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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

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Stalker X Stalker, Part 4

First

Perma tag: @nathleigh

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever

Marinette almost missed Hawkmoth. Sure, she ended up extremely emotionally repressed, but hey! At least her opponent was stupid, at least she never had to fear losing.

But, yeah, that was why she didn’t notice the fact that chloroform was on the floor. That was way too smart for a villain, in her opinion. Wasn’t Joker supposed to be insane or something? Why wasn’t he completely stupid like Hawkmoth had been?

Those were her last thoughts before her vision blacked out.

She blinked her eyes open one time while she was being transported, but… it wasn’t enough. Her head pounded, her limbs felt like lead. She tried to pull one of her arms away from the five goons carrying her around -- she giggled at how much effort they were going through to keep a half-conscious person down -- but it was too weak to even break their grip. She wasn’t going to be getting out of the situation anytime soon.

She rested her head back against the chest of whoever was carrying her head.

Her eyes fluttered shut without her permission.

It took a while for her to be able to open her eyes again, and when she did she was almost tempted to close them. She was tied up with Red Robin, hanging upside down over a vat of acid. Decidedly not a good situation to be in. Maybe she could ignore it for a little longer…?

She buried her face in the neck of Red Robin’s suit, using the cool material as a kind of cold pack to try and soothe her pounding headache.

… wait... Red Robin!

She had a bit of protection because of her mask covering her mouth and nose and miraculous immune system, but he was a human and both his mouth and nose were uncovered! Shit!

Marinette pulled back as much as she could to check his face and see if he was okay and then cursed the domino mask blocking his eyes from her view. What she could see wasn’t good, though: the skin of his face had broken out into hives where he had come into contact with the chloroform. Ouch.

She tried just poking the good parts of his face with her nose to get him to wake up, but clearly that wasn’t working. Alright, new plan.

“Red Robin?” She whispered.

Nothing.

“Red Robin Red Robin Red Red Red Red Red…”

She was pretty sure she was doing this annoying thing right. She didn’t have siblings, how could she know?

Wait wait wait, what was that one thing that his siblings always said to him?

“Reeeeed Robin, yum~.”

Not even that got a response? Damn, he must really be out of it.

Time for drastic measures, then.

She tipped her head back as far back as it could go and then slammed her forehead against his. This evoked a lot of swearing from both parties. Apparently, headbutting people doesn’t help headaches.

When her head stopped ringing as loudly, she peeked her eyes open. “Sorry, checking to see if you were alive.”

He gave about as much of a nod as he could. “It’s… I understand why you had to do it.”

She gave a tentative smile. “Right. Still, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her, then glanced down to see what they were working with. He bit his lip anxiously. “Ah, that’s not good,” he said after a few moments of consideration.

She rolled her eyes because, yeah, obviously. She didn’t say that aloud, it wasn’t productive, so she said: “I’m going to squirm. See if you can free your arms a little?”

“Do you think I have some kind of gadget in my gloves for every situation?”

“Don’t you?”

He hesitated. “I mean… yes, I do have something that could help us out of the ropes, but we are kinda over acid right now. How fast is your reaction time?”

She tipped her head from side to side with an awkward smile. “Not great.”

“Then maybe we should just wait for backup --.”

“Do you think they’ll get here before Joker does?”

“... you’re right. Start squirming --.”

“Wow, you two hate me that much? I’m hurt,” a voice cooed.

Marinette jumped out of her skin. She craned her neck to glare at Joker for scaring her…

And immediately regretted it. Why was his face not attached to his skull properly? Did he cut his own face off? Who even does that? Ew.

Red Robin scowled at him. “I can’t say we were all glad to hear you were out.”

“Red Robin...” she warned.

“Wow, not even old Batsy was happy to hear the news?”

“Nope. Didn’t say anything, actually.”

Joker’s smile wavered. “He didn’t?”

“Um, Red,” she tried again.

“Nothing,” he confirmed. “Not. A. Word.”

Joker didn’t seem to know what to do about this information. Batman wasn’t even paying attention to him? What was the point, then?

Marinette was also concerned about what was going on, but for a completely different reason. She leaned close to his ear and whispered: “Why are we trying to anger the psychopath?”

He gave as much of a shrug as he could while tied up. “If he’s talking he’s not trying to kill us.”

“And what if he gets angry enough to kill us?”

“He probably won’t.”

She winced. “Okay, I really don’t like your use of ‘probably’ there --.”

With both of their hands forced behind their backs, the only comfort he could really give was pressing his good cheek to hers. It shouldn’t have worked, but apparently life or death situations mess with your emotions.

“Just… trust me?” He pleaded quietly.

She sucked in a deep breath before turning to glare at Joker, who was still having a crisis over the fact that Batman didn’t care as much as he did. Well, she guessed that she had to take out her headache on someone. Might as well be the bitch in ugly clown makeup.

“You know, I don’t even understand why people are scared of you.”

Joker frowned and turned to look at her. “What?”

“I mean, I get why Poison Ivy is feared, I get why Mr. Freeze is feared… I even get Penguin and Riddler since they both have a high enough intellect to make up for their lack of powers… but you’re just… some guy.”

Joker gave her a cold look. “I could kill you.”

“So could a particularly determined cow, you’re not special.”

Red Robin snickered. She smiled, a little proud of herself for making him laugh.

Their grins were wiped off their faces when the rope holding them up dropped.

It caught them again dangerously close to the acid. Red Robin was a few centimeters from getting a new haircut. Marinette wondered, morbidly, whether her suit would go with her if she disintegrated.

“Not going to kill us, huh?”

“... well, I did say probably,” he mumbled, his face a little red.

She swallowed thickly. “If we live, I’m going to kill you.”

“Fair. Want to mess with him if he’s going to kill us anyways?”

“... yes.” She whipped around to glare at Joker again. “I mean, honestly, why aren’t you dead yet?”

“We don’t kill,” supplied Red Robin.

She grinned. “Sure, and I get that. I’m also not fond of murder... but is every citizen in Gotham just agreeing to not kill him? Does Batman spend all his time making sure that civilians don’t do it? Why hasn’t anyone seen him on the street and just tried to run him over?”

“... I mean, Robin hit him with the Batmobile once.”

“See?” She grinned. “And don’t even get me started on Punchline and your goons, Joker. How did you find so many people loyal to you?”

“I love him!” Said Punchline defensively.

“... sweetie, if you want a pasty white guy with green hair just watch 2016 Jacksepticeye.”

Red Robin nodded. “At least he’s kind of funny sometimes.”

“If you need the guy to be evil, how about the evil alter ego he made… what was he called?”

“Antisepticeye.”

“Ha, you’re a fucking nerd,” Marinette teased.

Red Robin blushed (or maybe that was just the blood slowly rushing to their heads from being upside down for so long) and pointedly ignored her: “Look up Antisepticeye. It’ll probably be healthier for you.”

Punchline didn’t have a retort for that. Marinette was deciding that was because she was considering it, not because she probably didn’t know who Jack/Antisepticeye was.

She pushed on: “And, hey, you goons don’t have to give Punchline over there the glory. Stab your boss. C’mon, it’ll be cool. Doubt he’s paying you more than whatever bounty is on his head, anyways.”

“If you’re going to rally henchmen maybe you shouldn’t call them ‘goons’,” suggested Red Robin.

She pouted. “But ‘goons’ sounds cuter.”

He opened his mouth to retort but she’d never know what he was going to say because, at that moment, Signal and Robin came busting in through the skylight.

Tim relaxed when he heard the glass shatter. Whether Marientte’s henchmen rallying had somehow worked or their backup had come, it at least meant that Joker and Punchline were distracted from wanting to murder them.

He struggled to crane his neck to see what was going on.

Oh. Damn. Damian was back from his angsting on the weird murder island? And he was here? Nevermind, he’d prefer Joker and Punchline. Damian was never going to let him live this down.

Speaking of Damian, a weight jumped onto their ropes and the three vigilantes became a pendulum. Tim grit his teeth tightly and Marinette let loose a long string of swears as their headaches worsened.

But, apparently, the world wasn’t done with them. Damian sliced the line at the highest point and they went flying across the room. Tim was the unlucky one on the bottom when they hit the ground, which he doubted was an accident.

Damian left them to deal with things on their own from there. Least he could have done was cut them free with his katana, but Tim supposed that was too much to wish for from the youngest brother.

He rested his head back against the cool floor for a second. He could feel Marinette stretch across his shoulder to do the same. They sighed in relief. This was the closest they had come to treating their headaches and wow was it nice.

But, frankly, resting in the middle of a fight isn’t a great idea. So, they wriggled around on the floor until he was able to flick open the tiny knife in the index finger of his gloves and cut the rope binding them without, y’know, cutting one of them instead.

Freedom! What did they do with this newfound freedom, you may ask? Scratch their heads. Turns out chloroform sucks for many reasons and one of those is that it’s a major skin irritant.

He also vomited. Thank god they’d been freed. He’d been only a few seconds away from throwing up on Marinette. He felt especially bad about that when she peeled a hand from her itching to hold his hair away from his face.

