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ladychandraofthemoone · 2 years

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I posted 6,901 times in 2022

That's 3,092 more posts than 2021!

38 posts created (1%)

6,863 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sodor-spirit

@pcktknife

@putuponpercy

@projectanimations

@c-rose2081

I tagged 6,898 of my posts in 2022

#ttte - 2,621 posts

#humanization - 1,919 posts

#ttte humanized - 1,897 posts

#encanto - 993 posts

#pokemon - 714 posts

#monster high - 690 posts

#mh - 676 posts

#fashion - 452 posts

#miraculous - 420 posts

#video - 398 posts

Longest Tag: 129 characters

#plus luisa would bond with a murdoch expy over their strength and that murdoch class is the last to be built before dieselazation

My Top Posts in 2022:

✨THE GIRLS R GOSSIPING ✨

I adore @himynameiscosmopathy08 Art like her Lily so much, I had just had to draw her interacting with my Lily. They’ll be besties despite the AU differences. (My Lily gifted her the fan.)

🎭Nothing speaks better than trading each other secrets,working shenanigans & family drama with your cousin 🎭

““Oh my gosh, your Colin crashed into houses!?”

““He did. He may be gago sometimes but he’s not reckless or crazy.”

“What about your Adam? Are you two close?”

“Not anymore I’m afraid. I’m assuming your Adam didn’t try to attack you.”

““HE DID WHAT?!”

12 notes - Posted December 9, 2022

Some crovan can’t communicate doodles, been watching Komi can’t communicate and Edward’s Ally both I highly recommend watching and decided to make a au, since this is how much my verison of crovan would work ‘Like the show, crovan doesn’t speak or talk, but instead of being seen as husbando he’s seen as weird or how the sudrians like that he doesn’t say anything mean but are kinda unnerved by his stare and the fact her appears out of nowhere sometimes without making a sound but he isn’t been mean like Gordon or Alfred

He and Alfred aren’t friends or anything more like crovan avoiding Alfred like the plague and can’t be in the same room as him cause Alfred basically bullied him like the rest of the coworkers of his former railway, harassing and tormenting him then Alfred takes it far by stating something asking to him liking that crovan is quite since he was annoying and other mean words so it results in crovan being absolutely terrified of how others would respond and think of him. Alfred has the absolute gall of complaining that crovan doesn’t talk to anyone. Geez I wonder why 😒

So instead this results as a response to trauma inside of a communication disorder since his anxiety stems from feared of being laughed and mocked for everything he did. Edward like the video helps out with crovan coming out of his shell revealing the scared lonely soul underneath. They’ve become pretty protective of one another with Edward defending crovan with words while crovan defends him with glares and intimidation though he can’t defend himself but it’s ok the squad coming to protect and whoop kick beat them.

So now he kinda trails around edward and is pretty much a scary bodyguard and sorta ends up in a friend group with Edward Henry Thomas and eagle (and later percy Boco bill and Ben, the last two forming a mini protection squad with trying to help crovan talk, although one time it ends with crovan in tears and edward’s scolding them (mostly bill and Ben who were very apologetic). He’s one of the few they don’t play pranks or tricks on, knowing of his past.)

his design is slightly inspired by the wonderful fabulous @projectanimations since they have a lovely design for crovan while edwards is basically a mashup of every Edward design I liked though that’s still a WiP

15 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

HERE’S MORE NARROW GAUGE GALS!! Quick sketch on Millie, who I based off of Undine Wells from Sleepless Domain, hence the pose and hairstyle. Then here her (the pose is from the concept art from The Princess and the Dressmaker) with Adeline, I’mma put her and that one Addy photo I did together very soon.

Here’s the references I used and copied in case anyone’s interested (I’m hoping it’s alright):

See the full post

17 notes - Posted December 28, 2022

Here are my final designs of @c-rose2081 kiddos, I love them so much, I’ll die 4 them ok!!! Fyi, this is my interpretation on what they would look like, it’s not canon and I’m so sorry it’s so rusty, I’ve been practicing. Most designs are based on concept art of Encanto:

Character notes and random hcs that are not true so you can just ignore me:

✨Bianca I saw as a bit of a girly tomboy with her messy braid with flower designs on her skirt, yes she look somewhat like a young Pepa but she isn’t 😅, her right leg is suppose to be lifted up but now I gave her a bit of a limp. Besides Mirabel she’s the big sister of the group! Her hearts big and she likes to take care of everyone when Mira isn’t there and she’s one of the stronger kids, being sporty as she plays soccer. There’s a 90% chance you’ll get punched if you sneak up behind her but she will apologize quickly, she’s plays in her skirts and dresses and does not mind getting messy, hence her blouse

✨Pablos I gave him bandages and cuts as he does get into fights and is quite reckless but is proud of them with people fearing him since it will protect his siblings, bullies (who teased them, mostly Bianca due to her limp and Adrianne for her vitiligo) now somewhat fear him, I added the bull patch on his jacket that he still wears alongside some dirt patterns and patches, besides his new clothes, he will still get them a bit ripped up and dirty with his tiny fishing knife.

✨Juan and Hernandez I gave them opposite colors from the wheel or in my case, both from Bash and Dash despite their personalities reminding me of Bill and Ben with them finishing each other sentences or arguing or just being together since they simply latched on to one another having a somewhat similar appearance , they happily consider each other to be twins and get along very well with Antonio.

✨Adrianne is a bit of a girly girl, I gave her vitiligo and like Pablos she has freckles, with fair hair of many shades in blonde but she’s very proud of who she is, mostly cause she’s confident thanks to her big sis Mirabel which is why people stopped messing with her as she will sass back (gives me Marie kitty vibes) besides her brother Pablos will fight them and very empathetic despite sounding stern about it she’s still a kid ok, I love her) so I gave her Isabela’s old concept art with the flower designs and color plus Isa’s old hairstyle

✨Elena is as quiet as a mouse for her age, with her dress color coming from AG Cecile/Addy Walker and also from Dolores with the different shades of red with the music notes even though you can really see it coming from something you can hear and I love the hc that Dolores hears Mariano sing and as a result can hum and softly sing to her, mostly lullabies and later Mariano does it for her, plus i said i wanted to give her afro-puffs, ruffles and bows, she’s a cutie

Either way, I love them all and I hope you like my rambles and art 😊

39 notes - Posted January 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Here are my interpretation of what @c-rose2081‘a children from their fic Guiding Light might look like. LET ME JUST SAY THEY ARE ALL ABSOLUTE CUTIES EVEN IF IT’S UP TO READERS INTERPETION ON WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE BUT I WILL DIE FOR THEM OK!!! I love them!! 😢☹️(❁´◡`❁)(●'◡'●)(❁´◡`❁)(┬┬﹏┬┬)╰(*°▽°*)╯

Highly recommend reading the story, it’s so beautiful 🤩. Just you’ll know the height difference is totally different cause I suck at that 🥲 I’ll fix it in the final design but they remind me a lot of my train kiddos, maybe they’ll be friends

* I imagined Elena in a dress to look like Dolores/Mariano fankid, I wouldn’t done her hair in afro puffs with bows which just left me 🥰✨ but I forget, maybe in the final design she has a blanket I would’ve done a toy 🧸 but I didn’t know what kind of animal

* For Juan and Hernandez, they remind me a lot of human ttte Bash/Dash and Bill/Ben designs so they are suppose to look like twins but also not really, Juan wears overalls with a striped diamonds shirt underneath while Hernandez wears striped suspenders and a shirt with u like designs on it, both wear scarves like Camilo’s concept art, with Hernandez being the more quieter, silent of the two

* Pablos is taller than them and the twins they‘re short ok, think Antonio height and I still see Pablos as the one who still get named up and be proud of his cuts, scraps and bruises, hence his rather raggard appearance even though he got new clothes but I forget his jacket but I’m figuring out the bull pose

* Adrianne looks up to Isabela so I imagined her like the village kids with braids to allude to Isa’s before she changed it with some flowers on her shirt and skirt

*Bianca is the second tallest and I know she looks like a young Pepa but she isn’t and doesn’t mind getting dirty and a bit sporty as well so I added that in the final design, she has curlier hair in a braid, she reminds me a lot of my human Molly design

✨ from skin tone I added some colored pencil but to a bit of imagination Elena is somewhere akin to Dolores/Mariano, Bianca’s is akin to Antonio/Felix/Alejandra, Adrianne I see as somewhat fair-skinned thanks to her hair being a fair color, maybe around Pepa/Cecilia the ‘twins’ are roughly the same except Juan has more freckles and wavy/curlier hair than Hernandez, who look like Antonio concept art, Pablos look somewhat like Camilo’s old concept art which is most of the inspiration alongside them trains gijinkas

But in all seriousness These characters belong to @c-rose2081 please check their tumblr out, they’re incredibly talented with many aus 🤩💖✨

44 notes - Posted January 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #tumblr review #tumblr year in review #ooh nice 😊#i take this very much thank you ☺️

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snowdice · 2 years

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Big Bang Editing Story [Day 98]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45

Hey! Guess who’s actually using this to edit again! We’ve actually come full circle since I’m participating in the Big Bang this year and will be using this to proofread that. Today I’m proof reading the Labeled Sequel though. :)

Also, my internet’s been meh today so if I disappear... you know why.

Chapter 46 (Patton)

Patton hadn’t been aware until Virgil came along what exactly Mr. Deknis did in the winter. Most of his staff had gone home or had winter tasks unrelated to gardening to do, but Mr. Deknis and a few choice members of his staff still apparently did a lot despite not being able to plant anything.

He frequently invited Virgil to join in on these tasks, and Virgil often accepted. Patton wasn’t sure why he seemed to enjoy things like deep cleaning gardening tools and checking over equipment, but he did, so Patton was glad.

“Alright, that’s enough of that for today,” Mr. Deknis said once Virgil finished brushing off the paste that had been applied to remove rust from a hoe.

“Are you sure?” Virgil asked. “I have more time to work. Even if you need to go, I can still work on something. Unless you don’t want me messing with things without supervision…”

“I’m not telling you to leave, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a half-smile. “I just thought you might want to help me out with something else today.”

“Oh, okay. Sure,” Virgil agreed, sounding just a touch excited.

“Let’s put all of this away,” Mr. Deknis said.

Virgil and Patton helped him put things away, though Patton felt more like a hindrance as both Mr. Deknis and Virgil seemed to know exactly where everything in the room went whereas Patton wasn’t sure about some things.

Patton didn’t always come with Virgil when he was helping Mr. Deknis. Sometimes Logan would come instead, and Virgil had been coming alone with increasing frequency over the last month or so.

He seemed to like it. He always seemed to look forward to spending time with Mr. Deknis and not only because Mr. Deknis often bribed him with snacks of dried or pickled fruits and vegetables.

Once the tools and cleaning equipment were stored away, Mr. Deknis led them down the hall. Mr. Deknis had an entire hall to himself on the first floor of the castle which included his bedroom as well as places to dry and can things.

Where he was leading them now was a small study next to his bedroom. Patton had never been there before and by the way Virgil was curiously looking around, neither had he. It was a cute little area with a small desk and a bookshelf full of books that seemed to all be on plants.

“I’m starting to think about what I want to grow in the gardens next year,” Mr. Deknis explained as they crammed into the small office. He pointed to a large piece of paper on his desk. “This is the plan at the moment, though it’s nowhere near finalized.”

He pointed at an empty square sketched on the large paper. “I was thinking I wanted to plant something new here, but I don’t know what. It’s just a small patch between the vegetable and flower garden. It’s sort of by the one three teared fountain. I usually use that patch for newer plants, so it could be a vegetable or a flower. I was thinking you could help me pick out something to put there.”

Virgil looked up at him, eyes wide.

Mr. Deknis smiled at him. “Would you like to?”

“I…” Virgil said. “I wouldn’t have any idea what to put.”

“Well, I have a few different books of plants you can flip through,” he said. “Any idea what kind of plant you’d like to grow?”

Virgil shrugged.

“I’ll just give you a few for now,” Mr. Deknis said, selecting three different books. “If you can’t find anything you like, just let me know and I’ll give you another book. There are plenty of different types of things to grow. This is just a start.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said, eyes staring down at the field of flowers drawn on the cover of the book on the top of the stack in his arms.

They spent the afternoon on the floor of Mr. Deknis’ living room. The gardener made them some lavender tea and let them eat some candied walnuts and then retreated to an armchair to read his own book about plants.

Patton and Virgil laid on the floor flipping through the different books. Virgil still wasn’t very good at reading, so Patton would read the descriptions of the plants that caught his eye to him. One of the books was about different vegetables and one was about herbs, which of course, did catch Virgil’s attention a bit because of his love for edible things. Yet the pictures of flowers seemed to interest him the most.

They ended up eventually looking only in the flower book. A while after that, it became clear that he preferred flowers in the orchid family verses composite flowers because he liked the shape of their petals better. So, then they focused more on looking at the different types of orchids that existed.

“There are a lot more types of orchids than I knew there were,” Patton said.

“It’s the second largest family of flowers,” Mr. Deknis told them from his chair. “There’s a lot of different kinds, over 28,000 species at least. Vanilla comes from an orchid plant. If there are none in that book you especially want, I could get a book specifically on orchids.”

Virgil, having already flipped through the book multiple times looking at the orchids in it, looked up at him with a bit of excitement in his eyes. “I would like that,” he said. “Yes, please.”

Mr. Deknis’ eyes softened on him, and he got to his feet. “I’ll go see what I have in the office.”

“Getting to grow something in the garden is exciting,” Patton said once Mr. Deknis left.

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. “It is.”

It was very nice of Mr. Deknis too, Patton thought. He didn’t have to offer to let Virgil plant something, in fact, him happening to have an empty patch in his plans was probably a little bit of a fib, but it was a nice one.

Virgil liked plants, and it would give him something to look forward to over the winter and then something to do in the spring and summer. Honestly, Patton couldn’t wait to see him experience the castle in the spring. He’d already loved it in the fall, let alone when things started to grow. Patton had a feeling he’d be spending a lot more time outside this summer.

Mr. Deknis came back with a good-sized book filled with pictures of flowers. “Why don’t you take this with you for tonight,” he suggested. “It’s almost dinner time. We can talk about it more when you come to help me again on Saturday.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said, taking the book. “I will see you Saturday then.”

“See you Saturday, Virgil,” he said with a smile.

Chapter 47 (Logan)

Logan and Virgil had gotten into the habit of having reading lessons in the afternoons 3 times a week. They would sit in the small library near the royal wing for an hour or two and do different things related to increasing Virgil’s literacy.

Logan had started with just teaching him letters, but he’d memorized those long ago at this point. Now, Logan would spend most of the time having him read simpler books out loud and correcting any mistakes he made along the way. Improvement was surprisingly fast, though in truth, Logan hadn’t had any measure for how long it would take a teenager to learn to read and Virgil was quite dedicated.

