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cher-rei · 10 months ago

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afterglow- pt 2 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold × fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

[wc: 2,1k] [part 1] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12]

genre(s): friends?? to lovers, work romance, fluff

warnings: swearing

notes: guys I totally forgot that curtis has a girlfriend help💀 so I'm just gonna remove her completely and in here they're not together... it's for the plot I swear

"what the fuck?!"

"jamie!" your sister's voice echoed through the house to your bedroom that early wednesday morning. it was normal for her to scold at you whenever you swore anywhere near her. which was all the time seeing as the two of you shared an apartment.

you didn't bother apologising as usual though and sat up straight in your bed, your blankets dishevelled and a look of confusion plastered on your face. "no way," you gawked at your phone screen and ran your fingers through your hair to try and comprehend what had just happened.

"there's really no reason to be shouting at 7 in the morning." you brushed your sister's comment off, the older girl taking it as a sign to join you on the edge of your bed to see what had gotten you all riled up.

she let out a heavy sigh as she moved you over so that she could sit with you. "speak woman. I don't have all day."

you took a breath and turned to look at her, eager eyes staring you down for any sort of explanation you could give her. "Okay so basically I just woke up and obviously my first instinct is to check my insta and twitter notifications because I got a bunch."

she gave you a look. "which isn't anything new. probably just a few followers or something."

you pointed your index finger in her direction. "exactly. but then--"

you turned your phone in her direction, your twitter feed showing up. "--I saw that I was being tagged like crazy. only to realise that this whole liverpool pr thing is blowing up."

maya gave you another look. as if you to say 'what did you expect?'. she began to get up from the bed but you quickly caught her wrist and pulled her back down again, urging her to stay for the rest of the story.

"jamie," she sighed. "you have an entire fanbase, of course they're going to go crazy over something like this."

you shook you head. "that's what I thought. but then I decided to go check my instagram notifications because apparently..."

you turned your phone screen to maya, displaying your follower list and lo and behold right at the top, your most recents followers queued up.

"what the fuck?!"

you jumped up at your sister's reaction. "that's what I'm saying!"

jude bellingham was one thing. but the entire liverpool squad?? there was no reason for that to happen at all. you were just some random twitch streamer on the p.r team, nothing more.

was it because I kicked the ball on monday?? it was so because I kicked that ball on monday.

you weren't going back to the training center for a while though. there were too many errands to run and meeting to sit through. and today's meeting at 10 was sure to pile even more projects on your table.

the match on saturday against wolves was going to be a premier league match so a lot of preparation had to be done for the interviews. yesterday's meeting already gave you a headache so today was going to be something for sure.

"is jamie not coming in today as well?" curtis asked no one in particular while his eyes roamed the hallways, yet there was no sight of the girl anywhere.

from beside him, trent quirked an eyebrow and nudged his arm. "you're on a first name basis already huh? you work fast."

curtis scoffed at his comment, recalling mpnday afternoon's events all to clearly after jaimie had left. "hey I'm not the one who stalked all her socials the second she left."

"what?" trent raised his hands in defence. "she looked familiar so I had to check."

"who looked familiar?"

the two jumped up at the sudden question, their glares shot at dominik who had pushed in beside trent who only shook his head, not bothering to brush off dominik's arm that was slung over his shoulders.

"the new p.r girl," he answered and put his phone away.

"jamie?"

trent shot him a weird look and then to curtis who was smiling from ear to ear with an 'I told you so' look. "what so you're all just on a first name basis? how did that even happen?"

the conversation carried on until they got to the field and even during their warm-up session. but it still seemed off to trent who grew more an more confused whenever someone chimed in with an "are you talking about jamie?"

it didn't make sense to him. they barely knew her or had any decent conversations. what difference did asking about where she was from or how many siblings she had make? but either way, the team wondered why trent has such a big issue with it.

"did you guys know that jamie's a twitch streamer?"

"what the hell?" trent groaned in obvious frustration when ibou chimed in while they were doing their laps around the field.

"what? are you just going to call her 'ms carter' for the rest of your life?" ibou asked again with a low chuckle which got a small shrug from trent.

"obviously not. it's just that she's a staff member and has a job to do." he turned his head to look at curtis who seemed fed up either the mini lecture that he was getting, but he felt that it needed to be said.

"she's not here to be your friend or--"

"--I fully agree with you trent. I'm glad some of us have common sense," harvey retorted out of nowhere.

seriously. they didn't even know he was there. the smallest of the group was adorning a look of determination as he jogged alongside his teammates. one that screamed, 'I hate jamie carter.'

ibou scoffed from beside him. "oh shut up. you're just mad because she's taller than you."

the group couldn't hold back their laughter as they watched harvey go quiet, a look of defeat on his face as she shook his head to the side. he'd get her back. one day.

but with trent's issue, everyone's argument was that they were just trying to make her feel comfortable. and he could give them the benefit of the doubt there, he knew how fans tended to react to situations like this and their presence in general was probably a lot to her.

but there was no reason to be involved with her personally. okay so what if he was the first one to follow her on Instagram?? when dominik saw that he was stalking her account his first instinct was to take trent's phone and follow her, just to tease him.

but then everyone followed her so that was kind of pointless.

after a bit more back and forth banter curtis let out a sigh. "but either way, she's friends with jude in a way or something." he gave trent a cheeky smile and the right back couldn't help but roll his eyes, knowing very well where he was leading with this.

"and any friend of jude, is a friend of mine," he finished and put his hand on his chest causing ibou to laugh but oh boy he wasn't finished just yet.

curtis took a moment to clear his throat and looked behind their group to see dominik running along with darwin and cody, laughing about what ever.

"if this is like any movie I've watched, then someone is walking out with more than just a premier league trophy."

that earned him a harsh slap on the arm from ibou but he didn't care and instead ran up in front of trent, now taking the liberty to jog backwards to take him head on. "what do you say? are you going to keep that 'ms carter' thing up until she becomes mrs alexander-arnold"?

"boys!"

everyone immediately halted at the sound of virgil's voice booming from the front with robbo and salah. "am I going to have to chase you to make you run any faster?"

you sat in the meeting room that afternoon with your laptop in front of you and your attention drawn to the front where the projector was with the media teams director, marvin colesmen.

he was a a slender man no older than 40, with blonde hair that was styled to the side. he wore a polo shirt underneath his blazer with a very obnoxious pair of socks as well.

"regarding our performance, we're doing fairly well but there's much room for improvement. but let's all thank clara for the last minute camera replacement last week since the last one broke."

everyone at the table immediately turned to look at someone who you remembered to be shaun. all he did was roll his eyes, and judging by the death glares he was receiving he definitely broke that camera.

mental note: don't break anything. ever.

"ms carter?"

your head snapped to the front at the call of your name, a bubble of anxiety filling your stomach now that you were put on the spot.

"do you have any thoughts on anything I've said?"

thoughts?? I don't have any thoughts??

"uhm..." you sat upright in your chair as you trailed off to formulate a response. "I think that more attention should be drawn to the team's more laid back promotional content."

great answer.

marvin tipped his head to the side at the response in intrigue. "care to elaborate?"

not really.

you licked your lips as you thought. "coming from a supporter, the occasional training video and interview don't really attract attention."

you watched as marvin urged you on with a nod. "and I think we should expand our content to something more entertaining. it'll be more rewarding for them team that way as well, I'm sure they're tired of answering the same questions every other week," a small laugh left your lips but you immediately stopped.

the room was dead silent and the atmosphere was a little too hostile for your liking. it was obvious that everyone was waiting for marvin to either shoot you down mercilessly or agree with you. but the experience was nothing short of terrifying.

the director nodded his head and continued to mutter something to himself before sending you a smile. "I'm giving you a week to come up with entertaining alternatives. if you convince me enough, I'll give you what you need since you'll be with the team from next week onwards unless I need you. you'll be joining them on the trip to molineux saturday morning as well. I'm sure the fans wouldn't mind seeing you in the booth either."

what's that supposed to mean?

when the meeting was finally over you didn't waste a second and rushed to pack your things and get in your car. you needed to hurry if you wanted to miss the rush hour traffic but of course you were wrong and sat in the car for an extra 40 minutes. lovely.

by the time you got back home, you felt as if every bit of energy had be drained from your body. you dropped your keys onto the counter in front of the door and kicked off your shoes.

"jamie?"

you let out a groggy "yeah" and dragged yourself to the kitchen where your sister was finishing up supper. you didn't say much and took your usual seat on one of the barstools and rested your head on your arm.

"so," maya poked your head. "how was work?"

as an answer you gave her a mumbled run down of your day, and by the time you were done the only words she heard were "broken camera".

she let out a hum regardless to show that she was paying attention and continued to stir the pasta in the pan. "well a kid fell down the slide today. I know I'm the teacher but I still laughed."

you couldn't help but cough up a laugh at her sudden confession. you looked up at her with a smile and she slumped her shoulders. "I just hope no one saw."

by the time you had gotten out of the shower. finished your night routine and ate dinner you were surged with a sudden burst of energy and needed to get it out. after a bit of scrolling through your socials and interacting with your followers and a much-needed poll on instagram, you decided to start a twitch stream.

and boy did it lead somewhere.

#trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #liverpool x reader #liverpool fc #writing prompts #fanfic #cherrei writes

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asherashedwings · 5 months ago

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FNF CONNECTED UNIVERSE LINE UP Part 1: The Boyfriends

Chat. I spent 34 hours in this canvas. I am so tired.

Anyways, when I began working on Connected Universe AU, I already knew I'd be making line ups. Cuz I love making line ups and I also love suffering.

Close-ups and lots of yapping under the cut

THIS IS ABOUT TO BE A LOT OF READING IM SO SORRY-

Alternate Universe Boyfriends

So all these guys, unlike the other BFs present on this line up, are actually BF but from different universes. They're the same dude.

I thought it'd be neat to display the fact that they're from different universes by drawing them all in different art styles. It was also a fun exercise to test my art style range.

So starting from the left, we got Base Game BF. The main universe one. He's drawn in my usual art style. Not much special about him. Boyfriend.XML my beloved. I will note here though that I did take some of the elements form my own BF design and threw them onto the AU BFs. So that's why they all have some sort of jacket/hoodie etc.

Then we got Yourself. I reverted to old tactics and used my sketch for his line art, which results in him having thicker line art in general. I also further distinguished him by giving him harsh black shading. He always has that. He already had it on his face, so I just gave it to the rest of his body too. Cuz silly. You. You could even say. Silly Billy- 💥💥💥

Then we have Funkadelix. Him and a few other BFs make use of the Blackburn brush for their line art, cuz idk I like that brush. I referenced the Mutant Mayhem style when making him, since in the Connected Universe, he's in the same universe as those turtles. His colors are mostly yoinked from the actual Funkadelix sprite. I think. I may have tweaked them a bit/eyeballed them idk. I prolly eyeballed them.

Then we got Monday Dusk Monolith (MDM). I really went with the mentality of "NO ROUND SHAPES" with this fucker. Just wanted him to look super sharp and scratchy, since that AU is literally dealing with an apocalypse. So sharp shapes just made sense in my brain.

I had a lot of issues settling on a style for Mix, so I just chose to take inspiration from the FNF loading screens, cuz it just fit in my brain, idk. His design also features present in my Pico design, like the stupid cleat shoes and stray hair lines. Yknow, since he's literally a mix of BF and Pico. He also uses Blackburn

Finally, HD. I decided to try and go for a semi realistic style for him, proportion wise at least. Cuz. Yknow. HD. He also uses the blackburn brush, but I also pulled an old tactic for him and made his sketch visible over his coloring. Cuz idk, I think it lends towards the vibe.

"Side" BFs

Okay, now we're REALLY getting into AU territory.

So from here on out, all the BFs are separate people from THE BF, and have their own names and shit.

So staring off, we got Blake. I was reading through his wiki trivia and saw them say his style was more "radical and funky" than base BF's. I saw the word funky and ran with it dawg. So that explains this clothes. I also tried my darndest to get rid of a lot of the BFs caps, cuz dude, I can't have that many fuckers having cubic backwards caps. So I gave Blake a pair of star shaped sunglasses cuz funky, chat, FUNKY. We decided that his stage name is Love Bird, and he chose that cuz that's a pet name his GF has for him, and if he had a band it'd be called The Birds of Paradise.

Then we got .XML. I immediately knew I wanted to give him a mullet. Look at this man and tell me he wouldn't have a mullet. Besides that, not much changed. Since he kept the name of .XML, I imagine he is actually related to BF in some way, and he just goes by his last name. They might be cousins or brothers or something idk. There's also more dumbass info on him here:

Then there's River, or G-Sides BF. I took a lot of inspiration from his teaser designs, cuz they were silly. Literally named his river after the dumbass river design on his sweater. I don't got much info on him besides that. I can't talk about River without including this image so here:

The New Yorkers

This group is literally named after the fact that they all live in NY in my AU. Technically, the Minus BFs should also be here, but they're their own group.

Starting with Bartholomew, or B3, I just took the shape of his glasses and ran with it. Chat I needed to get that shape language from somewhere. I actually drew him twice, since the first time around I really was not digging how I drew him. He's fine now tho. His ass only got brim, cuz he had to be different somehow. Other than that. not much changed for him.

Now Evan.. Evan gave me so many issues. Like, dawg I drew him three times. I kept on trying to make the orange in his upcoming design WORK but I just COULDNT chat i COULDNT

So, per @braveboiart 's request, I ended up getting rid of it entirely and replacing it with his blues and grays. They also gave me the advice of brightening the colors a bit, which was very easy for me to do, I love bright ass colors. I also touched up his design shape wise, since that was also lacking the first time around. So boom, zippers on the pants and baggy ass sleeves. I'm content with how he came out. Chat I did all his design touch ups while I was exhausted out of my mind. Sometimes you gotta be delirious with sleep deprivation in order to cook, kids, trust me (please do not be like me-)

Benjamin was pretty simple. Kept him soft, kept him round, kept him pastel. Got rid of the caution sign on his hoodie since .XML already had that, and just replaced it with paint splatters. Not much more to say.

With X's design, I got a lot of help from my good good friend @minxtheeenby , mainly when figuring out his hair style. Those braids are not actually his hair, and are fuckass cords that connect to his headphones and can move independently. Don't ask about the logic, I will not be thinking about it. He was born in Philly cuz of his fuckass white eyes. White eyes means Philly, I don't make the rules here.

Minus BFs

The colorful critters, these guys are.

So. Beta. I had actually drawn him before this point, and he didn't change much from then

He has arrow shaped top surgery scars cuz I love giving constantly shirtless characters top scars and I just. HAD TO once I had the idea to make them arrow shaped. Main things to change since that drawing are some details on his pants and some of his colors; notedly the fact that his hat is a darker color compared to his skin to further distinguish it. Also Brave kept trying to get me to make parts of his design the same color as his nipples. So that happened /lh

Chat. I let my furry show with Blue. BUT CHAT HEAR ME OUT. On the wiki it's stated that he's a "Dog??". You think I could look at that and not go all the way? So yeah. Dog. He's silly and he got his weird ear ring things from his sister (Minus Miku).

Not much to say on Mean, he barely changed. I just drew him in my style and added a few details. He might also be an alien, idk.

Now, I posted about Golden a bit, but for those who didn't see that insanity: I made him an Alien Hominid. Cuz small yellow alien=Alien Hominid in my brain. Flawless logic. (Don't worry chat, I sat down and extensively researched the AH series to the best of my ability to check if it made sense. And I didn't see anything that would make it not make sense?) But yeah, silly. Him and Otis might be buddies, cuz goofy.

Who Fuckin Knows

These guys are just all the guys I had nowhere else to put. Miscellaneous group.

So first we have Bonnie, or Saturday Night Swappin' BF. He's another one that I had to go back and touch up. I actually touched him up the same night/morning as Evan. He ended up turning purple. The name we assigned him was an omen /j Chat I swear he was originally blue, I don't know what happened

HC that he just got really into FNaF when he was younger and has just been cosplaying a humanized Bonnie the Bunny ever since /hj

BIDU GAVE ME SO MANY ISSUES AND IDK WHY. It's prolly cuz by the time I got to him I was getting SUPER burnt. But I prospered and was able to finish him. And I don't hate how he came out, so bonus points there. Main change was replacing the prohibition sign on his shirt with a lightning bolt, cuz no one but BF is allowed to have that symbol, and Bidu already had lightning bolt imagery, so eh why not. His eyebrows being green, at least in my style, implies his hair is naturally green, and he just added the blue and pink, and I find that slightly humorous, idk.

Keith (StarCatcher) was another one I had to go back and touch up, but that's due to the fact that I was informed that him and his GF got a redesign before the creator deleted their FNF stuff. So I had to go back and fix my design according to that. I also leaned into the scape suit direction cuz SHAPE.

Now, you might be wondering, why is Flippin BF here and not with the other alternates? He was grouped with him in a previous post? Well, that's because after more assessment, I decided that Friday Night Flippin' is in fact, in the same universe as Base FNF and not an alternate universe like I had previously decided. So I changed his design a bit (mainly just getting rid of his hat and changing the color of his shoes) and boom. Different guy. He is staying pixel art tho. I do still need to come up with a different name for him tho.

Now this next one, Heath, is not from a currently existing mod, but from an FNF AU my friend Minx is making.