The fight was over soon enough. Duke and Damian came over to watch the two of them attempting to peel their skin off layer by layer.

“Pathetic,” chided Damian.

“Don’t be a dick --.” Marinette cut herself off, her hand flying to her mouth. “I swore in front of a baby.”

“I’m twelve!”

“Exactly: a baby.” She reached out and cupped a very affronted Damian’s face in her hands. “Look, you still have baby fat! You shouldn’t be fighting crime!”

Tim couldn’t tell if she was messing with Damian for being rude to them or if she genuinely saw him as a little kid. He wasn’t going to correct her. She’d remember he was a gremlin soon enough.

Damian wrenched his face from her grip. “If I hadn’t come you two would have been burned in acid.”

“Please, we all know Signal probably could have dealt with this entirely on his own,” Marinette waved him off.

Duke rested a hand over his heart like he was touched.

Tim rolled his eyes and pulled Marinette to him, resting his head on top of hers lazily. “We should get a checkup at the cave. Chloroform has… not nice effects and we both rolled around in it a little while fighting.”

Duke and Damian both winced, but Marinette didn’t seem all that concerned.

“I’ll be fine. My immune system is enhanced by --.”

Duke clapped his hands by her ears as loudly as he could. Neither Marinette nor Tim were particularly happy about it.

“Behold: a headache, one of the main symptoms of chloroform. Your face also has some red streaks, so don’t even try to deny that the chloroform is affecting you.”

“I take back my praise, I’ve decided I hate you,” she murmured, massaging her temples.

“I just remembered that I need the siren on my bike on to tell all the other bats we’ll need them at the cave...”

“Wait, no --.”

Marinette glared at Black Bat and Spoiler. The batboys had left the infirmary area for her own comfort and that was nice of them but she would really prefer if she hadn’t had to come at all.

Now she sat in some of Black Bat’s pajamas and one of Spoiler’s spare masks as they inspected her.

Her nose scrunched as Black Bat drew blood from her arm.

“This is dumb. I don’t need this.”

“We’ve been told. Humor us?” Spoiler said and, though Marinette couldn’t see her face from where she was, she knew she was rolling her eyes.

“I would if you were actually funny.”

“I think we can definitely put her down for irritability,” commented Spoiler.

Black Bat nodded and dutifully wrote it down. Traitor.

The cool metal of a stethoscope was pressed to her back and she cringed.

“Deep breaths.”

Marinette complied, however reluctantly. Might as well get all this bullshit over with as soon as possible.

… she was regretting that decision, now, though.

She gave Batman a cold look. “You can’t keep me here.”

“You need to stay so we can monitor your state overnight. You could have asphyxiated.”

“But we didn’t,” complained Red Robin, who looked just as annoyed about this as she was.

“We have lives, B,” she said.

“You weren’t going to do anything other than patrols tonight, don’t act like I’m tearing you away from something important.”

“The protection of the city is important,” Red argued.

“Neither of you would be much help tonight in the state you’re in, anyways.”

Red Robin stuck his lower lip out in a pout. Marinette gave her best puppy-dog eyes.

Batman wasn’t moved. “If you need something, Agent A will provide it.”

She blinked, eyes returning to normal in her confusion. “Who --?”

He disappeared into the shadows before she could finish the conversation, something she was, unfortunately, getting used to.

Marinette scowled at where he had last been.

Maybe she should have expected this, maybe if she had been less out of it she would have. They had given her pajamas when she’d had clothes and insisted on cleaning her old ones ‘for chloroform’. The checkup might have been a genuine checkup on her state, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered what the results were. She was always going to end up staying the night in the cold, dingy cave filled with bats.

She sighed and laid back against the stone floors. She heard Red Robin groan and looked up to see he had been locked out of the Batcomputer for the night. He leaned back in his chair and mumbled curses.

She giggled at his distress and, despite himself, a tiny grin poked at his lips.

“Want to race to see who can hack into it first?” She suggested.

He raised an eyebrow at her under his domino. “Think you can win?”

“Considering I don’t know that much about hacking, I’m going to say probably not.”

A wide smile spread across his face, now, and he waved her over. She took a seat on the desk beside the keyboard and he started teaching her everything.

Most of what he said, while technically heard, wasn’t exactly understood. She couldn’t concentrate. It was the first time she had seen him in anything but his vigilante suit and she decided that that was a crime because he looked so cute in the Batman-themed pajamas. Furthermore, the way his long hair was pushed back by a headband to keep it out of the green paste spread over his face to alleviate the chloroform’s rash reminded her of a spa day in all those movies.

And then there was the smile. It made her heart flutter in her chest because she was so used to his grins but this was just a genuine smile. He looked so passionate about the intricacies of cyber crime. She was almost sad about the domino hiding his eyes because she wanted to see the way they lit up while he explained different ways viruses could be accidentally downloaded to devices.

Basically, she was a mess for this random cute guy she worked with. She had never seen him so casual and at ease and it felt far more intimate than it maybe should.

She rested her head on her hand, nodding along as he talked about data encryption versus decoding.

Well, maybe a forced sleepover in the Batcave wouldn’t be so bad...

Tim was suffering a lot more than he would ever admit, and only a small part of it was due to chloroform.

He was going to be having a sleepover with one of his idols and he was going to be spending a large amount of the time trying not to throw up. And she could totally tell, too, why else would she be watching him so intensely? Someone kill him, please. He was so glad he had a secret identity because he didn’t know how he would manage if she thought Tim Drake-Wayne was a loser.

Granted, she was going to think Red Robin was a loser... but at least he had a second chance as Tim.

He rested his chin on the back of his chair. He had hacked into the Batcomputer already but it was a relatively dull night out on patrols and he wasn’t eager to be yelled at for showing Marinette some files on top of already hacking into them when he wasn’t supposed to.

“Wanna do something?”

She grinned. “Is there anything to do here other than train?”

“... nothing approved.”

She tipped her head to the side. “And of the things that aren’t approved?”

He matched her grin. “Well…”

And that was how he ended up setting up a movie projector in the cave so they could watch Groundhog Day. Marinette had taken to making them a pillow fort.

Duke stumbled down the steps, half awake, and raised his eyebrows at them from behind his domino. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that they had made and took a long sip before sending the two of them a wary look. “Do I want to know?”

Marinette didn’t look up from her and Tikki’s base construction. “Dunno. Do you want to watch Groundhog Day with us?”

He frowned. “Isn’t that the one where that guy in a time loop stalks his co-worker until he knows enough to make her fall in love with him?”

“Just say you don’t like romcoms and go,” Marinette irritably.

“I’m fine with romcoms, it’s just… a little messed up that he uses the knowledge he gets from being in a time loop to ensure she falls for him?”

“It’s a story about self-improvement,” Tim said, sending his brother a glare. “He grows as a person until he is worthy of her love.”

“Him learning about her is part of his arc. He starts off selfish and he ends it with a deeper appreciation for other people,” agreed Marinette.

Duke held his free hand up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Enjoy your stalker movie.”

“It’s not a --,” Tim tried to argue, but Duke was already heading back upstairs.

He huffed a little and finished setting up the computer and projector, then took a seat in the pillow fort. She poured each of them a cup of coffee, put a straw in hers to maintain her identity, and then took a seat beside him.

He took it from her with a bright smile and turned on the movie.

She rested her head on his shoulder as the happy-go-lucky music started up.

Unfortunately for them, they didn’t manage to stay awake for all that long. Duke had drugged the coffee pot.

Marinette shifted awake a while later and promptly decided that being awake sucked.

Nothing about her current situation sucked, of course. At some point during the night they had fallen asleep and now she was laying half on top of Red Robin, clinging to him like a koala. He didn’t seem all that upset about it, though, with his arm wrapped around her and his face buried in her hair.

Unfortunately, the time on the bottom right of the Batcomputer’s screen told her she didn’t have much time to enjoy it.

She started the slow process of extracting herself from him. Getting the arm off of herself was easy, getting his face away from her head was much harder (this wasn’t helped by the fact that the paste on his face had stuck to her hair).

There was one scare where she thought he was going to wake up. She pushed herself off of his chest and he took a long breath in. Marinette froze, watching his lips tighten… and then he turned over in his sleep.

Oops, apparently she’d been suffocating him a little in her sleep. Sorry, Red.

Well, at least she was free now.

She slipped out of the pillow fort and glanced at the time again.

Even less time to do what she needed. Because that’s how time works.

She sighed and called Tikki over with a tiny wave of her hand, walking over the edge of the railing. She looked down at the abyss that stretched many feet below.

Tikki couldn’t have looked more disapproving if she tried.

“It’s just a little insurance,” Marinette signed.

This didn’t make Tikki any less upset with her, but she hadn’t really expected it to. She signed for her transformation. She tied herself to the railing with her yoyo as a precaution and then hooked her legs around the railing.

And down she went.

She flexed at an awkward angle, flashlight in her mouth, and stuck a tracker to the bottom of the platform.

