#hilarity ensues because no one knows how to be honest with their feelings | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

adarlingwrites · 4 years ago

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Leave it to the Wind

Summary: Between deadlines, an awful transport system, and aswangs lurking about in the shadows, you have much to worry about as a college student in Manila, and it's so much that your social life is practically dead. Your wind people roommates want to help you remedy that.

Words: 9343

Relationships: The Kambal/Reader (Crispin/Reader/Basilio)

Warnings: Adult content, alcohol, brief scene of sexual harassment

Author’s Notes: God, the fandom is so thirsty for the Kambal, and so am I. Finally, some Filipino himbo representation.

The premise is: Hannah and Amie decides to play matchmaker. Hilarity ensues. Smut ensues. Please be nice, I based the characterizations of the character on the Netflix series and Trese wiki pages since I couldn't get my hands on the original comics yet oof. Some words, like terms of endearment and curse words, will remain in Filipino. Translations are provided. Reader is AFAB and is referred to with female pronouns.

Reposting this from AO3 with all three chapters in one post. A Filipino (Taglish) translation is in the works!

You don’t know how they managed to convince you, to be honest.

You rarely ever go out at night anymore. So many strange incidents transpire in Manila’s narrow streets. Just recently, you’ve heard of a new story about a tikbalang who allegedly participated in illegal street races.

So when your roommates and friends Amie and Hannah invited you for a night out, you hesitated. You gave them every excuse you can think of; you needed to do laundry, you needed to study, you needed to finish a project, and so on.

You know that the two of them are wind people, but you can’t help but think. Which of the various stories you had been hearing are real? What else in this world you haven’t witnessed yet?

“Aw, you’re such a buzzkill! Pretty please? You don’t go out with us as often. Enjoy yourself a little,” Amie whines, lying on the sofa of your living room.

On the other hand, Hannah turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face. “C’mon, get dressed already,” she commanded. “There are some total hotties we’d like you to meet! One of them might catch your eye!”

“I told you, I don’t need a relationship. You two try this every week. How do you even know so many people?” you retort, laughing softly at yourself.

“Well, our night lives are active,” Hannah retorted. “Don’t forget our sex lives!” the other added. Hearing those words, you felt your face get flushed with heat.

You needed a good fuck.

“Damn it, fine! As long as you pay for me.”

They finally got you to say yes.

As the night went on, you went to several bars, and you swore that you had explored every crevice of the city. It doesn’t help that the guy Amie and Hannah were with, a tall, dark and handsome man with flowing locks of black hair, drove like a demon. You got around quickly in no time.

Around an hour after midnight, you’re all exhausted from a night of dancing and mingling. None of the people your friends introduced to you caught your attention. At that point, you just wanted a stiff drink to unwind.

Voicing it to your drinking buddies, they nod in agreement.

“I know just the place, in Malate,” the man you’re with said. “Quiet. Discreet. I can take you there, if you want.”

“You mean The Diabolical, right? Let’s go! Text Crispin and Basilio, they might be hangin’ there too,” Amie croons.

A chuckle escapes your lips upon hearing their names. “Huh? Were they named after the characters in Jose Rizal’s novel?”

“I think so? Whatever! But seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!”

The remark made you laugh so hard, you swore you can be heard in the next city. “What the fuck! Amie, gaga ka, Sisa was their mom! The context of that scene was rough.”

Hannah’s mischievous grin spreads on her face once more, and she gently elbows your side. “Well, if you’re lucky, in this context you’d be crying their names while your eyes roll to the back of your head.”

You’ll never admit it, but you had hoped all their teasing would come true.

It didn’t take long for the four of you to reach your destination. As you enter The Diabolical, a strange chill envelopes you. The air feels different inside; it’s almost as if you stepped in a different world. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, but when you looked around, you saw a duwende sitting by the bar. Or was it called a nuno? At the end of the bar, you saw them; two men both dressed in black suits. One has short hair, while the other one has longer, reaching past his shoulders. However, they’re facing away from you. Only the back of their head and part of their cheeks were visible where you stood.

You snapped out of it when the man you three are with spoke up. “I’m gonna call it a night. Have fun, you three.”

“For real? Wow Maliksi, this is the first time I ever saw you wanting to leave early. Aren’t you gonna stop by and say hi to Alex?” Hannah asks him.

“Maybe next time,” Maliksi answers back, a somber expression on his face. “Oh em gee, did you two fight? Wait, what are you two?” Amie asks.

“Whatever. It’s complicated. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Your friends nodded and let Maliksi be. He waves at your group, and heads out the door. The engine of his car roars to life, and his car screeches away.

As the car moved farther away though, it seems that the screeching of the tires turned into hoofbeats.

Perhaps it’s just your imagination.

“Amie! Hannah! Have a drink! Hey, who’s that with you? Is that the person you’ve been wanting us to meet for ages now?”

Your head turns to where the voice was coming from; one of the men in the suits, the one with short hair in particular. You finally had a good look on their faces.

Twins?

“Crispin! Meet our friend! This is…”

As Amie and Hannah introduce you to the Twins, you can’t help but stare. You took the sight of their features in; they’re tall, with broad shoulders, and hard muscle underneath that black suit and white tie ensemble. They have wide noses with a high bridge, prominent bone structure, and a prominent widow’s peak.

Merciful Bathala, they’re gorgeous.

What caught your attention the most are their eyes. They're pitch black, save for the small reflection of light.

Are these people even human?

“Stare at them like that any longer and they might melt,” Amie teases. The two of your friends are giving you an ear-splitting grin due to your reaction to the Twins.

“I, uh-” you stuttered, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be shy. You can sit between us, miss. We’re all friends here,” the twin with the longer hair says. If the other one is Crispin, then this must be Basilio.

Behind you, your friends are already giggling. They took their places next to the twins and leaned on their biceps. Across from you, the bartender comes to take your order.

“What’ll it be, kid?” he asks.

For some reason, you’re panicking. Maybe it’s because of the alcohol in your system. Or maybe it’s because you’re sandwiched between the twins. “Uh, what would you recommend, manong?”

Laughter erupted from the twins. “Hank, she called you manong!” Basilio teases while grinning like a fucking dog. “Geez, are you really that old?” Crispin eggs him on, giving him a shit-eating grin. Hank takes a wet rag he uses to wipe down the countertop and strikes the two down. “You goddamn assholes!”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing with them.

“Ow! Alright, we’re sorry, we’re sorry. Get them the best seller, Hank. We’ll pay for their tab,” Basilio says, and Hannah and Amie squeals with joy.

“Oh em gee, you boys are so sweet! Thank youuu!”

As Hank prepares you a drink, you try conversing with the twins. “You two seem fun to have as drinking buddies.”

Hank turns around to reach a bottle from the shelf. “Those two are mischievous little shits, that’s for sure. You know, when these two were kids...”

“Hey man, don’t embarrass us like that in front of our new friend,” Crispin whines.

While the three continues fucking around, you leaned back slightly to glimpse at Amie, who was trying to get your attention for a while now. She points to her phone, and you fetch yours from your bag.

You read your group chat with them. “Soooo, do you like, like them?” Hannah’s message said.

“You’re into them aren’t you? You got so shy around them, it’s so cute!” Amie’s message said.

“Right? It’s rare to see you so flustered!”

You typed away furiously at your phone, cautious to not let the twins beside you see the conversation.

“Well, they’re an improvement from the ones you introduced me to earlier. Easier on the eyes, too…”

Your friends giggled, and as their drinks arrived, they stood up. “Girl, we’re gonna leave you with them, there’s some super hot tikbalangs who just came in the bar. Byeeee!”

“Hey, wait!”

They didn’t heed your words and went to sit on the tikbalangs’ laps.

Fuck, tikbalangs are real? Is Maliksi a tikbalang too?

“And off they go, flirting with those beasts after they’ve used us for drinks,” Crispin laments, voice dripping with light-hearted sarcasm.

“It’s not like it’s the first time we got used by them though,” Basilio adds, cringing.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

Basilio’s head whips towards you, sweat gathering on his brow. “Seriously?! Shit, what did they say about us?”

“All good things, don’t you worry,” you answered.

“Nah, I need to hear what they said word for word,” the twin with long hair responds. “This is making me paranoid!”

Crispin moves closer to you, Basilio puts a friendly arm around your shoulder, and you can only smile. All of you are inebriated and if you were sober, and if someone else dared to get this close to you, you might’ve slapped them. But you feel good about the Twins, and your roommates never put you in harm’s way, so your trust for them extended to the brothers, somehow.

“Just tell us already,” Crispin slurs. “Tell us what they said about us. We’re curious.”

“Fine, fine. Okay, Amie and Hannah mentioned your names when Maliksi suggested that we head here to drink. Then, I mentioned that your names came from Rizal’s novels.”

“Then Amie said,” you continued, pausing briefly to come up with an impression of your roommate’s speech. “‘Seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!’ Fuck, it was so messed up!”

“That’s messed up, alright,” Basilio sputters, his face a deep shade of crimson. “I’m this hot and those are the only details they can spare?!”

“Ok, but that Sisa joke was kind of funny though. But it was still fucked up,” Crispin adds, and he takes a sip of his drink.

“Hold your horses, the story’s not done yet,” you say. You’re starting to feel more confident around the two.

Your conversation went places, until you found yourselves drinking until three in the morning, and at that point, it’s only just the four of you in the bar; Hank, the Twins, and you. Even Hannah and Amie are nowhere to be seen. Knowing them, they probably took the tikbalangs they were flirting with back to your apartment.

They didn’t even wait for you. Looks like they’re really setting you up tonight. Maybe they wanted the apartment to themselves tonight, and they got exactly what they wanted.

You had planned on getting up to go to the restroom, but when you tried standing up, you almost fell from the chair. The Twins caught you before you landed face first against the floor.

“She’s had enough to drink,” Hank comments. They set you on a chair with a backrest. “How will she get home? We can’t send her off in a cab at this rate. The train doesn't run this late either.”

“Hannah left her behind too,” Crispin adds.

“Hey, how are we gonna deal with this?” Basilio asks. “We can get you home once we sober up a little. It’s fine if you-”

Basilio never got to finish what he was going to say, because you nodded off against his stomach, and puked your lunch out.

You don’t remember anything after that.

When you awaken, the sun is already high up, and the first thing that greets you is the fan in the ceiling. Your muscles are screaming at you, and your throat feels dry. Memories of last night came crashing back and you started sweating in horror. Maybe it’s just a drunken dream, but it felt all too real.

You were flirting with these gorgeous twins, had too much to drink, and at some point puked all over one of the twins’ shoes.

And now, you don’t know whose bedroom you are in. You check yourself, and you’re still wearing the same clothes, with nothing out of place. There are no bruises or marks on your body either. You looked around you, but there was no one else in the room.

The doors crack open slightly, and you see two pairs of void-black eyes.

“I… um… good morning?”

“It’s… already 2 in the afternoon,” one of them says. He has long hair. This one is the twin you threw up on.

“Why don’t you have some lunch?” the other one said.

You just nodded and said nothing else, ashamed of yourself. You threw up on one of them and now you’re eating at their table. You just wanted the ground to swallow you alive.

“Sorry for puking on you last night,” you near-whispered to Basilio after you swallowed your first bite of food.

The silence broke when Crispin roared with laughter, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. Meanwhile, Basilio was glaring daggers at his brother. He’s frowning like a child whose toy got taken from him. “Sure, keep laughing, kuya.”

“I’ll never show my face here again, I promise,” you say to them, hiding your face behind your hands.

“What’re you talking about? Forget about it. We’re friends now, right?” Basilio tells you, smiling. “But next time, vomit on my brother too.”

“No one’s throwing up because I won’t be allowing any of you to get wasted that bad ever again,” Hank announces as he enters the room with a carafe in his hand. “Bossing’s not gonna like it if the bar ends up smelling as bad as Basilio’s room. Here, have some coffee.”

“We should introduce you to bossing next time too. She’s not here at the moment,” Crispin adds. “Let’s do this again next week.”

The invitation made you smile, and you poured yourself a cup of coffee. You continued eating the rest of your meal.

“...my room doesn’t smell that, right?” Basilio asks after a few moments of silence.

“Gago, it stinks so bad. It’s why we made the guest stay at my room, because if she stayed at yours she could’ve died from how bad it is,” Crispin exclaims. “Seriously, how can you live with bringing women to your room at that point?”

“Kuya, you’re embarrassing me to our guest!”

Translations for non-Filipino speaking folks:

bossing: a somewhat affectionate way to say “boss”. Comes from the old tradition of adding -eng or -ing to ones name to make a nickname, e.g. Luciana - Lucing

Gago/gaga (ka): (you) idiot/moron - someone stupid, foolish or ignorant

Tikbalang: creature from Filipino mythology similar to a centaur. They are hulking beasts with a horse's head.

manong: a term for endearment to an elderly male relative, or elderly men in general. Originally an Ilokano term referring to the first born son in a nuclear family.

kuya: big brother. Can be used to refer to one's own older brother, someone else's older brother, or an older peer or male acquaintance.

Author’s Notes: This chapter was heavily inspired by Bita and the Botflies' song Manghuhula.

Warnings: brief scene of sexual harrassment

After washing up, the Twins accompanied you to the gate, exchanging glances at each other behind your back. Little did they know, you definitely noticed it.

“Wait,” Basilio says, tapping your shoulder lightly with a large hand.

Crispin takes his phone out of his pocket. His younger brother proceeds to do the same. “Give us your phone. We’ll add our numbers, and you can text us if something happens,” he says.

“Or when you get home safe,” Basilio adds.

You look at the two of them back and forth. “This isn’t just an elaborate excuse for the two of you to get my number, right?”

Neither of the two spoke, giving each other a nervous glance.

Their reaction made you laugh out loud, and you took out your phone from your bag. “Here. I’ll give you my Facespace too.”

With the tension broken, the three of you exchange a chuckle. You punch in your number in their phones, while they did the same to yours. Crispin looks over his brother’s shoulder and frowns.

“Epal,” Crispin says to his brother, snatching your phone away from him. The older twin types something in, and it’s the younger one’s turn to stick his nose in. Basilio attempts to get the phone back, cursing all the time.

“You’re going to break her phone, gago,” the older twin curses, pushing a palm against Basilio’s face. “Then let it go! You’re the epal, I wasn’t done yet,” the younger one snaps back.

You give them a look of irritation, and check out what they’re arguing about.

“What the hell are you two grown-ass men fighting about?” you ask as you butt in to look at what they’re doing.

A loud snort bubbles from you as you see it; Basilio added “the hot twin” next to his contact name. Crispin added “the hotter twin”. Now, the former wanted to outdo his older brother.

Against your better judgment, you say, “You’re twins. You look like each other. You’re both hot. Now stop fighting over my phone.”

Perhaps it’s the afternoon heat, but there is a tinge of red in their cheeks after your remark. You waved them goodbye as you got in a tricycle that’ll get you to the nearest train station.

The MRT, in some strange miraculous twist of fate, isn’t as packed as usual. It’s still populated, but there were a few seats waiting to be taken. You sit down somewhere away from direct sunlight, and you take out your phone to tell Hannah and Amie that you’re on the way home.

The first thing you see is a text from Basilio. Then, a text from Crispin. You tell them both that you’re on the train now, completely forgetting about messaging your roommates. To pass the time, you launch the Facespace app and decide to look up their profiles, only to find out that they’ve already sent you a friend request.

Upon seeing Crispin’s profile, you did your damn best to stifle a laugh.

His work description says “works at the Krusty Krab,” but that wasn’t the craziest thing about his profile. At first, the Bible verse in his bio caught you off guard, thinking that someone like him didn’t seem religious, but when you quickly looked up “Ezekiel 23:20,” you did your best not to howl with laughter.

Basilio’s isn’t any better.

In his work description, he put “Model at For Her Magazine,” and “edi sa puso mo.” Then you scroll down to see a thirst trap of him pulling his shirt up with his teeth, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again. Well, at least that work description is believable.

They’re- what was that term your younger university friends were using again?- himbos.

They’re definitely himbos.

Arriving at your place, you slot your key inside the doorknob and twist. As you enter the door, the heavy, musky scent of sex and sweat hits your face, and you regret getting too wasted last night and losing your chance to hook up with one of the Twins.

Or both.

Both?

Regardless, at least they’ve invited you again to hang out next week.

You raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at the scene before you. Cans of beer litter the living room, and your roommates are taking a nap by the couch. A tikbalang comes out of the bathroom, glamor off, and you snort as you watch him duck under the door frame because of his massive height.

“It’s already four in the afternoon. Time to go, big guy.”

He nods awkwardly in acknowledgment, morphing into his human disguise, and exiting your apartment.

You sit between your roommates, rousing them from their sleep. “I’m not going to clean this mess up,” you tell them, motioning to the trashed state of the living room, and reaching for the remote to turn the TV on. You just want to take a shower afterwards and sleep in your own bed tonight.

After rubbing the sleep from their eyes, your roommates near-tackles you on the couch, a curious, excited look on their faces. You forgot all about what you were watching and stared at them in surprise.

“So how did it go? Did you get to hook up with any of them?” Amie asks.

“Or both of them?” Hannah adds.

“Gaga, nothing like that happened.”

The two of them let you go with disappointed looks on their faces. “So sayang! Here we were thinking you finally have a sex life,” one of them says as you lean back on the backrest, closing your eyes as they continue to pester you for details.

“Why are you two so determined to get me to screw someone?” you finally snapped, amused and irked at the same time.

“Because you’ve been doing nothing but totally stressing yourself out! See how super fun it is to let go every now and then?”

“Thanks for the new drinking buddies, girls, but I have my fingers to keep me company. Hookups are too much work,” you lie to them, eyes still closed.

“That’s a toe-curling, full-body orgasm you’re missing out on, girl!”

“That’s assuming that the person I’m with knows what they’re doing,” you retorted.

One of them pokes your side with an elbow, and you assume it’s Hannah. “The Twins do.”

You opened your eyes, and you guessed right; it’s Hannah. You give her a look, before rolling your eyes, appearing to look disinterested. The smirk tugging at the edge of your lips says otherwise, though.

