#gadgets and quirks au

[deusvervewrites]

Escaping Gravity AU x Quirks and Gadgets AU x Bloodright AU x All For Eri AU x All For Support AU:

Midoriya: Ok, so you’re All For One’s daughter.

Uraraka: Yes.

Midoriya: And you are also All For One’s daughter.

Melissa: That is correct.

Midoriya: And you are his adopted daughter who was supposed to spy on U.A.

Himiko: Yup!

Midoriya: And you were supposed to be All For One’s…protege? Except that you accidentally killed him, and he gave you all his Quirks, probably to avoid dying.

Eri: Mmhm.

Midoriya: And you all thought that I was his unknown fifth child.

Everyone else: Pretty much.

I mean after all that it hardly sounds like a stretch

[nemisuki]

Sunshine

Jealous AU | It wasn't often you spoke to those outside your class. So imagine his shock when he saw you speaking to a random extra in the hallway. A short oneshot of jealous bakugo and an oblivious girl who is unaware of a lot of things… including their romance.

᧔o᧓ || Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader, no manga spoilers, no nsfw, pure fluff, minor jealous bkg but not toxic, aged up to third years, dense reader, mutual feelings, bkg pov, implied short reader, oneshot, bkg is mature and a softie, open ending, 1.1k word count

He had to do a double take to make sure he wasn't mistaking something. 

His red eyes are practically boring into the student's back – who had the guts to approach you. 

A random extra from another course, a guy he's never seen before. So why the hell are you talking to him? 

As much as he tried, he couldn't look away from the sight. Who knows what they might pull on you. Bakugo can tell by the way the idiot looks at her, that the guy is clearly interested. 

That pissed him off. 

And what pissed him off even more is that she's completely oblivious of it. 

The girl didn't know how beautiful she was. How blinding her smile was when she saw something she liked.

How blinding her smile was when she looked at him.

If only she recognized the significance of her own feelings.

Bakugo could tell she liked him more than a friend should. Yet the dense idiot didn't know how she felt herself. 

He knew she unknowingly developed feelings for him as they started their third year. For someone as perceptive as him, it was easy to notice the clues. 

She clings to him despite his rough demeanor. And easily laughs whenever he grumbles a snarky comment under his breath. Always following him around both in and out of class. 

At first he didn't know what to do. He wasn't one to even think about romance. But her constant proximity threw the blonde off. 

Slowly as time went on, he found himself expecting to see her by his side. Feeling a bit uneasy on those rare days they didn't spend much time together. By the time they were halfway into their last year at UA, that's when he knew. 

He liked her too. As more than a friend. 

For the first time in his life, Katsuki Bakugo yearned for romance. Yet only with her.  

The realization only made him more agitated. Him growing soft for a girl? How ridiculous.

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ  ⎯⎯ ✦

He was pulled out of his thoughts a few seconds later. The reason?

The sight of the other guy lifting his hand and picking a piece of lint out of her hair. Not a second later, taking the opportunity to ruffle her hair playfully.

That's what had him speed walking over there with purpose, “Oi Y/N!” 

Her head quickly turns around at the familiar sound of his voice, “Ah Bakugo! Good Morning!” she says with a bright smile, completely forgetting about the other presence behind her. 

That response alone, almost made his stoic expression morph into a cocky grin. Almost. 

He grumbles in acknowledgment as he stands by her side, looking back and forth between her and the extra close by. A silent question directed towards Y/N. To which she seems to figure out immediately. 

“Oh this is Kai from the support course. He had some ideas for potential support gadgets I could use to regulate my quirk!” 

Support course huh. 

Bakugo simply stares at the other guy, a calm yet serious expression displayed across his face. He makes no move to greet this supposed ‘kai’ or even initiate small talk. 

A moment of silence passes between the three of them.

Kai smiles awkwardly in Bakugos direction, a visible indication of how uncomfortable he is. “Erm- well I should be heading to class now. See you around Y/N” he says but then quickly leaves as he makes eye contact with Bakugo. 

Meanwhile the blonde's ego skyrocketed from his success of driving the coward away. His shoulders slightly relax from the defensive stance he wasn't even aware he was doing. 

“Huh? What was that about?” she says looking back at Bakugo with a curious expression. Tilting her head to show her confusion. 

“Tch how the hell should I know. Now hurry up. We gotta head to class” he says, turning around and starting to walk in the direction of their classroom. He doesn't need to look back to know she's already shutting her locker.

“Or do you want to be late?” he says, loud enough for her to hear. 

“Ah, I'm going. Wait up!” she says while proceeding to run to catch up. Slowing down when she reaches his side and adjusting her bag that's draped over her shoulder. 

He occasionally glances at her as she starts babbling about random topics. Though he's not really paying attention to her words. He’s eyeing the side of her head, the specific spot where the other extra touched her. 

Bakugo doesn't know how to feel. 

He's confident in her feelings for him. Confident in his own abilities. 

Yet being a boyfriend… is something he can't comprehend. What exactly makes a good partner? Empathy? Kindness? Vulnerability? 

None of those reside with him. 

He ponders for a moment and takes a look at her cheerful expression. Full of bright joy that could rival the sun. 

His feelings only seem to grow more by the second. 

Without much thought he lifts his hand and gently pats her head. She pauses her endless chatter and hums in acknowledgement, “hm?” 

“Your hair is all messed up from before” he grumbles while fixing the random strands of hair by patting them down in place.

They both halt in the middle of the hallway as she lets him finish. Giggling at the soft sensation of his hand. He raises a brow at her sudden outburst. 

“What's so funny, idiot?” he huffs out and pinches her puffy cheek, unable to resist. 

“It tickles! Plus your hand is really warm. Agh- hey!” she whines slightly at his sudden actions. Trying to pry his hands away and retaliate. Only causing his body to tingle at the contact. 

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

He likes her. A lot. 

“When are you gonna realize huh” he mumbles to himself. Showing pity and letting go of her face. 

“Huh sorry what was that?” she says smiling while rubbing her sore cheek.

“Nothing nerd. Cmon pick up the pace, you're slow as hell” he rolls his eyes and continues walking to class, not waiting for her yet again. 

“Not my fault I have small legs!” she yells out and jogs after him, already falling behind.

She can't see it but his lips slightly curve up at her words. What an idiot. 

A few minutes before the bell, they make it to their classroom. Bakugo ignores his classmates as usual and makes a beeline to his seat. Sitting down and taking out his notebook. 

He can already hear Y/N chattering away in the background with some of their friends. Yet a few seconds later she's already at his desk to blab on about something else. 

Some of their friends come over as well to join in on the conversation. 

But his eyes never leave her. 

He may not know all the aspects of how to be a good boyfriend but for her, he’ll try. When the time is right. 

For now he could only wait for Y/N to figure out her own feelings. Which frankly might take awhile.

But Bakugo isn't worried. 

Because he knows she'll follow him anywhere. 

And so would he. 

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| idk why this specific fic got so popular?! it's my most viewed work but I prefer my other ones ermmm hi bakugo fans... check out my longer fics? if u want? um i love u all byeeee! plus ultra!

[amethystarachnid]

CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL - part I

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Request: Fantastic event 😍 I want to make a request for Fem reader + Tony Stark, please! "Christmas morning surprise", breakfast in bed made by Tony, a surprise gift: Tony proposing the reader and saying the most beautiful things and cuddling by the tree later, drinking hot cocoa 😍 (@heygoodgirly)

ᯓ★ Word count: 4.8k

ᯓ★ Part II

ᯓ★ Summary: Tony Stark has never been one for romantic things but for you, oh, for you he'd become the most romantic man on earth. And that's exactly what he's trying to be as he gets ready to pop the question

ᯓ★ TW(s): fluff fluff fluff

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The morning light spills softly through the gaps in the curtains, painting warm streaks of gold across the bedroom. You’re cocooned in the blankets, your face nestled into the pillow, completely oblivious to the world. For once, there’s no sound of the whirring gadgets or the mechanical hum of some early-morning project Tony’s working on in his lab. The quiet feels suspicious. But you don’t wake, not yet.

Downstairs, the man himself is pacing. Stark Tower—or what’s now become a semi-permanent Stark-and-You Tower—is unusually serene, save for the sound of Tony muttering to himself. In the kitchen, an array of utensils clutters the countertop. Pots, pans, and a suspiciously stained cutting board bear evidence of an attempt at cooking. Actual cooking. Not JARVIS ordering the latest Michelin-starred meal.

“Okay, okay, just… flip it gently,” Tony says under his breath, staring down a pan like it’s a volatile science experiment. His hair is a mess, and there’s a smear of flour on his cheek that he hasn’t noticed yet. “How hard can eggs be? They’re just tiny little things. People do this every day.”

The spatula makes contact, but predictably, the omelet doesn't cooperate. It folds awkwardly, and a piece flops onto the burner. Tony groans, his free hand tugging at his hair.

“Yeah, this is going great. Real Gordon Ramsay stuff here.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm as he glares at the breakfast carnage. He pauses, tapping his fingers against the counter, before grabbing another egg and cracking it into a fresh bowl. “She better appreciate this. Slaving away like a 1950s housewife… minus the pearls. Or the misogyny.”

