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forlix · 4 months

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"i did a thing." or, hyunjin needs an expert opinion about his newest piercing.

words・1.4k / pairing・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader / genres・fluff, established relationship / author's note・takes place in the same universe as places, places! and crying lightning but can be read on its own. @astraystayyh your children are back :’)

The parlor door jingles. Hyunjin emerges onto the chilled pavement with his phone pressed to his ear, and you pick up on the fourth ring.

“What is it? I’m busy.” The way your voice shrinks substantiates this claim, like you’ve darted to the other end of the room promptly after accepting his call. “And you’re on speaker.”

Hyunjin ducks into his car and sits back against the nylon with a grateful sigh. He finds himself constantly ill-prepared for Seoul’s Januarys. “Busy with who? Remind me.”

“You wanna say hi?” You ask the person in your company. Who is it? He hears them ask, to which you answer: Hyunjin. You say it softly, in the sense that you’re far away and speaking under your breath, but softly, in the sense that your tongue caresses every syllable of his name with that tacit fondness he’ll never tire of.

He notices the ditzy smile on his face only when he glances into his rear-view. He’s long given up on wiping it off.

A familiar voice drifts into your receiver. “Mr. Hwang!”

Ah, that’s right—you’re working on Aespa’s new music video for the next two weeks. Today must be the first day of filming.

“Hey, Ningning! How are you?”

“In a predicament, honestly. I have the biggest crush on my stylist, but so does this other guy…”

“Damn, sounds tough. Best of luck.”

“Oh, I won’t need luck. I said predicament, not competition.”

His jaw hits his wheel. “Okay, we’re boxing. Let’s go. Earrings off.”

“Say less!"

You’ve withstood enough. “Alright, nobody is boxing anyone—do not touch your earrings, Ning, what’s wrong with you? God, Hyunjin!”

Now you say his name sternly, hopelessly, like he’s just knocked ten years off your lifespan. He almost likes this version more. He fell in love with you listening to it, after all.

“Did you call for any reason aside from threatening my clients?”

Oh, right. He did.

Hyunjin glances into the rear-view again, intentionally this time. He moves aside a lock of maroon hair to review the silver studs glinting off his right eyebrow.

He smirks.

“Am I allowed on set?”

Half an hour later, Hyunjin reaches the filming site and runs into a few staff members who are so surprised to see him they nearly forget to question what he’s doing there.

But they do their job, and he humors them, utters your name and the word “boyfriend” back to back. Then he watches their eyebrows disappear into their hairlines and basically prances into the dressing rooms.

He loves that everyone knows you. He loves that everyone knows that he loves you.

You were out of bed before he opened his eyes this morning, and he blooms at his first sight of you today, alone in the lounge, curled up on the couch and browsing through your phone. Eyeshadow stains your fingers and a pen sits behind the cuff of your ear. Your figure is framed in a (his) white cardigan with a red heart stitched over its left lapel. So professional, so pretty, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he uses his words instead.

“I did a thing,” he says, plopping onto the cushion next to you.

You look at him, shut off your phone. “I figured.”

“Promise me you won’t get mad.”

“No.”

It was worth a shot. “Can you blink, at least? You’re scaring me.”

In turn, you stretch open your eyes and hold them there. “A blink would be more than you deserve right now.”

Insufferable. He unleashes a bashful laugh and singular clap and looks back at you just in time to see a matching smile on your cordate lips. And to see you blink.

“Seriously, though, no more suspense,” you plead. “What on earth did you do? Should I be worried?”

You tuck your hand around his bicep and tug lightly at his arm, and his insides pirouette at the gesture.

“No, no,” he answers, letting you pull him close, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I was being dramatic. It’s nothing, really.”

You catch him as he’s trying to leave. A light finger hooks beneath his chin, an anchor to keep his face a mere few inches away from yours.

You look him in the right eye, then in the left, your expression stoic, scrutinizing. He doesn’t remember where he looks, in the meantime. He’s slipping and sliding out of his right mind, drinking in your long lashes and curved cheeks, wondering what heroic deed he performed in his last life to be able to study beauty in such proximity in this one.

“It’s not nothing, is it?” You query, tracing the tip of your pointer finger over Hyunjin’s cupid’s bow.

“No,” he exhales. “It’s not nothing.”

“Did you get it on your face?”

Of course you already know.

He nods, and the finger moves to his lower lip, gently indenting the glossy plush.

“Hot or cold?”

“Cold.”

The finger runs over the bridge of his nose, then the perimeter of its prominence, like the drag of a feather.

“Warmer.”

You lift a brow, give the side of his face a small nudge, and say, turn. The word comes out in a very stylist-esque manner, and you and Hyunjin realize this at the same time, judging by the synchrony of your quiet chuckles.

“Force of habit,” you murmur, and move his hair out of the way and lean in to examine his ear. Nothing new there. He turns his face the other way before you have to ask. Nothing new there, either.

When he looks at you again, your gaze has locked onto his eyebrows. You cock your head slightly to one side as it dawns on you what he’s done.

“Warmer,” he offers anyways, his smile small, his pulse rapid.

With a flourish of movement, you push his purple locks all the way off his forehead. Hyunjin holds his breath. Your expression goes blank.

But it’s not blank, not really. One just has to know where to look. (He does.)

Your eyes darken fast as if caught in a solar eclipse, your pupils doubling in size, your irises quivering slightly. Your mouth opens, then closes, then purses into a thin line as if suppressing something explosive. Your cheeks blush at their very outskirts, along the edges of your face and the slants of your cheekbones, like how the first rays of sunlight always skim the mountaintops first.

He hardly notices the finger you bring to brush over the studs, so carefully he doesn’t feel the contact.

He’s too busy basking in his victory.

Neither of you say anything for a long while. You lean back, then right, then left, your hand pinned to his hairline, your gaze superglued to his brow. He simply sits still, feeling like one of your French girls, simpering, simping.

“You really did it,” you finally say.

“I did,” he chirps. “Any notes?”

At the next part of your lips, your waiting smile overtakes them at long last. You duck your head to conceal it like he hasn’t already melted at its mere image. You deliver your answer to your knees.

“No?” He repeats incredulously, teasingly. “That’s a shame. I really could’ve used an expert opinion.”

You roll your eyes hard enough for them to tug at your sockets. His boyish grin wipes away your feigned irritation like warm cotton.

“Fine,” you grouse. “Look at me.”

He does. You look back.

“It's nice," you deadpan.

Your resolve wobbles.

"Complements your face…shape.”

The ‘p’ sound pops, and you lose your shit.

The sun fully risen now, you bury your burning face into your hands, your shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Meanwhile, the raucous cackle that leaves Hyunjin’s lips causes the intern hurrying past the lounge outside to jump so high he actually lets go of his coffee cups before snatching them back out of the air with a relieved groan. He doesn’t get paid enough.

You think you’re getting paid too much.

“I love it, Hyun,” you whisper. “You’re beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough."

His heart beats so rapidly he thinks it might take off into a sprint; his laugh dwindles into a ditzy smile, one he’s long given up on wiping off.

“You know nothing about that word,” he replies, softly.

You bring your lips to his. His fingers wrap around the crook of your elbow. Yours begin curled in the silken hair at the back of his head. The pen behind your ear falls into the cracks of the couch.

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh against his mouth, your own statement debunked by the inevitable drift of your touch back to the metal lodged in his face.

He doesn’t need to call you out. You do it yourself: “Ugh. I’ll be mad at you later.”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8

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fallenhunnyapple · 4 days

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Sketchy doodles for another AU. Details + a bonus in under the cut

An Angel Lucifer appears in Heaven. No one knows why he's there or how he got there, but it doesn't seem as though the Lucifer in Hell has been replaced, this is just a whole second Lucifer. His memories only seem to go so far as the early days of Eden. Days where he was friends with the First Humans but before he had developed any sort of relationship or even real feelings for Lilith.

Adam, sort of shaken but also sort of Eager to reconnect with his first friend and the more pleasant memories of Eden, advocates to let him Stay. This Lucifer hasn't done anything, he doesn't even know about the Tree of Knowledge and it's not like Eden exists anymore for him to try it anyway. Lucifer is granted the ability to live in Heaven, but Adam will have to be responsible for him. Adam agrees and now has to watch over a Naive and Friendly Lucifer.

Lute is Less than Thrilled. She doesn't like that Lucifer is always around and she doesn't Trust him, even if Adam seems to. She does eventually warm up to him, but given her personality it doesn't really seem like she does. But Lucifer notices and he considers her a good friend. He ends up spending time with just her without Adam (she's basically angelsitting because Adam had other things to do) and they bond a bit and she's willing to accept that he's Not the Devil and that he's no more threatening than most non-exorcist Angels.

And once Heaven determines the same, he's tasked with Working with Emily to maintain the Happiness of Heaven's residents. Emily keeps an eye on him, but mostly they are both very positive personalities that play off each other well and they become fast friends. The first time he spent the day with Emily was the day of the first Extermination since Lucifer got there. Someone had to watch him while Lute and Adam were away. He doesn't know about the Exterminations (Most of Heaven doesn't so it's no surprise), and he doesn't even know about Hell. It was deemed... For the Best if he was kept in the dark about that. No one knows how he came to be and they don't want to risk anything happening because he finds out about the other version of him.

Lucifer is Very In Love with Adam. It wasn't immediately or anything. At first he was just really happy to have his best friend back, especially when everything was so different from how he remembered it, it'd been thousands of years after all. But he spent most of his time with Adam and anyone could tell you that Adam was less of a crass asshole with Lucifer around. Not by much, but enough to be noticeable. And over that time, Lucifer still saw a lot of who Adam was in Eden but also came to appreciate who he was (No one understands why)

It took a while before Adam was comfortable enough to take off his helmet around Lucifer. Sure he knew his human face, but he'd definitely changed over the years and his insecurities about his face were made Worse when Lucifer only knew him at his Best. Lucifer finally got to see him maskless one night when Adam let him see him before bed. And Lucifer was super smitten. Yes his face was Different, but not in a way Lucifer thought was bad. Adam definitely looked Older and Tired, but he thought it was Endearing instead of put off. After that he would sometimes watch Adam sleep-

Adam for his part is in emotional turmoil. Yes, he was in Love with Lucifer in the Garden. But completely against his better Judgement, his feelings have evolved and he's in love with the King of Hell. He's reluctant to think about Angel Lucifer that way because he represents a simpler and more innocent time and he doesn't want to corrupt that with new feelings.

Lucifer eventually confides in Lute about his feelings and she tells him that 1) Adam isn't into men and 2) He doesn't do committed relationships. It won't end well for him if he tells Adam. Lucifer is hurt but appreciates her honesty. He decides to tell him anyway because it's getting hard to keep it all to himself when he's around him everyday.

Well, the confession goes about the way Lute said it would. Adam tells him he doesn't like dudes and he doesn't hold it against him because who wouldn't want a piece of him? But they're still friends, that won't change. Lucifer already braced for it and it hurts but he accepts that answer. The only thing is, now that its out in the open, his friendly nature is So Much Easier to read as him pining and him being in love. So Adam has to just deal with Lucifer's love being thrown at him every day. The behavior hasn't changed Too Much, but his understanding of it has. But other people of Heaven definitely Know. Its so obvious to them that Lucifer is in Love with Adam. Some people criticize Adam for leading Lucifer along and bad mouth him. Lucifer doesn't like hearing anyone talk poorly about his best friend and will chastise and scold them.

It's finally when some winner/angel tells Lucifer he should get Adam flowers (as a joke, they think it would be funny because Adam doesn't have an ounce of Romance in his whole body) that things change. Lucifer does get him flowers! And he gives them to him when they're alone and Adam has removed his helmet. This is the first time Lucifer has been Proactive about his feelings and Adam doesn't have the cover of his Mask to hide his true reactions, so he can't deny how the gesture affects him. He was really only ever able to keep himself in check about his feelings for Lucifer because Lucifer wasn't Doing anything different. He wasn't Pursuing him. But now? Now he can't deny it anymore. Lucifer asks for a kiss and he gets it.

Bonus:

As an Angel, Lucifer didn't know or understand much about sex. It was meant for Reproduction and Angels reproduce asexually so he had no interest in it. It was a thing for the creatures of Earth to have, not Angels. So he has No Idea it's a recreational thing and despite the fact that he knows Adam and Lute fuck around regularly, he just Really doesn't understand why and they don't explain it either. So after Lucifer and Adam are together, Lucifer wants to understand Better and discovers the fact that it is, in fact, something that can be done Recreationally and its supposed to Feel Good. So, of course, he wants to experience that with his new Boyfriend. Let him learn what all the fuss is about~

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #guitarduck #angel!lu au #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel emily #my art #suggestive #but only at the bonus at the end

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astroboots · 9 months

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EVERY YOU EVERY ME #10

COLLABORATED WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Miguel tries to rob a superhero and you try to stop him.

Word count: 5,750

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

It’s another mundane morning in your office. You’re hiding away in your cubicle with your breakfast croissant and coffee, scrolling the news on your phone.

Ever since the cosmic murder attempts have started, reading news hasn't been the same for you. It’s no longer a case of innocently keeping up to date with current events. Because now you can’t read the sensationalist headlines without a small pang of guilt that you may have been the unwilling root cause for so many of them.

‘Apocalyptic blizzard in August.’

‘Stampede escape from Brooklyn zoo.’

‘Freak electric storm causes wide city blackout’.

It’s all just too macabre for you this early, it’s not even 10am. Your eyes flicker down, only skimming to make sure that there has been no casualties involved with each incident before scrolling away again. Then you opt for the technology section instead. Hoping it is a little bit less catastrophic and kinder on your nerves.

‘Tony Stark’s Arc Reactor Returns Home to Stark Tower.’

Your fingers pause at the headline. Stark always makes for a good read and good gossip, you think to yourself as you take another sip from your morning coffee and start to read:

‘Tony Stark, the notorious billionaire philanthropist and avid Star Wars memorabilia collector, has announced his decision to move his iconic arc reactor back to his home in New York City. The self-sustaining fusion power source kept Stark alive during the infamous hostage incident where he was captured and detained in Afghanistan by the Ten Rings terrorist organization’.

‘Self-sustaining fusion power source…’ you repeat the phrase in your head, parsing over the words. Why does that sound so familiar to you?

