#god can you imagine he kills someone and gets away with it by framing diana? repeating the actions that scarred them both in chapter 1?
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Damon keeps being shown with a red apple in both a lot of the promotional material as well as the opening intro, which feels very intentional considering the way this game takes a LOT of inspiration from the bible. The red apple represents temptation, in case the temptation of committing a murder to escape alive. Eva, just like Eve, was the first to bite the apple. And after her, her only other companion followed suit.
Damon's animal motif is the snake. Manipulative. Conniving. Untrustworthy. A traiter and a deceiver. Motivated by self interest. He's the snake, the root cause of the reason humanity was banned from paradise. He's constantly depicted holding the apple, never biting into it, as if still contemplating about whether to give in to the temptation of it all.
My biggest prediction for Damon is that he'll be the last murderer. That he'll perform the final kill and escape at the expense of all of them, the very way he accused them all of being predestined to do from the start.
#project eden's garden#p:eg#p:eg spoilers#damon maitsu#i feel like what solidified this theory for me were finally knowing the lyrics for the opening intro#the repetition on “the last kills” while the focus was on damon feels... purposeful#“all things wound... the last kills”#he's shown alone in the trial grounds. he's continuously shown with the red apple. like goddamn the mf is a freaking snake#he's so culprit coded it's insane#god can you imagine he kills someone and gets away with it by framing diana? repeating the actions that scarred them both in chapter 1?#abusing the group's trust to save himself. being a wolf in sheep's clothing the way he thought wolfgang was? the hypocrisy is tasty af#i'm so conflicted on this cuz on one hand this would be absolutely unique and phenomenal like a protag being the killer and winning???#on the other hand that would mean grace dying and i genuinely need that girl to make it out alive i swear to god#same with diana and toshiko. i don't have as much hope for them unfortunately but geez if someone deserves to survive it's them#idk if it's already been said but since the trial have two routes i'm hoping they'll be at least two endings#one where damon redeems himself and makes it right by the group and one where he stays stuck in his ways and sacrifices them all cuz of it#momento rambles
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
This is Me Trying
Part one and two
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers!
Synopsis: it’s time for secrets to come out
Masterlist
“How’s the project coming along?” You asked as you laid your head in Peter’s lap. You were in his room, like you always were, a month after you officially started dating.
“Just about done.” He answered you. “I made the periods bigger so we’d hit the maximum page length.”
“Ooo.” You snickered. “What a bad boy.”
“I’m really not.” He chuckled and began to play with your hair. “This is the most incriminating thing I’ve done all year.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you were.” You shrugged. “I like bad boys.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah. Remember that guy that like died in the war but then came back to life as an assassin? From a few years ago?” You asked as you looked up at him.
“The Winter Soldier?” Peter wondered.
“Yeah. Him.” You nodded. “I wanted to fuck him.”
The bluntness in your tone knocked the wind out of Peter’s chest. Nothing could have prepared him for what you had just said. You were too busy laughing to notice how shaken he was.
“W-what?” He stuttered as you sat up.
“I don’t know.” You laughed. “Like, I knew he was a murderer but I was into it. I wanted to spread him on a cracker.”
Peter pouted and folded his arms, his jealously getting the better of him.
“He’s not as strong as he looks, you know.” Peter got defensive. “And his hair is super greasy. It’s like a freaking slip and slide up there.”
“Hm. That’s a problem for me. I’m more into curls.” You smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair. “And how would you know how strong he is?”
Peter gulped, realizing he had said a little too much. Spider-Man knew how strong Bucky was, but you didn’t know about that.
“I don’t.” He lied. “I’m just assuming.”
“You don’t think he’s strong with that metal arm?” You asked as you pulled up a picture of him on your phone. “His biceps are like the size of my head.”
“They’re only bigger than mine because he’s older. A lot older.” Peter insisted. “Like, he’s geriatric.”
“Oh my God. Look at him!” You ignored Peter’s comment and showed him a picture of Bucky. “I want to suck on his thighs.”
“Ew.” Peter whined. “He’s like 400 years old.”
“So what you’re telling me is he’s experienced.” You raised your eyebrows suggestively. Peter let out an angry huff, jealousy bubbling in his stomach.
“Gross.” He groaned. “Why are you saying this in front of me? I’m your boyfriend. Not him.”
“I’m just kidding, Pete.” You chuckled and cupped his chin. “Plus, he’s basically a fictional character to us. It’s not like he’s some guy we know.”
Peter looked to the side, hating when he had to lie to you. Bucky was someone he knew personally, but you didn’t know that.
“Hm.” Peter mumbled quietly. You noticed Peter’s expression and climbed into lab, straddling his hips.
“Hey, I’m sorry.” You cupped his face and rubbed your nose against his. “I didn’t mean to make you all pouty. I’m only kidding about the Summer Soldier.”
“Winter Soldier.” Peter halfheartedly corrected you.
“Winter Soldier. See?” You shrugged. “I don’t even know his name.”
“You still said you would fuck him, though.” Peter pouted as he looked down at his lap.
“I said I wanted to. Past tense.” You corrected. “I had crush on him when I was like 14. I don’t even think of him or his thunder thighs anymore.”
“I have a hard time believing that.” Peter grumbled. You could tell he was still jealous so you pulled him in for a long kiss.
“It’s true. I only have eyes for you, Pete.” You whispered once you pulled away. He cracked a smile before rolling his eyes at you.
“Right.” He said sarcastically. “Just me and the murderer you want in your pants.”
“Come on.” You whined when he didn’t let up. “Can you even blame me? He works with the Avengers. You have to admit, that’s hot.”
Peter stopped pouting when he heard this. He may not be able to be the kind of bad boy you liked, but he was an Avenger.
“You really think that’s hot?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Duh.” You stated. “Don’t you like the Avengers?”
“Most of them.” He nodded. “But not Bucky.”
“Who’s Bucky?” You asked.
“Sorry.” He shook his head. “The Winter Soldier.”
“Why did you call him Bucky?” You laughed in confusion. You had no idea who James “Bucky” Barnes was. Unlike Peter, who sat across from him at dinner a week before.
“That’s his nickname.” Peter explained without thinking it through.
“I didn’t realize you and the Winter Soldier were on a nickname basis.” You teased. “What does he call you?”
“He doesn’t really talk to me.” Peter shrugged. “He’s really quiet, except when he’s with Cap.”
You sat back suddenly, looking at Peter like he was crazy. He was forgetting who his audience was and how you knew nothing of his double life.
“What?” Peter asked when he saw your face.
“Bucky? Cap?” You repeated his words. “Who are these people? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Bucky goes by, well, Bucky. And most of us call Steve, Cap.” Peter explained. “Well, except for Mr. Stark. He calls him Blondie most of the time.”
“So you’re hanging out with the avengers now?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Well, yeah, when when I’m…” Peter trailed off when he realized his mistake.
“When you’re what?” You asked. Peter knew he backed himself into a corner here. He didn’t want to lie to you anymore, so he figured it was time to tell you the truth. Not that he has much of a choice.
“I have something to tell you.” He stated. “It’s kinda important.”
“Okay.” You nodded and held his hand. “What’s up?”
“Don’t freak out, okay?” He prefaced. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds.”
“Oh.” You gasped. “Are you gay?”
“What? No.” Peter answered immediately. “Why was that your first guess?”
“Well my first guess was steroids but I know how you feel about that.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.
“It’s neither of those things. I’ve Uh…I’ve been bitten.” Peter began, not sure how else to phrase it. You smiled a little, thinking he was flirting.
“So have I.” You mumbled as you brought his hand to your lips to kiss the back of it.
“No. Not like that.” He waved his hand and your face fell. “I mean, yes like that. But that’s not what I’m talking about right now.”
“Then what is it, Peter?”
“They do a lot of experimental science at Oscorp. Genetic mutations, stuff like that.” He explained, beating around the bush.
“Why are we talking about Oscorp?” You wondered.
“I broke into one of the labs freshman year.” He explained. “I was trying to figure out some equation my father was working on.”
“Okay.” You said skeptically.
“I ended up in this weird room with all these modified spiders and one bit me. Right here.” He showed you his knuckles, which had a tiny scar on the center. You took his hand and examined the scar closer.
“What is this leading to?”
“After I was bitten, I could do all these things I couldn’t do before.” He told you. “I could climb walls, lift buses, and you know, my biceps grew.”
“You’re telling me a spider bite gave you muscles?”