I decided to include him cuz he's silly and I love him. Their AU is canon to the Connected Universe.

Okay, so Cam (Hellbeats BF) changed A LOT. I let my furry slip out again. BUT I HAVE ANOTHER REASON FOR IT. See, in this connected universe, it's not just Newgrounds stuff that is canon. I also made other fandoms I'm in canon. So that means the Hellaverse is canon (specifically my rewritten version of it), and Hellbeats has to fit in with that. So I had to assign the characters species from that universe as well. So I made Cam a cherub, cuz I wanted him to stay short as fuck. He's also a raccoon cuz he's a lil shit and I thought it'd fit If ur curious, this is what everyone else is:

Okay I'm done yapping now. Gonna be doing the GFs next.

#CHAT IM SO SORRY THIS POST IS SO LONG #My insanity strikes again #ashedwings post #ashedwings art #fnf #friday night funkin #friday night funkin’#fnf boyfriend #fnf bf #bf fnf #boyfriend friday night funkin #fnf au #fnf mod #fnf mods #fnf headcanons #Ashedwings ramble #long post #ashedwings design

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dantesunbreaker · 11 months ago

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Hey Ghestie! If you are currently taking requests, may I please have some headcanons for how Copia & Secondo (individual headcanons for them ofc) act as father figures to a Sibling of Sin 🥺 preferably one w/anxiety and is touch starved totally not projecting

Fatherly Papas

Of course Ghestie! Though I took the liberty of doing all the Papas because I also could use some fatherly Primo in my life. Also I'm posting this while on mobile so I am scared to see what it looks like when I get back to my computer 😅

Primo

There are many days spent working in Primo’s garden together. Not only just because Primo needs help with the physical labor in his older years, but because it is a quiet relaxing activity that gives you time to bond with each other

Physical touch is often, ranging from small reassuring pats on the hand to warm heartfelt hugs pulled tight to his chest. Primo wants you to physically feel the promise that he will always be there in your time of need

Sits and listens to you troubles as an active listener, asking questions that get to the root of the issue and then offering what advice and comfort he can if and when needed

Primo knows the signs of when you are getting burnt out or straining yourself too much while working and will bring you tea or treats that help you relax

Is beyond touched and flattered should you ever give him gifts on Father’s day, might even get a bit emotional. Will thank you by pulling you in for a hug followed by a chaste kiss on either the cheek or forehead. There is no toxic masculinity in him, so Primo is very open to giving kisses in non romantic relationships

Secondo

Secondo told you that you were always welcome to come to him in times of need, he never really expected much to come of it

On occasions that Secondo catches you in the halls or in public and notices you displaying signs of anxiety, he is quick to step in and help. Starts with a call of your name as to not spook you before putting a firm yet comforting grip on your shoulder

Even Secondo will admit he is not the best at comforting others, especially with his words. But that does not mean he will not give it his all

Brings you to his office so you have a private place to let go, sitting in silence as you let out whatever has been causing you to struggle

Once you have gotten everything off your chest, Secondo will pull you in for a tight hug, paying no mind to whether or not you are soaking his robes with tears

Will hold you for however long you need, a warm and comforting embrace that makes you feel safe and accepted

As you are pulling away from the hug, Secondo will look you in the face while telling you how proud he is of you. Tells you that he sees everything you do, how hard you work, and he could never feel anything but pride at that. Success or failure, does not matter, Secondo will also support you and always be proud

Terzo

Absolutely wants to be seen as a sort of “fun dad”, and always tries going out of his way to keep you smiling even when you really don’t feel like it

Terzo is very open about all sorts of physical affection and never holds back. Will give you as many hugs as you need, will brush your hair if it helps you feel calm, greets you with a kiss on each cheek, anything that you need Terzo would try to give you

Always wants to be caught up on whatever is happening in your life whether it be big or small things. If something important happens that Terzo doesn't know about it kind of crushes him because he will feel like he is failing as a paternal figure

Good active listener when you come to him needed to vent, responds with concern and empathy and always asks if you want advice for the issue or simply to get it out

Whenever Terzo catches you having anxiety attacks or getting over worked, he stops everything to whisk you off to do something more fun and relaxing. Sometimes this means impromptu trips to theme parks

Totally also gives you extravagant outfits for your birthday and Christmas

Copia

Equally touch starved, expect that when Copia provides comfort that it will entail a fair amount of physical affection

When walking together, Copia will place a hand either on your back between your shoulder blades or on your opposite shoulder

Copia is also not always the best at comforting with his words, but his awkward ramblings and signature Copia noises are comforting enough at times

Makes you promise to come to him if you are ever struggling with anxiety or any other mental strain. Does not matter what time of day, Copia will always set everything aside to be there for you. Whether you just need someone to vent to or if you are seeking advice, he is there to offer what help he can

The times you come to him crying, Copia will hold you tight to his chest and softly reassures that you can get through this and that he is with you every step of the way

Honestly, the type of guy that would also treasure anything you ever make for him. Instead of hanging drawings on the fridge, he will hang them in his office. Also the type that would cry at your plays or dance recitals should you ever have anything of that nature. The ghouls go with Copia to keep him from making too much of a scene

Introduces you to the rats as “their much larger and less hairy sibling”, immediately feels nervous about it and will give you a look that says he is waiting for your response. It will make his day if you are on board with being a big sibling to his rat children

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ssspideysense · 6 months ago

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𝖍𝖎𝖌𝖍 𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖊

peter thinks his life is finally turning around after his promotion at stark intel. he's closer than ever to his dream of being a real hero.

you, on the other hand, are crashing and burning. you're closer than ever to losing your shit.

peter parker x f!hero!reader

01: 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔰

4.3k

Two years.

Peter stared down at the little laminated badge in his hands. The ceiling lights above washed out his picture on the top left corner, so he let his gaze roll over his printed name again and again instead.

Peter Parker. Peter Parker.

Peter Parker, Junior Dispatch Agent.

He brushed his thumb over the text, a small smile hanging on his face. It only took roughly 730 days of kissing ass and running himself ragged, but he finally did it.

The promotion of a lifetime.

He wasn’t an assistant anymore, getting stuck with the tedious little tasks others simply didn’t want to deal with. As of eleven o’clock that morning, Peter was an official agent at Stark Intel, one of New York’s leading security and investigation companies.

… a junior agent, but still.

The meeting let out half an hour ago, but Peter still sat at his desk, taking his time cleaning it out. It wasn’t technically his anymore. They were moving him up to the 13th floor, where bigger names with bigger responsibilities gathered to drink coffee and… do much more important things than they did down here, he was sure.

Those guys got to see the action outside. They got to save the day, five days a week. They got insurance.

“Damn, did Parker get fired?”

Peter looked up from his shiny new badge.

He had worked with a handful of other assistants (associates, as they were more tactfully and officially called) for most of his time at Stark Intel, but not many of them lasted past their probationary period. There was a sort of turn-and-burn culture among the lower levels of the building, Peter came to realize early on. It wasn’t hard for anyone to miss the big cardboard box sitting at the edge of his desk, and it wasn’t hard for people to make assumptions, either.

It’s funny how that sort of thing worked.

“Nah, the other thing,” someone else chuckled, “he’s heading up to dispatch.”

Peter slipped the lanyard over his head and started peeling the various sticky notes and pictures off of his divider’s walls. Projects he didn’t need to worry about anymore, schedules, reminders and memos. Little trinkets and knick knacks got tossed into the box on top of them. He tucked the polaroids safely into his back pocket.

It was feeling more real by the moment. With as much time as he spent in that stuffy, fluorescent office, he couldn’t wait to skip over it in the elevator the next day.

“Dispatch? Who’s he working with now?”

“Don’t know. There’s only a few openings, though.”

The chatter from around the room didn’t faze him. Maybe, if anything, the fact that they acted like he wasn’t just ten feet away would’ve irritated him on a normal day, but he couldn’t be bothered at the moment. It actually got him thinking as he cleared out two years of junk from his desk drawers.

As a junior dispatch agent, he’d be partnered alongside one of the public faces for the company, which maybe wasn’t too different from his previous position— except this time, he’d be out on the street with them, doing more than just conducting post-mission interviews and collecting data. He’d actually be helping them, helping people.

There was a limited pool of agents available, since most of them already had a partner. He didn’t have room to be picky though. He kept his opinions and speculations to himself— at least until he could get home and unload them onto his friends.

Packing away his laptop was the sweetest maraschino cherry of all, sitting on the peak of his career history, all wrapped up in one cardboard box. Peter stood from the creaky chair. It didn't groan like that two years ago, and he’d always meant to tighten it up, but it seems he didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

A blanket of quiet fell over the office once he stood tall above the cubicle dividers. Several pairs of eyes shifted onto him. He tucked the box under his arm and shot his smile around the room.

“Have a good day everyone.”

He never felt more weightless than when he stepped into the elevator and pressed the shiny little button labeled 13.

Six months.

You stared down at the printed pink paper in your hands. There was aggressive typeface all over it— at least, it felt a little aggressive to you — listing different “occurrences and events” that had taken place over the past quarter.

Failure to maintain control of a company motor vehicle.

Destruction to public property.

Inciting panic.

“Okay, inciting panic? That’s a little much, don’t you think?” You said, leaning forward in the uncomfortable chair you’d internally dubbed the punishment throne. You never got called into this office and got waved to sit down in that stiff plastic nightmare for any other reason.

Bruce glanced up at you from his desk, a somewhat miffed expression on his tired face. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Yeah, y’know, I do think that’s a little much. But that’s exactly what happens when you crash a car into a farmer’s market.”

“That makes it sound way worse than what actually happened—“

“No, actually, that’s putting it pretty lightly. You should’ve heard what Tony had to say. I’m surprised you didn’t, with how… opinionated he was.” Bruce made a bridge with his fingers and spoke in that way that made your skin feel tight. Like a disappointed parent. You almost wished he would just yell at you instead.

You flicked your gaze back down to the ticket and shrunk back slightly.

“Stark and I have different opinions on what happened that day,” you mumbled.

“I’m sorry to say it, but your opinion is starting to lose its weight around here. Tony showed me the security footage,” Bruce leaned back in his seat. He looked worn, tired. “I can’t keep defending you like this, kid. You’re running out of chances. I’m sorry. Six months is the best I could do, and I can’t do it again.”

The room suddenly felt very small for being as big as it was. You rubbed a hand over the side of your neck and read the bottom of the paper again.

Corrective action taken is as follows:

6 Months Watchful Eye Probation

Approved by Tony Stark

What a hellish day, made worse only by his name signed so flashy on the thick black line with red ink. Your stomach already dropped to your feet earlier. It was probably somewhere under the building at this point.

“I can’t do Watchful Eye, Dr. Banner.”

Bruce let out a terse breath. “I’d say it’s a lot better than being unemployed. Look— you do the six months, you don’t miss any check-ins, you fill out your reports… you’ll be back in good graces.” His tone fell a bit softer. A moment of temporary reprieve for your mounting anxiety. “Six months is nothing.”

You watched him from across the desk for a moment. He’d never led you wrong before, but your gut twisted uncomfortably at the idea.

Six months of giving up sugar was nothing— six months of having Tony Stark and all his tech goonies up your asshole was a lot. Still, you relented with a slow sigh.

“I still have my opinions,” you stood from the punishment throne, certainly feeling punished, and crumpled up the paper, tucking it into your jacket pocket, “but, uh, I’ll save ‘em for you, for another day. Maybe some cookies and coffee next lab day.” Bruce watched you scoot the chair forward with your boot, making a short but loud screech. “Thanks, Dr. Banner.”

Defeated. Your gaze stuck to him for just a moment too long as you took a few steps back, before your body finally caught up and turned.

Bruce sighed and weakly raised two fingers from his desk in farewell. “Good luck.”

Fuck luck. You needed a fucking miracle.

Any agent stuck in the Watchful Eye program was inevitably burned, either by the industry or the public itself. It didn’t matter what Stark or Dr. Banner said. You really couldn’t afford that kind of dent in your already rocky reputation, or your rapidly thinning paychecks.

There had to be something you could do. Working overtime, helping out in the lab, fuck… maybe Stark likes cookies?

Who am I kidding? I’m not baking Tony Stark fucking cookies.

The pink ticket was a boulder in your pocket as you stepped onto the elevator, your finger jabbing into the stupid button 13.

It smelled sharply like chemicals and salt water. A strange combination.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal a custodian on his knees, scrubbing away at a portion of the tile that’d been marked off with tape. Peter met his exhausted gaze almost instantly.

He couldn’t think of much to do other than offer a polite smile and short nod to the man, shifting out of the way to avoid his work area.

It was only as Peter walked past that he noticed the burning, sickly smell coming from the stain on the floor. Whatever the custodian was scrubbing into the thick dark liquid was bubbling up fiercely in reaction.

He held his breath and continued on down the hall, leaving the poor man to his job.

Strange things happen all the time in this industry. That’s simply how it is in such an unpredictable slice of life. He wondered what kind of a budget Stark Intel had for things like that— what he assumed it was, anyways. Superpowered mishaps. He never saw any of that in the lower levels. Anything of that nature was hush-hush, company confidentiality, the whole notarized nine yards.

Peter pulled himself from his thoughts once the sleek hallway spit him out into a large rectangle of a room. Several private cubicles lined the walls, looking like little suites instead of corporate-hacked work spaces. Straight ahead, a giant TV stretched from the dark tile to the ceiling, playing over a newscast on low volume.

Peter watched the woman’s blown up face for a while in awe. She recounted some fiasco at a farmer’s market that happened last weekend. What a mess that had been. Thankfully nobody had gotten hurt— they just couldn’t figure out what had happened. The car that had lost control and crashed into the scene was empty when they got to it.

“Hey, man, are you lost or somethin’?”

Peter snapped his head to the side. His stomach flipped involuntarily as a thick, salty, brine-like stench instantly clutched at his throat.

The man was sitting several feet away, kicked back with his feet up in the second cubicle along the wall.

Peter didn’t recognize him, but then again, he rarely saw the dispatch agents outside of their street uniforms.

He adjusted the box in his hands and cleared his throat. “Uh, sort of. I just got transferred up here,” he turned to face him, then paused, unsure if he should go in for a handshake or not. “I’m Peter Parker.”

The agent raised his brows. The light reflected off his wet skin almost blindingly. He leapt from the chair and joined Peter, taking his beachy odor with him. He reached forward and grabbed the badge around Peter’s neck to look at it more closely.

“No shit, eh? Junior Dispatch Agent Parker. I thought you were, like, a food delivery guy.”

He chuckled and let the badge fall back against Peter’s shirt.

“I’m Darian. Also known as Cascade—“ he paused, taking a breath and setting his hands on his hips, “—the name’s… a work in progress. Riptide was already taken.”

Peter nodded dumbly. He tried to focus on Darian’s words, but his sinuses stung, his throat clenched, his eyes watered. A cough forced its way out of his chest and he took a small step backward.

“Yeah, I, uh… no, I’m supposed to meet Dr. Banner, I believe,” Peter said. “Do you know where I could find him?”

Or is there any other way out of this conversation without being rude?

Darian nodded, but sucked his teeth and blew out a sigh. “Banner’s kind of busy right now,” he replied, vaguely tense, but quickly shifted back to the casual tone from moments ago, “c’mon, I’ll show you your desk while you wait.”

He laid a hand on Peter’s shoulder and guided him toward the far wall, where a row of much smaller cubicles sat lined together like a pack of gum. A warm, wet sensation immediately bled through the fabric and made Peter grimace.

“Whoops. Sorry, that’ll come out in the wash, probably,” Darian chuckled and took his hand back. A perfect wet print sat dark over Peter’s clean linen shirt.

Some old saying May used to feed him about windows and opportunities was just out of reach in his memory, but Peter held onto the sentiment regardless with a vice grip. He reluctantly placed his box on top of the empty desk, grateful that in that moment, some other agent bounded over to distract his self-appointed guide.

“Darian! You hear anything yet?”

“No, but—“

“She’s getting canned. No ways about it.”

Darian shot a glance between Peter and this hulking man stuffed into a button-up. “Maybe we shouldn’t ta—“

“Oh, new guy. What’s your thing?”

And then, both sets of eyes were on Peter. He felt himself shrink a bit despite the fire in his stride just moments ago, before encountering any of these agents.

“Uh, me?” Peter quipped and immediately felt stupid. “Oh, yeah. Well, y’know, I’m… strong,” he cleared his throat and stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying to look much more casual than he felt. “And… I can run really fast, and… some other stuff…”

A few beats of quiet sludged by before the big guy snorted loudly. “They’re really scraping the barrel these days huh?”

Peter’s heart sank, heat rising up his neck in embarrassment. Darian must’ve felt a spark of pity because he nudged his fellow agent, leaving a little wet mark in his wake. “C’mon, Vic, don’t be like that. My boy Parker hasn’t even had his physical yet.”

The physical— would that be today? Peter wasn’t exactly in a physical performance type of mindset (or outfit). What would he have to do? Surely it wouldn’t just be a standard medical exam…

Clearly more amused than anything, Vic shrugged and took a sip from the thermos in his baseball-glove sized hand. “I guess we’ll see whenever Banner’s done chewing out the spaz.”

“Hey, that’s not cool, man,” Darian mumbled.