You read it again, and this time instead of your own voice, the memory of Miguel’s sleep husked voice fills your ears:

“Your world is not technically advanced enough for me to build an upgraded self-sustaining fusion power source that would be needed.”

Adrenaline buzzes bright in your brain, and you stand up from your desk so fast you nearly knock over your chair.

Finally! It’s the Eureka moment you have been waiting for all this time.

You peer over the cubicle wall, scanning the room for Miguel. It doesn’t take you long at all to spot him; his oversized frame is hard to miss. Besides, even if you couldn’t see him, you’d be able to sense the anger vibrating off of him a mile away.

In the corner at the far end of the open-plan office, Miguel is abusing the poor printer again. He’s cramming a fistful of papers into the feeding slot like it’s a duck he’s trying to force feed to make foie gras, and judging from the vein straining on his forehead, the man is about two seconds from lifting the 50 pound machine and launching it out through one of the building’s windows.

You shake your head at the scene. You don't understand how someone so smart, so intelligent, so apt with technology—he built an A.I. so advanced it would make the most high tech of Stark Industry's prototypes look like a kindergartener's chicken scrawl—can be so inept when it comes to dealing with a basic printer.

“Miguel,” you whisper loudly, and despite the fact that he’s on the other side of a bustling office, he immediately turns to look at you.

You beckon him over, practically bouncing with excitement as you wait for him to cross the room, and as soon as he’s within reach, you stand on the tip of your toes and cup a hand around his ear so you can covertly whisper the news of your discovery.

“Stark has an arc reactor.”

You’re beaming with pride that you’ve found a solution to your dilemma, and look up at Miguel expectantly for him to celebrate with you and maybe even praise you.

Instead, he looks down at you without reaction. “What’s Stark?”

"Wait, are you serious?"

You almost think he’s doing one of his sarcastic comedic bits with you, but the angle of his right eyebrow, raised in cluelessness tells you otherwise.

"How do you know so much about Dr. Strange, but not know who Tony Stark is? He’s like the main Avenger."

Miguel merely shrugs at you. "Avengers aren't really a thing where I'm from."

You shove your phone into his hand and watch as his eyes flicker over the screen, reading through the article in a matter of a few seconds. When he’s done, he places the phone back on your desk, then grabs your left hand, leaning down as he lifts it up towards him. For a second you think he’s about to kiss your hand.

"Lyla," Miguel announces, and the watch buzzes warmly against your wrist as Lyla's hologram reforms in the small space above.

"Give me the layout of the Stark Tower, identify vulnerabilities in the security system and outline the most optimal entrance points for a break-in."

Did he just say break-in?

"Wait, wait,” you interrupt quickly, trying to defuse the situation, before he gets too far ahead of himself. “Miguel, we are NOT breaking into the Stark Tower."

"How else would we do it?"

“We could just talk to him. Lyla can hack into his schedule and book us a meeting with him, right?”

“And then what?”

“We’d ask him to help us?” you suggest, not understanding why he skipped straight over the most obvious answer and went right to breaking and entering. Though from the way Miguel is staring at you in blank confusion you may as well have spontaneously grown horns on your head.

“...Nicely,” you add, in case that wasn’t already clear.

“Because that would require us to talk to him. He would just say no, Cielito. I’d prefer to break in. Cleaner that way. More efficient. Easier.”

You can’t believe this man just admitted to being so socially awkward he thinks committing a felony is easier than having to hold a conversation with a stranger.

"Asking is pointless. No scientist is just going to hand over something like an arc reactor to a couple of strangers because they asked nicely. Besides, even if we arrange a meeting with him by hacking into his calendar, he’ll know something is up the moment he sees us. You’ll just wind up getting thrown out by security.”

Ok maybe he has a point there.

"What if we tricked him? Made him think we have something he wants?”

"Like what?"

"Stark collects rare Star Wars collectibles. We can lie and say we're collectors with a rare piece to sell like the Kenner Star Wars Boba Fett prototype?"

His right brow raises at a skeptical angle and he’s staring at you like you’re speaking a foreign language.

"Cielo, that's insane."

You bristle at that.

"How is your idea any better?" you demand.

"A break-in wouldn't require much effort or rely on the goodwill or stupidity of someone else. It’s much easier–"

“You’re talking about breaking into the personal home of an Avenger!” you interrupt because you’re not listening to any more of his madness, “He’s arguably the smartest member of a team made up of the mightiest heroes on Earth, and you want to try to steal from him, Miguel!? That is not easier!”

The office has gone alarmingly quiet around you. You look around to see that your heated discussion is gaining unwarranted attention from the rest of the office. All of a sudden, the endless click and clack of the keyboards stop.

You give your curious coworkers a strained smile, then lean up close to Miguel again, muttering under your breath. “We’ll discuss this when we get home.”

Miguel doesn’t say anything else, but you can feel his eyes pinned to your back as you walk to your chair and sit back down at your desk to finish your croissant in two mouthfuls, chugging down the remainder of your coffee.

An hour before noon, Miguel comes to your cubicle. He sets down a lunchbox and from the logo on the plastic grocery bag you can tell that it’s from your favorite Bodega round the corner.

“I have a quick errand to run for work at lunch. I’ll be back within the hour,” Miguel tells you, “Lyla will guard you, and if something happens she’ll alert me immediately. Don’t go anywhere.”

You look up from your screen to see him stand over your desk with that passive expression etched onto his stoic face, as if there is nothing out of the ordinary.

In the last month, Miguel hasn’t let you out of his sight for longer than a handful of minutes (primarily to get more snacks when they run out).

Miguel thinks he’s being so slick. It’s insulting to your intelligence that he thinks you don’t know what he is up to: he’s obviously going to spend his lunch hour trying to rob Tony Stark.

But that’s fine, you’re not going to openly question Miguel on his suspicious behavior. If he’s not here that means you are free to get up to whatever you want.

… Including approaching a certain multibillionaire that has the one item in his possession that could save both your life and the universe as you know it from collapsing.

It’s why you wave at him as he makes his way to the exit and pay close attention to him leaving through the front glass door and take the elevator down to the ground floor. Then for good measure you wait another five minutes to make sure that he will fully be out of hearing range with his super-senses before you raise your wrist to your face.

“Lyla,” you whisper.

“Hello, boss girl! Wasssuuuup,” she greets, elongating the word sassily for comedic effect, and you can’t help but smile.

Lyla, as entertaining as she is, is an enigma to you. You don’t understand how Miguel with his short patience-span and entirely lacking sense of humor would have programmed this A.I. to have this kind of personality. Not to mention a deep archive of a millenial’s pop-culture media reference from this dimension.

“What can I do you for?” Lyla asks, shooting you gun-fingers with a cheeky flare.

You part your mouth, but hesitate to make the request.

This is illegal isn’t it? Hacking into someone’s calendar to arrange a meeting with them under false pretenses. God, what if you get taken away in handcuffs within the first 30 seconds of entering the building, featured on Deuxmoi as a crazy stalker fan.

So far the only “illegal” thing you’ve used Lyla for is to generate Netflix passwords and hack into HBO Max to watch Succession. This is a significant next level step.

Maybe you should run downstairs and catch Miguel before he leaves the building? You could plead your case again. Try to reason with him that breaking and entering isn’t the way to go about it and the two of you should approach Tony Stark by having a mature and adult conversation.

Yeah. Right. You snort even as you think it. Miguel is never going to be persuaded on this point and you are quickly running out of time. There’s only one thing to do:

“Lyla, can you please arrange a lunchtime meeting for me with Tony Stark today.”

The lobby of Stark Tower is much like any other commercial buildings you’d find in the Financial District. Heck, it's not that much different from the one you navigate every morning at the Chrysler building. If anything, the only surprise is how ordinary the Stark Tower is.

When you enter the main lobby, you have to sign in with a stern but clearly bored security guard, then use the guest security pass you’re given in order to access the elevators.

Once you reach the 90th floor, there is a distinct lack of staff up there. Only a single, sweet-looking old man, with a well trimmed mustache above his upper lip. He's swathed in a soft-knitted cardigan and wearing gigantic vintage-styled sunglasses indoors that make him appear bug-eyed as he peers up at you and walks with you to another set of elevators using a retinal scan for security and sends you on your way.

The door closes around you in the metal box, with a swift jump to the 91st floor.

When the door finally slides open it feels like you’ve entered another world. Minimalistic opulence is the keyword for it. There are windows along the entire space. A 360 view of the New York landscape and you almost feel like you are at an Aquarium with the amount of glass surrounding you. There’s pieces of half-built tech and prototypes everywhere. Imagine having so much money that you can allocate a whole floor of a manhattan skyscraper to essentially be your garage workshop.

“So you’re my 1pm that magically appeared today,” a happy-go-lucky voice sings out.

You jump in your skin, breaking your concentration from the view, as you turn around to see the infamous man of the hour standing behind you.

“Gotta say, when I was envisioning the sort of person who might be selling me a Kenner Star Boba Fett figure, I did not imagine a gorgeous knock-out,” he says, with an outstretched hand as he greets you.

Tony Stark is shorter in real life. Less formal than in the gettymarked photos you’ve seen of him at red carpet events and fancy galas, dressed up in the most tailored fit suits that money can possibly buy. He’s also a lot more charming than in photos. All big brown eyes, and pouty lips. He might be half the size of Miguel, but Tony Stark has more than enough charm and confidence to make up for it

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

He is quick witted banter and dazzling diamond smiles as he shows you the residential suite of the Stark Tower. His hand rests on the side of your waist as he guides you through the long hall, making strong eye contact all the while down the hall. 91 floors up and you cannot hear a hint of the chaotic traffic noise downstairs, it’s oddly quiet save for the faint scratching noises you hear from the ceiling. (Guess even Stark towers cannot escape the city’s rodent issues).

“Anyone ever told you, your eyes really sparkle?” Stark says, as his hand slips from your shoulder to rest at the small of your back. “You’ve got this whole Disney princess thing going on. I dig it.”

Wait, is he flirting with you?

Tony Stark, Chief Executive Officer of Stark Industries. One of the top 20 richest men in America (according to Forbes). A man who can afford to buy the whole of planet Mars is flirting with you.

God, you are already seeing dollar signs. Lobster. Caviar. All the rare exotic and poisonous puffer fish sushi you've only dreamed of eating. You've always wanted to be a gold digger, you've just never been close enough to a gold mine.

Maybe this will be easier than you thought. If he likes you, maybe you can just flirt your way into getting the arc reactor. Ask him to lend it to you.

The two of you make your way past the glass doors and into another imposing large room, bare and minimalistic. Oddly, it feels dimly lit, given the size of the windows in the room.

It’s the size of the front lobby of your office building, and you realize halfway through that this room serves no other purpose except to store more of his junk. There are half built machines piled up in every corner. Boxes and boxes of tools haphazardly strewn across the room. It’s an outrageous waste of prime New York real estate that speaks to the man’s wealth.

In the middle of the room, there’s a silver medal that glows an eerie blue in the middle, encased in a display case. With the way it sparkles, you could almost mistake it for a precious aquamarine gemstone the size of your fist.

“Wow, is that the arc reactor?” you ask.

Stark doesn’t answer. Suddenly his chattiness is nowhere to be found, and as you turn to look at him you notice he’s not paying any attention to you. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling behind you.

You whip your head around and follow his gaze to see the familiar blue super-suit trailing behind you. The unmissable angry red spider embellished across his wide chest, as he hangs upside down like a cat burglar.

Has he been trailing behind you since you got here? Was that what the noises were?

Air whizzes through the space and the force of it reverberates across your cheek. A piece of red armor flies through the air and attaches itself to Stark’s arm.

You’ve seen enough highlight reels of Iron Man on the news channel to know what it means.

“Wait wait wait,” you shout out as you step in front of Stark in mid-transformation.

You fling your hands up high in a gesture of a white flag to de-escalate the situation. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

Stark’s eyebrow quirks up, tipping his head sardonically. "So your costumed sidekick hasn't been stalking us this entire time? Breaking and entering, not just into my tower–which is private property, by the way–but also bypassing security to access my private office? Yeah, I'm sure your intentions are entirely on the level."

Despite the sarcastic hostility in his tone Stark hasn’t summoned the rest of the armor. The rest of his iron suit is suspended in the air on standby two feet away. He’s only got the arm piece strapped to his arm as insurance and is clearly willing to give you at least a few seconds of a benefit of a doubt. Long enough to hopefully explain yourself and not start a Superhero brawl.

“He’s not dangerous,” you say, and the moment you say it, you want to kick yourself because of how suspicious that makes you sound.

You turn your head around to Miguel who’s done an aerial somersault with the grace of a ballerina despite his build and soundlessly landed back onto his feet on the ground.

“I can’t believe you went behind my back! We agreed to put a pin in this and wait to deal with Stark until we agreed on a plan. You said you weren’t going to break in!”

His masked eyes narrow into accusing slits, “Yeah? And what are you doing here then?”

“Stopping you before you do something stupid!” you hiss.

Before Miguel has a chance to retort, there is a loud clap from behind you that redirects both your attentions to Stark.

“Jarvis, how did our lovely Disney princess make it onto my calendar and how did Hulk Spiderman over here manage to slip past every layer of your security net?”

The voice of a posh British man sounds out across the room but there’s no person attached to it.

“I can find no record of these events in my logs. Performing internal diagnostics now, Sir.”

“Huh, interesting…” Tony hums to himself in consideration before he turns his attention back to you both.

“I have to say I'm quite impressed, but I’m hoping for an explanation. Is this a Bonny and Clyde situation? You two lovebirds here to rob me?”

“No!” you both shout in unison.

“Not lovebirds, got it.”

“That’s not–” Miguel starts, whipping down his head in your direction.

At the sight of your face, he seems too flustered to continue his train of thought and he quickly looks away from you. “None of your business,” he snaps at Stark.

You don’t know why, but that dismissive glance from him hurts. Like the very idea that you two would be in a romantic relationship is off-putting to him. It’s kind of insulting. You turn from him, trying to ignore the sharp stabbing ache somewhere in your chest that makes it hard to breathe.

From across, Stark observes the two of you, whatever he sees makes him tip his head in curiosity. The intense pinch between his brow relaxes and the subtle shift in his expression is like witnessing the moment a shark senses blood in the water, then he grins and turns his attention towards you.

Stark grins, turning his attention towards you. "So you're single then?"