And, really, she wasn’t intending on using it. Like she said, it was just insurance. They had drawn blood from her earlier and she knew for a fact that it wasn’t necessary for chloroform inhalation. The only reason that made sense for that was that they wanted to check and see if she had inhaled some but they already knew that so… what did they want with her blood?

She was willing to bet it had something to do with her secret identity. And, hey, she didn’t particularly care if they knew her identity, she trusted them, but if it ever got out because of them revealing then who the bats were would be 1) revenge and 2) a good distraction.

“Hey --?”

Thank the kwamis she had tied herself to the railing because she’d been surprised enough to let go of the platform.

“Shit, sorry!” Said Red Robin.

She pulled herself back up onto the platform with his help and then collapsed on the cool stone. She spat the flashlight from her mouth. “Fuuuuuuck, don’t do that again, please.”

“Sorry,” he said again. Then he glanced back at where she had been and, momentarily, his lips pulled into a frown. “I gotta ask: what were you doing?”

“Hm?”

Shitshitshit.

“Oh, I wanted to see if there was anything down there or if it was just for The Aesthetic.”

“Why not just use your yoyo to go down?”

She shuddered. “The flashlight barely did anything. Would you want to go down into that darkness with no clue even how far down it goes?”

He seemed to accept the answer. “It’s an old iron mine. No one uses it anymore, though.”

She nodded her understanding.

She pushed herself back up to a sitting position and looked at him.

“The bats don’t get back for a while and we’re still on lockdown, so… want to do something?”

Damian was the first one to get home. Apparently he had broken a leg on patrol. This was fine (well, maybe he shouldn’t have been driving himself, but whatever).

What was not fine was that he had promptly decided to be an asshole.

Tim and Marinette had been playing Minecraft on the Batcomputer and, like all younger brothers, Damian asked to play.

And, like all older brothers, Tim barely looked up from his controller to tell him: “No.”

Damian looked to be on the verge of a meltdown.

Marinette sighed and sent Tim a tired look. “Red, don’t be mean. He’s just a kid. There’s more controllers, we can just give him one.”

“But…” He started. Damian was a terrible partner to play Minecraft with because he never helped out with anything except for the farm.

However, Marinette was looking at him expectantly. Tim bit his lip, considering.

Damian looked between the two of them and a wicked grin spread across his face and oh no.

Damian took a seat next to Marinette and gave her puppy-dog eyes (a real feat, considering the fact that he was wearing a domino and therefore his eyes were invisible). “Miss Ladybug, can’t you please make him let me play?”

Marinette gave Tim a tired look. “Red, c’mon, just for a bit.”

Damian smirked a little but, by the time Marinette turned back around, he had schooled his face back into a pout.

She handed him her controller. “You can have mine. I’ll find another for myself.”

The two watched her leave and Tim sent his younger brother a glare. “I can’t believe you would embarrass yourself this much just to play a game.”

“Anything to annoy you, ‘big bro’.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but then Marinette came back and all he could do was send him a glare behind her back.

Damian retaliated by sitting himself on Marinette’s lap. She looked down, amusement making her eyes crinkle, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge it. Damian smirked and stuck his tongue out at Tim.

That little shit.

And it continued on for hours while the three of them waited for the rest of the bats to come back. Damian would cling to Marinette in some way and he would become the bad guy for glaring at a child. He was seriously considering breaking the No Killing Rule for this kid.

Finally, though, people started coming back and apparently Damian thought it too embarrassing to do such a thing in front of more than just the person he was trying to annoy because he clambered off her lap to play just a little bit away.

Bruce was the last one to come in and he looked at his kids with the patented Batdad Glare because they had managed to drag Steph into playing with them (without much effort) and Cass into watching (with much more effort). Which meant that there were currently five family disappointments. Yay them.

Tim smiled innocently. “What? We got bored. Maybe you should let us out so this doesn’t happen again.”

“I’m keeping you here for your own safety.”

Marinette and Tim both groaned.

“I have work to do.”

“Me, too.”

Bruce didn’t relent because he was a stubborn asshole.

But that was fine. They really hadn’t expected them to. Tim glanced at Marinette and she twirled her index finger against her flat palm, the sign for ‘start’.

One flash and smoke bomb later, the two of them were running as fast as they could to his bike. He grinned as he helped his giggling friend get on and hopped up himself. Arms wrapped around him tightly and her face buried in his back. They tore out of the cave, giggling all the while.

#stalker x stalker #maribat #timinette #timari #shutterbug #timmari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake #theyre paranoid bastards your honor

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kaz11283 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5

Characters: Clint, you, Loki

Warnings: this is a SLOW burn, slight angst, fluff at the end, Loki starting shit.

Summary: life has never really bwen this complicated. Or well the life that you think you know has never really been this complicated. Living with the avengers, learning new things, yeah its gonna be a long road but what else do you have to look forward to other than the random runins with the god of mischief.