Usually, their lessons ended with Logan reading a more complicated book while letting him follow along. The last week, they had been reading the library book Virgil had chosen for himself, Into the Mist. It was an interesting book to read to Virgil, though Logan was unsure if it would be as interesting if he were to read it on his own. In truth, it was a good, but rather ordinary fantasy book. Virgil, however, seemed incredibly fascinated by it. He had never heard a high fantasy story before in his life and he was constantly comparing and contrasting things in the book to things he understood in real life as well as asking Logan about them.

It also became clear that Virgil did not quite understand real life fully. He attributed the same amount of awe to hearing the ocean being described as he did to the main character’s climb up the sky to a cloud city in hopes of saving his love interest’s life. In fact, he seemed more in awe of Logan’s explanation of the ocean since it actually existed.

Logan had a sudden intense urge to plan a trip to see an ocean at some point in the future. Lamir was a costal country and its castle sat on top of a cliff that overlooked the sea. It would be easy enough to take a trip to their ally’s country at some point.

“So, cloud mites don’t exist?” Virgil confirmed yet again.

“No,” Logan said. “They don’t. In fact, their existence would go against all magical laws since they are sentient without being alive.”

“But crabs do?” Virgil asked.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Crabs do not go against the natural order of things,” Logan said.

“But why?” Virgil asked.

“I… don’t understand the question.”

“They don’t have the right number of legs.”

“W-what do you mean by that?” Logan asked, confused.

“Animals can only have an even number of legs on either side.”

“No,” Logan said. Virgil nodded vigorously. “What about beetles? Those have 6 legs. Three on each side.”

“But beetles are bug,” Virgil pointed out.

“Bugs are animals,” Logan argued.

“No, they’re not.”

His face was so serious, and he was so sure, that it was funny. “Bugs are animals,” Logan said.

Virgil seemed confused by this. “But they have 6 legs.”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Virgil, what do you think and animal is?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Virgil said, pouting slightly at being laughed at. Logan leaned over to bump their shoulder together which seemed to pacify him. “Cows. Birds. Frogs.”

“I think we need to get you a tutor. You are missing some fundamental building blocks in your education.”

He huffed, peering at the book.

“It’s no fault of your own,” Logan assured. “You are not born with information like that. People were just negligent in teaching you these things.”

Virgil nodded. “That actually reminds me of something.”

“Mmm?” Logan asked.

“There’s something I need to teach you.”

“And what would that be?” Logan asked.

“Survival instincts.”

“What?”

Virgil slammed his hand down on Logan’s desk. “You have no survival instincts,” he declared. “I bet you don’t even know what hemlock tastes like.”

“Isn’t that poisonous.”

“Yes,” Virgil said.

“Then of course I don’t know what it tastes like.”

“Exactly! That’s the problem.”

“I don’t need to know what poison tastes like, Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes, you do,” Virgil argued. “It’s an important skill.”

“I think your view of what constitutes as an ‘important skill’ may be skewed,” Logan said.

“You’re a prince,” Virgil said. “Knowing about poisons is an important skill for you.”

“It’s really not though.”

“You’re at war,” Virgil reminded, “and they already tried to assassinate your father. Do you think they’re not going to send someone else when your father is alive at winter’s end, and they’ve heard no word from their assassin? Do you think if they realize you’re not easily manipulatable, they won’t come for you too?”

“Well, I mean…” Logan said. “You do have a point there.”

“And you need to learn how to climb things and catch things.”

“Why do I need to know how to catch things?”

“We’ve already had this discussion,” Virgil said. “In case someone throws a knife at you.”

Wait. When had they had that conversation?

“And while we’re on the topic of knives, you need to know how to use a knife effectively.”

“I know how to use a knife,” Logan claimed even though he knew he didn’t know how to use a knife in the way Virgil was talking about.

Virgil, despite having no concept of taxonomic classification, was no fool. “Chopping things for potions doesn’t count,” Virgil said. “I’m talking stabbing lessons. For you and Patton, though to be honest, Patton has an advantage already over you when it comes to using weapons.”

“Why does he…” Logan thought. “Because he managed to get a hit on you with a cookie sheet one time?”

“His reflexes are better,” Virgil said, “as well as his ability to use his environment to his advantage. You’re always completely oblivious about what’s going on around you.”

“Excuse me. I am incredibly observant,” said Logan.

“How many chairs are in the dinning room we walked through to get here two hours ago?” Virgil asked.

Logan thought for a moment. “I’m not sure.”

“Exactly! You walk by them every day and you don’t even know how many chairs there are in that room.”

“I have no idea what that has to do with anything.”

“How would you know if someone tampered with the chairs if you don’t know how many of them there are or their positions.”

“Tampered with the chairs?” Logan asked. “What are you talking about? I filter out unnecessary information. That doesn’t mean I’m unobservant.”

“Yes, it does,” Virgil said. “Plus, half the time you don’t even know where I am when you know I’m in the same room as you,” Virgil said.

“Well, that’s because you climb on top of things and hide in walls!” Logan said. “That’s hardly fair.”

“You mean I’m quiet and good at hiding like… an assassin might be.”

Logan pursed his lips. Virgil tilted his head and smiled at him. “I am plenty observant,” Logan insisted once again.

“Prove it,” Virgil said.

“And how should I do that?” Logan asked. “Beyond simply memorizing the furniture arrangements?”

Virgil shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll get an opportunity soon.”

Logan wished he would have been observant enough in that moment to notice the determined spark in his eyes.

Chapter 48 (Thomas)

Thomas was leaving his office when he ran into his son. Or more accurately, his son almost ran into him. “Is everything alright?” Thomas asked.

“I…” Logan said. His hand came out to grasp Thomas’s shirt sleeve, odd behavior for him at least at this age. He used to do such things when he was very small. “Yes,” he said anyway. “Everything is perfectly fine.” He glanced behind himself down the hall.

Thomas looked at him and then looked down the hallway, concerned by his strange behavior. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” Logan said, but he wasn’t letting go of Thomas’s shirt.

“You seem a bit anxious, Logan,” Thomas said.

“I am not,” Logan denied, releasing his shirt. Thomas caught a glimpse of something moving above their heads. The hallway Thomas’s office was in had large pillars along the outer wall that really no one should be able to scale despite there technically being grooves in them. Yet, there Virgil clung to the chapiter of one of them. Even more bewildering, he was gripping a pouch of some kind in his teeth.

They met eyes briefly. Virgil tilted his head at Thomas. Then, he removed one hand from the pillar. How was he up there? He made a motion with his hand that seemed to be telling Thomas to step back.

Thomas looked back at his son. Logan hadn’t noticed Virgil, too busy glancing behind him and not looking up. Thomas looked back up at Virgil and took a big step back. The moment he did, Virgil grabbed the bottom of the pouch with his free hand and let go with his teeth. The pouch flipped upside down dropping its contents right onto Logan’s head.

Logan gave a high-pitched shriek that Thomas didn’t think he’d ever heard from him before. “Virgil!” he yelled, now absolutely soaked.

“Learn to look up,” Virgil said seriously, still clinging to the pillar.

“I hate you,” Logan replied.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean in anger,” Thomas reminded. He was a bit worried Virgil may overreact to Logan saying things like that to him, though he seemed perfectly calm at the moment.

Logan scowled at Thomas. “You’re on his side?! He just dumped water on my head!”

“He needs to be trained to be more observant!” Virgil said.

Logan turned his scowl to Virgil. “Come down here, you intolerable creature! I’m done with your so-called training!”

“And what would you do if I did come down?” Virgil asked while arching an eyebrow, wholly unconcerned. “Quote facts about animals at me?”

Thomas was unsure what about that comment angered Logan, but it apparently did.

“You little…”

“Boys,” Thomas interrupted. “What’s going on here?”

They both immediately started speaking at once, doing their best to talk over each other. Thomas didn’t catch much of either rants except something about ‘training’ and Virgil ‘stalking the halls’ and an “exploding muffin.”

“Okay, okay,” Thomas said, putting a hand up to tell both of them to be quiet. “One at a time. Virgil first.”

“Really?” Logan asked.

“Logan,” Thomas scolded.

He mumbled something under his breath, but he did quiet down.

“Virgil,” Thomas started again. “What’s going on?”

“I’m training him,” Virgil said.

“Training him?” Thomas asked. “Training him for what?”

“For life,” Virgil answered. “He isn’t observant enough.”

“Ah,” Thomas said, still fairly confused. “And how are you training him?”

“Right now, we’re doing situational awareness training,” Virgil said.

“And how does that translate to you dumping water on his head?” Thomas asked.

“He wouldn’t have gotten water on his head if he’d noticed me,” Virgil answered, seriously. Thomas tried not to laugh at the look on his face.

“That is, perhaps true,” Thomas said. “However, dumping water on people’s heads is not nice. Perhaps there is a nicer way to do this training?”

“People trying to kill them won’t be nice,” Virgil said.

“No one is trying to kill Logan,” Thomas said.

Virgil just pursed his lips. “Maybe,” Virgil said. “Not yet.”

Thomas was unsure where this fear had come from. Perhaps he had heard about the successful assassination of Lamir’s late queen. Thomas hadn’t exactly publicized the fact that the queen had been killed and not simply died when he’d returned, but he had told certain people including Logan and Patton. It was possible one of them had let it slip and Virgil had freaked out about it.

“Well,” Thomas said. “It still isn’t nice to ruin someone’s day over a threat that doesn’t exist yet.”

Virgil just huffed at him. He was being surprisingly petulant which actually made Thomas smile just a tad. He’d not even been able to imagine this side of him a month ago. “Why don’t you come down here?” Thomas suggested. “We can talk through the issue and come to a compromise.”

Virgil stared down at him with skeptical eyes.

“Perhaps with tea and cookies?” Thomas suggested.

Virgil tilted his head and slid down the pillar until his feet touched the floor. “What kind of cookies?” he asked.

“We’ll have to see what Helen has made lately,” Thomas said. He turned to Logan and frowned. “You should probably change before you get sick being wet and in the cold.”

Logan nodded and shivered a little bit while rubbing his own arms. Despite the castle being warm, it was no fun to be completely soaked during the winter. Thomas wasn’t even sure if Virgil would have thought to not use freezing cold water. Even with heating elements, the water in the castle could be very cold if you didn’t wait for a bit for it to warm up. Thomas didn’t think Virgil would have thought too far ahead in this ‘training.’

“I’ll take Virgil down to the kitchen and get some tea and cookies for all of us,” Thomas told Logan.

He gave his son a look trying to communicate ‘I’ll talk to him.’ Logan pursed his lips, but nodded, seeming to receive the message.

“Why don’t we meet you in the royal dining room, so the conversation is more private?” Thomas suggested. It would be a much calmer environment than the main dining hall or the kitchens.

“Sure,” Logan agreed, turning to walk off in the direction of the royal wing. The poor thing was huddled in on himself and cold.

Thomas looked over at Virgil and smiled at him softly as Logan left. “Let’s go see what cookies Helen has ready,” he suggested.

Chapter 49 (Virgil)

“So,” King Thomas said as they walked through the halls towards the kitchens. The path to the kitchens from pretty much anywhere in the castle was familiar to Virgil now. Food was abundant in this place and there were no restrictions on Virgil eating it. There were no restrictions on anyone in the castle eating it, unless you counted Patton’s mother insisting people eat a more varied diet than only cookies. Personally, while Virgil did like cookies, he had no complaints over that matter. “You and Logan seem to be having a disagreement,” Thomas continued.

“I’m right,” Virgil insisted, and he was.

However, explaining why Virgil was right to the king was a bit difficult when Virgil was hiding why he knew Logan developing survival instincts was important. It was clear that Virgil did not get his point across correctly because the king laughed slightly.

“Everyone believes they are right during a disagreement,” Thomas said. “I’m sure Logan has his own ideas about who is correct.”

Virgil frowned at him. “I am.”

“Perhaps you are both right,” the king suggested.

“But…”

“You cannot dump water on people’s heads in the castle hallways, Virgil,” the king scolded, but it was a gentle scolding and Virgil forced himself to not climb the wall and disappear. He had a point to make. “Especially not in the winter.”

“He’s the prince,” Virgil argued. “He needs to know how to protect himself in case of danger.”

“That is true,” Thomas conceded. “You are probably correct that we should be making sure the royal family is well protected and can protect themselves. We have been safe for a long time, but there is always a risk.” He seemed contemplative for a moment. “However,” he continued. “The way you are going about it is not correct in my opinion. Clearly, it is not in Logan’s opinion as well.”

“But…”

“You risk making more problems than solving with your strategy,” the king said.

“Like what?” Virgil asked.

“Well,” Thomas said. “Getting someone wet when it’s cold is never a good idea even inside a castle.” Virgil… could agree with that. “You also could accidently ruin something important by getting water on it if you don’t give warning. Even if you are doing something besides pouring water on his head, if you continue to do things to ‘train’ Logan in the same vein, he is likely to become more paranoid than vigilant.”

“What’s the difference?” Virgil asked.

“Being vigilant means you are prepared for danger around every corner. Being paranoid means you are expecting danger around every corner.”

“There doesn’t seem like there’s much of a difference,” Virgil said.

“There is,” said the king, as they pushed through a set of double doors. “Take any of the royal guards,” he gestured subtly at the two people guarding the room to the hall they’d just come from. “If a guard is constantly worried that every little sound is a danger and every new person is an enemy, they will waste all of their energy and time chasing down stray rodents and interrogating maids that decided to walk a different path to their destinations. When real danger does appear, they may be too worn out or distracted to react.”

“However, if the guards are calm and instead of instantly overreacting to every small thing, they make a note of it in case it ends up being something they need to react to later, then they will be prepared to act if there are any actual threats.”

Virgil bit his tongue to stop from mentioning that he’d managed to sneak by the guards to the royal wing the first night he was here. A boy with a cookie sheet had done more against him that King Thomas’s guards.

“That’s why I make sure everyone who works for the castle, especially the guards have not only time off to sleep and eat, but time off for leisure where they are not expected to be hypervigilant.”

“All people need to have a time and place to feel safe, even the ones whose jobs it is to keep others safe. Logan’s job is not the same as the guards who keep the people in this castle physically safe, but he is training to be king. He needs time to perform his duties and to relax between them. Harassing him all day with survival training is not going to help him.”

“People don’t need to feel safe,” Virgil argued. “They need to be safe.”

The king stopped walking and turned to him. Virgil couldn’t help but cringe a bit as the king studied him.

“You haven’t had a chance to feel safe very often in your life, have you?” the king asked.

Virgil shrugged, looking away.

“What would make you feel safe?” Thomas asked.

“Logan being safe,” Virgil said.

“Logan is safe, Virgil,” the king tried to argue.

Virgil scowled. “I don’t trust your guards. Even the best guard won’t be able to help if Logan gets trapped alone with someone. He needs to learn self-defense.”