You peer up at Miguel and hesitate because that’s a damned good question. You of this dimension is certainly single, but there’s another version of you (a dead one) that’s married to the man next to you.

But that’s not you.

You turn to Stark, "Yes," you answer.

Miguel whips his head to you, eyes wide. "No!" he bellows.

"The lady says she is, big blue."

"And I say she's not!" Miguel growls, the last word ends on such loud volume it could break the sound barrier.

Miguel isn’t the best at reading cues. You’ve known Tony Stark for all of five minutes, and even you can tell that the man enjoys riling up people, Miguel is feeding right into that.

Stark acts like Miguel is speaking at a decibel that he is unable to register. He saunters up to you, with the most carefree gait you’ve seen anyone carry around Miguel.

"So are you free tonight?" Stark asks.

You spot Miguel’s bristling expression and hesitate for a second time.

It’s mean, you shouldn’t rile Miguel up like this. His entire back is curved up like a hissing cat. The man looks like he’s about to blow a casket, acting like a jealous spouse. And somehow under Tony Stark’s attention you feel like you are the adulterous wife.

Except once again, you’re not. Because you are not Miguel’s wife.

… Why exactly are you pining after a man still grieving his dead ex-wife who happens to look like you?

You're currently homeless. Your take-home salary as an insurance adjuster can’t afford you a new apartment in New York, not with the rising inflation and the current state of this economy. This is your highway express ticket to the charmed life of being a billionaire ex-wife.

Bye bye to 9 to 5’s and having to manually enter data into thousands of excel sheets everyday. Jeff Bezos' former wife, Mackenzie Bezos was awarded 25% of their Amazon shares valued at over 38 billion dollars. Stark is twice as rich as that.

You slide closer to Stark. "Maybe? Where are you gonna take me? Somewhere fancy?"

"Yeah, no! Absolutely not!" Miguel interjects.

He steps forward to drag you behind him, until his mountainous body blocks you from the man.

“We need the arc reactor.” Miguel announces brusquely, with no fanfare and even less by way of explanation. “If you won’t give it to us, I’ll just have to take it.”

“What do you need it for?” Stark asks curiously.

“That’s none of your business,” is the blunt reply.

Stark tilts up his head, gaze pinned to Miguel’s mask. “You know, I’m not really minded to give away proprietary technology to a man wearing a wrestling mask in broad daylight.”

There’s a stalemate between the two men as they stare each other down (or up in Stark’s case). The showdown is silent, you can practically feel the tumbleweeds rolling by, waiting to see who’s going to draw first.

“He can take his mask off,” you interject.

At your offer, Miguel’s eyes narrow, nose turning up in the air in a put off gesture, refusing to do as he’s told.

“Mig,” you warn, and despite the clear scowl etched onto the features of his mask, this time, he complies.

The blue and red fabric recedes into nothingness, until the fierce cut of his bare jawline is revealed. Eyes glowing an angry crimson.

The scowl on Miguel's face is so ferocious, you can see his fangs in clear view. But instead of scary. Instead of intimidating. He looks... almost cute. All you see in front of you is a teething puppy with no real bite. He's harmless.

Stark makes a low whistling sound at the dramatic reveal of Miguel’s face. “Didn’t expect the fifth member of One Direction under there.”

Miguel glares at the man, even though you know fully well that he doesn’t understand the pop-culture reference that’s being made.

“So let’s take this from the top,” Stark says, and he starts to pace the length of the room until he reaches the arc reactor and gives the display case a light smack like he’s tapping the rear of a mare.

“You need my arc reactor, but you won’t tell me why, and you’re not offering me anything in return, except for El Tigre over here not trying to kill me, is that about right?”

“What’s your price?” Miguel asks, voice in that low growling tone that always precedes a threat.

“I’m a multi-billionaire, cash doesn’t really interest me, and I can’t exactly have this fall into the wrong hands.”

“We’re not bad people, and we’re not going to use it for anything nefarious. I know this sounds absolutely nuts, but we need your arc reactor to save the world,” you say.

Stark chuckles at you, the way an adult would at a naive child. “That’s not really much to go on hon, you’re gonna have to give me more than that.”

“Wong, the Sorcerer Supreme, he can vouch for us.”

Stark considers you for a moment then tilts his head to take an appraising look of Miguel, eyes dragging from the sole of his suit-clad heels and up to his neck where the suit ends.

“The unstable molecule fabric you have for the suit is interesting. I’ve been meaning to give my suit an upgrade, and having it disappear into thin air would be convenient. Wouldn’t have to constantly lug around 2,000 pounds of metal everywhere I go with me. Hand me a sample of the tech along with full intellectual property rights and we’ll talk.”

“No.” Miguel says.

He straightens up his posture and crosses his arms over his chest with a haughty expression on his face. “My suit is technologically superior to all the technology you’ve got in this building combined. It’s a bum deal. Your arc reactor has palladium in it and would be poisonous for long term use. It’s practically defunct and I only need it for a one time use.”

God, this man really doesn’t know how to endear himself to anyone does he.

“He doesn’t mean that,” you step in.

“Well if it’s practically defunct, I wouldn’t want to pawn this junk off on you,” Stark responds, throwing up his hands in feigned defeat. “Besides, it has sentimental value to me. Not sure I’m willing to just give this away to some random guy who broke into my house.”

Miguel’s lip twitches in irritation until you see another flash of those fangs like they’re itching to sink into Stark’s throat.

That only seems to entertain Stark further. “Look, you clearly need this reactor for something big, and for some reason you’re not able to build it yourself even with your advanced tech on display here. You’re obviously in a hurry, and in a desperate situation. Desperate enough to break in, and you know the saying: beggar’s can’t be choosers. I wouldn’t be much of a businessman if I didn’t take advantage of that.”

Miguel narrows his eyes, glancing around at the electronic equipment stored in the corner of the room. “I need you to throw in the laser scalpel along with the 3d printer and genetic sequencer,” he says, cocking his head in its direction.

“Wow, toots, your boyfriend has real expensive taste,” Stark teases.

Your cheek warms at the term boyfriend, but you don’t correct him.

Neither does Miguel. Instead Miguel looks him squarely in the eyes and juts up his chin. “I want the Sonic disruptor too.”

“Fine,” Stark announces, holding up his hand in the gesture of a time-out to stop Miguel from listing out more expensive items. “You drive a hard bargain, Blue, but what the hell. It’s a deal. I’ll even give you a newer palladium-free model of the reactor so I can keep old sparky here for myself.”

The sun is setting against the skyline of the city, washing it in strokes of warm amber-orange hues. Miguel is still grumbling next to you as the two of you stroll along the Brooklyn bridge.

“Supergenius, Ha! Si los zombies comen cerebros, él sería invisible para ellos. What do you see in that guy anyway?! He’s not even good looking. He’s like what? 5 feet tall? He was wearing built in heels, you know! Es más corto que las mangas de un chaleco–”

"Can you pipe down?” you say, cutting off his tirade, “Just let it go, please. It's been hours! I didn’t see anything in him. I have no desire to be the next notch on Tony Stark's bedpost.”

That finally seems to end his rant, or at the very least slow it down. Miguel shuts his mouth, staring out over the river. “Then why did you tell him you were free?”

“Because I wanted the arc reactor! I figured letting the guy flirt with me might help. Catching flies with honey and all that.”

He folds his arms over his chest, with a skeptical furrow in his brows. “You wanted him to take you somewhere fancy; that’s what you said,” he points out.

Damn him and his super-genius memory.

“Well, maybe I also wanted to eat at a Michelin star restaurant one time in my life. Manila Social Club is supposed to have a golden donut made with champagne jelly and actual gold on their dessert menu.

“That doesn’t even sound tasty,” Miguel mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets. His mouth settles into an unhappy frown.

“It would have been if I didn’t have to pay for it!”

“I could’ve gotten it for you,” he says, and it’s not until you take a better look at his face that you realize it’s not so much as a frown he’s sporting. It’s a pout.

Oh, is he… ? He is, isn’t he!

“You have nothing to be jealous of, you know. I’m not interested in Tony Stark,” you reassure him.

In front of you, the rigidness in his shoulder seems to melt at your words.

That surprises you. You’d have expected him to deny the accusation that he’s jealous. Adamantly object that he wasn’t, and why would he be, you’re nobody to him. Just a random stranger that happens to look like his wife that he cannot leave well enough alone.

He doesn’t do that though. Instead, his only response is a quiet, “Okay.”

His docileness takes you by surprise.

Is he admitting that he was jealous?

You'd be lying to yourself if you said that you didn't take even a morsel of enjoyment in the comical way that Miguel is getting himself riled up over you. To have him flustered and openly jealous of Tony Stark flirting with you.

As if Miguel had anything to worry about.

As if Tony Stark, a man who has ‘philandering philanthropist’ as a description for himself on his twitter bio, isn't known to be so indiscriminately flirtatious he’d eagerly court a voluptuously shaped tree.

As if that man of 5 foot 6 (with platform shoes) would ever hope to occupy every one of your thoughts the way Miguel does.

Immature and childish and inane as your behavior back at Stark Tower was—and you feel mildly ashamed of it now—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it in the moment. Not because Tony Stark, multi-billionaire, GQ's Most Eligible Bachelor five years running, was flirting with you.

No. Because for a moment you got to experience what it was like to have your rude protective Spiderman treat you as his girlfriend. Someone he was possessive of. Someone he treasures. Someone that is his. Instead of your current reality, where you know he belongs to someone else entirely.

“If anyone has anything to be jealous of, don’t you think it should be me?” you say, the words slipping out of your mouth before you can reign them back in.

Miguel tilts his head, regarding you like a cute, confused pup, so you continue.

"Because I could never compete with her, right?"

"Her?" he asks, seeming genuinely puzzled.

"Your version of me," you say, "your Nena." You try to smile, try to keep it light-hearted, like the funny joke you had meant it to be, but it hurts even just to hear yourself say it. Because you know it's not a joke.

It's true. You’re in love with a man whose affections aren't yours to win.

Miguel stops in his tracks, and that makes you stop as well.

"It's not a competition," he says seriously. "You're two different people. You can't compare like that.”

You feel like you’re being scolded and probably rightly so. You’re being childish and unreasonably trying to compare yourself to his dead wife. But that doesn’t mean that it makes it hurt any less to hear you don’t compare at all. Your heart fissures and cracks, and the first sting of tears starts to well up behind your eyes.

"You're important to me too," he continues.

The words stop your heart, your eyes dart up to his face. The look on his face is gentle and soft, and it soothes the pain in your chest away, a gentle warmth rising to take its place.

“Oh,” you say. You can’t help but smile up at him, squinting against the bright sun behind his back.

“You’re important to me too,” you tell him.

His lips quirk up into a small but genuine smile at your response. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You nod, and then you have to turn away, feeling bashful under his attentive gaze. Embarrassed heat prickles your cheeks, and you need a second to catch your breath and let the evening breeze cool you down.

There are cyclists and pedestrians going past you as the two of you continue to walk in silence. You sneak a look at him to see that, like you, he’s turned away. He’s gazing out over the bridge as he walks and against the amber sun, you see a faint flush riding high on his cheeks.

Your fingers lightly brush against the side of his hand, and he turns back to you and smiles, sliding his pinkie to hook around yours.

You walk all the way home this way, heart feeling full, and you think to yourself that maybe, this time, things really are going to be okay after all.

~ Next issue

Author's note: So for fellow marvelheads checking, wouldn't Tony be dead after Endgame when Wong was made Supreme Sorcerer? This is another version of earth -- Thanos and the snap never happened. My baby Tony isn't dead how dare you!

The Spanish in this chapter has been left untranslated on purpose, so that it’s left ambiguous whether reader speak/understand Spanish. The idea is that if you as a reader understand it, then so does the reader, and vice versa 🥰

Dedication & Credits: To @guruan for her incredibly kind help and donating her time to check the Spanish used in this chapter.

And to the kind @forwantofwill and her generosity for doing this beautiful fanart of Miguel Folding Origami that has stolen my heart!!

And finally to @thirstworldproblemss I love you and hope you're eating all the yummy sukiyaki that you deserve. Thank you for coming with me on this wild ride.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse #marvel #spiderverse fanfiction #imguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #marvel mcu

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paper-crab · 6 months

Text

3 times

summary: 3 times Matt helped you, and 1 time you helped Matt

warnings: exhausted college students, lots of crying, sleep deprivation, mentions of not eating, basically the college experience.

wc: 2291

for a chris girl i sure can’t seem to write anything about him

If you were to go back to the beginning, it’d make this an incredibly long story. In your sophomore year of college, you had decided living in an off-campus apartment would be a good idea; financially speaking. You were determined to get out of your parents basement and live your life for the most minimal price possible.

That’s how you ended up with Matt, in a homey 2 room apartment.

Matt was an environmental science major whose brothers had dropped out of college, leading him to finding a new place with one less room and with a new roommate to cut down on costs: you. It was convenient, and out of the candidates he’d interviewed, him and his brothers liked you the most.

He was a quiet roommate, and that made it easy to study without getting overwhelmed with your surroundings. The only time he made noise was when he invited his brothers over, and he was always sure to ask.

In turn, he expected the same of you. Environmental science isn’t an easy route to take, so calm work conditions were appreciated.

Despite your best efforts at improving each other's study time, things happen. You’re human; sometimes you get overwhelmed.

Three times Matt helped you, and one time that you helped him.

One

It was a random Tuesday evening of your first semester. You were stacked with homework for a music class; a required elective credit that was far too demanding. You were juggling an essay on the history of jazz, a report on a classical concert the college orchestra had done, and a small quiz on musical notation.

To put it simply, you felt fucked.

You were itching to take a break, feeling the tears flood your eyes, but you just opened the next tab- opting to finish your jazz essay rather than prioritize your well being. It’s funny how college does that to you.

You start typing, the clacking of the keys feeling entirely too loud. They were sticking in odd places, and the words just wouldn’t flow smoothly.

When you reread what you’d typed, it just felt wrong; like when you trip over a tiny pebble instead of smoothly kicking it to the side.

You switch tabs, to the concert report. A minimum of 3 pages accepted, and you have half of a page. Seriously, what are you even supposed to say? You only have so many ways to describe the resonance of the string section before it becomes entirely too repetitive and meaningless to your report. Now it’s not just the keys that are wrong, the brightness of the screen is beginning to bother you, but if you turn it down you can’t seem to see well enough.

