#cackles this is a combination of like three different things. one of which is Not obvious | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justauthoring · 3 years

Text

And The Story Goes...

Prompt(s): Hello there! I saw your requests were opened for haikyuu and I thought about a bokuto x f!reader where they're both already together but some friends of them wonder how Bo and her got together because they seem to have a complete different personality trait, like reader is super quiet and calm whereas Bo is full of energy and quite loud. So the story could be how they ended up in a relationship? And reader could actually be very talkative and lively around the right people (Bokuto 😝) Is this okay? Thank you so much for your work!!

Hi!! Could you pls write a Bokuto x reader fic where the reader goes to Fukurodani. This is set during the training camp at night when they’re joined by Tsukki. Maybe the reader is a manager or part of the girls team and is just visiting. The reader is friends with Kuroo and the members of the Fukurodani team. The guys are teasing Bokuto and/or reader cuz why not lol. Maybeee Tsukki can’t believe that Bokuto is dating the reader cuz the reader is awesome or something like that? (You can ignore the previous sentence if you want)It doesn’t have to follow this exactly, but I beg you pls pls pls have it during the training camp. You’re writing is soooo amazing and I trust whatever you think is best!! Hope you have a great day xx

Requested by: @ohwaitimthewriter + anonymous

A/N: Hello, yes, hi! I’m back from my short little break with this adorable oneshot. I thought these two were so similar I couldn’t help but combine them -- hope you both don’t mind! Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x F!Reader

“I just don’t understand.”

Blinking at the sound of Tsukishima voice, you turn your attention from your clipboard to him with a curious tilt of your head, humming; “what’s that, Tsukki?”

And he eyes you for a moment, silent and carefully, before he turns and he gaze turns to the rest of the small crowd around the both of you -- but more specifically zones in on that of Bokuto, clearly puzzled. “How are you with him?”

He’s blunt because that’s just how he is, and but now you’ve grown adjusted to the first years somewhat blank voice and attitude that it doesn’t really phase you or insult you as much as you think it should. Part of you wants to be offended, and you’re not even sure if it’s for your sake or your boyfriends, but you’re not, and instead, you simply set down the notes you’d been taking for Bokuto and Akaashi’s sake and clasp your hands behind your back, smiling.

“Because I love him.”

You say it so matter-of-factly that even Tsukishima blinks in response. He pauses another minute, as if contemplating, before his face twists into barely concealed disgust. “You’re so quiet and calm, but very smart and analytical when you want to be,” you blink at the compliment, “and he’s so... not.”

“Not?”

“He’s loud,” Tsukishima frowns, “all the time. And he’s not very--”

You cut him off with a small squeal, the sudden feeling of arms wrapped tenderly around your waist surprising you, and the lack of footing beneath your feet. But the surprise only lasts a second because it isn’t all that hard to realize who it is when you hear a familiar cackle and the touch becomes recognizable.

“Ko!”

You’re laughing as he sets you down, and the second you have your balance, you spin in his arms, smiling up at him. You notice then that Kuroo, Akaashi and Lev have also followed your boyfriend off the court, where they’d previously been doing some extra practicing.

“Hey babe,” he grins, all tooth-like, down at you.

“Everything okay?” You frown gently, “why’d you guys stop? You didn’t hurt yourself, right?”

Your eyes are already flickering across his body in search when Kuroo steps forward, laughing lightly; “no, the idiot just didn’t like that you weren’t watching him,” your lips form an ‘o’, and Kuroo turns to Tsukishima. “Besides, we lost a player.”

“Moo,” Bokuto frowns, hair deflating with with a pout, “what’s so important about Tsukki that you weren’t watching me anymore, Y/N/N?”

“Oh,” shrugging, you turn to Tsukishima, “Tsukki was actually asking me how you and I started dating, Ko.”

Tsukishima frowns, and you know it’s because that’s definitely not what he’d been asking, but he holds his tongue -- or rather, is forced to when Kuroo speaks up before he can.

“Actually,” Kuroo calls, brows furrowing, “I don’t even know how you two met.”

“You never told him?” You ask Bokuto, who shrugs down at you.

“Never came up.”

“I always just assumed the two of you met through volleyball.”

“They didn’t,” Akaashi shakes his head, “Y/N-san became manager because of Bokuto-san.”

Rolling your eyes, you laugh at the memory. “He’d been begging me to for so long,” you shake your head, yet there’s still a bright smile present upon your lips. “It was a bit weird starting a new club in my second year, but Bokuto had pull with the coach and he said I already was there every night for practice that it made sense anyways.”

Bokuto squeezes you then, pulling you flush against his chest as he grins brightly; “which means Y/N always gets to see me play now.”

“Oh, hush,” you lightly slap his chest, to which he pouts again, “I went to every one of your games anyways.”

He doesn’t argue. Mainly cause you’re right.

“That’s great,” Tsukishima drawls, “but that still doesn’t explain how you met.”

You turn to him in surprise, him being the last one you expected to ask that since he hadn’t really wanted to know in the first place anyways. And by the expression on his face, or the way he flushes lightly when you smirk knowingly at him, he hadn’t really expected himself to ask it either.

“I assume it still has to do with volleyball,” Lev grins, excitedly leaning into the conversation.

You blink when you realize just how interested everyone seems to actually be, even Akaashi seems mildly interested and he’s never asked before.

Well, who are you to deny.

“You’re right, Lev,” you grin brightly. “He hit me in the head with a volleyball.”

There’s a pause, it lasts for no more then a minute, and then a sputter of surprise, gasps and chokes echoing around you as every boy wears a different expression of surprise. Akaashi and Tsukishima are the most tame, which isn’t surprising. Tsukishima just seems... really the same, Akaashi’s eyes have widened slightly, but he doesn’t seem all that shocked.

Maybe it’s because he probably knows Bokuto best besides you.

Lev looks flabbergasted, eyes bulged and lips parted. And Kuroo... well, Kuroo’s laughing like a hyena like he does when he finds something really funny; arms wrapped around his stomach, tears coming out of his eyes, the sort, and Bokuto looks so absolutely insulted that you’re almost scared it’s enough to bring him into his emo-mode despite not even being on the court.

“You hit her in the head with a volleyball!”

“Honestly, that makes sense.”

“Akaashi!”

“Sorry, Bokuto-san.”

“Bu-But!” You desperately cut in, shaking your hands in front of you. “He was really apologetic and sweet, and literally brought me flowers every day to school just to say sorry again. And in the grand scheme of things, I’m glad he hit me in the head with that volleyball or else I never would’ve met him.”

“Aweh, babe~”

“Even if it did give me a mild concussion.”

“Babe-! Don’t laugh, Kuroo!”

Bokuto pulls from you to swat Kuroo, who ducks from his hit and before you know it the two are chasing each other. Lev instantly goes to join, just excited to be apart of everything, and with a long sigh, Akaashi goes to reign in Bokuto, leaving you and Tsukishima alone.

You watch Bokuto for a moment longer before speaking, “to answer your question, I’m with Bokuto because he makes me the best I can be.” You eye him out of the corner of your eye. “He may be loud and a lot, but I’m not really my true self without him.”

Tsukishima still seems puzzled and honestly, you’re not that surprised -- having been helping the Gym three squad after practice for the past few days, you’ve come to learn that Tsukishima’s not all that understanding a simple human relationships and seems to struggle opening up to other people.

You hope, however, he’ll learn to understand what you mean.

“Oh, and Tsukishima?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t ever call my boyfriend stupid again.”

You send him a short smile, raising a brow at him as his lips part, surprise flooding his gaze.

“Y/N/N~! Come watch me spike!”

“Of course, Ko.”

Have I said how much I love Bokuto?

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq imagine #hq x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutarou imagine #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto imagine #bokuto x reader #imagine #imagines #my fics #bokuto x you #bokuto koutarou x you #bokuto fluff

230 notes · View notes

capesandshapes · 3 years

Text

All You Had to Do Was Stay (Post Reveal/ Pre Relationship) (3/4)

Summary:

Three years ago, Marinette revealed her identity to him. Three years ago, he promised to wait in a hotel room for her. Three years ago, she opened the door to find it empty.

Now she's expected to play nice with him, since she's the maid of honor and he's unfortunately the best man. But old habits die hard, and old feelings die harder.

"This is a wedding, not a death march, Marinette."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was going well.

Or, at least as well as a combination Bachelor and Bachelorette party planned entirely via awkward emails could go.

Which could be attributed solely to her and her thousands of schedules and planners, along with the fact that she checked the weather almost religiously and the tide predictions. Adrien just bankrolled most of the thing, which worked well enough seeing as he was the head of a multi-billion-dollar fashion house and she was an up-and-coming designer with an Etsy shop focusing on affordable fashion for normal people. Sure, he insisted on a few things, such as not using the Couffaine’s houseboat (He’d actually tried to argue against a boat entirely) or serving shots with Kim and Alix finally reuniting at this party—But most of it could be attributed to her.

She was pretty sure that was him trying to please her, to play nice after that disastrous night outside the bakery. He was avoiding her as much as possible, and any time he was faced with her he resolved the tension by agreeing to her as much as possible.

He was capable of learning, she supposed.

Marinette stood to the side of the bar as the boat they road on bobbed upwards and downwards, a hand braced on the counter and a glass of water that had she poured into a wineglass in the other. She hadn’t admitted to anyone, but she had a habit of getting seasick. The dim lighting of the fairy lights twinkling overhead combined with the loud pounding of music did a good job of hiding that.

She gave a small, weak smile as she looked out to her friends on the dance floor, some of them being people who she hadn’t seen for far longer than Adrien. Kim and Alix were locked in an exaggerated slow dance that had the two cackling, Juleka and Rose had stolen away to a corner, and Sabrina was excitedly explaining her business as a personal assistant to anyone who would listen. It’d been a long time since she’d seen them all, and it made her sentimental. She rarely saw anyone outside of Alya and Nino now.

“Makes you nostalgic, huh?” A deep, familiar voice asked her, obviously having slid in beside her at the bar at some point.

The side of her mouth tugged harder, and that nauseous feeling in her stomach momentarily left her. She let her blue eyes drift over, practically beaming as she took him in. “Luka Couffaine,” she said. A part of her wondered if he would come.

His long, shaggy blue hair and sharp eyes were now the highlight of the evening. Or almost the highlight. “Marinette,” he said, “fancy meeting you here.”

“Oh yes,” Marinette agreed, “it’s shocking for the maid of honor to be at the Bachelorette party.”

“Well, when she’s got a problem with the best man,” Luka began.

Marinette shot him a look. “Be quiet, someone could hear you.”

“I think everyone would have to be blind not to know,” Luka said, leaning against the bar beside her. She knew where he was looking, who he was watching. Yet, despite that, he said, “a part of me always hoped it would be us out there. Doing all of this.”

Her smile fell. “But you’re happy now?”

“Immensely,” he confirmed, and one look at his face reaffirmed that. He was still watching, still taking it all in. If her eyes traveled to the same place, she could do it too. She could look at Adrien Agreste and wonder how everything got so utterly awful. “I knew it wouldn’t be us, Marinette. We weren’t those type of people.”

“The type of people to get married?”

“The type of people to fit together without any gaps,” he explained. “No room for concern, no regrets.”

She sighed. There was more to it, of course. There was so much more to everything, like the fact that she could never do it, never give herself completely to Luka. She was always waiting, lingering in hallways at the slightest flash of the right shade of blond, and hearing familiar laughter in the silence.

She loved Luka, but she was always wanting. She needed Chat, she needed Adrien, she needed whatever form of him he would give her—

“You still love him, don’t you?” Luka asked. It was a stupid question. She’d seen Adrien six times since he came back, and half of those moments were in passing. Any rational person would say no, only crazy romantics would say yes.

So, she stayed silent.

“I want you to be happy,” Luka said finally, and it was a bucket of cold water poured on her. A reminder of reality, of where she was now, and a rush of that seasickness back to her gut. But when he said it, there was that hint of leftover desire, that underlying subtext that there was a hole in his heart, and it would always be there for her.

And the cold understanding that she never made a groove in her heart for him.

She turned to look at him, only to find him gone.

And with that came sickness.

Awful, churning sickness. A vile wave of nausea that assaulted her stomach. The boat lurched, and with it, so did she.

My god, she was going to die.

Marinette Dupain Cheng, beloved daughter and friend. Died of seasickness because of her own poor choices while planning a party to celebrate her friends’ upcoming wedding.

She threw her head back with another large wave, her eyes watering as she fought the overwhelming urge to die. Lila Rossi was at the party, slithering onto the guest list with a perfectly timed apology to Alya about an awful Instagram post. If Marinette turned any greener she was sure she’d be on Rossi’s snapchat story, paired with a caption questioning why exactly the poor girl was so sick. Another pregnancy rumor.

She grimaced at the thought and nearly fell to her knees as another wave jostled her. Luckily, a hand caught her before she could fall, the warmth of a thick blazer spread across her shoulders and distracted her momentarily.

“And this,” said a voice as she was hauled back onto her feet, “is why I argued against the boat.”

She turned both quickly and unsteadily, catching a mixture of blond and green before, unfortunately, practically falling against it.

She could have done worse.

She could have done much worse.

Such as vomiting on his Burberry jacket or ruining his Chanel shoes.

Adrien’s arms caught her easily, hooking underneath her armpits and hauling her upwards once more. “I’d make a joke about you falling for me, but all things considered… I’d say you’re sick of me.”

Badum tss.

Marinette groaned, resting her forehead against his chest only because it was the main thing keeping the rest of the world from overwhelming her. “Were your jokes always this stupid?”

“Things seem a lot funnier when you’re madly in love,” he said, and she made sure to fire back a glare in response. “That’s good,” he said with an air of authority when she looked at him, “eyes on me, focus on the conversation instead of the waves.”

“Can I have a different conversation partner?” she fired back.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head at her as he kept a hand braced on her back, the other braced on her shoulder to keep her upright. “Do you want someone else to know you’re sick?” He asked, “because I guarantee Alya and Nino will hear.”

Ugh.

“We’re going to get you inside,” Adrien decided, evidently having spotted a door back into the cabin.

“And then?” She asked, she didn’t see how that would help.

“And then I’ll stay by you in case it all goes south, and you can play YouTube videos on my phone to distract you for another hour or two until Alya goes looking for you. Then you’ll take some selfies, come back, and we’ll wash, rinse, and repeat.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “I don’t trust you to stay anywhere, Agreste.”

He flinched. “Okay, fair, but… I’m your only option here so,” he tilted his head at her, looking down as he withdrew his hand from her waist only to offer it to her again. “Either you take my hand and we go, or I leave you here at the mercy of the Seine, which seems to be in quite the mood today.”

He had a point.

“Fine,” she said, slapping her hand into his. “I’ll sit next to you, but I will not talk to you. Don’t expect a miraculous turn around.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I hope you know that nearly every YouTube recommendation of yours being highlight reels of Ladybug and Chat Noir is not endearing,” Marinette informed Adrien, “it makes you look self-obsessed.”

“It’s not every YouTube recommendation,” Adrien scoffed, moving beside her to point at his screen. “See? Anime.”

“Top ten anime waifus?” Marinette read out, shooting him a look.

“You know that’s not what it says,” he responded, yet she couldn’t help but note the way that he took a second look as if making sure.

They were on the ground in the cabin of the boat, nearest the hallway where the kitchens and bathroom were. Adrien was the one to declare that the safest, a place where she could get water if needed, and if worse came…

“When will this finally pass,” Marinette asked yet again as she let herself fall onto her back, she’d repeated the question with every single video finished, but her impatience continued to grow.

And he repeated the same answer, “in four hours when the boat finally docks and we end up on dry land.”

Four hours.

“You were never good in the water,” he said, “and this is coming from the guy dressed like a cat.”

She glared, slapping his thigh. “When this boat lands, the truce ends.”

His smile faltered at that, and he let himself sink down onto the ground beside her, his eyes trained towards the ceiling.

This had a time limit; all of this had a time limit. Even she had almost forgotten that. Because eventually the wedding would end, eventually there would be no more forced interactions, eventually he would go home. Eventually she would go back to her life and wonder the same damn question.

“Why weren’t you there that night?” There was no gracefulness to how it was presented, it merely clattered from her like a knife falling from a kitchen table. It was heavy and loaded, the kind of question that you swallowed down every time you saw someone, not the type that you lobbed out when you were laying side by side and wishing it had been like this so many other times.

She could feel his eyes on her.

“I…” he began, but whatever he meant to say was a false start. He swallowed the letter and tried again. “I don’t…” Know? Care? Want to talk about this?

Why did she care anymore?

What would it change?

Nothing.

“I was scared,” he said finally.

“Okay,” she said.

And that was that. That should have been that. That should have been her hint, her great sign.

“Why?”

And with that single word he rose to his forearms, looking over at her. He was in her field of vision, where she couldn’t ignore him. A hint of pink graced the edge of his green eyes, but his lips were set in an almost determined look, and she wondered if he would stumble over his words again.

“My father was just arrested for being Hawk Moth, my mother was found in my basement, I lost the only home I ever knew to police investigations, and suddenly guardians were at my door asking for Plagg—all in one day. Choose a reason, Marinette.” It wasn’t vile, it wasn’t angry, it wasn’t even cold. She didn’t know how to describe it.

“You disappeared.”

“I couldn’t stand to be in Paris any longer.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“What would I say?!” He replied, his voice loud, far louder than he obviously intended. He flinched as it echoed through the air, and suddenly she was all knives and anger.

“Hello Marinette,” she responded, “or should I say Ladybug, the girl I’ve claimed to be in love with for six years! It’s been great, a fun time and all, but man am I tired—see you in three years without a single message! Good luck wondering if it’s because of you, if you being the girl behind the mask is what changed it all, even though the only difference was one scrap of red fabric!” She glared, sitting up, “Miss. You.”

“You think that’s how it was?” He began, his eyebrows narrowed as he raised from his arms, his eyes staring holes into hers. “I told you…”

“You’d love whoever was behind the mask,” she finished, pushing off of the ground. “But let’s be honest here—Not Lila, not Chloe, and not me. Never me.” She stumbled to her feet, gripping the wall as she finally stood. “I told you who I was, and you were terrified! I saw it, I knew! I should have known why—"

“Because you’re you, because you’re Marinette, because you’re--” he was scrambling to his feet, scrambling to keep her there, scrambling to make some sort of sense.

“Because I’m Marinette?” She repeated, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to hear the mistake. To know that she was right, that this was all some stupid curse put upon her by a universe that would thankfully, in a month’s time, solve the situation.

“That’s not—Jesus Christ, I—”

He didn’t need to say more.

She began to walk away, to risk the treacherous river waves. Anything was better than this, anyone was better than him—

“Because you’re perfect,” he called before she could even begin to walk out that stupid door, and every cell in her body stopped moving. “Because you’re pretty and you’re kind. Because you have a perfect family and everyone loves you, Nino loves you, Alya loves you, I—” He thought better of saying whatever came next there. “Because you were going to be a fashion designer, and the best one anyone’s ever seen. Because you try to be good to everyone you meet. Because at the end of the day you’ll always be good, too good for me, and I’m…”

“You’re,” she was surprised that she asked it, that she could process anything.

And there was a pause, a long, heavy one. One where anything, any combination of words could go wrong.

“Because people would see you walking beside me, and you would still be good, and you would still be kind and you would still be gentle; but they’d see none of that. Because they’d look over and see me. They’d see what my father made and what my father ruined.” Quietly, he confessed, “you would be perfect and none of that would matter, because they’d look over and see Hawkmoth’s son.”

#adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #miraculous fanfiction #my fanfic #inspired by those two times capesandshapes went to prom and got super seasick on a river boat with nowhere to run #post reveal #pre relationship

81 notes · View notes

beautifulterriblequeen · 3 years

Note

I keep thinking about Silmarillion, and I was wondering : what do you think of Fëanor ?

I don’t know exactly how it should be seen...

Ooh, Fëanor. Gosh, okay, let me change the channel in my brain.