“I’m telling you that I’m Spider-Man.” He said finally, making the room go silent. It was his first time telling a person on purpose, so it meant a lot to him. Your expression changed from skeptical to serious as you dropped his hand. You reached forward slowly and touched his face, staring at him like you were seeing him for the first time.
“Oh my God.” You whispered. “Peter, you’re…”
He put his hand over yours when you trailed off, anticipating the end of your sentence. Suddenly, you pushed his face away with a smirk.
“Full of shit.” You finished. “You are so full of shit. You almost had me.”
“I’m not.” Peter insisted. “I am Spiderman. I swear.”
“Peter. Be serious.” You whined as you got off his bed. “I thought you had something real to tell me.”
“I am being serious.” He told you. “This is the truth.”
“This is the truth.” You mimicked his voiced, like you used to. “Why would I believe that? Because you called the Fall Fighter by his nickname? Please.”
Peter was starting to grow frustrated. He always feared someone would find out his secret and he’s have to beg them not to tell. He never imagined he’d be sitting in front of his girlfriend, trying to convince her he was Spiderman.
“I know Bucky’s nickname because I know him.” Peter explained as he got off his bed. “It’s the same reason I know how strong he isn’t. He tried to punch me once and I caught his fist before he could. And that thing is made of vibranium. My hand hurt for a week.”
“I don’t get it.” You shrugged. “I don’t get the joke.”
“It’s not a joke. I really am Spiderman.” He insisted. “Mr. Stark recruited me back in 2016 to help him fight Captain America at an airport in Germany.”
“Yeah.” You nodded. “And I killed Princess Diana. I killed her and framed John-“
Peter grabbed your face and kissed you to shut you up, not wanting to hear your jokes when he was trying to tell you the biggest secret of his life.
“Can you shut up for a second?” He asked sweetly when he pulled away. “I’m trying to talk to you about something important. And we both know who really killed her.”
“No you’re not.” You snorted. “You’re trying to mess with me.”
“I’m telling you the truth.” He whined. “Why won’t you believe me?”
“Because you’re saying ridiculous things.” You chuckled as you walked over to your phone, which had been resting on his desk.
“May’s asking what we want for dinner.” You read her text off your screen. “Do you want Chinese again or-“
Before you could finish your sentence, Peter shot a web at your waist and pulled you towards him. You stumbled into his arms before looking down in confusion. You saw the web attached to your hip and tugged at it, but it didn’t come off. You looked at Peter with wide eyes for some answers.
“What the fuck?” You whispered harshly as you yanked on the web.
“Do you believe me now?” He asked as he held up his wrist. You saw the web shooter he had slipped on and touched it carefully. Between the web on your hip and his crazy story, you had no choice but to believe him.
“Well now I’m just embarrassed.” You mumbled sheepishly. “I was pretty sure I was right.”
“I told you you’d have to get used to be being right.” Peter smirked as he helped pull the web off of you. You put your hands on your hips and sighed loudly as you processes the information.
“Okay, wait.” You began. “How have you been Spider-Man this whole time? I’ve seen you fall up the stairs.”
“It’s different when I have the suit on.” He told you. “It gives me confidence.”
“Can I see it?” You asked, a childlike smile on your lips.
“The suit? Sure.” Peter went to his closet and pulled it out of his hiding spot. He brought it over to you, noticing your awestruck expression and smiling.
“Wow.” You whispered as you stared at the folded suit. “Can I touch it?”
“Go ahead.” He smiled, loving how impressed you were. He watched you fondly as you carefully ran your fingertips along the suit, tracing all the lines and details.
“It feels like a football.” You commented, making him laugh.
“Yeah.” He agreed. “I’m not sure what material it is. Mr. Stark made it for me.”
“Tony Stark made this for you?” You gasped.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “A few years ago.”
“Is that when he recruited you?” You wondered. “For Germany?”
“Is it. You listened.” He smiled happily when you remembered little details he had told you.
“Well I can’t tune you out anymore if you’re my boyfriend.” You winked at him before returning your attention to the suit. He blushed a little, appreciating how far you’ve come in your relationship.
“Can you put it on for me?” You asked suddenly as you looked up at him. Peter didn’t expect this reaction, especially not this request.
“Really? You want me to put it on?” He smiled shyly.
“Please?” Your eyes lit up. “I want to see you in it.”
“Okay.” He nodded as he tried to hide his excitement. “I’ll go put it on.”
Peter went into his bathroom and slipped into the suit. He didn’t know why he was as excited as he was to show you. Maybe because you hadn’t caught him in the suit like May and Ned had. He told you his secret willingly, and you asked to know more.
“Are you ready?” You called from the other side of the door. “I feel like I’m waiting to see you walk down the aisle.”
“I’m ready.” He called back as he pressed the center of the suit so it tightened against his skin. He gave himself one last look in the mirror before going back to his bedroom.
“Here it is.” He said sheepishly as he walked towards you. “What do you think?”
Your jaw dropped a little when you saw him. He seemed taller, but you realized it was just because he wasn’t slouching. In his suit, he looked more confident then you had ever seen him. He looked like a hero, and it brought a smile to your face.
“Holy shit.” You whispered as you walked closer to him. You reached forward to touch him, but quickly moved withdrew your hand.
“Are you scared?” He worried when he saw you pull away.
“No. Not of you.” You assured him. “But sometimes I find random glitter on my hands and I’m scared of getting anything on the suit.”
Peter chuckled at your reasoning and picked up your hand.
“It’s okay. You can touch me.” He whispered as he put his hand on his chest. Your eyebrows went up when you felt his warmth through the suit.
“Wow.” You smiled softly. “I didn’t think I’d be able to feel your heartbeat through it”.
“Well you make it beat pretty fast.” He told you as he put his hand over yours.
“Wait.” You pulled away a little. “If you’re Spider-Man, does that mean…”
“Yes?” Peter asked when you trailed off.
“You can set me up with Bucky.” You finished your sentence. “Do you have his number? Tell him I want to wash his hair.”
Peter let out a loud groan, not finding your joke funny. You laughed and tried to pull him back to you, but he kept pulling away.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Come back.” You laughed and tugged on his arm. “Come here. I love you.”
Peter stopped pulling away and froze. When you saw the bewildered look on his face, your smile fell.
“What?” He asked, his voice coming out in a whisper. That shit eating grin you used to hate broke through, lighting up his features. You tried not to let your shock show as you realized what you had said.
“Hm?” You pretended not to understand. “What?”
“What did you just say?” Peter again, now unsure he has heard you correctly.
“I didn’t say anything.” You shrugged, trying to act like you didn’t just tell your boyfriend that you loved him. It’s not that you didn’t mean it, but you didn’t mean to tell him that soon.
“Did you just tell me you loved me?” Peter asked hopefully as he pulled your closer to him.
“Hm. No. Wasn’t me.” You shook your head. “Must have been the wind.”
“My windows are closed.”
“Air conditioning.” You corrected.
“It’s off.”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t tell you I loved you. That would be ridiculous. How could I have fallen in love with the most annoying person on the planet?” You asked, questioning yourself more then him. You didn’t know how you had fallen for Peter in such a short amount of time. Just a few months ago, you couldn’t stand him. Now, you were standing in front of him, hoping he loved you back.
“I ask myself that every time I look at you.” He said, making your breath hitch in your throat.
“Are you saying you love me too?” You asked slowly.
“I thought you didn’t tell me you loved me?” He smirked, always taking a chance to tease you.
“I didn’t.” You lied, but you knew you were caught.
“Damn. That’s a shame.” Peter smiled softly. “Because I love you.”
“Yeah.” You smiled back once he confessed his feelings. “I bet you do, loser.”
Peter laughed at your never ending need to insult him before pulling you into a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. You could feel his gloved hands on the bare skin of your waist and shivered. When you pulled away, you kept your foreheads pressed together.
“I never thought it would be you.” You mumbled as you twirled one of his curls around your finger. “I never thought I’d fall in love with you.”
“It surprised me too.” He chuckled. “I’m glad this happened though. You weren’t just who I wanted to be. You were who I wanted to be with.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful.” You whispered. “I don’t ever want to get a call at three am telling me I need to come to the hospital. And I don’t want to start bringing three roses to the cemetery instead of two.”
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” He assured you as he held your face between his hands. He wiped your tears away with his gloves hands and kissed your nose. “I would never go anywhere where you couldn’t follow”.
“Ew.” You sniffled as you wiped your eyes.
“Why ew?” He chuckled.
“We’re gross.” You said. “We fell in love and now we’re gross.”
“It’s okay.” He smiled. “I like being gross with you.”
