.

You gasp quietly when he whips your bra across the room, but he gently fondles one breast and you turn into a melty mess again. He chuckles, happily going back to his network of hickies trailing down your throat and across your shoulder. You happily tangle your hands in his hair, pressing him against you further with soft mewls of encouragement.

"A-Alpha, stop teasing!" You finally reach your breaking point, Chisaki almost rips your dress slacks in his immediately eagerness to get them off of you, you giggle a little and he blushes, burying his face in your neck before you tempt him out with kisses to his cheekbone and nose and the tip of his ear.

Then he actually rips them, his face morphing into one of shock and embarrassment as you giggle loudly and nuzzle him. He mumbles a hasty apology before eagerly pulling them off you, taking your panties with and tossing the mess by the foot of the bed before crawling up your body and trailing lazy kisses up from your bellybutton.

"Why are your pants still on?" You tease, kissing his nose before he can reply, he nips your bottom lip playfully, stilling feeling you up as you squirm gently.

"So impatient, (Y/N)." He teases right back, gently tugging on one of your nipples, you steal another kiss from him as he other hand (that is not forming a bruise on your nipple, not at all, no siree) trails down and teasingly circles your puffy little clit. You gasp in surprise, and Chisaki happily presses forward and slips his tongue and one finger into you at the same time. You melt into a happy, horny, submissive puddle under him, causing him to let out a deep and rumbling purr as he explores your mouth with fervent heat and dominance.

He gently explores your opening too, feeling you flutter around that single digit and getting painfully hard in his pants as he stretches you around a second finger. Your slick makes it easier, but it's still painfully obvious that you are still new at this. (So is Chisaki, but he's hoping you're too horny and heat-addled to realize this.)

You eagerly spread your legs a little, beyond ready for this part as your fingers once again find their way into Chisaki's well-kept hair and tangling it. You moan as his two fingers start to gently stretch you, you can feel Chisaki smile into the kiss a little before it goes from 'romantic exploring' into a creature of teeth and tongue and lots of purring from you both.

Unfortunately, Chisaki knows that you still need prepping, and as much as he enjoys the savage kiss, he separates to let you breathe and whimper and mewl as he continues to stretch you. (Both of you think this is taking a while, but this hasn't even been ten minutes since your butt hit his mattress.)

You surprise him when you nip his ear, but he happily turns your head and sucks on the tender skin underneath one of yours, returning you to the panting, mewling puddle. Your slick has surged so many times, his entire hand is covered up to his wrist, and he hasn't even gotten knuckle-deep yet.

"Such a messy Omega, (Y/N), look at what your naughty cunt has done to my hand." Chisaki purrs absolute filth into your ear, and your eyes roll slightly as you let out a porn star-worthy moan, his hips grind up against you exposed inner thigh roughly as he lets out a possessive growl. "Tell me, my messy Omega, who's making you so wet?"

"You, Chisaki, you are, Alpha!" You mewl, he slips a third finger in, starting to actually move deeper into you as you moan again, he happily continues to dirty-talk in your ear, telling you that this would have happened a lot sooner if you had told him that you were an Omega, he would have gladly bent his little nanny over his desk anytime. Or maybe he should've made you Present yourself to him, without any pesky suppressants to quell your scent, then he would've seen what a messy little cunt that hide itself in such a clean, proper suit would've been capable of.

Or maybe he should open the door, let the entire base hear you get railed.

You dissolve under him, not realizing that he's dissolving right with you, pulling his head closer to you as he finally extracts his fingers and simply Overhauls the rest of his clothes off. (Speaking of, where are your shoes? You swore you had them on in the hall, but your feet are bare now.)

"(Y/N), this may sting." Chisaki whispers into your ear, his head nudging your entrance gently, you tuck your face into his neck tightly, but you aren't afraid, simply nervous.

It does sting, but only enough to make you gasp a little, and that gasp is mostly from shock at Chisaki's sheer size. His girth and length were both big, and while he knows you've never had an Alpha before, this still made his already huge ego blimp.

"Chisaki, Alpha, you're huge." You pant into his neck, he struggles to fit himself into you, and you can feel the veins throbbing against your walls as he slowly sinks in, inch by inch, and you mewl once he reaches your G-spot. You pant against his skin as he slowly bottoms out in you, you can feel him twitching inside of you, but you were seeing stars anyway. "A-Alpha-"

"Sh, (Y/N), you need to adjust, Omega." He purrs into your ear, but his cock twitches strongly inside you at the thought of wrecking you severely, to where no man or Alpha could ever satisfy you again. "You're like a vice, Omega, you're squeezing me so tightly. What will happen when I blow my knot, hm? You're so small, I could break you in half with it."

You let out a sinful noise that Chisaki can barely recognize as an orgasm as you sink your teeth into his neck a little. You wrap your legs around his slim waist, anchoring him to you as your walls try to milk him through your orgasm.

"I can't wait for that sound to be my name, to hear you scream so hard the walls rattle-" This kick-starts his dirty-talk again as you slowly calm down, occasionally he shifts his hips, stimulating you just enough for you to know he's teasing you again. You actually clamp down on him and he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan that could make millions, and he slowly grinds against you.

"Naughty Omega, you naughty, naughty Omega." He rumbles from your shoulder, you pant happily in his ear, every deep, slow roll of his hip making you see stars all over again. "I should punish you for that, you naughty thing."

"Then punish me." You pant in his ear, the lick up the shell of it as he groans again, pushing a little harder against you this roll, "Punish me Alpha, make me regret teasing you."

Chisaki rumbles, he drags his hips out, and you expect another languid roll that hits all the right places, but he slams into you like a bullet-train instead.

You try to gasp in surprise, but he smirks against you skin, and that is the only warning you have before he starts pistoning his hips into yours at barely-human speeds.

"Gladly, Omega."

You open your eyes, sprawled out across Ch-Kai's chest, your face nuzzled under his chin softly as he continues to sleep while fully sheathed in you. You blink slowly and lazily a few times, trying to remember what day it is, and yawn quietly as you ponder. Kai shifts under you slightly as he stirs, you gently press your face back into the comfortable position you two had.

"How long have you been awake, (Y/N)?" He purrs at you, gently nuzzling you back as you yawn quietly against his throat. "Not long, sleepy-head?"

"Of course not, or I would've brought food." You sit up a little, your fresh Mating Mark stinging slightly as part of the coverlet falls off that shoulder. Kai gently licks it, you hum and kiss the side of his face gently. "If my math is right, today is Kurono's turn to make breakfast, he usually does something simple, like Omurice."

"Yes, but breakfast requires getting out of bed." Kai mutters, gently pulling you back down on his chest, you muffle a laugh at him as he settles his chin on the top of your head. "What? Eri was right when she called you the perfect cuddle-partner, as it turns out."

#soft #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #bnha villains #overhaul #bnha smut #mha smut #villain smut #overhaul smut #omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #a/b/o

606 notes · View notes

be-gay-do-heists · 3 years

Note

hardison/parker || masc day for parker, potentially while on date with hardison

i think it ended up a little more the dysphoria route with this one but i hope this at least touches on what u were looking for!! had a spark of an idea and had to write it :V

---

If it was just the dress, maybe Parker could stand it.

Hardison had won choosing date night this time around, and he had suggested a new restaurant that recently opened up on the other side of town. A nicer restaurant. Which meant fancier clothes and Hardison had said the dress code recommended dresses so. The dress. It had been fine, leaving the brewpub in it to go meet Hardison at the restaurant. It was comfy enough, the fabric had a nice texture, and it was the same kind of green that you could see if you looked sideways at a professionally cut emerald, which was one of their favorite colors.

It was only upon arriving at the restaurant that they realized they really, really, really did not want to be wearing it.

And if it was just the dress, maybe it would be fine. But they were out in public, and Parker had come to understand over the years that if people in public thought they had your gender clocked, you had to act, walk, and talk a certain way if you didn’t want weird stares, unwelcome attention. A performance that they didn’t particularly have the energy for if there wasn’t a con and the promise of a payout at the end of it. The first “miss” they got from the hostess made them twitch, but they made sure to keep their mask up as they saw Hardison, already at the table, who smiled sunnily as they approached and stood to help with their chair. He was wearing his purple suit, the deep plum colored one that reminded them of a bottle full of red wine.

“Wow. You look amazing, I can’t believe you’ve been hiding that dress for so long,” he said as they both sat down. “It’s not one of Sophie’s?” There was a trace of playfulness in his voice.

“No, it’s mine, I didn’t steal it,” Parker replied, latching onto his good mood for stability. They fidgeted, hyperaware of their bare shoulders and the cut of the dress around their torso. “Well, not from her anyways.”

Hardison snorted in that fond way of his. “Hey, it’s not stealing if it looks that good on you. That’s just proper re-appropriation. Anyways, you’re gonna love this place, the whole idea is normal fancy food, boring boring et cetera, but! They change the colors around so it messes with your senses and makes you experience it differently, you get me? I’m talking like green steaks, purple mashed potatoes. Cool, right?”

“Yeah, sounds great,” Parker agreed absently, discreetly hunching a little and hoping Hardison wouldn’t notice. They fiddled with the utensils on the table, which had little chameleons etched on them. That was fun. This was supposed to be fun, they reminded themselves.

“Hey, you ok?” Hardison asked, brows furrowed.

A waiter came up before he could say more. “Welcome, folks, pleasure to have you with us this evening. Can I start you with drinks?” After Hardison, concern still showing in his face ordered a fruity-sounding cocktail, the waiter turned to Parker. “And for the lady?”

They couldn’t help their flinch, knowing that Hardison saw it, and pulled out their most flawless grifting voice to respond. They deflated a little again once the waiter left.

“Shit. I shouldn’t have said dress. I should have specified that you could have worn anything you wanted, who even cares about restaurant dress codes,” the hacker said, rubbing his hands over his face. Parker had to give it to him, sometimes his brain worked faster than his computers, and he was always twice as perceptive. “Is it a they night? A he night?”

Parker shrugged a little apologetically. “I’m not sure. It’s just really, really not a she night.”

“I’m really sorry Parker, I should have checked in before we came,” Hardison sighed, and having him in the loop did actually make Parker feel a little better. “Do you wanna get out of here? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable for any longer than you have to.”

Parker immediately felt bad again. “No, you won date night, you were so excited about this place.”

“Man, don’t even sweat it,” Hardison reassured them, waving a hand. “We can come back some other time when we’re actually feeling it. Or if it’s never the date vibes, I can ask Sophie if she wants to try it sometime. You know she gets a kick out of dressing up and I’m sure she would call this place ‘an exercise in creative expression and reaction’ or something.” He smiled at Parker’s bark of laughter following his terrible impression of Sophie, which made a couple other patrons startle in their seats.

“I don’t really want to be in this dress anymore,” Parker admitted. “Maybe we could go back to the brewpub and do something there?”

“Hey, if I ever refuse a quiet night in, know that I’ve been replaced with a clone or maybe a mind-eating fungus,” Hardison beamed at them, and flagged down the waiter to pay for their drinks with a tip that made the man’s jaw drop, letting Parker lead the way out.

On the ride home, Hardison gave Parker his suit jacket, pretending he was too hot even though it was damp and cold out. It was far too big for the thief and they thought it was kind of ridiculous how it came down to almost their knees, but the broad shoulders on it made them feel good. And the wine color purple was fantastic, even though they thought it looked far better on Hardison. They said as much, and took a silent satisfaction in the way Hardison ducked his chin to hide his face.

Entering back into the safety of the brewpub and the upstairs apartment took a weight off Parker, and they sighed, kicking off their shoes and slipping off Hardison’s jacket to cast onto the back of the couch. Hardison picked up to carefully keep it from creasing with a “heaven help me” kind of look. “You got everything you wanna wear here? Need anything of mine?”

“Mostly, but…” Parker thought aloud. “Could I borrow one of your shirts? The soft ones?”

Hardison nodded fondly. “Sure thing, lemme grab one.” While he was in the bedroom, Parker stripped off their dress like it was burning them, shaking the feeling of it away once it was off. They spotted their good jeans on the chair by the hallway that Hardison liked to call “Parker’s wardrobe,” where all the clothes they had left while over lived, and rushed to put them on. They were comfy and boxy and had a button-up fly. More buttons felt good.

“Incoming,” Hardison’s voice called, and he entered with his eyes covered, tossing a shirt in their direction. Parker jumped to catch it, and quietly approved of his selection, a wooly flannel type. They wiggled it on, tucking it in slightly, and exhaled in relief on how delightfully big it was, draping off the prominent muscles in their shoulders, leaving enough room on their torso so that the fabric wouldn’t cling to them. They rolled up the sleeves to expose their strong forearms, looked down at their broad hands. Yeah, this was much better, they thought, tying up their hair high.

“I’ve still got those canvases from last time, and the same paints, if you wanna do that. Ooh, I just got some good charcoal too if you’d rather sketch,” Hardison was saying, sifting through his art supplies. Parker bounded over and pressed up against his side. He jumped slightly but turned to look at them. “Feeling better?”

“Lots,” Parker hummed.

The hacker took in their outfit change. “And looking damn handsome too. Real suave, James Dean kinda look.” When Parker wryly grinned and crossed their arms, squaring their shoulders and standing tall, he mimed a swoon (Parker could see the slight, genuine flush that rose to his face). “So what do you wanna do tonight?”

“Dunno, it’s still your date night,” Parker replied, putting a little more husk in their voice and enjoying the way they could see Hardison’s thoughts stutter slightly.

He recovered quickly. “Well, all I want is a nice night in with my fella, whatever we do is gonna be more than alright with me.”

Parker felt another glow of joy at the endearment, and moved to wrap their arms tightly around him, one hand coming up to grip the back of the hacker’s neck. “Thanks Hardison. I really mean it.”

Hardison softened a little against their firm embrace. “Of course, I never want you to be uncomfortable. I love you.”

“I know,” Parker responded, and smiled mischievously into Hardison’s shoulder as he sputtered.

“Oh no you did not—“

#i will die before i stop loving characters talking w and affirming each other #thank u so much for all ur prompts!!! i def hope to get to a couple more of them when i next get some writing energy #i really hope this is somewhat what u were looking for #leverage #miko speaks #my fic #parker x hardison #gender dysphoria #ask #havent had the bad gender feelings in a while so hope this works

196 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

Text

Burn The Witch 4 - Making Believe [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: A lot can happen in a coffee shop.

Series Masterlist

Considering all the missions your superiors had sent you, this wasn’t the first one to make you end up with a gunshot wound, but it was the first one that you were assigned to seduce the target and ended up with a gunshot wound as a first impression.

Now that you had met Bucky, the next step would be easier. You just hoped he wouldn’t suspect something was up like General kept warning you about, so you had to make sure to memorize every single detail of your cover story.

Instead of being a trained assassin, you were now working in a milkshake shop.

Instead of having lived there your whole life, you were now clueless about the city since you had recently moved there.

Instead of liking horror movies, you now loved rom-coms.

New identity, new apartment, new car, new everything. It was as if the real you had never existed, but none of that was your biggest issue right now.

It was your new uniform for the milkshake shop.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered to yourself, looking in the mirror before fixing your skirt. Even after a week, you still weren’t used to wearing it, the uniform was some sort of a retro diner waitress costume with red and white stripes, cinched waist and a white apron over the short skirt. “I’m going to kill whoever picked this after I’m done with the mission.”

“Y/N?” Chloe called out from the living room, “Come on, we need to go over everything for today.”

You ran a hand over your face and walked to the living room to find your two best friends sprawling on the couch. Keith let out a laugh as soon as he saw you in that outfit, but managed to hide it by pressing his fist on his lips while Chloe kicked at his boot.

“I didn’t say anything!” He held up his hands, “Will you break my phone again if I take a picture?”

“Yeah,” you pointed at him, “I will, so don’t even.”

“We need to go over the plan,” Chloe said, “Today is the day you accidentally run into Barnes, he’ll be at that coffee shop.”

“How do you know where he will be?”

Chloe scoffed, “Hello? I’m a genius hacker?”

Keith sat up straighter, turning the pages of your file.

“Okay so,” he said, “You guys will probably make some small talk, let’s have some practice. Pretend I’m Bucky, how will you talk about yourself?”

“We don’t need to practice it, it’s not my first rodeo,” you reminded him “I got this.”

“Y/N, no offense but he isn’t some clueless civilian okay? The guy was going after targets before you or your parents were born for that matter. The tiniest mistake could tip him off.”

“He has a point.”

“Fine,” you sighed, fixing your nametag, “Let’s practice then.”

Keith took a deep breath and cleared his throat, “Look at that, we ran into each other again.”

You frowned at his deep voice, “Bucky doesn’t sound like one of those robots in the Terminator, Keith.”

“I’m in the zone, just go with it,” he said as offered you his hand, and you shook it.

“Yeah, hi again.”

“I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Oh that’s normal, I just moved here. A month ago.”

“You just moved here?” he repeated “Really? Did you get used to the city yet?”

“A little.”

“I bet your family misses you.”

“Not really, I grew up with my grandmother. She passed away last year.”

“Any siblings?”

“No.”

Keith raised his brows, “Can you be less specific?”

“Keith—“

“You’re not acting like a civilian right now, you’re acting like a spy who has been forced to socialize and he will see right through that,” he told you. “You have to give him more details, civilians talk about themselves a lot.”

“It’s true,” Chloe said, “Once I was in this speed dating thing and just- don’t ask. They don’t stop talking about themselves.”

Keith pursed his lips only for a moment, stealing a look at Chloe before turning to you,

“Let’s try again. Any siblings?”

You rolled your eyes, “Unfortunately not. I’m an only child but when I was a kid, I kept begging my parents for a sister. My mom asked me what would happen if I got a brother, apparently I went like “but mommy, you can give him back then!””

“There we go, embarrassing childhood memories,” Keith grinned, “Good idea.”

You checked your wristwatch, “I gotta run,” you said, “You guys can see yourselves out.”

“I was actually hoping I could stay a little more,” Chloe said, “To make this place look a bit more appropriate. I suppose you’ll bring him here at some point?”

You pulled your brows together, looking around. “Yeah, so? There’s a bedroom.”

“Ever the romantic, this one,” Keith said and Chloe shook her head,

“Y/N, he needs to see something personal otherwise he might get suspicious.”

You pursed your lips, deep in thought, “You mean like sex toys?”

“Oh Jesus…”

“Contrary to popular belief, when people say they want to see something personal, they don’t refer to sex toys.” Keith stated helpfully, “That being said, we’re all screwed if you end up falling for a civilian, you have no idea how to act like one.”

“I meant personal as in stuff to make your place look more homely,” Chloe explained, “Things from your cover’s past that show him we didn’t fabricate this whole identity.”

“Even if we did,” Keith mumbled under his breath and she nodded.

“Even if we did. He needs to see something personal when he comes here, like…” she motioned at the walls, “Like your childhood pictures or your art projects from when you were seventeen.”

“I was learning how to use a pencil as a knife when I was seventeen, Chloe.”

“Exactly. Just let me handle it, I’ve been watching so many makeover shows lately.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Knock yourself out,” you said, “I have milkshakes to fill, see you guys later.”

“Go get him tiger!”

“You got this!” Chloe called out as you walked to the door, “Just be confident and your milkshake will bring all the ex-assassins to the yard!”

You let out a small laugh, then closed the door behind you before throwing your shoulders back and going down the stairs.