“What? Look, kid,” Vic looked pointedly at Peter, “I’m sorry to say it, but you picked the wrong time to follow your dreams. This place has taken a real shit, and it’s messy, and it stinks. It stinks real bad.”

Peter stiffly glanced at Darian, who matched his gaze, then looked back to Vic.

“In fact, this place is full of little shits. Little shits walking around, doing whatever they want, crashing into farmers markets—“

“Allegedly,” Darian intercepted, “but, continue.”

Vic grumbled. “I hate it when you interrupt me. What was I saying?”

There was a ringing low in Peter’s ears. He was in a vacuum in his own head, idly nodding along to whatever Vic was ranting about.

Maybe he made a mistake. Maybe he should’ve gone to trade school instead, become an electrician, something like that. That was a decent living. Something his aunt May could still humbly brag about to her friends at brunch.

No, he didn’t mean that. He couldn’t, when this had been his vision of his future for so long.

It was just the first day.

He hadn’t even had his physical yet.

It took Peter a moment to realize the conversation before him shifted. Vic and Darian both twisted around toward the elevator hall, so Peter tried to shake the cotton out of his ears and pay attention. He needed an out, somehow. He needed some time to clear his head.

Charlie threw up in the hallway again.

You skirted around the taped off tiles and eyed the suspect chemical burn staining the shiny surface. A putrid sort of burn clung to your sinuses as you passed by, making your eyes water up.

It felt like the universe was telling you off at this point.

And maybe it really was, because your stomach soured on the way to your desk, you scrambled to find your keys, and it seems like someone took your lunch from your cubicle. A scowl sat on your face as you shoved your laptop into your bag. Seconds weren’t quick enough as you gathered your things and made a beeline back to the elevator.

Passing through the heart of the 13th floor, your boots squeaked against the tile. You could smell your coworker Darian somewhere but worse than that, your blood pressure spiked once Vic’s familiar chuckle rang out.

“Looks like Banner’s free now, Parker,” his voice always boomed no matter how ‘quiet’ he was being.

You didn’t look their way, even when a set of rapid footsteps trailed behind you to the elevator.

“Excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice was behind you. Soft, but clear. And glancing up at his face, he seemed maybe just as stressed as you at that moment. Maybe. “Could you tell me how to find Dr. Banner?”

Hearing Dr. Banner’s name again pricked you in the moment, salt in a very fresh wound. You pressed the elevator button and sucked in a breath through your nose. “Floor 15, last door on the right.”

“Got it, thank you.” He paused. “I’m Peter Parker.” He blinked a few times and looked off to the side, an air of awkwardness clinging to him.

You flicked your gaze in his direction, adjusted the bag on your shoulder, and replied quietly with your name. The silver doors before you slid open after what felt like an eternity. You walked in, and a beat later, Peter followed, keeping a polite distance in the small space. A second after you pressed the buttons you both needed and the doors closed you in, Peter let out a breath. He coughed into his fist and tugged a little on his collar.

“Sorry. I’m not sick or anything, it’s just… um, allergies,” he said.

“No, it’s Darian. He smells like Sea World,” you replied.

A look of relief flashed over his face. “Okay, so I’m not the only one who…” he sighed, “I didn’t want to say anything. He seems nice.”

“He is nice. But he reeks. And he leaves little puddles everywhere.”

Mechanical whirring filled the tiny room. Peter scratched his nose and looked down, the ghost of a grin on his face. “Is there, um, anything I should know? Y’know, for onboarding stuff?” He asked like he was unsure of what he was saying the whole time.

Your bad mood hung stubbornly over you like storm clouds, but you answered anyway. “The physical is worse than you think.” The doors slid open to yet another sleek hallway, however, this one was remarkably easier to breathe in. “Also, the baby is the bomb,” you added.

Peter shot you a puzzled look, stilled in his spot. “Huh?”

Your finger hovering over the ‘close doors’ button was enough of a hint that you were ready to end this interaction. “Good luck,” you replied flatly, and watched Peter step out onto the 15th floor, looking more confused than reassured.

Finally alone with your thoughts, the elevator hummed softly as it brought you to the ground level. In this fleeting moment of privacy, you took a puff from the modified inhaler Banner had given you, and tucked it back into your bag.

Time to go home and ruminate.

Peter wondered, briefly, if Tony Stark had ever heard of OSHA.

Sweat ran down his temples, already soaked into his hair. His feet smacked against the treadmill over and over like they had for the past however many miles, and he could barely feel his legs anymore, but they kept moving. He was thankful, at the very least, that he didn’t have to do all this in slacks and a button-up. The Stark Intel athletic shorts and sneakers they’d provided him didn’t fit quite right, but he tried not to get too philosophical about it.

Dr. Banner watched Peter, eyeing the wires and machines attached to him as he ran in place. It’d been a long afternoon of gathering data, trying to cover all the superpowered bases.

The agents that came to work at Stark Intel were all unique, with their own… talents. Strength, agility, endurance, extraordinary ability. The physical was not only designed to take record of Peter’s capabilities, but to iron out specifics like required tech or accommodations for suits.

Also, he needed to settle on a name. And a suit design, or something. But he didn’t have space to think about that at the moment.

“Excellent, Peter,” Dr. Banner spoke into the microphone and scribbled something down on the form before him. “Winding down now. This concludes the endurance portion of the exam.”

Peter huffed out labored breaths as the treadmill steadily slowed to a stop. His muscles ached and his lungs burned and the sweat stung in his eyes, but at least it was over.

Turns out your warning in the elevator was blunt but honest. The exam was definitely worse than he thought it’d be. Peter was strong, and Peter was fast, and he thought proving it would be no big deal — but he completely ate his confidence once the simulations started.

The situations ranged wildly from things like helping a lost child find their caregiver, to finding and defusing a bomb (you were right, again — it was strapped to the bottom of a stroller).

The technology available to Stark Intel was beyond impressive, and undoubtedly more than expensive.

A gush of cool air washed over him as the lab door slid open and Banner strolled inside. He offered Peter a bottle of water, which he gulped down almost instantly. “Very promising results. All that’s left is the ending analysis.” Banner smiled politely and tucked Peter’s file under his arm. “You’re free to use our showers. I’ll be waiting in my office for you when you’re ready.”

Peter nodded and thanked him but he felt like jelly on his way to the locker room. The shower helped, hot water doing what it could to his screaming muscles, but Peter was still looking forward to heading home and flopping onto his bed. He changed back into his original office attire, grimacing at the dried-but-still-very-visible handprint still on his shoulder.

Banner’s office was spacious, with potted plants and large windows but a comically small chair pulled up to the front of his desk, like a child was visiting before he came by.

“Have a seat,” Banner gestured vaguely to the chair, his eyes occupied on all of Peter’s paperwork.

Peter raised his brows but sat in the plastic chair anyway. He shifted around a bit uncomfortably and waited quietly for the older man to start.

Banner pointed to some lines of his own handwriting on the page. “Peter Parker. Twenty-four, graduated from Midtown Technical Highschool. Attended one year at NYU. Computer Science.”

Peter’s leg started bouncing while he listened, despite how fatigued he was. Nerves know no limits.

“Superior strength, agility, endurance, and heightened senses. He can also scale vertical surfaces and completely support himself, even upside down.”

“What, so he’s sticky ?” Tony Stark’s voice nearly made Peter jump as it cut into the room. Banner grinned toward his computer screen before looking back to Peter, waiting for him to answer.

Peter blinked a few times. “Uh, well, not generally, sir.”

“But you stick to walls?”

“I, um, I can. If I wanted to.”

Banner held his hand to his chin, amused in the moment. “Continuing, Tony,” he mused, looking back down at the paper, “strong sense of morality and ambition. Average to above average simulation results. Viable for both offensive and defensive procedures.”

“Sounds green to me.” Tony chuckled through the speaker. “Get it, Bruce?”

Banner shook his head, amusement mostly gone now, as he scribbled some more words onto the page. “Very funny, Tony.”

“Didn’t hear the kid laugh, but we’ll work on it. Anyways, you got a name in mind? Some kinda motif you wanna work with?”

He hadn’t gotten that far yet. Not seriously, anyways. He’d spent a few years doodling out different costume designs that came to him in daydreams, but Peter felt creativity wasn’t usually his strong suit.

“Um, not really, sir,” he replied, shifting in the little chair.

“You have time to work on it,” Banner said, signing his name on the bottom of a few forms. “Your next few shifts will be mostly in the lab while we work on a suit for you. Of course, your input and participation is encouraged and valued.”

With the t’s crossed and the i’s dotted, Banner dismissed Peter for the day and sent him on his way with a laminated information booklet and a brief goodbye from Tony’s disembodied voice.

Peter wasted no time getting home. The moment he was inside his door, he kicked off his shoes and collapsed in the middle of his bed. A good few minutes passed full of nothing – just the gentle tick of his ceiling fan, the faint hum of his refrigerator down the hall, and his good-natured attempts at deep breaths.

Underneath the visceral relief of being home and motionless, he was proud of himself for everything he had made it through earlier. He couldn’t be making a mistake when he felt so accomplished at the end of the day, right? Change is usually rough and uncomfortable at first.

Somehow, his mind wandered back to his interaction with you at the elevator.

Vic mentioned you getting fired (and being Little Shit #1), though you didn’t empty out your desk on your way out. He didn’t exactly seem like a reliable source of information anyway.

Sleep took Peter before he could ruminate any further.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #mcu!peter parker x reader #mcu #spiderman

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angelst4t · 9 months ago

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the five love languages boyfriends

physical touch;

always has to be touching you - locked pinkies in public, hand on your lower back while walking, arm wrapped around you on the couch, head on your lap in bed • kisses, always, often randomly and out of nowhere • possibly a big biter/nibbler • hugshugshugs • late night dances under the kitchen light • clinging like koalas as you drift off to sleep

words of affirmation;

constant praises and genuine compliments - has the sweetest and kindest way with words • quiet ‘i love you’s every now and then • karaoke dedications • staying up late, just to listen to him read out loud to you • new pet/nickname every other day • makes you giggle at the saddest of times

quality time;

always around and always has something planned - just loves you and your presence • loves to spoil you and loves to take you out • home made meals, made with pure love • live concerts in your living room • little finger brushes while working on a project together • marathoning movies are always a must

gift giving;

very sentimental and very crafty - always has a little trinket for you, whether homemade, found, or bought • pays attention to your interests, an amazing listener • leaves little sticky notes and poetry laying around for you • often bakes treats for you • crow boyfriend, giving you pretty rocks he finds along the streets • always finds a way to spoil you

acts of service

often busy and on his feet, he’s always giving you hand no matter the task - at the drop of a hat, he’d probably do about anything for you • he always puts you first • opens your doors for you with the sweetest smile and a little twinkle in his eyes • soft hums as you sort and fold your laundry together • washes and combs your hair for you • always ends the night with a back/shoulder/hand rub

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hwaightme · 2 years ago

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Your fan, Yeosang (part 1)

(part 2) (your fan ml)

📺 pairing: yeosang x talk show host!reader 📺 genre: romance, fluff, mutual pining, 📺 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if yeosang was stanning you 📺 wordcount: 3.5k 📺 warnings/tags: language, yeosang lowkey writing fanfics, manhandling, wooyoung attacks, roommate gathering, mc yeosang, reader is a late night talk show host, exo and txt appearances, wooyoung has connections everywhere, yeosang always has a plan even when you think he doesn't 📺 taglist: @acciocriativity, @senpai-of-doom, @layzfeelit @jcngh0-hq @ficrecsiguess 📺 a/n: Hello there <3 guess who's next in line to stan? None other than Kang to the Yeo to the Sang!! Hope you enjoy, much love and big hugs, and any asks, reblogs and likes appreciated <3

All the way back, even from the stories of your childhood that your parents would tell you, you always had a thing for asking a lot of questions, without giving up until you got a response.

And you did not stop at "why is the sky blue", oh no, you would go right in and ask whoever you had picked to be your target questions along the lines of "why are good people good at giving love but not receiving it".

It was not because you wanted to annoy anyone, in fact, you never once got mad when someone brushed you off or openly expressed their distaste for what they called "your pointless chatter". Quite the opposite. You enjoyed getting into the nitty gritty of human emotions, really getting a feel for other people's energy.

In return, if you were able to make conversation and really connect with someone, you tried your best to be caring, attentive and selfless. You were the smiley toddler who waved at everyone. You were the kid in school who made sure everyone was included.

Although the more people you spoke to, the more not so positive experiences you got, you were not discouraged from pursuing a career in doing exactly what you loved. Talking, listening and learning all that you could about your interlocutors. You could not imagine your life without other people, and as such, ended up being the person who brought others together, and helped them rise to new heights.

First, it was broadcasting and radio clubs in middle school and high school, as well as earning the reputation of being the go-to host for talent shows. In university you had become the president of the Broadcasting & Journalism society, and had led your alma mater's socials and student-led news show to gaining recognition in national media for their quality, insightfulness, and a fresh, memorable feel.

All throughout your journey, you were driven by people and wanted to learn more about them. So when, while you were hopping between internships, you were scouted by a major media label to become a fulltime journalist and prospectively a show host, it was nothing short of the best thing to happen to you in your life.

Initially, it was a rollercoaster, with you being thrown around from one project to another, working in areas where you had to learn on the go - screenwriting assistant, director's assistant... truth be told you had no idea there could be that many assistants.

What had stuck to you were a couple of variety shows that you had the chance to see behind the scenes, along with a couple more formal interviews. The gears in your head started turning, as you watched the high profile figures, promoting themselves, going through the usual routines, doing aegyo and whatnot.

To you, celebrities were a sort of beautiful enigma, even though it initially seemed that their entire lives were available to the public - how wrong. Behind each persona was someone else entirely, and you adored catching glimpses of said realness.

This was exactly what had motivated you to propose the concept for your late night show "Late Night Dive". Dedicated to deep diving, and really getting to know idols, actors and the like, your show was all about the person. Not excessively curated, just pleasantly minimalist. Raw. Real.

Thanks to your prior experience in being a stand-in announcer for a twenty-four hour news channel (aside from what you had done while in education), you were no stranger to being in front of the camera, and having worked in enough departments to make strong connections, your boss agreed to give you a chance.

And now, here you were, going strong, having become a celebrity that interviewed celebrities.

---

And were watched diligently by others. Others like ATEEZ's Kang Yeosang.

Although he had continuous exposure to performing, speaking singing on stage, and had even become an MC for The Show, he never, not for one second, thought he had the right to rest.

He was always looking for ways to improve and to hone the skills that he considered lacking (even when his fellow members and ATINY would praise him). For Yeosang, there was no such thing as 'stop'.

Aside from upping his game quite literally whilst playing the newly released Aenigmata, and working together with Hongjoong and Mingi to improve his song-writing abilities, he was determined to be the next best MC and spent day after day working on it.

He took monologues and repeated them until he, nor his roommates, could stand it any longer. He went over cue cards to improve his memory and to combat his instinct to hide behind them and read whilst looking down. He listened to shows, paid extra attention to the MCs he worked with and those he interacted with through the group's promotional activities - anything was good in his books.

Yeosang knew how to listen, he felt deeply, he was always there for those closest to him, but he did not want to let his members down when it came to speaking and engaging in fun dialogues live. The desire to find his own style grew stronger, day by day.

It would be foolish to try and be like the others, he had concluded. And the members had told him the same during one late night conversation where Yeosang had brought up his concerns about being a talk show host. So, it was clear:

"I am Yeosang, and I am not like other girls." he had proclaimed, with a dramatic 'hair flip'.

He began to search for inspiration outside of standard variety shows and music award programmes, having grasped their methods well enough to emulate. For some time, Yeosang focused on competitions and survival shows, though it did not exactly bring him comfort, nor confidence. That was when it hit him - late night talk shows. They were entertaining, informative, and had a completely different feel.

And after browsing through popular lists and and making his own (only to cross items off again), pushing through his disappointment when he discovered that far too many of said shows were still obnoxiously loud and better watched at double speed, he had finally discovered one show that was exactly to his tastes: 'Late Night Dive'.

Intentionally toned down studio set, warm lighting that gave off a more 'homely' atmosphere, music used staying within the realms of rhythm and blues or smooth jazz, and you truly being the host. The show and you were a perfect match, so he was not surprised when after a bit of Googling he had found out that the show had been your initiative.

You were welcoming. The episode that had established 'Late Night Dive' as a sought-after promotion for various celebrities, with none other than EXO, had shown your deep understanding of their journey, their challenges, and nothing but utmost respect. You had a unique way of easing guests into the questions, and stepping away as soon as there was even a hint of tension.

It was as though you could see right into their soul, and was gently bringing the best parts to share, whilst encouraging the owner that yes, they were safe, and what they had to share was valid, and beyond beautiful.

Yeosang had no idea how to describe the feeling he got while watching some more episodes of your show. The way you guided the conversation and posed questions in such a manner that meant an individual had options (instead of being cornered into making a fool of themselves, for instance), had left him in utter disbelief.

He was used to surprises - the veering off-script for a gag, or for emphasising an error committed for comedic effect. This was entirely absent. In fact, during a particularly sensitive episode where an actress had divulged some details about her struggles while filming a new drama (information that had never surfaced before), you had explicitly asked for consent to air, and in a borderline therapeutic voice had commended the actress for what she had been doing.

