#Design fury solutions

[casa-domeupai]

Main bedroom update 2; Parquet Hibernation Tactics

Check out my post on what I've decided to do with the old parquet floor in my house!

Step into my home, where every room tells a story – a story of well, a parquet floor that’s seen better days. Yet another not-so-picture-perfect side of my home improvement saga. Let’s talk about this parquet floor – the one that, at first glance, might seem like a symphony of squares and brightness. But, and this is a big ‘but,’ I’ve got a confession to make. Brace yourself because, despite the…

[waterfae]

Kill My Lord Husband [Part 3]

Summary: Your father has decided to marry you off – and to a Blackwood no less! But you want nothing to do with the famously known Bloody Ben, not when your heart already belongs to another. Your solution? Kill your lord husband.

Pairings: Benjicot “Davos” Blackwood x Reader, Aeron Bracken x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, adult language, slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, arranged marriage, house-neutral fem!reader, no use of Y/N, absolute nonsense, no beta

this chapter contains a fight scene and mentions of blood

Word Count: 2.8+ K

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

Aeron’s words kept you up all night. You stared blankly up at the canopy of your four-poster bed as they circulated about your head like a fly that refused to leave no matter how many times you tried to swat it away.

Meet me by the Whispering Woods. Just outside of Mudgrave Market and pass the Widow’s Wash.

That’s all the message said. There was no flowery prose filled with apologies, grandiose love declarations, or a promise to take you away from all of this. Instructions. That’s all it was. He hadn’t even signed it. Yet, you were still overcome by the mere sight of his handwriting, satisfied to have received something – anything – from your beloved. Some semblance that you were still in his thoughts. Were you truly so desperate? You asked yourself as you gripped onto your sheets.

Yes, you decided, you were. Despite the fury that followed your tears once they were all shed – fury at his delayed response and fury at his audacity to dare request your audience after what that delay had put you through – the desire to see him was still there and it held steadfast. You wanted so badly to hold him, kiss him, and knock sense into that blonde little head of his – figuratively and literally. So, you chose to oblige.

You requested the wheelhouse from your father early the following morning after breaking your fast.

“Whatever for, sweet girl?” He asked as the pair of you walked through the halls.

“I wish to visit the nearby market.” You answered, trying your best to contain your nerves, “This will be my new home after all. A bit of exploration isn’t too much to ask, is it?”

“Hm…” He nodded contemplatively.

“Who knows,” You decided to add, hoping your next words would push him into agreement, “I might find something I could use for the wedding.”

Your father immediately perked up at the mention of your wedding. Oblivious to your hesitancy towards it and happy that you appeared to be taking your betrothal so well, he decided to grant your request, but not before adding, “You should have Benjicot accompany you.”

Your face fell and eyes bulged at his suggestion. Benjicot was the last person you needed to accompany you on this particular errand, so you quickly countered, “Is he not training this morning?” You paused, feet coming to a halt, “I would hate to interrupt.” You turned to face your father, a teasing – and fraudulent – smile on your features, “Besides, my future lord husband is a fighter. I doubt he would be of any help. Unless, of course, I were trying to procure weaponry.” You eyed his amused look before continuing, “No. What I need is the keen eye of a woman for something much more elegant. Atlanna will join me.”

It was all your father needed to hear. For when it came to you, Atlanna was one of the few people in all of Westeros that he could trust. With a kiss upon your cheek, he bid you safe travels and enjoyment during your trip to Mudgrave. You and Atlanna took off for the market town not long after, keen to get to the designated meeting place as quickly as possible. You couldn’t bare to waste even a second; you planned to squeeze as much time as you could from Aeron. As much as the gods would allow. You figured they at least owed you this.

Once you arrived, the two of you parted ways; Atlanna to the market to pass time and wait for your return and you to the Whispering Woods to meet with your Bracken knight. It remained overcast during your little excursion and you wondered – while you traipsed through mud as you made it across the Widow’s Wash – if rain would ever fall. Atlanna had mentioned a storm brewing during your journey to Raventree Hall. You remembered her words, yet here you were still waiting for one to arrive.

Pass the bank and through a short field, you finally found yourself standing before the chosen site and cautiously entered through the trees. You needn’t venture too far when the sound of rustling came from behind you, which caused you to spin in your boots. Emerging from behind several low-hanging branches was Aeron, clad in his house color of gold with the red stallion imprinted upon his tabard. The moment you recovered from your daze at the sight of him, you immediately ran towards your knight and leaped into his arms, wrapping your own around him and burying your face into his tresses. He tightened his hold on you.

“Reckless fool.” You said through tears and nuzzling your face into his neck, “You’re usually more prudent than this. Crossing onto Blackwood land. And not even disguised!”

“Desperate times, my lady.” He whispered while caressing your hair.

“And yet you waited over a sennight.” You snapped back, untangling yourself from him and lightly striking him in the chest with a loose fist.

“It was not my wish, I assure you.” He said, desperately reaching for you again, “Once news broke of your engagement, my Uncle Amos had me closely watched.” You evaded his grasp as he attempted to explain further, “He knew of my wish to marry you!” That made you pause and you looked at him, heart pounding at his words. His uncle knew? That would mean he had actually spoken to Lord Bracken of his intentions towards you. It just further complicated your feelings, this newfound knowledge, and you weren’t certain if it was happiness or dread that made your heart race; happiness in knowing that his intentions had been true, dread in knowing that in spite of it all, you were betrothed to someone else.

Aeron’s voice cut through your thoughts, “I was only recently able to get away…for a moment.” He reached out to cup your face when you stopped evading him and brought you closer to press his forehead against yours.

“Only a moment?” You questioned, leaning into him, “Are you not here to claim me? To take me away from this place and make me your wife instead?”

He pulled away and looked into your eyes, worry etched on his features, “Do you wish to start a war?”

You shook your head in reply. Of course you didn’t want to start a war, but you also didn’t want this deplorable reality you were currently facing. You clung onto him then, his tabard scrunched up in the tightness of your grip, as you pathetically begged, “Fix this, Aeron.”

“How?”

Defeated, you gave no answer because you didn’t know either. Instead, you voiced what you had been wanting to say to him ever since your father announced your betrothal to the Blackwood heir.

“You should have asked for my hand.”

He did not even attempt to deny his failings, “I should have.”

“I should be marrying you.”

“You should.”

“If you weren’t going to do anything, why even come? Why are you here?”

Your ire had grown. It grew still when your question was met with silence. You stared up at him, searching his face for anything that might give away his thoughts on the matter. He appeared to be searching for an answer himself, so you gave him a few more moments in hope that he would find it. He looked increasingly lost as time passed and when the silence persisted, you felt your resolve wane and loosened your grip. Disappointment settled and took root in your heart. With nothing more to lose, you decided to say one more thing you had long kept within your heart.

“I know your uncle does not approve of me...because of my father’s friendship with the Blackwoods, but you could’ve at least tried to fight for this. For us.”

“It’s not that simple –” He began, but you interrupted him.

“Aeron Bracken, you are a coward.” Your arms dropped to your sides and allowed your eyes to fall away from him. Dejected, you repeated the words, “You’re a coward.” The tears didn’t fall, but they could be heard in your voice.

He called your name then. Once. Then twice. You could hear the pleading in them, but you refused to respond. He still held your face in his hands and that hold became more firm, urging you to face him. Aeron slightly bent at his knees to better level himself to your eyes and get you to look at him. He called your name once more, leaning in closer. You did not look up but instead let your eyelids fall shut. He leaned in further, nearly closing the gap between you two. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You could almost feel his lips on yours...

And then came the snap of a twig.

The two of you jumped, startled by the intrusion and quickly moved away from each other, but it was too late. You were already seen. Benjicot stood before the two of you with three other Blackwood men behind him, their eyes all on Aeron. You locked eyes with Benjicot when he turned his gaze towards you and were surprised to find that they were not the same stormy ones you were drowning in the day you had arrived. There was something else swirling behind them. It was not just a simple anger, it seemed...unhinged. Your breath caught in your throat once the thought occurred: this was not Benjicot who stood before you. This was Bloody Ben.

“You’re on the wrong side of the boundary stones, Bracken.”

You noticed Aeron’s hand go to the hilt of his sword. Ben must have noticed it as well because he immediately unsheathed his. Without much thought, you moved to stand between him and Aeron, shielding Aeron from his sword. Aeron grabbed onto your arm in protest, trying to pull you behind him, but you refused to budge.

Ben let out a laugh and gestured towards Aeron while addressing his comrades, “Fucking craven needs a woman to interfere with his battles.” They laughed along with him as he turned his attention back to Aeron, “Are you even truly a knight?” He did not give time for him to respond and then he acknowledged you, features turning dark with a frown, “You’re suppose to be at the market with Atlanna, according to your father.” He stepped towards you, arm outstretched with sword still in hand, “Is he the reason for your hesitation?” He used the tip of it to tilt up your chin, “Is he the reason why you’re so angry with the gods?”

You gulped, anxious of what his next actions might be, but you stood your ground, fiercely returning his gaze. You did not satisfy him with an answer. This displeased him even further, his knuckles turning white from gripping onto his weapon so tightly. His eyes darted from you to Aeron for several more moments, then scoffed, “I do not wish for a wife so sullied.” He paused to catch your gaze in scrutiny. You’d expected to see more anger in them, but were stunned to see nothing of the sort. What you saw instead was hurt. “Poisoned by House Bracken.” He added.

Your jaw dropped and let out a gasp. Firstly, at the accusation of somehow being damaged, despite your virtue being completely intact. Such allusions were a disrespect to you and a disrespect to Aeron and you were shocked Ben would say such a thing. And secondly, for the sting you had not expected to feel in your heart upon hearing him echo the words he spoke just last night of the great weirwood tree.

It was Aeron’s turn to unsheathe his sword, offended for you as soon as the words left Ben’s mouth. “How dare you?” He growled, pointing his sword at Ben, “I will not allow you to sully her name with such lies.” Ben’s men soon followed suit, unsheathing and pointing their own swords at Aeron as he continued to defend your honor, regardless of his disadvantage, “Your betrothed is a proper lady. You will respect her.”

Ben smirked, more amused than threatened, “You dare point your sword at me?” He relaxed and brought his sword down to his side as he snickered, then motioned to his men. They lowered their swords and slowly stalked towards you and Aeron. Panic filled you as one of them grabbed onto your arm and began to pull you away. The others disarmed Aeron and with a few blows, brought him to his knees.

“Wait...NO!” You exclaimed, realizing what was happening. You struggled against your captor’s hold, who quickly wrapped his arms around your arms and torso, lifting you slightly to drag you a distance. “Stop it!” You screamed, upon hearing the sound of Aeron’s groans as they began to beat him. “Leave him alone!”

“Don’t worry. We won’t kill him.” Ben assured you in an upbeat manner, as if what was unfolding was a normal, everyday occurrence, “But he does have to be punished for trespassing.” He gave Aeron a swift kick to the stomach.

You continued to cry out, pleading for them to stop their assaults as they took turns punching and kicking at him. The sight of Aeron defenseless and bleeding sent you into a feral frenzy. With adrenaline pumping through your veins, you began to kick and thrash around hoping somehow your actions would lead to your escape.

“Mad bitch.” Ben’s gaurd said through gritted teeth, using every bit of strength to keep you in his clutches.

“LET! ME! GO!” You shouted in between snarls. You kicked your feet up into the air and brought as much force your body could muster, using your weight to swing back down to hopefully flip him over you. It didn’t quite work, but it did manage to force him to readjust his hold, which brought his upper extremities that much closer to your mouth and when the opportunity came, you were able to capture one of his hands between your teeth. You chomped down with all your might causing him to yelp out in pain; it only encouraged you to bite down even harder. He finally let go once you had drawn blood.

Free and with blood smeared across your lips, you let out a battle cry and charged towards Ben. He turned at the sound of your yells, but not fast enough. He caught a quick glance of your bloodied visage before your body collided with his, knocking the wind out of him and sending you both to the muddy floor. There would be no saving you from the mess this time and you honestly didn’t care as the two of you landed with a SPLAT, him on his back and you on top of him. You quickly scrambled to your knees, straddling him and grunting as you tried to pin down his arms.

He laughed.

“This fucking cunt.” You thought as the two of you grappled with each others arms. He was laughing. He found this amusing. It was maddening and angered you further to see his stupid grin on his stupid face. You wanted to be the one to smack it clean off. You continued to wrestle with him, your hair fallen out of its ribbons and your face covered in both blood and mud. He wasn’t even using his full strength and you knew it. He was mocking you.

Eventually, he managed to catch your wrists. With a firm grasp, he was able to pull you towards him, your faces mere inches from each other. He leered up at you, his smile leaving you perturbed. “There you are.” He whispered, licking his lips, “I knew you were still in there somewhere.” The comment caught you off guard, even more so when he repeated your own words from last night, “You and your uncouth behavior.”

You sputtered unintelligible sounds in response and it was enough for him to get the upper hand. He thrust his hips up, causing you to fall forward, and used the momentum to flip your positions. The mud squelched beneath you as he pinned you down. “You are already promised to me.” He said lowly, “Nothing is going to change that, so it’s best you stop fighting it.” He then released you and heaved himself up. He offered assistance with an extended arm, which you swatted away opting to help yourself up, despite being weighed down by your now wet and muddy dress.

Ben turned his attention back to Aeron, picking up his fallen weapon as he strode in his direction. He looked down at the Bracken – who was strewn across the woodsy floor, weak, bloodied, and aching from his beating – with the sword pointed his chest. He spat out a warning, “Do not dare cross the boundary stones again.” He said nothing more and spun on his heel, ready to leave the Whispering Woods behind.

You hastily maneuvered past Ben and dropped down beside Areon, lifting him as carefully as possible and cradled him in your lap. Tears began to fall from your eyes. Tears of anger. Of hatred. You looked up from your knight and stared daggers into the back of your betrothed.