“So what happened last night?” Amie asks.

“I got wasted and threw up on Basilio’s shoes. Then, I ended up sleeping in Crispin’s room. When I woke up, they fed me and sent me home,” you tell them. Your roommates giggle at the story.

“Ah, speaking of which, I gotta let them know I got home,” you said off-hand, and somehow the remark only spurred your wind people roommates on.

“Yieee, you’re friends with them on Facespace already!” Amie quips, leaning in to see what you’re typing. Playfully, you move your phone away from her to conceal what you’re typing.

“Make a group chat with them!” Hannah exclaims, taking your phone away from you. You tried taking it back, but Amie joins in the mischief and blocks you from doing so.

When you got your phone back, the deed was done, and the chat was renamed to a single eggplant emoji. The like button was replaced by an eggplant emoji too.

Panicking, you add your roommates to the group to avoid looking suspicious, and swiftly type up a defense.

“Please ignore that, Hannah made this chat using my account.”

The teasing never stopped after that.

Weeks passed and you never bothered to change it, though.

It’s been about two months since your first encounter with the Twins. You’re becoming a familiar face at The Diabolical, going every Saturday to see them. Sometimes Hannah and Amie didn’t accompany you anymore. You’ve met the Twins’ bossing a few times, who turned out to be none other than Alexandra Trese. You’ve heard of her exploits and the two imposing bodyguards who were almost always with her. It surprised you that they’re none other than the Twins you knew, but it made perfect sense. Those two were jacked, and those muscles aren’t only for show.

Of course, because of your increasing presence in the bar, it didn’t take long for the rumors to circulate. Word on the street is both of the Twins had a thing for you, and neither is making a move out of consideration for the other. They are waiting for you to move.

You elected to ignore them, perfectly happy with your arrangement of having two handsome men to keep you company while you unwind. The thought of getting together with one of them, or even both of them did cross your mind a few times, however.

Ultimately, you wouldn’t know what to do if the day comes that you’ll have to confront how you feel and choose between the two.

Do you have to?

Crispin and Basilio are twins, but they’re distinct from each other. The older is more serious, with a dryer sense of humor, while the younger is goofier, and somewhat softer. One complements the other, and they’re both good company despite their differences.

Speak of the devil. Your phone buzzes and you see that the eggplant chat is active. The Twins are inviting you to The Diabolical again.

“See you guys at eight,” you type in. Someone reacts with an eggplant to your message. Then the next few messages were nothing but eggplant emojis, followed by Basilio sending “#TeamTalong”. Crispin cusses him out for it, but sends the same message right after.

Yeah, that became a thing among the five of you.

You and the wind girls got dressed and took a taxi to the bar, your favorite jacket draped over your shoulders. Pressured by your roommates, you wore something nicer tonight; a black faux leather dress that hugs your figure deliciously. The shiny fabric added to the effect. The six bottles of Pulang Tikbalang beer the three of you shared before going out might’ve contributed to your newfound bravado.

But now that you’re actually wearing it outside your apartment, you feel a little reluctant.

“Maybe wearing this is a bad idea,” you mutter to no one in particular, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear out of self-consciousness.

Amie taps you from behind. “Oh hush, that outfit is totally sexy,” she comments. “Finally ready to get dicked down tonight, girl?”

“Shhh, gaga ka, manong driver can hear you.”

That didn’t deter them from making more inappropriate comments, much to the manong's ire.

It’s nine already when you get there, you’re in the Philippines after all. The merriment is already in full swing when you step through the door. Hannah and Amie went ahead and sat next to their lay of the week. The Twins wave you over from their usual spot, but before you can reach them, a man you’ve never seen before tries to get your attention, snaking an arm around your waist.

“Hey baby. You’re a regular here, right? Want to drink with me?”

“Sorry, I’m here with someone else,” you tell him, moving away.

“Ah, here to see the Twins? Why don’t you ditch them for a change of pace and come with me, babe?”

“Not interested,” you flat out said. “Please move, or I’ll make you move.”

To your surprise, the man drops his glamor and reveals himself to be a kapre. He looms over you, cigar in his mouth, and you can feel the tension rising. People are starting to stare, and your friends took notice of it too.

“Try,” he huffs, puffing smoke to your face. You give him a sour glare while trying not to cough.

Before your roommates or the Twins could come to your aid, you panicked and saw an empty bottle of Pulang Tikbalang on a nearby table. Emboldened by the alcohol in your veins, you shatter the bottle and point the jagged edge at the hulking beast, hands shaking. You are a tiny thing compared to the enormous creature before you, after all.

“Don’t you dare look down on me.”

“Already doing that, honey.”

“I’m not your honey,” you say as you press the edge against his stomach, not enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt.

“I love it when they fight back,” the kapre croons.

Under the haze of alcohol, you were more than ready to shove the edge in, consequences be damned.

Before things could escalate, Crispin takes the broken bottle off of your hands and steers you away from the stranger, while Basilio steps in to defuse the tension. “Hey, why don’t you back off, pal? Our friend said no. You wouldn’t want us to tell our bossing to ban you from the place because of this misunderstanding now, don’t you?”

Heart in your throat, you turn to the Twins, then to the kapre. The tree giant pauses, looking at the three of you, then smirks.

“Heh. Fine. But if you torpe whelps don’t make a move, I will.”

The giant puts his glamor back on and skulks away.

“Wow, what a jerk! He only left you alone when the boys stepped in,” Hannah quips, tossing her hair in indignation.

“You almost didn’t need rescuing, but I’d hate to help Hank mop the blood off the floor later,” Basilio comments, nudging you gently with an elbow. His eyes go a little lower from your face, and you see him look away.

You realized Crispin hasn’t let go of you yet.

“C’mon, let’s just go,” you tell everyone. Crispin proceeds to remove his hand away from your shoulder, and you take your usual seats by the bar.

The bar is loud, but the silence between the three of you is deafening. Even Hank seems to have taken notice, eyeing your usually loud and cheerful group.

“What’s up with you three? What happened back there?” the older man asks, leaning over the bar top.

“Just a handsy kapre who couldn’t take no for an answer. I won’t let it spoil the night,” you answer him.

“That’s the spirit. Holler if he tries something like that again, I’ll have him kicked out,” Hank replies, setting down three ice-cold beers in front of you guys.

Yet somehow, the conversation never livened up.

Three bottles of Pulang Tikbalang later, you’ve had enough.

“This is about what that kapre said, isn’t it?” you finally say, slightly pissed.

The Twins look at each other with guilty expressions, and simultaneously nod.

“Do you boys wanna talk about it?”

They look at each other again. “Shit, this is awkward,” Crispin comments, scratching his head. Basilio nods in agreement, uncharacteristically silent. “We didn’t want to pressure you into anything you didn’t want to do,” the older twin continues.

“Look, I don’t want to ruin my relationship with my kuya just because we’re interested in the same girl,” Basilio says. “Same here,” Crispin adds.

“So we were waiting for you to make your own move,” Basilio continues.

“Ah. So the rumors are true,” you sighed.

“We’ll accept whatever outcome there is. If you choose me, or Basilio, or neither because this is fucking messy, we totally get it,” the older twin says, leaning back to stare at the ceiling.

Now the decision rests in your hands.

“Why don’t we talk about this somewhere more private?” you ask them.

You watch as both of them gulp. “Where do you wanna talk?” Basilio asks.

“Anywhere private.”

“I just cleaned my room earlier. Why don’t we continue this there?”

You nod, and they lead you away from the bar.

Looks like it’s going to be a long night.

Translations for non-Filipino speakers:

epal: in Filipino slang, usually refers to a person who inappropriately presents himself in a situation or butts into a conversation.

kapre: a tree-giant from Filipino mythology. Often described as very tall, dark, and hairy. Almost never seen without a cigar.

sayang: literally means waste. Can be used alone as an expression similar to "what a waste!"

torpe: someone who cannot spit their romantic or sexual feelings out to a crush or love interest

III

Author’s Notes:

Warnings: Smut. Filthy smut. Writer-is-definitely-going-to-the-second-circle-of-the-Seven-Circles-of-Hell-levels-of-filthy smut. Bawal bata, tulog na. If you're under 18 please turn back.

After the door closes behind the three of you, you sit on the bed, while Crispin sits on a chair near his brother’s desk. Basilio locks the door, and leans against it, unable to look at you.

“Right. So. How are we going to deal with this?” you ask them, crossing your legs.

“Don’t ask us,” Crispin says, swiveling the chair to face you. “You’re the one caught in the middle after all.”

Curse his choice of words.

“This is too weird,” Basilio speaks up. “If you want me to unlock the door, just say the word. We can walk out of this like nothing happened.”

“And then what? Things are going to be awkward between the three of us, I just know it,” you say to him, palming the back of your neck. “Things might get awkward with Amie and Hannah too, and I live with them. I don’t want our tropa to disband just because of relationship drama.”

“What about Amie and Hannah? Is it because we have history with those two?” Crispin asks.

“They’ve been trying to set me up with either of you. The fact that they also slept with you in the past also doesn’t help. Shit, this is messy.”

“Er, um,” Basilio stutters. “That might’ve been our fault.”

You furrow your brow and cross your arms. “Keep going.”

The Twins look at each other, as if gauging who should explain the situation. “So, we remained in contact after being used as a prize for bossing’s race with Maliksi, right?” Crispin starts.

“Uh huh.”

“Well, they mentioned a third roommate in passing and joked about lending us to her. Of course we blew them off, then Amie showed us a picture of you. We got curious and asked them to introduce you,” Basilio continues.

“I didn’t expect us five to become friends. And now we’re in this mess,” Crispin adds.

You look at them back and forth, and laugh in resignation. Elbows digging against your lap and palms pressed against your face, you rub your face and run it through your hair. “Amazing. Just amazing. See, I have a problem too.”

The Twins didn’t respond, eyes fixated on you.

“I like the two of you.”

You feel the air shift around you. Basilio’s standing upright by the door now, and Crispin straightened up too. The room is so quiet, you can hear them gulp in anticipation for what will happen next.

“There. I said it. The reason why I haven’t made a move at all is because of this exact moment that I was dreading. I didn’t want to choose,” you admit, feeling the blood rush to your head. “I just wanted for us three to stay like that, drinking buddies sprinkled with sexual tension.”

“And you’re in the middle, enjoying our attention,” Crispin says, crossing his arms.

“Selfish, I know,” you admit, head hanging low.

This is it, the moment that can make or break you three.

“Us three. If only...” you whisper, only for the words to fall flat on your tongue

You stand up, gathering your things and carrying your bag. “Nevermind. What a mess we’re in. I’ll go so you two can sort things out between the two of you. It’s been a fun ride.”

Basilio doesn’t move from the door, and behind you, you can hear Crispin getting up from his seat.

“We can still make this work, right kuya?” Basilio starts, looking over your head to give his brother a knowing look.

“Yeah, I think so,” Crispin replies. “What was that you said? The three of us?”

Your eyes widen, and you look at them back and forth. Their bodies are dangerously close to yours. Now you’re literally caught in the middle.

“I- uh…”

“I think we can work out an arrangement,” Basilio whispers, one hand moving to hold yours.

“Only if you want to,” Crispin adds, his breath kissing the back of your neck.

“I don’t want to lose either of you,” Basilio adds.

“Same here.”

Damn it all.

Giving in to your darkest, most hidden desires, you lean in to capture Basilio’s lips with yours, leaving his black eyes wide open in surprise. They flutter close, and he savors the kiss, slipping a tongue in. Then you turn to Crispin, and you give him the same sweet kiss as well.

“Damn, I didn’t mean like, now,” Basilio mutters, feeling the front of his trousers get tighter as he watches you make out with his brother.

Bringing your attention back to the younger twin, you loosen his tie, while you push out your ass to grind against Crispin. “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

“Wait, are you sure about this? All of us drank tonight… we don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” Crispin says, moving his hips away from you. Basilio pauses too, and wraps his hands around your wrists to still your hands, a look of concern on his face.

“Kuya’s right.”

“I’m a grown woman. I might’ve had a few bottles, but I know what I want,” you reassure them, waiting for the two to make a move. “I know I want you two for months.”

Basilio lets go of your hands and lets you do as you please, a cocky smirk on his lips. Behind you, you can feel Crispin’s gloved hands reaching for the zipper of your dress. “Really? How much do you want us? C’mon, say it,” Basilio asks, moving in to place kisses on your neck.

“I wanna hear it too,” Crispin whispers against your shoulder, and he punctuates it with a light kiss.

All of a sudden, you felt shy at the prospect of confessing your fantasies out loud. “Why don’t I just show you boys?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this one,” Basilio teases. “Consider it as payback for throwing up all over my shoes.”

“You’re still- ah!- mad about that?” you ask him, gasping in the middle of doing so when you felt a hand snake between your legs from behind. The older twin slips his fingers past your underwear, circling your clit with slow strokes.

“Not mad, I just want things to be fair,” Basilio teases, pulling your dress down. He gives your breasts a squeeze, fondling and rolling your nipples until they harden, and he seals his lips over your right one. Crispin moves from behind you and he takes his place next to his twin, lathing his tongue over the left. All four of their hands pawed at your flesh greedily.

You were at a loss for words because of how good they’re making you feel, soft moans bubbling from your throat.

“Speechless already, huh?” Crispin mumbles against your skin.

“Ngh! The wind girls weren’t lying, you two know what you’re doing,” you gasped, face flushed as you watched the Twins lavish their attention on your breasts.

“Shhh, stop changing the subject. Play along, or neither of us will make you cum,” he adds, pausing to give you a teasing lick, and resting his tongue on top of the hardened bud. On the other hand, Basilio is sucking like a starved babe while squeezing your still clothed behind.

You fake a scoff of indignation and grin. “Fine. I- oh fuck- want you two so much, I’ve been fantasizing for weeks.”

Basilio pauses to address you. “Describe them.”

You’re a little mortified, but the alcohol in your system pushes you to be bolder. “I imagined Basilio punishing me for ruining his shoes.”

“And how did he do that?” Crispin’s voice.

“He asked me to suck him off,” you start, and a pinch on your bottom from the subject of your fantasy tells you that he wanted to hear more details. “He fucked my face while pulling my hair and told me how good I was the whole time and that he forgave me.”

“What about me? What fantasies did you have?” Crispin asks again.

Your breath hitched in your throat but you pushed on. “Hearing how you scolded Basilio, I imagined you taking me from behind and saying the meanest, dirtiest things possible.”

The Twins looked at each other, and stopped, their lips leaving your breasts with a lewd pop. “You want to make them all come true?” Basilio asks.

Cheeks burning, you give them a curt nod.

The two of them lead you to the bed, where Crispin puts you on all fours, and he takes his place from behind. On the other hand, Basilio is standing near the edge of the bed, the bulge in his pants inches away from your face. You stare at it, licking your lips.

As you undid Basilio’s pants, he shrugs off his suit jacket and takes off his tie, then he takes off his dress shirt, revealing his abs and the trail of dark hair on his lower abdomen, disappearing into his briefs. From behind, you hear fabric shifting, then Crispin peels your panties off of you. He brings a gloved hand against your skin in a loud smack, making you cry out.

“Ah, wait, we need a safeword,” Crispin mentions, soothingly squeezing your skin.

“What about Eternos?” Basilio suggests, and Crispin cocks an eyebrow. “Wait, you mean, like the game?”

You stifle a laugh. “I’m fine with it,” you say to them, and they take it as a signal to continue.

The older twin dips a gloved finger between your folds, gathering your wetness, and tsked. “Look at you, already so fucking wet. You want this so much, huh?”

You nod frantically, then Basilio stills your head. “Open your mouth, baby. Tongue out.”

You oblige, and Basilio fishes his cock out of his briefs. Your eyes grow wider as you take in the sight of it; girthy, with a nice length, and a few veins running on the underside. You wonder if Crispin’s is the same. The twin in front of you lightly smacks his member against your tongue, and you proceed to lick it, running from the base to the tip, slicking it with saliva. You swirl your tongue around it, then try to slide it in your mouth as smoothly as possible.

As Basilio begins to breathe harder with each bob of your head, Crispin pulls your ass towards his face, and a choked moan escapes your lips as you feel his mouth on your heat, toying with your folds before he finally finds that sensitive nub. The older twin proceeds to lick and suck at it, eating you out like you’re the best damn meal of his life.

Meanwhile, you push a palm against Basilio’s thigh to make him pause, and before he can ask you if you’re fine, you take his balls in your mouth and fondle him with your tongue. Your hand pumps his neglected cock as you did so.

“Shit! Your mouth feels so damn good,” he hisses, breathing hard. When you take his dick back into your mouth, Basilio gathers your hair and uses it as a handle, watching his length disappear in your mouth over and over, his black eyes hazy with lust and his mouth whispering words of praise.

Crispin looks at his brother with a hint of envy, cock painfully hard against his trousers. He unzips it for relief, and proceeds to stroke himself as he continues to prepare you.

“Hey, Basilio, got any lube?”

“Um, there’s- ungh- a bottle of it under the pillow.”

“...you keep lube under your pillow? What the- and condoms? Can’t you put them in your drawers or something?”

Basilio doesn’t give his brother a response and focuses his attention on you. You gasp against his cock as you felt a cold, gloved hand prod against your asshole, and goosebumps formed on your flesh as you felt the cold lubricant smearing against your entrance. Crispin pushes his lubed thumb in, and you cry out in pleasure, your jaw opening wider for Basilio to claim. Then, two more fingers prod at your pussy, and you swear you can see stars as they slid in. The older twin toys with you while eating you out, and you feel a knot forming at the base of your stomach, threatening to uncoil at any moment.

You couldn’t take it. Basilio’s cock slides out of your mouth and you look over your shoulder, moaning and panting.

Crispin pauses from eating you out to ask you a question. “You’re gonna cum? You wanna cum on my fingers like the filthy slut you are?”