Fëanor is, at heart, a Capitalist Inventor. He's Dark Tony Stark. He creates endless things for the world to use, but what truly drives him is the bone-deep belief that he and his chosen ones deserve his most prized possessions more than anyone else. And he's willing to kill anyone on both sides to get them back. He swears an oath to fight until he gets what he wants, and thus seals the doom of untold thousands he'll never even meet.

That's an antagonist. Which is not the same thing as a villain. But Fëanor is very much an experience to be survived - or not - rather than any kind of ally. Much of what he does in the Silmarillion is imbalanced, driven by emotions he doesn't seem willing or able to control. And because he's an elf among elves, and they all live a very very long time, the effects of his choices carry forward for thousands of years. This one dude got a lot of people killed, directly and indirectly, including his whole family. For an elf was supposed to love the stars, he wasn't very stellar. Our Man in Valinor was way more into fire.

The part that bothers me about his character - and this is a modern take looking back at JRR Tolkien and his world in the last millennium - is that Fëanor is born this way. He is flawed from birth, and he's just Like That, forever. No chance to change, no encouragement to be different, to be softer, to be better, to corral his spirit of fire into something more light than heat. He's just dangerous chaos from start to finish. He comes into the world sucking his mother's spirit dry so she dies, he lives his life disagreeing with everyone around him except his sons, and he goes out encouraging those sons to hold to their unholy oath to retrieve the Silmarils or die trying. Which they do - the "die trying" part, anyway.

He's a piece of work.

He was also a brilliant, god-tier craftsman. I guess that's what happens when you study under the Vala Aulë himself, who literally shaped the physical world into existence.

He created the Silmarils, capturing the combined light of the Two Trees into three brilliant gemstones in a way no one ever did before or since.

He crafted the palantíri, which not even Sauron could replicate later.

He invented Tengwar script, which is the swirly elven writing we all associate with Middle-Earth.

He crafted the mysterious Feanorian lamps, which are crystals that emit blue light and cannot be doused.

He was constantly thinking up new ideas and crafting them. Eru only knows what he made that has been lost. You'll notice none of these things he made are swords. Yet he led an attack against the Teleri on his way out of Valinor, and the Teleri defended themselves, so I kind of assume he was also a weaponsmith, trying out new ideas in metal form if nothing else.

Brilliant and misguided, a flawed juggernaut, destined to drag the entire world and countless lives off course. The earlier these characters show up in the timeline, the more destructive chaos they end up causing.

I do not like Fëanor. He's a White Guy, doing as he pleases with no thought for the consequences, to himself, to those of his family he actually likes, or to anyone else. He holds enough privilege and power that people keep following him into disaster, and then he just goes and does it again, without learning a damn thing from his imbalanced approach. He even dies thinking he did nothing wrong ever in his life. Like... Bitch.

Having power is no guarantee that you deserve power, and Fëanor is a prime example of why.

This has nothing to do with the objects he made. Those are just tools, free to be taken and used for good or evil, as the palantíri were, and as every message ever written in Tengwar was. Would the world have been better off without the Silmarils at all, or the palantíri? Would a different language script have somehow altered the world for the better? Since it's fiction, we could just decide that Yes, Yes It Would, or No Actually Not.

What's not fictional is my distaste for presumptuous assholes with a bit of power but no self-awareness, because I've already met too many of them who weren't fictional, either.

You want my unvarnished opinion of Fëanor? He's a billionaire. And I'm glad he got eaten. It wasn't nearly soon enough.

Eat your billionaires before they get all crusty, kids. They taste best fresh and plump. Nom nom.

Still here? Oh, then it's time to compare Fëanor to TDP! Because as much as I despise him, he makes for excellent storytelling angst and conflict, and vicarious conflict is how we learn to avoid it in our real lives - if we're paying attention.

I've said before that I'd like to see some kind of Oath of Fëanor effect in TDP. The absolute horror at seeing good characters get yoinked into bad deeds just because they promised? Ahahaha, horrible, thank you, I'll have some more. If the Moonshadow assassins have something like that behind those creepy binding ribbons, I'm gonna be cackling in between my tears, fam.

But Fëanor himself? Oh, do you see, that's Aaravos! He's even got that craftsman side, since he made the relic staff, and boy is it swirly.

(Does that make Ethari a Celebrimbor type, separating himself from the dark deeds of his forebears yet still massively talented, creating amazing magical devices?)

Aaravos is the main villain of TDP, as far as we've been told. He's crafty, in both senses of the word. Did he have some angsty complex family life with half-siblings and a mother who died because she birthed him? Maybe. Stars can be born from the detritus of other stars that exploded and died, so there's a sciencey metaphor there already.

Of interest: Fëanor had seven sons, and the world of TDP has seven kinds of magic. Aaravos created at least one of them. Did he create primal magics too, from the deep magic that came before? Might there be some kind of oath involved there, with the first elves to wield differentiated magic?

How about those primal stones that look like palantíri? How many of those did Aaravos craft? Can he use one from his library to spy on people who have them or something? That would mean he could already know a ton about Viren even before he came to the Storm Spire and stole the mirror. Woah.

What about a Silmaril equivalent? Are there especially glorious magical gemstones in Xadia? Did Aaravos wear them in his crown and now he's mister Grumpy Glam without them?

Did he create the original runes that diverged into all the elven languages? With his sloppy handwriting? Heh, the other elves must've been very patient.

You know... Aaravos has been called a Promethean figure, gifting humans with knowledge and skill they didn't have. But that gift was the gift of fire. A tool. A tool employed by craftsmen.

Fëanor literally means "Spirit of Fire."

In the end, Fëanor was consumed by his own spirit. He never learned to vibe with it, and it destroyed him and many others. Sounds a lot like dark magic.

Maybe the real Oath of Fëanor in TDP is one you have to speak backwards.

#asks #Fëanor #tdp #tdp speculation #silm #oath of feanor #just fantasy things #aaravos

28 notes · View notes

iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 3 years

Text

of falling & skateboards

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan, Virgil, background Remus & Janus Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Pre-romantic/platonic Analogical (first meeting), romantic Dukeceit (getting together), platonic Dukexiety. Warnings: Language, Remus is somewhat suggestive throughout because he’s Remus, minor injuries Word count: 4541

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

analogical week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: Virgil's friend Remus drags him to the skate park and promptly abandons him in order to flirt with Janus; at least Remus had the grace to introduce Virgil to Janus's attractive friend Logan, who is just as poorly versed in skateboarding techniques as Virgil.

Notes: Day 5 of Analogical Week 2021! @analogicalweek Remus uses he/they pronouns; at this point, Janus uses they/them. Takes place in my Starlight Universe, does not need context to read.

Virgil’s phone began ringing, making him jump. He fished it out of his pocket, planning to hang up until he saw the caller ID. It was Remus—one of his new friends. They’d met at a club Virgil had gone to during orientation, and they’d hit it off and started hanging out.

Virgil picked up the call. “Would it kill you to fucking text me first?”

“You don’t respond fast enough,” Remus said, sounding bored.

“Sometimes I’m in class, Remus!”

“Are you in class now?” Remus asked.

“...No.”

“So it’s all good, see!” Remus cackled. “Anyway,” they went on, steamrollering over Virgil’s objection, “you wanna come to the skatepark with me this weekend?”

That was totally out of the blue. “What?” Virgil asked after a pause. “Why?”

“So, my brother has this roommate, and he’s super nerdy and boring but I think you’d totally get along and he’s coming to the skatepark with me and you should totally come along and meet him!” Remus explained.

His voice was a little too self-satisfied. “What’s the catch?” Virgil asked suspiciously.

Remus gasped dramatically. “Can’t I just want good things for my friend?”

Virgil waited.

“Also he’s friends with Janus and he’s bringing them, which is obviously totally unrelated,” Remus added.

“Aha.” That made more sense; Remus had told Virgil way more information than he wanted to know about their crush on this Janus figure.

“So you’ll come?” Remus asked eagerly.

It wasn’t like Virgil had anything else going on this weekend. “Sure. I’ll come distract your friend so you can flirt.”

“Hey!” Remus yelped, loud enough that Virgil winced and held the phone away from his ear. “Listen, this is a win-win situation for both of us! You’ll love him. Promise. He’s so fucking boring and nerdy, you’re going to talk each other’s ears off. It’ll be great! Trust me!”

“Sure,” Virgil said, amused. “Text me the time and place. Text me,” he repeated for emphasis, and hung up the phone.

On Saturday morning, he met up with Remus and the pair of them walked to the bus stop. Remus had their skateboard with them; Virgil didn’t own one, but Remus had assured him that he could check one out at the park for a small fee if he wanted to.

“You did not say it was fancy,” Virgil accused as the bus pulled away from the stop.

“What?” Remus looked down at himself. “Oh. No, I’m just sexy, nobody’s supposed to be fancy.” He was wearing a gray sports bra—it was the first time Virgil had seen him without a binder on, but even in a public setting he seemed totally unbothered—and faded jeans with huge holes in the knees, as well as platform doc martens and an olive green bomber jacket with “HE/THEY” stencilled on the back in white paint above a pair of skeletal hands giving double birds. His belly button was pierced and he was wearing a chunky black piece with small silver spikes in it; they had fishnet gloves on their hands, a black choker with small studded spikes on it around their neck, chunky black and silver studs in the three piercings he had in each ear, and messily smudged black and silver eyeshadow. His dark green curls were pushed back into a tiny, low ponytail that did absolutely nothing to contain them or make them less messy. “Pretty sure this isn’t what normal people mean when they say fancy, anyway,” they added thoughtfully.

“Shut up, this is fancy. You’re being fancy to impress your crush.” Virgil elbowed them in the side. He was only wearing his typical combination of band tee, skinny jeans, and black hoodie; he felt positively underdressed next to them.

“Yes, I am very very sexy and this is my mating call,” Remus said with an easy shrug. “What can I say?” After a pause, they added, “Do you think it’ll work?”

Virgil snickered. “Sure. Whatever. You look very punk. I’m sure they’ll be very impressed.”

“Good,” Remus said happily. “Here, this is our stop.”

One thing Virgil had learned about Remus was that they had what seemed to be actually boundless energy, and it showed in the way they walked. They practically skipped, moving at a pace so quick Virgil had difficulty keeping up. But Remus was especially energetic today, and it got worse the closer they got to their destination. He was practically vibrating out of his skin by the time the park came in sight.

“There they are!” he exclaimed, pointing to two people standing in the shade of a tree and making conversation. “Jan is the gothy one, the nerd’s all yours.”

Virgil screeched to a dead stop and grabbed Remus’s elbow. “Dude.”

“What?” Remus looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“You didn’t say he was hot!” Virgil snapped.

“What?” Remus looked bewildered, looking back to the people he’d pointed out. His expression cleared. “Oh, right, I forgot you can be attracted to cis people.” He looked back at Virgil. “I dunno. Make out with him about it?”

“Jesus Christ—no! I don’t know anything about him, for starters?”

“Fuck first, ask questions later.” Remus grinned. “Or if you don’t want to, then just get over it. People are hot sometimes. No big deal.”

Virgil spluttered for a moment. “That is such terrible advice, please tell me you don’t actually—”

“No, no, I’m marginally smart sometimes, don’t worry about me. But I don’t know what you want from me, dude.” Remus shrugged. “This really seems like a you problem.”

“I need to mentally prepare myself before I talk to hot people! A warning would have been nice!” Virgil said, hiding in the hood of his hoodie.

“Mentally prepare yourself now, then,” Remus said pragmatically. “This is really not my fault, I simply am sexier than you at all times and it gives me the power to say no thank you to being attracted to cis people. How was I supposed to know you’d think he was hot? Like, if you get all hot and bothered by glasses and the walking personification of a college textbook, be my guest, but I don’t get it.”

Virgil groaned. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind, could you shut up about it forever starting now?”

“Oh, absolutely not, but your complaint is noted,” Remus said. “C’mon, let’s go say hi, some of us actually want to flirt with the people we think are hot.” They grabbed Virgil’s elbow and dragged him over.

“Remus,” Hot Glasses Boy said cordially (and dammit, he was tall, which was another thing Virgil found attractive). “This is your friend, I assume?”

“Yeah!” Remus grinned. “Logan, Virgil, Virgil, Logan. Apparently you’re hot. He’s emo. You’re both nerds, you should get along great.”

“Remus!” Virgil snapped, cheeks going hot with embarrassment.

“What? What?” Remus demanded, then elbowed past Virgil. “Hiiiii, Janus.”

Janus raised a singular eyebrow, looking for some reason amused rather than annoyed. “Hello there.” They eyed him up and down. “I like your jacket,” they added, very obviously staring at his chest in a way that Virgil suspected has nothing to do with the jacket.

Remus grinned and did a little twirl. “Thanks, I decorated it myself,” he said, wiggling his shoulders. “Wanna see me do a sick kickflip?”

“Sure,” Janus agreed, and allowed Remus to link his arm through theirs and drag them eagerly away in the direction of the skating area, already talking a mile a minute and beaming up at them.

Which left Virgil alone with this Logan guy and no idea what to talk about. He coughed, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Now that he was up close like this, Logan actually looked familiar, but Virgil couldn’t quite place him. Shit. Should he know him from something?

“Don’t we have History 104 together?” Logan said, breaking the silence (and saving Virgil from the approximately two dozen different social gaffes he knew he was probably committing by not knowing what to say) all at once.

Virgil breathed out a sigh of relief, because yeah, that was it; this was the guy who sat at the front of the huge lecture hall and always raised his hand (and his voice was unmistakable too, now that he’d spoken; Virgil would have placed him in another minute). “Oh, yeah,” he said. He had no clue how the guy recognized Virgil; it was a big class, and Virgil usually sat by the back. Maybe he noticed Virgil on his way in? Virgil guessed he sat kind of close to the door. It was possible.

“What do you think of the class?” Logan asked, and for some reason he sounded genuinely curious, not like he was just making small talk for the sake of it.

Virgil had absolutely skipped two class sessions and napped through another, but he found himself not wanting to admit it. “It’s alright, I guess. The professor’s kind of dry for me, but the readings are okay.” That was more or less true, although it was maybe the most positive spin on his opinion.

Logan nodded, adjusting his glasses and absorbing Virgil’s words like they were actually important information. “He is a bit long-winded sometimes. I wish he would be clearer about which things he intends to test us on.”

Virgil nodded vigorously. “Right? Like, what’s up with that? Why is he spending twenty minutes out of the hour telling us about, I don’t know farming practices, or whatever, if he’s just going to say ‘oh, but that stuff won’t be on the test, I just think it’s interesting’ at the end?”

“Well, it is interesting,” Logan said. (Virgil disagreed, but held his tongue.) “But I do wish he’d be clearer about what he intends for us to be taking away from his lectures ahead of time.”

Virgil nodded again, and there was a brief silence while he scrambled for something to say.

He glanced over Logan’s shoulder at the skating area; Janus was sitting on the edge with their legs dangling into the area, watching Remus, who was skateboarding back and forth at a speed that couldn’t be safe.

“So,” Virgil said, looking back to Logan because he was pretty sure he’d scream if he watched Remus tempt fate any longer, “you’re friends with Remus?”

Logan made a gesture that wasn’t quite a shrug. “I suppose so. He’s my roommate Roman’s twin, and the two of them spend a lot of time together, so I think I am friends with him by association. I’m much closer with Roman. Not that I don’t enjoy Remus’s company. I simply don’t know them as well yet.”

“Right, right,” Virgil said.

“How are you acquainted with them?” Logan asked.

“Oh, we met at a club during orientation,” Virgil said. “We hang out a lot. He’s pretty chill most of the time.” Well. “Chill” wasn’t really the right word to describe anything Remus did, ever. But it did describe Virgil’s feelings towards him.

“Ah, I see.” Logan nodded. “Do you know Janus at all?”

“Not really—I mean, Remus talks about them a ton, but we haven’t really met or anything,” Virgil said. “You do, though, right?”

“Yes, we were in the same group at orientation, and now we’re friends,” Logan said. “They and I like to deconstruct TV scripts together.”

That sounded incredibly nerdy, and Virgil wasn’t even sure what it meant. “Wow,” he said, not sure how else to react. “Fun?”

Logan smiled, and fuck, Virgil had managed to forget he was cute for a minute there, but it was back in full force now. “It’s lots of fun,” he agreed.

They made some more small talk—majors, hometowns, and so on. Logan actually paid attention to every word Virgil said, and he was surprisingly easy to open up to. He didn’t seem judgemental, instead accepting every word Virgil spoke as important. Virgil was actually starting to feel comfortable talking to him, which was… cool. Remus’s assessment of the way they’d get along evidently hadn’t been too off.

After a while, Logan looked over his shoulder at Remus and Janus; Remus had coaxed Janus onto the skateboard, and was pushing them back and forth, his hands clasped carefully around their waist and a huge grin spread across his face.

“Are you planning to try that?” Logan asked Virgil, gesturing at the little building off to the side that was renting out skateboards and safety gear.

Virgil hesitated. “I don’t know… are you?” he asked.

Logan made a considering face. “I might. I’ve never been on a skateboard before.”

“Wait, really?” Virgil asked. He hadn’t in a long time, but he’d been obsessed when he was twelve. He didn’t think that he’d been very good, but it hadn’t been for a lack of trying.

Logan shook his head. “No, never.”

“Well, we’ve got to change that,” Virgil found himself saying in spite of all the common sense that screams at him to not do something with such a high likelihood of making him look like a fool in front of a cute boy who was also turning out to be surprisingly easy to talk to, and thus a potential friend, which was honestly way more valuable than cuteness.

Logan looked pleased, though, like he’d been hoping Virgil would agree, so Virgil couldn’t find it in himself to regret the decision. “Together, then?” he inquired.

“Sure,” Virgil agreed, and they made their way into the building.

They rented a pair of skateboards and two sets of safety gear for the minimum time—thirty minutes, at $15 apiece, which was definitely higher than Remus had implied but Virgil did luckily have the cash to spare—and made their way out to the skating area.

Remus was now skating in tight, fast circles around Janus, who was holding perfectly still and calm at the lowest point of one of the curves built into the area. Virgil was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be in the area without a skateboard of their own, but he also wasn’t about to tell them off and bring down the wrath of Remus upon himself. The two seemed engrossed in conversation, anway.

Logan led Virgil to a completely different space from that which Remus and Janus were taking up. Virgil was grateful; he didn’t feel like being made fun of, no matter how good-naturedly, by Remus at this time, and while Janus was likely interesting enough to keep Remus from following them over here, they would never have passed up the opportunity if Logan and Virgil had stayed anywhere nearby.

Logan stared at the skateboard he’d set down before himself on a flat space, looking vaguely perplexed. “You just climb on, right?” he inquired.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “You can, like, kick off with your foot to move, and stuff. Kind of like riding a bike.” He instantly regretted the comparison, and tacked on a hasty, “Only, not that much.”

Logan made a small “huh” noise. “Interesting.” He cautiously put a foot on the skateboard and tested his weight on it. “Oh, I do not like that.”

Virgil chuckled a little, tugging at the strap of his helmet to make sure it was securely fastened. “Yeah, it’s a pretty weird feeling, huh?”

“The ground should be stable,” Logan said emphatically, staring at the skateboard that he was still barely resting one foot on with an expression on his face like it had personally wronged him.

Virgil snickered. “Can’t say I disagree with you there, buddy. But seriously, it’s not too bad once you get used to it.” He hopped onto his own skateboard as if to prove his point, but he hadn’t realized he’d set it up on the barest incline, and as soon as his second foot left the ground it rolled right out from under him.

“Are you okay?” Logan gasped, reaching to offer him a hand up.

Virgil half laughed, because that was the best option just at this moment, trying his best to ignore the wish to go hide in a hole in the ground until everyone left and then never talk to Logan ever again. “I guess I deserved that,” he said, trying to shrug it off. “Got too cocky.”

“You still shouldn’t get hurt! Are you okay?” Logan insisted, hands fluttering vaguely like he was resisting an instinct to check Virgil for injuries.

Virgil’s tailbone was a little sore, which he was absolutely not going to admit to Logan under any circumstances when he’d only known the guy for half an hour, but aside from that—“I’m fine,” he insisted, brushing himself off. “Uh, thanks for the concern, though. I appreciate it,” he added awkwardly.