How you longed for literal daggers.

a/n: I’m on vacation right now and headed for Japan tomorrow, so I apologize if it seemed rushed, especially at the end. I just wanted to get it out before then. This took longer than I initially intended because rather than editing, I ended up practically rewriting the whole chapter. lol. I'm still not completely satisfied with it tbh, but this version was much better. Please enjoy! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and my askbox is always open. ♡

taglist: @pantheonofbeauty @cregansfourthwife @spicyteaandcrumpets @accidentpronedork @cococrazy18

@witch-moon-babe @a-romantic-twst @flusteredmoonn @nixtape-foryou @flowerprincezz

@trouble-sistar @username199945 @claire-loves-music @lady-dragon-rider @spider-stark

@moonnicole @hardkiddonut @xlittlefiend

[fbfh]

dad!tony + stark!reader growing up/childhood hcs

wc: 1.4k

genre: fluff, a little angst, preventative hurt/comfort, family/domestic bliss

pairing: dad!tony + kid!stark!reader, gen 1 ironfam (tony, pepper, rhodey, happy) + reader

warnings: Tony loved your mom and thinks you look like her, your mom is not in the picture (open to interpretation), takes place in the early 2010s, mentions of iron man 1 - 3 and the first avengers movie, tony's a good dad, brief mentions of kidnapping/attacks/general danger, tony found out he had a kid and took you in backstory, bonding, tony's a good dad, did I mention Tony's a good dad

a/n: oh boy did this make me feel things lol. self shipping to cope hours who's with me.

@yesv01 @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @babiesimagines @lizziebitch33 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl  @dustyinkpages @liberty-barnes

Knowing what Tony’s like

And we all know what he’s like

The odds are if you’re his kid that he did not know you existed for at least a couple years

(I also like this backstory most bc it puts you roughly in the same age group as Peter and Harley and yall already know how I feel about that)

Your mom is probably someone that caught his attention and heart during his playboy era then disappeared

A few years later 

You or turn up with a very detailed letter from your mom addressed to him

And you look so much like her it knocks the air right out of him

You also look so much like him too

You have all of his sass and intelligence and mannerisms 

It’s shocking at first

You probably came into his life some time after he became iron man but before the avengers were formed

Early 2010s yk 

Which means you actually have a little time to settle into your new life before shit hits the fan again

You know the whole “I’m trying to break generation cycles” thing he has with Peter in homecoming?? 

He has that exact same talk with you

He does so much research and a fuck ton of self reflection on how to raise a kid 

And really be present for them

It's a very spicy emotional time for both of you 

Because he realizes he needs to deal with all the unresolved shit he's been suppressing and ignoring 

And you're trying to deal with the fact that up until now, you really weren't being taken care of like you should have been 

And you're both trying to deal with how scary and dangerous all of the new threats out there are as Fury presses Tony to join the avengers

But you make it work

Because Tony is not giving up on you

And he's not resting until you're totally happy and comfortable and safe with all your needs met

The first time you call him dad?????

He has to try so hard not to cry

He's just so proud of you 

And he loves you so much

He gets that feeling whenever you call him dad

Even when you say it every day 

Even when you introduce him as your dad 

And reference him as your dad 

No matter how often it happens

He never stops getting that feeling

He majorly prioritizes making sure you have a good education too

And that you’re really getting something out of it

Whatever the best solution for you is, you’ll figure it out

While I love the idea of little baby stark just showing up to class in like 3rd grade and being like “this is my dad’s old prosthetic heart it’s a miniature arc reactor he built in a cave when he was kidnapped by terrorists” then proceeding to explain to your whole class and teacher how he designed built and powered the first draft of his suit, and how the electromagnet keeps the shrapnel in his chest from killing him 

Or Tony calling you in sick and you show up a few days later sunkissed with souvenirs from the gorgeous tropical island he took you to “on business” 

After getting separated and having both your lives threatened during the battle of manhattan and the surrounding events

And after getting attacked (again) and not knowing you thought he was dead during the whole ordeal with Killian

He’s going to want to keep you close to him

You can’t get kidnapped or hurt or attacked if you’re near enough for him to keep you safe

And he can’t get kidnapped or hurt or attacked if you’re close by enough to make sure he’s really doing okay

After all the shit you’ve both been through you’ll probably both end up with a lot of anxiety and attachment issues 

But he works together with you to come up with plans for pretty much everything and every eventuality

Even if you know it might not help change the fact that there will be more fights to take on in the future, having a plan for keeping you safe during them makes you both feel a lot more better

And knowing he’s planned for every eventuality takes a huge weight off Tony’s mind too

Which means he can fight even better and save the world with a little more security knowing you’re okay now, and you’re going to be okay when he’s done with whatever problem he’s dealing with

So practically speaking he’ll probably get you a private tutor

Maybe online classes or homeschooling if those end up working better

But he’ll have Pepper find him some good candidates, then grill the living shit out of them

He’ll figure out their communication styles, their teaching styles, and generally if they pass the vibe test

When he finds someone who will actually be able to help you learn, they have to train a lot before they start tutoring you

The last thing he wants is for learning to become a source of distress for you instead of a tool to empower you

Plus having a tutor he can drag along with you means you have even more freedom to jet all over the world so he can surprise you with trips without either of you worrying about you falling behind

And speaking of empowering you

There is absolutely zero chance you’re not learning self defense and how to fight

He somehow helps you skip past the “wow self defense is scary” part right into the “wow this is super empowering and I feel safer and more secure since I started learning how to do this” part

Once you fly through the ranks of a bunch of different self defense and martial arts and fighting styles 

Then you start doing hero training

He makes you a suit that’s armed to the teeth

And also safety protocoled to the teeth

“For emergencies only.” 

After many, many safety talks, now you get to move onto the fun part

He gets to teach you how to use it

Neither of you can deny how much fun it is learning how to blast lasers from your palms or shoot rockets out of your wrists

He literally gets to teach you how to fly

It feels magical

It really feels magical watching you

His kid

Literally learn to fly with his help

God he’s just so proud of you

He loves you so much

Between the traveling and the privacy issues and the safety concerns, anything else you do 

Any skills or extracurriculars or hobbies 

Will also probably be from a tutor or private instructor too

One of his love languages is gift giving

He’s really looking forward to when you’re old enough for him to just hand you a credit card so he can see what you find when you come back

But until then he gets to spoil the shit out of you

Real talk he’s not going to stop spoiling you when you’re old enough to shop for yourself anyway

He loves the way your face lights up when he surprises you with something really cool

Trips, events, gadgets he made you

Anything you could conceptually want or imagine

All he has to do is wave his magic wand and now you have hyper realistic rainbow silicone mermaid tails for when you go swimming 

You have a secret reading room hidden in the back of your closet that you access by pulling a book on a shelf

He even has a toy made after you in your favorite toy line 

Barbies, american girls, legos, action figures

Or whatever your favorite toy/figurine is

He surprises you with a new one that looks just like you

And you lose your shit

Because who wouldn’t

What can he say

Tony loves spoiling you

Your existence is the greatest thing he could ever hope for

You are the most important beloved cherished thing in his life

All he wants is to keep you safe and happy and well taken care of 

And maybe a little pampered and spoiled

But you deserve it

You deserve to have the world handed to you

Which is exactly what he intends to do

[midnightscramble]

Heyy, could you make an Violet bridgerton x maid please??

Good luck, Maid! Part 1 (Violet Bridgerton x fem!Reader)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

The Masterlist

Author's Note: So, so many creative liberties were taken, if it is not to your liking feel free to request a part 2 with a more detailed ask (don't be shy!) Happy readings to you.

Summary: Violet is in need of a new maid, Eloise implores the help of Miss y/n. Violet turns to a friend as she digests the new feelings being spurred on by y/n.

Warnings: slight internalized homophobia, age gap relationship, SFW, no Beta read

Anthony stormed into the drawing room in a fury, causing the rest of the Bridgerton family to look up from their places and the mindless chatter to cease.

“Mother, I’ve fired Miss Smith- she has irrevocably disrespected our family name. I’ve heard talk amongst the staff that she has been selling old clothes and pocketing the money.” 

Somewhat still startled, Violet looked upon her son with a grimace, “but what shall I do about the Kent’s ball tonight? I still need to get ready, and I hardly look presentable as is.” She pursed her lips in thought and turned her gaze to the rest of the room.

Before she could speak again, a very eager Eloise offered, “well that is simply unacceptable, you should have Miss Y/n help dress you tonight. However, dressing both you and I would pose a challenge to a timely arrival���So it would be most sensible if I did not accompany you tonight-“

Violet gently raised her hand, and smiled fondly at her daughter’s blatant attempt to weasel her way out of going, “That is a very generous offer, Eloise. Although, don’t let my acceptance be misconstrued, I am aware you look for any excuse to avoid these events.” Eloise shrunk slightly at getting caught but a closed mouth smile pulled across her face at her own victory.

“Thank you, Mother” she patted Violet’s hand and went to stand, “and not to worry, I will tell Miss Y/n of tonight’s change.”

…

Violet sat on her bed awaiting Miss Y/n’s arrival. She had only ever caught glimpses of the young maid. Eloise preferred to be alone most of the day and used her brothers as chaperones, so Y/n’s job had been significantly reduced, allowing her to spend the bulk of the day in the staff quarters.

She knew her daughter despised having social responsibilities, and with her upcoming trip to Scotland perhaps she would relieve her from forced outings until the departure. Such would free Miss Y/n to be the semi permanent solution to Miss Smith’s firing. 

In quiet reflection, she smoothed her hand across the comforter, tracing the designs. As busy as she kept herself, she could not ignore the subtle emptying of her house. While winter brought shorter days to the Ton, days spent by herself seemed to drudge towards the sweet relief of sleep. Although she loved Hyacinth and Gregory, their company could become quite tedious when their insistent arguments became less amusing and more predictable. Benedict was rarely home and when he was he joined the sibling banter. No matter where she went, a dreadful feeling of isolation followed.

Lost in thought, she did not respond to the initial knock at her door, “My lady, may I come in?” The muffled voice of Miss Y/n broke her from her trance. She rose from the bed in a hurry, “Yes, please do.” 

She stood with her hands clasped neatly in front of her, watching the door open with great anticipation. Miss Y/n’s face was revealed, and Violet’s mouth opened slightly. As if the world had slowed she watched Miss Y/n enter. Eloise’s maid was quite pretty. Her eyes held a wisdom that was uncommon for her age, and lacked the cruelty that usually accompanied it. 

Time quickly caught up with Violet as Miss Y/n stood in front of her, awaiting instruction. Violet smiled awkwardly and lowered her eyes, which proved to be a mistake as she looked upon Miss Y/n’s figure.

Stuttering slightly, “let us start with hair shall we”, Violet motioned towards her vanity and in a few short strides took a seat.

“Yes, my lady,” with expertise and nimble fingers Y/n plucked the pins holding Violet’s hair up, causing waves of the light brown locks to cascade down. 

Violet watched the young woman work through the mirror. She found herself entranced by the graceful movements of hands and suddenly envisioned them tangled in her hair, tugging her head back to expose her neck. She took in a sharp breath, surprised by the vivid imagery. Her eyes closed as she tried to ground herself. She felt her face get hot and opened her eyes quickly, and to her utter horror, her cheeks burned a bright red. 

It confused her, how could the simple presence of Y/n make her imagination run errant? Violet sat dumbfounded, perhaps her loneliness had caught up with her. She made a note to spend ample time with Lady Danbury after this, she was obviously feeling a deficit in emotional intimacy if her mind was playing such tricks on her.

…

Once at the ball, Violet let Hyacinth and Gregory run off with the Kent children to the garden, while she herself made haste to Lady Danbury.

“Ah Violet, wonderful to see you.” Lady Danbury smiled lightly and looked out at the crowd of young people dancing, “interesting how they can touch and dance so openly, yet it would be the talk of the Ton if they were to hold gazes too long in the courtyard.”

Violet laughed absently still thinking about the way Y/n hands flittered through her hair, “Yes. Interesting indeed, Agatha.” 

Lady Danbury glanced at her from the side, sensing her distractedness, reaching her hand out to Violet’s shoulder in concern she said “Violet, is something the matter…” 

It was the clear affection from a woman so formidable to the Ton that made Violet realize she was in fact not in a deficit of any kind. What she had felt for Miss Y/n today was a rather unique, isolated experience.

“Actually…” Violet pursed her lips and looked over her shoulder briefly, “shall we tour the gardens?” 

Catching on, Lady Danbury hummed in agreement, lacing their arms together as they began their walk, getting away from prying eyes. Once in the garden, Violet let out a sigh, unsure of how to phrase this.

“I felt something strange today,” Violet’s whispered words were almost carried away by the wind.

Ears peaked, Lady Danbury widened her eyes in questioning, “Should I presume this is about our earlier discussion of a certain garden being in bloom?”

With a guffaw, Violet nodded abashedly, “You always shock me with your blatancy, but yes, in a way it is about…that.”

In jest, Lady Danbury motioned towards the flora and fauna of the Kents grounds, “Well, have you found someone to tend your garden?” 

Violet laughed, “Not quite, I am afraid things are quite complicated.”

“Do you like them?” Lady Danbury questioned. 

“I am not sure…” came Violet’s quiet response. 

“Do they like you?” she tried again.

“Good heavens, most likely not.”

“Hmm complicated indeed.” She finally agreed. “I can only advise you to pursue what makes you happy, but you must know what that in itself is, Violet.”

Violet nervously sucked in a breath of the cool night air, “What if it were something unspeakable?”

“Why, Violet, I’d be impressed,” she laughed and grabbed Violets hands in sincerity, “We have all done unspeakable things, however between friends the unspeakable can be spoken without fear of judgment.”

Looking into her friend’s eyes, she squeezed the other woman’s hands, “You are a good friend, Agatha. For now I have nothing of tangibility to speak of... However, I may ask you to tea in the near future if that would be alright?”

“That would be perfectly fine, my dear, shall we head back to the party?”

“We shall.”

[estellan0vella]

Fists of Fury Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

The parlour buzzes with its usual hum of music and low chatter. You sit in the main area, sketching out a new tattoo design while Yuji and Megumi play nearby. The boys' laughter and playful banter bring a lighthearted energy to the room, their joy infectious. Sukuna, Toji, Geto, and Gojo are out back, taking a smoke break, and you can hear their muffled voices through the closed door.

Everything seems perfectly normal until you feel a familiar, dreaded sensation creeping up on you. Your vision blurs and your muscles start to twitch involuntarily. You've had seizures before, and you recognize the signs immediately. Panic flares in your chest, but before you can react, the seizure hits full force.

You collapse onto the floor, your body convulsing violently. Yuji and Megumi's eyes widen in fear as they rush to your side. Yuji tries to stay calm. "Megumi, we need to get her on her side!" he says, his small hands trembling as he tries to position you safely.

Megumi, just as scared but determined, nods and helps Yuji. They manage to get you onto your side, ensuring your airway is clear. The boys have seen this before; they know what to do. But before they can fully secure you, a client approaches, panic written all over his face.

"She needs something in her mouth so she doesn't bite her tongue!" the man insists, pulling out a pen from his pocket. Yuji and Megumi shout in unison, "No! Don't!"

