#he was severely touched starved as a kid and young adult

[adrift-in-thyme]

Time’s primary love language is touch

[psychologeek]

Holocaust (and culture appropriation)

(TW: holocaust, death camps, sexual assaults, rape, industrial murder. I will put the graphic shit undercut. Include children death and human experiments).

Sometimes I think about how fucked up it is that for most non-jews (and some jews) "The Holocaust" is Anne Frank and Auschwitz "where they killed people".

I think about the fucking, the goddamn AUDACITY some people have to take our trauma and use it as a tool. As a lesson.

People that for them the holocaust is nothing but a story, a bunch of facts, probably as aware of it as they're aware of the crusaders.

(Once upon a time, in a far away land, there were Troubles)

People who didn't hear about it as children, who didn't grew up with six million and one-and-a-half million and yellow stars and quiet ceremony and Yizkor (remember).

That.

Would look at a pile of hats and bones and wigs and hair and make it about them.

But also

Sometimes I think about how wild it is, that this looks so horrific to them.

(And they never heard about half of it.)

Like.

Dear.

Deary.

We are used to death. We are so used to being murdered, and loosing loved ones by hate, that half of our culture is basically based on it.

I think about how non-jews keep talking about the holocaust, like it's a clean cut, like it's a thing that was, like it's that's all that was - there were people hiding, and there were gas chambers, and that's it.

And I remember being a kid (maybe 10 yo?) reading a kid/ya book that was an autobiography, and I remember the writer (who was a young teen at the time, and pretended to be a Christian German) wrote about someone came into the shower and touched him. (Writer) Panicked, and turned around - and then the other man asked him "wait- are you jewish?"

As a kid, I remember that this is all that was in it.

As an adult, I remember that scene, sometimes. And I can have a pretty clear idea on why the older man didn't tell about the kid.

I remember, several years ago, reading about a therapy group for holocaust survivors that were sexually assaulted.

I remember reading about an old lady, that (70 years later) told about what happened to her when she hide away with her sister, (I think they were two, or three girls?) she was sixteen, or maybe fourteen. I remember

"I did it so they'll share their food with us".

~

I think about people talking about the "death camp" Auschwitz, and how someone said (those who went there, were the lucky ones. When the newbies asked what happened, where are their families? We just pointed at the burning chimneys of Birkenau ,and the smoke.)

~

I remember the HUNDREDS who died once the camps were "freed", because they didn't know the dangers of eating two pieces of bread after a long period of starving.

I remember the massive Jewish community of Poland that was just. Erased. 99% of 3 million population pre-war. Whole communities we only remember and mention as the community's name (and even that is a very long list.)

I remember how people remember it as "German jews" (and some Poland) - but it's not. My grandma had cousins in Debretsen, Hungary. And it's Ukraine and France and Morocco and Greece and Lybia and Lithuania and Latvia and almost everywhere in Europe and North Africa

(except for Denmark. we love Denmark. My grandad's step-grandma survived there. She immigrated to her family in Israel after that.)

~

Idk if Goyim ever heard about Mangele. I wonder, how many of them heard during their childhood about:

The eye experiments, where he injected serums in people's (living) eyes, to see what would happen?

His obsession about twins. The toddlers that got their back skinned, then stitched together in "to see what will happen".

(They died after four days of misery.)

[marsrize]

Tim’s cat [Part 2]

Ao3: Here. | Part 1: Here. Summary : Adrien is reincarnated as a cat.  Adrien was a superhero nicknamed Cat Noir. Chosen when he was just 13 years old, he inherited his power from a ring that he always had on his finger. This ring contained a spirit called Kwami. This Kwami had the shape of a black cat with green eyes. It was an immortal creature that granted the right to the one who wore his ring, the power of destruction. To activate it, the wearer had to pronounce the words "cataclysm".

He was 16 years old when he died at the hands of his own father. Gabriel Agreste had chosen to sacrifice his son to bring back his wife Emilie. The adults in his life had not been the best.

Yet he opened his eyes again.

Everything was different.

To his surprise, Adrien was born again... as a CAT.

Strange as it may seem, Adrien was very happy with his new life as a feline. He was completely free, didn't need to go to school or middle school. He woke up at the time he wanted, went wherever he wanted... Really, he was happy.

He had learned to hunt small animals to survive. The hardest thing was not to find food, the city in which he lived and especially the neighborhood where he had established his territory was not very rich, obviously abandoned. There were rats and mice everywhere, he was not starving. The problem was rather the water. It was the hardest thing to find in the city. However, there was one spot that every stray cat knew about. Called the "white zone" by the cats, it was considered sacred. Sharing was a law.

In this place, there was a woman in a funny tight black suit who gave them food. And above all, she left several bowls of water. A normal cat did not know the language of humans. They could associate words with actions most of the time, but they didn't speak "human". This was not the case with Adrien. He understood the language of humans perfectly. He was even able to distinguish the different languages.

This woman was called "Catwoman" (a funny name). He knew she was a thief. The neighborhood cats called her " Servant ". Cats were deeply arrogant, pretentious and foul-mouthed.

Heavens... If this poor woman could hear what was being said about her...

" Damn it, these humans are incompetent, she's 15 minutes late!!! 15 MINUTES!"

"These humans... Unable to do a single job and then its asking for a reward!"

"I'M HUNGRY!"

"EAT! EAT! EAT!"

"Nope, I refuse to be touched by a human, I have my pride"

"Why do humans wear these funny things?"

"EAT!"

"Faster human!"

"MY MILK! I WANT MY MILK!"

"Guys, there's fish today!"

Adrien had a certain reputation in the neighborhood. He was not very tall, but well muscled. He still had a few scars on his body, a testament to the battles he had won.

He was the king in the neighborhood. Because of this, many cats called him "Boss".

Probably because of his former life as a superhero, Adrien did not like to see people in danger. So, he had helped many cats in the area who were in trouble. He had become a mentor to several kittens that had been abandoned... Had saved cats that were about to be caught by the pound.

But cats weren't the only ones on his list of lives to protect. Humans were also on it. The neighborhood he lived in was poor. Heavens, there were a lot of kids roaming the streets. Adrien used to steal food on a regular basis and give it to the local children. He also stole clothes to help them in the winter. He had a nice coat to protect him, but these children did not.

"Hey, look, it's the cat again!"

The children were still waiting for him.

"Thank you mister cat."

Adrien also attacked all the criminals who preyed on women in the street. It was horrible how many times he had to save young women or even young children from being assaulted in the street. What is the world coming to?

"HELP!"

"Shut up bitch-.... What the hell?! AAAAAAAH!"

Adrien was still aiming for the eyes. ALWAYS. That was the weak point of humans. They couldn't reach him if they couldn't see him. His second attack was the calves and wrists. This was the best way to make a criminal drop his weapon. The sneak attack wasn't bad. He would bite at the back of the neck and claw with all his might at his opponent's back.

They had no chance against him.

He also prevented robberies when he could. Especially against old people. It was cowardly to attack someone who couldn't defend themselves!

Since he started these attacks, he had a certain reputation among the "humans" too. Many people fed him. Others tried to catch him by luring him into their homes. Finally, there were those who wanted to kill him (mostly thugs). He had already been shot several times, no one had ever managed to hit him because Adrien was fast... But these were scary experiences.

Adrien's life changed completely the day there was a big storm.

It was a cold and wet evening. It was raining.

Adrien hated the rain; it reminded him of the day he died as a human. It was also a stormy day.

He was particularly terrified of the sound of thunder. That evening, he ran away terrified by the noise. When he realized what he was doing, it was already too late.

He was in a neighborhood he didn't know at all, soaked and hungry.

He had to find a safe place and fast!

At first, he hides under a car and ends up falling asleep. The problem is that the next morning, the owner of the car chases him away. As he leaves, Adrien realizes that it is a luxury car. As he walks around the neighborhood, he realizes that he is in a residential area. He had never been to this place.

The problem is that there were a lot of families with dogs in this area and he kept getting chased all day. He was exhausted. He had climbed a tree to take refuge. It was the only house that seemed to be abandoned. The garden was in a bad state and all the doors were closed.

As evening fell, Adrien was hungry but didn't know what to do to get something to eat. At least where he lived before, there were rats, mice and birds. But in this neighborhood? Nothing at all. The birds were probably scared of the kids.

Adrien was feeling desperate and alone. He didn't know anyone in the neighborhood, and he didn't have any food or water. He tried to think of a way to find some food but he didn't know where to start. As he sat in the tree, he started to feel more and more hopeless.

Suddenly, he heard a noise coming from the abandoned house. He looked down and saw a man (at least it looked like a man) enter through the back door.

The man left the window door open. Curious, Adrien decided to take a look at what the man was doing. Maybe he was a thief. When he came down from his perch to get closer to the window, he noticed that the man was dressed in strange clothes.

The more he observed, the more he realized that this outfit reminded him a lot of that heroine in his previous life, named Sparrow.

Was this human one of those Gotham vigilantes?

How likely was it for him to run into a superhero?

Maybe it was fate?

Adrien entered the house discreetly. He waited for the man to leave the room to examine the interior.

This man was rich.

The house may have been abandoned on the outside, but the inside was beautiful, even if a bit minimalist for his taste.

And above all.... There was food!

 Two weeks later.

Adrien had been living in the house for a while in hiding. He soon realized that it was not a man who lived in this house but a kid. He was certainly not of age.

The life of this boy was chaotic. He did not take care of himself. Hell, he hadn't even noticed that food was missing!

Adrien thought that it was definitely fate that had sent him to this neighborhood. This kid needed someone to watch over him.

“Well, I decided. From now on, this is my house!”

[theyoutubedork]

“I’m always gonna worry about you, I love you too much not too,”

Masterlist

The one where you get the vaccine, and boyfriend!Harry comforts you when you get really bad side effects.

Trigger warning: COVID times, pain, mentions of needles, and LOTS AND LOTS OF FLUFF

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

A/N: ok, so I haven’t written anything for tumblr in a while, I’ve been writing on wattpad a little, but I’m lacking inspiration on that front, so I’ve been flocking to Tumblr once again. Instead of finding inspiration for the story I’m writing on wattpad, I’m gonna just completely procrastinate and write something entirely new instead. Obviously my brain has the best ideas so here we are.

WARNING: (PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING)

this is based off of my personal experience with getting the jenssen (Johnson and Johnson) vaccine, which is what inspired me to write this story. I had a very tough go with the side effects of the vaccine. I’m fine now and I am not saying that you shouldn’t get this vaccine. Obviously this is a slightly dramatized version so that it is easier for you guys to understand. These side effects only lasted for a few hours within the first 24 hour period of getting this vaccine, which is very common and likely to happen. It just knocked me for a bit of a loop, that’s all. The amount of pain I experienced was something that I was willing to go through so I can get vaccinated. It is was very much worth it. Please get vaccinated, and please be safe.

——————————————————————————

As soon as you walk through the door, you see Harry’s head spring up from behind the couch. His hair is slightly messy, evidence of one of his random, mid-day naps. His eyes immediately soften, looking at your face, which is twisted from the small discomfort you felt in your arm. You had to go alone because the vaccination site had told you so, and you didn’t want Harry to wait for you in the heat for god knows how long. Harry immediately gets up and gives you a tight embrace as soon as you put your belongings onto the kitchen counter. He lets out a quick sigh of content, being a bit more touch-starved lately, which he doesn’t really know the reason for. He finally brings his head from the crook of your neck, and melts at the sight of your adorable puppy-eyed stare.

“How did it go? I was so worried about you love, wish I could’ve been there to hold your hand,” he coos. His hand pets your head, trying to soothe you from any remaining nervousness, which admittedly, you still were. He knew that you severely disliked needles, especially when getting shots. Doesn’t matter whether it’s a flu shot or blood work, you always had to have your head turned away. Thankfully you aren’t nearly as bad as you used to be. When your were younger, you would scream and cry. There was even one time when you were super young, that an extra nurse had to hold you down like a stereotypical psycho-medical horror film. Screaming bloody murder just for protection against measles. Eventually you grew out of that phase, only having to have your mother rub her hand on your back to try and distract you.

Your mother did that a lot actually. Whenever you were upset, she would always give some sort of physical contact to remind you that she was there. Her most common ways of this type of affection was either rubbing your back or circling her thumb on the back of your palm. However, if you would get hysterical, she would even put her hand on your head and scratch your scalp or even run her finger along the bridge of your nose. She learned this from one of you day-care teachers, who used this tactic to make you finally fall sleep during nap time. Upon reflection, it definitely could seem strange to others, but for some reason your mother always calmed you down with these methods, even when you became an adult. Obviously she doesn’t do this nearly as often, given that you can control your emotions better than you could when you were a kid, and the fact you didn’t live with her anymore.

You are pulled out of your thoughts when Harry wraps his arm around your side to bring you closer. You immediately wince as his arm wrapped around your left arm, squeezing it tightly, making the arm already more sore.

“Harry, my arm,” you mutter, and he quickly lets go, scanning over your features quickly to make sure you weren’t in pain. After you give him a goofy smile, he chuckles and gives you a small peck on the lips.

“Sorry love, didn’t mean to hurt you.” He murmurs, pinching your cheek before grabbing your hand.

“Well now that you’re home, we can finally start that show you wanted to watch. I already went to the store and got you some stuff, just in case you get any side effects.” He rambles excitedly, plopping onto the couch before dragging you down towards him, your limbs already entangled with his. He adjusts slowly, making sure your left arm isn’t pressing up against anything too harshly. He pulls a blanket hanging on the backside of the couch over the two of you. You don’t let this distract you from giving him a narrow-eyed look due to his last statement. He sighs, noticing this,

“I know-“ he starts but you interrupt him,

“It’s very sweet that you went out and got stuff for me, but you know I don’t like if when you go out by yourself.” You say, tracing your fingers over his anchor tattoo as you continue, “But, you are an independent young man, who can do whatever he wants, so just text me before you go out and do that stuff ok? Don’t want anything bad happening to you,” you say softly, looking up at him with a worried look. He lets out a small “aww” as he grabs your hand, bringing it up to his lips, peppering small kisses on your knuckles before he looks at you with loving eyes.

“I know, you’re right, but you don’t have to worry about me love,” he says, wrapping his hand lightly around your neck, pulling your head closer so he could give you a small kiss on the forehead. You rest your head on his chest, facing towards the tv. You pick up the remote off the coffee table, turning on the TV to start scrolling though Netflix.

“I’m always gonna worry about you, I love you too much not to,” you say somewhat absentmindedly, since this was something you say to Harry all the time. He constantly begged you not to worry about him, and you always say there is no possible way you could not worry about him. Not just because he’s your celebrity boyfriend, but because obviously you will always worry about the people you love. People may see that as a bad thing, but it just means that you always want the best for the people you care about, and that you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to them.

You feel Harry’s ring-less hand, (he must’ve taken them off when he went out so he wouldn’t face any more risk of recognition; people are way too observant for their own good) find it’s way into your hair, lightly sifting through it.

‘Harry’s hands are surprisingly soft for someone who plays instruments as often as he does,’ you thought.

Ever since he found out about your mom playing with your hair, and other types of physical affection whenever you got upset, which he found adorable by the way, he had started to do the same, except at any given moment, not just when you got upset. You didn’t comment on it, but you secretly revel in it. He always was touchy-feely, but this was much more personal and intimate, and the way he pays extra attention to you makes you feel like nothing in the world could hurt you.

“You still shouldn’t worry about me so much,” he says, knowing full well that he will never be able to stop you. He knows that you worry about him for the obvious reasons, and that you would honestly be a bad girlfriend if you didn’t. He is one of the most famous people in the world, at least according to famousbirthdays.com.

After a few minutes of silence you hear Harry speak again,

“You know you’re the best girlfriend in the world right?” Harry says cutely, curling a strand of your hair around his fingers.

You let out a small laugh. He asked you this all the time, as if he never asked you the question before. You always brush off this comment, and this time is no different.

“No I am not,” you scoff, selecting play on the screen, the Netflix logo filling the screen. You feel Harry tug on your hair enough so he could make you look at him. This action makes your face heat up like the surface of the sun, making you try to look away from him.

“Look at me, love,” he whispers and you reluctantly comply. You see him with a tight lipped smile that rested below the apples in his cheeks. His eyes were slightly closed from how much he was smiling.

“I mean it, I know I tell you all the time, but you really are the best girlfriend in the world, you’re always so worried about me, making sure I’m ok,” he firmly states, scooping your stray baby hairs out of your face, “you’re like my bodyguard,” he chuckles. You raise a teasing eyebrow and he begins to laugh a little harder at your expression.

“Hey! You are like, the cutest bodyguard I’ve ever had,” you let out a small giggle at this, making Harry smile even wider.

“Damn right, I’ll kick everybody’s ass just for you babe,” you chuckle, air-punching the air aimlessly. Harry laughs loudly at this, giving you a peck on the head.

“I know you will, lovie,”

*

*

*

Later on in the evening, Harry had finished making dinner, and you were sprawled out on the couch. You usually would be in the kitchen with him, but for some reason you just didn’t want to move. Harry didn’t pay any mind, knowing that the vaccine you got was a single shot, meaning it was going to be a more potent dose. This also meant that you would probably be experiencing more severe symptoms than he did when he had gotten his two shot vaccine. He wanted you to get the same one as him, but he knew that the place you were setting up your appointment only had the single shot doses, and that you didn’t want to have to go through two rounds of needles.

He was only away for 25 minutes, so when he rounded the corner to enter the living room, to say that he was concerned was an understatement. He saw you, sprawled on the couch, your face scrunched together in pain as you tried to get comfortable. Your chest was heaving up and down at a not so steady pace. He set the plates in his hands on the coffee table before crouching down to make his face level with yours.

“You ok lovie? Dinner’s ready,” he said in a hushed tone, placing his hand on your forehead to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. However, when his hand reached your forehead, he noticed that the hair was glued to it, your forehead slightly slick with sweat. You let out a small groan of pain as your response. He immediately placed the back of his palm against your skin, not caring about your sweat. Not a fever, but not too far from one.

“Baby why didn’t you change into something a bit lighter?”

“I was going to but then I just didn’t want to get up. Or...move.” You whined. Harry’s face softened when he saw your cute little pout that you do whenever you get lazy or tired. Or both.

“Okay well do you wanna have dinner then get changed, or get changed and then have dinner?” He says.

“I wanna move as little as possible, so let’s eat dinner and then I’ll change.”

“Ok lovie...now eat before it gets cold.”

*

You were barely able to keep yourself up by the time you finished eating, and Harry immediately sprung into action. He quickly cleaned up the kitchen and put everything somewhat away before he rushed back to you. He had to catch you slightly since you were trying to make it to the bedroom before he came back.

He gingerly helped you out of your clothes and tucked you into your bed. Quickly shedding his clothes, and slowly getting into bed, trying not to dip the bed drastically. You immediately curled into his arms after he turn out the lights, and you let out small groans every once and a while.

“It’s alright angel, you probably won’t sleep super well tonight but I’ll be right next to you if you need anything. Okay lovie?” He murmurs, bringing his left arm around your waist to slowly trace circles at the bottom of your spine, soothing you greatly. You let out a small hum of understanding before nuzzling into his chest more, letting out a small sigh.

“You know you’re the best boyfriend in the world right?”

[shushiyuii]

Atlantic Runaways (Part 1)

I’m feeling a bit unmotivated today and sicky, ill do as much as i can today so in case i can’t upload much take this fic i made a while ago.