Loki Masterlist

~~~~~

It had been about a week since you had arrived at the tower and just as long as your incounter with Loki, you hadnt had much time to think about it though since you were normally nose deep in class work or training with Nat and Clint since Tony had sent you the message "If your gonna be an avenger you have to train like one, training starts at 6." You had left him on read after that, you had never been a morning person and you sure as hell wasnt about to start now.

"Alright y/n, lets try you on the bow today." Clint smiled walking into the arena where most of your training took place.

"After I finish this." You said pointing to your coffee. "I swear, you would think that after saving lives you would want to sleep in." You grumbled.

"Bad guys dont sleep, we dont get to sleep." Clint said wiping down a few of his practice arrows.

"You didnt get back till like 3 this morning. Im really starting to wonder if you sleep at all." You tossed your cup away and got up starting to do your stretches.

"Get over here so I can show you how to hold this thing." He saod holding out the bow.

"I know how to use a bow, I was in archery in high school. Top of my team." You grabbed the bow feeling the cool metal in your hand. His bow was diffrent than what you was use to, as light as air almost were yours had been heavy.

"This bow is probably a little different than what your use to. The metal is vibranium, the strings are made of some type of industrial woven string that Tony invinted in his lab. Might be a littlw hard for you to pull back." He smiled looking at the bow like a child.

"It is very beautiful." You examined it looking down the sights has you pulled the string back easily. "Absolutly magnificent peice of weaponry." You looked over at him and seen that he was staring at you wide eyed. "What?"

"No one else has ever been able to draw the string back like that." You let the string gently go back into place amd handed it back to him.

"I told you, I was in archery while I was in high school."

"Theres no way that someone no matter how skilled they are can pull that back."

"Well if your forgetting, apperantly Im not from here either."

"Yup almost forgot, Asguardian. Anyways. You know how to use one of these so lets set up a few targets and get to work. Tony wants to try you out on a few different things, eval you, and see what suits you best. Im already leaning toward you being good at the bow."

After he talked you through some of the basics that you had informed him you knew and he insisted on stating that it was 'mandatory' you were finally able to pick up one of the training bows.

"These bows suck. Stark has all the money in the world and he buys walmart brand bows? If you pull this one back to many times the string will break. Why cant I just use yours?" You roll your eyes looking back at Clint.

"My bow, my baby. If you want ine bad enough you can start off at the bottom and work your way up. You have a card why dont you buy one?" He countered, just then the foor opened drawing your attention.

"Sorry, didnt realize that the area was occupied today, I just wanted to get a few throws in woth the new daggers Stark and Banner decided to enhance for me. Wanted to make sure that they wouldnt bloe up in my face." Loki said walking over to the bay next to you and Clint. You hadnt had a moment alone with the trickster since in the hall weeks ago and now he was here acting as of nothingbhad happened. You looked down at the daggers that he had laid out.

"Wow, those are beautiful." You noticed that not only had he laid down two simple green handeled knives but he had also laid down a set of electric blue ones and a set of gold handle ones engraved with ancient symbols and roses with the stems winding down the hilt. "May I?" You asked leaning down to get a closer look.

"Of course y/n, you are the one that gave me those." He answered casually. Your breathing hitched and you turned to look at him.

"Thats not funny Loki."

"I dont know what your talking about. I was simpl-" he started before you cut him off.

"You know damn good and well what I am talking about. What did you expect? Me to pick it up and everything come barreling back to me? Here I'll do you one even better." You stormed up to the daggers and grabbed one of the gold ones up throwing it at the target on the far side of the room. You had expected it to fall short and clink to the floor but you never hears it fall. When you looked at the target you noticed you had hit the middle.

Clints jaw had dropped as he was looking around the wall to see what you had been yelling about. Loki looked at you with a smug expression. "I assume they must have had knife throwing classes at the school you attended as well."

"Shut up. Clint are we done, I have some studying for class that I really need to do." You looked at clint as he knodded still awestruck. "Thanks, I'll talk with Tony about getting a better bow for me to practice with." You took off toward your room.

Later after you had taken a hot shower and changed into some leggings and a baggy shirt you decided to go to the one place in the tower that you had decided to claim as your own little study corner. It was located on of of the high up floors that happened to be more of an observation deck, you could watch the team leave on missions, see the ocean, and watch some of the most beautiful sun sets that you had seen. You had notice while checking the place out that there was a fairly large window seat that you could spead your work out on as you looked out over the city, this small part of the tower was your little hid away, you hadnt seen any other member of the team up here so you figured when you needed the alone time you could come here. It had seemed to work for the most part until today.

You notice the shadow of the figure standing over you before looking up into the eyes of Lokis confused ones, you had noticed his lips moving before rolling your eyes and taking out your noise canceling ear pods.

"What do you want Loki?" You sighed placing them back into the chsrging dock.

"Well if you hadnt had those things in you would have heard me tell you that I was sorry for earlier." He sassed crossing his arms.

"How did you find me? No one really bothers coming up here." You pulled your legs under your chin and covering you feet with the throw that you had brought up with you this time.

"The AI system has no bounderies when it comes to privacy, it can tell you were anyone is in this god forsaken place." He responded. "May I sit?"

"And if I say no?"

"I'll sit anyways." He shrugged.

"Then what is the point in asking?" You leaned forward moving your papers and books out of the way. He reached down and grabbed a few of the papers to help you.

"Your doing a paper on Shakespeare?" He asked as he sat down reading over the page.

"Umm, yeah. Part of my agreement to come here is so that I can finish up my collage classes. Drama and Art Major." He hamded the paper back to you so that you could stick it in your binder. He gave you a look that you were use to getting from him. "Don't say it Loki." You out your hand up to stop him before he could even open his mouth.

"I wasn't going to say anything." He held his hands up.

"Hum, interesting. The god of lies actually sucks at lying. I should remember that." You smiled. This was the first time you had actually felt half way confortable around him.

"I could never lie to you." He smiled back. "You have always had a knack for seeing right through me."

"I wish you wouldnt do that." You sighed leaning your heas agints the window behind you.

"Do what exactly?" He askes mirroring your position.

"Where you mention something about my past. Its annoying and it breaks my heart."

"Well Dove, how do you think I feel? The worst part about it for me is that while you remember nothing I am stuck remembering everything. Your past, my past, our past together. It truly is the worst pain that I have ever felt. To have something that you have wanted for so long in front of you and they dont even want you back." He sighed looking out the window.

"Loki," you crossed your legs and placed your elbows on your knees. "I have never said that I didnt want you. I just dont know what is what."

"So you do want me?" He laughted.

"That is not what I meant and you know it." You leanded back again. "Tell me about us. About how you and Thor know me." He eyes lite up.

Chapter 6

Tag list:

@high-functioning-lokipath

@serpentargo

@drbaureid

@poetic-fiasco

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

@rosaline-black

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@natandersonnla

@delightfulheartdream

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wisteriawatching · 2 years

Note

🐣🐨🦔🐢🐄🐸🐧🦭

DID YOU LIKE MY COUNTDOWN!? That was fun! I had fun. That was actually more fun than I thought it would be! There were too many good posts to name. It was very fun reading all your comments and theories. Though side note: animal anon has no problem with people joining her BUT it must be animals and it must not mess with my countdown. No statues! Animal anon does animals, not statues. Side side note: can someone settle the debate of if that emoji is a hedgehog or a porcupine? Because I have no idea. Side note side note side note: sorry if you got multiple asks in a day...my system isn't perfected yet so sometimes I send two (or three) because I forgot I sent one and didn't want to accidently miss anyone (also sorry if i did miss you, still perfecting the system, no one has been animal anon blacklisted, i promise!)

Anyway, GUESS WHAT TODAY IS!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 It's been one year since I started animal anon! How exciting is that?! Phew, what a year we've had together! I mean what better way to start this second year than some chaos since that's how animal anon started to begin with! I will admit, it was slightly stressful coming up with something to meet the occasion of this event. I hope the countdown and this post live up to it. No, I'm not going to reveal myself just yet.. maybe that will be for year 2...😏😏. BUT I will give you some fun facts about me! So let's see; first, I'm from the Midwest (so not Canadian, but close so I do have a slight accent), but I currently live in the TriState area. Second, I am a MASSIVE theater nerd. No, seriously I have been to 21 shows since Broadway reopened in September and I'm actually going to my 22nd tonight. I don't know if this makes that fact better or worse, but I've really only been to about 12 different show because out of those 22, 10 of those are one specific show. Third, I am fluent in German and English. Though, I suck at writing in German, I never learned how to, so don't ask me to do that please. Fourth, my favorite color is red, so you can guess my favorite Taylor album (and coincidently also the show I've been to see 10 times on Broadway...). Fifth, I love to talk A LOT if you couldn't tell by the essays I send yall. And lastly, I can also confirm I am not Taylor...but I will say that I do share something very important with her... tell me your guesses down below as to what very important thing you think Taylor and I have in common, and I'll send some extra animals to whomever I see gets it right first!

So contuining on with my dissertation here, this week I have been trying to figure out a prompt to live up to this occasion. As I already mentioned, my system isn't perfect! And I've been thinking a lot about community lately and how that's been lacking for so many because of Covid. So what I want yall to do is if you get this dissertation of mine, please send a message, post, anon, whatever you want to at least 1 other blog (though you can do more), telling them something you like about them and giving them an animal emoji! That way we can keep spreading the love all day long to as many as possible! 🥰