“Are you sure? You—” Logan began.

There was a loud cry of “FUCK!” from just out of sight that was undeniably Remus’s voice, followed by a crashing noise.

“Oh, fuck indeed,” Virgil said under his breath, and scooped up his skateboard. “Come on.”

Remus was rolling over as Virgil and Logan came into view of him; Janus was already kneeling by his side, worry plain to see on their face.

“It was a very cool fall, don’t worry,” Remus yelled over at Virgil, pushing themself up on their elbows. “Ow, fuck.”

“That is not the part I’m worried about, idiot!” Virgil called back as Remus gingerly poked at his knees, which were both scraped and bleeding.

“No no, I’m fine, leave me alone, Virge,” Remus insisted hastily, making some complicated hand waving motions and glancing meaningfully at Janus.

Janus looked very put out by this. “No, you know what, I’m inclined to let him scold you! Why would you not wear knee pads?” they demanded, grabbing Remus’s elbow, helping them to their feet, and guiding them to the side of the rink with motions far gentler than their words.

Virgil paused, watching to see if Janus needed help, but now that it seemed they had it under control much more inclined to give into Remus’s wishes and let them handle it.

“Because anarchy,” Remus said, grinning up at Janus and leaning all his weight on them, legs shaking slightly.

Janus pushed him to sit on a bench with a fury that still managed to be gentle. “First of all, that is not what anarchy is, and second of all, even if it were, that’s still an objectively stupid decision to—”

“Oh, no, what a terrible mistake I’ve made,” Remus said with a shit-eating grin that told Virgil he knew the definition of anarchy perfectly well. “If only there were a smart, sexy nonbinary person around who knew all about anarchy, who could tell me what it really is while they tenderly bandage my wounds!” They cast themself back on the bench dramatically, draping the back of their hand across their forehead.

Janus flushed slightly. “You could have just asked,” they said, and though their voice still had an annoyed bite it was softer now. “You didn’t have to get hurt before I gave you more attention.” They sank to their knees on the ground in front of him, examining the scrapes on his knees.

Remus sat back up, reached out, and cupped Janus’s cheek in his hand, leaning far into their personal space. “Trust me, babe,” he said, and then something too low for Virgil to catch that made Janus flush a brilliant shade of red.

Remus grinned and sat back, his fingers slowly dragging against Janus’s skin as he removed his hand from their face. “I have a first aid kit somewhere in here,” he said in a more normal tone, digging in his pockets and procuring a small white plastic box. He hesitated, eyes flicking to Janus. “If you don’t want—”

Janus rolled their eyes and shook their head. “Give me that.” They grabbed the kit and flipped it open, pinning down Remus’s legs with their elbows. “Don’t move.”

Remus only rested his cheek on his fist, gazing down at Janus with a look on his face far softer and fonder than Virgil thought they’d ever admit to, should he call them out on it.

“So,” Logan said in a low voice to Virgil, “please help me out here. Are they dating? I can’t tell.”

“I’m so glad I’m not the only one who’s unclear on that,” Virgil responded in a similar tone, going to go pick up Remus’s abandoned skateboard. “I—I don’t think so? From the way Remus talked about this beforehand, I would have been sure not. But then they—” He gestured vaguely at Remus and Janus.

“Exactly!” Logan agreed. “I wasn’t even sure if Janus liked them back before we got here, from how they talked about him.”

Virgil snorted, watching Janus gently sponging Remus’s knees clean with a shockingly tender expression on their face, which up until now had been haughty. “That must have been a trip.”

“You have no idea.” Logan shook his head. “Alright. I will continue to allow it to be a frustrating mystery, since you don’t seem to have the answer either. Do you wish to attempt skateboarding again before we have to return these?”

Virgil glanced at his watch; there were only seven minutes left. “I dunno. It feels like Remus getting hurt kind of killed the mood for it a little, you know?”

“I can understand that,” Logan agreed.

They checked their skateboards and safety gear back in (Virgil deposited Remus’s skateboard next to the bench he was on as they went), and then made their way back outside. The sun was starting to reach just the sort of angle in the sky where it was annoying no matter which direction you were facing, so Logan and Virgil retreated to the shade of one of the nearby trees.

“Did you know,” Logan began, examining a fallen leaf on the ground, “that you can actually eat magnolia blooms?”

“Wait, oh my god, yeah!” Virgil sat up. “I haven’t done it before, but I really like making preserves.” It was a good activity for days when his anxiety just wouldn’t go away no matter what he did, because it took a long time and a lot of hands-on work that always helped to take himself out of his thoughts for a while.

Logan lit up, adjusting his glasses and peering at Virgil with keen interest in his dark brown eyes. “Really? That’s fascinating! Tell me more!”

That was honestly all it took to get Virgil to start explaining his hobby, and if he’d thought Logan had been paying attention to him when he talked before, that was nothing compared to this eager interest to learn that Logan was now displaying. He asked just the right questions to egg Virgil on and on, and occasionally interjected facts of his own, some of which Virgil knew and some of which he didn’t. It sounded like Logan didn’t have much actual experience with preserving food, but a decent framework of theoretical knowledge.

“I wish I could see what that looks like in practice,” Logan said at one point, as Virgil explained the way fruit jellying worked.

“I mean, I bet there’s videos on YouTube,” Virgil said thoughtfully.

“Yes, but it’s not the same, you know?”

Virgil turned this over. “Tell you what. Jellying is a lot of work, and I don’t think we could really do it in a dorm kitchen, but here. Give me your number. I’m down to show you some kind of preserving method. I’m sure we can figure out a way to make it work with what we’ve got.” He dug his phone out and opened it to a new contact page.

Logan’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“For sure, dude.” Virgil handed him the phone and watched as he punched his number in. “It’s been a while since I did any kitchen work anyway, I could use the destressor.”

“I would love that, thank you!” Logan said with an enthusiasm that was absolutely catching.

Virgil chuckled. “No problem.” As he reaccepted the phone from Logan, he noticed the time at the top of the screen. “Oh, shit, it’s nearly three. Do you have anywhere to be?”

Logan blinked. “Really? It doesn’t feel like it’s been long at all.”

“I know, right?” Virgil agreed with a small laugh. Talking to Logan was surprisingly enjoyable, given how rare it was for Virgil to really like the company of new people.

“I do have a paper due tonight that I haven’t started yet,” Logan said thoughtfully.

“Dude, what? Oh my god.” Virgil felt the onset of deadline panic setting in, even though it wasn’t even his own deadline. “What do you mean, you haven’t started?”

“Oh, it’s fine.” Logan waved his concern away. “It’s only three pages, I can do it no problem by then.”

“But, like, research? Drafts?”

“No, I already know it all. I can find sources to back me up easily. Trust me, I know what I can and can’t get away with when writing a paper. I only need to worry about drafts and research when it’s five pages or more. Anything less than that I can write the day it’s due and still get an A.” Logan spoke with an easy confidence that would be annoying in almost anyone else, but that somehow couldn’t quite manage to put Virgil off. Not after the absolute delight Logan had shown over the last half hour as he learned from Virgil.

“If you say so. I still hate that,” Virgil told him.

“That is what most people say when they learn about my homework methods.” Logan nodded. “Should we gather up our companions—oh.” His eyes widened as he looked over Virgil’s shoulder. “Um.”

Virgil turned to look too. “Wow. Uh.”

Remus and Janus were—well, to put it bluntly, they were making out. Much more extensively than was probably appropriate, given the public setting. Remus had Janus backed against a wall, with their legs around his waist as he held them up and kissed them, sloppy and desperate and gleeful, like he was on a mission to map and memorize the shape of their mouth. Janus was clinging to him tightly and kissing back like they’d never get another chance to.

“Um,” Logan repeated again, frantically looking anywhere but at their friends. “Well. That is. Something.”

Virgil laughed a little, also looking away. “Yeah… I mean. I guess now our question about dating is maybe answered?”

“I hope so,” Logan said fervently. “However, just at this moment, I feel a strong inclination to, ah, pretend I don’t know either of them.” He chuckled, but Virgil got the distinct sense he was only half joking.

Virgil snickered. “I mean, I feel like they’d deserve it at this point if we deserted them. Want to head back to campus together?”

Logan perked up. “Really?”

“Sure, dude. You seem pretty cool.” Virgil offered an awkward fistbump, and after staring wide-eyed at it for a brief second, Logan returned it.

“You seem cool as well,” he said. “Shall we?”

“Let’s do it.” Virgil got to his feet and followed Logan to the bus stop.

Virgil wasn’t normally one to get his hopes up, but he hoped this Logan guy would stick around for a while. He seemed like exactly the sort of person Virgil could have an amazing friendship with.

Taglist: @fivehargreeves05

67 notes · View notes

anonthenullifier · 3 years

Note

In a follow up to Billy coming out to Tommy, how would Tommy come out to Billy? Would he even say anything or would he just appear with a boyfriend one day and cackle as Billy’s brain recalibrated?

Thank you so much for the ask! In case anyone wants to read Billy coming out to Tommy here it is. Below this is Tommy coming out to Billy...and Wanda and Vision because I figured the whole family should find out. I hope this meets your expectations of how Tommy would do it!

———

It was supposed to be an escape room. One of the ones where intellect wins and the biggest challenge would have been dealing with a bored and grumpy Tommy. “He is never planning,” Billy twirls around, arms engulfed by pulsating electric blue, and slices a chainsaw wielding robot in half, “again.”

Teddy’s glorious smile tempers his annoyance...marginally. “We are trying to escape,” he crushes a tentacled, monstrous vacuum-like robot between his hands, “and it’s a room.”

If Teddy wasn’t so stunning in situations like these, Billy would seethe for longer, but the sheer elation on his boyfriend’s face as another onslaught falls under their combined might is enough to make it seem a less horrible idea. Until his annoyance at his brother’s idiocy surges back. “This would be Tommy’s idea of a chill evening.”

Expertly Teddy deflects. “Where are they?”

It’s not something Billy had thought about in the ten minutes of endless fighting, but now that Teddy points it out, both Tommy and the newest recruit, David, are not visible. “He’s um,” Billy reaches out mentally, quickly finding the frenzied mind of his brother, the pattern of his thoughts like watching a pot of boiling water right before it bubbles up and over the rim. With practiced ease he latches on, keeping his own mind detached enough to not be dragged into the whirlpool of chaos, “they’re on the other side of that tower.”

“Race you?”

Billy grins, hanging back a second to appreciate the view, and then his hands alight and he rises into the air, body leaning with the current and wrists rotating forwards and backwards as he clears all obstacles from his path. If he allows his eyes to stray down to watch Teddy’s path of destruction, no one’s the wiser, neither Sam nor Carol here to scold him.

Five feet before Teddy reaches the base of the tower, Billy opens a portal, diving headfirst into it and then pops out of a second portal past the makeshift finish line, just in time to paint on his best faux innocent grin. “What took you so long?”

The dry “Congrats,” is made more genuine by the loving kiss that follows.

Tommy’s frantic “David!” ruins their moment.

“Shit.” Billy follows his boyfriend’s eyes up to a little walkway on the tower where David stands, hands gripping a rickety railing and glasses reflecting the menacing lights of the encroaching robot battalion.

Blue energy crawls out from between Billy’s fingers, his body gearing up to fly up and help their teammate, until Tommy sprints over. “I got this,” and then becomes a blur, zigzagging up the ramps and stairs, bowling through the last of the mechanical foes until they all crash down from the tower.

“He’s such a show—“ Billy freezes, head tilting to the side as Tommy scoops up David bridal style and executes a perfect Maximoff rescue, their lips meeting in fevered presses, David’s arms wrapping around Tommy’s neck, and their attention focused solely on passionately celebrating. “Um…”

“I told you David had a small crush on me, right?”

Billy’s brain slogs through recent memories, vaguely recalling this information. “Um...yeah?”

“Guess he moved on.”

“Guess so…” The mind isn’t a computer. Billy knows this, has sat through dad’s lectures on the tired and not empirically backed metaphor, and yet right now he feels like a computer that’s missing a vital update, his thoughts desperately trying to recalibrate and refresh itself to process the awkwardly long make out session in front of him. And then they stop, Tommy placing David back on his feet, though their arms remain around each other, and that’s when his twin starts cackling.

“Look at your face!” If this is some cruel joke, Billy doesn’t appreciate it nor does he appreciate the fact that Teddy is chuckling along with Tommy’s riotous glee. “Look at it.” Now David is snickering as well, the mood apparently contagious to everyone but Billy, who’s inoculated to Tommy’s shit by now.

Tommy hoists David back into arms and runs them down until they’re standing in an awkward sort of square-oval formation. “Oh don’t look like that.”

“I’m not looking like anything.” Real convincing.

“It’s not a joke,” his brother hesitates and then clarifies, “okay, depends on how you define a joke, but the message is real.”

What message was he sending? That he’s learned mom and dad’s celebration tactic? That he likes to catch Billy off guard and embarrass him or that...that he and David are still holding hands and that Tommy’s usual confidence is starting to crack and a spur of fear that never, ever exists in his brother’s mind has cropped up the longer Billy stays silent. All at once Billy’s chagrin disappears, replaced by emphatic happiness, one that manifests with a chuckle at the ridiculousness of his brother.

“Finally connect the dots?”

“Yeah,” Billy pulls his brother into a hug, ignoring the grunt of disapproval at such shows of affection, “thanks for telling me.”

“Of course,” Tommy pulls back wearing the sunniest smile Billy’s ever seen on his face, “had to make sure you knew first.”

A brush of his brother’s mind reveals an evening out of stress and concern, both things Tommy didn’t need to have, but Billy knows firsthand how terrifying coming out can be. “I appreciate it.” Billy steps back, eagerly accepting Teddy’s arm around his shoulders, “You going this elaborate for mom and dad?”

The glance between Tommy and David not only answers his question perfectly, but helps him see the genuine connection they already share and the future trouble of dealing with a mutually devious couple. “I have a few ideas, if you’re willing to help.”

———

Everything is set. There’s a conspicuous rope ladder hanging out his window, the banner is strung up over the table with his cake and party hats, he’s got a box of party poppers under the comforter, and, most vital to it all, David is laying next to him.

“You nervous?”

Insanely. “Nope,” he’s a pretty gifted liar but the little quirk of David’s eyebrow lets him know he isn’t fooling anyone. “Fine, a bit.”

He has, for a long time, made fun of Billy and Teddy’s little reassuring kisses, but now that David tenderly brushes his lips to Tommy’s forehead, he’ll have to admit it’s a little calming. “Me too. This is going to be my first time meeting your parents outside of uniform.”

Oh shit, he hadn’t even thought about that or how awkward this all might be for David. Other than the crushing fear that their acceptance and love can only extend to one child (something he knows is not true but still can’t shake), Tommy has no qualms with the method of coming out they’ve gone with. He thinks back to all the talks (the many many many talks) dad has had with him on respect and consent. Things he has considered and put into practice but it feels way more important now. “If you aren’t comfortable with this…”

“I’m fine, just nervous,” another kiss, but this one on the mouth and exciting instead of soothing, “and really looking forward to the cake.”

It’s a three tiered cake, each layer a different color of the flag, all wrapped in white buttercream, and in the fanciest writing Billy could muster it says: I’m bisexual . They argued over whether to add an exclamation mark, but Tommy himself would like to insert the enthusiasm instead of the frosting doing it. “Me too.”

There is the tell-tale chime of vibranium phasing through a wall and the less easy to spot sound of wind going through his dad’s intangible body. Good thing Tommy has snuck around enough to recognize it. “Come here,” he pulls David closer, deciding if they’re going to have to incur suspicion, might as well have some fun with it. It’s successful, the chiming moving from outside to inside the master bedroom and then footfalls let them know his parents are outside the door. Tommy steals one more kiss, “You ready?”

Except David can’t let him win and sneaks one more. “Are you?”

“Yep.” He is. He has never been more ready in his life which is why it’s aggravating that there hasn’t been a knock and the door hasn’t clicked open. “Be nice if they moved faster.”

From outside there is a muffled conversation, one that sounds like it involves a lot of gesticulating and disagreement. Then he can hear Billy, his guardian angel, chime in, “You can’t let him get away with it. That’s not fair.” What a sly and loving asshole.

Dad sighs, and it’s a deep one, one that means he’s exhausted from his mission and just wants to relax but now there are shenanigans he has to deal with. That’s when the knock comes, followed by, “Thomas?”

David giggles and Tommy does his best to shush him, only that just encourages it further and now Tommy’s sniggering as quietly as he can. “Thomas?” A more forceful knock and more barely subdued laughter. “Thomas, I am opening the door.”

His fingers grip the party poppers as he waits for the light to switch on and then Tommy leaps up with a “Surprise!” The first party popper bursts to life, confetti flying all over his comforter. “I’m bi!” The second popper erupts with even more force.

It’s through the settling confetti that he sees the confusion on mom and dad’s faces and suddenly it all feels too much, too elaborate, too close to a joke. Even Billy’s double thumbs up from the hallway doesn’t allay the dread circling in amongst the swirling shreds of paper. He tracks every movement of his parents’ eyes as they take in the cake and the banner and the streamers and oh...yeah this is awkward, “Um and this,” Tommy helps David out of the bed, “is my boyfriend, David.”

Mom and dad look at each other, some unspoken thing passing between them and then dad walks over to the table, grabs two of the pink, lavender, and blue striped party hats, hands one to mom and then delicately slides the elastic band of his under his chin. “It’s nice to meet you David,” they shake hands and then dad, without asking permission of any kind, wraps Tommy in a tight hug. “I love you.”

This is usually when he squirms away, utilizing his super speed to avoid such displays of affection, but this time he allows it, reciprocating the hug and smiling as mom joins in to make a Tommy sandwich. “We love you so much.”

“Thanks.”

After about a minute it’s a bit much though, something his brother senses, exuberantly declaring, “Anyone want cake?” David, bless his heart, takes on the role of cake slicer and disher, passing out the plates and making sure Tommy gets the corner with the most frosting.

It’s all a bit surreal, a bit too wholesome for his tastes and yet it’s also perfect, mom’s hat askew while dad grimaces at the overly sweet frosting she offers him, Billy chatting happily with David over some punch, all under the handcrafted banner of Guess Who’s Bi?

Tommy smiles, digs his fork into the cake, and joins them, feeling more like himself than ever before.

#tommy shepherd #billy kaplan #Wanda maximoff #vision #scarlet vision #wandavision #Teddy Altman #David alleyne #tommy maximoff #billy maximoff #ask anon #mine #The maximoffs

48 notes · View notes

vintagedolan · 4 years

Text

hands to yourself (gbd)

ethan is sick of the pda and challenges you and grayson to a 3 day no touching bet. but what happens after 72 hours is a different story...

word count: 4.9k

warnings/tags: smut (it’s about damn time ladies), angst, lots of sexual teasing, lets have some fun shall we

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

Many things happened when you were making out with Grayson. Getting clocked in the side of the head with a pillow was not usually one of them.

“Will you two keep it in your pants for two fucking seconds,” Ethan grumbled, obviously the perpetrator of the flying pillow that had connected with your face a few moments prior. He had good aim, you’d give him that.

“Fuck off,” Grayson grumbled, but he detached his lips from yours, settling to lay on you instead. It wasn’t an unusual position for you to find yourselves in - Ethan in the chair, you and your boyfriend sprawled out on the couch while you watched a movie. Most times you’d be laying on top of Grayson, cheek on his chest, his hand running gently up and down your arm or back. Sometimes he’d lift your shirt some so he could scratch your back, skin soft under his fingers. Other times - like now - he’d be wanting the attention, scooting down and nuzzling up on your chest so you could play with his hair or trace shapes on his skin.

Either way, it seemed to get under Ethan’s skin.

“You fuck off, I live here too I don’t need to see you two all up on each other 24/7,” Ethan shot back, obviously annoyed. It didn’t usually bother you - he went through phases where he’d get lonely and be a bit more annoyed at the PDA - Grayson was quite handsy if you were honest. On the other hand though, it could get annoying sometimes. You would like to be able to make out with your boyfriend on your own couch without the comments from the peanut gallery. And it annoyed Grayson 10 times more than it did you.