Also future parts of this au will contain noms! So just be aware of that!

Warnings: Mistreatment (Take this warning seriously please)

Words: 1.8k

When Wilbur was a young Mer, he enjoyed swimming around in the open waters, living with his pod and learning new things. But that wasn’t easy nowadays living within a cramped tank, especially being forced to perform. He was captured several years ago now, he was a full adult now, being raised in what he could barely call his home.

So many people mistreated him here, not to mention the lack of food, he was almost always starving but over the years you get used to that sort of thing, all that matters really is if you do well during your performances you get more food, and he hates it here. He really hates these humans, they’re pitiful.

He hates the crowds and how they applause after doing a single flip, his trainer seems to agree on that. He always scowls whenever he hears those cheers, but it wasn’t like he’s on Wilbur’s good side, he was just as bad as the people who watched his suffering.

He was one of the ones who caused his suffering. Treating as if he were any less than him, paying no kindness or compassion, the lack of food, if he performed one-trick incorrectly, he would not get any dinner, he hated this place.

Back in the ocean, things were so much easier, so much more space, freedom, family and everything. Now he sat at the bottom of the tank, his cave barely fitting half of his body, his hunger craved food, sometimes he even thought of eating humans but if he wanted any chance of escape, it would probably be best not to do so.

He sighed; he couldn’t even see the stars anymore as he was moved to indoors, only going outside for outdoor performances. It just led to even less space, this place for Wilbur was hell, they didn’t even know he resembled a human, being sentient and able to speak.

Meanwhile, with TommyInnit, he was having the best moments of his life. He had recently finished a course on Marine biology and was now on his to becoming an intern for L’manburgs most famous water park!

He would be able to work with sea creatures! He could study them, communicate and understand them! He had applied for the position a while ago and well got accepted!

“Dear Tommy Danger Kraken Innit,

We are happy to announce that you are now a part of the team! Welcome to L’manburg Water Park! With your help, we’ll rescue all sorts of sea creatures, learn new things about them and even perform with them! We hope you’re as excited as we are!

Please come to the park on Monday morning, once you arrive at the receptionist desk, state your name and we’ll show you around the park and how everything works! We hope to see you soon! – Staff”.

Tommy was so excited he yelled at the top of his lungs! Jumping with joy! He would finally accomplish his dream! He could work with sea animals! He was so excited to tell Tubbo! He immediately ran over to his phone to call him.

Once the phone picked up there was groaning on the other side, he had woken up Tubbo. “Pft, Did I wake you, Big man?”. He groaned in response to that, “What do you want, Toms?”. “Well~,” he said dragging out the ‘L’, “I’ve got big news, Big man! I got accepted for the internship!”.

Tubbo woke up at the fact, gasping in excitement “Really man?! Oh, that’s great! I’m so happy for you, man!”.  Tubbo exclaimed. “When do you start?”. “Next Monday, actually! I’m really looking forward to it!”.

The next couple of days went by quickly, and then Tommy’s alarm went off, he rushed downstairs and ate his breakfast as fast as possible. His dad was surprised with how excited he was, insisting that they go immediately, pushing him out the door, it was the most excited he’s seen Tommy in ages, it made him happy.

He soon arrived at the park, he tried to walk calmly towards the reception, but he practically sprinted towards the reception. Many people were lined up to visit the park, but he walked right past them, gaining multiple stares. The busy receptionist looked towards Tommy, smiled sweetly and asked, “How may I help you?”.

“Hey I’m Tommy! I’m here for the internship”. “OH! Of course!”. The receptionist got up from their desk and went towards a draw and pulled out a couple of things, some papers and a wet suit. “Here’s your suit! If the size needs adjustments, please let us know! Just head behind here” They gestured to some doors,

“Just head straight away and at the second turn, the third door to the left will take you to the office where our boss will speak to you!”. He smiled and thanked the receptionist.

He took the receptionist’s directions and knocked on the office door, “Come in!” said a voice on the other side. He entered and there sat a man who looked like he meant business, with his dark brown hair and horns. “I’m Schlatt, nice to meet ya’ Kid!”. He smiled; something seemed a little off about this man, but he seemed friendly enough.

He waved back, “Have a seat”. There the two conversed about the details, safety, rules and regulations of the job. He also had to sign some papers to make the job official but now he was officially an intern! And according to this one paper, he was going to be trained under a person by the name of $*&^£, and he was going to be working with a Mer named Wilbur.

From the details of Wilbur, he was quite the large Mer, being just about over 30 ft in length. He also had a record of being docile when being worked with but wasn’t the friendliest Mer but wasn’t the most dangerous either as he hasn’t had a track record of incidents.

When asked about it, they had said “Oh, Wilbur needs some experience, and every other trainer is currently really busy with their Mers, the only ones available were those two”.

Despite that fact, he was still excited! He was going to be working with a Mer and that was a rare opportunity! He got changed into the suit and went out into the training area. There sat the trainer, he looked shady with his hair and face unkempt, covered in dirt and the strange smell. He looked very strange, with the fact that he was also smoking a cigar which probably wasn’t allowed on the job.

“Ah, you must be the newbie.”. It sounded grumpy, like his face with a scowl but it immediately changed to a cheery and upbeat attitude. “Nice to meet you Kiddo! Name’s $%^&£ and I’m pretty sure you know how to work with Mer right?”. He nodded; he had taken a Marine Biology course.

“Good, I’ll show you the Mer you’ll be working with”. They walked towards the pool, despite Wilbur’s size, it looked quite small to fit a Mer as big as Wilbur. The man then dipped his hand into the water and made a couple of splashing movements. Tommy looked towards the water, and something worked within it. A chirp could be heard in response as water splashed as Wilbur surfaced.

“Wilbur, this is the newbie I told you about, be nice”. To which he left them to be alone, and by that, he left the room entirely. He was trusting a teenager with a dangerous creature, the thought of being alone with a Mer was exciting but all the scarier with how dangerous Mer could be.

After a brief moment of silence, the Mer made eye contact with Tommy, he looked to be scowling in somewhat disgust, not only that but unhappy. “Hey there! I’m Tommy!” he tried his best to smile but the look on Wilbur’s face somewhat scared him. The Mer made a low warning growl with his fins flared and dove back into the water, not even wanting to bother with Tommy.

Tommy stood still for a second in fear but a couple of minutes later nothing besides the stillness of the water, nothing had happened. It appeared Wilbur just went back to his den. He tried calling back Wilbur, but nothing worked. And this went on for days, Wilbur only coming out for training for his upcoming performance or food.

Tommy didn’t like the look of things, his excitement for working there slowly leaving him, every day was just hoping Wilbur would communicate with him, didn’t Mers tend to bond with humans?

 Wilbur found this new human that was around, very annoying. Every day the human would try to touch or talk to him, and he wanted nothing to do with it, every time he was called, he’d just ignore it. Why should he have to communicate with something that wasn’t necessary? He’s never known this human in his life and all humans were all the same, selfish.

 It was finally performance day; he would finally get to perform with Wilbur maybe it was a chance he could bond with him! That wasn’t how the day went, it was amazing! But he just sat around keeping watch on things, he just had to feed Wilbur the occasional treat as %&*£! Did all the work. He knew he couldn’t be too mad, but he thought it would be more exciting than this.

After the show, $%*£! seemed quite pissed off with how Wilbur performed today, but Wilbur did amazing! Why was he yelling at him? Was it not up to standard? But that wasn’t quite the case, £$%!$ smelt like alcohol and his words were slurred and movements clumsily made. Wilbur seemed to notice this himself and was quite pissed off himself.

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST DO YOUR STUPID JOB YOU STUPID FISH!?”. He then slapped Wilbur in the face, Wilbur raised a claw to where he was hit but didn’t seem too affected by it. Wilbur growled in response, his face in a predatory look but he did not attempt to attack the man.

Tommy was shocked, to say the least, not only that but pissed off. Tommy always had an urge to protect, even those he wasn’t close to, but he’d still protect people who needed it.

“Hey! Who are you to hit him like that?! He didn’t do shit to you!” He yelled. £$%!* looked to Tommy with a face of pure rage, Tommy had badly pissed him off.

Wilbur dove back into the water as the two argued, it was a back-and-forth heated argument. Which eventually lead to the man trying to punch Tommy. Tommy evaded it but then he the man, made a different move, he pushed Tommy into the water.

Water filled Tommy’s lungs, the water dragging him into its depths, he tried swimming back upward but every try he couldn’t swim back up and he continued to sink. As he kept trying, a ‘swoosh’ sound filled his ears and the water moved. In his vision was Wilbur coming towards him as he lost conciseness.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

In Love and Death. Part 1

Harry Potter AU (request fic)

Summary: (set during current time) Regulus Black has made a lot of mistakes. Now he has a chance to fix the mistakes or possibly make them worse.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M- later chapters

Song at the beginning: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

_____

She knows what I think about and what I think about...one love, two mouths, one love, one house. No shirt, no blouse. Just us, you find out...

“I’m going to hell.”

It was the thought going through Regulus’ head as he looked down at your sleeping form.

“I’m going to hell and Evan is going to kick my ass from one side of the place to another but she’s worth it...always will be worth it.”

Regulus turned on his back and slammed his head down on the pillow. His life was one series of failures after another. After drowning and staying dead for a while, Regulus woke up at the bottom of the cave’s lake surrounded by actually dead inferi. As he kicked to the surface the best thing that Regulus could put together was the potion didn’t let him be fully drowned or Voldemort was really losing his touch.

Things were, even more, confusing the first time that Regulus looked at himself. He hadn’t changed. The boy looking back in the mirror was the same boy that Regulus was when he had gone to that cave in the first place.

Dead things don’t age.

His mind had supplied. Confusing was the best way to describe everything. Waking up in a different generation, finding out Sirius had gone to prison and was now on the run, and realizing the secret that he “died for” was out...Regulus had to sit quietly and take everything in. It took Sirius and Remus talking to him numerous times to get Regulus to actually speak again.

That is where you came in and shook his fucked up world some more. You were an auror and a young one at that. Before you walked into Grimmauld Place and made Regulus feel like he had been slapped on the back of the head with a book, he never had any interest in falling in love. It was too risky and he didn’t have the time nor the drive for it. Now some girl with sandy hair and bright blue eyes was making him reconsider everything that he felt about relations and Regulus had no clue who you were.

It wasn’t until Sirius introduced the two of you after seeing his brother’s expression did Regulus realize how fucked he was…Evan Rosier’s daughter...you were his fucking best friend’s daughter that had clearly grown up in the time that Regulus was dead.

Regulus had to quickly look away in order to chastise himself for even looking at you that way. It didn’t matter that you were an adult (and a very attractive adult at that). Regulus was there when you were born. Hell, he had been there when Evan turned up at Grimmauld Place the summer before 7th year freaking out because his girlfriend was pregnant. It had taken Regulus all that he had to not tell Evan that he was a fucking fool when the other boy made the comment that he was told that Emma wouldn’t get pregnant if she jumped up and down after sex. Regulus had sat there staring at Evan the whole time with a frown.

“Jumping up and down? What? Where do you get your facts? My mother, as prudish as she is, at least gave me a pamphlet on what happens. I told you not to listen to the Carrow twins!”

Regulus had to shake the thoughts from his mind as he took in your confused expression. The moment that you spoke for the first time, Regulus again felt like he had been whacked with a book.

“Sirius, I thought that you said your brother was dead?”

Sirius nodded then shrugged.

“Yes but apparently he’s not. It's kind of confusing.”

“So Supernatural dead?”

“Excuse me, but what is Supernatural and just what does this have to do with me?”

Regulus had finally started to become annoyed with wondering what the two of you were talking about. It was Sirius that had to give him the update on “pop culture.”

The next few weeks led to Regulus falling further and further in love with you. Whether it was wrong or not, he couldn’t help it.

“She won’t want me. I’m a former dark wizard. She’s an auror. What kind of fucked up joke would that be?”

Others in the Order, particularly Alastor Moody, took great pride in watching every move that Regulus made around you. Moody was not about to let one of the girls that he cared about could be harmed by someone that was on his “list” once upon a time. It didn’t matter to Moody that “to the world,” Regulus and yourself would physically make a cute couple. To someone looking in, they would assume Regulus was just some 18-year-old kid and would have a decent shot with you.

“It's best you stay away from Y/n. You are old enough to be her father. I don’t care how young you look or if you have been taking a years-long siesta...you’re a death eater and that’s what you’ll always be in my eyes. Y/n has dealt with a lot in her life. Her family has abandoned her. She doesn’t need some guy who has affiliations with those people.”

Regulus still scowled at Moody’s comment. It didn’t matter to the auror that Regulus actually provided proof that he “wasn’t bad.” To Moody, that dark mark on Regulus’ arm would always be damning evidence that he couldn’t be trusted.

To Moody’s displeasure, you agreed to go with Regulus on a several months mission to Greece. Regulus had to fight back a fit of laughter as Moody threw a fit like an overgrown child about it. It wasn’t until you came into the conversation did the elder auror cool his heels down.

All of the previous events led up to Regulus’ current situation. The two of you had been in Greece for a few days spying on what looked like was the Carrows. It was day three when you kissed him for the first time. The memory would be forever ingrained into his memory….

Regulus stood looking over the edge of the hotel balcony. After another day of watching his former friends wander around like blind idiots, Regulus was exhausted. He wasn’t a “sit back and watch” type. He would much rather just go and hex the hell out of the Carrow twins then ask for forgiveness later. The sensible side of his head, however, told him to cool his heels and calm the fuck down. If he wanted any hope of clearing his name and showing that he wasn’t a monster; going against what the Order wanted was no way to do it.

“Regulus?”

He turned at the sound of your voice calling his name. You stepped out onto the balcony with him.

“Have they done anything new?”

Regulus shook his head.

“I think Amycus will need a new liver soon. I have never seen someone drink so much.”

You laughed at the comment as you began to watch Amycus practically snog the bottle of fire whiskey. Regulus, meanwhile, kept his eyes on you. It was wrong to be looking at you like this. He bloody held you as a newborn; now he was drooling over you.

You reminded Regulus of Evan. There was the same serious expression that Evan wore 95% of the time along with his physical looks. Regulus was thankful, however, that you were nothing like the Rosier family. You were spunky and had an amusing sense of humor.

After a few moments, you turned back to the man at your side.

“Can I ask you something?”

Regulus nodded. He was trying to keep himself as closed off as possible to you. Maybe if he acted as if he wasn’t interested then you would believe him.

“Yes?”

“Don’t get mad.”

You said before standing on your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his lips.

After that, he was hooked. You didn’t kiss him again for another two days. In fact, it was Regulus that made the next move. He had spent enough time in his head going batty until he had to touch you again. To his pleasure, you didn’t fight back.

“I’m too old for you.”

Regulus mumbled between kisses. Your fingers were locked into his hair making sure that he wasn’t about to get a clean getaway.

“No one would know. We look that same age.”

“This is really fucked up. You know what I am…”

Your hand was on his lips silencing any further comment.

“What you were. Not now. I don’t care what our friends say. My family...I’m a blood traitor to them so they aren’t shocked by anything that I do anymore.”

Your moving pulled Regulus from his thoughts. He quickly closed his eyes hoping that you would think that he was still sleeping and not worrying about what was going on in his head.

“I know you're awake.”

You said with a grin. Regulus’ sighed as you wiggled your way on top of him. His grey eyes rolled up to your bright blue ones. You were used to the serious expression on his face. It was rare when you got a smile from him.

“Beautiful boy.”

You said with a smile. Regulus reached up and grabbed your hand. He gave you a raised eyebrow before bringing your hand to his lips.

“You spoil me.”

This was how the two of you had spent most mornings. The Carrows didn’t come out until typically late in the evening so that left Regulus and yourself with free time during the day.

“As I should.”

You replied, stroking your hands through his messy hair. Although neither of you had said “I love you” yet, you knew that you were in love with Regulus. This was the first time that you had felt that emotion in your life. You credited this to your parents. More like your mother, Emma. She never told you one time that she loved you or made you feel loved. You assumed that she just went crazy after your father died.

Regulus was in the same boat. He didn’t talk about his parents much. In fact, he didn’t want to talk about his childhood ever. What you knew about his childhood, you had learned from Sirius. At first, you didn’t think that Regulus would want anything to do with you. That quickly changed, however, when he realized how nice it was to have someone want him. He was as touch starved as you were! It was rather amusing how you had gone from being a girl who “didn’t need a man” to a girl who bent over backward to please the man that you were falling in love with.

You already knew that your friends wouldn’t be thrilled with the relationship. Tonks had already sent a text asking if something was going on with Regulus. You simply brushed off the question with some witty humor (but you knew Tonks wouldn’t be so easily thrown off).

“Y/n, please. The two of you have nothing in common. He’s dangerous and I think that you know it. An auror dating a former death eater isn’t a good look no matter what Regulus can do to prove his innocence. I just care about you. If Regulus can come back from the dead what’s not saying your father won’t?”

It didn’t matter how many times you told Tonks that Regulus’ waking up was most likely due to Voldemort. Your father was killed by Moody. If he came back from the dead then there was definitely some weird shit going on.

“We have to go back tomorrow.”

Regulus’ calm tone pulled you from your thoughts. He quickly pulled you back down into the bed beside him. You settled yourself against his chest as Regulus reached up to gently stroke your hair.

“I know. I’ve been dreading it.”

Regulus was quiet for a few moments.

“So do we break up and act as if nothing happened between us or are we going to go in and be ready to fight?”

Your head snapped up.

“I don’t want to break up. I want to be with you.”

The question broke your heart. You wished that things could be as easy as they appeared. To others in this hotel, Regulus and yourself looked like innocent teenagers out on a holiday. They didn’t know the “truth” but your friends would know.

Regulus took his place on top of you. His left hand had gone back to your face. Your eyes fluttered to the dark mark on his arm. Maybe you were being childish but you didn’t care about that brand on your lover’s body. He was a different man now.

“I want to be with you too. I don’t care what our so-called friends have to say. It's not going to be easy and I think you are a smart enough girl to know that.”

Regulus was relieved when you pulled him down for a kiss.

“I’ve faced a lot of bad things in my past. I’m not scared of making my friends mad. They’ll either accept it or we can go out on our own.”

Regulus sat up. Going off on your own would be a lot easier said than done. There would be no way in hell that Alastor Moody was about to let one of his aurors go off with a death eater. Alastor Moody would track Regulus down like a dog and take you away.

You were on your knees behind him in an instant. Pushing a chunk of his curls away from his face, you pressed kisses to his jawline.

“You know that is a lot easier said than done. If we go off on our own...find our own little place...it's not going to look good on your job being married to a death eater. We’ve had this conversation before, Y/n.”

Regulus stated, calmly. He could tell that you were beginning to get frustrated the moment that you pulled away from him.

“Yes, we have. No one has to know what you were. You keep your arm covered up. Besides, there are a lot of former death eaters running around just fine. Take a look at Lucius Malfoy, for example.”

Regulus rolled his eyes again.

“Yes, love, I know. Lucius Malfoy is the scary mother fucker that gets away with everything. I don’t think that I am going to be that lucky.”

You got out of bed and slipped the lace nightie that you were wearing off.

“We shouldn’t worry about things that haven’t even happened yet. Come join me in the shower.”

_______

@fairywriter-oracle

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[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

My Benrey Backstory

Okay, so I thought I might as well lay it all out. Be careful about reading this, because it will contain some DARK DARK shit. Just for that I’ll put a chance for you to opt out without seeing it. 