It felt wrong; like when you see a perfect pile of leaves and go to step on them, but rather than hearing the satisfying crunch of leaves, you’re left with some wet mush stuck to the bottom of your boots.

You switch tabs, the tears threatening to spill out. Your vision blurs slightly as you open the quiz and begin reading the questions.

What the hell does this even mean?

Still, you trudge through, clicking random answers and praying to some god that you get about 80%.

When you finish with only 10 of the 15 questions being right, you’re a push away from breaking down.

“Can I come in?” Matt knocks. You want to nod, not trusting your voice to carry your words, but he can’t see you. “Yeah.” You say, voice slightly cracking. He opens the door, not expecting what he sees; you, sitting at your desk, an abundance of tears about to tip over.

Surprised, he hesitates, then asks, “What’s wrong?” in the softest voice you’ve ever heard. That’s all it takes for the sobs to begin, while you choke out some form of an explanation.

“Everything’s just… not right. I’m overwhelmed, I don’t understand my assignments; I’m lost.”

He listens attentively, stepping closer to you as you pour out your feelings, offering a comforting presence. “I’m sorry,” You say, too upset to be embarrassed to be seen in this state.

“It’s okay,” He says soothingly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We can figure this out together. What class is it for?”

When you tell him, his eyes light up. “I think Chris took that one before he dropped out! Let me ask him to send over some of the work.”

“You don’t have to do that,” You start to say, but when he sees the tears get a little lighter, he decides it’s worth it. “I want to help.” His expression softens more, as if that’s possible. “Now relax a bit, we can do this.”

Two

The second time he helps you, you’re cramming a week before midterms. Realistically, you know you have time before it becomes a critical do or die situation, but that doesn’t do much to quell the panic rising in your chest.

You’ve done the required work, you know, so you should pass your midterms without a hitch. You reflect on the work you’ve done, hoping it’d help you gain some confidence, but it manages to do the opposite.

‘Maybe I should have done more?’ You think, self doubt and anxiety begin to creep into your head. Your hands start to feel clammy, and the pages of the textbook stick together a bit; it makes it that much more difficult to read.

You just feel stuck, like a jammed zipper in your favorite hoodie.

“Hey,” Matt walks in, not looking up. “We’re ordering Wingstop, you want something?”

“No.” You sniffle, expecting him to turn around and leave.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” He says, sweetly, pocketing his phone. You wipe away a little tear, trying your best to chuckle and lighten the mood. “Stressed over midterms. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I get it. You’ve got time for a break though, right? Choose your favorite flavor, my treat, and come watch a movie with us, okay?”

You stand up from your squeaky desk chair and shoot him a smile. “That sounds nice. I could use a break, thanks Matt.”

“Of course.” He tells you, outstretching his arms. “Any time.”

The gesture makes your heart melt, and you feel overwhelming gratitude. “I appreciate it. Let’s make it a movie night then.”

Three

The third time Matt helps you is the one you hold closest to your heart.

You’re struggling with a group project for a business class you took; regrettably. You’ve messaged the group chat you made at least three times to no avail.

“There’s a frat party tonight, can’t make it” or “I’m not feeling well today, won’t be there.”

All you’re trying to do is get the group together so you don’t have to assign work to them like a kindergarten teacher. So, on top of your regular coursework, you’re stuck dealing with 3 other adults acting like 5 year olds.

You’re ready to rip out your hair.

Making one last ditch effort to save your sanity, you send out another, more pushy, text to the group this time. When you’re left on read by all 3 members, you groan loudly. You check over the assignment and do the work of putting it into parts, allocating each member of your group a task.

You give yourself the hardest part, because obviously, these people are incompetent. You shake your head, drafting a second message to the group chat that informs them of their role.

Suddenly, the two week deadline doesn’t feel like it’s closing in as quickly. You allow yourself to relax, receiving some thumbs up from your group members.

A week and a half later, you feel ready to assemble each part into a final project. It could be postponed, but if everyone was done, why not turn it in early? You send a message asking for everyone’s part of the assignment, and only one person responds, sending her part of the assignment.

You try not to stress about it, reasoning that there are 3 more days until it’s due. Maybe they’re just a little behind; so, you ask the next day, and the next, with no replies.

The night before it’s due, you realize you’re going to have to do the 2 slackers parts yourself. You text the other girl who did her part, asking if she can do an extra one. When she tells you she doesn’t have time, you want to explode.

“I don’t have time either jackass!” You say out loud, resisting the urge to type out a strongly worded text.

Your professor is known for being ruthless, especially when it comes to group projects, and you can’t afford anything lower than a C+ on it without your overall grade being tanked.

You break out in a cold sweat, opening several tabs on your computer as you begin to work on the missing pieces of your homework. There’s a reason you were given 3 weeks and not just one day to finish the work, and that was as a group.

You can’t help but begin bawling, still trying to see through the screen. The words were all fuzzy through the hazy mist of tears veiled over your eyes.

Your sobs aren’t even choked at this point, the familiar feeling of being overburdened taking over again.

Matt can hear, and feel, your frustration from his spot on the living room couch. He immediately stands up, concernedly making his way to your room.

He offers three quick knocks. “It’s me,”

“Come in.” You tell him, your voice quiet and strained.

Matt enters with a tender look. “How can I help?” He asks, not even questioning your distressed state.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t need to make your life harder too.” You try to sound confident in your decision, but your voice falters.

“Just tell me what’s going on, I’m positive that I can help you. That’s what friends are for,” He offers a gentle smile, stepping closer to you. When you explain the situation, he feels angry for you. “That’s dicked,”

“Tell me about it. Now I’m stuck doing it all, and it’s so much work.”

“Let me do half of it.”

“Matt, I really can’t ask you to do that. I’m sure you’ve got something better to do.”

“Nothing better to do than help you.” He says, grabbing one of your hands. “Let’s get comfy and finish this shit.”

Matt stayed up with you until 3 in the morning to finish that god forsaken assignment. When you were done with the work, you turned it in and cuddled into Matt, falling asleep quickly.

“Thank you,” You whispered

“Of course.”

One

To put it lightly, Matt was stressed. He was juggling his regular coursework, along with the added pressure of finding applicable internships. His dark circles were getting worse, making his lack of sleep apparent. His hair was messier than usual, and he was sure his clothes were beginning to stink. He had been glued to his bed, several textbooks scattered on the surface.

His laptop was open, overflowing with tabs containing internship applications, and the smell of coffee and abundance of energy drink cans was not helping to clear his mind.

You didn’t know what to do to help him.

“Hey, I’m going out. Can I bring you anything back?” You ask, eyes roaming his face and body.

“No, I’m good.” He says, not even stopping to look up at you. You frown.

“Okay…” You say skeptically, dragging out the ‘y’. You leave the house, still struggling to get Matt’s pitiful appearance out of your mind. Your friends can tell you’re far off, in another world. You’re distracted, thinking of what you can do to help alleviate some of the weight on Matt’s shoulders; like he always does for you.

“I’m gonna head out,” You tell your friend, offering her a sympathetic look. Normally, she’d stop to argue with you, but you’ve been off. On your way home, you stop by Matt’s favorite restaurant, taking extra care to order his meal exactly the way he likes it.

When you get back, he’s in the exact same position as he was earlier, give or take a few new energy drink cans. He looks miserable, and you’re willing to bet he feels even worse.

“I got you some food,” You say in a sing-song tone, trying to get him to acknowledge you.

“Great.” He says, nose still buried in one of his many text books. He still doesn’t look up.

You place the food on his nightstand, leaving the room to grab a trash bag so you can pick up his litter. He doesn’t even notice that you entered the room.

“Matt, you need to eat. It’s going to get cold.”

“Can’t.” He mumbles, voice weak with exhaustion.

You throw the trash bag out of the room, turning back to face Matt.

“Matt, please? When was the last time you ate, or slept, or moved from this spot.” You ask, concern shining through. When he finally looks up, you notice how bloodshot his eyes are, as they begin to fill with tears. “I don’t know,”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” You say, crawling over to him, careful not to mess up his organized chaos. He buries his head in your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist as he audibly begins to cry.

“It’s okay, Matt. Take a break, you need to eat and drink some water, and take a nap.” You tell him, “You’re not a failure for needing to pause and take care of yourself.”

“I don’t have time,” He tells you, lifting his heavy head from your neck. “I can’t.”

“You do have time, Matt. Let me help you like you help me.”

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader

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redhoodinternaldialectical · 8 months

Text

Too Dangerous for Kids

So, recently I had reason to go back and read Jason's post-crisis debut comic Batman (1940) #408 and it clicked really hard that basically the central theme of Jason becoming Robin was that Robin was too dangerous a job for kids. Before he becomes Robin, Dick got injured, badly, by the Joker, and Batman swore to never endanger another child like that, which is the reason Dick stops being Robin at all

Batman (1940) #416

And I'm friggin realizing now that the posing in Death of the Family is straight up a mirror to this scene of Dick having been shot?? I'm losing my mind???

Batman (1940) #408

Like, look at this in universe magazine shot with this talk on the radio compared to Bruce holding Jason and tell me this was not deliberate????

Batman (1940) #408 and Batman (1940) #428

And THIS TALK?????

Batman (1940) #408

I just... HMMMM, idk there's something very fascinating to me that the theme of 'this is too dangerous for kids' has been there in Jason since day zero.

It also makes me sympathize a lot with poor Dick who got fired "cause it's too dangerous for a kiddo out there", when he was no longer a child, and then WHAT DOES BRUCE HAVE WITH HIM NOT EVEN A YEAR LATER?!

Batman (1940) #416

He's devastated by the realization there's a new Robin, then harsh and critical of the new Robin because he's sure they're gonna screw up and get hurt

Batman (1940) #416

Not because he wants his old job back

Batman (1940) #416

Despite his misgiving about the mantel being passed on at all, at the end of it, he still gives Jason his respect and acceptance into the role

Teen Titans (2003) #29

And this has such fascinating parallels to Jason's reaction to finding out there's a new Robin after him!

Red Hood: The Lost Days #4

He is devastated by the realization there's a new Robin, then attempts to brutally dissuade the new Robin from keeping the mantel because he's sure they're gonna screw up and get killed

Teen Titans (2003) #29

Not because he wants his old job back

Teen Titans (2003) #29

Despite his misgiving about the mantel being passed on at all, at the end of it, Tim still has his respect, and perhaps even his acceptance into the role, although he was far too violent about it to actually properly give the role over like Dick did for him.

Teen Titans (2003) #29

Neither of them have a petty, jealous reaction of you replaced me, but instead have a tangled mess of "I was sloppy, I wasn't good enough, I got hurt, and now you put an even less prepared child in the line of fire?!" Jason is wildly more violent about it, but at the core I feel like the sentiments are the same, and it kinda makes sense because really the end of their times as Robin were very similar to each other, just Jason's was wildly more violent!

I can't help but wonder if maybe part of Jason's reasoning somewhere along the line was "Now I finally get why Dick was so harsh on me back then." And... honestly I don't think it is. Cause while it would make sense it just doesn't seem to be a parallel either of them is conscious of.

It's just this fascinating set of reflections neither one seems to see.

#jason todd #dick grayson #important robin research #damian's tomfoolery #I am losing my mind over this #UGHGHHGHHGHH #I would go on to talk about how Tim broke this cycle despite following its curves on surface inspection #but i am already late for doing shit lmao #dick greyson & jason todd

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directdogman · 1 month

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Hello I have some questions about timelines and history

Did the Vietnam war also occur in Dialtown after the Korean war? JFK is mentioned in the matchmaker game but Callum was the 35th president? When was he the president? Is the little voice acted bit of Norm reacting to 9/11 canon?

Funnily enough, i've gotten this question before.

1)Vietnam still happened, albeit slightly later. Basically, global politics was very different for the 4 years Crown was in office, so the 20th century political story we all know basically got put on hold for 4 years.

2)Okay, this is history stuff so I'll preface this by pointing out that none of this is really essential to enjoying Dialtown. That being said:

Crown was elected president in 1960 and served 'til early 1965, which was JFK's inauguration. He served during JFK/Lyndon Johnson's first term in our timeline. JFK was elected next election (1964) and the next few elections after that were basically just the same as ours, but with everything shifted 4 years later due to that 4 year cultural desync caused by Crown's political upset... That is, until the timeline catches back up again during Nixon, with Watergate happening way earlier and thus, resyncing the timeline!

I have a really long ass lore doc about Crown that actually explains the exact situation that arose in 1960. To sum it up briefly, Crown ended up creating enough of a split in the electorate that Kennedy realized his chances of winning were dire, if the two ran at once, as Crown had a clear lead in several key midwestern states Kennedy needed to win. It's true that if the race was close enough, the House could've picked the president (and would've picked Kennedy, no doubt), but Kennedy's people didn't wanna risk it for a multitude of political reasons I won't go into for the sake of brevity. Then, Crown's offer came in: 'I'll only be serving one term, and when I'm out, she's all yours, Kennedy."

So, Kennedy conceded to Crown, bowing out and vowing to run next time instead, with Crown agreeing to endorse him at the end of his term, should Kennedy want it (which he did, of course!) BC JFK was a senator and Nixon was the sitting VP, Kennedy realized he could run as a sitting senator again, while Nixon would have to either run as a *former* VP (and thus, a weaker candidate) or run another race to serve in Congress or as Governor of CA (which would require him to unseat Pat Brown, something that Nixon tried to do in OUR timeline and lost 2 year after the election!) Nixon Vs Kennedy (1964) was, as a result, a far less close election in DT's timeline than in ours, largely thanks to Crown.

This is why JFK was prezzy during the Dialup about 2 years after Crown's term ended!

3)no, that isn't canon. could be, though.

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fun-k-board · 1 month

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Hi, may I request a headcanons of The Brotherhood(Quicksilver, Blob and Toad) whose crush is gn reader? How would they act?

The Brotherhood (X-Men: Evolution) X gender neutral crush

Note(s) : Sorry it took so long, I was struggling to figure out how to write for them (⁠*⁠・⁠～⁠・⁠*⁠) I think I got it right though?

Pietro Maximoff / Quicksilver

'Hey! Over here, nooo, not there, silly! Here!'

Oh he's so annoying (affectionate)

Pietro's main goal is to make you think about him wherever you are, that means bugging you constantly.

