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alkhale · 9 months

Note

If it is not too much....can we have more decade swap please mommy alk? 🥺🥺🥺

Miss Memos so much 🙏🙏🙏

I HAVENT BEEN CALLED MOMMY YET BUT I HOPE THIS HELPS DURING THE WAIT

Shanks is somewhere in his twenties

Every now and then between the Blues and across the seemingly endless expanse of the Grand Line, an island appears.

It was never a designated island in particular. Whatever island could manage to make such a name of itself and manage to keep its reputation would eventually spread word, and sure enough, people would flock to its shores. Some islands that attempted to boast this specific purpose found themselves either failing to uphold true neutrality or ended scorched and sunk from a series of skirmishes with the marines.

A neutral island, people would call it. A meeting point. Pirates of all walks and Blues and statuses would gather here, and people who wished to do business with such pirates would navigate their waters.

A neutral island, on paper. A pirate playground, by word of mouth.

It was this very island get-away in particular that young, not quite young to most, but perhaps still young in the old eyes of the world—"Red Haired" Shanks found himself docked alongside his now notorious crew.

The bar thrummed with life. People and pirates flooded the inside like an overflowing mug of grog, beginning to spill out over the top. Music filled the air, leaving not a space for silence or stillness. Snarled curses flew across tables, slurred stories between bowed heads, and sweet words coaxed from wet lips against willing ears.

Shanks let all of it envelop him. He let it wrap thickly like a sheet. A wide, playful grin stayed perpetually stretched over his lips and he laughed with banter, jeered when jostled, and whispered huskily when spoken sweetly to.

His now infamous captain was always a man who enjoyed having fun above all else, so he'd seen it perfectly fit to dock their ship amidst the hub of pirates seeking their fill of freedom, fun or pure debauchery.

(Shanks was somewhere between the first two, but those who wanted to share his bed might speak differently.)

He sat now as proof up against the bar top. Two beautiful women hugged the seats on either side, a half-full bottle of wine—something more bitter in taste, harder and expensive—sat waiting to be grabbed by one of the beautiful hands to be poured into his mug. He'd meant to stay with the grog, since grog he could drink like water before he barely felt a buzz in his fingertips.

Wine came with the intention of something more, and he was still trying to decide whether or not to indulge in that sort of offer presented to him.

Shanks was older now. A roguishly handsome man with the kind of bounty on his head to turn multiple heads. Enough to make an ambitious marine drool and a seasoned vice admiral scowl. Amongst other crews, he was a powerful man, one of many on his ship, but one of the strongest, and that drew eyes.

Hateful eyes, envious eyes, admirable eyes—

Lustful eyes.

Women who'd spent the night, the evening, or morning with him would often describe him as such:

"His shoulders are big," they'd say. "Broad. You could rake your nails down them and feel endless."

"He's handsome," they'd swoon. "Dashing, a true criminal that one. That sculpted, clean jaw, those playful eyes..."

"His biceps are like corded ropes," they'd grin. "He could lift you with one, keep the other free to—"

"He's sinfully strong," they'd sigh. "Hold you like you were nothing, keep you seated right on his—"

"His words are sweet," some would murmur, looking a bit lost. "But he isn't truthful. He doesn't lie, that one. But his lips and his kisses... Hmm, I guess I'm a bit jealous, that's all."

There'd been a period once where Shanks had never been too particularly indulgent, to be truthful. It'd happened without him realizing it. Shanks could flirt and flirt and talk sweet, and then the moment lips would whisper in his ear and eyes would shift to a closed door—he'd laugh, something sweeter, and then he'd be off.

It was Buggy who'd called him out on it. Sore, when another beautiful woman had been left wanting and Shanks was looking like a dazed idiot, staring out across the sea.

"It's because you're still obsessed," Buggy had accused. Shanks had look at him, affronted. "You're all talk, Red Hair. Since you last saw them at the end of that crazy fight, you've become the worst you've ever been!"

"What fight?"

"The one that nearly tore the ocean apart! That was the last you saw of them in the past year and it's haunted you since!"

"Who?" Shanks said dumbly, still staring out across the ocean.

"You know who, you buffoon!" Buggy shouted. "I knew—I knew nothing good would ever come of this since you first made googly eyes at one of the most dangerous women you could ever even look at—"

"Dangerous," Shanks played with the word on his tongue. "She is, isn't she?"

Shanks knew exactly what memory Buggy was speaking of. It was seared, branded into the back of his mind.

(That beautiful woman. Her eyes. Her blood. Her blade.)

Many images of that day, in fact, remained with him still. Some more beautiful than others, and one lingering sharply, bitter—

(A moss haired swordsman cutting through the carnage, like cleaving waves, to stand at her side. His arm curling over her hip, pulling her to him when the dust settled, his lips hidden in her hair as he said something to her ear. Her eyes, finally relaxing, drooping with fatigue. A trust to be able to show such vulnerability. How he practically carried her, leaning her body against his—)

"See!" Buggy shrilled. "Listen, Shanks. You can dream all you want, I have plenty of fun fantasies myself. But you know why I'm never afraid for me?"

"Why?" Shanks sighed. Buggy jutted a finger against his chest and Shanks leaned back a bit in surprise, caught off guard by the truth in Buggy's next words.

"That's because you're a man who wants. And a man who wants never just settles for dreams."

"Buggy, have you eaten something bad?"

"You're the one who's eaten something rotten, idiot!" Buggy screeched, nearly throttling his crewmate. "Forget it, you're hopeless!"

To be fair, Shanks had tried what Buggy suggested. Buggy was convinced he just needed to get it out of his system. He'd even somewhat convinced himself the same. Maybe the wanting was just... carnal. Maybe he was creating a vision of something for himself, a dream to obtain, and it wasn't fair to do to her. No, never to a woman like that.

So Shanks had played the game, and he'd played it well. He had his fun. He went to bed with pleasure. His true heart belonged to the sea anywho, to his crew, to what laid in store for them at the end of it all.

(There was just nothing he could do, you know, about certain nights. About wisps of images in the corner of his eye. Of long, elusive strands of silver white and eyes like gold beneath the waves.)

The woman on his right was a local, one of the barmaids who was trying her luck. One beautifully manicured hand kept a possessive grip over the sculpted slope of his forearm, her thumb rubbing circles into the side of his arm the other woman couldn't see. The woman on his left ought to be some pirate for a crew he wasn't familiar with, but she drew his attention from time to time with stories of her exploits on the sea.

Stories.

"What kind of story will you tell, brat?"

Laughter filled the air. Someone shouted something behind him and the music resumed, flooding the space. Shanks laughed at something the woman on his right said. He spared a glance over the top of his mug to the back of the bar. Two wide double doors opened up to a sort of back patio, where the cool salty breeze filtered in. He could see pillars outside holding the establishment up, wound tightly with thickened vines heavy with some kind of flower.

"I'm sorry ladies," Shanks said smoothly, standing up from the bar. The women looked up, startled, but Shanks offered them a charming smile, easy and placating. "I just need to step outside for a moment... you won't miss me too much, will you?"

"Maybe a bit."

"Not at all."

They looked at each other with a scowl and Shanks grinned, smoothly slipping his way through the thundering crowd and finally slipping outside.

The breeze kissed his cheeks. Shanks let out a soft, easy groan as he stretched his arms over his head and let his feet carry him out of the shadow of the bar. Perhaps he'd stroll through town, get something to eat. Maybe find Buggy and bother him.

There was a whisper in the air, like a sigh.

Shanks felt something curl, like a finger ghosting up his spine. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Brat," she murmured, almost amused. "Going for a little walk?"

Shanks turned sharply on his heel, so sharp he almost stumbled. The breeze billowed the open chested white shirt around his arms. It tousled his hair, pulling it free from his gaze so he could see with utter clarity.

The divine sight laid out before him.

Long stems of blooming white flowers wound up the pillars outside the bar, holding up the balcony alcove hidden amidst the second floor she must've stowed away for herself. They interlocked in heavy blooms, a shade too white to match her hair. She leaned up against the railing of the balcony, lounged on her side like a goddess, one finger lightly brushing against a flower as she gazed quietly down at him.

What few patrons might have known of her presence must have thought it wiser not to comment on the fact that she'd been there, leaving the infamous woman to her devices.

Shanks felt his pulse begin to thrum at his fingertips. His feet carried him before he'd thought anything else. A slow, curling grin pulled wide over his mouth. He felt that familiar trill, a lulling pulse of energy in the air, a thought that perhaps—

(This world was amazing.)

His eyes shone brightly, pools of sunlight.

She narrowed her eyes in almost suspicious amusement at the sight.

"Dove," Shanks said, because he'd never promised to be one for subtly. "It's been an eternity."

"Eternity?" she tilted her head to the side, a swooping wave of silver white following over the bare curve of her shoulder. Shanks felt his pulse quicken. "It can't have been that long."

"I didn't even hear a whisper of you being here," Shanks said, stepping closer to the pillar so he could look directly up at her and she gazed down at him. "if I'd known, I would've never left your company."

"We arrived only just tonight," she said loosely. Shanks saw now she was nursing a pretty colored bottle and he licked his lips. "Had a bit of free time on my hands."

Shanks' hand laid itself along the pillar. He tugged on the vines, testing their strength. "A beautiful woman like you," he began, as though he were witnessing the worst crime committed in this world, "all by her lonesome?"

She huffed a sort of laugh. "Mmm, I'm never alone, boy."

He was far from being a boy, but Shanks continued to grin, slow and easy, eyes bright with mirth. "Is there room on that balcony for two?"

Hoku the Immortal shut her eyes for a moment in contemplation. She tilted her head, as though listening for something.

"I suppose it depends," she said finally. Those piercing eyes watched him languidly. "I don't want to invite something more than I can handle."

Her expression became one of startled amusement as Shanks' hands quickly dug into the vines, his body scaling up the pillar with frightening haste.

She laughed, the sound lighting like fireworks in his ears as he snapped with one hand long stems along the way, crushing them between his fingers until Shanks quickly hauled himself over the top of the balcony railing. He looked up, almost frazzled, once smoothened hair now askew as he caught his breath and grinned widely at her, eyes shining.

His breath staggered in his throat. From below had been but a taste—now he could see her clearly, vividly.

In a rare sight she'd discarded the large cloak she'd always kept with her. Perhaps because of the warmer temperatures of this summer island. Shanks could see the bare slope of her shoulders, the teasing dip of her collarbone hidden by her thin white top. The warm tan of her skin under the dappled moonlight, her curves, the long stretch of her legs over the bench—

She didn't wear her usual sturdy pants tonight. Loose billowy black shorts down to her knees took their place—perhaps a pleading change from one of her more fashion savy crewmates, maybe they were going for more of a vacation look, Shanks thought in the back of is head.

Hoku had one leg crossed over the other knee, foot swaying in the air. The knicked and scarred skin of her thighs appeared before him. He'd never known before she had a tattoo there on her left one—a design hidden still to his eyes, he couldn't quite make it out.

He thanked vehemently whoever's idea it was.

Shanks swallowed with a breathless grin.

Hoku raised a brow and Shanks leaned over the top of the railing, holding out the slightly bent flowers to her as an offering.

"Dove," Shanks said sweetly, "It's a dream to see you again."

Hoku snorted, shaking her head with a somewhat exasperated chuckle. Still the older woman gently took the flowers from his grip, her fingers brushing fleetingly against his and Shanks almost curved his own to try to hook them against his hand.

Hoku pulled away with ease, lightly stroking the bent petals and gently beginning to weave the stems together absently. "I hear you've been making quite the name for yourself these days."

"You listen for word of me?" Shanks said.