“I’m gonna throw up.” You gagged, making you both laugh.
“You’ll be okay.” He told you, and you believed him.
“Okay, now that we got that conversation out of the way, I have a lot of questions about all of this.” You said as you gestured to his suit.
“Ask me anything.” He said. “I’ll answer.”
“What did you wear before this?” You wondered. “I saw Spider-Man sightings on the news before 2016.”
Peter went to his closet and pulled out his original Spider-Man suit, the makeshift hoodie he used to wear.
“This. I made it myself.” He said as he handed it to you.
“No kidding.” You teased as you took it from him. “Did you sew this with your feet?”
“It was the best I could do.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m so lucky he made me a real suit. This one was not very protective.”
“Actually, I kind of like it.” You smiled as you held it up. It had bullet holes and tears everywhere. “It shows where you’ve been. And how far you’ve come.”
“I like your way of looking at it.” He smiled. “It’s yours, if you like it so much. I don’t need it anymore.”
“Why don’t you tell people that its you? This would make you famous. Like, Tony Stark famous.” You said as you put the hoodie on. “Don’t you want that? You know, since you’re such a loser at school.”
“Very funny”. He narrowed his eyes at you. “And no, actually. I’m safer this way. Plus, the bad guys can’t tell if I’m scared with the mask on. And it’s fun to have a secret. It gives me an edge.”
“Wow. I did not think me telling you I wanted to fuck the Winter Soldier would lead to all of this.” You poked fun at the situation.
“Me either but I’m glad it did.” He remarked. “I’m happy that you know. And I’m happy that you love me.”
“Well don’t make a big deal out of it.” You mumbled. “It’s embarrassing.”
“Don’t be embarrassed.” He laughed. “This is exciting. It’s all exciting.”
“We get it.” You teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re an Avenger, I’m in love with you, yada yada. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“It’s the hugest deal.” He insisted. “I want you to meet them. Come meet my team.”
“You want me to meet the Avengers?” You gulped.
“Yeah. I’m supposed to stop by the tower later for a meeting. Why don’t you come with me? This is one of the rare days where everyone is in the tower.”
“Are you sure about this?” You asked him. “What if they don’t like me?”
“They probably won’t.” He said simply. “Since you’re so irritating and everything.”
“Shut up.” You shoved him playfully. “I’m serious. This is way more intimidating than meeting someone’s parents.”
“Don’t be scared. I’ll be holding your hand the entire time.” He said as he kissed your knuckles. “And they’re way less intimidating than they seem. I promise, you’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” You reluctantly agreed. “I’ll meet them. But if I see Bucket, I can’t promise I’ll be able to control my hormones.”
“It’s Bucky.” He corrected. “And I’ll know if you’re getting too, you know, hot and bothered.”
“How would you know?” You asked, and his face flushed.
“Well, one of the powers I got was super smell. I can smell when people are scared or happy or…” He trialed off, too much or a gentleman to say the word.
“Horny?” You asked with a dropped jaw. “You can smell when people are horny?”
“I prefer the term aroused.” He said sheepishly, making you laugh loudly.
“Oh my God. What a pervert.” You teased him.
“It’s not my fault!” He was flustered now. “I didn’t ask for this power.”
“Wait.” You realized. “Can you smell when I’m aroused?”
Peter didn’t answer, but his silence spoke volumes. Your jaw dropped as you playfully smacked him.
“You pervert!” You painfully scolded. “You could smell that and never told me?”
“It’s my my fault.” He whined. “Not all the time, anyway.”
“So when is it your fault?” You folded your arms and he gulped.
“It’s only my fault when I purposefully wear that one white shirt.” He said quietly. “Whenever I’m wearing it, I can always, you know...”
“Smell me?” You nearly screamed. “You wear that shirt just to get a rise out of me? You little slut.”
“I’m not a slut.” Peter laughed. “I could just smell how much you liked it, so I started wearing it more. And in the name of being honest, I can smell you right now.”
“Oh my God. You whore. You little minx.” You taunted playfully. “Using your body for attention like that. What a dirty little slut.”
“I’m not dirty or a slut.” Peter insisted. “You’re the one who gets worked up over a t shirt.”
“Excuse me?” You let out a shocked laugh. “Don’t turn this around on me, mister. I can’t control how I react to your erotic clothing. Especially when you’re the one who can’t even form a sentence around me when I wear that one red skirt.”
“Erotic?” He shot back. “It’s literally a $5 shirt from Target. It’s shapeless. And that skirt could not be shorter. I can literally see your ovaries in it.”
“You give it shape with your stupid spider muscles.” You said as you pointed an accusing finger at him.
“Oh my God.” He gasped. “You’re thinking about the shirt now, aren’t you?”
“No I’m not.” You said quickly.
“Really?” He cocked his head. “Smells like you are.”
Before you could respond, and you had a lot to say, Peter’s phone buzzed.
“It’s Mr. Stark.” He told you. “He said I should come now.”
“We’re finishing this conversation later.” You said as you grabbed your phone. “You’re still in trouble.”
“Whatever you say.” Peter chuckled as he lead you out the door. You thought you were going to the elevator, but Peter brought you to the staircase.
“I don’t walk there.” He said as he lead you up the stairs. He opened the door to the roof and gestured to the edge. “I swing.”
The next thing you knew, you were swinging towards the Avengers tower in Peter’s arms. You held on tightly to him as you tried not to scream in his ear. He was loving how he finally got to show someone what his life was like while you were fearing for your life. Finally, you landed on the balcony of the tower and Peter set you down.
“So?” He asked excitedly. “Did you have fun?”
“You tell me. Can’t you smell my excitement?” You jeered as you caught your breath. Peter knew you weren’t going to drop that for a long time. He took his mask off and lead you inside, not wanting to tell you that he could smell how scared you were.
Finally, he brought you to the conference room where the rest of the Avengers were. Their causal chatter came to a stop when you walked in together and all eyes were on you.
“Hey everyone.” Peter said shyly. “This is my girlfriend, Y/n. Shes gonna sit in on the meeting today.”
“Y/n?” Nat jumped in immediately. “The one who’s hair you used to stick gum in when you were little?”
“I thought Y/n was the girl who filled your locker with extra small condoms and the filmed you when they all fell out.” Sam chuckled, giving you an impressed smile.
“No, wait.” Bruce cut in. “I thought she was the one who started the rumor that Peter didn’t know how to swim.”
“You’re all wrong.” Steve sighed. “Y/n is the one Peter blamed losing the class pet on. Remember? The little rat escaped and he told the class it was her fault.”
“It was a hamster.” Peter cringed. “And it was my fault. Sorry about that.”
“I love you, but I will never forgive you for that.” You smiled softly as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. The team looked at each knowingly at this display of affection.
“Love?” Tony asked as he entered the room. “Are we talking about how much you all love me?”
Tony stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing there. You had forgotten to take off Peter’s original Spider-man hoodie, and it caught Tony off guard. He never thought he’d see that hoodie again, the one that brought him to Peter in the first place. The one he studied and tried to replicate when he made Peter a new suit. The corners of his mouth turned down as he appreciated how much Peter had grown.
“Oh. I see Peter brought a friend.” Tony remarked. “Please, make yourself at home in our top secret facility that no one unauthorized personnel is supposed to enter.”
“Mr. Stark, this is my girlfriend Y/n.” Peter introduced you. You held out your hand for Tony to shake, and he did so without taking his eyes off of you.
“Y/n?” He asked. “The one-“
“Yeah. Probably.” You nodded, making him laugh.
“Nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said as he straightened himself out. “You’re welcome to sit in on the meeting. But if you make any noise, you will be taken out by a sniper.”
“He’s kidding.” Peter whispered to you, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Peter took a seat and you sat on his lap, making him fight back a smile. He was now at an Avengers meeting with his former enemy sitting on his lap, wearing his clothes.
“Thank you, sir.” You smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you too. All of you. I appreciate everything you guys have done for the world. You’re all really brave.”
“Your boyfriend is pretty brave too.” Steve commented. “He surprises me everytime we work together.”
“I was surprised too.” You agreed. “I didn’t think the biggest loser I knew was protecting Queens.”
Everyone raised their eyebrows at your subtle jab at Peter and it suddenly made sense why the girl he’d been complaint about all these years had the same name as his girlfriend.
“You let her talk to you like that?” Sam teased.
“She can say whatever she wants.” Peter shrugged. “And she does. Do you know how hard it is to get her to stop talking?”