***

Approaching the target as your training taught you had to have certain steps. You couldn’t just implant yourself in their life, you had to wait until they thought it was their choice to include you in their lives. Sometimes it took more time than you had patience for, but in the end it was worth it.

Seeing that Bucky Barnes was no civilian, every single step had to be checked twice.

Well the uniform would help the mission, at least a little.

A distracted target was a good target.

You lowered the binoculars before pushing them into your purse and fixing the apron wrapped around your waist. Bucky was sitting with Sam at the coffee shop and they seemed to be in a deep discussion, not even aware of what was going on around them. You took a deep breath and approached the door before you pushed it, then slowly made your way to the barista.

“Hi, can I get a cappuccino please? Small.” You smiled at her and went to the counter on the right to wait for your order. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sam looking at you with a frown before saying something to Bucky, nodding in your direction. You kept your eyes on the counter, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet before you scratched around the tape of the bandage over the bullet wound absentmindedly.

Come on…. you thought Come on, approach me already, just come here….

“Here you go, miss.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the cup off the counter before you started pouring sugar into it just to stall, and finally heard someone clear their throat behind you.

Bingo.

You looked over your shoulder and turned around, your jaw dropping.

“Come on,” you let out a giggle, “Is this real?”

Bucky smiled slightly and pursed his lips together as if he wasn’t familiar with the gesture, “Uh…hi.”

“Hi!” you said, your voice way too high pitched for a moment, “Wow. We meet again, my hero.”

His smile widened and he rubbed the back of his neck, “How’s your arm?”

“Healing,” you ran a finger over the tape of the bandage, “I didn’t die, that’s something. But the doctor said that was the worst bullet wound he had ever seen in his life.”

Bucky frowned, “Wait, really?”

“No, I’m just trying to look badass,” you admitted, making him chuckle, “They didn’t even think it needed stitches.”

“Ah,” he said and motioned at your uniform, “So you’re a…?”

You scrunched up your nose in what you hoped to be a cute manner and shot him an abashed look, “I know. I thought the exact same thing when I first saw myself in it.”

“I doubt that,” he mumbled more to himself and you tilted your head, batting your lashes.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, “So the uniform?”

“I work at this milkshake shop just around the corner,” you said, “Apparently retro shops are popular nowadays. It’s supposed to look like this pin up style— can you tell me what’s wrong with the dress so that I can tell the owner what a ridiculous idea it is?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again, looking you up and down, “I don’t- it’s-“ he stammered “You know, it was such a long time ago. I think it looks perfectly fine.”

“Does it?”

“Absolutely.”

You grinned at him, “Well in any case, you should drop by sometime. Milkshakes are better than the uniform, I promise.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah! I would’ve invited you sooner but by the time I was done at the hospital you had already left, and they also told me you paid for the whole thing and the taxi, so…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved a hand, “It’s nothing.”

You bit down on your lip, “If you don’t mind me asking,” you said softly, “Why did you leave in a hurry? I mean obviously you didn’t have to stay, I’m sure you’re very busy and—“

“No no, it’s nothing like that,” Bucky cut you off, “I just didn’t want you to think you owed me anything, that’s all.”

“Huh,” you clicked your tongue, “I see. I was wondering what the catch was, didn’t have to wait that long. That’s good to know.”

He raised his brows, amused for some reason, “What’s the catch?”

“You’re too much of a gentleman.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not really,” you taunted him “Just unfamiliar.”

His gaze lingered on you as you took a sip of your coffee, keeping your eyes on him.

“I hope you got home safe though,” he said after a beat and you thought for a moment.

“I did, and now I know to stay away from dark alleys in New York,” you said, “Lesson learned I’d say.”

“You’re not from around here?”

“I- no, I actually moved here just a month ago,” you said, “I grew up in a small town, we didn’t really have robbers or anything. And I managed to get mugged within the first thirty days in a big city. A true New York experience, I feel like I belong here already.”

“Your folks must be losing their minds if you attract trouble that fast in the city.”

“No one is losing their minds, it’s just me,” you said and when you saw his quizzical glances, you felt the need to explain. “I grew up with my grandma and I lost her a year ago, so…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ah it’s okay,” you said, “She wouldn’t want me to live in sadness, she told me that herself. You can’t focus on what ifs, you know? We just decide what to do with the time left for us and that’s it. Past would drive all of us crazy otherwise.”

He looked almost surprised at your take on loss and when you saw the soft light in his eyes, you knew you had just hit jackpot.

“You’re a glass half full kind of person, huh?”

Nope, I’m more of a “use the glass as a weapon” kind of person.

“Yeah,” you said, “There are enough pessimists in the world, and they don’t need me within their ranks. No one really did anything nice by thinking the worst anyways.”

“Oh you were definitely not raised here.”

Your jaw dropped, “You know what Mr. Barnes, I’d take that as an offense but lucky for you, you saved me the other day, so I’ll let that slide.”

“Mm hm,” He looked like he was struggling with himself not to laugh, “Lucky me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, then checked your wristwatch.

“I should probably go, my boss cares a lot about punctuality,” you said, “But is it okay if I gave you my number?”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds as if he couldn’t believe you.

“Wait- really?”

“I mean I was going to wait until you asked me, but apparently you’re too much of a gentleman,” you joked as he hastily grabbed his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. You typed in your number, then saved it.

Y/N (The Milkshake Girl)

Bucky tilted his head, his brows furrowed, “What, you didn’t think I’d recognize your name?”

“Well it’s better to be safe than sorry,” you joked, “Besides you should really come by sometime. We have the best chocolate milkshakes. It’s on the house.”

He smiled, “I will.”

You took a step, then held your breath and turned around as if you had just remembered something.

As if it wasn’t all practiced.

“But not after 4 on Mondays and Wednesdays,” you said, “I volunteer at the soup kitchen then.”

That light in his eyes was almost gentle, as if he was worried he could hurt you just by looking at you, but couldn’t stop himself from doing so.

“I’ll see you not after 4 on Mondays and Wednesdays then,” he said and you giggled, then turned around and walked to the door. Sam was watching you with a small, proud grin on his lips so you waved at him and left the coffee shop, still holding the warm cup tightly in your hand.

As soon as you were sure you were out of their sight, you dropped the smile, exhaled a relaxed breathe and grabbed your phone to touch the contact on the screen.

“I’m sorry, our delivery service is down right now,” the voice said and you scratched around the tape on your arm before telling her the code;

“That’s okay, I can wait until the rain stops.”

There was a click on the other line and soon enough you heard the assistant’s voice.

“Hello?”

“This is Shrike, put me through the General.”

“Of course, a second please,” she said and you tossed the cup into the garbage can, then General’s voice reached you.

“Shrike?”

“Sir, I just called to inform you that I’ve contacted the target for the second time,” you said, “Everything is going according to plan, my report will be on your desk by tonight.”

“He didn’t suspect anything?”

“No sir.”

“Okay,” he said, “Don’t move too fast, alright? We don’t want to spook him.”

“Of course.”

“And Shrike?” he said, “Good job.”

A smile lit up your face, “Thank you sir,” you said and hung up, closing your eyes and leaning back to the wall.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, “You got this, he’s just another target. Let the games begin.”

Chapter 5

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #bucky barnes x you

589 notes · View notes

tfwlawyers · 3 years

Note

Not me singlehandedly going through your entire parent trap au I’m so invested even though like half of the posts are from 2015 💀

THESE THINGS HAPPEN I get such a kick out of knowing this au is still making its rounds though 😭😭

and yk what just because I know I’m never going to do anything else with this, have a 3.5k attempted scramble of fic for this au I tried writing back also in 2015. i was even less of a writer back then than I am now so it’s absolutely terrible but have at thee

“Oh, wait...” Trucy winced and tapped her earring. Apollo’s eyes widened in realization. “Looks like we have one more thing to do tonight - it’ll be super quick, I promise.”

“Oh no,” Apollo said, visibly paling, “there’s no way you’re doing that to me-”

“Then cutting my hair was a total waste,” Trucy huffed, tugging at a newly shorn lock, “because there’s no way I can go to camp with pierced ears and come home without. Come on, Polly, where’s your sense of adventure? It’s just one little pinch!”

“Just one?” he asked hesitantly, eyes now trained on the sharp needle laying on the table.

Trucy paused. “Well... I guess it’s technically two. I really only wear the one earring, but both my ears are pierced.”

Apollo sighed. “Great.”

“Nah, I got this,” Trucy said, grinning toothily. “I went with Aunt Maya when she wanted to get hers pierced, even though she chickened out at the last second.” She picked up the needle and a book of matches from the table, eyes glinting. “I had to get mine repierced because of infection the first time too. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“Put that apple slice back,” Apollo said, narrowing his eyes at the piece of fruit in Trucy’s hands. “They’re acidic, I don’t need that anywhere near me and oh God you’re really going to shove a piece of metal into my ear, aren’t you-”

“You sure I look okay?” he asked, patting down the skirt. He squinted down at the stark white boots he’d thankfully fit into. “I’m terrified to walk in these, they look like death traps -”

“Which is why we’re practicing,” Trucy said primly, wiping her hands on a gel-stained rag. She still didn’t quite have a grasp on the correct ratio of product to actual hair, but she was much better than when they had started five weeks ago. “Now, walk towards me.”

“One last thing, I guess,” Apollo said, removing his bracelet and handing it to Trucy, watching as she carefully slid it on. He rubbed his now bare wrist absentmindedly, feeling strangely naked without it.

“So... this is really it. We’re really doing this.”

“We’re really doing this,” Trucy confirmed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. For all her apparent enthusiasm, she looked as nervous as he felt. The studs in her ears reflected the morning light.

“Give papa a hug for me,” he said, smiling weakly.

“Give daddy one for me too,” she said.

They hesitated a moment more before Trucy threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders. Apollo’s arms immediately snaked around her waist, drawing her in tight. They clung to each other, silently willing and praying this was somehow going to all work out - that they wouldn’t just to get to meet their other parent, that they wouldn’t only get a few short weeks with the other father they hadn’t even known had existed, but that they could find some way to reconcile the two, that they wouldn’t have to lose anyone across the wide expanse of the Atlantic ever again.

“You’ve had your ears pierced,” he said almost absently, cradling her head between his hands and gently turning her neck back and forth to better view the studs. He clicked his tongue. Trucy felt her heart sink.

“Do you... hate them?” she asked tentatively.

Edgeworth’s eyes snapped to hers. They were the same soft gray color as the paint Daddy always kept too much of around the house. “On the contrary - I find they suit you incredibly well. Please tell me you didn’t get an infection.”

Her face split into a wide smile.

Apollo thumbed through a stack of canvases that had been shoved into a corner. There was a thin layer of dust of them; if he had to guess, he’d say they hadn’t been disturbed for at least three months - not a particularly long stretch of time, all things considered. They were clearly less polished works, lacking the technical skill and attention to detail that made Phoenix Wright a name to be reckoned with in the art community, but they were still beautiful in their own way. Paintings of vineyards and what looked like London, towering skyscrapers and calm seas and -

His father.

Apollo blinked.

The portrait of Miles Edgeworth drawn in rich oils did not blink back. Nor did the three that followed.

“There were a lot of paintings of the same person in daddy’s works. Some guy with grey hair,” Apollo said, struggling for nonchalance.

Maya’s grip on the mixing bowl faltered. “Is that so,” she said carefully.

“Was he one of daddy’s favorite models or something he just never told me about?”

Maya pursed her lips and continued stirring with a newfound vigor. “You could say that.”

“You’re not Apollo?” he asked, voice thick. “You’re Trucy?”

She smiled weakly. “That would be correct.” One strand of hair fell lank across her forehead - how did I not notice, Apollo hasn’t used nearly that much gel in years - and he absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear. He felt her press into the warmth of his hand, as if she were afraid he might suddenly vanish across the Atlantic again.

“I hope you don’t - I hope you don’t hate me,” she said, voice beginning to waver, “it’s just that Polly and I met at the camp and the whole thing sort of just spilled out. I’ve wanted to see you for so long, and Polly felt exactly the same way about Daddy, so we sort of just - just switched lives and hoped it wouldn’t take you so soon to notice. I really hope you don’t hate me, because I’ve wanted to meet you basically my whole life and I hope that maybe one day you can love me for me and not Polly and -” (this is ALL from movie tho so mix this up)

Edgeworth’s left hand came to cradle the rest of Trucy’s face, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Oh, my dear,” he said, cautiously tugging her forward. She came willingly, all but sprawling across his chest, tucking her head underneath his chin and wrapping her arms around his middle. “I’ve loved you since the day you came to me,” he whispered into her hair, blinking away the beginnings of tears he felt gathering at the corner of his eyes. He felt her tighten her hold and he did the same.

He poured himself a thumbnail of scotch, perfectly content to pretend he didn’t have tickets to a plane back to a state he had vowed never to set foot in again departing in less than four hours. “He was rather handsome,” he found himself admitting, absentmindedly swirling the glass and taking a sip. He paused, staring at nothing and mumbling to himself, “...had the most crooked smile. Always made me weak at the knees.”

“What was that, sir?”

Edgeworth snapped his attention back to the other man; he’d nearly forgotten Gumshoe was even in the room. “Nothing, nothing, never mind, have you seen the tickets?”

Gumshoe shrugged. That was Trucy’s cue.

“Almost ready, papa?” she asked, stepping smoothly into the room from her hiding place behind the thick wooden door. Edgeworth looked just as wild-eyed as she’d been hoping.

“Yes, of course, I’m almost finished packing -”

She didn’t even have to look at his still mostly bare suitcase to know he was lying.

“ -and you did tell your father we were coming, didn’t you?” he finished, placing his drink on a nearby dresser and running his fingers shakily through his hair.

“Absolutely,” Trucy promised.

“Ah,” Edgeworth said, fiddling with his waistcoat buttons. They looked like they’d been polished recently.

“Liar,” Gumshoe leaned down to whisper. She shushed him.

“Might I suggest we continue this little gathering inside,” Maya said, already beginning to shepherd the twins - the twins, she was going to need another vacation just to process the fact that they were together again - into the room. She twisted back around to look at Edgeworth, still shoving Apollo (that was Apollo, right?) forward. “Hi,” she began again, offering a free hand, “you probably don’t remember me -”

“Maya!” he interrupted, smiling warmly and bending to kiss her chastely on the cheek. His breath was sour with vodka and his glasses clunked awkwardly against her face. As he turned and stepped fully into the room, Maya’s cheeks(rp) began to hurt from smiling so fiercely.

“I knew I always liked him,” she said to no one as she closed the door.

This was ridiculous. This resort was full of entirely too many people who favored the same sort of eccentric clothing that man had even fourteen years ago, a disproportionate amount of them with the same slate grey hair. He almost would have written that (awkward*) expression seen from across Dahlia’s shoulder/a hotel lobby as a figment of his overtaxed imagination had it not been so much realer than the stacks of canvases in his studio. Which meant Miles was here, but he’d swept the first level of the hotel twice already after begging Dahlia to take to her room for a bit, the pool area was as depressingly empty as the inside was, and -

There he was.

Across the pool, descending the steps carefully from the inside lounge area and walking on the balls of his feet like he always did when he’d had a bit too much to drink (and why did he still remember that) was, without a doubt, Miles Edgeworth.

Phoenix suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Edgeworth was halfway down the opposite path before Phoenix realized he should probably do something.

“Excuse me,” he said, shouldering his way through the crowd. It would be rude and more than a little intrusive to just call out his ex-husband’s name in the middle of a resort, right? Perhaps not as rude as nearly shoving the poor bellboy into the shrubbery, but, well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

He didn’t immediately notice the odd assortment of friends and family and a lumbering man in striped green swimming trunks perched on pool chairs as he stepped past, but they certainly noticed him.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Trucy asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said vaguely, refusing to take his eyes off Edgeworth. He was abruptly terrified he might vanish again if he did.

“Nick, watch out -”

“Hey, pal -”

“Daddy -”

With that, Phoenix collided into a passing service boy, arms pinwheeling wildly as he fell directly into the pool behind him.

“Hello Miles,” he said, smiling sheepishly and wringing out his tie. He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck and settled for clenching his hands into tight fists instead. “Or do you people call you Edgeworth now?”

“Miles is - Miles is fine,” Edgeworth said weakly, trying to look anywhere but Phoenix, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they should be having for the first time after fifteen years. “My father still calls me Miles.”

Something warm coiled in his chest. It felt infinitely more dangerous than it had fifteen years ago.

“You always had a smart mouth,” he murmured, rubbing a swathe of cleaning ointment along the cut on Phoenix’s forehead. Phoenix hissed.

“So glad you remembered,” he bit through gritted teeth.

“Hush.”

Phoenix hmmed but stayed silent for a few more seconds, staring at Edgeworth as he dug back into the first aid kit. Edgeworth tried not to flush under the scrutiny.

Phoenix held his wrist in a loose grip. He should have felt clammy from the pool and the rapidly descending night, but he blazed oddly hot against Edgeworth’s skin.

“Miles, I-”

“Feenie? Who is this?”

“Dollie!” Phoenix said, shooting upright and wincing at the sudden dizziness.

Edgeworth’s burgundy coat was hung carefully over his arm, too thick for the warm California night. The buttons on his waistcoat glinted from a nearby streetlamp’s glow.

Phoenix swallowed.

“Do you have any idea where they’re taking us?” Edgeworth asked, leaning in slightly. Phoenix’s (nose twitched? something about scent memory?) and he refused to let himself acknowledge that Miles’s choice of aftershave hadn’t changed since the day they’d met. He abruptly remembered the taste of cheap wine and overly sweet cake on his tongue, felt the ghost weight of a ring fifteen years gone.

He hastily turned away.

“No idea.”

“Grandfather chipped in a bit -”

“Apollo,” Edgeworth warned.

“Alright, so Grandfather chipped in a lot, whatever, we’re poor teenagers, the point is,” he said, emphasizing the final word by pulling the ship’s impressive doors open with a firm tug, “it’s ours for the night.”

Phoenix whistled shrilly in appreciation, instinctively reaching out to ruffle Apollo’s hair. It was a testament to how important the night was that Apollo merely batted Phoenix’s hand away. “Seriously, dad,” he mumbled. His scowl was clearly forced, however; he felt oddly warm that he was able to finally use that word at all.

“Subtle,” Phoenix remarked.

“Mm,” Edgeworth agreed. “I don’t suppose we should let their efforts, however misguided they may be, go to waste, should we?”

“You just want to know who else they roped into this ridiculous scheme of theirs.”

“Oh, because you don’t.”

“I,” Phoenix said, moving to the chilled champagne propped by the windowsill and popping its cork, “have a perfectly healthy level of curiosity. It does not involve wondering what’s going on in my kid’s head. Trucy is a teenager. That’s terrifying.” He carefully poured the sparkling drink into two glasses and offered one to Edgeworth.

“I find that somewhat difficult to believe,” Edgeworth said, striding forward and taking the proffered glass. He made certain their fingers did not brush. “Thank you.”

They waited until she had hastily bowed out of the room before turning their focus back to each other. “Miles, that’s why we came up with this arrangement in the first place,” Phoenix continued, nonplussed.

“Really?” Edgeworth carefully picked up his glass flute, trying to ignore the tremor he felt running through his hands. “I thought it was because we’d agreed to never see each other again.”