“Well, I’m already planning to up security in the castle when spring comes. Would me asking if he’d be willing to do self-defense training with someone help?”

He thought about it for a few moments. “Maybe,” he said, lips pursed, “but what if the person you get to teach him isn’t any good at it?” Honestly, Virgil wasn’t sure if he could trust anyone in this entire kingdom to do proper training.

Then again… Prijaznia had been holding its own against Mocnejsi for… Virgil didn’t actually know how long. He just knew that he’d always remembered there being a war going on between them for his entire life. And… while no one had ever actually said it out loud, Prijaznia was probably winning. It’s why Mocnejsi was going for things like assassinations and tricks instead of normal warfare.

Not to mention Prijaznia was less… war torn. Sure, he’d been living in the castle recently, but even in his travel to the castle, people seemed to be a bit better off.

So, maybe there were some people in the kingdom who knew what they were doing when fighting. However, Virgil wasn’t going to trust the king to pick out who should train Logan.

“I’m sure we can find someone who is up to your standards,” the king said, though the curl to his lip seemed to indicate he wasn’t taking Virgil seriously. Of course, as far as he knew, Virgil was just a random kid his friend had befriended, so that was probably fair.

73711

It was a bit frustrating to not be able to tell Logan’s dad why Virgil was worried or how he knew how to help, but Virgil wouldn’t dare give him even the slightest hint of the truth. He respected the king. He was starting to like the king. Yet, Virgil was not a fool.

The king obviously misinterpreted the disgruntled expression on his face. “Maybe you can also do some of your training,” he said, “but there has to be compromise. You and Logan need to talk about it without fighting before anything goes any further. I can mediate. We’ll talk about what things might be okay and what things are off limits.”

“Okay,” Virgil said, still not happy, but knowing there wasn’t much else he could do.

“Okay,” the king agreed. They were now at the door to the kitchens “Now, let’s get those cookies.”

Chapter 50 (Patton)

Patton was starting to get excited. There had been a small snow storm a couple of weeks before, but since then, the temperature had been on the rise with no sign of more snow on the horizon. It was still a bit chilly, but Patton only really felt the need for a light coat instead of any more extreme winter wear. It was great!

Usually everyone including Patton was relieved as Winter turned to Spring, but this year, Patton had even more of a reason to be happy about it. Virgil had gotten a tiny bit more comfortable going outside over the winter, but he still didn’t like it too much.

Patton could almost feel the change in him as the warmer months drew nearer like a flower getting ready to bloom. He was happier and more energetic. Mr. Deknis was getting things ready to start planting as soon as his seasonal workers started to arrive in the coming weeks. In the meantime, Virgil helped him get ready with a lot of enthusiasm.

It was probably the warmest it had been today. It wasn’t nearly summer, but Patton wouldn’t call it cold. So, while Logan was off doing princely duties in the afternoon, Patton decided to test if it was warm enough now for Virgil to willingly go outside.

Patton found Virgil in Mr. Deknis’s rooms a couple of hours after lunch, figuring he’d be done with whatever task they were doing that day by then. Patton ended up being correct as when Mr. Deknis let him into his living room, Virgil was busy flipping through yet another book of orchids, still trying to decide which he wanted to grow.

“Hi, Virgil,” Patton said, walking into the room with Princess Marisol on his heels. She had been lazing in a sunny spot by a nearby window but had gotten up to follow him as he walked by.

“Hi,” Virgil replied. He closed the book and set it aside.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dovecote with me,” Patton said. “I wanted to send a letter.”

Virgil thought about it for a moment, and Patton would swear he was using some secret weather sensing mechanism in his head to check the weather before saying, “Okay.”

“If you two are going to the dovecote, would you mind taking a letter for me as well?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Of course,” Patton agreed.

Mr. Deknis turned to grab a sealed letter off his desk. “It’s for my daughter,” Mr. Deknis said. “The handlers should know the right pigeon to give it to.”

Patton nodded and took it.

“You have a daughter?” Virgil asked, sounding more surprised than Patton would have expected.

“Yes, Darlene,” Mr. Deknis said. “I’ve talked about her. I thought I’d mentioned she was my daughter.”

“I didn’t know you could have children.”

The statement clearly rang with truth to Mr. Deknis’s ears, but it didn’t make him look any less confused. “Why would you think that?” he asked.

Patton’s eyes widened as he recalled a conversation from months ago where Virgil had been confused about why Mr. Deknis was allowed to be a gardener when he was a multrum. Patton didn’t know much about how multrums were treated in Mocnejsi, but it hadn’t sounded very nice and Patton could draw some conclusions about why Virgil thought that. The problem of course was that Patton was pretty sure very few people in Prijaznia would be confused about Mr. Deknis being allowed to have a kid.

“You’re old,” Patton blurted before Virgil could say anything more. “Old people can’t have kids.”

These things were not technically lies. Mr. Deknis still looked at him like he’d just sensed Patton saying one though. He frowned and his eyes narrowed a bit. Patton had… never been as good at running around Mr. Deknis’s powers as Logan was.

“Patton,” Mr. Deknis said. “What?”

“You have to forgive Virgil,” Patton said, grabbing Virgil’s arm and tugging on it. Luckily, Virgil followed easily enough. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know how babies are made.”

“That isn’t an argument, Patton.”

“Anyway, we have to go,” Patton said.

Patton pulled Virgil out of Mr. Deknis’s living room and into the hallway. He slammed the door behind them. “Run,” said Patton to Virgil. They ran.

Luckily, Patton was right. Mr. Deknis was old and didn’t seem keen to chase them. However, Patton expected that the conversation was nowhere near over. This, even if it made their behavior even more suspicious, would give Patton time to think of something or, more realistically, talk to Logan and get him to think of something.

The ended up all the way outside the stable before the stopped. Virgil, while fast, was not a distance runner and Patton wasn’t exactly athletic, so they collapsed in an exhausted heap.

“Why did we run?” Virgil asked after a few minutes of rest.

“People from Prijaznia wouldn’t question why a multrum can have a child,” Patton said. “They’re just normal people with some powers. If we’re not careful, he could have figured out you weren’t from here.”

Virgil grimaced. “That’s not good,” he said.

“It’ll be alright,” Patton promised. “We just need to ask Logan what to say. He’s always better at talking circles around Mr. Deknis.”

“He’s in a meeting right now though.”

“Yeah,” Patton said, “but that just means we have to be sneaking for a couple of hours.”

Always one to make something fun out of a not so great situation, Patton glanced over at Virgil. “You’re pretty good at sneaking,” he said. “Why don’t you teach me something about sneaking by helping me sneak into the dovecote.”

“You want to do training?” Virgil asked.

Patton hesitated, having heard about ‘training’ from Logan. “Uh, only this type of training,” Patton said, “and only for this afternoon until we have a chance to talk to Logan.”

“The king told me I could train people if they gave me permission.”

Oh dear.

He seemed invigorated suddenly and popped to his feet even though Patton really would have rather rested for a bit more.

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crtter · 3 years

Note

Well the long nose in mettaton’s proto designs could be the initial inspiration from Bob Sparker which then may got transferred to Spamton instead

Yeah!!! I went on a little about it on the tags of the original post I reblogged but I truly do think that Toby Fox wanted to go full homage to Bob Sparker with Mettaton and Mettaton only but then decided to split some of his characteristics between Mettaton and Spamton! He did mention once (I forget where) that Spamton was the first Deltarune character he designed, which I guess explains why that very early sketch of him showed up in the Undertale artbook.

I find this pretty heartwarming actually… Toby Fox had this little guy in store for us from the very beginning, heh. I hope he’s pleased with how many people like him!

#answers #anonymous #deltarune #spamton #undertale #Mettaton

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loveofafangirl · 3 years

Text

In the Quiet

[Laszlo Kreizler Masterlist]

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Reader (no gender, race, or body type given)* *reader is an aristocrat who has aspirations of being an artist

Synopsis: You and Laszlo spend a quiet moment together while you reflect on how you met. *Fluff* Meet-Cute*

Word Count: ~1,250

A/N: This is my first time writing Laszlo. I hope you enjoy it!

Your fingers weave through his silky hair, his head resting in your lap as the two of you recline on a picnic blanket. The soft melody of the babbling brook beside you is amplified by the quiet stillness surrounding you. The warm breeze off of the water tousles your hair and tickles your features. The occasional bird chirps a melody just for the two of you.

You breathe easier away from the city. You know he does as well, even though he thrives in the unruly environment. He needs this break, away from the darkness and melancholy that he lets consume him. Here, he can find peace without distraction. Of course, it wasn't easy. Each small town had its own history, and with it, its own tragic stories to analyze.

Laszlo saw the potential for psychopathy everywhere. His mind raced with ideas of what might be, and more importantly, why. He had a thirst for knowledge and understanding, unlike anyone you had ever known—one that could not easily be quenched. There was always more: more to learn, more to observe, more to understand.

You found that Laszlo appreciated the subtle details often overlooked by others. You were the same in that way. It was what had brought you together—the details—just, not the same ones. Where he saw despair and pain, you saw the possibility of hope and promise.

"What do you see?" His confident voice questions behind you.

Your body tenses at the intrusion. You were so focused on your work you hadn't noticed his appearance.

"Sir?" Your gaze settles on the curious man, now standing beside you. You observe how his hands rest casually on his walking stick before him, but his focus is not on you, rather your subject.

"Please, pray tell me if you would, what is it that you observe." He gestures to the woman on the bench across the path that you had been drawing.

You run your charcoal-covered fingers nervously over the cloth you had beside you. His polished appearance reminded you how your current state reflected poorly on your status. It was why you had come to this park, away from the aristocracy uptown, away from those that told you art was a skill to possess but not suitable for more than a mere hobby to entertain and impress those of importance.

Your already straight spine lengthens as you attempt to reclaim your station. Your gaze shifts between the woman and your canvas. "I see loss."

"Very astute." He interrupts the rest of your thoughts. "I observe the same. I surmise the young woman has suffered a great deal. The loss of a child, perchance."

"A husband," you correct, quite confidently. The look on his face tells you he is not used to being challenged. You turn your drawing toward him, pointing out the simple metal ring the woman held in her hand. It was no longer visible at present, but you had captured it earlier as she turned it between her fingers.

"You have a tremendous eye for detail." He offers with a raise of his brow and a simple nod, impressed with your deduction. "May I?"

He takes the seat beside you, and you hand him your portrait. He carefully accepts it and studies it more closely. His gaze shifts between the drawing and the subject, "It is very good. Howbeit, might I still offer a suggestion?"

"If you wish." You nod anxiously, your fingers twisting the cloth in your hands. You knew accepting feedback from strangers was something you would have to learn to endure if you wanted to show your work at a gallery one day. You just hadn't expected it so soon.

He hands the portrait back to you. "The eyes—they're not quite correct."

The corners of your lip pull up, certain you had been careful in your interpretation. "They are," you insist. "Or, they will be."

His lips press together, and his head shifts to the sides in contemplation, not quite understanding your meaning.

"Life is filled with consequences: some good, many bad." You grab a stick of charcoal and continue sketching. You no longer felt unsettled by his presence; in fact, you felt a boost in your confidence. He seemed genuinely interested in how you perceived the world. You did not feel any judgment on his part for your enjoyment of this work. "This woman may have suffered, yet she presses on. She sits in the quiet here instead of satisfying her pain in weeping or, perhaps, indulging in less savory means. She has hope. I saw just a glimmer of it earlier as the scent of the blossoms in the breeze caught her attention, pulling her momentarily from the melancholy. Although finite, the spark will grow until she is whole. That is what I chose to capture."

"The loss of another—a paramour—is not so easily overcome." His voice is more distant now, heavier. You sense he speaks from experience.

"Nothing worthwhile is easy, good Sir. However, in time, perspectives can change as long as one holds onto hope."

"Perhaps."

The soft sounds of your charcoal etching across the canvas fill the comfortable quiet that settles between the two of you.

Your fingers brush the strands of chocolate hair off of his forehead, as you press your soft lips to his skin. You could never have imagined how that chance meeting would change your life. You chew your lower lip as you pull away.

His warm brown eyes meet yours. His mouth opens to speak but closes, leaving only a warm smile in reply to your touch.

You scratch lightly over his lush beard, savoring the coarse texture against the pads of your fingertips. Your own smile spreads as your gazes lock together.

This was good for him. He needed this break in the country as much as you did. It had become somewhat of a retreat for you. Your family was not thrilled with your choice of partner. Despite his status and education, as an Alienist, he was considered a less than ideal match. Your parents had even offered to support your wild pursuits to become an artist to dissuade your interest in him, but it was too late. Neither of you cared much what others thought about your pairing. The world was changing, and so were you. You and Laszlo would press forward carving a path that fit your ideals, not that of the masses.

The two of you needed each other more than you could have realized. You needed his understanding, disregard for conventions, and the way he challenged you in ways society could not. He needed your kindness, generosity, but most of all, light.

The details had brought you together, but it was in these quiet moments when the two of you could just be that your love blossomed. It was where your relationship developed and spoke louder than words ever could.

Laszlo captures your hand in his good one and brings it to his lips, brushing feathery kisses on your skin. Your eyes close, relishing his tender affection. It wasn't often you had him all to yourself, so you treasured moments like this.

Your free hand continues stroking gently through his hair, letting him rest in your care. The glow of the sun bathes you in its warmth as the gentle breeze wraps you in its comfort. You stay nestled together, just the two of you, in the quiet, letting your adoration speak for itself.

A/N#2: Thank you so much for reading! I'm not sure how often I will write Kreizler, but if you liked this and are interested in more, please like, comment, and/or reblog. I truly appreciate every interaction. Also, if you'd like to be tagged in future fics, let me know.

#laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #the alienist #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #kreizler #dr kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x you #the alienist fan fiction #laszlo kreizler fan fiction

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

On the run

Authors note - this is a series of closly related one shots hence tagged as soft!reader. This is for Ambers challenge! Hope you like it! This is like there was only one room instead of there was only one bed.

Please do not steal or repost my works on any other site. Reblogs are welcome.

Run through - You have to go on the run with your husband and share a room with Bucky.

Warnings - smut, daddy kink, voyeurism (fucking right next to Bucky lol), cockwarming, angst

Pairing - Steve Rogers x soft!reader

Word count - 3.3k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You paced back and forth in your living room. It wasn’t exactly yours but it had been your home for the past four years. Your floor to ceiling windows gave you an extensive and broad view of new York City. You were on the highest floor of the tower, it made the huge city seem so city. Usually the lights soothed you whenever you were anxious. But you weren’t sure if you had ever been so scared. Scared for your husbands life, scared for your future.

Steve had broke the law. Your Steve, the Captain America. It was so ironic. He was declared a terrorist and a wanted man. You felt as if this was a fever dream. Never in a million years did you think something like this would happen.