“Yes, please, please, let me cum,” you begged, and with a devilish smirk, Crispin dives right back in to finish the job.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the pleasure inside you exploded, shameless moans coming from your throat as your first orgasm hits you. Basilio watches the look of pleasure on your face as Crispin makes you cum, making his cock twitch.

“Now that’s how you please a woman,” Crispin teases, shooting his brother a challenging look while wiping your juices off of his face.

“Wait until it’s my turn,” Basilio replies, smirking.

Panting, legs wobbling, you didn’t get to rest as Crispin takes his cock and slides it in you. In front of you, Basilio cups your face and directs you back to his cock, smirking. “You’re doing so well, baby. You’re taking us like a champ, you know that?”

“Fuck,” Crispin hisses from behind you. “You like this, you little slut? You like being fucked by two cocks at the same time?” he asks you, each word punctuated with a hard thrust.

Now you’re really caught in the middle.

Basilio’s panting heavily now, his thrusts becoming erratic against your mouth. You know he’s close, and you brace yourself for what’s coming. Eyes screwed shut, he lets out a low groan as he spills inside of your mouth, his cum painting your tongue white. You try to swallow it all, but a few stray drops dribble down your chin. The younger twin cleans you up, and kisses you deeply, not minding his taste on your mouth. He sits on the bed to catch his breath, and allows you to rest on his thighs.

Behind you, Crispin begins to rut faster, his thumb still in your ass as he pounded you. You writhe and cry against Basilio’s lap, bracing yourself from each harsh thrust. The younger twin pets your hair, but he moves his hand away when Crispin pushes your head against his brother’s lap.

“Take it all of it,” Crispin groans. “Ungh, you make me so horny, you little slut.”

Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Basilio gets an idea.

“Hey, kuya. Hold her up.”

Crispin blinks before obliging his brother’s request, clamping a hand around your throat. “Is this fine?” he asks you, and you nod a few times. He tightens his hold and pulls you to his toned chest, your hair sticking to his skin from your sweat. Basilio kisses you, then latches on one of your breasts. One gloved hand fondles and pulls at your nipples, while the other moves south to stroke you.

“Ah! I think I’m gonna cum again…” you choked, face red and tears forming at the edge of your eyes.

“Say our names,” Crispin whispers against your ear in a low growl.

You mutter their names at first, but it turns to full blown cries as your climax fast approaches.

“Crispin! Basilio!”

It hits you so hard, your eyes roll to the back of your head. You cried shamelessly, and Crispin places a kiss on your open mouth, tongue slipping in and teeth clashing with yours. He pulls out and finishes on your back, cock resting between the valley of your cheeks, still half-hard.

The Twins move to clean you up, looking around for tissues and anything to wipe you with.

“So,” Basilio says. “One more round?”

Your eyes widen, and you look down to see that Basilio is hard again.

“How- what the fuck? What are you two?”

Crispin sighs. “Hannah and Amie never told you? We’re demigods.”

“We don’t get sick and our injuries heal really fast. Talagbusao is our dad,” Basilio adds, and you give him a disbelieving glare.

“You didn’t need to let that last detail slip out, gago,” Crispin berates him as he pulls you close to his muscular chest. He lay down on a pillow, one arm propping his head up.

After a few seconds of silence, you say something. “At least let me have some water first.”

“Right.”

The Twins stare at each other.

“One of us has to fetch it,” Crispin says.

“What? Why me?” Basilio complains, scratching his head.

“Because I’m older, and I’ve worked hard to give her two orgasms in a row.”

“Hey! I’m sure that last one was thanks to me.”

You groan, grabbing a pillow to cover your face. “Ugh, please don’t turn this into a competition about who made me cum the most. Just get me my water, pretty please, Basilio?”

At the request, Basilio smiles and dresses haphazardly to get it for you. “Don’t start without me.”

You close your eyes with a smile. Crispin buries his face against your hair and plays with it. “You have him wrapped around your finger, you know?”

You chuckle at the remark, and Crispin kisses your temple. “Just don’t hurt my little brother.”

“I have no intention of hurting either of you,” you tell him.

Basilio comes back with a pitcher and some glasses, and once everyone’s hydrated and ready, the night continues.

The Twins spoil you with their attention, hands roaming your body as they planted kisses on your skin. Basilio sucks on your collarbone, biting experimentally and leaving marks that would darken in the morning, which draws a whine from your throat. Not wanting to be outdone, Crispin kisses your back, then the back of your neck, and he found a sweet spot that made you moan at that place where your ear connects to your neck. Basilio observes this and does the same to the other side.

“Hey, um, can I do it in your ass?” Crispin whispers in your ear, almost sheepishly, and you stare at him for a few seconds before nodding.

“Sure. Be gentle. And use a condom.”

“Of course. You go on top. What’s our safeword again?” he asks you, testing your knowledge.

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh. “Eternos.”

“Good girl,” Basilio says.

Flipping yourself around, you lean into Crispin’s lap. “Here, let me help,” you say as you grasp his cock and start to pump. The younger twin behind you reaches for the lube and prepares your ass. You sigh with pleasure as you feel the cold sensation of the product on your skin. Crispin sighs as you slide his length between your lips, head bobbing up and down, and you feel him grow inside your mouth. You give the tip a small lick before doing the same thing you did to Basilio, cupping his balls with your mouth and fondling them with your tongue.

“I want you now,” Crispin rasps, tugging your hair to get you off of him.

You smirk, turning around to give him a great view of your ass. He reaches around for a condom, finds one, and tears the foil open. After sliding the rubber down his shaft, he positions himself against your hole, pressing against the tight ring of muscle. You wince in pain as he starts penetrating you, prompting him to squeeze more lube to relieve your discomfort.

“Relax,” Basilio instructs you, planting soothing kisses at your jaw. You did as he said and unclenched your muscles, entrusting yourself to the two of them.

As Crispin pushes past the ring of muscle, you sigh in relief, discomfort replaced with the feeling of fullness. You lean back into his hard chest, a soft sigh leaving your lips as he starts to move. Meanwhile, Basilio kneels between your legs, rubbing your clit with the head of his dripping cock, but he freezes before he slides it in.

“What?” you ask with concern.

“We’re out of condoms.”

“Just pull out,” you tell him with a strained voice, gasping as Crispin moves inside you.

“No, you don’t understand. We’re demigods. Our… um.. Yeah, we’re really potent.”

You smirk at him. “I’ll ask the girls for something in the morning,” you say against your better judgment. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Cum all over me.”

His cock twitches at your last suggestion.

“Ugh, Basilio, you’re really killing the mood here,” Crispin strains to say, holding you gently by the neck. “I pulled out too, remember? Make up your mind already. I wouldn’t mind having her to myself for now, though.”

“Not a chance,” Basilio retorts, sliding the tip of his cock past your folds and pushing inside.

A loud cry rips from your throat at the sensations, feeling stuffed to the maximum as two cocks start to pump inside you. Crispin’s grip on your neck tightens, while you tangle your hands through Basilio’s hair, pulling him closer and kissing him.

Soon, The Twins find a steady rhythm, syncing their movement so you can feel the full force of their thrusts. Basilio throws one of your legs over his shoulder and begins to massage your clit with his thumb, while Crispin fondles your breasts with his free hand, using the tip of his fingers to roll, squeeze, and pull at your nubs. With every thrust they give, you clench, drawing a groan from both of them as they felt themselves being squeezed by your muscles.

“Oh God,” you whine. “Fuck, you both feel so good.”

“Say our names,” Basilio growls, and you oblige.

You chant their names like a prayer, underscored by the slapping of skin as the Twins fucked both of your holes. Hearing their names only spurred them on, and their movements became more desperate, sweat rolling off of your bodies.

“Basilio! Crispin!”

Underneath you, Crispin gropes at your breast harder, beads of sweat rolling off of his forehead and dripping to your skin. “Your ass feels too good, I’m gonna cum,” he hissed between clenched teeth, and you silently thank Bathala that he’s near his limit. The lube is starting to wash off.

With a few more rough thrusts, he cums, shooting inside the rubber. Crispin cups your jaw and kisses you, deep and sweet, tasting your tongue. You’re on the verge of climax now too, and you give Basilio a desperate look. He understood what you meant.

The younger twin thrusts harder and faster while still rubbing that sensitive nub between your legs furiously, and the older one helps by stimulating your nipples once again. The bombardment of sensation is too much, and you feel white hot heat racing through your body as you cum one last time, voice hoarse as a throaty moan escapes past your open mouth.

The spasm of your muscles is enough to send Basilio over the edge too, pulling out of you and spilling his load all over the mound of your pussy, and your stomach. You feel Crispin slip out of you too. Basilio leans in to kiss you, almost tenderly, but still full of desperation, tongue and teeth.

After a quick cleanup and another drink of water, the three of you lay in a heap of limbs, exhausted. Crispin doesn’t shift at all, content on letting you lie next to him, while Basilio moves next to you, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them on the narrow bed.

Everyone is sated, and with your eyes growing heavy, you wanted nothing but sleep.

“So, who’s better?”

You don’t know who said it, but you raised your hand to give him a middle finger. “Tangina niyo, you’re both good. End of discussion. Now please let me sleep.”

Thank Bathala that they did.

The next morning, all three of you wake up sweaty, stinking, and really, really hungry.

“Good morning to you two,” you sigh, snaking your arms around theirs. Each of them gave you a kiss on your temple. “Damn, I’m starving,” you said, sitting up. “Let’s take a shower and grab something to e-”

Underneath the three of you, the bed’s legs give out, and a loud thud can be heard throughout the house. As you three scramble for purchase, frantic footsteps are approaching, and the door bursts open.

“What was that? Crispin is missing from his room and-” Hank blurts, toting his good ol’ triple barrel shotgun "Ama, Anak, at, Espiritu Santo". Funnily enough, when he sees the tangle of limbs before him, he utters the same words and quickly turns away. Alexandra arrives shortly after, gives them a quick glance, and shuts the door.

Breakfast with their bossing is filled with a mortifying quiet.

You barely touch your food, embarrassment burning your cheeks, and you shoot a glance at your twin lovers.

“Next time, lock the door,” Alex finally says, getting up from the table with a coffee in her hands. She’s too fucking exhausted to deal with this.

“It’s Basilio’s fault!” Crispin yells after her. Basilio made no attempts to defend himself, knowing that he forgot to lock the door again after he came back with the water.

Grumbling, you finally take a bite of your breakfast, jacket draped over your shoulders despite the heat to hide the bruises on your body. “The girls are gonna have a field day when they see me like this.”

“I need to replace the bed,” Basilio mumbles, stuffing his mouth with rice.

The three of you looked at each other, and laughed.

“So, see you next week?” Crispin asks with a smile, and Basilio gives you a pleading, doe-eyed look.

“Yeah. See you two next week.”

Translations for non-English speakers:

tropa: ground of friends. People you chill with

tangina niyo: Filipino profanity. Roughly translates to "you sons of bitches"

Ama, Anak, at Espiritu Santo: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It’s Hank’s weapon’s actual name in the comics.

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105ttt · 3 years ago

Text

The Four Swords manga lends itself so well to a post-story slice of life/comedy series. Here are some ideas I thought of:

Blue has a crush on a cute boy he met recently, but he's nervous about it and can't find the right time or words to tell the boy about it. The other Links become his wingmen, and hilarity with a tinge of sincerity ensues.

Green realizes he's been ignoring his own negative emotions to support the others and feels guilty for wanting to ask for support. The other Links try to help him see that asking for help is alright regardless of his role as a leader.

Vio loves his teammates, yet he's never said "I love you" to them directly. When he tries to do so, the awkwardness and vulnerability prevent him from getting the words out. The other Links teach him that he's allowed to be affectionate and that affection is a good thing.

The Links are stuck on a deserted island with little food and water. They come up with ways to survive while they wait for a rescue team, but chaos naturally ensues because they are all stupid kids.

Green and Blue have an argument and avoid each other for a while. After both of them feel bad for the mean things they said and reflect on how to fix things, they seek each other out. When they literally run into each other, they blurt out their apologies at the same time, which makes them laugh. Their rivalry is safely intact.

Similar to the above idea, Blue and Vio become bitter towards each other after Blue dismisses Vio for his selfish attitude. Vio likewise dismisses Blue for his tendency to act without thinking at times. They begin an informal competition to see who can do tasks around the castle better and faster to prove who's best, but in the end, they realize they each have their own strengths that help the team. They reconcile afterward.

Green and Red want to become better cooks, so they partner up to learn recipes from Arcy and taste-test each other's creations. They make a mess of the kitchen, but it results in crafting the PERFECT grilled cheese sandwich.

Red is invited to a Fairy Fountain by Miss Fairy to learn more about fairies after expressing interest in the species. He comes home with 20 fairies sitting on his head and shoulders, and he doesn't want to make any of them go home. With all the new guests in the castle, some misadventures occur, and the fairies leave eventually - but not before Red tells them he's had a ton of fun.

The Links stay up late one night during a "sleepover" (they all live in the same place) and become reflective and honest with each other as tiredness sets in. They spend some time talking about how they feel about each other and themselves, touching on some sour and deep points.

The Links hold a friendly tournament to decide who is the strongest, once and for all! But in the end, they realize that the word "strongest" is define, and they each have unique ways of fighting that create a good synergy when they work together.

Shadow is worried he'll lose his composure in a battle and succumb to his demon nature, potentially hurting his loved ones without meaning to. When this happens in a one-off battle against a strong monster, Green and the others have to help him come down from his frenzy by reminding him of who he is and that they know he's capable of maintaining control of his powers.

Some of these ideas are OOC, but I feel they'd be good for drama that contributes to character bonding. I wish we'd get something like this from Himekawa.

#four swords #four swords manga #green link #red link #blue link #vio #shadow link #long post #I Need To Clarify The First Green Idea Is Very OOC #But I Promise It Can Work #I Just Can't Type Out Why In This Post #I'd Need To Add It In A Reblog

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nightingaelic · 4 years ago

Note

One I've always been infuriated by: you can't take a companion to Honest Hearts because the caravan is at capacity, but you can get Ricky kicked out. So New Vegas companions follow the Courier to Zion: what hilarity ensues?

Arcade Gannon: While Arcade is absolutely not a fan of Caesar's Legion, he's reserved enough not to shoot the Burned Man as soon as he appears, and he may even test the former Malpais Legate's philosophy and convictions in some sparring of wits once he feels comfortable enough [Speech 75]. Arcade thinks that Graham has replaced Caesar in his life with God, switching out a human tyrant for a nebulous deity: Graham argues that Arcade's desire for a wishfully-thought, balanced world springs out of an unsatisfied need for internal harmony, one he might find through spirituality. The courier can only stand an hour or so of this back-and forth before giving up and leaving Angel Cave to go find some geckos to hunt. Follows-Chalk amuses Arcade, and he encourages the young scout's desire to explore pre-war ruins: After all, there's always something to be learned by studying who and what came before you. Waking Cloud earns Arcade's utmost respect with her knowledge of medicine and of the canyon's natural order, but he would likely be disappointed with Daniel's and Graham's encroaching influence on the Sorrows' faith.

Craig Boone: Fight on sight with Joshua Graham, which leaves the Burned Man's bandages a little bloodier than normal but is ultimately broken up by the courier before any real harm is done. A shouting match ensues in the middle of the Dead Horses' camp, with Boone airing all of Graham's atrocities at maximum volume and the courier admitting skepticism of the man's change of heart, but still wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Boone wins and the Dead Horses must be convinced of Graham's crimes in the wider world [Speech 100], or the New Vegas visitors beat a hasty retreat from Zion [Speech 85/100]. Maybe the courier wins and Boone realizes that the Burned Man already lives a life wreathed in the pain he inflicted during his decades of Legion service and the eternal mark of Caesar's fury. Either way, Boone is on edge for the remainder of the time in Zion Canyon, and doesn't make too many friends. Follows-Chalk takes a shine to him though, and Boone admits that the scout makes for a decent spotter. I don't think Boone would form a strong connection with Zion until encountering the diaries of Randall Dean Clark, and realizing that the people the courier was trying to save were the chosen loved ones of a man not unlike himself.

Lily Bowen: Having Lily along on the trip to Zion might give some of the other caravan members a chance of surviving, as I don't think the White Legs are used to encountering super mutants and would probably falter anyway at a courier backed up by a giant nightkin grandmother swinging around a vertibird blade [Terrifying Presence]. The Burned Man's appearance in the canyon doesn't bother or even interest her, but she loudly laments the Dead Horses' practice of hunting bighorners rather than taming them. In contrast, Lily loves the Sorrows' treatment of Zion's wildlife, particularly their domestication of geckos. The tame geckos are terrified of her. Of all the inhabitants of Zion, Lily would best relate to Waking Cloud, finding common ground with the tribal midwife on topics like motherhood, the uprooting of a happy life and respect for nature. I think the courier would recognize this bond and even give Lily the chance to complete White Bird's rite of passage herself, defeating the Ghost of She with the courier and Waking Cloud's help. Lily would be most likely to leave Zion with more friends and family than when she entered it.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Apart from being somewhat of a living ghost himself, I don't think Raul would have much in common with Joshua Graham. While they're both trying to atone for mistakes they've made, their respective mistakes are in completely different time zones. Plus, I don't think Graham talks to ghouls much, thanks to his history with the Legion. Maybe Raul would share a tip with the Burned Man about .45 maintenance, maybe some helpful info about caring for damaged skin if he's feeling generous, but their relationship wouldn't go far beyond that. Like Boone, the story of the Father in the Cave strikes a chord with the old ghoul, and he might seek out Clark's final resting place with the courier to give the man a proper send-off and burial. Similarly, I think he would sympathize with Daniel and his attempts to help the Sorrows, and what bond he might have built with Graham would instead grow with the Mormon missionary. On the side, though, I think he might teach some Sorrows a few phrases in Spanish to heckle the man with, just for fun [Wild Wasteland].