Megumi, driven by a fierce protectiveness, lunges at the man, his small fists striking out. "Get away from her!" he shouts, his punches landing with surprising force for a four-year-old. The client, startled and defensive, pushes Megumi aside, and in the struggle, the pen lid slips into your mouth.

Yuji's scream pierces the air. "You're going to kill Y/N/N!" His scream alerts the men outside, and within moments, Sukuna, Toji, Geto, and Gojo burst into the room, their expressions a mix of anger and fear.

Sukuna's eyes darken with rage as he takes in the scene. "What the hell is going on?" he demands, his voice a dangerous growl.

"She has something in her mouth!" Yuji cries, tears streaming down his face.

Gojo kneels beside you, trying to carefully pry your mouth open without causing more harm. Toji and Geto assist, holding you steady while Sukuna, his hands steady despite his panic, uses his fingers to fish out the pen lid. It's a tense, delicate operation, but they manage to retrieve it.

"Get her medication," Sukuna orders, his voice tight with urgency. Gojo grabs the midazolam solution from your bag, placing it against the sides of your gums and cheek to ensure it absorbs quickly into your bloodstream.

Once the medication is administered, they gently roll you onto your side to prevent any chance of you choking on the blood from the cuts in your mouth. Sukuna's hand strokes your hair, his touch tender despite his earlier fury.

Slowly, you begin to come around, your body still weak but the seizure finally abating. Your vision clears, and you see the concerned faces of your loved ones hovering above you. Sukuna's eyes soften as he sees you're coming back to them. "Hey, babe," he murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "You scared us there."

Gojo examines the cuts on and in your mouth, making sure they're not too severe. "You've got some impressive battle wounds," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

As you fully regain awareness, you hear Sukuna, Gojo, and the others starting to tease Megumi. "Fists of fury, huh?" Sukuna chuckles, ruffling Megumi's hair. "You really showed that guy."

Megumi blushes but manages a small, proud smile. "I had to protect Y/N/N."

Toji grins, pulling his son into a hug. "You did good, kid. You did real good."

Geto laughs, clapping Megumi on the back. "Remind me not to get on your bad side, Megs."

Even through the pain and exhaustion, you can't help but smile at their banter. The love and camaraderie in the room are palpable, and despite the scare, you're grateful for these moments of levity and the fierce protectiveness of your unconventional family.

PSA: If a person is ever having a seizure, NEVER put anything in their mouth. It could cause their teeth to shatter or they could choke. It does more harm then good

taglist- - @sad-darksoul @thejujvtsupost @kyo-kyo1 @kalulakunundrum @ryomku

[sagaduwyrm]

This may be an unpopular opinion, but I think that even if Jason found out about the times Bruce and Dick tried to kill the Joker he wouldn't stop being angry that the man was still alive.

It's my understanding that Jason wants the Joker dead for two reasons. One, to prove that Dick and Bruce really did care for him as more than "a good soldier." Two, so that what happened to him can never happen to anyone else. Attempting to kill the Joker in a fit of fury does fulfill the first reason, but it completely defies the second.

One of the main reasons why Jason is upset when he finds out about Tim is that "nothing changed." There is still a preteen kid flying around in tight pants, and the Joker's still there to clip the birdies wings. Generally, Jason's anger is interpreted as being upset over being replaced, but his actions suggest another reading.

Jason's modus operandi in his early Red Hood days is to kill those who cross certain lines, not to avenge the dead, but to safeguard the living. His analysis goes like this:

A criminal shows themselves to be a danger to the people of Gotham

Arresting the criminal might allow for rehabilitation, but more likely than not they won't even make it to prison with how corrupt the Gotham judicial system is. Therefore, arresting the criminal will not stop them from hurting others.

If jail was an actual option, Jason might take it. But it isn't. So in order to stop this person from hurting others, the only certain solution is to kill them.

To Jason, Bruce's rule against killing inherently means he fails to protect other people. Bruce is only temporarily stopping the problem.

Batman's philosophy is the opposite of Joker's. While the mad clown claims that one bad day can turn anyone into him, Bruce believes that anyone can become a better person if given the chance. This philosophy inherently prevents his character from killing. The character of Jason Todd is designed to expose the weaknesses in this philosophy, namely that giving someone the chance to change also gives them the chance to stay the same and continue to put others in danger.

Jason finding out about the times Bruce and Dick tried to kill the Joker wouldn't change anything. In fact, it might make things worse. Bruce and Dick only tried to kill the Joker while half out of their minds in grief and fury, and once they calmed down they felt guilty and considered their actions to be wrong. As far as Jason is concerned, they shouldn't be killing Joker because of emotion, they should be killing him because it's the only logical, certain way to prevent the Joker from hurting anyone else the way he did the second Robin. Learning about the incidents in question would just emphasize their philosophical disagreements and leave Jason feeling like the Bats have failed him all over again.

[rottown]

cw: body horror

Be forwarned!

Infection AU? How creative... anyways...

The Queen, at long last, is informed of her pawns' alligence with Wagstaff en-masse, and reaches a personal point of no return. Personally slighted by the act of defiance, and enraged at their disregard of her apparent benevolence, her radiance comes to a sound-minded solution to the issue at hand. In her fury, Queen Charlie unleashes upon the survivors a plague borne of her own affliction. Parasitic extensions of Them spread by fuel globules, blood, and saliva, the queen's blight acts as her grand retribution for her pawns so much as thinking of defying her. Local flora and fauna begin cropping up with the typical traits of blight, and Willow, ever the fearless, finds herself face-to-face with her blighted benevolence. Lulled in by her charm, Willow is the first human infected with the queen's parasitic plague. The survivors soon realize something is amiss with Willow, and attempt to confront the distressed arsonist. She, in response, lashes out and ends up injuring Wilson. This uncharacteristic act of aggression leads to said scientist beginning research alongside Wickerbottom and Wanda. The infection, they find, ravages the body of the blighted, leaving little in the way of autonomy. The parasite grows rapidly, contorting and overtaking the host body, most prominently in the area where they were infected. Those infected seem to mirror the lady of the night, though far more... animalistic. Research is on-going, and the world grows (quite literally) duller around them. Strange nettles and bramble resembling rose thorns are beginning to overtake their farms and flora... only time will tell what'll become of this facet of the Constant.

Here's the first three designs of the AU, again, some body horror. More info will roll out... shortly, I swear !! Primarily stages/symptoms/ more character sheets, but for the time being my ask box is open to any unanswered questions

[haggishlyhagging]

Radical feminism remained the hegemonic tendency within the women's liberation movement until 1973 when cultural feminism began to cohere and challenge its dominance. After 1975, a year of internecine conflicts between radical and cultural feminists, cultural feminism eclipsed radical feminism as the dominant tendency within the women's liberation movement, and, as a consequence, liberal feminism became the recognized voice of the women's movement.

As the preceding chapters have shown, there were prefigurings of cultural feminism within radical feminism, especially by 1970. This nascent cultural feminism, which was sometimes termed ‘female cultural nationalism’ by its critics, was assailed by radical and left feminists alike. For instance, in the December 1970 issue of Everywoman, Ann Fury warned feminists against "retreating into a female culture":

“Like other oppressed [sic], we have our customs and language. But this culture, designed to create the illusion of autonomy, merely indicates fear. Withdraw into it and we take our slavery with us. . . . Furthermore when we retreat into our culture we cover our political tracks with moralism. We say our culture is somehow "better" than male culture. And we trace this supposed superiority to our innate nature, for if we attributed it to our powerlessness, we would have to agree to its dissolution the moment we seize control. . . . When we obtain power, we will take on the characteristics of the powerful. . . . We are not the Chosen people.”

Similarly, in a May 1970 article on the women's liberation movement in Britain, Juliet Mitchell and Rosalind Delmar contended:

“Re-valuations of feminine attributes accept the results of an exploitative situation by endorsing its concepts. The effects of oppression do not become the manifestations of liberation by changing values, or, for that matter, by changing oneself—but only by challenging the social structure that gives rise to those values in the first place.”

And in April 1970, the Bay Area paper It Ain't Me, Babe carried an editorial urging feminists to create a culture which would foster resistance rather than serve as a sanctuary from patriarchy:

“It is extremely oppressive for us to function in a culture where ideas are male oriented and definitions are male controlled. . . .Yet the creation of a woman's culture must in no way be separated from the political struggles of women for liberation. . . . Our culture cannot be the carving of an enclave in which we can bear the status quo more easily—rather it must crystallize the dreams that will strengthen our rebellion.”

But these warnings had little effect as the movement seemed to drift almost ineluctably toward cultural feminism. Cultural feminism seemed a solution to the movement's impasse—both its schisms and its lack of direction. Whereas parts of the radical feminist movement had become paralyzed by political purism, or what Robin Morgan called "failure vanguardism," cultural feminists promised that constructive changes could be achieved. To cultural feminists, alternative women's institutions represented, in Morgan's words, "concrete moves towards self determination and power" for women. Equally important, cultural feminism with its insistence upon women's essential sameness to each other and their fundamental difference from men seemed to many a way to unify a movement that by 1973 was highly schismatic. In fact, cultural feminism succeeded in large measure because it promised an end to the gay-straight split. Cultural feminism modified lesbian-feminism so that male values rather than men were vilified and female bonding rather than lesbianism was valorized, thus making it acceptable to heterosexual feminists.

Of course, by 1973 the women's movement was also facing a formidable backlash—one which may have been orchestrated by the male-dominated New Right, but was hardly lacking in female support. It is probably not coincidental that cultural feminism emerged at a time of backlash. Even if women's political, economic, and social gains were reversed, cultural feminism held out the possibility that women could build a culture, a space, uncontaminated by patriarchy. Morgan described women's art and spirituality as "the lifeblood for our survival" and maintained that “resilient cultures have kept oppressed groups alive even when economic analyses and revolutionary strategy fizzled.” There may even have been the hope that by invoking commonly held assumptions about women and men, anti-feminist women might experience a change of heart and join their ranks. The shift toward cultural feminism also suggests that feminists themselves were not immune to the growing conservatism of the period. Certainly, cultural feminism's demonization of the left seemed largely rooted in a rejection of the '60s radicalism out of which radical feminism evolved.

-Alice Echols, Daring to Be Bad: Radical Feminism in America: 1967-75

[sulky-valkyrie]

Happy Fridayyyyy my love

For DADWC, "You can drop the act with me." 500 words challenge ;) And bonus points for fenders, naturally

500 words on the dot of some pre-Fenders for youuuuuuu! for @dadrunkwriting screenshot snagged from this video

Another day, another set of madcap errands around Kirkwall.  Anders sat down on a crate outside Arianni's house as he and Fenris waited for her to finish telling her that Feynriel wouldn't be coming home.  They'd freed him from Varian and his men, but an untrained apostate haunted by demons even in the waking world would be dead within a week.  It was unsettling to be responsible for tearing yet another mage family apart, but this, at least, was Fenyriel's choice.  Why Fenris was here, however, was a different kind of unsettling; a puzzle Anders thought he finally knew the solution to.  "You can drop the act with me."

Fenris glanced over his shoulder.  "What act?"

"That you don't care."  Anders waved his hand vaguely.  "About other people.  You know, justice."

"Justice is a myth," Fenris snapped, then snorted.  "The one out there at least.  I'm fully aware your… passenger exists."

Anders pursed his lips.  "That's a fucking lie and you know it."

"Is it now?" he asked in that neutral tone that aggravated Anders more than actual shouting.  

It was like arguing with a brick wall, but Anders was too stubborn to stop throwing himself against it.  "Why kill Danzig if you didn't think it mattered?  Why kill Kelder, hm?  If it's not for justice, isn't it just straight up murder?"

Fenris didn't move, but somehow his posture looked more rigid.  Angry.  "I am a murderer.  Many times over.  Another body changes nothing."  

"So it doesn't matter that killing them saved others?"

"Likely not," Fenris answered.  "There will always be more like them.  I could rip out a hundred hearts like theirs and two hundred would take their place within a fortnight.  There is no justice in that."

Anders stood back up and walked around to face him.  Fenris' expression was weary and completely at odds with the indifference of his tone, as if he was discussing the weather, not slavery.  "This is exactly what I mean," he said softly.  "I know how much it hurts to care, believe me.  To admit something matters to you more than yourself."

"You know nothing about me," Fenris growled.  

Even a few weeks ago, the menace in his voice would have driven Anders to reach for his staff or pull on the Fade, ready to defend himself, potentially with extreme prejudice.  Now though, he knew better.  Fenris' hostility wasn't for him.  Not really.  It was for anyone and anything that threatened what little comfort he'd managed to claw into a life for himself.  "Maybe not," Anders agreed.  "But if it doesn't matter, why the void are you here?  Helping anyone at all?"

"Because Hawke asked."  Fenris shrugged.  "I owe her much."

"But how is that not a kind of justice?"  Anders asked, sympathy evaporating.  

He looked up, eyes bright with fury. "This is my choice, no Maker's design, no spirits.  Mine.  There may be none out there, but in here –" he thumped his hand against his armor loudly "– I honor my debts."

[shadowjax]

The Dragon’s Blade

That Beach Episode A03

Natasha Romanoff x reader/oc Oneshot

Warnings: little angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

A/N: This has to be one of my longest fics haha.

*Shares are appreciated* 5k Words

“Pack your things, guys, I just got out of a meeting with Fury and persuaded him into giving us the day off.” Tony paraded into the lounge, Morgan following right behind, dressed like they were ready to go to a tropical island. With the clap of his hands, a video of the beach played on the TV.

“Hey.” Morgan shot Tony an annoyed look and crossed her arms.

“Ok. Ok. This little rascal did all the work with her puppy eyes.” 

“Tony it’s almost noon, any place remotely tropical is hours away. Even by jet.” Bruce was seated on the couch, now annoyed his show had been turned off. He and Vison were in the middle of watching an old sitcom that Wanda had recommended.

“Which is why we’re staying overnight at a condo I just so happen to have bought years ago.” 

“Love the idea but who will take care of the city while we are gone,” Steve commented, who was in the middle of a card game with Vision, Sam, and Bucky. 

“None other than our junior counterparts, of course. C’mon, guys get packing, the jet leaves in two hours.” After scooping his child onto his shoulders, Tony exited the room, their laughter echoing throughout the hallway. Recently the tower had become a bit more crowded with all the newest recruits like Kate, Cassie, and Kamala. 

“Ohhhhh, I love building sandcastles. Now that I think about it, you’ve never been to the beach have you.” Wanda stood beside you while the two of you cleaned up from making the group breakfast. 

“No, I haven’t, it’s on my list of places to take Nat though so this works out. I hope it's too crowded with tourists but knowing Tony we’ll be on our own private sector...” 