Assuming you're in the same school, he's constantly switching out your homework with blank pieces of paper, drawing messages in your books, speeding over to poke you in class knowing you can't do anything about it, etc.

It only gets worse if you're an X-Man.

During missions if you're against each other he's constantly going after you, it's gotten him in trouble with Mystique more times than he can count because he refuses to acknowledge the main purpose of the mission, instead, he only wants to annoy you.

Sometimes it's just pushing you over then zooming away, other times he constantly taunts you while running so fast you can't catch him or tell where he's going next, whatever it is, he makes sure it's enough of a bother that you start to get frustrated.

If you're in the brotherhood he can at least get missions done but you know he's bothering you the entire time, you basically end up doing all the work.

Is he flirty? Absolutely.

Expect his arm around your shoulders or waist while he talks on and on so fast you can't even catch what he's saying, but when he does slow down he's all 'You're the only one for me.' 'I love your shirt, is it new?' 'Your eyes are so beautiful, I could stare at them for hours.'

Lance and Todd are throwing up in the background.

Wanda wants to punch her brother into a separate dimension.

Fred's just chilling.

Think of him like Lance with Kitty but more focused on teasing you rather than being completely smitten, don't get him wrong, he loves you and he'd probably even make you a sandwich if you asked, but he'll be an asshole about it.

'Oh, come on, that's so much effort! Can't you just do it yourself?' but before you can answer he zooms off to do what you asked of him. 'here, I guess.' he huffs, a grin on his face as he hands you the item you requested.

Frederick J. Dukes / The Blob

'Do I have to stay with them..?'

Fred is under the assumption that it's impossible for you to like him back after what happened with Jean, of course he was pushy and unfair with her, but she also rejected him and all of the X-Men despise him. So, he doesn't exactly have many options when it comes to friendship, let alone dating, besides the Brotherhood.

Then comes you.

Whether you're an X-Man, member of the Brotherhood, Morlock, perhaps just a fellow mutant, or a human, student at school, he'll truly never believe that he has a chance.

While before he was fairly obsessive and pushy with his crushes, with you he's silent and very awkward, even if you're nice to him he expects backlash if he ever confesses.

If you're a member of the brotherhood his awkwardness is slightly less explainable and far more noticeable, you're his teammate, you spend almost all day together, yet he can hardly look at you and loudly complains when he's paired with you or left alone with you. It probably makes you feel like he hates you.

He's very embarrassed if you confront him about it.

Awkward, he stumbles over his words and is breathing a little heavy as he does so, trying his best to explain that he doesn't hate you, he's just. Well. You see.

It's a similar situation if you attend his school, human or mutant, he's very sweet to you and tends to avoid messing with you. Fred usually quiets down when you get near, almost shutting down in a way. The others tease him for it all the time.

He'll most likely try to avoid you, maybe Lance, Pietro and Todd will push him to interact with you just to 'stop him from bugging them about it', they totally just want to help him out, and it ends with him always running away in embarrassment or assuming, if you're quiet or not that reactive, that you hate him.

If you're paired in a school project, Fred will absolutely just skip school, he doesn't care, he skips class regularly anyway, no Pietro, it's not to avoid you, he's just too cool for class.

If you're an X-Man, it's very different.

Fred is under the assumption you both share a mutual hate for each other, you're enemies after all! The tightness in his chest that he's feeling is totally just violent urges, that's it, that's all, it's not the want to hold your hand, hold you, tell jokes and make you laugh, no, no, that's not it at all!

He tends to target you to try and avoid his feelings quicker, he hates hurting you, but throwing you away from him, physically, makes sure he won't get distracted by you.

Fred ends up crying in his room when he goes home because he's afraid he hurt you.

Heck, even the other members of the brotherhood just want him to get with you already. Lance is especially eager because he won't be the only one being made fun of for dating an X-Man.

Eventually it does spill somehow and I'd imagine he would try to run away from you, maybe you catch up or explain to him later on, whichever one, he'll get very happy when you confirm you share feelings for him. He practically fixates on you so hard that you're the only thing he talks about.

Todd Tolansky / Toad

'Hey, how it's goin', beautiful?'

He proceeds to fall down on his face.

Todd is a bit of a creep, constantly following you around and showing off his nonexistent muscles, telling the most unfunny jokes and pulling pranks on people in an attempt to impress you.

He doesn't smell nice, he's been told this his entire life, that he's slimy, disgusting, every insulting name under the sun. As such, he decides to at least try and take a shower more often for you, to make you less likely to avoid him, of course!

Todd has a big grin on his face every time he talks to you, bouncing off his feet like he's just won the lottery. He's also very, very flirty, just not that good at flirting.

His pick up lines are very 'the immediate Google search results for pick up lines.' type of cheesy, very stereotypical and eye rolling.

If you're an X-Man, member of the Brotherhood, human, mutant, etc, it doesn't matter much to him, he treats you the exact same. The only real difference is how much time he spends around you.

In the brotherhood he does try to avoid flirting in front of the guys to avoid embarrassment or teasing, but surprisingly he does ask for a lot of advice regularly. It usually never goes well, Lance and Pietro tend to just give very wrong or confusing tips and Fred doesn't really have any to give in the first place.

If you're an X-Man he tries to impress you by fighting your teammates, usually he loses, but sometimes he does win! He'll pose and ask if he's just the coolest guy or what. Todd doesn't like fighting you but he will, because unfortunately Mystique is absolutely terrifying and he doesn't want to face her wrath.

In school he likes to ask for your help, constantly bugging you about how he just desperately needs your assistance to study for this test coming up, which to be fair he does. But, if you agree to help him, he doesn't actually try. He just flirts with you the entire time.

His crush is obvious, incredibly so, even the most clueless of individuals would know he loves you because he says it directly every single day. He doesn't exactly need to 'confess' per say, all you really need to do is accept his flirting or flirt back, maybe ask him out yourself.

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baiwu-jinji · 1 month

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I highly reccomend reading some of the changes in the revised version, as some arcs became very different there, in particular the Brocade Immortal arc and the Fangxin Guoshi arc, with more context added into LQQ and LW's characters in particular (and also more Hualian moments hehe).

As for QR, the changes on the chapters he first appeared on where, instead of HC making them arrive to QR's lair, LQQ was instead convinced by HC to confront QR... Who was near the royal masouleaum, and in this version anyone considered a "traitor" to Xianle ends up being severely weakened there, and this includes LQQ and XL, which made QR able to chain them, beat XL up and force them to fight eachother basically. Other changes on QR in the revised version include:

-QR working with resentful spirits from Xianle instead of human Xianle rebels and trying to haunt/kill LQQ since the beginning, as well as them killing all of the royals, King included (XL hacked their bodies to pieces to prevent ghost shenanigans from happening and that's where the misconception that he's the culprit began in the revised version). XL later sealed QR for a bit after this too.

-Instead of calming down a little after XL ascended (on XL's request), QR was said to become even worse after that in this version.

-Overall more manic. The idea of his obsession having incestuous undertones probably comes from some lines that were added, like "If you keep looking at me like that, I'll say things I shouldn't.", which are accentuated in the audio drama (which is based off the revised version), but I think your interpretation on this is more likely.

-QR was using a decoy in the masouleaum, but after he was beaten by HC, XL and LQQ, he was too weak, so he convinced a suicidal, alcoholic gambling addict to give him his body... And that man was Guzi's father. Viewing Guzi as a burden at first, he ambushed XL after the lantern festival so he could take care of them.

-No inn scene apparently.

The rest didn't change much as far as I'm concerned. This revised version really makes the whole "XL as QR's subconscious father" subtext more evident to me, from QR constantly calling himself his "little brother", pleading XL to stop HC from beating him in the masouleaum (right after he beat up XL no less), to wanting XL to take care of him and Guzi after he got his new body (and while it may just be my interpretation, I really felt like QR was probably envious of LQQ and his bound with XL too, as explained in a previous ask).

Overall MXTX seemed to make him more unlikable, probably to hammer home the "toxic fan/hater" subtext of his character, but she didn't completely remove his more human elements either, so his character arc is thankfully mostly the same.

Hi! Thank you so much for outlining the changes regarding Qi Rong, and if we all agree that Qi Rong is a stand-in for toxic fans, then it's a little...worrying that MXTX depicts him as even more vicious and unlikable than before, because this would probably mean that her views on toxic fans hasn't softened over the years despite the fact that she has left social media for so long, and the damage and hurt they brought upon her probably still hasn't gone away...

I'm assuming people have heard that MXTX returned to JJWXC yesterday, announcing that she won't be working on the 4th novel she originally planned, but she's not retiring from writing either. In the meantime, TGCF has be unlocked on JJWXC and the revisions to the novel have been updated. I will start reading the revised chapters promptly, and share with you guys any thoughts I have :)

#tgcf #Qi Rong #MXTX

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b33zlebubz · 15 days

Text

RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER EIGHT

SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | 18+ MDNI | MASTERLIST | AO3 PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks “Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past." CHAPTER CW: IMPLIED SEXUAL ASSAULT ((not from simon))

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH 2016 NORWAY, 1400 HOURS

"You're movin' too much, still."

"You are quite literally breathing down my neck. Kinda hard not to."

"Yeah, well, get used to it, love. 'Cause at this point you're always gonna have someone looming over you."

You huff, unamused, and it clouds out in front of your face as you squint through the scope of an unloaded rifle. Gloved hands grip the machine as you focus the scope on a point far-off at the other end of the course.

Four hours you've been out here, now, running a sniping simulation. The rest of your squad was split up in pairs across the vast landscape. You were left as the odd one out and, seeing as Walker had originally planned to just stick you carelessly in with another group, Simon volunteered to partner with you instead. Keep things equal. Which basically—as your superior—meant he had an excuse to sit back and smoke while you did all the work.

The exercise was simple; climb the mountain, find your post, sit and keep watch for flags until the next team tags you out. A sniping exercise as well as a strength and conditioning one.

You both made quick work of the mountain, ice picks cracking against the ice. Simon never really considered himself the competitive type, partially because he never needed to be and partially because there was no point—he's worked hard to ensure he's always the biggest guy in the room. Today, though, something in your growing annoyance as he yelled down keep up, sergeant or watch your footing every time you lagged behind stirred something in you, which in turn stirred something in him. It quickly became something of a race.

When his pick slipped and you finally surpassed him as he skidded down a few meters, he heard your laugh for the first time against the wind. For some reason, it made him smile, too.

"I hate sniper duty," you grumble. "Don't know how you do it—sit in the snow for hours."

"Same way I put up with your whiny ass."

"And what's that?"

"Patience."

You roll your eyes, but your lip quirks up into a smile nonetheless. A sight he's grown more accustomed to over the course of the past couple days of training and conversation. He's helped you out in little ways, stopping by the shooting range to offer some constructive criticism as you practiced, offering dietary and training advice to get your strength up, sticking his neck out for you when he could around Walker…among other things. As it would turn out, you were good company. Whiny, maybe—but good company, nonetheless.

You were improving, too. Temperament and strength-wise. How much of it is due to his company rather than his guidance, though, he isn't sure.

"You're not funny," you retort.

"You complained the whole way up the mountain, love."

You huff and shoot him a look. "Did I get it done?"

"Affirmative."

"And did I beat you while doing it?"

He shrugs. "More or less."

"Then you should watch your mouth, Lieutenant."

His eyebrows raise, amused. "Is that a threat I hear?"

"It's a promise to beat you again sliding back down the mountain, sir."

He imagines you throwing yourself down the snow in order to beat your own speed record, and he chuckles a little at the thought. "I'd like to see you try, Angel."

You smile, gaze focused through the scope. You've spotted three flags already, and you spot two more as another hour passes. The team that's supposed to take your place is getting closer, Ghost thinks it'll be twenty minutes before they rendezvous, and you both make your way back for the day.

"Ghost."

"Angel," he exhales another cloud of smoke and vapor when you speak, breaking the comfortable silence that's washed over you both.

You maneuver awkwardly to position your hand behind you, opening and closing your fist a few times.

"Hand me one of those," you say, your breathing puffing out into the freezing air. "And my lighter."

He shakes his head with an amused smirk. "You're supposed to be focusing."

"Can't focus if my hands are shaking."

"And what if this is a real scenario? You're not gonna have cigarettes in a life-or-death situation, sergeant."

"Yeah, well, you do," you flex your hand again. "So gimme."

He figures you're the only Sergeant on base he'd let order him around, but he doesn't let that thought take root in his mind. Instead, he shifts closer so that he's lying on his stomach next to you in the snow.

"Keep still," he tells you, plucking a cigarette from his pack. "You miss a flag Walker won't let me hear the end of it."

You seem slightly surprised, but you don't say anything as he slots himself next to you. He offers you the cigarette as you keep your gaze in the scope, and you use your free hand to slot it between your lips before he lights it. You inhale slowly, and he watches your lips as you do so; watches the tips of your fingers through the clipped tips of the gloves he gave you and watches you exhale. When he looks up, you're already looking at him. He's close enough to see where snow clings to your lashes.

A beat passes where you both just stare at each other. Simon finds he can't read your expression. Then, you shake your head and clear your throat, which in turn snaps him out of his daze, before you take another drag and lock your focus in once more.

"Another flag," you say, your brow furrowed. "At your twelve o' clock. About four kilometers out."

Simon shifts, putting some space between you both as he clears his throat because fuck. What the hell was that?

"Copy that."

You're quiet for the rest of the exercise, only speaking whenever you spot another flag. For some reason, Simon still finds himself fixed on the cigarette in your hand as you work.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH 2016 NORWAY, 1800 HOURS

Whenever both return to the base, there's a lot of whispering. He doesn't notice, at first, too busy sorting equipment and putting it away. You don't notice the lingering stares or the hushed voices either; or you're just pointedly ignoring them. Sorting through your own gear nearby, you're quiet, and you're done and ready before he's even folded his snowsuit. Nevertheless, Simon doesn't pay much mind to the name being whispered around until he can put the face to it.

Roger's Back.

Now, if there is one thing Simon isn't—it's humble. After years of hard work he's managed to pack on an impressive amount of muscle, taking him from a lanky, malnourished teen to the legend he was now. Not since Roba has he ever had an issue taking down anyone with the same experience, or sometimes more, than him. He's made sure of that and intends to keep things that way.