“Not nearly as hard as it is to get you to clean up after yourself, put the toilet seat down, or show up on time for dates.” You replied with a cheery smile. Peter smiled back and took the loss, not wanting to get into it in front of his team. He turned back to Tony and gave him his full attention as the meeting began. You stayed quiet on Peter’s lap as the team discussed their next mission and who would be covering what territory. You made a small noise when Tony gave Peter his assignment, making everyone look at you.
“Whats the matter?” Peter asked as he bounced you a little on his knee.
“I just didn’t realize you were such an important part of the team.” You said. Peter had a big role that required a lot more responsibility than you thought he was capable of. He didn’t seem worried in the slightest, which told you he was used to this much responsibility. Something about Peter’s ambition and ability to take on Avenger level tasks for very appealing to you.
So appealing, in fact, that Peter noticed.
“Hm.” Peter said and he sniffed the air. You folded your lips in, knowing exactly what he was doing. The rest of the team had no idea what was happening, but you knew Peter was trying to get a rise out of you.
“What’s wrong?” Nat took the bait. You pinched Peter’s leg under the table as he took another loud whiff.
“Nothing.” Peter smirked. “It just smells funny in here.”
Tag List 🏷
@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort
@foreverxholland @lavender-writer @michaela072796 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258
@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @theincredibledeadlyviper @thestylestour @officialsimppage @mrvelscaptains @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours @okkulta @parkerlovebot @jungkxxkk @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @whatthefuckimbisexual @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @creatorofthegalaxy @f-hollands @ilovefrogs1000 @itstaskeen @itmatteredatthetime @wrendermeuseless @amazinggracy @iprobablyshipit91 @magicalxdaydream @whereismytelephone @theonly1outof-a-billion @leilanixx @namoreno @bi-lmg @dracoswhore007 @tomhollandloml @avengers-hamiltrash @sunshinepeterparkr @gh0stgurl @so-very-asleep @veryholland @white-wolf1940 @spideycheles @wonderzwndaya @fanficaddict13125 @pinklxmonade @thebestqueenoftheworld @nowayhomeparker @willowestelle @imobsessedzs @spideyspeaches @bookfrog242
#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker enemies to lovers#peter parker angst#peter parker fluff#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#marvel#spiderman
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Watching Snyder League
-Diana literally vaporizes a guy armed with nothing but an assault rifle.
-Also, these have gotta be like the dumbest terrorists. Their plan:
A. Send multiple armed gunmen to take hostages.
B. Stall for time
C. Set off a suitcase bomb on a one minute countdown (why not just set it off immediately? It's In The Script)
You have a suitcase bomb--just park a car somewhere, set the timer, leave it in the trunk, and walk away. You can kill as many people as you want without losing any of your own guys.
-Superman's scream sends out five separate shockwaves. Which makes me think the guy's milking it, personally.
- I'm amused that both SOP for the Amazons is having, like, fifty people standing around guarding the Mother Box. AND that they don't ramp up security after it wakes up.
- And there's this system of burying the Mother Box. Which 1. seems like the only way to get there in the first place is to teleport in. What good is this system against a teleporter?
2. It takes six guards to suicide themselves by knocking down pillars, which seems like--in five thousand years, you couldn't come up with something where you just pull a level from twenty feet away?
This is the problem with the Amazons. They're all women, so none of them go into STEM fields.
- It's also real weird that this Bruce Wayne doesn't even try to hide that he's Batman. He just walks right up to Aquaman and goes "hey, Bruce Wayne, I'm also Batman." And remember, he's getting the Justice League together entirely based on a hunch. At least in Josstice League, there were Parademons all up in Gotham.
- And should I even bother to ask why Darkseid's people can't just bring three new Mother Boxes to Earth? Are those the only three? If so, you'd think they'd try to get them back sooner. Like, A LOT sooner.
- Okay, this was supposed to come out one year before Infinity War, but still, it was pretty obvious what Marvel was doing with Thanos and the Infinity Gauntlet. They had to know they were inviting comparisons.
-I love the implication, tho, that Darkseid just lost track of the Mother Boxes and just... no one realized they were back on Earth. And they have Parademons that can specifically sniff out the Mother Boxes.
-And if Superman dying was such a momentous occasion that it woke up a Mother Box, why not the Old Gods dying? Why not Ares dying? Wouldn't that have left Earth just as undefended?
-I have no idea why any of this is happening a couple years after Superman debuted and then died and not in, like, 1446.
-Are the Mother Boxes like finicky computers? Do you need to turn them off and on again? When Superman showed up, did they shut down for real, and then he died, so they came back on for real? Is it like a Windows 95 thing, where you can't JUST turn the computer off, you have to go to the start menu and press Shutdown and then wait for it to close up shop?
-It’s so weird that this is supposed to be a Dark, Mature Adaptation For Adults! And it doesn’t have the same basic logic you’d get from an episode of Power Rangers.
-So. Much. Daddy issues.
-Please stop letting Ezra Miller improv.
-They cast like the gayest man in America to play the one guy with a love interest.
-Diana: "I lost someone I loved once." Well, twice, but who's counting?
-All those reshoots and they couldn't get Amber Heard to knock off the British accent?
-Why is Desaad, of all people, Darkseid’s dragon? Is it just because they were rifling through all the Fourth World saga to find the few guys with scary names instead of Granny Goodness or Virman Vundabar?
- And they really play up Darkseid appearing to Steppenwolf, but we've not only already seen him in the big flashback, we saw him get his ass kicked by Zeus of all people.
- And the whole thing where Steppenwolf is part of Darkseid's 'family' really isn't helping the Thanos-Nebula-Gamora comparison.
-It's weird to introduce Darkseid as the guy who was already beaten once. Wouldn't it make more sense that Steppenwulf was the guy who lost, and that allowed Darkseid to take over, and now he's trying to redeem himself for his defeat? Or that Darkseid was never defeated at all, but someone stole the Anti-Life Equation from him and hid it on Earth? Something. Instead, it’s literally just randomly burnt into the crust of the Earth, Darkseid discovers it, then forgets all about it for reasons the movie doesn’t get into despite being four damn hours long.
-It’s only the central plot, whatever, forget about it.
- Pretty sure Kal eye-lasered a couple Army guys to death after he was resurrected, not that he ever gives a shit.
-Third big reveal of Darkseid. Come on, you've shown him three times now. We've heard him talk.
-And this does the same thing as Josstice League with Superman being more powerful than the rest of the JLA put together. Here, he even no-sells Steppenwolf's axe. He just lets it hit him and it doesn’t do shit. So Doomsday could kill him, but Steppenwolf can't even scratch him. And yet Wonder Woman seems pretty evenly matched with both, if not outclassed by Steppenwolf.
-Barry Allen spends the whole climax running in a circle. And he fails at it! Dude's really retarded when he doesn't have Team STAR Labs cheering him on.
-He also casually travels back in time to undo his side getting a Game Over, which makes you wonder how any conflict in this universe can ever have any stakes. Say what you will about Endgame, but at least they explain why time travel can’t solve every problem they ever have.
-Hell, the Mother Boxes can bring people back to life. The example used is literally “it can turn smoke back into a house.” Why not bring Joe Morton back to life? He did a good job in T2, c’mon.
-Speaking of, according to TV Tropes, Ray Fisher got to come up with his own backstory for Cyborg (”I don't praise Chris Terrio and Zack Snyder for simply putting me in Justice League. I praise them for EMPOWERING me (a black man with no film credits to his name) with a seat at the creative table and input on the framing of the Stones before there was even a script!”), which makes it kinda hilarious that this movie’s characterization of Cyborg is that he’s a genius sports hero who also loves helping out the underprivileged.
-AND his big conflict with his dad is that Silas Stone was never there for him, as literally represented by there being an empty seat next to his mom at Vic’s big sportsball game. So apparently the black experience is indistinguishable from Austin Powers In Goldmember. Who knew?
-What else? It's weird that the narrative tries to put some importance in Martha Kent, but then in her big scene with Lois, she's really Martian Manhunter (not kidding) and when Superman is resurrected, he hears encouraging words ONLY from Jor-El and Jonathan. All she really contributes to the story is hugging Superman after he comes back.
-Also, Batman spends a lot of time in the climax shooting people with a rifle. They're bug people and it's, like, a Halo rifle, but still. You can tell Snyder's just chomping at the bit to have Batman carry around a Colt Commando.
-They give no shits about secret identities in this, so why do they still bother with putting a shitty distortion effect on Batfleck's voice? He has a pretty good Batman voice outside the suit, but once he puts it on, he starts sounding like he's giving a blowjob to Daft Punk.