As always, you are all brilliant, kind, worthy, beautiful and as this past week has shown, hilarious and unique human beings. No seriously, some of your posts had me kneeling over in laughter. If you would so like, you can tag #animalanon so I and everyone can read all your lovely posts! IM STARTING EARLY TODAY SO WE CAN PARTY ALL DAY LONG BECAUSE I LOVE YALL SO MUCH 🎊 🦥🦁🐯

Wow okay I have several thoughts which I shall liveblog:

I did not think I was relevant enough to recieve animal anon asks!

According to the unicode it is a hedgehog

This may be the longest ask I have ever received

Animal anon uses she/her pronouns... I am taking note

omg wow wait we're getting so much info here

I really want to know what show you saw ten times...

Wait omg you just alluded to it; I am doing such good active reading

Do you and Taylor share a birthday?

This is p cute and I do love how you've given people something to talk about!

I will send some kind animal anons when I'm off work later

Thank you for visiting me on this special day!

#animal anon

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mulletcal · 4 years

Text

behind the scenes - calum hood blurb.

description: you’re helping cal film the wildflower video, but you’re very distracting.

a/n: me? writing smut for the second time? shocking. hopefully it’s alright!!

warnings: smut, oral (female receiving)

word count: 1.5k

--------

The hardest thing for Calum during this lockdown was not having the ability to see his bandmates whenever and wherever he pleased. Sure, he had you, but it wasn’t the same as Ashton showing up upwards of five times a week with some new pastry he learned how to make, or some new vocal group a fan tweeted to him.

It bummed him out more when the shoot for the Wildflower video had been cancelled - he knew it was necessary, but the concept that they had was so fun and nothing was going to top it - that was, until Andy and Sarah informed them that they were learning animation, and they would be sending a sanitized green screen to his house for him to film in front of.

Sheepishly, he asked you to help him film the video - or at least provide some direction while he propped his phone onto a makeshift stand in the living room. You were more than happy to help, making him giggle when you would raise your eyebrows at him suggestively on occasion. After the first few takes, you set his phone down, propping it up just so, just because you wanted to bop along in the background without making the frame shaky.

Calum grew increasingly distracted as you did so, though, because you were doing lewd gestures, continuously mouthing the words ‘cum’ and ‘fuck’ at the appropriate parts - despite Calum’s statement about the song being about “abundance”, you found it hilarious to do so anyways. You were sure he was going to crack soon, seeing the look on his face that was his tell when he was up to something.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” Calum chuckled, running his hands over his face.

“Dunno what you mean darling,” You teased, stepping around the stand and wrapping your arms around his neck. Beginning to trail kisses along his jaw, you felt the muscle tense under your lips.

“Fuck, the camera is still goin’,” Calum muttered, grabbing his phone, placing it close to his face in what can only be described as his ‘hammerhead’ pose before murmuring, “Andy, I know you know this - but do not put that in.”

After he stopped recording, Calum tossed his phone onto the couch, turning to you with a smirk on his lips.

“We’re not having sex near this green screen it has to go to Ashton after this,” You warned, yelping in surprise when Calum, in one swift motion, wrapped his arms around your thighs and lifted you over his shoulder.

“Don’t you fret, flower, we’re gonna need some space for you to spread out.”

You figured he’d take you to the bedroom, easier access to lay you out completely, but to your surprise you were met with the cold marble of the kitchen island against your thighs. Once you were eye to eye, Calum gave you a wicked grin, his fingers ghosting up your calves, continuing the trail of his fingers until they were at the hem of your - well, his - shirt.

“Couldn’t wait til we reached the bedroom, could you?” You asked, leaning back on your hands.

“Baby, all our best meals are had in the kitchen. This should be no exception,” Calum’s lips worked their way down your jaw, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck.

His fingers met the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down and helping you lift your hips to do so. Rather than just tossing them to the floor, Calum tucked them into his pocket, making you laugh slightly. You knew he’d find them later and you’d be back here tonight. Well, you hoped in the actual bedroom instead - the marble was cold against your bare skin.

Calum definitely took his time working his way down, causing you to squirm as you grew more impatient. His hands were firmly on your thighs, seemingly holding you down so you wouldn’t get any wise ideas.

After what seemed like years, he pushed your legs apart. His lips continued to work your neck, but he brought a hand up to press his fingers against your clit, rubbing small circles causing you to gasp.

“Cal, please,” you whined, hips lurching forwards to get more friction somehow.

“Please what, flower. Tell me what you like,” Calum smirked against your skin, slowing the movement of his fingers.

“Uh-huh, no. You don’t get to use your own lyrics against me. I won’t hesitate to walk away and finish the job myself,” Your words were threatening, which you knew would get him going - but you hoped it would get him going in the direction you wanted him.

Calum pulled back from your lips, and moved his hand away as well, “My baby thinks she can threaten me, huh? Did you forget the last time you tried that?”

You shivered at the memory, but bit your lip as you looked at him through your lashes, “Please baby, I want your mouth.”

His face went from a relatively serious one, to breaking into a cheshire cat like grin before he dropped to his knees, “That’s a good girl.”

Light kisses were pressed up your legs, Calum going back to taking his time - but you were grateful he was getting closer to where you wanted him. Parting your legs even further so he could take all of you in.

“So ready for me, so needy,” He hummed, sucking a mark into your thigh. You chewed on your lower lip, always finding his need to mark you incredibly sexy.

Calum looked up at you one last time, taking your legs and putting them over his shoulders before he dove in, plump lips attaching to your clit, and you felt him flatten his tongue against it. A moan escaped your lips as he worked, alternating between circling his tongue around your clit, and sucking it.

“Baby,” you whispered softly, “More, please. Please,” You begged, entangling your fingers into his blonde locks.

Your legs tightened against his shoulders when you felt his fingers press at your entrance, about to rock your hips to encourage more; but his opposite hand was holding you down, and you let out a frustrated groan. You were rewarded shortly after though when he finally pushed two of his fingers fully inside, curling them slightly as he did.

Calum moaned before he pulled his lips away, his fingers pumping into you while he looked up at you to see your reaction. He loved to watch you, the way your lips would roll between your teeth, or the way you would close your eyes, brows furrowed in concentration as you tried to hold out on your orgasm.

“You’re so stunning baby, love how you look right now. Should eat all my meals here,” He teased, dipping his head down and delivering small kitten licks against you. Adding a third finger, Calum no longer held you back while he worked his fingers into you, reattaching his lips to your clit.

“Fuck Cal,” You moaned, tightening your fingers into his hair which made him moan. His moan sent shocks through your system, goosebumps raising on your skin as you got closer to the edge. “So close baby.” You were gasping for air at this point, hips working on their own accord, rolling up to meet his tongue and fingers.

“C’mon baby, it’s okay,” He encouraged, curling his fingers and applying more pressure against your most sensitive spot. Calum worked his tongue against you with a new fervour, enjoying the soft whines that were emitting from your lips while he did.

You couldn’t hold back any longer, hips stilling as you reached your peak, Calum continuing his motions while you rode out your orgasm. Releasing his hair when you came down finally, he used his tongue to clean you up before standing once again to his full height.

“M’gonna need you finish filming,” You spoke in between pants, tugging the front of his mesh shirt so you could kiss him.

In the heat of the moment, you both hadn’t heard Calum’s phone letting out a continuous stream of vibrations. Furrowing his brows when he realized his phone was going off, he headed back into the living room, picking up his phone to see Ashton’s name flash across the caller I.D.

“Hey Ash, what’s up?” Calum asked when he answered, wiping at his lips and tossing you a wink.

“Wow, fucking finally. Thought you had fallen into your pool or some shit. You almost done with the green screen? Andy said he called you but you didn’t answer.”

“I’m fine! We were just busy filming,” His excuse was met with a sigh on the other line.

“Mate, you’re filming this shit on your phone. You’re gonna have to think of a better excuse next time. Finish up so we can get this shit done. And I mean the video, love you bye.”

Calum returned the sentiment, chuckling as he hung up and turned to you, “So. Next time I’m gonna have to wait till after I finish filming.”

tag list: @haikucal @talkfastromance4 @softbabiestan @boyfriend-cal @calum-uncrowned @wildflowerirwin @irwindoll @gosh-im-short @atlcalm @thesubtweeter @heavenisapeach @ridingcthood @loveroflrh @wokeupinjapanisabop @mantlereid @inlovehoodx

#calum hood #calum hood smut #calum hood blurb #calum hood fanfiction #5 seconds of summer fanfiction

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childrenofmeyneth · 3 years

Text

Mother Dearest

Oydis sits back, a smile on her face as she turns to Miqol. “Well, they’re ready for life, now.”

“Indeed,” Miqol chuckles in reply, running his hand through the hair of the children. “What shall we name them, then? They’re going to need names if they’re to have life.”

“True,” Oydis hums, placing the wrench she was holding down on a nearby bench. “How about Egil and Vanea? I’ve thought about this a lot, and I think those are my favorites.”

“Those are wonderful names,” Miqol nods. “I’m sure Lady Meyneth would agree.”

Fic written about what if Egil and Vanea had a Mama. Note the tags for Major Character Death and Graphic Depictions of Violence

Ao3 Link

Oydis sits back, a smile on her face as she turns to Miqol. “Well, they’re ready for life, now.”

“Indeed,” Miqol chuckles in reply, running his hand through the hair of the children. “What shall we name them, then? They’re going to need names if they’re to have life.”

“True,” Oydis hums, placing the wrench she was holding down on a nearby bench. “How about Egil and Vanea? I’ve thought about this a lot, and I think those are my favorites.”

“Those are wonderful names,” Miqol nods. “I’m sure Lady Meyneth would agree.”

“Indeed,” Oydis leans a bit closer to Miqol. “But no need to butter me up. I already agreed to use my old parts to help build you some children, Miqol!”