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Convincing Cass to accompany the courier to Zion in the first place would probably be a feat in and of itself [Barter 62], and once the White Legs appear over the horizon and start assaulting the caravan, Cass might just admit out loud that she and any crew she travels with are cursed. From there, every new piece of the story would entertain her to no end. The most wanted man in Caesar's Legion is just hiding out in a canyon in Utah. The remnants of Vault 22's inhabitants are scattered all over the landscape, meaning Ricky would've eventually been caught in his lie if he'd actually made it to Zion. The Mormons are here, and they're arguably more enthusiastic about proselytizing the tribes than they are about helping them escape and defend themselves. I think Cass would be the most angry and vocal about that last part, and might even wind up arguing with Graham and Daniel about how the only part of their faith they should be spreading right now is the belief in making amends for their actions: Namely, leading the White Legs to Zion in the first place. She would probably be the only one of the companions to propose going to Salt-Upon-Wounds and discovering the tribe's motivations and the manipulations of Ulysses and Caesar, and maybe convincing the war chief that he is being used [Speech 100].

Veronica Santangelo: The Brotherhood Scribe finds a kindred spirit in Follows-Chalk, and the two quickly become fast friends. The young scout happily shares the history and practices of the Dead Horses with her, and in return, Veronica tells stories about the wonders of New Vegas that she has seen while traveling the Mojave with the courier. Joshua Graham creeps Veronica out though, but her own curiosity leads her to prod the courier into interrogating the Malpais Legate by proxy. Like Cass, Veronica would be annoyed with the Mormons' roles among the tribes, but unlike Cass, she lacks the knowledge and context needed to convince them to take some steps back. She is, however, good at tracking down evidence to back up her suspicions, and she and the courier might be able to find evidence of the Legion's influence on the White Legs by poking around their camps [Sneak 73]. Veronica is also in awe of Waking Cloud, particularly of her skill with the yao guai gauntlet. Once she's picked her jaw up off the floor, the Scribe asks the midwife to show her some techniques and help her affix some yao guai claws to her own power fist [Unstoppable Force].

ED-E: The little robot is a huge novelty in the Zion Canyon, and ED-E hams it up for every curious individual that approaches it in the Dead Horses camp and the Narrows. The courier can't help but smile with every quizzical beep, bounce and zoom around the members of the tribes, but they keep the robot closer in Zion to protect against White Legs storm drums and tomahawks. ED-E enjoys spotting trail markings for Follows-Chalk and tracking animals with Waking Cloud. The robot doesn't understand who Daniel is, but knows from reading his body language that he is sad. Not as sad as the man in Angel Cave, though.

Rex: As soon as Rex sets foot in the Zion Canyon, he hears danger on the wind and warns the courier. The caravan is therefore on edge before the inevitable attack, and less likely to perish in the ensuing battle. Like ED-E, Rex doesn't know who Joshua Graham is, but he knows he doesn't trust him: He smells like a wildfire, inside and out. Neither the Dead Horses nor the Sorrows keep dogs, and some members of the tribe are actively afraid of Rex, associating him with the mongrels that run ahead of White Legs raiding parties. The Sorrows are more forgiving, and Rex shows them their trust is well-placed by allowing them to pet him and inspect his mechanical parts when he lies before the campfires to rest at the courier's feet.

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writeyouin · 4 years ago

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Hank Anderson X Reader - One Night Stand - Commission

Hey, @petitelepus, thank you very much for commissioning me. I hope this is how you imagined it, and if there is anything you want changing, just message me and I will fix it til you find it perfect.

Commission request: Okay, how about Hank Anderson from Detroit Become Human with a notably younger woman. Like, he wakes up after a night filled with alcohol and finds Reader in his bed at morning. He thinks he took an android home with him because who young woman in their right sense of mind would go back to old man's like his place? Hilarity ensues when he tries to get rid of his one night mistake, but Reader shows genuine affection and attraction towards the older man. Maybe put Connor there somewhere too?

Warnings - None.

Rating - T

Word Count - 1306

Hank groaned and rolled over onto his side, reaching to pull the covers over his head, as if that might mask the headache he had from the previous night’s drinking. Yet, instead of finding the quilt, his calloused hand brushed over noticeably softer skin. Groggily, he opened his eyes, finding himself opposite your sleeping form, half-spooning him.

He stared long and hard at you, trying to recall the events of the previous night, or even the last time he had come home with a one-night stand. Occasionally in his youth, he would strike lucky, but that hadn’t happened in years. He was a grumpy, old bastard, who had little charm, especially when drunk, so how had it come to pass that you were now in his bed? You were pretty enough to be an android; shit, had he paid for your services? It would make sense, after all, nobody young and good-looking would want to spend the night with an old fart like him. Then again, androids didn’t sleep, and Hank couldn’t see an LED, but it was possible that you were mimicking sleep as some androids did, and that you had removed your LED if that was the case.

Gingerly, Hank lifted your arm, removing it from his chest, so he could sneak out of bed. He looked down, finding a state of undress that only irked him further. Upon pulling on boxers and a shirt, he made his way to the kitchen, trying to keep every movement silent as he made a pot of coffee and tried to come up with a game-plan. He could just wake you and tell you to leave, no matter how harsh it was, but that could lead to you actually trying to talk to him, and he didn’t want that; he didn’t want anything to do with you. Maybe it would be better for him to leave the house and hope that you would take the hint to go back to wherever it was you came from, but then what if you stayed anyway? Hank tried to think of any other options that might help him, but if he couldn’t leave and didn’t want to stay, what else was there? He sat down at the breakfast table to think.

“Morning,” Connor beamed, coming back home from his morning walk with Sumo.

“Fuck,” Hank groaned, having hoped Connor wouldn’t have been home till much later so he could get rid of you without Connor finding out; the android knew a lot more about sarcasm now, and would undoubtedly mock Hank until his dying days if he found out about you.

“Someone’s grumpy,” Connor grinned, removing Sumo’s leash and letting the Saint Bernard roam free.

“Connor, do me a favour and get the hell out. I have something to take care of.”

“I would have thought you’d be happy, considering you got lucky last night.”

“Shit, you fuckin’ knew?”

“About (Y/N), yes. I met her last night when you were sleeping. She went to the bathroom and saw me in the hallway. We then had a nice chat before she went back to bed with you. She’s a real catch.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Hank retorted half-heartedly, hating the shit-eating grin Connor now wore.

Connor was about to make a rebuttal, but the sound of the bedroom door creaking open drew both men’s attention.

“Morning,” You said chipperly, coming out in one of Hank’s old shirts and the jeans that you had arrived in. “Connor, Hank.”

Hank grumbled, feeling bad that he didn’t remember the previous night, when you clearly seemed happy about whatever had gone on; he was still trying to deduce whether he had paid for your time or not, but now that you were awake, it seemed rude to ask. Despite that, Hank was about to ask if you needed a ride home as a way to get rid of you, when you kissed his cheek and sat down next to him at the kitchen table. He froze, memories of his ex-wife surfacing; she used to do that in the early days before things turned sour.

“Would you like some breakfast, (Y/N)?” Connor asked, trying to keep you there as long as possible for his own enjoyment.

“NO!” Hank growled, forgetting himself momentarily. “Uh, I mean- Connor is a lousy cook. Burns everything he touches.”

“Oh,” You noted, “That’s too bad. Then I suppose it’s up to me to make breakfast. You like pancakes?”

“N-”

“He sure does,” Connor interrupted, moving over to the cupboards. “Here, I’ll get the ingredients for you.”

As Connor worked, pulling out various utensils, he began asking you questions about you, trying to get Hank to like you just for the fun of it.

“So, (Y/N), how did you and Hank meet?”

“Oh it was really sweet. We were at a bar last night and some guy pinched my ass, and I was about to yell at him, but then Hank came over to defend my honour. It was so romantic. After that, we spent the night talking and well, here we are now, right sweetie?”

“…Right,” Hank answered non-committedly, trying to jog his own memory. Did he really do that? Why couldn’t he have minded his own business?

“Really?” Connor said enthusiastically. “That’s just like Hank. Did you know he’s works at the DPD? He’s always there to protect the citizens of Detroit and-”

“Connor, bedroom, now,” Hank glowered at Connor, who only smiled at you and excused himself, closely followed by Hank.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Hank hissed, once the door was closed and they were out of earshot.

“I was only-”

“Argh, I don’t care. Either help me get rid of her, or get the fuck outta here. You hear me?”

Rolling his eyes and sighing dramatically, Connor left the room, making his excuses to you before the house to go on yet another walk with Sumo.

“Bye Con,” You waved casually. “See you later. Well, I guess it’s just the two of us.”

Hank rubbed his beard awkwardly, dragging his hand down his face “Yeah about us…Listen, I’ve gotta be honest here. I don’t really remember anything about last night.”

Your face fell, “Oh…”

“And you seem like a nice girl, but uh- You’ve got a lot of life to live and you don’t want to go wasting it on a grumpy old fart like me, with a rough job and a heavy drinking problem.”

“Have you picked up women before?”

“What?” Hank asked, your question throwing him.

“Like, do you do this all the time?”

“No. Honestly, I haven’t done anything like this in a long time.”

“Then it’s fate,” You exclaimed happily.

“What?”

“You said it yourself. You don’t normally do this. So, whatever happens Hank Anderson, I am going to recreate the spark we had last night, until you learn that I’m the one for you. Besides, you’re a charming, handsome silver fox. Why would I ever give that up?”

You wrapped your hands around Hank’s waist and pecked his cheek again, while he stood dumbfounded.

Hank watched you with a frown as you went back to mixing the pancake batter, all the while wondering just what the hell he had said the previous night that had earned your affection.

At noon that day, Connor came back somewhat glumly, prepared for the fact that you would be gone and that Hank was willing to give up on finding love again. He had genuinely liked you, after finding that you truly did have feelings for Hank. However, when he got back in, he found you at the table with Hank in an avid conversation about old music.

Hank took in Connor’s flummoxed expression, and answered it with an equally perplexing statement, “(Y/N)’s staying for dinner.”

“No kidding,” Connor chuckled. “Welcome to the Anderson’s, (Y/N).”

#hank anderson #Connor #hank anderson x reader #commission #detroit become human #detroit #Detroit: BH #DBH #sumo #reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic

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obsessive-ego · 4 years ago

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Beetlejuice x reader (ambiguous pronouns)

Prompt: Beetlejuice starts digging around your things in the dead of night. Not having the most structured sleep schedule, you hear him, and in the state of sleep deprivation forget that Beetlejuice was staying over, this mistaking him for an intruder. Hilarity ensues.

It was late, nearing one am. You only noticed this because you realised you had been sat in the dark, which you swore it had just been light, on another video binge that ended up rabbit holeing through videos of countless interesting topics. You sighed at yourself and your lack of awareness when it came to the passage of time. You've done this exact thing many times before. You took off your headphones and set your sights on actually trying to sleep. With the lack of a bulky headset blocking your ears, however, sounds of rustling and movement echoed from outside your room. You stiffened, listening to it. Someone was definitely in your house, there was no mistaking it. Carefully, slowly, you slipped out of bed to grab the bat out from under your bed. An impulse buy, you only bought it because it had "Li'l Bitch" carved into the top and the mental image of "accidentally" imprinting that on someone with a whack made you laugh. While remembering this made you grin, it faded at you hearing a soft thud. Were they upstairs or downstairs? It was hard to tell with the closed door. How long had the intruder even been in the house? Focusing on the problem at hand, you crept to the door and slowly opened it, peeking around it. You cringed when it let out a creak, straining to hear if there was more movement.

Thankfully, whoever was present was not sneaking around upstairs, meaning your awareness of their presence was undetected. You could hear their movements clearer now, and they were clearly downstairs. You were so grateful to yourself for having the common sense to keep your more important things in your room. Creeping over to the stairs, you kept your eyes peeled for any movement in the halls. Throat dry in fear, knuckles white from the death grip you had on your bat, you descended. You made sure that the stairs wouldn't creak by tiptoeing along the sides, slowly putting pressure in each step before commiting. You did not want to alert the potential threat to your presence. They could be armed. They could have intent to kill. Sneaking up on them and knocking them out was the best bet, the cops can be called once they were subdued.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you worked out that the culprit was in the living room. You listened close, for any hint as to where exactly, before slowly inching closer for a glance. They were faced away for you, searching. It was dark, no lights on, so they wouldn't see a shadow if you snuck up. All you had to do was be quiet and get a hefty hit.

Taking in a deep breath, you advanced, bat at the ready. Your heart hammered loudly in your chest. Blood rushed in your ear as you got closer, eyes scanning over the vague silhouette for any clue that they'd turn. You froze as they straightened up.

"Nothing… Bet they keep all the juicy stuff hidden…"

So they were looking for things to steal! Taking another step closer, you got ready to swing. A creak of the floor betrayed you.

"Huh?"

Instincts kicking in, you swung the bat at their head as they turned. You put way too much force in it, in your panic. With a pained yell, the head went flying across the room, leaving a headless body standing in front of you. You stumbled back in shock, a scream getting caught in your throat. The body felt in the air for its lack of a head, to check it was really gone, before feeling around. In it's fumbling it turned on a lamp, and you instantly recognized who the body belonged to- Beetlejuice. That's right, he was staying over. He must have gotten bored while you "slept"...

"Yowzer! That hurt, doll, when'd you get so strong!?"

The demon cried out from somewhere across the room.

"Over here, dummy, come on!"

He made a series of whistling sounds in the hopes of getting his body to find him. It was fairly useless without the head so it had difficulty following the source of the sound. You watched Beetlejuice's body struggle to locate him as you clutched your chest, recovering from the scare. The anticipation leading up to the shocking conclusion really made the whole ordeal all the more frightening, and your sleep deprived state did nothing to help cool the adrenaline rush. It took a moment for you to realise Beetlejuice was calling your name.

"Will you help me out, already? I'm sorry for looking through your things, I won't do it again, maybe, just pick me up! It's dirty in here!"

You went over to the source of the complaints, a little amused at how you managed to hit his head directly into the fireplace that you never used. Who actually owns working fireplaces anymore, anyway? Dropping the bat, you reached in to pull the soot covered head of Beetlejuice out from there. He coughed his thanks, covering your shirt in more soot.

"Just slap me back on my neck, will you? You have no idea how annoying it is not having limbs."

You pondered the demand. He was looking through your things, and you'd quite like to know why, actually. Not to mention, a swift hit to the head was most likely not enough to teach the demon a lesson in privacy.

You gripped Beetlejuice's head by the hair, irritated by how that made him let out a purr, and shook him to get the dust and dirt off of him. He made an amusing, warbling yell, obviously not too fond of the gesture. His eyes rolled around in dizziness when you stopped. Beetlejuice groaned as you dumped his head onto the couch, tugging his body away from him by it's tie.

"Hey, hey hey, what are you doing?"

"I want to know exactly why you were looking through my things. You're not getting your body back until you tell me, and you better be honest."

Beetlejuice frowned, watching you as you turned the light on. You picked the bat back up, letting go of his body to turn back to Beetlejuice. You'll use your trust weapon to keep his body away from his head, if it tries anything.

"You won't last, you're supposed to be sleeping."

"You're right! That's why if you take too long, I'm going to go upstairs with your body and use it as a nice weighted blanket while you're stuck down here."

"WHAT?! Without me?"

You had to snicker at his dejected whine.

"Yes, that's what I said. Me and Dummy here are going to snuggle while you have to wait for the sun to rise, and probably longer seeing as I'm so tired. I'll definitely wake up late."

You couldn't help but speak in a taunting manner. It wasn't often you had the advantage over the demon, so it was a bit of a power trip when you did.

"You really know how to break down my walls, huh?"

You pushed the body away from you as it moved to grab at your head, as if it wanted to steal it for itself.

"Yep. Tick tock, you wouldn't want to have to wait for so long, right? So unable to do anything but stare at the unchanging surroundings…"

"Ok, ok, fine! I was looking for things you like, I… Well, it was supposed to be a surprise but… I wanted to get you a gift…"

You blinked at him in surprise. A gift? This had to be a joke, or some lie told to hide some other devious intent.

"... I said be honest."

"I am! I heard about the festival, holiday thingy that you breathers have, think it's called, uh, Valentide's Day, and I thought, well, you're my favourite breather, so… I'd get you a gift like people do."

You could feel your cheeks gaining colour as he spoke.

"It's Valentine's day… And typically, that's reserved for romantic gestures…"

"Romantic? Hmm…"

He looked down, pondering.

"Weeell, if you want me to put some petals on your bed too~"

You groaned, poking the body away from you with a bat as it tried to swipe your head again.

"Can I please have my body back, now? I did what you asked, even if it meant spoiling the surprise!"

Beetlejuice pouted at you, giving big pleading eyes in the hopes of you agreeing. You sighed, giving in. He had done as you asked, and you were too tired to milk the otherwise perfect opportunity to mess with him further. You dropped your bat, moving to pick him up.

His body had other plans, however. Hearing you unarm yourself, he lunged forward to snatch you up. You yelled in surprise, struggling in his grip.

"No, no, out 'em down you Dummy!"

Beetlejuice berated it to no avail. You squirmed in the hold, but it was just as strong as Beetlejuice always was. You were stuck.

"Help me out, Beets, there has to be something I can do to make him let go!"

From the face Beetlejuice made, it confirmed that there was. However, he seemed very hesitant to tell.

"I dunno, you might use it against me…"

That was true. Not even a might, having something to one up him would be lovely, and definitely put to good use. You weren't above lying, though.

"Of course not, Beetlejuice! Say, hey, if you tell me, I can still do the cuddling up plan- but with yoooou involved. Head and all!"

Jackpot, his face lit up at the suggestion.

"Really? You'd let me in your bed?"

"Yes! But I need to get out to reunite you to your body first."

Beetlejuice made a hesitant noise, waying up the options. In the end, the enticing over of getting to cuddle up with you was too good to pass up.

"Fine! But do not use it against me, I'll get you back for it if you do! Just… scratch at his ribs, not too hard, and he'll let go."

You nodded, shuffling in the body's hold to reach for them. You dig your nails in, raking them across it's ribs. The body shuddered before it let you out of its vice grip. You stumbled back, watching as it hugged his chest.

"Hold on, are you ticklish?"

"Are you?"