That is, until Simon happens to lift his head and peer down the hall towards someone he, for once, doesn't have to look down to meet the gaze of.

He's massive, is Simon's first thought. The same height as him, he wagers the bloke might be the only lower-ranked soldier here who actually matches his strength enough to maybe have the upper hand in a fight.

Simon's second thought is that bloody hell.

There's a long scratch across the man's cheek and the remains of a bruise around that of an eyepatch. There's a still-healing gash on the side of his head, scar tissue fresh and thick on the temple of a shaved head, flesh stretched inward from staples freshly removed.

Ah. Roger. The sergeant who's skull you cracked against the edge of a bar.

The man approaches you from behind and Simon stops in his tracks just down the hall, eyes flitting over to watch the scene unfold in the corner of his eye.

Keeping his face hidden had its cons, sure. Maybe he did nearly suffocate himself every time he sweat his ass off in the desert. Maybe underwater tasks were difficult and maybe he had to jump through all kinds of hoops to avoid getting his picture taken. In hiding his own emotions, however, he's become quite good at reading the body language of others.

And you're uncomfortable. Tense. Ready to bite at a moment's notice.

You stand rigid still as you sense his presence, your back to the man as he approaches lazily to stand behind you. Some words are exchanged. You, biting retorts that just barely count as professional and him…standing too close for comfort.

You hold your ground. You don't punch first—just like Simon told you. He watches the man's lips move, reads the threat that crosses his lips. Still, you hold your ground as Simon's fists clench and he realizes what's happening—why you punched first. Why you're struggling and why you put your training on halt for leave.

Next time, the man says. Next time, you're not getting away so easily, bird.

Simon watches you think about it. He watches your hands ball into fists, watches your eyes narrow and your nose scrunch with disgust. But you don't move, no—you don't shrink away in fear and you don't immediately go for the kill. You stand your ground just as Simon told you to.

You do so until the man looks away first, sauntering off. Simon watches you let out one breath, then another, before you grab your pack in a shaking hand and sling it over your shoulder. His eyes linger on you as you quickly leave the room, barely noticing how Roger approaches him to introduce himself.

It's not until the door shuts behind you that Simon grabs the young Sergeant by the front of his shirt and slams him against the wall. Roger lets out a startled yelp.

"You lay another finger on her," he snarls. "And I'll fuckin' cut it off, Sergeant, you copy?"

Roger's eyes are wide. The breath knocked from his lungs, he's panting, and his mouth opens and shuts again in shock.

"I said do you copy?"

"Yes—yes, sir. Copy and check."

Satisfied that his warning is taken seriously, Simon turns him loose with a hissed, "piss off."

Roger stumbles. Disoriented, he continues down the hallway, and Simon is still seething as his boots carry him down a wrong turn to Walker's office.

He doesn't walk out until your safety is guaranteed.

#simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #cod #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #ghost fanfiction #simon riley fanfic #ghost x reader #cod ghost #simon riley

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drowning-moonlight · 4 months

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Public Executions in One Piece, Inherited Will, and how Gol D Roger Haunts the Narrative

Since I've gotten caught up in the manga, I am struck by how executions - especially public ones - are used as a narrative device and are even used for character development in some ways as well. Specifically in how the characters that are executed may die physically but their Wills and spirit lives on. There are the obvious ones like Ace and Roger but I also see this with character such as Mont Blanc Noland and Kozuki Oden. I see certain parallels between these government sanctioned killings that I'm sure Oda wrote the story that way on purpose.

Historically and in media like One Piece, public executions serve the purpose of not only punishing the person being killed for crimes they committed - real or perceived - but also to discourage others from committing similar crimes. The thing with One Piece though is that most of these public executions backfire on the ones in charge.

Ace and Roger's executions mirror each other in that the Marines and World Government wanted to end piracy but instead both of them being killed actually ushered in new ages of piracy.

Roger turned himself in and the Marines used his public execution as an opportunity to basically say something like, "Hey, we have the King of Pirates here and we're going to kill him in front of the whole world. This will happen to every pirate we can get our hands on. We are able to kill the King himself, we can definitely get you small time pirates too so you might as well give up being pirate!" But Roger's last words of course completely flipped this around declaring, "If you can find my treasure, the One Piece, then you too can be the next Pirate King!" He destroyed the Navy's plans with his final words and kicked off an era of far more piracy than there ever was before. He dies in body but not in spirit. His spirit and Will lives on for literal decades after his death in every single person who goes searching for the One Piece. The Marines may have succeeded in killing the man but they failed so spectacularly with killing his spirit.

Likewise with Ace's execution, the Navy wanted to end Roger's bloodline and pick a fight with Whitebeard, the strongest pirate in the world at that time. By doing this, they wanted to end this New Age of Piracy. If they could kill the son of the previous Pirate King and also kill the pirate closest to becoming the next Pirate King in one fell swoop then surely this would discourage pirates the world over and prevent people from wanting to become pirates in the future. But again it backfired. The Marines may have succeeded in killing Ace and Whitebeard but their deaths - just as Roger's - ushered in another New Age of Piracy. Whitebeard's last words especially kicked off more people becoming pirates, "The One Piece is real!" Throughout the story we see a few times when characters don't believe that the One Piece is even real, and the Navy probably wants people to think that because if there's no big treasure to find, then there's less of a reason for people to be pirates. But Whitebeard stomps on that notion with his last words:

Ace's execution, which was meant to discourage piracy and get revenge on Roger for starting the New Pirate Age, actually sets off more piracy and changes the story from here on out. Though they both die, just like Roger before them, Ace and Whitebeard's death's carry on meaning and inspiration for future pirates. The world of One Piece is forever changed from this one moment. The story and main character is never the same again after this. Again, the Marine's may have succeeded in killing their physical bodies but the inherited Will of Ace and Roger and Whitebeard lives on in the next generation of pirates.

Roger's execution is also heavily paralleled by the execution of Mont Blanc Noland in the flashbacks of Skypeia. This execution wasn't as grand or far reaching as the Marines killing Roger but the parallel is there. Noland was executed by a king for the perceived crime of lying to said king. He wasn't a wanted criminal the way Roger was but their ends are the same.

The framing of his execution is so similar to Roger's. And later in the series, Ace's execution mirrors them both as well.

The visual parallels are so striking that I doubt it was done accidentally. And just as with Roger, Noland's execution spurred on others to look for the lost city of gold that Noland had found, not knowing that it was in the sky instead of in the ocean. Nolan's death didn't necessarily start a new age of piracy but it did inspire people to go looking for treasure. Which is exactly what Roger's death caused. This search for treasure trickled all the way down to his descendant Cricket and also Luffy, furthering the theme of Inherited Will.

Then there is Kozuki Oden's execution by Kaido in the Wano flashbacks. Kaido wanted to kill Oden for the danger he posed and so that Kaido could further take over Wano without the head of the Kozuki clan stopping him. Oden also wanted to open Wano to the rest of the world and Kaido wanted to stop that. But Oden's death had basically the same affect that Roger's death did: inspiring others and carrying on his will. Even Oden and Kaido himself say as much right before Oden dies:

Is this not metaphorically exactly how Roger died too? The circumstances of their deaths are different but they both still die knowing that their Wills will live on after they are gone. They know that they will not be forgotten. "My soul will live on!! For I am a story to accompany you drinks..." Roger lives on in this way as well, especially through Silvers Rayleigh.

Again, Kaido may have succeeded in killing Oden's body but his spirit lives on to inspire others in the future and thus doesn't really die. His execution backfires and Kaido is eventually taken down by those who carried on Oden's Will.

What's more interesting about this than the other public executions in the series is that Kaido seems to be aware that the death of Oden - and later Luffy - will be remembered. "They will speak of you for years to come," he says to a dying Oden. I find that fascinating. And when Luffy "died," Kaido again mentions that he will be remembered:

It's interesting to me that Kaido is aware that their death's won't really be the end for Oden and Luffy, whereas the Marines and WG definitely didn't seem to understand that publicly killing Roger, Ace, and Whitebeard would mean that they would essentially be martyred and live on in spirit. Kaido seems to have more understanding of what their deaths will cause than the Marines do, which I find... odd... and I'm not sure where to go with that thought.

I also find it interesting that Luffy doesn't care or even want to be remembered once he dies. It's just like Oden saying, "They can forget me, for all I care," but he does go on to say he's a story to accompany people's drinks. Luffy, on the other hand, doesn't seem to see his death that way. He says he doesn't need people to tell tales of his great battle and that once you're dead there's nothing left but bones. It honestly feels like sort of a hopeless statement from Luffy and I'm not sure how to interpret it. Roger seemed to know that his last words would insure that he would not be forgotten, so this difference with Luffy is interesting.

Now what Kaido did to Luffy wasn't a public execution like all the other deaths mentioned before but I think this interaction between them still sheds light on the theme of remembering people after they die. Even though Luffy seems to be saying that he doesn't want to be remembered after he dies, I think we can all agree that he will be remembered when and if that time comes.

And it all goes back to quite literally the very start of the series. Roger's execution is the very first thing we learn about in One Piece. It's the very first scene ever shown, the preamble, the prelude, whatever you want to call it. He's the first named character in the entire series. We learn about Roger's death and his impact on the story before we learn anything at all about Luffy himself.

Roger truly does Haunt the Narrative of One Piece so much and his execution is mirrored by multiple other characters throughout the series that it can't be a coincidence.

it's just... the public executions in One Piece truly do hit different than in other media, don't they?

#one piece #gol d roger #portgas d ace #monkey d luffy #kozuki oden #kaido #mont blanc noland #one piece chapter 1 #one piece chapter 228 #one piece chapter 292 #one piece chapter 506 #one piece chapter 550 #one piece chapter 576 #one piece chapter 972 #one piece chapter 1045

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running-with-the-feels · 4 months

Note

I have returned! With Liu Kang headcanons in tow! Also, this is reallyyy long so no pressure to give an in-depth response.

Liu Kang was born in a small village in Henan Province, China. Due to the small size of the village, home births were common with the only doctor being the local healer. His mother experienced complications while birthing him and ended up dying, leaving his father to raise him alone. His parents had already been struggling with poverty before but now that his mother was gone his father had less time to work. Forcing him to choose between work or raising his son, his father chose to care for him.

Kang’s father was a kind man, the kind to give the clothes off his own back away even if he needed them more. He taught him everything he knew. How to forge and prepare food, how to read and write, the best way to clean, how to fix problems around the house. Have a leak? Don’t know if this mushroom is edible? Liu Kang can help! While he knows the basics of how to do these things he is far from a professional.

Eventually, this caught up to him as he had gotten food poisoning from the rotten food, having given the fresh food to Kang. He died when Kang was six. He buried his father next to his mother in the backyard with a wooden stake as a gravestone.

He lived alone for a little over a year before a Shaolin monk passing through town saw no one cared for him and asked if he wanted to come to the monastery. After some convincing (a promise and deal with the village that his home wouldn’t be touched) he agreed.

Kung Lao is a year older than him, being 8 while Kang was 7 when they met. Lao was ecstatic to have someone around his age around and quickly befriended him.

Kang, despite having what he assumed was a normal upbringing, had a lot of unresolved trauma (mostly from his year alone) and didn’t know how to properly navigate social situations. He had unknowingly internalized a lot of his father’s bad behaviors, especially his self-sacrificial tendencies.

Lao being a fairly normal child didn’t realize this and just thought he was a bit strange and quiet. Constantly asking if Liu Kang was going to finish his food Kang, not wanting to disappoint his new friend, would give him what he had. This came to a head when Liu Kang fainted from lack of nutrition and Lao was thoroughly chewed out by a medic for taking food from an obviously malnourished kid.

Liu Kang has stunted growth as an adult only standing 5"6' when he should be around 5"8'. While short, he is very broad. Broader than Kuai Liang despite being a good amount of inches shorter.

He awakened his pyromancy when he was 10 while sparring (read: play fighting) with Kung Lao. Lao had just gotten the upper hand and Kang, in a panic, grabbed his wrist, and the next thing they knew Lao was screaming and clutching his burnt wrist. He got bandaged by a medic and promised Kang he wasn't scared of him and that "a little fire" wouldn't change anything. Even going as far as to encourage Kang to use fire against him.

Kung Lao looks at the burn fondly now, jokingly calling it the one time Liu Kang didn't pull his punches against him.

While both are pyromancy, Liu Kang and Hanzo's fire work very differently. Kang's fire is genetic and is closer to cryomancy in function (but, like with fire instead of ice). Unlike Hanzo, Kang can be burned (though he has a massive resistance) in the same way cryomancers can get frostbite. Also his magic naturally settles in his lower stomach while Hanzo's sits in his chest.

If I were to describe Liu Kang in one word it'd be repressed. He doesn't want to burden others with his feelings and is more than happy to never talk about it. Only ever talking about it once with Lao when they were preteens. And that was because it slipped out, not because he genuinely wanted to breach the topic. He's gotten better with age, but whenever his feelings are singled out he shuts down.

He doesn't believe he should be selfish (even though it's not selfish) and should be grateful for what he has. His father raised him to be grateful and the Shaolin taught him similarly, acting selfishly would be like spitting on their faces. He needs to be grateful to those who helped him, lest they throw him back on the streets.

And that's where the people-pleasing, self-destructive, and sacrificial tendencies come from! I'm moving onto happier headcanons now :)

He has a competitive streak, not that he'll admit it. And not many realize it. Johnny, none the wiser, challenged him to a cook off and Liu Kang took that seriously. An entire event was made with Earthrealm's defenders to judge the food. Honestly, the food was so good it just turned into a vote of whether you like Chinese or Italian food more. Kang won.

For the next few months, Liu Kang would give Johnny this look that he could only describe as smug. He thought he was going crazy because he was the only one who noticed it and everyone he told brushed him off because "Liu Kang's not like that". The only one who believed him was Kung Lao because he too had been on the receiving end of Kang's post-competition smugness.

Accidentally encouraged Sonya's kleptomania and was mortified when he realized it.

He secretly loves dirty jokes, but he never makes them unless he's either drunk, the opportunity is too good to pass up, or he's really comfortable with you. Even then it's rare. If the joke itself doesn't get you, the shock of it coming out of his mouth will.