JARVIS chimes in unprompted. “Might I suggest using a lower heat setting, sir? You appear to be—”

“No, no, no. I got this, J. Do not swoop in with your fancy AI advice. This is a Tony Stark original, and I’ll be damned if technology fixes my… whatever this is.”

“As you wish,” JARVIS replies smoothly, the slightest hint of amusement in his tone.

Tony manages to plate something passable, a mixture of eggs, toast, and fruit that—miraculously—looks edible. He surveys his handiwork with a critical eye, then lets out a huff. “If this doesn’t scream ‘romantic Christmas breakfast,’ I don’t know what does.”

There’s a small box tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants, a box that has no business being near sizzling pans or flour-covered counters. He knows better. He’s Tony Stark, after all. Precision is his thing—normally. But today? He feels like a live wire, energy sparking unpredictably under his skin.

“Okay. Breakfast first. Then the thing. Easy.” He picks up the tray and heads for the stairs, deliberately ignoring the persistent flutter in his chest.

The bedroom is still quiet when he pushes the door open with his shoulder, the tray balanced precariously in his hands. You’re exactly where he left you, sprawled under the covers with one arm flung lazily over your head. The sight makes his lips quirk into a crooked smile, the kind he reserves for moments no one else gets to see.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he says, his voice low but teasing. “Or should I say Sleeping Beast? You snore, you know.”

You stir slightly, mumbling something incoherent, and he snickers. “I’ll take that as a ‘good morning, Tony. Thanks for the breakfast-in-bed surprise. You’re the best boyfriend in the known universe.’” He sets the tray down on the nightstand and leans over to press a kiss to your temple. “I know, I know. I’m amazing.”

You blink awake slowly, your eyes adjusting to the soft light. “What…?” Your voice is thick with sleep, and you prop yourself up on one elbow, squinting at him. “What are you doing?”

“Delivering five-star cuisine,” he says, gesturing grandly at the tray. “Emphasis on the ‘five.’ I wouldn’t check the Yelp reviews if I were you.”

Your gaze shifts to the tray, and a small laugh escapes your lips. “You… made this?”

“Shockingly, yes. With these very hands.” He holds them up for emphasis. “And I only started one tiny grease fire, which I think is a personal record.”

You sit up more fully now, the blankets pooling around your waist. “Why? What’s the occasion?”

Tony shrugs, leaning casually against the bedpost, though there’s nothing casual about the way his heart thuds at your question. “Can’t a guy just do something nice for his girlfriend without getting the third degree? It’s Christmas, in case you forgot. Figured I’d play Santa and spoil you a little.”

Your smile softens, and you reach for the coffee mug on the tray. “You’re full of surprises, Stark.”

“That’s what they say,” he replies, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching as you take a sip of the coffee. He’s relieved when you don’t grimace. Coffee, at least, is one thing he knows he can’t mess up.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you say, picking up a fork and spearing a piece of toast.

“Of course I did,” he retorts. “You’re lucky I didn’t bring out a violinist for ambiance. Thought about it. Decided it was too much.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, here you are. Voluntarily waking up next to me every day. Who’s the ridiculous one now?”

There’s a comfortable rhythm to your banter, one that makes the rest of the world fade away. He watches you eat, his expression softening when you’re not looking. Every now and then, you catch him staring, and he brushes it off with a quick quip or a self-deprecating joke, but the truth is, he’s just… captivated.

He’s done a lot of big things in his life. Saved the world, built a legacy, even cheated death a couple of times. But this—sitting here with you, on a lazy Christmas morning—is one of those rare moments that feels monumental in its simplicity.

Tony taps his fingers against his knee, his mind racing even as he tries to keep the conversation light. He’s thinking about the box in his pocket, about the way your eyes will light up when you see what’s inside. He’s thinking about how terrifying and exhilarating it is to want something so deeply, to want you forever.

“So, on a scale of one to ten,” he says, breaking the silence, “how would you rate the masterpiece I just served you? Be honest. But remember, I have an ego to protect.”

You tilt your head, pretending to deliberate. “Hmm… solid eight. Maybe eight-point-five.”

“Eight-point-five?” he echoes, feigning offense. “What, did the toast offend you?”

“It’s a little… uneven,” you tease, holding up a slightly charred edge. “But I’ll let it slide.”

He rolls his eyes dramatically. “Unbelievable. This is the thanks I get.”

Leaning closer, you kiss the corner of his mouth, a soft and lingering gesture that immediately shuts him up. When you pull back, your grin is mischievous. “Better?”

“Marginally,” he mutters, though his smirk gives him away.

You settle back against the pillows, the tray balanced carefully on your lap. Tony leans on one arm, his gaze drifting over your face as you savor the last bites of breakfast. He’s nervous, though he’d never admit it out loud. Not yet. He wants to do this right—to give you a memory you’ll carry with you forever. But more than that, he wants you to know just how much you mean to him, even if he’s not always the best at saying it.

For now, though, he keeps it light, keeps it normal. There’s time. At least, he hopes there’s time.

“By the way,” he says, his voice tinged with mock seriousness, “you’re washing the dishes.”

Your laughter fills the room, and for a moment, all his nerves fade away.

The warmth of the room is a cocoon against the chill of the winter morning outside, and you’re tangled in each other, limbs intertwined and bodies pressed close beneath the covers. The breakfast tray is forgotten, pushed aside to make room for this: the kind of quiet intimacy that feels like a luxury. Tony’s arm is draped over your waist, his thumb absently brushing along the curve of your hip as if he’s memorizing the feel of you.

His voice is soft when he speaks, carrying none of the usual bravado. “Y’know, if I could freeze time, I’d keep us here. Just like this.”

You hum contentedly, your cheek resting against his chest, where the steady thrum of his heartbeat feels like a secret melody. “I wouldn’t mind that,” you murmur, tilting your face to meet his gaze. His brown eyes are warm and intent, studying you like you’re a puzzle he never wants to solve.

The comfortable silence stretches, broken only by the faint sound of the city beyond the windows. But then, a sudden thought strikes you, and you sit up slightly, your hair mussed from sleep and your eyes sparkling with realization.

“Wait,” you say, breaking the spell. “We still have to open gifts. It’s Christmas morning, remember?”

Tony groans dramatically, flopping back against the pillows as though you’ve just suggested something truly exhausting. “Oh, come on, can’t we stay in bed for a few more hours? Maybe the gifts will open themselves.”

You laugh, wriggling free from his hold, but he’s faster. Before you can fully escape, his arms wrap around you, pulling you back down onto the mattress. You let out a playful squeal, but he doesn’t relent.

“Tony!” you protest, though you’re grinning. “The gifts—”

“Can wait,” he says firmly, his hands settling at your waist to keep you firmly in place. His voice softens, turning almost serious as his eyes meet yours. “Besides, I’ve got something more important right here.”

His tone makes you pause, your smile faltering for just a second as you study him. There’s something in his expression—a mix of vulnerability and determination—that you don’t see often. It sends a flutter through your chest, though you can’t quite put your finger on why.

“More important than presents?” you tease, trying to lighten the mood. “That doesn’t sound like the Tony Stark I know.”

“The Tony Stark you know has layers,” he quips, though his usual sarcasm feels gentler now, like a shield he’s only half-raising. His hands find yours, lacing your fingers together, and he takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“Look, I had this whole plan,” he begins, his words coming quickly now, like he’s worried he might lose his nerve. “Candles, music, maybe even fireworks—because, y’know, I’m me. But then I realized… all of that stuff doesn’t really matter, does it?”

You blink at him, your brows knitting together in confusion. “Tony, what are you—?”

“Shh,” he cuts you off gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Let me do this, okay? Just… let me get it out before I explode or short-circuit or something.”

Your heart is racing now, a mix of anticipation and disbelief. You nod, unable to find your voice.

“I’ve been a lot of things in my life,” he says, his gaze unwavering. “A genius, a billionaire, a total pain in the ass. But with you, it’s different. You make me want to be better. Hell, you make me better. And it’s not just the big stuff—though saving the world is a hell of a lot easier when I know you’re waiting for me to come home. It’s the little things, too. The way you laugh at my stupid jokes, or how you somehow manage to make this place feel like an actual home.”

His voice wavers slightly, and he swallows hard, his grip on your hands tightening. “I used to think I had everything I needed. The cars, the suits, the fancy tech. But then you came along, and suddenly none of that mattered. Because you… you’re my everything. And I don’t want to waste another second pretending I don’t know that.”

Your breath catches as he shifts slightly, pulling a small box from the pocket of his sweatpants. He holds it up, his hand trembling just enough for you to notice.

“I’m not great at this kind of thing,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I know one thing for sure: I don’t want to wake up another day without knowing you’re mine. So, will you—?”

“Tony,” you interrupt, your own voice trembling now. You press a hand to your mouth, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions surging through you.

His face falls slightly, panic flashing in his eyes. “Oh, no. Is this a bad time? Did I—? I should’ve waited, shouldn’t I? Or maybe done the whole fireworks thing. Damn it, I knew I should’ve—”

“No, no, it’s not that,” you say quickly, though your tone is teasing now, even as tears glisten in your eyes. You let out a shaky laugh, leaning back slightly as if considering. “I don’t know, Tony… this is a pretty big decision. I mean, are you really sure you can handle me forever?”

He stares at you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “What—? Of course, I’m sure! Are you seriously asking if I—?”