You squinted at Beetlejuice, who mimicked the action. With a tired sigh, you picked his head up and slapped it down onto his neck. He let out a pleased sigh, grabbing his head to turn it 360°, making sure it was firmly in place. You grinned when you noticed "Li'l Bitch" was imprinted on his cheek, and he squinted at you.

"Seriously, though, are you?"

Upon him clawing his hand at you, you kicked your bat up, grabbing it from the air smoothly. He got the message, holding his hands up in surrender. The fact you did that successfully was impressive enough to warrant a minor truce.

You turned away, heading towards the stairs.

"Try anything and I'll banish you. Also turn the lights off before you follow."

"You got it, boss!"

Crawling into bed after the whole ordeal could not have been more satisfying. The exhaustion hit you like a truck. Beetlejuice was quick to follow, diving under the covers before popping his head out, having gotten comfortable on top of you. You realised that he was likely not going to sleep, and he'd instead watch you. You were too sleepy to care, however, already dozing off. For a moment you wondered if he found anything to clue in on what gift to give to you… You decide you'd definitely look into finding in a gift, too, tomorrow.

...

I am hollering

This is beautiful

I cant Express that enough

My Only issue is that the tumblr app doesnt notify me when I get a submission lol

But like wow

I love the head and body bit so much, headless beej being a grabbing bastard 😩👌

Thank you SO much for sharing this

#my art blog is 3dimensionalcircles btw!#hehe free promo #beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #this isn't the most polished so sorry if you catch a typo or something pfpf #submission #just gonna add one more tag #musical beetlejuice x reader

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brooklynboysficrecs · 4 years ago

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Ria’s Top 10 Shrinkyclinks Fics

I will admit this isn’t my preferred AU -- I won’t immediately jump on a fic just because it’s pre-serum Steve and WS Bucky. I gotta like the plot, or the premise, or be really, really intrigued by the tags, but to be fair, that’s how I am with everything that isn’t Modern Bucky and Cap Steve, so. That being said, I have read some truly fantastic shrinkyclinks stories, and I do very much love Steven “Fight Me” Rogers at his scrappiest. And these fics also tend to feature protective!Bucky which is another personal favorite of mine. Oh, but also: shrinkyclinks generally refers to pre-serum Steve with actual Winter Soldier Bucky, but a lot of people use the tag just to imply body types, and when they say WS Bucky they mean he’s all huge and muscled and sometimes has a metal arm, though that isn’t required. That’s the definition I’m going with as well, so hopefully nothing’s confusing!

1. If Wishing Made It So by leveragehunters. Before I get into anything about the actual fic, let me say this: leveragehunters is probably my favorite stucky writer. Like, hands-down, I read almost everything they write, and they’re big into fantasy stories, which is a great bonus for me personally. So, so, so many good shrinkyclinks fics by them (Even Underneath the Waves, a mermaid AU that features equal amounts of pre- and post-serum Steve, and A-mage-ing Grace with mage Steve are two of my other favorites, and they would’ve been on the list, but I try not to put more than one story per author, ya know? And IWMIS kinda wins out above the others for me, so). This story features jinn!Bucky who finds himself in the baffled hands of Steve Rogers, who is perfectly prickly and stubborn and good. Bucky’s got a terrible past with humans in general (and Hydra in particular, what a shocker) that he and Steve have to overcome as their relationship progresses, but that progression is frankly beautiful to watch unfold. I come back to this story time and time again because of how much I love these versions of Steve and Bucky getting to know one another, learning to trust each other, supporting each other through the worst the world has to throw at them. Plus, there’s a few more stories in this series if you get as hooked as I am, which is always great!!

2. Roots Have Grown by AustinB. I remember reading this and just... completely feeling what Bucky is going through. Not everything -- he’s an agoraphobic veteran, and I can’t relate to either of those, really, but he’s so... awkward about his crush on Steve. And that’s -- that’s relatable to me. But it’s precious, really, how he tries to help Steve even though he’s afraid to actually meet him initially; he becomes Steve’s sort of... anonymous benefactor? Guardian angel with money? Like, it’s definitely a sugar daddy type deal originally but I doubt Bucky would describe it like that. I don’t know, it’s cute, though, and I loved seeing Bucky opening up to Steve as they became closer.

3. Through The Woods by VenusMonstrosa, alby_mangroves. Okay, hear me out: werewolves. I fucking love werewolves in fiction; I mean, not really the romance novels you’ll see in the grocery store, but. Werewolf mythology is one of my favorite things, so seeing it in fanfiction almost always manages to lure me in. And I was so not disappointed with this story! Steve’s living alone in a cabin in the woods, which of course sounds like the opening to a horror movie, but here it leads to love. Werewolf Bucky is both charming and terrifying, to a degree, he’s a wolf, but he and Steve are fantastic together. This is another story that goes in on the trust aspect of their relationship and I for one am a big fan of that. There’s some violence, minor character death and the like, but it’s definitely not undeserved so. If you can handle that (and the sex, because there is sex in this) then I highly recommend this one!

4. The Joy of Little Things by obsessivereader, Sealcat. And so we move from werewolves to dragons. Yup. Dragons. Another of my beloved mythical creatures that I obsessed over when I was kid. Bucky’s capable of shifting into a human in this, but primarily he’s a big ol’ dragon that surprisingly doesn’t want to eat the scrawny sacrifice from the local village. Steve ends up working for Bucky, instead, and from there hilarity ensues. Steve’s obviously wary of Bucky, but Bucky isn’t at all what he’d been expecting, and they grow closer the longer Steve’s staying in Bucky’s caves. There are a couple of stories with Dragon!Bucky, but this is my personal favorite; it’s cute and heart-warming and, well. I just really like it.

5. I Just Want to Love You in My Own Language by agetwellcard, inediblesushi. So this one has Cap!Bucky (Bucky!Cap?) but again, sometimes it’s more about how Bucky looks rather than his role as the Winter Soldier. Anyway, I remember my biggest take away from this story was how adorable Bucky was in his quest to win the affections of sassy Nurse Steve, who patches him up after missions and is probably playing hard to get. Bucky uses terrible pick-up lines, absolutely awful, and he is completely unashamed of that fact. Which is, as I said, adorable. Steve, initially, does not agree with my assessment, but he gets there eventually. After some requisite drama, of course.

6. Tint & Shade by forestofbabel. Oh, god, this one hurt me, I remember that pretty clearly. Bucky is the Winter Soldier in this, and Steve is a 21st century art therapist who just so happens to resemble his late grandfather, Captain Joseph Rogers, who fought in -- you guessed it -- WWII. Like I said in the intro, if I really like the premise of something I’ll usually read it regardless of the configuration of pre-/post-serum Steve and pre-serum/WS Bucky, and this was definitely one of the fics I got into for that reason. Having actual WS Bucky interact with a modern pre-serum Steve is always interesting, given how much they don’t have in common, generally (there isn’t even really the veteran status that modern Bucky sometimes has in fics), and it’s a journey to see how and why they connect. Having Steve resemble his WWII era grandfather caught my attention, and the fic itself made me grateful that I decided to go for it in the first place. This is another one where is trust is key to their relationship, considering the mental/emotional state Bucky is in at the beginning. Very good story overall!

7. Fourth Floor by dirtybinary, mithborien, picoalloe. So dirtybinary has written some amazing stucky fics, which is why I was so excited when I saw this being posted initially (a few years ago, but still). There’s magic! Mystery! Suspense! Some NatSharon! Looking this over, I’m wondering if I should’ve saved it for the Urban Fantasy list I wanna do (and If Wishing Made It So, if I’m being honest) but I do like it for the shrinkyclinks list. The writing is great, the characterization of Steve and Bucky is great, and like, they live in what is essentially a magical apartment complex, so what’s better than that?

8. my heart tells me you are lonely, too by FanGirling. Alright, so I read this one as it was being published, and the slow burn about killed me. You know, in a good way, though. Bucky lives in Steve and his mother’s apartment building, trying to figure out where to go with his life now that he’s broken free of Hydra and gotten his autonomy back. He’s obviously wary, skittish, but he takes a liking to Sarah Rogers when she reaches out to befriend him, surprised anyone wants to be near him let alone take the time to get to know him. Steve... is not so easily sold on Bucky. And I’m not gonna spoil anything here, but the shit these two go through is intense, and I cried a lot during this fic, sometimes out of frustration because they’re both ridiculous about their feelings (of course Bucky’s fears are valid, the man has been through literal hell, but also I was internally screaming a little as Bucky continually talked himself out of getting closer to Steve.) I wanted to wrap the both of them in about thirty blankets for pretty much the entire length of the fic. God. They’re just -- they’re so incredibly sweet in this one, once they work past their issues (Bucky and Steve are both more than a little messed up from their respective circumstances, but they make it work). Mind the tags on this one, also, especially because there is a chapter that deals with attempted sexual assault against Steve (obviously not with Bucky!), but Bucky handles the situation before anything truly nasty happens, that I can promise.

9. Local Raccoon Befriends Angry Chihuahua by charlesdk. This is yet another author I really love; they have a fantastic farmer!Steve/Modern!WS!Bucky story that I love to bits, as well as other great fics. But anyway, this one. The title sold me the second I saw it, honestly, I can’t even pretend that wasn’t the deciding factor in me reading this. I don’t think I can really do any better than the summary in explaining why I recommend it; feisty tiny Steve and lovestruck grumpy Bucky are a winning combination in my book. This one does feature the boys dealing with homophobia and ableism, though I can’t recall how severe it is. So I’d just mind the tags, and if you’re alright with them, thoroughly enjoy this story.

10. The Road to Hell is Paved with Tony’s Good Intentions by pinlilli. Bucky as a mail-order Russian bride. That’s the detail that pretty much demanded I click on this fic, and oh my god, it was even better than I ever could’ve expected. Tony, in a bid to help Steve get over his awful ex-boyfriend (fuck Brock Rumlow in every universe, honestly), literally orders him a husband -- in the form of beefy James Barnes, who is a fucking gem and I will not hear one bad word against him. He does chores, it’s lovely and adorable, and you will definitely fall just as hard as Steve does. There’s some canon-typical violence in this one that relates to James’ past, but nothing super graphic as far as I remember. Again, Rumlow is a dick and should be treated as such, but he’s hardly the most important part of this fic and I urge everyone to take a look at it if they’re as intrigued by Bucky being a mail-order husband as I was.

#stucky #stevebucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #winter soldier #chris evans #sebastian stan #fic rec #shrinkyclinks #top 10

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ivory-sunflower · 4 years ago

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Arty Art Things ✨

Hellooo!

I've decided to post some of the arty things I've done either recently or in the last few years, well the pieces I'm somewhat proud of at least. All my posts tend to be a lot more wordy than they need to be but hey it's what I do here!

Conchúr White

Anyone one who's been on this blog for a bit will have probably have seen me talk about this lovely Irish fella. The pencil drawing is actually a year old as of yesterday, I only know that because screenshots of me flipping out about Conchúr following me on twitter popped up in my memories yesterday. I think I'd sent it to him at about 3 in the morning (I was not in a good head space at that point in time), so probably not what he was expecting to see when he opened his phone in the morning aha

The biro version is much more recent: I got bored while sat at my desk and doing research about university courses, saw a biro, saw my old drawing of Conchúr, had an idea. I revisited my GCSE art techniques and here we are. Again, I put this up on Twitter and now (at the the time I'm writing this) when you google "Conchúr White" it's the third top image of him which is a bit mad really. I think I spent all of about 20 minutes on Conchúr but another 45 minutes on the words behind him. The words are the names of the songs on his EP 'Bikini Crops', he doesn't just really love the idea of Channing Tatum driving him around at night in a daisy print bikini... Well maybe he does but what he does in his spare time is none of my business...

TechDif

So I mentioned that the pencil drawing of Conchúr came from a rough patch in my mental health and this one is no different! In fact this one came from an even worse circumstance so we love to see it. I had a bad, bad time in July and this started as a way of distracting myself from what was going on in my head. Without it, I can't honestly say I'd still be here so even if the final product of this had been a terrible mess I would still love it for keeping me alive. However, it did not turn out to be a terrible mess!

Now that the origin of this is out the way, where do I start with TechDif? Unlike Conchúr, I haven't really talked about them on here (unless you count one brief post about Citation Needed) before so I guess I'll do it here. The Technical Difficulties are a wonderful group of 4 British fellas who have had their fair share of fun online and even before. They did a radio show at university together, which went on to become their Reverse Trivia Podcast, later moving on to a panel show called 'Citation Needed': and a game called 'Two of These People Are Lying'. All of which I would thoroughly reccomend, they're one of my go to things when I'm having a rough time. All 4 of them are excellent! Tom Scott (red top, blue jeans on the picture) has his own YouTube channel which does content aside from TechDif. If you're quite nerdy and like science, linguistics, computers, or any number of other things you may enjoy Tom's channel. He is probably best described as "The Moderator" of the group, much like a tired teacher he tries desperately to keep everyone on track with what they're meant to be doing, but usually it does not end well for him. Then we have Matt Gray (space top, holding an ice cream) who also has a channel away from TechDif stuff, he does techy electronic things and has a series called 'Will it Soft Serve?' where he puts all kinds of strange things through a soft serve machine. Matt brings a very specific energy to TechDif and I can't fully describe what that vibe is but I love it. Matt and Tom also share a YouTube channel where TOTPAL is posted and they had a series called 'The Park Bench'. Moving on to everybody's favourite Gary Brannan: Gary Brannan (SATIRE hoodie, glasses) and can I just say, what a fella he is! He's just excellent! He is the one that will argue and rip into Tom the most (not in a malicious way) and hilarity ensues. There are some episodes where he is absolutely on it, getting all the points and others where he very clearly has no idea and that's where some of his funniest quotes come from. Given how badly I was doing at the time I made this, his response to it on Twitter was so so lovely. I specifically remember one tweet where he said I'd made him happy and although it was probably a flippant comment, it just made feel alright for a bit. Yeah I might be feeling awful right now, but I've made someone else happy so that's a nice feeling. Then last but certainly not least, we have Chris Joel (buffalo check shirt, beard)! I would be lying if I said he isn’t my favourite... His sense of humor is the one I vibe with most, he can get rather dramatic in parts and can chat bollocks like a champion. He has absolutely no online presence away from TechDif and, like Rens from Temples, I fully believe he’s a cryptid and lives off in a tree somewhere.

The picture took me about 4 days to complete, well 4 nights because I did most of it between the hours of 12 a.m. and 7a.m. - I remember watching the sun come through my window each morning. It’s made up of lots of little pieces, all cut out and stuck on; even the sky and hills are made of separate pieces of paper. Nothing was actually drawn on the piece of paper it’s all stuck on, it’s not how I usually do things but if I messed up one little but I could just redraw it rather than ruining the whole thing. The most tedious parts to make were Chris’ shirt because I had to draw each square individually and then join the as well, and cutting out the ban-hammer in the bottom right was surprisingly hard. Every single detail of the picture is a reference to the podcast/shows, I still have the plan sketch and reference list knocking about somewhere. I listened to a lot of true crime videos while making it to the point that certain parts remind me of different cases: the brandy now reminds me of Peter Tobin, and the big spiral thing reminds me of Tim McLean (very harrowing case) - sorry that fact is a bit morbid but interesting nonetheless.

I did post this for a little bit back in July, but I received some rather awful messages so I took it down. Generally, Tom Scott/TechDif fans are lovely but there’s been a few that have taken a disliking to me for some reason so I’m hoping they don’t resurface again. I’m in a better head space now though, so even if they do I’m more equipped to deal with it this time.

Hozier

This was a quick sketch I did in April, I was getting bored with lockdown and decided to summon the bog man himself. There’s not really much more backstory than that, no poor mental health story, no fun twitter story - he’s just here. He’s vibing. I will say I’m particularly proud of his nose, I just think it’s one of the best noses I’ve ever drawn. His hand is okay, but I think that the hands on my Conchúr drawings are better. So there is the Hozi-Boi...

The Corpse Bry

I’ve talked about Bry on here before as well, I love him, he’s excellent, top lad. He is a living Tim Burton character, he’s 6′6, very skinny, and his legs are longer than my will to live. I was watching ‘The Corpse Bride’ a few weeks ago and suddenly had an idea and so ‘The Corpse Bry’ came to be. I gave him a little panda friend because the panda has always been his animal - he used to wear a panda beanie all the time and his album had a panda on the cover. Again, there’s not really a fun story behind this one, I guess it’s somewhat fun because it’s the first art I made after finishing my psychology exams in October so it was nice to actually have the time to draw.

James Bagshaw

Ginger talking about Temples for the third post in a row? it’s more likely than you think! I did this one last week, I’d had a bit of a wobbly day and had group therapy on Teams in the evening and I just couldn’t concentrate on what was going on and I ended up doodling Mr James E. Bagshaw, the glitter crying fraggle man himself. It’s a bare-bones drawing that I could definitely work into more but I’m happy with it as it is to be honest. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit and add the individual bits of fringe to his jacket, just thinking about doing that makes me tired. Maybe I’ll get around to drawing the whole band at some point...

Alice in “Wonderland”

This one is from about 5(?) years ago, it’s not my typical style and was a “study” based on another artists work (basically i just had to copy this fellas work). I’ll be honest, this one has a sketchy backstory that I won’t go in to because it’s not exactly a nice one, and because of that I also won’t say who the artist is that it’s based on. Despite this, I’m still really proud of this one and I’m so sad that I never got this piece back after I got taken out the class. I’ve considered trying this style again, I’ve even joked about doing another Conchúr drawing in this style as a nod to my progression through GCSE art, eventually leading to Conchúr drawn in ink on music manuscript and stained with neon paint and dyes - it would be quite the project!