Phoenix’s heart clenched. “Not ‘we’, Miles,” he said slowly, spreading his hands on the tablecloth and feeling like if he missed a step here, he would risk something he couldn’t afford to lose again.

Edgeworth took a shaky draw of wine. “You know,” he said slowly, seemingly forcing himself to meet Phoenix’s eyes, “that part is unclear to me as well.”

“Oh, you don’t remember the day you packed?” Phoenix asked.

“No, I remember that day perfectly. Did I hurt you when I threw that - oh God, what was it -”

“It was Kamisar’s Modern Criminal Procedure. It left a dent in the wall from where it rebounded off my head.”

“Oh,” Edgeworth said, at least having the grace to look properly abashed. “Right. Sorry.”

Phoenix shrugged. “It’s not like I was making it that easy on you.

And....” Edgeworth trailed off, twisting a napkin between his fingers. “You didn’t chase after me.”

Phoenix felt (something) shift. “I didn’t know that you wanted me to.”

“A toast to -”

“Our children,” Edgeworth cut in. He ignored the tightening in his chest at the our.

“Our children,” Phoenix repeated slowly, as if the words didn’t quite match with what his mouth had wanted to say.

“We both got where we actually wanted to go.”

Phoenix’s eyes never wavered from his. “We did,” he said, voice strange.

They toasted again and finished their meal in silence.

“Apollo, what are you doing in those clothes? We’ve got a plane to catch.”

“We’re getting totally ripped off,” maybe-Trucy said. “Daddy said we’d get our camping trip and we want to go.”

“Wait, hang on,” Phoenix interrupted, “what camping trip?”

“The one Aunt Maya and I make you take us on every year before school starts,” almost-definitely-Trucy said. Phoenix began to lift his finger in triumph, sure he’d found his kid -

“ -the one behind the house that runs all the way up to Gourd Lake, remember when you fell in that one year,” I’m-not-too-sure-if-this-one-is-still-in-fact-Apollo finished.

Phoenix’s arm fell listlessly to his side. Edgeworth snorted.

Phoenix shot Edgeworth a look. Thanks for helping, one of these is yours. “This is entirely unfunny, you’re going to make your father miss his flight,” he said, shifting his attention back to the twins. Honestly, he was an Ivy University graduate and Miles was a world renowned defense attorney, how were they being duped by their own kids -

“Apollo -” Edgeworth began.

“Yes?” they both said in unison.

Edgeworth groaned. “They get this from you, I’m sure,” he said.

“It’s not my fault you’ve apparently been raising a devilishly deceptive teenager,” Phoenix quipped back, never taking his eyes off the twins. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine pound at the base of his neck. “He’s probably rubbed off on Trucy.”

The twins grinned.

Phoenix rubbed a hand over his eyes before stooping to their height once again. He stared hard at each of them, looking back and forth between their faces. “This one’s Trucy,” he said slowly, pointing a finger to the sibling in orange. “I’m positive.”

“You know, I hope you’re right, Daddy. You wouldn’t want to send the wrong kid all the way back to Germany - ”

“ - would you?”

How was any of this fair?

“Here’s our proposition. We go back to Daddy’s house, pack our stuff, and the four of us leave on the camping trip.”

“The four of us?” Edgeworth interjected. They ignored him.

“And when you bring us back,” maybe-Trucy-maybe-Apollo continued, “we’ll tell you who’s Trucy and who’s Apollo.”

“Or,” Edgeworth said, carefully stepping around and in front of Phoenix and crossing his arms firmly across his chest, tapping his finger rhythmically against his arm, “new plan. I take one of you back to Germany with me whether you like it or not.”

Two identical sets of eyes twinkled back at him.

(He felt a migraine beginning to pound in his left temple.)

“You can cook now?” Edgeworth asked.

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix said. “I can make pasta. And pasta. Probably more pasta, if you ask really nicely.”

“Hm,” Edgeworth said, eyebrows scrunched in mock thought, “pasta sounds good.”

Phoenix grinned, bumping Edgeworth’s shoulder. He was warm through the cotton. “Pasta it is.”

Edgeworth looked across the seat at Apollo. His glassy eyes reflected the flickering street lamps as the taxi sped down the empty street.

“Apollo, I -” he began, deflating as Apollo turned further away. It’s entirely justified, he thought despondently. I’d hate myself as well.

“Grandfather?” Apollo called, shrugging out of his heavy jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. The house was silent.

“I’ll check the study,” Edgeworth said, tugging his jabot loose. Apollo nodded and headed towards the direction of the kitchen, toeing off his shoes on the way. Pushing open the wide doors that led to the study, Edgeworth saw someone reading a paper at the desk. He cocked his hip against the door and crossed his arms. “Hello, father. We’re back.”

The newspaper lowered. It wasn’t Gregory.

“Hiya, papa,” Trucy said. The corners of her mouth were quirked despite her obvious attempts to reign in her expression. “Did you know the Concord gets you here in half the time?”

Edgeworth slipped against the doorframe. He felt the knob dig into his hip. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”

(Edgeworth was acutely aware of the doorknob digging into his hip from when he pressed against it. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”)

Apollo walked into the room, drawn to the sound of voices. When he saw Trucy his face split into a blinding grin. “What are you doing here?”

Trucy neatly folded the newspaper on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “It took us about thirty seconds after you left that we decided we didn’t want to lose you two again,” she said, eyes crinkling.

Edgeworth swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “We?” he said, voice cracking.

“We,” a new voice agreed.

From the corner of his eye, Edgeworth noted Trucy moving to stand by the far wall of the study, giving the vaguest attempt of privacy. It didn’t matter. His eyes were trained on Phoenix, tracking his movement as he crossed the room.

Phoenix peppered his face in light kisses, smiling into the curve of his throat and pressing his lips to the thrumming heartbeat beneath his skin.

They eventually pulled back, desperate for air. Phoenix’s eyes crinkled - crow’s feet, Edgeworth thought wildly through his haze, he’s got crow’s feet now, I haven’t seen him this close up since - and he rested his forehead against Edgeworth’s.

“God, I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered, hands snaking around the other man’s back to pull him even closer.

“You want to toast with this? I’d have thought you might want to upgrade to something with a little more class.”

Phoenix smiled sloppily, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. “You’re the only one I said I’d drink it with, remember?”

Edgeworth smiled back. He took the proffered bottle warmed by the weather and tugged his husband into a proper kiss, matching rings glinting in the dying sunlight.

#bluefaewren #replies #parent trap au #attempting to write tag

138 notes · View notes

jujutsu-headcanons · 3 years

Text

Gojo Satoru general headcanons

Let's get one thing clear: this man is absolutely chaotic. He is always full of energy. His energy levels never reach below 50%. He is loud and proud, always running, and never takes a minute to relax.

Do not give him Monster. Shoko did that once and it took her forever to get him off the ceiling. Also, avoid caffeine. Shoko replaces his normal coffee with decaf and he still hasn't noticed the difference. Keep it that way.

He was the class clown when he was younger. He wasn't exactly a trouble maker, but he may as well be. I cannot word that sentence and I am sorry. Next.

All of his teachers assumed he never listened in class, so they always called in him when they thought he wasn't paying attention. It still shocked them every time he rattled off the correct answer.

Not only did he answer the question correctly, but he could also explain his reasoning behind the answer, and if it was multiple choice, explain why the other answers were wrong.

This tall man child would march up to the board and absolutely fill it to the brim with work, turn around, drop the chalk-like a mic drop and walk back to his desk with the smuggest look on his face.

That doesn't mean he did the work tho

Idk how schools in japan work but we all know schools in America only care about the amount of work you do and not what you actually know so we'll use that for the sake of the headcanon: he had straight D's bc he never turned in his work

Despite not doing the work snd goofing off, teachers actually really liked him

A lot of people liked him and he was super popular, but he still felt alone

Fake friends, you know how that works, he didn't meet any real friends until he became a shaman

Clean freak. This dude actually makes his bed. He scrubs his bathroom twice a week. His desk can get cluttered but he straightens up once a week. He's not exactly a germaphobe because

He cannot respect your personal space and that's actually canon but let me take it a step further

He's a slapper. Especially when he laughs. It doesn't hurt, it's playful dw. He hugs you from behind especially when he's cold. He picks you up and carries you around. He will grab your wrist, arm, or hand and lead you around even if you're following him. He lays his legs across you or lays across your lap. Puts his head on your shoulder. Platonic cuddling between friends is mandatory. He's just so hands-on it's ridiculous.

Unless you explicitly tell him you're uncomfortable he won't stop

Don't worry, if you aren't in that type of relationship, your no-no square is safe. Except, if you seem chill, he will slap your ass regardless of friendship status. His ass is also slappable. You can't tell me Geto and Gojo didn't run around slapping each other asses, okay

He was weird and scrawny as a child. He didn't start beefing out until he started training to be a shaman and he's still kinda smaller than most beefy boys

He can pick you up and throw you around easily. He carried around a 170 pound Yuji like a sack of potatoes and can easily carry around three times that weight

It's amazing he's so tiny because you remember 2014 Shane Dawson making all of those wack ass desserts that was just s pile of chaos wrapped in chocolate?

He can eat every last bite of one of those monstrosities without getting a stomach ache, gaining weight, or dying basically

He knows bc Yuji dared him to do it

He has really cold hands and feet

He sounds old. Let me elaborate. He's constantly cracking his joints. They also creak when he moves. He complains about body pains like he's 80 y/o

He also shares wisdom with the kids as if he's actually 80 y/o

It's irrelevant advice that doesn't make sense but is also useful. Megumi can't count the number of times he's asked Gojo for feedback on his technique but had been told to remember to chew 40 times or never go to bed angry

Starts off sentences with "now son" and "when I was your age"

He uses his blindfold as a headband when he wants his hair out of his face. He also uses headbands as... Headbands... When he wants to wear sunglasses but get his hair out of his face

He owns so many pairs of sunglasses but he always wears the same pair

He's only bought a handful of them himself, most of them are gifts

No one knows what to get him for Christmas or his birthday bc he has everything, so they resort to sunglasses

His favorite pair is a pair that Shoko and Geto bought him as a gag. He thought they were dead serious, though, so he wore them around for a month

They were heart-shaped, rose-tinted glasses

Can you believe this man doesn't use any gel or anything to keep his hair spiky with the blindfold on? It just naturally defies gravity when the blindfold is on

Tell this man he's pretty because he already knows. He's narcissistic but not the cringy kind

Photogenic as hell. Takes great pictures from any angle.

He gives everyone a different story as to why he covers his eyes. Sometimes he says it's because his eyes are too pretty and are a distraction. Sometimes he says it's because the sunglasses/bandages/blindfold look cooler than his eyes. Sometimes he says it's to protect the six eyes from seeing things he doesn't want to see. The world may never know

He's tried covering his whole face before, but he thinks he's too pretty for that. He at least wants one of his many amazing features to be shown at all times.

So about his driver's license;

He knows how to drive. He can be a good driver. When he wants to be. He just doesn't have a driver's license.

Now he TELLS people he just never got around to getting one, however, there's a rumor he lost it due to too many parking tickets

It's amazing the only tickets he's ever gotten have been from that and once he got caught without a seatbelt; he would have gotten out of that one if he hadn't been flirting with the police officer so bad

This doesn't stop Gojo from driving places though

He steals Ijichi's car a LOT and Ijichi DOESN'T KNOW HOW like??? The windows are never broken and it doesn't look hotwired-

Gojo has a key

You're not even supposed to be able to duplicate car keys but Gojo did

Also; none of the first-year trio knows he doesn't have a driver's license, though that much should be painfully obvious

He whips around corners, speeds up at yellow lights, goes "watch this" and does a donut, it's just a mess

The poor students have to sit in the backseat too. Just imagine Megumi with all three seatbelts around him like that one meme.

He thrives off of Nobara and Yuji screaming from the backseat, and he can see Megumi being smooshed because he thought the middle seat was the safest through the rearview mirror

Which he doesn't even need because of the six eyes

Despite being such a reckless driver, he knows when danger will happen, so he's never once gotten in a wreck

He blasts the radio, which makes up for the driving.

Has a habit of getting in a car and ending up in the McDonalds drive-thru

Steals other people's fries and keeps the fullest one for himself.

He was rebellious as a kid and teenager, but hey, at least his juvie record is sealed

He's been detained and in the back of a cop car many times, but the reason was never really bad enough for him to be arrested. Mostly he's just being mouthy. And the time he got caught spray painting on the side of a building. And that one time he and Getou hopped the fence to get into the local pool. And that other time-

It got worse after Getou wasn't around to get him out of trouble. Suddenly, breaking the rules wasn't fun anymore and he mellowed out.

Tried alcohol and cigarettes before he was legal. Decided neither was his thing, however, he did start drinking occasionally when he was legal.

He's a fucking chaotic drunk. Oh my god he's absolutely feral

Most bars in the vicinity know him by name and they sigh whenever he walks in

Shoko is his emergency contact. She hates it

Shoko has to drag drunk Gojo home at least twice a month and is not happy about it

Once she left him in an alley. He made it home okay so she guesses it's fine

Once he got so drunk he spilled beer on his sock. The thought the fastest way to dry them was by sticking them in the microwave. Forgot about it until someone asked, "Who the fuck is cooking socks???"

I feel it important he was in the break room of the local grocery store and no one knows how he got there

As he was escorted out he stole a grocery cart and rode away in it while singing Don't Threaten Me (With A Good Time) by Panic! At The Disco

He has no alcohol tolerance at all what so ever

He will literally just stare at you and giggle

It's funny he's really flirty but also doesn't seal the deal. Literally, every woman in that bar is willing to get in his bed but he declines every offer. No one knows why

Its because he respects women

He helps his students break the rules as long as they're within reason. Once night Yuji was really hungry and after having a temper tantrum he couldn't order Uber eats bc the school is supposed to be secret Gojo helped sneak him out to get food. Who needs curfew anyway.

The shirts in his closet range from like twenty bucks to the iconic rich bitch shirt the kids ruined in that one chapter we all know the one

He still wears that by the way, he calls it "art"

When he was younger, Megumi drew a picture of Gojo being eaten by his shadow dogs. Gojo found it and now it's framed in his room.

He keeps up with current trends and memes like no one's business. This is how he bonds with his kids.

Don't call him old, but also, he'll tell you to respect your elders it's a mess

He has a lot of games on his phone. You can usually find him holding his phone sideways playing some RPG game he probably spent too much money on

He did hop on the Pokemon Go hype train but after becoming overpowered he got bored

This happens to a lot of games. He pays way too much money, gets to be the strongest in the server, and gets bored

He likes games where you can kill other people's troops and likes to watch as they lose all their power

I canon him as being borderline sadistic

This is why he's Sakata Gintoki reincarnated

White hair, sweet tooth, black leather clothes, dad vibes, never takes anything seriously bc when he does he's scary as fuck, the works.

He is Sakata Gintoki

He liked Gintama growing up. He watched a lot of iconic shows as they aired. He considers himself an og

He's hella bilingual

Because he's the strongest he goes overseas for missions a lot. Because of this he speaks a lot of languages and knows a lot about international cuisine

He takes pictures of himself eating disgusting foods like snails. He never likes them but he loves the idea of Nobara gagging back in japan

Has paperwork sitting untouched on his desk from three months ago that he will not touch for at least another three months

Does the crossword puzzles in the newspaper every week

Uses humor as a coping mechanism and it honestly just became a personality

Constantly popping his joints. I'm sorry if you find this gross I too find it gross.

Probably brought home every stray animal he ever met ever until he was at least like 22 y/o

Tags: @wasabito @kittaliapenn

#jjk #jjk spoilers #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru headcanons

962 notes · View notes

queenoftheworldisdead · 3 years

Text

Cupid

Note: This is for @afriendlyblackhottie Brat and Birthday challenge. Happy Bday Month 🎉🎈🎊🎂🍰! I chose Cupid by 112. Chris art work by @nix-akimbo she is amazing here is the original.

Summery: Ransom likes a bridesmaid.

Warning: Daddy Kink, gag, oral (reader receives), sex

Groomsman Band member Ransom x Black Reader, Knives out Alternative Universe

Leaning in the archway of the reception hall you sighed watching the newlyweds dance their first dance. You didn't want to be here. Not after all the shit he put Courtney, the bride, through.

But your bestie was the kind of girl that could not function without a man in her life. He had cheated on her five times, that you knew of. You were sure there was more, but she as well as you were tired of the berating.

It was always the same. He cheated, she cried, you picked up the pieces and then when he was ready she would go back. Pathetic.

"Aw don't pout princess your day will come" your eyes rolled at the sound of his voice. You had the misfortune to be linked with Ransom, the cousin of the groom. All the other bridesmaids drooled over him, but you weren't impressed. This rich boy was looking to add to his body count so you only interacted with him only when you needed to.

Their family had paid for this whole affair. You nearly punched one of the grooms relatives when she made a remark on Courtney's color choices. They were all on your shit list.

Just ignore him. Its almost over and you will never have to see him again.

As the song ended everyone applauded while you made your way over to the open bar. Your wrist was snagged as you crossed his path. Snatching it back you looked at him as if he grew another head.

"Look you don't want to be here I don't want to be here. Let's be miserable together." He held up his hands in surrender. You were stuck on this island and you were smart enough not to fall for dumb shit so you gave yourself permission to relax.

You both took over an empty table in the back of the massive hall. Ransom disappeared for a bit, then returned with two bottles of champagne and two glasses. The bar was an open bar, but you were sure they weren't handing out bottles left and right.

"OK let's play a game to pass the time." Ransom proposed as he approached.

"Game? What kind of game?" You waited curiously. Sitting the glasses and bottles down Ransom proceeded to pop the cork on one of the bottles of Champaign.

"We both take turns pointing out people we think the other would fuck."your mouth fell open with his boldness as he spoke. "If you guess wrong you have to take a sip. Yatta yatta you get it."

"Are you just trying to get me drunk?" You squint at him playfully suspicious.

"Nah, just bored. So come on let's play."

You watched as he poured the glasses to the brim, when he handed you the bubbling glass you thanked him. Ransom moved his chair next to you, sitting shoulder to shoulder so you both were sure to have the same view of the people on the floor.

"Ladies first" he held his glass high. You clinked your glass with his signaling ‘good game’.

"What about her?" You pointed to Courtney's great aunt. The lovely woman was at least eighty-seven, you knew this would be a 'no', but why not start off with a softball.

He gave you a look that made you snort.

"Wow was that a laugh? I seriously didn't think the ice queen was capable. You didn't even smile for the wedding photos. Achievement unlocked." Ransom was full of himself.

"No one is gonna believe I got the frost queen to crack a smile." Ransom boasted.

You took a sip from your glass so you didn't have to reply. There was nothing to smile about. You didn't approve of this wedding so you weren't going to act like you were. Courtney was lucky you even agreed to be a bridesmaid.

"OK my turn." He observed the crowded floor, before finding his mark. "Glasses two o'clock."

You searched out 'Glasses' and scoped him out. Tall, put together nicely. "Yep."

"Really?" He gave you a look, that made it hard to fight back the curl of your lip.

"Yep..I have particular taste." You say casually with a shrug.

"Well all right to each his own I guess."

"My turn" you stopped for a beat then found her. " Oh what about her?" you pointed to a tall slender blonde.

"Ugh no...That's my aunt."

"Oooops....My bad... let me see who else, umm" you looked around the room, but he only looked at you.