If you think Hanzo has no brain to mouth filter when he's drunk, then Kang's 10x worse. Worse to the point they started a quote book that includes but is not limited to: "I sometimes wish I could get pregnant, I'd like to experience motherhood." "*Lao explaining something* Lao we literally took each other's virginity-" "*Loudly sighs and walks up to Jax, taking his cigar out of his mouth, then proceeding to smoke the stolen cigar as he walks away without a word.*" He is usually dragged home from the party by Kung Lao or Kitana, because, no, they don't need to know about our sex life.

Loves smoking but rarely does it because he knows it's bad for his health. At this point, he's convinced it's a pyromancer thing because the feeling of smoke in his lungs causes his powers to thrum. Prefers to use a pipe as they create less waste.

His type is long, dark haired, round eyed, people of prestigious descent, with bladed weaponry, who are taller than him. Being dangerous is a fun bonus.

This took forever to type and I'm going to bed now, looking forward to your thoughts in the morning <3

ohohohoohohoo yiiiiiiisssssssss

Liu Kang's headband is actually a piece of cloth from one of his mother's clothes that his father gave him to keep her close. He has fully burned ppl for trying to take it from him

Once Kung Lao realized how malnourished and self sacrificing Liu Kang was, he made it his mission to ensure that his friend ate. Lao would steal snacks from the kitchen and hand them to Liu whenever he wasn't paying attention and would also glare at anyone who tried to take food from the younger boy.

Because Liu Kang joined the monastery later than most, it took him a while to catch up to their skill, causing some of the other kids to tease him. Lao, once he learned, started fighting anyone who said a bad word about Liu, leading to them both getting in trouble over it.

It did also lead to their first kiss, with them having gotten in serious trouble after Lao broke a kids arm, so he kept trying to apologize to Liu over it, eventually causing Liu to kiss him to shut him up. As much as Liu Kang dislikes hurting the other monks, he can't deny that it feels nice to have someone so determined to protect him, even from their friends.

Lao is taller than him and consistently gloats about it, but he is also leaner which Liu never fails to point out.

Whenever the two are cuddling in bed, Liu will kiss the burn on Lao's hand as both an apology for it (which Lao always waves off) and an affectionate gesture.

Liu never talks about his feelings, even the positive ones, and it is one of the few things he and Lao fight about, with Lao wanting Liu to be more open so that he can support Liu the way Liu supports him

They also fought when Raiden chose Liu as his champion (and pls someone ask me about my Kung Lao hcs I Beg) bc Lao felt that it was unfair to pick one over the other when they where both equally skilled and Raiden could have easily brought both of them (which would be smarter) and Liu, not wanting the last time he saw Kung Lao to be a fight, kept telling him to trust Raiden's judgement and just refused to engage in the argument.

To this day, they both regret that they parted angry before the tournament, without a goodbye kiss or "I love you"

After finding out about Kitana and Liu having their budding romance, Lao pulled back, thinking he was no longer wanted (man is insecure and he hides that under arrogance) which lead to Liu thinking Lao now hated him for being chosen. They were both pining and miserable for months, leading to Kitana being very confused by the situation and not knowing how to handle it (she's not good at people, she's good at murder)

Kitana and Johnny of all people ended up hanging out and she let slip what was going on and why she was confused by it, leading to Johnny dragging Lao and Liu over to his house for the night and making them sit down and talk, acting as a mediator between them. It took several days but they eventually worked it out and then went to talk to Kitana, leading to them all getting together

Kung Lao and Kitana remained platonic, however, though they did start to get along (I am not married to the idea that Kung Lao and Kitana don't ever also get together, but I do think it would take a looooooong time before they did)(if I wrote a Liulaotana story in that vein, would anyone be interested in that? It wouldn't be any time soon but, yknow, still)

Liu Kang also challenged Jax to an arm wrestling competition and lost, which revealed that he is something of a sore loser. He won't say anything and he'll always be really polite, but then afterwards he's grumpy and throws himself into training for days on end.

On those days, Kung Lao and Kitana will usually team up to pull him out of the training yard and back into bed, helping him work his frustration out in a more productive way.

Loves a good dirty joke and is also shockingly good at dirty talk. Once got Kung Lao off with nothing but his voice and some heavy kissing and he remains smug about that. Kitana refuses to believe that story no matter how much Kung Lao blushes in mortification until Liu does the exact same thing to her.

Not only is there a notebook of Liu's lack of filter, the kombat kids have a gc full of videos of him saying various outrageous shit.

he does enjoy smoking, but Kung Jin got him to try a vape once and he threw up from how much he hated it. Sticks to his pipe after that.

Points out that Kitana and Kung Lao are similar and both his type once and neither of them will speak to him for a week bc of it.

lemme know if you have any more! these are great!

#liu kang #kung lao #kitana #liulao #liulaotana #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x #mortal kombat 11

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

Note

could i ask for an adam x reader angst/fluff oneshot mayb...? where they along with thatcher find adam in his room but instead of doing anything bad they help him out and comfort him?

My sweet boi :(( Had to do it to 'em

(Also this is more angst if anything but it's got a good ending)

.........

"What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, I guess."

"....you heard it, too?"

"..yeah." Sighing, you turned to the bleach blond-haired cop, gazing at the bodycam that was messily attached to his shirt.

This guy was nothing like the confident and inspiring lieutenant the town placed all their hopes in. If anything, he seemed just as scared as you were right now.

You both met here purely by chance.

All you wanted to do was take the BPS van and leave this county for good, but you first hoped to find Adam somewhere around here.

After not hearing from your friend in weeks, you presumed he contracted M.A.D and was either dead...or trying to isolate himself so that he didn't hurt you when his symptoms got too severe.

Sarah and Evelin, on the other hand, were angry with him over his odd behavior, even though you messaged them both saying that M.A.D couldn't be ruled out as the reason.

He wouldn't act this way without any warnings. What else could it possibly be?

Still, Sarah insisted he was "heartless" when confronted about Jonah's death, and Evelin hated him for the awful things he apparently told her. Both of them have basically given up on trying to help or understand him.

As much as you tried keeping the gang together, everything had fallen apart and you ultimately decided that starting over in another state was the best course of action.

BPS was more or less disbanded, your friends were all either dead or arguing with each other, and nowhere in Wisconsin felt safe anymore.

It's better to leave while you still had some sanity left.

Yet when you showed up to take the van, finding the keys in the ignition slot, you noticed some angel statue tucked away into the back that you don't recall seeing before.

Despite it being shrouded in darkness...it seemed to stare at you, making you feel uneasy.

Then a voice spoke inside your mind.

Whispering gently, yet far from comforting.

"I am your intuition, [y/n]. He's nearby. You know it. You feel it. But tell me, child....do you hear it?"

Right after it finished, you heard one of the most bloodcurdling screams of your life coming from within the house.

Someone was inside, and they barely sounded human.

It shocked you to your core, and when you looked back at the angel statue...there was nothing there. Just the old dusty computer equipment.

You thought Adam might've been on the run still, as the neighbors claimed his house had been vacated for a long time. They haven't seen anyone go in or out.

But if your "intuition" was right, maybe your friend had been right here all along.

Before you could break down the front door, however, Thatcher showed up, apparently drawn here by the same voice who urged him to investigate the screaming.

You feared he was gonna arrest you for being part of BPS. Though he didn't seem interested in placing you in handcuffs right away, so that was a relief. He, too, had reasons to believe Adam might be inside, expressing more concern for your friend's wellbeing than having intentions to arrest him.

So you both agreed to search the house together, figuring that going in pairs will lessen the chance of you getting ambushed if this was a trap set by an Alternate. He turned on his bodycam for documentation purposes, insisting you stuck close to him.

Of course, you're one of the primary suspects..so he probably wouldn't let you run off that easily.

But upon entering, you were immediately met with trash and destroyed furniture all over the place, making it rather difficult to transverse the house. With every step, you felt like you were going to trip and make even more of a mess.

Yeah, it was bad.

You used to come here often and play video games with Adam and Jonah, laughing and having a good time kicking their asses...or vice versa.

Now? The gaming console and controllers were smashed to bits.

Even more concerning was the blood and vomit splattered everywhere. It was nauseating to inhale, yet Thatcher looked as though he was used to this sort of smell--but was nevertheless just as disturbed.

You had a bad feeling that Adam was seriously hurt...especially since the screams had stopped the moment you both walked up to the house.

Then out of nowhere, a radio flickered to life, a narrator reading something called "The Fate of the Jester".

It nearly gave you both a heart attack as Thatcher swiftly turned to it, wondering if an Alternate was messing with it. But eventually he shook it off and followed you further into the house.

Finally, you arrived to Adam's bedroom. When you turned on the light, your eyes widened in shock to find him slumped next to his bed.

He was sitting against the nightstand, almost propped up like he was some doll, unmoving.

All the while the radio in a distant room droned on, concluding the reading with something quite ominous before it abruptly switched off:

"--milky eyes cut through the thick blackness of the bedroom, a spectator. He was no longer the hero of the story, just a cog in the machine."

You held your breath, wondering if you should call out to him considering how still he was. And as you got closer, you could see he was shirtless, thin, and pale...completely corpselike.

You could see a bottle of bleach tipped onto its side, your heart dropping at the implications of seeing it empty.

'What the fuck? Adam..what did you do?'

Thatcher seemed just as bewildered, enhancing his bodycam footage in order to confirm who the person laying there was exactly.

Sure enough..

The description matched.

--SUSPECT IDENTIFIED--

"Th-That's-"

He was interrupted as Adam let out another bloodcurdling scream, causing the footage to glitch out.

Startled, he dropped the camera in panic, backing away while pointing his gun at the younger male, terrified that he was going to attack at any moment.

You were equally as horrified at Adam's current state, yet your heart broke at the same time as his cries of agony continued.

'How is his jaw doing that?!? That's something no normal human can do....unless-'

"..please...fucking kill me..fucking kill me...!!!" He sobbed. "I-IS SOMEONE THERE?!!" Loud howls of pain escaped him as he struggled to sit up, his soulless eyes finally meeting yours and Thatcher's.

His jaw unhinged in such an unnatural way, and you heard a snap of bone as he screamed even more.

Then it finally hit you.

He was an Alternate after all this time.

There couldn't be any other explanation.

It suddenly all made sense: why he seemed "immune" to the Alternates, why he acted so cold and uncaring for the last few weeks...

But as much as it terrified you, you just couldn't look away from him. You refused to believe he was anything like those monsters. He seemed fully aware and didn't immediately try to attack you or Thatcher.

That proved he had at least some shred of humanity in him.

Speaking of the lieutenant, you glanced at him and noticed that he was three seconds away from shooting your friend's head off. So you blocked his line of fire, earning you a glare.

"Kid, move aside! He's-!"

"No. I can help him! He might recognize me. Just put that gun down...please. It's scaring him." You begged, keeping your arms out.

"......."

Although silent for a few moments, he decided to trust you and withdraw his weapon, sighing. "Fine..j-just...be careful." He prayed to whatever god was out there that you knew exactly what you were doing.

Because he was sick of reporting so many casualties. He didn't want you to become one more statistic.

You nodded in understanding, but upon hearing Adam's screams die down into soft sobbing and whimpers, you turned your focus to him. "Adam?"

He gazed directly at you, surprised.

Tears filled your eyes as you kneeled down in front of him, finally seeing his gaunt figure up-close, along with his arms and fingers which looked slightly elongated. "It's me, I'm here.." You spoke softly, as though he were a cornered animal. "You know me, right?"

With a whine, he managed to utter your name, flinching as you unzipped your jacket. But then you put it over his shoulders to cover him, and he clutched it on instinct, taking in its warmth.

"Y-You shouldn't have come here.." He rasped, his voice hoarse and distorted--barely resembling what he used to sound like.

"How could I not? I was worried about you."

"......."

"Adam-?"

"Everything I knew was a lie...all of it!! I'm not him. I-I...I never was...!!" He was growing hysterical again, tears streaking down his bony cheeks. "Wh-Why didn't you let him kill me?!! I don't wanna live!! I don't wanna be one of them!! DON'T LET ME KILL ANYONE!!"

"Listen to me...you're not gonna kill anyone, okay? I won't let that happen." You reassured him, although he was completely shattered as he curled up into your chest, wanting to hide away from the awful truth that was his entire existence.

He didn't know why you came here, or why you ever worried about him at all.

He was nothing but a shitty person. A literal monster who should've been left to rot.

Yet you didn't believe that for a second as you wrapped your arms around him securely, wishing you could shelter him from everything. And you rested your chin on top of his head, solidifying the fact you aren't going anywhere.

Normally, he would've hated being touched. But your actions only caused him to breakdown further, sobbing into your shirt as his sorrowful wails and groans continued. He clutched the fabric with trembling fingers, hoping it would distract him from every ache and crack in his bones.

"I-I just wanted to find my mom...b-but..she...she was never mine..! Fuck...it hurts so much!! Everything HURTS!!!"

"Shhh, it's alright." You held him close, but not too tightly for fear of causing him greater pain. "I got you, man..I got you."

Meanwhile, Thatcher was looking on at the scene, feeling pain in his heart and sympathy for the poor guy.

All this time, he thought this was just another troublemaker breaking laws specifically related to Alternates and running from the consequences....only to discover that he's one of the monsters who took so much away from him.

But he was confused.

How could Adam not know what he was until now?

Was it possible for Alternates to simply forget they're Alternates in the first place?

Though more importantly...how was he able to feel such strong human emotions?

The lieutenant didn't think for a second that Alternates could feel anything but malice. No love, sorrow, or joy...just evilness--as they were disgusting abominations who destroyed his career and all of his friendships.

But seeing how you gently talked to Adam, embracing him and letting him cling to you without him ever showing a hint of hostility...

It changed his perspective a little.

Still, he didn't know why he chose to show him this.

Should he have done something years ago to prevent this kid from becoming what he is now?

Was he implying that this, somehow, was also his fault?

Shaking his head, Thatcher sighed quietly, deciding to check the rest of the house for any evidence of other Alternate activity. He still got the chills from Adam's ceaseless muffled sobbing, which continued to echo even after leaving the bedroom.

All he found was more trash strewn around, along with a bloody knife on the kitchen counter and a snapped rope on the floor. Next to it was a knocked-over stool.

He was 100% convinced that the earlier screams were from Adam's many attempts...with none succeeding in ending his agony.

'Can't blame him...I sure as shit wouldn't wanna live either-'

"Lieutenant?"