“Chill guys,” you sighed, not wanting it to get any worse.

“Nah, we’re about to take a trip in the van and I’m not about to wake up to you two fucking next to me cause you can’t keep it in your pants,” Ethan huffed back, movie long forgotten as he got heated. “You literally cannot keep your hands off each other, it’s gross.”

For some reason, that comment got under your skin a bit more than anything he had said prior. You were a mature adult who could control herself if she wanted to. And you could prove it too.

“Bet.”

Grayson stiffened, lifting his head. He knew how competitive you could be - it was one of the many reasons he loved you - but combined with Ethan’s inability to lose, it got dangerous sometimes. Bets were never good when they were between you and his brother, and you could tell he was worried.

“What are we betting?” Gray murmured, not liking where the conversation was headed.

“Okay fine.” Ethan perked up a bit, loving an idea of a challenge and completely ignoring his twin. “One week, you all can’t touch each other when I’m around.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Grayson immediately shut it down. You put a hand on his arm, calming him a bit. This was between you and Ethan now.

“A week is too long. I’ll give you three days,” you offered. Grayson turned to you, incredulous.

“Absolutely fucking not?” He said it to you this time, but you squeezed his arm again, signaling for him to hear you out.

“I can do three days,” Ethan offered. “But if it’s only three, then you all can’t touch each other at all. Like even when I’m not around. Strict no touching policy for three days. It’ll be a good cleanse for you horny fucks.”

“Fine,” you agreed, narrowing your eyes at him.

“What?!” Grayson balked. You just grinned.

“But. If we make it the three days, you’re never going to say another snide comment about us touching. Ever.”

Ethan paused at that, really considering what he would be giving up if you managed to pull off the bet.

“Fine. But, if I win, I get to say whether or not you can be all lovey dovey and shit, and you have to listen.” There was a wicked look in his eyes; if he won he’d be ruthless, no doubt.

There was a whole lot at stake. But the prospect of being able to do whatever you wanted with Grayson, wherever you wanted, without Ethan’s commentary was too good to pass up.

“Deal.”

“Oh, so I don’t get a say in it? Cool, cause this doesn’t affect me at all,” Grayson chimed in, obviously annoyed.

“Okay, but how nice would it be if he couldn’t say shit about us,” you quirked an eyebrow at Grayson and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

You were right, and he knew it.

“Fine,” he conceded, knowing you’d get your way no matter what he said. “I’m in.”

“Shake on it,” Ethan said, getting up from his chair and walking over to you. You reached out, giving him a firm handshake and a nod. When you let go, he turned his wrist, looking at his watch.

“Alright, it’s 11:35. Time starts now, disperse,” he grinned, gesturing to the two of you. Grayson moved off of you with a huff, scooting to the other end of the couch.

As soon as he was gone, you realized just what you’d signed the two of you up for.

It was going to be a long 72 hours.

day one

It was only 9am, and tensions were already running high. Ethan wasn’t giving up any ground - he hadn’t even let you and Grayson sleep in the same bed the night prior. Which meant Grayson, being the gentleman he was, let you take the bed and he took the couch.

So, feeling well rested and in a good mood, you headed for the kitchen. Grayson was there, as you expected, typical avocado toast in hand. But when he saw you, he immediately groaned, dropping his head to the counter as you opened the fridge.

“What?!” You asked, laughing a bit. When he looked up, you could see the frustration in his eyes.

“Could you at least try to not make this any more fucking impossible than it already is?”

“I’m just getting yogurt...” you said innocently, holding up the cup you pulled from the fridge only a few moments prior.

“Yeah, but you could at least wear a fucking bra,” he pointed out, eyes trained on your chest. You hadn’t really thought about it - you were in one of Gray’s shirts, which was oversized on you. But now that you looked, you could tell that the cold air of the fridge had made your nipples hard, the ghost of them obvious through the fabric.

“Bras are uncomfortable,” you countered, pointing your spoon at him.

“Yeah? Well so are blue balls.”

His voice was so serious that you both just stared at each other for a minute, and then you couldn’t help it. You broke first, starting to giggle and then both of you were cackling like middle schoolers.

Once you’d finally calmed down and wiped away the tears you were crying, you continued eating your breakfast, perched on the counter by the stove. Grayson’s eyes were on you, specifically on your tongue as you licked yogurt off the spoon.

“You know, Ethan won’t be up for another few hours. He’d never know,” Grayson wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Nah, we don’t cheat in this house. A bet is a bet.”

“Well this bet sucks.” His voice was garbled around the last bite of toast that he was chewing.

“I know. But hey, it’ll be worth it. Then we can do whatever we want, and he can’t say shit,” you reminded him.

“We’re gonna drive him nuts,” Grayson grinned, and just those words sent goosebumps rising across your skin. Stop. Stop that. You couldn’t let yourself get lost in a daydream, especially when you weren’t allowed to touch him - that would just be self torture.

But it was too late. Now all you could think about was how normally right now, he’d be standing in front of you between your legs, hips pressed against the counter, his hands in your hair, lips on yours.

“Uh... babe? You good?” Grayson’s voice pulled you out of the image. His brows were furrowed, and you watched as he nodded to the floor, where a small dollop of yogurt had splattered. It must have slid off your spoon while you were lost.

“This bet sucks,” you repeated his earlier words, suddenly very much regretting your decision.

“Friendly reminder that you started it,” he grinned deviously. “Were you daydreaming over there?”

“No.” You answered too quickly. Dammit.

“Oh... well in that case, I guess I’m just gonna keep myself busy then. Might go build. Or lay out. Not sure yet.” That mischievous glint was in his eyes and you groaned. He knew exactly what he was doing - something about the focus he had when he was working on a project, with his tool belt low on his hips, sunglasses on and shirtless - it got you weak in the knees every damn time.

And he knew it too.

All you could do was glare at him as he got up and washed his plate before heading back to your room. Sure enough, 20 minutes later he was outside, carrying wood across the yard to where his saw was set up.

You sat in the living room, watching him work while you drank your coffee. Watched his muscles ripple under his skin as he hoisted 2 by 4′s over his head, powerful arms doing it with no effort. He could hold you up with those arms, hold you up while he-

“Good morning, this just in from pining central-”

You turned at the voice, glowering when you realized it was Ethan with a smug grin on his face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you grumbled, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Ooooo, touchy,” he teased, reaching out and ruffling your hair. You reached back to slap his shoulder, but you were smiling. “Or... no touchy.” Ethan cracked the joke, obviously proud of himself.

“That was actually terrible,” you shook your head.

“You’re just mad cause you’re gonna lose this bet,” he said, raising his eyebrows as he headed back towards the kitchen to make his breakfast.

“Not a chance in hell.”

day two

Sleeping on the couch wasn’t ideal, that was for damn sure. Not because it wasn’t comfortable, but because you didn’t have Grayson next to you. After his long day of building you knew that he was sore, and you’d insisted that he took the bed instead.

But that also meant that he had slept in for once, making your morning mission a little bit harder than usual. You snuck into the bedroom, tiptoeing at first, then walking normal when you realized that he was still snoring. He was curled up on his side, shirtless and sleeping soundly, his left arm curled around a pillow that he was holding to his chest. It took you a minute to realize that this was how you usually woke up, with his arm wrapped around you before you turned over and eased him onto his back so you could cuddle.

Stupid pillow. You pushed the thought from your mind as best you could, going over to your drawer and picking out a bikini to wear. It was beautiful out, the perfect day to get some sun. You changed quickly, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and your sunscreen before you headed out to the pool. It would at least help you kill a few hours. You were discovering that things were boring when you couldn’t make out with your boyfriend.

It was two hours later when you heard the doors open, signaling that someone was coming out of the house. You peaked over your sunglasses, unsurprised to see Grayson there.

“Did you just wake up?”

“No. I’ve been awake.” His tone was short, and you frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t play innocent,” he grumbled. You sat up further on the yellow lounge, confused.

“What?”

“You’re doing this on purpose. Out here, all laid out in a tiny bikini when there’s nothing I can do about it. You’re a tease.” He sat down on the other lounge, staring at you. You could tell he was hard underneath his gym shorts.

“I just wanted to get some sun... But, two can play that game. You’re telling me you building all day yesterday was innocent?” You looked at him accusingly, expecting him to laugh. Instead, his eyes just darkened.

“Oh, does me building do something to you?” He knew the answer to that. It fueled his ego that him doing something so simple could turn you on so much, and you hated that you had no control over it. “What exactly does it do to you, hmm?”

“Stop it,” you muttered, but your body was reacting anyways. Your skin was flushing just from his words.

“Stop what? Stop making you wet?”

“We can’t do anything about it, don’t make it worse,” you pleaded. He was right, you were wet, and you wanted nothing more than for him to fuck you right then and there. But you were more strong willed than that. It was only another 30 or so hours. You would make it.

“I’m going to shower,” you said, standing up and heading into the house. You knew his eyes were on your ass, and you were unsurprised that he got up to follow you, carrying your towel in wadded over his dick in case Ethan was out of his room.

You tried to ignore him as you headed to the bathroom, taking your hair down and starting the water to give it time to warm up. To your surprise, he lifted himself up and sat on the end of the counter, giving himself a perfect view of the glass shower.

“What’re you doing?”

“Watching.” There was a heat in his voice that went straight through you. You swallowed heavy, turning to him. He got like this sometimes, where his dominant side would come out. Usually it was halfway through sex, when he was pulling on your hair, or when you had a particularly bad attitude and he corrected it quickly with a rough fuck.

But there was an intensity to this that had your mouth dry as you started to undress under his gaze. You reached behind your neck, pulling on the string that kept your top together. When the bow came undone, the fabric began to fall, though it didn’t fully reveal your tits until you untied the back and it fell to the ground.

Grayson said nothing, eyes unwavering as you moved to your bottoms. You shimmied out of them quickly, kicking them to the side. Unfortunately, they landed directly in front of him. You knew he’d see the wetness that had pooled in them; it was obvious. That wasn’t going to help matters.

“We can call off the bet. If you want.” You blurted it out - until the last few minutes you didn’t realize how desperate you were to have his hands on you.

“No. We can’t. Now shower, before we run out of hot water.”

You did as you were told, walking over into the water and letting it run over your skin. You kept your eyes closed mostly, but you could feel him watching your every move. As you washed your body, your hands lingered over yourself for just a moment, desperate for relief.

“Don’t you dare.” Grayson’s voice was deep and demanding, making your eyes snap open. He very rarely took that tone with you.

“Touching myself isn’t against Ethan’s rules,” you pointed out, knowing it would piss him off to hear his brother’s name right now. If he wasn’t already going to destroy you when he could, he definitely was now.

“It’s against my rules.”

Just those words were enough to almost make you cum right there.

Why, why had you made this bet.

day three

Getting out of the house was the only option, you couldn’t take it anymore. Especially after the pent up energy established yesterday, you couldn’t handle the stares and the constant need to have his hands on you. If you stayed too long, you’d break the bet.

So, you treated yourself to a bit of a shopping spree for the day. You picked out new clothes from a few stores, even picking up a shirt for Grayson you knew he would love, and some shoes for Ethan. You went to lunch, taking your time, even going to get coffee later on. It was a nice break from the tension, though every time you looked at your phone and saw your lock screen - a picture of you and shirtless Grayson in the mirror - it sent tingles down your spine, reminding you of what you were finally getting back tonight.

Your final stop was a lingerie shop. It was always fun to look at all the pretty lace patterns and colors - usually you just window shopped, but you were trying to draw out the process as long as you could. An emerald green number caught your eye, laid out on one of the tables. It was lace and silk, delicate but sexy at the same time. On a bit of a whim, you bought it, adding the bag to those already on your arm as you headed home. You took the long way, happy to see that it was already 7pm by the time you pulled in the driveway.

Four and a half more hours. That was it. Just four and a half more hours. Surely, you could do it.

When you came in, Ethan was eating cereal, and had already begun sulking. That lifted some of the tension that was hanging over the house, specifically coming from the direction of the living room where Grayson was practicing handstands.

“Awe, is somebody sad they’re going to lose the bet?” You teased, sitting the bags down and digging around for his shoes.

“Time’s not up yet,” he grumbled.

“Well, I got you a pity gift,” you smiled, passing him the box. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks, I’ll need a distraction from you all sucking face constantly,” he rolled his eyes. You knew he’d be grateful for the shoes once he got over his loss.

“Hey Gray, I got you something,” you called, heading to the living room with your bags. He was still in his handstand and he brought himself down slowly, a smooth landing.

“Lemme see,” he smiled. The frustration he’d had yesterday was still there, but he was trying to be helpful, as were you. Spending the day apart had made it easier, and with the finish line in sight the both of you were in higher spirits.

“I can’t remember which bag it’s in,” you mumbled, starting to sit them down so you could look through them. Grayson picked one up, and before you could say anything his hand was in it, no doubt feeling the lace and silk.

He froze, eyes darkening again.

“Is this for later,” he practically mouthed the words, barely speaking so Ethan didn’t hear him.

“It can be,” you whispered back, blushing. He only nodded, a wicked excitement in his eyes.

After the teasing and tension yesterday, you were a bit worried that your new set wouldn’t even survive the night. He had a bit of a habit of ripping things when he got dominant. You supposed you could just buy another one if you had to.

You kept yourself busy after giving him his shirt, looking for distractions anywhere you could. You ate a quick dinner, then decided to take a nap.

“I’m going to sleep,” you announced to the boys, heading towards your room.

“It’s 8:30,” Ethan said, confused.

“Well, I’m probably going to have a long night, so,” you grinned at him. Grayson choked, looking up at you.

“Gross. Go to bed,” E grumbled. You obliged, heading to your room. You killed another hour or so on your phone before realizing that you might actually fall asleep. Not wanting to ruin the surprise, you changed into your lingerie, looking yourself over in the mirror. It was just as flattering as you hoped it would be, accentuating all your favorite areas.

Grayson was gonna lose it.

You climbed back onto the bed, comforted by the feeling of the soft cotton on your exposed skin. You curled up, getting comfy and eventually drifting off to sleep.

The next thing you felt were two large hands on your waist, putting you on your back.

“What the?”

“It’s 11:36.” It was Grayson’s voice, and it clicked.

The bet was over. Thank fuck.

You were suddenly wide awake, and you couldn’t get your hands on him quick enough. His skin was soft and warm as you reached up to his shoulders, running along the muscles until you got to his neck. You pulled his face down to yours, crashing your lips together. You’d never felt anything so good in your life.

“We’re never doing anything like that ever again,” you mumbled against his lips, hands back on his skin, at his waist now, curling around his back trying to pull him closer to you.

“Agreed,” he said, kissing you again before he bailed to the side, reaching over and pulling you on top of him. And suddenly you were touching everywhere. His thighs were against yours, and you could feel his dick against you, his torso wide and strong beneath you as his hands roamed down your side, over your hip and around to your ass.

“Fuck, you look so good,” he groaned, fingers toying with the fabric of your thong. Your hips bucked at the feeling of his hand on your ass, and it created a delicious friction against his dick that had you starting a rhythm in no time. He sat up then so you were on his lap, gravity causing more pressure as you kept grinding, both of your breathing picking up at the sensation. After the pent up hormones of the last few days, you were sure you could cum just like that, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he did too.

He reached behind you, unclipping your bra with ease, pulling it off your arms and tossing it across the room. Then, his hands were at your hips, fingers digging into your skin, lips at your neck as you worked him over.

“Surprised you aren’t punishing me for being a tease,” you mumbled, then gasped at the bite that resulted from your words.

“Don’t tempt me, we’ve got all night,” he groaned, moving you a bit faster. You clung to him tighter, grateful that he’d decided to just focus on pleasure tonight.

“Just wanna feel you.” His words were hardly a warning as he rolled over, putting you back on the bed. He reached behind himself, unlocking your legs from around his waist before he moved down the bed. His hands went to you hips, scooting you up a tiny bit before he hooked his index fingers into the waist of your thong, swiftly discarding it after it was off.

“Look even better like this,” he hummed, crawling up to kiss you again. You chased his lips when he broke it off, only to gasp a bit when you felt him press a kiss to your collarbone. He moved down, cupping each tit and licking and sucking along your nipples until you were squirming. His progress down your torso was painfully slow, each little nip with his teeth making your whole body jolt. By the time he got to your inner thigh, you were begging.

“Please Gray, please fuck, give me something,” you whined, practically writhing underneath him.

“As you wish.” And then his mouth was on you. He knew you better than anyone - and he wasted no time. He worked you over like the expert he was, tongue flat then fast, with just the right pressure. You never lasted long like this, with your hands in his hair and his hands pinning your hips down to the bed. But this might have been the quickest - it couldn’t have been a minute before you were cumming, pulling on his hair as you let go. Your legs were actually shaking, and he pulled back, thumbs rubbing along your skin as you came down, catching your breath.

“Holy shit,” you choked out, trying to swallow as you gasped.

“That was hot as fuck. Didn’t even know you could cum that fast,” he grinned, obviously a bit proud of himself. You didn’t blame him - with that tongue he could have an ego as big as he wanted. He pressed kisses to your hips, then your ribs, the middle of your chest, giving you time to get your breathing back to normal before he caught your lips with his again.

Now it was your turn. You reached down into his boxers, wrapping a hand around his dick. It was heavy and hard in your hand, but his hiss made you stop your movements.

“Baby, I’m already not gonna last, don’t need you making it any shorter and bruising my ego,” he huffed, obviously trying to calm himself down a bit. You moved to the waistband of his boxers instead, pushing them down his thighs. He took them the rest of the way off, throwing them in the same direction your lingerie had flown earlier.

You spread a little wider, reaching for him as he positioned himself over you, his weight on his forearms which were on either side of you. He dipped his hips, teasing you for just a moment, before pushing in. You sighed at the feeling, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding yourself steady so that he didn’t push you up the bed. When he was balls-deep, he kissed your forehead.

“Missed you,” he whispered, and you could have melted right there. “You ready?”

You nodded - it didn’t matter how many times you did this - he was still big, and it always took you just a minute to adjust. Grayson always gave it to you, making sure he didn’t cause you any pain.

He lowered himself down so that some of his weight was on you, and then he snapped his hips back, driving into you with a groan. He was everything you could feel and see, his chest against yours, bodies touching everywhere that they possibly could as he started a quick rhythm.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he groaned, voice deep as he went deeper with every thrust, hitting the spot that had your toes curling, nails scraping down his back.

“Jesus fuck Gray, I’m gonna cum again, fuck,” you said, pleasure loosening your tongue. He moaned at that, burying his face in your neck, biting at the skin he found as he sped up his hips.

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” you squeaked out as your next orgasm hit, every muscle you had clenching up in pleasure.

“God,” Grayson moaned, somehow moving even faster, holding himself up with one arm while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your hips up to get another angle. “Oh fuck,” he groaned. “Jesus baby, fuck.”

And even in your blissed out state, you felt him cum, cock twitching inside you before his weight lowered onto you for a moment, arm still wrapped all the way around you. As soon as he could function, he rolled the both of you over so he didn’t crush you. You didn’t separate at all as you laid on top of him, weak and satisfied as he stayed seated inside you, both of you fucked out and content.

You knew you were probably making a mess and you neither of you gave a fuck, not moving an inch other than Grayson’s hands wandering, fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin. Eventually he rolled over, sliding out of you gently with a kiss to your forehead before he got up and went to get a washcloth. He cleaned you up, as well as what was left on the sheets before tossing the rag in the laundry. He pulled his boxers back on before climbing back in bed.

“All good baby girl?” He gave you a soft smile as he laid down. You used the energy you had left to climb back onto him, unwilling to have any space between you at all after the last three days.

“I am now,” you sighed, content just to have his skin on yours. You just enjoyed each other’s presence for a few more minutes, and then you felt Grayson laugh a little bit underneath you, making you sit up just enough to look at him.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just realized that we won the bet. I kinda forgot, I was just ready for it to be over. But now we can literally do whatever we want and E can’t say shit,” he laughed, hugging you a bit tighter.

“We could literally have sex in the living room and he can’t say shit,” you grinned, quirking a mischievous eyebrow.