“I mean,” you continue, biting back a grin, “I do snore, apparently. And I’m not great at remembering where I put my keys. Plus, I make you watch all those sappy holiday movies—”

“Yes!” he blurts out, his voice a mix of exasperation and desperation. “Yes, I can handle all of that. Hell, I’d watch ‘Love, Actually’ on repeat for the rest of my life if it means you’ll say yes. Just—please. Don’t make me beg. I’m Tony Stark, for God’s sake.”

You can’t hold it in any longer. The laughter bubbles out of you, and you reach up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing over his stubble. “You’re such a dork,” you whisper, leaning in until your foreheads touch. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”

For a moment, Tony just stares at you, his brain clearly struggling to process your words. Then, his face breaks into a grin so wide it’s almost boyish, and he lets out a breathless laugh, relief washing over him like a tidal wave.

“You’re really saying yes?” he asks, as if he can’t quite believe it. “You’re not messing with me, right? Because if this is some elaborate joke—”

“I’m not messing with you,” you assure him, your own smile mirroring his. “I’m saying yes, Tony. A thousand times yes.”

He doesn’t wait another second. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into a kiss that’s both fervent and tender, a kiss that feels like a promise. When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads still pressed together.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of wonder.

“Merry Christmas,” you reply, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him again.

The massive tree in the corner of the penthouse sparkles like something out of a holiday dream, its glittering ornaments and twinkling lights casting a warm, golden glow over the room. The fireplace crackles softly, and the faint sound of holiday music hums in the background, setting the perfect cozy scene. You’re curled up on the plush couch, nestled into Tony’s side, a thick blanket draped over both of you. Your legs are tangled together, and in your hands is a mug of steaming hot cocoa, its sweetness enhanced by the swirl of whipped cream and the faintest hint of peppermint.

You glance at the tree, then at the pile of opened gifts scattered around the room. Wrapping paper is crumpled in corners, bows are tossed aside, and the faint smell of pine from the tree mingles with the chocolatey aroma of your drinks. But none of that holds your attention for long.

Your eyes drift down to your left hand, where the delicate engagement ring Tony slipped onto your finger just a little while ago catches the firelight. The diamond—a perfect, understated yet dazzling stone—is framed by a sleek, modern band that feels so you it’s uncanny.

“I still can’t believe this,” you murmur, holding your hand up slightly to admire the ring again. “It’s perfect. The size, the design… it’s like you read my mind.”

Tony smirks, taking a sip of his cocoa before setting the mug on the coffee table. “Please. You think I’d propose to you without doing my homework first? I might be reckless, but I’m not stupid.”

You turn to him, one brow raised in playful skepticism. “Homework? Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Absolutely,” he says, his tone teasing but with a glint of pride in his eyes. “I had spreadsheets. Diagrams. A whole team of—”

“Tony!” you cut him off, laughing as you swat at his chest. “You did not have a team.”

“Fine,” he relents, grinning. “But I did pay attention. All those times you casually pointed out rings in magazine ads or that one time you dragged me past Tiffany’s and sighed at the window display? Let’s just say I’ve been taking notes.”

You shake your head, marveling at him. “And the size? How did you get that right? Don’t tell me you measured my finger while I was sleeping or something creepy like that.”

Tony’s grin widens, and there’s a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “Would you believe me if I said I have a natural talent for guessing ring sizes?”

“No.”

“Fair enough,” he concedes. “I may or may not have borrowed one of your rings when you weren’t looking. For research purposes.”

“Research purposes,” you repeat, your voice dripping with amusement. “Wow, I didn’t realize getting engaged to you would involve so much corporate espionage.”

“Hey,” he says, feigning indignation, “it worked, didn’t it? Look at that ring. Perfect fit, perfect style… just like the woman wearing it.”

The sincerity in his last words catches you off guard, and your playful retort dies on your lips. Instead, you feel a warmth spreading through your chest, a kind of joy so profound it’s almost overwhelming.

“You’re really something, you know that?” you say softly, setting your mug down so you can turn toward him fully.

Tony leans back slightly, a cocky grin on his face. “Something amazing, I hope.”

“Something infuriating,” you tease, your fingers brushing over the stubble along his jaw. “But yeah… amazing too.”

His grin softens into something more genuine, and he cups your face with one hand, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “You make it easy, you know. Wanting to get this stuff right. You deserve it, all of it. The ring, the world, the whole damn galaxy if I could give it to you.”

You feel your throat tighten, and you lean into his touch, pressing a kiss to his palm. “I don’t need the galaxy, Tony. I just need you.”

There’s a flicker of something vulnerable in his expression, a glimpse of the man who hides beneath the sarcasm and the bravado. He leans in to kiss you, a slow and tender kiss that feels like a promise, like the future you’re both stepping into together.

When you pull back, you settle against his chest again, letting out a contented sigh. “So,” you say after a moment, your voice light, “what’s your favorite gift so far? Besides me saying yes, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoes, smirking as he runs his fingers through your hair. “That’s number one by a mile. But if I had to pick something else… I’d say the socks.”

You blink, confused. “The socks?”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding seriously. “You know, the ones with my face on them? Absolute game-changer.”

You laugh so hard you nearly spill your cocoa. “I knew you’d love those. Happy to know they rival the engagement ring.”

“Well, they don’t exactly rival the ring,” he admits, his tone turning thoughtful. “But they do add a certain… flair to my wardrobe. Can’t wait to wear them to the next board meeting.”

You groan, burying your face in his chest. “Please don’t.”

“No promises,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

You’re quiet for a while after that, the two of you simply enjoying the warmth and comfort of being together. The fire crackles softly, and the snow outside begins to fall more heavily, blanketing the city in a shimmering white coat. You watch it through the enormous windows, your head still resting against Tony’s shoulder.

“I think this might be my favorite Christmas ever,” you say after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Only might?” Tony quips, though there’s a softness to his tone. “What do I have to do to make it the undisputed champ?”

“Hmm,” you pretend to think, holding up your hand again to admire the ring. “You’ve set the bar pretty high, Stark. Proposing and getting me the perfect ring? You might’ve peaked.”

“Peaked?” he repeats, feigning offense. “Please. This is just the beginning. Wait until next Christmas. I’ll have holographic wrapping paper and drones delivering your presents.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he says, tightening his hold on you, “you said yes.”

You smile, snuggling closer to him, and let your eyes drift shut. The weight of the moment settles over you like the warmest of blankets, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Neither of you speaks for a while, content to simply be. The snow falls outside, the fire burns low, and the city below buzzes quietly with life. But up here, in this little corner of the universe, it’s just the two of you—and that’s more than enough.

The fire crackles softly in the background as you nestle further into Tony’s side, your legs draped lazily over his lap beneath the plush throw blanket. The mug of cocoa you abandoned earlier sits on the coffee table, now lukewarm, but neither of you has the energy or desire to move. The world beyond the enormous penthouse windows is a snow-covered wonderland, the city twinkling like something out of a postcard. But here, in Tony’s arms, the rest of the world feels like an afterthought.

You’re staring at your ring again—still unable to get over how perfectly it suits you—and twirling it gently on your finger. “I can’t believe we’re actually engaged,” you murmur, the words still foreign and thrilling all at once.

Tony hums, his fingers idly tracing patterns along your arm. “Yeah, well, it was bound to happen eventually. I’m a catch, after all.”

You snort, poking him in the ribs. “You’re lucky I love you, Stark. Otherwise, you’d be proposing to your ego.”

“Please,” he retorts, grinning. “My ego would’ve said no. Too much competition.”

Your laughter echoes warmly in the cozy space, and he pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But seriously,” he continues, his voice softer now, “I’m the lucky one.”

The sincerity in his tone melts your teasing grin into a tender smile. “We’re both lucky,” you say, leaning up to kiss him briefly before settling back against him. “But now that you’ve got me locked down, we should probably start thinking about the next steps.”

Tony perks up at that, his eyebrows raising in mock surprise. “Next steps? Wow, didn’t realize we were rushing through the milestones. What’s next, matching sweatpants?”

“Don’t tempt me,” you tease, poking him again. “But seriously, we should start thinking about the wedding. You know, dates, locations, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, sure,” he says, waving a hand as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “We’ll rent out a castle or something. Maybe a yacht. Or both. Castle on a yacht. I’ll make it happen.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “Tony, we don’t need a castle on a yacht. I was thinking something more… intimate.”

“Intimate,” he repeats, like the word is entirely foreign to him. “Okay, define ‘intimate.’ Like… eighty people instead of eight hundred?”

“More like thirty,” you say, smirking at his dramatic gasp. “And maybe somewhere beautiful but low-key. A vineyard? A garden? Somewhere that doesn’t involve holographic invitations.”

Tony pouts, his bottom lip sticking out like a child denied dessert. “You’re no fun. I had this great idea for AI-driven seating charts.”

“Tony,” you groan, laughing as you swat his arm. “No AI at the wedding.”

“Fine, fine,” he concedes, though you can tell his brain is already whirring with ideas. “But we’re keeping the open bar. And there will be cake. A ridiculous amount of cake.”

“Deal,” you agree, grinning. “And maybe a live band? Something classic.”