After temporarily scarring the newest recruits during your first encounter, you realized it was time to find a solution to heal the scars across your face. The main problem was that while the serum in your veins could heal new wounds, it couldn’t fix the scars from injuries you had before it was injected. Over the past several months, you have undergone a series of procedures with Dr. Lee to improve the appearance of the scars on your face. Although certain scars may still be visible, the once vivid pink marks have now blended more effectively with your natural skin tone. This has significantly reduced their prominence, resulting in a much less noticeable appearance overall. 

“I’m glad to see the scars are healing, the doc sure knows what she’s doing. Speaking of beaches, in my opinion, they are a great place to propose to someone. Say a particular redhead.” Wanda’s eyebrows danced momentarily, causing you almost to drop a plate. “I know you’ve been thinking about it, I can see the pictures playing in your head. You practically project them!” 

“Wanda I know you mean the best, but please. It’s only a thought.” When you were younger, there were numerous things you never imagined yourself doing. Reflecting on those times now, an uncomfortable pit seems to form in your stomach when you think back on the past.

“A thought you have entertained for 3 months and many hours throughout the day.” You glanced at the ring Vision had given Wanda when he proposed. It was well crafted and clearly, Vison spent a lot of time working on the perfect design for her. A while back, you had a conversation with him about how he chose the design and gem for the ring, knowing he was the only one capable of keeping such a secret. 

Dr. Lee placed an arm around both you and Wanda’s shoulders, gently stepping in to join the conversation. “Believe me when I tell you, kid, there is nothing better than knowing you share a special bond with the one you love the most. Knowing only the two of you share this bond, to spend the rest of your lives as equals. Heck, I never thought I’d survive being a war nurse but here I am. Ring and all, with a beautiful woman I call wife.” 

“I think both of you need a new murder show to binge rather than prodding into my life.” Your comment led to a smack on the back of your head from Lee. “Well, when the world isn’t inanimate danger, what does a married woman in her late thirties do with her time, especially when she has a stable, well-paying job?" The conversation quickly ended, knowing neither of them had a good comeback, leaving you last in the dining room though packing wasn’t a tedious task for you.

~~~~

“You’re already packed, for the both of us?” You walked into Nat’s room to find a small suitcase packed, a part of you wondered if she already had this packed because she was planning something as well. “I can’t tell if you already had a getaway planned, not that I am against it.”

“Well someone had to place the thought in Morgan’s head and I knew Fury would cave. Who can say no to her.” She was dressed in mid-thigh denim shorts paired with a white and light blue striped shirt, which had a turn-down collar and was tucked in at the front. The top was left slightly unbuttoned, revealing a hint of a black two-piece bathing suit underneath. 

“My eyes are up here,” she teased with a playful smile. “You’re staring again—everything okay?” She took a seat on her bed, facing you as she gathered her hair and secured it into a half-ponytail.

“Nothing to worry about, I’m just admiring you.” You gently placed your hand in hers to guide her into a spin, then wrapped your arms around her from behind. Resting your head on her shoulder, you took in the pleasant scent of strawberries that surrounded her. 

“Are you sure, you’re behaving clingy?” She placed her hands over yours and squeezed them. 

“Do you think Clint and his family will be joining us?” Ever since the battle and his family returned, he immediately retired which was understandable. Never wanting to be away from them again. He and his family will make an appearance for any holiday events the team hosts together. When Kate first moved in to the Tower, Clint was there to help her adjust and train.

“No, he’s busy with the new livestock on the farm. Last I called he was talking about getting a couple of horses.” She squeezed your hands, “As much as I don’t want to move, we should get on the jet so we can get good seating.”

~~~

On the jet, you tried to catch up on some reading but ended up thinking about what Wanda and Lee said earlier. You could feel Wanda’s stare burning through your soul, knowing full well you were mentally projecting images aloud to her.

“I just realized something, you’ve never been to the beach right?” Nat leaned her head on your shoulder while pointing to the ocean below. 

“Oi heads up kid.” Maria threw something that hit you in the head. Upon further investigation, it was a pair of blue shorts with sharks wearing sunglasses. 

“They’re meant for the ocean so you won’t ruin your clothes,” Nat said in between her laughter. 

“Ooo I almost forgot.” Maria tossed a matching 2 piece outfit on Nat’s lap. Wanda and Dr.Lee tried to hide their laughter while Nat threatened the three. 

The jet landed near a giant condo located just a few miles away from the local tourist spot. It didn’t take long for people to start setting up and diving into the water. Thankfully, you had packed an extra black tank top, although you still felt somewhat exposed with so much of your skin exposed to the blazing sun. You hadn’t realized how pale you were until now. You weren't the biggest fan of sand, it made walking uncomfortable. It made your skin dry and got everywhere. Bits of water sprayed in the air after the waves crashed against the shore, the water was a clear blue. 

You and Nat set up your area close to where the girls had settled, while the guys were already making a splash in the water. Some of them were sporting some matching flamingo floaties around their waists, reflecting one Pepper had Morgan wear when she went into the swimming. You applied a layer of sunscreen, the liquid was cold to the touch. 

“Hey, once you’re done, be a dear and put some sunscreen on my back.” Nat removed her regular clothes, revealing a simple black two-piece swimsuit she was wearing underneath. 

You tried not to stare too much, unable to handle your teammate's teasing about how “head over heels you were”. One of the guys had called you a “simp” before and still to this day you have no idea what it meant, whenever you asked they’d simply laugh in your face. Even the women laughed at your naivete. In all honestly she was beautiful no matter what time of the day, your heart felt like it would leap out of its chest. 

“You’re gonna burn up easily with such pale skin. Let me help you with that.” Bruce transformed into the Hulk moments ago, his hand was big enough to wrap around your entire body and tossed you straight into the ocean. To say your friendship with him was strained would be an understatement. Ever since you and Nat started dating he had become distant, not that you two were ever close to begin with. Neither of you have common interests and with your pitiful social skills, neither of you talk.

“What-”

Your protest was cut short as you fell face-first into the water. Fortunately, he hadn’t thrown you too far into the deep end, and just as you found your footing, a massive wave crashed over you, sweeping you back toward the shore. You could hear the others laugh while you were recovering from the wave knocking you down. Before you were able to regroup with the others on the shore Morgan dragged you into whatever game she was playing with the others and as much as you wanted to kick Bruce’s ass, but were too distracted by whatever game you were being dragged into.

When the sun began to set, Morgan finally set you free. Thor had set up a small bonfire for everyone to gather around. He assisted Pepper in cooking hotdogs and hamburgers over the fire accompanied with some mead that Thor had brought. Maria and Dr.Lee passed around this coconut drink for those who couldn’t handle mead. You sat next to Nat who moved her seat a bit further away from the rest of the group. 

“You’ve fought off some of Earth’s greatest enemies, yet are tiered out by a child.” She failed to hide her laughter. She stopped laughing when she turned to look at your condition. You were covered in sand, your hair was very disheveled, and there were dark lines underneath your eyes. 

“Would you mind if we headed back to the house?” 

Before sitting down you had begun to feel nauseous and the moment you sat down you felt a wave of exhaustion hit you. Maybe it was the spiked coconut drink mixed with the hours of sun, the stress of a proposal, or the sand when you were ready to go to bed. You held onto Nat for balance as the two of you left the beach. Some of your teammates are throwing a mischievous smile your way. You concluded that you hated sand. It makes your skin and hair dry, as well as rubbing in the wrong places under your beach attire. Thankfully Nat helped you out of your outfit while you waited for the bath water to warm. You noticed a difference between the skin that was hidden under your clothes. Once the bath salts dissolved the room began to smell like lilac. Your body melted the moment you were submerged in the water. 

Nat sat on the side of the bath and started to wash your hair. You started to fall asleep while her fingers scrubbed the shampoo in your hair, causing you to lean more towards the side. 

“I may need to get checked by the doctor eventually. I shouldn’t be this wiped out.” The serum in your body usually does a good job of keeping you healthy at all times. 

“I think you just need a good night's sleep.” You started to doze off and the last thing you remember you were being dried off and being tucked into bed. You pleaded with her to return the gesture and help her relax before bed and she reassured you she would be alright. Once you were under the sheets you immediately fell asleep. Nat eventually joined you in bed, wrapping her arms tightly around you.

~~~

You awoke to a gentle light illuminating the room, turning your head to see the clock read 6 am. Vacation or not you knew people would be waking up soon. Luckily Nat was a heavy sleeper so slipping out of bed was easy. You tried to make breakfast, t r i e d. Your mind was a bit preoccupied with the lingering thoughts of marriage. Two nearly burned eggs, untoasted bread, and a few burn marks later you heard footsteps approaching. A bush of embarrassment began to trace your face.

“Soooooo, how’s my favorite birdie doing…making the future wife breakfast in bed I see.” Tony walked right past the mess and started to brew coffee.

“Not you too.” You searched the cabarets for utensils and a tray to carry everything on. 

“Aaaa you’re having a wedding!” Morgan gasped and quickly ran over to you. 

“Calm down sweetie, let the grownups wake up first.” Pepper followed suit and started searching the cabinets for plates as well. 

You knelt to Morgan’s height, “I haven’t asked your aunt Nat anything yet so please keep this to yourself. You wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise now.” Pepper handed her daughter some plates and utensils to help set the table. 

“I’m glad to see my baby bird leave the nest.” Tony turned you around to meet his level, even though he was the taller one. 

“Since when was I ever in the nest?” You could feel your mind becoming more distracted by bird facts instead of the more important topic on hand. “I think I understand what you are trying to say.”

“First a social life, then a girlfriend, now a possible fiancé. It feels like yesterday we rescued you from HYDRA.” Pepper smacked him upside the head with a towel for the last comment.

“I’m sorry, possible.” You gesture with air quotes. Another worry to add to the pile. 

“Hey hey, I see those gears turning. I’ll just take my coffee and go work on something.” Tony made a quick exit, leaving you with Pepper and Morgan. 

“It’s alright to feel nervous, it’s a big step forward. I’m sure she’ll say yes. Also, you don’t need any grand gestures, it’s best to be honest and speak from the heart.” It wasn’t like you were planning on anything big anyway. 

“You make Aunty Natty very happy, I know she’ll say yes.” 

“I appreciate it guys. Now if you don’t mind. I need to go patch up my hands and…” you looked at the pathetic attempt at food you made, “get this upstairs.” 

Feeling nervous means behind all that doubt, a strong part of you wants it. Right? 

—

You quietly entered the shared room and found Nat stretching in bed. “Morning. I’m sorry the breakfast is not up to standards. I didn’t know how to use the toaster so I used the burner then my hands…” You set the tray aside on the bedside table and revealed your injured hands to her. A few blisters were beginning to form. 

“And no one was in the kitchen to witness this?” The two of you made your way to the bathroom, Nat placed some clear gel on your blisters and warped a bandage over them. You sat on the countertop while she patched you up.

“Tony, Pepper, and Morgan walked in after the whole thing. She offered to help but I didn’t want to embarrass myself any further.” You were staring a bit too long, her tangled hair and loose pajamas caused your heart to race. Ever since the battle with Thanos, she’s been more relaxed now that there’s been a new team of heroes to take care of the world as well.

She appears much happier and healthier now. The stress from those five years had affected her both mentally and physically. Her hair is now fuller and more noticeable than ever, and she has chosen to keep it just below her shoulders. Maintaining proper sleep and a balanced diet was challenging at first, but over time, she came to understand their importance. 

“You’re staring again.” You tried to turn your blushing face away but before you could she stopped you by placing a hand over your cheek. She gently rubbed over the scars by your mouth, your head nestling on her. “What’s been on your mind, I’ve noticed you have been spacing out more than usual.” 

“The change in scenery has got me thinking. When I was still with HYDRA, I never thought I’d see the sun. Let alone find people who want me around for more than my skills. I thought I’d be alone until the day I die, like…” Your sobs cut off before you mentioned your sister's name, and guilt washed over. “I’m sorry. Does the guilt ever… go away?” Looking in the mirror became easier but every once in a while, you’d feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. Especially since you’ve let your hair grow out, you were sort of glad the scars would never completely fade. 

“Take a deep breath with me.” The two of you closed your eyes and began the breathing technique Dr.Lee walked through with you. Your right hand fell onto hers which was still placed over your cheek and the other traced the marble countertop underneath you. Nat leaned in, her head resting on your chest and her shampoo filling your scent. Her hair was soft beneath your chin. She wrapped her free arm around your waist, pulling you in tightly while you calmed down. “You’ve escaped. You are no longer in that place.” she quietly repeated. 

“Thanks.” was all you could say, your head resting on top of hers. After you both calmed down, you suggested finding a place for breakfast, admitting that she deserved better than your sad attempt at cooking earlier.

~~~~

You both spent the rest of the day exploring the local town and enjoying some more satisfying food. She was dressed in an adorable strawberry-red summer dress, featuring a pleated neckline that fell gracefully just above mid-thigh. Today, she had let her hair fall naturally, adding to the effortless charm of her outfit. You opted for a more understated look, wearing a simple navy button-up shirt adorned with sailboats, tucked neatly into a pair of black shorts.

You felt anxious about being in a public space, but thankfully, Nat was there to keep you steady.  keep you grounded. As you ventured out, a few derogatory comments were hurled in Nat’s direction. You tried to brush them off and act like they didn’t affect you, even though inside you were seething. You wanted nothing more than to retaliate, to drive your sword into the spine of the man who had practically called you ugly. The insecurity gnawed at you, making you question if you were truly good enough for Nat. The idea of marrying her now feels like a cruel joke, something that could never actually come to pass. The emptiness in your stomach returned with a vengeance, an unsettling reminder of your self-doubt. Thankfully the situation took a turn for the better once Steve and Bucky approached you guys. You weren't able to ignore this lingering, snide remark about how Nat was with one of your friends instead of you, coming off as if they had gotten things wrong. Despite their departure, the sting of their words remained, casting a shadow over your day.

The two pulled you off to the side for a moment. “So Wanda and the doc filled us in on everything.” They both trapped you between them, an arm wrapped around each shoulder. “So for the wedding, can we be the flower guys?” 

“Bucky, that isn’t why we pulled them aside.” 

“Listen, Stevie, Tony didn’t include us, neither did Wanda nor Maria.” 

“Ok is that all you guys wanted to talk about? Because I don’t know if that’s up to me.” 

“No that’s not the reason, Buck. We just wanted to say we’re proud of you. I know we had a rough start but you have impressed me these last few years. On a related note, there’s this jewelry store down the block where you both can make custom rings together. Wanda mentioned you were having trouble picking one out.” The two left, off to do who knows what.