So this has been quite a lengthy post so apologies about that but life goes on. Similar to the vinyl post, I’ll probably add to this as and when I make more art. Even if no one is reading these posts, I’m enjoying making them so that’s the main thing. It’s just nice to document things and the feelings that go with them. 💕

~ Love Ginger xx

29/11/2020

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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

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All in the Family

Chapter 147: Felix Felicis

The door would not open this time. Frank was the first to check, as he'd landed face first against it. He turned with a weary sigh, but was pleased to see whatever the three had been arguing about seemed to have mellowed out remarkably fast. Potter still looked peeved, but he went back over to Sirius and Remus quickly and the three were instantly smiling for the others' company again. He'd been of no bother in Mrs. Cole's office, just leaning against the door and watching rather than interacting with a distasteful look on none of them. It wasn't until Potter snickered and gestured up in here that Frank did too and took in the rest of the place.

They were in an unused classroom, chairs on tables and the desk plain, but there were birds circling above them all, at least a dozen.

"If one of them shits on me, I'll hex the lot," he promised. "If I never see another bird again when we get out of this it'll be too soon."

"That's a shame," Lily told him as she watched with wonderment.

Frank let go of his annoyance at once, it wasn't hard for how clearly delighted she felt, and none of them had defecated yet. "Would you like me to teach you the spell to conjure them? Little advanced Transfiguration practice never hurts."

Lily beamed and agreed at once, eagerly following Frank's movement.

Sirius got his opportunity fast enough when Prongs explained why Regulus was slightly red in the face and slowest to get to his feet. He wasn't really intoxicated, Sirius could tell that much, especially as their most recent turn around seemed to have worn off the majority of the alcohol. He was just buzzed and more giggly than usual while Peter bit his lip and watched.

"Not just going to stand for that are you Moony?" He waved his hand in the two's vicinity. "Prefect and all, surely you should go keep an eye on the situation!"

Remus rolled his eyes but guessed Sirius was still encouraging him to talk to Peter more than anything, going over regardless and engaging over the book as the three of them broke off every couple of sentences to launch more ideas about what all these memories could mean.

"You can't tell me it didn't bother you, the spell he used," Sirius said quietly, watching Prongs carefully. It wasn't a dark spell, the severing charm was used to cut through anything thicker than wood, but that was his point. If Peter had used the same spell on Moony instead of what Prongs did, Remus would have been hurt even worse, it might not have been so easily fixed in time...

James didn't answer right away, and Sirius nodded in some relief James had been downplaying how much it did bother him then. Prongs still spoke in a neutral voice though, "it's still the principle of the matter Sirius, I'm not angry."

"Nor am I," he was quick to promise, finally getting James to look at him in relief. "I'm just saying, I'm done pretending he doesn't bother me. I won't stop him from joining the Order, but I won't volunteer to go on missions with him. I won't avoid him, but I'm not going to keep trying to force anything either." It was not lost on him he still hadn't been able to help either of them in the moment, he didn't know what anyone else would have done, and that was still hitting him more relentlessly than anything. He didn't trust Peter's help, but he'd had no choice to let Evans fix up his brother while he kept Moony from getting a glimpse of anyone while he was freaking out like that. The last thing Remus had needed was to possibly start attacking himself or anyone else in further distress as he kept a vice like grip Sirius had been happy to take.

There was no easy answer he could have gone back to do again, and it was making him sick.

James nodded slowly and whispered, "that's fair." He reached over and thumped him on the chest, but Sirius could still tell he was sorry for his choice even as he tried to relax. It had worked out, this time...

"Same with Regulus," he added after a moment just to get a rise out of him, making James smile now.

"Good, he's a bad influence," he smirked.

"Thought that was me?" Sirius pouted. "Are you insinuating I'm a good influence?"

"The best," James assured. Both boys stopped their teasing abruptly when Quidditch practice was a fail, and what Harry walked in on next.

Sirius wolf whistled while James fell to the floor laughing again. They were all so exhausted, there wasn't a straight face left in the room as hilarity ensued for Harry's expense of jealousy erupting as he found Ginny snogging Dean.

"Doesn't really surprise me I guess," Lily straightened herself long enough to say in between giggles. "Harry's mentioned her once a year at least for some reason or other, it was bound to happen."

"Are you mad?" James wheezed. "This came out of bloody nowhere! He called her Ron's little sister a few chapters ago, now he's daydreaming about killing Dean he's so jealous! This is insanity!"

They started bickering then, still fighting off smiles a bit as they debated, and the others watched in a sort of gob-smacked silence for several moments before Regulus pleaded, "can't we change the subject? I've heard more than enough of this from Ron and Hermione all year."

"Aww, I didn't even think you'd notice," Sirius teased. "Have you even kissed anyone yet?"

Regulus went just the slightest bit red in embarrassment which could definitely just be delayed laughter, but held his brother's gaze, not breaking an inch to show the answer was no. He was starting to think he'd never want to with as much drama would apparently come with it all.

Peter mercifully decided to keep reading though, even amongst the still smattering of indulgent happiness that came from Harry's sudden concern about being in love with his friend's sister. Sirius caught Remus' eye from across the room and gave him a little wink, who grinned back remorselessly to his ever growing amusement. At least Remus never freaked out about this kind of shit.

Ron's following attitude wasn't as funny to hear about, and he wished he could just tell that idiot to go snog someone already if that was really his problem, but Harry's solution didn't feel better!

"Oh, Harry, no!" James groaned with the first honest flares of disappointment his son's apparent solution to help Ron was to give him his luck potion the day of the game!

"That's cheating that is, Hermione getting him onto the team is bad enough. What's the point of playing Quidditch if you won't rough it," Sirius scowled, trying hard not to say the words too venomously about Harry, but he really didn't appreciate what he was hearing.

The others were fascinated to see a line those two finally wouldn't cross, Lily was watching in open avidness now and Potter didn't even notice he had his sole attention on the book. Him and Black grimaced for every lucky break that occurred, and it was the least spirited game they'd ever participated in. Not one cheer for a goal saved!

Only Regulus seemed to notice or care for the fact Malfoy hadn't attended this game because he was out sick apparently, and his ever growing off screen problem was even more interesting than Quidditch for once.

They were all admittedly distracted by the after math of the game though, Harry's little trick. His two parents laughed hardest of all, and neither even seemed to notice they were so impressed with their kid. It was like a perfect melding of the two, a prank and a little underhanded moral boost by using a potion to solve a problem that Lily gladly would have done.

When Peter kept going though and they all heard how Ron celebrated with Lavender, the birds became a sudden worry Hermione's spell was going to lash out at them. Lily even threw up a shield charm, just in case they mistaked her red hair. Thankfully they did not, but nobody was smiling anymore when they did attack Ron in the book and Hermione ran off sobbing.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #Marauders #HP #HBP #Wolfstar #Jilly #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Regulus Black #Lily Evans #James Potter #Peter Pettigrew #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith

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a-lil-perspective · 4 years ago

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Handle With Care

A/N: Okay I know y’all are probably sick of the repetitive Crosshair X Reader works lately. But I promise it will all make sense soon. First and foremost, I’m working to dig deep in establishing some key points while the narratives move forward. Aiming for the full effect here. (Also, keep in mind that I’m reviving ‘Verd’ika’). The fic takes place sometime after ‘Reticle’, for reference. Sick Crosshair. Soft Crosshair. (I know, basically all of my works are that way) I will defend that moody sniper because in actuality, he is a very soft boi who not-so-secretly just wants to be loved and coddled, and that is the hill I’m dying on. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. [Warnings: None] @shadow-hyder @starflyer-104 @thegoodbatch @obiorbenkenobi @kriffingunlucky @karpasia @halzore @everyonehasanindividuality (Tag List is open:))

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Have you ever sneezed while your face is sealed airtight inside a bucket of plastoid?

News flash: It’s nearly as annoying as having a Yalbec male try to eat you alive—well, mate with you. Same difference, the sniper of Clone Force 99 will eventually come to find out.

The sneezing makes the air stagnant and it’s obnoxious, yet Crosshair is uncontrollably going on his fourteenth one in the short span of five minutes.

That’s completely normal.

The forebode of a creeping illness intensifies as the day progresses, and Crosshair finds himself growing more perturbed, fluctuating between hot and cold like an oscillating pendulum, and ticking like a time bomb waiting to go off, because of it. Tech’s face, scrunched with concern after having come at Crosshair with a thermal scanner, informs the sniper of a budding fever. But he’s not sick. Not at all.

He’s not sick, until your irresistible amiability convinces him that it’s okay to be, and that promptly earns him a spot snuggled in your lap, his stiff neck resting atop your thighs with only a slight begrudge to follow. His breaths are somewhat labored at the tightness seizing his chest. There’s a sharp pain running behind his eyes, and the feeling of suffocation is palpable—there’s so much pressure along his facial structure, his sinuses are burning. Yet he still manages to enjoy the way you’re running your fingers through the short fibers of his hair, nails scratching lightly along his temples and eliciting a stuffy hum of contentment from the miserable sniper.

Despite his unfortunate state, you’re having a rather lovely time. There’s no denying; you experience the swell of your already nurturing heart and an exhilarating thrill at the prospect of taking care of others—of Crosshair, specifically; ever the complex individual. You’ve long since established your solicit of such assistance, to which Crosshair slowly found himself relenting to the idea of as time paved the way. But the actual application of moments were rare.

It made the sniper slightly uncomfortable; the way his initial sneeze earlier that day had you immediately zeroing in on him with an intensity he believed only his sniper eyes were capable of. “I’m onto you”, your archly tone had soon informed, while a smile displaying nothing but affection immediately followed. Your height of perception rivaled his own, and extensive time spent with you reminded Crosshair that it was foolhardy to even attempt a facade, at this point. All it took was a beckoning of your index finger for the sniper to succumb to your care.

It’s every Clone’s most inward desire, really: to want, to crave the extended offer of a wholesome company that’s found beyond fellow Clone brethren. It’s but a dream. To take a beautiful soul by the hand and lead them past the doors of mass duplication—and in turn be lead—before traveling a ways until they each ascend the staircase of individuality; a spiraled one, snaking around itself yet still managing to differentiate. A Clone wants to usher you onto the same ship as them, wishes you to travel along the exact journey they’re on. It’s a never ending one, until it’s a short lived one. It surpasses beyond the surface level, transcending the artifacts of scars littering the planes of their battle-worn skin. It grants you a passage through the ancient cave of their emotions, where each broken piece you find along the way presents another opportunity for restitution, however minuscule. To say it’s a journey is only half of the intel.

Only half, but it’s progress for the sniper Crosshair. The thought worms it’s way past his sickly haze and warms him more than the herbal tea you steeped and promptly ordered him to indulge. He can’t exactly pay the same type of homage to the taste however, as he finds himself reflexively wrinkling his nose in disgust with each sip. The muted liquid didn’t taste near as good as one of his oldest companions that is Corellian Whiskey, in which he’s certain one long swig of will immediately restore his health to optimum performance.

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way,” you let him down with pragmatism and a chuckle. “You need something that’s going to help you get better, not get you tipsy.”

You ignore his rising justifications, taking the empty mug that he downed through a swirl of complaints and placing it on the small stand beside the cot before opening the drawer to sift through the contents in search of the standby supply of anti-inflammatories. A sound of disappointment elicits as you turn up empty, and you gingerly begin to shift Crosshair off your lap in order to exit the room in continuing the search.

“I’ll be right back,” you promise gently, however, his fervent resistance halts any further movement.

“So this is it... you’re just gonna leave me here, sick and dying?”

The sight of Crosshair’s perceived indignation is beyond amusing to you. His voice is faint and the words are drawn out in attempt at gaining sympathy over your apparent ‘inhumane’ treatment to the frail sniper. You’re in the middle of convincing him of his long life ahead and encouraging him to drop the theatrics when goggled eyes peer in from the doorway.

“Need anything in here?” Tech’s oh-so-helpful self inquires. You note that there’s a thinly veiled mischievous ring to his question. Realizing there’s no negotiating with the over-exaggerating sniper, you’re thankful for Tech’s intercession, unbeknownst to him.

“Yes, actually; anti-inflammatories and some antihistamines, if you’ve got them? I’ve got a clingy, feverish assassin in my lap who I’m trying to convince isn’t dying from a cold.”

“I’m not clingy!” The sniper’s hoarse whine permeated, eliciting a snort from you that failed to overpower another round of his sneezing fit.

Tech’s eyes sparkled with mirth in mirroring yours, and he beamed knowingly. Words seemed to play at the tip of his tongue but he appeared to think better of it, instead responding with a succinct nod of his head before promptly making a retrieval.

It took seventeen seconds and approximately ten sneezes before Tech returned to the scene of Crosshair’s frustrated state now manifested as various obscenities. The engineer handed you the bottles of medication, and the whimsical glint returned once again. He backed out of the room slowly and with deliberation while keeping his eyes trained on the sniper, before addressing his older brother.

“Oh, by the way Crosshair: I’ve recorded the sound of your rather undignified whining; prepare for blackmail—” the pillow suddenly and aggressively sailing over your head towards the fleeing engineer had you ducking and trying not to develop your own state of wheezing from the laughter that ensued.

“TECH! I’m gonna kick your ass!” The raspy threat fell on deaf ears, for the cheeky youngest brother was long gone. Crosshair was left in the company of both your quietude and incessant coughing once again.

“If you don’t cough up a lung, first,” you address him in concern.

Crosshair’s eyes met the frown tugging your features. The cool pads of your fingers absently traced the line-work of reticle surrounding his right eye. The gesture bestowed a sense of comfort, and Crosshair allowed his contentment to echo in the space between. He reached up to capture your fingers in his own. The radiating heat from his increasingly flushed face was a stark contrast against your mild body temperature.

“...I feel terrible,” he allows himself the admission. It’s a work in progress: Crosshair’s understanding that he can truly be authentically honest in such company—a good kind of honest. Vulnerable, even. More communicative. You’re constantly testing his mettle and his ability to emote, and you manage to bring the sniper to his knees each time; though not out of defeat, not at all. You stroke his hair and that smile, it burns right through him. In all honesty, Crosshair would find a way to malinger nearly every day if it meant getting to be taken care of like... this. He confesses that it’s... different. It’s... nice—very nice. A rarity, but one Crosshair found himself to be enjoying a little bit more with each budding opportunity.

“I know,” you soothe. “Rest, ner cyare ram’ser.”

His fond expression at your doting soon donns a coat of revelation; an afterthought. “Actually, I think just a good smooch will do the trick for me, Doctor—best medicine there is,” he convinces, however weakly.

You snort incredulously. “You’d know this from experience? And for the last time, I’m no Doctor—you go around saying that and I’ll have some of the best Clone medics in the GAR greeting me with trivia, or something.” You briefly acknowledge the way Crosshair has conferred upon you the title of ‘Doctor’ ever since you patched up a nasty gash of his some time ago, and you find sudden hilarity in the picturesque scenario of having Clone Trooper Kix, profound medic of the 501st whom you’ve met a handful of times, suddenly taking a predilection to you because he thinks you’re some prestigious civvie medic capable of wrangling in even the Bad Batch.

Oh how that couldn’t be farther from the truth—the quartet of super soldiers hardly adhere to your advice or sound reason on a good day. You’ll be the first to admit: you have no control over those rowdy men.

The sniper shrugs, rolling his shoulders before tentatively returning to the comfort of your lap and sprawling out. He inhales deeply, and smoothly continues. “In theory, it’s the best medicine there is. So maybe we should, you know, test that out—”

Crosshair melted against the spontaneous velvet of hungry lips. In that moment, neither of you actually paid any mind to his sniffles or the adenoidal lilt of his voice that was now resonating. He tastes exactly as you remember; you’ve had a few previous engagements. Though few and far between, they leave you certainly not forgetful, and Crosshair is a man to relish in the sight of you imprinting your affection on him. The flight to blissful paradise is over before you know it as you retract and consider it a victory over the way Crosshair nearly whines at your absence.

“That’s all you get, ram’ser—just a taste for now to get you to shut your yap and rest.”

Crosshair regards you with as much indignation as he can muster. “You’re a cruel woman.”

You deflect with a smirk and assertion. “Yet here you are, coming back for more.”

“Because I can never get enough,” he defends.

“But you feel somewhat better at least, don’t you? Best medicine there is,” you smugly remind the ill sniper.

Crosshair’s eyelids grew heavy laden as he focused on the hot smolder benevolently spreading through his veins like a blessing; an antidote that is your delicious affection and strong medication. It’s beyond welcoming, and Crosshair can’t decipher whether the rising heat was from the fever, or your intoxicating taste, or both. While the sniper wasn’t absolute, he came to the fierce deduction that it definitely had something to do with you, and suddenly his head was spinning.

“Yeah... Verd... you taste way better than the Whiskey,” Crosshair slurred with realization while in his delirious state, barely above a murmur as he nestled his head further into your lap and Maker, drowsiness was forcefully threatening to claim him already and the medications had barely begun to take effect. Your serene embrace deserved utmost commending for rivaling Wrecker’s, who’s only other arms Crosshair ever felt secure within—prior to you.

Your brows arch as a playful smile materializes. “Verd?” You questioningly test the syllable on your tongue.

Crosshair manages a conspiratorial smirk through his thickening fog of exhaustion. “Yeah... ‘Verd’. You know... Verd’ika? It’s a... new nickname for you—the shortened version,” he struggles to explain—well, ramble is more like it—he’s uncharacteristically rambling at this point, and you absently wonder if Tech and his impish tendencies are just around the corner still recording the latest developments for future leverage.

“You’re adorable when you’re like this,” you endearingly point out. Slightly goading though, you realize, as Crosshair’s head abruptly twists to better regard you with nothing short of perceived offense. His pride appears to have momentarily overpowered his cold in favor of salvaging his dignity.

“I’m a sniper,” he fiercely explains. “I’m not adorable.”

“No, of course not,” you smoothly placate after smothering a laugh. His newfound nickname for you once again surfaces from your sea of thoughts. You pursue your lips in contemplation. “Verd... I like it.”

Crosshair smirks approvingly. “Can’t wait to hear all the nicknames you have for me, Darlin.”

Of course he would say that. Crosshair’s not dying from a cold, but he is dying to hear the mellifluous vocalization of all the different names you’ve stored up for him while finally in the midst of love making.

Good thing patience is his strong suit.