"Only if it manages to reach my ears," Hoku said lazily. Shanks pouted. She wove another two flowers together.

Shanks dared to take a seat on the space beside her legs. She shifted them only slightly, not quite accomodating him, but she didn't usher him away either. He didn't know if he ought to feel wounded, the way she seemed to consider him a lighthearted presence than a threat, as though he were just another cat who'd decided to take a seat here.

But if such thoughts allowed him to be here, this near—

Shanks would take what he could get.

"What brings the King of Pirates and his crew to this fine little island?" Shanks asked easily, one finger tracing the wooden pattern etched into the bench.

"A meeting with some old friends," Hoku said absently, fingers still moving along the flower stems, but her eyes flickered back over to the view from their balcony. "I assume you've come to play?"

"To pray, actually," Shanks said. Hoku raised a brow, looking at him. Shanks grinned. "To whatever god I must for a chance to see you again."

Hoku set the woven flowers down in her lap. She shifted slightly, looking at Shanks with a narrowed hint of amusement.

"You're always talking sweet," Hoku sighed. "I suppose this is a trait men like you must bear the burden of carrying."

"Men like me?" Shanks said, sounding wounded. "Dear dove, you think I'm not earnest in my pursuit?"

"Pursuit?" Hoku echoed, raising a curious brow. "Of what?"

"Of one of the most beautiful women I've ever laid eyes on," Shanks said, eyes half lidded now, almost dreamy as he looked. "Of one of the greatest treasures the ocean's ever offered."

Hoku laughed. Shanks could grow drunk off the sound alone. "Brat... I still think you're biting off more than you can chew. One of these days you'll talk sweet to a woman like this and find out she might give you more than you can handle."

"I don't talk to other women like this," Shanks said lightly, softer. Hoku's gaze turned at his drop in tone and she watched him curiously, almost warily as he simply watched her in turn, never taking his gaze off of her. "I stumble in the shallows only for you, dove."

(Shanks treated any respectful woman in his company with grace.)

But he'd started to think as of late, perhaps without realizing it, that there was only one woman he'd like to worship.

"You've dug yourself a grave, Shanks," he thought he could hear Buggy curse in his ear. "A watery grave."

Hoku hummed, shaking her head at him. She leaned back, making herself comfortable amidst a few cushions as her fingers resumed their work.

Shanks could feel the heat from the skin of her ankle at his fingertips. They itched now to trace lightly up her leg, smooth his hand along her skin.

"Dove," Shanks said. "Will you tell me a story?"

Hoku raised a curious brow now. Shanks felt his grin widen over his lips, just shy of cheeky. Time had passed, after all, and Shanks would be a fool to not have learned.

(How do you entertain someone who's seen all this world has to offer?)

You don't.

"You want to hear one of my stories?" Hoku humored him. "Or one of my crew's?"

"Whichever makes you the happiest to tell."

Hoku's fingers paused briefly. She weighed Shanks' words and glanced again out toward the island's dark horizon. He sensed it since he scrambled up this balcony that something strange seemed to be weighing on this beautiful woman's mind, but he wasn't quite sure what.

Hoku reached out and grabbed the bottle sitting beside her. She offered it to Shanks who took it quickly and smoothly with grateful hands, a boyish sort of excitement curling in his gut now.

"I was never one for charity," Hoku said slowly. Her fingers tied off the stems together. "Tell me a good tale and I will share one of mine in return."

Shanks straightened to attention, bringing the top of the bottle to his lips. "One of mine?"

"Doesn't have to be one of yours," Hoku said, reclining back against the cushions. Shanks thought in his mind's eye she appeared like the very image of a goddess ready for worship, waiting to be amused. "Any good story."

Shanks took a long sip of her drink. He let out a small groan at the taste, unexpectedly sweet and smooth, almost crisp. Hoku huffed a laugh of amusement.

"It's delicious," Shanks said earnestly.

Pride flickered shamelessly across her face. She looked pleased at his words, leaning back and gazing again over the balcony. "A special blend from my hometown. One of my favorites, if I'm in the mood."

The sweet burn of it left a trail down his throat, all the way to the curling edge of his stomach. His fingertips.

"I have a love story then," Shanks said, low and husky. "The Sailor and the Gold Mermaid."

Hoku raised a brow, leaning her cheek against her palm. She closed her eyes, waiting. Shanks took a moment to admire her visage, the smooth shape of her eyes, shut to the world. The silver gray of her lashes. The slope of that deep red tattoo curved like a heart above her eye.

"Once there was a sailor who fell in love with a mermaid," Shanks began, bringing forth his best voice—the kind his captain loved when they were weaving tales by the fire. The kind that brought his crew to his side, listening with grins. "She was a beautiful mermaid, with the most beautiful voice he had ever heard with scales made of gold. Hair that shimmered beneath the waves."

Shanks took another swig of Hoku's drink, savoring the sweet taste. He leaned lightly against her leg, keeping his hands locked politely around the bottle should they betray him.

"Every day the sailor thought of how he could woe the mermaid. Each sunset she would come, sitting by the rocks to watch him and he would attempt something new. Flowers. Gifts. Songs. Each day she would see what he brought and disappear back into the water," Shanks pouted. "The sailor was heartbroken."

Hoku's lips curved into a faint grin at his exaggerated tone. Shanks leaned forward, as though sharing a secret. "Until one day the sailor had an idea. All of his friends had warned him against it, saying it wouldn't end well—but still he persisted."

The breeze tousled their hair. Shanks watched it carry hers lightly, teasingly.

"The sailor got on his knees with a bucket of water and he began to mold the sand. The mermaid was curious, wondering what he was up to this time, so she stayed upon her rock, watching him work," Shanks mimicked the motion with his hands even though Hoku kept her eyes closed, listening in silence. "It became clear to her with a gasp that he was forming a mold of her! Out of the sand he worked tirelessly, and curious, she watched, waiting to see his finished product."

Shanks noticed Hoku's foot stop swinging atop her knee. She adjusted her legs instead, pressing her knees toward the balcony railing. Like this, however, her leg pressed into his side. Shanks could feel it with every breath.

"Finally the sailor stood, turning to where he heard the mermaid gasp and he said, 'My love, this I offer to you, a testament to your beauty!'"

Shanks threw his arms out wide. His elbow settled over the top of Hoku's knee. She waited, listening intently to his story.

"The mermaid let out a louder gasp," Shanks began, raising his voice several pitches to mimic the mermaid's—"How can that be me? I look hideous!"

Hoku's eyes blinked open, flickering over to him in curiosity. Shanks' grin became breathless. He changed his tone, resuming the role of the sailor:

"This is the best that I could do to be true to your beauty!" the sailor said sadly. "Is this not in your likeness?"

"Look at it!" the mermaid cried. She dragged herself closer to him, pointing in a fury. "These lumps, that shape, this doesn't look anything like me!"

"Forgive me, my love," the sailor almost wept. "For I am blind!"

Hoku coughed in surprise, turning to Shanks with something like a laugh on her lips. Shanks laughed, heartily and full of mirth. He clasped Hoku's knee, shoulders shaking with laughter.

"The mermaid was stunned," Shanks swept on. "She asked the sailor how he possibly could have fallen in love with her when he had no idea how she looked. The sailor looked sheepish now and told her it had been her voice which won his heart."

Hoku hummed in amusement, seemingly pleased with the turn of events. She shut her eyes again, as though she were imagining the story in her head. Shanks set Hoku's drink down, carefully leaning forward.

"The mermaid brought herself closer to the man, reaching for his hand." Hoku paused as Shanks lightly wrapped his fingers around her wrist, loose, polite, and she did not draw away as he brought her hand then to his chest. "She brought his hand to her and said, 'Feel then, the shape of me.'"

Hoku kept her eyes closed, face relaxed, almost lazy. Shanks brought her palm against his bare chest, letting it rest there. He moved the other hand which had been resting on her knee, moving his fingers along the length of her leg, down to her ankles, lightly tracing his fingertips over her toes.

"Feel my scales," she said.

Shanks lifted Hoku's leg with both his hands now, light, caressing. Her brows furrowed slightly. Her skin twitched underneath his touch.

"Trace the shape of my body," she murmured.

Shanks' lips brushed almost slightly against the inside of her calf, his breath ghosting warm against her. Hoku's eyes opened now, sharp with wariness as she made to draw away.

Beneath her fingertips she could feel then—the fluttering of his heart like a bird. The nervous, loud staccato beneath her fingers. Hoku looked at her hand and then to Shanks, freezing briefly.

(Under the heat of that gaze.)

"'Now,'" Shanks whispered against the inside of her leg, "'try again.'"

Shanks' lips made to kiss the inside of her knee, eyes half-lidded, almost drunk of the presence of her, of the thrill of this moment, of the whirling, pulsing nerves and the rushing waves in his head—

Hoku's hand was replaced with her foot, her leg jerked swiftly free of Shanks' longing grip. He paused, halted now with her foot pressed solidly against his chest. Hoku kept him at bay, watching him with a cool gaze, leaving him unable to dive into their depths.

Shanks pursued no further, instead offering her his most charming grin.

"Brats like you," Hoku said slowly, "are dangerous."

Shanks' gaze lowered playfully at her.

"But brats like me," Shanks said sweetly, "are nothing Hoku the Immortal should fear, no?"

Hoku's eyes narrowed at him, lacking malice but in warning. The way a stray cat would look if you ventured too close for its comfort. Shanks still heard his pulse thundering in his ears.

"That story reminded me of one I'm very fond of," Hoku began airily, "so I won't throw you off this balcony, whelp."

Shanks continued to smile at her, his most charming yet, and Hoku simply regarded him for a moment.

Hoku looked a little fond then, somewhat exasperated as she looked at him.

"You aren't a bad story teller at all, Apple Haired Shanks."

Before Shanks could utter another word in response, Hoku disappeared with a simple flicker before him. Shanks blinked, once, twice, stunned into silence as a large boulder promptly took her place, slamming down into the bench and nearly crushing his outstretched hand.

Shanks jumped to his feet, whirling around and rushing up to the balcony railing.

Hoku appeared in the distance at the beginning of the town's pathway. She hovered in the air for a moment and Shanks noticed now the entire film of translucent blue that seemed to surround all of them. A firm hand reached out, taking hers and that film of blue disappeared as her feet touched the ground, lowered by that hand.

Shanks' jaw went slack in disbelief, slumping somewhat against the balcony as Hoku's figure in the distance simply raised a hand to him, waving once before she disappeared in the hulking shadow of her companion.

"Damn," Shanks murmured, leaning his cheek against his palm. "What a woman."

His gaze strayed to the side and he paused, reaching out with his hand. Shanks brought the flower crown up to his gaze, inspecting the careful way it'd been woven before he set it on the top of his head, sighing once more.

"Next time, Shanks, you'll get 'em next time."

. . . . . . . . .

"You could've just called me," Hoku said, looking a bit amused as she looked up at her companion.

"Seemed like I was interrupting something," Law said slowly, eyes half lidded as he regarded her coolly. "That's a dangerous brat to be entertaining."

"He's a hard urchin to shake off," Hoku sighed in exasperation, but she grinned a bit then. "Not a bad story teller though, I'll give him that."

Law scoffed, pulling his hand from hers. He stood tall beside her, shoulders broad and expression dark as always as his black feathered cloak fell about the both of them.

"Besides, you know me," Hoku grinned, nudging Law's side. Her eyes brightened when she noticed her sandals loose between his fingers against his side. She reached for them. “I prefer my paramours to be older. People aged a bit beyond their years, fine like—"

Law's hand hooked around the side of her waist, pulling her flush to him as he stooped low enough to say into her ear, low like a warning—

"You're forgetting who's the older one between the two of us."