“Classic, huh?” Tony muses, tilting his head as he considers. “Sinatra? Ella? Or are we talking ‘classic’ like… AC/DC?”

You laugh, burying your face in his shoulder. “I should’ve known you’d sneak AC/DC into this somehow.”

“Hey, it’s our wedding,” he says, his tone teasing but with a playful wink. “And by ‘our,’ I mean you’ll pick all the details, and I’ll just show up in a ridiculously expensive tux and look charming.”

You snuggle closer, your smile softening. “That’s all I really need, anyway.”

There’s a pause as the two of you settle into the quiet again, but you can feel Tony’s fingers fidgeting against your arm, a sure sign that his mind is still racing. You glance up at him, your brow raised. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, though the sheepish look on his face betrays him.

“Tony,” you press, sitting up slightly. “Spill.”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting toward the window as if searching for an escape. Finally, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. It’s just… I was thinking. About… you know, after the wedding.”

“After the wedding?” you echo, tilting your head. “You mean the honeymoon?”

“Sure,” he says, though his tone is distracted. “But I was also thinking… further out. Like… a house. Or maybe—hypothetically—a kid. Or two.”

Your mouth drops open slightly, caught completely off guard. “You’re already thinking about kids?”

“Hypothetically!” he clarifies quickly, though there’s a nervous energy to his voice. “I mean, I’m just saying… it’s crossed my mind. Once or twice. Or, you know, a dozen times.”

You’re quiet for a moment, processing his words. Then, a slow smile spreads across your face, and you lean back against him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Tony Stark, are you saying you want to be a dad?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. “I’m saying… I wouldn’t hate the idea. I mean, think about it. A tiny human running around with your smarts and my charm? World domination is practically guaranteed.”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he says, grinning now, “you said yes.”

You shake your head, your heart swelling with affection. “I think you’d be a great dad, Tony. Once you figure out how to baby-proof all your gadgets.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffs, though his smile is genuine. “I’d invent a whole line of Stark-brand baby-proof tech. Patent it. Make billions.”

“Of course you would,” you say, rolling your eyes. “But maybe we should focus on the wedding first before we start planning our takeover of the parenting world.”

“Fair,” he concedes, pulling you closer. “But just so you know, I’m already brainstorming names. You should’ve heard the one I came up with yesterday. Absolute gold.”

“Oh no,” you groan, laughing again. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

He leans in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Tony Junior. Think about it. T.J. for short.”

You burst out laughing, your head falling against his chest. “We are not naming our child Tony Junior.”

“Fine, fine,” he says, chuckling along with you. “We’ll workshop it.”

As your laughter fades, you settle against him again, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his chest. The firelight dances across the room, casting shadows on the walls, and you feel a profound sense of peace, of rightness, in this moment.

“Hey,” you say softly after a while, looking up at him. “I love you.”

His expression softens, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you too.”

You smile, your hand drifting down to rest over his. “And for the record, I can’t wait for all of it. The wedding, the house, the future… everything. As long as it’s with you.”

Tony’s grin is slow and warm, and he wraps his arms around you like he never plans to let go. “Then it’s a deal.”

The two of you sit there for a long time after that, the snow falling steadily outside and the fire burning low. Together, you dream and plan and tease and laugh, painting the picture of a life that feels almost too perfect to be real. But with Tony by your side, you know it’s all possible—and more.

[ichorai]

the scientist & the assassin ; natasha romanoff.

read part two ; afterlife.

pairing ; natasha romanoff x gn!scientist!reader

synopsis ; fragments of time with your girlfriend, soon-to-be-wife, natasha.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, established relationship, scientist au

warnings / includes ; a bit of cursing, blood/injury, set before civil war era, avengers found family trope idec, sexual innuendos, bucky and sam annoying reader lol, steve being an absolute sweetheart, mentions of fire, liho cameo, mentions of yelena

main masterlist.

JANUARY.

Small sparks flew up from the welding torch as you worked the blue flame over the metal, eyes narrowed with concentration. It was a delicate process, and you were taking extra caution not to mess the process up. You were building new protective gear on Nick Fury’s request, and had to make sure that it was without fault. 

Your girlfriend of three years, however, clearly had other plans. Natasha was leaning against your workbench, brows quirked as she repeated the question that had flown right over your head in the midst of your fixation.

You hastily turned the fire off and shoved the protective welding mask away from your face so you could properly look at her. “Huh? Did you say something?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, though not without a ghost of a grin to her lips. With a sigh, she asked the question for a third time. “I know you’re busy making all your little gizmos and gadgets… but are you coming to Tony’s party?”

A beat of silence. You blinked in confusion. It was only then did you realize that your girlfriend was all dressed up, face dolled up with flawless makeup, donned in a silken, viridescent dress that complimented her figure beautifully. “What party?”

“The annual New Years’ party—Tony’s asked you to come a million times. You’re not gonna leave me all alone with him, are you?” Natasha asked, walking closer to you until her nose was only an inch from yours, placing her hands on the lapels of your lab coat, tugging you closer.

A gulp lodged in your throat. “No, ma’am,” you murmured, lips dipping forward to catch hers. 

She leaned back before you could, however, tilting her head expectedly. There was a playful glint to the deep green of her irises. “Go get ready, then. I already laid out a matching outfit for you to save you the hassle. Who knows… maybe we can leave a bit early too…”

Before she could finish her sentence, you were already shirking off your white coat, hurrying out of the laboratory to get changed for the party. Natasha couldn’t help the amused smile gracing the corner of her lips as she watched you scramble away.

FEBRUARY.

Blood dripped from her cheek. Her hair, her dress, her legs. She was drenched in it.

A shuddering sigh of exhaust fell from her split lips. She gingerly slipped out of her heels, holding the two of them in one hand and walking up to the house barefoot.

“Nat,” you whispered in part-horror, part-concern at her bloodied state when you swung the door open.

“It’s not mine,” she hoarsely mumbled, slipping past you, bee-lining towards the bathroom, in dire need of some cleaning.

Her eyes were heavy with fatigue, plagued with memories of the bloodbath of a mission. There were many questions you wanted to ask her, but you held your tongue. She was in no state to answer your barrage of queries, and needed nothing more than someone to care for her, for a change.

Gently, you took her crimson-slickened hands within yours, uncaring of the blood smearing on your skin. You led her to the rest of the way to the bathroom, gently telling her to take a seat on the edge of the bathtub. A small towel cloth was dampened beneath the faucet, and you slowly cleaned off the delicate wounds littered over her arms, her face, and her abdomen. The two of you were completely silent, basking in the comfort of being there for each other. Natasha’s green eyes shone with simultaneous gratitude and hollow trauma. For a moment, it appeared as if she was going to weep, but she kept the tears at bay.

Once you cleaned off most of the blood, you left the bathroom to fetch her some of her sleep clothes—which was really just a worn, sleeveless shirt of some obscure rock band you didn’t recognize, and a soft pair of basketball shorts. She had wiped away the rest of the blood when you came back, stripping her outer layers and shirking them into the sink to wash later.

For now, the both of you just needed to sleep.

She slipped on the pajamas, before settling into the bed with a lethargic sigh.

“Thank you,” she croaked out just as you clambered beneath the blankets on the other side of the large bed.

You hummed in response, roping her close to you, pressing a soft kiss to her hairline. This time, Natasha had to willfully force the urge to cry away.

“Get some rest, Nat. I love you,” you said into her skin.

Natasha relaxed into your hold, eyes drooping shut. She wanted to say that she loved you back, but found that she was already falling into a deep slumber.

MARCH.

“What about Jennifer? She’s in the analytics department,” said Natasha, sipping on her iced tea as she eyed Steve expectantly. “I can set you up with her if you want.”

The blonde man shifted uncomfortably. “I… I don’t know, Nat—”

“For God’s sake, Nat, stop it already!” you exclaimed, but not without an exasperated smile to your lips. “Look at him, you’re embarrassing the poor guy. Sorry, Steve—she’s just looking out for you.”

The hundred-year-old man smiled handsomely, forking some scrambled eggs into his mouth. “It’s fine. I’m not really looking to date at the moment… still trying to figure out how things work this century before I can really settle down.”

“Well, you take your time, Steve,” you told him gently.

“You sure? Rumor has it Allison from human resources has had her eye on you for a while—ow! I was joking!” she exclaimed when you sharply elbowed her in the ribs. “But, really, Cap… I’m happy you’re taking your time.”

The blonde hummed gratefully. “What about you two? Any plans on…” He gestured vaguely, which made you and Natasha glance at each other with a grin.

Your girlfriend scoffed, the green of her eyes glimmering with mirth. “Why? You wanna be the best man?”

Steve seemed to splutter at that, vehemently trying to backtrack. Heat flushed his cheeks a soft pink hue.

“I’m just pulling your leg, Steve,” Natasha quipped, playfully kicking at his foot beneath the table. “Lighten up, will you?”

“We haven’t even spoken about marriage yet,” you chimed in, smiling warmly at the ex-assassin. “But who knows? Maybe we will soon.”

APRIL.

Nails tapped loudly against the surface of the table she was sitting on, legs crossed as she languidly leaned back, staring up at the artificial white lights of the laboratory. She was saying something—something about her last mission with Tony. 

Judging by her expression you quickly stole a glance at, you could tell that she was complaining. There was a slight knit to her brow, and she was frowning ever so slightly.