A textured palm lovingly rests against the expanse of his forehead while his fatigued fingers card through your hair before coming to a standstill. In the production of quietude, sniffles, and unspoken devotion, your eyes flutter shut as you lean down to gently bond your forehead with his own as his exhaustion finally establishes itself in the form of light snoring.

“Another time,” you hum assuredly.

#star wars #The Bad Batch #Crosshair #Crosshair X Reader #okay but I love the nickname ‘Verd’#my writing #it’s all disorderly organization #but we’re getting there folks #just bear with me #please trust the process #or don’t #I don’t even trust it myself aha #it’s a Lil thing

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sepublic · 4 years ago

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Alright, lay it down on me. How do think we're going to be introduced to blight manner? And what are some fun speculations you can make about the place and the character's interactions in it? I've got a sneaking suspicion that Luz is going to end up there by total accident, and the whole time she's going to be thinking "I shouldn't be here, I really shouldn't BE HERE!"

Do you have any speculations on how we're going to be introduced to blight manor?

Answering both of these asks;

I’m going to be honest Anon, I have no clue, it could go ANY way, it’s really up to the writers and I eagerly await to see what they do. But what you suggested makes a LOT of sense for Luz, she’s already a cryptid as-is and a disaster magnet in her own right… No doubt, the Blight Manor would be luxurious and massive inside, but also kind of cold and empty as a result, a lot like Belos’ castle. Perhaps it’d be too brightly lit, or the architecture itself would feel distant, while its size makes visitors feel small and insignificant. These would be obvious, yet sensible, design qualities from a meta perspective- And maybe from an in-universe one as well, Odalia and Alador seem like they could be intense enough, to insist that their own home is threatening and intimidating to the ‘lower classes’ and ‘weaker witches’!

It’d also be fascinating to see Luz navigate Blight Manor in a way where she’s not supposed to be there… Possibly by accident, maybe Amity or the Twins invited her without permission of their parents. I’d love to see King along for the ride there… And it’d be interesting to have Luz witness what goes on behind closed doors, and see firsthand how abusive Odalia and Alador can be, when under the impression that only family is present. Maybe Luz could even stumble upon a few dirty secrets, a skeleton in the closet or two… Knowing this show’s humor, it’d be a missed opportunity to not have a literal skeleton! Though while this could just be a morbid joke involving a potentially talking skeleton, there’s always the chance of the implication of murder by Odalia and Alador as well… So never mind. Not that I wouldn’t put it past them, either.

Regardless, that kind of situation lends itself to hilarity, to the audience exploring with Luz the sensation that we really shouldn’t be here, that we’re trespassing… And it could instill a feeling of alertness and intrusion, maybe hinting at how uncomfortable the Blight kids are in their own home! It’d be interesting to see Emira and Edric happily show Luz around while Amity tries to be professional, with Luz getting into fun and antics… But then Amity snaps and is VERY serious about not messing around, and Luz stops because she can tell that this is very important to her, that Amity really does fear her parents. Maybe we could get a scene where the Blight kids find Luz and are surprised, and they awkwardkly work to smuggle her out of the Blight Manor…

And maybe even Luz learning of Amity’s crush on her, and/or becoming aware of her own crush on Amity! I’ve got thoughts about Luz meeting Odalia and Alador on a potential visit to Blight Manor all dressed-up with slicked-back hair, and a less androgynous outfit (because you know Odalia and Alador are the kind of prejudiced people to look down on Luz’s unorthodox tastes and form of expression). I think it’s safe to say that whatever happens, shenanigans will ensue… And there’s an unfortunately HIGH chance of some very uncomfortable stuff happening/being revealed as well.

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house amity #amity blight #the owl house odalia #odalia blight #the owl house alador #alador blight #speculation #ask

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plotthreads · 4 years ago

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Kagome during the “break” and child spacing in that period

Because of course I have head canon for that.

Miroku and Sango are clearly going for the “we know nothing about cycles and birth control in the sengoku period and if you have enough children, probably a few will make it to adulthood”. Which is sort of adorable.

But Kagome is a modern woman, and she knows far more about that than they do. This could have a few implications, depending on how concerned she was about the timeline - and she honestly never seems to worry too much about the timeline to be honest.

In my head canon, Kagome did some living in university (remember, I aged everyone up!) including trying to fall in love with someone else, but realizes her heart has always belonged to Inuyasha.

I think she would realize it when she realized that she had been subconsciously studying and gathering things with which to go back into the well. Maybe stored in a box by the well?

That means she might have learned a little bit of “off the grid” medicine - meaning the herbs are all well and good, but it’s hard to forget about the existence of antibiotics. Just the fact she knows about hand washing is huge and likely the most life-saving thing she could do, but could also bring a penicillin culture with her. While she wouldn’t be able to do all the purification that typically goes into isolating penicillin from mold, she could do things to keep cross contamination down and continue to grow it or to be even more safe, just bring a decent sized bottle of dried penicillin for rehydration and treatment. It would likely be under treatment overall, but benefits of being in the Sengoku period: No antibiotic resistance yet!

So bringing hygiene and penicillin would be big things, even if she didn’t bring much else. I imagined she would find herself browsing the internet looking at questions like “What would you do in a post-apocalyptic world if ‘X’ happened?” because that would be her curiosity in how they might be able to compensate for technological lacking in the past. While traditional prepping that is done in america would not be a thing for her, they would have some useful information on how to do things in a pinch. I feel like she might have even tried to figure out how to do a basic c section or appendectomy. They would be crude and still likely to kill, but it at least would give people a chance at survival.

Of course, Kagome knows about modern menstrual control. I have different head canons about whether she just likes going into a menstrual hut for the vacation or uses a cup or something so she doesn’t have to deal with it.

But like I said, even just knowing that germs exist puts her medical knowledge higher than anyone else at the time and would improve outcomes.

Now, she might not have gotten pregnant because of the difficult conceiving, or she learned basic fertility signs with cervical mucous to be able to help avoid pregnancy. If she really wanted to wait, she could have gotten the nexplanon implant in her arm or IUD, knowing how to remove it when she wanted to have kids.

Plot bunny related to that, sort of the flip side of one I mentioned earlier:

Kagome and Inuyasha are married, rucking like fabbits as newlyweds are prone to do. She doesn’t get pregnant. The year goes on, and then the next year. Rin announces her pregnancy, and Inuyasha is worried. He tries to reassure Kagome that he doesn’t care, even if she can’t have children, he still loves her.

Kagome responds with shock, because they haven’t talked about it at all, and she didn’t think Inuyasha wanted a baby yet. (He assumed they didn’t have to talk about it, babies just happened back then LOL) She then tries to explain a birth control implant, which Inuyasha has no concept of and cannot really wrap his brain around. Hilarity ensues. And they realize they do want a child, so she takes it out.

(this is the mirror image to the idea if the demon can control conception, they have “infertility” because Kagome didn’t know about hanyo reproduction.)

Clearly I’m amused by the cultural differences and assumptions they would have concerning childbearing. :)

But maybe after her 3rd or 4th child, Sango decides to ask Kagome her secret ;)

#inuyasha #inukag #hanyo no yashahime #way too much head canon #sengoku improvised medicine

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ickle-ronniekins · 5 years ago

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crush, fred x reader

request: from anon: I don’t know if ur accepting requests right now but if you are, could you write about Fred having a crush on a girl that happens to be best friends with Ron? Btw I hope that things with your boyfriend are beginning to get better x | hi darling sunshine! of course i’ll write that for you! & yes, requests are open indeed :) aw thanks lovey, we’re always working at it, also this is hella long i got so carried away i am so sorry lmao x also idk how i feel about this ugh cause i tried to make it sound like the reader and ron are best friends but reading it back i’m kind of like ??? but also i rewrote the first portion like literally four different times UGH i struggled with this one but it was a good struggle anon THANK U for the request!

prompt: none

warnings: instability bc weasley perfection? IDK MAN

You and Ron were sitting in the Great Hall, watching as brave students from each house and the other wizarding schools placed their names into the goblet, hoping to be chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. “I wish I could enter,” he told you.

Just then, Harry appeared beside you both. “No you bloody don’t,” he told him and laughed.

“Yeah, Ron, you’ve got to be barking mad to want to enter,” you said. Just then, his older twin brothers ran into the Great Hall, ringing in cheers from everyone around them. They were both holding something in their hands. You just rolled your eyes. “Case in point, Ron. Look at those two.”

Fred and George were showing off whatever concoction they’d brewed up when they came over to the three of you. George asked, “Don’t think we can do it?”

“No,” the three of you said together.

Fred overdramatically fell backwards and into you—pretending to be offended by your doubt that they were going to successfully be able to place their names in the goblet, whilst somehow being able to trick Dumbledore’s age line.

“Y/N,” Fred whined, “I’m heartbroken. Literally heartbroken that you don’t believe in us.”

“Oh, it’s not that I don’t believe in you, Freddie,” you told him and his eyes were swimming with excitement. “It’s just that I believe in Dumbledore more.”

Ron and Harry began laughing next to you when the twins began to shake their vials. The surrounding students were becoming more and more excited to see what was about to happen, and many people began whispering animatedly. The goblet was showing off a deep blue color fire, and Fred and George were more than ready to place their names in.

“Just wait,” Fred told you and swung his arm around your shoulder. “In three days time I’ll have been chosen to compete in the tournament, and by the end of the school year, I’ll be the champion, and you’ll be so impressed that you’ll fall head over heels.”

You scoffed at him. “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” he told you, “It is. Ready, George?”

“Ready, Fred,”

“Bottoms up!” they said together.

And that’s when hilarity ensued.

Later that evening, in the common room, Fred, George, Harry and Ron were playing a game of cards, while you, Ginny, and Hermione were sitting around the fire, chatting about the upcoming tournament and the Yule Ball.

George was scratching his face and saying, “I still have remnants of that bloody beard from this afternoon. Who knew our aging potion wouldn’t work?”

Ron laughed. “Everyone, mate.”

“Oh, it definitely worked,” Harry retorted, “just not the way you wanted it too.” Him and Ron started snickering like little girls.

Fred wasn’t listening. He was shuffling his cards slowly, sort of in a daydream like trance, and Ron was snapping his fingers in front of his face.

He was too busy peering at you to notice anything else around him. He was focused on the way your hair cascaded over your shoulders in soft curls, the rosy pink your cheeks turned after being out in the cold, your voice bouncing off of the common rooms walls every time you let a giggle escape your lips, the clothes you wore other than your Gryffindor robes.

“Hello?” Ron said, slapping Fred across the cheek.

Surprised and brought back to reality, Fred placed a hand to his cheek. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

George just laughed. “We’ve been trying to get your attention for the last ten minutes, Freddie,”

Fred softened and turned back towards you. “Oh,” he said, completely forgetting the moment. He watched you still, and when you looked up from your conversation with Hermione and Ginny and caught his glance, you beamed at him. It’s almost as if you could hear his heart begin to pound.

He turned back towards his friends and told them, “Erm, guys—I’ve something to tell you,”

George, Ron, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh, just a little bit. The common room fire was roaring and the students around were buzzing, but Fred Weasley was nervous. He was actually nervous.

George smirked when he told him, “Yeah? Go on then.”

Fred swallowed over a lump in his throat. He made sure that you were out of earshot. “I’m...kind of mad for Y/N.”

The three boys sat for a moment and then burst out into laughter. Fred furrowed his brows, obviously offended by their laughter and his humiliation, when Harry spoke.

“We know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, mate, the whole bloody world knows,” George told his twin. “You’re not exactly subtle with it.”

Ron snorted before saying, “Yeah, and your flirting isn’t the best, either.” Fred punched him in the arm. “Don’t worry, she hasn’t said anything to me about it. Pretty sure she doesn’t even realize it’s flirting—” Ron couldn’t help but snicker, and Fred punched him in the arm again.

He turned back towards you, watching you again, wanting nothing more than to run over, spin you around and kiss you, but he held back the urge. He placed his hand under his cheek and rested on it, peering at you with admiration. To the boys, he said, “So what the bloody hell do I do now?”

“What you’re good at,”

Fred looked towards his twin with confusion written on his face.

“Be honest, do your thing and tell her.”

You were suffering silently in Potions with Ron. Across from you, Harry and Hermione seemed to be brewing something perfect, while yours, on the other hand, wasn’t looking terribly great. Ron kept groaning and letting his head fall onto the desk.

Snape was in a particularly bad mood that Wednesday afternoon, for whatever unbeknownst reason. He had given you all the hardest potion to brew, with directions that weren’t clear in the slightest, and left you all to the cauldrons. And the punishment for not brewing it absolutely perfectly? Two weeks detention.

You wished you could be outside in the snow, walking through Hogsmeade, heading into Zonko’s, warming up in The Three Broomsticks with a butterbeer. Anything but this.

“I hate this bloody class,” Ron said as he added a sprinkle of something to the potion that prompted it to turn a nasty, purply-brown color. Ron scowled and peered at the directions on the board once more.

“Just think—in a week, we’ll be at the Yule Ball, dancing the night away, not worrying about this stupid lesson,” you told him and grabbed his hand before he disastrously placed way too many porcupine quills in the potion. “No, no—two, Ron, not five.”

Two did the trick. The grody, brown looking potion in front of you seemed to take a turn for the better when it slowly became a nice looking green color, which is what it should have been in the first place. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Hey, who’re you bringing to that, anyway?”

“I dunno,” you told him truthfully as you added another mistletoe berry into the potion. “Why? D’you want to go with me, Ron?” you teased.

“Ha-ha,” he said sarcastically, and you could’ve sworn you saw him glance admiringly at Hermione, who was almost finished brewing her perfect potion. Ron cleared his throat when he noticed you saw him. He continued, “No, really, who do you think you’ll go with?”

“I dunno, Ron!” you laughed. “I genuinely have no idea. Why are you pushing this?” You saw his cheeks turn rosy and he seemed to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He was hiding something. “Ronald Weasley, what do you know?”

“Nothing!” Ron jumped up. Snape looked up from the other end of the room where he was observing the Slytherin’s potions. He shot the both of you a look of pure disgust, and went back to his observations. Ron swallowed over a lump in his throat when you kept prodding him with your wand. He rolled his robe sleeves to his elbows and breathed out slowly. You loved how nervous Ron got when he was keeping a secret, because truthfully, he wasn’t very good at keeping them. He kept pushing his long hair out of his eyes and tapping his feet against the floor. When you wouldn’t let up, he finally blurted out, “Enough with the third degree! Freddie’s mad for you, alright?”

You were so taken aback, literally, you almost knocked your cauldron onto the floor. Luckily, behind you, Dean Thomas caught it with mere milliseconds to spare. “What?” you asked Ron. “No he isn’t,” you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.

Ron’s nervousness seemed to slip away when he laughed and said, “Don’t make me say ‘I told you, so’.”

It’s as if Ron’s words made them appear, because Fred and George slipped into your Potions class, somehow, without Snape seeing. At least, at first.

“What the bloody hell are you two doing in here?” Ron and Harry asked them.

George just rolled his eyes. “I tried to stop him, but he took my advice way too literally.”

“What advice?” You and Hermione wondered aloud at the same time.

Fred stepped closer to you and your heart started to pound. In the middle of class? Was he kidding? With twenty or so other students there? And Snape?

“You’re coming to the Yule Ball with me,” he told you straightforwardly. It wasn’t a question and you didn’t seem to have a choice in the matter.

You asked him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” he told you confidently. “Yeah, it is because I’m mad for you,” he winked, “and I know you’re mad for me, too.”

You could feel your lips curl into a sensual sort of smirk. Just then, someone from Slytherin yelled out and pointed towards the twins, and Snape turned swiftly from the back of the dungeons. You could’ve sworn you heard him yell out, “Weasley!” but you were too distracted to even care. All you cared about was the boy in front of you—with his long red hair, his heart melting half smiling, and the fact that he was a bloody idiot sneaking into your class. You didn’t care about anything else. Your heart was racing. The dungeons were bustling with chatter now—about Snape being even more angry than he already was, and about those older, redheaded Weasleys that somehow managed to make their way into a busy Potions class.

George was kicking Fred’s leg, saying, “Bloody hell, mate, let’s go!” but Fred didn’t move. Instead, he stood there, waiting for you to say something, anything.

“So?” Ron, Harry, George and Hermione all asked together.

You looked at them and then back towards Fred and asked him, “Well what took you so bloody long to figure it out?”

His smirk only grew, his eyes enticing you to run out of that classroom and back to whatever empty room you could find. But just then, Snape reached the top of the classroom and tried to grab Fred by his robe sleeves.

George kicked Fred once more before sprinting out of the classroom, and before following his twin, Fred squeezed your hand and said to you, “Being chased by Snape is totally worth it, by the way.” He slipped out from underneath Snape’s grimy fingertips and left the Potions professor seething at the seams.

Professor Snape turned to you, red faced and livid, and announced in front of the entire class, “A week’s detention! Was it worth it, Y/L/N? Was it worth it for that Weasley boy?”

But Fred was still there, outside the classroom. He was careful not to be seen, but he was still peering in at you to make sure you didn’t receive too bad of a punishment for his shenanigans. You knew Fred would probably manage to sneak his way into your detention, too. You smirked at Snape and then turned your attention to Freddie in the corridor. Without skipping a beat, you winked and responded, “Totally worth it.”

#fred weasley #george weasley #weasley twins #fred and george weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley reader insert #hp imagine #hp imagines #harry potter imagines #do we like this #or????

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yanak324 · 5 years ago

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*Fanfic Friday* Rec List ☕️👓

Hi all. Happy Friyay! The only reason I even know what day this is, is because of this rec list so thank the fandom for that. One of my coworkers this week asked a very important question - what is time? I have not a goddamn clue, but what I do know is this week our fandom was FED. So many authors either posted something new or updated their WIPs and I could not be more grateful.

In addition to the stories below, check out my previous rec lists for those that have updated. And as always, please don’t forget to comment, leave kudos, bookmark, or even DM the author to let them know you liked their work. In this time especially, it’s important for us to encourage and support one another in our artistic/creative pursuits. Plus, it’ll inevitably result in more content and everyone knows we need it!