You were a bringer of tranquility. You were there not for a superficial chat and waves goodbye, it seemed that every episode was a glimpse into a tale of life-long friendship. And this stunned Yeosang. You knew exactly what to say, even though he had not spotted any cards, nor any sign of reading from a screen at any point. Your heart was working for you, he was sure of it.

This was the style he wanted to learn.

To keep it on the low, he started his quest by allocating half an hour, every night, to what he called 'LND Time'. This involved him creeping away from the rest of the members, plugging his headphones in, and, notepad and pen in hand, noting down particularly well-phrased questions or statements that you had made.

Yeosang had also begun to enjoy writing down observations for what gestures that you did were effective in emphasising a point, which ones were done for reassurance, which ones were plain cute-

He was writing fan fiction about you wasn't he? While he was in the midst of processing the fact that he had, over the span of a few of weeks, had nearly filled out an entire pocket notepad with just you facts, and needed his brain to reboot, a voice right behind him made all his systems crash.

"What'cha writin'?"

So much for privacy. He thanked the lucky stars that he had the reflexes to slam the book shut and lie down on it before Wooyoung could see anything. Though he knew his friend would not let go of any suspicious behaviour that easily.

Especially not when your show continued playing on his phone, that was lying upright, and of course there had to be a close up of your gorgeous face, then and there for Wooyoung to see.

"OOOOH HOLD ON A SECOND!? Forget THAT question what are you WATCHING? CAN I JOIN?"

"My guy, didn't I tell you and Jongho to leave me alone for half an hour?"

"Now I am more than fascinated by what exactly you do alone in this room for half an hour!? Besides, it's been one and a half hours now, and I kind of live here too~" Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows as he explained, and while Yeo was busy taking his earphones out and locking his phone for good measure, Wooyoung went in for a full attack.

He tackled Yeosang, and since he managed to use the surprise to his advantage, nearly pushed his friend off the bed with the notebook exposed.

But, in gains we trust.

And so did Yeosang. In a matter of seconds, he had Wooyoung flailing his arms and legs as he had been swung over his shoulder like a toga, and turned to 'kindly' teach his friend a new way of using the door.

The commotion had gained the attention of Jongho, who had been passing the time by belting 90's hit songs at the top of his voice in the living room - much to the delight of those he had been keeping as (hostages) an audience.

Claiming that his roommates had finally decided to hold an idol boxing match and that he had promised to referee, he placed his hands behind his back and ambled towards a now slightly open door, through which he could see Wooyoung pushing against the frame with his dear life.

"You are doing MMA in here wait let me grab the guys-"

"NONONONONO JONGHO SAVE ME!"

"And what will I get out of it?"

"....I'll clean the room?" Wooyoung offered, still suspended in midair, but, having wriggled a little way forward was on the verge of toppling onto the floor.

"Woo you'll do it anyway." Jongho replied, smiling just a tid-bit sadistically and crossing his arms.

He stepped into the room and shut the door with his foot, scrutinising the aftermath of the impromptu match. Nothing was on fire, nor was any furniture broken - so he was still going to have to share with two roommates.

In an act of mercy, Jongho decided that he was too bored to prolong the older member's suffering and motioned to Yeosang for attention.

"Put the guy down. And I don't mean like euthanasia. Even though he barks."

"HEY EXCUSE ME."

"I'll leave that pleasure to myself if you are going to act up."

"Okay brutal but thank you Jongho~" now finally back on his feet, the dazed member was shaking himself off and pressing his hands to his face in a feeble attempt to cool down.

"Now I know the real origin story of your hair. It was Yeo's doing wasn't it?"

"Yeah the blood flow really does something." Wooyoung agree, instinctively running his hands through his locks.

Yeosang had edged away from the two members back to his bed, to take the opportunity to hide the notepad somewhere, anywhere. He only had time to shove it under his pillow, but neither Jongho nor Wooyoung seemed to notice, as the former merely stated:

"Well good, now let's chat, gents."

Did Yeosang want to chat? No.

Did Jongho look done with everyone? Yes.

Did that mean he had to be at least a little bit considerate of his friend? Probably.

But did he want to though? No.

"What is there to chat about though?" he blurted, flopping down on his bed and stretching across its length, resting his head on his palms.

"Uh, well it's the room hogging for me." Jongho retorted, settling right across from him while Wooyoung sat at the foot of Yeo's bed.

"No such thing. I just need space."

"I don't have a problem with that dude, and you know I don't, but if you tell us why, that would be great." the maknae was persistent, and leaned in to click his fingers over Yeo's face a couple of times when he unceremoniously shut them to pretend he was in another galaxy.

"Jongho, he keeps notes." the redhead stage whispered, glancing at Yeosang, who looked like he was ready to exploit Wooyoung's choice of sitting too close to his legs.

"What notes?"

"Ones that he would kill me for."

"Kind of a cheap exchange, but makes sense."

"Boo that's rude-"

"The notes, Yeo? Songwriting?"

"Sure." finally seeing some sort of opportunity to steer clear of explaining himself, he took Jongho's question as a suggestion for a fib to tell.

"Smells like bullshit to me, my boy." but he forgot they knew him a little too well.

"Agreed, plus I saw a certain lady on a screen~"

There was no way of getting around this, but Yeosang was a man who did not give up that easily, so he resisted:

"No, seriously, it was a song! And that, well haha, uhm, a tutorial? Yeah."

"Sing the song then!" Wooyoung implored, patting his friend on his knee in encouragement.

"No melody?"

"What is it about?" Jongho joined back in.

"Uhh............ fried chicken." Yeosang was impressed by his own mastery. Truly, a one of a kind lie. Stellar. Award winning. At least the two looked a lot more accepting of his secretive warfare than before.

So he ended up being strong enough to make Jongho impatient and leave the room. The same could not be said for Wooyoung, who was now attempting to smother him by hugging out his soul.

"YEOSANG DON'T CONCEAL DO FEEL AND DO LET THEM KNOW! Well more specifically let me know because I can see you are super passionate about something and I really want to feel that passion with you because hey this is what brotherly bonding is about and I want to rejoice in the positivity and you have no idea how proud I am of you and so I really wanted to spend some time together just the two of us and really just wanted to say that you have grown so much and did you know that you have absolutely been slaying the episodes for your MCing gig-"

"Wait really?" Yeosang shot up, abruptly cutting off Wooyoung's stream of words.

After Wooyoung reloaded himself for a second, he half asked, half confirmed with an: "uh, yeah?"

"Like how, in what way? What aspects?

"Weren't we talking about-"

"We passed that checkpoint, keep moving. In what way did I improve?"

Wooyoung's total confusion nearly made Yeosang chortle as he slid down to sit by him, but he was too eager to hear what his friend had to say.

"Well... there was this... thing you did. I think it was even off script? But you did it so naturally it was almost like dorm-Yeo rather than 'I am now on stage and I must be strict with myself'-Yeo. You just picked up on something one of the other MC's said and your words just flowed. You just flowed. And even how you were standing was slightly different. Dare I say, you looked a lot more comfortable in front of the camera!"

"Okay I will tell you what I was watching."

"What was so special about that compliment?"

"For the few weeks I've been hogging this room I've been training. And I have found the perfect teacher."

Wooyoung asked him to backtrack and explain in more detail, which he did, step by step. He recounted the search he had gone on, his motivations, and finally, how he had found you. With newfound confidence he took out his phone and showed Wooyoung a couple of his favourite clips, all while running a background commentary of why you might just be the best talk show host and interviewer of all time. If there was ever a moment for Wooyoung to melt, it would be now. Yeosang's enthusiasm and appreciation of your work was not only infectious (and completely well-founded), but also came right from the heart.

It was clearer than a blue sky that you had become Yeosang's hope in the MC world. He had not exposed himself fully, but Wooyoung could guess that his friend probably had done a deep dive on you already, and continued watching your shows exclusively not just because you were 'a good teacher'.

This man, was a fan. Likely a little bit (a lot) more than just that. So what did such an amazing friend like Wooyoung have to do, despite being manhandled barely twenty minutes ago?

Network. Find connections. And bring you two together.

"Yeo, how would it make you feel if you got to meet Y/N? Like, face to face?"

"I would probably forget my own mother tongue, but aside from that - I would just be grateful. I could pass her a note about how much she..."

"Means to you-"

"HELPED me, Woo."

"Yeah, whatever. But now I have a goal!" he rose up, fist raised as if he was about to start a revolution.

"Wait wait wait what are you trying here?"

"TO SET UP YOUR FUTURE, DUH! Now excuse me, I have some phone calls to make.

So, Yeosang's spur of the moment plan had worked seamlessly. He patted himself on the back as he watched an over-excited Wooyoung strut out of his room, already messaging someone and simultaneously calling an already-waiting Jongho over.

It was quite easy to get Wooyoong to be a perfect middle man if one were to act the at the right levels of mysteriousness. Since he knew he had been cornered, Yeosang decided to change strategies and get something out of his fellow members, who would undoubtedly get excited about any mention of him treating someone outside of the group with such care and attention (especially if he did not know them personally).

He played the part of 'I am shy and not revealing my secrets', then transforming that demeanour into 'you are the closest person to me so I am telling the truth and baring my heart to you'. And BAM, he could now hear Wooyoung shushing the other members as he was calling Yeonjun from TXT.

Yeosang was impressed, however, when it took his friend only three days to go through his connections, and through his connections' connections and find the ones that led directly to you. And to a meeting with you, to which you somehow agreed, though under an odd condition.

That someday, you could interview him.

"As MC to MC. As two people with a similar style and passion."

You were one two keep your finger on the pulse of media at all times. And when you heard what you knew to be a quote from an older episode of LND, said in a similar manner to yours, you simply had to speak to the MC who had done it. After all, you had a thing for asking a lot of questions.

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helpwerami · 1 year ago

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Osomatsusan headcanons cause I’m bored

This is more on a take on them in a more psychological/meta pov on them.

Osomatsu

-He’s still irresponsible as the show states repetitively, but I think there’s a deep under layered of anger issues. Maybe feeling like he’s stuck being unemployed and can’t change his life, or feels like his feelings are put on the sidelines.

-oso secretly very stressed but hides it by playing it down. Being the oldest but not the most matured may be a result of him trying to get some control of himself or over small things.

-He acts sexist and pervs on girls on the regular. I like incorporating the old show to the new one, specifically we’re oso was a ballerina,and wore womens swimsuits. So I like to think he secretly wants to be more feminine and dress feminine, but fears the shame or backlash of his family. He Avoids and projects his wants and desires in a more “masculine” manner instead.

-The problem with him at the root of it all is that he doesn’t want to change. He’s comfortable, he’s unfamiliar to change. Therefore he sees change as a threat.

-Oso’s anger makes him go quiet and visibly irritated. Storming off out of the house for a few hours before coming right back.

-He’s an alcoholic,smokes,gambles,unemployed,lives with his parents guy. He doesn’t want to change.

Karamatsu

-The most confident in himself. His fashion is questionable ofc but it shows how willing he his to present himself. Albeit his made up persona of himself.

-Closeted. His brothers have made comments of his clothes looking gay and how he acts is gay as-well, but he can take that. He thinks if he actually comes out he thinks he’s giving more ammo for his brothers to put him down

-Kara is secretly the most matured. He uses his persona as a shield to deflect his brothers judgement. Later in more recent seasons you see him start to not use his persona less and less, and his brothers caught on it even,but when faced with the confrontation he gets aggravated and even intimidates his brothers when he gets mad.

-On a more positive note I would like to think he got his jacket from

-Kara’s more of a job hopper. Never keeping one and doing small gigs like street shows or helping Chibita with his business.

Choromatsu

-he tries to act better or more mature than he really is. Helps his mother with taxes and some small chores but he uses this to put himself on a higher horse in comparison to his brothers.

-wares a collared shirt under his hoodie kind of shit.

-he gets very defensive about very small things. Considered being more short tempered than the sophisticated role he tries to put up.

- he hides his love for anime and idols away from his brothers because he’s ashamed of himself for liking it. Although most already know because he buys copious amounts of merch and tickets for idol shows.

-though he does look after his brothers in a more keeping tabs sort of way than a mom would. Comment or would ask if they’d showered or brush their teeth that day then lecture them to do so. This does help some of them positively to keep somewhat of a schedule.

-I want to say he’d might want to work at a manga/anime shop or something, but I’d doubt it. he’d be too ashamed to work at one. He feels like degenerates or creeps work at manga stores. (Even though that’s verbatim what he is.) would maybe end up in a book/convince store ran by an old lady.

Ichimatsu

-he’s my favorite so take some of this with a grain of salt.

-he hides how he feels. His antisocial behavior and dislike of the general public is why he turned to cats.

-uses cats as a coping mechanism and hyper fixation. Shows some signs of being on the spectrum be he doesn’t want to know the diagnosis/ answer to what specifically he has. He feels like it’s searching for an excuse for the way he is. (Not in a ableist way but more in a learned helplessness way.)

-low hygiene. Either Smells like cat piss or just body odor. His depression not helping him at that, choro runs his mouth at him on the regular for this. But instead of picking up that he’s maybe depressed, he calls him lazy and gross for ‘sulking in his filth’.

- oso and ichi are more closer in a bond because of their similar nature. The only difference between them is that oso is more accepting and chill about his current state. While ichi is more pessimistic and hopeless in his. Giving each other nicknames to show there on good terms.

-gets small jobs at local restaurants. working at the back cleaning dishes and taking out the trash.

-looks after jyushi. Finding solace in his more cheerful enthusiastic nature to his pessimistic one.

Jyushimatsu

-autistic with adhd. dresses more for comfort than to present himself. Highly energetic with not much sense of social cues or sarcasm.

-he’s more of a good influence on the brothers by bringing them outside when he wants to go out, instead of being shut-ins. He helps them have more to do than gamble or drink.

-i like to think he’d have a long distance relationship with him and Homura. Like todo got him a Nokia so he wouldn’t break it and to call her now and then. It would give him some one positive to talk to and she’d have him to talk to.

-he likes to hang out with ichi on the regular. Help ichi get out of the house, and then go feed stray cats in ally’s.

-maybe he’d volunteer at daycare’s or babysit if he needed to work. Showing in some episodes that he’s good with kids.

Todomatsu

-The most put together. Has his job at a cafe in the city and usually has good luck when gambling on pachinko.

-Openly gay with his family. They weren’t too surprised and he wasn’t to scared about it either since he already dressed in more pink and flamboyant clothing,and having friends that are mostly girls.or fuck it he had friends period.

-The most social brother. He tried to bring some of his brothers to mixers but it didn’t end up too well. Either in their brothers getting them kicked out or in other times or his own exclusion.

-I feel like he could move out if he wanted he makes his own income to have a phone and can walk or take a bus to his job. Maybe own an apartment of some kind.

-this might also go hand in hand with the fact he’s scared to be alone. He’s never not been alone for so long that when he finally is, it scares him. It’s unfamiliar to him.

-in the episode were they all got tortured in hell we saw the demon read his dairy. It said he wanted to dress like a girl and be like a girl, then you see him almost cry from the embarrassment.

-I think he’s questioning in his gender,but is to scared to explore that part of himself yet.

I do feel like As much as they hate or irritate each other, a key reason they don’t move out minus the money or occupation, is that their all unconsciously codependent on each other. If they even wanted to move out, the thought/feeling of being alone is so out their comfort zone and unfamiliar they’d rather spend their lives with familiarity.

#osomatsu matsuno #osomatsusan #mr. osomatsu #osomatsu au #osomatsu san #karamatsu #choromatsu matsuno #choromatsu #karamatsu matsuno #ichimatsu matsuno #ichimatsu #jyushimatsu matsuno #jyushimatsu #jyushimura #todomatsu #todomatsu matsuno #osomatsu san headcanons #osomatsu headcanon

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maxwell-grant · 2 years ago

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Street Fighter 6: Issue #2 thoughts

Not at all a fan of this new art style especially for the women characters but I must say, I never thought Street Fighter of all franchises would make their geriatric Russian terrorist wizard villain look cute and not as an ironic thing.

Seriously though he looks WAY different than he does in-game, but I’m not complaining. I actually really like how Johann is drawn here, one of the highlights of this issue for me. The way he’s drawn here actually succeeds in making him look like he’s not a villain. He looks way more like someone you could buy as a deceiver, someone who’d trick you into giving your savings away to help poor starving children.

They scale him down hardcore from his game design in a way that would suck if this was meant to be in-game, but here? It works great. He has this breath of expression that you just don’t see in the usual villains of the series, because he is putting a lot of effort into pretending not to be one and actually succeeding! He gets sad and worried over hearing about the opposition, he reacts with convincing shock over the broadcast, he looks scared and distressed over the news reporters closing in, he even displays enough moments of genuine concern over his assistant without anyone looking. I know none of this is that groundbreaking but we never actually see fighting game villains in storylines putting in effort when it comes to this stuff, even the ones we’re supposed to buy as great deceivers or upstanding public figures. The art style really does a lot for him here.

