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mickandmusings · 5 months ago

Text

anticipation

pairing: indiana jones x f!reader

word count: 1.7k

summary: indy and y/n, history professors and close friends, are sent out on the hunt for an ancient gold amulet somewhere near cairo. hitting a stroke of luck, they find all the clues leading to the prize inside a cave, making indy's usual grumpy demeanor turn soft. however, as night falls on the desert, the pair find themselves taking shelter from a sandstorm in the cave, where they realize that the real prize was never any artifact.

warnings: fluffy, slight age gap (idk I imagined the reader to be at least like five or six years younger than Indy??) indy's typically gruff attitude (and gooey middle), clumsy reader, author loves history but isn't as well versed in ancient history so bear with inaccuracy

"Sweetheart, what the hell're you doing?" Indy's voice resounded through the empty cave both he and Y/N were walking in. Well, were walking in, til his partner stopped and dropped to the floor, her lantern close to the wall.

"Indy, come look, there's markings," Y/N's reply was smart, though she stumbled on a loose rock as she crouched down, nearly toppling over, but gained her balance and smiled at Indy. "I didn't fall that time!"

Indiana huffed out a small chuckle as he walked over to look at her discovery. After the past few years of bringing Y/N along, he'd grown used to her clumsy nature, spending most of his time helping her off of sandy ground or helping her limp along on a twisted ankle from a particularly nasty fall. If it were anyone else, Indy would grumble and leave them behind, but Y/N was the exception to nearly every one of Indiana's rules.

"Smart girl," Indy's voice echoed as his hands lightly brushed against the wall. Y/N felt her face fill with a red blush at Indy's compliment, even if he didn't mean it the way she wanted him to. Y/N's growing crush on her older coworker had started the moment she'd moved into the classroom across the hall from him. She had been intimidated at first, being the only female professor in the history hall. She had expected Dr. Jones to be just as avoidant of her as the others, but he had been the opposite. He had been dapper in his neat suit and bowtie, his studious glasses making him appear approachable. He had smiled and introduced himself, and the rest had been history-literally. The two would wave at each other down the hallway, swap conversation between classes and at lunch, and share books back and forth. Their at-work talks led to Indy inviting her to dinner (as friends, of course) and both of them grading papers in Indy's living room. After a year or so working side by side, Indy quickly realized that Y/N had an appetite for adventure, just like him. He'd invited her on a small dig that summer, and she'd been his right-hand ever since. Their easy friendship had quickly become the talk of the college, by teachers and students alike. Rumors floated through the air, talks of affairs and secret relationships, but none of them were true. Indy and Y/N were nothing more than friends and coworkers, as much as both parties wished they were more.

"Are those the ones you were looking for? The ones from the book?" Y/N's voice cut through Indiana's focus. Indiana's hazel eyes looked into hers, his heart skipping a beat. Her optimistic face warmed his heart. Despite all of the hell the girl had gone through on adventures with him, she still got excited when he brought her along on another.

"Yeah, yeah they are." Indy pulled the aged paper from his pocket, unfolded it and held it against the wall-the two were a perfect match. "We're in the right place, doll, just gotta find that damn amulet."

For the rest of daylight, Y/N and Indy move quickly through the dark cave, most times in tight quarters with one another. Indy is secretly in agony: every brush of her hand against his own, or his front pressed against her back in particularly small spaces sets his skin ablaze, and when her eyes light up at her findings or a narrow escape? Indy all but pulls her in for a heated kiss. The duo makes great time finding the amulet and pulling themselves back out, all limbs intact with minimal cuts and bruises, and Indy is grinning as the jewel shines in Y/N's hand. His shirt is ripped and there's a cut that needs cleaning across his neck, but his demeanor is spirited. He slings an arm around Y/N, making her heart skip a beat.

"Can't believe we made it out of that one, huh, sweetheart?" His voice is laced with a laugh, his other hand holding out the lantern that lights their way out. It's drawing towards sundown, and Indy and Y/N are quickly making their way towards the mouth of the cave they've been in for a number of hours.

"I wouldn't have made it out if it weren't for you, Jones. When I fell through that last trap door, I thought I was done." Y/N sighs when she catches a glimpse of the opening of the cave, ready to curl back into the bed she shared with Indy at Sallah's. Her muscles were aching, and she longed for a shower and a good night's sleep before their journey back home tomorrow. As they got closer to the front of the cave, Y/N's good mood deflated. She peered out the opening from a few feet distance.

"Indy, there's no way we're getting out of here. That sandstorm could take down a building, we won't last ten minutes."