-One of the movie’s, like, four cliffhangers is Lex Luthor telling Deathstroke about Batman’s secret identity, because Deathstroke has a private vendetta against Batman and is out to get him. Of all the Bat rogues who are solely motivated by taking out Batman--why choose Deathstroke, the guy that’s just a mercenary for hire, to characterize as simply hating Batman? (They also imply Batman took out Deathstroke’s eye and THAT’S the big feud between him and--guys. C’mon. This was really supposed to be a whole movie of Deathstroke getting revenge for his eye?)
- The movie ends with them making Wayne Manor the JLA headquarters--God, just tell me if secret identities matter or not.
-Did we really need two ‘beyond the impossible’ scenes back to back, one for Cyborg and one for the Flash?
-Oh, it’s not Arkham Asylum, it’s ‘Arkham Home For The Emotionally Troubled.’ Was this supposed to be one of those Arrowverse things where they call it Starling City for a while, only to rebrand it Star City because that’s somehow better than just calling it Star City in the first place?
- "[Snyder] also said that the reason Darkseid lost track of which world the Mother Boxes were left on was because he was gravely injured and their forces sent limping away, and upon returning to Apokolips had to fight a civil war for the throne (possibly the event hinted where Steppenwolf betrayed him), wherein their records were lost." Imagine having a movie four hours long and not explaining the fucking backstory.
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Day 7: Wedding Day
*hides from shame because of how late this is* Sorry guys...
December 31. Wayne Manor. 23:59:50
Diana
"Ten. Nine. Eight."
The countdown to the new year begins and my heart flutters as I hear each number, realizing soon it'll be the day of Bruce and my wedding.
"Seven. Six."
The room is filled with our wedding party and family, including my mother. I can see she is exhausted, having been working nonstop since flying in a few days ago with Antiope, but she was quick to decline the invitation to turn in early, knowing we would have a busy day tomorrow. She wanted to bring in the New Year with me and Donna together for the first time in years.
Beside my mother stands Antiope, a glass of champagne in hand as she flings her head back and laughs at something Alfred says. It has only been a few months since she and my mother have begun dating, and my mother was hesitant to tell me she was dating a woman, but now that I see the two of them I know it was all worth it. Antiope makes my mother happy, and her happiness is all I ever wanted.
"Five. Four."
Clark and Lois stand by the door, stealing sweet kisses and whispering amongst themselves, knowing it'll be another day before they will sleep beside each other. Bruce and I had agreed to spend the night away from each other, wanting to get a bit of separation before the wedding, so Oliver had rented a house by the bay, wanting all the guys to have one last night together before the first marriage of the group.
So I had invited all the girls to stay at the manor, knowing if they stayed to celebrate the New Year like they insisted, they wouldn't want to travel back home only to get a mere few hours of sleep. It was only after they agreed had I felt better about inviting everyone over the night before our wedding, letting our rehearsal dinner extend late into the night, until we stood watching the television, smiles on our faces as we watched the countdown to the new year continue.
"Three. Two."
I sneak a glance toward the fireplace where Shayera and John stand, flirting without a care who sees. Wally and Oliver sit in front of the television, a beer in each of their hands, simultaneously watching the countdown and trying to convince Donna to visit Star City the next time she is in the states.
Charlie and her wife, who looks absolutely fabulous for having a baby two months ago, stands next to my mother, showing her photos of the baby, ignoring the countdown, which only makes Mother smile, her thoughts swirling. She's already asked me when Bruce and I will be having kids, but I fear the longer she looks at the baby photos, the more questions will be asked.
"One. Happy New Year!"
Everyone erupts into cheers and I smile as I watch everyone find a special someone to kiss to bring in the New Year, my eyes narrowing as I watch Wally kiss Donna, but I decide to shake it off knowing he has no ill intentions.
A pair of hands wrap around my waist and flip me around, making me squeal in surprise as I try not to spill the champagne in my hand. Bruce smiles and presses his forehead against mine, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose, and takes a deep breath. "Happy New Year, Diana," he says.
The grip on my waist tightens as I lean into him and whisper, "Happy New Year," before I pull him in for a kiss. Our lips meet and I can hardly contain my smile as my free hand moves to rest on his shoulder. This is the man I will be celebrating all my New Years with, the man who will be by my side as I look forward to new beginnings and bright and wonderful changes.
No sooner have my lips found his is someone standing next to us, clearing their throat, forcing me to pull back from my fiance. "Save some of that for the wedding," Mother says with a smirk. Bruce reciprocates with a smirk of his own and I turn my head away, trying not to let my mother see the faint blush that has crept onto my cheeks. I know he is not thinking of the wedding, but rather of the night that is to follow, and I'd much rather not have my mother know my rather unwholesome thoughts.
"Now, it's time for the men to go," she says as she places a gentle hand on Bruce's shoulder. "The bride needs her rest."
Bruce feigns a sigh of disappointment. "What about Alfred?" he says, knowing nothing he says will stop my mother from shooing him out of the manor.
Mother only shakes her head. "Alfred can stay," she says, "but you must go."
Bruce nods and drops his hand from my waist, whispering, "Fine, kick me out of my own house," only loud enough for me to hear. When Mother turns and raises an eyebrow he only smiles widely, leans in to steal one final kiss, and rushes toward the door, where Clark is waiting with his coat.
"I'll see you at the altar," he calls over his shoulder as he steps out onto the snow covered stoop. "I love you."
"I love you too," is all I say, watching as Clark shuts the door with a small wave, before Mother plucks the champagne glass from my hand and forces me up the stairs and into my bed, wanting me to be well rested for later today.
January 1. Wayne Manor. 07:10
Diana
There is another knock on the bedroom door and I want nothing more than to shoo away the person on the other end, wishing for a few more moments of rest. Sleep did not come easily to me last night, or rather this morning, as both nerves mixed with excitement filled me, keeping me up well into the early morning. Today I am getting married. Today I become someone's wife, and although I know I should be thrilled, I can't help but wish I could sneak away and get another hour of sleep. Surely Bruce would understand. But the thought of standing in front of him, clothed in the beautiful gown Alfred worked so hard on, makes my heart skip a beat, and I roll over trying to steady my pulse for what seems like the hundredth time.
Another knock fills the room forcing a grumble from my lips as I turn once again to Bruce's empty spot on the bed, clutching at the empty sheets where my fiance usually sleeps. It still smells like him and I can't help but smile when I realize I will get to sleep next to him for the rest of our lives.
The bedroom door creaks open and my mother pops her head inside. "Diana," she calls, stepping into the room, "it's time to get up."
Letting out a groan I sit up and pull the covers from my body, rubbing the last bit of sleep from my eyes as my mother comes up to the bed and takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. She says nothing as she fiddles with the sheets on the bed, her mind racing as she realizes her eldest daughter is getting married today.
"Is everyone else awake?" I ask as I stand from the bed. I notice her nod her head slowly and I nod my own in response, walking over to my closet, where my robe is hanging. "Do we know when Donna's-" my words catch in my throat when I see my mother sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at me, tears falling from her eyes as she watches me drop the article of clothing and rush to her side.
"What's wrong?" I ask, taking a seat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
She only shakes her head and reaches up to place a hand on my face. "How have I been so busy, so caught up with work and duties that I missed you growing up." She cups my face and reaches over with her free hand, grasping my hand in hers and says, "How is my little sun and stars already getting married?"
I flash her a smile, close my eyes, and kiss the palm of her hand. "I may be getting married, but I will always be your sun and stars." My eyes open to see my mother smile and I know even though she cries, they are now tears of happiness. We may have had a troubled past, both unable to understand why the other would do the opposite of what we wanted, but things have changed. I have come to appreciate the sacrifices my mother has made for me and she has come to trust the decisions I have made for myself, including Bruce.
"Good," she says. "And because you're my child, if Bruce hurts you, I will kill him."
I let out a small chuckle as I stand from the bed, pulling her up to stand beside me, and nod. "You'll have to get in line," I say as I loop my arm through hers. "Donna and Antiope have already threatened him."
My mother lets out a laugh as she wipes the last remaining tears from her eyes, before she leads me into the bathroom. "Good," she says. "Now, go shower and meet everyone downstairs for breakfast. I will not have you passing out on your wedding day because you did not eat."
"Of course, Mother," I say with a chuckle, plucking a towel from the shelf beside the door, before the door shuts and I start the shower.
January 1. Downtown Gotham. 12:32.