In fact, JP in-game doesn’t act like this, he quite clearly embraces his villainy more openly in it, which means this is pointing to a neat little arc of sorts where we’re seeing Johann on the backfoot working the long game in terms of attaining power, versus in-game where he’s clearly not afraid of openly skewering and poisoning his opponents with Psycho Power and then making a point out of not crushing their heads beneath his heel when he’s through because they are that insignificant to him, and I really want to see that mask-off transition as it plays out.

Okay so for those viewers at home trying to keep track of the score so far: After last issue where Ken was almost assassinated with a car bomb in the midst of a political riot, this issue kicks off with him being framed by a terrorist hacker group of anti-capitalists dressed like plague doctors (a BANGER of a fitting design choice the more I think about it) who wish to “expose the agents of chaos to the world”, who seem to be using A.I deepfakes to frame Ken and claim he was both working with the Nayshall establishment as well as funding terrorists to manipulate the cryptocurrency market, and that they have seized these funds to be “an iron hammer, swung down upon the head of all capitalist exploiters”.

And this is part of a master plot to increase viral searches for Nayshall and the tournament, thus driving the crypto value up as well as bets related to it, which we know has to with a N.G.O oligarch and policy advisor’s personal project to secure military power and political stability for his nation through, among other things, viral popularity and weaponization of content and successfully scamming a billionaire into thoughtlessly tanking his country’s economy so he may rebuild it better than before.

...

I feel like I should clarify that Street Fighter and pretty much all fighting game have never really so much as acknowledged the word “capitalism” before, let alone made a plotline focused on it. And yeah the “anti-capitalist terrorist” is a loaded archetype to say the minimum in it’s own right, I’m certainly trying to keep expectations measured, but look, it is insane that this is happening at all, this is the franchise putting on big boy pants in regards to a storyline in a way it never really has before.

Street Fighter’s been dark enough allright, even too much, and it individually brushed past or even handled mature storylines from time and time, but it’s never remotely been this topical or even tried to be, it’s never made a conscious effort to go hard on being political, that’s just not what fighting games tend to do. Maybe they’ll botch it, maybe it’ll just be window dressing, but I’ve not been dissappointed so far and I think it’s very commendable that they’re actually giving it an effort here.

(Also calling it right now that Amnesia’s leader is JP’s assistant)

How long was this before the game? In this, Chun-Li’s still with Interpol and got promoted apparently, but in-game she’s clarified as an ex-agent. So how much time passed?

Chun-Li’s fairly boring in here visually and character-wise, I’m not happy to see her as a cop ever. I like them putting her in work clothes and putting the characters in different outfits in general, but I don’t like how generic she looks. I like her scene with Li-Fen though.

Completely forgot Li-Fen was put in SFV as a hacker prodigy because I forget most things about SFV on the regular, but I dig her being Chun’s “guy in the chair”. Some people got confused by it but I dig that Li-Fen calls Chun her older sister, that’s kind of a role Chun-Li’s played before with other characters and I like that it makes their dynamic more casual than if it was a mom - daughter kind of thing, gives them more room to bicker a little and I think it gives Li-Fen a little more independence in their dynamic.

I do like that Chun-Li clarifies she isn’t fooled one bit by the video and that she’s keeping Ken in custody for his own safety, because Ken turned into a worldwide-hunted criminal overnight and it’s the safest place for him to be on. I also like that they’re clearly not close and barely even recall meeting each other and so they don’t really talk things through, I like it because it acknowledges that these characters don’t all know or even like each other just because they’re on the same sides. Small thing I know, but the more recent games really homogenized the cast dynamics so I like anything that corrects that.

Oh man now THIS is great, Ken is so fucked. I need to talk about this guy.

This is deepfake A.I Ken, and if anything he looks way too convincing to be an A.I thing (but then again Street Fighter has enough sci-fi tech, I mean Seth was a thing years before this and so were the Illuminati shape-shifters), but putting all that aside, damn, this was kind of a revelation to me. I finally figured out why I just never liked Violent Ken as a concept and this is why: because he quite clearly should have always been THIS guy.

Violent Ken was designed as a counterpart to Evil Ryu, a Ryu who’s overtaken by the Satsui no Hadou and fully given in to his worst self, but because Ken doesn’t have the Dark Hadou, instead he’s based on the SF II film concept of Ken having been fully brainwashed by Bison’s Psycho Power. He’s not that terrible a concept or design, I think the SVC Chaos artwork is pretty cool, but he was never really worth much, not that much more interesting than if they did like, Evil Dan or Sakura (...well I guess they did do both at some point).

See, Evil Ryu as a character is not the best idea in the series by a long shot, but he works mainly because he’s Ryu designed around Akuma, which is not just cool but also works meaningfully, since Akuma was already designed to be Ryu’s darker opposite and ultimate enemy. Besides the fact that “hero becomes like their own worst enemy” is a time-tested cool idea with a lot of storytelling power and Akuma being an incredible all-timer design that is very clearly worth ripping off, Evil Ryu takes the shared traits they have, powerful martial artists who wander the world in pursuit of strong opponents to challenge them and to prove themselves the greatest among warriors, and twists Ryu into the fascimile of Akuma that he always dreaded becoming and was always in danger of becoming with or without supernatural bloodlust, changing very little about his motivation.

I’d argue Evil Ryu only really reached his potential as a character when brought back for IV, when they made him look like a monstrous and savage endgame for Ryu instead of just Ryu with a tan, and showed more thoroughly what would happen if Ryu was consumed by the Satsui. His already tattered gi is shredded beyond repair, he burns with overflowing uncontrolled power, and he is more animalistic and brutal than even Akuma because he has no control whatsoever over this power. Like Ryu, he lives for battle, he wanders the world with nothing on his back to seek out and fight the strongest warriors, but he has fully devolved into a fighting beast who fights and maims and kills wantonly, who finds no answer in the heart of battle because the heart isn’t there anymore and there’s only a volcanic gaping necrotic mark of shame and tragedy where it should have been.

Twisting Ryu to make him more like Akuma works because Akuma is Ryu’s nemesis, and because they have enough in common to have a middleground, something that Ryu cannot concede ground on (because the one time he did, he nearly killed the world’s strongest fighter with a cheap shot attack, over a fight he clearly lost). But twisting the other shotos to be more like Akuma always felt more tacked on than anything, because they just don’t have the same dynamic and motivation that Ryu has, and that’s kinda the major problem I have with Violent Ken: he’s an evil version of Ken who actually has nothing to do with Ken’s character, he’s just an imitation of Evil Ryu in Ken cosplay, and he doesn’t even get to fall in the dark side of his own accord since it’s Bison’s doing.

And so this is why I think this, this thing that shows up for like a couple of pages? This is what Evil/Violent Ken should have always looked like. A Ken who becomes the worst version of himself, who maintains his basic character and motivations but is wholly and completely stripped of humanity, isn’t going to be a fighting hobo in torn clothing and an obsession with pursuing strength, because that’s not what Ken is.

Ken is the upper class rival who has everything his rival does not, the champ who flaunts his strength and privilege and fights with flash and style, the “arrogant steward of globalized capitalism” as he’s called in the comic. Evil Ken isn’t going to be a battle berserker caked in blood and dirt, he’s going to be Dio Brando squeezed into an immaculate yuppie shitbag suit. He’s going to be the picture-perfect image of selfishness

I frankly really hope this design shows up again even past whatever else they have planned for this cover-up. I love this split-second idea of Evil Ken too much to never see it again. I really want Terrorist A.I Ken to be a thing they bring back.

#street fighter #sf6 #street fighter 6 #capcom #ken #ken masters #jp #johann petrovich #chun-li #li-fen #videogames #sf6 comic

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dairy-farmer · 1 year ago

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Tim is the other woman and he's content to be one. He just doesn't have much time or interest in maintaining a relationship. But initiating a casual relationship with any single men, usually ends up with those men urging for more. And whenever Tim actually does try to make it work, Tim just becomes suddenly so busy. There seems to be an uptick in the amount of work in WE and cases to solve. Tim is either called away to help his family with cases or called away by Bruce to work on a project that mysteriously went awry or a new project he thought up and made a fuss about. So Tim decides to just exclusively fuck married men. He's happy with that. He's so happy with this arrangement, he's the other woman in multiple marriages at the same time

And then those men decided that they're done having to hide Tim in the shadows and divorced their wives

😍😍😍😍😍😍 tim falling into the 'other woman' trope like in a lot of angst fics except this time it's his choice because he made the very logical deduction that the only way to get a consistent and casual relationship that had no chance of ever turning into "more" was to go after married men. and tim is familiar with the "other woman" in relationships. his dad's "secret girlfriend" had babysat him a handful of times when he was a kid and his mom's lover would always come to the house once a week to "clean the pool" when his parents were in town. both his parents knew about the other's affairs in some way or another and were only happy that it meant more time for their own engagements and the fact that they didn't have to go through as something as ugly and messy as divorce.

so tim knows how wealthier couples operate and working for WE and being a wayne makes it so tim is much closer to brushing elbows with those kinds of people than any other. sure maybe in the eyes of the general public it was shameful to be the affair partner, the other woman, the slut that's getting banged on the side. affairs are often horrible betrayals of trust and relationships that could leave people mentally and emotionally damaged for years. but for certain levels in society that's not the case.

tim knows that very well.

for the woman, the affair partner was a point of pride just like their shoe collection or the car that they drove. if their husband is having an affair with some 19-year-old college student and paying their rent- now THAT is shameful, that is what gets other ladies whispering about you at galas and charity events. but a wayne? the co-CEO of one of the largest and wealthiest enterprises on the east coast? even if tim hadn't finished highschool or gone to college his numerous projects for gotham have earned him a kind of good grace to most of the media and the upper circles. tim being their husband's affair partner would make women hold their head up high because they were still the wife and someone as respectable as tim was "just" the other woman.

so tim knows exactly the sort of couples he can go after. and it eases many of the issues and concerns he'd had with relationships. tim isn't constantly on call for someone who needs his attention or assurance. there's no hard feelings if he needs to cancel suddenly because tim gets canceled on just as often because he needs to be kept on the down low. the media doesn't publish speculative pieces about one person he went on one date with. bruce isn't calling or updating or demanding tim's presence just as tim starts getting more serious with someone, forcing him to break it off or risk getting dumped.

it's easy. it's fun. tim gets to have sex and get fucked by men nearly twice his age all with the support of their wives and tim commits to nothing. neither do they. they don't have to buy tim fancy clothes or jewels or apartments because they know tim has his own money and the only thing tim wants from them is their cock. sure tim could've just hired escorts but they were just as liable to run to the media with their stories. with married men, they have a vested interest in making sure no one finds out about their entanglements. which is just how tim likes it. he's gotten tired of all the emotional labor expected of him in a relationship, his life was hard enough as it was. he just wanted to be able to get dinner with someone attractive and then be taken somewhere and wonderfully fucked until he forgot the mess of problems that was his life.

tim liked his new arrangement- he loved it even! tim has more time than he did before. and with the nice orgasms he's getting on the side he can focus better on work and actually do a good job without having to worry about whether he misses an anniversary or a date! the circle of people that know he's fucking a married men is very small. the amount of people who know he's fucking multiple married men is even smaller.

none of those groups included members of his family or his friends.

tim's in no mood to listen to their moral crusades or lectures no matter how hypocritical he could point them out to be (as if bruce or dick had never seen multiple people at the same time or even cheated on their current partner with an on-again off-again flame). so when tim attends the weekly dinners with the rest of the family, he doesn't mention it. not only because it's not polite dinner conversation, but it's also no one's business what tim does in his spare time.

tim is listening to one of bruce's office stories as is the rest of the family when the doorbell rings. jason looks up and the rest of the family pauses as they watch alfred slowly start towards the door. tim can think about a dozen people who would show up during their dinner time, most of them are capes looking to bum off a meal and knowing that bruce will be shamed into letting them stay by the rest of his children if he says no. tim can already see jason beginning to hastily spoon more mashes potatoes onto his plate because speedsters usually always went for the carbohydrates first.

tim is picking at some crispy honeyed ham when there's suddenly commotion from the front door. suddenly tim is much more alert along with the rest of the table that's fallen silent. the sound of more than one pair of expensive loafers speed walking on the hardwood greets tim's ears.

alfred looks a bit flustered as he turns the corner. he barely manages to get out "master tim, there's some gentlemen at the door for you-"

before a handful of very familiar faces brush past alfred. some are in varying stages of distress. one of them has a bruise on the side o their face in the shape of a hand reddening. one has roses missing petals with ribbons printed with the logo of a very expensive flower shop. tim spies various giftbags intemingled between about four of tim's affair partners who are shoving at each other to get through. tim is utterly lost.

apparently so is bruce. considering that he's worked with or shaken hands with many of them at events.

"mikey?" he asks in that default brucie 'i'm innocently confused' voice, "matty? nolan? benny? what are you all doing here? you know i'd never say 'no' to a guy's night but it's dinner time-"

"tim, i've left my wife for you!"

tim's not sure who yells it too busy grimacing with dick at bruce's sudden tone shift. but the words have him freezing in place along with the rest of the table.

bruce's expression flashes in pure confusion but tim can see the slight furrow in his brow that indicates genuine bafflement before transforming into deep offense.

tim finally allows his head to turn and locks eyes with benicio alamar, the shipping mogul of gotham port that is responsible for the import of more than 22% of gotham's canned and packaged foods and 43% of the furniture and tile. tim has been fucking him for months. and now he's in the home tim shares with his family and saying something about how he's divorced his wife for tim-

him and three others are trying to speak over each other while tim sits frozen and thinks 'what the fuck' and how this wasn't how it was supposed to go. it's not as though they all had some deep emotional connection to each other- in fact many of them had been chosen because of their iron-clad prenups with infidelity clauses that would ensure they'd lose more than half their assets if they initiated a divorce for someone else- no way would any of them do something that fucking stupid to squander their very lavish lives without actually getting confirmation from tim that they'd be together.

which they wouldn't be getting.

tim would sooner drop an axe on his his foot before he went back to committed relationships. what he had going on worked.

only it seemed like they hadn't gotten the message.

tim didn't say anything as all four of the men were pushed out of the dining room, shooed away by both alfred and a suddenly furious bruce who was demanding that they leave.

tim could feel the eyes on him when alfred and bruce returned, bruce with his arms crossed and boring a stare into tim who had no idea what to say.

fuck. why couldn't anything in his life ever be easy?

#anonymous #asks #answered asks

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slinket · 7 months ago

Text

The Aftermath

Chapter 4

Woo, I did it, finally.

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

Warnings: NSFW, public sex, sort of, probably more fluff than anything else.

Threnody -

They made their way back towards the school, speaking quietly to each other. Their hands would brush against each other, but they never grasped on, too many people around in the courtyard.

Threnody paused, causing Ominis to stumble.

“What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing, sorry. Garreth is just jogging towards us. I forgot we were going to meet today to work on a project.”

Garreth nearly crashed into Threnody as he stopped, his breathing a bit haggard from sprinting over to her.

“Ren, babe, we still on for tonight? You disappeared after lunch…” His eyes narrowed a bit, looking over at Ominis, “Ominis, you feeling better mate?” Garreth moved between them, hooking an arm over each shoulder as he corralled them forward.

“Yes Garreth, I was just heading back in to meet you. I just need to stop by my room and grab a couple books, then I can meet you there?”

“Perfect. Looking forward to it - just you and me, minds melding in a quiet room.” Garreth gave her a squeeze before running off.

Ominis reached out and grabbed Threnody’s hand, pulling her closer. “Hook your arm with mine, guide me back to the dorm?”

“Of course”

They walked together, using Ominis’ disability to allow them to keep touching. They headed back inside, Threnody bringing them down into the chill of the dungeons.

“Would it be okay if I joined you tonight? I want to avoid Sebastian, and Garreth seems a little too happy about you two being alone.” Threnody could hear a twinge of jealousy in his voice.

“I’d like that. Bit of a buffer between Garreth and his constant flirting. We may actually get some work done.” She pulled herself closer to him. “He’s likely going to ask about Anne. Not that you have to tell him anything - you know what he’s like.”

Ominis groaned, stopped walking and put a finger to Threnody’s lips. She watched him as he listened to the sounds around them - she heard nothing, and he must have agreed.. Ominis looked back at her and pushed her against the wall, his arms trapping her. She smiled at him, running her hands over his upper chest and over his shoulders. He leaned forward, nuzzling his nose beneath her ear. His lips pressed against her, whispering, “I could tell him about her, or I could give him details of the dreams I have most nights.” Ominis flicked his tongue out, letting it slowly run against her neck. “Generally speaking, they involve you, naked and writhing under me.”

He could feel her pulse under his lips, fluttering. Her fingers slid from his neck and into his hair, tugging his head back slightly.

“I’d rather you not tell Garreth how you dream of me. He might get some ideas, and you know how he is with ideas.”

“Maybe we will like one of his ideas.”

“Ominis,” Threnody scolded, and then her voice squeaked as Ominis pressed his hips up against hers. “Ominis, we have to get going, Garreth is expecting me.”

He groaned as he dropped his hips. “What can I do for us to have some touching time? Naked touching time, preferably.”

“Naked touching time? Ominis, we haven’t gone out on a date yet, and you think I’ll strip my clothes off for you?” She pulled at his collar as she teased him.