"Oh! Oh! Her" you pointed to Stephani, a younger cousin of Courtney's. Thick thighed, uber fit college student.

"You can't go twice. Take your sip."

"What that was your aunt that cant count" you argued back.

"A no is a no" he tutted.

"Fine" you gulped from your glass and waited your turn.

"OK my turn. Hmm...What about him" he pointed to an older man that was chatting up a bridesmaid that was way to young for him.

"Eww nah not my type, but he might have gotten a yes back in the day." You tilted your head with a smirk.

"Oh thank gawd. That's my dad."

"What the fuck? Dude gross" you slapped at his shoulder and laughed. Ransom rubbed it fanning pain.

"Hey you picked my aunt" he chuckled with you.

"Yeah but I didn't know she was your aunt!"

After finishing the first bottle you started to feel loose. Ransom's arm stretched out along the back of your chair, slyly rubbing circles on your bare arm, while you leaned snuggled into his side as you both continue to people watch.

"So what do you do?" You asked him.

Ransom was silent for a moment. Taking a long swig from the glass before looking over at you and sighing.

"I'm in a band."

"Oh really, is that your little hobby you do before you take over the board seat at your grand-papa's company?" you bit back a laugh. Ransom frowned at you, but you didn't care.

You knew of the older Thrombey, the famous author and owner of a publishing house. Through rehearsal you watched the interactions between the two and you knew that Ransom was the favorite of the acclaimed writer's brood.

"I don't want anything to do with that company believe it or not. I love music always have."

"Must be nice to play in a band bankrolled by a publishing house. What are y'all called 'Blood and Rock'" you laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

"Ha wrong again. We're called 'Coffee and Roses'. And I've been cut of financially ever since I got these bad boys" Ransom shimmed out of his blazer and rolled up his sleeves. His well toned arms were completely covered in ink. When he pulled down his collar you were able to see the massive art work that encompassed his neck, you bit into your bottom lip as he allowed you to ogle him. "This art work was not board approved " he joked. The booze mixed with Ransom's rocker bod was starting to lower your inhibitions and you needed to put a stop to it.

"Your cousin is a piece of shit." You changed the subject before taking a pull from your glass.

"Yeah well he gets that from his dad, he's always been an asshole."

"Apples don't fall far do they?" You snipped. When Ransom didn't respond you looked over, he was looking at his father who had now moved on to another pretty young thing.

"He made a mistake and he is fixing it." Ransom replied, suddenly in defense of his cousin.

The mistake in question was a child, by another woman. That baby you thought would be the final straw to break the camels back.

"Diamonds don't fix problems." You didn't come from money, but you knew that this wedding was a band-aid. And once it got wet you wondered what would be the gift for the next 'mistake'.

The groom had always bought his way out of his binds. The more he fucked up the more money he poured on it. This wedding you couldn't even fathom the cost. The wedding ring alone looked like it could choke a horse. And this destination wedding on his dime made you think on what happened in the interim leading up to this event.

"You're a really good friend. She's lucky that she has someone that cares so much." You both stared into the distance at the couple. They danced and smiled at each other so happy, but you felt sick. Ransom's sweet words made you immediately suspicious of his intent, his cousin had a habit of talking sweet, but he was a fucking snake. You weren't going to end up like Courtney.

"Look don't think that just because we got all chummy that all of a sudden I am gonna want to bang one out." You hit your glass on the table harder than you meant to, it tipped over and spilled out the rest of your drink.

When a little bit of the liquid trickled off the table and hit your dress you pushed away from the table. Just a tiny bit, nothing major to fuss about, but you had hit your limit. You'd done the wedding, you took the pictures and you stuck around for the reception. It was time to go.

You weren't about to be some random rich kids one night stand. So you stormed off. Thankfully the ball room was not far from the adjoining hotel. Marching you fumed and you cursed your friend for being this dumb, yourself for not doing more to stop this and almost falling for Ransom's charm. Mashing the buttons you thought of changing your number, wiping your hands from this friendship and looking into an overnight flight back home.

How much worse would it be now that she was legally married to that douche bag. The thought of them having kids only served to further irked you.

Before the elevator door could close a hand sliced down the middle, halting the closure.

You stood stunned as Ransom appeared out of breath and in-between the open doors.

**"Baby, I'm so tired of the way you turn my words into deception and lies"**

Ransom consumed the space between you two. Your ass hit the hand rail as the doors closed.

"I am not my father, I am not my cousin. I liked you." His confession made your heart flutter.

Don't be stupid. He is the same as the rest of his family. Don't fall for his game.

His hands rested on the bar on either side of your hips as he stood toe to toe with you. You rolled your eyes and scoffed turning away from him, unable to keep staring into those eyes.

**Don't misunderstand me when I try to speak my mind I'm only saying what's in my heart**

With one finger he brought your focus back to him. You frowned at him, you weren't weak. You weren't falling for him no matter how much your body wanted to throw in the towel.

**Cupid doesn't lie** He leaned in close and you held your breath as your heart raced.

**But you won't know unless you give it a try** Ransom whispered over your lips before kissing you gently. You broke down allowing him to invade your mouth. His lips felt soft and his firm arms a welcome feeling as they wrapped around you.

The elevator dinged loudly and you pulled back. Your lipstick smeared on his mouth made for a funny sight. Looking at the number it was your floor then back at him.

**Give it a try** Ransom pleaded.

A switch flipped inside you. Angry at yourself you pushed past him and marched to your hotel room.

He is just a spoiled rich kid trying to have fun. Don't fall for it. You try and convince yourself.

He shouted as the doors closed and you tried to ignore him.

**Cupid doesn't lie**

He shouted again. You halted, but refused to look.

"All men lie" You stopped as you replied back at him. There wasn't a woman in your life that wasn't hurt and you didn't want to join that club. You wanted to protect yourself at all cost. You heard the elevator doors close so you let out a sigh of relief.

What if you were wrong. What if he was right? A nagging thought bubbled in your mind. He was fun, you felt at easy around him. Some part of you yearned for him to come back.

You were so lost in your own head that you hadn't heard him rush up behind you. Ransom quickly spun you around, his eyes boring into your soul. The sight of which made it hard to stay angry.

**"Oh baby, true love won't lie...But we won't know unless we give it a try"**

He kissed you again. This time more hungry than before, so much so it took your breath away as he pulled back.

**"Give it a try"** he pleaded yet again.

It was hard to get the door open with Ransom latched onto your face. Fumbling with the key you tried blindly several times to get the card in the slot with your back pressed hard against the door.

Frustrated Ransom snatched the card and opened the door for you.

"Thanks Daddy" you teased, looking up through your lashes at him.

"Daddy huh?" The grin that grew on his face was devilish indeed. "So that's it...You act all bratty to get Daddy to react. Huh?"

Scooping you off your feet he carried you across the threshold. You were so surprised that he was able to handle your weight with ease, as he walked you over to the bed, before tossing you.

"Keep the dress on and pull your tits out" he command as he furiously unbuttoned his shirt.

You marveled at the fit rocker. He revealed more tats as he opened his shirt. Pushing down your off the shoulder strap you yanked your top down. Your half bra going down with it, allowing your breast to bounce free.

"Stand up."

Without a word you rose to your feet.

"Turn around."

Again you followed his orders. The way he commanded you made your need soak through your panties.

"Gonna come deep in that pretty pussy, show you who you belong to" Ransom taunted into the shell of your ear. "Say ahh."

The neck tie that had long since come undone was now being wrapped around your open mouth, wrapping it quickly then knotting the fabric.

Once secure Ransom proceeded to massage your breast from behind. As he tweaked your nipples you felt his cock, hard and stiff pressed into your ass.

You pushed and rubbed against it toying with him, the hum that buzzed from his lips almost sounded primal. "Nothing but a big tease huh? Daddy's going to show you what he thinks about teases."

Pushing you over on the bed you yelped through your gag. Looking over your shoulder you watched as Ransom bunched up the fabric of your dress, tossing it over your hips to expose your ass.

Feeling cocky you twerked your ass before him, the look in his eye showed that he approved of the sight. Ransom palmed your cheeks with both his hands, kneading the soft tissue as he rubbed his erection on you.

One hand moved around your hips and on the outer-lining of your panties.

"Fuck baby girl is that all for me?" Ransom's finger pulled at the elastic that touched your bud. He felt the drenched panties and pulled them back until they snapped back in place.

"Fuck baby girl" he purred.

Ransom lowered himself onto his hunches, pulling your panties down with them. You felt his tongue lapping gently at your folds. The sensation sending shivers throughout your body.

His tongue separated your lips, you knees wanted to cave at the tantalizing feel of him. Through your gag you moaned, the slow torture of his feasting was bringing you close to the finish line.

Ransom sucked hard on your bare mound adding a finger as he rose to his feet. "You taste so sweet baby." He praised as he curled his fingers inside of you.

"Do you want to come on my cock or my fingers?" He asked as your cunt tensed around his digits. Ransom knew you were getting close and you hoped he would choose the former.

"I cant hear you" he added another digit as you begged through your gag. You wanted to feel him all of him, but there was no way to make your answer clear through the fabric.

"Well, if you are not going to answer I will pick for you."

Ransom knew what you wanted, even with your desperate mumbling. Kicking your legs father apart he then removed his fingers. You whimpered at the lack of touch, but you were also thrilled to finally get what you really wanted.

The sound of his zipper going down made you antsy. You danced on the heels of your feet with anticipation of his next move.

Ransom took his cock in one hand while he spread one of your cheeks with the other. He rubbed his cock against the deep pink within your folds.

Toying with you as you mumbled through the tie. His pre-cum mixed with your juices as he pressed his tip hard against your opening.

"Are you gonna be a good girl from me?" He teased. You furiously nodded 'yes'.

You felt the pressure of him entering you as drool seeped past your gag. "Do you belong to me?" He halted, the sudden stop drove you crazy. Again you nod and shouted 'yes' through your restraint.

"Good girl."

Ransom filled you to your core, only stopping when you sheathed him completely. You gripped the fabric of the hotel duvet, you hadn't expected him to be so big.

The slapping of flesh on flesh filled the room. His moans mixed with the sounds of your sloppy sex were enough to send you over the edge.

Ransom controlled the pace, his length undeterred by your lack of space to take him in. You cried through your gag as he sent jolts through your body. "You were made for me" he proclaimed as he snapped his hips into you.

Your mewls were muffled by the tie, but you were sure whoever was in the room next to you could still make out what was happening here.

"Fuck" he growled as he fucked you into the bed. "I'm gonna fill you up."

"Gonna make you nice and round" he slapped your ass as he thrusted. You felt your core tighten.

"Fuck Daddy I want to come on your cock!" You finally shouted as the gag finally slipped from your lips.

"Come in me Daddy!" You felt him twitch inside you at your desperate pleading.

"Oh baby girl your tempting me."

"Please!" You panted.

"Fuck" Ransom shouted as he shot his load inside you. You felt him coat you as you milked him dry.

Ransom fell on-top of you and your knees buckled, causing you both to fall forward onto the bed. Ransom moved off you, sweaty and exhausted. "Don't think that I'm done with you yet."

#Ransom x black reader #Ransom x Black!reader #Ransom x reader

171 notes · View notes

aethelflaedladyofmercia · 3 years

Text

Twelve Months - Good Omens fanfic

Happy 31st Anniversary of Good Omens! :D

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I have posted a slightly-sad, slightly-sweet Wake the Snake fic on AO3, because our demon has been napping for a whole Twelve Months, and sometimes Angel gets a little lonely!

Thank you all for another fantastic year in this fandom!

Twelve months.

Aziraphale pushed open the door to Crowley’s flat, a simple shopping bag tucked under his arm.

The lights were still off, the curtains drawn in the awful empty room he called a study. Nothing had changed.

He passed through the enormous, rotating section of wall and into the solarium. This was still bright—many of the plants flourishing despite being unattended so long, despite clearly not having enough water. A few had started flowering. They waved their branches at him as he entered, perking up eagerly.

The angel waved back, but first he peeked into Crowley’s bedroom.

He was still where Aziraphale had left him, on his last visit a month before. Bright red hair spilled across black pillows, grown into a stringy mop. Duvet pulled up to his messily-bearded chin. One hand curled up beside him on the bed.

Still asleep.

With a sigh, Aziraphale crossed over to the plants, who greeted him excitedly, unfurling their newest leaves, a few vines hanging down to brush his face.

“Hello, my lovelies. How are you all doing? Look at you, grown at least a foot since I saw you, I’m sure. And you! What beautiful pink buds. Very impressive.”

He didn’t think Crowley would approve of how he spoke to the plants, but the poor things had been so distraught on his first visit, straining to keep upright, trying to hide their yellowing leaves. So much healthier now, much happier for just a bit of attention. He picked up the watering can and gave them all a quick splash. He didn’t know how much water each needed, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“You keep it up, dears. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Picking up his shopping bag again, Aziraphale headed down the hall to the kitchen. The kettle sat on the island where he’d left it, and he quickly refilled it and set it to boil. While he waited, he pulled his latest creations from the bag: a small pumpkin spice cake from a recipe he’d been perfecting since fall, a lemon coconut cake, and a few apple cinnamon muffins.

Two plates—a muffin for each, a slice of the coconut cake for himself and the pumpkin spice for Crowley.[1] The rest went into the refrigerator, where they would never go bad or stale.

Aziraphale put the plates onto a tray, along with forks and napkins. Next he found two mugs and pulled the little tin of his second-favorite tea out of the bag just as the kettle boiled.

For himself, a teaspoon of the expertly blended leaves, steeped for exactly three minutes, resulting in a pale brown tea with a slightly spicy aroma. For Crowley, he dropped a tea bag into boiling water and let it sit until it was almost black.[2]

He carried the tray back to the solarium and selected a bright red-and-gold tulip that was nearly vibrating in its eagerness to be noticed. A moment to assure the other plants that they were still doing fabulously—particularly a self-conscious little succulent that had rather drooped over the winter but was making a fine recovery—and he once more headed into Crowley’s bedroom.

Crowley had rolled over, and now sprawled on his back, sleeping soundly. He’d apparently kicked a bit, too, as the blanket had slid down past his stomach. Aziraphale smiled as he set the tray on the chair he’d brought in some months ago and got to work.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, dear,” he started cheerfully, carefully rearranging the objects on the little bedside table. “I have a few things for you again, I hope you don’t mind.” Just enough space to slide the mug and the little plate. Perfect.

“I received a package from Tadfield again. Everyone wrote a note and then gathered them all together, really quite clever. They’re all doing well, if a bit bored.” The table was nearly overflowing with little items now, brought in by Aziraphale to cheer the place up. Framed pictures of their human friends, quarantining with their families, clustered in one corner so tightly you could hardly see them anymore.

He pulled the latest out of the shopping bag. “Anathema has started a garden,” he explained, pausing to show the photograph to Crowley’s sleeping form. It showed the witch, kneeling outside her little cottage, working on growing several rows of herbs. “I got the impression she was off to a rough start, but she hopes to send us some mint in the next package. Although Newt warned me not to expect too much, as they’d already forgotten which patch is mint and which is oregano.” He set the picture with the others, and slid the potted tulip alongside it. “I’m sure she could use some advice from you, when you’re ready to share.”

“Nnnnh.” Aziraphale spun eagerly, but no, just Crowley shifting in his sleep again, rolling onto his side.

The angel paused to pull the duvet back up to Crowley’s chin, tugging it straight and smoothing a hand down his back. In a way, his friend was nearly unrecognizable, with that hair and ridiculous beard, but in another way looked the same as ever. That was always Crowley’s way, of course, constantly changing yet somehow always the same.

He lingered, taking in the shape of that face, leaning close, lips hovering above his cheekbone—

Aziraphale pulled back, quickly digging into his bag again. “Oh! Ah, the, um, the children have been making projects for their art class. This past month was sculpture, and they sent us some. Look!” He pulled out four little figures of oven-baked clay. “Ah, young Wensleydale has made a very clever model of a train car. Brian’s is…abstract.” He turned the next a few different ways. “And Pepper’s is, ah, either a very complex symbolic representation of the Patriarchy, or…a troll, I think.” They just fit on the edge of the table, all in a line, a very mismatched tableau. The fourth, on the end, was the best, in Aziraphale’s opinion. “Adam made a little Dog, and it’s very well done, don’t you think?” The canine figure posed with one leg raised and head cocked, ready to play, but the shadow it cast was just a little too large, too ominous, for such a small creature.

With a sigh, Aziraphale shifted the row this way and that. “I sent a letter to Warlock, over in America, but haven’t heard back since Christmas. I believe they’re very busy with something. Politics. You know how it is.” When the Dowlings had left England, they’d planned to return for a visit the following summer. A global pandemic had had other ideas.

“In any case, that just leaves Tracy and Shadwell. I understand he’s decided to hate the concept of literacy this month, so no word on how his war with the squirrels is going. And Tracy has declared she will spend the summer making a fairy garden. I thought her sketches looked very promising, and she promised to send us an update in June. I’m sure you’ll find it charming.”

“Hrrrrm.” Crowley sank under the duvet, nestling down a little deeper. Aziraphale smiled, settling into the chair with his plate and mug.

“Things are loosening up again,” he explained, taking a bite of cake. Delicious, if he said so himself. Sharp and not too sweet. “People are getting vaccinated, shops opening up. It’s really a lovely breath of fresh air, at least when you’re not wearing a mask.” A long sip from his mug, then he held it, fingers tapping. “It’s been nice walking through the park again, just in time for the baby ducks. And that record shop at the corner, they’ve had some wonderful new additions. Which reminds me.”

Putting aside his mug, Aziraphale dug through the bag again and pulled out a handful of square plastic cases. “They had a whole shipment of those little records the Bentley likes. Modern music. I picked out the ones with the rudest names. I’m sure you’ll enjoy them.” He pulled out the first disc and placed it atop Crowley’s phone. The device blinked in confusion a few times, then obediently copied all the music.

“Of course, it’s not all good news.” He stacked the rest of the discs atop the phone and returned to his tea. “Reopening means the customers are coming back. Yesterday, this one individual spent almost an hour browsing the same three shelves. And then he tried to make off with one of my books.” Another long sip. “Granted, he offered to pay, but still. What sort of establishment does he think I’m running?”

Aziraphale paused, waiting for Crowley to respond, not that he ever did. The demon’s eyelids moved a little, but no more.

Sighing, Aziraphale turned to his muffin. “You know, many times in the last year, I’ve wished you were there. Particularly during reopening phases. You could have posed as a customer, and then I’d be able to tell people I was at the capacity limit. Oh, and the people who would call to try and buy my rarest books. Collectors, or so they claimed, but then they just turn around and sell to anyone for twice the price! I’m sure you’d have some biting things to say about such people.” He smiled at Crowley’s sleeping face. “I’ve missed that, and your jokes. Rather more than I expected to.”

When his plate and tea were finished, Aziraphale set them on the floor and reached again into the bag. “Now, I have been attempting to teach my computer how to use the internet. I think it’s going quite well. Adam and his friends gave me a ‘homework assignment’ to find articles on recent news events, and I made the most wonderful discovery. Did you know that humans now share their news through humorous pictures? I printed out my favorites to show you.”[3]

He flicked through a few. “Ah, to start with, a few months ago there was this American politician with amusing mittens who showed up everywhere for a few days. It was extremely droll.” He leaned closer, holding them up for Crowley to see. “Ah, a few more from America. The murder hornets arrived, though by that point everyone had forgotten them. The election became increasingly confusing, and it all ended in a parking lot. For a little while everything was ‘This-or-That Total Landscaping,’ and before that everything was cake.” He showed a few extremely clever illusions. “I did try to make my own, but couldn’t manage it without miracles, which I felt was cheating.”