Law waited for a moment, eyes watching Hoku, lowered and dark. His longer fingers curled fully over her hip.

Hoku promptly turned to Law with a sigh, looking up at him in clearly fond exasperation.

"Oh, Traffy, how will I ever explain it to you..."

"Your captain's finally ready to listen to the plan," Law said flatly. He dropped her sandals for her and Hoku grinned, sliding up close to his side to slip them on despite his scowl. "There won't be time to entertain rookies after this."

Hoku hooked her arm through his with a hum. Law continued to scowl but he didn't push her away.

"Time for the tide to change, huh?" Hoku murmured, leaning her head against Law's side.

Law's cloak enshrouded the both of them as they disappeared along a pathway, heading to the shore where the people she would sail to the end of her days awaited her.

#memos #memos au #memos age!swap au #shanks #hoku #trafalgar law #i think ive been having too much fun writing shanks lately #its helping me get back into the swing of memos tho #ty all for these asks and tidbits #and thank you for reading!

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ao3feed-esperboys · 2 years

Text

The Adventures of Psyduck the Psychic Chicken

The adventures of Psyduck the psychic chicken by RainingColours

Welcome to Spirit Consultations Enter the lair of the world's most powerful psychic AND the 21st century's most powerful esper screw this how do u even PR yourself anyway? gotta ask Mobgle

[MEMO]

dont forget to ask teacher for green tea refills.

idea: PR done through fanwork??? Try to look up cool names for doujin. The current title is good enough for now

the reporter tip about a smiling cult - ask teacher to investigate

learn better html for the website

Words: 6457, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: モブサイコ100 | Mob Psycho 100

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: Reigen Arataka, Kageyama "Mob" Shigeo, Kageyama Ritsu, Dimple, Mogami Keiji, Asagiri Masashi, Hanazawa Teruki

Relationships: Kageyama "Mob" Shigeo & Reigen Arataka

Additional Tags: Age Swap AU, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Canon-Typical Violence

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42447411

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Mob #♠#Shigeo Kageyama #Reigen Arataka #Ritsu Kageyama #Dimple #💜#R:T #A:Raining #Age Swap AU #Fluff #Angst #October 2022

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ficrecsbybu · 3 years

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WinterIron fic rec 2021: Part I

Note: this fic rec consists only of Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark fics. the only Stucky & Stony you might see is as past relationships but that’s it. it’s also complete works ONLY. also - no underage stuff 🔪. if you have any requests for Winteriron fic recs (for e.g non-superpower au, only one shots, series, hardcore smut, post-tws, college au, not team cap friendly fics, bodyguard au etc.) you can send me requests ^^. anyway... enjoy 😉

✨ The Guiding of Death by RayShippouUchiha

“That whole Merchant of Death thing,” someone off to the side faux whispers, “makes a lot more sense now.”

It echoes across the bridge like a gunshot.

Rated M, Hades & Persephone AU, Canon Divergence, always female Tony Stark, not Team Cap friendly. word count: 41391

(note: listen... I know het pairings and/or gender bend is not popular and I never really read those in general BUT this is straight up one of the best fics I have ever read so I NEEDED to share this with y’all...✌️)

✨ Forms of Love by bear_bell

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Rated E, Post-CW, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, Team Iron Man. word count: 33591

✨ Looking at You by NotEvenCloseToStraight

Bucky looks for so long that now all he wants to do is touch and hold and fix everything. But Tony can barely be in the same room as Bucky, cant even look him in the eye. So Bucky doesn't know what to do about Tony, but he is determined to do something. Because all he wants is to look at Tony, and see Tony looking back with a smile.

Rated E, Post-CW, PTSD, team heals, mental healing, forgiveness, angst with a happy ending. word count: 28,168

✨ I'll Be Your Bodyguard (If You'll Be My Security Blanket) by NarutoRox

When one of Loki's pranks gone wrong leaves the team with a young Winter Soldier in their care, they know they're going to have their hands full. Especially since this newer, tinier version of Bucky seems to have a bodyguard complex - and a particular attachment to Tony.

Rated T, kid fic, age regression/de-aging, de-aged Bucky, tiny bodyguard Bucky. word count: 4,993.

(note: finally something CUTE. Im so sorry for being such a slut for angst and heavy stuff 😅)

✨ Fate Strings Not Required by Akira_of_the_Twilight

Tony took the hint.

Tony wrapped his hand around the new guy’s elbow. He kept his touch light and breakable in case he’d misread the cue.

“Just some guy claiming to be my soul mate, babe.”

The new guy’s eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. He chuckled and gave the first guy a smirk. “Strange. Last time I checked we were soul mates.”

Rated T, AU - no superpowers, AU - soulmates, Bodyguard Bucky Barnes, age difference. word count: 7,032.

✨ Shameless by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

Tony isn’t actually sure which of them starts it—he’d like to take credit, but if he’s learned anything it’s that Barnes is by no means a wilting flower. Besides, the start doesn’t matter as much as figuring out who’s going to actually finish it.

rated M, flirting, dirty talk, sexual tension. word count: 2,560

✨ Winter Wooer by salytierra

Winter may not be the most pleasant guy to live or share your body with, but he isn't nearly as destructive as everybody expected him to be either. He likes to brood in the corners, watch British TV, and freak people out. And Tony. He really, really likes Tony Stark. There's just one problem – Bucky's pretty sure he doesn't feel the same way about the guy.

Rated M, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, team as family. word count: 8,726

✨ Even Darkness Must Pass by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

“Fake it till you make it,” Bucky whispered to himself, swallowing around his panic. Sam had drilled the idea into him, and it had become a mantra of sorts, something to hold onto when all he wanted to do was blend into the shadows and disappear.

“You’ll be fine.”

Steve placed a warm, strong hand on Bucky’s shoulder and squeezed, his super soldier ears having picked up Bucky uttering the now familiar saying.

Bucky nodded, tried to believe his own words, and followed Steve onto the common floor, a wall of sound hitting them as they entered.

rated M (but mild sexual content), parent Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes recovering, team as family, of love and hobbits 🧝🏻‍♂️. word count: 15,289

✨ Paths Are Made by Walking by Potrix

The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best.

Or, alternatively; the one in which Tony is a mess and accidentally kick-starts Bucky’s protective mother hen instincts.

rated T, post-TWS, fluff, humour, getting together, idiots in love. word count: 4,744.

✨ Rise In Perfect Light (Be Not Fearful Of The Night) by RayShippouUchiha

At first, the new element singing in his chest, Tony doesn’t understand what he’s done.

Doesn’t understand the full consequences of his actions.

But, to be fair, there’s no way he really could have.

Not even a futurist like him could have ever seen this coming.

rated G, post-CW, past Stony, angst with a happy ending. word count: 3,589.

(note: this fic is SO BEAUTIFUL. lemme just asjkdjnsjkdm)

✨ and amidst the ruins, there was you by TheKitteh

With everything resolved - post the Berlin conflict, Siberia and the rogue Avengers' return - Tony relishes in the clarity of what the team is now. He can finally see the well-defined lines, he can rely on solid rules and the chain of command. He's settled into his life like never before.

That is, until one day, an unhinged sorcerer with no grasp on his magic shatters that new-found balance.

As a result, half of Tony's soul is now gone, but he's willing to do anything to get it back.

rated T, post-CW, canon divergence, au - Dystopia, Dimension Travel, magical accidents, slow burn, getting together. word count: 36,976

✨ and so we unfold by TheKitteh

Senbazuru. Thousand Cranes.

An ancient Japanese legend that promises anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by the gods. Some stories believe you are granted happiness and eternal good luck, instead of just one wish, such as long life or recovery from illness or injury.

Bucky’s not big on believing in any legends, not after all that has happened. He just wants to create something for a change, not destroy.

He needs to prove himself that he can be trusted to handle something delicate. He doesn’t need a promise of a wish come true. He just,- needs to do this for himself.

He doesn’t need noticing how sad, tired Stark looks. Doesn’t need to want to do something for the man, when he can barely do anything for himself.

rated T, CACW canon divergence, getting together, reconciliation, POV alternating, Bucky Barnes recovering. word count: 14,449

✨ Spilt on the Ground like Water by tisfan

Tony has been black-bagged and illegally held at the Raft. Steve has no intentions of going to rescue him.

But the Winter Soldier isn't going to leave him behind.

rated E, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, implied/referenced torture, frottage, dub-con, mention of part non-con (HYDRA trash party), not Steve friendly, suicidal thoughts, touch-starved. word count: 10,853

✨ Norns, Save Us (From Ourselves) by phlintandsteel

It’s been ten years since half the universe was dusted.

rated E, post-IW au, A/B/O verse, Omega Tony, Alpha Bucky, Soulmates, Peter & Harley playing matchmaker, still recovering Bucky Barnes, not Steve Rogers Friendly, angst with a happy ending. word count: 37,324.

✨ Change You Like A Remix by ficlicious

No one ever said Avenging would be easy, but Bucky could have really used a memo about the weeks where the hits just didn’t stop coming. He’d probably still have signed his soul away to the gods of spandex and paperwork, but a heads up woulda been nice before he nodded and smiled and took up residence in the house sanity fled when the Avengers moved in.

---- Soulmates, misunderstandings, snark, genderswap and sleep-deprived Avengers abound. Tony's a woman. Must be Friday.

rated E, AU - soulmates, established relationship, temporary gender swap, jealous Bucky Barnes, misunderstanding, miscommunication. word count: 10,494.

✨ Getting to Know You by orbingarrow

It had been an adventure, navigating the sweetly apologetic Bucky Barnes, who haunted the tower most days, and the the Winter Soldier, who occasionally inhabited Barnes’s body. The Winter Soldier was not apologetic; he was scary. And he was currently chilling out, uninvited, in Tony's lab.

“Leave,” Tony said, because Tony was either a dead man or not, and there wasn’t much he could do about it before coffee.

“Or you could give me permission to be here,” the Winter Soldier suggested.

“I don’t let strangers poke around my stuff,” Tony grumbled, as he walked past the Soldier to take a seat at his workbench.

“Easily solved,” the Soldier deflected. “Get to know me.”

-This is what happens when Tony does.

rated G, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are different personalities, fluff, Clint Barton is a good bro. word count: 9,470

✨ Safe House by ali_aliska

For years, Tony had successfully kept his secret. Neither the world nor his team knew he was Iron Man and as far as he was concerned, everyone was better off that way. On his best days, Tony Stark was not someone people liked and trusted, so the last thing Tony wanted was to tarnish Iron Man’s good reputation by revealing the truth.

But then SHIELD falls, the Avengers face disarray, and a stray Hydra assassin forces Tony to go into hiding—and where better than the safe house he had just crafted for the Avengers and their own ex-assassin ready to come in from the cold?

Tony plans to hide away from everyone in his makeshift workshop until the coast is clear and he’s safe to go home. No one would care to spend any time with the reclusive, arrogant billionaire anyways, right? Iron Man is the one everyone wants around.

Bucky Barnes, on his own journey to reclaim his life and identity, seems to disagree with that sentiment.

rated T, post TWS, canon divergence, au - Secret Identity, mutual pining, team as family, slow burn, misunderstandings. word count: 89,533

✨ Versace on the floor by withered

The modern man’s armor is his clothing, and Bucky wants Tony out of his.

rated T, post CW, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Separate Personalities, Barnes & Soldier & their hard-on for Tony, not team cap friendly. word count: 2,127

#winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes #iron man #winter soldier #avengers #winteriron fic rec #fic rec #mcu #marvel #otp #steve rogers #past stony #past stucky

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dayseternal-blog · 3 years

Note

Heyy!! I just read the story that you recommended, doppelgänger and I realized how much I really love funny naruhina fics do you have more by any chance??