Still reading? Okay :D

It started when Benrey was what could be considered an infant on Xen. He didn’t look nearly as humanoid as he does when he grew older, and his hair was much more like thick black fur. He looked kind of like a mutated rodent/bug, with several hundred eyes across his fur. He had lived a rather.. adequet existence. He was still alive, purely due to instinct, but had no parents like a normal kid does. He had to learn things by himself. Is it friendly looking? No? Run. While it was similar to a animals way of thinking of things, it was far closer to how a human child would decide things.

Needless to say it wasn’t hard for the scientists to catch him, considering his way of processing threats. Humans aren’t nearly as threatening looking as the creatures on Xen. Maybe he would’ve been lucky if he wasn’t so trusting..

The first about five years of his life were spent mostly in complete isolation. They had started to catch on to his abilities, and had still not completely figured out how to stop him from doing things such as escaping by no-clipping. They still hadn’t figured out the extent of his regen either, so thankfully he wasn’t harmed AS much as he would be later on. He was still experimented on, though. During this time he met Bubby and Tommy for the first time. Tommy was ten years old, and was excited to see another young child. The more Benrey was around Tommy and the other scientists, the more he changed his appearance to be more humanoid. 

Would it not be for Tommy, he probably would’ve gotten taught not to use his sweet voice due to the way the scientists treated it. Tommy trusted Benrey, so much so that he wasn’t scared when Benrey used the sweet voice on him and he quickly realized that it was harmless and convinced the scientists to be lieniant and to let him use his sweet voice without being punished. Tommy really made things better for him, as much as he could. He’d talk to him, give him gifts, and try to make him feel as comfortable as possible. But he was still a ten year old, so he could only do so much...

During the first few years, Benrey tried to initiate hugs a lot or hold the scientists hands like any normal kid but they always jolted back like they got electrocuted. The only time they would touch him was for experiments, and not without gloves and or medical suits on. Tommy gave him all the hugs he could, but he only visited for a few hours a couple of days a week. Eventually Benrey stopped trying, and it led to him being severly touch starved as an adult. 

He learned how to talk from the multiplayer video games Tommy gave him, and that was also how he learned to read. The scientists had no intention of teaching him anything, since he wasn’t human they didn’t deem it necessary. As he grew older, the testing got more severe. They would drug his food to analyze the effects it had on him every week, sometimes multiple times a week. This happened so often that after several months he stopped eating at all, and wouldn’t explain why. Even to Tommy.

During this he had been breaking out to see Gordon and play around, but he was eventually caught and they restricted his powers so he couldn’t leave. After this, also came the pain treatments. 

They did everything you can think of pain wise: holding him under water until he almost blacked out, locking him in hot and cold environments until he passed out, shot him, and cut off his arms; they even performed vivisections on him without anesthesia. He screamed his lungs out for the first few times, until they figured out a chemical that would prevent him from speaking during the surgery. That way, he couldn’t make noise- but he could still feel everything that was happening. They had to put a muzzle on him or else the sweetvoice would get in the way. He sobbed almost constantly the entire procedure, and for hours afterwards. They never took care of the wounds they inflicted, so his clothes were always covered in blood. His room was covered in dry blood stains, and whenever he came back from the surgeries he’d throw himself onto his bed and sob until he fell unconscious. Otherwise, he never slept. When he used to sleep, they would drug and hurt him or move him somewhere different and he’d wake up strapped to a table with a muzzle on. 

This happened for years. By then he was a teenager and had adapted to his cruel treatment. He went emotionally numb and after years of being called a monster, he started to believe it and accept it as the truth. His regen was incredibly sharp due to the constant injuries he had, but that came to an end when G-Man offered him his freedom for the agreement that he would do as he says or else be returned to his life of being a test subject.

Things got better, for a while. And then the Resonance Cascade happened. When he first saw Gordon he recognized him, even if he had transitioned by then and was now a guy, which is why he annoyed him. But he hadn’t yet had any plans until after the explosion. Much like with Gordon, G-Man had periodic meetings with Benrey instructing him what to do. He layed out his plan to Benrey: he needed to play the bad guy, lead Gordon through black mesa so he could finish the “game”, be the “final boss” in Xen and die. Of course this wasn’t G-Mans only goal: he was setting Benrey up to be assumed dead so that after Xen he could be recaptured and put back into testing without Tommy interfering. 

Benrey came up with the military thing on his own. He thought it would come off as villian-y enough to be excused by G-Man, but honestly he was worried about Gordon and thought that if he was taken by the military he would be away from black mesa and he wouldn’t have to hurt him as the big boss. This, obviously, went horribly wrong. He got slightly defensive about the arm thing, though. He didn’t think it was THAT big of a deal, because he thought Gordon could regrow his limbs like he could. Tommy had to explain him that no, he couldn’t, and that arm was gone forever and Benrey felt AWFUL afterwards. As time went on he just kept doing more and more messed up shit until Gordon hated him by the end. It stung, but he knew it was better for them to hate him so they could kill him easier.

But.. they didn’t. Somehow, through his nonsensical ramblings Gordon got some string of coherence. He knew there was so much more to Benrey, there had to be, and it didn’t help that Benrey wouldn’t shoot at them and seemed to recall such fond memories with him. Gordon connected the dots as to who Benrey was, and the fact that he used to know him, and by that point Benrey was one shot away from a game over. The battle had died down drastically, and he assumed he was going to be dead. It was the only reason he was willing to tell the truth: he thought it didn’t matter, as he was going to die anyways. 

When the cave started falling apart Gordon Niceman couldn’t stand to leave him to be crushed on an alien planet. SURE, he was a dick who got his arm cut off and insulted him regularly but he still was his sort of friend! Plus Tommy would be sad. 

(because he was in denial: benrey definitely fucked up, dude. His actions were shitty, even if considering his situation they were understandable. Just- wanna clarify, he definitely not escaping blame here. He definitely was a shit head, because of the whole “doesn’t give a shit, I’m a petty asshole” thing.) 

When Gordon eventually got this information out of him, once they were living together and all that, a lot of what Benrey did made much more sense. It was heartbreaking to hear that he had such a fucked up childhood. He definitely tried to be more understanding with Benrey, and explain why he was mad knowing Benrey never had any logical discipline. Probably why he’s so childish.

Oh, and it also made Gordon much more physically affectionate. If those bastards thought he was too dangerous to touch, it was their loss. Benrey is a great cuddler.

[everyothermouse]

A lil group portrait of the time au adventuring gang!! Them <333

Basically tol fucked up as a kid and is now on the run from the law, but realized that since his life was so crazy he could live off of telling stories of his wacky adventures. When he met Jay he wanted him to come with him, and when he found out jay couldn't come cus he was virtually a demon/god/magic magnet he decided he NEEDED to bring him to capitalize on how it'd make more cool stories. And yeah it worked so since then he's been collecting wackos to aaa go crazy aaaa go stupid (and also bcus safety I numbers or whateva, pop and pip are also criminals and pastel and jay are crimes against god <3) more about each individual under the cut!

Doin them from left to right :)

Pastel: died when she was messing around with some friends and got stuck under a big rock and left to starve. But because of a fluke in the underworld her God decided to resurrect her, a right usually only belonging to saints. Because of this she's now poorly pretending that she totally did something to deserve being revived (she tells a different story every time someone asks, she thinks it's funny) to avoid being persecuted for suspected witchcraft. She met Jay when they were both drunk and they had fun fucking around in the city, and she spilled the beans to him that she was revived for no reason. She regretted it, but jay didn't kill her because even though he's religious he knew what it felt like to be magically cursed and have everyone be pissed at u for it. Also she's really funny with jay so tol begged her to come with them to add more Comedy(tm) to his memoirs

Pop: a time traveller and angel who is trying to hide both of those facts but only really succeeding at hiding the time travel thing. When they were a kid they traveled to this time with his friends Lustre and Cherrybomb, but when they were attacked by the vicious royal guard they weren't able to escape without leaving Lustre behind. Cherrybomb super repressed that memory, and while pop recovered from some minor injuries they vowed to never time travel again. Yeah they only kept that up until they were like 15, but they still couldn't bring themself to go back to when they left Lustre. But now they're 26 (well technically they're like 33 but in their time their supposed to be 26) living with their boyfriend cherrybomb and have years of time travel experience under their belt, and they're ready to go back. Except they can't go back because they created a travel block for themself by accident because of how upsetting the event was, so instead they traveled as close as they could, about 10 years in the future of the time. Now they search for any form of closure, all they need to know is what happened to their friend, and they will do whatever it takes to find this out. But angels aren't super welcome in the past, especially not with uncut wings, so it's not exactly easy for them to navigate this time period. But after a while of their search they met two lovely children (well young adults), a demon and a "cursed" (nowadays they call em spiritually gifted) and felt so bad for how much the world seemed to be against them they decided they could travel with them, just for a bit, to protect them. They tried not to get attached. They failed. They're in it for the long run now aren't they TwT also as they explore this time and learn more about the gods, they start to realize that they might... be the God of longevity???? Or at least an older version of them became them? Time travel is fucked man

Btw Lustre plays a big role in this plot, her hyper futuristic knowledge, 'blessed' white eyes, and strange God gifted clothing would all lead to him rising to a much different role than fugitive rather quickly, but they're not who this post is about ;) also I'm gonna go bottom to top for the 3 in the middle let's go

Lune: just a little guy :) lune is a young rancher/gardener who worships the God of the wood, who kind of goes missing sometimes and is lowkey the least loyal God but shhhh he loves them. Lune and tol were childhood friends (along with their pal cleo) but on one of their little excursions tol took something very important to a very powerful king, and refused to give it back. As retribution the king destroyed their entire town, and cleo put all the blame on tol, tol and lune both knew lune had to take the side against tol in order to not have the town turn on him. So yeah he moved with the town to bring up a brand new farm, long awaiting the day when tol would come home and say that things were OK and they could settle back in town together, hopefully with cleo too. That didn't happen, but tol did come back and peer pressure lune into part time adventuring with him! So yeah generally lune just runs his lil farm and prays, but when tol comes to pick him up he gets a chance to go be free to act batshit crazy, just like when he was a kid 🥰

Pipes: DEmon! One time lune and tol had a little squabble so lune was like 'im gonna get a new best friend and ur gonna regret this' and tol was like 'yeah right, u live with a bunch of criminals right now no one's gonna wanna be ur bestie dumbass' so lune just walked into a cave at night and dragged out this little nonverbal demon because demons who live alone in caves don't have high standards for friends. Even tho it was just a ploy to make tol jealous lune went super hard on it and now pipes is actually friends with the gang lmaoo

Tol: like I said with lunes, stole something important from a king as a kid, monarch got pissed, blew up the town, town got pissed at tol for it, and since then he's been on the run because he's too stubborn to give back the damn thing (they could have just attacked HIM for it, but since la queen decided to fuck with his town, his family, tol thinks he doesn't deserve to have it back.) He had to run from town to town and got into a lot of danger in his attempts at finding places to hide, but he lacks fear and tended to fight stuff off. As a kid he found that he could get enough pity to be welcomed into towns if he told people he had to fight a monster to get there, so he told stories at every town and camp he went to of his hardships. But as he got older, those he stayed with beckoned him to keep talking, and more and more people said they had heard of his adventures. And that's when when it clicked, his shining ticket to true freedom wasn't a place, it was his stories. They gave him food, shelter, fun, memories, a life. So he made it his mission to never settle down, to make his life as crazy as possible and to talk about it as much as possible, and if he ever ran out of energy to adventure, he'd spend the rest of his dying days writing and writing his entire life story. He thought this was a life he'd live alone, but one day he sought refuge in jays little lonely house because he thought it was abonded, luckily though Jay had just been praying for a second chance at life and decided that considering the timing, tol must be that second chance. So yeah jay patched him up, found out on his monthly supply route he was harboring someone very wanted, and took care of tol even harder because he didn't know or care why he was wanted, he just knew that anyone who had a drawing of them as a child on a wanted poster definitely didn't deserve it. So yeah they're besties now.

AAA I wrote out a really long description for jay but tumblr glitched and I lost it :'O ble here's a shorter rewrite cus I'm not writing out that whole thing again >:P

Jay: brought up in a church village,, he was born with the curse, which allows him to tap into magical properties very easily, and be very easily controlled, manipulated, and possessed by them. This allowed him to be very connected with his god (the god of longevity) but also meant he was often treated as a security risk and a monster by the adults of his town since he could let in evil spirits so easily. He spent most of his time praying and he became obsessed with acting on compulsions (repeated prayer, overscrubbing, scratching himself, touching religious things until he felt like he touched them "right") because he believed they were messages from God and would prevent him from becoming evil (look he was a teenager and everyone told him he was a monster his whole life leave him be.) He gets possessed twice, mage as a rep of the town is like "either have ur cursed removed or leave town forever" (uncursing is only hypothetically possible, it's hella dangerous) and he's scared itd sever his connection to his god so he leaves and he's upset bcus his entire life plan was built around his church, so now he's livin alone on a hill and leaving like once a month, he stays up there and sews and prays mostly, he sort of works on himself and becomes vaguely mentally stable, so he prays for a second chance at life since he lost his original path and needs a sign where to go, and then boom tol shows up and the rest is history. Now he has his own little family and things are going great :) other than the still getting possessed like once a week but shhhh

Pip: in between the entrance to hell and the religious central of the continent is a little town that sides with neither. They mostly fuck around and find out, and in this town lives a monster researcher and her less formal wife, pip! Pip is just a silly goofy little guy livin life, and when the crazy bunch shows up she feels like he's finally found her people :3 and for the first time the group gains a member who's begging to join them as opposed to the other way around

Ya and together they all go on wacky lil adventures with demons and monsters and monarchs and what not.

Tldr pastel is a funny lil dead guy, pop is a time traveller and the Adult of the team, lunes a lil farmer man, pipes a hobo demon they picked up off the side of the road, tols a little criminal demon adventurer, jays a religious weirdo who tol dragged out of his hermit hut, and pips an insane little guy

[gooobert]

YOUR DOMESTIC FELIX HEADCANONS. HAND EM OVER

DOMESTIC????? ;)

Alright!! SO I'll try to keep these hcs related to a unisex S/O (so you can insert any character in, like male/female [his gf, or any male/female surv]). This excludes killer dynamics bcos killer x surv just. *vomits*

But that's just my opinion ;))) when it comes to domestic Felix...

I'll take it in a couple of spins, all of which will focus on an 'after/escape The Entity' type of au. If you're also interested in a version that includes a general "pre-Entity" tidbit, I'd be more than happy to provide!! Just ask!!

In Felix's case, it's going to be something like his disappearance at Dyer Island being for a potential 1-3 years (depending on the life of this game going forward), so it's safe to assume that in all of these headcanons, his girlfriend is going to have moved on with her life, especially in regards to care for his now-alive child. You can still insert her into the headcanons if you wish, but realistically (imo), they would be separated.

Felix is actually more than understanding when it comes to his girlfriend moving on - the disappearance was something of a red flag, but authorities attributed it to a workplace accident/stress, or potentially even commitment issues - the restoration project along with the news of being a father isn’t a foreign recipe for a partner just up and disappearing. Felix's girlfriend wasn't exactly aware of his Imperiatti past - which can be summed up by the organization's secrecy, or Felix's repression of his former trauma - she never connected the dots when it came to his familiar clientele. She moved on, had their child, and even began seeing another man. Felix couldn't blame her, especially with how difficult it is to be a single parent. He feels a strong sense of empathy when it comes to that topic, especially when it was just him and his mom after his father’s disappearance.

It's not exactly clear - the whereabouts of Felix's mom, in present time - but I like to assume that he would move back into his former home, the Richter manor, and try to piece his old life back together again. He is able to regain partial custody of his child, and he is introduced to... his daughter. Before The Entity, Felix initially hoped for a son, so he could be the exact father figure he desperately needed when growing up (after all, he spent plenty of time in the realm thinking about how he would be the perfect model for his “son”), but he wouldn’t trade her for the world. It comes almost as a shock when his daughter prefers to play with more “masculine” toys and gets into a lot of the hobbies he enjoyed as a kid - especially reading/storytelling. She’s not exactly old enough to read books on her own, but Felix won’t hear the end of it unless she gets her nightly bedtime story. He fabricates fables and tales about people he met “from work,” and their various trips to foreign and unfamiliar realms. He can’t help but see the same face of wonder and skepticism that he used to have, just like when his father told him similar stories in his youth.

Felix also has this taut outlook and anxiety when it comes to raising his kid. Anybody is expected to be stressed over their first/only child, but Felix’s former worries and lack of social development drives him to be a parent that wants to teach his kid how to be independent as soon as possible; so she could have all the skills she needs when she’s older. He was privileged enough to live in a household where he never needed to cook, clean, or handle anything financial when he was growing up - everything was done by either the manor’s maids or his parents. Knowing the fear and self-doubt he had back in his early 20s, he is super serious about being there for his daughter. His other half may think he’s being a bit dramatic and a “helicopter parent” with how stressed he is, but he just wants to make sure she can hold her own in case an unfortunate circumstance ever did occur - it was an all-too-familiar threat for Felix when he was growing up; especially when he still desires to set an example for his late father.

The times when the German architect does “calm down,” he does his best to be there for his daughter. He’s got a nasty habit of spoiling her and his loved ones with gifts, despite being conscious about his wealth. Splurging on such activities/gifts gives Felix a sense of relief, where he can see his little girl raised with an innocent, positive childhood. One would assume he might be even jealous over her adolescence, but he’s just thankful he could be there physically and emotionally for his kid, and stop the painful cycle from ever reaching her. As much as Felix wishes he had his dad in his life to guide him, he takes it as a learning experience that made him stronger, and more deliberate and genuine with his parental responsibilities.

His parental approach is more about empathy and reasoning, and prefers to treat his little girl as a smaller adult rather than just a kid - he tries to soothe any of her anxieties about friends and school, but without sheltering her from the reality of the world once she’s old enough. He won’t admit it, but having her feel brave enough to confide in him with her personal issues/thoughts is his favorite part about being a father. He might have lost his father at a young age, but at least he can act as a mentor to his own child. It reminds him he’s doing the “right thing,” and this bond was what he dreamed of having in his youth. He can’t help but feel sentimental!

The Entity left Felix with more questions than answers, and as much as he wants to find out the mystery behind his dad, he decided that it was time to move on. The timeless years spent in The Fog gave him severe trauma, and he’s lucky he was able to resume a relatively normal life - a second chance to be there for his daughter and his S/O. He went into the realm to voluntarily search for his father, and he wasn’t able to uncover much during his time spent there. His partner may support him in his grief, but he’s come to understand that his feelings of loss may simply never go away - he’s just going to have to live with them. For him, his loss still feels like a fresh wound, but it’s not going to get any better than it is, currently. Felix wouldn’t consider himself hopeless, but he’s left with a sense of acceptance. He needs to be there for his new family, and he would rather be focusing on the domestic chapter in this new part of his life than reminiscing on the past. He did it long enough with The Pariahs before they disbanded, and he’d rather learn to live more in the present than caught up in the past.