There was still an emptiness in your gut, when Nat placed a hand on your shoulder you ignored that feeling and focused all attention on her. The two of you continued to walk the streets hand in hand. A few hours of shopping later you gained enough courage to ask Nat to check out the jewelry store the guys recommended. The shop was run by a nice elderly couple who were more than happy to help you create a set of rings. You both explored a range of metals and finishes before making your choices, opting to engrave the date of your first date inside both rings. Nat decided on a delicate, thin circular band in rose gold with a polished finish, which beautifully highlighted its elegant simplicity. In contrast, you selected a slightly thicker tungsten band with a satin finish, giving it a more understated yet durable appeal. 

Nat chatted away with the couple while you sat silently, which wasn’t uncommon. You were horrible at making small talk, as much as you like to think you have improved over the past few years. The normal topic about how the two of you met came up and from then on Nat told them an abridged version. She left out the part about the two of you working as “superheroes” and the fact that your job has nearly killed both of you. Instead of listening to the conversation, you found yourself watching Nat. Speaking so openly and freely about something she felt so deeply about, she was mesmerizing. 

“And that’s how we ended up here, it’s sort of a spur-in-the-moment vacation. Although I am glad we were able to take a break, sometimes planning can be so time-consuming especially when our schedules keep us very busy.” 

“You two seem like such a lovely pair, I’m so happy to have shared this moment with you two. Alright, the polish has been set, try them on.” 

Both of you were given the other's rings, you slid the newly crafted rose gold band around Nat’s finger. Markings of old blisters, cuts, and burns scattered all over her hands from her years of battle. Her nails and the skin around her finally healed after the stress she was under during the 5-year blip. Her breath paused for a moment when you slid the band on her finger as if she was holding back a wave of emotion. 

After setting the ring you placed a gentle kiss on her hand, your thumb running over the smooth ring. You weren’t sure how either of you kept your composure, she repeated your actions after placing your ring on. The moment was broken the moment another customer walked in, the bell knocking you out of your trance and back to reality. That worrying pit surfacing again. 

“Natasha, won’t you be a dear and help an old woman out with this order?” The elderly woman led Nat to the back. 

“I can see the gears turning.” The older man leaned on the counter, standing just a few feet away from your face. “The more you overthink, the more you are prolonging the question. I will not charge you anything if you pop the question tonight.” 

“I…” His request felt so sudden, was it really that obvious? If so then there is no way Nat has no idea what is going on in your mind. If so then why hasn’t she brought it up?