Thank you so much in advance!! We really do appreciate everything you do for the readers and all your recs are spot on!! What would we do without you??💗💗

lol I’m glad that you appreciate the recs 💕 I guess you’d just...do what I do? Surf the fanfictions and pick up lots of pretty shells along the way? I kind of feel like that.

Humorous NaruHina

I think @peppercornpress writes some of the funniest NH fics!:

“Doppleganger” - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Team 8 meets Naruto’s doppleganger (but not really).

“Tsukuyomi Boyfriend” - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Over a year has passed since the great Shinobi War, and people are finally starting to open up about their Infinite Tsukuyomi Illusions.

“The Red Scarf” - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Just two people who realize how they feel for each other. That's it.

“In Between Drinks” - Rated M to be safe, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Lord Seventh invites his buddies out to drink since Sasuke is back in the village.

I also think @mmmbuttery wrote really funny NaruHina:

“A Prior Engagement” - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Hinata’s on a blind date - and guess who crashes?

“Special Delivery” - Rated T, Modern AU, One-shot. The new girl in the mailroom receives something unexpected. Written for the Men in Uniform Challenge.

“Party Favors” - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. It's Shino's engagement party. With Naruto invited, what could go wrong?

Here are some others that I thought were funny!

“The kids, they ambushed me!” by @linisen - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. During the blank period - kids around the ages of one and three.

“Day 19: Clothes Swap” from “Walking Beside You” by @spyder-m - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. In which Naruto, for whatever reason, won’t stop adjusting his underwear, and Sasuke barely resists the urge to kill him.

“The Last Stand” from “The Little Joys and Sorrows of Everydayness” by Imanga - Rated T, Canon-Compliant (?), One-shot. In a desperate attempt to get themselves out of an uncomfortable situation, Naruto and Hinata risk it all. Written for the NaruHina Week 2021 Tumblr prompt: “Battle Couple”

Chapter 18 from “Postscripts” by @waterrolls - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, Short one-shot. (1) I have a Drabble request for youuuu. Maybe a jealous naruto (classic I know!) but like during shippuden days where he doesn’t even know why he’s jealous? Maybe some person flirting with her on a mission? I dunno up to you! ️

“Permission to Engage” by waterrolls - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Naruto proposing--as only he can do.

“The Wooing of Hinata Hyuuga” by N-AngelFire - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. In which Naruto finally sees Hinata and decides to take action. “SASUKE! TEACH ME TO BE COOL AND SMOOTH AND ROMANTIC!”

“Engaged or whatever…” by Devahhole - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Shenanigans, jealousy, and sex ensue when Naruto and Hinata decide to tie the knot.

“The Pinocchio Effect” by Silent_Soul_Ken - Rated E for super hentai kinkiness, Fantasy/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto goes to see a Fortune Teller for a view into his luck however after his insult he’ll find that he has a big problem and it’s just getting bigger and bigger…

“Ninjutsu in the Bedroom” by Armageddon Angel - Rated E, Canon Divergent, One-shot. A story in which the kunoichis learn that, one, their boyfriends all use ninjutsus in their lovemaking and, two, that of all the girls, shy, innocent Hyuuga Hinata has the best sex life of them all.

“Hinata’s Rose Lips” by Plump_Hinata - Rated E for extreme Bimbo!Hinata and super hentai kinkiness, Canon Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto and Hinata are sent on a mission to find a mysterious flower. But they will get a big surprise when they find out that the “Rose Lips” flower has a special power. A power to turn young ladies into ultra-hot, super-busty, sexy bimbos, and Hinata will be its victim!

“Snapshot” by tappity_tap - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Being roped into taking the picture for your best friends' engagement announcement isn't such a bad thing, especially when (surprising) hilarity ensues.

“Matchmaking” by Happy_Ocelot - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Everyone knew that Naruto and Hinata were a very happy couple. Everyone except the Hyuuga clan, who had clearly missed the memo. Thus began their clueless, well-meaning, but extremely irritating attempts to set up the former Hyuuga heiress and the hero of the Fourth Ninja War. Even though they were already together.

“Saturday Night at the Movies” by breakfastinbed - Rated G, Modern AU, One-shot. When all their friends cancel on them, two strangers end up enjoying a movie together.

Happy Reading! If anyone wants to add funny fics here, please do :D

#anon #naruhina fanfic recs #naruhina humor #i wish A Little White Lie was still posted 😢#that was the funniest thing i had ever read

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dvp95 · 4 years

Text

step into the light

pairing: dan howell/phil lester rating: teen & up tags: uni au, sort of? they're both in uni but this is not about uni, it's about two idiots meeting in the middle of the night at a corner shop where one of them works, and also heelies are involved, fluff, humour, meet-cute word count: 1.4k summary: Dan works the night shift at a corner store and Phil needs a sugar fix.

this was written for @cactilads in october, but i kept it on my back burner in case i wanted to come back to it and make it a whole Story. i've decided that i like it the way it is and i don’t want it on my shoulders like a gargoyle anymore. vivi drew GORGEOUS art for it already, which you can see and reblog here!

read on ao3 or here!

Dan doesn't mind the night shift. It's eons better than when he started his Asda shifts at five in the fucking morning - that was basically actual torture. Sure, it kind of sucks to go to classes at regular times throughout the week when his sleep schedule is swapped for work, but he'd be lying if he said he'd be asleep on Friday and Saturday nights anyway.

It's just boring, most of the time. The owner, a no-nonsense Indian woman a little older than Dan's parents, doesn't give a shit if Dan plays on his DS all night, as long as he doesn't nod off or let anyone break anything. He's been expressly forbidden from dealing with shoplifters in any way but to call the police, which works just fine for Dan. He wouldn't know what to do, anyway, always feels a little tongue-tied and awkward when he sees people shove candy bars and sodas into their jackets. He never calls the police, because, well, it's a fucking Mars bar.

There are a few moments of interest, usually in the form of drunk students livening up the place or exhausted parents stood in front of the baby food for so long that Dan worries they've fallen asleep, but for the most part his weekend shifts go by in quiet Pokémon battles and half-assed studying.

Tonight, though, Dan gets his favourite distraction. He's folded up on his chair in a way that increases his chances of tumbling off it and struggling not to fall asleep on his property law textbook.

Dan glances up as the door of his shoddy little corner shop dings. It's nearing three, which means he's either dealing with someone drunk, high, or very tired.

The guy who comes in is none of the three - at least, not obviously so. He gives Dan a jaunty, familiar sort of wave before he makes a beeline towards the slushie machine. Dan is sufficiently distracted, because this guy is the most bewildering part of his nights.

He doesn't come in every night that Dan's working, but it's often enough that Dan has developed a kind of fixation. Why does he always need an extra large slushie between the hours of two and four in the goddamn morning? Why does he mix all the flavours together and act like it's good (Dan has tried it, many times, and it's awful)? Nothing about him makes any sense at all.

Dan likes a good mystery, especially when it distracts him from property law, so he sits up a little straighter and lets his eyes follow the guy around the store.

And - okay. Okay. Maybe the guy is cute, in addition to being bemusing. He's always got glasses on and his dark hair shoved haphazardly off his forehead, a smile that reaches his sparkling eyes, long legs that always end up catching Dan's gaze.

He's looking at them now, actually, half wishing Hot Slushie Guy could be wearing his usual grey sweats, because the Star Wars pyjamas just aren't doing his thighs justice, when Dan notices the shoes at the end of the nice legs.

At first he just thinks, huh. Weird of a guy who looks uni age to be wearing light-up sneakers, but whatever. He's seen much, much weirder in this corner shop alone. Hell, he's seen weirder from this guy alone, since there was that one night that he'd come in wearing animal slippers of some kind or the other time he'd come with a beret on his head at 4:15 in the morning or the time - the point is, the sneakers themselves don't really give Dan any kind of pause.

Not until the guy goes to get a straw, and instead of walking like a regular person, he shifts onto his heels and glides over.

Dan is dumbfounded. Heelies still exist? What the fuck? He has not thought about them in literal years, not since people collectively decided they were mildly dangerous and very uncool.

This guy doesn't seem to have gotten the memo. He glides back over to his slushie and Dan has a moment of total certainty that he's about to eat shit before he does so, smashing into a rack of magazines with a small yelp and knocking it all to the floor. He manages to stay upright, but just barely.

Dan sighs. At least he didn't spill his stupid drink everywhere.

"Alright, mate?" Dan calls over, coming out from behind the counter. He knows that this doesn't count as letting someone break things, but he still wants to clean it up before Ms. Gujar magically appears behind his shoulder and scolds him.

"Uh," the guy says, his eyes wide and apologetic. He crouches down to start picking up the mess of magazines and Dan, not wanting to look like he's slacking off, joins him. "Yeah. Sorry."

"It's okay," says Dan. He shrugs a bit, stacking the mags into neat piles. "I've had people do stupider shit."

The guy's voice is much brighter when he asks, "Really?"

He's just grabbing magazines at random. Dan has to reach out and take them from him before he puts the Good Housekeeping beside the Cosmo.

"Really," Dan assures him. "I have a spray bottle for breaking up chav fights."

The joke makes the guy grin at him, wide and sparkling and so contagious that Dan has to duck his head to hide his own.

"Well, it doesn't look like much of value was lost," the guy says, holding up a magazine by the corner with his finger and thumb like he doesn't want to touch it. Dan can't stop the embarrassing bark of a laugh that comes out of his mouth when he gets a good look at the cover.

"Bikinis don't really do it for you, huh?" he asks, taking the magazine and shoving it at the back where it belongs. He stands and, after a beat, thinks to offer his hand to help the guy up as well.

His hand is a little smaller than Dan's and soft, like he actually moisturizes. He squeezes Dan's hand before he stands up and again before he lets go. Dan wonders, a little ridiculously, if he's trying to communicate in Morse code or something.

"No, Dan, they don't," the guy laughs, reaching for his slushie like he hadn't almost broken his neck for it.

"How," Dan starts, and then looks down at himself as he remembers that he's got a name tag on. "Oh. Well, that's not very fair. I don't know your name."

The guy takes a long drink of his slushie and then winces. "Ugh, brain freeze. I know your name, but you know that girls in bikinis are boring to me," he laughs, "so I think we're even on the personal information front."

That's not fair. Dan wants to know, wants to stop calling him Hot Slushie Guy in his own mind, wants to find out what he's always doing here to get early morning sugar rushes. Dan feels his mouth twist into a sulk before he can think too much about how uncool that makes him look.

"Well," says Dan, putting his hands on his hips in a way he hopes looks casual and not awkward. "I'm not big on girls in bikinis, either."

He swears he sees those blue-green eyes sparkle. "No?"

"So now we're uneven," Dan says. "And you should tell me your name. Also, why you get a disgusting drink almost every weekend at a time most humans are asleep. Also, also, why you have heelies."

"Wow, that's a lot of questions," the guy says, but he doesn't seem bothered by it. He's still grinning. "You're gonna owe me some stuff, too, y'know. To even it back out. So why don't I pay for this, and I'll keep you company for a bit."

Alright. Dan can work with that.

"As long as you don't use those anymore," he says with a gesture down at the light-up sneakers. "I don't want you destroying the place."

"That's fair. I'm Phil, and I do tend to destroy places when left to my own devices." Now Dan just has to focus on actually calling him that and not just accidentally saying Hot Slushie Guy out loud.

"Nice to meet you, Phil," he says. "You should teach me how to make all the flavours taste good together."

Phil grins around his straw. "It's a science."

"We've got all night," says Dan, a little more hope in his voice than he really wants there to be. Phil grins even wider and grabs for an empty slushie cup.