Bruce
You can tell a lot about a man from his eyes. I used to think that wasn't true, that it was all just something made up, but as I stand in front of the full length mirror beside the open bedroom door, I now know it is true. Staring into the eyes of the man in the reflection, I don't see the hurt I used to carry all those years, the pain of having been the only surviving Wayne. I don't see the constant anger I harbored, nor do I see the hatred for the man who took away my parents. No, in the eyes of the man in the mirror I see hope. I see a man who is happy, who is excited to see what is in store. I see a man who is set to marry his best friend.
My eyes continue to stare at my reflection, a crooked smile on my face as I finish tightening the tie around my neck. In an hour and a half I will be marrying Diana, and I can't help but thank her gods, and every other god in the universe, for getting us here. I've been in love with her for as long as I can remember, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine we'd be here, on our wedding day, ready to make the commitment I have wanted for so long.
There is a knock on the door and my eyes glance up toward the open doorway. Clark stands there, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the door frame, his right eyebrow arched behind thick glasses. "Why?" is all he asks as he lifts the tie that is fastened around his neck.
I assume he is wondering why we chose the hue of purple that we both now wear, but I can't explain it in a way he will comprehend. Understandably, I was also a bit skeptical of wearing purple, as it wasn't something that was normally in my wardrobe, but when Diana was able to find the perfect grey tuxedos to compliment the color, I was more willing to wear it for a few hours.
I let my shoulders shrug as I finish flattening my collar, taking the knot of the tie and jiggling it around until it is perfectly placed in the center of my throat. "It's Diana's favorite color," I say.
I can see Clark's reflection in the mirror as he straightens himself and fixes his own tie. "Diana's favorite color is blue," he states, his eyebrows raising once more.
I turn away from the mirror and give my head a small shake, letting Clark know my original statement was true. "She tells everyone her favorite color is blue," I say, "but she loves purple." It is something I have known since high school, and although Clark and Diana used to date, it seems like it was something that never came up.
Clark walks into the room, stopping beside me as he places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Bruce," he begins, letting out a sigh as he drops his head. "I'm sorry." It is my turn to raise an eyebrow, confused, as he continues. "I knew you were in love with Diana in college, and when you denied it, I knew I should've seen past the lie, but instead I went after her. I betrayed you as a friend, and I never truly apologized for that."
It's true. I was hurt when Clark went after Diana in college, but it was my fault. If I would have just admitted I had feelings for Diana, if I would have admitted I was in love with her, Clark and I would have never had the fallout after graduation. I'm glad we're able to have that brotherly relationship back, as I missed him more than he knows.
"In college I was not the man she deserved," I admit, knowing twenty year old me was not the man that Diana needed nor deserved. She needed someone who was willing to be vulnerable, and although I loved her, I still was afraid to let my wall down with anyone, especially her. "Beside, it's all in the past," I say, nudging his shoulder as I reach for the tuxedo jacket that is hanging off the corner of the mirror. Oliver walks into the room as I pull the jacket on, buttoning it as I watch him turn to look at himself in the mirror, admiring his freshly groomed beard.
"You ready to get married?" Oliver asks, never once tearing his eyes away from his own reflection. I scoff and nod my head, knowing he can see my action in the glass, before he winks and nods. "Let's go!" He rushes out of the room and down the hall, forcing Clark to shake his head and chuckle.
"I guess it's time to go get you hitched," Clark says with a smirk, watching as I scowl at him.
"We're not in Kansas," I say unamused. Clark only chuckles once more and shrugs. The two of us make our way to the doorway and step out into the hallway. "By the way," I say, remembering the message that was left on my phone yesterday afternoon, "Gustavo says your order is ready."
January 1. Wayne Manor. 13:53.
Diana.
My heart continues to pound as I listen to the sounds of our guests filling the conservatory downstairs. The ceremony starts in a few minutes and the nerves are finally starting to catch up to me, the thoughts of Bruce standing at the front of the aisle making me as giddy as a school girl with a crush.
There is a small knock on the door before it opens slowly, allowing Alfred to step inside. He smiles at the woman standing by the door, either Lois or Antiope, I can't remember, who is making sure Bruce does not see me before the ceremony, before his eyes glance up to see me standing beside my mother and Donna. His eyes roam over the dress and his smile widens, happy to know the dress he created for me is part of this perfect day. "Ms. Diana," he says, reaching out to hold my hands, "you look absolutely beautiful."
I blush at Alfred's compliment, letting the older Englishman, who has become the only father figure I have had in my life, brush the veil from my face to kiss my cheek. "Thank you, Alfred," I say.
Alfred looks over to my mother, who is wiping away tears for the third time today, although I suspect it will not be the last, and continues to smile. "And Ms. Hippolyta, you look beautiful as well," he says, watching as my mother glances down at her dress before returning his compliment with a smile. She thanks him with a small nod and blots the tears from under her eyes with a handkerchief. "Now, I do believe it is time to get going. Master Wayne is nervously awaiting your entrance."
I nod, turning to the mirror once more to get one last look of my reflection in the dress, before I turn to my mother. "It's time," I say, reaching out for my mother's hand, smiling when she places her hand in mine and gives it a gentle squeeze.
13:59. Bruce.
The music begins to play and I take a deep breath. This is it. I am used to being in the spotlight, so I don't know why I suddenly feel so nervous, but it's a good feeling.
"You ready?" Clark whispers, nudging my shoulder with his.
I nod, watching as Alfred comes down the stairs to join me and the rest of the wedding party, who are all dressed and ready to go. "She looks beautiful, Master Wayne," Alfred says with a smirk, taunting me, knowing I am desperate to see my fiance. "It is time to begin."
He opens the door and steps into the conservatory and Clark and I follow close behind, making our way to the front of the room, where we turn to greet the guests with a smile. Martha Kent sits in the front row, flashing me a wide grin when I give her a small wave, grateful that she is here. Beside Alfred, she is the closest thing to a parent I have had since I was eight.
Beside Martha is an empty seat, where Hippolyta will sit once she walks Diana down the aisle. Antiope sneaks along the wall, quietly taking her seat beside Hippolyta's empty chair and gives me two thumbs up, letting me know everyone is ready to go.
The door to the conservatory opens once more and Oliver and Lois step into the room. Lois' arm is looped into Oliver's as the two begin their decent down the aisle, each smiling widely as they make their way to where Alfred, Clark, and I stand. At the end of the aisle the two separate, and go to their respective sides, waiting for the rest of the wedding party to come down.
The rest of the couples come down the aisle, Shayera with John, Wally with Charlie, each standing beside the other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Donna comes down by herself, as she is Diana's maid of honor, meaning Diana is right around the corner.
The music coming from the group of musicians in the corner fades out and a new tune begins to play. Everyone stands from their seats and turns to face the back of the room where Diana and her mother have appeared, arm in arm, ready to walk down the aisle.
My breath catches in the back of my throat when I lay eyes on my fiance for the first time. She is the epitome of beauty, both inside and outside, and I can't help but let my heart flutter when I see her in that dress. She wasn't lying when she said the dress was perfect, and as I take in the lace and the fabric that covers her curves amazingly, I can't help but give a goofy smile. As the two begin to walk down the aisle, Diana glances up and her eyes meet mine, and suddenly nothing else in the world matters.
Time seems to stand still as I watch her continue down the aisle. I never imagined getting married, I never imagined being this committed to someone, but with Diana, it was a welcomed change. I want to be better for her. I want to be everything for her. There are days when I still don't know what she sees in me, but I won't question my fortune.
Diana and Hippolyta make it to where we all stand. Her eyes are still locked on mine as Hippolyta places her daughter's hand in mine with a smile, before she steps back and takes a seat in her designated chair, pulling Antiope's hand in her own, lacing their fingers together.
Everyone sits and the music begins to fade out once more, and I take the time to whisper, "You look beautiful," to the woman in front of me.
Diana smiles and says, "You look handsome," before she turns and hands the bouquet in her hand to Donna.
Alfred clears his throat and everyone turns their attention to the Englishman. "Love is a beautiful thing," he begins. He closes the book in his hand, deciding to speak from the heart rather than read an unoriginal prompt. "I've known Master Bruce his whole life, as many of you have. He is an incredible young man, determined and intelligent, and so focused on not letting the tragedy of his parents define him in the way people expected. Likewise, I've known Ms. Diana a majority of her life, and she was a godsend to both Bruce and I during those dark days." He takes a breath, trying to compose himself, before he clears his throat once more. "Bruce and Diana have a love that is so pure, so precious, many of us spend our whole lifetimes trying to achieve it."