If he doesn’t have custody over his kid, Felix is spending a majority of his time at work, where Lauren gladly takes him back into their architectural firm. He’s left with a lot of trauma from the trials, though, so it’s not unusual if he can’t make a business meeting or show up physically to work. He still carries his occupational responsibilities, but there’s just certain aspects of his old life that he could never get acclimated to doing again. He’s afraid of turbulence (the shaking and rumbling of the plane is too similar to the endgame collapse) and if he NEEDS to be at a business meeting/networking event, he has to leave early since the drive, of course, takes a lot longer than a flight.

When he is able to find some time alone with his other half and not feel any work pressure, they like to treat themselves to a vacation getaway! Even if it’s for a weekend, he takes holidays depending on if they need time to release some energy by doing something strenuous (skiing in the Alps) or maybe unwinding with something romantic or a new experience (wine/artisan goods). Felix isn’t the best with his words, and so he likes to show PDA to his partner when they have time together. Rather than asking, he simply does - a peck on the forehead when he gets ready in the morning, adjusting the clothing/jewelry on his spouse, or even just mindlessly rubbing/massaging his hands on their back. He knows how it feels to be touch-starved, and likes to make it a conscious effort to show his love through constant reassurances when his words fail.

[ibijau]

Worst engagement AU // on AO3

Nie Huaisang finds it's nice to have people who enjoy his company

(Part of this chapter had already been posted a while back for an ask about how the Jiang boys views nhs’s engagement. I’ve added to it and touched it up to fit the rest)

warning for canon typical underage drinking

It was so nerve wracking to stand up to Lan Xichen that as soon as he is out of view of his fiancé’s house, Nie Huaisang breaks into tears. He can’t decide if he regrets speaking so bluntly or not. He half wants to run back and go tell Lan Xichen he’s sorry, that he shouldn’t have said this, that he’ll be good again, that he’ll do his best.

He doesn’t.

He  can’t . As he’s said, he’s tried that already and it was miserable. Everything good he’s gotten in life, he got by being bold and not caring for consequences. Everything from his dear nightingale, to Lan Wangji’s good opinion, and now the company of Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian he got by doing what he wasn’t supposed to do.

He can’t grovel in front of Lan Xichen. Not now, and not ever again. Even if he’s crying now, even if he cries after every time they meet, as long as he stands strong in front of Lan Xichen then everything is fine. Besides, even if he’s sure that his behaviour will be reported to Lan Qiren and he will get a scolding for it, it was all worth it for the shock on Lan Xichen’s face. Just thinking back on it is enough to make Nie Huaisang chuckle through his tears.

Once he manages to calm down, Nie Huaisang dries the traces of his crying with his sleeves, puts on a smile, and returns to his cabin.

It’s a bit of a shock to find that Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian really stayed there and waited for him. Nie Huaisang assumed they would just return to their own cabin. Instead Wei Wuxian grins at him as if he’s truly happy to see him and waves his hand at him.

“We were starting to wonder if we should go rescue you!”

Nie Huaisang snorts as he closes the door behind him, but feels his heart beat a little faster. This is… nice. It might be selfish, but he likes the idea of his company being wanted.

“Wei gongzi, it was just a talk with my fiancé,” Nie Huaisang protests with a smile. “I was quite fine. We’ve decided that we should meet every so often, now that things are getting more concrete. He’ll be of age in just two years after all, and we might marry soon after.”

“Were you really fine?” Jiang Cheng asks, scowling at him. It seems that just his normal expression most of the time, so Nie Huaisang tries not to take it personally. At the same time, his eyes are probably a little red still from crying, so maybe Jiang Cheng is worried.

Nie Huaisang decides to laugh it off.

“Why wouldn’t I be? It really was just a small chat. But let’s talk about something more fun now, right?”

They don’t insist, but as they start discussing again an expedition to nearby Gusu to buy forbidden contraband to make their stay in the Cloud Recesses more fun, Nie Huaisang feels that everyone looks at him a little too much. He tells himself it’s just because he’s the only one who has really visited Gusu before while the others just passed through it on their way here (though Wei Wuxian did still manage to spot several interesting shops) but it might also be that he failed to hide how upset that chat with lan Xichen made him. He’ll have to hide it better in the future. 

There’s no way of being sure that they’ll all leave him behind if they realise he’s not naturally as daring and bold as them, but it’s not a risk he wants to take.

  After dinner that evening (boring, disgusting, bitter… Nie Huaisang is going to starve when he comes to live here permanently) and as they start heading back toward their cabins, Wei Wuxian grabs Nie Huaisang by the elbow and pulls him away from the other guest disciples. He’s grinning in a way that, in only a few days, Nie Huaisang has learned means he has a very awful idea to share.

“Nie gongzi, let’s trade tonight,” Wei Wuxian offers in a whisper. “We send our disciples to your cabin, and you come to ours for a bit of fun with me and Jiang Cheng.”

That breaks a number of rules, of course, and Nie Huaisang is already waiting for the fallout of his chat with lan Xichen.

“I’m not sure…”

“I am. Come on, it’ll be fun! Just bring some of those prints you’ve mentioned, alright?”

Nie Huaisang grins and gives in. Apparently, Sect Leader Jiang’s wife is a very strict woman, so it is nearly impossible for Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng to get their hands on that sort of pictures, and they get badly punished if any are found in their things. Finding release outside of dual cultivation is supposedly bad for the flow of spiritual energy, and madam Yu takes these things very seriously, especially with her son.

It makes Nie Huaisang very glad that he has so little spiritual energy himself. He can waste it if he likes, it won’t make much difference. 

With this plan agreed on, they go to their separate cabins to prepare for the night. Nie Huaisang companions don’t seem too upset that the Jiang disciples are being dumped on them. If anything, they seem as excited by the perspective of an evening without their young master as Nie Huaisang is. It’s likely that both cabins will end up doing the same sort of things, drinking and looking at forbidden pictures, but at least this way young masters and disciples can all pretend that nothing inappropriate happened. As soon as he has everything he needs, Nie Huaisang leaves the cabin and heads for the Jiangs’ one.

It is impossibly thrilling to sit down with Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, past curfew (forbidden), ready to spend the night in their cabin (forbidden), with some wine and those artful prints (both  extremely forbidden). They’re all three sitting on blankets that they threw on the floor. Well, Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng are sitting, still clinging to some vague illusion of propriety, while Wei Wuxian is lounging without a care in the world, refilling everyone’s cup with wine as often as necessary.

Giving up on being good is the best idea that Nie Huaisang has ever had in his life, and he’s so glad he’s found people ready to encourage him on the path to fun. Getting to meet these two makes it almost worth the annoyance of another year in the proximity of Lan Xichen. If not for the weekly meetings ordered by Lan Qiren, then Nie Huaisang would be quite happy with this situation.

When Wei Wuxian reveals that along with the wine, he managed to smuggle in some candies, Nie Huaisang decides that this is worth putting up with Lan Xichen. This is going to be the very best year of his life.

That sentiment lasts until the second cup of wine.

“So, you and Lan Xichen really don’t get along, uh?” Wei Wuxian asks.

Instantly, Nie Huaisang tenses. Well, he should have guessed. It’s never about him. And they were there when Lan Xichen came to pick him up for that stupid meeting they’re supposed to have, and Nie Huaisang didn’t think to hide his annoyance, and it must have been obvious that he cried, and now Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian will realise they can’t reach Lan Xichen through him, and…

“You can never trust the nice ones,” Jiang Cheng grumbles. “The better the reputation, the worst they act in private. It’s the same with Jin Zixuan honestly. He acts all high and mighty around adults, but when there’s nobody to see he’s a pest.”

Nie Huaisang chuckles nervously and reaches for his fan, although he doesn’t open it yet. “Right. Your sister too is engaged, uh? To Jin Zixuan… I mean, at least he’s not too ugly, and he has good cultivation.”

Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian groan in annoyance.

“Shijie says the same!” Wei Wuxian complains, nearly spilling his wine. “She’s always trying to defend him, even though he made her cry last time he came to visit. He said she needed to improve her cultivation before they got married or it’d be embarrassing him. Can you believe that?”

“Peacock,” Jiang Cheng hisses. “Like he deserves her anyway.”

Nie Huaisang nods, and feels himself relax a little though he still fidgets with his fan.

“It’s not like she can help it,” he says carefully. “I’ve not met her, but Mingjue says whenever he came to Lotus Piers, she gave him the impression of a very nice girl, very polite. And he’s not the sort to just say something nice without meaning it.”

That, it turns out, is the best thing Nie Huaisang could ever have said. The instant they hear their sister praised, the other two beam at him as if he’s just told them they’ve reached immortality.

“Your brother is a man of great tastes,” Wei Wuxian proclaims, downing another cup of wine. “You know what? We should work on breaking the engagement between Shijie and that peacock, and see if she can’t marry your brother instead. That way she’ll get a good husband, and your sect gets a good alliance, and so you don’t need to marry some stuffy old Lan kid!”

“Wei gongzi, don’t go tempting me,” Nie Huaisang sighs. “I can’t start dreaming like that!”

Wei Wuxian laughs, and pour some more wine for all of them while Jiang Cheng, by far the one who’s had the least to drink, watches Nie Huaisang like a hawk.

“So it’s not just an impression, you don’t get along with Lan Xichen,” he says. “We’d heard some of the disciples who came here last year say it, but I figured maybe they just misunderstood.”

Nie Huaisang hesitates. This alliance between Qinghe Nie and Gusu Lan is important, and while Yunmeng Jiang is friendly now, they have their own alliance with Lanling Jin, who in turn everyone knows would never have the guts to turn against Qishan Wen. It’s important to make it look like Qinghe and Gusu have strong links, it’s important to make it seem like his future marriage is as certain as the rising sun and the winter snows.

If it ever reaches Nie Mingjue’s ears, Nie Huaisang will blame the wine. But he’s decided already that he was done pretending, and for this too he can take a leap of faith, show a little courage. Politics are politics but he likes Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, who seem to like him back and… and it’d be nice to be pitied a little.

“Your sister isn’t the only one whose cultivation is deemed unsatisfactory,” he admits. “And of course, Lan gongzi isn’t wrong about me. I don’t have a great cultivation level.”

“But you have great porn,” Wei Wuxian retorts, as if somehow, that compensates the rest. “And you’re pretty fun to have around.”

“We wouldn’t have invited someone like Lan Xichen to come here,” Jiang Cheng agrees with a huff, as if it annoys him to admit that some people don’t, well, annoy him. “He’s got a good reputation for sure, and everyone admires him, but he doesn’t sound like someone you’d want to be friends with.”

Nie Huaisang grins, and sips on his wine to hide how giddy he is.

He’s really going to enjoy becoming friends with those two over the months to come.

[aeide-thea]

This is a gentle request for any Geraskier fics you want to rec, because the number of them in the tag is a bit overwhelming but I KNOW there are gems in there 👀

i’m pretty sure i’ve reblogged things in the past! but it’s true that i haven’t done that in any systematic way, so—let’s see. under the cut are 20-ish recs alphabetized by author, which seemed like a good way of avoiding having to make any hierarchical declarations:

o, empathy by almostnectarine/@nectarine-pit: bodyswap! i forgot how much i loved this fic. geralt and jaskier walk a mile in each other’s shoes, and learn to appreciate each other better; this is keenly observed and thought-through, and frequently extremely funny. a thoroughgoing delight.

Jaskier pulled a face and swiveled the straps such that both swords almost fell from their scabbards at once, ruining the moment. “Geralt,” he said, “this leather itches. You’ve lived five lifetimes—” “Not that old,” said Geralt, in protest, and then, considering: “Maybe three.” “—and you never once thought, hm— oh, I see why you do that all the time, it is quite fun, isn’t it— hm, maybe I’ll add a little padding?!” His mimicry of Geralt’s tone was very good, although perhaps it was cheating, when the voice was already the same.

public displays of affection by autoschediastic/@bluesoaring: geralt and jaskier go to a sex party! (not to be confused with the other fic by sospes in which geralt and jaskier go to a sex party, which is also excellent.) if that wasn’t enough of a sell, well, you confuse me, but—the flavor of the power dynamic here is a little complex and unusual in a way i enjoyed, plus frankly the description of geralt stripped down for this party is really, uh. really A Lot. i admit to being biased in favor of sex party stories in general but this one is definitely a keeper.

to you always, also by autoschediastic/@bluesoaring: in which geralt is a demanding, insatiable bottom. ...honestly, this fic has significantly more emotional weight to it than that description might suggest, but i still stand by it. also the initial setup is just really funny to me, because jaskier getting hilariously outraged by geralt’s sheer infuriating geralt-ness is, like, my fave flavor of jaskier. (that’s a lie, every flavor of jaskier is my favorite flavor of jaskier, but i do really delight in this one.)

@blossomsinthemist’s mixing memory and desire series (wip) is basically my favorite thing ever, like, just truly perfectly crafted to please me personally. it’s h/c, and just astonishingly luxuriant and languorous and lovely—or, okay, let me actually just quote a comment i left on an early chapter:

this is just so exquisitely tender and molasses-lovely-sweet so far, my god the glimpses we get dimly through geralt’s hazy bemused perception of what jaskier’s feeling are so heart-clenchingly poignant—and then of course the glimpses of what geralt himself is feeling for jaskier without understanding it, this stunned rapt gratitude for everything jaskier is doing but also everything jaskier is, the lovely gentle sturdy solicitous gift he is & keeps making of himself to geralt, who would probably call it undeserved except that of course we can see precisely what in geralt has tugged this tenderness from jaskier, this terrible aching wounded gallantry that’s so astonished to meet with respite…

the meet death sitting (wip) series by @bomberqueen17 is my other favorite thing—much plottier than the previous, with a much wider cast of characters, and while i’m ultimately in it for the geralt/jaskier and therefore being strung along in exquisite agony while all sorts of plot things get in the way of any real resolution of that, it’s honestly worth it; what you lose in immediate gratification you gain in, like, a sense that this story inhabits a real, full world, with real events that aren’t just arranged to suit our heroes’ convenience. if i could only get you to read two things it would be this series and the previous one: between them they have my heart. anyway i guess i may as well quote myself again:

it’s the rich realistic interweaving of things that’s so remarkable here, how the absolute throat-thickening aches run abruptly up against the entirely mundane and all of it has to be coped with, because that’s life, and this story has life within it, in a realer way than probably anything else in the fandom, maybe anything else i’ve read in a long time. and of course a large part of me is so, so desperate for geralt and jaskier to finally come back together, with enough time and space to settle into a mutual secure tenderness instead of the current wordless, longing, poised-always-to-spring-away-like-deer-in-a-forest situation; but the story is coaxing me into a more adult patience, an appreciation for the smaller quieter incidental pleasures that aren’t the one subsuming great love, and then also teaching me to live with the wounds one inevitably acquired along the way, the pull and ache of those that makes the whole thing real, not a shining fantasy but a homely pie with a rich satisfying filling, savory and bolstering.

my body bruises at your touch by @brawlite: jaskier gets tied up by geralt as bait for the monster of the week, and discovers he likes it quite a bit. smut (and then aftercare) ensues.

demand an encore (wip) by emamel/@theaceace: jaskier is a witcher of the viper school, or used to be. he doesn’t remember it, but geralt does.

it’s been a while since i read this, but the way the layers slowly start fitting together is really satisfying: all the joy of what i think the kids call ‘identity porn,’ with the twist that here, it’s geralt who knows both identities, and jaskier who’s still in ignorance. ugh, i want chapter 3 now.

musica universalis by flirtygaybrit is bookverse and clearly so—it’s not romantic, but there’s a particular ambiguous flavor of solicitous tenderness that elevates this ‘friendly drunken hookup’ scenario to something memorable for me.

of cherries and dandelions by heyriel: in which a still-virginal jaskier bites off more than he can chew, and tries to disguise it until he can’t anymore. as i said to the author:

this is lovely and realistic in its navigation of, like, trying to Be Cool and the ways that can sometimes get you in trouble as a young sexplorer—geralt is so good to jaskier here and i’m having feelings about it!

also geralt uses a dildo on jaskier, which was not a thing i’d known i wanted before reading this, but it turns out i’m very decidedly here for it! i haven’t seen a ton of sex toys in geraskier fic and this story makes me wish there were more.

gentle-sharp and strange by lisztful has some excellent touch-starved pining geralt, also a performatively public bath scene with very satisfactory sexual tension, also an Ancient Tradition which is maybe the thing i remember most about this fic.

i know that you would want it (if i could sink my teeth into you) by objectlesson is... look, there’s an actual emotional arc to this story, but really what i always remember about it is that it’s got the most overwhelmingly visceral rimming scene i’ve maybe ever read? it’s a lot, it’s a gift, go read it.

@pasdecoeur has several stories that are very funny with some very piercingly erotic moments! briefly sketched in some ways and more pining than porny but no less effective for it.

benefits by @shastafirecracker is a pwp story in which jaskier is first surprised to find geralt wants him to top, and then determined to give geralt the best dicking he’s ever had. jaskier’s inner dialogue in this one is really fun; geralt’s exterior dialogue is true to the show in that it’s minimal but nonetheless includes a bad pun. :)

even a small love by shecrows/@leighway is like. you think you know how things are going to go, and then jaskier balks and it abruptly swerves sideways and develops a whole plot, and then comes back around to where it started, but deeper and better. don’t you love how you can summarize a fic without saying anything meaningful or even helpful about it? anyway: read this one.

snowmelt by silklace/@silkcoeur is a/b/o and somehow both extremely hilarious and extremely hot in full measure. the banter is a fucking delight but so are the tension/sex/feelings.

It wasn’t until they were well on the road away from town that it really hit him, though possibly he should have been paying attention to the way the backs of his knees had started sweating the minute he’d seen Geralt walking towards him outside of Yennefer’s manor, or to the way his throat had gone hot and dry despite the taste of sweetness still on the back of his teeth from the wine skin he’d pilfered from her pantry on his way out. In his defense, he’d still been recovering from spending the prior evening steadfastly spitting his insides up onto his outsides. Also, he tended to always get a little sweaty around Geralt, a fact they were both apparently extremely united in assiduously pretending was not happening.

the sevenfold path by star_flaming/@europeansdomusicalsbetter: in which jaskier is demonstrably extremely well educated, and geralt has feelings about it. (i also have feelings about it, but mine are in my pants.)

you are in my blood by @suzukiblu​: au where jaskier is a bruxa. this alters his character significantly—hard to be too skittish about bloodletting when you’re a vampire!—but the story’s so engaging you probably won’t care? plus, uh, hot. :)

Jaskier’s just debating how much trouble he’s actually in when Geralt, marvelously, talks them out of it. After that, well... Jaskier still wants to eat him very badly, but he supposes it’d be a bit ungrateful of him. Geralt isn’t very impressed with the song he writes for him, unfortunately—which, rude—but doesn’t try to run off and leave him either, so.. Well, Jaskier’s a bit smitten. A delicious-smelling witcher who can talk his way out of being murdered is very impressive. And he always has wanted a pet.

taran (@iamtaran)’s manhandling without plot series has no sex but lots of violent, compellingly visceral hijinks and i like to think of it as preslash. three times geralt hauls jaskier out of trouble.