From what you knew Steve refused to sign the accords. Which you understood, he had his reasons and they were completely valid. You hoped the team would work it out amongst themselves and come to a compromise somehow. But from the looks of it, that will never happen. No one really asked for your opinion. Even if you were like family to them, at the end of the day you were a simple accountant turned stay at home wife. A job you had to give up to be with your Steve. When it got too dangerous for you to go out in the world. You hoped maybe just maybe, Steve would do the same for you. He talked of retiring, becoming a high school professor or working on his art. And like an idiot you let yourself indulge in that fantasy and got sweeped away.

Your life wasn’t bad by any means, in fact it was too perfect. Your friends were often envious of your perfect marriage and your dutiful husband. But you wanted more for Steve. You wanted him to slow down a bit, enjoy life, to not wake up screaming in the middle of the night in a pool of his own sweat and tears. You loved all of him, but you loved him the most when he was happy. Being an Avenger took a huge toll on him. You just wanted him to be happy.

You were being ‘escorted’ to the interrogation room. You had only been there once, to see Steve. You never thought you would be the one being interrogated.

You couldn’t help but feel resentful. You were in this grey room, under the harsh fluorescent lights, being asked all sort of intrusive questions as if you were a criminal, because of him. You gave up everything for him. You completely gave yourself to him. You didn’t have much left.

“Are you sure?” The man in the black suit asked again.

“Yes I’m sure! I think I would remember if my husband contacted me” you snapped.

“Alright. Please calm down ma'am” He said and you rolled your eyes at his patronising tone “You can leave for now but you’re not allowed to leave the premises. Let us know as soon as Rogers contacts you. If you don’t you will be an accomplice to his crimes”

His words echoed in your head on the way to ‘your' apartment. You sat back on your couch ready to drown your worries and your sorrows in some wine. The portrait Steve painted of you in a short white sundress, playing with some birds like a Disney Princess, hung on your wall almost taunting you. It was all superficial wasn’t it?

All the gifts he gave you, all the sketches he made of you. Every time he held the door open for you or tenderly made love to you, looking into your eyes and staring deep into your soul. Did all of that really matter? If he didn’t consider you or your relationship while doing something as brash as – you didn’t even know what he did. His duty won over his love for you. It always would.

You should’ve known. Your mother warned you. Told you you’re not the kind of person that would be fine with being the second or even fifth priority. Too possessive, too loving. People like you only ever get their hearts broken.

What did the future hold for you? You knew Steve, or at least you thought you did. You knew he wouldn’t help a war criminal. A terrorist. Sure said terrorist was Steve’s friend, but Steve was the kind of person that held others accountable. But at the end of the day Steve was just a human and a softie. You could see him being so loyal and going till the end of the line for his buddy.

You hummed as you felt a hand caressing your cheek. The feeling of his calloused fingers felt so familiar. It was a nice dream, an escape from this dystopian reality. You’d like to live in it forever but then your eyes snapped open as you heard him call out your name.

You sat up quickly sat up straight “Steve” you blurted out as you looked at your husband. In a dark blue, red, and white which was dirty enough to be black, suit. His short blond hair a bit frizzy, his left cheek blue and purple, unlike the neat and tidy look he usually sports. You looked into his eyes, which looked so tired and exhausted.

“We have to get out of here right now” He said gravely. But then his face softened. “It’s not safe here for you doll. I can’t leave you here, where I won’t be able to protect you” he said cupping your face with his hands.

You should have asked him a million questions. If what they were saying was true. Did he really help a terrorist? Attack his friends, whom you considered your family. But you didn’t. You simply crashed your lips upon his, taking his breathe away. It was soft, sweet but needy. Just like most of your reunion kisses. “I’ll follow you anywhere Steve” You said pulling away and looking into his sky blue eyes.

He gave your forehead a soft kiss before pulling you up. Telling you to collect your things as quickly as you can. You changed into a pair of jeans and sweatshirt, packing a few more t-shirts and pants.

“Hurry up doll we don’t have long” he urged you.

You made your way out of the apartment. You were walking to the elevator thinking you would be going down on it. “No, y/n we have to take the stairs. Come on” he took your hand.

He lead you to the emergency exit, one you didn’t even know existed. He was always good at reading and remembering maps. You smiled thinking of the time he easily got you both out of a very complicated Halloween maze.

“Steve why are we going upstairs?” You asked panting and trying your best to keep up with his face. You weren’t blessed with the super serum, you weren’t a huge fan of working out either.

“We have to take the jet and leave the country” He said rubbing your back. After a few seconds he hauled you over his shoulder “Hold on” He said sprinting up the stairs.

“Wouldn’t they notice us leaving in a literal quinjet?” You asked “What happens if you get caught Steve? What will they do to you?”

“Don’t worry about that right now” You wanted to laugh. Not worry? You were literally fleeing the country. How could you not worry.

You finally made it to the terrace, shivering in Steves hold against the chilly air Steve set you down in the jet. Before working on the kinks to get it started.

Surprisingly you made it out without anyone following you but you held your breathe. Not letting your guard down until you knew you were completely safe. As soon as you were in the air Steve put the jet on stealth mode. Finally letting his back rest against his chair and letting out a deep sigh.

“Steve” you couldn’t help the quiver in your voice trying your best to hold in your tears. “what is going on? Is it true? What they were saying?”

“What were they saying?” he said quirking a brow at you.

“That you helped a terrorist and you’re like a... war criminal now” you struggled to get the words out. Uncomfortable to even think such a thing could happen.

“You really think I could do something like that” He rested his elbows on the arms of his seat staring you down.

“I don’t. That’s why I’m here. But I have a right to know what happened”

His brows remained furrowed, as if he didn’t believe you. You had no idea how he managed to turn the whole conversation around and put you on the spot. “It’s Bucky” He said, his hard face softening.

Bucky, his best friend. Steve had carried the guilt of his death on his shoulders for years. Which only got worse when he found out that Bucky was indeed alive, being used as a weapon by hydra. “They tried to frame him. He didn’t do anything wrong. He’s been suffering for years”

You briskly got up from your seat as you saw the tears escape his eyes. You were selfish. Only caring about how this whole ordeal was affecting you. You couldn’t even imagine what Steve must have gone through. You sat on his lap, hugging him close to you as he held onto you so tightly, as if you would disappear if he didn’t. “Promise me you’ll never leave me” he choked out against the crook of your neck.

You ran your fingers through his hair lightly scratching his head with your nails, in the way you knew he liked. “I would never leave you Steve. I promise”

Over five hours later you made it to Moldova. A small country in eastern Europe. Steve hid the jet, saying he would need it later, since he had to come up with a plan to rescue your friends. Which would be much harder than rescuing you, they were in a maximum security prison, in the middle of a freaking ocean.

You tried your best to not think about that when you were on your way to a motel. You were nervous to meet Bucky, who Steve said would be there with you. You had never met any of Steve’s family. Since well they were dead. Back when you started dating he wasn’t really friends with his coworkers, so you never really received ‘the shovel talk' from them.

This was nerve wracking. What if he thought you weren’t worthy of Steve? Bucky was the only link to Steve’s past, his oldest friend, surely his opinion would mean the world to Steve.

“Hey it’ll be okay” Steve said squeezing your thigh from the drivers seat, something he liked to do whenever you both drove together. “I would never let anything happen to you. You know that right?” He looked at you before looking back at the icy roads.

“It’s not that. I know you’ll keep me safe Stevie. If nothing else I believe in that” You said as he gave you a small smile “this is all just overwhelming you know? I mean would we ever get to go back?” You asked although you knew neither of you knew the answer. “and then there’s Bucky”

“What about Bucky?” he asked.

“What if... he doesn’t like me? I know it’s silly!” You whined before he could make a snarky comment “We have other things to worry about and whatever but I want to make a good impression. Is there something I should remember not to do? Or to do?” You scrunched your nose at your strange question and this stranger reality. Where you get to meet your husbands best friend at the worst timing.

“Uh...” He contemplated your words for a minute “Well don’t hug him. I know you like to do that” he let out a laugh at just how sweet and likeable you are and how Bucky would love you the second he lays his eyes on you “Don’t worry sweetheart. Bucky’s the last thing you have to worry about. You wouldn’t have to even try to get him to like you”

You finally parked at the motel. Ever the gentleman, Steve held the door open for you holding your hand as you made your way up the shaky stairs. Steve knocked three times on the door before the tall brunette whom you recognised as Bucky from all his old pictures opened the door. He let you both in. You took off your coat the room wasn’t as warm as you’d like but it was definitely better than the harsh cold outside.

You watched as Steve embraced Bucky in a hug asking him how he was doing. You tried not to let your gaze linger too long on him, but you couldn’t help but admire him. He was a few inches shorter than Steve, but he had the same alert soldiery stance as Steve and the similar Brooklyn accent. Not to mention he was one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. He definitely looked more aged and somehow different than in the photos.

Steve introduced you “This is my wife” He said and Bucky gave you a small smile.

“This punk couldn’t stop talking about you” He said grabbing Steve by the back of his neck.

You were happy to see that even if they both had changed over time, their friendship and bond remained the same. “Good things I hope” You playfully squint your eyes at Steve.

“I’d never say anything bad about you doll” He walked towards you kissing your forehead and putting the backpack you packed on the bed. “You must be tired, you wanna go to bed?” He sat down on the bed cracking his neck, the stress of the last few days getting to him.

You finally had a chance to look around the room. It was what you’d expect from a shady motel. White floors which were now almost yellow, torn wallpaper and an old television. But then you looked at the twin beds. Looks like you’ll have to share one with Steve. You hoped he would be able to get proper sleep, with how tired he looked he really needed it. “I’m tired?” you teased him.

After freshening up and changing into your night clothes, you settled on the bed, sighing in relief as your sore back touched the hard mattress. Out of the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of Bucky settling in on his bed beside you and his metal hand peeking out of his long sleeved shirt. You wondered what it looked it, did it hurt him? How was he able to move it so naturally as if it’s a part of his body? You really had to bite your tongue to not let your curiosity get the best of you.

“This will have to do for tonight sweetheart” Steve said spooning you from behind and pulling you into him. You sighed out as you felt his bare and warm chest through your tank top. You wouldn’t have to worry about being chilly. Bucky turned to lay on his side away from the both of you.

You hummed as Steve snaked a hand past your tank top and resting it on your soft tummy. Drawing small random patterns on it. Bucky turned off the lights, it wasn’t completely dark, there was plenty of moonlight coming through the window. You insisted on helping Steve out of his steath suit, so you could check in on his wounds and treat them, it was a post mission ritual for you both. But Steve refused to let you in as he changed in the bathroom alone. You feared that his wounds were worse than he was letting on.

“I missed you princess” he whispered in your hair, snapping out of your thoughts. “did you miss me?”

Bucky was snoring and seemed to be in a deep slumber but just to be safe you kept your voice low “I did” You said wiggling your ass against his crotch. You weren’t surprised to find his pretty hard erection there.

“Yeah?” He smirked ghosting his fingers at the elastic of your shorts “how much” before he could dip his fingers your hands stopped him

“Not now” you whispered harshly “Bucky is sleeping right there” you scolded. How he could even think about sex right now you had no idea. You would be mortified if you Bucky woke up to find you both in the middle of it.

“We’ll just be quiet” He said slipping his fingers past your shorts and panties and between your thighs. You wanted to stop him. You really did. But you realised just how much you missed him when he brushed his fingers against your warm folds.

“I can’t be quiet! You know that” You whined as he dipped his finger in your heat. You had no idea what had gotten into him. He loved making you moan, scream and cry. Did he want Bucky to hear you both make love? Steve was more perverted than he let on but this was something even you didn’t know.

“You will try for me won’t you?” He rolled your clit between his fingers and kissed your temple to sooth your thrashing “don’t you wanna be a good girl for me? Hm?” he asked driving three of his fingers inside of you to warm you up.

You should be embarrassed at the sinful noises that your cunt was making, you could hear them clearly since you had to be quiet. But you weren’t. In the moment you just needed to cum. “I wanna cum daddy please” Your voice muffled against the pillow you had pushed your face into to drown out your moans.

“Then cum doll” he said thrusting his fingers into you with purpose.

“I wanna cum on your cock daddy” He groaned at that.

Pulling his fingers out of you. He pulled your panties and your shorts down, bringing the blankets up to your neck “You comfy princess?” You nodded. He pulled his cock out of his sweats nudging it between your buttcheeks. He pulled your bare leg placing it over his hip and holding it there as he slowly pushed into you. He pushed his other hand under you to hold onto and fondle your breasts.

In any other situation this position would be uncomfortable but right now you felt as warm and safe to be surrounded by him. You didn’t feel the need to cum anymore, content with the warmth and the weight of his cock inside you. His steady breathing and heart beat lulling you to sleep.

He didn’t like that. He snapped his hips and pushed his cock deeper inside you. “Don’t fall asleep on me now princess” He warned as he slowly fucked into you.

You dug your nails into his hand which was squeezing your breast as you tried your best to contain your moans. You let out a mewl as Steve stroked your clit while making slow love to you. You were tipped over the edge, cuming hard around his cock and on his fingers.

“Shit” He said as the pace of his thrusts increased “you’re so tight doll. So snug” He bit your ear to keep from groaning out loud. He was about to pull out of you, to clean you up with a washcloth. He wouldn’t trust the towels the hotels provided but he did see you pack a couple, he could use those.

But you tightened the grip of your leg on his hip, forcing him to stay in place. You looked over your shoulder and he could barely make out your pout in the dim light “Stay inside please. Keep me warm” You requested. He had never been good at saying no to you.

So he pecked your lips and chose to forget about the myriad of problems facing him and all of you. At least for now.

Tags will be in the reblogs! If you want to join my taglist click the link in the bio or leave me an ask!

I am sorry about the shitton of nicknames. I just like sweet nicknames ok🥺🥺

#ambersanyficchallenge #sweatersanyficchallenge #steve rogers x soft!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x original character #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x oc #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader

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anjuschiffer · 4 years

Text

[Mutuals]

Some more self-indulgent writing! Mainly because of a post @zestyzealot reblogged a while back and inspired this piece.

(This is the post I’m referring to!)

Enjoy!

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P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @polyvirnl

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Context: There’s no miraculouses. None. Nada. But the Bats still exist. Marinette uses her time to expand her brand MDC

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AO3

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Marinette huffed as she placed the last crystal bead onto the hem of the black skirt in her hands.

Bringing it to eye level, a wide smile graced her lips, a smile breaking as Marinette giggled to herself as she watched her vision become reality.

Finally! After four long and exhausting days, it was done. When she started on Monday night, Marinette wondered if this project would get in the way of her weekly sleepover with Alya. Thank God it didn’t.

Placing the skirt on her bed, Marinette smiled as she took a picture of her latest piece for her new collection: 12 o’ clock.

That’s when the hatch on her floor opened up with a creak, Marinette watching as her father poked his head into her room. Why was he here?