“Well, they’re your children too,” he points out.

“You’re dodging my statement, Miqol.” She accuses, poking him uselessly in the side.

Miqol lets out a hearty laugh. “Some may say dodging statements and questions is what I do best.”

“Let’s hope our kids don’t pick up on that from you, then,” she makes a face. “I want my children to be honest and forward.”

“I want that, too, that’s why you’re the mother,” Miqol replies. “Gives them a chance to take after you.”

“Once again trying to butter me up,” she clicks her tongue, putting each child’s pod under her arms. “Come on, enough of that. We have children to welcome to the world.”

“Egil won’t stop crying,” Oydis holds him on her lap, frowning. “Any idea what’s wrong?”

Miqol is currently holding Vanea, trying to stop her little wails that started in reply to her brother’s. “Not a clue, I’m afraid. Too bad he’s not old enough to talk yet, he could just tell us.”

“Babies don’t work that way and you know that,” Oydis clicks her tongue and bounces him a bit. “Do we have any Spicy Banana? It might be teething.”

“How would Spicy Banana help with that?” Miqol asks, brow furrowing.

“Shyves used to lather that on Linada’s gums and she’d calm down,” Oydis explains. “Doesn’t hurt to try, right?”

Miqol nods. “I suppose not, let me go see. Come on then, Vanea.”

Miqol moves his chair towards their supplies and looks through the cupboards. Spicy Banana… They should have a few, right? Every family on Mechonis kept a supply of any naturally occurring fruit or flower, in case they needed it for a medication or a ritual…

But then it hits Miqol. Isn’t Egil a little young to be teething already? He knows he started early as well, but that was how he ended up like this. Growing too fast and unable to stop, even when he should have. Becoming large enough his Growth Module had to be outright removed or he wouldn’t have been able to support his own internal systems.

Egil’s may have been malfunctioning in the same way his had. He didn’t like the idea, but he supposes that’s something to bring up to Oydis later. Maybe ask Meyneth for guidance on what to do… Maybe an early removal of the module, before he’s more than a young adult? Maybe an assurance it’s not as bad as Miqol’s had been…

Aha, Spicy Banana! Miqol pulls it from the cupboard and moves back towards Oydis. “One should be enough, yes?”

“Plenty,” Oydis takes it from him and places it on the nearby table, smashing it with one fist brought down upon it.

She takes some on her finger and gently spreads it across Egil’s gums, the baby still wailing and sobbing in her arms. Soon enough, it's in place, and shortly after that Egil lulls himself to sleep with coos. Looks like it was indeed his gums, then.

Good to know what it was, not-so-fun to know he may have inherited Miqol’s growth malfunction.

Vanea calms down too, no longer upset by the sounds of her brother’s crying. She falls asleep in her father’s arms and soon the parents are placing them back in their pods, closing them gently.

“Good,” Oydis smiles a bit. “I was worried we’d be up all night.”

“We’ve had plenty of sleepless nights because of these children already, hm?” Miqol chuckles as he and Oydis take the children back to their room. “They’re quite the handful.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she smiles. “Lady Meyneth says struggle helps make success all the sweeter.”

“I suppose she’s right, as she often is,” Miqol nods in agreement. “Let’s just hope they can start telling us what’s wrong, soon.”

“We’ve still got a hundred years or so before that, Miqol, don’t get your hopes up.”

Vanea is six hundred when her mother takes her out of her pod to brush her hair. It feels nice, as it's starting to get longer and gets so tangled in her pod, but… She cannot help but feel so awkward. She loves her mother, she really does, but the attention is so weird to her.

“Your hair is so nice, Vanea,” Mother says. “We should do things like this more often.”

“Why?” Vanea asks, a bit confused. “Father is always so busy, how are you not?”

Mother works at the Shrine, she speaks to Lady Meyneth often. She’s even taken Egil and Vanea before, and Vanea noticed she had a lot to do. More than a lot, actually, if you ask Vanea. Speaking directly to their Lady was a lot of work!

But here she is, taking the time to take Vanea out of her pod to brush her hair. Hair that almost no one would see, given the fact she’s always in that pod. Vanea just doesn’t get it --Father never does that. He’s honest about how busy he is.

“I have an important job, but my kids are even more important,” Mother replies with a hum. “Your father… he leads us, so maybe he can’t take as much time off as I do, but that’s okay, right?”

“Mmm,” she nods as Mother continues to brush out her hair. She still doesn’t quite get it, but she guesses it’s because she’s so young.

(She just wishes Father would make time too, if Mother wasn’t lying about children being more important than work).

“Relax, dear,” Mother speaks again with a laugh. “I have plenty of time to spend time with you and your brother! I’m not ignoring work to do this, I promise.”

“I believe you,” Vanea says, lying a bit.

“Good,” Mother places a kiss on her cheek. “You’re always such a good girl!”

“Thank you,” she says softly, wishing she felt like she had actually done something to earn the praise.

“An important part of being a disciple of Lady Meyneth is understanding not only her words but also what we can do for her,” Mother speaks to Egil as he kneels next to her at the shrine. “She tells us what she will do and what she needs from us, but we must understand there is more than what she says that we can do.”

Egil nods, having just recently moved from his pod, earlier than most. Mother is teaching him the basics of what is expected of an adult, which is more than he could ever expect. He listens and nods, a bit surprised.

Lady Meyneth, the soul of their Titan and the goddess of them all… Sometimes, there were things the Machina could do for her, things she did not even guide them to do? It leaves him a bit in awe, realizing there was more he could do.

“Wow,” he manages to breathe out. “Disciples of Lady Meyneth are amazing, Mother… You’re amazing.”

She laughs a bit and pinches his cheek. “Trying to soften us up to get into the group, are you?”

“No!” Egil responds, his cheeks flushing a deep grey. “I really think that.”

“I know,” she pulls her hand away. “I was just trying to tease you, darling.”

He rubs his cheek. “How does Father let you get away with that?”

Probably had something to do with what a doormat his father could be, but… He wouldn’t say that. He knew Mother would be disappointed in him if he did, and would insist they should try and get along. Egil just didn’t feel like they could, though. They were like oil and water, no matter how hard they tried.

Vanea enjoyed her time with Father, anyway, wasn’t that enough? The two of them were basically two halves of one child, so it was fine if only one of them liked him.

Though Vanea herself may not agree with that. It seemed the ladies in his family were both the type to nag him about his relationship (or lack thereof) with his father. What was with that, anyway?

“Your father teases just as much,” she points out with a smile. “That’s part of what you don’t like about him.”

“It’s annoying,” he weakly defends, looking up at the shrine. “I prefer things like this, anyway…”

Egil could see the blood, see the innards of his people spread out around him. He could see the beasts, Telethia Arglas once called them, swooping down and destroying them. Sucking the ether from them.

He could see the way they fall, the way their heads are snapped off without an issue. The way the claws tear into their sturdy chests as if they are made of Bionis flesh.Could see as their cores are torn out.

He could see the oily blood on his hand as he pressed his hand to his mother’s side. As he tried to keep her organs from spilling out of the wound a Telethia had left on her. Tried to keep her in one piece as her side gaps open.

“Egil,” her voice is weak as she reaches out. “I’ve always been so proud of you. You and Vanea.”

“Mother,” his voice shakes. “Don’t talk like that. Lady Meyneth will save us, and then… then Linada can patch you up. It’s going to be fine…”

Her hand touches the side of his face and she smiles. She smiles and her breath rattles out in a way it shouldn’t . It’s full of pain and struggle, and Egil wants to beg her to save her energy. If she doesn’t. If she doesn’t…

She’ll die.

“Mother, please…” His voice cracks as she gives him one last smile.

“I love you, Egil. You’ll always be my little boy…”

Her hand drops from his face and hits the floor of the building with a thud. He stares, things not registering. She couldn’t be dead… No, she couldn’t be… He refuses to believe it. He just needs to put the blood back, and she’ll be fine.

Put it back… put it back…

“Egil,” Vanea’s footsteps and voice break him from his daze as she comes to a stop next to him, kneeling. “Mother…!”

She lets out a sob, hand covering her mouth. It hits him fully then, when his little sister sees the truth. Sees that their mother died in this attack, died to Zanza and his plans. Died to someone Egil thought he could trust.

His hands are covered in her blood as he lets out a wail that mixes with the screams of his people.

Vanea’s hands shake as she goes through Egil’s belongings, knowing how wrong it is. She shouldn’t be doing this… Anything he’s stored away, he’s done so for a reason, hadn’t he? She has no reason to dig things up…

But he’s been changing so much, he’d let everyone leave him. Everyone but her… She would never, could never, do that to him. She couldn’t imagine it, especially not after what happened during the attack.

She pulls away so many things from life before. Things that once brought him so much happiness… How had things changed so much, she wonders? How can all this hurt him now? She wishes she understood.

Finally, she gets to the last item… She picks it up and feels herself just about crying. Of all the things he could no longer look at, she had not thought of the image of their family she hadn’t seen in years.

There they are, before either had finished their headpieces. They were smiling, arms around each other’s shoulders and grins on their faces. Father looks so happy and proud, likely in the middle of a laugh. And Mother… Mother looked so alive, just as proud as Father.

Tears prick at her eyes as she places it back, unable to look at it any longer. She supposes that is her answer. How these things can hurt him, how they can bring no happiness anymore.

Sometimes, she realizes, the past is better left in the past.

She just wishes Egil had left more of it behind.

#mod's fic #xenoblade #xenoblade chroncicles #This world is in disarray (Egil)#If that is to be my fate (Vanea)#Accept my request (Miqol)#General OC tag #since Oydis isnt an Official I Will Keep Her OC at this point

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 years

Text

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,544 Words

Summary: Twin trouble and the bakusquad plans to take Touya out shopping.

Warnings: Child Abuse Mention, Death Mention, Homophobia Mentions, Cursing, Injury Mention, Immunocompromised Character, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Notes: Touya’s clothes include links to what they look like.

Hair Dye Buddies: Chapter 3

Learning the basics with his new quirk took to him instantly as he used ways he'd used to watch their father train Shoto with his quirks. The snow felt so calm under his fingertips, the naturality of it far better than the fire that he was born with.