He hands me the piece of paper that my vows are written on and I quietly accept it with my right hand, refusing to let go of Diana's hand with my left. He quickly turns to Diana and hands her the piece of paper that her vows are on, before he says, "Diana and Bruce have decided to write their own vows. Diana, we'll start with you."
Diana nods and glances down at her paper, before she folds it and drops her hand, not needing to read the words off the page. "Bruce," she begins, squeezing my hand, "when we were kids, I knew you would be a big part of my life. When we were in high school I fell in love with you. You're my best friend, Bruce, my biggest supporter, and I promise to spend the rest of my life supporting you as you've supported me. I love you, more than anything, and I can't wait to start this journey with you."
Diana smiles and exchanges the paper with her vows for a handkerchief. "Bruce," Alfred says, prompting me to start my vows.
I nod, squeeze Diana's hand and caress her knuckles with my thumb, clearing my throat as I ball up my vows in my hand. "Diana," I begin, shoving the crumbled paper into my pocket, "who would have known the little girl who punched me on the playground would end up being my wife." Everyone begins to chuckle and I smirk at Diana, watching as she blushes and tries to shake her head at the memory. "Throughout my life, you've been the one constant, beside Alfred of course. You're my best friend. You've been there when I've been a stubborn, hard headed, mean, and downright terrible person. You helped me survive college, you helped me fight for my company, and you've been there every step of the way when I needed a kick in the rear."
"You've been the light at the end of the tunnel for so long, and now that we're here, out in the light together, I'll work my hardest trying to make you as happy as you've made me." I finish my vows and smile at the woman who will be my wife in a few short moments, lifting her hand to my lips, gently placing a kiss on the back of it, letting her know just how much I love and cherish her. She smiles back and my heart skips a beat. I don't know how after all these years that beautiful smile still manages to do that to me.
"Now," Alfred begins, turning to Clark, "may I have the rings." Clark nods and reaches into his tuxedo jacket, pulling a thin box from the pocket that lines the jacket. He hands the box over to Alfred. "Bruce, take this ring and place it on Diana's finger, and repeat after me," he says, as he opens the book in his hand once more. "Diana, take this ring as a symbol of my love."
He hands me the ring and I lift Diana's left hand, sliding the ring on her fourth finger as I repeat the words, "Diana, take this ring as a symbol of my love."
Alfred places the silver band that is to be placed on my finger in the middle of Diana's hand and nods, "Diana, repeat after me. Bruce, take this ring as a symbol of my love."
Diana repeats the words Alfred has given her and slides the ring on my finger, giving me a wink as she squeezes my hand gently. She mouths a quick 'I love you' before she turns back to face Alfred, a smug smile on my face because she knows exactly how my heart is starting to race with the thought that in a few seconds we will be married.
My hand still holds hers as I turn to Alfred, squeezing it in return as I flash her a smile, watching as Alfred glances down at the notes in his hand, taking a deep breath as he attempts to hide the happy tears that are threatening to fall from the corner of his eyes. "A marriage," he begins, taking another deep breath, "is a joining of two families. It is a celebration of two lives becoming one." He glances up at Hippolyta and flashes her a smile.
"It is my greatest pleasure to join these two as husband and wife." Alfred turns to me and his smile turns into a smirk. "Bruce, you may kiss your bride."
It is all the instruction I need. I sweep Diana in my arms and dip her, earning a gasp from her and the bridesmaids standing behind her, before she relaxes in my arms and lets out a chuckle. It is soon silenced when I press my lips to hers. She wraps her arms around my neck as the room begins to clap and cheer, but I am too focused on kissing my wife to pay any mind to everyone else. It isn't long before I pull away from Diana, flashing her a smirk, silently telling her there will be far more kissing later tonight.
She gently pats my cheek and offers me another smile as I pull her up to stand beside me. "It is my greatest pleasure to announce Mr. and Mrs. Bruce and Diana Wayne." Once again everyone claps and cheers, signaling our que to begin our exit.
Diana and I walk down the makeshift aisle, past our guests who continue to clap as we make our way out of the room. Our wedding party partners up and follows us out, but I don't bother to look at where they go, as I pull Diana away from everyone. "Bruce," she whispers as she turns her head to glance at the rest of the wedding party. "Where are we going?"
I don't answer her. I only pull her to the small hidden corner underneath the staircase and wrap my arms around her, letting my lips capture hers in a sweet kiss. "I just want a moment alone with my wife," I say, "before I have to share you for the next few hours."
Diana chuckles and kisses me once more. "Who would've thought," she begins, pulling a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Bruce Wayne is now a married man."
I nod and smile. "I can't believe you married me," I say. "I don't know what I did, but I love you more than you know." I kiss her once more and she lets out an appreciative moan, running her fingers through my hair.
"I know, Bruce," she says, "I know. And I love you too."
We continue to talk, stealing sweet kisses and tender caresses for the next twenty minutes, trying to stay hidden for as long as possible. I know it is our wedding, but I would love nothing more than to stay here all night with my wife. Unfortunately it isn't in the cards, as Alfred sneaks up to where we stand, startling the two of us.
"There you are," he says, forcing both Diana and I to freeze. "Mr. Queen is looking for you, Master Bruce," he says, raising an eyebrow and I chuckle.
"Of course he is," I whisper. "Tell him I will talk to him later, but he is welcome."
"Of course, Master Wayne," he says.
I can feel Diana staring at me. "Bruce," she says, "what did you do?"
I glance at my wife over my shoulder and shrug. "I may have called Dinah and invited her under the guise that Ollie wanted to rekindle their relationship."
"Bruce Wayne," Diana says in shock. "You did not-"
"He's in love with her Di," I explain. "And he's being an idiot and doesn't realize just how much she loves him. If someone were to have made me realize what an idiot I was being in college denying my feelings for you, we would never have missed out on all those years. I don't want that to happen to him."
Her face softens when she hears my explanation. She knows I would never purposefully meddle in my friend's business, but I can't let him make the same mistake I made all those years ago. And what a better place to realize you love someone than at a wedding.
"You cease to amaze me," she says with a wide smile, placing a kiss on the top of my jawline as she wraps her arms around me and places a head on my chest.
My arms wrap around her and I turn to Alfred, who is still watching us with a wide smile. "We'll be right out," I say, promising not to keep our guests waiting much longer.
Alfred nods and turns to walk to the ballroom, stopping only to say, "And the arrangements for tonight have been made." With that he walks away leaving me and my wife alone for a few more moments.
"What arrangements?" Diana asks once Alfred is gone. "We're not leaving for Switzerland until tomorrow," she reminds me.
I give her a small shrug, even though I know I'm seconds away from explaining-it's a habit "We're not staying here tonight," I say.
"And why is that?"
Once again I shrug my shoulders. "Do you really want to spend our wedding night in the room across the hall from your mother?"
She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head adamantly. "No, no," she says, "you're right, and smart." She gives me a sly smirk and kisses me softly. "But we do need to get back to our guests."
She pulls my hand and I let out a small groan, disappointed that my alone time with Diana has been cut short. "Okay, okay," I say, "but tonight you're all mine."
"Of course, Mr. Wayne," she responds. "Let's go."
"Yes, Mrs. Wayne," I say with a smirk, as I loop my arms in hers and walk toward the ballroom with my wife, unable to help the smile on my face when I realize I am one lucky man.
@fyeahwonderbat
Well I could end it here, or I could do one more chapter with "the morning after". Let me know :)
13 notes
·
View notes
Note
A prompt! Etta Candy/Diana Prince, bed-sharing.
(Also on AO3.)
“Oh!” Etta says, coming to a sudden stop on the threshold of the room they rented for the night. There’s only one bed. That's… That’s not good.
She turns to go back downstairs, but thinks better of it almost immediately: Etta is better than this. She all but ran Britain’s War Ministry during the Great War; she faced down foreign agents with a sword; she was the personal secretary, however unwittingly, to a god. And Miss Diana Prince, Princess of Themyscira, chose her, Etta Candy, as her traveling companion! Etta will not be intimidated by a mere bed.
She squares her shoulders, turns back–
And stops again, because really, no, sharing a bed with Diana is just too much. Discretion and valour and all that. She pivots on her heel to retreat, but–
“Oh!” she exclaims again, because Diana has come up close behind her, and now Etta is face-to-face with her breasts. Well, not really face-to-face, more face-to-fur, but that is even worse, because now Etta is thinking about fur muffs and the last time she was face-first–
She pivots sharply on her heel again, and there is the bed.