“Marinette, there’s someone here looking for you.” He said, giving a side glance down below. “Please tell me he’s just a school friend and not another boy you asked to model for you.”

“Dad, I already told you, Luka is Juleka’s older brother, he- wait, he? It’s not Alya?” Marinette asked, wondering where her best friend was at.

Yes, Alya gave her a heads up that she was running late for their sleepover, but she wasn’t downstairs yet? And her father had said ‘he’ instead of a guy friend’s name, so… who exactly was waiting for her downstairs?

Because despite only saying the name once, her father tended to commit to memory the names of all of her male friends. “What does he look like?”

“Well, he’s a bit on the short side,” Tom started, “has green eyes, tanned, wearing a turtleneck with some of those suit pants-”

“Slacks.” Marinette helped.

“Those,” Tom corrected himself, “and he has a dog with him.” Tom ended, watching as Marinette mumbled to herself.

Marinette didn’t know anyone with a dog, nonetheless with that type of fashion, causing Marinette to start pacing around her room, racking up some idea as to who it was that was in the living room. “He called the dog Titus, if memory serves me correctly. Or if I heard correctly for that matter.”

That caused Mari to stop in her tracks.

A turtleneck with slacks, a Great Dane named Titus, tanned skin...emerald eyes.

“No. Way.” Marinette quickly motioned her father to go down the ladder, quickly following him into the living room, her eyes widening upon seeing her theory be true.

There, standing inside the Dupain-Cheng living room was Damian Wayne with his dog, Titus.

“Took you long enough.” Damian said, adjusting the duffel bag on his shoulder. Titus wagged his tail as he saw his boy open the bag and give him his toy.

Just then, the door swung open, Alya panting as she dropped to the floor as soon as she walked in.

“Girl, you wouldn’t believe who I just saw! There, as soon as I turned the corner of where I lived, I saw the Damian Wayne with his dog, and- why is he in your living room?”

“Seeing as you finally caught up,” Damian said, walking over to Alya, handing her a heavy plastic bag. “Take care of Titus while we’re out.”

“We?” “We?” “We?!” Alya, Tom and Marinette spoke at the same time, although Marinette’s came out as a squeak.

“Did you forget what you told me?” Damian waved his phone that was in his hand. Marinette watched as he showed her a tweet...her tweet in particular, Marinette now going into a state of panic. “You invited me to egg-” Marinette screamed, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she lowered his phone and dragged him out the apartment, leaving behind a confused Tom and a giddy Alya.

———

“You actually read that?” Marinette asked once more, covering her cheeks as they walked towards the park square.

“I did.” Damian hummed as he adjusted the egg cartoons under his arm, a dangerous twinkle in his emerald eyes.

Marinette let out a silent screech, confusing Damian. “Did you think I wouldn’t read it?” When he saw her nod, he sighed. “I read every comment left under any post I write. Sure, I don’t respond to any of them, but your comment… seemed… interesting.”

Marinette wanted to disappear into a black hole. Damian actually read that stupid comment she had left under his post.

It was a post from earlier that week - a picture Damian had uploaded from the recent animal shelter he was volunteering at (as well as funding).

Another post about an animal up for adoption, this time, a hamster named Louis.

Marinette was scrolling through the comments under the post after retweeting it, when a particular one caught her attention.

<3 ACNH is Life <3 @eliza_beth

Replying to @Real_BloodSon I have a pet chicken and just wanted to ask if the candle method is a good method to check for egg development. If so, then are they safe to eat? If not, what’s a better method?

Everyone knew Damian loved to offer help when it came to animals -as it was no secret- but something stupid inside of Marinette thought she should do the only logical thing in her mind.

She commented on it.

Deadlines Are Approaching @a_mari_not_bug

Replying to @eliza_beth and @Real_BloodSon If it turns out that it is a good method, can I have some eggs? I’ve been wanting to egg someone's house as of late. @Real_BloodSon care to join?

Marinette didn’t think he would actually read it, let alone actually come. Wait…

Damian lives in the US, not France, unlike her.

So how did he know where she lived, let alone reside?

“How did you know where I live?” Marinette asked, realizing they were finally at the park, right across from the targeted house, not even realizing that she had brought him over to the house in question.

Damian blinked, setting the cartons down onto the bench.

“Tsurugi told me.”

“You know Tsurugi. As in Kagami Tsurugi?” Marinette asked, wondering where he had met her friend.

Damian nodded.

“We met during the semifinals for the international fencing competition.”

Oh. So that’s how they knew each other.

Damian let a smirk grace his lips. “Obviously, I won.”

Marinette simply looked at him in awe, causing Damian’s ego to soar more. Of course, that didn’t overcome the other feeling he had inside his chest.

After all, there was no way he was going to tell her that he has been following her account for quite a while.

So using the amounts of aesthetic pictures, selfies, bakery promos and mini photo shoots, it didn’t take long for Damian to pinpoint where she lived.

That’s not following Damian. It’s called stalking.

Okay Drake, but in his defense:

1- it was his side account that he uses for his own personal interests.

Damian didn’t exactly like having thousands of people following him because he was a Wayne. He wanted to be followed for being Damian.

2- he had been following her for quite a while.

Two solid years to be exact.

After exchanging social media accounts with Kagami, Marinette was one of the few people Twitter recommended to follow.

Marinette peaked his curiosity when Kagami mentioned Marinette being the person behind her “lucky” fencing bag. (Although, she didn’t want to admit that she used it as a luck charm.) It was an all black duffel bag, enchanting golden embroidery that collected to a single dragon.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Kagami had provided. A girl in her grade from her school in France, who designed the most intricate designs Damian had seen. (Yes, he has seen all of her sketches and final products of the things she had designed…yes it did involve scrolling through her photos and accidentally liking all of them as he went…)

3- it was too late to press that “follow” button when he already kinda didn’t do it as soon as she followed his own account.

When he finally noticed that she did already follow him, he didn’t know what to do. Should he follow her back?

“Not yet.” Dick had told him. But just how long did he have to wait? He was stupid for listening to Dick’s advice and he definitely wasn’t going to follow her back now. Or should he?

“So,” Marinette started again, looking around the area, scanning to see that no one saw them. “Have you ever done this before?”

“As in egging a house?” Damian watched as Marinette nodded, wondering if this was her first time doing this. “No, but it shouldn’t be any different than throwing snowballs.” Damian compared, remembering last year’s winter.

Jon had managed to convince the Wayne’s and the Kent’s to do a snowball fight.

The Wayne’s obviously won.

“Guess you have a point.” Marinette replied, attempting to vision Damian’s analogy. She picked up an egg and looked at it and then at the window of the person who had been causing her turmoil these past few days. “Are you… are you sure you want to go with this?”

“Aren’t you?” Damian asked, awaiting Marinette’s signal. He had perfectly balanced a dozen eggs into the nook of his arm, one being juggled in his other hand.

He was ready and from the twinkle in his eyes, eager to throw.

Marinette found herself smiling, letting out a laugh as she grabbed a few eggs herself and balanced them in her hand.

“Between you and I, I've been dreaming of doing this for the longest.” Marinette said with the biggest grin Damian had seen her with that night. “Ready?”

“Always.” Damian replied, mirroring her grin as the two looked at the target, Marinette throwing the first attack.

Bonus:

Marinette hummed as she doodled in her sketchbook, her mind wandering to last night’s events.

She hadn’t known how much stress she had built up thanks to Lila and her constant need to be the attention of everything.

The messes Marinette had to clean up due to Lila causing disorder during class and after class, all because of Lila and her gazillion and one ‘medical’ problems.

Marinette didn’t realize how emerged she was towards throwing eggs -with great accuracy- towards Lila’s bedroom window until she threw her last egg.

She remembered how satisfying it was to have thrown all of those eggs at the window, that glee when Damian smiled at her.

How happy she was when Damian complimented her for her graceful and precise throws despite the low lightning of the park lights.

Marinette placed her pencil down as she finished adding some last minute touches to the coat she had finished designing when Alya slammed her hands in front of her. Marinette quickly looked up at her friend, tilting her head when she was met with twinkling eyes.

“Did you hear what happened to Lila last night?” Alya whispered, causing Marinette to quickly tense.

“N-no? What happened?” Marinette asked, closing her sketchbook.

“Her house got egged. Well, her bedroom window did.” Alya corrected herself, watching as Marinette let out a gasp.

“No way! Poor Lila.” Marinette looked over to Lila, watching as she was surrounded by their classmates to gather to listen to her woeful story. “Who would ever do such a thing?”

“Beats me.” Alya said, looking at Marinette, a faint smile on her lips. “You and Damian wouldn’t happen to have been involved-”

“Us?” Marinette instigated, causing Alya to lean forward. “You think Damian and I would do something that stupid and not think of the consequences that awaited us? No way.” Marinette denied, causing Alya to sigh.

“Should’ve known you wouldn’t be up to it. Only you would step down after overthinking about the consequences.” Alya said as she patted her head before taking a few steps from Marinette. “Not like anyone would know who it was since the security cameras of the area seemed to have gone off at that time, strangely enough. Maybe if I hear what Lila has to say about the event, I’ll get some hints as to who it was.”

With that, Alya left to go and listen to Lila, leaving Marinette by herself.

Finally alone, Marinette let out a sigh, feeling her back relax. She felt as a smile rose to her face.

Giddily, she took out her phone to send Damian a text when a Twitter notification caught her attention.

She quickly checked it, her smile growing even more. She went back to sending Damian a text.

You bugged the cameras last night?

Damian: A necessary precaution.

Marinette giggled at his response.

Also, I saw you started following me. Now we’re mutuals!

Damian liked your message.

Damian: It was only a matter of time, seeing as we egged your enemy’s home.

More like someone I dislike.

Damian: Same thing.

Damian: Query. Would you like to join Titus and I for a walk at the park?

Sure! Class ends at 3. Meet you then?

Damian: Titus and I would await you then.

Marinette grinned as she placed her phone away as the school bell rang, signaling the beginning of class.

She couldn’t wait to spend time with her newfound friend! Who knows what mischief awaited the two!

#maribat #bff daminette #daminette #anju writes

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kidney9-9 · 4 years

Text

Good Morning

Anonymous asked:

Going through a rough time so steve distracting you by spoiling you with gifts and uh going to town on u to forget pls xx

Hi sweetie! Thank you for sending this in! Hope you enjoy. Masterlist linked in bio, tags in reblog :)

Steve Rogers x Reader (Angst/Fluff/Smut) Warnings: swearing and fem!oral recieving Word Count: 2.5k

You squeezed your eyes shut in frustration and anger as you muted the call. Everything was going to shit, it seemed. Your family got upset with you for not responding while you were away on a mission and threw out all your childhood belongings. Your friends outside the Compound spread rumors about you online about stealing from a charity and cheating on a few people after you forgot to say happy birthday to one of them. Your apartment outside the Compound caught on fire after your neighbor threw a lit cigar the ground in front of your door, on your mat. Even the weather started to turn sour, the sky started to darken and the colors around you were now fading slowly into a dull earthy tone.

You didn’t know how your life could get so bad within the very few days. And you didn’t know if it could even get better at the time. It just didn’t seem possible. You were stuck at Steve’s place now, and you had a feeling you were getting annoying just from being in his space. You didn’t want to bother anyone now, feeling as though something else would happen and you’d lose more people you care about.

Steve didn’t know about your family and friends treating you like that, but when you saw his shoulder from the shadow against the wall, you silently cursed because he could hear everything now. All the fucking anger your family was casting out to you now, telling you that you were a disgrace and a shame to the family name. They were mentioning your friends too, and they believed their rumors, that you robbed a place and intend to rob more.

It made no sense. You had a good job as chief editor at one of the most recognizable newspaper companies. Why would you do such a thing? And you knew if your bosses heard any bit of what your family and friends were saying now, you’d lose the job. You contemplated what to do as you saw Steve moved closer, his frame now peeking out from the door.

You couldn’t stand it if he believed what they were saying. It would hurt so much, and you’d have to find an apartment sooner rather than later. You murmured his name, “Steve, uh I can see you.” The phone was still muted as you could hear one of your family members shifting through any stuff you used own, while cursing out about how you didn’t deserve any of them.

Steve moved closer to you, stepping slowly as his face twisted even more with anger, hearing the words that were directed at you. “What’s happening?” He responded, not understanding the situation. You frowned even more at his words, facing the other direction now, not wanting to see if he was angry at you.

“I don’t fucking know anymore…” You finally responded, voice cracking as you let your tears fall. So many hidden tears, you didn’t want him to see but now he can. Steve froze at the sound, eyes going to the back of your head for a few seconds before he stepped closer to the table, rounding to the other way.

Your head leaned against the top of the chair, not finding the strength to gaze back to him. “Sweetheart,” He paused, his tone turning warmer as he saw the silent cries falling from your lips. You shook your head frantically back as you could practically feel the disappointment rolling through the phone.

“Hang up the phone.” Steve spoke again, scooting closer to you now as he sat on the chair next to you. Sniffles came from you as you felt his hand cup your cheek and you blinked away the fast tears, glancing to the phone on the table.

You hesitated as you grasped onto the phone, crying even more as you heard someone shout, “She’s a whore and liar! I don’t understand why you didn’t kick her out by eighteen!” Steve scoffed, wishing he could yell back, but he knew he shouldn’t. Instead he took the phone from your hand, before they could say even more, and pressed the end button.

“Y/n, look at me, please.” Steve begged you watching as you squeezed your eyes shut again. You whimpered as his other hand drifted to your waist. He stood up, bringing you along with him and you cried against his chest, slowly pushing your hands around his back and hugging him.

The hug must’ve lasted around ten minutes, and you wished you could stay there for longer. His hugs were always incredible, melting away some nervousness you’ve had, but this one was different. You wanted to thank him, but it was just too difficult to talk about what happened. The next few days, Steve stuck by your side, insisting to make every minute happier.

He started to do his work from home now, still wanting to make you feel happier. You were already working from home, reading through the articles sent to you before publication. You didn’t want to reach out to any of your friends or family, even though now they realized what they did was wrong. It made you frown when you’d see their names pop up on your phone, when they tried calling and texting you. You appreciated Steve, he was a sweet boyfriend, and being in his apartment made you both a lot closer.

For example, waking up next to him every day. It was an incredible feeling, seeing him yawn and greet you good morning with kisses and kind words. You noticed cute habits or things about him that you didn’t know from before, and it made you fall in love with him even more.

“Hey babe, look what came for you!” You heard as you washed your hands. You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion, but quickly stepped out of the bathroom, glancing through the crack of the door to see Steve holding a few boxes. You let out a giggle as you walked closer to him, to see him struggling with the boxes.

“What are these?” You asked gently, taking a hold of the box by his head, so it didn’t tip over. You set it down on the counter quickly, after you noticed how heavy it was. Steve smiled back to you, carefully placing the other boxes on the counter as well.