Really, leaning like this was starting to strain his back. Aziraphale shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, the better to share his pictures. “Ahhh. Also for a time everyone’s calendars were stuck on ‘March.’ And then earlier this year, a group of people learned how the stock market works, but sadly not how to spell it. The whole situation seemed very much like the sort of thing you’d be involved in. And…Oh, this angel from a television show was sent to Hell for…reasons.” He glanced at the shape beside him. Crowley had curled in slightly, pressing against Aziraphale’s back. “Yes. Various reasons. And then this musician, I suppose, went on his own. Both had many people extraordinarily upset.”

The next few images would really tickle Crowley, if he could actually see them. “The biggest news is that a large ship got stuck sideways in that canal in Egypt. Stopped half the world’s shipping for a few days while they dug it out! I’m sure you would have liked that very much. Exactly your sort of trouble. The humans were all very excited.”

The final photo was another of the ship, an image Aziraphale had made himself, printing out a blank version and writing on it in felt-tip pen. The hull of the enormous ship was labeled, “An eternity putting up with the tedious bureaucracy and frequently conflicting commands of my superiors until I begin to doubt my own judgement and sanity,”[4] while the small digger working steadily beside it was “Crowley.”

Aziraphale watched the demon beside him, not really expecting a reaction, certainly not getting one. He reached over, brushing brilliant hair back from Crowley’s forehead. “I think you’d have had rather a lot of fun last year. Or perhaps you’d have been upset you could only watch from a distance. Or…”

He’d leaned much closer than he’d intended, hovering just above Crowley’s forehead.

“Well!” Aziraphale stumbled to his feet. “I suppose that’s just about everything.” He picked up the tray from where he’d rested it on the floor, starting to re-load it with everything he’d brought in. Crowley’s cake and tea sat untouched, as always, but Aziraphale wouldn’t dream of skipping them. “We’re all very optimistic for the summer. Two months and everything should be just…just tickety-boo. Perhaps we can go for that picnic soon, if…yes…”

They’d made such plans for 2020. All the things they would do now they were free. Plans, and other thoughts carried in their minds, possibilities that would play out in their own time. Not too fast, just a slow, steady exploration of everything they could be…

“Well. Pleasant as that idea is, best not to—to plan too much, as the previous year made fools of us all. I just…” He turned away from the tray and watched Crowley sleep, hands clasped before him. “I miss you terribly. And I wish…very much…”

He picked up his shopping bag. One item still inside. The same one he’d been carrying for months, trying to find the courage to bring it out.

With a shaking hand, he reached in and drew forth a soft hand-made doll. He’d spent much of the winter on it. Simple white cotton for the head and body, wooly curls for the hair, and stiff white lace for the wings. Dressed in waistcoat and bowtie made from Aziraphale’s favorite tartan.

He still wasn’t sure why he brought it. He’d stitched several little toys, particularly a lovely black-and-red serpent with gold button eyes that had watched him from the sofa since November. But this, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, this one was for Crowley.

“I, ah…” He shuffled closer, doll clutched in both hands. “I made, um…” Back to the edge of the bed, one hand fumbling across the duvet. “…thought you might like…”

Crowley’s face stood out in stark contrast to the pillow, pale skin and bright hair. Aziraphale wanted to drink it in, memorize every detail, to hold him over until next month. The curve of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. His lashes flickering as his eyes moved. His lips, pursed ever so slightly…

“Bless it, Angel, are you going to kiss me or not?”

Aziraphale gasped, pulling back from the bright gaze of slit-pupil eyes. “You—you’re awake!”

“Nnnh. Half.” Crowley shifted, head moving across the pillow, eyes threatening to shut again. “Wouldn’t miss your visit.” One hand reached out, plucked the doll from Aziraphale’s unresisting fingers. “For me?”

The angel nodded. “If…if…you like it…or I could—I could just…”

Without a word, Crowley pulled the doll under the duvet and curled up, tucking it under his chin, a faint smile on his lips.

“If you were awake you—you should have said something! I’ve been going—going off like a fool all this—oh!” Aziraphale could feel his face turning hot as he recalled a few times his tongue had been a bit too loose for propriety.

“Mmmmmh.” The golden eyes were shut again.

“Crowley?” No response. “Crowley!” Aziraphale scowled. “Anthony J. Crowley, if you’ve fallen asleep again, I swear, I’ll—”

He’d do what? The angel fumed, but what could he really threaten? To stay away? Never.

“Alright then, I suppose I’ll see you in June. I’ve had several new requests for extremely rare manuscripts and I need to go pen some responses reprimanding these vultures for their cheek. I can—”

“You can stay.”

He spun around. Crowley had one eye barely cracked open. Gently, he pulled back the duvet, showing there was just enough space for Aziraphale beside him.

“I…I couldn’t.” But he stepped forward, not back. “I have business tomorrow, things to—”

“Just tonight then.”

His fingers brushed the mattress and pulled back as if burned. “You—you don’t really mean this, you’re just talking in your sleep.”

“Nah.” Crowley settled the doll by his pillow, making space. “Why else would I give you my key?”

“I…to…water the plants?”

“They take care of themselves.” Crowley held open his arms, eyes shut once more. “I missed you, too.”

Well. What could he say to that?

Aziraphale took off his shoes and slid into bed, into Crowley's arms. They wrapped around him gently as Crowley wriggled closer. “Mmmm. Y’r softer than the doll.”

“Oh.” He’d been called soft many times, generally as a way to imply he was a failure as an angel. But just this once, it made him feel rather pleased. “Soft is good?”

“Verrrry good.” Crowley twisted a bit, trying to find a comfortable way to rest his long limbs, and finally settled curled up against Aziraphale’s chest, tucked below the angel’s chin with a leg hooked over his knees.

The angel smiled. “And you’re…you’re noodlier than a stuffed snake. Err…”

A chuckle, just a stirring of breath across his throat. “Can’t wait to hear the story behind that.” Crowley nuzzled against his shoulder with a sigh. “Good night, Angel.”

Aziraphale swept the brilliant hair back again and bent down, pressing his lips to Crowley’s forehead. A soft, gentle kiss that made his friend smile a little more broadly. “Good night, my dear.”

Crowley drifted off again, burrowing close, as the angel continued to gently tease the back of his hair. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps tomorrow's work wasn't so very urgent. Perhaps a bit of rest would do him good. And perhaps...

Well. Don't plan too much. But for the first time, Aziraphale felt a bit of optimism about the coming summer and its possibilities.

“Sleep well, Crowley.”

[1] Crowley had invented pumpkin spice, and Aziraphale assumed he must like it. In truth, Crowley despised it, and regretted every autumn how it took over the entire world. He missed apple cider season. [2] Aziraphale had suspected since the early 1950s that Crowley secretly took his tea with several lumps of sugar, but would continue to pretend he didn’t know until Crowley confessed. Considering current circumstances, that was unlikely to be any time soon. [3] Aziraphale’s fax machine, revived after over three decades of disuse, had been somewhat confused to be asked to perform any task at all, much less to print memes onto photo paper with perfectly balanced color; but like the plants and Crowley’s phone, it couldn’t stand to disappoint the angel. [4] It was possible he hadn’t quite mastered this new form of communication.

124 notes · View notes

stevetonyweekly · 3 years

Text

SteveTony Weekly - May 2

I know I say every week that I read a lot this week but I have been indulging in my favorite coping technique and so this list is ridiculously long. Twitter encouraged me. Blame them.

**Indicates my recent favs

~*~

On the inherent homoeroticism of cake decoration by welcoming_disaster (616/8K)

“She’s matchmaking, Barton,” Carol sighed.

“We,” Thor corrected, thumping himself hard in the chest, “art matchmaking.”

“Who, Cap n’ Tony?” Clint asked, his mouth full.

“Cap and Tony,” Janet confirmed, cutting herself a thin slice of egg and gently depositing it on her whole grain avocado toast, “it’s getting ridiculous.”

“Wait, I thought they were—“ Clint frowned, glancing around the room as though to confirm. Nothing but confused faces met his questioning gaze. “Huh. I really thought they were fucking.”

“And there is the crux of the issue,” Jess licked a bit of spaghetti sauce off her lip.

“Aye,” agreed Thor, “there’s rub.”

-----------

The team tries to set up Steve and Tony. Things don't go as planned.

Baby lovers like you and me (never say die) by FestiveFerret (Old Guard AU/7.5K)

The Avengers. They'd found him frozen in the ice, told him he was immortal, of all things. And with the way he'd lived through seventy years deep in the Atlantic, he found himself inclined to believe them. They'd also been very… convincing.

Without question, they integrated him into their unit - The Avengers, a secret team of unkillables seeking wrongs around the world and making them right, supported and housed by an enigmatic billionaire named Tony Stark. Their immortality, it seemed, was a secret to everyone but him.

Ready, set, bake by ChocolateCapCookie (Great British Bake Off/11k)

The Avengers are on a nationally televised baking competition, but nobody seems to have warned the producers that the Avengers, while they save the world everyday and put their loves at risk doing so, are a) insanely competitive, and b) absolutely terrible bakers. Steve Rogers, especially, has a competitive streak a mile wide, and he's determined to win this competition, but it's not easy when his only real opponent is also the man he's been in love with for years.

***To make flowers grow (in this barren heart) by SoldiersShield, KakushiMiko (Hanahaki AU/16K)

“You hide yourself away in your technology, but you are just as human as the rest of them. Your heart betrays your desire to possess.” Her gaze falls to the arc reactor, and Tony's blood runs cold in his veins.

“The Earth will reclaim what we have lost,” she says, dragging a hand over the chestplate of the armor. “It is you, and your kind-- your greed that pulls life from the soil as if it were nothing. You will reap what you have sown, Stark. The avarice in your heart will strangle the very life out of you.” Arna meets his eyes once more, a serene smile on her face as she leans forward.

“I hope he is worth dying for,” she murmurs, before digging her hand into his ribcage.

(Tony Stark falls in love with Steve Rogers. A rogue enchantress ensures he pays for it.)

Shelter from the storm by silkspectred (KidFic/5k)

Tony adopts a baby. Guess who's Majorly Fucked Up™ about it.

Keep on beating by itsallAvengers (Domestic Fluff/6K)

There were an awful lot of things Steve loved about Tony. But one thing in particular Steve could never get enough of was his heartbeat.

The good or bad thing by petreparkour (Multiverse/10k)

“It’s the metal suit,” Thor informed Steve, his normally-booming voice tinny over the SHIELD comms. “What did Stark call it—Iron Man?”

“But he’s down here,” Steve protested as the Hulk roared in Stark’s face, startling him into waking with a shout. “How could—”

“It’s damaged,” Thor reported. “But it looks different. More advanced. And he—ah. He’s carrying you, Captain.”

“Please tell me nobody kissed me,” Stark breathed out, and then Stark’s voice suddenly came over the comms, but the man lying next to him hadn’t moved.

“Guys, come on, you’re killing me here. What is it, 2012? God, I hate time travel. First, I'm fighting Thanos. Now, I have to deal with my past self and Thor's bad haircut? Oh my God, Cap, yes I hacked their comms, they’re my comms.”

Steve nearly opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t said anything when he realized that this replica of Tony Stark wasn’t speaking to him.

***The tipping point by nightwalker (Domestic Fluff/7K)

Tony has a few quirks. Steve's still trying to figure them all out.

We two, how long we were fool’d by glassessay (Soulmate AU/9K)

Steve Rogers comes into the world as unblemished as his mother. When Anthony Stark is born, his soulmark is an obvious pattern of ink across his tiny chest.

It only takes a century, two names, and a shared love of Walt Whitman for them to find each other.

The tape in the cave by betheflame (Canon Divergent/5K)

Steve had no idea what was happening.

“You think I didn’t know that?”

Tony was staring Zemo down as though the Sokovian was actual vermin - which, Steve reflected, he kind of was.

“You think that I,” Tony continued, not hiding the sneer in his voice, “Anthony Stark, who has more powerful technology in my literal fingers than most nations have, that I wouldn’t know everything possible about how my parents died? That I wouldn’t know it wasn’t an accident, that your silly little HYDRA Nazi knock-off pals are the ones who murdered them? Please, you are pathetic.”

Happy ending by Robin_tCJ (No-Powers AU/28K)

Steve is a mobile massage therapist, and Tony is a stressed billionaire. What could go wrong?

With a decent happiness by torigates (Teacher AU/16K)

Tony Stark is Iron Man. Steve Rogers isn't, and never was Captain America.

Or, the one where everything is the same except Steve is a kindergarten teacher.

Nothing left but scars by SailorChibi (MCU/6.7K) - Reread

Steve wakes up to the fact that no one ever compliments or even says thank you to Tony, and that he has fallen into the same trap of painting Tony with a specific paintbrush.

This is how he showers a very confused Tony with praise to make up for it.

Our hearts should remember and follow by frostfall (MCU/5K)

Steve hums. “I didn’t know you could play. Or sing. Don’t think I’ve heard anyone mention it before.”

Tony shrugs. “It’s one of the few things, skills, I don’t flaunt. Not something people are interested in, anyway. Not gonna sway any board members by playing fucking Für Elise for them. Sides’, there’s a high chance I wouldn’t even play. Well, maybe if you get me drunk enough and near an instrument. Then, I might reconsider.”

(After a dream leaves Tony rattled, he turns to the piano as a way to distract himself.)

Finally, you and me by pensversusswords (Multiverse/10K)

Because in every layer of time, in every conceivable dimension, he was always meant to love Steve.

By some miracle, Steve was meant to love him back.

***Full disclosure not required (but appreciated) by Potrix (Identity Porn/16k)

The one where Steve knows more than he lets on, Tony knows less than he pretends, Clint has a big mouth, Bucky is a little shit, and everyone learns why keeping secrets never ends well.

Almost never, anyway.

Heartlines by nanasekei (MCU/7.9K)

“Let me,” Tony repeats. He regrets it deeply, so much, he wants to stick the words back into his mouth again, and it must show, in the way his voice wavers. He feels exposed, all of a sudden, as if he’s asking something bigger than what he can actually say. Let me touch you, let me take care of you. “Just… Let me do it.”

i found a way to let you in, but i never really had a doubt (marriage series) by quidhitch (Marriage Series/16k)

Tony Stark doesn’t believe in marriage. It’s nobody’s fault. —Well, it’s Howard's fault, probably, but Tony doesn’t like to think about that for too long, finds that it dredges up all sorts of issues he’d rather keep buried under a mountain of strategically employed sarcasm, humorous self-deprecation, and the occasionally effective substance abuse.

***Hide your love away by sineala (Soulmate/33K) - Reread

Tony has suspected for a long time that the soulmark on his chest matches Steve's -- but he's never told Steve about it. And then it's too late to tell Steve anything at all ever again. In the wake of Steve's death, the Skrull invasion, and Norman Osborn's rise to power, the identity of his soulmate is just one of the many things Tony cuts out of his memory forever.

When Tony returns to consciousness, he's forced to deal with the aftermath of a war he no longer remembers fighting, not to mention a Steve Rogers who can barely stand to be in the same room with him. Surely the last thing Tony could ever need in his life is more amnesia. But that's what he gets. And Tony's new missing memory just might be the key to finding out the truth of his soulmark... as well as his chance to make things right once and for all.

Break the chain (can’t live in circles again) by orphan_account (FWB/19K)

There had been seven amazing weeks of dating Steve Rogers before Tony realised that they weren’t dating at all. And then it was a scramble to adjust to the situation as it had always been: being Steve’s friend-with-benefits.

And if Steve seemed a little confused and bewildered by the way Tony was acting, well. Tony was probably just misreading that, too.

Five times steve and tony (tried to) bail each other out of jail by Teyke (MCU/6k)

Twice before Civil War, twice after, and once during. For very loose definitions of both 'bail' and 'jail'.

Cracked hearts under iron ribs by XtaticPearl (Established Relationship/14k)

Rhodey is away for almost six months now and comes to meet Tony after the mission. He doesn't understand the domesticity of the whole Tower and unknowingly sets off a whole truck of insecurities which make Tony crawl back into being a Stark instead of just Tony. The team is not at all happy and Rhodey joins them in trying to figure out a way to help their resident genius feel better in his skin.

The single biggest problem with communication by BlossomsintheMist (616/108K)

In the wake of Steve's return from the dead and the end of Norman Osborn's reign of terror, the superhero community is recovering--Steve has taken on a new role and Tony is trying to put his life back together. Things are still awkward between them, but they're determined to put things to rights. But when a discussion about their feelings leads to further misunderstandings, they discover that might be more difficult than either of them realized. Set in the early Heroic Age after the end of Dark Reign, this is a get-together story about crossed wires--and second chances.

What are friends for? by bobertsmallismydad (MCU /2.8K)

In which Steve is targeted by a virus. Will the Avengers be able to save him in time?

Starving by festiveferret (Vampire AU/2K)

Steve woke up starving.

***Everybody wonders (What it would be like to love you) by SoldiersShield (MCU/3K)

“...Is that what this is about?” He asks slowly. Steve blanches.

“Oh my god. It is.” Tony has no right looking as giddy as he does. “Steven Grant Rogers, are you jealous?”

Or: Steve and Tony have been dancing around each other for a while now, and Steve's rather content with it. Attending a gala together just might change that.

Re(A)d all over by brandnewfashion, MusicalLuna (Drunk Flirting/3k)

Contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark can blush.

It just takes Steve getting drunk on some magical Asgardian mead for it to finally happen.

***The Do-over Proposal by nightwalker (Established Relationship/1.2k)

Steve wants to go on a journey, Tony doesn't think it's a good time, and Bucky needs to beat some sense into both these idiots.

A Winter’s Ball by alliejowrites (Victorian AU/3.8K)

Steve moves to London in search of a patron, so that he can finally devote himself to painting. He is not expecting everything he finds upon meeting Lord Stark. A fluffy little Victorian AU. One-shot.

What’s a fanfic by starksnack (AvAc/1K)

Kamala introduces Tony and Steve to the world of fanfiction. There is a surprising amount of content about them being gay.

#stony #superhusbands #stevetony fic #stevetony weekly #stevetony #fic recs #steve rogers #tony stark #iron man #captain ameria

120 notes · View notes

catxsnow · 4 years

Text

IMPERFECT MORNINGS J.T.

Request: delivering on the more jason todd requests!! where it's the morning after and they're both in each other's arms and enjoying this moment of peace together and they're both so happy and domestic, then the moods broken by one of the batboys barging in and ruining the mood in a funny aww we ❤️ inlaws type a way.

Warning: fluff

A/N: Done my last exam for the Summer! now it’s vacation time :)

Mood board

Word count: 1.5k

Jason Todd was always filled with surprises.

When you first met him, you thought him to be some hardass player who didn't care. The more that you got to know him, the more you realized he wasn't like that at all. Jason was extremely thoughtful and caring, he enjoyed the small moments in life and he certainly wasn't the asshole you thought him to be.