“I was hoping you would allow me to strip your clothing off. Also, how am I supposed to take you out on a date when we can’t let anyone know?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Now come on.” She pushed him back lightly, grabbing his hand to pull him along with her. They moved through the castle silently, both lost in thought. Threnody had been thinking more and more about being alone and intimate with Ominis. Everytime he would casually touch her, her skin prickled in excitement. Still being a virgin made her nervous about sex. Knowing that Ominis had a poor experience with Anne actually made her feel better about sleeping with him - she figured it would be better for him simply because he wanted her. Threnody knew she would give herself to him, it was just a matter of time. However, she also knew that Ominis may be talking a big game, but that he would be nervous when push came to shove. He was nearly trembling with nerves during the summer, so she can’t imagine he is suddenly ready to jump right into it.

They moved together, reaching the library and finding Garreth sitting alone in the back stacks.

“Oy, Ren, there you are - and also Ominis is here…” Garreth lifted an eyebrow in question to Ominis’ presence.

“I hope you don’t mind Garreth, I don’t much feel like being stuck in the dorms with Sebastian.”

“Oh no, no problem,” Threnody thought she saw a twinge of disappointment on Garreth’s face, but it quickly vanished and was replaced with mischief.

They worked in silence for a while, Garreth and Threnody speaking only when sharing their information. Ominis sat close next to Threnody, closing his eyes and keeping his hands on his lap. At least it started as such, but soon his hand was on Threnody, slowly running over her, finding her bare thigh to caress. Taking a break from her studies, Threnody sat back in her chair, sighing lightly. Garreth decided to do the same, stretching his arms out and hanging one over Threnody’s chair. Threnody, not happy with Garreth moving closer, tried to subtly scoot closer to Ominis. Feeling her moving closer, Ominis removed his arm from her leg and brought it up to lay over her shoulders, gently pushing Garreth’s arm away.

“Uh, oh, so Ominis, you didn’t think you’d get away with not giving us any details about your night with Anne, did you? Or was it multiple nights?”

Grumbling to himself, Ominis pinched his lips together before answering. “I was only once, Garreth.”

“Once? Sebastian said you were dating her, and you only slept with her once? How boring.”

“Garreth, honestly it was just a one time thing. Anne was feeling very depressed and while trying to comfort her, she kept pushing forward. I didn’t have it in me to say no. I am not dating her, and I made that very clear, so I don’t know why Sebastian said that we were together. Sorry it wasn’t very interesting for you Garreth, but I didn’t know it was going to happen, and since I had never thought about Anne sexually, it was weird, and I was fairly clueless as to what I was doing.”

“Bah, it’s fine mate, I’ll let it go for now. I’ve got some questions for our lady friend here anyways.”

Threnody, who had closed her eyes while laying against Omini’s arm, opened them back up to give a questioning look to Garreth. “About the project?”

“Hell no! I need to know what you meant when you said I wasn’t your first kiss. You told me that day that it was going to be the first time.”

Rolling her eyes “Why does it matter? It was like half a year ago.”

“My pride matters!”

“Ugh, fine.” Threnody looks over to Ominis, “Okay Ominis?” Ominis lays his head in his hand, arm resting against the table, shrugging. His other hand fell off the back of her seat, casually grabbing onto Threnody’s knee.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several months earlier

The large group of friends were sitting in the Gryffendor common room, enjoying their time together. One of them had suggested playing spin the bottle, and most everyone agreed it was a great idea. They had not been playing very long when Ominis was already getting frustrated. He didn’t want to play, and he didn’t want Threnody to play, because the chances of her only having to kiss him were fairly low.

He made his objection known, but agreed to stay for the time being. Ominis was nearly overcome with anticipation when it was Threnody’s turn. His leg tapping, nervous. He was hoping it would land on him, praying that whichever god may or may not be in the sky would finally see it fit to bless him rather than abandon him once again. This would be perfect, he wouldn’t have to expose his feelings, he wouldn’t have to come up with a reason to kiss her, he would just have to do it.

“Well, whoever this lands on, you’ll get to be my first kiss.” Threnody wasn’t shy about sharing that to the group. Most of them already knew.

“First kiss? It’s got to be more than a peck, gentlemen, make sure you’re ready.” Imelda was laughing.

Threnody spun the bottle, and it landed facing Garreth. She looked up at him, to see a huge smile on his face.

“It’s me, okay, I uh, I need a moment. I’ll be right back.” Garreth stood and rushed out of the room, up to his dorm.

Hearing Garreth’s announcement, Ominis felt totally deflated. Pissed.

“Enough of this, I’m leaving.” Ominis was angry. He should have hit the bottle with a charm to make it move more, not that he could tell when it would have been facing him.

Imelda, sitting with the group, knocked her elbow into Amit’s side, “Uh on, looks like Ominis is pissed he doesn’t get to kiss Threnody. Maybe when it’s your turn Ominis, the bottle will land on her.”

‘With my luck it will land between two people and you guys will make me kiss a couch.’

Ominis’ face turned red with anger or embarrassment, Threnody wasn’t sure which. “My leaving has nothing to do with who Threnody is kissing. I just think it is a private thing that shouldn’t be used for entertainment. However, Threnody, as I am not familiar with this room, would you mind guiding me back to the portrait? Seeing as Garreth ran off” He held his hand out to her, expecting her to say yes.

Threnody took his hand, standing up to grasp onto his arm. “I can spare a moment.”

She led Ominis out of the room and towards the corridor to leave. “Are you alright Ominis? You did seem a bit upset.”

Ominis stopped walking, and turned to look at her. “I…well I just, you know your first kiss shouldn’t be wasted on Garreth! He just doesn’t deserve to be your first.” Threnody smiled slightly while listening to Ominis rant. “It should..” he was stumbling over his words, “be with someone you have more of a relationship with, I mean, I know you and Garreth are friends, but not very close friends, I think, you know, I just don’t want you to regret it later. It should be special.”

He was looking at her with determination, nerves flickering across his face. “Ominis, I appreciate your opinion, but I am playing the game, and I’m a bit out of time to find someone else. Especially someone who would want to kiss me.” Threnody was still holding onto his arm, he felt her gently squeeze it. Ominis was used to never being the top of people’s choices. Not the favorite son. A best friend to Sebastian, but not above his twin. He was so sure that Threnody had wanted Sebastian to be her beau when they had first met, but nothing had ever come of that, so he allowed himself to think that maybe he could be the one she wanted. He often berated himself for never telling her how he felt. Just waiting for the universe to jump in and win the girl for him.

“Right, well, I just wanted you to know that.” Ominis dropped his head slightly.

“Thank you, I appreciate your thoughts, we are at the door, if you still want to leave.”

“Yes. Ok.” He nodded his head once, turning away from her. His arm slowly slid out from hers. Ominis didn’t move when he had turned from her, and he could hear that Threnody had not moved either. He sighed, turning back towards her. “Threnody?” He listened to her hum in response.

Ominis threw his hands out in front of him, grabbing onto her. He was a bit jumbled so one hand landed on her shoulder, the other half way down her arm. It didn’t matter. He moved his head forward, a little too fast, his nose bumping against her forehead and his lips against her eye. He mumbled a sorry as he kept his lips against her, using them to find hers. When he did, Ominis ran his hands up to her face, cupping it lightly while he finally pressed his lips against hers. He was tentative at first, but feeling Threnody press back against him, he opened his lips, letting them move with hers. He didn’t pull away until he heard someone calling for her from the other room. Ominis snapped his head back quickly at the sound, his face flushed and his heart beating so hard he was sure she would be able to hear it. He hadn’t let go of her face, not quite ready to fully pull away.

“There. Now…now it’s ok if you kiss him, I guess. He’s not the first.”

Threnody only whispered back an ‘ok,’ her face still being held by Ominis. He cleared his throat, dropping his hands, and stumbling back a bit into the doorway. “I will um, I’m going to go now. See you later?”

Nodding first, before finally finding her words to say yes, Ominis awkwardly turned and walked away.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the hell Ominis? You stole her first kiss because you didn’t think I was special enough?”

Ominis glowered at Garreth. “I didn’t steal it. It was never yours to have.”

“The game said I won it!” Garreth grumbled and plopped back down in his seat. “You know what? It’s fine, She’ll get her first good kiss from me.” Garreth pushed out of his seat again, and swiftly pressed his lips against Threnody. Ominis’ face dropped as he heard her muffled cry of shock. He stood, reaching out to find Garreth’s shoulders and pushed hard.

“Oye, don’t be mad Ominis, now she knows what a real kiss is like. Threnody, I’ll be the first one that beds you too. Ominis still would have no idea what he is doing. Ha.”

Ominis literally growled, standing and pulling Threnody up with him. He turned her to face him and he slammed his lips against hers, forcing his tongue between her lips. Threnody was still in shock for a second before sinking back against him, opening her mouth to allow him to explore.

He heard Garreth in the back, “Ahh, trying to make it a better kiss? I don’t mind you practicing mate, I promise I’ll still be the one to bed her.”

Holding onto her shoulders, Ominis pushed Threnody back from him, and turned her around. She yelped as he pushed her against the table forcing her head down. “Ominis?” Threnody called to him with worry.

“He has to know Renny. I have to show him.” He listened to her let out a sound of concern, but when he pushed her head back on the table, she didn’t fight. Ominis lifted her skirt up over her behind, exposing her panties to him, and Garreth.

Garreth, sounding now a million miles away, “Ominis, what the hell are you doing? You can’t do that here.”

“I can do it anywhere I like, Garreth.” Ominis undoing his belt as he pressed against Threnody’s rear. He reached into his pants and pulled out his cock, stroking it a few times as he slid the gusset of her panties to the side. As Ominis pressed the tip of his cock against Threnody core, she whimpered. “You’re so wet for me love, so ready. You need to hold onto the table, this is going to be fast.” He listened for her hands to move out, grabbing onto the end of the table in front of her.

With one push, Ominis was fully inside of her. Threnody let out a howl, a mix of pleasure and pain. “You’ll never be her first for anything Garreth,” he moved, taking her hard, pulling back and slamming into her, the table moving forward slightly with each thrust. “This is the first time she’s ever had a cock inside of her. Fuck, does her cunt feel good. Unbelievable how tight she is.”

He listened to Threnody’s cries echo throughout the library. As Garreth began to talk, Ominis growled again and spoke over him. “I will fuck her mouth and her ass too Garreth. You’ll never get to be her first for anything.”

“Ominis, you need to stop.” Garreth stated, the nerve clear in his voice. Ominis heard a chorus of agreement, letting him know there were now several students watching.

“Mr Gaunt! Stop that this instant!” Scribner’s voice screeched in his ear. “This is incredibly improper!”

Ominis moves one of his hands under Threnody, moving a finger to slip into her slick folds, rubbing his finger back and forth over her clit. “Look at all these people Ren. All here to see your pretty little pussy. Watch it get fucked by my cock. Tell them who this pussy belongs to, Threnody, tell them.”

“Ominis, it’s yours. Please Ominis. Ominis, Ominis? Om?”

He felt the hands on his shoulders, shaking him. “Did you fall asleep Ominis? I thought the story of my first kiss would have interested you more, considering it was with you!”

Ominis lifted his head and blinked his eyes. Threnody covered the hand that he had on her knee, running her thumb across the side.

“I can’t believe I lost out on her first kiss because I went to brush my teeth. You are one sly snake, Ominis.”

“I um, uh, sorry Threnody, I must be more tired from today than I thought.”

Garreth grabbed his books, “Alright well, I’m headed out. I think we should be able to finish this next time Ren.”

“Sounds good Garreth, we will make plans soon.”

Threnody and Ominis now found themselves alone at the table. “Are you alright Ominis? You’re a bit red.”

“Uh, I guess I was just daydreaming, don’t remember much though.” ‘Please don’t ask me about it.’

Threnody lifted his hand up off her knee and brought it to her lips, lightly kissing his knuckles.

“Ren?” Ominis lowered his voice, forcing Threnody to move her face closer to him. “Stay with me tonight? I was so worried today that you were going to hate me because of everything with Anne. I don’t want to be away from you right now.”

“I don’t know Ominis, how would we do that?”

“Just stay in the room with me. You know Seb and I have it to ourselves. We used to have sleepovers all the time in the undercroft during 5th year.”

“Sebastian will be with us right? We will be doing nothing but sleeping - I just want to be clear.”

“Yes. I…need you to be there. Sort of like a buffer between him and I? Please?”

Threnody sighed and stood up, pulling Ominis alone with her. “Lets head back, I’ve got a few things to do before I can join you in your room.” She felt a light kiss against her cheek, making her smile as they left the library.

They returned to the Slythern common room, moving through it and headed up to Ominis’ dorm. Ominis didn’t worry himself about breaking the rules, while he wasn’t proud of being a Gaunt, he would use the name to his advantage when needed. Not having to abide by all of the Hogwarts rules being one of them. They found Sebastian sitting on his bed, already wearing his pajamas.

Ominis heard Sebastian throw his blankets around, followed by “Ominis, you can’t just barge in here, I’m naked!”

“Oh gods,” Ominis shouted, while he pushed Threnody back behind him, trying to block her view. “Sebastian, how many times have I told you, just because I am blind doesn’t mean you can parade around here in the nude!” Threnody was pushing back against Ominis, moving forward, both she and Sebastian laughing.

“Ominis, you should have seen your face! You went from absolutely horrified to furious in seconds.” Sebastian was rolling in his laughter. Threnody sat down on his bed, patting his shoulder for a prank well done.

Still giggling, “I’m sorry Ominis, it was funny though!” Threnody looked around the room as Ominis grumbled and moved towards his desk. She pulled her wand out and cast engorgio on the other bed, expanding it enough to fit three people.

“Staying?” Sebastian asked.

“Mmm, planning to, if that is alright with you?”

“I won’t say no to sleeping with a pretty lady.”

Threnody rolled her eyes. “I’m going to get ready for the night and grab some of my things. I’ll be back soon.”

She left the room, leaving Ominis and Sebastian on their own. The room felt uncomfortable to Ominis, like the pressure from the water above the dorms was pushing in, bearing down on him.

Sebastian cleared his throat before speaking, “Listen, I didn’t think you would get so upset about having slept with Anne. Honestly, I’m a little offended, you could have at least pretended to have enjoyed it, for her sake.”

“For her sake? She’s not here Sebastian, you know that better than anyone. I didn’t have to pretend to like anything. You knew, and I assumed she did as well that it felt more like an obligation to me than anything else.” Ominis snapped back, trying to keep himself under control, but he was just so angry. ‘He could have ruined everything!’ Ominis was beyond grateful that Threnody was the type of person who would come to her own conclusions, rather than just always take someone's word as fact. He would have told her all the details eventually, if she hadn’t sought him out, but her coming to him at least made him feel like there was a chance she wasn’t ready to walk away.

“Obligated? Why? Because she is sick?”

“No, because…. because you both were, are my friends. She, along with you, were very kind to me through some very difficult times. Sleeping with her, well, it wasn’t the least I could do, but it was a way to give back to her.”

Both boys had begun to get themselves ready for bed during the conversation, Sebastian ending it with a grunt. Sebastian was well aware that Ominis had only slept with Anne to be nice, but was hoping to make him feel guilty. Maybe guilty enough to question his worth. That would undoubtedly cause Ominis to question his relationship with Threnody.

While buttoning up his shirt, Ominis turned towards Sebastian. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, not knowing if what he was about to say was a good idea, but deciding to say it all the same. While Threnody had asked him not to share their relationship with Sebastian yet, technically he was only gathering information, not sharing. He needed to know, because he didn’t want to keep having to hide with her.

“Sebastian, all that aside, I do wish to ask your thoughts on something important. How would you feel if I wanted to start courting Threnody?” Ominis dropped his hands from his chest, feeling out for the bed, needing something to hold onto to keep him from wringing his hands.

Hearing Sebsatian respond with a laugh was not what Ominis expected. “I’m not joking, Sebastian, I really enjoy her company, and would like to see if she and I could be more than friends.”

“She is the only girl that regularly interacts with you, of course you think you have feelings for her. Even if your feelings were real, it’s not like it could go anywhere, you’d just be wasting time.”

“Why do you think that?”

“It always comes down to your family, Ominis.”

“Threnody is as pureblooded as I am, my parents would not object to her!”

“Right, your parents won’t object, but her parents will. Bringing that blood into their family? No way. It would be over before it even started.”

Ominis swallowed hard as he thought about what Sebsatian said. He was always so concerned about his own parents, it didn’t occur to him that her parents may be the one to squash their relations. Yes, they were great about having him, and his family at the summer wedding, but that would have partially been because of pureblood obligation and expectation. Her parents obviously were fine with a friendship between them, but Sebastian had a point, Thernody’s family was not like his, and uniting the two may not be something of which they would approve.

Sebastian had succeeded in planting a seed of doubt in Ominis. Which, unbeknownst to Ominis, was the goal. Ominis swallowed hard, his face clearly showing him deep in thought. “Sebastian, I just meant to find out how you would feel about it, if her and I being together would make you uncomfortable…. I can worry about our families another time.”

“I think it would impact our friendship, how could it not? I wouldn’t be able to still be cuddly with her, or the three of us together would always make me feel like I’m the odd man out, especially if you started snogging with her when I’m around.”

“It wouldn’t be like that, you know we would never want you to feel left out. Yes, she and I would probably spend some more time alone, but that doesn’t mean our friendship with you has to suffer.”