His smiled widened as he chuckled before answering your question, “It’s just a few things I thought you’d like…” He trailed off and your facial expression deepened in curiosity. You laughed a bit in confusion but surprise before opening one of the boxes.

You tore open the tab, eyes widening as you saw one of the items. It was exactly like your favorite childhood toy, a newer version though. You picked it up slowly, gasping as you started to remember everything. How you used to play with it almost every day, tucking it into bed, and how you’d accidently spilt tea on it. You felt your eyes water as you gazed back to Steve with a softened expression.

“Baby…” You murmured, sniffling. Steve instantly started to worry, guilt clawing at him, “Oh no, I didn’t mean to get you upset, I’m so sorry! I’ll return this stuff.” He apologized, rambling as he pushed away the other boxes, rather across the table.

You shook your head, giggling a bit. “No, this is amazing, I- how did you do this all? Thank you.” Steve felt relieved but was shocked again as you pressed your figure against his, holding him tightly in a hug.

He hugged you back quickly, running his hand up and down your back sweetly and slowly. “You told me about them before and I wanted you to have parts of your childhood with you. It’s important. I lost all of mine, and I know how hard it is. You didn’t deserve what happened, and I wanted to make things better for you.” His words dripped honey into your ears, and you squeezed him even harder after that.

He was so incredibly handsome and sweet; you couldn’t believe it. He’s always been this way and you had to tell him now, what you felt about him, “I love you. I’m not saying it because I’m surprised right now, but I’m saying it because it’s the truth. Everything about you – is lovable.” You whispered, hearing Steve’s heartbeat.

Steve beamed, pulling you back within a few seconds, “I care about you too, so much. I was worried you’d think it was too soon, if I said I love you.” His response made you giggle, shaking your head. He quickly pulled you up, picking you up and setting you onto the counter, kissing you deeply.

The kiss was passionate, and the tears of joy ran down your face, slowing down as you felt his tongue swipe at your bottom lip. You giggled again, pulling at his hair a bit before kissing him even harder.

Weeks after Steve’s surprise, the gifts started to become a daily thing. You’d wake up to see he bought you your favorite pastry, shipped from your hometown’s bakery. Or sometimes, he’d tell you to close your eyes, and he’d drip a diamond necklace around you. Some gifts made you feel so special, how he’d give you handwritten letters on days he was too busy to go home, or even sketches of you laying on the sunbed of his balcony.

Today, you woke up, hearing Steve get out of the shower. You yawned and stretched in the bed, before sitting up and grinning back to him as he dropped the towel, heading towards the closet. “Babe?” You mumbled, sleep still in your voice.

“Your ass is hot.” You commented, head tilting as he glanced back to you. Steve laughed, shaking his head before responding, “I know, but your ass is hotter.”

You giggled, denying it playfully, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed, still undressed. You were only in his shirt from last night, still dirty with a mixture of his and your cum on your thighs and stomach. It felt sticky but you enjoyed it. You shifted closer to him, letting the shirt peak up slowly as you straightened your back as you sat up completely.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve murmured, as he closed the gap between the two of you, kissing your lips softly. It was a sweet and gently one, but he quickly set his attention down to your neck, causing your back to curl closer to him. He could feel your nipples harden against his chest, and he pushed you down all the way onto the bed again.

You sighed in delight as he shifted his body against yours, kissing down your neck, and closer to your chest. He spread the button down apart, kissing and taking his time as you felt yourself shiver, becoming hornier. “Steve…” You moaned his name gently, as his lips opened and pressed attention into one of your breasts, his tongue circling over again.

“You’re my darling, I love you so much,” Steve paused, breaking away from your chest as his hand smoothed over your other breast, pinching gently. He dipped back down after he gazed back up to you lovingly, kissing down lower onto your torso.

The sounds coming from you spurred Steve even more, wanting to give you some love this morning, more than ever. Before he could though he glanced up, “May I?” His question was answered with a yes, as you nodded, shifting your hips, trying to get any relief from the growing arousal building up.

Steve smiled before moving all the way down, in between your legs. His head rested against your inner thigh, as he slowly twirled circles on the other. He groaned in desire, feeling the stickiness of your cum and the feeling of you quivering under him. He lifted his head slowly, kissing your skin gently before moving closer to your center.

You whimpered, wanting him to continue, and he did. His kisses slowly made their way closer to your clit, but he paused once he got there, and instead his tongue came out, licking slow and strong against you. A gasp flew out of your mouth and you groaned out his name as he did it again before pressing an open kiss against your pussy, and his fingers drifted closer.

He collected your wetness with his finger, as he twirled up slowly to flick and tease your clit before he dipped his finger in, causing your head to roll against the pillow, back arching as you wanted even more, “Please! Please, Steve, fuck I’m begging you.” You cried out as he pushed two fingers in now, pumping in and out in a rhythm matching his patterns on your clit with his tongue and mouth.

“Mm, my baby is getting everything she asks for.” He answered, chuckling against your clit to press vibrations into you. Another gasp, and he moved his head back, to get his other hand closer. His fingers ran up and down your inner lips, teasingly before he set them on top of your clit.

Without warning, he started to ring into your clit repeatedly, strength and speed slowly going up and causing more moans to pour out of you. Your eyes were clenched shut as your orgasm neared and you gasped out, “Steve- I’m going to come.” You stuttered, some mumbles coming out of you as well, a bit incoherent as you started to shake.

Steve smiled, going faster, “Such a good girl, come for me.” You gaped even more, heading tilting back against the pillows and your hips raised even more trying to get more pressure from his fingers, and now his mouth too as he started to kiss and lick around your pussy.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you even faster now, curling in and hitting against your g-spot and you cried out his name.

“Fuck! Steve! I’m coming! I’m coming.” You shouted out, shaking and shivering even more as your cum pushed out of you, onto his tongue, and he continued to lick it up, after he pulled his fingers out of you. He continued to slowly roll his fingers over your clit, causing your orgasm to last longer.

“Taste so good,” Steve hummed slowly, pulling away from you before laying down by your side. Your heavy breathing started to slow into a calm one, and you gazed to him lovingly.

“That was… thank you.” You breathed out, giggling in a joyous daze. You reached out and cupped his sweaty face, cuddling closer to him. Your legs tangled with his and you tucked your head closer to his as well.

He could feel your breath against his neck, and he shivered before mumbling, “Good morning, I love you.” The words made you giggle, and you thought back to all that time ago, when you thought everything was over and shitty. Now it was incredible… you felt a happiness you didn’t know was possible with him.

“I love you too.” You whispered back, before he kissed you gently. The two of you laid in bed for the next over, slowly making out passionately before you had to get up for proper breakfast.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #avengers smut #avengers x reader #avengers fanfiction #thanks for sending this in #love y'all #kidney9-9

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hopeassassin · 3 years

Text

Rally’s Scribbles in the Work

So after that lovely anon blew my mind away with their kind words and wonderful support, and because I keep telling you guys about my writing plans without actually giving you even a teensy little detail, I have decided to stop being coy and actually likely get your hopes up a bit by dilvulging small details and bits of plots of what is currently going on in my G-Drive.

This will be a brief recount of what I have currently baking in the AoMomo oven, so let’s dive right into it! Please note that the numbers are in no particular order - I just keep revisiting each of these stories and writing a bit more to them whenever I feel like it. So there’s no ranking and no importance, just a number to keep proper count.

1. “Knight of Renown” Dragons and Knighthood AU, based on that one AoMomo pic with Momo ithe Knight and Dragon Aomine that I reblogged a while back and I actually let me imagination go a bit too much in the tags. I ended up actually rather enjoying the premise I set up in the tags so I actually started writing that one out! Completion rate at about: 5%? I’d say? Less? :D

2. AoMomo Music AU - a dearly beloved project that I am pouring a lot of love and attentioin to. That’s why it’s coming along super slow. It’s been in the making since November and I chewed it and mulled through it so thoroughly that I’ve grinded to a halt with it. Intending for there to be 2 chapters, and I am at about 25-30% of chapter 1 currently ready currently. At the pace I’m going, it might be another full year before you actually get to see this bad boy up, but when you do, I’m sure you’ll see all the care and effort that went into making it perfect. Honestly, no joke here, I am intending for this to be one of my rare masterpieces in this tag. So I’m not gonna rush it!

3. AoMomo Car Accident AU where Daiki barely manages to save Satsuki from being run over by a hit-and-run and ends up being the one run over instead. This was my first piece of writing after coming back to AoMomo last summer and yet completion rate is a sad thing. I want it to be flawless, a perfectly agonizing, thrilling type of torturous read that gives you a great sense of relief by the end of it. Needless to say, the clusterfuck of negative feelings is a bit difficult to hold onto for a prolonged period of time and the work is coming along slowly. Planned at about 5 chapters, I have 2 complete ones and the 3rd one is at about ... 30%? Hopefully before this year’s whumptober, we’ll have a finished piece!

4. AoMomo bond character study, which went in a direction I did NOT expect nor intend. It was suppsoed to be an idea that you will see also listed below. But I started this one from their early childhood and somehow, instead of focusing on the kids and their bond and their weird interactions with each other and their first moments of realizing they are of opposite genders, it turned into something much too fun to let go of and the ideas for scenes just kept piling. It’s going to be a long one, very explorative and very in-depth character study on the bond between these two and how it changed over the years, and their first encounters with their sexuality inbetween (because that was really the main idea that I started with... xDDD;;;) Currently at 1 chapter complete, chapter 2 somewhere around 50-60% completion, and at least 6-7 chapters to come after that, soooo.... :’DDDD YEAH. THIS ONE AIN’T SEEING THE LIGHT OF DAY ANYTIME SOON.

5. AoMomo deciding to practice stuff on each other, because I am a sucker for this trope.THIS will be what the idea under previous number 4 was SUPPOSED to be like, but it instead spun out of control. So this one, under number 5, is going to be the smutty, idiots bumbling through physicality to discover that they actually have serious feelings for each other kind of piece. Chapters are planned at about at least 6-7 or so, but not my usual monstrocities! :D First we start with practice kissing, and we move our way up from there!

6. “The Evil of Humanity” AU - a dystopian futuristic kinda mecha AU, sort of an amalgamation of some of my favourite anime in the genre - a bit of NGE, a bit of Gurren-Lagann, a lot of Darling in the Franxx rewrite and improvement, in distinctly AoMomo colors. I poured a lot of thought and love into initial outline of main moments for this one, and I really hope to make it an epic, thrilling action/adventure with a big dash of romance kind of read! Chapters currently not even planned properly, because I need to sit down and consider this seriously. It will definitely be more than 10-15 though, and they will be my usual chapter lengths so.... likely no time soon. :D

7. Aomine Fanclub - I got a plot bunny some time ago and I shared it here and my friends were spurring me on with it, so I started trying it out a little more. I’ve written out like... maybe 30% of this one as well, but need to re-read and reconceptualize to get it back on track. The issue with this one is that I’m not really sure where I want to take it, thus it’s on the back burner at the moment.

8. KagaKuro AoMomo double-date kind of story, where Aomine is asking some curious questions of Taiga about going to America and pondering if any of his immediate friends know what Satsuki wants to do with her life. I’m really invested in this one but haven’t started properly writing it out yet beyond just sketching out the idea so I don’t forget it. (I’d say 1% complete here.) Really looking forward to using the idea of Kagami being super impressed with AoMomo perfect sync when playing as a team in arcade games!

9.Laws of Attraction Chapter 2 - You might be surprised at this, but I’m actually super invested in this one. Likely the reason why I am delaying so much working on it - I feel like all my great scene ideas are just too chaotic and I have a hard time starting the chapter flowing properly. I had like 4-5 false starts already and I’m feeling a bit skittish with picking it up. But I have such AMAZING concepts on where to take it after it revvs up the engine, so... Maybe sometime this year! Completion rate: 0% written, but at least about 30% ideas built up for the installment!

10. AoMomo college rooming together story - sort of an expansion on my fill for one of the prompts way back those years ago in AoMomo week. I really dig the concept and the trope of sharing spaces with someone you consider nothing more than a friend and then gradually learning to appreciate each other for something so much more. I am definitely doing this one some day, but not anytime soon, likely.

11. A random idea bit me the other day (read: a month ago) and I actually wrote out like... maybe 25% of it already as well. A random comment from Wakamatsu miffs Satsuki but then she realizes why he’s asking dumb questions and she comes to realize that something is wrong with the equation: either Dai-chan likes someone really close to them and she hasn’t realized, which is unlikely, or Dai-chan likes HER and is super blase about it in a way that betrays his feelings not at all, which is even more unlikely. Being a curious individual, she sets out to find which it is! Some hilarity should ensue but mostly just some mess-with-Dai-chan fun!

12. Touou summer training camp at the sea - progress is practically 0, I wanted to write a summery piece and set my mind on this, but nothing beyond has come to me, so I’m not forcing it.

13. AoMomo cultural festival fic in second year of high school (meaning something approx end of Oct -> beginning of Nov.) with Daiki being in a distinctly Haruhu Suzumiya role at that festival (has anyone even seen this anime? I adored that episode to freaking bits, man, it’s engraved upon my soul) and singing Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell” and one more song just like Haruhi did. And Satsuki just beholding the phenomenon he becomes in no time flat while he lays bare his passion for life for all the student body to see. Shippiness will happen in private afterwards!

14. You Can Leave Your Hat On Chapter 2 - Probably like 2-3 years ago while I was still in the damn woodwork and wrestling with real life and adulting being crap, I remembered this AU premise and I got super hyped on the idea of Club Owner Dai-chan being a flirt with innocent Satsuki who got dragged to his joined and fell in love at first sight with his shenanigans. I’ve already played around for like 7k words with the second chapter of this but I’m still not where I want to be at, so it will take a while longer to flesh it out.

15. Idol Worship - a story that I promised my mate aricana some 6 years ago the premise for which I am super hyped for but not quite engaging with it yet. The idea was that Momoi finally starts gettiing the dates she has been pesting Kuroko for for years, and Daiki feeling terrible about beholding that, whilst Kise is being pestered by Horikita Mai for a date and instead ditches her with Daiki because he knows his former Teikou classmate is a huge fan of her. Mai-chan isn’t particularly happy but somehow ends up enjoying her time with Daiki and starts considering actually pursuing him instead of Kise when she sees what an interesting soul he is, with the torch that he’s carrying for some girl in his life he doesn’t really talk about but is evident from the little things he drops off as hits. AoMomo shenanigans will start to ensue properly when Satsuki realizes that Daiki is actually having a close female friend who is not her but is Horikita Mai instead, Dai-chan’s perfect woman, practically. She doesn’t take well to the news and has to grapple with why that is! And what to do with these newfound frustrating emotions!