Grayson just shook his head with the biggest smile, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.

“Nah. All mine.”

#this put me through the fucking RINGER #and im SCARED cause it's my first smut on this blog #so pls LET A BITCH KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT #grayson imagine #lynds writes #grayson smut #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan imagine #IM NERVOUS #grayson imagines

819 notes · View notes

writtenonreceipts · 3 years

Text

ACOTAR, Feysand ~1.7 words, just a little thing for the holidays.

Home for the Holiday

A fire cackled happily in the hearth as Feyre moved around the living room of the house. She strung garland from the fireplace, keeping the ends from the sparks that fluttered out on occasion. Lining the mantle were stocking hooks and ceramic snowmen.

Leaning over one of the half empty plastic bins, Feyre pulled out a few cheap decorative pillows declaring Let it Snow! and Ho! Ho! Ho!

They were the same pillows from years past. Ones that should most certainly be tossed out and exchanged for new ones, but these were the first decorations her sisters and her had purchased after their parents died. And Feyre couldn’t bring herself to toss them out just yet. Besides, Nesta might kill her if she tried.

“Okay, the hot cocoa is ready!” Elain called out from the kitchen.

Feyre glanced over to see Elain poke her head around the corner. She wore a terrible disarray of mismatched pajamas combined with an apron that had reindeer prancing around on it.

“Thanks, Elain,” Feyre said, she smiled and turned back to the oil painting she had made last year of an angel.

“You want your usual peppermint?” Elain asked, her painfully kind smile alluding to something akin to pity.

“Sure,” Feyre said, if only to get Elain to stop making that face at her.

Elain disappeared and Feyre sighed heavily.

No matter what Feyre had tried the past few weeks, nothing seemed to put her in the mood for the holidays. No amount of baking, shopping, decorating, family time had made a difference.

All because her boyfriend couldn’t be there for the holiday. He’d recently accepted a job promotion, which was wonderful, but it required him to move out of Veleris and to Hybern. Once, Rhysand had sworn he would never leave Veleris, the city he loved so much, but Amarantha had made a far too appealing offer apparently.

Feyre took a deep breath. At least they’d managed to skype yesterday. It wasn’t the same of course. Christmas Eve without him was turning to be unbearable and Elain’s doe-eyed stare was not helping.

Maybe she should just go to bed.

“Merry Christmas!” Nesta called out. She entered the house with a loud bang, followed by a curse. “Hell. I might have broken Lucien’s present. Oh well.”

“Be nice!” Elain yelled. She rounded the corner with a giant mug that she handed to Feyre before going to help relieve Nesta of some of her many bags. “Geez, Nes. How much crap do you have.”

“Some of it’s Cassian and Azriel’s,” Nesta grumbled. She flipped her braid over one shoulder as she hurried the rest of the way into the house and dumped the bags on the couch. “They had something to take care of. Probably a prank. I wouldn’t be surprised if Cassian tried to stuff himself down the chimney.”

“Maybe he should,” Elain mused, “it might actually cheer Feyre up.”

“I’m fine,” Feyre insisted. She punctuated her words by taking a long sip of cocoa, whipping cream staining her upper lip. “We’ll skype all day tomorrow...when he’s not in a meeting.”

“Who does that woman think she is, not letting her employees have time off?” Nesta said. She pulled presents from the bags and began arranging them beneath the tree. “I mean I know we don’t really celebrate Christmas, but it’s a holiday. It’s family time.”

“He’s the project leader for this really important account,” Feyre sighed. “He loves his job.”

“He loves you more,” Nesta said.

The words were so sudden and unexpected that it took Feyre a moment to register them.

“What do you mean?” she asked her older sister.

Neta shrugged as she finished placing presents under the tree.

There was nothing else to say on the topic as Elain demanded a sister picture, followed by a heated discussion of which Christmas movies they watch first. It was barely eight o’clock, but they all seemed ready to delve into whatever tradition they could get their hands on. Or maybe it was just Elain and Nesta trying to distract Feyre from Rhysands absence.

While they were in the middle of one movie, Lucien arrived. He’d finished up his shift as a nurse in the ER earlier than expected.

“We’re just getting to the good part!” Elain told him as he came over to sit on the floor just in front of her. Despite there being plenty of space on the couch, he still was in the habit of avoiding being closer to Nesta then necessary.

“Where are the others?” Lucien asked. “There’s a storm coming in. It started snowing while I was on my way into the city.”

“What?” Nesta demanded sitting up straighter. She paused the movie and looked at Lucien. “It’s snowing?”

Feyre looked to the front window, where indeed, snow could be seen in the distant street lights. A white Christmas for certain.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Lucien was saying.

Nesta was having no part of that, however. She had her phone out in an instant and was calling Cassian.

“He knows how to drive in the snow, Nes,” Feyre said. Her sister held up a hand to silence her.

Rolling her eyes, Feyre stood and gathered empty mugs of hot chocolate to take to the kitchen. Apart from the tree and the small tea lights dangling over the kitchen counter, the house was dark. But not in the miserable sort of way. This was the kind of dark that exuded warmth and hope.

The fire had died down hours ago and was not smoldering, keeping the house toasty.

As she set the empty mugs in the sink, Feyre looked out the window just above and watched the snow falling in thick folds through the night. It made her all the more grateful for being inside right now, but she just couldn’t get over the seed of loneliness in her heart.

She couldn’t cry about it now or else Elain and Nesta would try and cheer her up and it would ruin their Christmas Eve. Rubbing a hand over her face, Feyre filled the empty mugs with water so they would be easier to clean.

Just then the front door burst open and Cassian’s booming laugh broke the silence.

“Merry Christmas!” He shouted.

In the living room, Feyre could hear feet pounding and knew Nesta was jumping up to engulf her boyfriend in a hug. She listened as boots were kicked off and Cassian made a loud noise of pain, likely in response to a punch from Nesta.

“Where have you guys been?” Elain asked.

Cassian didn’t respond. She heard when Azriel entered and took his sweet time to close the door behind him. She would need to put on a thicker pair of socks.

Making sure her eyes were clear, Feyre rounded the corner from the kitchen.

“Do you guys want some hot chocolate?” She asked and then stopped in her tracks.

Because not only were Cassian and Azriel there grinning like five-year-olds but a third person was there too.

Feyre slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, because there disheveled and jetlagged and still breathtakingly handsome was Rhysand.

“Merry Christmas,” he said.

Unable to hold herself back, Feyre ran to him, flinging herself in his arms. He caught her easily and held her tightly against him. Tears leaked from Feyre’s eyes as she buried her nose in his neck. Despite the long three months apart--his touch, his scent, everything was so, so familiar.

“What are you doing here?” She whispered, tears unabashedly slipping down her cheeks. “I thought you said you’d get fired if you came back.”

Rhysand cupped her face in his hands beaming down at her with his brilliant violet eyes.

“It’s hard to fire someone when they’ve already quit,” Rhysand said. He gave her a lopsided grin and shrugged.

“You what?” Feyre gaped at him. “This is your dream job, Rhys.”

“Nah,” he said with a shake of his head. “Not really.”

Around them, their friends and family got distracted by other things to allow the couple time alone. Someone started the movie back up and a Christmas song was playing in the background.

Feyre fisted her hands in Rhysands jacket, unwilling to release him yet. She still couldn’t believe that he was here before her. Nor could she fully grasp what he was telling her.

“I couldn’t keep working there,” Rhysand said. “Not for her. Not in that place. Not so far from you.”

Feyre bit her bottom lip, shaking her head. “You love your job.”

Rhys’ response was automatic. “I love you more.”

No matter how often she heard them, the words still sent a thrill through her. She laughed lightly and looked away from him to where Azriel was stoking the fire and Cassian drew Nesta in his arms as they sat on the couch. Elain leaned her head on Lucien’s shoulder as she mouthed the words along to the movie that played in the background.

The house was full of love and family for the first time in a long time. Feyre had spent so long searching for these feelings of peace and comfort and now she had them. She didn’t want to do anything to alter them--to diminish them.

But she also couldn’t let Rhys walk away from his work.

“Rhys,” she began.

His warm hand slid to cup her chin, gently tugging it up. It took her a moment to meet his gaze. Mostly because she was, again, tearing up.

“Everything about that job was tearing us apart,” he said as he leaned his forehead against hers, “and I refuse to let that happen any more.”

Feyre surged forward and kissed him. There was so much they needed to figure out now. So much to talk about and plan. But for now, she was content to kiss him. Content to be with him, with her family.

“I love you,” she murmured against his lips.

“Merry Christmas, Feyre darling,” he said.

And it was. It was a glorious night together with snow falling down outside, the fire roaring in the hearth, and they were all together.

.end.

thanks for reading!

tags: using my general tags

@tottenhamboys20 @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @bamchickawowow @ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan @sassys-world @sleeping-and-books @superspiritfestival

@my-fan-side @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

#feysand #acotar #acowar #acofas #acomaf #the fanfic no one asked for continues #the fanfic no one asked for #acotar fanfiction #feysand fanfiction #feyre archeron #rhysand #feyre x rhysand

141 notes · View notes

teyvattherapist · 3 years

Text

Twin Swords - Act i - Vita Altaris

“There’s Xiao!” Paimon pointed out and the two of you made your way to the Yaksha currently standing beside the balcony railing of the Wangshu Inn. “Maybe he’ll know how to destroy that statue!” Her words made sense, maybe he would know. The path up to the inn was quick and Xiao didn’t immediately disappear upon hearing you two approach.

~You and Paimon explain what happened in the domain~

Xiao seems momentarily lost in thought as he processes the situation. Paimon opens her mouth to speak when he cuts her off. “In Mondstadt, there’s a man. He’s a captain with the Knights of Favonius. He wields Cryo, hard to miss him. He’d be more suited to help than I.” Xiao directs as he crosses his arms over his chest. Paimon nods and turns to you, a captain that wields cryo and has questionable connections who could that be-

“Let’s go see Captain Kaeya!”

~You and Paimon head to Mondstadt and seek out the captain in the courtyard of the KoF~

“Well hello there, traveler.” Kaeya smiles, crossing his arms over his chest as he eyes you. While you relay the summons from Xiao, Kaeya cuts you off before you get a chance to explain the statue and what happened. “You’re not looking for me, I’m afraid.” Kaeya waved his hand halfheartedly. “You’re looking for somebody in Springvale, I’m not sure if he’s home though. Check near the waterfall nonetheless.”

>“How many cryo captains are there?!”

>”Cryo seems popular with the knights.”

Kaeya laughs, arm around his stomach as he giggles in a way that you always questioned whether or not it was real. “Quite a few I’m afraid. You’ll want to go soon, it’s getting dark.” Kaeya straightened out, a small smirk on his face as he notes the time of day.

“Come on, traveler!” Paimon insisted, floating around you.

~Find the house in Springvale~

Finding the house that sat away from the rest wasn’t difficult, however taking a peek inside the window and seeing an oddly dressed man with Albedo of all people, was surprising enough to warrant a falter in your step. Paimon gasped, hiding on the side of the window as she watched the scene unfold in front of her.

“I heard from my contact that the Abyss Order is planning to create a sort of mechanised God.” The man’s voice was low, you had to press your ear against the door to hear him speak. Albedo hummed, the relatively stoic alchemist seemed distraught by the news.

“Using a God to overthrow the Divine, isn’t that against what the Abyss stands for?” Albedo questioned, waving his hand to the side as he looked up at the strange man, the man in question merely shrugged. “Not to mention, combining technology of Khaenri’ah with such power..”

“Yes, dangerous indeed. I must admit I find this all troublesome. The location of the statue hasn’t yet been revealed to me, however. My contact is-”

You furrow your brow when the speaking ceases, were they just speaking quieter? “What are you doing eavesdropping on us?” A voice behind you and Paimon startled you both, your companion shrieking as she turned around to stare at the man that was previously inside the house.

(How did he get out here? There shouldn’t be a back door..?)

The door opened and Albedo looked down at you, teal eyes blinking. “Honorary Knight, Paimon. Don’t worry about them, they aren’t here to cause problems.” Albedo lifted his head to look at the man who hummed, arms crossing over his chest as he walked by you, Albedo moving so he could enter what was supposedly his home. “Come inside.”

Inside the house you’re able to explore the open floor plan of the kitchen and living room. A jar placed on its lonesome on one of the counters in the kitchen held a black flower, glowing blue lines pulsating through it. It was interesting indeed, unlike anything you had ever seen so far in your exploration of Teyvat. (An immortalised flower given as a favour from a godless traveler.)

“This is Medical Captain Ohm Ambros. He’s with the Knights of Favonius, our main medical practitioner.” Albedo introduced them, the man in question raising a hand to give a short wave, a lingering smile on his face. Now that you could see him better you noted the odd marks on his face, two navy blue crescents under each eye. Not to mention the various scars that littered his facial features.

Paimon introduced you and herself and you went to check out the bookshelf, a smaller one compared to the rest given it was shoved into an alcove in the wall. Only two books catch your eyes, the first volume of a series dubbed the Altars of Reality; a Tale of Favours. And another book, a black and heavy tome that seems to have red script. (A tome on a forsaken art, it’s written in a language you don’t understand.)

The only other thing of note in the living room was a red feathered quill held up in a quill stand on the mantelpiece, so you moved to investigate it while Albedo and Ohm quietly chatted with Paimon. The feather was certainly red, but upon closer inspection it shimmered a strange gold, the same way the medical captain’s coat seemed to shimmer in certain lighting. (The feather of an endless reincarnation given as a favour from the dawn knight.)

“Ohm just returned from a medical expedition in Fontaine, let’s try and make this quick.” Albedo speaking for the captain was odd enough. (Paimon doesn’t think Mister Albedo is being entirely truthful..) Something just felt off about their relationship to one another, of course they worked together. But what else was there? It didn’t help the lilac eyes boring into you unnerved you greatly.

~You and Paimon explain what happened in the domain~

“So Xiao sent us to find a cryo captain and we went to Kaeya but Kaeya sent us here, to you! Apparently you can help us destroy the statue!” You nod along to Paimon’s explanation. Albedo put his thumb under his chin, pointer finger on his lip as he listened intently to what Paimon had been explaining. Ohm finally stopped looking at you, he seemed relatively lost in thought.

“Well, if Adeptus Xiao sent for me, I must oblige. We leave at once.”

“May I come? I’d like to research this statue..” Albedo interjected and Ohm nodded his head. Paimon gleefully agrees, it has been a while since you did any work with the alchemist after all. Plus a familiar person joining you on a journey with the questionable captain would be more comfortable than going alone.

~Head to Liyue and find the domain~

“Back to what you were saying, Ohm, what happened to your contact?”

“I received a letter when I got back to Mondstadt, he’s missing. Though I have a hunch I know where he is now..” Ohm seems to sigh as the four of you walk. “Nevertheless, I’m not worried about him. I’m more worried about the Abyss Order. One nation has already fallen due to a single person’s inability to reel themselves in. We don’t need any more damages.”

(Could he be speaking about Khaenri’ah? How much does he know?)

“Yes, well, destroying the statue should thwart their plans. Where is this domain?” Albedo questions, looking at you and Paimon. You’re nearly there.

Upon entering the domain however.. You find everything to be different. The statue is missing and there are multiple abyss mages. Before you have time to react both you and Albedo are thrown to the side, hitting the wall. Your vision remains just enough to watch Ohm disappear from the spot he was standing in, thus dodging the mitachurl’s attack.. Everything goes black.

“May the Gods be with me!”

You find your entire team revived, sitting at half HP despite the ambush attack. So.. This was the power of the Medical Captain. The captain in question flips his sword in his hand, eyeing the multiple cackling Abyss Mages. Now’s the time to fight.

~Ohm Ambros Trial~

“Well that was a strange turn of events.” Albedo comments once the mages and mitachurl were destroyed. “Where is this statue, traveler?” The blond alchemist questions, turning towards you. It was here previously, then again all of this had been different.. But now..

Ohm bends down, gloved fingers brushing some soil on the ground, he picks some up, rubbing it between his fingers. “I have a contact in Liyue Harbour that I want to investigate this soil. Albedo, let’s split a sample.” Ohm called out and Albedo nodded, bending as well so they could split some of the mysterious soil.

~Find Ohm’s contact in Liyue Harbour~

You blink up at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Who just exactly was Ohm’s contact? Speaking of contacts.. He seems to have so many strange contacts. “Ah, Ohm? It’s been a long time. What brings you to Liyue?” A familiar voice has you turning around, watching as Zhongli closes the distance between you three.

“Mister Zhongli! I’m here on business, I’m afraid.” Ohm held out the bag of dirt and Zhongli took the item without fuss. “I need you to tell me which nation this soil is from, I noted traces of a peculiar stone, I’m hoping you could pinpoint the location for me.”

“Of course, give me a moment.” Zhongli stands off to the side as he investigates the soil. Ohm leaned against one of the pillars while he waited, arms crossing over his chest as he watched the funeral consultant work.

(He seems to know more about everything going on in general.. I should talk to him.)

“Captain Ambros!”

“Please, Captain Ohm if you must defer to me as my rank, I prefer just Ohm though. What can I help you with?”

>”What do you know about the Abyss Order?”

>”What do you know about Khaenri’ah?”

>”What do you know about the Archons?”

Ohm laughs, his eyes squeezing shut as he did so. When he reopened his eyes, you noticed the dull shade of lilac at this distance. There was no shine. “I know everything that I should, traveler.” He answers despite your question. And you are left with a familiar scratch at the back of your head, where did you hear that specific sentence again?

“Favoured one,” Zhongli calls out and Ohm pushes himself from the pillar. “The soil is as you guessed.” You furrow your brow as you wait for clarification, watching as Paimon questions just what that means. But it seems Zhongli isn’t keen on giving answers.

“Thank you Mister Zhongli! Well, Traveler. Your journey with the statue ends here. Unless it turns up in Teyvat again, it is currently inaccessible. I’ll leave the rest of your journey to you. Should you ever need medical assistance, I’m generally at my lab, feel free to stop by my home as well though!” Ohm pulls something from his pouch and he holds it out to you.

+1 Ohm’s Medicinal Cream 4*, restores 40% of Max HP and an additional 1500 to the selected character.

You take the red gel, pocketing the item. With your goodbyes said and done you walk off, but before you got too far you gestured Paimon closer, hiding behind some rocks, where you could still hear but you couldn’t see the mysterious captain and the ex-archon.

“Will you be staying in Liyue long, Moon?”

“After you stupidly gave up your gnosis without thinking? No. You can fell your own demons, Rex Lapis.” Your eyes went wide upon hearing the exchange, favoured one? Moon? It was like one of the stories you read, it sounded vaguely familiar. Beyond that though, this proved that Ohm knows who Zhongli really is.. Not many people can say the same.

“I’ve done my duty.”

“No, your duty was to find a replacement, the same way the previous archons have done. What you did was dodge your responsibilities, place them on the back of Aether/Lumine who will not be here one day. That is far from fair.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“I usually am. When was the last time I was wrong?”

“Many years now, Moon. Tell me, before you go at least, how are your expeditions to Snezhnaya going?”

Ohm scoffed, the sound of footsteps and his voice was now further away. “The Sun remains missing in action. Need I remind you, Prime of the Adepti, I am contracted to Mondstadt, not Liyue. I’ll see you around.” His footsteps faded and you listened to Zhongli sigh before he entered the funeral parlour.

“So let me get this straight..” Paimon started, turning to you with wide eyes. “The medical captain of Mondstadt is on good enough terms with Adeptus Xiao for him to send us to him, he knows that Zhongli is Rex Lapis,” you nod, “he knows Albedo well enough to discuss private matters in his home, he has a book on some ancient art that not even Paimon can decipher..” She trailed off putting a hand to her head as you continued to encourage her wrap up.

“He knew of the statue before it was mentioned to anybody else, he knows something about the Abyss Order’s plans, or at least his supposed contact does, he lies about the expeditions he goes on, and he knows something about the fall of Khaenri’ah?! How are we supposed to trust this guy?!” Paimon whined as she shook her head.

>Kaeya seems to trust him.

>Albedo seems to trust him.

>Zhongli seems to trust him.