By the end of the class, several snowmen and snow angels had been made and he was very proud with his quick advancement. Everyone seemed happy with his quirk and it made him so eager to please them.

"Tomorrow's training will be more fighting with quirks. I need to get you all ready for the upcoming licensing exam." Aizawa told them on their walk back to class. "Yes, you will be included, Touya. I've spoken to Nezu and all you'll need to do is catch yourself up in your studies and your quirk training, which should be no problem given you take to things so easily. Though yours would be temporary." Aizawa told him.

"This doesn't mean you all will be hurrying to spar with each other tonight, I will put you in detention if you do. Touya, you're allowed to tinker around with your quirk under teacher supervision if you want since, even if you've taken hold of it quickly, it's still brand new to you." Aizawa told him.

Of course, Sir." He nodded, trailing with Shoto.

"So you're officially a UA student, Touya." He was giddy, he'd always wanted to attend UA but father forced him into a no-name school with barely any accountability for their students and had even listed him under their mother's maiden name to keep him away.

"How are Fuyumi and Natsuo?" Touya asked abruptly. Shoto looked bewildered at the sudden conversation shift. Then he realized it might be because Shoto was never allowed around them. He might not know their names, even.

"Sorry, I know you're not even that close to them, us three were so clumped together and you were so much later we never actually bonded together as siblings or anything and you were probably forced away once I was gone so you probably never even knew them." Touya sighed.

"Actually, we're pretty close now. I guess we all realized losing you meant we needed to stick together as much as possible. We even have a group chat without dad. We call it the Endeavor Hate Chat." Shoto smiled and Touya laughed.

"Oh, now you have to show me how much you bash the old man. How old's he now, 45, 46?"

"46. Just turned it like two months ago." Touya gave a chuckle.

"Wow, talk about the timing of that stupid deaging. It's the same time in the year too. I'm starting to think someone put a spell on me like Sleeping Beauty. Come back the same age five years later to torment my little brother." Touya teased.

"I'm not so little anymore. I'm a week older than you." Shoto teased back.

"Oh come on, it's not by much!" Touya exclaimed, getting the class to snicker at their petty argument of age.

"Anyway, how are Natsu and Yumi? You never answered." Touya reminded him.

"Well, Fuyumi's a kindergarten teacher's aid, she's got a secret girlfriend or two and a secret boyfriend too. That woman is pulling too many people at this point. I really have tried to get her to talk to a therapist about her mommy and daddy issues but it isn't really working as you can tell. Natsuo is in college still, becoming a nurse. He has a husband now, they eloped not this summer but the summer before. He's really happy. Both are doing okay. Yumi says she wants kids in the future still and I'm hoping Dad doesn't latch onto it and try to pick her a husband or something to keep 'good quirks' in the family."

Touya smiled knowing his now-older siblings were happy in life. It was all he'd hoped they'd get when he was younger, he couldn't believe they got their happy endings despite his lack of involvement.

"Me, though, I'm going to be a hero just to save people. Unlike his goals for me, I want to be a hero that's a good person as well as a good hero so he won't be giving me the title of Number One, he'll be handing his mantle to part of the next generation he didn't make, likely. And he has a rude awakening if he thinks he'll get his grandchildren to succeed him." Shoto smiled deviously.

"Why?" Touya asked.

"Because he doesn't know I'm gay yet and I won't be giving him biological grandchildren. I plan to adopt kids in need instead. The only children he'll have are Fuyumi's and yours." Shoto proudly stated.

"You say this like I'm not gay too. I'm not having kids." Touya cackled.

"Yumi's got a whole next family generation on her hands then. All the boys can now wipe their hands clean of the reproduction process." Shoto was trying hard not to laugh, so was Touya.

"I ain't never seen four straight siblings. Always three of 'em gotta be gay." Midoriya announced, bursting the whole class into laughter besides the grape-looking gremlin.

"Ew, gays!" The juice gremlin exclaimed, interrupting everyone's fun.

"Shut the fuck up, Mineta." Aizawa instructed the grape gremlin.

"Yes, sir." Mineta agreed.

"I'm glad you ended up bonding with them. I remember being so worried when you were born because the three of us had each other and you were five years younger than us. I was always worried you'd never bond with us."

"Well, you guys were triplets. It's a different bond, I guess." Shoto sighed. "I just know that they were devastated when they heard you disappeared. We all thought you'd run away because the old man never said anything about kicking you out. We thought you'd died on the streets. You have a tombstone in Mom's garden still." Shoto told him.

"They always did joke about burying me in the yard." Touya laughed.

"I'm so glad you get another chance at life. Once we're able to tell Natsuo and Fuyumi, they'll be overjoyed." Shoto butted his shoulder with his own.

"I hope they'll be happy." Touya smiled a bit.

The day was easy after that. He wasn't all that behind in his studies, even excelled a English. During a hero lesson, he got sent to Recovery Girl, who tried to figure out the quirk that caused this and how it worked.

They'd ultimately ended up that this was more than likely permanent now that things had changed from how his life had originally went, especially once he told her of Ryuu and the quirk change. Then she forcefully healed the cuts and burns on his hands and arms from Ryuu and sent him back to class for Math.

The school day was over before he knew it and he was following Bakugou back to the dorms and he went to his own room, it was still bare, just a bed and a desk and a television set up in the corner.

"Hey, Cotton Candy, we're going out, you wanna come?" Bakugou asked.

"I'd be in my school uniform. Aren't we not supposed to wear them when we're not on campus?" He asked.

"We're the same size, just take some clothes. Mina wants to go clothes shopping anyway." Bakugou told him.

"Okay, but I don't have any money." Touya reminded him.

"IcyHot already agreed to let you take your dad's credit card. We're buying you clothes whether you like it or not." Bakugou told him, shoving some clothes at him and he fumbled a second but held them while Bakugou closed his door. "Get dressed! We're leaving in like twenty minutes once Pikachu does his makeup."

Touya was grateful Bakugou had handed him black jeans with cuts on the knees and a baggy black sweater with a skull on it, the comfort of it was astronomical. He put back on the black boots he'd shown up to UA in last night and headed out to Mina in the men's hallway, wolf whistling at him and Sero laughing telling him he fit right in.

"Question, does anyone have a mask I can borrow? My immune system is pretty weak, I got a lot of the weaker genetics in the family so I get sick pretty easy."

"Yeah, man, Shoji has a ton of extra masks." Sero told him. Kirishima was already knocking on Shoji's door for him.

"Hey, man, can Touya borrow a mask, his immune system sucks and we're taking him out shopping."

"Sure, I have some smaller ones my sister sent me a while back that don't fit me." Shoji rummaged a moment and then handed Kirishima a few masks with Halloween themed patterns on them. "Have fun out in the world, Touya." Shoji reminded him.

"I will, thank you, Shoji!" Touya smiled brightly at him as he put on the black mask with the orange and yellow jack'o'lantern pattern.

Being handed Endeavor's credit card by Shoto and told to go wild at the mall was like a fever dream when he used to have to ask and beg for months for new things and then he was made to work himself to the bone for it.

Taglist: @lgbtforeverything @rin-tanaka @everythingisstardust

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quillingyousoftly · 3 years

Text

life is far away from fair

Written for Day 1 of Rumrollins Week! The prompts are: Deception/”The sooner we forget what happened, the better.” "Deception" is only there if you squint 😛

AO3 link for tags and whatnot.

Jack quickly became one of the patrons Brock had learned to recognize from far away. Tall and wide-shouldered, with sharp cheekbones and deep green eyes, he was rather memorable. He first came to The Hydra on last year's Halloween with a group of friends, and Brock immediately noticed him. After that, he would show up every week, alone, take a seat at the bar, and ask for a scotch.

What Brock didn't immediately notice was his scent: herbal and fresh, delicate and clearly omega. It was rare for an omega to not smell like a flower garden or a bakery, but looking at Jack, who appeared so much like an alpha he passed the selection at the alpha-only club, it fit him. Still, it was annoying whenever another patron smelled him, looked around, and then gave Brock a suspicious look. It sucked to be mistaken for an omega with the actual omega sitting nearby, clueless. It didn't bother Brock enough to kick Jack out, though; his job was tending to the bar, not selection. As long as Jack didn't cause any trouble, Brock had no reason to call security.

Despite Jack showing up consistently for a year and spending a night at the other side of the bar, sipping casually on his blended scotch, Brock didn't get much more than his name, approximate age (early thirties) and line of work (IT). Brock had a handful more patrons he knew better though shorter. People tended to open up to strangers about their problems. Jack was the opposite; most of the time, he'd sit turned away from Brock, people-watching. He'd also look at the stage whenever they had exotic dancers over, and Brock decided perhaps Jack preferred other omegas--which still didn't explain what he was doing, drinking in an alpha-only club. It wasn't like he was going to pick up an omega here.

Brock spent months pretending he wasn't curious about Jack, but even when he finally admitted to himself--and his various friends--he was fascinated by his person, it still wasn't enough to actually ask. At the end of the night, all that mattered was he paid for the drinks he ordered. The loud EBM filling the club didn't make it easy to converse anyway.

Things changed one Friday before Christmas; the club would close early, and Brock expected it to be a quiet night. The DJ wasn't in, a softer music seeped from the speakers, and the lights were on. Brock liked those kinds of nights the most, when he could just relax behind the bar and occasionally pause Netflix and take out one AirPod to pour someone a drink.

Only a handful of people came, and Brock wasn't sure if he should expect Jack, but he saw his tall figure soon after opening. He poured him a scotch before he even reached the bar and sat down, ready to go back to watching Prison Break when he heard, "The cheapest bourbon you have."

Brock paused, looked at Jack, his unusually unruly hair, reddened and circled eyes and five o-clock shadow, then at the glass he'd already poured him.

"If it's simply about money, we can pretend this is the cheapest bourbon I have. Just this once," he said, sliding the glass closer to him.

Jack nodded in an awkward thanks and sat down.