Happy Reading! 📕📗📘📙

Whenever I look up, there you are. by Cynar

This is a Gendrya/Far From the Madding Crowd AU and it’s *perfect,* utterly *perfect*. For those who haven’t read the novel or seen the movie, I won’t spoil. All I’ll say is Arya and Gendry are perfectly suited to fit the roles of the wild and unconventional Bathsheba and the reclusive, intense Mr. Gabriel. And we have so much left to go. I could not be more excited for a story!

Mate by @arsenicandfinelace

This is such a cute oneshot. Demisexual!Gendry unexpectedly falls for his younger best friend (Arya duh) and hilarity + sexiness ensues. Plus Hot Pie has his own dating woes, which had me cackling. Truly a lovely escape from reality from a supremely talented author. Couldn’t ask for a better treat.

Love in the Time of Quarantine by @fandomjuxtaposition

Speaking of cuteness AND quarantine, in this oneshot by one of my faves (and pretty prolific) writers, Arya and Gendry are forced to cancel their big, fancy wedding due to a pandemic. I’m sure this is happening all over the world right now, and this has a sweet, very Gendrya-esque resolution that’s guaranteed to melt even the coldest of hearts. It certainly melted mine 💖💍

our love full of storms by @alltheworldsinmyhead

I would be doing this lengthy oneshot a disservice if I called it a marriage crisis fic, but that’s kinda exactly what this is. Two kids, and a couple years later, Gendrya are in a rut, and this story takes on a journey of how they got together and what’s next for them as they deal with relationship issues. I don’t have kids and I’m not married, but I felt this so deeply, and that’s testament to this author’s ability to pull you right into the scene. Plus, this is one of the best Gendry characterizations I’ve ever read in a modern AU, so definitely worth the read. You will not be disappointed, I promise!

come be my love in the wet woods (and be my love in the rain) by @anupturnedboat

Reunion fics are my crack, but even if this isn’t your cup of tea, the dynamic between Arya and Gendry in this will surely hook you. Arya goes to Storm’s End post-S8 but Gendry isn’t exactly ready to sweep everything that happened between them under the rug. This leads to some delicious tension, good, honest conversation and a sweet and hopeful resolution that made me smile! Absolutely worth the read.

Sifting through waters by @tweedledeestwin

This story continues to be one of my favorite multi-chapter modern AUs out there. I normally don’t even like soulmate AUs, but this is done in such a unique, creative way that it feels perfectly suited to the narrative. This is absolutely a slow burn, but the sub-plot will keep you coming back for more. I love the universe this author created and I appreciate her commitment to writing the story exactly as she sees it. It inspires me as a writer and gets me hyped as a reader and I will never not recommend it!

Bonus: I’ve been rereading an oldie but goodie - The Beauty in the Deadly Things by @jenevajensen. This is the gold standard of post-S8 Gendrya canon, to me at least. It’s written incredibly well, features the best of Gendrya’s dynamic (read: these two are thirsty and devoted to each other) with some sweet OCs and perfect character interactions. If you haven’t read it, check it out. It’s absolutely worth the read.

#gendrya #arya x gendry #gendrya fanfiction #gendrya fic rec lists #yana's rec list #modern au #canon #oneshots #a little bit of everything #check out all the talent #and comment #comments are currency

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brucewaynehastoomanykids · 4 years ago

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Ideal Night

Request from @ravenfan1242 : "I would love a story where Superboy moves into the tower and Damian is struggling with his feelings for Raven. Con who flirts with everyone thinks Raven is absolutely beautiful but she has such an opposite (he might say frigid) personality. Until she helps him with something deep he struggles with and all of a sudden Damian has competition. And hilarity and make rivalry ensues. But Raven also has strong, hidden feelings for Damian."

_____________________________________

"Chin up, princess, or the crown slips." A voice purred above me.

I mentally groaned as I closed my book and looked up at the boy hovering over me. "You really are just so infuriating, Connor." I say plainly.

Connor only smirked. "Missing something?" He said, pointing next to me.

I looked down to see that my phone had been snatched from my side. I was surprised I hadn't noticed its absence, but then again, it's not like I was very attached to it, and I was a little too invested in my book.

I thought back to what Damian had told me just a few days ago after I had accidentally dumped into him in the hallway leading to my room: he had told me that, when I wanted to be, I wasn't very observant of my surroundings. I had thought he was just being bitter that I had bumped into him, but now I suppose he was right.

Oh, there I go again, thinking about Damian. I think I'm only now starting to fully come to the realization that I have feelings for him. Of course, I can't act on them, Damian obviously seems to feel the complete opposite with his judgemental remarks and slight glares in my direction. Though it will admit, there is something a little off with his inner emotions, like he's struggling to realize something. I try not to pry too much into people's emotions without their permission, but with him, it's sometimes unavoidable. His emotions and thoughts are simply too loud to ignore at times.

But even so, if I could act on my emotions, how would I even do it? I've never felt something like this before, and if I'm being honest, it's a little frightening, because part of me doesn't know how to handle it... which leads me to the question of should I even act on my emotions if that's the case? What if I do and I lose control? Ugh, enough of that now. Just see what Connor wants.

"Can you please explain to me why my phone is gone?" I asked with a cocked brow.

Connor let a small, devious smirk form across his lips as he held said cellular device up and waved it slightly. He leaned his body over the couch, wrapping his arms around me and holding my phone to my face.

"I was just gonna be like 'hey, can I take a picture of you,'" he unlocked my phone to a rather embarrassing photo of me from the day prior. I had fallen asleep reading, my head rested on my palm, mouth slightly ajar as my book seemed to slowly fall from my lap, "But I couldn't wake that cute little face of yours."

I raised an eyebrow once more. "And you couldn't have just taken this photo on your own phone because...?"

"I need a favor and I knew you wouldn't do it unless I blackmailed you." He pulled the phone away and set it in his pocket. "See, I got that picture set to post to social media with just the touch of a button. But if you do me a solid, beautiful, I'll give you both your phone and delete the picture."

Curse Garfield and Jaime for showing him how modern technology works. I couldn't just let this side, I should try to get out of this.

"Or I could just grab my phone from you and delete it myself."

"Ahh, see," he wiggled a finger in my face, "I knew you'd try something like that. Which is why I also have this on my own phone. The same phone that I actually don't have in the Tower at the moment for this particular reason."

I rolled my eyes. I was getting tired of his games. "If I do whatever you want will you please just leave me alone?" This earned me a goofy closed smile and a nod. I sighed. "Well, what is it?"

It was then Connor's face changed from its usual playful expression to a serious one. "I've been living with this nice couple, Jon and Martha Kent, for a while now..." he looked down at the ground, seeming a bit embarrassed of what he was about to say, "I wanted to let them know how thankful I was for them letting me in like I was their own son, so, I planned a dinner... and I, um..." he rubbed the back of his neck, "I kinda told them you were my date."

I sighed, holding the bridge of my nose between my fingers. Sure, I was shocked, but I also remembered who I was talking to, so it wasn't as large as a surprise.

"Why in the world would you tell them that?" I scolded.

"Because I think it should be true." Connor purred.

I rolled my eyes. "Pass. Post the photo if you'd like, and take my phone." I began to pick up my book and continue to read before a hand took it from me, I sent a glare in Connor's direction.

"Oh, come on, Rae, just pretend to be my date if you have to, please!" He pleaded.

I let out a sigh in defeat, seeing that it was obvious I wasn't going to get out of this any time soon. "Fine."

Connor's usual childish grin returned as he began to happily walk away, returning my book to me. "Great! Be ready by 6, babe!"

I cringed at the name, but I couldn't help but admit this dinner is a very kind and humble gesture to his semi-adoptive parents. I had never thought to see Connor this way, honestly. It was a nice side of him to see.

I grabbed my discarded book and began to resume my place in it when I heard the doors to the main area open again. This time, it was Damian, who had seemingly just finished his usual training session, judging by the sweat on his face and the water bottle in hand.

"Superboy seems to be somehow more unbearable than usual today," Damian commented once he had noticed my presence, "as I was leaving the training area, he had this stupid smile on his face as if he had just won all the wealth in the world."

Damian came and sat next to me as I chuckled slightly, setting my book aside, "Well, that's probably because of this stupid favor I'm forced to make for him."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Favor?" His voice laced slightly with anger. I couldn't understand the reasoning behind the sudden temper, but I decided to ignore it.

"To make a semi-long story short, Connor wanted to have dinner with Jon and Martha Kent as a thank you for their kindness towards him this past year, and..." I let out a long sigh, "and I am his date."

Damian's eyes widened for a moment before returning to normal. I could feel his aura shift from it's usual state to something more mellow and... sad? Surely he wasn't actually upset by this, I must be going insane.

"I see," He said plainly, "I hope you enjoy yourself, then." His response came out slow and calculated, and it didn't match the emotion his inner self was feeling. Maybe he had forgotten I was an empath. Either way, my abilities have often made him out to be a bad liar, even though I rarely call him out on it to save the drama. I was about to ask him what was wrong when he walked away without a second glance, his body tense, and his head lowered.

The evening came and went. Jonathan and Martha Kent were two of the kindest souls I have ever laid eyes on, I couldn't help but smile in their presence. Though, it was strange to pretend to be interested in Connor, especially when the question 'is this your girlfriend' came up. But, I will admit, I enjoyed myself. I never thought I'd see the day I actually enjoy Connor's company as much as I had tonight, but I suppose even the impossible can happen.

We flew home in silence for a moment before Connor began to speak.

"So... that wasn't too bad, right?" He asked shyly.

I smiled. "No, no it wasn't, I really enjoyed myself."

He let out a breath. "Good, good. Remind me when we land I'll give..."

I looked next to me to see Connor was no longer flying beside me. He had stopped to look at the night sky. Dozens of stars danced and winced at the world below. This high above ground, you could see all the colors the stars had to share. Some green, some blue, white, yellow, and so on. It truly made the night sky a beautiful sight.

Connor let out another sigh. "This is just perfect, y'know? Is this Heaven? 'Cause it feels like Heaven."

I giggled playfully. "I suppose with me here it would make it more like Hell."

He let out a laugh. "Oh, so the 'daughter of darkness' does have a sense of humor. I'm shocked."

I rolled my eyes. "And it is a real shame nobody asked for that opinion." This earned us a shared laugh.

"Listen, Rae..." Connor's voice suddenly became serious, "before we actually head back, there's something I need to tell you..."

I turned my body to face him, giving him a worried expression. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, nothing wrong per se, it's just... the real reason I made you come to this dinner was for you to see that I, um... well I actually have a bit of a crush on ya, babe. I-I mean, I know I flirt around and stuff but there's just somethin' about you..."

I huffed a smile, attempting to lighten his nervousness. "Crushing hard I see..."

"You have no idea... it's just weird, you see. 'Cause, and I mean no offense, honestly, but you're not usually my type to go for a serious relationship. Our personalities are obviously a little more than opposite, but that somehow makes my feelings stronger, I guess..."

I let out a laugh, "Trust me, I'm shy and antisocial at first, but I feel as though I do the stupidest things when I'm around someone I'm comfortable with, I just try to contain it as best as possible for... reasons..."

"In any case..." he grabbed my hand, "I just want it to be you and me against the world, babe. So, do you... maybe, wanna grab a coffee sometime? Y'know... have a real date?"

I let out a sigh, releasing his hand and flowing away from him slightly. "I would, but there are other factors in the way. The first one being... well, there's no easy way to say this without hurting your feelings... I have feelings for someone else."

"But let me ask you this beautiful: do you think you have a chance with me?" Connor looked at me with determined eyes.

"Honestly, Connor, with how you've been acting lately... I do see a relationship with you working... sure you can be annoying and flirty but looking past that side of you, you're very caring and sweet." I smiled.

"Well, then my advice to you is this, Rae: if you love two people at the same time, choose the second because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn't have fallen for the second."

I let out a small groan, putting my head between my hands. "That's the thing, Connor. While I am starting to develop some sort of feelings towards you... I don't necessarily love you. And this person... I definitely love..." I turned to face Connor once more, "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression on that regard... but that's not the only factor. The factor of all factors... the reason I can't pursue a relationship with either of you, is who I am. My powers, while can be a blessing and a curse, are too powerful to not be handled with delicately. They are fueled by my emotions... and if I happen to feel too much--"

"Boom..." Connor finished sadly, "Look, I understand, Rae. It's just... are you doing this for the protection of me and this mystery guy, or for yourself? Is this something that you want to do? Because the way I see it, if you really love this guy, you'll make the sacrifice for him."

Connor reached into his pocket, pulled out my phone, and deleted the picture before returning it to me.

"Just... think about it, alright?" Connor said, beginning to fly away from me. "I'll meet you back at the tower..."

I watched as his figure disappeared from my eyesight before heading off myself. I felt guilty. I hurt Connor, I know I did, and I couldn't help but feel bad about it. He didn't deserve it... he just wants love, too... though, I couldn't help but wonder if he were right about me having to make the sacrifice for Damian. Though, I decided I shouldn't think about it now, and began focusing on making my way home.

When I had arrived back at the tower, it was late at night. Damian seemed to had just returned from his usual nightly patrol around Jump City. He was still in uniform, mask, and everything. He sat on the couch as if he were waiting on my arrival like an angered parent who just caught their child sneaking back into the house. Though, essentially, that was what I was doing. Still, it didn't explain his angered expression.

"What's the matter with you?" I asked quietly, afraid to wake anyone nearby.

"You and Kent seemed to be rather close this evening. Anything you care to share?" He raised an eyebrow through his mask.

"The better question is why the hell where are you stalking us? Wait, how did you even stalk us? Connor would've heard your heartbeat." I furrowed my eyes at him.

He matched my expression. "I kept my distance for that same reason."

His response only really ticked me off more, but I decided it would be better to keep my cool and answer his question. "No, Damian, I have nothing to share with you."

Silence filled the room for a moment before Damian seemed to finally snap.

"Why the hell would you go through with his nonsense, Raven?!" He yelled, standing from his seat and turning his whole body in my direction.

I remained blank-faced, nonetheless. "It's not like he would leave me alone until I agreed anyway, after all, it's people like him that deserve a high five with a chair... but maybe I just wanted to go with him, since when is that such a crime?"

"It is when you don't even like him!"

"Could you refrain from yelling, people are trying to sleep, you know."

"I'm not yelling, I'm discussing with you!"

"Yeah, with a loud voice. That means your yelling... oh, for the love of--just tell me what your problem is, Damian?" I said, putting a hand on my hip.

He lowered his tone. "Nothing's wrong."

"Obviously there is or else you wouldn't have followed us, and you wouldn't be freaking out the way you are."

He let out a loud groan, grabbing strains of hair between his fingers. He paced the room like this for a moment before dramatically bringing his hands down and yelling, "I really like you!" His eyes widened in what seemed to be shocked at himself and his own words then, "Um... I didn't mean to blurt it out like that."

I looked at him with my own sense of shock. "There's no way that's true, Damian." I awkwardly let out a laugh.

Damian sighed and walked up to me, his eyes softened. "No, no, it's true. I've loved you ever since I got to know you, I just hadn't fully realized or accepted it until recently--and even if you don't feel the same, I'm willing to accept that, too. But the truth is, I think about you all the time, and I have these feelings that I still don't quite understand about you, it's freaking annoying, to say the least."

I smirked. "Well, I'd hate to be such an annoyance to you, Damian."

He rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be sarcastic about it."

I shrugged. "It's recently kind of my thing."

He closed his eyes tight and sighed out a loud 'anyways' before opening his eyes back to their soft state. "I'm obviously not the person you want in your life... but you should know I'll still kill him if he hurts you."

"Yes, you are!" I assured him quickly before he could walk off. "When I was with Connor earlier, I admit, I had a good time, and I got the privilege to see a side of him I never see... but when he admitted his own feelings to me, I turned him down because I simply don't love him, but I do love you."

Damian smiled. It was then I realized how much his aura made sense. He was conflicted over his feelings, and now that he's not? It glows and shines again like nothing ever happened.

He closed his eyes and leaned. I panicked and backed away from him. "Which leads me to the next reason I turned him down... and will more likely be the reason I turn you down: my powers, my abilities... they're uncontrollable if I feel too much. I've been forced to live a life of mellowness all my life, and to suddenly change that now for love? An emotion I still don't quite understand? It's too risky... and I'd never forgive myself if I accidentally hurt you or anyone else with my own emotions."

"Raven," Damain came at me with a soft, reassuring tone, "you tell me you don't understand the feeling, but neither do I. We both need to figure things out for ourselves and who better to do it with than with ourselves. I don't know much about love, or romance, but I do know, from both watching Grayson and my own mother flaunt over my father, that it does demand sacrifices and risks."

It was then I had remembered what Connor told me before he left: "... are you doing this for the protection of me and this mystery guy, or for yourself?"

Both, I decided. I don't want either of them to get hurt because of me, but it's my own fears that cause this want to protect them. Fears of what could happen to me, and my team.

"Is this something that you want to do?"

No, absolutely not. I want to love, I want to feel love and to be in love.

"Because the way I see it, if you really love this guy, you'll make the sacrifice for him."

And so I will, Connor. Thank you.

I looked at Damian once more with a small smile creeping on my face. "Alright, Damian. Let's take a risk."

Damian smiled a rare, almost goofy smile. "Well, if that's the case, I should court you formally:" he cleared his throat, "Do you want to--I mean if you're not busy... go get lunch tomorrow? Or even just coffee this morning, if you want, or--"

I placed a hand over his mouth. "There's no need for courting, but your answer is still a yes," I removed my hand, "and I have a feeling we should kiss now."

And, of course, that's exactly what we did. A few household items began to float above their original place, but we didn't care. In the end, it was an ideal night.

_____________________________________

So I know that this was more Conrae than it was Damirae but whateves I really liked writing this one.

Also sorry for the late updates. For some reason, my Wattpad decided it just wasn't gonna let me write for a few days and I felt like it wasn't fair to post on here and not there. Anyways, just got it working again so we'll see how long this lasts I guess.🤷🏻‍♀️

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