You made quiet, absentminded noises of acknowledgement as she told her story, nodding emphatically. You were working on a device to immediately disable strong magnetic fields, tinkering with the small bits and pieces with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t know, maybe I should just stop worrying about him—it’s not my problem if Tony drinks until he can barely stand up…”

She trailed off, tilting her head back down to watch you work. With an amused scoff, she said your name. Without taking your eyes off your work, you merely hummed, “Mhm?”

“You haven’t listened to a single word I’ve said, have you?”

Hopping down from the table, she made her way closer to you, her fingers nimbly slotting beneath your chin. You met her gaze, briefly glancing down at her parted lips, skin flushing with embarrassment. 

Sheepish, you grinned apologetically. “Sorry, Nat.” She arched a sharp brow and you winced. “I love you…?”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha acquiesced, a ghost of a grin tracing the corner of her lips. “I love you, too.” She let you go to haul herself back up onto the table, swinging her legs in an almost child-like manner. “Anyways, as I was saying…”

MAY.

Sunglasses, glasses of chilled orange juice, and warm sand beneath your feet.

Closer to the beach’s shallow waves, Bruce, Steve, and Clint were playing with a frisbee, while Tony and Thor were off on a ski-boat, skimming across the waters much faster than they probably should be going. The team was on a little mini-vacation, needing some well-deserved rest after going on nonstop, continuous missions.

A book was cracked open on your lap, one that you had been meaning to start for ages now, but never had the time before. Beside you was your girlfriend, lathering sunscreen over her arms and exposed skin. “Did you put on sunscreen?” she asked you, offering the bottle.

“Yeah,” you replied, prying your eyes away from the novel to press a kiss to her cheek, and then another to the side of her nose. 

She grinned beautifully, the green of her eyes gleaming with fondness. “You’re such a nerd. Who brings a book to the beach?”

“Well… look who’s dating the nerd who brought a book to the beach?” you replied with a level tone, trying your best to suppress your growing smile.

Huffing in amusement, Natasha lightly shoved you, taking another sip of her orange juice. “God, it just feels like we never get to fully relax like this, you know? I wish every day could be like this.”

Shutting your book, you placed it off to the side and shuffled closer to her, curling an arm over her shoulders. 

“Yeah,” you hummed, tracing aimless shapes along the skin of her arm. Hesitant, you spoke up again, “Hey, you remember when Steve asked us about getting married?”

“Mhm?”

“Well, uhm…” you started, but thought better of it, not wanting to ruin such a perfect moment as this one by forcing your girlfriend into a commitment you weren’t even sure she really wanted.

When you trailed off, Natasha pulled away from you slightly, her head cocked in an expectant manner.

“If you’re not gonna ask me, then I will,” she told you with a laugh to her voice. “You wanna get married?”

For a moment, you spluttered for words, not expecting this turn of events. 

“You… Nat, are you sure?” you rasped, cupping her face gently. “I don’t want you to rush into anything. Yes, a thousand times yes, but fair warning—it means you’ll be stuck with me forever. Forever is like… a really long time.”

Natasha hummed, leaning forward until your nose brushed against hers. Gods, you loved this woman so fucking much. 

“Sounds like a nightmare,” she whispered, a ghost of a smile to her lips. “Sign me up.”

With that, she kissed you, tasting of orange juice and a tiny bit of sunscreen.

JUNE.

Sam and Bucky hovered around your lab like a pair of incessant flies that wouldn’t go away, no matter how much you swatted at them. 

“Don’t touch that, Bucky,” you found yourself saying nearly twenty times, followed by an exasperated sigh as he would proceed to prod and poke at the machinery. 

Sam was no better, asking you about a million questions in regard to all the different gadgets and gizmos in progress.

On a normal day, you usually wouldn’t let these two into your lab, but you were ordered to fix and improve both of their broken comm links, and made the terrible mistake of inviting them to come watch. Of course, they grew bored of watching you toy with wires and circuits, opting to wander around your lab with wide, curious eyes.

“Hey, what’s this?” Sam asked, holding up a small, black cube half the size of his palm.

“Collapsible motorcycle,” you replied, briefly glancing at him, before returning your gaze to your work on the table. “Just don’t press the button on the bottom.”

Whistling with clear impression, Sam looked nearly tempted to try it out. But he knew you would slice his hand off if he did, so he set the cube back down. “That’s sick, man. Who’s it for?”

“Nat,” you said. “Made it for her. It’s still in its testing phase—I’m hoping it'll be all done and ready by her birthday.” 

Bucky glanced over Sam’s shoulder to look at the cube. “I like riding motorbikes,” he said. “Could you make me one?”

“Unless you could get Fury to order me, that’s a no,” you huffed out with a mild laugh. “I barely agreed to fix your comms for you—which, by the way, how did you even break them this bad? Did you guys pour a bucket of water over and stomp on them, or something?” 

At the memory of Bucky and Sam both accidentally tumbling into a river during a mission, they both grimaced.

“Something like that, sure,” said the century-old man, wearily pulling at his face.

“That’s not fair,” Sam, a full grown man, just about whined. You halted in your ministrations, raising a brow. “How come you don’t make us any fancy little tools or weapons or bikes or magical gizmos, but you make ‘em for Nat?”

Scoffing, you dipped your head back down to continue polishing off their comms. “Yeah, well, she’s my fiance.”

“And?” said Sam, placing his hands on his hips. “Am I not your best friend? Is Mr. Cyborg here not your second best friend?” 

Another deeply amused laugh rumbled from within your chest. “With how you two are behaving, I’d say Steve is my best friend right now.”

The two were left sulking in your lab for the next hour, with Bucky nearly catching on fire when he picked up a flamethrower disguised as a potted plant. Both of them left with charred fingers, singed eyebrows, and about half a dozen of your tiny gadgets stuffed within their pockets.

JULY.

It was Steve’s birthday, which meant Natasha organized a barbecue in Clint’s large backyard. There were red, white, and blue streamers hung up over the trees and over the house’s porch, several star-shaped lanterns decorating the wooden tables set out. Bruce and Tony were manning the grills, while you were playing a game of catch with Peter and Clint’s kids. The rest of the Avengers were gathered by one of the tables, piling up their plates high with food.

The air was heavy with the mouth-watering aroma of cooking hot dogs, grilled corn, and juicy burgers. Dessert was an assortment of cookies, an array of melting popsicles, and a large blue birthday cake that made Steve smile so wide it was yet to leave his face.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Natasha speaking to Thor, her hand extended out to him as the God inspected the ring on her finger.

“A grand ring, that is!” the Norse God bellowed. “Green suits you, Natasha.”

“Thanks, Thor,” said your fiance, grinning warmly. The two walked off to grab some hotdog buns and harass Tony to hurry up with cooking.

The ball nearly hit you in the face because you were so busy staring at Natasha, stopping inches from your nose when Peter darted forward with his near inhumane reaction time to grab it away. 

“Woah!” he exclaimed, afraid to have accidentally hurt you by hurling a fast ball at you when you weren’t even paying attention. “Sorry, are you okay? What are you looking at?” 

You pursed your lips, glancing one last time at Natasha. A blush creeped up your neck. She was going to marry you soon. How on earth did you get so lucky?

“Nothing, kid. Come on, hand me the ball, why’d you stop?” you cleared your throat in a fruitless attempt to play it off.

Peter followed your line of sight, brows raising when he caught sight of Natasha now showing off her ring to Steve and Bucky. He smiled slightly, but didn’t say anything about it, instead tossing the ball right back to you (which you still somehow missed catching).

AUGUST.

“Here,” you said, handing her the steaming mug of coffee, just how she liked it—dark with a tiny bit of sugar. “You okay? You’ve been more quiet than usual the past few days.”

The two of you leaned against the balcony’s railing, watching the sun rise over the cityscape, painting the sky a myriad of soft oranges and clementines and tangerines. With your free hand, the other being occupied by your own hot cup of tea, you wrapped around Natasha’s waist, tugging her close. You pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, brushing an errant strand of hair falling away from her loose braid.

“Sorry, I’ve just recently been thinking,” she whispered, a bit distant. “My sister is out there, somewhere. Sometimes I think it’s best to just give her her space, since she hasn’t reached out, either. Maybe she doesn’t want to see me ever again—after all, I’m a living, breathing reminder of the Red Room. The terrible things we were forced to do. I’m not too upset about it… it’s not like we were a real family, anyway. I don’t know. I guess I just miss her.”

You weren’t entirely sure what to tell her. Go find her sister? Forget about her? Tell her to think about it some more? Natasha rarely ever spoke about her past, much less her temporary ‘fake’ family.

A frown crossed over your lips, brows divoting. “Nat, if your sister really wanted to see you, she would reach out. You’re an Avenger—it’s not that hard to find you. You can’t really say the same about her… you don’t know a single thing about where she might be now. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Natasha sipped on her coffee, blowing out a tired sigh. Tears warbled over her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, sniffing slightly.

“Do you think she remembers me?” her voice broke just a bit. “Because sometimes I forget what her face looks like. Did she have blue eyes, or were they green like mine? How blonde was her hair? What did her smile look like? I… I’m scared I’ll just completely forget and I won’t ever see her again to—”

“She remembers,” you murmured in response. “You were her sister. She’d remember.”