Jaskier is flat on his back with his chemise rucked up to his armpits, salve burning on his bruised ribs, breathing hard; he is drunk, but not nearly as drunk as he was when he threw that first punch; Geralt is stupidly strong and has him pinned beneath one hand and the sheer girth of his own hips, looking grumpy and short on patience, and under everything—the aromatic menthol and chamomile smell of the salve, the aching of his cheek and lip, the relief of seeing Geralt just as upright and uninjured as he had been when he left, Jaskier is… He had thought he was furious. He still is, somewhat. Like… like a seed is a flower. It was, at first, before it became something else. And given enough time it might become such again. It is what it is in the meantime, however. Fury. Seeds.

last but not least, @toyhto​ has a bunch of fics that crack me the fuck up: geralt is unbelievably oblivious to his own emotions even as he acts on them, and it’s just—it’s so, so funny. also sometimes quite sweet, and sometimes quite painful! there’s a particular air of, i don’t know, almost see-spot-run impenetrability to the writing here that lends itself perfectly to the thing the stories are doing, where geralt is just operating totally on a surface level and, like, feelings are moving in the deep but he can’t quite see them...

...and that’s all for now! more to come later, maybe; but this seems like plenty for a first pass, and anyway i’m blurbed out.

[icariahq]

Thanks for applying Lauren! We look forward to seeing Noreen around the island. Make sure to send your blog in within the next 24 hours or reach out to us if you need an extension. Aimee Carrero is now taken.

BASE APP

( AIMEE CARRERO, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ) ⌇ have you seen NOREEN GOMEZ around icaria? they are the 26 year old child of ZEUS. they remind me of the sound of the human version of coffee, lightning on a misty night, multilingual insults, and late night talks around the neighborhood. They’ve been on the island for 8 YEARS.

OOC INFO:

NAME / PRONOUNS | AGE | TIMEZONE

It me. Lucifer  / She/Her  | 30 | EST

ROLEPLAYING EXPERIENCE

To damn long

IC INFO:

Please know that all of this is to help you get to know your own character better – and to allow for easier plotting with other members!

WHO ARE YOU BRINGING TO THE ISLE?

FACECLAIM: Aimee Carrero NAME: Noreen Gomez AGE: 26 BIRTHDAY: January 31, 1994 OCCUPATION: N/A for the moment  HOMETOWN: Detroit, MI PETS: N/A… for now POWERS:

She can see and sense the electricity around her, from there she pull the electricity and turn it into small blasts of electricity she can throw at people.

BIOGRAPHY: TWs for:  Prostitution, death, drugs, addiction, child neglect

Marita Gomez was not a woman you could call kind, but damn was she beautiful. She had floated through life using her looks to get what she wanted, and while that got her money and attention it didn’t always serve to put her in a good place or have her care about anyone beyond herself.  By the time she was 18, she was one of the favorites who worked the street and pulled in money for her pimp. Sometimes she’d sleep with the clients, sometimes she’d lead them to those who could get them other black market items, she never really cared so long as she got her next hit and got her money in hand. But she was always the go-to if the cops showed up, petite little Marita could switch between looking as innocent as a lamb and as mouth-watering delicious as a stake to a starving man. 

It was that beauty that caught the King of the Gods’ attention. He swooped down from the heavens and took on the form of a human. Marita didn’t care, didn’t want to even know his name, he was just another client. Another fuck to get the drugs she wanted and the money she desired for the clothes she needed. The two had one night of passionate lovemaking before Zeus fucked off back to Mount Olympus and left a now, unknowingly pregnant, Marita. It only took two months before she was showing, three before her clientele started to change to those with a fetish for pregnancy; and by the time she had had her baby? She had grown a following of – eclectic men. 

Noreen Gomez was born addicted to coke and in a situation, no kid should be in. Until she was 5 Noreen barely had any contact with those outside of the “family” her mother had cultivated. People flitted in and out of their house, watching her grow while her mom was at work. Sometimes it was the teens from down the street who watched the baby for a small hit when Martia returned home, sometimes it was for a bit – handsier of an exchange. Other times it would be the other sex workers who would occasionally – coo and aww over the baby and other times – forget she existed until she cried for milk or a change. At 5 – well everyone assumed the child was old enough to take care of herself, they stopped caring as much. She was left home alone to make herself food, bathe and change herself and to try and keep the house – somewhat clean. That was something her mom started to expect of her when Noreen was able to walk and remember things. 

As a young kid, she worried constantly about where her next meal would come from if they had water, power, all the things kids should never think about. So when the power was shut off one day and she was home alone – it was dark out and she was terrified. Little six-year-old Noreen let out a cry that – well, she wouldn’t know for years why it worked, but the power was suddenly back on, the lights and tv flicked back to life. She never questioned it, and neither did her mother when the electricity bill stopped coming but the power… somehow stayed on. 

She started school not long after and while the teachers raised eyebrows and tossed worried looks her way – no one called CPS, no one ever came to check on the obviously neglected Noreen. She learned very early on that adults were trash, and the only people who really cared were the other kids. That was the one time she got any sort of good in her life – when she slept over at a friend’s house and could relax, and just … be a kid. 

By 10 Noreen understood how the streets operated, she understood how to get and take without getting in trouble, without getting adults to look at you twice. She understood how to run a con, how to get a bit of extra cash. Her protection? Well, it seemed like she was always a bit electrified. A bit energetic and too quick. You touched her when she wasn’t expecting it? You’d get a nice little shock. No one really questioned it – static electricity but stronger. So she generally felt safe. Most of the time. 

She had just scammed a man out of twice the amount of money the product she had was worth when she ran face-first into Jarvis. He had been shocked, both literally and physically, by a 10-year-old who seemed to have a giant wad of cash she was trying to stuff into her non-existent bra. There was a quick exchange of words and meeting of his “kids”  before she understood that she could make more and not have to worry so much if she worked for him. It’s not like her mother would care – it’s not like her mother took care of her. So she agreed and was welcomed into the fold. 

By 12 more children had joined Jarvis’ little crusade and Noreen had become known as Spark or Spitfire – mostly because of the static shocks or the words that came out of her mouth. A mixture of Spanish and English and 90% of it cursing your existence. But despite that she became a bit of a mother hen to the other kids, looking out for them and making sure they had food or a place to sleep. It’s not like her own mother cared; So Noreen took in the kids, and they slept on the pull-out couch. They were always out by 9 am (when her mother woke up and usually would start bitching), but came back each night to sleep or just have someone to talk to. 

A school friend, one not involved in the life she lived on the streets, had invited her over for a slumber party… turns out it was a surprise birthday party. But the sudden kids jumping out and yelling surprise scared Noreen enough that every light in the house arced and blew out. Before they could finish the word the city block had lost power and it was spreading. Noreen knew it was her; she could feel the sparks arcing from her fingertips to the light switch mere inches from her hand, she could see the electricity in the air. No one else seemed to notice – most just screamed because the power went out but it quickly turned into laughter and lightning candles as they got cake and settled down.  But Noreen… Noreen couldn’t stop looking around, it wasn’t just that some friends had decided to do something so nice for her, but the fact that she could register where all the electricity in the room was by sight and sound. She could hear it humming in the walls, she could see it connecting switches and lights.  

This fascination carried over into school and when she was in science class doing experiments with her lab partner it all went just a bit sideways as she tried to manipulate the electricity in her experiment… and she somehow got electrocuted, except it was bad enough she ended up at the hospital. There she was alone, there the doctors looked her over, ran a battery of tests, and realized – this poor teen was on drugs, electrocuted and no one was coming to get her. They confined her to the hospital. They called every number they could and it wasn’t until the fifth call that a woman picked up the phone. She claimed to be Noreen’s mother, that Noreen had been living with her aunt for the past year while she was away on assignment in Greece. She had “no idea” about any of this and hadn’t heard from either in a month. She had “been trying to reach them and would be on the first flight out.” 

Noreen told them she was lying, that her mother was not some weird jet setter that lived in another country but a bitch of a lady who lived in the slums. Still; they kept her they started to help her detox and get clean of all the drugs in her system. Two days in she was experiencing severe withdrawals and angry as hell. That was the day her “mother” showed up. She was a beautiful woman, sure, and they looked sort of alike, but not really. But somehow… she had all the paperwork, she knew too much to not be her mom. Noreen felt like her head was in a fog, nothing made sense anymore. She was required to stay another three days before her “mom” could take her. 

But the minute she could the two were on a plane back to Greece. The plane ride was agony and they didn’t really talk. Noreen wasn’t sure what was happening or why or who this woman was but she – also couldn’t get the questions out. So when they finally landed in Greece and she was brought to a temple she was needless to say… very confused. The next five weeks were spent in Hera’s temple with the priestesses. They cared for her and helped her get clean, they taught her meditation and how to calm herself, they took her to the doctor and got her any help they could… and within three months of that faithful day back in Detroit, she was clean. She had cravings, sure, but she now knew ways to deal with it. 

Noreen found out that the woman who had got her was in fact not her mother, but apparently her father’s wife. Hera. This was her temple. She was a Greek goddess and Noreen was the daughter of Zeus – making her a demi-god. She chalked up this weird story to withdrawal and tried to ignore it. But she realized very quickly there was no ignoring this. It made sense with the shocks her whole life, the fact she could see electricity running through the walls, see it everywhere. Hera told her she was welcome to stay so long as she helped around the temple. 

So she did. She helped clean, she learned the ways and she started back up schooling. It didn’t take long for her to make friends. Scout and Lachlan. They became the three musketeers telling one another almost everything… though even to this day she’s still not told everyone her full past. It just hurts too much to think about. But those two – they know more than anyone else. It was this level of trust that started to make Noreen open to the idea of feelings. There was Scout… her best friend who was just so damn pretty. She would watch her when the other wasn’t paying attention and just sigh. Hoping that one day – they could be more. 

But as time passed and the other never really showed much interest Noreen resigned herself to looking outside of their friend group for comfort and love. – well until the day that Scout decided she needed to have a conversation with her and – just kissed her. Needless to say, Noreen was on cloud nine and the two began dating. For years the two were happily in love, and Noreen was certain that they would one day get married. 

Hell, she had a ring picked out and everything! She was ready to go. But she knew better than to propose before Scout finished law school. She would not distract her girlfriend from that endeavor with a wedding. But Scout got more and more absorbed and slowly started fading from the relationship. She stopped wanting to go out, stopped really – even paying attention to Noreen. And after years and years of being ignored by her mother to have Scout, the one person she loved more than anything she blew up. The two argued and shouted and – Noreen stormed out. She just needed some air. Needed a moment to refocus and figure it out… and she would get it. 

Five years of thinking and air. For that night was the first kidnapping. The night that Nyx herself snatched her off the street and put her in the meadows. She was terrified, confused, and utterly unsure of what the fuck was happening. Nyx appeared with her son Weston, and they explained that they had a plan to get Zeus’s attention, that they were sorry they had to take her and she would be back once they got to talk to the man. Noreen tried to tell them that Zeus didn’t care about her, that she had only met him a couple of times, and that he was a trash god. They agreed on that part but they thought – he’d realize that one of his own was taken, that Hera was throwing a hissy fit at Noreen’s vanishment and would do something. But they underestimate the god’s willingness to care about anything other than the next lay he was going to get.

So she’s been in purgatory for five years. Honestly? She hasn’t really noticed the passage of time. It’s like she’s told people, “Time has no meaning here, 1 minute here could be an hour back on earth, 1 day a year. Or it could be 1 minute is 5 years. There are days where I felt like I’ve been here for centuries and days where it felt like five seconds. In the end, I’m here and I like it.” Instead, Noreen dedicated herself to learning how to do all manner of things, she can happily say she’s a much more well-rounded person than she had been in her teens or the last time she saw and felt the earth beneath her feet.  

Being back on earth, away from the meadows is going to be a huge transition for her. But she’s ready to see what the fuck life has in store  – and to kick her father’s ass.

ANYTHING ELSE:

CHAOS. 

[icariamusing]

CHARACTER BASICS

FACECLAIM: Liz Gillies

NAME: Noreen Gomez 

AGE: 26 

BIRTHDAY: January 31, 1994 

OCCUPATION: N/A for the moment 

HOMETOWN: Detroit, MI 

PETS: N/A… for now 

POWERS

She can see and sense the electricity around her, from there she pull the electricity and turn it into small blasts of electricity she can throw at people.

BIOGRAPHY

TWs for:  Prostitution, death, drugs, addiction, child neglect

Marita Gomez was not a woman you could call kind, but damn was she beautiful. She had floated through life using her looks to get what she wanted, and while that got her money and attention it didn’t always serve to put her in a good place or have her care about anyone beyond herself.  By the time she was 18, she was one of the favorites who worked the street and pulled in money for her pimp. Sometimes she’d sleep with the clients, sometimes she’d lead them to those who could get them other black market items, she never really cared so long as she got her next hit and got her money in hand. But she was always the go-to if the cops showed up, petite little Marita could switch between looking as innocent as a lamb and as mouth-watering delicious as a stake to a starving man.

It was that beauty that caught the King of the Gods’ attention. He swooped down from the heavens and took on the form of a human. Marita didn’t care, didn’t want to even know his name, he was just another client. Another fuck to get the drugs she wanted and the money she desired for the clothes she needed. The two had one night of passionate lovemaking before Zeus fucked off back to Mount Olympus and left a now, unknowingly pregnant, Marita. It only took two months before she was showing, three before her clientele started to change to those with a fetish for pregnancy; and by the time she had had her baby? She had grown a following of – eclectic men.

Noreen Gomez was born addicted to coke and in a situation, no kid should be in. Until she was 5 Noreen barely had any contact with those outside of the “family” her mother had cultivated. People flitted in and out of their house, watching her grow while her mom was at work. Sometimes it was the teens from down the street who watched the baby for a small hit when Martia returned home, sometimes it was for a bit – handsier of an exchange. Other times it would be the other sex workers who would occasionally – coo and aww over the baby and other times – forget she existed until she cried for milk or a change. At 5 – well everyone assumed the child was old enough to take care of herself, they stopped caring as much. She was left home alone to make herself food, bathe and change herself and to try and keep the house – somewhat clean. That was something her mom started to expect of her when Noreen was able to walk and remember things.

As a young kid, she worried constantly about where her next meal would come from if they had water, power, all the things kids should never think about. So when the power was shut off one day and she was home alone – it was dark out and she was terrified. Little six-year-old Noreen let out a cry that – well, she wouldn’t know for years why it worked, but the power was suddenly back on, the lights and tv flicked back to life. She never questioned it, and neither did her mother when the electricity bill stopped coming but the power… somehow stayed on.

She started school not long after and while the teachers raised eyebrows and tossed worried looks her way – no one called CPS, no one ever came to check on the obviously neglected Noreen. She learned very early on that adults were trash, and the only people who really cared were the other kids. That was the one time she got any sort of good in her life – when she slept over at a friend’s house and could relax, and just … be a kid.

By 10 Noreen understood how the streets operated, she understood how to get and take without getting in trouble, without getting adults to look at you twice. She understood how to run a con, how to get a bit of extra cash. Her protection? Well, it seemed like she was always a bit electrified. A bit energetic and too quick. You touched her when she wasn’t expecting it? You’d get a nice little shock. No one really questioned it – static electricity but stronger. So she generally felt safe. Most of the time.

She had just scammed a man out of twice the amount of money the product she had was worth when she ran face-first into Jarvis. He had been shocked, both literally and physically, by a 10-year-old who seemed to have a giant wad of cash she was trying to stuff into her non-existent bra. There was a quick exchange of words and meeting of his “kids”  before she understood that she could make more and not have to worry so much if she worked for him. It’s not like her mother would care – it’s not like her mother took care of her. So she agreed and was welcomed into the fold.

By 12 more children had joined Jarvis’ little crusade and Noreen had become known as Spark or Spitfire – mostly because of the static shocks or the words that came out of her mouth. A mixture of Spanish and English and 90% of it cursing your existence. But despite that she became a bit of a mother hen to the other kids, looking out for them and making sure they had food or a place to sleep. It’s not like her own mother cared; So Noreen took in the kids, and they slept on the pull-out couch. They were always out by 9 am (when her mother woke up and usually would start bitching), but came back each night to sleep or just have someone to talk to.

A school friend, one not involved in the life she lived on the streets, had invited her over for a slumber party… turns out it was a surprise birthday party. But the sudden kids jumping out and yelling surprise scared Noreen enough that every light in the house arced and blew out. Before they could finish the word the city block had lost power and it was spreading. Noreen knew it was her; she could feel the sparks arcing from her fingertips to the light switch mere inches from her hand, she could see the electricity in the air. No one else seemed to notice – most just screamed because the power went out but it quickly turned into laughter and lightning candles as they got cake and settled down.  But Noreen… Noreen couldn’t stop looking around, it wasn’t just that some friends had decided to do something so nice for her, but the fact that she could register where all the electricity in the room was by sight and sound. She could hear it humming in the walls, she could see it connecting switches and lights.  

This fascination carried over into school, she was 14,  and when she was in science class doing experiments with her lab partner it all went just a bit sideways as she tried to manipulate the electricity in her experiment… and she somehow got electrocuted, except it was bad enough she ended up at the hospital. There she was alone, there the doctors looked her over, ran a battery of tests, and realized – this poor teen was on drugs, electrocuted and no one was coming to get her. They confined her to the hospital. They called every number they could and it wasn’t until the fifth call that a woman picked up the phone. She claimed to be Noreen’s mother, that Noreen had been living with her aunt for the past year while she was away on assignment in Greece. She had “no idea” about any of this and hadn’t heard from either in a month. She had “been trying to reach them and would be on the first flight out.”

Noreen told them she was lying, that her mother was not some weird jet setter that lived in another country but a bitch of a lady who lived in the slums. Still; they kept her they started to help her detox and get clean of all the drugs in her system. Two days in she was experiencing severe withdrawals and angry as hell. That was the day her “mother” showed up. She was a beautiful woman, sure, and they looked sort of alike, but not really. But somehow… she had all the paperwork, she knew too much to not be her mom. Noreen felt like her head was in a fog, nothing made sense anymore. She was required to stay another three days before her “mom” could take her.

But the minute she could the two were on a plane back to Greece. The plane ride was agony and they didn’t really talk. Noreen wasn’t sure what was happening or why or who this woman was but she – also couldn’t get the questions out. So when they finally landed in Greece and she was brought to a temple she was needless to say… very confused. The next five weeks were spent in Hera’s temple with the priestesses. They cared for her and helped her get clean, they taught her meditation and how to calm herself, they took her to the doctor and got her any help they could… and within three months of that faithful day back in Detroit, she was clean. She had cravings, sure, but she now knew ways to deal with it.

Noreen found out that the woman who had got her was in fact not her mother, but apparently her father’s wife. Hera. This was her temple. She was a Greek goddess and Noreen was the daughter of Zeus – making her a demi-god. She chalked up this weird story to withdrawal and tried to ignore it. But she realized very quickly there was no ignoring this. It made sense with the shocks her whole life, the fact she could see electricity running through the walls, see it everywhere. Hera told her she was welcome to stay so long as she helped around the temple.

So she did. She helped clean, she learned the ways and she started back up schooling. It didn’t take long for her to make friends. Scout and Lachlan. They became the three musketeers telling one another almost everything… though even to this day she’s still not told everyone her full past. It just hurts too much to think about. But those two – they know more than anyone else. It was this level of trust that started to make Noreen open to the idea of feelings. There was Scout… her best friend who was just so damn pretty. She would watch her when the other wasn’t paying attention and just sigh. Hoping that one day – they could be more.

But as time passed and the other never really showed much interest Noreen resigned herself to looking outside of their friend group for comfort and love. – well until the day that Scout decided she needed to have a conversation with her and – just kissed her. Needless to say, Noreen was on cloud nine and the two began dating. For years the two were happily in love, and Noreen was certain that they would one day get married.