“She’s waiting for you, just open up to her and be honest. You’ll feel much better in the end.” His words lingered in your mind far longer than you wished.

~~~

Sometime while the sun was setting on the ocean the two of you were walking along the shoreline. The two of you hadn’t spoken since leaving the jewelry shop an hour ago. While some might find it unusual that you could spend an entire date with so little conversation, it spoke volumes about the deep connection you shared. It was a testament to the comfort and understanding between you, where words weren’t always necessary to feel close. One you had never experienced with another except for…

“So are you finally going to tell me what’s been on your mind the past few weeks? This isn’t your normal silence.” Both of you stopped walking and you turned to face Nat. There was no way you’d be able to hide from her any longer. You had grown tired of patience and dodging the question wasn’t helping you. 

“I-” You were cut off by her phone ringing. 

“Who is bothering me right now…” She took her phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen. Before she was able to decline or answer you snatched the phone from her hand. Not bothering to look at who was calling, and declined the call, she didn’t even look fazed by the action. Her eyes widened in surprise while suppressing the urge to laugh at the annoyed look on your face.

“There has been something else on my mind.” you took both her hands in yours, squeezing them. “It’s something Wanda and the doc have been pestering me about.” Your eyes fell to the ground, a wave sinking the two of you into the sand. All of a sudden you became irritated just standing still, your hands began to shake and your legs began to twitch. Nat opened her mouth to say something but let you continue. You found yourself using your thumbs to trace the back of her hands. “Umm. Marriage. So is that something- Would you like that- Umm.” What are you saying?! You quickly dropped your hands and took a step back from her, nervously tugging at the hair at the nape of your neck. “Marry me? Ahh, wait umm. Would you..” before you could dig a bigger hole for yourself Nat threw her arms around you, almost tackling you to the ground. 

Once she gained her footing she pulled you in for a kiss, your hands resting on her waist while hers rested on your face. “I was wondering when you were going to ask me.” She cut you off before you could ask. “I’m a spy, there’s nothing you can hide from me. Plus Wanda isn’t the best at keeping secrets, she isn’t the quietest whisperer. And of course, I’ll marry you, detka.” Your foreheads resting on top of one another.

The tears in your eyes finally began to fall, in happiness of course. For each one that fell she kissed it away. 

“I never thought I’d get here. After all the accomplishments and hardships. All of the sacrifices we made to get here.” You balled your right hand into a fist and made a circle gesture around your heart. “There is no one I’d rather walk forward with.” You took your hand and placed it over your beating heart. 

“Do we really need to return to the condo tonight, I’d rather just stay here with you.”

“Speaking of the others, you know Steve and Bucky want to be flower pals right.” the two of you started to laugh at the thought of the guys throwing flowers down the aisle. 

“As much as I want to see that, I think I’d prefer we do something small and leave the reception for all of our friends.” She kissed you again and you weren't complaining. “Don’t think you need to make yourself uncomfortable with a big ceremony just because I want one. Besides, I’m sure there is a place to get married right here if you want” She whispered that last part in your ear.

“Oh, thank the gods! I was so focused on the ring and asking you that I completely forgot there was a ceremony. And for the wedding, I’ll make sure to present you with a more traditional ring.”

“Hmmm. I don’t need a flashy ring, this one is so unique.” Your face was definitely flushed from all the kisses she showered on you.

“Yes, but I have the past three months researching, hand mining, and polishing many jewels, as well as burning my hands trying to bend metal. Plus I know you’d love nothing more than to flaunt a shiny new wedding ring to all the other women and men in the tower. Speaking of flaunting…” You craned your head to the side and shouted, “You guys can come out!” to the group who hid poorly behind a lifeguard stand. 

Nat knelt down to scoop an energized Morgan into her arms, “I’m so excited for you, Aunty Natty can I see the ring?” The two of you showed the team the rings you two crafted just a few hours ago. 

“Quite the craftsmanship, I’m impressed,” Thor commented. “The boy is finally becoming a man, or in your case… Bruce help me out here.” 

“I’m happy for you guys. Really. I know things have been a bit awkward but the two of you make a great pair.” It was nice to see Bruce not act so cold towards you. 

“You're going to look so gorgeous, I can give you the address of the store I went to!” 

“So did you ask her about it?” Bucky didn’t finish his sentence because Steve pulled him away. 

“A shame I missed out on all the fun.” Tony held his phone to Nat, Clint and his family were on the other line. 

The crowd began to overwhelm you, causing your mind to drift. Thankfully, Nat noticed and announced that the two of you were calling it a night. The sense of emptiness you once felt was now filled with love, not only from Nat but from your entire team as well. You found yourself awake long after Nat had fallen asleep, nestled comfortably against your chest. As you lay there, listening to the gentle crash of the waves on the shore and breathing in the calming scent of strawberries, a deep sense of happiness washed over you. 

Taglist: @rosea-reginae

[shamy-fanatic]

Hello!!

Considering I promised a fic for Halloween yet ended up not finding a way to finish it, it'll be a treat for my little group of Tumblr friends! This fic doesn't really have an end, so I suppose it's my first offense as an evil author. Whoops!

Enjoy!!

That cool wisp in the air is enough to make Sheldon turn up the thermostat. Amy walks out of her son's room, carrying said child along with her.

“Wow, turning on the heat?” She glances over his shoulder. 73° Fahrenheit. “It seems so. This is my descent into madness.” He glances at Leonard and the pile of costumes in Amy's arms. “What do you have?”

Amy smiles widely at the question, answering enthusiastically. “These are our costumes for this year! Aren't you excited?”

He bristles at the reply. “I thought we were going as Hulk and She-Hulk.”

“Well, we aren't and you're going to wear your costume.”

“But-”

“Don't argue.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Amy smiles, bouncing Leonard in her arms. “Good. Now, here's your costume. Go hang it up in your closet, keep it safe.”

Sheldon takes the metallic costume in his hands, admiring the shiny armor. “A knight's uniform?” He looks up at Amy, “Is it enlightenment or dark ages?”

She hesitates, the right answer on the tip of her tongue. “Enlightenment. . .?”

He pauses before smiling. “I love you,” he declares before heading to the bedroom to safely store away his costume.

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

“Honey, I'm home!”

Amy comes into the house, struggling to carry two big pumpkins and one small face pumpkin, as well as some paints and carving supplies.

She calls out to Sheldon, “Come help? Please?”

Sheldon walks over to help just in time to see a big pumpkin fall and break open all over the floor.

“Why'd you do that?”

Amy sighs, handing him a pumpkin, “I didn't mean to. Now, set that on the counter. Get newspapers and the tablecloth with stains while I get another pumpkin. And pick up that mess?”

“Why? It's your mess.” After Amy gives him a glare, clearly not in the mood, he takes the supplies from her and cleans up.

An hour later, Amy returns with a new pumpkin, almost slipping in the old pumpkin's left remnants.

“I thought you cleaned this up?” She grumbles, stepping over the pumpkin guts.

“I tried to, but I don't know where any supplies are.”

“Under the sink. You clean the windows and mirrors, you know this.”

“Oh. I mean, I didn't want to.”

She sighs, setting down the pumpkin. She bends down, rummaging in the drawer, then handing him paper towels and cleaning solution.

"Wipe it up and then we can have fun carving pumpkins.”

He frowns, though reluctantly cleans up the sticky half-dried pumpkin guts.

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

Leonard's only two. He can't handle knives for carving pumpkins. Yet, he still has more confidence than Sheldon to take out the pumpkin insides for him.

“Thank you, Leonard.” He gratefully pats his head before gently tracing a design on his pumpkin.

“I can't believe you won't touch the insides.”

“It's ooey and gooey, the two things I won't touch.”

She smiles, pouring out paints for Leonard's small fake pumpkin. “Well, I won't force you, then.”

Carving pumpkins is quite the event for Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler. She has to carve her own pumpkin of course, but she also has to supervise the two babies in the room. Leonard has to be restrained before he consumes finger paints and Sheldon has to be tended to when he cuts himself with the carving knife and gets his pumpkin stained red.

"And. . . Done!”

Amy steps back, admiring her work. She glances at Sheldon’s pumpkin, giggling at his jagged eyes and random stabs of fury from cutting his thumb. “Quite the work, Dr. Cooper.”

“There's a reason I'm not the type of doctor with medicine. This is why.” He looks over at Leonard's mess of a foam pumpkin. “And his is better than mine. I want a redo.”

She chuckles, picking up Leonard to wash his hands off. “I think we all deserve gold stars. We can put out our pumpkins tonight before trick-or-treating,” She washes his hands gently, “And no, before you ask, nobody will smash our pumpkins or egg-slash-toilet-paper our house while we're gone. You'll be fine to spare a moment to go trick-or-treating with your son.”

He sighs, resigning. “Fine. But I'll let you know that next year I plan on going as my own character.”

“I can allow that.”

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

[bitebitesnap]

Gear Station gets a minor side attraction of the animatronics used to run the trains. Due to heavy traffic the normal agents and conductors aren't able to keep up with both the train schedules themselves and the battle arena built in afterwards, so they commissioned a pair of animatronics to help with the workload.

Designed to be based off the twin dragons lore, one white and the other black, they quickly rise to fame as the stations beloved twin conductor drones. Emmet's design is to appeal to the younger generation more as a smile is seen as more friendly while Ingo is meant to direct passengers to their stations with his terse and professional demeanor.

Problem is these animatronics are a bit finicky. The company that made them is still new so some components need to be switched out often due to being outdated. This has lead to some...slight problems in the developing ai's in the machines.

Emmet's polite commentary is clipped short more and a distinct tone of sass is becoming prominent. After years of being a bit of a punching bag to delinquent kids he's prone to angry outbursts and refusing to be touched. It's thought that his ai is learning to be aggressive from young kids being too rough with him so it's heavily suggested to be nice to him. it doesn't seem to be helping.

Ingo, however, is becoming less and less approachable, even unnerving. Late night passengers swear on seeing the drone appear at random without making any noise at all, some even saying he's come right up behind them just to redirect their course to the right gate. He seems to maintain his polite demeanor just fine, until someone does something out of line. Many state he's snapped into a kind of blind fury and stormed over towards the perpetrator(s) just to snag the back of their collars and hold them up like a stray pokemon to be scolded. One such statement commented on how his eyes glowed with a purple fire much like an enraged ghost type, as if he was possessed. Multiple scans haven't yielded any results of possession, though a few agents have taken to keeping ghost types nearby just in case.

A cautionary warning is at the ticket booths to be aware of the drones aggressive behaviors and that while they're working on a solution the drone's are completely harmless.

Let's just hope you're able to fix it.

[thevindicativevordan]

I'm conflicted about the Maker as a character. On one hand, he's a great dark reflection to 616 Reed. He's what Reed would be if he never were confronted by the damages his ego might cause (in 616 Reed's case, the fact that it was his ego that made his loved ones change forever, while the accident was Doom's fault in 1610). He is arrogant, selfish, hyper-competent and a super-scientist-genious who, instead of fiding solutions with humanizing elements to the world's problems like 616 Reed does, doesn't care about ethics or morality, instead trying to create a perfect world regardless of how many have to die or suffer for it, whom he doens't spare a second thought for or feel guilt about.

On the other hand, I feel that WHAT he is is more interesting then HOW he became this way and WHY, and I kinda need to know the how and why to fully understand and appreciate him. I've recentely read the Ultimate Doomsday trilogy and the reasons for Reed to turn bad, the turning point to be precise, and what he was plannig exactly were… unclear to me.

His demeanor seems to change according to the writter as well. I've read the first 12 issues of Ultimate Comics: Ultimates and Hickman writes him as calm and condescending, someone who doesn't show his strong emotions, which is great. But after Humphries start co-writing from issue 10 to 12, his characterization and voice change. He is much more extrovert, so to speak, more prone to showing emotions, and he seems more generic. Also, some writers write him as still loving Sue, while Hickman doesn't seem to write him that way (the Maker doesn't show interest for the Sue in Secret Wars and he kills 6160 Sue).

I think what I want to ask is: do you also think the Maker has been inconsistently written as a character? And do you also think that the why he does things and the how he became the way he is are necessary for enjoying/understanding his character?

Oh he's a fucking incoherent mess. As a concept he's great, as an evil Reed under Hickman he's great. As the evolution of Ultimate Reed he makes zero sense.

Bendis depiction of his "fall" was awful and incoherent. Under Bendis, Reed instantly becomes the type of guy willing to commit cold blooded murder against both his family and other heroes for no real reason. If Reed is pissed about the military controlling everything, why is he trying to kill Peter Parker? Shouldn't he be trying to kill Nick Fury and destroy SHIELD? That at least would make sense, Ultimate Nick Fury is a fucking awful person. Instead he murders his entire family instead of just his asshole dad because... I don't know, he's just evil now. A writer can't write someone smarter than them, and Bendis is just not the guy for tackling the world's smartest heroic mind descending into villainy. Reed's plan is dumb and paper thin.

A better approach would have been that Reed creates minions and has them attack various heroes and SHIELD, but only the attack on SHIELD is genuine. All the attacks on heroes are false flags designed to fail, Reed even has them attack himself and his home to make it look like he's a victim too. Only his dad gets killed because his dad was the one Reed hated. Reed's plan is to kill off the military handlers, and bring the heroes together to solve a threat by themselves, in hopes that everyone will see they don't need to be taking orders from SHIELD. Heroes can solve problems on their own. Reed also wants to reunite the Fantastic Four and thinks that this could remind the other three why they need each other. Of course the other heroes find out that Reed is responsible and attempt to bring him in, with Sue, Ben, and Johnny turning on him being what sends Reed off the deep end. He becomes the Maker and resolves to build a family in his image which will be what he wants them to be.

Other writers desperately tried to reconcile Ultimate Reed with how Bendis portrayed his fall but it just never worked. Hickman had the right approach, he threw Reed into the City where times passes at an accelerated rate to justify the changes. Maker isn't human anymore, not really. He's been alive for so long that his perspective on everything has changed - or so it seems. It's tough to talk about Maker in Ultimates because Hickman never got to finish his story. No doubt in my mind that the Maker storyline was meant to run for a while, but Humphries understandably didn't want to be saddled with another writer's storyline forever. My recollection is that Humphries worked off of Hickman's notes, and while the execution differed it's possible that some of what Humphries did was Hickman's intention.

Some of what Maker does under Hickman doesn't make sense if Maker is as cold and pure logic-based as he tries to come off as. For example the City is on Earth instead of the moon or whatever because the City needs a "solid foundation" which presumably means Earth like conditions. Ok - why the hell does Maker put his City in Europe? Why not Antarctica or some other remote location? In Hickman's New Avengers, Maker recreates the City in a remote region of South America, which means he had other options. Putting his City in Europe feels like he was itching for a fight. Obviously there was quite a bit of gap in time between when Hickman wrote those two issues, but then there's other odd behavior. Why does Maker insist on humiliating Thor by forcing Thor to serve as his messenger instead of just... sending a message? Why bring Falcon in and show off the City instead of kidnapping world leaders for the same effect? My belief is that Hickman does not intend for Maker to be pure logic. Spite is definitely a big part of what drives him. On some level Maker was clearly itching for revenge and for praise from his former comrades. He wanted to hurt them and impress them, or at least rub in their faces what he had achieved.

Wish Hickman would share what the original plans were, but if Humphries really was working off his notes I could totally buy that Maker was going to be brought down by a need to impress Sue. He'd bring her into the City to brag and flex on her, the jilted boyfriend simultaneously hoping to hurt her for leaving him and win her back, and she would bring him down. Unlikely that Hickman would have Reed outright admit that the way Humphries did, but as an undercurrent to his actions he may not even be aware of himself? Yeah I could buy that. As for why he doesn't care about the other Sues, he spells out in Secret Wars: they're not his Sue.

Even Hickman has him admit that he's wondered what his life would have been like if he had gotten the life 616 Reed did. Plus there's his whole torturing of 6160 Reed. He could have killed 6160 Reed along with the other three, but he didn't. Instead he turned the guy into Dr. Doom and attempted to break him. Why? What purpose does that serve? 6160 Reed knows Maker hates him but can't figure out why. My theory is that it's because Maker is trying to take a Reed who is similar to 616 Reed and transform the guy into a monster like him. It's his middle finger to 616 Reed. Maker wants to prove that 616 Reed isn't better than him, if Mr. Fantastic had lost his family and been put through hell like Maker had, he would break too. That 6160 Reed is, so far, not a monster like Maker pisses Maker off. It's not logical to keep 6160 Reed around, and doing so leads to Maker's fall.

Hope that long winded rant clarified my thoughts for you. Moving on to the second part, do we need to know the how and why of Maker to enjoy him? Depends on how he's used. Something like Cates' Venom run, no. Maker is just an Evil Reed there, we don't need his backstory to understand that he's a power hungry bastard out only for himself. Per Cates himself, Maker is there because he wanted a dark reflection of the Peter/Mr. Fantastic relationship, and it's enough that Maker is a villain working with a dark anti-hero Venom to help facilitate that. Now in Ultimate Invasion, yes you do need to understand the how and why. Problem is that it's not clear why Maker does a lot of what he does. His creation of the Ultimate Illuminati is explained and makes sense, but what is his endgame? What does he want 6160 to become? I can't tell you. No clue at all what his endgame is supposed to be. Does he want to turn the world into a global version of the City? Does he genuinely want to make a utopia? He seems content to let his underlings run their fiefdoms with a relatively free hand. 6160 America appears to be much more advanced thanks to the technocrats running things. Even allows Howard Stark and Bruce Banner to express misgivings about his rule. Public seems to think he's a great guy, presumably he didn't kill a shitload of people to build his society this time around. We needed more info on what his plans were and we didn't get them.

Maker is a fun character and also an inconsistent mess. One does not always preclude the other. Now my personal opinion is that he's approaching the end of his lifespan, I think Hickman needs to give him an ending. Whether that's death or something else I don't know, but a confrontation between Maker, Mr. Fantastic, and DoomReed is all that's left to do with him I feel. Hickman is really the only one who has used him to his full potential anyway. Give him a proper send-off to close the door on the old Ultimate Universe as we move into the new one.

[tachimichishrine]

Okay sooooo I’ve been reading your stuff for a couple of days now and IM OBSESSED I love the way you write tachi so if it’s okay, could I request an x reader where the reader is a weapon’s engineer? bonus points if she’s a chemical engineer by profession IF YOU WRITE THIS THANK YOU SO MUCHHHHH have a great day

<AKH TYSM??? giggling isn't a strong enough word i'm rolling on the floor blushing,,, sorry for the long build up and it had less tachi appearances than i intended agagagagagh I hope this is what you wanted, have a lovely day darling ♡>

"blown away"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

tachihara michizou x fem! chem eng! reader

warnings: none :) just fluff n plot, slight cursing n intended lowercase

a searing sting, ringing in ears, ash fluttering all in the surroundings; the world has become a wasteland, and you were nestled warmly in the safety of a suit designed to handle the radiation from the outside. you watched the blocks of metal melt lopsidedly, a displeased tsk accompanying your scowl at the failure. they were not meant to come apart so easily.