This is the way Etta is going to die: trapped between a bed and Diana Prince’s breasts.
“What is it?” Diana asks, sidestepping past her like a woman who has never once in her life been stymied by a revolving door.
The fur of her cape brushes past Etta’s face – fur and soft and tall and oh, the smell of that woman, that is what it must be to be a literal goddess, to never stink of travel and perspiration – and Etta revises her opinion: this is how she’s going to die. Here, in this doorway, Diana’s voice low and kind and throaty in her ears.
“Etta?” Diana asks, and Etta blinks her eyes open. Diana is standing in the small space between the door and the bed, her face beautifully creased in a slight frown of concern.
Etta stifles the urge to dootle-de-doo away her discomfort. “There’s only the one…” Her vague gesture doesn’t seem to enlighten Diana in the least. “There’s only one… bed.”
Diana turns to frown at the offending furnishing. “It is large enough for two.”
And isn’t that just the problem? Etta plasters on a bright, determined smile. “I’ll just take the floor then, shall I?”
Diana’s head tilts. “Do you enjoy the floor?”
Etta makes a cheery but noncommittal noise. Even if one could lie to Diana Prince – and Etta isn’t entirely sure she could – the woman conducts her life with such unflinching honesty that it seems unkind, unsporting even, to meet her with anything but the same.
And yet there are still secrets Etta would rather keep for herself. For example, how overwhelming Etta would find it to share a bed with Diana, how much Etta craves it, and how little she dares to hope for it.
“Because I don’t enjoy the floor,” Diana continues. “The floor is cold and hard and lonely. The bed will be none of those things.” And then, because Diana is apparently determined to kill Etta, she adds, “Especially with you to share it with me.”
Diana’s voice is as low and gravelly as if she had just woken after a long night of muff-eating. If Etta didn’t know the woman sounded like that all the damned time, Etta might even believe there was a proposition in there.
“Etta?” Diana asks again, her smile intimate and warm. Oh, yes, this is definitely how Etta will die.
“Erm,” Etta says, intelligently.
Diana’s face falls. “Oh. I see.” She turns away, removes her cape, her weapons. “Steve also was reluctant to sleep with me.”
Etta’s stomach twists in a surprised knot of laughter and grief, because she just bets he was, and also, Steve.
“There is a… taboo?” Diana asks, still doggedly trying to work out Etta’s reluctance to share the bed.
“Ah, no,” Etta hastens to clarify. “Well, not between two women sharing a bed. Not usually.” And dootle-de-doooooo, Etta flies right past that. “But with a man and a woman, yes, definitely, it isn’t done. Or shouldn’t be. Steve was trying to protect your honour. Probably.”
“My honour,” Diana says, amused. She sits on the bed and unbuckles her greaves. There are bald patches on her legs where her armour has worn away the hair. “And are you trying to protect my honour, Etta?”
Etta grimaces. It’d be fairer to say that it’s her own honour she’s protecting. Or, at the very least, her self-respect.
“My honour lies in my sword, and in my open hand,” Diana says, undoing the rest of her armour, buckles and clips and straps, stripping down to the light cotton shift she wears beneath. “It lies in when I choose to speak, and for whom. My honour does not lie with whom I share a bed.” She pauses, considering Etta. “Unless, perhaps, I attempt to share a bed with someone who does not wish to share with me.”
Oh, crikey, but does Diana have it wrong. “No, that’s not… Of course I…”
But Diana is already standing and spreading her cape next to the bed. “I’ll take the floor.”
The last thing Etta wants is to see Diana sleeping on the floor because of Etta’s cowardice. “No! I’ll take the floor! You can’t sleep on a floor, you…” She’s a princess and also a goddess, but Diana would accept neither of those reasons. Etta gestures helplessly at Diana, golden and strong and perfect. “Your bones are all. Um.”
Diana looks at her quizzically, waiting for the end of that thought.
Etta gives up and strikes a pose. She gestures lavishly down her frame, as if she’s modeling the latest fashions. “Whereas I have all this natural cushioning! See? All soft and comfy on the floor.”
Diana blinks, then bursts into incredulous laughter. “Did you just call me bony? No, no, you can’t take that back! Now I have to sleep on the floor,” she teases, stepping into the circle of her cape. She sits, tugs the fur up around her shoulders. “If I share the bed with you, I might injure you with my sharp bones.” She grins up at Etta.
“Oh, lordy, I didn’t mean… But you don’t like the floor. You just said! The floor is hard and cold and lonely!”
Diana pokes at her knee, the jut of her hipbone, all the places where her bones run close to the surface, obviously amused by the idea of being fragile. “Well, yes. But it’s not going to hurt me.” She glances up and sees Etta’s expression. “Oh, Etta, don’t fret, it’s fine. It takes far more than a floor to hurt me. And I don’t get cold, not really. As for lonely…” The smile is still there, but it’s gone brave and wistful. She shrugs. “I’ve been lonely since Themyscira.”
Oh, fudge. She will most definitely die here, but she is Etta Candy, and she chooses to die a soldier’s death.
She marches to the bed, plucks up the pillows, and drops them on the floor next to Diana, who looks up in surprise. Etta kicks off her shoes, then kneels down heavily on the fur cape. She gestures for Diana to move over. “Well go on, make space for me.”
“What are you…?”
“Sleeping with you,” Etta huffs, and manhandles a bewildered Diana until they’re curled up together on the floor, Etta spooned around Diana’s back. There isn’t enough cape to wrap around them both, but with Diana against her front and a curl of the fur pulled around her back, Etta is warm enough. And Diana says she never gets cold, so that’s fine.
“You’re not going to change?” Diana asks. On other nights, she has teased Etta about her voluminous nightgown.
“I’m fine, go to sleep.”
“But I took off my armour,” Diana complains, and Etta would swear she is pouting. Nevertheless, Diana snuggles back into Etta’s body, a series of small, worming movements until the fit between their bodies is perfect. Diana tangles her fingers with Etta’s, lifts her hand and kisses her knuckles. Her heart stuttering, Etta returns the kiss against Diana’s shoulder blade. That’s as high as Etta can reach; even laying down, Diana is very tall.
“Etta?” Diana asks, a little while later.
“Can’t talk, sleeping,” Etta says into Diana’s back. It is a lie; she is most definitely not sleeping. She can’t even imagine sleeping.
Diana giggles, and if Etta hadn’t already been gone for this woman, she would be now. “That was a lie. You’re lying,” Diana scolds, but Etta determinedly doesn’t respond. Her mission tonight is to hold Diana until she’s not lonely anymore. Etta will certainly be dead by morning, but she will have earned her place in Valhalla.
“Etta,” Diana tries again. “Is there a reason we’re on the floor?”
“Yes,” Etta responds immediately, hoping to put enough conviction into the answer to spare her having to discuss it.
A minute passes, long enough for Etta to believe her hopes have been realised.
“Is it a good reason?” Diana asks.
Etta doesn’t answer.
“I only ask because…” Diana turns herself over in Etta’s arms, a series of flops in place, like a beached sea-mammal, and Etta is gratified to know that not even Diana can make that maneuver look graceful. Etta’s gratitude is short-lived, however, because Diana takes Etta’s face in her hands and kisses her gently on the lips.
Etta’s brain whites out.
“…because while I am not cold,” Diana is saying, “and neither am I lonely, the floor is still hard, and I am still bony.” Diana puts a hand on Etta’s waist. Her fingers trace the steel struts of Etta’s corset. “Also, I think you will be more comfortable without your armour. But if you prefer to sleep here, like this, then I am content, too.” Diana’s smile is pure grace.
Wondering at herself, Etta reaches up and kisses that smile. Diana kisses back with the same heartfelt sincerity that she pours into everything.
Perhaps Etta will die here tonight, but it will only be a little death. Perhaps even many of them. And Etta will not die alone: Diana has always been firm that a general should die with her soldiers.
Etta heaves Diana up to lie on top of her. She can’t breathe from the combined pressure of her corset and Diana’s weight, but Etta is no longer afraid of death. “See? Soft and comfy,” Etta says, then winces as Diana’s hipbone juts into her thigh. “Okay, yes, I think maybe the bed–”
“Will be warm and soft and not at all lonely,” Diana agrees, and pushing herself upright, she reaches down to hand Etta up from the floor.
#etta candy#diana prince#diana of themyscira#wonder woman#wondercandy#etta candy's last stand#things done by me#phoenixfalls
153 notes
·
View notes