He tensed, turning around as he saw you and Adam step out into the hallway, the latter having calmed down finally. Your jacket was now actually on him, covering his torso and most of his arms; he did walk with a slight limp, but otherwise looked okay.

"We're...just gonna take the van and go." You told him.

"Go...where?" Thatcher blinked in confusion.

"I dunno. Somewhere far away from all this shit. We just can't stay here anymore." You looked to your now taller friend, who was clinging to your arm and slightly leaning against you. Then you glanced back at the officer. "You should come with us. We can leave-"

"No, I can't...not yet, at least."

"Why not?"

"I've got a score to settle with the bastard who killed my partner and is running around wearing my face." He revealed, frowning slightly. "It blames me for what happened to this town. I can't just...abandon it. Wish I could, though, but...I'm not gonna find any peace 'til I know for sure it's dead."

"....alright, I understand." You nodded. "So will you let us go, Lieu-"

"Just call me Thatcher." He quickly corrected, flashing you a small smile. "That title leaves a bad taste in my mouth. But yeah, you guys can go."

"Thank you, Thatcher." You smiled back. "Good luck out there. Stay safe."

"You, too. And..Adam?"

The aforementioned male tensed and stared at him, not saying a word.

"I'm sorry about everything. Jonah, your mom, and...this, obviously." He awkwardly gestured to Adam himself, unsure if his words were comforting enough. This wasn't his specialty.

"Th-Thanks.." Swallowing the lump in his throat, the Alternate was forced to avert his eyes when he spotted the gun clipped to Thatcher's belt.

Part of him just wanted to lunge for it and end it all right here. You'll not only be a lot safer, but also better off without him.

Yet...an even bigger part of him wanted to live and stay by your side, determined to prove him wrong:

He may not be the real Adam Murray, but he wasn't going to be anything like his kind. He's not going to kill or try to be anybody else.

Things were going to be different.

After grabbing a few more things from the house, you all headed outside, with Thatcher leaving in his car, and both you and Adam hopping into the BPS van. You took the wheel since he was clearly in no condition to drive.

You made a mental note to paint over the letters at the first sign of daylight, but for now you were just going wherever the roads took you.

Hopefully you can leave the horrors of this place behind once and for all.

#clanask #anonymous #mandela catalogue x reader #the mandela catalogue x reader #tmc x reader #adam murray #thatcher davis #hurt/comfort #angst #platonic #tw suicide mention #tw vomit

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hansols-yoda-boxers · 2 years

Text

Oct 17th [Bang Chan + Edging]

[9:13] Your tease of a boyfriend was being nice. Very nice. Too nice.

He liked to play with you. He liked to take his time. You knew in the end he would always make you feel good but you had to go through a lot to get there. He never made it too easy for you to get to your orgasm. Even if he never outright said it you knew he loved when you started squirming and whining and you could always see just how much it stroked his ego when you started sweetly begging him to touch you properly and make you cum.

So the fact that he had so easily taken you into his lap, fingering you open. The fact that the second you had asked for more he gave it to you. The fact that he was listening to every little thing you wanted and you didn’t have to whine or beg at all for any of it was… suspicious.

Even your lust-addled brain could tell something was up. He was a little too sweet. It was too soon for him to be sinking you down onto his cock and letting you control everything. He never let you just cum so easily. He couldn’t help making you whine just a little bit. He couldn’t ever help himself. So your nerves were mounting as you mounted him, bracing yourself on his shoulders and biting down onto your lip to stifle the sounds that were on their way out anyway.

“Feeling good, baby girl?”

Were his words a trap? If you said yes would he stop you from moving with that cheeky, smug grin he always had? Or if you said no would he lift you off and tell you that since you weren’t enjoying yourself you could just stop? You didn’t even know if he was playing mind games or just being sweet. Either way a moan tumbled past your lips and he seemed satisfied with that. Chan’s hands squeezed your hips as he leaned in and captured you in a deep kiss. At least he was just a little desperate with his kisses, at least he wanted release too. Maybe he was just that horny, enough to let you get off without making you work so hard for it for once.

You started to carefully grind down on him. Despite how needy you were feeling, you didn’t want to move too fast too soon. You loved being close to him like this, chest to chest, straddling his lap, feeling his hands on your hips and his moan dying on your tongue. But even so you couldn’t kick the thought that he was not going to let you have what you wanted. So you tried to move slowly, savoring the moments and trying to tell yourself he might not realize when you were about to cum.

Chan kissed your jaw before slipping down to kiss at your neck. You let out a quiet string of moans as you moved just a little faster and started to swirl your hips instead. Each movement made the coil in your core curl tighter, made your body tense just a little bit more. You tried not to let it show in your moans, keeping your body moving at the same pace on his cock and quietly cursing yourself as you started to clench around me.

Chan nipped at your ear. “Do you want to cum on my cock, baby girl? Fuck, I wanna feel that.”

Some part of your brain was yelling to still be suspicious but he was basically telling you to cum now and your body was far less willing to exercise caution. You started grinding down on him quickly, a string of curse words falling off your lips. Chan let his head fall back as he let out a groan that sent even more arousal rushing through you. Everything in your body pulled tight as your moans climbed higher and your gripped Chan even more tightly in a silent plea to cum with you.

Suddenly his hands pressed down hard on your hips. Your hips jolted as he stopped you, not letting you move any more and even though his head was back, sweat on his skin and chest heaving, his lips curled into a grin that made you whine.

“No! I was so close,” you sounded exactly as desperate as you felt and you could see in his expression as he tilted his head up to look at you just how much he enjoyed it as you squirmed and tried to start moving again. In one, smooth movement he held you to his chest and rolled you over, onto your back, before bracing himself on the bed and pressing up just enough to look at you.

“I know,” he hummed. “You sounded so cute.”

“Why did you stop me?” You whined, hitting his arm weakly to emphasize your displeasure.

“Because you’re even cuter when you pout,” he grinned.

“You’re a j-jerk, you know that?” Your voice stumbled as he started to slowly and shallowly thrust into you.

“I just love all of your reactions,” he leaned down and pecked your lips. “Is that a crime?”

“You want me to suffer.”

He gave you a much deeper thrust and your eyes fell closed as a moan tumbled past your lips. In spite of yourself you back arched off the bed and he chuckled.

“It sure sounds like you’re suffering, baby girl.” He teased.

“Why c-can’t you be a nice b-boyfriend?” You muttered, trying to keep your voice even as he kept the pace with the deep thrusts, already bringing you close to your edge again from the slow motions.

“I’m nice,” he hummed, pressing kisses across your cheeks. “I want you to feel as good as you can and isn’t it so much better after I make you wait for it.” You let out a gasp as he picked up his pace, your hands gripping his arms tightly as each thrust brought a wave of pleasure. “It’s okay to be patient, baby girl. I promise it’ll feel so good. Don’t I always make you feel good?”

You held onto the last shreds of indignation by not responding and instead focused on the way your body was tensing again. You could feel the build again, bringing you to your edge and you tried to control your reactions but you couldn’t help the way your nails dug into him and your thighs tightened around him as you got right to your edge.

In an instant, Chan stopped moving. A chuckle fell off of his lips as you let out the loudest flustered whine yet and he held your hips still so you couldn’t get any more sensation.

“Come on, Channie please,” You whined.

“Oh now my girlfriend is being nice to me?” He laughed.

“You got what you wanted,” you said. “You got to see me whining, now make me cum!”

Chan pouted at you. “Oh, you’re not being nice.”

You let out a heavy sigh before giving him the biggest doe eyes you could that he could never resist. “Channie, please.”

“Maybe I don’t want to now.” That statement was a damn lie on account of him still being ball-deep in you cunt.

“Channie,” you put on a sing-song voice, cupping his cheeks making eye contact with him. “Won’t you come with me? It’ll feel so good.”

His lips twitched into a smile before he leaned in and gave you a kiss. His hips started to move again as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I can never truly resist you, baby girl.”

#the way i was so tired when i got this i knew he was gonna be annoying #i had fun #also i dont wanna see yall tagging this as dom chan i worked so hard to not making a boring or generic dom chan idea #i worked so hard guys ksajdhsa #timestamp #kinktober 2022 #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #skz imagines #skz smut #bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #chris bang smut

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wiihtigo · 2 months

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wiihtigo.tumblr.com/post/743934944739557376/ okay enough about Nell dying. what about that bad ending 2 with Casey dying 👀

grimacing at you sort of mournfully

similar to nell I think it happens during some big event- not as big as a crisis event alien invasion like nell but a citywide threat..(otherwise known as a regular tuesday in gotham), nell is out as ladybug helping out along with some gotham regulars (i imagine batman and nightwing are skulking around) shes not working WITH them exactly. theyre just out and shes also out at the same time and theyre fighting the same things. you see.

casey tags along sometimes when ladybug is out doing her thing because she lowkey doesnt respect nells job and thinks they can just combine patrolling and hanging out, BUT this time she actually stayed home. shes just laying on the couch, maybe scrolling her phone or finding something to watch on tv or dozing off into a nap when something hits their building. For the kind of big show-y jackass-y destruction thats happening in the city ive had it in mind this is a joker stunt. Not that thats super important even, hes not directly involved with casey blowing up. Anyways something hits their building and casey is crushed or...pierced by debris. She manages to fish out to phone (now cracked to shit) and calls nell for help (her reasoning being that nell will treat her as priority and come get her and help her ASAP meanwhile the ambulance's and police in gotham are pretty busy already)

Luckily, Nell picks up and immediately hears something is wrong even though casey (delirious and in shock) does not open with "there is a wooden beam lodged in my ribs come fucking get me" and instead is like "um...are you almost finished with work i think you should come home now. someone broke your window. its cold in here" but her voice is really strained and shes breathing kind of hard.

Nell is already speeding away but hes really far from their apartment and these stupid henchmen just keep getting in the way and its hard to keep casey talking when casey is usually the one DOING THE TALKING. but they do. keep talking together i mean. nell is kind of short with her at first because hes also kind of freaking but once casey starts panicking near the end when hes starting to realize hes cooked he starts lying to him telling him that hes almost there hes almost up the stairs and to just hang on a second more (hes like 20 blocks away)

at first casey was like. freshly in shock. so she wasnt talking about things like they happened. she asks nell to come home and clean up the glass on the floor because if she looked down and sees the blood coming out of her she was going to flip out or something. but the longer nell takes the more she starts to get scared and desperate and whiny (notice how i can find ways to insult her even as shes dying..now thats love) the more nell lies to her the more her solid faith in ladybug saving her ungrateful self is wavering. shes never let her down before! casey always follows nell/ladybug around and gets into trouble and nell always picks up her by the scruff of her neck and drags her back home. its basically what their relationship was built on, nell taking a random criminal home and promising to keep her on the up and up. nell is big and tough and strong and confident and independent and stable. these are all qualities casey really liked about nell right from the get go and its why, aside from being given a rent free place to live in, she stuck around this long even through the less desirable traits of hers and how insufferable she finds her sometimes.

in her fear (and pain) she starts swinging wildly between anger and pleading like "why arent you here yet!??! do you think im gonna die?? are you even coming?? are you doing this on purpose because youre mad at something i did.? WELL IM SORRY! FUCK! WILL YOU PLEASE COME GET ME NOW!!!!!!' (im sure this isnt doing anything to help nells stress levels. can someone tell her to relax?)

Nell.....did the smartest thing anyone has ever done in the history of the world, and before, when he took the call and nightwing noticed his alarm and comes down to say "hey is everything ok--" he brushes him off and speeds off to go deal with casey himself. Because casey is his responsibility and he doesnt really like nightwing. or any of the bats. nell is self sufficient, over confident, and (quoting from marty) "she has tunnel vision and chronic independence syndrome and by viewing caseys wellbeing as her own responsibility she has inadvertently doomed them" (unquote) (crowd booing sfx)

he could have asked for help from someone who could fly, or asked oracle to patch him through to an ambulance to get to the apartment faster than she could, or accepted nightwings offer to help knowing that hes more experienced than she is as a hero or done any number of things that would have to involve swallowing his pride, but he didnt and when he arrives back home casey is already gone

to be fair she wasnt really thinking straight. but wow, way to go nell. you really fucked that one up. can we cancel this heinous heinous bug?

when i compare our intrepid heroes death scenes in my mind i lol bcuz nell is like (coughing up blood) fuuuck i cant believe i loved that stupid girl. oh well. bleh. but casey in her last moments is like NO NO NO NO NO I DONT WANT TO DIE STOOOOP WTF WTF WTF

i think shes so panicked and frantic and scared in her last moments the complete opposite of nell accepting death and feeling content she did everything she could have (at least in regards to crimefighting that day)

she probably didnt even think it was a possibility until the last minute. shes so self confident. too self confident. some might even call it...stupidity.

in the way nell is letting her eyes creak shut thinking about a phantom image of casey and is just filled with regretful sadness, casey is not thinking fondly on ANY memory shes clutching onto her phone and wishing nells voice would jump out of the speakers and be there in front of her and carry her away and keep taking care of her FOREVER i mean keep financially supporting her until shes casted into the new scream film. she cant accept shes going to die. she wont accept it. she did so much hard work for so long to make something of her life and it was all just going to end in one night...she finally found a friend she could stomach the company of, actually enjoyed the company of, and it was all for nothing. AGAIN! these are depths of despair only previously felt when booster FIRED HER! she doesnt ..blame nell, exactly. well she kind of does. but its different than it was with booster. she put the full brunt of blame entirely on booster to shield herself from the possibility .. maybe her own choices and actions have something to do with the outcomes in her life? (NO NOT POSSIBLE) she is angry at nell for not being there. but shes also sad and confused and scared and all these mixed up emotions and even though shes angry at nell Somewhat she also...eugh....CARES about nell, and she thinks that nell also cares about her. (unclear in what way. and now we'll never know..SAD) so she isnt casting hexes on her like she had with booster, who she knew didnt really give her the time of day like ever. she just wishes she wouldve been there with her

but when have i ever given casey anything she wanted.

again, i advise you to go knock down martys door if you want more nell deets but im told ted and michelle support him through this (and isnt that more than casey ever got in the canon end? see..not so bad)

im also told he doesnt tell spider, caseys mom, about casey dying until 8 months after the fact. which im sure just about drives that poor woman over the edge. nell bishop are you ready to die..?

#koby you never add readmores you always just leave us to the dogs what changed BItch im scared #asks #casey

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