Another sniffle. Natasha wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand. 

“God, sorry. I’m such a mess,” she croaked, laughing bitterly.

“And I love you anyway,” you told her, kissing her just below her watery eyes. “Come on—let’s go watch some TV.”

SEPTEMBER.

The wedding was a small, quiet event. 

You, Natasha, and the rest of the Avengers family were once again gathered in Clint’s expansive yard—though, this time, everybody was dressed much more formally than they had on Steve’s birthday. The ceremony was full of tears and sniffling, tissues and running mascara. 

The vows you had written for Nat were long and nearly ramble-y, whilst hers were perfectly short and to-the-point.

Once Bruce had officiated the two of you (having learned how to do so online), you had embraced each other with a watery kiss, grinning against one anothers’ lips. The rest of the group had burst into raucous applause, Tony and Steve the loudest of them all, the two of them being the best men of the wedding.

Then came the food and the dancing, which lasted well into the night.

She was glowing the entire time. Your wife was glowing.

And when you told her so, she smiled, all wide and toothy. “It’s just nervous sweat,” she replied with a laugh as you gripped her waist tighter, before twirling her around in your arms.

“God, I love you,” you murmured, pressing your forehead against hers. 

The green of her eyes sparkled with your words. “I love you, too. I can’t believe we’re married now.”

“Take your time,” you hummed. “You’ve got the rest of your life to get used to it.”

OCTOBER.

Your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, tongue poking out the corner of your mouth. The table was a mess, covered in orange mush, a dozen knives, and your phone playing a video on how to properly carve a pumpkin.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath when you messed up the shape, letting out a long, drawn-out groan. “Why is this so hard? It’s just a pumpkin!”

When you glanced at Natasha and her fruit, you weren’t at all surprised to see that she was well into carving an intricate, detailed design with wide eye-holes and gnarled teeth.

“It’s not that hard,” she replied with an easy smile, clearly amused at your struggling. “What’s going on with you? You’re usually really good with your hands.”

Heat flushed up your neck and spidered across the skin of your cheeks at the hidden insinuation behind her words. “I don’t know,” you huffed, wiping down your hands on the apron you were wearing. Usually you weren’t one to give up so easily, but you had been tinkering with several new task-droids, and there was no better time than now to test them out.

“What are you doing?” she curiously asked once you slid off your seat, reaching into one of the cabinets to pull out the little cuboid robots. “God, it feels like I’m in a Black Mirror episode,” she murmured, watching them come to life and start carving up your pumpkin for you with tiny microblades after you input a design for them to work on.

“San Junipero Black Mirror or Metalhead Black Mirror?” you replied, propping your face up on an elbow as you watched the small bots diligently work. 

Your wife scowled, her sharp brows divoting. “Definitely Metalhead.”

The both of you shuddered, before you dipped forward to press a kiss to her cheek. “I’m gonna make us a batch of cookies—at least that I know I can’t mess up.”

NOVEMBER.

A wince, a frown, an uncomfortable shift. Natasha was used to pain, and was taught from a young age to steel herself, but the wounds usually never got this bad.

There was a deep slash across her stomach, dark blood dousing the entirety of her abdomen, dripping down her sides and leaking off the lab table you had set her on. You tried to be gentle while you cleaned her up, tried to be quick with the stitches to lessen the pain—but the wound was tender and wide, and you had to slow down to be careful.

The entire time, your face bore an expression of pure worry and concern.

“I’m sorry,” she hoarsely whispered, lips twisted into a grimace.

“For what?” you quietly mumbled, focused on fixing her up.

She blew out a pained sigh as you started another stitch. “For making you worry. I shouldn’t have gone on that mission, I know.”

“Well, you did,” you lightly replied, teeth gnashing together. “No reason to dwell on it. It’s okay, Nat. I’m not mad at you.”

There was a beat of silence. She laid back, fists clenched by her sides as she endured through the pain.

“Just disappointed?” she asked, gingerly laughing, despite the pain it brought to her chest.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I am. I just don’t like seeing you pointlessly throwing yourself headfirst into a suicidal mission, just to come crawling back in shreds. I also don’t like seeing you hurt because I love you, and I need you to be more careful for me.”

Natasha pursed her lips. Her green eyes flashed with pain when you wiped away the excess blood. “Okay,” your wife croaked. “I love you, too.”

DECEMBER.

“Open it!” you goaded, nudging Natasha to the suspiciously unwrapped box. 

Her green eyes were narrowed as she shot you a warning look. “I swear to God, if a fake snake is gonna come flying out like last time—”

“It’s your birthday, I would never!” you interrupted impatiently, gesturing to the box once more.

With a huff, Natasha peeled back the loose lids of the cardboard box, making a noise of surprise upon seeing a little black cat curled up inside, snoozing contentedly. 

“Oh, my God. You got us a little kitty,” she crooned, slowly picking the cat up. The black-pelted feline purred at the contact, nuzzling her dark nose against Natasha’s face. “This is literally the best thing you’ve ever gotten me. It beats anything you’ve ever made for me!”

Clearing your throat, you toyed with the collapsible motorcycle you had hidden in your pocket. “Well… don’t say that too quickly. You wanna name her?”

Natasha stroked the cat’s dark head, her hazel eyes happily blinking shut. “Liho. It means misfortune in Russian—black cats are bad luck, right? She’ll have to prove her name wrong.”

“Liho,” you parroted, smiling so wide it was a wonder your face didn’t split into two. 

With a grin, Natasha placed Liho back down on the ground, who took to weaving between both of your legs, her fluffy tail curved around your shins. 

“God, I love you,” your wife suddenly announced, cupping your face between her palms and littering several chaste kisses all over your cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“You’re gonna love me more after this,” you told her, brandishing the small black cuboid from your pocket. “Come on—I’m gonna have to show you this outside. Let’s go, Liho.”

The three of you made your way out of the house, Liho silently following along like a shadow. You beamed brightly at the small cat, then at your wife, who was squinting against the sharp sunlight, smiling nonetheless. It was all so perfect, nearly too good to be true.

Until the collapsible motorcycle burst into flames while you were trying to uncollapse it, which had Natasha yanking the curious Liho away from the growing fire as you ran into the house to grab the extinguisher.

Alright—maybe not entirely perfect… but amazing nonetheless. 

“Happy birthday?” you sheepishly said as you doused the flames away. “That was, uh… that was supposed to do that.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, setting Liho back down before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You can clean that up later. Let’s go cut the cake—maybe we can skip on blowing out the candles this year.”

As the three of you made your way back inside the house, Natasha glanced down at the little black cat trotting in front of you. “She’s living up to her name so far. God, I can’t believe you got me a cursed cat for my birthday.”

[amourcherie606]

Izuku Midoriya!! AU where All Might tells Izuku to build gadgets and tools that can assist All Might and preserve his strength, so Izuku joins the support course and later along the way realizes that even w/o a quirk, he too can be a hero.

TDLR: Quirkless, Support course! Izuku finds the drive to still be a hero on his own.

Izuku basically lives in the basement of UA? /hj he works on gear for All Might and Class 1-A ♥ + mha rant under the cut

I have, admittedly, a lot written down for this LMAOOO. mha has always frustrated me because of the potential it has and the messages it sends. I am a firm believer that Izuku should have stayed quirkless and strive to be a hero still, the message it sends by giving Izuku a quirk instead of letting him still strive to be a hero-just sucks and doesnt make sense! Its sending the message that you need a quirk to be a hero, when throughout the series Izuku has proven that he has the brains and capabilities to be a hero without even using his quirk. Also the series has shown perfect examples as to why the society in mha is corrupt yet it does nothing to challenge or combat it, only accepting it-LIKE IT GETS WORSE AFTER THE TIMESKIP TOO??

I love mha tho like the pookies and concepts it has are very swag.

[waokevale]

Soo when you say wilson is of shadow origin and has always been weird, is there any sort of reason? Like was he born like that just because of Their natural influence that was happening even before the codex? Or was it more as in his power started as a child ( since thats when the whole codex thing happened) and he just got cursed by it? Or a mix of the two with the merge of the constant and the real world simply accelerating/ boosting the corruption he already had?

( also i'd love to know everyone power on a 1-10 scale like you did for charlie and maxwell 👉👈 )

Love your AU btw!

Well...Let's say he was always 'special', since his parents got involved with a very peculiar group before he was born, but the release of the constant's magic did in fact trigger those powers to expand. So you got that right.

And hmm, I guess I could give away a couple of those power comparisons, but I should also take in consideration their combat abilities, since one's isn't power isn't all that there is.

Wendy & Abigail – 3/10 (In combat it's usually Abigail in charge of the body since she's more skilled, while Wendy bullies the opponents shadow basically )

Webber - 4/10 (His Venom helps although he rarely uses it since he's scared of killing ppl)

Wurt (when she's in a body of water) 4/10, otherwise 3.5/10

Walter – 3/10 (if he knew about his abilities more, that would've been at least a 6.5)

Warly – 4.5/10 (3/10 otherwise) While his abilities don't help with combat, he focused on his agility and weapon throwing.

Wes – 4.5/10 He had to get better at combat, since Maxwell keeps sending him on missions, Max claims he could've easily been a 6/10 if he tried harder.