Indiana stands behind her, peering over her head to look out the opening. He, too, sighed and let out a deep exhale, his hazel eyes darting across at the scene.

"Yeah, you're right. We'll have to anchor here 'til it passes."

Y/N sighs, dropping onto the cave floor and plopping against the wall. Indy watches her movements-he could tell she was tired, her body aching.

"You alright, Y/N/N?"

Y/N cuts her eyes up to Indy's, sympathy pooling in his irises.

"M'fine, just tired. Dreaming of a shower and our bed back at Sallah's if I'm honest."

Indy plops down next to her, planting their lantern on the ground in front of them.

"God, me too, sweetheart. Starting to think I'm getting too old for all of this."

Y/N rolls her eyes and lets out a chuckle as she leans her head on Indy's shoulder, feeling much more comfortable with Indiana's protection over her. Silence fell amongst the pair, and Y/N felt her eyes droop. She quickly popped them back open, knowing that she probably shouldn't be sleeping in a cave such as this one. Indy catches her tired actions and pulls her into his arms, making a blush appear on Y/N's face. She looks up at him with a face of slight confusion.

"Sleep, I'll keep watch."

Any other time, Y/N would have protested, arguing that she shouldn't let her guard down, that danger could still lurk in every corner. Today, however, she was too tired to even form a rebuttal, and let her eyes close as Indy's warmth lulled her to sleep. Indy sat leisurely, looking out the mouth of the cave, hoping that the sand storm would quickly dissipate, but his longing was in vain, it only seemed to rage. He, too, found himself dozing off, his mind only comprehending the sound of Y/N's deep breaths. He lifted the hat from his head onto the top of his face to block the light from their lantern, and fell fast asleep.

Neither of the pair woke for several hours, even when the sandstorm had passed, which worried Sallah. He worried his dear friends were stuck in a cave somewhere, or had been captured by their enemies. When he finally stumbled through the opening of the dark cave and saw the sleeping figures of Indy and Y/N, he let out a boisterous laugh that echoed off the walls. It startled both halves of the couple, Y/N jumping in Indy's arms as Indy's arms covered her protectively. Even as the couple registered their friend's presence, Indy's arms never let go of Y/N. He helped her stand and got them both out of the cave, following Sallah back home.

Back at Sallah's, Indy lets Y/N have the first go of the shower, leading to light teasing from Sallah and his wife. Both of them were aware of Indiana's feelings toward his fellow professor, and often poked fun at him because of it. When Y/N returned from her shower to their shared bedroom, hair still wet and dressed in one of Indiana's oversized button-downs, Indiana felt his heart stop. There was no way he could lie leisurely next to her without his feelings rising to the surface. She tossed her towel into a nearby basket, digging through her duffel bag for her hairbrush. As she moved across the room, she could feel Indiana's eyes on her, causing her face to bloom in a deep blush.

"I can feel you watching me, Indy. Is something wrong?"

Indiana shook his head, ditching his dingy hat onto a nearby table as he ran a hand through his hair. His throat felt dry, and Indiana became unnaturally nervous.

"Uh, no, just-shirt looks good on you."

Y/N blushes further, the brush in her hair stopping momentarily. She looks up at Indy, his hazel eyes warm, a small, albeit nervous, smile flashing across his face.

"Thanks. For the compliment, and letting me borrow it," she smiles, glancing over at him again. Her eyes catch the line of red under his chin and she remembers the deep cut he'd sustained. "That cut, on your neck, did you patch it? It's deep, Indy."

"Oh, no, kind of forgot about it."

Y/N shakes her head, grabbing the few first aid items she'd brought along from her bag. She motioned for Indy to sit on the chair in the corner of the room as she came close, looking into his eyes as she began to clean his cut. Indy's hands came to rest on her waist, an action that had Y/N's mind blanking, her hands still as she simply stared down at him. Neither of them said a word, but Indiana stood from his seat, his hands resting on either side of her face. The two hovered in one another's space, Y/N waiting in anticipation.

"Are you gonna kiss me or not, Jones?" Y/N whispered with a sly grin. Indy shook his head and finally connected their lips, melting into a heated kiss. Her hands came to his hair, pulling him closer, as his hands fell dangerously low on her back. Indy pulls away, looking at Y/N with a knowing look. His nose brushes against hers, his lips almost grazing her skin as he speaks.

"Did you offer to patch me up so you could seduce me, Y/N/N?"

Y/N chuckles, chastely kissing his lips.