Hell, she had a ring picked out and everything! She was ready to go. But she knew better than to propose before Scout finished law school. She would not distract her girlfriend from that endeavor with a wedding. But Scout got more and more absorbed and slowly started fading from the relationship. She stopped wanting to go out, stopped really – even paying attention to Noreen. And after years and years of being ignored by her mother to have Scout, the one person she loved more than anything she blew up. The two argued and shouted and – Noreen stormed out. She just needed some air. Needed a moment to refocus and figure it out… and she would get it.

Five years of thinking and air. For that night was the first kidnapping. The night that Nyx herself snatched her off the street and put her in the meadows. She was terrified, confused, and utterly unsure of what the fuck was happening. Nyx appeared with her son Weston, and they explained that they had a plan to get Zeus’s attention, that they were sorry they had to take her and she would be back once they got to talk to the man. Noreen tried to tell them that Zeus didn’t care about her, that she had only met him a couple of times, and that he was a trash god. They agreed on that part but they thought – he’d realize that one of his own was taken, that Hera was throwing a hissy fit at Noreen’s vanishment and would do something. But they underestimate the god’s willingness to care about anything other than the next lay he was going to get.

So she’s been in purgatory for five years. Honestly? She hasn’t really noticed the passage of time. It’s like she’s told people, “Time has no meaning here, 1 minute here could be an hour back on earth, 1 day a year. Or it could be 1 minute is 5 years. There are days where I felt like I’ve been here for centuries and days where it felt like five seconds. In the end, I’m here and I like it.” Instead, Noreen dedicated herself to learning how to do all manner of things, she can happily say she’s a much more well-rounded person than she had been in her teens or the last time she saw and felt the earth beneath her feet.  

Being back on earth, away from the meadows is going to be a huge transition for her. But she’s ready to see what the fuck life has in store  – and to kick her father’s ass.

LAUREN | SHE/HER | 30 | EST

[cubanmalefootlover]

In the line of duty

How is it possible a heroic spirit inside a super ticklish body? An unflagging, tenacious soldier could have the answer…

 Corp. of the USMC Dustin Coleman looked completely different when he was off-duty and wearing his normal clothes. He’s like any average 21 years old and happy boy, trendy, outgoing, always smiling, very chatty and playful. But today he’s dressed in camouflage uniform, cap and boots because he’s been sent to this odd country at the other side of the world, too far from home. He missed his parents, friends, parties… However, he had to give his best in this mission, defrauding was not an option.

Following strict orders, Dustin and a dozen of highly trained men arrived at the city to eliminate the last remnant of terrorists in this zone, although they were ambushed and brutally attacked. After several days of bloody skirmish and chaos, Dustin and four others survivors discovered that those terrorists were actually government collaborators disguised as terrorists. A week later, Dustin opened his eyes in a supposedly hospital government, but there’s no trace of any member of his squad. Very concerned and having confirmed his suspicions of a plot, he managed to take a jeep and ran away. He had to report to his superiors about a few interesting things.

Dustin was driving through this unwelcoming land, winding around the rough path with care. The enemy had shown to be well-prepared and how perfidious they could be with foreign troops. Tired, more than twenty hours without sleeping, paranoid, thirsty and hungry, Corp. Dustin Coleman had no time to think in his own misery. Every mission was loaded with real danger and any day could be the last, but he didn’t fear for his own life.

Dustin was scanning all around with eagle eye. He was focused in the road when a twinkle made him look at the right side of the horizon. In the direction of the flicker he saw a house still standing among a few ruins of small buildings, very common in this zone of the country where remains of bombarded towns appeared in sight. Out of the blue, strange noises started coming from the jeep's engine.

-What the fuck’s going on?

He tried to ignore it and kept driving as fast as he could but as he got the level of the wrecked houses, it stalled completely.

-Great, now I'm screwed! –he grunted.

The young man jumped out of the jeep to check the engine. While he was busy in his task, he saw a large cloud of sand coming to him.

-Shit! Is this real? This isn’t happening. No, no, noo… this isn’t happenin’!

He stared at the house about five hundred of meter from him. It’s dark from soot and looked gloomy. It must be uninhabited. His soldier instinct warned him not to go, but stay in the road under the sandstorm wasn’t an option. Not a safe place to get sheltered except that wrecked house… “Damn it!” He swallowed hard and took his M16, a knife and ran toward the house.  

“Looks like nobody’s been here for a while”. He stepped forward as if he were in the battle field.

He looked at the door hesitantly. Then he pushed it and saw a family having lunch. The members of the family stopped eating and stared at the soldier in shock. Dustin aimed his M16 over them. All they stared intently till an older woman said something in their language and a twenty-something girl, probably her granddaughter, translated with anguished voice:

-Don’t hurt us, please…

Dustin stepped inside watching all around.

-We don’t have arms or anything… -spluttered the young woman.  

Dustin looked at her better; she had a small body and pretty face. When he was sure there wasn’t anyone more and no danger, he relaxed just a bit.

-Are you the only one who speaks English? –he asked her. She nodded with fear. The view of this American soldier, with those piercing eyes, aiming his powerful rifle to them got her goosebumps. He was young but looked very dominant and obviously capable to kill them all in a jiffy.  

They looked accustomed to this kind of presence and seemed harmless. Their haggard bodies and sadden faces betrayed too little strength to fight or even escape. This people had nothing to offer him except water and shelter until the sandstorm finish. He made a gesture to they continue their poor lunch. They ate two more bites and the women ran to the kitchen. Dustin followed all them the whole time. The women came back with a bunch of saucepans which placed diligently on the tattered table.

-This is for you, sir… -said the same small, pretty-faced young lady.  

-No, thanks… -he reluctantly mumbled, feeling really grateful because this people offered him their better food.  

The men had closed the windows as better as they could and now were blocking up remaining holes. It worked because the sand kept outside. The food smell filled the place; everyone was satiated except the starving soldier. Dustin was looking at the banquet with a stoic face. Poor boy, his stomach was rumbling like hell; he could eat a horse! There was no hope in the middle of the desert, above all under a sandstorm. He finally sat in a chair and started devouring ravenously: meat, vegetables, bread; local cuisine, but succulent. The members of the family stayed all together to the soldier could watch them.  

When he finished he waited in a corner close the main door. The monotone sound coming from the sandstorm acted as relaxant; he began to feel less tensed and chatted with the pretty-faced girl, the only one who spoke English. She told him her family was thanked that his troops had come to her country to help them against the terrorists. He told her everything was confused and what had happened to his squad with very little details. She told him that sometimes things are not what they seem. He sensed her last words slightly menacing, but he thought it was just his paranoid subconscious.

As he usually did when he met a cute girl whom he wouldn’t have any later relation, Dustin didn’t worry about asking her name, only things in common. She liked sports, parties and hang out with friends like him. She was apparently excited about having found her soul mate and didn’t take her big green eyes off his tall, wiry build encased in his camouflage uniform that made him look authoritative and dominant as he behaved.  

He didn’t even notice when his eyes began to close during the talk… As soon as the girl heard his snoring, every member of the family helped to carry him to a back room.

Dustin woke up with a startle. Blinking repeatedly his eyes, he noted that he was in a bedroom, probably in the same wrecked house. He tried to sit up but his wrists and ankles were strapped with thick ropes to the legs of the bed forming a big X on the mattress. The sunlight coming from the windows made him see two things: the sandstorm was over and the sunbeam angle indicated it’s been three-four hours since the jeep had stalled in the road. Next he distinguished the nine silhouettes of the family members coming out of the semidarkness. The older man said something in their language. The young cute woman approached to the bed:

-He says that this was your last food… Now you will stay here until you die.

-What?!! That’s crazy! –Dustin yelled. He struggled with all his might to no avail.

-Why did you do this to me??!!!! Are you all crazy??!!! FFUUUCK!!!

The ropes were strong enough and had been knotted properly to hold his sinewy, well-trained body in place for long time.  

-You can’t do this to me! –he roared-, I'm here to save you from the terrorists! I'm your friend! Hey you… girl… you have to help me!

The older man kept speaking angrily. Again the young pretty-faced woman deciphered:

-You will stay here until we decide how to finish you off…

Trying to not panic, Dustin managed to convince her to intercede on his behalf. Apparently she told her family exactly what he asked her to say, but they remained deaf to his arguments. The adults of the family went out of the room to talk far from the yells of the prisoner. Dustin continued struggling and kicking against his bonds; he vociferated tons of threats against all them if they don’t let him free immediately and the fate they all would face for hurting an American soldier.  

Two little boys found this situation funny; they started playing each other in a childish fight. The intimidating soldier tied up on bed must seem an amusing situation since they jumped on the bed as well imitating his awkward pose and gestures. One boy accidentally poked his side and he withdrew his torso. Then the other kid, trying to hit his brother, jabbed the other side of the powerless soldier and he jerked uneasily. The boys must have noticed this and began to prod playfully his both sides, making him jump and chuckle.

-Hehe-hey kids hohoho don’t do that… -He tried to look as angry as he really was, but his lips got distorted in smiles as he was touched.

The boys giggled and spoke in their language which turned Dustin more annoyed. The young woman, who was watching the whole scene, grinned mischievously and called the elder man. They talked and sniggered while watched from time to time to the captive in bed squirming helplessly.

-You’ll know ‘bout me as soon as I get out’f this, assholes!! –yelled Dustin.

All them surrounded the bed and stayed looking at him with empty eyes. It was eerie even for a highly trained man. There was something very strange in the eyes of that people that made him fear the worst. His hairs stood on end and a chill went down his spine.

-YOU ALL WILL PAY FOR MY DEAD! –he said with extreme seriousness. But all his words sounded worthless to them.

The elder man took a pair of scissors while another two men brought out knifes.

-What’re you gonna do to me??!! Hey! HEYYY!!! GET AWAY FROM MEEEEEE!!

Dustin tried to resist, but he couldn’t stop those scissors and knifes carefully cut away the strong camouflage fabric of his shirt and the undershirt until leaving Corp. Dustin Coleman’s slim torso naked. He went blush seeing himself in that situation. He was now so painfully vulnerable, just like a man like him NEVER should be. Dustin prepared himself to be slashed, burned, his nails or eyes pulled out, brutally beaten or who knows what kind of method of torture these people would conceive for him. This is war and this was his fate; he had to face it as a hero. He closed his eyes and waited when he felt someone sitting at his both sides. He opened his eyes and saw the elder man and probably his older son. They were watching intently his fit torso and stopped their devious gaze in his hairy underarms. After too much and distressing hours, unable to change his uniform and driving under the middle-east sun, his armpits were reeking with sweat. Dustin didn’t understand why, but soon he did when they brought their wiggly fingers to them. He shook his head a second before feeling those fingers landing in his skin. His body reacted before his mind could realize what was happening.

-Woowoohohono no no… C'hamon, men... C'mon! Hey-haha! Wait a fahackin minute..! Hahahohohooo-hehehehe… that tickles-that tickles… no… don’t!!

The men muttered something in their language. Dustin was now more infuriated than ever, but all he could do was squirm as much as he could to avoid the contact which was pretty difficult in his X-shape pose.

The elder man let his fingers pressure increase just enough to make Dustin jerk and twist with all his strength. He started to giggle harder.

-HAHAHAHAHA… C'mon men… No… no-no-no-NO HAHAHAHA!! Oh my Gad that tickles too much! Oh god OOHHOHOHOHOHOHO GOD NO HAHAHA!!

-They are not sure if this tickles you… -said the pretty-faced young woman.

-Of cohohorsse yehehessss!!! I'M FAHAHAHACKIN TICKLISH!!! Tehehell thehem stop hohohehesshh PLEEEEEHEHESSS! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

The elder man and his son slid their restless fingers down the prisoner’s sides and devoted to rub and knead them along the entire length of this very reactive flesh. Also fingering the soldier’s muscular biceps was too nerve-racking to him. Dustin broke into a deep belly laugh:

-AAHAHWW-NOOOOO...AGHHH-HAHAHAHAHA NOOO MEN… I CAN'T TAKE! I CAN’T TAKE IT… PLEASE DON’T DO THAHAHAT TO ME NO… NOHOHOHONO NOT LIKE THAT NOHOHONO NONOHOHOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! AWWWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAP!!! I'M TOO TICKLISH! YOU SHOULD TORTURE ME IN OTHER WAY! NOT LIKE THIS! OHOHOHOHOHOSSHHIIT!!!!

One thing Dustin was always trying to hide about himself was the fact that he was explosively ticklish. Actually, he was the type of guy who loved and hated being tickled, but in this situation, he would have preferred to be tortured in other way. This people believed to have found out the perfect punishment for him. The look of panic on his face and his violent thrashing whenever the fingers touched his body was a spectacle worthy of being watched. He followed every move his captors made and did his best to jump out of reach, but all were fruitless efforts.  

-HAHAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! HELL NO… DON’T… HEHEHAHAHAHAHAAAWW!!!! NOOUHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA I CANT STAND THIS I CAAHAHAHAHNNTT!!! FUCK!! CHOOSE ANOTHER WAY TO KILL ME AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!! YOU MOTHERFAHAHAHACKERSSEEHEHEHEHAHAHAAAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!!

In a matter of minutes, Dustin was reduced to a hysterical mess. With his eyes filled with tears and sweating buckets, his skin glistened as if he’d just come from a hard training under the rain. He did a silly dance on the mattress trying his best to keep his willpower. Such scene looked borrowed from a grotesque movie: a helpless man was ravaged with tickling and he could do NOTHING to stop it.

Then one of the women cried. Everyone stared at him as if he were some kind of monster: his camouflage trousers had become a huge tent around his crotch. He peered down at the spot they were looking.  

-Oh shit… -he panted-. Tickling does that to me… Now you’d let me go?

All the members of the family retreated from the bed. Dustin sighed with relief thinking that the torture would stop once and for all. Perhaps they would be willing to free him and then disappear because he would take his revenge for having humiliated him so much.

The elder man threw some pieces of the torn shirt over his bulging trouser and again drew back, plotting another way to destroy the soldier, a more traditional, bloody way for sure. Dustin thought these will be his last minutes on earth. The children somehow realized there was something wrong with the upper body tickling, though they didn’t know what. Then they focused their eyes on the huge combat boots protruding from the bed and spoke to the adults. The elder man was reluctant, but after a persuasive talk he seemed to agree. Indeed, there’s another place which is as sensitive as the upper body and it’s located very far from the pudenda.  

Absorbed in his pray, Dustin hadn’t seen any of this until the sound of some stools dragged to the end of the bed made him stare over there. Two guys sat close the corners of the bed and started unfastening the strong laces of his desert boots. 

-No, no, no! Don't you dare YOU FUCKERS! -Dustin kicked against the ropes.

The knots of his Magnum men’s Elite Spider boots were taking too much time to loosen, so the captors brought their knives and shredded the laces.

-No nonono hold on! HEY… DON’T! DON’T TAKE MY DAMN BOOTS OFF!

They ignored him; their hands kept busily cutting the laces. As the soldier felt his boots being taken off, he knew he was doomed.

-We have tickled you too close of your private parts. This time we will tickle you far from your genitals –sentenced the pretty-faced girl as Dustin shook his head in total shock.

Dustin wore desert boot socks, slightly damp from sweat but they had no clue of smell. He swallowed hard and closed tight his eyes. The wicked men wiggled their fingers over the socked soles and scribbled them up and down the length of both feet. Dustin was in real trouble now, knowing perfectly that his feet were his most ticklish spot. He fought to repress his giggles and made futile attempts pulling his legs away from the ropes. Patiently, the men were testing every corner of these size 11 feet covered with suitable military socks. Dustin was responsive as if his feet were bare. They explored the heels, the arches, the instep, the ball of the foot, under the toes, in between the toes as much as the thick socks allow, on top of the toes and even the ankles. The room filled with boisterous laughter; spasmodic gusts of desperation poured from the soldier’s lungs in form of loud guffaws. Corp. Dustin Coleman got lost in TICKLE HELL. Incapable to keep his mind, he lost all control of himself and laughed unrestrainedly like never before in his life. Others member of the family took turns to have their own fun.

After about 10 minutes, they noticed the sheets around the victim’s body were bathed in his sweat. He was breathless, but was determined to endure this. Somehow he understood that his life depended on his resilience. The women threw more clothes over his private area since they realized that the tent in his camouflage trouser had grown even more, if it could be possible. “What size was the male organ of this American soldier?”, they asked with surprise.

Indeed, his throbbing cock was pumping hard against the strong fabric and leaking precum below his shorts. The tickling on his feet caused him stronger arousal, but since the fingers didn’t touch directly the skin because of the thick socks, he was still quite far from the climax; hence, if they kept tickling him through the socks the growing and non-consummated orgasm could shatter his strength. Right now Dustin wanted to cum more than else in the world. Even the fact of being freed and sent home wouldn’t make him feel better if his tormentors didn’t let him cum first.

Having caused such agony just through his thick military socks, some members of the family wondered how much they could harm him if they removed his last protection and did their evil work directly on his bare soles. The elder man was loath to uncover the prisoner’s feet, however he accepted. They pulled the soldier’s socks, exposing inch after inch of his feet and without more ado, they resumed the previous torture.

-OH MY GAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA…!!!!!!!!

Corp. Dustin Coleman went completely insane with tickling. The poor marine howled, ranted and shrieked as his ultra-ticklish soles were scratched with fingernails until he finally climaxed. It was the most thrilling orgasm he had ever had; he kept coming and coming in a nonstop orgasm until his sexual energy was totally spent and he collapsed from exhaustion.  

When Dustin regained conscious, he saw again the same room and knew it wasn’t a nightmare as he hoped. The sunbeam revealed that it was morning, so he had been sleeping 12 hours or more. Surprisingly, he wasn’t tied up in spread eagle, but he had only a manacle around his neck attached to the bed by a chain, so he sat up and stretched his aching body. He had still his camouflage trousers on and could feel the sticky mess in his shorts, but was too ashamed about stripping off his last clothe and stay nude in this crazy place filled with psychos. There was a tray with meal in the bed that he devoured angrily. At least these people weren’t going to starve him to death.

After noon, several persons came in the bedroom. They weren’t the family of the previous day. Dustin cried who were them. These new people said something Dustin didn’t understand. They forced him spread eagle again, took off his trousers and shorts and fastened his wrists and ankles as well, then they vented their anger on his body in the same odd way. In a matter of minutes, Dustin was in a state of ticklish dementia; his Adam nipple vibrated frenziedly and he got beetroot in a forced smile-grimace as they tickled and tickled the fuck out of him. Every of them wiggled their fingers all over his body, from his responsive neck to his super ticklish soles, including his private parts, so he reached orgasm soon and, shockingly, after he climaxed, they continued tickling him knowing that after the orgasm the ticklishness should peak.

Next day Dustin woke up with the neck manacle and the meal. Today he was stark naked. His green shorts, his uniform, cap, boots and socks were scattered on the floor. He was asking himself tons of things about his recent days when the door opened and another bunch of people entered in the room, these were different from the previous. Dustin was astonished! “All the fucking people of this country are coming here to tickle me?”, he thought in utter disbelief. “This isn’t happening!”  