“Maybe so, but that calls into question how much we can trust them? Who do you think his contact is?” She questioned out loud and you brought your hand to your face as you thought it over, eyebrows furrowing once more.

(I know everything that I should.. My true name...)

>It’s Dainsleif!

~Quest Complete~

#Ohm Ambros #Story Quest 1 #Genshin Impact oc

31 notes · View notes

highonchocolate · 4 years

Text

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 3

First Previous Next Ao3

Bruce sat at the head of the long oak dining table and waited for his children to make their way into the room for dinner. They came in as a staggered group; Jason arguing about some novel with Dick while Tim and Damian brought up the back as they discussed their patrol routes for the night. After Alfred and Damian helped serve the food, Bruce cleared his throat pointedly and waited for everyone to pay attention.

Once everyone had looked up from their discussions he spoke. “Alfred has a friend named Gina; and she had called this evening to see if her granddaughter could stay with us. She lives in Paris; but her classmates were bullying her and her parents thought a change of scenery would do her some good. I have agreed to let her stay with us in the Manor.” Even before he had finished speaking the table erupted with different questions from his children.

“Bruce are you sure this is wise?” Tim questioned over Dick’s ecstatic squealing (“I’ve always wanted a little sister!!!”), and Jason’s grumbling (“Shut the fuck up Dickhead. I don’t know why the fuck B is bringing someone into this house to live with this dysfunctional family.”). Ignoring his siblings; he pressed on “I mean, how are we going to hide Batman and the vigilante stuff from her?” As Bruce paused to answer Damian stood up and scowled. “Tt. This is a moronic decision. Inform me of when this girl is to arrive and inform her to stay out of my way.” He lifted his chin and crossed his arms before marching out of the room.

After Damian’s outburst, Jason looked over from where he was arguing with Dick and added his input “Timbo’s right, B. How are we going to hide that from her?”

“We’ll have to make sure at least two of you remain in the manor each night so that she doesn’t get too suspicious.” He answered. “Now, the only reason I agreed to letting her stay here was namely for Alfred, and also because of what her classmates did to her”

“What do you mean, Bruce?” Dick questioned. “Did they like assault her or something?”

“Or something” He responded grimly before sending the photo to all three of them.

As they looked at the photo, he observed their reactions to the image. Dick was not smiling for once, and his sunny blue eyes had darkened to an icy frost. His whole body was tense; and his jaw was so clenched his teeth were grinding together. Jason was standing up with two guns locked and loaded in his hands. He had also managed to procure a knife from somewhere, which appeared as he leant forward and asked “What were the names of the people who did this again?” in a completely lethal tone. Tim, already hacking away at his computer responded “Not there yet, but from what I can find out, she goes to College Francois DuPont and she’s fifteen.” He briefly looked up and made eye contact with Bruce before asking “How fast do you think we can get our lawyers onto those kids B?” At the declarations of his children, Bruce closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “We can not file any lawsuits yet, not without Marinette’s permission.” He answered, sighing tiredly. “Marinette?” Dick questioned. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Tim responded instantly. “That’s her name.”

“She will be coming on Monday, and Alfred will be picking her up from the airport. She is also going to attend GA, so someone please tell Damian.” Bruce said as he stood from the table. “Now hurry up, we have patrol tonight, and there have been rumors about a drug ring near Crime Alley.”

---

After coming back from the hospital and having a sleepover Thursday night, Chloé and Adrien were completely sleep-deprived as they trudged into school the next morning. Settling into her usual seat beside Sabrina, Chloé silently thanked all the Kwami that she didn’t have to sit next to Lila. Halfway though class, Mrs. Bustier suddenly frowned and looked at the back row. “Does anyone know where Marinette is? She still hasn’t arrived yet!”

“Probably still sleeping at home! She’ll come in completely late as usual!” Alya cackled. At her words, Chloé felt her entire body heat up with righteous indignity. She opened her mouth to tell that wannabe tabloid reporter to get her facts straight, but then Adrien caught her eye and shook his head. He then pointed at his phone, and mimed unlocking it before pointing to her. Catching the hint, she checked her messages to see that Marinette had sent them a text.

FashionableBug: Mari said to tell Chloé and Adrien not to do anything to Lila or anyone else that starts making stuff up. (From Luka btw)

You’reUnderAgreste: Me-ouch, My Lady. I would never!

QueenofMean: shut it with the puns, Noir. Maribug, I will only listen to you because you’re injured and I’m not going to go against your wishes.

Putting her phone away, Chloé resigned herself to a miserable school day.

---

After school, she walked into Marinette’s room and flopped dramatically onto the chaise, before letting out a long groan.

“That bad?” Mari chuckled as she scribbled sketched one-handedly in her design notebook.

“You have no idea.” Chloé responded.

Their conversation continued into mundane things, such as everyone’s patrol routes, and various theories on who Hawkmoth was. Totally normal topics for teenagers. As the day drew to a close, they made plans for everyone to come over to start packing the next day before Chloé left the bakery and headed home.

---

Come Saturday, Marinette, Chloé and Luka spent the morning playing board games one handed “to level the playing field” as Luka put it and eating lots of cookies and pastries-provided by Marinette’s parents of course. Adrien and Kagami were attending their various classes until afternoon, so the remaining three spent their time relaxing, and coming up with a list of things to pack for Mari’s stay in Gotham. Two o’ clock rolled around, and the bells over the bakery jingled to announce the arrival of the final members of the packing committee.

Any plans to begin their assignment of somehow fitting all Marinette’s fabrics into the suitcase were cut short by an Akuma.

They all transformed, even though Kagami and Luka has been extremely reluctant to let Mari go even though the suit temporarily healed her injuries. Climbing through her roof hatch, they set out across the rooftops to defeat their latest villain.

---

Five hours later, the teen heroes dropped into her room, and detransformed in various flashes of multicolored lights. They collapsed onto the bed and chairs and silently agreed to just sleep , and get the packing done the next day.

---

All of Sunday was spent throwing various clothes and accessories into Mari’s pink and black suitcase. There were several sweaters and hoodies (added by Chloé), as well as several leggings and many thick pajama pants (Sabine).

Adrien (with the help of Tom) had somehow managed to pack over ten different pun-covered t-shirts, and by the time they were discovered, they had been buried under piles upon piles of fluffy socks from Kagami. Luka also threw in some scarves before Marinette added some toiletries, her sewing kit, and her computer.

Picking up the backpack she had decided to use as a carry-on, Marinette rifled through it to make sure she had everything in there as well.

Spare change of clothes in case she loses her suitcase? Check. Phone, headphones, and charger? Check. Sketchbook and pencils? Check. Disguised Miracle Box? Check.

She turned to her family (Not her teammates, not her friends, but her family.) and smiled. It was small, and bittersweet, but it was a smile. “Alright guys, I guess I’m all set.” She said, before joining them all in a group hug. They offered her soft, tearful smiles before Tom carried her big suitcase down the stairs.

That night, Marinette fell asleep surrounded by all the people she loved, and she couldn’t have been happier.

---

The next day, her Papa carried her downstairs and placed her into her wheelchair (since she had a broken foot, and couldn’t use her leg, they had given her a wheelchair) before wheeling her outside and placing her into the car waiting by the street.

Her friends were all inside, and she gripped Adrien’s hand tightly as they drove to the airport.

As she stood to board the plane, she turned back to catch one last glimpse of them all. Chloé was leaning into Kagami’s side who was holding her girlfriend’s hand tightly. Adrien was waving wildly, and Luka and her parents all raised one hand in farewell. Her Maman and Papa has some red rimming their eyes, but they smiled at her as she was wheeled into the plane. Next stop: Gotham, New Jersey.

Since her flight left Paris at 10 AM, she was set to arrive in Gotham at around 12 PM/noon. With that in mind, she decided to stay awake for the entire flight so that her body could adjust better.

As they crossed the Atlantic, Marinette, sitting in first class thanks to Chloé and Adrien’s combined nagging; popped her earbuds in, and began to sketch.

She stared out the window as she touched down, shocked by all the dog and darkness in the city. As she collected her bags, and wheeled her way outside to look for her host family, she couldn’t help but notice how everyone in this city was much more on edge than most normal people. ‘They act as though they are expecting an attack at any second of the day.’ She mused to herself. Her train of thought was cut off by the sight of an elderly man with a powerful aura standing next to a limo with a sign saying “Marinette Dupain-Cheng”. She wheeled her way over to him and smiled brightly. “Salut! My name is Marinette! What is yours, Monsieur!” She questioned, holding out her hand for a handshake.

“It’s lovely to meet you Miss Marinette, my name is Alfred Pennyworth.” Alfred responded, smiling gently down at her. “Now let’s get you and your bags in the car, shall we?” He reaches out to shake her hand, and the moment their fingers touched her vision was filled with dark blue and red. She laughed and smiled up at him. “It is an honor to meet you, noble Peacock.” She greeted him in the Guardian language, honoring his position as a True Holder. “And it is an honor to meet you as well, Ladybug.” He answered. She grinned and allowed him to help her into the back of the limo before he climbed into the driver's seat and they sped off to Wayne Manor.

---

When he saw the young girl, Alfred was shocked to say the least. She was roughly 5’ 4” (162.5 cm), and was very petite. Her stature, combined with her wheelchair, wrist brace, and the cast on her leg, all strengthened his resolve to protect the young girl from any further harm. That was only intensified when their auras recognized each other. How could anyone place the responsibility of upholding balance on such a young child?

As he drove to the Manor, she informed him that the Cat, Bee, Dragon and Snake were active on her team. Before he could ask her what the threat they were battling was, they had arrived at the Manor, and she had immediately tensed and gone silent.

Deciding that it was better to ask more questions later, he got out of the car to retrieve her bags and chair. Master Bruce and three of his children except for Master Damian were waiting in front of the doors to the Manor, and they all waited patiently for her as she exited the car.

---

Marinette was nervous. Sure, taking to Monsieur Alfred was really fun, and she couldn’t wait to tell him more about Paris, but now she was meeting her actual host family! What if they didn’t like her? What if they decided to send her back?! Then what would she do?? A small cough interrupted her downward spiral, and she looked up from her lap to see Monsieur Alfred waiting in front of the open door with her wheelchair. Grabbing her backpack, she awkwardly maneuvered herself into the chair and allowed herself to be wheeled out in front so she could meet Monsieur Bruce Wayne.

---

Note: Alfred doesn’t know that Marinette is the Guardian. He just knows she’s a Ladybug holder.

#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #luka couffaine #kagami tsurugi #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #time drake #jason todd #dick grayson #lila rossi #alya cesaire #lila salt #class salt

150 notes · View notes

petri808 · 3 years

Text

O5+Itafushi sick/injured/comfort for Anon 😊 totally canon divergent since we still don’t know a lot about their backgrounds and the series is still on going 🙃 Hurt/Comfort, angst w/happy ending. *Does container manga spoiler aspects if you’re not up to date on it.

It couldn’t be helped... logically, Megumi knew this, but what his brain understood didn’t mean his heart could accept. Yuuji was fated from the beginning to die and he knew— Knew that all the man wanted was to die without regret, and saving their world... well how much more honor could one achieve by fulfilling his grandfather’s dying wish? He should be happy for his friend, content in the knowledge that Yuuji gave them a chance to rebuild a better world without the fear of Ryomen Sukuna ever destroying it. Should be... but he wasn’t.

How many times had Megumi convinced himself they weren’t heroe’s, they were just sorcerers. Spiritual police in a sense, there to protect without a desire for acknowledgement. And that their deaths were both inevitable and not immune to regret. All they could do was their best not to garner too much of it and become the very curses they swore to fight. It was why most jujutsu sorcerers learned from an early age not to care about humanity, or at least lie to themselves that it was a possibility. Such bullshit, really.

So, as he stood there staring down at what remained of his best friend’s body, Megumi couldn’t help the regret bubbling up in his very soul. This was literally and figuratively his fault. Yuuji’s, or rather Sukuna’s exorcism was a combined effort in which he’d participated in. That’s not something you can simply set aside. Yes! Megumi was glad that Sukuna was gone, but so was Yuuji! He didn’t care if his friend had been born into, or chosen to, or somehow been trapped in this fate. It wasn’t fair at all. None of this was fair to any of them, just as his own birth had been an unfortunate creation for revenge.

“Fuck!” Megumi gritted out a barely audible utterance as his nails dug into the clenched fists at his sides, and tears trickled down his face. This wasn’t fair at all!

He shouldn’t even be there. If Gojou sensei knew he’d snuck into the morgue he’d be in trouble. But he didn’t care! They didn’t even let him say goodbye to his friend before carting him off to Dr. Shoko. It was for his own good— pfft, fucking uncaring bastards! Yuuji was the first real person he’d ever connected with who gave him back a sense of the humanity he’d lost along the way. The man made him feel, and now. “Fuck...” Megumi knew he was screwed. His heart had crossed the line. Images of a smiling Yuuji play like a movie behind his closed eyes, bringing a pained smile curling on Megumi’s lips. He’d avoided admitting it to himself, but it was true. He’d fallen for Yuuji Itadori.

It had been an unspoken promise Megumi made to Yuuji, one he’d made deep within his heart the moment it had chosen to cross the line. He’d find a way to sever Sukuna from Yuuji and save his love from the ultimate sacrifice. This promise had never been proclaimed from his own lips, but there was no running from the covenant he’d created in his soul. As Sukuna once explained, certain pacts in their works simply could not be broken.

His knees weakened, crumpling Megumi to the floor in a position of summary execution. All of the emotional walls he’d learned to control, gave way in a flood, sending shadowed curse energy to blanket the room. He didn’t even try to stem the flow of power surging out from his pain. It was entirely selfish to lash out with his regret and anger, but Megumi couldn’t stop... didn’t want to let go. “It’s not fair!” He raged into the still darkness. “I should have saved you! If I was stronger, I could have saved you! But I’m too weak... even now, I can’t...” he hung his head head and closed his eyes, “I can’t even let you die properly because you deserve to live Yuuji...” Because I still need you... Damn the consequences, he’ll take whatever comes his way! “Yuuji!!!”

.....Megumi wasn’t exactly sure what happened, how he ended up passed out on his side, or even how long he was laying there. But something gentle brushed against his face, sweeping his hair aside, and caressing it to stir him awake. His body was groggy from the power drain, eyes barely able to focus in the amber emergency lighting. Whatever it was said nothing, just continued soothing him and coaxing with light prodding to wake up. It felt so nice... Wait! Fuck! Was he caught?! Was it Gojou, Dr. Shoko, someone else?!

His eyes flash open wide as he scrambled to sit up, ready to explain himself, but— “Sukuna?!” Megumi screamed in shock.

“What?!” The naked man stumbled back, looking around in a panic. “Where?! He’s supposed to be dead!”

Megumi adjusted his eyes better, because the form in front of him looked like Yuuji, but with all of the same markings as Sukuna, including the second set of open eyes. Although the voice was different... not exactly Yuuji’s, not Sukuna’s, maybe a mix of both. “Who are you?” He asked, noting that the curse energy flowing from this thing was akin to Sukuna in power and this could be a trick from the God of Curses. Is this what his regret had wrought?!

“It’s me,” the figure stepped forward in confusion, a hand over his chest. “Yuuji. Megumi how could you not know it’s me?”

“Because you look like and feel like Sukuna.”

Yuuji looked down at his body and could see the markings too. But that’s when he also noticed something else in the room. His dead body lying on the operating table. His eyes widen as they whip back to Megumi. “Am I?!” His shaky voice cracked.

It was becoming clear. Megumi nodded. “My regret brought you back as a...”

“Curse...” Yuuji breathed out. He was stunned, and yet somehow not surprised. “Wow... but I don’t look like a normal curse.” He could think and feel, “I’m like Mt. Fuji head?”

“I don’t understand it either. I’m so sorry Yuuji— I just couldn’t let you go.” The tears formed again in Megumi’s eyes. “I’d sworn to myself I’d save you, but I failed miserably and for that... n-now you’re a curse.”

“I should be mad at you.” Yuuji knelt down in front of his friend, smiling. “But I’m not. I know all too well how hard it is to let go of people we care about.”

Megumi shook his head. “You don’t understand. I’m being selfish and that’s wrong! I just... I-I just... I love you too much to let you go.”

“You... love me? Like a friend, friend love or...”

Megumi turned away and if it wasn’t so dark his blushing cheeks would be glaringly obvious. “No, the other kind.”

“Brotherly love?”

For a second there, Megumi had to question his own sanity again for failing in love with an idiot. He ran his hand down his face in a huff. “The I wanna kiss you kind! I know you said you like women with big butts and all, but yeah,” he mumbled, “that’s how I feel about you idiot.” His face was truly on fire by this point, only made more difficult by the fact the man he loved was hanging out for all to see.

“Oh!” Yuuji chuckled and sandwiched Megumi’s face between the palms of his hands. “I’m just messing with you. I knew that for a while now.”

“Wait how?!” But dang if seeing Yuuji’s smile again didn’t just melt him. “I kept it hidden.”

“You did, but Sukuna sensed it in you when your domains overlapped, and he showed me.”

Yuuji leaned forward and brought their lips together in an awkward kiss. It was brief, but for Megumi, it solidified how he felt. That yes, he really did love this man and finally! He got to kiss him!

“There was a time I thought Sukuna had a crush on you actually,” Yuuji chuckled. “But then of course, it turned out he just wanted to use you.”

“So... you’re okay with me liking you?” As he spoke, Megumi pulled his coat off and handed it to Yuuji to cover up.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yuuji smiled and put on the coat. “But what do we do now? Technically I’m not alive, I’m a walking, talking curse.”

“Fuck,” Megumi sighed, his shoulders slumping, “I didn’t exactly think this through, just lost control.”

Yuuji placed a hand on his shoulder, “hey, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Megumi couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled Yuuji into a tight bear hug as renewed tears pooled in his eyes. “I don’t care what you are, I’m just happy to have you back.”

Yuuji returned the hug. “Me too.”

Suddenly, clapping echoed through the darkened room seconds before the light switch was flipped on, causing Megumi to flinch. Shit! They were caught so quickly!

“I had a feeling this would happen.”

It was Gojou’s voice. Aww crap!

Megumi moved Yuuji and placed himself between the two men. “Leave him alone!”

“Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head Megumi Chan, I’m not gonna exorcise him. I followed you here, so if I’d wanted to stop you, I would have done so sooner.”

“You’re messing with me.” Megumi narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “It’s our job to dispatch curses. Why would you make an exception.”

“Yes, under the old ways, but as you know, those ways were destroyed by us. As long as a curse is not a problem, I don’t care if they exist.” Gojou cocked his head in an evil grin. “Yuuji is now for you, as what Rika is for Okkotsu. I didn’t exorcise Rika, did I?”

“No...”

“Exactly!” He clapped his hands together. “Having powerful special grades on our side is a benefit in my eyes,” Gojou moved his mask to reveal his own, “and these eyes know everything,” he winks before affixing the mask. “Besides, who am I to get in the way of love,” he shrugged.

Megumi rolled his eyes at that last jab, but Yuuji let out a sigh of relief. “Gojou sensei, do you know why I’m like this?” He motioned to his body. “Shouldn’t I be more like Rika? But I can think for myself and talk, and I feel... well, normal.”

“That’s a good question!” Gojou cackled and pointed at Yuuji. “I have no idea!”

“Ugh!” Megumi slaps his forehead. This man never changed.

“But,” Gojou grew serious in an instant, “I can guess there are three factors involved.” He held up one finger, “Number one! You, Yuuji are no ordinary human but created by a curse at birth.” Raising a second finger, “Number two! You and Sukuna were bonded at the instance of death, so you’ve fused with him.” Adding a third finger, “and lastly, number three! When one special grade sorcerer curses another former special grade sorcerer, that amount of curse energy wasn’t going to create a lower lever spirit. So, voila! You were made Yuuji!”

“But is it like I still have control of Sukuna or something?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Do you still sense him?”

Yuuji paused in thought before shaking his head no.

“It’s likely Sukuna’s soul was fully exorcised, and since Megumi was only thinking of you, it was only you that was brought back. This is just the form your cursed energy has taken. We’ll need to test what powers you’ve retained, but from what I’m sensing, they are on par with Sukuna’s residual energy.”