Winona – 5/10 her gadgets and combat ability make up for her power.

Wickerbottom – 5/10 (if she used her spells more often, would've been about a 7)

Maxwell – 5.5/10 (has more limitations set than Charlie)

Charlie – 6/10

Wigfrid – 6/10

Wolfgang – 6.5/10 (has at least 15 years of military training on him + his power certainly enhances those abilities)

Woodie – 6.5/10 since he's more in control of his various forms and their quirks

WX-78 – 6.5/10 when equipped with Winona's upgrades, without them, 4.5/10

Wortox – 6.5/10 (though he rarely engages in combat, his teleportation and life draining ability certainly helps. if he did, he would've probably been a 7 at least)

Willow – 7.5/10 though she's normally restrained into using only some of her abilities so 4.5/10

Wormwood – 7.5 4/10

Wilson – normally a 2/10 has little combat skill and is one of the newest hires. (In a monster form, which he can't control he's around 8/10)

Wanda – if she wasn't constantly supervised she would've easily been a 10/10, shes limited to being about a 6.5/10

[awesome-normal-heroes]

ZADF Headcanons in the Irken Dib AU:

*Zim is basically the same as in canon.

*But Irken Dib is quite different from Canon Dib; since supernatural stuff doesn't exist on Irk, Irken Dib focused on the path of alien science and didn't become an outcast like Canon Dib did.

*Professor Membrane is the Irken Tallest Blue.

*Gaz is the Massive's Main Pilot and she's well respect by Tallest Blue.

*Dib and Gaz used to be training partners together, before Dib and Zim meet.

*Dib became a successful scientist that Tallest Blue respected, but despite this Dib was very bored with his life.

*Then Dib met Zim and sees how chaotic/interesting/fun Zim is.

*Zim's quirks amuse Irken Dib and make Dib feel alive.

*Although Dib does get annoyed with Zim sometimes, when Zim goes too far...

*The Tallest (especially Tallest Blue) are shocked and disappointed that Dib is wasting his genius potential on such a small and insanely defective irken.

*The giant robot Zim used to ruin the first invasion plan was Dib's creation that Dib gave to Zim as a gift, so they were both banished to Foodcourtia.

*Zim and Dib escape the planet then Dib tries to convince Zim that they should fly away to a different world to live on, but Zim insists to return to Irk.

*The duo get the fake mission (with Dib knowing it's fake from the start, but not saying anything cause it's better then being executed) and when they get Gir, Dib somewhat fixes Gir, so the robot would be more competent (but still childish sometimes)...

*When they arrive on Earth, Dib is frustrated at how lazy Zim's human disguise is and still can't believe that most humans fall for it...

*When they meet a genius kid named Louie, Louie is one of the few that sees through Zim's disguise...

*Louie's parents are older sibling are all brilliant scientists and they're all too busy to be with Louie; they also think that Louie's dream is silly (Louie dreams of being a gadget-filled superhero like Batman or Ironman).

*Louie is calmer and humbler then Canon Dib, so he doesn't shout that Zim is an alien to the whole class and the class doesn't think Louie is crazy.

*But Louie does follow the aliens to their house.

*Zim hates Louie, but also sees him as a worthy foe (similar to how he feels for Canon Dib).

*Dib respects Louie a bit more then Zim, but he's still willing to destroy Louie if necessary.

*Dib LOVES the supernatural stuff on Earth; Irken Dib has a fondness for weird, strange and unusual things.

*Skoodge likes both of them.

*Tak hates Zim, but surprisingly respects Dib.

*Sizz Lorr hates both of them, but hates Zim much more.

[epickiya722]

I gotta point out that Uraraka being a patriarchycore "nice girl" isn't the only reason she needed to be the endgame, but more so bc those men see her as a completely blank slate (i.e "what was the point of her existing if they didn't marry") with a sprinkle of resonable assumption (as in, her crush leading to said endgame.)

That is why a bunch of them flocked to Hatsume after, bc she's hot, has less screen time and 0 development with the protagonist besides a boob gag, so she can be more easily put in the position of a sexy trophy.

It sucks so bad how some of the fandom will look at these characters and only see them worth being some wife and only just that.

With Urakaka, it's like nothing else mattered except that she was the leading lady of the cast, had screentime with Izuku, some crush and nice and that's it. Especially, with her role since it's "typical" that the lead girls have to be with the main boy even though, mind you, other (shonen) mangas didn't go that route before.

Horikoshi didn't go that route with his previous works!

With Hatsume, yeah, she seemed to be the "next best option" given the reasons you stated. Again, it sucks because like Uraraka, Hatsume does have other traits. Her genius literally provided great aid during the Final War arc. Heck, her just being in the Support Course and being a gadget genius, did allow for some characters develop with their Quirks, not just Midoriya.

But, no, can't look at her past the boobs and potential hot wifey material, right?

I also think the AU of Midoriya being in the Support Course and being friends with Hatsume maybe play a part as to why some of the fandom flocked to making her Midoriya's "next potential wife candidate".

After her, Melissa probably gets this treatment, too. (I just remembered she would be 18 by the time we get to the Final War arc.)

[somewhere-in-a-microwave]

Random ideas for my MHA AU

These are just ideas that I feel like the series could have explored.

What about the quirkless? - It's said that there is a minority of 20% of quirkless people in the population. But it's never truly explored. I sometimes think of this idea of a THRIVING civilization of people with no quirks, that's just sitting there ignored by people AND NOT EVEN ON THE MAP!

This civilization would be not as advanced as other places (cuz they kinda got kicked out from society and labelled as "misfts") but evolved in other ways. They heavily rely on what they're capable of, surroundings, objects and most importantly... cool gadgets and inventions cuz why not!

I'll probably think of something for where it would go in my MHA story but for now, it remains a very interesting concept to me

[mlp410nightcore]

Hi Everyone!! Here are some more brand new next gens for my Blossom Love AU. Shard and Amber Wave's parents are Undyne and Dr.Alphys. Shard is very much like his mother, Undyne, in so many ways, but he does have his own quirks as well. Shard is super protective of his family and will do anything to make sure they stay safe. He can also be somewhat pushy and loud, but he has a big heart and is quite a gentleman and softie once you get to know him. He's also very skilled in physical combat and can take anyone down in just a few moves. Amber Wave is super intelligent and loves building gadgets all the time. She's also very sweet and can be very shy as she doesn't like be in the center of attention. Sadly, Amber Wave lost one of her legs in an unforeseen attack, luckily, her brother and mothers were able to save her before she was injured any further. Credit goes to Selenaede for the bases I used and to Toby Fox for creating Undertale as well as creating the characters, Undyne and Dr.Alphys as well. I only take credit for my next gens, art, ships, stories and the Blossom Love AU. I hope you guys like them!!!

[deusvervewrites]

Aldera Uraraka AU x Problem Children AU x All For Support AU x Gadgets And Quirks AU:

All Might: So Melissa, how did it go? Did your investigation lead to any significant findings?

*Melissa thinks about she and Izuku had to fight Yakuza, martial arts students, and for some reason, culinary students to protect 1-A.*

Melissa: You could say that.

lmao

[nyc3]

Your ask really inspired me to think on a different au. A parallel and relationship between Izu (boy or girl. I tend go with girl bc I love Fem Izu) and Toya.

Let me explain the idea.

Toya IS from a big rich family, has money and fame. Lots of fame. Ofc his dream to be a hero stems in being daddy's good boy/throphy and nothing else. He is a kid and is selfish.

His father is the #2 of all Japan and that IS a big deal. Endy is not happy bc he wants the #1 even if he has all the perks AM has (or more as AM doesn't have a family)

Then enters Izu. He is the son/daughter (will go as daughter) of the disgraced hero Inko. Maybe Inko committed a mistake and let a big villain escape or the hero work wasn't kind to her....either way, she retired earlier and has Izuchan. Izuchan wants to be a hero to clean her mother's name.

People never forget Inko's mistake. Not for a moment...and that took a toll on her. Izuchan wants to be a hero and fix it...so her mother can be in peace. Its selfless.

And well comes the clashing.

Toya has fame and money and while he can play the game...he also is tired if this life. His father wasn't pleased with Toya. Sure, thanks to gadgets he can use his fire...but Endy wants more....and thus Borns Shoto and now Shoto is Endy's pet project.

Toya gets disillusioned by the hero industry.

Then he sees Izuchan who...is genuine in her passion.

People wouldn't care for a nobody...but Toya does.

A genuine hero is what he was searching for.

On her end, Izumi got the attention of one of the most richest and famous heroes of all Japan. What she will do? Can she still be a hero?

(she has a quirk here, maybe a low level telekinesis. Yes. I'm giving her a quirk bc it makes sense...I don't think quirkless should be heroes at the same breath I do see how quirks don't make you invencible)

Its a contrast of ideas.

Izu wants to clean her mother's name

Toya wants to stain his father's name.

FUCK THIS IS MUCH BETTER. I love my mind sometimes.

(this does give me a vibe of Gojohime and I do like the ship)

In AUs where Midoriya has a quirk since born I like it be an average/decent form of pyrokinesis like he could probably have based on the quirks of his parents.

I guess Midoriya in this case would he on pair with Burnin in terms of overall performance, with the only difference he would spit the flames from the mouth first and being able to bend them once they're outside. It looks cool in my head at least.