"goddamn it!" you yanked the zipper that lined your chest, tearing it off until the oversized suit was open enough to slump off. with a fury that caused every man watching you to clear their throats, become incredibly interested in a speck on their shoes or take a step back out of fear, you pulled off the costume and threw it to the ground. you even spat on it, grumbling vexedly, "that should've worked."

the admiral looked at you with a raised brow, clearly not impressed by your childish reaction. you couldn't care less; this was your one chance of hitting it big. you were hired by the government to create a chemical similar to sleeping gas capable of only targeting the enemy, except they didn't quite want their enemies to take a nap. you had a logical solution, and worked on it with your team for months; today was the demonstration to show all the important men what their money had been funding.

yes, what you did was despicable. you created weapons of mass destruction, turned simple assortments of molecules and rearranged them in a way that could turn a solider inside-out. however, the scope was beyond you; you simply made the tools, and their use was not up to you. many of your colleagues knew about the kind of iron stomach needed to work in this field, and no one ever said a word. you had a cadaver which you mutilated during trials of reactions with the flesh, and not a single person looked each other in the eyes during the tests. yet you all knew that you were more powerful than those who wielded the codes, those who held the guns and those whose whispers into a phone could turn an entire city to rubble. all because you had the ability to create such horrifying devices.

this one had been working up until today's demonstration. it was a highly pressurized container that, when detonated, would slowly disperse in the air and corrode everything except the metal blocks you coated in the other substance that would negate its effects, cancel out the reaction and subsequently keep the bearers intact. however, something seemed to have happened and the bearers were very much not intact.

you were now stripped of the protective gear, walking in the toxic chemicals freely like it was a breath of fresh air. the colonels and officials gawked at you from behind their protective screen, to which you snapped out of your fury and chuckled, seeming almost embarrassed. you didn't know which ones were up to date on abilities, but you decided that it wasn't your job to explain to them that you have the gift of immunity to toxic substances. the suit was a decoration, more than anything, designed to be worn by the rest of your team who were sulking behind you at the disappointing results.

"[_____], knock it off," one of them placed a hand on your shoulder and tried to bring you back to reality. "we were monitoring the conditions, so we'll just have to take a look to see what caused the error."

you scowled, not wanting to admit that they were right. with a shrug to get rid of their hand, you excused yourself and walked over to the pressurized door that separated you from your clients. you threw it open, your clothes starting to fray at the exposure (quite slowly, given that your sweat was doing a pretty good job at protecting them from the chemicals), and stormed inside. the man who'd initially approached you for this job - a nameless colonel, a man whose face you could barely remember - was walking away, disappointed. you didn't like the feeling of failure, but this added insult to injury.

yet, you barely had a choice to follow him and explain that this was a one-off, that your process and methodology was sound and would be peer-reviewed if it wasn't highly politicized and you could publish your work. you left everyone behind as you walked the hallways of the facility to find him.

of course the place was a maze. every hallway looked identical, every door and every room the same and god forbid you put a map somewhere. soon enough, the layout had engulfed you whole and there was nothing you could do to stop it except continue walking and hope you would get out, never mind find the admiral.

you caught a glimpse of a strongly built man, tuffs of white sprouting out the back of his head and you called out to get his attention, given that the way he was walking made it appear that he knew where he was going. he turned around; it was a living legend.

a chance encounter led to you babbling like a fan girl about how incredible the fukuchi ochi was, and he seemed to be enjoying the praise because he walked you down to his office and offered you hard liquor at 2 in the afternoon. you told him that alcohol didn't affect you (your body treated it like a toxic substance and isolated it from your system), but he thought you were exaggerating and challenged you to a drink-off. your day was already ruined from what had just happened, and you figured that this kind of opportunity doesn't come around every day.

you told yourself that it didn't matter and pulled yourself a seat with a grin.

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turns out you were one lucky bastard.

even though you clearly beat him at his challenge, he seemed to take a liking to your spirit and heard you out when you explained your current situation. he must've made some calls or talked to some people, because your funding had not only not vanished the next day, but you were told it was tripling. you had a hard time convincing your coworkers that you didn't give the admiral one hell of a blowjob to make this happen.

you didn't dare venture through the facility and risk being locked out in an area where you didn't have clearance, so you just politely asked around for fukuchi's location in order to properly thank him.

it took a while, but you were told to head to some kind of training grounds at the back of the building. the place itself was mostly underground, given that most of the research happening was highly classified or highly controversial, so you were slightly surprised to find out people actually used the first floor. your clearance didn't let you get in, but you laundered around the door pretending to be on a phone call long enough for someone who did have clearance to open it and be careless enough to let you waltz in behind them.

once you reached what amounted to the backyard of the government facility, you saw fukuchi sitting down lazily, a hand waving around messily while he energetically said something at the two men who were doing alternating pull ups on a bar and a little girl who was doing one-handed push ups while smiling widely at him.

you stepped outside, a little uncertain of what you were intruding on given that it seemed like they were soldiers, but the entire group seemed to be painfully unorganized. despite this, you were set on thanking the old man for what he did, so you took another step.

a man was running towards you on the left, the sweat dripping down his arms and face signaling that he's been running for a long time, and you only heard his footsteps too late. he was zoned in and you were zoned out; your bodies collided and soon enough you were laying on the ground while he teetered on one foot and managed not to follow you downwards.

however, he looked pissed. "who the fuck are you?" he held his hand out, and a pistol levitated from who knows where to snap into his grasp, then pointed at your face.

an ability user. you put your hands up in a sign of innocence, reaching to your government id and pass to explain to him that you worked here and were just looking to talk to fukuchi in regards to your project. he didn't seem convinced.

"look," you sighed, slowly getting yourself up and dusting off the dirt from your clothes, "I didn't mean to run into you, so why don't you just let me walk on over there and talk to the guy?"

he glared at you as you did, and the other three soldiers (you presumed they were, even though you couldn't explain the little girl) noticed your presence and gave you about the same reaction as the redhead did. you regretted coming here, and told yourself that you would just thank fukuchi and get the hell out of here.

you waved at him cautiously, and began to thank him for getting you your funding.

he didn't know who the hell you were.

you knew he was drunk, but it was a logical assumption that he would at least remember your face vaguely, or would've made those calls while sober. apparently this wasn't logical, and right now you were ready to evaporate into the atmosphere and never return.

your brows were furrowed in confusion, and you stammered your way out while trying not to provoke the other people watching you. "I'm so sorry for disturbing you... ahem... hey, how's it going... I'm just gonna walk 'round ya ahah... uh... sorry..."

you ran out nervously before the redhead could point his gun at you again.

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"oh my god, it was awful," you blabbered to your colleagues, recounting the story in vivid detail while burying your face in your palms and bending your torso onto the table. you had a chalkboard up with your new data, and screens were displaying models and atomic structures, since you were three days after the disastrous demonstration and still couldn't figure out what went wrong. "he looked at me like he'd never seen me in his life."

"you sure you didn't just hallucinate the whole encounter?" someone snickered, and you threw your empty coffee cup at them.

"yeah, it happens to me all the time when I forget to sleep for a few days. trust me, it's a sign of greatness."

"oh, shut up," you chuckled, glad you were taking your mind off of things. you all collectively decided to pick up another project in the meantime to show that you were indeed real engineers and could actually do your jobs properly. it was some kind of rocket launching mechanism, and you couldn't do your part until the basic concepts were made so you were just lounging around with the rest of your team, making paper airplanes and throwing them around.

so, you were doing absolutely nothing when the same man from yesterday walked in through the door.

he was wearing a uniform, unlike previously when he was wearing some more breathable clothes for training. he wasn't sweaty and breathing heavily either; in fact, he seemed to clean up quite well. you barely registered his face last time given the circumstances, but it didn't take very long for your posture to fix up and for you to try and fluff your hair in a reflexive response to how nice he looked. the solider seemed to be evaluating the room, your coworkers and you, then cleared his throat.

"your id said you worked in the weapons manufacturing division," he stated as some kind of greeting. you shot looks to the people sitting next to you, who got the hint that this was the guy you were talking about from before. you smiled at him as to not seem like you were guilty of something.

"yeah, I'm [_____]," you restated, hesitating between getting up and offered him your hand or just staying where you were. the latter felt safer, and you just gave him a short introduction of your team and what you did. "once again, I didn't mean to barge in yesterday, it was a misunderstanding. sorry about that."

he shook his head, a little relieved once he confirmed that you weren't some kind of spy or something. you noticed that he was a little more mellowed out while in uniform, almost like he was just angry yesterday because of all the running he did. you stared a bit too long at his features and let him say something you barely registered, turning around to leave.

your body acted alone and you sprouted up to your feet to follow him. "wait, your clearance isn't going to work here, let me-"

the door unclicked on its own and he shot you a coy smirk before leaving.

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your leg bounced nervously as you sat down at an empty desk in an office that wasn't yours. weeks had passed, and the admiral was starting to value your team a bit more now that you had a few concept designs that proved valuable. for some reason, though, he called only you to come and meet him face to face.

that was nearly 30 minutes ago.

you didn't care much for punctuality, but people like him typically did so why on earth were you waiting so long? you couldn't leave, not when you had no idea what the meeting was about. so, you waited patiently and tried your very best not to explode out of your skin.

finally, a knock at the door that was ajar behind you. your head whipped around, and it wasn't the man you were expecting.

"commander fukuchi," you stated, shocked. "I thought my meeting was with..."

he laughed heartily as he took a seat, throwing himself onto the chair so vigorously you thought it would snap in half. "oh, don't mind him. I was told that since I left such a strong recommendation for you, I should hand-deliver this message."

you addressed the first part before the second. "you were told, sir? so you really don't recall us drinking together in your office?"

he laughed again, and you smelled the faint sweetness of alcohol on his tongue. figures. "another thing you shouldn't worry about, [_____]. I'm sure I meant what I said," he added with a nonchalant wave of his hand in the air.

trying not to let your 'don't meet your heroes' moment show too much, you mimicked his laugh and asked the second part of your question. "you mentioned hand-delivering a message?"

the message was actually an assignment: his military division called the hunting dogs were having trouble with their transportation pods. you thought this meant they had a car or something that was totaled, but no, it was an actual transportation pod. he led you out of the room to bring you up to some hangar where you saw the metal contraptions.

he did a really bad job at explaining how they worked, but the concept felt pretty self explanatory when you inspected it. fukuchi told you that some higher-ups are on his back to stop destroying these every mission, and he admitted with a chuckle and rub of the back of his neck that he and his subordinates don't take very well to having it malfunction.

you told him that you would take a look at it, and he burped as an affirmation and strolled out rather happy.

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the project lasted a few weeks.

it was a hinge and wiring problem, things anyone with half a brain could fix in less than a day, but something stupid happened on your first day walking into the hangar to take a look at it.

the man from before was there.

he didn't seem like he wanted to be here, but it was just him so you assumed he was here on some kind of assignment, just like you. you greeted him with the same smile at the previous time, and he didn't bother to return it. he explained that he was here to help you get this thing fixed.

"are you... an engineer?" you raised a brow, careful with your words given that you knew nothing about him except that he was part of the deadliest military division in the country.

his reaction was hard to decipher, a scoff accompanying it when he flicked his wrist upwards and the transportation pod floated up in the air. "no, that's why I'm here."

ferrokinesis. you'd be lying if you said the ease with which he controlled such a large mass wasn't impressive, but it wasn't your place to irritate him even more by talking. you nodded an apology then got back to assessing the device.

you asked him to flip it onto its side, and he did. after you asked, you paused, realizing you still didn't have a name to call him. tachihara, he told you. your lips curled up and you told him that it was nice to finally put a name to his face.

the next day, you tried to speak with him more as you took down measurements in order to create the model and reprint the defective parts. only, he didn't seem to want to talk to you about himself at all, and you hit a dead end.

you kept trying.

it was a mission within a mission, a side quest to this assignment if you will, but you were determined to get to know him. you considered every time you got him to mildly chuckle to be a huge victory, and every word he said was another point for you. you still spent every other day working with your team on the defective toxic gas device, but this project was hand-delivered to you by a man who didn't give you a deadline or a budget, so you considered it a freebie to do anything you want for as long as you wanted. you decided just to redesign the entre thing, and the bonus of spending time with tachihara made it even sweeter.

instead of flat out asking him on a date, you settled for hanging out in the huge hangar, just you and him for hours. he admitted once that it was a nice break from all the weirdos in the hunting dogs, and you just laughed and told him that you liked the little escape too. sometimes you got him to give you feedback about your designs since he would be using these pods, and other times you just tried to scooch your body as close as possible to him while he told you about his most interesting spy missions.

by the time you couldn't stretch out the project any further, you got him to bend the metal plaques into the final shapes you needed and decided that maybe you really should ask him out.

you didn't. you just dropped the final designs onto the desk of your boss and went home regretting your decision.

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you and your team finally got your device to work.

it was something about the concentration, about how you failed to account for the room pressure and how it would vary with the consumption of one substance into another, and you felt triumphant when, this time, you left your protective suit on and watched certain blocks of metal stay intact while others melted into nothingness. you walked over to the ones that were dissolving to run your fingers through it, what was once solid turning into butter as you raked your fingers through it. you gave your coworkers, who were watching from behind the screen this time, a thumbs up which they barely caught from the way they were jumping up and down and hugging each other from glee. the government officials seemed impressed, and it was hard not to burst from the feeling of pride at your success.

they greeted you once you traversed from one side to the other, telling you just how much this will serve the country and save millions. honestly, you knew that they couldn't care less about saving millions, and so did you; you were just happy your product worked.

you were even happier when you saw tachihara watching the entire thing from the corner, smirking at you with his arms crossed over his chest.

almost floating over to him, you asked him about a thousand questions about why he was here, how he knew that you'd be here, what he thought of the demonstration and if he'd want to go out on a date with you.

you had a whole lot of wins that day, but the one that had you smiling into your pillow that night was a three letter word.

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"sssh, shut up, we're gonna get caught!"

you giggled even as you sealed his mouth shut with the palm of your hand, bodies pressed up against each other as you hid inside a janitor's closet.

tachihara was showing you around the entire facility, since you kept asking him about how he had clearance to go anywhere and everywhere without needing a badge. the first date, you took him out, but ever since then he's been showing you spots around the facility that no one ever goes to, ranging from the inaccessible roof to a very sketchy basement spot in which he said privacy was needed before kissing you for hours on end.

this time, you were venturing around a spot where neither of you were allowed and you'd heard footsteps coming from around the corner. you pulled him with you into the closet and could barely contain all of your giggles. he whispered that you were doing this on purpose, and you just pressed a kiss to his forehead as a response.

"you know," you said softly while waiting for the footsteps to disappear, "I never asked how the pods went."

"oh, teruko and tecchou destroyed it anyways," he chuckled. "you were given an impossible task, we all knew it from the start."

"well, thanks for letting me know now," you giggled and your hands rested gently at his hips.

you never thought you'd fall in love for any of the heartless government pawns that worked in the building, but no one could build a weapon so powerful over your heart than him.

[vishnavishivaa]

Suddenly (Chapter 2- Song of Yearning)

@thelekhikawrites wanted me to update this next, so here we go!

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

“Again?” Kundavai frowned. “Did we not just settle it before Anna came? Just a short while before we sat down to talk with Arulmozhi?”

“We did Akka, but we both knew it was temporary,” sighed Vanathi. “This has become a twice a day situation from twice a week.”

“I know,” Kundavai sighed even more. “We need a more permanent solution to this. I expected them to behave better.”

“Akka, everyone is competitive.”

“Almost everyone is competitive, Vanathi,” Kundavai nudged her. Aditha’s eyebrow lifted, intrigue seeded in him at Kundavai’s words. Was his sister implying what she thought he was?

“Akka, it would be better if you spend time with them too,” she suggested gently, though she looked at Kundavai wearily. Ah, another suggestion his sister had not taken; he and Arulmozhi looked at each other, the latter just as curious as him, though a tinge of delight too was present on his face.

“Kanne, can we be parted so easily?” Kundavai responded instead, turning to her brothers. “Do you both want to leave us here? Or come with us instead to the antahpura gardens, where things will settle for some time just because you both are there?”

Her words might have been phrased like a question, but it was clear what she wanted from both her brothers. 

“We will come with you both, Akka,” Arulmozhi said, making Kundavai smile. 

“Good. Come with us,” she said, starting to lead the two with Vanathi, whispering to her friend, “Are you okay, kanmani?”

“I am, Akka,” she whispered back. “They started their accusations when I left, so I don’t know what will happen now.”

Kundavai sighed tiredly, so tiredly that her brothers looked at her in worry. 

“Luckily Patta is away for now?” she said instead, louder than she usually would, but entirely purposeful. 

“Patta? Pazhavettarayar Patta?” Aditha asked, anger and betrayal flashing on his face. His fury was ever etched in every part of his being, the unimaginable pain that he had gone through three years ago still echoed powerfully.

“Him only,” Kundavai sighed. “It is a long story Anna, I will tell you all. And yes, you too, Thambi.”

Kundavai added that seeing the reaction Arulmozhi was about to give. 

“Kundavai, I told you to keep me informed about the happenings in Thanjai,” Aditha frowned, but Kundavai just nodded, as if she had been expecting that. 