It’s Megumi who speaks up next. “So, is Yuuji allowed back at school?”

“I’ll allow it, provided your classmates don’t mind. Remember, while you can see him, he’s no longer alive, so normal humans won’t see him anymore. He is just a cursed spirit.”

Megumi and Yuuji looked at each other, then back to their teacher with Yuuji taking hold of Megumi’s hand. “I think they’d get mad if we didn’t return,” Yuuji smiled.

Gojou tipped two fingers as he turned to leave, “then I shall see you in class tomorrow. Try to keep the noise down in your room.” He teased with a cackle.

Megumi flushed red. “He’s so irritating.”

“Yeah, but you gotta admit Gojou sensei’s one of the cool ones.”

“Yeah,” Megumi sighed, but smiled. “Guess we should head back to school too.”

Yuuji squeezed his new boyfriend’s hand and nodded. “I can’t wait to see everyone’s faces when I walk in!”

“Just, no practical jokes like phasing through walls to scare them. We don’t need someone actually trying to exorcise you.”

“Oh, right! I’ll behave.” Without warning, Yuuji then swept Megumi into a bridal carry. “Let’s test my powers! I bet I’m faster than Gojou sensei now!”

“Wait! What are you doing?!”

Yuuji grinned down at Megumi with ruby red eyes glowing. “Trust me.” Cause I’ll kill anyone who dares to hurt you now...

#Itafushi #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi #yuuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #fushidori #yuuji x megumi #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen manga #jjk spoilers #Itafushi fan fic #Itafushi fan fiction #hurt/comfort #angst with happy ending #fushidori fan fic

39 notes · View notes

olivieblake · 3 years

Note

you are such an extraordinary writer, I want to cry. I've been blazing through your fics like there's no tomorrow (I've read clean/marked like six times, but blame my ADHD and spiralling mental health for not being able to read all of our other fics until now), and I'm in the middle of Paradox. Specifically, chapter 17, where Kreacher informs everyone that grindelverse!Hermione was, in fact, not Hermione, and I am CRYING on the floor because of the PURE ART you've described this scene with.

"Consider now the following words: You are not Master's friend. Factor into any relevant conditions....." I AM CACKLING. HOW ARE YOU SO GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO?

I still don't click with and cannot stand the grindelverse!hermione and potterverse!draco couple, and the grindelverse!draco and potterverse!hermione (what can I say? I'm OG dramione trash). but the rest of the book is just magnificent. The plot, the characterisation (THEO!!!!! MON AMOUR), the subtle sarcasm and humour, DRACO'S INNER MONOLOGUE!!!! the NOTTPOTT!!!! (it's my first time reading nottpott and it's official, I'm trash. hinny what?)

OMFG, you amazing, brilliant author, I cannot WAIT to finish devouring the rest of your fics (ESPECIALLY excited for Divination for Skeptics and HTWFAIP), and then move on to your original work.

thank you! I would say that as per the itunes model, most my work can be separated into three main categories: essentials (“popular” fics that contain the usual suspects in terms of fandom tropes—Clean, Marked, How to Win Friends and Influence People, Ride or Die), next steps (for when you know you like my writing but are still looking for more classic fandom aspects—Divination for Skeptics, The Commoner’s Guide to Bedding a Royal), and deep cuts (stuff that doesn’t follow fandom trends at all and occasionally angers people—Paradox, Nobility, Lethal Combination). your particular complaint about Paradox is one of the reasons I stopped writing it while it was being published as a WIP and later went on to post the final chapters en masse so as to avoid hearing the same things over and over again, which is to say that I understand it is not for people who really want something specific out of their reading experience. it is definitely one I wrote after I had already been writing for some time and wanted to approach fic differently, hence the narration style and vastly unpopular (lol, she sighs) approach to characterization

that being said, I’m glad you’re enjoying my work in general and I hope that continues to be true! thank you very much for reading and I hope the other fics are more to your liking

#clean #marked #how to win friends and influence people #ride or die #divination for skeptics #the commoner's guide to bedding a royal #paradox #nobility #lethal combination #Anonymous

22 notes · View notes

cant-blink · 3 years

Text

Favorite and Least Favorite Ghidorah Incarnations

Probably gonna regret making this post, but it’s been a long time coming, so let’s do it. I guess I should warn, not suitable for people sensitive to opinions that might be different from their own. Can’t believe I have to say that about a list of fav Ghidorahs, but alas...

Anyway, enjoy!

Let’s start with my Top 5 favorite Ghidorahs! Going from my most favorite down! All five of these are amazing and any one can easily become my #1 at any given time! :D But at the moment, my number 1 is...

Showa Ghidorah

Showa Ghidorah should come to nobody’s surprise, given how much I’ve been writing about him lately! I admit though, it wasn’t always like this. It took some time for him to grow on me, and he actually used to be one of my least favorite through design alone. But he has grown exponentially on me, and now I love everything about him! The manes are unique and I love the crescent moons on his heads too. His eyes are so big, and I feel they have more expression compared to other Ghidorahs. And the inspiration of the more traditional Eastern-style dragon is there in his face too.

His backstory and personality, though, is what really got me to change my mind about the character. His personality is perfect as far as I’m concerned! Coming from space to destroy planets just for the lolz, cackling maniacally all the way! Even the fact he was mind-controlled was something for me to delve into in my stories, on how such a thing impacts the character. It really opened my eyes to the more subtle parts to his personality, like I realize that Ghiddy wants NOTHING to do with Earth. He tried to destroy it once and that failure is all he needed to know to stay away. The plot device of mind-control is used to keep him coming back in future movies! Even when he defeated Godzilla and Rodan, he chose to fly away back into space! There’s layers to his character if you look deep enough!

There’s just so much story-potential to this guy, I love it! Even in real life, he has an arc, going from one of my least favorites to being the top of this list! That’s definitely special!

Overall, a lot of love for this character, often wrestling with Legendary for the number 1 spot! Speaking of which...

Legendary Ghidorah

The one that started it all for me and they’re second on the list?! Blasphemy!! Nah, seriously though, Showa and Legendary really do often switch places for me all the time! Just right now, Showa has squeezed into the top spot. For now........

Anyway, Legendary Ghidorah needs no explanation for being a favorite incarnation of the character. Whilst Godzilla has always been a very vague presence in my life, KotM’s is what had me diving headfirst into the fandom, all because of Ghidorah. Their design is amazing, sleek and intimidating! The detail that they whip up storms just by flying creates an awesome menacing atmosphere everytime they’re on screen!

The personalities between the heads is unique, providing all sorts of material for my writer side to explore! Their backstory is left open for me to explore as well, like where they came from and how their species functions! It’s been a lot of fun! I may be slightly burnt out from how much I’ve written and posted about them, but make no mistake, I still ADORE this Ghidorah and I have them to thank for starting this whole page in the first place!

Shin Ghidorah

That’s right, Shin Ghidorah exists in official TOHO canon and he needs more love!!

Shin Ghidorah was one I was introduced to not long after I learned Kamata-kun (oh, and Shin Godzilla) was a thing. With my obsession with Ghidorah, I wanted to know if there was a Ghidorah in the Shin universe and after some digging, I found that there was! Featured in a ride in Universal Studios Japan! And better yet, videos of it exists on youtube! I loved it the second I saw it!

The design is amazing and surprisingly unique! This is because Shin Ghidorah was originally a scrapped concept for the original Showa Ghidorah! Like, Shin Ghidorah is basically an oversized three-headed Skullcrawler with wings! Because you see those “legs” he has? Those are actually ARMS!! Ghidorah could’ve been a giant Skullcrawler all this time!!

I also love his movements, oddly enough. He doesn’t just fly, he SWIMS though the air, something I don’t recall seeing in any other Ghidorah!

The only thing I don’t like about him... is the fact that he wasn’t around longer! A shame the ride is so short, I would’ve LOVED to see more of him in a movie. Oh well...

Grand/Cretaceous Ghidorah

Both are the same individual, so they’re both in this entry! I remember learning about him through a video talking about Ghidorah’s most sadistic moment and this was it. Grand Ghidorah kidnaps children with the sole intent to devour them, but he doesnt eat them right away, no. He holds them hostage to stew in their terror, returning to them every so often just to listen to their screams and cries. You know he’s enjoying every minute, knowing he’s torn families apart. Without a doubt, all this is just a game before he destroys the world as Ghiddys do. The way he toyed with Mothra Leo, leaving him to suffer after beating him to near-death. Or the way he possessed one of the Mothra twins to try to kill her own sister! It was great! He has such a regal design too! I can see why the fanbase have come to call him Grand King Ghidorah, he’s absolutely majestic. Shame he’s overshadowed, likely due to not being in a Godzilla movie.

Cretaceous Ghidorah has a more Western-dragon look to him and it works. He is basically a baby Ghidorah and he is so cute! His big eyes and squeaky roars, I love it! He also SOMEHOW made me feel sorry for my least favorite dinosaur! That's some true power right there!

The regeneration ability too, is amazing! This is likely where Legendary got the idea, but Grand does it better by regenning from just a small piece of tail left behind. Just badass, all around!

Void Ghidorah

A controversial pick, I know. I made a whole post about my detailed thoughts on Void Ghidorah, see here. Long story short: I think he has great potential, just suffered from piss poor execution. I love the idea of turning this alien dragon into an interdimensional GOD, with followers and everything. His full-body model looks amazing! He’s the biggest and most powerful Ghidorah yet, the biggest kaiju in the entire franchise in fact, and I don’t see him ever being topped. Granted, I dun really judge how much I like a kaiju based on how strong they are, but it’s a bonus here. He needs all the help he can get!

Adding more, his roars are insane, not just a combination of Showa and Heisei Ghidorah! But sounds that are truly otherworldly.

Void Ghidorah deserves love, and a better movie. Guess I’ll just settle on Godzilla: Star-eating Wings as the go-to Void Ghidorah video!

I have no real opinion on the new ride Ghidorah, as I have yet to watch the full "movie” and thus, can’t judge how well I’ll like it compared to the others. So for now, tis neutral.

Now I’m totally going to get hate for this list of “least favorite Ghidorahs”, but this is my opinion. I don’t like any of them, and they’re all outshined by my favorite non-Ghidorah kaijus, and some even being beaten by my “meh” kaijus! Anyway, this is gonna go from “best” least favorite to my “worst” least favorite. Here goes:

Heisei/Mecha-Ghidorah

Tis no secret that I don’t particularly like Heisei’s version of the character. I’ve mentioned it more than enough. Oddly though, I liked the design when I first looked through Ghidorahs from past movies, and I DISLIKED Showa Ghidorah’s design. How things have changed when I learned more about both of them...

Now I’ve grown to not like Heisei very much. They took Ghidorah as an alien dragon that destroys planets for fun, and turned him into pets that I’m sure are meant to be cute, but just remind me of Furby’s in how creepy they are (tis not the good kind of creepy either!). I like the scrapped idea of him being an attempt to clone Showa Ghidorah from DNA left behind when he destroyed Venus, so I keep that canon in my head just for some attempt to like him more. Tis why I call him “Kitty Ghiddy” whenever I write him, I legit cannot take him seriously. Such a shame that he’s basically replaced Showa Ghiddy on merchandise, so it’s harder for me to find said Showa Ghiddy because of this thing. Oh, well.

Oh, and he replaced the BIDIBIDI of Showa with generic Rodan calls. And he also turns into a good guy at the end of the movie with Mecha-Ghidorah, and.... well, go down to the next entry for my thoughts on stuff like that.

GMK Ghidorah

He’s a good guy here. They nerfed the fuck out of him by having him be a juvenile (not even done well like Cretaceous Ghidorah), and turned him into a good guy. Granted, he was never meant to be in this movie in the first place and it shows. I’m a villain kind of person, and Ghidorah’s evilness is one of the biggest draws to his character for me. So taking that away... It just doesn’t work for me. It says something when I like GODZILLA more than Ghidorah in a movie. His design is okay, so at least he has that going. But...

Desghidorah

I really don’t like the design of the character. That’s literally it. I think four-legged Ghidorahs are very awkward looking; Ghidorah has a lot going on as is, three heads, two wings, two legs, two tails. Adding more legs... it’s just too much going on that tips the scales from ‘awesome’ to ‘messy’ in my mind. I can’t explain too well why I really don’t like the four-legged look to Ghidorahs, I just really don’t. But credit, he does pull off the look slightly better than the last one on my list.

AND MY LEAST FAVORITE GHIDORAH AND LIKELY TO GET A MOB ON ME IS.....

Keizer Ghidorah/Monster X

“An awkward horse” is what someone described him to me as, and I can’t help but agree. Again, that four-legged look breaks it for me but somehow, he looks EVEN MORE awkward than Des. I just can’t look passed it. Maybe it’s the front legs, or the wings looking too small for his body. Des just LOOKS a bit more natural in his four-legged-ness.

Making it worse for me, Keizer has a second form that I REALLY don’t like: Monster X. They don’t even resemble each other. I can’t help but feel MX was supposed to be his own Kaiju, but they felt pressured to make Ghidorah the final boss so they combined them. Dunno if that’s the case, but it feels like that to me. Not even getting into the “how the hell does a dragon come out of THAT, where does it all GO when he changes back?”. And the biggest thing: I don’t like human-looking characters. I don’t care for human characters at all in any sort of media, or anything that resembles humans too closely. I skip human scenes entirely just to get to the monsters. Tis why I don’t really care for gijinkas either. As far as I’m concerned, I like the kaiju for being kaiju, and making them human just takes away all things interesting.

If Ghidorah kept everything intact about his personality, but you made him human... I wouldn’t even give his character a second glance, much less devote my Tumblr page to him! But yeah, tangent over. Monster X just looks too human for my tastes.

Plus, tis hard to compete for my attention when you’re in the same movie as FW Gigan! It says something when Showa Gigan and Showa Ghidorah can share the screen and I love them both, but FW Gigan completely outshines FW Ghidorah...

So there we go, a complete list of my thoughts for every Ghidorah incarnation that I can think of. Hopefully I didn’t miss any. Again, these are my opinions and you’re free to like whatever Ghidorah. I’mma sleep now.

#ghidorah #king ghidorah #godzilla

17 notes · View notes

sproutsgcrden · 3 years

Text

sentinel of naruhata | chapter one

all might hoodies and a random cashier

warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, manga spoilers for my hero academia: vigilantes

word count: 2959

masterlist | read on ao3 | next chapter

want to be tagged? send me an ask and let me know!

There used to be a time when Izuku could remember feeling nothing but love towards his father. Before quirks mattered, Izuku’s father was very involved. Hisashi spent every waking moment he could allow with Izuku and his mother; when he wasn’t working, he was home. It was simple. Domesticated. It was a life Izuku looks back on with a bitter fondness. He was happy, then. But knowing that it was all an act? Those few memories he could recall of loving parents and a happy childhood were poisoned, left to rot under the guise of being a victim of All for One.

After spending years underneath his father’s thumb, he knows exactly why Midoriya Inko was All for One’s priority. Her quirk, Pull, was really a perfect fit for a favorable genetic combination. Hisashi’s use of All for One relied on touch- really, that is the only drawback of his quirk, if you don’t count the pain on the other party’s behalf (Hisashi sure didn’t). It’s no wonder why he would pursue a romantic relationship with a woman who could theoretically provide him with the cure to his greatest ailment.

But, as is usually the case with genetics, there was a major problem for Hisashi. Inko’s quirk gave her the ability to pull objects toward her body- she could not push objects away, only bring them close. When Izuku developed his quirk, Hisashi’s initial plan was to take the quirk and leave. He would have no more use for his wife and son afterwards, so really there was no point in staying. So, when Inko had left the apartment and he tried to take Izuku’s quirk, he was of course met with disappointment. Pull had merged with All for One, and unless Izuku deemed otherwise, the quirk stayed with him.

One last final “fuck you” from his brother. Hisashi had a habit of making mistakes when it came to his family.

So instead of taking the quirk that he so desperately desired, Hisashi was forced to take a different approach. It didn’t take long for his frustration to boil over, and he managed to wrangle Izuku to the bar. Kurogiri took like a fish to water when it came to caring for Tomura, and Hisashi hoped it would be no different with Izuku. His son already reminded him too much of his brother, what with his heroic ideals already formed, best not get too attached and make the same mistakes a second time around.

Perhaps that was another error on his end. Maybe if Hisashi had been a bit more careful, a little more parental, he wouldn’t be in the position he was in now.

Oh, there’s no doubt that All Might and All for One would’ve met when they did, in a clash of blood, guts, and horror. The carnage was unavoidable, as was the comatose state the villain was in.

Which served as the perfect distraction for Izuku to make his get away.

The small convenience store on the edge of the street was lit up like a beacon, drawing Izuku closer and closer. The journey from Kamino Ward all the way to Tokyo took a lot out of him- his father would be disappointed in his lack of progress in just a few days. What should have been merely a seven hour trek on foot took approximately three days. Not only did he find himself having to stop for breaks quite frequently, but he also had to stop every so often in order to hide from his father’s lackeys.

Izuku wasn’t sure what Tomura and Kurogiri thought had happened. He had tried his best to make it seem like he was forcibly taken, even going as far as hiring a low level thug to act like he had knocked him out and taken him somewhere. With the state the underground Boogeyman had been in the last few months, it wouldn’t be shocking that someone would go after his son. But, with the tracker he had ripped out of his neck and the funds he took from the stash in his bedroom, he wasn’t sure if the set-up had worked. What he did know was that his father’s very large army was on the lookout for him.

Which is why he had to find Eraserhead as soon as possible. Izuku had thought about looking for All Might, but even he knew there was no way that a union between the two of them would go well. Plus, he was sure that the number one hero was still healing, even if he had begun making appearances again. He wouldn’t be in the state to take on the seemingly kidnapped child of his most-hated enemy, even if he wanted to. But Eraserhead? Izuku knew that the underground hero would help, even if he had to push a little hard.

The Erasure Hero was always appealing to Izuku, and his quirk was always appealing to his father. Hisashi had been after the man’s quirk for as long as Izuku could remember, though it was put on the backburner once the Noumu project began in earnest. But Izuku was awed by the hero’s ability to defeat multiple enemies, even if his quirk didn’t allow him an even playing field with everyone. And from personal stories of those who frequent Kurogiri’s bar, Eraserhead is much more terrifying in person.

It wasn’t hard for Izuku to narrow down where Eraserhead patrolled; with a little cross-referencing between the few short clips he could find, it led him right to Naruhata Ward.

Izuku pushed forward, barely registering the jingle of the bell positioned above the door to the convenience store. The worker behind the counter gave a half-hearted welcome, clearly distracted by something. Izuku gave it no mind and made his way to the aisles in the back, where he knew they would keep the hygiene items. He grabbed the necessities, crowding them in his arms as well as he could. He also picked up a box of black hair dye; if anything were to give him away it would be his bright green hair.

Izuku meandered through the aisles, picking up small snacks and easy meals. He didn’t know how long he’d have to be on the streets before he found a sliver of activity from Eraserhead- best to be safe. It would be nice to have a bowl of katsudon sometime, hopefully he would be able to find a place soon. He knew it wouldn’t even hold a candle up to his mother’s cooking, but it would be lovely to eat his favorite dish without it being a manipulative gift from his father.

The doorbell jingled again, and Izuku spared a small glance just in case. It didn’t seem to be anyone who was looking for him in particular, but it was best to try and hurry out of here quickly. The trio who had just walked in were talking to each in obscenely loud voices, but what had caught his attention was how the cashier had greeted them. A soft welcome in greeting was cut off abruptly, and Izuku heard the bell jingle once again, this time in a more aggressive manner.

Shrugging, Izuku rearranged the multitude of items in his arms. He really should’ve grabbed a basket when he walked in. He huffed his way to the front of the store, nearly throwing his purchases on the cashier’s counter before he realized the man he had seen earlier was nowhere to be found. Twisting his head, he did a quick sweep of the store, not seeing where the cashier could’ve gone. Izuku thought that maybe he had gone to the restroom- that was, until he heard the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting flesh and bone.