#phanfiction #phanfic #dnp fic #words words words

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bigtimetired · 4 years

Text

Softly, Softly

a one-shot in a wider (v unfinished i’m suffering help) au- nearly complete age-swap, set in the 90s for some godforsaken reason, this fic set not too long after damian moves in w bruce- i think that’s all that matters? just under 4k, mostly under the cut- anyway:

12th November 1990

Winter in Gotham is never easy.

It’s generally agreed that the going gets tough from the end of November to the start of February, and things are- not easy, never easy, but more doable- up until that point.

It’s early-ish November- the air is getting chilly, there’s frost on the ground in the mornings. It’s starting to get cold and sharp out, though at this point a person could get away with a regular jacket during the day.

It’s the easiest part of a Gotham winter.

Of course, Dick’s little brother doesn’t seem to have gotten this particular memo.

In retrospect, Dick blames himself for not noticing sooner and nipping it in the bud. The signs had been there for god knows how long; the quiet sniffles, late night rasps, sluggish reactions.

But anyway, the point is that Dick didn’t realise earlier, which is what has them where they are now; Jason bundled up in his hoodie and coat, Dick’s scarf and a hat they found lying around, shivering miserably, and Dick sacrificing his own jacket to act as a blanket.

Jason sniffs again and Dick winces- it sounds disconcertingly liquid.

“Don’t need all this,” Jason half-whispers, weakly waving his hand at his sickbed- his usual mattress, and a sofa cushion arranged in order to prop him up against the wall. It’s debatable how long he can actually sit up unassisted at this point.

Dick hums noncommittally and makes sure their meagre rations are within Jason’s reach- half a bottle of water, a squished bar of chocolate, and two tissues. This isn’t good. They need more.

Is Daly’s still open?

“’M serious,” Jason insists, and Dick nods.

“Whatever floats your ship.”

Jason blows out a heavy, congested, breath. “’s boat, Dickers.”

“Really? Why?”

Jason frowns for a moment, looking so concerned that Dick regrets asking.

“Dunno,” he admits eventually. “Prob’ly ‘cause it rhymes.”

Jason starts coughing then- a sharp noise which sounds like it’s being pulled out of him. The fit fades as quickly as it started- the ragged breathing and rosy cheeks do not.

Dick hands Jason the water bottle; helps him hold it steady when it becomes clear that his hands are still trembling too badly to do it himself.

When Jason’s breathing regularly again, Dick asks, “How’re you feeling?”, even though he already knows what his little brother will say.

Jason grins, pale green eyes blinking slowly. “On top of the world.”

Dick reaches out and tries to measure Jason’s temperature with his hand. Jason pulls the sort of face that only a ten-year-old can muster but stays put.

Dick frowns- Jason’s kinda clammy.

“Ew,” he says out loud, making a show of wiping his hand off on Jason’s sleeve. Internally he makes up his mind. I have to go.

Jason grins again and lets out a quiet noise which would ordinarily be a snort. “You’re ew.”

Dick settles down next to Jason’s mattress, even though he has no intention of staying put for too long.

“Go to sleep, Jay- you’re already nearly there.”

“Am not,” comes the weary reply.

“Uh-huh.”

“F’ck off, Dickolas.”

“Can’t- who else will wipe your nose for you?”

“Asshole,” smiles Jason, eyes already nearly closed. His expression changes then. “You’ll still be here when I wake up, right?”

Dick pauses- takes in the genuine worry wrinkling around Jason’s mouth, the uneven intakes of breath- and comes to the sudden, stomach-churning, realisation that Jason is too sick to be left alone.

It’s with a heavy heart that he abandons his plans to sneak out for a supply run.

“Duh. Now go to sleep, lil’ wing.”

Jason pulls another face, eyes closed now. “Gotta stop callin’ me that.”

“Nah.”

Jason tries to snort again and doesn’t say anything else. Dick keeps perfectly still for what feels like the longest time, watching Jason’s chest rise and fall.

His only reassurance is that, despite the audible wheeze of his lungs, Jason’s breaths are still perfectly regular.

Dick carefully pushes a slightly sweaty curl away from Jason’s face, trying not to focus on how Jason’s usually faint freckles seem a great deal more vivid at the moment.

He’ll be okay.

He has to be.

Jason wakes up around when the air in the attic is getting cool enough for Dick to have to start stretching in an attempt to stay awake; the cold has always made him sleepy.

Jason’s breath stutters, once, twice, and Dick’s head whips around, heart pounding.

Jason’s breath resumes a noticeable pattern, and Jason peers over at Dick.

“Hey,” Dick smiles, trying to project a calm and certainty that he doesn’t feel. “How’re you now?”

Jason swallows, licks his lips. “Hurts,” he whispers, and Dick’s smile drops instantly.

“What does? What hurts Jay?”

Jason shifts slightly, wincing. “Everything.”

With no small amount of dread, Dick lays his hand on Jason’s forehead again.

Jason is burning up.

Dick exhales, and makes Jason drink some water as he thinks.

“Okay,” he says quietly, more to himself than to Jason, “it’s all okay.”

It isn’t really. Dick is nowhere near as calm as he’d like to be- as he needs to be.

He doesn’t know what to do- Jason’s never been this sick before, and Dick isn’t sure what’s wrong; if Jason needs medicine or if he can sleep it off, if they should be seeing a doctor or if they can get by on their own.

It’s a lot for a twelve-year-old to deal with but deal with it he must. For Jason’s sake.

Jason’s had enough water- Dick takes the bottle from him before he accidentally drops it.

“Have some of this,” he says, grabbing the bar of chocolate.

“Not hungry,” says Jason quietly, just as he did the last time Dick offered it.

“I know, Jaybird, but you gotta eat if you want to get better,” Dick says, rubbing Jason’s shoulder carefully. He seems terribly small and breakable all of a sudden.

Jason still doesn’t seem all that convinced about the whole ‘eating’ thing. Dick decides to pull out the big guns.

“Please, Jay.”

Jason nods reluctantly and begins the incredibly long endeavour of eating a bar of chocolate with as little effort as possible.

He’s sneezed a good eight times by the time the wrapper is empty, but Jason looks marginally more awake now and Dick hopes that the pink tinge to his cheeks is a sign of health.

The water is almost gone, the tissues are used up and absolutely disgusting, and they’re completely out of anything the least bit edible.

Jason is still far too hot, still sweating, and now starting to shiver.

Shit.

Dick doesn’t know all that much about illnesses but he’s fairly sure that shivering like that when you’re not cold at all isn’t a good sign.

“Jay,” Dick tries his hardest to sound both soothing and supremely confident and not at all afraid, “Jay, we don’t have enough things here for you to get better. I’m gonna have to- “

Jason’s eyes widen, and he moves the quickest he has in nearly three days to grab Dick’s wrist in an iron-grip.

“No,” he hisses, “no, you promised you’d stay. You promised.”

“Jay,” says Dick softly, “I- “

“Please, Dick, please don’t go- I don’t wanna be alone- please- “

There are actual tears welling up in Jason’s eyes all of a sudden, and Dick’s heart twists horribly.

“Hey,” he says gently, “hey- I’m not gonna leave you alone, okay? I- uh- “

Dick swallows and then makes what many people might call a terrible decision.

“I’m gonna take you with me,” he says as if he had planned this all along, “we just gotta pop out to the store and back- get some more water, some tissues, all that fun stuff. Okay?”

Jason relaxes, though he doesn’t let go of Dick. “Okay,” he half-whispers. “Just- just don’t leave me.”

“I promise.”

Rather predictably, things are not going well.

Dick’s eyes are sore and gritty, and he can’t quite tell if his hands are shaking or not. He has Jason tucked under his arm in an attempt to keep him warm and stop him from tipping over- easier said than done on the ice-laced paths.

It’s dark out now, and the streetlights in this part of town are few and far between. Jason’s weighty breaths seem to echo in the mostly empty streets- they’re gonna start attracting attention soon.

“Dick,” mumbles Jason all of a sudden, “we nearly there yet?”

No. No they are not. All the nearest stores are closed and they’re starting to get uncomfortably far from home.

“Uh-huh,” whispers Dick, “just another few minutes, okay?”

“’kay.”

Jason lets out a tremendous sniff then, and Dick rubs his arm absently.

It’s way colder than Dick thought it would be- every breath in is sharp, every breath out creates a thick plume of condensation.

Dick isn’t good with cold- his head hurts, his chest aches, and all he wants to do is go to sleep for a while. When it’s really, really, cold, his nose bleeds.

“’m tired.”

“Me too, lil’ wing. Nearly there.”

“Can we sit down? Just for a second?”

Jason sounds exhausted.

Dick glances around carefully- no unsavoury characters too close by, though they’d be better off stepping in out of view.

“Yeah- we’ll sit down just around the corner for a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay.”

The two of them make their ungainly way around the corner- off the main street and into a more secluded area.

There’s a deep, surprisingly unoccupied, doorway here- Dick tucks his little brother into the corner in an attempt to block some of the cold out. He pulls off his jacket and gives it to Jason as a blanket.

Jason leans his head on Dick’s shoulder and lets out slow, heavy, breaths.

Dick looks up at the artificially clouded, orange-tinted sky and misses the stars for the umpteenth time.

Has Jason ever seen the stars?

Dick’s eyes are very, very, tired.

Don’t you dare fall asleep, Grayson.

There’s a song playing from a building nearby- words muffled, melody barely audible. A slow, soft, sad song.

Dick breathes in deep, lets it out slowly.

He watches his breath cloud and float up, up, up, until he can’t see it anymore.

“Dick?”, asks Jason drowsily.

“Yeah?”, Dick whispers back, still staring up at the sky.

“I don’t wanna get up.”

“Me neither, Jay. ‘nother minute?”

“Yeah.”

They’re quiet again, Dick knowing full well that they need to get up and keep moving but not quite able to do anything with that knowledge just yet.

Something begins to drift down through the orange-haze; Dick watches it distantly, rubs tiredly at his runny nose.

A feathery speck of snow falls softly to the ground before them.

Then another.

Shit.

It’s not dry enough for the snow to lodge, but that won’t make their unfinished journey any less miserable.

Then there’s a thump from above- too heavy and solid to be anything other than a person.

Then another thump, and another.

Double shit.

Damian is having a reasonably good evening, all things considered.

Is it colder than anyone would like? Yes, yes it is.

Did Kent call earlier like he said he would? No, no he did not.

But Damian isn’t letting any of that bother him- there’s crime to fight, justice to uphold, etcetera, etcetera.

Besides, he’s rather enjoying knocking the stuffing out of the would-be jewel thief before him.

Or at least, he would be, if the degenerate would ever show some consideration and stop running away.

Coward.

(Damian’s evening is, perhaps, not going as well as he is trying to convince himself it is.)

The thief clears the gap between two buildings with surprising ease, seeing as he has no grapple gun to support him.

Damian tails him still, grip tight on the non-lethal staff Father had insisted on.

They had argued about it (again) only earlier that evening, actually.

It’s understandable that Father would prefer that Drake abstain from lethal force- Drake hasn’t been trained in the art of death from birth, after all. Drake can barely be trusted to tell one end of a blade from the other.

But Damian is a master- the best of his generation, it had always been whispered. Damian can be trusted to kill quickly and efficiently- or slowly and painfully, as required.

Damian is more than capable of-

The thief swerves suddenly and Damian copies- but the rooftop is covered with a thin layer of treacherous frost and Damian perhaps hadn’t been paying quite as much attention to his surroundings as he should have been- what would Grandfather say?

Damian stumbles, temporarily drops to one knee, before regaining his balance.