“It just wouldn’t be fair Ominis, that you would get to have her, and I wouldn’t. She means the same to both of us.”

While Ominis did not agree with that thought, he didn’t really know how to respond. So he decided to just make his feelings clear. “Sebastian, I want to be with her, so I am going to move forward with this. I hope you’ll respect that.”

Sebastian didn’t have a chance to answer, as Threnody returned knocking at their door. Invited in, she walked over to the bed, jumping into it. She pulled out her wand, pointing to the ceiling and casting a spell similar to what was in the Great Hall. The ceiling suddenly became the night sky, several constellations shining above them.

“I passed astronomy already, Ren, don’t really need to see the night sky anymore.”

“Shut up Sebastian, it's just for my enjoyment.”

“If you wanted to see stars, all you had to do was ask, love.” Sebastian wiggled his eyebrows and reached to grab Threnody’s hand.”

She scoffed and quickly crawled over Ominis, forcing him into the middle of the bed. “I also wanted to show Ominis the night sky.”

“While I appreciate the sentiment, even you don’t have the magical power to help me see.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that I am going to use muggle magic.”

“Muggle magic? What the hell is that?” Sebastian watched as Threnody and Ominis shared, what he could only describe as ‘a look.’ It seemed like they had caught each others eyes and were staring as a slow smile grew on Threnody’s face. “Hey,” Sebastian called, noticing Ominis’ hand barely moving forward until he reached hers, their fingers lightly tangling together. “HEY,” yelling this time, causing the distracted couple to snap their heads towards Sebastian, and pulling their hands apart.

Threnody recovered quickly, “Sorry Sebastian, what did you say?”

“Nevermind, just get on with whatever the hell you were going to show Ominis.” Did they really think that their burgeoning relationship wasn’t obvious to him, especially with the doe eyes they keep flashing each other? Idiots. He needed to squash this, quickly.

The smile returned to Threnody’s face as she focused back on her plan. “Ok Ominis, front or back?”

“Um, front? I guess?”

“Ok! Lay down on your back.”

Once Ominis is comfortably down, Threnody tells him that she will be touching him in a moment, not wanting to surprise him with her sudden touch. He felt her fingers gently touch his top, her fingers grasping on to the button in the middle of his shirt. He made an involuntary noise as she popped open the button. “I’ll only do the bottom half, you don’t need to be fully exposed.” Her voice sounded like a sweet whisper to his ears, and he could almost forget that Sebastian was in the room when he focused on her touch.

She opened up the bottom half of his top, his skin reacting to the cool night air, the downy blond hair on his stomach prickling. He nearly stuttered, “Wh..what are you going to do?”

“I told you, I’m going to show you the stars.”

Threnody pointed upwards, flicking her fingers and paging through the night sky until the first constellation she wanted to show Ominis appeared. “See this one Sebastian? It’s two constellations in one. Ophiuchus,” her finger touched down onto Ominis, conjuring the tiniest ball of light where their skin met. She copied the pattern from the sky, leaving a trail across Ominis’ belly.

With bated breath, Ominis whispered “The Serpent Bearer.”

“That’s right. One man holding a snake. According to the Ancient Greeks, this is a representation of Asclepius, one of Apollo’s sons. He was a healer, who had once killed a snake. Luckily for the snake, a second snake placed some sort of revival herb on the first, allowing it to be resurrected.”

Once she had touched Ominis enough to have placed the main stars, she began tracing a line, connecting them. Her finger moved slowly, wanting to make sure that Ominis was able to follow the pattern. Ominis was trying to pay attention, but every time Threnody’s finger would trace closer to his waistband, his mind would wander, hoping she would continue the path downward.

“Since snakes shed their skin each year, they were considered symbols of rebirth. Which, I can understand. I can easily see how the three of us have all gone through some sort of rebirth during the past few years.”

The three of them sat in silence, each privately pondering the rebirths of which Threnody was speaking. Threnody then leaned over, her mouth at level with Ominis’ belly. She lightly blew across him, the tiny orbs lifting from his skin and dancing out into the air.

Ominis was biting down hard on his lip, his hands clenching the sheets below him as he tried his best to stop his body from responding to her touch. Knowing her lips were so close to his waist proved to be nearly too much for him, and he could feel his blood rushing below.

“Well, did you see the pattern Ominis?” Sebastian's voice pulled Ominis out of his struggle.

“Ye…Yes, I did.”

Threnody smiled brightly. “See Sebastian? Muggle magic! May I do another one?”

“You may, but let me turn over onto my stomach, it seems I may be a bit ticklish.” Ominis lied, he needed to turn against the bed so his erection would not be so obvious to Threnody or Sebastian. He knew it wasn’t going to go away if she continued to touch him.

Threnody scrolled through the sky again, stopping when she found the cluster of several constellations.

“Cassiopeia, the mythical queen, and in the sky, represented by a W shape.” She tapped the stars onto Ominis’ back, his pale skin glowing under the light. Sebastian watched with jealousy as she touched Ominis. However, she kept eye contact with Sebastian for most of the story, smiling at him and making him feel included.

“Cassiopeia was married to Cepheus, and they had a daughter, Andromeda.” She delicately drew the Andromeda Constellation onto Ominis. “Cassiopeia was incredibly vain though, and she talked about how she was more beautiful than the sea nymphs, which angered Poseidon. Poseidon sent Cetus, a monster, to destroy the coast where Cassiopeia lived. Cepheus planned to sacrifice Andromeda to the monster, hoping to placate Poseidon.”

She spoke in low tones, bringing a calm to the room, as though she was lulling them all to sleep. “When Andromeda was chained to the rocks near the sea, Perseus appeared on Pegasus.” She added the two new constellations to his back. “They rescued Andromeda, falling in love and eventually marrying.”

“That's quite the story for what looks like simple stars.” Sebastian commented as Threnody wiped the lights off of Ominis’ back, pulling his shirt back down.

“Well my dear boys, I think it is time for me to sleep.” She reached into the air, yawning. The top of her pajamas rose slightly.

Sebastian started pushing Ominis over. “Threnody in the middle please, I don’t want to wake up wrapped around Ominis.”

They all grumbled moving around, settling. Threnody turned away from Sebastian, facing Ominis. Sebastian was not going to let the two of them cuddle off into their own little world, so he moved behind Threnody, spooning her body. He knew she couldn’t say anything, if she asked him not to hold her, he would ask why, what had changed, as they have fallen asleep like this before.

Seb wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against him. When they wished each other a goodnight, he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, making sure to kiss her loud enough for Ominis to hear. He snuggled into her tightly, finding himself falling asleep quickly.

Threnody did not fall asleep. Once she heard Sebastian’s breathing even out, she moved a hand forward to grab onto Ominis.

“I’m still awake too, Ren.” His eyes were closed, but Ominis smiled at her.

Whispering, “Sorry he got to me first. It didn’t feel right to pull away.”

Ominis brought her hand to his lips, kissing her palm softly. “I understand.” He shifted himself closer to her. “I do need your help with something though.” He brought her hand down below his waist, helping her to grasp onto his still erect cock.

“Ominis…” she whispered, but she didn’t pull away.

“You don’t have to do anything, I just want you to feel how good you make me feel.” He slowly moved her hand up and down his length, “Feels so good Renny.”

She watched as a spot on his pants began to wetten, and she licked her lips. With Ominis close to her now, she was able to lean forward and press her lips to his. He moaned quietly into her mouth, gently lifting his hips to meet her strokes. Threnody pressed harder, enjoying how his cock felt against her hand. They continued like this for only moments, when Ominis placed his hand back over hers, stopping her from rubbing him.

“As much as I love this, I don’t want to cum with Sebastian here, holding onto you, awake or not.” She squeezed him one last time, then pulled her hand away. Ominis lay on his back, interlacing his fingers with hers and placing her hand over his heart. Soon, all three of them were caught in slumbers embrace, content to all be connected, having always found peace when they all three were together.

______________________________________________________________

I didn't do a final edit of this because I just wanted to finally get it posted. In the scene where Ominis and Threnody were staring at each other, I was picturing in my head this one scene from The Secret Garden movie: https://youtu.be/1U35863ykd8?si=tYJb2dsA5r_2NkNY Man I loved that movie.

KThxbai

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy smut #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt smut #sebastian sallow #garreth weasley

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kiraavi · 1 year ago

Text

Dies Irae - Chapter II

Summary : Your brother has been dead for a year now, victim of this cruel and exploitative world; silenced by those of a much greater standing than him, and you've known no greater agony than the bloodlust and thirst for revenge that has since consumed you.

You've got nothing to your name, only the clothes on your back and a valuable family heirloom. When you hear whispers of the Sanguine Blade, a infamous mercenary, frequenting a tavern in the capital, you decide to offer up all you have left for a stab at vengeance. You only have one condition, you join him on the job.

Word Count : 2492

Ao3 link :

"Sapir..." you whispered into the silent night. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He returned late again. "You can't keep doing this." You turn on your side, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. His silhouette shuffled slightly, looming over you.

"It's making us coin isn't it?"

"Éndon is no place for you," you said as you sat up. Sapir had been working as an opium runner for an organization working out of Éndon Polis; the veiled underbelly of the capital.

"Working bottomside is just a means to an end, temporary. As soon as I've saved enough we can-"

"You're going to end up hurt," your raised voice caused him to shift away. Good, you thought. He wouldn't listen to reason but maybe he would listen to the threat of consequence.

"I'm not alone down there, I have a friend, an observer of sorts. He deals in information," he muttered, inching closer to you again. He took your hand and looked into your eyes. "He looks out for me, keeps me informed. You don't need to worry."

You exhaled sharply, your nostrils flaring, but you gave in with a small nod.

"C'mon... get some rest." You laid back down, patting the spot beside you. You heard him rustle around before settling next to you, his arm brushing against yours. You closed your eyes.

You should've worried more. Shouldn't have let him off the hook so easily. Now, you'll never be able to forget the sound of the rotting wooden gallows creaking beneath his footsteps.

---

Éndon Polis can swallow you whole if you let it. If you allow its talons to embed themselves deep enough in your flesh, it will tug and tug, pulling you into its blackened depths. Malanthia’s underbelly has ravaged twice as many lives as it has helped. You had known better than to get entangled in its convoluted web of criminal organizations and clandestine services. Your brother was stubborn though. Never really liked to listen to reason and never did in the end.

The winding, narrow paths of Éndon create a labyrinth of dank alleys and hidden passageways between buildings that tower to the roof of the cave system the city is located in. The tenebrous city teeming with life unlike the kind you find topside. Up ahead the auction house stands tall, welcoming patrons in from the streets. A shiver crawls down your spine, and you abruptly turn away from it. Your shoulders brush against others as you steer through the crowd. Behind you, Sanguine's hulking figure is like a beacon, drawing the attention of many passersby as he trails behind you.

"You're certain you know where you're going?" He inquires, a disbelieving look in his eyes. You scoff and continue walking. You almost don’t bother responding.

"Think you can navigate bottomside better than me?" You were surprised when he told you he had never ventured down here before, given the nature of his services, you figured many of his clients might have come from bottomside. Many mercenaries work out of the shadows Éndon provides. It's convenient, easy, and out of the authorities' line of sight. Then again, most mercenaries aren't considered public figures, though you get the feeling that Sanguine doesn't care much for his reputation.

You have heard many stories about him and his endeavours. A beast . Ruthless. Strong enough to slaughter a whole battalion and stand unscathed, flicking blood from his blade. You aren’t sure how true the tales are, but he certainly seems capable enough. Tall, broad shoulders with muscles that ripple beneath his gear with every movement. His reputation, as controversial as it is, is the reason you sought him out in the first place. For most mercs, nobility is off the table. Too dicey and far too easy to get tangled in the burdensome politics of Malanthia. Sanguine isn’t like other mercs though. He’s Askaini. A victim of the many wars started so that Malanthia might lay claim to Askain’s resource-rich land. Maybe it’s wrong to take advantage of his resentment for Malanthia; maybe it’s wrong to use his anger to push your own agenda, but that’s the game of this world. Manipulation and exploitation. You and your brother were played, and you won’t let it happen again. It’s your turn to play this game.

He shrugs, looking entirely unconvinced, but doesn't question you any further. You huff and propel yourself deeper into the warren of cramped streets. Éndon is swarming with people. Each one with a different story and a different reason to be there. Whether it’s to hire a specific service, get their fix, or obtain other illicit items, it doesn't matter. A scantily clad woman stands outside of a brothel, calling out to people passing by. In a shrouded passageway, two strangers converse in hushed voices. A cloaked figure skitters away from a merchant’s stall with something glinting in their hand under the faint torchlight.

You make a sharp turn into an alley, breaking away from the congested main streets. Your steps slow, and you glance back to see if Sanguine kept up. There’s a grimace on his face as he takes in the surroundings. Two stone brick walls encase you, blocking out most of the already scant light. Something is dripping, sliding between the crevices of the bricks. The air is somehow stale and stagnant but moist and muggy at the same time. The chill of the caved city bites through your cloak.

“It reeks…” he says, following behind as you tread further into the tapered passage.

“Like piss and rotting carcass?” You conclude, and he nods whilst fighting the look of revulsion threatening his rugged visage.

“...One way to put it,” he mutters, his jaw clenching as a shudder runs through his body. You shrug. The place always has a stench. Most of Éndon does. The backstreets were often worse. It’s a wonder why anyone takes permanent residence here. Mostly people with nowhere else to go; victims of the Adenfall Wars, Malanthian and Askaini alike.

You shuffle through a doorway, brushing aside the threadbare fabric that hangs over the door frame. The room is sparsely lit, with only a few candles amongst the crooked wooden shelves. Various trinkets, odds, and ends clutter the rickety shelving. The dismal shop is void of customers, and there’s not a single empty spot on the shelves. People don’t come to Ven for the junk on display but rather for something much more valuable. A spindly figure shoots up from behind the counter, adjusting their glasses and dusting themselves off. Ven is a gangly older Askaini man. Wisps of grey hair frame his angular face, and despite his wary disposition, he greets you with a gapped smile. A look of recognition flashes in his eyes, and the smile falters, flattening into a frown. He addresses you.

“I heard what happened to Sapir,” he says solemnly, his cadenced accent much thicker than Sanguine's, “thought you kicked the bucket too.”

You smile weakly and shake your head. “I should’ve come to see you sooner, Ven,” you admit, taking a few steps closer, “I just got caught up in- well, you know…” you wave your hands vaguely.

“Mm, I understand, I understand. What brings you to me now?” His fingers idly twitch, itching to move.

“I need info, and Sapir mentioned that you were an observer… that you dealt in that kind of business.” Sanguine shifts behind you, his bulky frame confined within the huddled shop. His patience seems to be wearing thin. His distaste for Éndon is writ large across his face.

“I see, what kind of intel do you seek, child?” He asks, his bespectacled gaze peering at you curiously.

“I need information on Sotiro Cordero. Security details, schedules, anything.”

Ven regards you with a skeptical look, reading into your words and expressions to find your intent. “You want to avenge Sapir?” He asks, hitting the mark with perfect precision. You grit your teeth but nod, crossing your arms over your chest. “Going after nobility? You play perilous games.” Ven’s eyes flit up to the merc that hovers behind you, near the doorway.

“¿Tienes la información o no?” Sanguine cuts to the chase, and you shoot him an icy look over your shoulder.

“Tendrás que pagar por ello,” Ven says, frowning at him. Sanguine reaches into his pocket as he approaches and places a small coin pouch on the counter. Ven smiles and snatches up the leather sack, tucking it away somewhere behind the counter. Your eyes dart between them, observing the interaction carefully.

“Sotiro travels with two guards, he hosts events and banquets at his manor often, and visits the House of Elysia once a week to see Zenia.” Ven lists various details.

“What about the Cordero manor? How guarded is it?” Sanguine speaks up.

“Heavily guarded. He has a small group of skilled fighters stationed there…”

---

“Elysia…” Sanguine mutters. The two of you are idling about, standing just off one of the main streets.

“It’s a brothel,” you say, recognizing the name. House of Elysia is a pleasure house in Éndon that’s very selective with its clientele, only offering services to the wealthy. You say as much and Sanguine visibly stiffens. You smirk up at him, mischief glinting in your eye. “You’ve never been to a pleasure house before, Sanguine?” you ask teasingly.

He scowls, averting his gaze. “I’ve had no need to.”

“Right, well, now you’ve got the need,” you move quickly along, stepping onto the streets once more. He follows after you.

“What?” He hisses, grabbing your wrist and tugging you closer. You’re at a standstill, mere inches away from him as the crowd continues to rush past you like a jagged rock splitting a river's roaring currents. His grip, which was at first bruising, quickly fades to something more gentle.

“They’re not going to let someone like me in,” you explain whilst gesturing to yourself, “You, on the other hand, your reputation precedes you.” If looks could kill, you would be a corpse on the ground by now.

“It’ll be much easier if we catch him at Elysia. Getting into his manor will be difficult, impossible even," you add.

"Don't be so sure, niña. I have connections."

"Regardless, killing a man in his own home is much less discreet," you reason, and in a way, you're undermining the authority you promised him. You agreed to do things his way, but you know he is a smart man. Smart enough to know what you're saying is true.