Once again, Dustin’s hysteric laughter thundered against the walls for several hours. It was terrifying how two people grabbed his ankles within a leg-lock and held back his toes with one hand while used the other to scratch his exposed soles with no mercy. As well other people scribble their fingers on his armpits, down his sides, his ribs, nipples, abs, navel, inner thigh and calves. Corp. Dustin Coleman had been gifted with an average cock, about 6-7 inches long ―he used to measure it and compare with others guys― and medium balls. His orgasms were intense, at least that’s what he had experience so far. Nonetheless, in this bizarre situation, under the rapturous effects of the tickling, his cock had reached 13 inches long and his balls looked like goose eggs! He was beyond wonder, but he got used to it very quickly, after all some BIG genitals had been always his great dream! Perhaps, he thought, the penis and testicles grow when they’re properly stimulated, above all if the cock is also engulfed in a greedy mouth that gave him the blowjob of his life, which it was repeated many times all the while he was tickled. To make things better, he felt also a myriad of tongues licking every corner of his body. Needless to say he came countless times and after every climax he was, as expected, more and more responsive, so no one in world could imagine how he was feeling right now. He was miles away from Hell or Paradise, in a sort of limbo. He was completely out of himself in an endless cycle of agony and ecstasy, but what these people ignored is that Corp. Dustin Coleman had an exceptional stamina, so he confronted his fate with all his strength and good mood…

  Fourteen weeks after that day when Dustin’s jeep got stalled in the vicinity of those wrecked buildings, one squad of the company *** stomped in the deserted house. They had followed some traces that leaded them to finish the conspiracy and defeat all the terrorists in the area. One of those traces guided them where the jeep was, the rest was history… As they walked within the gloomy house, a half open door attracted their eyes. They pushed it and found a tall, wiry figure, it was a man and they recognized him quickly. Corp. Dustin Coleman was sleeping on the bed and buck naked as if he were in home. His hair had grown to his shoulders and was bearded. A look of despair twisted his nice looking face as soon as he saw his compatriots. He apparently had forgotten his English and was speaking the language of the country. In the infirmary he managed to claim that he had been tickled to no end every day by many people, but he was told again and again that he wasn’t tied up and that nobody lived in that house two years ago since the war started.

Dustin was sent back to United Stated and put in an asylum for a month, until he gave signs of recovery. He stopped talking about being tickled and behaved normally. His memories about that place looked a dream. Everyone assured him that they didn’t explain who had kidnapped him there since it was a ghost town, all the people had died during a bombardment a year ago. His kidnappers surely were terrorists.

  One year later, Dustin Coleman took a fly to Middle East. The town was still deserted despite the plan to rebuilding. Our veteran soldier rented a car and drove toward the gloomy house; he pushed the door as if he came home. The same family was inside looking at him without surprise. He was wearing his normal clothes, those that made him look like any 22 years old boy, cool, happy, uninhibited and friendly. He smiled and waved his hand, after all they knew him and he knew all them.

-Hey, guys –said Dustin in their language- this time I came to stay…

  The end

[quietlysatan]

An Invincible Summer - ShanaStoryteller, AO3

Link: Here!!

Rating: T for read the warnings, but don’t worry too much because of them

Favorite Quote(s): I legit wanna tattoo this next quote on me somewhere

"Oh, the things that can be accomplished through ignorance of their impossibility," 

And this Straight Up Fact

“There’s no such thing as cheating as long as you win,” Natsu says, and the brat’s not wrong.

This one’s just funny

“Chouza,” Inoichi forces himself to say evenly, “Your teachings produced Ebisu and goddamned Gai.”

“Genma’s pretty normal though,” Chouza sighs, “I never could get through to that boy.”

Gently Gai casually caring about Kakashi’s well-being is my entire reason for living, speaking of which if someone wants to come be my Gai that’d be really fucking nice because us Kakashi’s don’t do too well on our own

He hesitates, but says, "Not that I do not find your newfound mentorship to be a most youthful endeavor, but -"

"I don't know," Kakashi interrupts his friend, "I met her while she was taking her genin exam and she, I don't know, adopted me or something. She just keeps showing up."

Gai nods thoughtfully, "Stubbornness is a useful skill to have when trying to cultivate a friendship with you." Kakashi elbows the other man, but doesn't protest besides that. "She's a good cook."

And this one because I love it when people Get It, ya’know?

That's really why he won't say anything, why he won't reveal that the Kyuubi's container and the fourth Hokage's child is still alive: they already killed him once. Naruto and Shikamaru are the same age, they would have been in the same class, and the idea that anyone could want to harm his innocent, precious son makes his blood boil 

And this one, for accuracy

"This sounds like a most youthful endeavor. I will bring Anko! She will fan the flames of youth in our young Konoha blossom!"

Both Itachi and Kakashi look at Gai, horrified. "Please don't," Itachi says weakly, like he knows it'll fall on deaf ears but he has to try anyway.

"Don't worry," Gai attempts to assure them, going into his Good Guy pose, "They will produce youthful flames of feminine excellence!"

"They're going to burn down Konoha," Kakashi says flatly.

Gai's hair and teeth sparkle in the sunlight, and he doesn't attempt to deny it.

Another important one

"The world is a terrible place," she says, and she has to swallow before she speaks again, "and it's full of terrible people. But I don't have to be one of them." 

I love that Natsu-chan has great balance, this is my number one favorite character trope, and I wish more people would write it

She bends down to look at him upside down, and Itachi can feel that she's not using chakra to stick onto him, and sometimes her balance just isn't logical. 

I just love the idea of tiny genius Naruto, and I love that Natsu-chan is a seal master at like, fucking seven and a half lol

Itachi knows it's actually far more complicated than that, but just as he does not tell her minutia of the past shinobi wars in their history lessons, she does not overcomplicate her explanations of sealing. Usually he's grateful for that, but when she appears to break every known law to sealing and chakra, he's not.

"That's," he blinks and he's not going to tell her it's impossible because it clearly isn't, "new," he settles on.

A mood honestly

Inoichi now feels the urge to bang his head against the table top, because 'a huge pain' to Natsu is 'literally impossible' to everyone else.

Another mood honestly

Inoichi watches his former genin dig in with resignation. “When are you guys going to start picking up the tab? Feeding you all isn’t cheap you know.”

Hana swallows her mouthful, “Sensei, I am but a lone healer’s apprentice –“

“I have been a chunin less than a month,” Kabuto pouts, wounded, “and already you seek to profit-“

“Do you have any idea how much sealing paper and ink costs?” Natsu demands.

“Okay, okay,” Inoichi grumbles, but it’s not very effective considering he’s smiling, “I take it back, jeez.”

Okay so, since this is a 100k+ word fic, I’ve been doing this thing lately literally just now on this fic review where I only feature quotes from the first chapter (Depending on length.) but, I’m making an exception because I’ve never seen these three characters and my thoughts on them summed up so well by someone I don’t know which is to say anyone, no one I know cares about my interests really lol

"Maybe a little," he admits grudgingly, "Sakura's really smart, but she acts dumb for some reason. And her endurance is really bad. She probably would have been failed on that alone if she didn't have such good aim with shuriken. And Sasuke's good at like, everything, I still don't get why he didn't graduate earlier. He's just so-" Kiba rubs his hand over his face.

"So what?" Hana prompts, even though she's heard this particular complaint before.

"Sad," the genin sighs, "He's miserable all the time, and he works hard and if you yell at him for long enough he'll work with you, but - crap, I don't know. He's got this really great poker face so you think he's just a big jerk, but I can smell his emotions, the big idiot, and he's just this sad lonely kid who won't listen to anyone."

Hana hums, because if she opens her mouth she'll probably start cursing the Hokage and his dumb rules and his dumb ideas, and that is not the type of thing that leads to a long life.

Just one last quote because dudes, guys, pals, friends of mine it’s important and you should all stop and read it.

 “Thanks for being cool with – everything. I’m really happy you’re not mad at me for not being honest with you.”

“You are my friend,” Gaara says warmly, “and you have always been honest about that.”

Words & Chapter(s): 136,306 words of greatness, and 6 full chapters of nicely done completion

Summary: When Naruto is five, he's gutted by a drunken civilian and presumed dead.

Six months later a girl with ash pale hair and dark blue eyes enters the Academy. 

(Guys I swear on my cool as fuck username, and all around internet personality as practically satan and probably Lucifer and whatnot that nobody we like stays dead or severely injured)

Score: 13, this is one of my favorites for a reason, this is actually my second technically third time rereading this in as many weeks

Pairing(s): Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, background Haku/Zabuza, but don’t worry anything you’re thinking of is addressed quite nicely in the fic ultra background but still there’s a lot of relationships and I’m not going to tag them all

Warning(s): Naruto technically dies more than once because this is Naruto we’re talking about but they also technically don’t??? You gotta read it, but basically temporary character death, only the bad guys stay dead in this one.

Nobody knows that Naru-chan lived so there’s that angst for you, however, to be fair it’s not like this whole story is just characters mourning and crying and whatnot, at this point it’s mostly just passing thoughts and memories which, again, to be fair, does almost feel worse at times... Huh, regardless it’s not overly angsty

Kakashi is adopted whether he likes it or not by Natsu-chan, we love both of our emotionally fucked over fair-haired ninja in this house so you won’t have to worry about that sorta fic coming outta nowhere from me BTW... but anyways, Kakashi freaks out a bit, much like the abused dog he always reminds me of, but Natsu is the sweetest and most gentle, yet forceful person he could’ve possibly caught the attention of. (This is canon)

The Akatsuki are still bad, BUT ITACHI ISN’T technically SO WHO FUCKING CARES!!!! (The Massacre still happens tho...)

Mentions of The Flower District and what that implies, and also things a Kunoichi might definitely do

Oh my fucking god the Hyuga... Who would willingly do something so horrible as that? Of all the things... Warning for... The Hyuga branch family situation, it’s dealt with nearly as soon as we are informed but, gods, my blood ran cold, and my face whited out, my sister thought someone had died when she saw my face haha,,, who the fuck does this? And do they die? In canon I mean? I think I only watched up to the chunin exams or Pein’s attack, I can’t remember which tho...

Natsu cries because people are nice to her sometimes. And honestly that’s fair, I burst into to tears once because I imagined someone kissing my forehead softly so, Natsu is completely valid... Sidenote, I’m touch-starved and have no cure for this beyond younger siblings and my cat because I don’t have the ability to ask my mom for a hug without literally gross sobbing and I have A Thing about embarrassment sooooo... yeah if anyone has some therapy justu for me that’d be nice

Mentions of Gross Men that apparently want to have Natsu’s increasingly growing collection of the absolute most dangerous people she can befriend pay them a visit. And by that, I mean an old fuckwit has the gall to leer at a TEN-YEAR-OLD and a FUCKING THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD!!!!!! Ugh, I hate those kinds of pathetic worms.

On that note, there is technically underaged things going on, but they are also Ninja soooo???? They’ve killed people and are technically in their version of an army, and by the laws of their lands they’re all adults, actually I’m pretty sure by shinobi life expectancy Kakashi is middle-aged, Inoichi is a senior citizen, and Hiruzen is a walking corpse tbh

Alcoholism??? I don’t really think it is but I’m not sure, but some characters do drink often, and usually when stressed courtesy of Natsu and co. but still... I don’t actually know if it is because it doesn’t actually happen much, more like every few weeks/months

Mentions of past sexual assault, and attempted past sexual assault, neither happen in fic or to any of our main characters, the experiences are not graphic though they do talk about it in chapter five, it’s not to graphically described.

Also, a bunch of off-screen lemon

A Thing (That I copy-pasted from the author so that all of you will see it and not say a single word against it.): If you thought Natsu was too mature for her age - she has seen and been through some really horrible shit. But also: my cousin has, since he was like 4, hung out with kids that were about 4 years older than him because those were the kids that were in his neighborhood or whatever. Point being, even after he started school, his main group of friends was consistently older than him. He very quickly adapted to that, and to this day (he's 12) hangs out with that same group, and considers children his own age 'kids' because he adapted to the behavior of the group he was surrounded with. I hardly believe Natsu would be any different.

And also

4. Quick little note because some people mentioned liking my portrayal of the Sandaime. I base his decisions/motivations (and Itachi and Danzo's to a certain extent) around this quote by Clementine von Radics: "It is so hard to live half monster, to hurt everything you love by trying to protect it wrong."

Pros: Watching Natsu just casually disregard the idea of gender with little to no thought is the greatest thing anyone will ever experience beyond, I dunno, the party we’re all gonna collectively throw when soggy Cheeto dies (I still haven’t decided which song we should make chart number one when that happens)

Given that I’ve technically read this three times you should already know the writing is fucking amazing, like, whoa, mind blown type of amazing, like, wow, so good, I usually hate rereading something I’ve read before, and especially so soon after the fact but geez Louis is this fic amazing

Natsu is just as easy to fall in love with as Naruto, and they are still the same people with slightly different personalities as is to be realistically expected with a situation like Naru’s was.

Also, GENDERFLUID REPRESENTATION DONE FUCKING AMAZINGLY IS ALWAYS A PLUS!!!!!!! 

The author manages to convey a very realistic genderfluid character in an incredibly believable manner, while also still keeping Natsu/Naruto themself. They’re still the Naruto that we knew and loved, but they’re different too, as is to be expected. when Natsu is a girl no-one stumbles, she is a girl without a doubt, even the author doesn’t trip up on societal expectations, and when Naruto is a boy there is next to immediate acceptance of this fact with absolutely zero (0) Zero bullshit from transphobes, which, as a genderfluid person myself, is always fucking nice to see. You’ll have to read it to know more though.

Natsu running around creating seals is honestly the greatest thing ever, and the end scene with the village made me cry a lil bit, and dammit this fic is so fucking good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, there’s a scene, where Natsu heals Kakashi, and the way the author handled explaining the intimate not sexual relationship between two of my favorite characters ever is just, so subtly beautiful, the sibling-bond these two have is beautiful, and a part of me wants to cry sometimes when I read it, and usually do cry a little when I get to this scene, and only partially because of what happened directly before it.

I love the way everybody just gets up and moves past their trauma and just decides to politely ignore it, oh they still have it, they still deal with it, but they care, and they are careful about it, and even though it hurts them like a knife-wound to the kidney in slow-motion they still get back up and keep fucking going. That’s hella admirable and I can respect that, I can respect even more that they slowly but surely let themselves heal as time moves on. This fic is beautiful on so many different levels but it is this one perhaps, that is the most magnificent. Perhaps.

Sasuke is adorable and depressing and adorable and I love it. And Ino is still a bad bitch but she’s a kid so we only see it like a handful of times in the first two chapters. The Akimichi/Yamanaka/Nara are all great, and I occasionally pity Inionchicause like, he’s putting up with a well-informed seal genius that’s still hyper, a slightly frightening medic-kunoichi with giant dogs, another slightly more frightening medic-nin who isn’t the greatest fighter but damn can he be intimidating and also really good at pointing out “Certain Things” while judging you about them which, honestly, is my greatest pastime. Itachi is so sweet and then so tragic oh my gods, and Natsu never even considers giving up on him. Kakashi is so sweet, and he slowly becomes less of a beaten dog as time goes on and I just love all of these characters.

Except for Hiruzen. Well, no, I still love this particular incarnation of Hiruzen, for all that he’s got one hell of a pathetically small backbone, I get why he does shit. But that doesn’t make me happy. Still, he’s better than dumbledouchebag. Granted that’s not difficult, and you might have to actively put an effort in to be as bad as that guy, but still. Plus, his hearts in the right place, and he’s less about the greater good then... certain disgraces to teaching and being in charge of a large group of people... Hiruzen is actually kinda sweet and admits he has issues and actually has an excuse that’s understandable for the shit that he pulls which is great, if sadly uncommon.

Anyways, Sakura is terrifying, and I remembered why I had a crush on her. She’s so badass, also, she ends up Princess Mononoke basically which, honestly, is fucking great, and the best thing we could’ve asked for, I love all of these characters so much!!!

Aesthetic: It reminds me off beefy stew (We don’t eat beef, so we used vegan soy beef stuff instead, and it was just as good.) it reminds me of the warmth, and friendship, and home that I felt after my mom and I make dinner together with nothing but a little music on and jokes passing back and forth between us. It reminds me of scraping my knee and having my friends help me to their mom, it reminds me of loyalty and compassion. It reminds me of dancing outside at night, alone in the forest with nothing but the moon for company and wind for music. It reminds me of the first time I realized that I could love someone despite their gender and that I should despite mine. It reminds me of finely spun handmade lace, and all it’s delicate while also reminding me of the sturdiest of steels, it reminds me of so much. It reminds me of acceptance, and understanding, and so much more. If I were to say what food and drink it reminds me of, I’d say chicken noodle soup, and sweet lavender-lemon tea.

Music Aesthetic: So, I made a playlist while I was reading this the first time around, and instead of a gif or twenty like I would usually prefer to do I’m going to add that playlist. https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLbhXmTSBbAyjk0m1b4BZUp3t0RHL83LDK

But if I were to add a gif or two it’d be these

Because something about this fic reminds me of rainy days with tea and baggy clothes.

Every time Natsu/Naruto decided to fight ever, to be honest.

[intothestarkerverse]

Time of Our Lives (Part Seven)

Based on a prompt from @geekymarvel  

Peter is tasked with an important mission that requires him to go back in time.   Finding himself at a gala for Stark industries in the 1990’s, he comes face to face with a young and incorrigible Tony Stark who considers Peter’s attempts to deny his advances a challenge.  Now, dogged by a horny young CEO who won’t take no for an answer, Peter’s task has become much more difficult….

(STORY CONTAINS ENDGAME SPOILERS)

Read on AO3

Tony Stark had long ago learned to live independently.  From boarding school as a child to MIT as a teenager to working for his family’s Fortune 500 company as an adult, he had rarely been coddled and had taught himself how to survive without many close personal attachments, depending only upon himself, and never allowing sentimentality to consume him.  He could count those for whom he deeply cared on a single hand:  Edwin Jarvis, James Rhodes, and (before her death) Maria Stark.  The rest of the billions of people on the Earth?  He never expected much more from them than a fleeting night’s entertainment and debauchery or more money to pad his already over-inflated bank account.

The last thing that Tony Stark ever anticipated was how easily Peter Parker seemed to fit into that life of self-imposed solitude.  Perhaps some of that could be accredited to Peter’s familiarity with the Old Man.  Peter was not as easily offended by Tony’s peculiarities because, no doubt, the Old Man hadn’t grown out of all of them.  He laughed at Tony’s dry wit.  He blushed at Tony’s flirtations.  He called Tony out on his shit and somehow instinctively had a sixth sense about when to stand his ground and when to back down to Tony’s mercurial temper.  It was like being with someone he’d known for years, and there were times when he had to consciously remind himself that they’d actually met only a short time ago.

It was likely that the Old Man kept his lab organized in a similar way to Tony’s, more because Tony was a creature of habit than because there was any tried or true system to it.  Even decades into the past, that had to be how Peter seemed so at ease in the area of Tony’s home in which he had always felt the most comfortable and in control.  But it wasn’t just the lab.  It was everything else, too.

There were no breakfast buffets after that first morning, but there was always some manner of breakfast food waiting for them when they woke up.  Eggs and bacon.  Waffles.  Pancakes.  Muffins.  Something.  Peter playfully teased and cajoled Tony into taking at least a few bites of food, sometimes even serving him up a small plate with his morning coffee with the insistence that “even a brain as amazing as the great Tony Stark’s needs fuel.”  As much as Tony pretended to hate it, there was some long-buried and never-recognized part of him that was happy to have someone who cared about his morning caloric intake.  It had been such a very long time since someone had tried to take care of him, someone who wasn’t on his payroll and was genuinely concerned about him because of an emotional fondness and not a monetary need, at any rate.  It felt much nicer than he was ever going to be willing to admit to anyone.  Even when he didn’t feel like eating, he always caved in and ate at least a few bites of whatever Peter was offering him.  It was only to pacify the kid, he told himself, but if he was being honest…he might become more of a breakfast person if his mornings were going to stay like this forever.  But they weren’t.  That’s what he had to keep telling himself.