16. Obstruction of Justice Chapter 3 - MAYBE SOME DAY, I WILL GET TO WRITING THIS. Last summer I inteded to do just that but instead, Wild Side of Justice was born. And it became a spin off of sorts on its own. ORZ. I WILL FINISH THIS SOME DAY, I do have some plans for it and I do have the desire to pursue them. I just need to be in the right headspace for it ahsjkfhkjaf

17. A PWP story of Kagami arriving early for a practice match at Touou and somehow walking in on AoMomo getting busy with each other in very unexpected and explicit ways that Kagami did not see headed his way. Because, we need more PWP in this fandom, honestly.

18. And since we DO need more PWP, recently when checking the 30 lemons community on LJ (shut up, I’m not ancient, YOU’RE ANCIENT) I was wondering how exactly a smut plot around the “Taken by the Faceless Stranger” could work for Aomomo and I came up with this Masquerade ball that they end up both attending because of their friends and meeting each other and hitting off fantastically just chatting the night and then banging in a niche in the long castle-like premise of the ball. :’DDDD Cuz it’s me and if I don’t have something like that in the works, you know i’m likely sick.

ALL OF THESE I am planning on eventually finishing one day. ONE DAY!

For now they are in various states of completion and in various stages of being cared for and improved on with more ideas added and fleshed out.

I am not joking when I say I am very invested in this fandom. I just have difficulty getting to writing out these ideas when I spend like 60% of my free time playing my mobile games. :D

So there you have it. I didn’t want to say anything about these because 1) I don’t want to get your hopes up. You Can Leave Your Hat On 2, for one, has been in the making for 3 years, very on-again-off-again kind of way, and I just... can’t do that to you guys. I have decided against posting any incomplete fics so I don’t torture you guys and my muse doesn’t abandom me forever for them. So when something is complete, it gets posted promptly for your viewing pleasure!

And 2) If I divulge too much of the story, I feel like my hype of it may disappear completely. Ehh, my muse is a willful creature, what can I tell you...

So let’s hope at least SOME of these get to see the light of day soon!

#my scribbles #here you have it #a rather complete list of incomplete AoMomo stuff I'd say #Rally's works in the making #tagged as:#AoMomo #because it's all AoMomo #sorry for spamming the main tag with nonsense #Kuroko no Basuke #will I ever finish any and all of these?#here's to hoping!#a little bit insider info from the kitchen #fanfiction #writing

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bitchin-beskar · 4 years

Text

Spidey Sense

Fandom: The Old Guard

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: So the original prompt for this was something along the lines of: "hey, what if Joe and Nicky keep pictures of each other in their wallets to remind them of why they're doing this whenever they have to be apart" and this was born from that. Enjoy!

Tags: @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379, @marydjarin @perropascal

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my works!

Please like and reblog! I love feedback!!!

Gazing down at the image of the love of his life, forever immortalized by his hand, never failed to bring a smile to Joe’s lips. His drawings would never be as magnificent, as breathtaking as looking at Nicky with his own two eyes, but whenever they were apart, he had to make do with images drawn by his hand.

Slipping the small slip of paper back into his wallet, Joe flipped it shut and slid it into one of his many pockets. He hated going on missions without Nicky, but this particular job had required his expertise in infiltrating one building while Nicky’s skills as a sniper were required four blocks away. It was unfortunate, but not the first time it had happened, and it likely wouldn’t be the last.

When Copley had informed them of the job, he’d made sure they knew that he’d been unable to get any estimates on the number of guards they’d have to deal with. It made Joe uneasy, but they’d gone through with it anyways. Some tech company was trying to use their software to hack into the Pentagon to steal the locations of missile silos located all over the US. The government was very concerned about this threat, and so Copley had called them in.

Joe was supposed to create a distraction at the main headquarters, drawing the company’s attention and thus, allowing Nicky to eliminate guards at the warehouse that housed the company's main servers, which would then allow Nile and Booker to get in and plant explosives. Boom! No more servers, no more threat.

Nicky had been worried about Joe causing a distraction when they didn’t know the amount of guards, but Joe had tried to soothe his beloved’s fears as best he could.

“Habibi,” he’d said, hand resting on Nicky’s waist, holding him close. “I will be fine. And if anything were to go wrong, I know that you will not allow them to hold me for long.”

Nicky had leaned his forehead against Joe’s, one of his many, silent, I love you’s that he bestowed upon Joe throughout the day. “I would prefer it if nothing goes wrong.”

“As would I.”

***

Nicky had been right to worry, and Joe knew he would never hear the end of it. There had been twice as many guards as Copley’s estimate, and even with Joe’s healing, and centuries worth of experience, he’d quickly been overwhelmed. They’d knocked him out–although, perhaps they’d killed him, Joe wasn’t entirely sure–and when he woke, he was chained to a metal chair, bolted in the middle of an all white room.

His first thought had been something along the lines of how poor of a choice it was to put him in an all white room, as it undoubtedly would become quite the grotesque scene when Nicky arrived. Blood clashed so horribly on white walls, and Nicky could get quite ferocious whenever Joe was threatened.

His second thought was on the fact that even while bound, he could tell that his wallet was no longer in his pocket. That, in of itself was of no consequence, practically everything in it was fake–it was hard to have valid ID’s and such when you were an immortal warrior born nine hundred years ago–but there was one precious item in that wallet.

The drawing of Nicky was one of many, but that didn’t mean it was any less special. Joe had saved every single scrap of paper he’d ever drawn Nicky’s likeness on, and while some had aged beyond recognition, he hadn’t had the heart to let any of them go. He knew that Nicky similarly had many, many photographs and paintings of him. Nicky always professed that he wasn’t as artistically inclined as Joe, but every time Nicky sketched him, Joe could see the love and care that went into each piece of art, and he fell in love with Nicky all over again.

He was jolted out of his musings by the door opening violently, slamming against the wall. He didn’t react outwardly, instead analyzing each of the men that walked into the room. Ten men entered, the last, an older man with grey in his hair, shut the door behind him, making a show of locking it. Joe wanted to scoff. These men didn’t intimidate him in the slightest, and they would have to try a lot harder if they wanted to get a reaction out of him.

“Who sent you?”

Joe laughed. So this is how they were doing this. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The man scowled, the expression twisting his features into a mask of hatred. “I don’t like your attitude, kid.”

Joe laughed even harder at that, his body shaking with mirth, although his eyes were cold as ice. “I’m not quite as young as I look,” he chuckled under his breath, watching as the other men shuffled awkwardly. They clearly feared the older man, and he could see in some of their eyes that they feared for him if he continued to antagonize their leader.

There was a sharp crack, and Joe’s head snapped to the side, the backhand delivered with an impressive amount of force. It might’ve hurt, if Joe hadn’t lived as long as he had, and had experienced far worse. Still, he kept up appearances. The longer these men were unaware of his healing and his immortality, the better.

“Who sent you?”

Joe grins, the perfect picture of innocence. “Who says anyone sent me? Perhaps I decided to come all by myself?” He probably shouldn’t be antagonizing this man, but he’s having too much fun.

The man snaps his fingers, and one of the other men rushes forward to hand him something. Joe recognizes it as his wallet, watching as the man flips through it, pulling out his driver’s license. “Joseph Jones? Is that even your name?” The man scoffs. “Why were you trying to break in?”

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to break in.” The man looks confused for all of two seconds before Joe opens his mouth again. “I’d already broken in. Your men found me after I got in.” Joe can’t help but brag a little, because, well, their security was shit, but also because he was trying to stall for time, so that Nile and Booker could get in and out without any issues. “You really shouldn’t have picked white walls you know, white stains so easily–”

He gets another backhand for his efforts, and the man in front of him actually growls. He goes back to pawing through Joe’s wallet, and Joe can feel his heart stop when the man pulls out Joe’s drawing of Nicky.

The man looks at it, and it’s clear he doesn’t know what to think at first. He studies the drawing, and Joe can feel sparks of anger igniting in his chest, although he tries not to show it. The man suddenly laughs, and it’s a cruel, mocking laugh. He shoves the drawing at one of the other men before turning back to Joe, a cruel smirk on his face.

“How cute,” he sneers. “Mr. Jones keeps a picture of his boyfriend in his wallet.” The man spits on the ground at Joe’s feet. “God, that’s disgusting.”

Anger clouds Joe’s vision, bubbling up in his chest like rising magma before bursting forth from his mouth before he can stop it.

“Boyfriend? Boyfriend? Nicolo is not my boyfriend,” he spits, fire burning in his eyes. “You are a narrow-minded, childish, little man. Nicolo means more to me than all the stars in the sky. He has been my light, my heart, for over nine hundred years, and he will continue to be my light and my heart for nine hundred more. I have fought a thousand battles by his side, I have gone to war to protect him just as he has for me. There will always be those who try to separate us, those who cannot possibly understand the depth of my love for that man, and yet,” he pauses, a dark smirk on his face as some of the men step back in fear. “Those who try always end up dead. No, Nicolo is not my boyfriend. He’s all and he’s more.”

***

Nicky was in the middle of dismantling his rifle when he felt it. It didn’t even take him a moment before he recognized the feeling. It was the feeling he always got whenever Joe would make grand declarations of love, which, admittedly, happened quite often. While Nicky was more reserved when it came to lyrical speeches, Joe had no such qualms, and would gladly shout to the heavens–and had done so, multiple times–about his love for Nicky.

Just as he was reaching for his phone to call Copley–because clearly something had to be wrong if Joe was waxing poetic about Nicky when Nicky wasn’t even in the same building–the phone buzzed.

Nicky didn’t even have time to greet Copley before the man was launching into an explanation. “Nicky, I’m sorry, there were too many guards, Joe’s been captured. They’re holding him somewhere in the building, but I don’t have eyes inside.”

“I’m on my way.”

Sending a quick message to Nile and Booker, informing them of what happened, Nicky finished packing up his gear quickly, leaving his spot on the roof and descending the fire escape as fast–and safely, he’d be no good to Joe if he executed a swan dive off the fifth story–as possible.

***

Joe could feel his mouth filling with blood, so he leaned forward and spat some on the ground. Apparently the older man hadn’t been too pleased with being insulted, and he ordered his men to get answers out of Joe, while he watched.

The beating, while not one of the worst he’d experienced, had not been pleasant. Thankfully, the men hadn’t seemed to realize Joe was slowly healing from their attacks, but sooner or later they would get suspicious. He hoped one of the others would get here before that happened, he really didn’t like dying alone.

He’d just been punched repeatedly in the stomach when the man doing said punching stopped. Joe was confused, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about a reprieve.

“What?” Barked the older man, pushing himself off the wall and stalking forward. “What is it?” The younger man shook his head, looking around.

“Did anyone else–?”

He cuts off when a loud bang sounds from outside the door. All of the men turn to look at the door, missing as a smile spreads across Joe’s bloody lips. Another bang sounds, louder than before, closer than before, and some of the men jump.

“What do you think it is?” One of them whispers, and before anyone can answer, something heavy slams into the bolted door from the outside. The whole door seems to shake in it’s frame, and it’s only made worse by the sudden scream of pain.

There’s a sudden onslaught of noise, bangs, screams, gunshots, and crashes and–was that a cat screeching? The men all back away slowly from the door, hands on their weapons, but nothing could have prepared them for the way the door was blasted off its hinges, flying into the room and taking out two of the men.

There’s a sudden burst of gunfire, taking out three more of the men before they can react. Watching their companions fall around them, the remaining four men all aim for the door, shooting wildly at a target they can’t even see. The older man, the leader, unlocks Joe’s cuffs only to pull him upright, pressing a knife against his neck, using Joe’s body as a human shield.

Joe rolls his eyes. If only this man knew how ineffective Joe would be at being a human shield. He watches with interest as the men stop firing, only for a knife to fly through the air and embed itself in one of the guard’s skulls. The others start firing again, but even though it's three against one, they’re no match for a furious Nicolo di Genova. Bursting into the room in a flurry of movement, Joe watches, fascinated–and more than a little turned on–as Nicky becomes a whirlwind, attacking violently with his longsword, cutting down the three men–with violent efficiency–who stand between him and Joe.

The older man presses his blade tighter against Joe’s neck, but Nicky doesn’t even blink. Joe stomps on the man’s foot, and Nicky puts a bullet in his brain, quick as you please. The knife cuts Joe as he moves, but it’s certainly not life-threatening, so he’s unconcerned.

Joe looked around the room, taking in the blood and guts and gore that decorate the white walls and floor and ceiling. “I told them that white was a bad choice, blood stands out far too much–” Nicky strides across the room, and kisses Joe hard, before he can get another word out. Joe grasps Nicky’s face with his blood covered hands, bringing him even closer, moaning as his beloved steals the breath from his lungs.

Nicky pulls away, but only just, his forehead resting against Joe’s. “Yusuf, amore mio, are you badly hurt?” His eyes rove over Joe’s face, checking for any and all injuries.

“No, habibi,” Joe sighs. “The marks those men left are quickly fading. I am alright.” Nicky kisses Joe again, uncaring of the fact that Joe’s lips still taste of blood.

They stand there for longer than they probably should, and when they finally part, Joe asks the question that had been pestering him since he first became aware of Nicky’s arrival. “How did you know so quickly, Nicolo? They’ve had me for less than an hour.”

The look on Nicky’s face is one of fond exasperation, one that Joe has been privy to many, many times. “You were being incurably romantic again, weren’t you?”

Joe grins, his eyes shining as he looks at his love. “They dared insult you in my presence, hayati. Besides, you love it.”

Nicky sighs. “I do.”

Joe cups his face once more and kisses him, pouring nine hundred years of love and affection and desire into the kiss. He would defend his Nicolo to the ends of the earth, against anyone and anything that dared try to come between them.

***

“I do not understand, Nile. Why do you keep referring to me as a cross between a human and an arachnid?”

“You have spidey sense Nicky, of course I’m going to call you Spiderman! Except instead of sensing danger, you sense whenever Joe’s delivering a love speech worthy of Shakespeare!”

“Hey! Do not compare me to that jumped-up English playwright–”

“Shut up, Joe!”