It was a sound Izuku was intimately familiar with- All for One did not hold back in his training whatsoever- so it was easy to pick up on. With a sullen sigh, Izuku made his way through the door once again, leaving his items on the counter. As he turned the corner to the alley next to the building, he saw the trio that had walked in earlier towering over the cashier.

“Like my quirk? It’s called Spike.” The man talking seemed to be the ringleader of the little group, red spiky hair and an attitude to match. The other two were just standing behind him laughing. Izuku felt his eyes narrow as the man continued to speak. “Getting stabbed hurts real bad, y’know. Scared yet?” He moved his leg up as if he was going to kick the cashier in the stomach, and that’s when Izuku decided that he had had enough.

The thing about quirks like All for One, is the feeling of emptiness that settles in your bones once your quirk is gone. It’s jarring, and it definitely throws you off balance. Izuku, luckily, has never experienced it, but a man who traded quirks with his father once described it as “someone throwing you into the deep end of a pool and not knowing how to swim. You don’t know if it hurts or not, but it’s uncomfortable and terrifying.” Izuku’s quirk is different in one major aspect from his father’s- he can only pull quirks to him, he can’t give them back. However, in his multitude of training exercises with his father, the two of them had found a loophole of sorts. Before the quirk fully makes its way to Izuku’s and integrates within All for One, he can let go, and it will snap back to the original owner. So, when Izuku threw his hand out, he fully expected the sight that greeted him.

Instead of landing the kick to the cashier’s stomach, the spiky man faltered. His eyes grew impossibly wide as he sputtered profanities in his shock. Izuku chose this moment to step forward, hand falling to his side as he let go of the quirk. He felt the snap that signified that he had lost hold of the other’s quirk- good, he hadn’t gotten rusty.

“Why don’t you leave the dude alone? He’s at work, I’m sure he’s had a shitty day without you bozos in the mix.”

The man with the spike quirk growled, to which Izuku could only cackle in response. “What the hell is an eight year old doing out here so late? Don’t you have curfew?”

Izuku’s glare deepened. “I’m nine, so shut the fuck up. Unless you want me to take your quirk for good?”

The way the man’s face paled instantly nearly made Izuku feel bad. He hates instilling fear the way his father is so used to doing. It isn’t at all what he wants to be in life. But also, he’s not the kind of person who can just watch an innocent get beat to hell for no good reason.

“No way a little kid like you could take my quirk.” Spiky man shook his head, putting on his tough guy act once more. “So why don’t you stop at playing hero and go home, yeah? The grown-ups have some talking to do.” He let out spikes from his knuckles and held them out towards the cashier, making him gulp in fear.

Izuku, tired and impatient, thrust his hand out once more. The spikes instantly disappeared, and the look of fear returned in full force. “I’m not going to warn you again.”

The groupies in the back began to drag away their leader, who was frozen in disbelief. His eyes were clouded over with an emotion Izuku could recognize so clearly. Everyone who interacted with All for One had glazed-over eyes soaked in petrification. It was hard to miss, and it made Izuku feel awful, even as he felt the quirk snap back into proper place once more.

The group left the alleyway quickly, probably searching for someone else to harass. Izuku did his best to ignore the mutterings of names they were calling him. He was no stranger to being perceived as a freak. That was Tomura’s favorite nickname for him. Izuku let his eyes trail over to the cashier, half-hidden in the shadows. Hardened green eyes met soft brown, and everything seemed to click back into place. Izuku shook his head free of his thoughts and walked the short distance to the hunched over man.

“Are you okay, sir?”

The man looked up at Izuku- not a very far distance, he was merely hunched over and Izuku is still quite short- and gulped. “Oh yeah, I’m fine! Not terrified at all! Everyday I work I’m cornered by a group of dudes I somehow pissed off earlier in the day, ya know? It’s totally normal!”

The green haired child blinked slowly, and the cashier shook his head softly. “Uh, I’m sure you’re ready to get checked out, yeah? It’s pretty late, I’m sure your parents are worried.” He began to walk back towards the entrance of the building, fixing his smock and not waiting on Izuku. After standing still for a few seconds in thought, Izuku slowly followed him.

The monotonous beeping of Izuku’s items being rang up did nothing to cut the tension between the cashier and the glare the owner was giving him. Izuku felt bad, but his shy and awkward nature prevented him doing anything but hopping in place and glancing around the store. His green eyes landed on an All Might hoodie hanging on a rack near the window. Izuku quickly bounded over to it, and decided that, while it was a little big, it was worth the price. Plus he needed a new hoodie after a few days of slumming it on the streets.

Izuku walked back over to the cashier and plopped the hoodie on the counter next to his other items. He didn’t miss the fond look the man gave it before he rang it up and put it in the bag. “This jacket is super comfortable- plus it’s based on his Silver Age costume, which is obviously the best version. I never understood why he changed it.”

“No way! The Bronze Age costume is obviously superior! How is this even a discussion!” The green haired child’s eyes lit up in mock defiance as the two had a short debate over what made each All Might costume better than the other. Many things changed in Izuku’s life once his father took him away- but his love for All Might and All Might related things did not. Though he did have to be more careful in how he was able to show it- neither his father nor Tomura appreciated it when he brought up the hero in a positive light. It was nice to talk about him with a normal person.

The cashier announced his total, and Izuku cringed as he provided the necessary yen for his purchase. He was going to have to be more frugal in the future until he found a way to skimp more money.

“Take care, kid.” Izuku grabbed the plastic bags off the counter and gave the cashier a nod in thanks. Sparing one last glance at the owner, Izuku felt a shiver run down his spine in fear. He did not envy the conversation that the poor man was going to have once he left the establishment.

As soon as Izuku exited through the door, hearing that jingle once last time, he began to stuff the plastic bags inside of his worn yellow backpack. He quickly shrugged off his ragged hoodie, dirty and grimy from being worn on the road for three days, and threw on the brand new All Might hoodie. He would have to find someplace he can dye his hair in peace soon, but that can wait until tomorrow. Looking around quickly, Izuku made sure no unwanted eyes were on him as he stepped into the nearby alleyway. Closing his eyes, he let the power of a stolen quirk flow through his veins. Bending his legs, Izuku hopped as high as could, bouncing from wall to wall until he landed on the roof.

Enhance was what the previous owner of this particular quirk liked to call it. It did exactly what one would think. By using this power, Izuku could enhance his physical abilities, making him stronger, faster, more lithe. It was the very first power that Hisashi had “given” him. Of course, at the time of the quirk being stolen, Izuku didn’t know that he was taking anything from anyone unwillingly. And he most assuredly was not aware of the fact that Hisashi had killed the original holder moments after Izuku left the room.

Despite the dark origins of how he received it, Enhance was one of the only quirks Izuku felt comfortable using. Not only was it helping him get away from the tyrannical hold of his father, but it was also one of the only quirks he had that didn’t affect others. It wasn’t something that could be directly used to harm someone unless he was aiming for it. The other quirks in his possession were destructive and hard to handle. They reminded him of his father, so he tried to push them down whenever they fought to be released.

Izuku narrowed his eyes as he forced Enhance to increase his speed, bounding from roof to roof. He had escaped his father, for now. There was no telling when Tomura would get fed up with the so-called NPCs bringing back failure after failure, and decide to go find Izuku himself. He was on a very tight time limit, though he wasn’t sure of the limit itself. As he raced across the rooftops of Naruhata, only one thought was in his mind.

He needed to find Eraserhead. And quick.

#bnha fics #bnha vigilantes #bnha vigilantes fanfic #midoriya izuku #koichi haimawari #kazuho haneyama #aizawa shouta #vigilante izuku #izuku has afo #afo is hisashi midoriya #bnha fanfic

11 notes · View notes

league-of-thots · 4 years

Text

The Bee’s Knees

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

A/N: pretty happy with how this turned out! pretty nasty though so please read the warnings carefully. thanks @lady-bakuhoe for checking it over!

(sorry for double post it got fucked up on mobile :/)

Warnings: Smut, gun play, violence, dub-con, oral

taglist: @ikinabi, @redbeanteax, @marilla-eldriana, @kittykatkrissa

You’d always had a bit of a boring life. While your friends had been out at speakeasies and dancing with men and woman through the night, you’d had to take care of your little sewing shop. Repairing and making fine clothing you couldn’t afford wasn’t what you’d choose to do if you could, but it was what you had to do to keep yourself fed and safe.

You lived in a decent part of town, although that didn’t stop you from hearing gunshots every few nights between the law and the mafia. But then again, nowhere was completely safe from the mafia, especially with the bosses at the helm now. All of them were young, violent and eager to expand their territory and prove their worth, and the state of the city and surrounding areas were proof of that. But, nothing bad ever really happened to you, so you often ignored it and did what you wanted on your own time.

However, one day your entire life changed just from simply meeting Katsuki Bakugou, one of the new mafia bosses who’d come to power recently.

It had been a normal Tuesday night, except for the fact that you’d ran out of bread. Something so simple and you- albeit annoyed- went to the store despite it already being night. Getting there and getting your bread had been simple, it was getting home that had changed your life.

On a shortcut to get back to your little shop and home as quick as possible, you passed into an alleyway. Where you happened to run into three people, a blonde with his suit all messed up, someone with bright red hair and a lanky black haired man with a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Oh my god- they were all standing around a bloody and beaten body. You drop your purse in surprise and they all turn around sharply to face you. Not caring that you’d be leaving behind money and belongings, you run as fast as you can the opposite way, trying to get to a main street.

You hear them yelling behind you, telling you to stop but all you can think of is that they’re criminals, worst case they’re mafia, and you need to get away.

But they’re bigger, faster and stronger than you are. The red haired one catches up to you first, and he grabs your arm before you can get more than a block away. You try to scream, but as soon as your mouth opens up, his large hand prevents you from screaming and breathing too. You can hear them muttering about what they should do with you as your air supply is completely depleted and you start to black out.

You return to consciousness in perhaps the worst way possible, your headache from being choked out being exaggerated by the really loud yelling coming from a new man in front of the three you’d seen in the alleyway. You shake your head a little as you get your bearings and realize there's duct tape covering your mouth, and ropes tying your limbs to the chair you’re sat on. You begin screaming but the sound is muffled as because of the restraint covering your lips.

Two of the three glance back in your direction which seems to anger the leader who snaps in their faces and starts to yell at them.

“So you accidentally killed the mark instead of subduing them, and on top of that brought back some fucking worthless extra that now I have to find out what to do with. YOU’RE ALL MORONS. GET OUT!”

The three scurry out of the office and he kicks over a stray chair, cursing loudly and sitting behind his desk. You can’t seem to take your eyes off of him. Despite your fear and the obvious lack of self restraint and loud anger he exhibits, you notice he’s gorgeous and has a way of speaking that seems to draw people and energy towards him.

“What are you looking at extra? Hah?” He snaps at you. You just look at him wide eyed and shake your head, showing that you don’t mean anything by it. He snorts and rolls his eyes, and goes back to his paperwork.

You feel incredulous and can’t believe that, after all the fuss he just pulled he straight up ignores the fact that he has a live human captive in his office. You shook your head. How the hell were you supposed to get out of here? Your fear was starting to disappear and in its place annoyance was quickly surging up. You were tired, needed to sleep and had to wake up early tomorrow to get your shop in order. Yet you couldn’t even speak to the man because of the tape across your mouth. So you decide to grab his attention, and the first step of that was making as much noise as you could through the gag. Which unfortunately, wasn’t much. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

So you decided to make a larger uproar, and start shaking on your chair - which was great for making noise, however for staying upright, not so much. You clatter to the floor with a loud crash and let out a grunt of pain as your head hits the floor, your vision a bit blurry.

“What the fuck are you doing? Seriously?” The man in charge yells and starts stomping towards you and you wince in fear as he approaches. He pulls you and the chair upright by a firm grip on your hair, close to your scalp. At this point you’re crying from pain and a little bit of fear and embarrassment. “What do you want?” he asks, even though you can’t answer. You just look up to him with watery eyes, fucking helpless in the current situation..

He curses a bit looking at you, “You know I should just get this over and done with and kill you.” he says, almost conversationally. “You saw something you shouldn’t have and I need to tie up the loose ends of my business. Can’t be on top if we’ve gotten ratted out by a little lady y’know.” His grin is sharp, it reminds you of a wolf. Despite the situation and how close you are to death, you can’t help but be aroused by both his determined attitude and gorgeous features.

Suddenly he rips off the tape gagging you, and you let out a sob in response to the quick pain that burns around your mouth. “If you’re going to kill me, why are you playing around with me so much?” you ask, a little confused.

He just lets out a laugh. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve even been around an upstanding lady such as yourself? Your reactions to things are so refreshing, everything's new and terrifying for you.”

You can hear your heart hammering in your throat as he pulls a pistol out of his pocket and holds it up to your forehead. Your eyes cross as you desperately try to keep the muzzle in sight, even if you know that it won’t make a difference.

“I promise I won’t say anything to anyone! I just don’t want to die, I have friends, I have a job, please, please don’t kill me!” You start pleading with him and straining against the restraints on your arms and wrists, crying because these could be the last few moments of your life.

He cocks his head to the side, emotionless, staring down at you from above - the light from a lamp hits his face as it turns, lighting up his blood-red eyes. When he smiles you feel as if you’ve already signed off on your death sentence, until he starts laughing so hard he has to bend over. It’s an ugly cackle but you’re too shocked at the rapid switch in behaviour to do or say anything about it.

“Oh my god- this is actually a great opportunity, I didn’t even think about it really, but - yeah alright. I’ll give you a choice, what’s your name?” he doesn’t wait for a response. “You let me use you how I please right now or die.”

What kind of choice did you have really? This was your only chance to see another sunrise, to see another normal day.

“Alright.” you get out, the word sounding sad and broken as it leaves your lips. At your agreeance, he backs off to his desk, placing the pistol down and opening a few drawers until he finds what he’s looking for. Out he pulls a wooden case. Inside another pistol, but this one is clean, more delicate looking and has a longer muzzle. He pulls some bullets from the case that it was in and loads the gun, one at a time, making eye contact with you.

What could he be doing with that? You think as he slowly walks towards the chair where you’re tied up, eyes stuck on his. He shoves the muzzle into your face.

“Open up sweetheart, this will go easy or fucking hard depending on your actions.” he smirks poking your lips with the barrel. You feel your teeth cutting against your lips as you resolutely close them. You aren’t going to give him the satisfaction of making this easy for him.

At least that’s what you think until you feel a blooming pain on the side of your cheekbone, the bastard had pistol whipped you and your mouth fell open in a scream. You feel something cold and metal shoved deep into your throat and you gagged harshly.

“I said, fucking OPEN bitch.” he seethes, shoving the gun deeper and you feel your air supply drastically restricted. “Now be a good girl and suck the gun off, my trigger finger is a bit itchy today.”

Sobbing in embarrassment, you begin to bob your head up and down the gun, shaking in fear. You close your eyes rather than have to look at the sick fascination on the man’s face as he sees you work the gun. You know he’s getting hard because of this and as much as you hate the situation you can feel your arousal growing knowing that he’s likely going to fuck you well.

A few minutes pass, the only sounds being wet noises as you blow the gun, the metallic taste of steel taking over your mouth and combined with your fear, making you want to vomit.

“Enough.” he says suddenly, and you drop your mouth open and take deep breaths trying to steady yourself as he takes it out. You open your eyes and feel your heartbeat race as he pulls out a knife in his left hand. You flinch as he brings it to your lower half, but instead of cutting into you, he instead uses it to rip through all your clothing and tears it off. He smirks as he looks at your cunt quivering as the cool air hits it.

“What’s this? Have you been hiding your enjoyment through your tears?” he leans down putting his face near yours and the gun beside up to your head as his fingers ghost across your lower lips. You bite your lip, you’re not allowing yourself to feel pleasured by this. He sees the determination in your eyes and smiles, always excited for any challenge that crosses his path.

He knows he always wins of course.

You feel him enter a calloused finger into your pussy, the slight stretch making you take a sharp breath as he moves it in and out, occasionally curling the digit. Against your will, your body responds to him, hips moving as much as they can while you’re restrained. When he deems you ready, he adds a second in, scissoring them to open you up. His thumb plays with your clit and you let out small whimpers as you feel your core heat up and start to tighten.

“You like me playing with your pretty pussy, don’t you? No matter how much you try to deny it, I can feel you tightening around my fingers, and I can see your eyes start to dilate.” as much as you want to shout that he’s wrong, you know he’s write. You’re not sure if you hate him or yourself more in that moment.

He suddenly pulls his fingers out and looks at you as you whine needily. “Wanna be full again? I have the perfect idea.” he puts the gun on a hook as he takes out the knife again and cuts the restraints on your arms. Immediately you reach to claw at any bit of him you can reach, but he grabs your hands and lets out a tsk in disappointment.

“I thought you were smarter than that. Guess we’re doing this the hard way.” he manages to hold your wrists together in one hand as he gives you a strong backhand across your face with the other, dazing you. Blearily, you realize he’s tied your two wrists together and cut off your leg restraints. He puts your tied arms behind his head and lifts you with one arm, as he picks up the gun once again and brings you to sit on his lap in his large leather desk chair.

He leans back with a self satisfied sigh as he moves his legs to spread yours further apart, watching as some of your juices drip out of your cunt.

“I want you to listen very carefully,” he says lowly, his voice a growl in your ear that makes you shiver. “What’s going to happen is that I’m going to put this pretty loaded gun up your pussy, and you’re going to get yourself off. If you can’t do that within a couple minutes, I might get impatient and pull the trigger. Got it, sweetheart?”

What else can you do but nod? You have no idea if you can even get yourself off only on penetration with the fear holding you stiff, but if you want to live you’re going to have to do it somehow. You clench in surprise as the cool metal is ruthlessly shoved into you without warning, letting out a moan.

His eyes are on you as you gradually start moving your hips into the gun, feeling it reach deep. His wrist moves in time with your movements, helping you out a bit. You try and force out the entire situation and the fear from your mind, focusing on the sensations. The cool metal providing you some sharp pleasure as you pump yourself up and down the muzzle.

You whimper as you start grinding down faster feeling one of the ridges on the weapon hit your clit every time you bring yourself down on it. You lose track of everything as you shut your eyes and lean your head into the man’s neck. He smells almost as good as he looks and you just let yourself go, losing track of time. You enjoy the sensations and soon enough you bring yourself to the edge.

You can hear yourself whimpering and cum with a shout, your juices flowing down the metal and onto his hand. You open your eyes after feeling spent, as he takes the gun out and sends it clattering onto the table. Making eye contact with you, he lewdly slurps the juices from his hand into his mouth.

“Sweeter than I thought. What a good girl you are for doing it right.” He says stroking your face rather condescending. “Now it’s my turn.”

He unbuckles his belt and shimmies them down as he stands up holding you in his arms. He then drops you onto his cock without warning, as you scream from pain and pleasure as he fills your needy cunt.

He chuckles, the sound much deeper than before. “That’s right I want to fucking hear you scream, better yet I’ll give you a name to scream out. Katsuki Bakugou.”

He lifts you almost off his cock and slams you down again, thrusting as you come down making you see stars. Soon you’re only crying his name out as you card your fingers through his hair and tug as you lose sense of everything else but the feeling of his cock in you.

“You take my cock so fucking well sweetheart, I haven’t even found a whore this good.” He practically cackles, speeding up his pace as he chases his own release. He slams your back onto the desk and you howl as your back arches, the pleasure he’s giving you covering up the pain of your body being banged up.

You cum shouting out his name, clamping down on his cock as he releases his load deep into you and takes heaving breaths.

He pulls out and lifts your arms over his head as he gets his clothing back on and straightens out his shirt. You want to move, run, get away, but you can’t bring yourself to even move. The most you can do is blink the tears out of your eyes and blearily look up to him.

“So now I can go right?” You ask, your voice shaking. “You said I could live if you fucked me.”

He just laughs. “I said you could live, I didn’t say your were leaving sweetheart.”

You wail as your heart drops and you realize just how utterly fucked you are.

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #tw: dubious consent #tw: violence #tw: gun play #smut #jays writes

827 notes · View notes