After breakfast, if Stark Industries could do without their CEO, the two men were off to Tony’s home lab.  The first time he’d showed Peter the lab, he had genuinely hoped for a bigger reaction.  Peter was not nearly as impressed as he would have hoped, but…Tony had to remind himself that he was still competing against that ridiculous Old Man who had the benefit of 21st Century technology and several decades of trial and error that Tony had yet to experience. Of course the Old Man’s lab was going to be shinier and more impressive.  Of course Peter wasn’t going to ‘ooo’ and ‘awww’ over technology that he likely found woefully outdated and comical.  Tony wasn’t bitter about that.  At least…not much.  To his credit, Peter seemed genuinely taken with Dum-E and U.  He greeted them like old friends…and they probably were, come to think of it.  If it was possible, the robots seemed equally enamored by the kid.  Though, as Tony watched Peter giggle and duck Dum-E’s awkwardly swinging appendage, the inventor wondered if there was anyone who wasn’t charmed by the spiderling within minutes of meeting him.  How did he fight crime in the future?  How did all of the criminals not just turn themselves in at the prospect of causing that boy an ounce of harm?  How had the Old Man not become an authoritarian dictator imposing martial law on New York City just to keep the crime rate down and make sure that Peter Parker never encountered anything more dangerous than lost tourists and purse thieves?  

Peter felt responsible for the Old Man’s death.  It wasn’t so hard for Tony to imagine that he’d died for Peter.  Protecting him.  Saving him.  Guaranteeing him a future of rainbows and unicorns.  Not that Tony would ever do anything like that himself.  He could just…understand where the Old Man might have become more sentimental as senility and infirmity crept up on him.  Tony Stark was a self-centered piece of shit…one who choked down unwanted breakfast food every morning just to watch Peter’s face light up with triumph and joy over his small victory.

Fuck.

The lab work was as grueling as Tony had warned that it would be.  Fixing the Nullifer was an impossible task.  There were six glass boards erected on wheels around the lab, all of them covered in colorful, erasably marked equations as Tony and Peter broke the Nullifer down to the bare bones theories Howard Stark had hypothesized when creating it.  There were parts strewn across several work tables.  Blue prints and schematics pinned to walls, taped to floors…  

Though he would never say as much out loud, Tony was impressed by Peter.  His grasp of theoretical physics was remarkable for a kid without a college degree.  Though there were times that Peter needed him to break down the truly advanced parts of a few of the equations, Peter was quick to grasp the concepts once they were explained and proved unafraid to voice his own ideas and theories.  He wasn’t just beautiful, sexy, and brave, he was also smart enough to carry on a scientific conversation with Tony without being left behind…and without boring the inventor.  That, in and of itself, was astounding.  Much to his own chagrin, Tony found himself hauling out other projects, theories, concepts, prototypes…explaining them all to Peter with a touch more eagerness than his self-respect preferred and taking in the boy’s praise or suggestions like he was starving for it.  

They always broke for lunch when the sound of Peter’s stomach rumbling became too distracting, taking whatever fare Jarvis had prepared for them back to the lab so they could eat and work at the same time…though they rarely did.  The ‘picnics’ as Peter called them were usually spent discussing things other than the Nullifer, mostly because Peter insisted that it was important to give the brain time to process things subconsciously.  Tony did have to admit that more often than not, after they’d spent all of lunch arguing over who the best Star Wars characters were while seated in the only clean part of the lab (a six foot square section of floor in the left center) there was some kind of small ‘eureka’ moment that led them down a new path.  It was never the right path, but he had warned Peter that he thought the Nullifer could never actually be fixed.  It certainly wasn’t like, as days passed, Tony was hoping he was right and that stupid machine was broken well into their old age.  Because that wasn’t true.  Or at least, he’d never admit it.  Even to himself.

It was somewhat distressing how little Stark Industries seemed to actually need their CEO around.  Tony suspected that Obie was probably still shouldering a lot of the workload, and since he had no desire to dip his toes into the bureaucratic side of the company…he didn’t feel much like stopping him. Every time he mentioned Obadiah’s name, Peter would imperceptibly tense up and change the subject. It was suspicious, but Tony tried to write it all off as a mutual dislike between the men.  After all, when Tony’s presence had finally been demanded in the office, he’d taken Peter with him to show him around the company…and Obie had been less than welcoming to the young man.

Dinner was mostly delivery, eaten in front of the television, the two men seated closely together on the sofa or the floor in front of the coffee table.  Peter had a deep appreciation for cinema, one that Tony found both endearing and a little obnoxious every time he referred to a recent release as a ‘really old movie.’  “You’re going to be a really sexy corpse if you say that one more time, Peter.”

Peter gave Tony a sidelong glance attempting an innocent smile and a dismissive shrug.  “You’re the one who calls my Tony ‘Old Man’ whenever you’re referring to him.”

Tony felt his jaw clench ever so slightly at Peter’s choice of words.  He sucked in a slow breath through his nose, letting it escape in a sigh as he pushed the nearly empty Chinese takeout container away.  Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore.  “You know, from what little you’ve told me about the guy…I don’t get why you still think he was ever ‘yours’.”

Peter froze, staring down at his own food.  Perhaps Tony had said too much.  He wasn’t jealous of the guy and he hardly wanted Peter to think he was.  There was just some part of him that was very frustrated by Peter always referring to the Old Man as ‘his Tony’.  “No…yeah…you’re right.  He’s not mine.  Never was.  He’s just…just Mr. Stark.  I won’t call him ‘my Tony’ anymore.  I’m sorry…if it…you know.”

Fuck.

The kid even knew him well enough not to go any further with his apology or his excuses.  Tony had never imagined how amazingly frustrating it would be to have someone like Peter around.  No, not someone like Peter.  Peter. There couldn’t be anyone else like Peter, not in all of time and space.

—

“What’s this?”  Peter had been rooting around in Tony’s drawers trying to find a spare tube of lubricant.  They were out, something he’d only just discovered when he was trying to prepare to seduce the older man when he finished with his late-night conference call with the Japanese investors.  Instead of finding spare lube, he’d stumbled upon a worn children’s chapter book tucked away in the bottom drawer of Tony’s bedside table.

Tony froze inside the doorway.  His face was unreadable, but there was a hint of something uncomfortable in his dark eyes.  “A book.”

“Yeah, I figured that part out.  I mean…why do you have it?”

“It was a gift.”

“From?”

“My mother.”

“Oh.”  Peter’s hand fell to his lap, still holding onto the book.  Suddenly, he felt bad about bringing it up.  Although they had both lost their parents, it was something neither of them had talked about to any profound extent.  Peter barely remembered his parents, and for Tony that loss was only a few years old.  Peter could sympathize and avoided the topic unless Tony brought it up.  He felt the mattress shift as Tony sat down beside him.  The billionaire was staring at his hands, remarkably quiet for someone who always enjoyed talking so much.  “You don’t have to say anything else.”  Peter felt the need to make sure Tony knew he was all right with the silence.  “I…I understand.”

Tony nodded his head slowly.  “Yeah, Beautiful, I know you understand…That’s why…”  He fell silent, his words cut off by a melodramatic sigh.  “She gave it to me when I was little.  It was my favorite book growing up.”

Peter looked down at the battered dust jacket and smiled.  The Story of King Arthur and His Knights by Howard Pyle.  “This makes so much sense.”  It added a whole new layer to Iron Man that Peter had never even considered.  He could just imagine a tiny Tony Stark pretending to be a knight…only to grow up and save the universe as a futuristic knight of sorts.  

“Oh yeah?”  Tony turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, wondering at what part of his future could have anything to do with a book about the Round Table and chivalry.  “Well, I’m glad.  I guess.”  He was quiet again for several seconds before he reached out to gingerly take the book from Peter’s hands and begin leafing through it.  “When my mother wasn’t busy being a trophy wife, dragged off by my father to all corners of the world…she’d always come to my room to read me one of these.  Sometimes it was the only time I got to spend with her.  Being raised by nannies isn’t all that Hollywood makes it out to be.”  He grimaced, closing the book again.  “I loved those story times.  Everything about them.  Falling asleep to the sound of reading.  Dreaming about the stories.  Spent most of my very limited innocent years playing Knight and pretending to be a hero.  Then my father decided I was too soft, that I need to learn to be more independent.  Shipped me off to boarding school a half a world away when I was seven and I only saw my parents on holidays after that.  If I was lucky.  I don’t think we ever actually finished reading that book…”

Peter’s throat felt tight as he swallowed, lifting a hand to rub at his eye self consciously, attempting to wipe away the dampness there before Tony saw it.  

Only he did.

Peter could tell by the way Tony’s expression seemed to soften, the way he stared at Peter as if he was only just seeing him for the first time.  The teenager tried to smile, rubbing at his eyes again before Tony reached out to capture his wrists, gently pull his hands away from his face and bridge the distance between them.

Peter could never remember Tony kissing him quite so gently before.  There was a tenderness to the brush of lips that took the young man’s breath away.  When Tony dropped his wrist and lifted a hand to gently stroke the side of Peter’s face, the boy felt tingly all over.  “Umm…we’re…we’re out of lube.”

Tony paused, ceasing the gentle succession of feather soft kisses he’d been pressing to Peter’s lips as he stroked his cheek with a calloused thumb.  A little laugh escaped him and he rested his forehead against Peter’s.  “Way to kill the mood, Parker.”

“I’m sorry!  We could…I don’t know…go without it?”

“Nah, we’ll get some tomorrow.  Tonight…let’s try something else tonight.”

Peter’s gaze was wary, but he nodded, afraid of what sexual escapades they might be about to embark on…right up until the moment Tony made himself comfortable in the bed and pulled Peter into his side.  Wait.  Was Tony Stark actually cuddling?  On purpose?  Of his own choice?  Instead of sex?  Without sex?  Cuddling?   Peter couldn’t help himself, he was grinning like a fool and only too happy to snuggle in as close to Tony as he was allowed.

“What knight did you pretend to be?”

“What?” Tony’s words were muffled by his position, nose buried in Peter’s chestnut curls.  “What knight…Arthur, of course.  Had to be the king, didn’t I?  My ego wouldn’t tolerate anything less.  Why?  Which knight do you think I am?”

Peter considered this for several minutes, running his fingers on a slow track up and down Tony’s clothed chest.  “Lancelot.  I think you’re way more a Lancelot.  Flashy and sexy.  The best knight, but also…controversial and tragic.”

Tony pulled back enough to look at him. “Damn, kid, you make me really curious about my life between now and then.  What the hell happens to me?  Who the hell is this Old Man, anyway?”

“Earth’s greatest defender.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”  The silence lingered between them, but it wasn’t a bad quiet.  Peter was happy to rest in the comfort of Tony’s arm, tucked against his side, head resting on his chest.  It was Tony who finally broke the silence in the most unexpected of ways.  “Do we start at the beginning or where my mother and I last left off?” He held up the book with his free hand.

Peter just stared at him in awe.  Was he actually suggesting what Peter thought he was suggesting?  Somehow, the idea of cuddling with Tony in his bed reading his favorite book, a gift from his dead mother, a book he’d abandoned along with his innocence well over a decade ago…was the most intimate thing Peter had ever heard. He felt so humbled, so honored, so happy, that he was blinking tears out of his eyes again. “Better start at the beginning.  I don’t think the story of King Arthur has a happy ending.”

“The best stories never do, Sweetheart.”

—

“We’re going to dinner.”

Peter looked up from the circuit board he was bent over, setting it aside to look at Tony incredulously.  “We’re what?”

“We’re going out.  We’ve been cooped up inside for weeks.  It’s time I took you somewhere nice.  So…go shower, change, whatever.  We’re going to my favorite restaurant.”

Peter couldn’t even try to hide his delight at the prospect.  They were going on an actual date.  If he’d thought that periodic cuddles and stories with Tony were wonderful, than a dinner date with the man of his dreams was more than he’d ever hoped for.  He didn’t even care if Tony saw him running to their room to shower and change.

After a little less than an hour, Peter was pleased with the way he looked.  He’d tried to tame his curls and tie his tie just right.  The suit Jarvis had picked up for him ‘just in case’ he happened to need it was precisely the right size.  Then again, with Jarvis, everything was always perfect.  Peter had never thought that the AI would come up short in comparison to the real man.  Even Vision had nothing on this guy.

At last, content and more than ready for dinner, he decided to leave the master bath and go in search of Tony who he discovered entering the bedroom in search of him.

The two men froze in their respective doorways, speaking simultaneously in mirrored exclamations of surprise and indignation.  “What are you wearing?”

A long pause.

“You said you were taking me to dinner.”  Peter looked down at the suit and tie he’d donned, suddenly feeling very self conscious about his choice of attire compared to the jeans and band t-shirt Tony was wearing.

“Where exactly did you think we were eating, Tavern on the Green?”

“I mean…you’re a billionaire.”

“So that means I eat nothing but cavier for every meal then, huh?”

Peter looked genuinely puzzled.  “Don’t you?”

Tony crossed his arms and regarded the younger man with an eyebrow raised questioningly.  “You claim to know me so well, Pete.  What’s my favorite food?  Hm? Is it Foie Gras?”

Another long pause.  “No, its Cheeseburgers.”

“Bravo!”  Tony gave Peter an over-exaggerated round of applause.  “There’s the boy genius I know and love!”

The words hung between them for several seconds as both men realized what he’d said, albeit accidentally.  Peter’s face broke out in a slow grin that very nearly split his head in two, while for the first time in recorded history, Peter assumed, Tony actually blushed.  He cleared his throat, opened his mouth to speak, and remained speechless.  Another first for the billionaire by Peter’s estimation.

“No fair taking it back.”  Peter’s warning was spoken so softly that it barely carried to Tony’s ears.  The billionaire sucked in a slow breath and shrugged as if to say that he had no intention of taking it back, or acknowledging that it had ever happened.

“You’re not changing your clothes, Kid.  You’re eating in the suit.  Come on.  I’m hungry and I’m tired of waiting.”

“No, but…I don’t want to eat cheeseburgers in a suit, Tony.  I’ll look stupid.”  Peter’s high-pitched pleading echoed around them as they made their way through the penthouse and finally to the garage.  Tony sauntered to one of his cars, smirking at the kid as he slid into the driver’s seat.  

“Get in or starve, Beautiful.”

“Mr. Jarvis would never let me starve.”

“Did I say you were going to be starving for food, Beautiful?”  Tony’s gaze dipped meaningfully and Peter turned a deep shade of red.  

“Yeah, okay…I guess…I guess I can eat a cheeseburger in a suit.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Peter fidgeted the whole ride, feeling incredibly self conscious and over dressed.  More so when he saw where they were going to be eating.  Tony led the way into the tiny diner, greeting the middle-aged server and the line cook visible through a small pass-through into the kitchen.  He knew their names.  Apparently, he was a regular.

“You look pretty young to be a lawyer.”

Peter looked up at the woman whose name was apparently ‘Lorraine’.  “Oh no, I’m…I’m not a lawyer.”

“You don’t say…never see men in here in a suit unless they’re lawyers.  You just a fancy dresser, then, huh?”

“Um…yeah?”  Peter glanced down at the napkin wrapped silverware she’d placed in front of him and smirked at the sight of what appeared to be grease on the spoon.  Good thing he didn’t need silverware to eat a burger.

“What are you and your fancy man getting today, Tony?”

Tony raised an eyebrow at Peter, gesturing to the menu.  Peter, however, just shook his head.  “Just…double whatever you usually get.”

“Well, Lorraine, you heard the man.”

“Hey, Charlie, you hear all that?  I need two Dead Cows wearing Yellow Blankets, two orders of Frog Sticks and we need ‘em Stark Naked.”

Peter couldn’t help but snort as he tried to hold in his laughter.

“Be right back with the shakes, Dear.”  Lorraine departed the table with a wink, unused menus stashed under her arm.

Peter took the time to look around the diner now that they were alone.  It was old, but despite the literal greasy spoon, appeared to be clean.  There were a few other diners, but everyone seemed to be minding their own business.  Every booth had a tiny juke box sitting against the wall, and with nothing else to look at, Peter was happy to slide along the seat and take a closer look at the music selection.  “Oh wow, there’s some great really old music on this thing, did you bring change?”

“Of course.”  Tony laughed.  “Gotta have quarters for the jukebox and the pinball.  It’s part of the place’s charm.”

“There’s pinball, too!”  Peter craned his neck to find the game.

“It’s by the bathrooms.  I’ll challenge you to a few games after we eat.  Only fair warning you though, Beautiful, I’ve had the High Score on it for well over a year.”

“That’s really going to suck for you when I beat you tonight, then.”  

The burgers were surprisingly good.  Juicy, covered in gooey melted cheese, grilled onions, lettuce, pickle, tomato and some kind of ‘special sauce’ that Peter swore was just ketchup, mustard and mayo mixed together.  The milkshakes were thick, the fries were salty, and Peter was quick to declare it his new favorite burger joint in New York.  He even managed to beat Tony’s high score on pinball and preened with pride the entire way home while he listened to Tony grumble about a promised re-match.

As it turned out, the diner became a familiar haunt for them.  Several times a week after working late in the lab, they’d wind up in ‘their’ booth.  While they started out on opposite sides, after a couple of weeks, Tony just began sliding into the seat beside Peter, settling an arm around his shoulders, speaking softly into his ear, stealing french fries from his plate.  

—

Tony couldn’t believe that he had to hear about Peter’s bithday from Jarvis.  That hurt.  Far more than it should have.  The butler had shared the somewhat troubling exchange in which Peter had debated whether it was possible to have a birthday before someone was officially born.  Jarvis now thought Peter was utterly insane, but still seemed to like the kid.  It was impossible not to.

What did you do for your lover on his pre-Birthday?  They couldn’t have a party.  Peter had no one to invite and that was just going to be depressing.  He couldn’t give Peter a physical gift because he’d never be able to take it with him when he left.   If Tony ever let him leave, anyway.  A trip was out of the question, Peter would balk about being away from the Nullifier for that long.  He could convince the boy to take a few hours off, but more than a day…that was never going to happen.  Never mind that they’d already been at the job of repairing it for months.

The answer came to him quite unexpectedly, but it really was perfect.  It was going to be expensive.  It was going to take time, but Tony had both.

August tenth, after breakfast, Tony convinced Peter to take the morning off, though he said nothing about Peter’s birthday.  Not yet.  Peter didn’t suspect anything until Tony pulled his sports car into a parking spot at a lot for Forest Park in Queens.  Only then did the teenager pivot in his seat to fix Tony with a questioning look.  His confusion clear on his face.

“Happy B-day Peter!”

Peter just stared at him.  “Uh…thanks.  I guess.”

He clearly had no idea why Tony had brought him to Forest Park, but that was all going to become clear in a moment.  “I couldn’t think of what to do to make this special.  Thought a lot about it.  Had a lot of crazy ideas.  Settled on this one.  So…Peter, are you ready to meet your very much alive and breathing parents?”

If Peter looked surprised now, Tony was sure that finding out they were S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents was going to be a real Kodak moment.