It’s a tiny slip- a microscopic mistake in the grand scheme of things- but it’s enough.

America has made him soft.

The thief is further ahead than he should be- he hops down to the next building, and then down again into a dingy alleyway.

Damian continues his pursuit- trying his best to force down the little bubble of desperation- he must catch up in time- he can’t disappoint Father- he can’t.

Damian drops into the alleyway, head automatically snapping to the left to see the thief racing away. They’re on better terrain now- Damian can catch up. He can.

It’s then that he hears it; a quiet sniff.

Almost against his will, Damian turns his head away from the criminal’s retreating figure.

There are two people huddled together in the doorway next to him.

Two very small people watching him with wide, frightened, eyes.

Children- younger than Drake- tiny and alone and shaking with fear, cold, or both.

Instinctively, Damian reaches out to them and they flinch.

They’re afraid of him.

To the best of his knowledge, Damian has never frightened children before. The other children in the League might have been wary of him, but they were never afraid. Drake might have been uneasy when they first met, but soon irritation outweighed all other emotion.

But now one child is clearly trying to shield the other from him- as if Damian is likely to snap and rage.

As if Damian is likely to hurt them.

Something about this does not sit well with Damian- perhaps it’s the novelty of the situation, perhaps it’s the not-very-good day he’s been having, perhaps it’s Father’s philosophy winding around the recesses of his mind.

He remembers, very suddenly, that there are two parts to the Batman’s mission statement, though Damian does tend to only consider the first half.

To punish the guilty and protect the innocent.

Appearances can be deceptive, and youth is no indicator of nature, but Damian is pretty sure that it is the innocent who are staring up at him in mute terror.

He glances after the jewel thief- still visible at the mouth of the alley. If he ran now, he could probably catch up.

But there are two children alone in Gotham on a cold night who are absolutely terrified of him and seem rather lacking in the resources department.

Damian takes in how underdressed the older child is- his full-body shivers and bloody nose. The other child is bundled up and mostly hidden from view but from what little Damian can see, he doesn’t seem all that healthy.

It’s snowing.

Damian looks after the criminal- the guilty who must be punished- and comes to a decision.

He sheathes his staff, drops his shoulders, and looks down at the children, trying very hard to radiate non-threatening energy.

He isn’t sure if it’s working.

“What are you doing out here?”, Damian asks, trying to imitate the soft voice that Father sometimes uses when Damian is…uneasy.

The older child swipes at his nose, doesn’t seem to notice the blood left on his hand.

“Nothing,” he mumbles, still leaning away from Damian.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Damian counters, still trying to do the Voice. “It looks like you’re planning on staying there for a while, and not by choice either.”

The boy looks at him for a long moment, before admitting quietly, “Maybe.”

Damian mentally pats himself on the back for this minor victory.

Protect the innocent.

“Do you- “, Damian starts, but he is interrupted by the second child breaking his silence to let out an extremely unpleasant-sounding, wet, hacking, cough.

The first child turns away from Damian immediately to rub his brother’s back.

When the fit subsides about two minutes later, Damian catches the tiny whisper of “You okay, Jaybird?”, and the even tinier, breathless, “Yeah.”

“You need to see a doctor,” says Damian matter-of-factly.

“I know,” mutters the older boy, not looking at Damian.

“I know where to find a clinic with a fantastic doctor,” Damian offers, surprising himself with the realisation that he is willing to take these two all the way over to Dr Hopkins’ if necessary.

“We can’t- “, the boy starts, conflict clearly playing out on his face. Then his expressions hardens. “We don’t need your charity.”

Damian aches with the urge to point out that they very clearly need someone’s charity, but resists. That sort of barb rarely goes over well with Drake, never mind two virtual strangers.

He sighs. “I know you don’t.”

They’re in a stalemate then- Damian (for reasons which not even he entirely understands) unwilling to leave them as he found them, and neither of the two boys willing to accept his help.

Damian crouches down in a bid to make himself less intimidating, though both boys watch him cautiously. The older one tightens his grip on his brother.

“Do you know who I am?”, Damian asks quietly.

The children stare at him for a moment, eyes skittering all over his uniform and hopefully lingering on the bat symbol.

“You work with Batman,” whispers the smaller boy hoarsely.

Damian nods. “I do. And what does Batman do?”

“Fight crime?”, offers the sick child.

“And?”

The boy with the bloody nose sighs. “And help people who need it. Which we don’t,” he hastens to add.

Damian looks at them levelly and then repeats something that Pennyworth has told him quietly time after time, though Damian has never truly listened to the words until now.

“Everyone needs help sometimes, and everyone is allowed to get help.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, both children watching him with wide, considering, eyes.

“We can’t pay the doctor,” says the older boy, slouching.

“She won’t charge you.”

“You sure?”, whispers the sick one, squinting at Damian.

He nods, which seems to be enough for the sick boy.

“Le’ss go, Dick.”

The newly identified Dick looks at his brother again. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

“I can think of plenty of reasons,” mutters Dick, before sighing. “Alright then, let’s go get our organs stolen.”

“She won’t take your organs,” reassures Damian.

“That’s what they all say.”

Dick stands up stiffly and rubs at his nose again. He notices the blood this time, but merely frowns at his hand in response.

“What happened?”, Damian asks, though Dick only shrugs before pulling on the coat previously wrapped around his little brother.

There’s a bit of difficulty then, as the younger boy very shakily stands up and nearly falls over, though Dick manages to save him and prop him upright under his arm.

Standing up now, it’s clear that the boys can’t be any older than about eleven and neither of them looks like he has regular meals.

“Lead ahead,” says Dick.

“Lead on,” corrects his brother tiredly. “’r go ahead.”

Dick shrugs again.

Damian starts walking, though he’s only made it a few feet before realising that the boys are still behind him and only slowly shuffling forward.

They both look exhausted, and whilst Dick may be in better shape than his brother, he’s still trembling ever so slightly and walking stiffly.

Damian tilts his head for a moment, considering.

Then he stands on Dick’s free side- he thinks he knows better than to go near Dick’s younger brother given the sharp look Dick keeps giving him- and props him under his arm.

“Let’s go then,” says Damian, pretending not to see the strange looks he is being given.

Neither boy says anything in response but the three of them begin to make their achingly slow way forward, ungainly as one might expect such a convoy to be.

Damian can feel how horrifyingly cold Dick is under his arm and doesn’t even want to consider how cold his brother probably is.

He twists his cape around with his free hand and drapes it around the other two’s shoulders without breaking stride.

“Thanks,” mumbles Dick.

His brother makes a hoarse noise that may or may not also be a thank you.

“You’re welcome,” says Damian uncomfortably.

People do not often thank him.

(Damian wonders, briefly, if the children would have been willing to trust him at all if he had been carrying a more deadly weapon and doesn’t like how the answer makes him feel.)

They continue to walk in silence.

It’s going to be a long night.

Many, many, hours later Damian is standing at his father’s side in the Batcave, as his father types away on the computer.

Drake is somewhere nearby, polishing something- Damian can hear his breathing.

Pennyworth is on Father’s other side, dutifully copying down a wall of text from a smaller screen- Damian can’t hear his breathing.

“The thief escaped,” Father says. It is and isn’t a question.

Damian nods, though adds, “I believe he will strike again in the financial district sometime in the next two weeks,” by way of a meagre apology.

“You last reported in from Leslie’s clinic.”

“Yes.”

There is a long pause, as Damian tries to compose his thoughts and Father waits- ever patient.

“I had to protect the innocent,” he says eventually.

Father stops his typing and Drake stops pretending to be doing whatever it is that he’s been doing.

“Oh?”, asks Father, the closest Damian has ever gotten to a ‘go on’ from him.

“There were two children,” says Damian, not looking at his Father. “They needed medical attention, amongst other things. I found them as I pursued the thief and- “

“And you chose to protect the innocent rather than punish the guilty,” Father finishes.

Damian nods. “I did.”

Father actually turns his head to look at him, which means that Damian’s gaze is drawn- magnetised- to his.

“I’m proud of you,” Father says, voice warm and soft.

There is a lump in Damian’s throat all of a sudden.

He nods and chokes out, “Thank you.”

They stay like that a moment, Father’s calm blue eyes on his own teary green.

And then Father says, “Jon Kent called whilst you were out.”

Damian finally looks away from his father. “Oh?”

“He wanted to ask you about your chemistry project.”

Damian clicks his tongue. “I told him I’d tell him tomorrow.”

“Best go to bed then- it’s been a long day.”

Damian nods again. “Goodnight Father. Goodnight Pennyworth.”

He pauses for a very long moment, before eventually adding, “Goodnight, Drake.”

Drake says from somewhere that may or may not be in the rafters, “Goodnight Damian,” and then Damian goes to bed.

Damian falls asleep and dreams of softly falling snow and orange-tinted skies and part of an old, slow, song.

Softly, softly turn the key And open up my heart.

#dc #batfam #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #family relationships #tw: blood #it's a nosebleed #one-shot #only tagged characters w real screentime sorry tim n alfred n ig bruce #dgs #sickfic #kinda #might go back n tweak this at some point maybe add more damian pov

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iphoenixrising · 6 years

Text

Masterlist v3

(It’s been a few months, so I thought this might be in order. Updated yet fricking again gaaaah!

AO3: Fracture (fanart!); Distractions, Forward Momentum (Avengers)

Tumblr

Poison-Basil’s Art:

iPhoenixrising (my wonderfully talented artist/writer babe literally made my spirit animal)

Fracture Chapter 1: It’s Tim asleep on the bathroom floor where Dick and Jay find him (God, it’s amazing >.<)

Fracture Chapter 29: The intense almost between Dick and Red

BABE MADE ME A WHIRLYBIRD

Detective!Dick, Red Hood!Tim au Art

Dr!Tim Art!!

No Home for Dead Birds: (Eventual Conner/Bart/Tim maybe)

Chapter I

Chapter II

Drabble

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X p1

Chapter X p2

Kon’s Drabble

Warning for mentions of suicide

NHDB What-If

The Red Hood

Dick Grayson

The Last Titan Standing

Redux (NSFW)

Tumblr Ask: Tim/Kon/Bart; warning for abuse of TTK, super-powers, and literally making Tim scream. All kinds of NSFW.

Chapter XI

What’s In a Name?

Tumblr Ask: Pride Parade

*Night Call (Tim/Jay Stripper Verse AU):

Part 1

Part 2 (NSFW)

Final Part: 3

*DC AOB Attempt (Omega Tim/ Alpha Dick/ Alpha Jay. Very Porn with Plot and Angst):

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6: The Demon’s Head: (Warnings: Tim/Ra’s non-con but the journey and subsequent revenge are oh so sweet.)