#The Old Guard #Joe x Nicky #Fluff #Not even really any angst #Like joe gets captured?#but he's not worried?#joe is an incurable romantic #nicky loves it #nile thinks it's fucking hilarious #writing #fics

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raevenlywrites · 3 years

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Get to Know Raev

Thanks for the tag @apollonkondric

1. Why did you choose your URL? - Cause I'm a Raeven, and the things I write are very Raevenly (also its a nickname from my wife)

2. Any side blogs?

@raevenlywrote is my wips only sideblog, so folks who wanted to put notifs on but didn't want to be overwhelmed by nonsense had options

@raevenlyrites is my witchblr that I never remember to post to

@artrefsforlove is where I keep art stuff, mostly cool pictures my wife might like to watercolor

@worldbuildingwedasks is a community hub for reblogging open asks for Worldbuilding Wednesday, and also recently just cool inspiring worldbuilding stuffs

and also @wip119 is technically still a thing? It started out as kind of like a writing advice shitposting silliness

3. How long have you been on tumblr? I had a tumblr back in college, @acorvidsnest, but then like school do it ate all my time and quite frankly I don't even remember what email it was under but there's my blast from the past if yall wanna go take a look

4. Do you have a queue tag? - Yes? But I don't remember what it is, because I never use it? queuex4 maybe? idk

5. What did you originally start this blog for? - To promote my web serial, In Search of Asylum. It didn't get the traction I wanted, but I learned a lot from it and I've made a lot of fun friends in the writeblr community so I'll count it as a win

6. Why did you choose your icon? - It me! I very rarely feel like I look like myself in pictures, but the photo this sketch was based on really nails it (even though my hair doesn't look like that anymore)

7. Why did you choose your header? - Because my tumblr is my brain on a plate. Fun fact: Those are my hands and that is a real jello brain I made

8. What's your post with the most notes? - Lords I don't even know. Probably one where I tried to make someone else's post funnier though, like Lawful Chaotic or We Do Not Write in Notebooks (the brogle uquiz is doing pretty good atm too)

9. How many followers do you have? - somewhere over 2k? I try not to look so I don't obsess about it going up and down

10. How many blogs do you follow? - somewhere over 2k as well? Most of my followers came from follow backs when I just went through writeblr posts and went on a massive following spree :P

11. Have you ever made a sh*tpost? - I don't have the tag #raevenly shitposts for nothing

12. How often do you use Tumblr every day? - as often as I get bored

13. Have you ever had a fight with another blog? - Nah. I don't engage, I block

14. How do you feel about 'you have to reblog this' posts? - Nobody tells me what to do

15. Opinion on tag games? - love em, but it always takes me FOREVER to get around to doing them. Also I kind of loathe the long reblog chains of them, they're dash destorying and they make me think I'm getting comments on my stuff only to realize they're actually talking to someone else who's added on :(

16. Opinion on ask games? - Love em, gimmie dem asks! You don't even have to care about the answer just copy/paste a question and go on anon. You'll make someone's day just sending them a random ask :)

17. Which of your mutuals is Tumblr famous? - oh lord i have no idea

18. Do you have a crush on any of your mutuals? - I am in love with @loopyhoopywrites's creativity. Does that count?

Tagging: Anyone who'd like to do it! I should be going to bed instead of playing on tumblr XD

#tag games #open tag #tag you're it

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snowdice · 2 years

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 97]

I have no idea how long I’ll work. I’m currently stuck waiting for a ride. So *big shrug.*

Chapter 46 (Patton)

“Alright, that’s enough of that for today,” Mr. Deknis said once Virgil finished brushing off the paste that had been applied to remove rust from a hoe.

“Are you sure?” Virgil asked. “I have more time to work. Even if you need to go, I can still work on something. Unless you don’t want me messing with things without supervision…”

“I’m not telling you to leave, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a half-smile. “I just thought you might want to help me out with something else today.”

“Oh, okay. Sure,” Virgil agreed, sounding just a touch excited.

“Let’s put all of this away,” Mr. Deknis said.

Patton didn’t always come with Virgil when he was helping Mr. Deknis. Sometimes Logan would come instead, and Virgil had been coming alone with increasing frequency over the last month or so.

He seemed to like it. He always seemed to look forward to spending time with Mr. Deknis and not only because Mr. Deknis often bribed him with snacks of dried or pickled fruits and vegetables.

Virgil looked up at him, eyes wide.

Mr. Deknis smiled at him. “Would you like to?”

“I…” Virgil said. “I wouldn’t have any idea what to put.”

“Well, I have a few different books of plants you can flip through,” he said. “Any idea what kind of plant you’d like to grow?”

Virgil shrugged.

“Thank you,” Virgil said, eyes staring down at the field of flowers drawn on the cover of the book on the top of the stack in his arms.

“There are a lot more types of orchids than I knew there were,” Patton said.

Virgil, having already flipped through the book multiple times looking at the orchids in it, looked up at him with a bit of excitement in his eyes. “I would like that,” he said. “Yes, please.”

Mr. Deknis’ eyes softened on him, and he got to his feet. “I’ll go see what I have in the office.”

“Getting to grow something in the garden is exciting,” Patton said once Mr. Deknis left.

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. “It is.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said, taking the book. “I will see you Saturday then.”

“See you Saturday, Virgil,” he said with a smile.

Chapter 47 (Logan)

“So, cloud mites don’t exist?” Virgil confirmed yet again.

“No,” Logan said. “They don’t. In fact, their existence would go against all magical laws since they are sentient without being alive.”

“But crabs do?” Virgil asked.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Crabs do not go against the natural order of things,” Logan said.

“But why?” Virgil asked.

“I… don’t understand the question.”

“They don’t have the right number of legs.”

“W-what do you mean by that?” Logan asked, confused.

“Animals can only have an even number of legs on either side.”

“No,” Logan said. Virgil nodded vigorously. “What about beetles? Those have 6 legs. Three on each side.”

“But beetles are bug,” Virgil pointed out.

“Bugs are animals,” Logan argued.

“No, they’re not.”

His face was so serious, and he was so sure, that it was funny. “Bugs are animals,” Logan said.

Virgil seemed confused by this. “But they have 6 legs.”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Virgil, what do you think and animal is?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Virgil said, pouting slightly at being laughed at. Logan leaned over to bump their shoulder together which seemed to pacify him. “Cows. Birds. Frogs.”

“I think we need to get you a tutor. You are missing some fundamental building blocks in your education.”

He huffed, peering at the book.

“It’s no fault of your own,” Logan assured. “You are not born with information like that. People were just negligent in teaching you these things.”

Virgil nodded. “That actually reminds me of something.”

“Mmm?” Logan asked.

“There’s something I need to teach you.”

“And what would that be?” Logan asked.

“Survival instincts.”

“What?”

Virgil slammed his hand down on Logan’s desk. “You have no survival instincts,” he declared. “I bet you don’t even know what hemlock tastes like.”

“Isn’t that poisonous.”

“Yes,” Virgil said.

“Then of course I don’t know what it tastes like.”

“Exactly! That’s the problem.”

“I don’t need to know what poison tastes like, Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes, you do,” Virgil argued. “It’s an important skill.”

“I think your view of what constitutes as an ‘important skill’ may be skewed,” Logan said.

“You’re a prince,” Virgil said. “Knowing about poisons is an important skill for you.”

“It’s really not though.”

“Well, I mean…” Logan said. “You do have a point there.”

“And you need to learn how to climb things and catch things.”

“Why do I need to know how to catch things?”

“We’ve already had this discussion,” Virgil said. “In case someone throws a knife at you.”

Wait. When had they had that conversation?

“And while we’re on the topic of knives, you need to know how to use a knife effectively.”

“I know how to use a knife,” Logan claimed even though he knew he didn’t know how to use a knife in the way Virgil was talking about.

“Why does he…” Logan thought. “Because he managed to get a hit on you with a cookie sheet one time?”

“His reflexes are better,” Virgil said, “as well as his ability to use his environment to his advantage. You’re always completely oblivious about what’s going on around you.”

“Excuse me. I am incredibly observant,” said Logan.

“How many chairs are in the dinning room we walked through to get here two hours ago?” Virgil asked.

Logan thought for a moment. “I’m not sure.”

“Exactly! You walk by them every day and you don’t even know how many chairs there are in that room.”

“I have no idea what that has to do with anything.”

“How would you know if someone tampered with the chairs if you don’t know how many of them there are or their positions.”

“Tampered with the chairs?” Logan asked. “What are you talking about? I filter out unnecessary information. That doesn’t mean I’m unobservant.”

“Yes, it does,” Virgil said. “Plus, half the time you don’t even know where I am when you know I’m in the same room as you,” Virgil said.

“Well, that’s because you climb on top of things and hide in walls!” Logan said. “That’s hardly fair.”

“You mean I’m quiet and good at hiding like… an assassin might be.”

Logan pursed his lips. Virgil tilted his head and smiled at him. “I am plenty observant,” Logan insisted once again.

“Prove it,” Virgil said.

“And how should I do that?” Logan asked. “Beyond simply memorizing the furniture arrangements?”

Virgil shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll get an opportunity soon.”

Logan wished he would have been observant enough in that moment to notice the determined spark in his eyes.

Chapter 48 (Thomas)

Thomas was leaving his office when he ran into his son. Or more accurately, his son almost ran into him. “Is everything alright?” Thomas asked.

Thomas looked at him and then looked down the hallway, concerned by his strange behavior. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” Logan said, but he wasn’t letting go of Thomas’s shirt.

“You seem a bit anxious, Logan,” Thomas said.

They met eyes briefly. Virgil tilted his head at Thomas. Then, he removed one hand from the pillar. How was he up there? He made a motion with his hand that seemed to be telling Thomas to step back.

Logan gave a high-pitched shriek that Thomas didn’t think he’d ever heard from him before. “Virgil!” he yelled, now absolutely soaked.

“Learn to look up,” Virgil said seriously, still clinging to the pillar.

“I hate you,” Logan replied.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean in anger,” Thomas reminded. He was a bit worried Virgil may overreact to Logan saying things like that to him, though he seemed perfectly calm at the moment.

Logan scowled at Thomas. “You’re on his side?! He just dumped water on my head!”

“He needs to be trained to be more observant!” Virgil said.

Logan turned his scowl to Virgil. “Come down here, you intolerable creature! I’m done with your so-called training!”

“And what would you do if I did come down?” Virgil asked while arching an eyebrow, wholly unconcerned. “Quote facts about animals at me?”

Thomas was unsure what about that comment angered Logan, but it apparently did.

“You little…”

“Boys,” Thomas interrupted. “What’s going on here?”

“Okay, okay,” Thomas said, putting a hand up to tell both of them to be quiet. “One at a time. Virgil first.”

“Really?” Logan asked.

“Logan,” Thomas scolded.

He mumbled something under his breath, but he did quiet down.

“Virgil,” Thomas started again. “What’s going on?”

“I’m training him,” Virgil said.

“Training him?” Thomas asked. “Training him for what?”

“For life,” Virgil answered. “He isn’t observant enough.”

“Ah,” Thomas said, still fairly confused. “And how are you training him?”

“Right now, we’re doing situational awareness training,” Virgil said.

“And how does that translate to you dumping water on his head?” Thomas asked.

“He wouldn’t have gotten water on his head if he’d noticed me,” Virgil answered, seriously. Thomas tried not to laugh at the look on his face.

“That is, perhaps true,” Thomas said. “However, dumping water on people’s heads is not nice. Perhaps there is a nicer way to do this training?”

“People trying to kill them won’t be nice,” Virgil said.

“No one is trying to kill Logan,” Thomas said.

Virgil just pursed his lips. “Maybe,” Virgil said. “Not yet.”

“Well,” Thomas said. “It still isn’t nice to ruin someone’s day over a threat that doesn’t exist yet.”

Virgil stared down at him with skeptical eyes.

“Perhaps with tea and cookies?” Thomas suggested.

Virgil tilted his head and slid down the pillar until his feet touched the floor. “What kind of cookies?” he asked.

“We’ll have to see what Helen has made lately,” Thomas said. He turned to Logan and frowned. “You should probably change before you get sick being wet and in the cold.”

“I’ll take Virgil down to the kitchen and get some tea and cookies for all of us,” Thomas told Logan.

He gave his son a look trying to communicate ‘I’ll talk to him.’ Logan pursed his lips, but nodded, seeming to receive the message.

“Why don’t we meet you in the royal dining room, so the conversation is more private?” Thomas suggested. It would be a much calmer environment than the main dining hall or the kitchens.

“Sure,” Logan agreed, turning to walk off in the direction of the royal wing. The poor thing was huddled in on himself and cold.

Thomas looked over at Virgil and smiled at him softly as Logan left. “Let’s go see what cookies Helen has ready,” he suggested.

Chapter 49 (Virgil)

“I’m right,” Virgil insisted, and he was.

“Everyone believes they are right during a disagreement,” Thomas said. “I’m sure Logan has his own ideas about who is correct.”

Virgil frowned at him. “I am.”

“Perhaps you are both right,” the king suggested.

“But…”

“He’s the prince,” Virgil argued. “He needs to know how to protect himself in case of danger.”

“But…”

“You risk making more problems than solving with your strategy,” the king said.

“Like what?” Virgil asked.

“What’s the difference?” Virgil asked.

“Being vigilant means you are prepared for danger around every corner. Being paranoid means you are expecting danger around every corner.”

“There doesn’t seem like there’s much of a difference,” Virgil said.

“People don’t need to feel safe,” Virgil argued. “They need to be safe.”

The king stopped walking and turned to him. Virgil couldn’t help but cringe a bit as the king studied him.

“You haven’t had a chance to feel safe very often in your life, have you?” the king asked.

Virgil shrugged, looking away.

“What would make you feel safe?” Thomas asked.

“Logan being safe,” Virgil said.

“Logan is safe, Virgil,” the king tried to argue.

Virgil scowled. “I don’t trust your guards. Even the best guard won’t be able to help if Logan gets trapped alone with someone. He needs to learn self-defense.”

“Well, I’m already planning to up security in the castle when spring comes. Would me asking if he’d be willing to do self-defense training with someone help?”

Not to mention Prijaznia was less… war torn. Sure, he’d been living in the castle recently, but even in his travel to the castle, people seemed to be a bit better off.

So, maybe there were some people in the kingdom who knew what they were doing when fighting. However, Virgil wasn’t going to trust the king to pick out who should train Logan.

73711

“Okay,” Virgil said, still not happy, but knowing there wasn’t much else he could do.

“Okay,” the king agreed. They were now at the door to the kitchens “Now, let’s get those cookies.”

Chapter 50 (Patton)

“Hi, Virgil,” Patton said, walking into the room with Princess Marisol on his heels. She had been lazing in a sunny spot by a nearby window but had gotten up to follow him as he walked by.

“Hi,” Virgil replied. He closed the book and set it aside.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dovecote with me,” Patton said. “I wanted to send a letter.”

Virgil thought about it for a moment, and Patton would swear he was using some secret weather sensing mechanism in his head to check the weather before saying, “Okay.”

“If you two are going to the dovecote, would you mind taking a letter for me as well?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Of course,” Patton agreed.

Mr. Deknis turned to grab a sealed letter off his desk. “It’s for my daughter,” Mr. Deknis said. “The handlers should know the right pigeon to give it to.”

Patton nodded and took it.

“You have a daughter?” Virgil asked, sounding more surprised than Patton would have expected.

“Yes, Darlene,” Mr. Deknis said. “I’ve talked about her. I thought I’d mentioned she was my daughter.”

“I didn’t know you could have children.”

The statement clearly rang with truth to Mr. Deknis’s ears, but it didn’t make him look any less confused. “Why would you think that?” he asked.

#proofread stories #not writing

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