Jason loved literature. He loved reading the classics like Dickens and he was always quick to give him opinion about the books. Art work was always hung up on his walls, different styles that you would have never expected him to like. Jason loved to cook for you and be romantic on evenings alone.

He was nothing like you expected.

Jason had a warm heart and and bright smile - when he decide to show it. You were the one that saw it the most. He rarely ever showed anything aside from a scowl with his family. Even with Roy and Kori he didn't particularly show it off. You were the exception that got see his soft side, and you loved it.

Early weekend mornings were the times you got to see him most relaxed. Jason would sprawl out in your bed, thinking to himself, reading a book, or watching whatever shitty television show was on. It was his time to collect himself from his crazy life, and he was always happy to have you by his side.

That morning, he picked up a book that hadn't been read in weeks, and continued with it. He sat up right, the hem of the blanket just barely covering his naked bottom half. You laid on your side, watching him with the utmost admiration as his eyes glazed over every word.

"You're so handsome," you suddenly spoke. Jason gained an amused smirk before he set his book down on his nightstand. He slid down his pillow until he was finally laying level with you. "You didn't have to stop reading, I just wanted to tell you that."

"When my beautiful, naked, partner, tells me I'm handsome, I'm not gonna ignore them," Jason informed. Your noses were only inches apart and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheeks. He reached out and pushed the loose hairs away from your face and kept his palm against your cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, more, Jay," You told him. Jason leaned enough just enough to peck your lips. He wanted these moments to last centuries. He was tired of having to fight for them, they shouldn't have to be a luxury for either of you. It isn't fair to withhold mundane things like laying in bed, but that's just his life. You knew what you were signing up for.

Jason was the most important person in your life. He had gotten you through so many tough times in your life. Red Hood might have been some what of a nuisance to the city, but he was your own personal hero. No matter the kind of trouble you were in, he was always going to be there to save you.

"What are you making me for breakfast?" You ask. The corners of your lips turned up at his faux shocked reaction. Jason always made you breakfast, and yet he always liked to joke that it was your turn this time. He never let you have your turn, no way was he going to let you stop him from spoiling you.

Jason didn't answer your question, but instead, tackled you into a hug. He warped his whole body around you so your face was against his chest and his arms wrapped around you. If you were safe in his arms, then he never had anything to worry about. Keep you safe was always his priority.

You wanted to ask when he was leaving again. Time with Jason always seemed short lasted. You never got enough of him, but you knew that he had his own responsibilities that he had to maintain. You decided against the idea, there was no point in spoiling your time with him now.

"You're the most perfect person I could ever imagine," Jason kissed the top of your head. You squeezed him a little tighter in response. "I can't imagine my life without you."

"Mmm, I love when you're in a sappy mood like this," you teased. Jason let you out of his hold so you could be eye level with him once more. He had a ridiculously happy smile on his face that wouldn't go away while looking at you - which only proved your point even more. "Makes me feel all special inside."

"I thought I made you feel pretty special last night," Jason retaliated. He dragged his hand down the side of your body until landing just barely on your ass. You rolled your eyes at him, but didn't disagree. “Every think about what life would be like if I gave up being the Red Hood?”

“Every day,” you admitted. It was hard seeing him run off to some sort of battle and unsure if he was going to make it back. As much as you loved him, you wanted stability. “But it’s something that I would never ask of you. Saving people means to much to you, I know that.”

“One day,” Jason began. He paused to kiss your lips, lingering there for not long enough. He glanced up from your pleading lips to your eyes that held so much adoration for him. Adoration that he sometimes didn’t believe he deserved. “One day, having a family with you is going to mean more than anything.”

“I look forward to that day, my love,” You smiled. Jason kissed you once more, pulling you closer, twinging your legs together. It was true, having a family with you was what drove him to be better every day. It was what drove him to get home every night.

Being with you, it was more love than he could ever ask for.

"Todd. (L/N)."

You nearly jumped at the sound of Damian's voice. He was standing in the door way of your room with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't look pleased to there, nor the fact that both of you were naked still, even with the sheets covering you. Jason flipped around to face the door, and who was intruding on his time alone with you.

Damian was dressed in his civilian clothes and with his hair slicked back like this father. Bruce was always difficult to get along with, Jason's opinions on the man weighed to heavily for you. Damian, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy your presence quite a lot.

"How the fuck did you get in?" Jason asked. He made sure that security in your home was top of the notch, there was no way he was going to let something happen to you when he was gone. Jason looked between Damian and you, then proceeded to pull the blankets up higher on you.

"I gave him a key," You sighed, regretting your decision. Jason gave you a questioning look. "He broke my door! Twice! I was tired of having to pay for new ones."

"Why are you here, twerp," Jason reluctantly asked. The last thing he wanted was his morning with you to be ruined with the likes of his family. Especially Damian. Under the blanket, you grabbed his hand, hoping that he wouldn't do anything rash against the younger boy. You knew how irritating Damian could get.

"You're not answering your phone, any of them," Damian scoffed. He took another step into the room until noticing the clothes thrown on the floor. It took him a second to realize that both of you were in fact naked. Damian made a face and stepped back to his original place. "Father needs you."

"Yeah, well, I'm busy," Jason snapped.

"And I don't care," Damian narrowed his eyes. "Get up."

Damian slammed your bedroom door shut as he left your room. You and Jason both plopped back against your pillows. Jason rubbed a hand down his face in frustration. If Bruce was asking for his help, then it was obviously important. He never called otherwise.

Before Jason could even think about getting up, you hooked your leg over his and cuddled into his chest. He leaned down just enough to kiss you once more, prolonging it for as long as he possibly could. He didn't want to get up just to leave you, he does that enough as it is, this was supposed to be your time.

"I hate him," Jason muttered between several more kisses. Your hand resting on his chest glided up to his face, tracing the small scars that hadn't fully healed. Upon reaching one of the older, more emotional ones, he grabbed your hand and placed it flat against his cheek. "Forgive me? For leaving?"

"Always."

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #dc imagine #dc one shot #dc #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam one shot

789 notes · View notes

grailfinders · 3 years

Text

Fate and Phantasms #209

Today on Fate and Phantasms, it's time to get Gudaguda once more! With us today is Okita Souji (Alter) in her special one-time-only appearance! (just kidding, could you imagine DW not capitalizing on a servant as much as possible? ridiculous)

Anyway, oki is a Kensei Monk for an infinite sword, and a Horizon Walker ranger so she can specialize in taking down the servants of this holy grail war.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: All we gotta do is stick every swordfighting style ever made into one build. Easy peasy.

Race and Background

Okita was a human, but her spirit origin's been messed with by the counter force to make things a little bit spicier, so now she's a Custom Lineage. This gives her +2 Dexterity, a medium build, Darkvision just to dunk on Original Flavor Okita some more, and the Mobile feat for an extra 10' of movement speed and the ability to shut down an enemy's opportunity attacks by attacking them.

This Okita's background is tough to crack, mostly because she doesn't have one, so I settled on Far Traveler like her counterforce senpai. She gets Insight and Perception proficiencies.

Ability Scores

First up, your Dexterity has to be top notch. You're everything good about Okita bumped to the nth degree, so you're going to be just as fast as she is. After that is Wisdom. You have to pick your target out from an endless void hellscape, so that's a pretty solid perception you need there. Switching things up, your third highest ability should be Constitution. If you're going to fight heroic spirits, you've got to be able to take some hits. At least until your expiration date, anyway. Your Charisma also isn't that bad, you're popular enough to get a swimsuit version, and also that sword is probably a warlock thing. We don't really need Strength, so that can be pretty low, but we're dumping Intelligence. You were, in fact, born yesterday.

Class Levels

Ranger 1: We're starting as a ranger for the extra health and a skill, but feel free to go with monk first, it won't matter too much in the end. Starting off gets you proficiency in Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as Athletics, Investigation, and Survival. Tokyo's more of an urban jungle, but there's still plenty of apex predators running around, so it more than counts. You're also a Deft Explorer which makes you Canny at insight checks, doubling your proficiency bonus. Like, 90% of a servant fight is just figuring out their true name, and that's probably some kind of insight check, right? To make it even easier, make Humans and Aasimar your Favored Enemies, giving you advantage on checks to track and recall info about them.

Monk 1: Bouncing over to monk gets you Unarmored Defense, giving you an AC of 10 plus your wisdom and dexterity modifiers while unarmored. Now your outfits can run the whole gamut of your ascensions! Sticking with the early ascensions is probably better though, because then you have access to your Martial Arts, letting you attack with an unarmed attack as a bonus action after making an unarmed or monk weapon attack with your action. Rengoku isn't a monk weapon yet, but we'll fix that soon enough. For now, feel free to stick with a short sword. Also, monk weapon attacks can be made with your dexterity or strength, and they always do at least 1d4 damage, and that grows as you level up.

Monk 2: Okay, we fixed it. Second level monks can turn one weapon they're proficient with into a Dedicated Weapon. As long as it isn't two-handed, you can make it a monk weapon over a short rest. Rengoku is a longsword, and versatile weapons are a-ok! You also get ki points to dash, disengage, attack twice, or dodge as a bonus action Monk Level times per short rest. On top of all that, you get Unarmored Movement, bumping your speed up even further while not in armor.

Monk 3: At third level, you can Deflect Missiles as a reaction, reducing incoming damage and even getting a chance to throw the arrow back with a ki point. Let's see those archers mess with you now! You also become a Kensei monk, teaching you the Path of the Kensei. This is really four different bonuses in one: You can turn two weapons into Kensei Weapons, turning Rengoku and... idk, a sling I guess, into monk weapons. You can also perform an agile parry while holding a melee kensei weapon, giving you +2 AC each time you make an unarmed attack in your action. The Kensei's Shot makes your ranged weapons marginally more deadly, adding 1d4 to their damage for the turn by spending your bonus action. Finally, Way of the Brush gives you calligraphy proficiency. Truly, Okitalter is a god amongst Okitas. (You do get more weapons later, but we only need Rengoku.)

Ranger 2: Bouncing back to ranger nets you a Fighting Style. Most of them don't affect you since Rengoku is a bigger weapon than most rangers use, but you can get Blind Fighting for blindsense out to 10'. Servants fight faster than the eye can see, so why bother trying to see them? You also get Spells that you can cast with your Wisdom. Pick up Hunter's Mark and Searing Smite to make your sword scarier. They both make your weapon deal extra damage, but the former gives you advantage on tracking them, and deals a little extra damage each attack, while the latter deals damage in one attack, then again at the start of the enemy's turn for up to a minute. Hunter's Mark is almost certainly the better option in general, but sometimes you need to dump damage into a single attack.

Ranger 6: At third level of rangering, you become a Horizon Walker. This gives you the ability to Detect Portals once per short rest, leading you to the closest planar portal within 1 mile of you. Most of the servants are already going to be set up when you arrive, but technically the grail is a portal to the root, so at least you can track that. More importantly, you're also a Planar Warrior, so Rengoku can do that cool black light technique. Use a bonus action to call out a specific creature, and the next time you hit it all the damage you hit it with will be force damage. Also, you'll deal a little extra for your trouble. On top of that, you get more spells! Zephyr Strike gives you even lighter steps, so you completely ignore all opportunity attacks. Also, once before the spell ends you can end the spell early, dealing extra damage and speeding you up by 30' for the turn. And since you're a Horizon Walker, you get Protection from Evil and Good. Most servants are either backed by a god or some kind of demon, so this might help out against them.

Monk 4: Bouncing back to monk again for your first Ability Score Improvement. Round up your dexterity and constitution for a better AC, better weaponry, and more HP. You can also Slow Fall as a reaction to reduce falling damage. If you're going to be one of Guda's servants you'd better be ready to fall from orbit on the regular.

Monk 5: Fifth level monks get an Extra Attack, so you can attack twice per action. You can also turn those attacks into Stunning Strikes, spending a ki point to force a constituiton save, which if failed stuns the target for a round. Advantage on attacks is good, especially for you. Also, your martial arts die is a d6 now.

Monk 6: At sixth level, monks get Ki-Empowered Strikes, so your unarmed attacks are magic now. As a kensei monk you're also One with the Blade, so your kensei weapons are also magical, and you can make a deft strike with your ki points to deal extra damage equal to your martial arts die.

Monk 7: At seventh level, monks get Evasion, so your dexterity saves are even better. Your failed saves still protect you from half damage, and your successful saves protect you from all of it. (Note: This is specifically saves that would protect you from half damage normally. Cantrips and Disintegrate will still merk you if you fail. So don't do that.) On top of that, Stillness of Mind shuts down a couple servants by ending one effect of charming or frightening on you as an action. Poor Abby. And Medb. And Mata Hari. And Euryale. And Stheno.

Ranger 4: Back in ranger now! You get another ASI, so bump up your Wisdom for more AC and stronger spells.

Ranger 5: Fifth level rangers get nothing because extra attacks don't stack. I just lied, you get second level spells. Locate Object will help you track down servants: just lock onto their noble phantasm, they don't go anywhere without them. As a horizon walker you can also use Misty Step to go full "nothing personnel, kid" on someone, bopping yourself up to 30' away as a bonus action.

Ranger 6: For your next round of Favored Enemies, pick on Tieflings and Elves to grab as many servants as you can. You also become a Roving ranger, giving you 5' of extra movement, and a climbing and swimming speed. There's no telling where a grail war will break out, it's best to be all-terrain.

Ranger 7: Seventh level horizon walkers get an Ethereal Step, letting you hop up to that blank plane for a turn without using a spell slot once per short rest. While up there, you can move in any direction, and through objects that aren't on the plane. If you pop back inside an object, you'll take damage and get shoved into an empty spot. You can also Pass Without Trace for a +10 on your stealth checks. Despite those clacky shoes you're still light on your feet. It helps that you're not in this dimension half the time.

Ranger 8: Another ASI! Bump up your Wisdom again. More AC is good. You also get a Land's Stride, so you can move through difficult terrain easily and have advantage on saves against plants like the Entangle spell. Poor Tristan, how sad.

Ranger 9: Our last level of ranger is just enough for third level spells! Yours are Conjure Barrage for your sword beam, and Haste for more speed than even the original Okita can match. Probably. It also gives you +2 AC, and an extra attack, all at the low low cost of taking a breather when the spell ends.

Monk 8: Your last ASI, at last! Max out your Dexterity for the best sword and armor you can get.

Monk 9: At ninth level, monks get an Unarmored Movement Improvement, letting you run up walls and over water. Just get to dry land before the turn ends and you'll be fine. That Roving's coming in real handy now, huh?

Monk 10: Tenth level monks have a Purity of Body that make them immune to disease and poison. Sorry OGita...

Monk 11: Your capstone level teaches you to Sharpen the Blade spending up to 3 ki points as a bonus action to add that much to a kensei weapon's attack and damage rolls for up to a minute. You can't do this to weapons that are already +whatever, and you can't do this to two weapons at once.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

You are very good at figuring your enemies out and tracking them down, with great speed to keep on their tail, advantage to figure out where they are, and a boosted insight check to figure out what they're capable of.

That speed also makes it really hard to shake you off the trail, with more speed in one movement than most people get by dashing, the ability to walk on water, and climb up sheer surfaces. If that wasn't enough, you can even phase through objects that are getting between you and your target. Etherealness doesn't require concentration either, so you can totally be hasted while doing this for up to 390' of just completely ignoring whatever obstacles are in front of you. Have fun pissing off your DM, because you can get from the dungeon entrance to the boss room without fighting a damn thing.

Despite all of this, you're no slouch at dealing damage either, with a +14 to attacks with a sharpened blade and plenty of ways to add damage to your attacks.

Cons:

Like all rangers, you have a serious issue with concentration. Even if you keep it up, you still have to deal with being forced to choose one spell at a time, which is rough for a monk with hunter's mark.

Speaking of, there's a ton of overlap between monk and ranger and that muddies the waters a little, especially with regards to your bonus action. You get tons of stuff from being a monk already, but ranger adds smites, most of your spells, turning your sword into a lightsaber, and popping into the ethereal plane. You have way too many options, so you might freeze up when you have to pick one. Also, UMI almost totally negates the benefits of Roving, which hurts considering how few ranger features have use in the first place.

Finally, dumping intelligence might hurt you in the long run, since you need a good history check to figure servants out. This also means you might leap before you look and find yourself several hundred feet away from your party with no way to get back.

#fate grand order #fgo #D&D 5e #DND #Okita Souji alter #Ranger #Monk

34 notes · View notes

batsandbugs · 3 years

Text

Help (I Need Somebody) Help

AN:Hey everyone! Hope you’re doing well, here’s chapter two of my wrong number daminette AU. I had a lot of fun with this, enjoy!

Chapter 2

Damian held back an unimpressed sigh when two goons rushed him. Their stances were off balance, and he could smell the stench of alcohol wafting off of them. A low sweep to their legs had both tumbling to the ground. If he had a dime for every lowbrow thug who thought they had a chance at beating him, he’d be richer than his father twice over.

It wasn’t his fault the brain lacking buffoons hadn’t figured out they had a snowball’s chance in hell to beat him in the seven years he lived here. Damian certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell them different now. He needed some sort of stress relief after Alfred banned swearing in the house.

He flipped another grunt over his shoulders, an audible crack of a broken bone soon followed.

His mask hid a glint of amusement that was surely gleaming in his eyes, but he kept his face an annoyed scowl. The last thing he needed was word getting back to his father for finding pleasure in the suffering of others. Even if the whole reason they were out tonight, punching up a contingent of near brain-dead loons, was to stop a sex trafficking ring. It was times like this where he seriously considered the validity of his father’s no-killing rule; surely some scum wouldn’t be missed.

He whipped around to punch another man, nearly a foot taller than him and thrice as wide, across the face. Blood spurted from the thug’s nose as the behemoth fell to the ground. Good. Damian jumped back and flipped himself over to roundhouse kick another goon. Another satisfying crack, and the last of them had finally fallen to his superior skills.

Easy.

He waited for the warm glow of satisfaction after a fight well fought, but all he received was the familiar rush of adrenaline and the delicious burn of his muscles tensing for another go.

Unfortunately, all too easy.

Damian didn’t sigh, he was too disciplined for that, but the low-level grumbling in his mind, and the displeased sneer were all too indicative of his problem.

He was utterly unchallenged.

It wasn’t that he enjoyed getting beat to hell and back. He wasn’t a masochist (although, the same could not be said for the rest of his family, if anyone asked him (which, of course, they didn’t)). It was just… after three years with the Titans, constantly stretching to prove himself, pushing his abilities to keep up with those endowed with advantages he simply didn’t have, Gotham felt… lacking in comparison.

And with the Titans all but formally disbanded, Gotham was all he had.

Well… that wasn’t entirely true. He could follow Cyborg and Blue Beetle and join the Justice League. He had enough blackmail material on all the core members needed to vote him in if his father protested. It would be a welcome change; higher level threats and off world missions, if only there wasn’t the pesky problem of dealing with other heroes.

He would be the first to admit that in his younger teenage years his anti-socialness was a bit… problematic, but he’d grown past that. Socializing with the Titans had been difficult at first, but by the end he could say he was more than an acquaintance with them – even if he wouldn’t go so far as to call all of them friends. But even if he had gotten used to them, it still took three years. At least in Gotham his potential partners were all known quantities. Even if he disliked half of them on his good days.

“Robin, do you read?” called his father on the comms. He shook away his distracting maudlin thoughts.

He raised a hand to his comm. “All clear southside Batman, making my way to the roof.”