Part 7: Probably Finale with @satire-please

Ask from Tumblr: The Heat Fallout: (I wrote a follow-up to this…but it’s terrible and sweet, and I just never posted it >.<)

Ask from Tumblr: Two Alphas in Rut and one cute Omega (Very NSFW)

Ask from Tumblr: Pregnancy Scare

Ask from Tumblr: Bonding and Shit

Shameless PWP from Tumblr: Vibrators and whatnot

Tim wearing the ‘Eat Me’ shirt Ask

AOB Ask: Two Times Tim’s Alphas Needed Him and the One Time He Needed Them (some smut ensues; also part of the 500 Follower Post)

*Marvel AOB Attempt (Omega Tony/ Alpha Bucky/ Alpha Steve):

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Night Sky (Possible future to the Fracture Verse, Tim/Older!Dami)

Ask

Drabble

Part 1

Part 2 (NSFW)

Part 3

Finale ( Warnings for things like Robinpiles and NSFW; that said, I’m absurdly proud of this smut)

Destroyed (a multiverse conglomeration of Bad Ass!Tim in a world where the Insurgents took over the planet):

Part 1

Part 2 (NSFW)

Part 3

(What if Tim doesn’t leave from Tumblr)

Justice is Blind AU (Blind!Tim):

Part I

Part II

Drabble

Ask fic

Part V

Drabble (beware of Superbats)

Angsty stuff that kind of goes together? (Before NHDB, this is the ‘Tim isn’t forgiving your ass’ realm from my brain pan):

Clean

Drabble

Realize

Meeting

Mistake

Forward Momentum Things

(MCU Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes; eventual Steve/Bucky/Tony)

Forward Momentum Drabble

Coffee

Observation

Dr!Tim:

Dr!Tim au: How it all Began (light NSFW)

Follow-Up Drabble

Dr!Tim Drabbles: The Mentor; The Suit; Med School drab

Dick Grayson’s acrobatic talent (surprise, it’s smut)

Dr!Tim Drabbles: Stephanie Brown and Batgirl

Dr!Tim Drabble: The Joker (I really enjoy playing around with the baddies sometimes and the Joker was an interesting character)

Playing around with Submissive Dr!Tim (so much NSFW)

Dr!Tim Safewords out Ask; Follow-up: Drabble: Sub-Drop (adult themes)

Dr!Tim: London Bridge is Falling Down (Bad ass Tim and a little hurt/comfort at the end)

Missing Scene from “London Bridge” (cute and a little angsty with Hurt Dr.!Tim and the L-word)

Post London Bridge Ask (guest starring Tony Stark)

Meet and Greet

Cute Dr. Tim taking care of overwrought Dick Ask (NSFW; adult themes)

Dr!Tim Ask: Arkham Riot

Dr!Tim and Fracture!Tim Ask

Dr!Tim and Overly Protective Robin

Dr!Tim PTSD Ask (on the 500 Followers post)

Dr!Tim Drabble: Robin (also on the 500 Followers post. I’m absurdly proud of this nsfw and Dr!Tim getting one night in the cape. Bad ass Dr. Drake is no slouch.) Also with the help of THIS ASK!

Follower Posts!

100 Followers! Night Sky Drabble with Tim and Older! Dami; Sleeping Tim Drabble; MCU Steve/Bucky/Tony drabble Hurt/Comfort; Cross-over au! Where Dick and Jay admit their feelings to Tim; NHDB depressing drabble (Dick/Tim);

200 Followers! Tumblr Ask about Tim having scars from his childhood rather than as a vigilante; Justice is Blind Drabble: Tim and Lady Shiva; NHDB Prompt, sad Dick/Tim; Sick!Tony ask; Sad Ask: Red Robin Posthumous Award

300 Followers!: AOB Drabbles: The Pack (Cass and Fear Toxin) and Mating Bite; Body Swap: The Follow-Up (which I wasn’t really happy with but oh well); Fracture What-If Continuation for Anon; Dr!Tim Drabbles: Jay/Tim Fluff and Smut

400 Followers! : Dr. Tim: The Birthday Present, Robin’s Redemption (such a play on them both), Cross-Over AU! (Marvel Universe and Tim gets a second chance at being Robin), The Suit (shameless Dick/Tim)

500 Followers! Masterpost

Future au!

Part I: Pre-Fracture Tim and a little bit of time travel. How is going to take the “Night Sky” verse? (An attempt at making Fracture go full circle)

Part II: Continuation of lost Future Bats, mentions of Superbats, and attempts at coddling.

Bat Prompts and Drabbles:

Hard Fracture What-If (featuring BatDad and intense feelings; what if B had picked up Red after the Insurgents Battle and brought him back to the Cave right then and there? Watch your feels)

Space Salvagers AU (Jay/Tim)

Soulmate thing: Robins

Bodyswap (Dick & Tim); Body Swap: The Fallout

Concussion Confessions

The night the Flying Graysons Died

Firefly Cross-Over for Tim Drake Week (Jason is Mal; Dick is Inara; Tim is Simon; Cass is Tam; Steph is Wash; Roy is Zoe, etc)

Of Owfucks and Accents

Worth the Wait (for Travelallover’s birthday): Based on Robin #10 NSFW Dick/Tim

De-Aged Jay (based on fanart)

Stalker Photos

Dick/Jay/Tim Fluff: Tim being Tim Ask

Graduation (maybe Fracture Verse)

Hilarity ensues

Jay/Tim Praise Kink (NSFW)

Soulmate Ask (from the 500 Follower Post) and follow-up long post

Venom/Demon! Jay (Warning: it’s smut. Tim/Dick/Jay)

Detective!Dick, Red Hood!Tim au (for my babe @poison-basil)

NSFW Drab based of @curdleddoodle amazing art

Dick/Tim/Dami: (Older!Dami, some angst, some fluff)

Drabble 1 Lazy Mornings

Drabble 2: Left Standing (Tim angst and feels)

Drabble 3 Ra’s al Ghul gets the memo

Drabble 4 (Dami feels)

Old Fracture Drabbles:

Superbats What-If

Convergence: Bringing together all the Tims. (Just an idea I played around with: Dr!Tim, Fracture Tim, Destroyed Tim, Justice is Blind Tim, and Detective Comics Tim)

Injury/Healing for Tim Drake week (hilarity ensues; Tim is thwarted by Dick’s Sixth Sense)

Holidays:

Cute Holiday Cheer,

Sad What-Could-Have-Happened Prompt based off this

Angst:

A NHDB kind of Verse,

'What if Dick didn't catch Tim when he fell through the window' Prompt (aftermath of Character Death),

Jason v. the Pit and then I saw this

Tim is going to keep kicking ass

“I’ve already forgiven you, but I won’t make the same mistake twice” Ask (Dick Grayson & Tim Drake)

Fooled You Tim/Ra’s Valentine’s Day thing

Subdue (Tim/Ra’s non-con; be careful if you read this, tagged for triggers)

Silence: (Dark!Jason Todd, Tim Drake. Warning: Major Character Death)

Heavy in Your Arms Part I Jason Todd angst; Based off the song with the same title by Florence + the Machine

Heavy in Your Arms Part II

Kid!Tim fics (The Tiny!Tim universe):

Window Seat

Kid!Tim is discovered

Tiny!Tim and the Fever

Tiny!Tim and the Secret (From the 500 Follower Post)

Talon!Tim

Ask in which the idea of Talon!Tim became a thing

Talon!au Ask (in which babe wrote most of the thing)

Mer!Dick, Mer!Jay

Ask 1 (Mainly NSFW)

Ask 2 (in which I like it better if they speak Mer language they can’t understand each other; breeding kink, NSFW)

Crossover: Avengers/Bats

Tim stays in the MCU

And goes out as Robin

Tony Stark being a bro

Early NSFW (Please be advised):

Need (first in the DCU)

Prompt: “ Here’s a nice image for you. Jason has Tim bent over the counter...” (I was so new to Tumblr, I just threw it up as quote LOL)

Voltron: (They all stink, please see @satire-please for better stuff)

Team Dynamics

Left Behind

Waking

You Not the Lion

Miraculous Ladybug

Play : Shameless Adrien/Ladybug, MariChat, and Adrinette (if only I covered LadyNoir. Damn) with fake identity porn and hetero smut.

The Way to His Heart: Not smut! But, an adorb reveal fic. Since Marinette is the first to realize how starved Adrien is and sets herself on rectifying that problem. Cue the same for Chat Noir. The ensuing revelation is sweet with a touch of angst.

Non-Fiction stuff (I guess?)

Writing

Writing Choices

A little bit about Jason Todd’s mouth (just some ramblings about how his accent kind of evolved

#masterlist #of ALL THE THINGS #so many things #winters writing #with wonderful peeps along the way #long fricking post

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applegelstore · 6 years

Photo

What a wonderful summary of basically every JRPG ever! Welcome on board then, Milady of Calamity. As usual, have my pointless dumb commentary on the latest Rays chapter. Spoilers: I loved it. I know I say that every time, but I, like… loved loved loved it. More spoilers: Mileena’s gayness reaches critical levels that go beyond human comprehension. Velvet’s boobies on constant display are simply too much for her. It was to be expected. Actual spoilers (very vaguely for Berseria and Zesty, but you all know them, anyway) and said commentary with lots and lots of screenshots under the cut.

I would have to comment on basically every single line to pay this wonderful rollercoaster of laughter and feels proper credit, but then we’ll sit here all day, and I still intend to draw and work and such. But let me tell that absolutely every line that comes out of Edna’s mouth is gold. That’s not news, but still. She’s got a field day here. Okay, let’s go back to the beginning of our adventure…

OMG Mileena

So am I. Ix clearly ate that worldbuilding guidance timeline whatever book

Shhh Edna, you don’t understand. Nerdy protagonists are cool these days.

It’s okay, Mileena, you no longer need to hide it, we know that you have a crush on every single girl that has ever crossed your path so far

Mileena, there’s at least two reasons why what you just suggested is not even remotely okay…! But as for the threesome with Velvet and Ix, I’m glad you’re at least asking for his consent

Am I the only one who keeps thinking you could do a Berseria-Zesty protagonist swap and playing them off against the respective game’s big bads would still work? I mean Sorey’s Dream (TM) would still make him want to viva la revolution the entire church, and Velvet would go HE HURT PHI, HE’S GOING DOWN against Heldalf in no time. It’d be a blast

I hate to tell you this, honey, but the only person whose self-preservation skills are officially even worse than yours is Milla and that’s not saying much

THAT’S TYPE 3 MALEVOLENCE IT’S OKAY SHE’S JUST CLINICALLY DEPRESSED AND HAS ANGER ISSUES no harm done I’m sorry

Well, I guess a confession is better than bottling up all the feelings and sexual tension. All that the motherfucking lady of calamity needs is looooooooooooove

…and being spoon-fed by a cranky old auntie stuck in the body of a twelve-year-old

Can we appreciate the beauty of said cranky old auntie stuck in the body of a twelve-year-old standing between the motherfucking Lady of Calamity and our resident baby Shepherd to stop them from hitting each other with sticks

Ix needs help. So much help. Poor Ix. Save him

It’s okay, Velvet, don’t panic! They’re married, that’s all. Probably since age 5 or something. But it’s okay. It’s consensual. Just a bit unusual, maybe!

Helpful advise from big sis Edna

I’ll send this memo to Ufotable. BTW I’m glad that the kids already start to build up trust, it’s gonna take some if you intend to spend a few hundred centuries locked up together in a shared apartment, aye? I mean not that it’s gonna happen in this AU I guess, but… still.

Save him

Ix doesn’t seem to mind?

Pretty sure that’s enough people to found a club?

I’m glad that this particularly cracktastic skit will not ever be forgotten

You have weird hobbies, Edna

Goddamn, you should have learned THAT lesson aeons ago you nerd

Ow yeah, end this chapter by trampling on my feels, why don’t ya! But hey, if nobody dies in this fluffy canon divergent AU, and nobody goes dragon…?

BONUS: 

RAINE NO

#Tales of the Rays #Tales of the Rays whine tag #Tales of Zestiria #Tales of Berseria #Tales of Berseria spoilers #Tales of Zestiria spoilers

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alkhale · 4 years

Text

Memos Age Swap AU (ko-fi request)

If I was reading your post correctly I can request a snippet? If that is correct I am a tad bit desperate for more of the age swap memos au with the younger Shanks and Mihawk~~~~~

(You guys spoil me with some of these requests.)

“Sorry, brats, I know it’s a bit uncomfortable but just bear with me for a bit.”

I could bear with this for an eternity. Shanks thought amiably, calmly, almost saying the words just as pleasantly. I can even make this a lot more bearable for the both of us.