"Dios mío… lead the way," he relents, unfurling his gloved hand from around your wrist and gesturing toward the streets.

The area outside of the House of Elysia is emptier; fewer people wander by because fewer people are afforded the opportunity to hire their services. You loiter around the outskirts of the ivory pillared building, feeling out of place as you stand before its grandeur. You catch a couple of odd stares, and you imagine your dishevelled appearance is certainly a sight to behold in contrast to the establishment that rises behind you. You're not sure how long you stand there, waiting, but eventually, Sanguine is barreling from the building and toward you. You're unsure if the anger flickering across his face is just from his usual resting face or if something went awry inside the brothel.

"She's dead," he all but growls, glaring down at you.

"What?" Your eyes widen a fraction, and you find yourself unable to properly digest his words before the question leaves your mouth.

"Zenia, the worker he was seeing," he clarifies before adding, "It would seem that Sotiro is tying up any loose ends down here. She was attacked a couple of months ago and succumbed to the injuries. Your source's information is dated."

"Shit…" you murmur, nearly stumbling as you take a step back. There's a pause where neither of you speak. "Looks like we'll have to find a way into one of his events."

---

The inn room is silent as tension cascades down the walls. It's almost suffocating. You watch quietly as Sanguine rummages through his satchel across the room. The sound of your footsteps across the floorboards is all the more obvious. He glances up at you, the candlelight glittering in his crimson eyes. He takes one shuddering breath, clenching and unclenching his jaw so as to not speak through gritted teeth. You can tell just how much he's beginning to regret taking on this job. You can see it in the way his shoulders sag and his brows furrow every time he thinks you're not looking. You can tell by the way he gazes upon you with pity and quietly murmurs to himself in his mother tongue when he thinks you can't hear.

"Enough talk about the job tonight, por favor," he says, setting the satchel down, having seemingly given up on whatever he was searching for, "it can wait until morning."

A sigh escapes you as you turn and sit on the edge of the bed that he had already refused to take for the night, giving it up for you.

"How did you learn to wield a blade, Sanguine?" You ask in a half-assed attempt to make conversation.

"Miguel," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. You tilt your head, not quite catching his words. "My name is Miguel… you don't have to keep calling me Sanguine."

The smile that graces your lips is uncontrollable, even as he shoots a withering look your way.

"Okay, Miguel…" you drawl, putting purposeful emphasis on the syllables that make up his name, "You didn't answer my question, though."

"Ex-military," he says with a shrug, adding nothing more. You nod thoughtfully. You suspected as much, and your keen ear had heard those sorts of rumours during your search for him. Of course, hearing it from the mouths of others didn't mean it was true. It surprised you. So he really did fight for the Malanthian Military as they sought ownership over his home country? You don't dare to ask the question aloud, not that you'd expect him to answer if you did. His status as a former knight is something he seems to keep guarded… doesn't like flaunting it around. It is hard to keep people from talking, though, and those kinds of records don't just disappear.

As if sensing your quiet pondering, he quickly rouses you from your thoughts. "You should get some rest," he says, "we've got a long day ahead of us."

He moves toward the chair at the corner of the room, grunting as he takes a seat. Leaning back against the chair, he levels you with a stern look.

"Right… goodnight, Miguel," you say softly, crawling under the covers before leaning over the nightstand. You blow softly on the candle wick, sending the flame stuttering out into a wisp of smoke. The last thing you hear is him whispering goodnight followed by the low murmur of your name.

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chronicangel · 6 months ago

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Groupie

Link to this fic on AO3. Words: 2963 Date posted: May 27, 2024

Summary: He’s working for an extremely secretive government organization entirely intent on destroying Superman. So which is worse: That he has a crush on a journalist, or that that journalist is also a Superman groupie?

Lex sits in a chair as far away from the center of the room as he can get, chin propped on a fist, elbow propped on a table with some largely ignored snacks on it, and knee bouncing nervously. He hates these sorts of PR events. They always remind him of his days as an unappreciated assistant, whose primary job, above using his genius intellect to build impressive new tech the likes of which the world had never seen, was making Anthony Ivo look good. At least now his job is mainly to make sure that the companies working with the government to fund his newest endeavors stay happy with the projects and don’t spill too much information publicly.

Several feet away from him, he sees two stuffy old men whose names he can’t keep straight talking to each other in hushed tones. Just as he’s pushing himself out of his chair to go check on what, exactly, they’re whispering about at this extremely public event, he bumps into someone fetching something from the snack table, sending all of the food on their plate directly into their chest. His eyes blow wide, and he scrambles to try to grab some napkins from the table while he spits out, “I am so sorry, I should have been paying more attention to-- you!”

The man across from him is at least a head shorter than him, which isn’t hard given how lanky and awkward Lex has always been. He’s almost 25 years old and his sister still insists every time that he visits her that he’ll fill out soon. His suit-- which is nice, but not remotely the right type of suit for this event, and privately Lex wonders how he got in-- is smeared with chocolate cake, potatoes, cheese, and gold flakes, dark colors and awfully textured mush marring the white button-up and khaki vest. “It’s Jimmy Olsen, right?”

Jimmy blinks up at him a few times, long eyelashes practically brushing against his cheekbones, and then smiles like nothing bad has ever happened at all. “Yeah! And you’re Alex, right?”

Lex can’t help but grimace. “It’s Lex, now,” he says, and then adds somewhat lamely, “I’m trying something new.”

“Lex… I like it!” Jimmy says, clapping Lex on the back and then taking the handful of napkins from him to start carefully dabbing at his shirt, trying to at least get some of the chunks off. “So what are you doing here? Ivo’s still in prison, right?”

He gives an awkward cough of a laugh. “I… I think so! I haven’t really kept track since he isn’t my boss anymore and everything,” he dismisses, probably more quickly than is natural. The reality is that he’s sort of the lead researcher for the team trying to figure out what, exactly, to do with Dr. Ivo. Waller figures he’s got a better shot at it than anybody else. “What about you? I didn’t think this event was open to the press…”

“Oh, I’m not here in a press capacity!” Jimmy laughs, waving a dismissive hand. “I have a pretty huge stake in the Daily Planet now and Perry didn’t really want to come, so I’m here as more of a business type of guy.” He looks down at his shirt, messy napkins crumpled up in his hand, having picked up as much as they’re going to. “Man, I think this thing’s done for.”

“Sorry,” Lex says again, rubbing at the back of his neck now. “I can cover your dry cleaning bill, if you want?” He offers. He gets a substantial stipend from the US government now for his work with Waller and Task Force X, and really, he has no idea what to spend on it anyway.

“How about you just buy me a drink? One with gold in it! I wanna hear about what you’ve been up to since our little chat at S.T.A.R. Labs. Clearly you’ve been up to something cool since you’re at this party for whatever mysterious reason you won’t tell me,” he says, throwing an arm around Lex’s shoulders like they’re old friends.

Lex’s cheeks flush as he gets basically dragged to the bar by this guy, sparing a glance to the pair of old guys. They’re not talking anymore, at least.

“Um,” he starts lamely. Lex has never really been a drinker. He pretty much only has champagne when he’s forced to come to these stupid parties, and even then, it’s mostly to blend in with the elite socialite types, so he rarely ends up drinking more than one glass. “Could my friend here get… a glass of champagne? Uh, with gold flakes in it,” he asks the bartender, who nods and immediately picks up a glass.

“Champagne with gold flakes?” Jimmy asks with raised eyebrows, looking at Lex with the most skeptical expression he’s ever seen. “That’s the best you can do? Did you even go to college?” Without waiting for an answer (not that Lex thinks it was really a genuine question), Jimmy waves at the bartender, “Hey, ix nay on the champagne. Get me two starry nights. Put it under Olsen’s tab.”

“Starry night?” Lex asks, immediately followed by, “Wait, wasn’t I supposed to buy you a drink?”

“Well, you just get the next round then,” Jimmy says with a sly grin. They’re silent until the drinks come, with Lex just staring at Jimmy like he’s an alien. The other man seems completely confident, like he’s not out of place at this sort of event at all. He’s overly friendly, too, like he thinks he can just make friends with anyone. Then again, considering the situation Lex has found himself in, he guesses that must work. Maybe he needs to start projecting more confidence… The drinks that are placed in front of them are two gradients from clear liquid into a rich, coffee brown color, with gold flakes floating throughout. “Now, hold your nose and shoot it all back.”

Lex hardly registers what’s happening before the drink is in his hand, their glasses are clinking together, and then he’s throwing his head back with his nose pinched between two fingers and pouring the alcohol down his throat. It’s not like champagne at all. It burns, and it tastes like gasoline. He almost gags, but he manages to get it down. The aftertaste is like some awful mix between cinnamon and black licorice, and he can’t imagine why college students would drink this on purpose.

“It’s bad, right?” Jimmy asks, and Lex stares at him.

“You’re the one who ordered it!”

Jimmy laughs, and the sound makes Lex’s cheeks tinge pink again, heat crawling up his face. “It’s not about tasting good,” he says, which doesn’t make any sense to Lex at all.

“Then what is it about?”

Jimmy is quiet for a second, staring into the empty glass like it has the answer. To what, Lex doesn’t know-- he doesn’t think it’s the question that he asked. He’s got a sort of nostalgic fondness on his face, like he’s remembering something important to him. Lex wants more than anything to know what it is.

“Sometimes, life is beautiful, but it tastes bad going down. That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it for the beautiful parts-- gold flakes, the warmth in your gut, the people you’re with. Why waste all your time on boring champagne?”

Lex stares at him for a second. It occurs to him, somehow not for the first time even though this is only the third time they’ve met, that Jimmy Olsen must be a very wise person. He wants to know how he got to be so wise.

Jimmy beats him to the punch. “Aaanyway,” he starts, pointing an accusing finger at Lex, “what have you been up to since the last time I saw you? I mean, it’s only been a couple months, and now you’re at this fancy party for rich people and your boss isn’t even running it. Well, maybe your boss is running it. Is your boss Loren Jupiter?”

He snorts. “I don’t even know what Loren Jupiter does,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand for dramatic effect. “Look, I’m not at liberty to say too much about it, but I’m kind of working for the government now.”

The other man stares for a second, and then turns to the bartender. “Yeah, we’re gonna need more drinks.”

The next several minutes are spent with Jimmy trying to ask Lex probing questions about his new job and Lex expertly dodging them, if he may say so himself. Jimmy orders more and more drinks, until eventually the flush in Lex’s cheeks won’t go away and he can feel himself loosening up way more than he reasonably can. He has to redirect this. “Okay, enough talking about me. What about you, Jimmy Olsen? I know you work at the Daily Planet, but why? Why journalism?”

Jimmy hums in consideration for a long moment, staring into his empty glass again. “My dad was in the military and went MIA when I was a baby. Mom always said that he probably died, but I knew something else had to be going on. I kind of went down this whole government conspiracy theory rabbithole,” he laughs, but Lex can tell from the edge to it that there’s more he’s not saying. “I looked for connections in places other people didn’t. I’ve always known that the world is a secretive place, and I’ve always wanted to uncover those secrets. But nobody ever really took me seriously. I wanted to go into investigative journalism at first, but writing was never really my strong suit. So, I picked up a camera.”

They’re both quiet for another long minute. Lex watches Jimmy, sees the way that sadness dulls the light in his eyes, those eyes the color of chocolate and coffee and whatever the hell is in these drinks. It fills him with a sort of… anger, in a way that he can’t describe. The world is a secretive place-- a secretive and unjust one full of Supermen who take all the power for themselves and narcissists like Ivo who think they’re better and smarter than everyone else while people like Lex and Jimmy do all of the work. No one ever took Jimmy seriously? How dare they? How dare they ignore what Lex can see so plainly-- a genius just like him? “One day people are really going to regret overlooking you, Jimmy. I can tell.”

The smile that Jimmy gives him is half-hearted, and it twists something unidentifiable in Lex’s chest. “Well, all of that is behind me now, anyway. I have a great job at the Planet, and great friends. Lois and Clark have always believed in me. And once Flamebird blew up for my coverage of Superman stuff, the Daily Planet bought it and now I guess I… well I guess people take that seriously, if nothing else,” he says, with that same edge as his laugh earlier.

Lex wants to yell about something. He doesn’t know what. These so-called friends, who clearly haven’t supported him enough? The fact that it took Superman to get Jimmy the recognition he’s deserved from the start? That he still seems to think no one takes him seriously for anything else? Before he can even open his mouth to try to lament any of this, though, Jimmy is smiling again and jabbing him in the shoulder with a finger. “Well what about you, then? How did you start working for Ivo? I mean, why would a nice guy like you build something like the Parasite?”

Even though he’s never felt ashamed of it before, suddenly, Lex doesn’t want to admit that the Parasite armor was actually his idea. There’s something about the way that he says it that makes Lex feel like he doesn’t approve, and he desperately wants his approval. For the first time, Lex is the one who waves down the bartender and requests another round of drinks, and he waits until they’ve been set in front of them and he feels that burn down his throat for what must be at least the half-dozenth time of the night before he starts saying anything. He doesn’t think he would have the guts to tell anyone this sober.

“When I was a kid, my father used to… he wasn’t…” He grasps for the words that usually come to him so naturally, his jaw locking up. Jimmy puts a hand on his wrist and looks at him with furrowed eyebrows, like he’s really concerned. Lex takes a deep breath.

“I grew up in Suicide Slum, here in Metropolis. My parents weren’t… the best. Mom just watched while Dad used to take stuff out on us. Me and my sister, Lena. She was always sick when we were kids, wheelchair-bound when she wasn’t bedbound, and I think my parents always blamed her for the fact that we didn’t have any money. You’d think that would make me the favorite child, but it was kind of like a race to the bottom. And I didn’t want to be the favorite, anyway. I just wanted to keep my sister safe. I wasn’t able to protect her, and it made me feel so… small. That’s why I worked with AmazoTech on the Parasite armor.” He conveniently leaves out the part where he’s the one who pitched it, and where that’s what got him the job in the first place. “I don’t think anyone should ever have to go through that, to feel that way. You shouldn’t have to be Superman to protect people-- and you shouldn’t have to rely on Superman to protect people either. What happens when he decides that the rest of us are like Lena? Sick people he can blame for all his problems?” He tries not to let too much bitterness leak into his voice, sinking in on himself a little. When he looks over at Jimmy, the other man’s jaw is hanging open, and Lex can’t read his face. It makes his stomach twist up in knots.

Finally, Jimmy seems to realize that he’s staring and composes himself, mouth snapping shut. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry that you went through all of that,” he says, and his voice is so earnest. “But I think you’re wrong about Superman,” he adds, and Lex can only stare at him, chest tight again. “That’s the exact kind of thing that Superman is trying to put a stop to in Metropolis.”

“By making himself the law?” Lex snaps, annoyance leaking into his voice. “Maybe he is trying to help people-- but who is he helping? Do you really think that it’s everyone? No one can care about everyone. He certainly doesn’t care about the criminals he beats up. He doesn’t care about the people whose cars he’s flipping and whose walls he’s caving in. He didn’t care about me when he shut down AmazoTech and I lost my job.”

Contrary to what Lex might expect, Jimmy’s face softens a little. He reaches a hand out and rests it on Lex’s shoulder, and Lex’s eyes flash to it for a second. He thinks his face would heat up if it wasn’t already about as hot as it could get from all of those drinks. “You’re hurting,” he starts. “I get that. Honestly, I was once really hurt by Superman, too. It felt like he was one of the people who was supposed to be there for me, and he wasn’t, y’know? But then he was. And I think one day, he’ll be there for you, too. Maybe that’ll take some time. But I believe that.”

Lex considers these words for a minute. Is it possible that Superman could save him, just like he saves so many other people every day? Maybe. That’s not what Lex wants, though. He doesn’t need some superhero to fly in and rescue him. He wants to rescue himself. He wants to rescue the people he cares about. He wants people to know that Lex Luthor is not some weak little boy who cowers in the corner in fear, but a genius who has the power to take down even Superman. No one and nothing is ever going to hurt Lex Luthor again.

But before he can even think about saying any of that or what a bad idea it would be, the bartender announces to the two of them, “Sorry, guys. Event’s over in fifteen minutes. I gotta start cleaning the bar.” Lex stares at him for a second, and then at Jimmy. His hand is still on Lex’s shoulder, and the last thing that he wants is for him to move it. He doesn’t want to part ways at all. He wants to invite Jimmy to continue this conversation somewhere more comfortable.

When Jimmy finally does pull his hand away, it feels like the skin where he touched him is burning. “Well, I guess that’s goodbye for now,” he says with a grin, holding the hand out for a handshake. Stunned, Lex shakes his hand, staring at the shorter man for a long moment. He wants to kiss him. He knows this is a bad idea, for a number of reasons, yet he can’t stop himself from staring at his mouth.

Jimmy leaves not long after that, and Lex watches him until he’s out the door, along with half of the rest of the crowd, his heart pounding against his ribs and his stomach twisted into knots. He’s working for an extremely secretive government organization entirely intent on destroying Superman. So which is worse: That he has a crush on a journalist, or that that journalist is also a Superman groupie?

#Darla writes #DC Comics #My Adventures with Superman #Lex Luthor #Jimmy Olsen #LexJimmy #POV Third Person #Drinking #Party #Rarepair #Unrequited Crush

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