“Negative, Hood is already there. Red Robin needs help releasing the captives – cops will be here in fifteen.”

Damian bit back an irritated sigh. “I’ll be of more use-”

“Robin, that’s an order.”

The words wrapped around him, restricting in their resoluteness. He glared down at the unconscious thug and gave a swift kick to the side resulting in an incoherent groan. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “Yes, Batman.”

His comm feed dropped off.

The resulting string of swear words he uttered in Arabic would have cost him two hundred dollars in the swear jar. Damian just didn’t give enough of a fuck to bring himself to care.

-0o0-

Damian didn’t slam his bedroom door shut, but it was a close thing.

Between avoiding his father, deflecting the inane chatter of his siblings, and dealing with the GCPD, all of whom were either corrupt, uncaring, or ridiculously overworked, he had been ready stab someone, repeatedly, consequences be damned.

And that discounted dealing with the inconsolable sobbing women they rescued from the shipping containers. The sight of dozens of girls packed together like cargo, most of them his age, if not younger, would be enough to throw even the most experienced off their game.

Damian lived through some truly horrid things growing up in the League. He killed a grown man before he lost his first baby tooth. Suffered through endless hours of training with painful consequences upon any sign of failure. He had been beaten, starved, tortured, and pushed to the extremes of what a child could endure, but the utter horror and disgust he was faced with tonight, well…

At least the suffering he’d endured had a point.

Rubbing a towel through his still damp hair, he collapsed on top of his bed with an exhausted groan. The shower did little in relaxing his tensed muscles, his bed a welcome retreat after being on his feet for hours. Reaching out blindly he grabbed his phone off his bedside table. Going to bed would be the better choice, but it was Saturday, so he didn’t really give a damn.

His phone flicked on and he was taken aback by the notification awaiting him.

40 unread messages

He raised an eyebrow. That was odd. Not completely impossible, but odd. He did have acquaintances who would text him, Jon and Garfield came to mind, but it would be one or two messages at the most. Maybe a missed call if it was something extremely important.

He unlocked his phone.

Tapping on his messaging app, he saw that the messages all came from an unknown number.

That raised even more concerns, considering anyone who had this number were people he should already have programed into his contacts.

This put Damian’s suspicions on high alert.

Cautiously tapping on the text stream, he began reading.

- As long as you’re not an evil villain running around in a purple suit or a bitchy Italian transfer student I figure you won’t care about what I have to say

- I haven’t slept in two days. My brain is buzzing. And between my insomnia and four years of repressed anger generated by existing in the same city as an emotional terrorist who uses magical butterflies to turn distressed people into monsters, I might come off a bit incoherent

Before Damian could stop it, a small laugh of amusement passed his lips. This person was either really high, or entirely serious.

His finger hovered over the delete button. This had nothing to do with him. The person admitted they were texting a random number to blow off steam. He should just let it go and get some sleep.

But despite the long drive home, the debriefing, and a shower, the adrenaline hadn’t left his system yet. And the sight of those women in the container wasn’t going to leave his brain for a while. Sleep wouldn’t be coming for a long time yet. Whoever this was, sounded, if not entirely sane, at least somewhat amusing.

Looking back on it, Damian didn’t know what the influencing factor that made him read further. It could have been amusement, or curiosity. It could have been sleep deprivation. It could have been the promise of distraction. It could all of those or none of those, or any combination thereof.

Or it could have been luck.

Pulling up the knitted blanket from the end of his bed, he settled in against his covers, and began to read.

Permanent Tag List

@theunquiet-dead @loveswifi @fusser90 @animegirlweeb @ihavehomeworkbutistillhere @your-resident-chicken-nugget

Story Tag List

@maskedpainter @ambrosiabcp03 @mystery-5-5 @faunrasthewinterelf @greatcatblaze @shifty-lesbian-retro-goblin @dorkus-minimus @nickristus-dreamer @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @justafanwarrior @lunathealphafemale @dood-space @sdg-art-film-stories @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @dawnwave16 @mewwitch

#damian x marinette #maridami #maribat #damimari #mlb crossover #ml x dc #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #moodboard #damientte #fanfic

236 notes · View notes

fabulouspotatosister · 4 years

Text

just for a day

summary: What’s a little acting between friends? If friends was even the right word.

word count: (idk yet man lol ) 3,373

request: Hello! I just wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! If I may, could I request an 11 x reader where the reader’s friends keep bugging them to get a boyfriend, but they say they already do and they have to ask the Doctor to be their “boyfriend” (kind of like with Clara at the beginning of Time Of The Doctor) and eventually leads to feelings being spilt? If not, that’s perfectly fine!

a/n: this got WAYYY too long and for that i am so sorry lmao. i’m writing and posting this on the same day so if there are many mistakes or it doesn’t make sense that’s on me. anyway, i hope you enjoy this fic!

gif credit: @pavel-chekovs

“You’re back!”

You’d expected screaming. You’d expected yelling, and a fair dose of pterodactyl-esque screeching from the students in your advisory class, but what you weren’t expecting was crying. And lots of it. Nearly every fresh-faced elementary student was in tears, some sobbing quietly and some full-on bawling as soon as you walked through the door.

It was nice, cute even, but honestly a little disconcerting.

“Hi, everyone,” you said, shutting the door carefully behind you. The sight of their crying faces immediately activated your Parent Mode. “Are you all okay?”

“Perfectly fine!” Marih chirped, president of the class and therefore a little more levelheaded than the rest, which earned her a handful of disagreeing sighs. “What? Guys, you look ridiculous crying,” she continued, as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her palms and gave you a toothy grin. “We’re just happy you’re here again.”

You smiled at her, and reached out to pat the top of her head. “That’s great and all, but it’s like you guys haven’t seen me in ages.”

A heavy silence fell over the whole class. You saw students shift in their seats and look down at the floor, suddenly very interested in their black school shoes. Even Jaden, the class’s resident troublemaker, didn’t say a word. Marih cringed, ran a hand through her long dark hair, and smoothed the front of her checkered uniform.

“How long have I been gone?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Marih seemed to cringe away at the question. “I thought I was only travelling for a week!”

“Actually,” Marih said, stretching out the word, “you’ve been gone for three months?”

Your mouth fell open. You stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before you dug into your pocket and fished out your phone – she was right, it had been exactly three months and a week since you’d left the school to go travelling.

You groaned. “Oh, I’m going to kill him.”

By travelling, you meant time travelling and by him you meant the Doctor. The madman in a box that you’d run off with. You had let him turn your life upside down in the best way possible since he dragged you into the TARDIS, with his stupidly gorgeous smile and eyes and – you were getting off topic. Now you were plotting the murder of the man that you would consider to be the most incredible thing that had ever happened to you.

“Hey, ma’am?” came a soft voice from the front of the room. Karyll, with her tied-back hair and glasses, looked up at you from her seat. “Why are you looking like you’re going to kill someone?”

“’Cause I am,” you said cheerily, shoving your phone back into your pocket. Oh, you were going to have words with him, and they would most definitely not be nice ones. “Have I missed anything big? Were you nice to my substitute?”

A collective wave of disagreement swept over the class, and you couldn’t help but let a smile slip onto your face. These were your babies after all, and if you’d really been gone for three months then they were sorely missing their Second Mom.

Maybe the tears weren’t that much of a surprise after all.

“Okay, good morning everyone! Now, if we’re still on schedule, and I really hope we are, we should be talking about integers…”

The late afternoon sun drifted through the curtains of your classroom, filling the room with an almost hazy glow as you sat with your best friends in a haphazard circle of desks. Your kids had all gone home already, and a little pile of flowers and chocolates sat neatly on your shelves, right beside your lesson plan folders.

Denise leaned forward to look at them, her curly hair falling over her face. She was the elementary students’ science teacher, and was so well-organized it was almost inhuman. She would have liked the planet where everything was arranged alphabetically, you thought.

“I’m jealous, my students never give me gifts,” she said as she leaned away. “Sis, where have you even been?”

“Long story,” you replied, and it was. You weren’t sure if you could fit everything you’d been through – travelling through time, going to planets lightyears away, and of course all of the near-death experiences – into a story that you could tell in under an hour, and you weren’t going to try.

“And you’ve been travelling? By yourself?” Julianne, an arts teacher, raised her eyebrows at you from behind her laptop. “God, that’s lonely. Oh – unless…” Her calm expression morphed into something truly evil in your line of work – mischievousness. “Unless you had someone with you.”

“I mean –” Oh no, this was going to be hard to get out of. “I mean, I wasn’t alone,” you said, hoping the smile on your face was enough to mask your utter fear. You knew exactly where Julianne was going and you hated it. “I was with someone.”

“Ooh,” Julianne said, her grin growing so sly it was sending shivers up your spine. “You’ve been gone three months, has anything happened between you and your travel buddy?”

Heat rushed to your face. If you were a cartoon character steam would be pouring from your ears. “Why would you say something like that?”

Julianne shrugged. “We’ve been telling you to get a boyfriend for so long. You said you’d be gone a week, and then you disappear for three months… that kinda says something, don’t you think, Denise?”

“Definitely.” Denise grinned, and you shot her a helpless look.

“We’re doing this because we love you,” Julianne sang. The light from her laptop was enough to make her look absolutely menacing. “So? Travel buddy? Or more than that?”

The Doctor wasn’t just a travel buddy, and he was so much more than that – but you hadn’t found the words for what he meant to you, at least not yet. Companion was enough for you and him, but even then, there was a weight to that word. And there was definitely a weight to your partnership, but you wouldn’t call it… dating.

Julianne simply waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows at you. You swallowed. You and the Doctor were a long story too, and Julianne wasn’t going to be happy with “maybe” for an answer.

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Fine, he’s my boyfriend!”

I want to crawl into a hole and die was your inner monologue, and your background music was Julianne and Denise’s raucous laughter. I want to crawl into a hole and never have to face the world ever again.

Smash cut to you, standing nervously in your bedroom, gripping your phone so tightly you were sure it was going to break. Your plans of killing the Doctor for dropping you off late would have to wait. The phone rung once, twice, and you chewed your lip. If he was in the Time Vortex, any version of him could answer the phone and you couldn’t deal with that on top of everything, not today at least –

“Hello?”

You heaved a sigh of relief at the sound of the Doctor, your Doctor’s voice. “Help?” you squeaked out.

“Help?” the Doctor repeated. There was a blaring noise, and then the sound of electricity crackling. Something fizzled and popped, and the Doctor shouted something that sounded like a swear. “Oh, shut it – you – sorry, sorry. You were saying?”

“Uh, where are you right now? Are you somewhere?” you asked.

“I’m not somewhere, I’m drifting! Right above Earth, approximately right where you are,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. It quelled your anxiety somewhat. “I’m doing maintenance. Agh – ow! I think I can see the roof of your house through the clouds, unless that’s someone else’s house. What color is your roof?”

You giggled. “It’s brown. You’re in the same time as me?”

“’Course I am,” the Doctor said. You heard the clanging sound of metal being dropped. “I never left.”

The Doctor liked to run off on his own when you were home and have his own mini-adventures. He liked to come back and say he’d spent his time with alien royalty, or something like that. But instead he was staying put, he was waiting, for you. It made the next part so much harder.

“I need you to be my boyfriend,” you said quickly, covering your burning face with your free hand.

“Oh,” the Doctor said simply. Another clang.

Oh? “Just for a day,” you coughed. “I kind of said that I had a boyfriend, and that he was my travel buddy, and now my friends kind of want to meet you. It’s my grade’s family day tomorrow, maybe you could, uh, show up?”

“And be your boyfriend,” the Doctor said.

You nodded, then, “And be my boyfriend. Just for the day. You never have to show up again.”

There was a beat of silence, and for a second you thought the Doctor was going to say no – he had every right to, of course, and you could just lie and say that he couldn’t show up – but the Doctor laughed, cheerful and warm. “Ding-dong! Okay! What time tomorrow? I have to study, I’m a bit rusty in places.”

Your mouth fell open for the second time in twenty-four hours. “You’re serious?”

“Very! Any pet name preferences?”

You groaned loudly, and the Doctor laughed again. “Shut up!”

“Alright, alright. Guess I’ll have to do my own research.”

There was another moment of silence, and when the Doctor spoke again, it was much softer, much less playful. His voice almost sounded fond. “Goodnight?”

“Goodnight, Doctor,” you said softly, and the call cut off with a series of short beeps.

Was it a surprise that you barely slept at all? You had spent the whole night with your imagination running at full capacity, your mind latching onto every single thought and concept it could come up with. You slipped in and out of sleep, lying still in bed whenever a possibility popped into your head. To say you were nervous was the understatement of the year – but what was a little acting between friends?

If friends was the right word for it.

You waited for the Doctor behind the school, leaning against the concrete wall and watching the TARDIS fade into this plane. Wind blew into your face as the TARDIS groaned and wheezed, eventually materializing in front of you.

“I’m not late, am I?” the Doctor said, sticking his head out of the TARDIS doors. He grinned widely, his hair falling into his face. You grinned back at him and pushed yourself off the wall.

“You’re early, which is a first,” you said. The Doctor frowned at you, stepped carefully out of the TARDIS, and frowned some more. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I think I’ve earned the right to look at you however I’d like,” the Doctor huffed, adjusting his bowtie. He’d ditched the tweed for the day, it seemed, going with a long green coat that annoyingly complimented his eyes. The frown didn’t last very long, though, because he went right back to grinning brightly at you. He held out his elbow in your direction. “Shall we?”

“Here’s the lucky girl,” Julianne cooed as you walked into the empty canteen. All the tables were pushed aside to make space for all the games you’d be playing – in the corner of your eye, you saw the Doctor light up at the sight of all of the streamers and balloons. “And here’s the lucky boy – oh my god, Denise.”

“What?” Denise popped up from behind a large speaker, then blanched. “Oh, now I’m double jealous.”

The Doctor pulled away from you to lightly kiss both of Julianne’s cheeks in greeting. Julianne looked positively starstruck when he stepped back to stand beside you, quickly waving Denise over. Denise had her mouth hanging open, still clutching a microphone in her hands.

“Hi,” you said, gesturing at the Doctor, “here’s my boyfriend.”

The Doctor raised his hand and smiled. “Hello! I’m John Smith, lovely to meet you both. You’re my girlfriend’s girl friends, I assume?”

“Uh –” Denise blinked owlishly. “Yeah, we are.” Then, quietly and to herself, “Holy moly.”

You couldn’t help but grin at their flabbergasted faces. The Doctor rested his hand on the small of your back, and you leaned into his touch as if it was the most normal thing in the universe. That was enough to make Denise stumble into Julianne, who barely even reacted, as she was still staring wide-eyed at the both of you.

“I think we caught them off guard,” you said. The Doctor chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You did when we met, sweetheart,” the Doctor said smoothly. Sweetheart echoed in your ears and bounced off the walls of your already racing mind. Your heart stuttered in your chest. That was bad.

“Oh, are we doing charm now?” you asked. “Are you trying to be charming?”

“I did say I would study,” the Doctor said.

“You guys are insufferable,” Denise said, but she was beaming at you. “If you could get your hands off of your travel buddy for just a few minutes, I need help with the mics, the families are gonna be here any minute…”

Her voice trailed off as she walked back to the speaker. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss the Doctor’s cheek, feeling his skin heat up underneath your lips. “See you later.”

“…See you,” the Doctor echoed, and bent down to kiss your cheek too. He turned on his heel and walked towards the decorations, softly muttering, “Ooh, balloons! Love a good balloon…”

You stared at him for longer than you should have, watching him poke and prod at the balloons lying on the tables. He put his face very close to one and smiled at his reflection in the plastic. Affection welled up in your chest, and a tiny smile slipped onto your face.

“Look at you, you’re smiling at him,” Julianne chimed, sidling up to you and nudging your side. “That’s disgusting.”

“Says the girl who said I needed to get a boyfriend,” you shot back.

The Doctor went still for a little bit and turned to face you, smiled and winked, then went right back to inspecting balloons. Julianne made a strangled noise, and you made one too. So he was doing charm, and you hated to admit that it was absolutely working on you.

“I meant to say disgustingly adorable,” Julianne said. “You’re so lucky.”

You gave him another glance as you walked away to help Denise with the mics – “help with the mics” was apparently code for “I’m going to tease you more about your new boyfriend” which wasn’t helped by the fact that every so often, the Doctor would look in your direction and just smile, which was enough to make you stumble over your own words and give Denise more teasing fodder.

The parents and their kids eventually filed into the canteen and you flipped into Teacher Mode. You stood next to your students, pinched their cheeks and then greeted all of the parents and got everyone ready for the program. (You didn’t notice how the Doctor mirrored you, standing a little far away and watching, a dumb smile on his face.)

Julianne and Denise were the emcees for the family day, big smiles on their faces as they rounded up everyone for the games. At the mere mention of games, the Doctor was back at your side at an instant, his eyes glittering with excitement.

“Please don’t destroy the kids,” you pleaded.

“No promises,” he replied, and then proceeded to destroy the kids in most of the games.

The first game had Julianne call out for whoever could bring an item of her choice to the table – the Doctor, with his coat that was surely bigger on the inside, had no trouble pulling out whatever was asked. Even when Julianne started to test the waters and ask for increasingly insane items, the Doctor just kept going. He jumped in joy like a little kid at the win, bounding up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You’d just blushed and smiled, ignoring the butterflies that were multiplying in your stomach.

The Doctor holding your hand wasn’t new. The Doctor being close to you wasn’t new. The Doctor being affectionate with you wasn’t new. But now it was all under the guise of being your boyfriend. Of course it felt different, but to your surprise and growing horror, it didn’t feel bad.

The Doctor shouting your name snapped you out of your thoughts. He was standing on a piece of newspaper as Denise started to get music ready, waving his arms to beckon you over. His coat was gone, thrown onto a nearby table, and even without it he was dashing.

“I need you over here!” he yelled, still jumping excitedly. His hair bounced up and down with the movement. “I need a partner!”

You let your feet carry you to him, trying to ignore the stares pointed your way. The Doctor took your hand in his and pulled you onto the newspaper.

“Stay close,” the Doctor said. “I’ve got this.”

Loud, thumping music filled the air. The Doctor spun you around and you squealed in surprise, moving your feet clumsily to the music. Suddenly, it stopped, and the Doctor pulled you back onto the newspaper. It was a tight fit, and you had to press yourself against his body to even stay standing. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy at the contact, and once again you tried to ignore that, too.

“What did I say?” the Doctor breathed, his breath tickling your ear, his smile wide and manic. “Let’s dance!”

The paper got smaller and smaller, and the two of you got closer and closer. Sweat started to bead on your forehead, and the Doctor had rolled his sleeves up in the middle of all the chaos. In the end, it was just you and another pair of parents, tiptoeing on their own folded pieces of newspaper.

“I’ve got an idea,” the Doctor said, his voice loud over the music. “When the music stops, jump into my arms.”

“Seriously?!” you shouted, and the Doctor nodded enthusiastically. “You’ve got the balance of a drunk giraffe! You’ll drop me!”

“Do you trust me?” the Doctor asked.

There wasn’t any question. “I do!”

“Then jump!”

The music stopped, and in the split second where the Doctor stepped onto the now-tiny folded newspaper, you ran and leapt. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to catch you at all, and in your mind you could already see it – you crashing into him and sending you both tumbling to the floor.