“I know you did, Anna, and I also informed you. But I did not think the details of the antahpuram mattered to you,” Kundavai said. “In retrospect, maybe I should have told you both earlier.”

“You should have, but it is not too late. Tell us now.”

“I will soon,” she said instead, strolling with Vanathi, allowing her brothers to follow her, while whispering to Vanathi, “Do they expect my brothers?”

“Not at all Akka. They are, of course, decked from head to toe, just in case one of the Princes visits you, which they would, given that you are their sister.”

“And yet you are not decked up?” Kundavai asked, raising a teasing eyebrow. 

“Should I be?” Vanathi asked Kundavai, blushing red, accidentally meeting Arulmozhi’s eyes, blushing deeper when his eyes stayed focused on her. She smiled softly, before looking down at the ground, blushing more when Kundavai patted her head in answer. She did not see the small smile that crossed Arulmozhi’s face, nor did she see the thoughtful looks of the crown Prince as he cast glances at both her and his brother alternately. 

****

“Akka, did you redo the gardens?” Arulmozhi was confused, for he had seen a completely different design just months ago when he had left for Eezham, and to his knowledge, his sister was mostly at Pazhayarai. 

“Vanathi and I did, thambi,” Kundavai smiled, Arulmozhi feeling a gentle tingle run through him at the sound of her name. So she was partly responsible for this wonderful transformation, filled with thazhambu, chembarathi, malli, iruvakshi, kadambam, kuvalai and shenbagam on all sides, twining creepers, fruit trees, and soft, lush grass. 

“Migavum arpudhamaaga irukkiradhu Akka, Devi, (This is wonderful, Akka, Devi)” Arulmozhi said, looking at Vanathi directly, relishing in the blush that crossed her face when he focused on her. He then chided himself internally, not wanting to distract himself. 

Aditha, who had been watching this, was already starting to get an idea about his brother’s levels of denial. He sighed to himself, needing to know why his little brother was so averse to love. In every aspect, it was clear that Arulmozhi was in love with the gentle light of the Irukkavel clan. 

He now had a deeper understanding of why Kundavai thought that he should be by his brother’s side. There were certain things that only an elder brother could advise him on. Feeling an oncoming headache already, he just took in the beauty of the garden, appreciating what his sister and her friend had done to it, enhancing its beauty.

“Appadi endral, dhinamum siridhu neram vaa inge, thambi (If that is the case,then come here everyday for a little time, thambi),” Kundavai said, her eyes full of warmth and affection for Arulmozhi, who smiled and nodded in acceptance, though he kept throwing what he thought was furtive glances at Vanathi. 

Aditha wasn’t fooled though. 

His brother absolutely wanted to spend time with the Princess, and he was going to ensure it happens. 

“Kundavai, please tell me you are not involving Kodumbalur Kula Vilakku in your political intrigue games?” Aditha teased his sister, purposely trying to find out more about the Princess to see his brother’s reactions, though he already knew that Arulmozhi’s love would only be confirmed. 

“Anna, she is my thozhi. She is always involved even when she tries to stay away,” Kundavai said, teasingly smiling at Vanathi, who shook her head but laughed, seeming to understand what Kundavai was pointing at. 

“What are you talking about, Akka?” Arulmozhi asked, his curiosity shining in his eyes, eager body language making it clear why he was asking.

“There was this time when Vanathi and I ran circles around the two Pazhavettarayars,” laughed Kundavai, narrating the incident. Aditha raised his eyebrow, seeing his sister’s handiwork, and the unending loyalty that Vanathi held for Kundavai. If his Nandini had had someone like Vanathi… 

His thoughts hit a pause when a messenger came in.

“Ilavarasargale, Ilaya Piratti, there is a message for Ilavarasi Vanathi from Sevur Ilavarasi Ilamathi.”

***********

Well, well, well- the confusion is starting *sweetly innocent*

@vibishalakshman @rang-lo @kovaipaavai @thegleamingmoon @dumdaradumdaradum @nspwriteups @willkatfanfromasia @ragalata @chiyaanvikram @whippersnappersbookworm @hollogramhallucination @dr-scribbler @yehsahihai How is it?

[thehistoriangirl]

The Oblivious Game I Want to Lose (Without Losing You) [Chapter Four]

> M A S T E R L I S T <

Viktor x Fem!(Hopeless Romantic!)Reader-----3.1K-----SFW

Synopsis:  Your father wants you to forget about pursuing  your dream of being an opera singer as your mother was. Instead, he's  determined to make you a great business person to fit into his wealthy  family—his solution? Hiring one of the smartest students of the Academy  as your personal tutor, no other than Heimerdinger's assistant himself.  But when you two grow closer, the plan gets tricky as you get your  confidence back to fight for your re-discovered dreams just as Viktor  starts to achieve his own.  

Chapter summary: Time passes, and soon enough your graduation arrives. Would that mean the end of your relationship with Viktor?

Tags: Friends to Lovers| Not-Actually-Unrequited-Love| Hidden Feelings| Crushes| Slow-Burn| Denial of Feelings| This one is Angsty, I’m sorry| (1) use of y/n|

Testing and verifying.

Viktor was used to the method, using it in the lab and teaching some students about it when Heimerdinger let him as a substitute teacher; but he didn’t believe the businessman Erik Ventos would abide by the same process.

He felt as if one of his professors were revising the progress of his late project, Mr. Ventos’ brows pinched while trying to search for the minimal problem of its design, function, or utility. The memories from his student years got cut short when he saw you removing in your place, next to him. The fabric of your dress brushed his hand from time to time with the wind filtrating from the slightly open window, your hands playing with the hem of your sweater as your father revised your grades.

It was getting colder outside, autumn almost arriving with the leaves of the trees covering the garden slowly turning yellow and orange. You stopped wearing thin and puffy fabrics in exchange for warmer materials.

Not that he had noticed. It was just a logical assumption.

Mr. Ventos’ gaze slowly fixated on him, lips in a neutral fine line. "It's progress. Not the best—but you've just tutored her for a month, so I suppose it's good enough."

Viktor tilted his head. “Thank you, Sir.”

You had your eyes glued to the edge of your father's desk, head lowered. Viktor wanted to reach for your shoulder and give you a reassuring pat. You'd done very well during all these weeks, even if your father was reticent of expressing it.

Mr. Ventos called your name. Not so coldly as Viktor was used to hearing, but he frowned nonetheless. Good thing Erik Ventos wasn’t paying attention to him.

“You should thank your tutor, child. He has accomplished a hard task. I’m surprised.”

Something twitched in your nose as you looked at your father’s nagging expression, but you turned toward Viktor, smiling softly as you said: “Thanks for everything, Viktor.” Your eyes twinkled with the afternoon light as if gold particles were trapped inside your irises.

His heart picked up its rhythm, but it surely was for the pressure of being inside Mr. Ventos' office.

Mr. Ventos set the paper of grades down, burying it between a dozen of folders. “Well, then. Have the day for yourself,” he commented, already taking one of the folders and starting to read. “You’re both excused.”

Viktor tilted his head as a goodbye, following your steps in a beeline as you exited the office. You stopped in the middle of the hallway, huffing something between gritted teeth.

You looked angry, and to be fair he didn’t want to cross in the way of your fury, so he chose to check this part of the manor instead—Mr. Ventos’ wing.

The soft colors of your manor wing were gone; here, the walls made Viktor remember the cerulean blue from the Academy’s hallways, the same hue of grayish blueish covering the walls on this floor. Golden motifs were scattered over them, geometric and simple against the soft curves of the decorations on your floor.

You were talking to him, it seemed, walking closer and closer toward him, calling his name as he looked at the fancy ceiling made with boring translucent glass. On your floor, the ceiling was decorated with mosaic the color of the rainbow.  Viktor didn’t hear you until you tugged the hem of his vest.

He jumped at the sudden contact, and you quickly withdraw your hand. “Hmm? Oh, Miss Ventos. What is it?”

You smiled shyly at him, retreating your hands to your back. "Would you mind joining me for lunch?"

He blinked, already feeling a wave of heat creeping up his face in the form of a pink blush. “Pardon?”

You tilted your head, your smile widening. “I said if you want to eat with me.” You took a step away. “If you don’t have more compromises, of course. I wouldn’t like to keep you.”

Viktor stood there awkwardly, his hand grasping the cane with so much force the metal at the handle creaked. If you heard it, you didn’t comment about it. Which he thanked.

Do you want to eat with me? He thought—well, not thought because you replied:

“Yes!” You beamed at him, the gesture so natural Viktor blinked twice to assure himself it wasn’t a trick of the light. “I was thinking you could assist me with my final project for the engineering class, maybe? Please?”

He smiled slightly as if it wasn't his job to help you excel at school anyway. Viktor nodded, and then you took him by the sleeve of his shirt, dragging him down the hallway, toward the stairs.

You were following him as he carefully descended each step, each one taking one side of the handrail.

“And what are you planning on presenting?”

“My family always presents new prototypes of airships.” You shrugged, but Viktor noticed the light scrunch of your nose as you continued. “It’s a bizarre family tradition, but a tradition nonetheless.”

Viktor tilted his head, trying not to tell you about ditching the tradition if you wish to. He wasn't there to cause more problems. His grasp on the cold metallic rail tightened.

“I suppose you already have some ideas if that's the case."

You nodded, he saw it from the corner of his eye—as he was used to looking at you. In fleeting glances as your head was dipped, eyes squinted while looking at the equations you must resolve for him. Sometimes you bit your lips when you grew frustrated, and he had to play with a nearby pen to remove the temptation of stopping you before you drew blood.

Viktor frowned. He was getting distracted.

“…we should discuss it on a date,” you said, and Viktor stumbled over a step.

A little scream came out of your mouth as you quickly took one of his arms to stabilize him. He saw your eyes widen, face pale as you scanned his body.

“Are you alright? Are you feeling dizzy? It’s because you haven’t eaten lunch, right?” Your brows got knitted in worry as the silence extended abnormally long between you two. “Viktor?”

“A date?” he repeated simply, a light blush forming on his cheeks.

You blinked, clearly dumbfounded. “Yes. You know, a specific day so I can work in a deadline?”

The warmth should’ve disappeared, but instead, it grew until he felt his face boiling. Of course, you'd meant that, what was he even thinking? Or perhaps it was that he wasn’t thinking at all.

Viktor nodded, feeling some locks of his hair brushing his forehead from the movement. A poor excuse for trying to hide his flustered state. "A date. Right. Perhaps in two weeks from now? Does that work for you, Miss Ventos?”

“Y-yes, it does. But—” Viktor looked at your hand hovering some centimeters away. He descended a step.

“Very well. Then it’s settled.” Viktor was at least three steps away from you, but the growing distance didn’t seem to work. He wanted to continue, but guilt weight down his stomach, twisting it into a painful knot. His face half turned to see you, standing still right in the same step he faltered.

It was difficult to talk to you—very much so he was used to his stumbled sentences. Viktor was surprised you didn’t find him annoying, or even boring as he explained each thing in the summary talking too quickly. “Let’s go, Miss Ventos. You wouldn’t want the food to get cold, do you?”

You smiled at him then, quickly skimming over each step until you were at his same level, barely a couple of steps left. He could smell the sweet and salty aromas filtering from the left side of the ground level.

Viktor was about to take another step down when you took his wrist. He jumped a little, not being the first time this day you touched him there. You lowered your head, your smile turning apologetical. “Please be careful.”

He nodded—he couldn’t do anything more than nod. You withdrew your hand, and a stupid, childish part of him wished you had not.

*~*~*~*

Time passed by quickly once you got used to the new routine.

Viktor would tutor you two times a week, and at the end of the semester, the sessions would become three or even four.

Mr. Ventos didn’t seem weird that even as you progressed, picking up your grades, you still needed a tutor as much as the start. The reality was, you were selfish and wanted a friend. You knew it was frivolous to pay him and share time with you, but you knew Viktor wouldn’t want to share his time with you otherwise.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had a friend. First, because every rich kid knew your mother was from the Undercity, using such fact to exclude you from their plays, and then, their parties. So you relied on your mom, the only way that was there to play with you and keep you amused by giving you trips around the opera house and the Music Faculty. You got used to being around adults, to be only noisy and chaotic when alone.

Then your mother’s death occurred, and you only became more isolated.

Your father tried to push into Piltovan high society, but with no real luck. People would talk to you to reach your father or your family resources. They wanted to use you when you couldn't use them back.

Viktor was a particular case, he was there specifically to help you. And he didn’t look interested in whatever privileges your family could offer. How many young tutors had tried to swoop you off your feet, trying to fool you into loving them blindly? How many old tutors would treat you excellently only while your father was watching?  

The man was still wary of you, with his warm but distant smile, and the fact he wouldn’t call you by your name no matter how hard you tried. But you liked to share time with him. You liked how his eyes shone as brilliantly as the sun while he was explaining subjects of his interest—ones that weren't included in the study program.

With some luck, perhaps you could convince him that your intentions were good, that you weren't trying to use them for personal gain. But despite the result, you must try.

*~*~*~*

Viktor entered the studio on a normal day like any other. You weren't there, not even in your usual napping spot. Instead, there was a note scribbled in your now familiar lettering.

Under the olive tree! You scribbled, doodling a little tree in case Viktor would miss the meaning of the note, he supposed with an amused smile.

He took the note out of the desk, heading toward the window to scan if he could see you from there. And soon enough, he scanned your figure hunched against the olive tree itself, with a book laid open in your lap.

Viktor slid the note inside his pocket, to put it in a drawer with all your other notes and doodles arriving home. He always finds them interesting, even thinking about them on his way to your house every day he had tutoring sessions. They could vary from class related:

‘I don’t understand this </3’,

‘!!!!’,

‘→ (boring)’,

‘interesting! :0’.

Sometimes, it was random questions and expressions so out-of-class topics Viktor knew if someone look at the notes, they will report it to Mr. Ventos.

‘Do you want more cake? ^^’,

‘Pretty flower for you → happy spring season :D (beware allergies)’,

'Roofs. Through service stairs (don't let them catch you!!).

Some were more serious, like long or medium letters apologizing for a sudden absence.

Hi Viktor!

I’m sorry to make you come all the way here.

My father took me to the Fissures to revise some cargo in the port. I don’t think I can make it back quickly enough.

You can stay here to work for a bit if you want to :D I left some chocolates in the upper drawer of your left.

Have a good day <3

It was spring back then, with the sun starting to set up later than usual, and small flowers starting to bloom.

When he appeared between the bushes, you smiled at him, putting the book aside to pat the spot next to you in the soft, freshly cut grass. You had a tray filled with a pitcher filled with orange juice, one of the two glasses half-empty.

Perhaps it was only the spring season, but your smile seemed brighter, the fabric of your clothes surrounding your body like a white halo. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d hang around the garden, but at that point Viktor thought that way, trying to soak into the scenery of pruned shrubs, and trees starting to grow new leaves. Some bees were stepping into the rim of your glass, and even you help one that had fallen inside with the help of your pen.

The olive tree was in front of a fountain, a bench-like swing surrounded by roses at the right.

Viktor frowned. “Why didn’t you sit over there?”

You giggled, pushing away the locks of your hair that were covering your eyes. Viktor saw you missed a little one. “Because I’d get distracted too easily.”

This was my mom’s garden, you told him when he gained enough bravery to ask. Because Mr. Ventos wouldn’t look like the kind of person to find a garden useful in any way. I take care of it for her now.

Those times you doodled flowers and trees all over your notes.

He knew he shouldn’t attach too much to your company, because the semesters in the Academy passed by for nothing. Once you graduated—and each day you were nearer that point—, you wouldn’t need him anymore, and Viktor would have to return to the life he’d always know: a lonely, quiet one.

Your last tutoring session was late at night, because, with the preparations for the graduation ceremony, you had all your evening occupied. It was the only time you arrived at the studio minutes after he had.

Viktor saw dark circles behind your eyes, and a tired smile every time you looked at him.

He handed you some equations, and you solved them without any questions about the procedure. The light of the chandelier sent multicolored hues toward your evening attire, comfy brown pants, and a white blouse. Some locks of hair were poking out your hairstyle.  

Around an hour later, you handed the paper back to him, and he skimmed at it. While he revised the test, you put out a notebook, scribbling the last essay you’d have to do for the Academy. It was one of those reunions where the silence hung comfortably around you, as each of you worked your duties.

“Good job. You only had one wrong.” Viktor slid the papers back to you, with a tiny doddle of a happy cat in return.

Sometimes he allowed himself to leave you silly notes, too.

You chuckled at seeing the little drawing. “Do I deserve a reward?”

He nodded, opening the candy drawer to give you a couple of chocolates. “Of course.” Your brows were raised, eyes widened with surprise.

“Oh? Two?”

“It’s your last quiz, after all.” Viktor couldn’t stop his voice to sound disappointed, almost sad.

Your smile illuminated by the chandelier made his chest tighten. One of your hands took one chocolate, and pushed it toward him, gesturing the candy with your chin for him to take it.

“You deserve one too,” you muttered, your eyes twinkling. “Thank you for everything, Viktor.”

The knot of his chest raise to his throat, and he was surprised about the idea of him crying in front of you. For something as normal as a graduation.

“Congratulations, y/n.” You looked at him as if he’d just given you the moon, lips extended in a wide smile and eyes closed with a beam of happiness that only made him feel worse.

I’m going to miss her, the thought revealed itself before Viktor had time to hide it at the back of his mind once again.

It was a rather quiet reunion because you were busy, and Viktor didn’t want to interrupt your work. He gathered his things quietly, stealing glances of your figure half-laying in the chair, feet tucked at the edge of the chair’s cushion as you used your knees and thighs as your improvised table. Viktor knew it was rude to stare, but he had to.

He wanted—needed—to remember you when he was out of your life.

As he was about to stand up to leave, leaving a goodbye note over your graded quiz, you spoke.

"Viktor, would you like to be my plus one at the graduation party?"  You were peeking at him from the edge of your notebook, the rest of your face still hidden. One of your hands took out one invitation card from between its pages.

The card made a muffled sound when your fingers put it on the desk, nail meeting the wood.

He frowned, even if his automatic reaction was to say yes.

“Shouldn’t your father accompany you that day?”

You scoffed lightly. “If I can be honest with you, I prefer he wouldn’t.” You returned to an elegant sitting position, leaving the notebook aside. “I think you deserve to come with me. After all, I’m graduating thanks to your help.”

“That statement dimmish your commitment and dedication,” he replied, but Viktor felt something fluttering inside, on his stomach.

You blinked, eyes away from him. "I… I would really like it if you could come with me."

He stood there, with his back very rigid against the chair rest, your words slowly, deeply seeping through his skin, down his heart.

“I’ll be there," Viktor said, not processing what he was saying. His fingers were grasping the cane's handle with so much force, he saw his knuckles turning white. "Yes, yes. I'll be there."

Your chair scrapped the floor as you dragged it away from the table in a hurry. You were blurry of white and brown as you throw your arms around his seated figure, not caring if his cane was inserting over your stomach as you leaned toward him.

“Thank you,” you said against his hair, and he was too shocked to move, thinking that any little shift of his body would drag you away. “Thank you so much, my dear friend.”

Viktor closed his eyes at hearing that, taking in the smell of your shampoo, and the scent of your clothes. The way your hands took fists off his sweater at his back, how the crook of your neck fitted perfectly for him to rest his chin on.

He’ll miss you. He’ll miss you so much.

But he had to let you go, such was life.

At least, from now on, every day he gets to see an airship flying through Piltover, he’ll think about you.