"Money's tight before the holiday, huh?" Brock asked, taking advantage of the music being quiet for once. "Want me to open your tab as usual?"

"Yeah, but I have only like, fifty bucks." Jack opened his wallet and gave him the bill. "Here. Pour me all the bourbon you have for fifty bucks."

Brock raised his eyebrows at that; Jack used to leave much more in his cash-box on a night. He tried to convince himself it was more amusing than concerning.

"Wow, you must be a generous Santa," he joked.

Jack snorted mirthlessly. "Quite the opposite; I was fired."

Brock winced in sympathy. "Damn. I'm sorry to hear that."

Jack leaned back with his drink, shrugging. "It happens all the time to omegas in the typically alpha lines of work. I thought it would be a good idea to call someone out on their inappropriate behavior, then was blamed for it and dismissed on disciplinary grounds." He scowled, downed his scotch in one go, then set it down on the bar, hard. "Another."

Brock looked around to see if anyone heard Jack's admission to being an omega, but the only people nearby were the group playing poker at a round table next to the bar. They had already caught on who Jack was and didn't have a problem with it.

Brock took a bottle of Wild Turkey 101 and refilled his glass. "You were blamed for someone's inappropriate behavior?" he asked, leaning in so less people heard.

Jack scoffed. "An alpha's inappropriate behavior is always an omega's fault. Don't act like I need to explain it to you."

Brock shrugged. "Sorry if my question was insensitive. I don't really hang out with omegas."

"Yeah." Jack looked around meaningfully. "Could guess as much. No omega to come home to either?"

"Nah," Brock replied and with that their uneasy conversation came to its natural end. Jack turned away to watch the other patrons play poker and Brock went back to watching Prison Break, occasionally pausing to make someone a drink or to refill Jack's glass.

They didn't talk again until two hours before closing when Jack's fifty bucks ran out.

"That was the last one," Brock said, taking Jack's empty glass away.

"Fuck." Jack dug out his wallet, his hands sloppier from the booze in his system, and looked inside. He pulled out another fifty. "Make me another."

Brock eyed the bill and Jack's now empty wallet. "Is that all you have left?"

Jack shrugged and shoved the bill farther in Brock's direction.

"What will you eat tomorrow?" Brock pressed, leaning away.

Jack scoffed. "Fuck tomorrow. Pour me another bourbon."

There were glances thrown at them from the poker table, and Brock finally took the bill. In the end, his job wasn't to worry about his patrons’ personal lives, his job was to pour them drinks and collect the pay. He set the bill down behind the bar, took a clean glass, and filled it with ice. Pleased, Jack leaned back in his stool and greedily cradled the full glass once Brock slid it to him.

They haven't talked again until the closing. The poker club left first, and that was Brock's cue to poke Jack's arm. He was leaning on the bar, his bleary eyes fixed on the empty poker table, the hand that wasn't supporting his tired, drunk face cradling his empty tumbler glass close to his chest.

"I'm closing."

Jack hummed in acknowledgement but didn't move.

"Want me to call you a cab?" Brock asked just before realizing Jack couldn't afford a cab because he'd just drunk all his money. He sighed to himself. "Fuck it. I'll give you a lift."

It wasn't something he'd ever done before for any of his drunk patrons. But then, neither had ever drunk all of their money, and Brock felt partially responsible.

And neither had been an omega.

Brock tried not to think about it, but he wasn't so much in denial not to acknowledge it played a part in making that decision. Jack stirred at his words, and gave him a prejudiced look like he was very much aware of it as well. Or maybe Brock just imagined it.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked. "What a Good Samaritan you are."

"You're welcome to take a walk," Brock shot back, shrugging. "But do so right now. As I said, I'm closing."

Jack stretched his long body and covered a yawn with a back of his hand. His shirt rode up his stomach, uncovering a stripe of tanned skin, and Brock turned away from the sight to lock the cash-box. He would just be giving him a lift. He'd known the guy for a year and he wanted to make sure he'd get home safe. That was all there was.

"Fine," Jack said finally, sliding from his stool and putting his leather jacket on. "I live on 542 Freedom Lane."

Brock nodded, grabbing his jacket as well and turning off the music and the lights. He could come in the next day to wash the tables and sweep the floor; he didn't have any Christmas plans anyway.

A couple minutes into the quiet drive, it became apparent ignoring the fact Jack was an omega would be hard. Locked in a small space, sitting so close to him, Brock could smell him better. His scent still was light and unoppressive, but now Brock could discern sweeter undertones, perhaps of peppermint, and something invigoratingly fruity--grapes? It was all he could focus on, and it took all his willpower not to lean in and scent him. He shifted in his seat, gritting his teeth, and kept his eyes fixed solely on the road. He could feel his body freaking out with hormones, could almost smell the change in his own scent. It seemed it'd always happen to him, no matter if he was seventeen or forty-seven.

Despite that, the drive passed fast, and soon enough Brock was parking at 542 Freedom Lane. He looked out through the window to check out the tall apartment building.

"You okay getting home by yourself?" he asked, feeling his heart beating like crazy. His skin was warm and clammy like he was drunk himself.

Jack raised his head from where he was leaning it against the window to look at him with glassy eyes. "Ya can help me if you wanna."

"Okay," Brock murmured more to himself than to Jack, and licked his dry lips. He was just going to walk him to his door, make sure he was safe. He wiped his hands on his jeans and got out.

The air felt cool on his skin as he trailed behind Jack to the apartment block. Jack punched in the code with a trained hand and let them both in. He led them to the closest door, and Brock suddenly felt stupid when he realized Jack didn't need his assisstance at all. He wanted to say goodnight and leave, but instead he watched Jack pull out a key and struggle to fit it in the hole.

And struggle.

"Let me?" Brock asked finally, and Jack gratefully handed him the key.

Brock unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Here you are," he said as Jack brushed past him inside. "Make sure to lock behind you--"

He reached out with the keys, but instead of just taking them, Jack grabbed his wrist, pulled him inside the apartment and pressed his mouth firmly to Brock's.

Brock's mind went blank for a while, barely registering Jack pushing the door close behind them and pressing Brock against it with the length of his hard, muscular body. The sour scent of his arousal overwhelmed him, the feel of his warm, bourbon tongue prodding at his lips made him arch up for more. Jack's big hands ran down his chest, mapping out the hard muscles beneath his black shirt, and paused at his belt.

Brock wished he could just throw all the caution to the wind and go with it with his conscience clear. But the taste and smell of alcohol on Jack prevented him from it. He grabbed his wrists and pushed him away.

"Jack, I can't. You're drunk," he barely whispered, breathless.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, got it. Yer a real nice guy." He leaned in, reaching for his lips again. Brock stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"Jack, I'm serious. I don't know what asshole alphas you've been running into so far, but I ain’t like that. Let's... Let's meet after Christmas and talk, m'kay? Then we can... figure stuff out," he finished lamely. Jack watched him, looking lost. Brock squeezed his hand reassuringly and let go. "Go to bed. Goodnight."

He slipped out the door before Jack managed to stop him. He almost ran out of the building, taking deep gulps of cool air and willing his semi-erection to go away.

The next week, Brock nervously awaited Jack's arrival, and he couldn't tell if he was more disappointed or relieved when he didn't show. He wasn't sure what he really wanted from Jack, and apparently, Jack wasn't either.

Two weeks later, he wasn't the only one who noticed Jack's absence.

"I haven't seen Jack around lately," Sharon pointed out, nodding at the stool that would normally be taken by Jack, but was occupied by someone else. Brock only hummed in acknowledgement as he prepared her drink. "Doesn't it worry you?"

"I'm sure it's nothing serious," Brock murmured, pouring a mixture of vodka, blue curacao and grape juice into a chilled martini glass. The smell reminded him a bit of Jack's scent.

Sharon took her drink, but she didn't get back to her poker table yet. "He's been here every Friday since I can remember," she said, raising her eyebrow slightly.

Brock shrugged. "Here's to hoping he developed a healthier lifestyle."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Ouch. Anyway, I'd check on him if I were you."

She walked away with her drink, and Brock shook his head to himself. He didn't know Sharon any better than he did any other patron, and here she could somehow tell he liked Jack. He must have been more obvious than he thought.

Her advice wasn't a bad one, though; even if Jack was purposefully avoiding him, it'd be healthier for Brock to just clear that up instead of worrying every Friday. He could handle the truth, however bad it was, but being ghosted? That absolutely sucked.

He drove to Jack's home next afternoon before his shift. He didn't remember his room number, but he got lucky; an elderly lady was just walking out, and kept the door open for him.

"Thanks," Brock breathed over his shoulder, striding for Jack's door. He knocked loudly, wondering nervously what he wanted to say and coming up empty.

The door cracked open and a moss green eye looked at him.

"Fuck, Brock." Jack turned his head inside, presumably to check for something, and chills ran down Brock's arms and chest as he saw an angry red bite mark on the back of his neck. He was almost sure it wasn't there when they... When they last saw each other.

Jack slipped through the door and closed it behind himself. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his words colored by slight panic.

Brock took a step back. "'M sorry... Just wanted to check up on you, after--"

"The sooner we forget what happened, the better,” Jack snapped, laying his hand back on the doorknob.

Wanting to stop him from leaving and unable to help himself, Brock nodded at the back of Jack's neck that was now out of his sight. "I didn't know you had someone."

"I didn't," Jack said bitterly. "I do now. I'm not allowed to go to alpha-only clubs anymore. You should go."

Deep in his bones, Brock could feel there was something very wrong there, that Jack was unhappy. But it wasn't his place to snoop. He wasn't Jack's lover, not even his friend. He was a bartender; his job was to pour drinks and collect the pay.

"Okay," he said soothingly, wanting Jack to lose his guarded stance. He didn't. "I'll go. You know where to find me if..." He shrugged, not knowing how to finish that sentence. He eyed Jack up and down, looked into his eyes that last time. Jack averted his gaze, then opened the door and slipped back inside.

With his shoulders slumped, Brock turned on his heel and left.

#rumrollinsweek21 #day 1 #hydra husbands #brock rumlow #jack rollins #my writing

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