The Doctor’s arms shot out and caught you. Cheers erupted from everyone in the canteen, and behind you your competitors both lost their balance and fell face-first onto the floor. You wrapped your arms around the Doctor’s neck to steady yourself in his arms, feeling him shake slightly as he kept you aloft.

“We won!” you gasped, still basking in all of the cheering. “As expected from my lovely boyfriend.”

The words left your mouth as easily as breathing. You smiled up at the Doctor, breathless from all of the dancing. His skin shone with sweat, his hair was a mess, and his bowtie was askew, but even that was enough to make you throw all caution to the wind – still in his arms, you pulled him down and kissed him.

Cheers erupted from everyone again, but you could care less. The room could be empty and nothing would have changed. As cliché as it sounded, all the mattered was the feeling of the Doctor’s lips against yours. Your hands found their way into his hair and he melted into your touch, pulling you closer to him.

“You know,” the Doctor breathed as he pulled away, “I don’t want this to be just for a day.”

“Good,” you replied. You leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because I don’t either.”

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #doctor who fanfiction #eleventh doctor fanfiction #oh god i spend too long on the intro for this i'm so sorry

460 notes · View notes

whentheynameyoujoy · 3 years

Text

So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

youtube

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

#atla #atla movie #zutara #anti bryke #dev patel #the last airbender #anti-kataang

173 notes · View notes

thewatercolours · 2 years

Text

King's Quest Ficlet: Stargazers

Inspired by @gerbiloftriumph's lovely piece of art, "Shooting Star."

“That’s the fifth falling star in as many minutes. You have to make a wish, or they won’t stop falling. The sky will be nothing but black. You don’t want that to be on you, do you? Awkward one to have to explain to the – ooooh!” King Graham jabbed a finger at the sky as though he meant to poke a hole in the upper ethers, tilting his body so far back that he reeled off-kilter. He’d have dominoed straight back into Royal Guard Number One, had that worthy not reflexively shoved him between the shoulder blades. Sometimes Number One wondered if the king was aware he had a body at all.

Graham hardly seemed to notice anything had transpired. He wheeled round with a grin like a drawn bow. “Come on. You’ve got to have seen those two! They crossed at least half the sky before they disappeared. They almost crisscrossed!” When he received no response, a sly look overtook him. “Nothing to say? Waiting for a meatier conversation? Are you really going to let this pass without comet? Do I need to give you some space?”

Number One folded his arms, and mustered all the alertness left him at this late hour. “Battlement watch, Sire, does not concern itself with threats from the sky. Concerns down-to-earth earth take up our time quite sufficiently as it is. Now as I was saying, the memorization process is complex enough without sleep deprivation. Your ability to rule fluidly will be stunted until you’ve committed the legal codes to memory, and stargazing will not –“ To his chagrin, he had to break off for the sake of a yawn, a common human failing that nearly always robbed one of the verbal high ground.

The king shrugged. “Make a wish on the next comet, and I’ll go.”

“I think not.”

“Pinkie promise!” He extended said finger as though he were taking tea.

The only thing that kept Number One from responding, "Royalty do not pinkie promise" was that he would sound precisely like the governess who had raised King Edward's sisters, once upon a time.

“Let me clarify," he said instead. "I mean I think not when it comes to wishes.” Zards, he was wilting. His limbs were relaxing despite themselves, and his chin had already nodded against his chest once or twice.

“Royal command, then.” The king turned his back again, nose pointed constellation-ward.

“Respectfully suggest that is an abuse of prerogative.”

Somehow, Graham’s eyes were clearly twinkling, even though Number One could only see the back of his feather-trimmed head. Maybe it was just the stars. “Respectfully suggest there’s nothing in the legal code about wishes,” said Graham. “I just read it cover to cover four times in the last month. I should know.”

Aha – now Graham would catch himself in his own trap. Number One jumped on it. “I agree, sire. There is nothing about them. I am on duty, as it happens. Wishes are not accounted for in our mandate.”

“Decree 11390 allows the ruler to interrupt protocol for emergency consultation at any time time, on any subject,” Graham rattled off smugly, propping an elbow on a mossy merlon. “Oh, come on. You’re not even going to make a sarcastic wish like ‘I wish the king would go to bed?’"

Number One shifted uncomfortably. This conversation really wasn't going to finish until he gave the proper reason, was it? It felt almost ridiculous to say so, given that it had been decades and the natural historians had expressed opinions about extinction. And the whole thing smacked inconveniently of superstition. He didn't care to think of himself as the superstitious sort. And yet he remembered a time of people disappearing. Of people coming back wrong.

He coughed, and chose the Path of Discretion. “Most people in Daventry know better than to wish without caution, Your Majesty. One never knows who might be eavesdropping.”

Graham glanced over his shoulder with a befuddled frown. “What? Is it a really embarrassing wish, or something?”

“No."

"Well then?"

Ugh... sometimes it felt like life was determined to railroad him onto the Path of Bluntness. "It’s a matter of fairies.” Graham stifled a chuckle, and Number One squared his shoulders with dignity. “In all seriousness. Daventry has dealt with fairy infestations before, and I am sorry to say, rather burnt its bridges with the pest control guild several years back. It’s risky to say anything that could even remotely be understood as a wish. Little blighters always insist on payment of one kind or another.”

Graham paused. “Well,” he said dubiously, “in Llewdor everyone wishes on falling stars. And eyelashes, and sneezes, and ladybugs, and dozens of other things. And I never heard of anyone running into trouble with fairies afterwards.”

“Daventry is different.”

The king considered a moment, and then a smile settled across his face. He leaned against the merlon again, and by the flicker of the candle, the guard saw him draw a deep, contented breath of summer night air, and exhale slowly. Graham closed his eyes, and murmured. “Yes, Daventry is different.”

Silence took them. The meteor shower intensified. At one point they were falling so thickly that it was impossible to look at any corner of the sky without a comet crossing one’s field of vision. Graham gasped as though they were fireworks, and even Number One had to privately admit it was impressive show, if rather late for his liking. If only the king would come away…

“Okay,” Graham murmured at last. “I’ll tell you my wish for tonight. That Daventry will always be different. Different than it was under King Edward. Different than it is tonight. Never the same – always changing, growing. I never want Daventry to be a place you need to leave to find adventures and falling stars.” His nose crinkled, and he looked down for a moment. “I mean, of course, anyone can if they want to. I want to. As soon as we’re done all the training, in fact, I want to. But – I’d love it to be a place I would also come back to find adventure. I want to have been right when I put the old crown in storage and put this back on.” He flicked his cap with a finger.

The words were genuine, but there was something slightly stilted about them, like they’d been turned over a good many times before being spoken aloud. Number One cleared his throat. “You’ve been thinking about leaving for some time, then.”

“Yes.” He fixed his gaze on Number One, and spoke very softly. “Do you think… a good king can also be a wanderer? Take care of his people and go questing? I’ve felt it in my gut that’s what I’m called to do for a while now. Am I… crazy?”

If this question had appeared out of the blue, Number might have been inclined to reply dryly, "Quite." However, as it happened, Number One had had several months to see this train of thought simmering, stewing, and coming to a rolling bubble. At first it had silently alarmed him. A king who wanted to gallivant about like an errant, footloose? Not only did it smack of irresponsibility, but it seemed downright impractical. How could a kingdom run without it's king's feet firmly planted on its ground?

And yet, there was no denying - Graham was a mediocre sort of administrator as his best, but a sterling adventurer. And... somehow that worked. After the incident of the goblin tunnels, Graham had gone off on a leave of sorts for some months, which had apparently mainly involved seeking out helpless people with mythic-sized problems, outwitting monsters, and that sort of thing. And when he'd come back... he'd managed. They were far behind the complicated schedule for addendum training Number One had posted on forty-eight sheets of paper along the royal bedroom corridor. But when he'd resumed training, he had tackled it with ten times the efficiency he had before. He didn't flounder. He actually seemed to have opinions, and didn't shy away from debating the ones he felt were ill-advised - and he was usually right. Daventry had survived the absence, and now that he was back it was - he had to admit - showing signs of thriving and growth it hadn't in more than a decade.

So Number One mentally batted away the host of ironic replies that he might have made to such a question as "Am I crazy?" and dug up the one sincere one in the lot. “Possibly. I have never heard of a kingdom that managed things like that. But… Daventry is different enough, I think. For what you have in mind.”

Graham nodded. “Thanks. That actually means a lot to hear it.” He rubbed at his eyelids with the back of his hand. “I… should really hit the sack.”

“Very good, Your Majesty.”

Graham turned, feeling in the shadow missed by the torchlight for the curling tower stairway’s banister. Number One found himself clearing his throat.

“If you want to know, my – ahem – hope at this moment (I don’t call it a wish,)” he said loudly, for the benefit of any stray fairies, “is for…”

But Graham was already round the curve.

#Unedited - I'm impatient and need to go to bed too.#king's quest #kings quest #king's quest 2015 #king graham #guard number one #royal guards #fanfiction #ficlets #rippling consequences #my writing

8 notes · View notes

pangtasias-atelier · 3 years

Text

Fattened Up Devils

This was planned a whole ass year ago but then I kinda fell out of Obey Me. I wanted to write this but just kinda haven't lol, so take this 2k outline/kinda heaadcanons

Size ideas/focuses

Diavolo:

Supportive of the human's antics, saying it livens up the place and makes it so that devil's don't look as scary. Is also got a little pot belly but doesn't mind, happily accepting the lunches the human gives him at school everyday.

Lucifer:

Skinny, not even a single pound gained. Still tsundere and caring as ever. Same ol' activity as always. Still just flabbergasted about wtf the human is doing to the devils around him, but also kinda salty that the human is spending less time with him.

Mammon:

Barely able to move, lazy and whiny. Out of breath, always wants the human to be by his side. Acts like a child. Huge gut and breasts. Clothes super tight/ripped. Tries to go to school, always gives up after breakfast, too tired and full to walk. Stays home now.

Leviathan:

Extremely huge ass. Super lazy, just stays at home now. The others can have the human as long as they stay with him. Binge watches anime and binges. Sweatpants, doesn't care about being called a shut-in/neet anymore.

Satan:

Pretty big. A soft large round shape. Still attends classes. Tries his distant stuff but never works anymore, his extra pudge making him lose all credibility. Doesn't admit it but really enjoys having more time with the human at school. He gets super flustered as the human smiles at his "cool" act.

Asmodeus:

Husky but make it hourglass. Always as fashionable as ever. Points out their weight and always tries to sell it as the new hip trend. Has a modeling job still. Also flaunts and teases others about it. Especially the human, but it doesn't work so instead he whines to them as they comfort him.

Beezlebub:

Even hungrier than before. Pretty fat. Like Belphegor but bigger ass. Magic casted on Beezlebub by the human to help suppress it so he can think for some time. But when it comes back, he's just an eating machine. Starts trying to outpace himself and eating more, the human helping him. Skips classes sometimes.

Belphegor:

Need for sleep is even more severe. Like Beezlebub but bigger stomach. Often uses the human as a pillow but also allows the human to use him as a pillow, more like a bean bag. Skips classes most of the time. Not as demanding for the human, kinda goes with the flow.

Human:

Pacts with all 7 demon brothers. Practicing magic at RAD, getting extremely proficient with it. But uses it for "mundane" things. Basically to help out with cooking. All magic energy spent in a day to just help cook enough food for all 7. Not having gained a pound, as skinny as Lucifer. Coddles each one, always listening to them and doing them favors.

Plot/layout

A general run through of the human's day.

Lucifer wakes up, refreshed and ready to start a new day. Quickly but immaculately getting ready, find that all the others are already awake before him. Again. Still not used to the sight, but he doesn't react as an enchanted plate and mug passes by right in front of his face. A simple everything bagel with cream cheese and black coffee Lucifer's breakfast.

Sitting down, the table is an absolute mess, no thanks in part due to all the others nearly stuffing his face.

Beezlebub is eating more food than a county fair, just absolutely famished and not even trying to, while Leviathan is trying to keep up as a show that he enjoys the human's food most of all. Actually keeping up, but struggling to, out of breath. Mammon is complaining about how hard it is to feed himself. Before shutting up as the utensils begin to feed him quickly with whole pancakes, waffles, french toast, omelettes etc, rubbing whatever he can even reach of his vast gut. Belphegor is slowly but surely picking away at his food, murmuring about how good it is. Satan has a, relatively, small plate but still packed with food. He actually tries to help the human, but is instead just kinda pushed back to sit down and relax. Asmodeus laughs at him, saying to eat what the human gives them. Patting his stomach, he says that all this weight is from the human loving him.

Asmodeus and Satan already dressed. Mammon has some boxer shorts and a too tight shirt. Levitation is in sweats. Beezlebub in jeans and a tight shirt. Belphegor in a shirt and tight pants.

Lucifer tries not to scowl or cough on his bagel by that point. Getting up after a bit, he goes to head out early for school, something with Diavolo planned.

Still at the House of Lamentations, Leviathan is groaning and stuffing his face as much as he can but still loses to Beezlebub. Complains and is about to get angry until the human reassures them that they did a great job, rubbing their huge gut. Levi grumbles before the human helps them get up, Levi waddling away and back to his room, huffing and rubbing his gut. Spell cast on Beezlebub, he and Belphegor leave to their first class, both leaving early to make stops and grab some more food. Mammon whining about how stuffed he is, he groans as he leans back. Huffing, he tries to stand back but falls back down. The chair splinters right underneath him, falling on his fat ass. Still whining saying the human should spend all day with him cause they did this. Asmodeus laughs and pokes at Mammon, Mammon too fat to stop him. Satan coughs, saying goodbye and thanks for breakfast again, face a bit red. Asmodeus leaves a bit after too. Using magic, the human gets Mammon up and helps them back to their room. Mammon whines for breaks all the time, but the human gets them back to his room and helps him lie down, Mammon all tired out.

Back at RAD, Lucifer checks the time. Seeing that it's still quite some time before the humans classes start, the human smart in taking classes later in the day. Meets Diavolo, has a meeting about the logistics of club rush or whatever, something irrelevant and I don't have to google much shit on. Lucifer extremely aware of Diavolo's pot belly. Diavolo not taking the meeting seriously, asking Lucifer probing questions about his brothers and the human, which Lucifer dutifully answers. A knock on the door, Diavolo tells them to enter and it's the human. They say hi to Lucifer before greeting Diavolo and handing them their lunch. Diavolo excited, he greedily hugs the human, saying Lucifer should take advantage of their great cooking. Lucifer suddenly notes the little onset of a double chin on Diavolo and just how much food can be packed in that bag.

Human goes to a class, knows no one, handwave it off. Have a small 20 min. gap. Goes to see Belphegor, Belphegor having lunch. Sees the table tip over a bit from Belphegor's weight. Sitting all alone, joins them, talking. Sees Belphegor is drowsy, buys them a coffee, putting a fuckton of sugar in it, to help wake them up. Almost time to go back to class, Beezlebub shows up, carrying a large amount of food. Sits down opposite of Belphegor. Asks human what's for dinner, human laughs before Belphegor asks the same, both ravenous. Human says curry before rushing off to next class.

Class is art, professor announces having a live model for this one. Asmodeus walks on, grinning and all cheery, knowing the human is in this class. Asks if this is a nude one, but professor reprimands them, saying to keep their clothes on. Asmodeus grumbles but does so. Keeps an eye on the human as they make their pose, everyone drawing. Human ignores all of Asmodeus bs, getting to work. Diligently gets all of Asmodeus' folds and curves, the drawing of Asmodeus even looking a bit fatter.

Leaves class, Asmodeus whines about how they still have a class after this and it's not fair that the human only has 2 classes twice a week. Human says it's not their fault for getting everything done back in the human realm. Human heading back home, sees a couple of texts.

One from the group chat of all 8 of them, Belphegor complaining about how hungry he is. Then it's about how everyone else is now hungry. Ends with Lucifer saying how ridiculous they all are. Human says, they'll make curry, just got out of class.

Sees another text from Leviathan. Asking them if they could buy some limited edition snacks, 2 of each (one for eating and one for collection) since they don't feel like leaving his room. Human agrees, then panics as someone taps their shoulder.

It's Satan, apologizing for scaring them and saying his classes are done too to walk back home together. Satan says it's fine to go do Leviathan's errand together. The two shopping, also ends with the human buying a lot of food and snacks. Satan doesn't understand how they didn't realize the sheer cost of it all. Human says it's okay, Diavolo is paying for it all as part of the exchange program. Also has some of Satan's favorite snacks, hot crisps. Two walk back together, hands full of bags. Chilly, Satan gives human his coat before they can argue. Then realizes how huge it is on them, trying not to think about it.

Back home, starts cooking dinner, assures Satan it's fine. Easy work with magic, everything ready in time. Sends text ten minutes before hand, everyone knowing that it's for Mammon who takes forever. Everyone still already seated, Leviathan second to last. Mammon asks what, everyone says they've been waiting. Lucifer angrily mentions the broken chair he heard from Asmodeus. Mammon says whatever, it's not the first thing and he's not the only one either, Leviathan breaking his computer chair and Beezlebub and Belphegor also breaking the couch in the recreation rooms. Asmodeus laughs before Mammon rats him out too, saying he broke a table from one of his selfie sessions and sitting on top of it. Then Mammon says Satan also broke a vase with his stomach from turning around.

Everyone minus Lucifer ready to fight, the human announces dinner, serving everyone. Plenty enough, everyone minus Lucifer gets seconds, some getting thirds and fourths.

After dinner, everyone heads back to their rooms. Human grabs snacks, goes to Leviathan's room. Gives them snacks, sees the empty boxes of pizza. Leviathan apologizes, saying that he knew curry wouldn't fill him up. Human says it's okay, feeds him the last half a box while two do a rewatch of an anime. Leviathan embarrassed and not even paying much attention with how close the human is, resting against his gut as they watch it.

After a couple episodes, the human goes to Mammon's room after getting a text from them. Arriving, they see Mammon is stuck on the floor, their chair broken. Whining about the cheap wood, he tells the human to help him. Instead they lie on his stomach playing on their phone. Mammon says it's not fair before asking nicely. The human helps them up. Patting and rubbing Mammon's stomach, they decide to start cleaning up the kitchen.

In the kitchen, the human starts washing the dishes. Every once in a while, someone walking in to grab some more food. Just finishing up, Lucifer walks in. Sees how "haggard" the human look, hair all unkempt, forehead glossy, asks to speak with them privately in the library.

Lucifer makes sure that his brothers aren't treating them like a servant or anything. Human assures him that they're fine, if they didn't enjoy this then they wouldn't be doing all of this.

Lucifer asks what do they mean by "this"?

Human explains doting on ,taking care of etc

Lucifer asks what about their weight.

Human nonchalantly says that they like their men to have some meat on them. Actually, make that a lot of meat.

Lucifer simply nods, saying that's all. Human walks off. Lucifer remembers the text in the group chat, everyone asking the human whether they liked men to have muscle or be skinny. The human instead saying "neither ;)"

Letting out a hmmph, Lucifer simply heads back to their own room. Having a plate of the human's cookies, Diavolo sharing it with him. Lucifer takes a bite before eating an entire cookie. Lifting up his shirt, he places a hand on his flat stomach. Thinking about the human's words, he eats another cookie.

#my writing #maybe ill make something if there's like some interest lol #fat fiction #male weight gain

37 notes · View notes