...

Since you're playing with the Gojo syndrome dynamic, how Shoto should be in this AU aside of being the dreamed offspring of Enji?

Because I'm kinda tired of the same vanilla personality for Shoto where he's just a clueless dummy because of no social interactions covered by an emo mask.

Rather than that I like to imagine a version of Shoto in which he got a god complex like Gojo, because technically his quirk is divine and all the power and fame carried by Endeavor's name (and also being part of the Himura clan) makes Shoto develop this mentallity of being the superior to everyone else. Perhaps at some point he would came to the conclusion he's way superior to his dad and doesn't need take advices from "just the number 2" anymore.

And to me it's fun to think on Shoto as the villain for Dabi and Midoriya, but rather than be a edgelord like canon Dabi, villain Shoto probably would copy the style and mannerisms of A.M as a way to mock both Enji and Midoriya because of their admiration/jaleosity for the guy.

[officials-isabella]

~ Adventures in obey me ~

~ Adventures in obey me ~ ~ chapter 1 ~

This is chapter one

Of

Adventures in obey me

Replace brother au

Replace mc au

Obeyme x Demon slayer x My hero academia x Diabolik lovers

⚠️ Warning cringe

_________________________________________

Barbatos walk into diavolo office

" My lord Lucifer sent the paper you requested " said Barbatos.

" For the two news exchange students " said Diavolo .

" Yes " said Barbatos .

Barbatos put files on diavolo desk .

Diavolo open both files .

Name : R/n

Birthday: 5/18/???

Age : ???

Species : Humans?

Power : ???

Mother : Cho

Father : Tom

Sister: none

Brother: one

Info : nothing

Personality : unknown

Name: Isabella Todoroki

Birthday : 1/9

Age : 15

Species : human

Quirks : Decay, Cremation , Ice , Rewind

Mother: Tomura Shigaraki/ Tenko Shimura

Father: Dabi / Touya Todoroki

Sister: Sophie todoroki

Brother : Miguel todoroki

Info : Miguel todoroki is Isabella twin

Personality : cold to unknown people

" I never noticed that " said Diavolo.

"

Notice what " said Barbatos .

" It said quirks on every other human file except Solomon and this r/n " said Diavolo .

" Should I get mc " said Barbatos .

" Yes " said Diavolo .

Barbatos went to get mc.

He comes back with mc .

" Yes lord diavolo " said mc.

" I have a question " said Diavolo.

" What is it " said mc.

" Why does it say quirks on every human file except Solomon " said Diavolo .

" Well Solomon is wizard in in the human world people have power we call quirks " said Mc.

" The quirks depend on your genetic " said Mc .

After Mc explain quirks to diavolo .

" What is your quirk " said Diavolo.

" I have a mutation quirk that makes me look like a sheep " said Mc

" Oh a cute sheep by the way " said Diavolo .

" Aw thanks diavolo " said Mc.

" What about one with no quirk " said Diavolo .

" Oh there very little of quirkless people " said Mc.

" I thought about add two people for you and solomon " said Diavolo .

" Can I see please " said Mc .

" Yeah " said Diavolo .

Mc look at the files.

" Well Lucifer might made a bad decision " said Mc .

" What you mean " said Diavolo.

" Um Isabella her parents are villains " said Mc.

" Well you can't just judge her because of her parents " said Diavolo.

" True " said Mc.

" Well she has four quirks " said Diavolo.

' Well if it true that Dabi is Touya Todoroki then she likes her uncle shoto " said Mc.

" Huh " said Diavolo.

" He a future hero and he has two quirks " said Mc.

" Oh so where you become a hero " said Diavolo

" Well where I live it called ua " said Mc.

" There Hero schools in bunch of countries we have two in Musutafu " said Mc.

" So your from Musutafu " said Diavolo

" Mhm " said Mc

" Cool " said Diavolo

" I'm in ua but gen class " said Mc

" What that for " said Diavolo.

" It where we make gadgets for heroes " said Mc.

" Oh " said Diavolo .

" Yeah I have a friend named Shinso though he was move to 1b " said Mc .

" oh ok " said Diavolo.

" Barbato go get the brothers " said Diavolo.

" Yes sir " said Barbato .

- The ends -

This is chapter 1 .

I hope you guys like it .

Yes the fact that mc look a sheep will be her quirk .

Aslo if I show to use pictures for my oc .

They will either black or white hair if not will have only have blue eyes .

I will most use the pictures for the outfit because why not

For mc i use use pink hair again mostly for the outfit.

oh so you will see why I added replaced brother au soon.

Info my oc will be the one to replace the brothers .

As all for one train her to match her personality to her worker or partner or friends so she basically will be perfect for mc to replace the brothers with.

Info nana shimura and Lilith were best friends in the human world when they were alive.

You guys will see how Demon slayer and Diabolik lovers has connection with this soon.

I hope you guys like and see you next time .

[purgatoryandme]

As silly as I find the big ol’ war arc of BNHA, it has such tasty potential for Quirkless Izuku AUs. “That wouldn’t be tasty at all!” You say, “Izuku would be a regular guy in the middle of an apocalyptic battle where he’d genuinely be outclassed in every way.”  EXACTLY. THAT’S THE SPICE.  Quirkless Izuku being rejected from UA, making it into some second-rate hero school, just desperately struggling to get by when UA is splashed all over the news. USJ attacked, hero students kidnapped, a hero student MURDERED on their internship...and the school is liable.  All hero schools are liable for their kids, in one way or another.  And this second-rate school took a risk on Izuku. They don’t think he’ll go anywhere, but were happy to take his money. Now that he could DIE, though? Nu-uh. Blocked from internships, coddled and kept safe - Izuku would absolutely be losing his mind with the reckless need to prove himself.  And hey! He makes progress! Builds gadgets, uses his head - all the classic Quirkless Izuku traits. He’s even garnered some rather unfortunate villain attention, but it’s gotten him into the news and now there’s kids looking up to him and FINALLY he feels like maybe he can be a symbol of something GOOD.  But wow, Izuku absolutely cannot win out here, because now there’s ridiculously OP villains and the Quirk singularity is blowing anything Izuku can do out of the water. It’s war out there and Izuku is back at square one. School closes down! He’s sent home! He’s practically told not to go out, because he’s a known hero student and there’s a massive target on his back. And for once the situation has escalated so far that he actually has to realize recklessness alone won’t prove a single thing here - in fact, if he dies, he’ll be proving a lot of people right. 

So he’s got to do something else. Something that hasn’t really occurred to him so far in his journey of always, ALWAYS, fighting something.  He’s going to have to convince people stronger than him, who have all the resources he didn’t, to team up with him.

[terrible-my-hero-academia-aus]

Au where instead of having a quirk, Izuku finds the 4D Pocket and Doraemon's gadgets.

.

[socalcutiesau]

Levis Dresden files AU

Name: Levi Harry Silverstein

Age: 12-19 depends when you wanna meet him. But default will be 19

Sex: Male

Orientation: He doesn’t know, everyones hot!

Marital status: not married

Temperament/personality: Shy, goofy, dorky, bubbly

job: - Busser/Waiter/cook/baker at his Families delicatessen

-Carpenter at his families construction company.

-Wizard (in training)

-novice detective./

-inventor of magical gadgets.

Family: mother, father, grandmother, uncles and aunties, six older female cousins, three older male cousins, one younger male and female cousin.

Friends: none yet.

love interest: none yet.

Appearance:

Race: Magical Human

Skin colour: pale

Physical traits: freckles, gap in his two front teeth

Height: six feet

Weight: 150

Build: thinish build but muscular from years of dance and work with his male family.

Eye colour: brown

Hair colour/length: a reddish brown, shoulder length, flipped out and fluffy

Likes and interests: kids, making stuff, hunting for fey and aliens, helping people, cute girls and handsome boys, strong women, sensitive men, cats, frogs, wizards , unicorns

favorite foods: besides hebrew, italian

Bands: voltaire, greenday, volbeat, beatles, dean martin

Books: count of monte cristo, vampire novels, adventure romance novels

movies: pirate films, vampire films interview series specifically and the lost boys, buffy, twilight for what it could have been and not what it was

Dislikes: abusers of any kind, the way super bright sunlight feels on his skin, bug bites , talkative villains

Food: banana, quinoa

Band: modern country

Book: religious texts that don’t talk about verifiable history

movies: religious films

Quirks: he loves inventing, investigating, cooking and swears like a sailor

Originates from: Riverside California

Lives now: Riverside, California AND Chicago Illinois

background story: The silversteins packed the whole family and moved to Chicago to open new branches of their Construction and Delicatessen businesses. Levi was somewhat relieved because he was never much liked by the other children in his school because he was shy, quiet and liked weird things like aliens and fae folk as well as believed in magic.

So when they moved to chicago when he was in middle school and Levi found a real wizard in a phonebook of all places he was thrilled! He thought for sure he would fit in better here. But he didn’t.

His family spends half the year in Chicago and the other half in Riverside running their business. Levi felt he would never find a community that accepted him until he began to display magical abilities and he in an attempt to figure out what was going on stumbled into the magic scene and found weirdos like himself. Levis mood was instantly lifted and he began to explore the magical mysteries around Riverside and Chicago every day.