The heavy tromp tromp tromp of marine issued boots forced small rocks and pebbles to come raining down onto their heads. Soldiers shouted left and right above them, running like chickens without heads as they searched fruitlessly for the dangerously high bounty wielding pirates they’d happened upon.

They really think they can catch me? Shanks grinned a bit at the thought. They can’t even catch Buggy! Admiral Koby was a different matter, but with these new rookies and soldiers, it was a cake walk in the park. Honestly, they didn’t even really need to be hiding.

So why were they hiding?

Because Shanks was one lucky sea dog, that’s why.

I don’t know what I did in my past life. Shanks thought belatedly, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. But I’m glad I did it.

The particular town they’d happened upon for restocking supplies had become swarmed with marines all following the rumor that the Pirate King himself would be stopping by just because this town made a particularly amazing dish of charred sea king. Sure enough, Monkey D. Luffy had come, sending people screaming for the hills and marines quaking in their boots because Monkey D. Luffy was not a man who hid what he did and could care less about what anyone thought of it.

“I wanted some good meat!”

The news of their arrival had sent shivers down Shanks’ spine, a rolling, buzzing hum of excitement in the presence of the man he wanted to become. The man he sought to climb towards, higher and higher and—the thought of seeing his beautiful crewmate.

Shanks was another year older, of course, and another year wiser. He was handsome and charming and he was a son of the sea. He’d had his romp in the hay with several beautiful women in his time so far, had his little flings, his little moments of adoration over lovely, fearsome ladies but, but, but.

He spent nights in his bunk haunted by ocean eyes.

Shanks and Buggy had split down the middle of town, Buggy hauling the rest of their provisions while Shanks shook the marines off their tale in a classic little game. What he hadn’t gambled on was running face-to-chest first into mounds of soft flesh and muscle, accompanied by a short, rough ka!

The two of them had smashed into one more thing, bowling over and knocking into two wooden doors, holding closed an old ale cellar. Just before they’d all toppled head first, Hoku’s boots had smacked outwards, her sword hitting the side of the cellar tunnel and then they’d been left, suspended mid-air, squeezed so tightly together they had wedged themselves in.

Stuck.

“Why am I always running into you,” Hoku had wondered, not at all annoyed, almost playful amused as always, though a bit strained from the tight space. “You’ve got some bad luck, Red Hair.”

Shanks thought the absolute opposite. He had some damn good luck.

“Beautiful as always, dove,” Shanks purred, a bit of a wheeze to his words from their tight proximity. “You’ve been gone too long.”

Very good luck because here Shanks was, his back pressed flat against cobblestone and dirt, wedged from falling down some long tunnel cellar. Here he was, the smell of the ocean and perhaps copper and something else winding all around him, bright, paper white hair pulled into a wispy bun atop her head. Hoku’s toned, powerful thighs wrapped around his hips as her boots braced them against the wall behind them—God, he could feel her sitting on his thighs—her chest pressed close, close, close to his face, one arm grabbing her sword, the other wedged tight in-between them so she couldn’t move it.

Keep your head in your heart, Shanks, buddy, you can do it. He was about to lose his mind, to be perfectly honest.

But there was only one small hiccup to this little rendevouz. Small, miniscule and unnecessary.

“Sorry,” Hoku apologized again, turning her head a bit. “I know it’s tight. You alright?”

Dracule Mihawk, currently wedged into the other side of the cellar tunnel, also supporting Hoku’s weight over his thighs, hands settled calmly onto his legs, dangerously close to Hoku’s hips, chest pressed tight to her back—simply nodded.

The three of them.

“Why the hell are you here?” Shanks mouthed over Hoku’s shoulder. Mihawk stared dully at him. “When’d you even get here?”

Mihawk blinked once, slowly, giving Shanks a moment to consider.

Shanks made shush motions with his head, jerking rapidly with his finger to Hoku who was more focused on how she was going to haul herself out of this little tunnel—the two brats should be fine on their own. Mihawk continued to look at him as though he were no more than a bug before calmly moving his lips.

“Followed her,” Mihawk mouthed. “To find him.”

Memories of bright spearmint and a wandering hand placed firmly on the hilt of Hoku’s sword made Shanks sour a touch. Mihawk leaned his head back against the wall, calmly waiting.

I should just make the most of this wonderful situation. Shanks thought, leaning a little more forward. Hoku didn’t seem to mind, his head resting in the soft dip of her collarbone, above her chest. “Dove, where’s your crew headed off to next?”

“Hm?” Hoku glanced down at him, moving awkwardly to shift her head. “My crew? What’s it to you?” Her eyes sparkled dangerously. “Your captain looking to cause some trouble?”

“Of course not,” Shanks said, lips curling upwards. “Not yet at least. I just want to know where I can find you next. My heart can’t take these yearly meet-ups.”

“Be glad it’s only a year,” Hoku said. “Nothing good could come of anymore than that.”

Shanks frowned, “Dove! I’d see you any—”

“Hey, brat,” Hoku said. Shanks looked up obediently and she rolled her eyes. “The other brat.” Mihawk blinked his eyes open. “Can you move that arm?”

Mihawk wordlessly raised his left hand. Hoku grinned, “Good. I’ve got a brush right here,” she motioned with her chin to her breasts and Shanks blinked, mind halting. “Think you can reach it?”

What?

“What?” Shanks squawked. Hoku glanced to him and Mihawk simply kept his hand raised, expressionless. “Wait a minute, I can—”

“Your hands are stuck there,” Hoku said, motioning to where his hands were wedged between her back, cradling the dip of lean skin and stuck against Mihawk’s chest. “He’s got a free one. If you can get it free, pass it to me and I’ll get us out of this. Goddess knows the marines would have a field day with us.”

“I’ll use my mouth!” Shanks offered.

Hoku rolled her eyes at him, “Don’t make it more complicated. It’s just right there, alright? Can’t miss it.”

Mihawk’s hand raised itself from Hoku’s hip, reaching over her shoulder and brushing against her chin. Shanks watched his fingertips, souring and glowering, but unable to stop the transfixed, almost magnetized way he watched. Hoku tipped her head to the side, exposing a column of soft tan, lined with an array of thin, unhealed scars that stood out unsightly against her skin. Unsightly to anyone else. The kind that didn’t heal in a smooth little line, but stood out ragged, as though she’d been burned.

What stories you must be able to tell. Shanks swallowed, a hard bob against his throat. His hands pressed a little harder into her back. Mihawk’s golden gaze flickered to him once, his hand slowly brushing past Hoku’s collarbone, pulling the top aside.

Shanks’ breath caught in his throat.

Mihawk’s fingers dipped. Soft skin exposed, the soft mound of flesh. Shanks’ hands pressed a little harder into Hoku’s back, his hips fitting a little more snug. Hoku shifted, looking back to them from where she’d been watching the mouth of the cellar.

“Sanji! I think I smell her over here!”

“Over there? In that dirty cellar? Hoku Honey, where are you?”

Mihawk’s hand paused. Shanks blinked, looking startled and Hoku’s eyes brightened, a happy grin curling over her lips.

“Sanji!” Hoku shouted, uncaring for any marines that might hear. At Mihawk’s unsettled look she added, “None of ‘em will be coming this way if those two are up there. Sanji! Chopper!”

A shadow fell over the three of them as Shanks looked up in shock. Golden blonde hair fell in a heavy lock over one eye, the strands pulled back into a small ponytail at the base of his neck. His suit jacket left a few buttons undone, a neat, even trim on his chin. Rolling muscles and—

“Hoku Honey!” Vinsmoke Sanji cried, smoke trailing up from his lips as he peered down the tunnel. “What are you doing down there, my love?”

“Love?” Shanks repeated.

“Got a bit stuck,” Hoku called up sheepishly. “Lend me a hand?”

“Of course my—who the hell are those beasts?” Sanji barked out, nearly throwing himself over the side of the cellar. “What the—get your grimy paws off Hoku, snot nosed brats!”

“Ah! That’s the scary kid who’s been fighting Zoro! And that’s eek! Hoku! That kid’s traveling with that scary rookie!” Chopper’s snout peeked over the rim of the cellar. “Are you hurt?”

“Peachy,” Hoku said. “We just ran into each other. No harm done.”

She flashed Shanks a look filled with fonder amusement, “Too much these days though.”

“Not enough, dove,” Shanks murmured, eyes trained on her lips and the rise and fall of her chest. Hoku frowned, arching a curious brow.

“No harm done, huh?” Sanji said darkly, eyeing Shanks and Mihawk’s hands and their compromised position. Shanks frowned, flexing his fingers against Hoku’s back with a pout. “Alright, Hoku Honey! Give me just one second~ I’ll get you out right away!”

His words finally slapped hard into the side of Shanks’ head, breaking him from his daze. Mihawk remained silent, leaning his head back against the wall behind him as his hands returned to Hoku’s hips. She shifted, leaning more of her weight onto Shanks’ thighs and he cursed under his breath, mind racing to figure out someway to make this last a second longer—

“When can I see you again?” Shanks murmured.

“Me?” Hoku looked back to him. “You’re better off not seeing me again, brat.”

“I want too,” Shanks said. “I’ll die if I don’t.”

“Still talking sweet,” Hoku said, a bit soft. Shanks shook his head. “Listen, kid, you ought to just—”

“I really,” Hoku froze, she leaned back on instinct, resting against the warm press of Mihawk’s open chest. Shanks pressed forward, his forehead coming to rest on the bare skin of her collarbone. “Really want to see you again, dove.”

A moment. A beat. Shanks raised his head, eyes swimming, the smell of her, the feel of her, the press of skin and the too tempting touch making him feel drunk on bravery, on the slim chance he could sneak off with—

“Here I am, Hoku Honey!” Toned, suited legs came down, polished loafers effectively smashing into Shanks’ cheek and nearly Mihawk’s forehead. Sanji had been lowered, all cologne and cigarette smoke by one arm as he stretched out his other.

“Sanji,” Hoku said, happy and light. “Thanks.”

She promptly shifted her grip on her sword and Sanji’s fingers easily found hers, wrapping tightly and weaving through as he tugged her arm up and over his neck. Hoku’s weight was promptly ripped from between the two teens, Sanji’s arm snaking firmly and politely over the curve of her hip. Hoku dropped her sword down and Sanji’s waiting hand caught it midair, tucking it snug against her lower back. He swooned, eyes filled with hearts as Hoku freed her arm and wrapped them both around his neck, pressing a light kiss to his chin.

“Anything for you, my love!” Sanji crooned. “Pull us up, Chopper!”

“Aye!” came the muffled reply. Shanks blinked and Mihawk’s legs quickly shot out, the disappearance of Hoku’s weight forcing the two of them to shove both their legs as far as they could reach, smacking into the opposite wall of each other.

“It was nice seeing you again, brats,” Hoku called down to them, a small smile playing on her lips while Sanji glared hot daggers over the top of her head. “Good luck, yeah?”

Shanks’ mouth opened in protest while Mihawk simply inclined his head in a small nod.

“See you on the Grand Line!”

And then just like that, with a muttered curse from Sanji and a soft word, they were gone.

Shanks blinked, a tumble of emotions welling up in his chest until the clearest realization came to the forefront, bringing his attention to Mihawk across from him.

They were still stuck together.

“Okay,” Shanks said. “I’ll tell you what, we need to scream as loud as we can for a guy named Buggy on three, okay?”

Mihawk stared at him as one would a bug.

#ko-fi request #sketchbananafairy #memos #Hoku #memos age swap au #memos au #shanks #mihawk #ShaKu #young!shanks #young!mihawk #older!hoku

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