"Hm, maybe," she smiles a wide smile up at Indy, who lets out a breathy chuckle of his own, pulling her closer by her hips. He places another smothering kiss on her lips, followed by a sly smirk as he speaks.

"Smart girl."

#indiana jones x reader #indiana jones #request

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wild-typo-turtle · 1 month ago

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Threads - Part 1

Explicit (slow burn, 18+ only) - Rings of Power - Gil-galad x OFC (Elf)

Includes S2E8 of Rings of Power - spoilers ahoy!

Gil-galad had only taken a handful of steps when his gaze passed over yet another collapsed building. From the looks of things, it had once been an open, airy shop that had faced directly into the plaza. The roof had caved in, creating dusty shadows, and even his keen eyes might have missed the slumped figure had he not heard the tiny whimper from the darkness.

Eregion has been destroyed; Sauron is gone. And yet, the sun still shines, as the ruined city holds the last thing that High King Gil-galad had ever expected to find.

Themes: #Idiots in love, #love at first sight, #soulmates, #smut with feelings, #fix-it, #everybody lives

Content Warnings: Explicit content eventually (slow burn), canon-typical violence

Credits: The lullaby Gil-galad sings is an original Quenya song by Forest Elves and can be found here. Sindarin phrases referenced from RealElvish.net.

A/N: I was not originally going to publish this AT ALL, but hey - it's going to be a long time till S3. I'm mostly sticking to ROP lore; other lore used when it's convenient. Beta-read by the amazing @stellar-solar-flare. This story is an original work of fanfiction; I do not own any canon characters and I am definitely not making any money on this (but if someone wants to pay me to write fanfic, LET'S TALK). No LLM/AI was used in any aspect of the creation of this work.

This is a WIP and I don't know how long it will be, but I'm having fun with it, so thanks for coming along for the ride.

Part 1

Little was left of the great realm of Eregion.

As he walked, the High King Ereinion Gil-galad grieved for the beauty of the city that had been destroyed. A few lonely buildings were still half-standing, but they were barely more than a few stones leaning atop one another; a piece of a window arch here, a twisted metal spire there. Personal effects that caused his heart to jerk each time he saw them: singed clothing, shattered works of art, a child’s doll torn to pieces.

And the library of Celebrimbor, piled at the center of the plaza. It was still smoking, even though the fire had been put out, and Elrond was kneeling next to it, tears running down his face as he sorted through the charred fragments. There was a tiny stack next to him: a few lightly-singed books and scrolls that had been toward the center of the heap, protected from burning by their brethren. But it was pitifully small, and he felt like weeping along with Elrond, seeing the hundreds of years of knowledge that had been lost.

Of Celebrimbor himself, Gil-galad could not bear to think. Not yet.

He left Elrond to it and continued onward. The wound he had taken in his leg was well on its way to healing, but the muscles still ached, and he was content to keep his pace slow. He leaned on Aeglos for support, and it also helped that he was interrupted every few moments by a steady stream of those coming to him for reports and orders; the searchers, made up mainly of those few survivors from the Lindon forces, were combing through the shattered homes and shops for anyone who might have lived. Their efforts were seldom yielding fruit, but they could not abandon all hope, especially in the face of so much loss.

He had only taken a handful of steps when his gaze passed over yet another collapsed building. From the looks of things, it had once been an open, airy shop that had faced directly into the plaza. The roof had caved in, creating dusty shadows, and even his keen eyes might have missed the slumped figure had he not heard the tiny whimper from the darkness.

He turned swiftly, looking back to Elrond behind him for confirmation that he hadn't been mistaken, and he got it - the herald was alert, his head swiveling towards the building as he slowly rose to his feet. There was something strange about the sound; hearing it had reduced the lingering pain in Gil-galad’s leg to a background throb, buried beneath the desire to find the source of that small cry, to relieve the suffering of whoever had emitted it.

They hurried, as much as he could, and he saw her as he drew closer. She was curled against one of the walls, huddled tightly into herself, and her face was a mass of grime and blood. Gil-galad dropped to his knees instantly, his leg no longer of the slightest concern, and he peered at her through the gloom. “Lady?”

A soft mutter was his only answer, but she uncurled herself slightly. Even in the dim light, he could make out that her tangled hair was a rich chestnut and her ruined dress had once been a deep forest green.

And then her eyes opened, and he lost himself.

Ice blue, in a face that would be the color and hue of fresh cream when it was clean. But not cold, frozen blue - crystalline and pure, like a drink of fresh rainwater from when the Elves had first been awakened near Cuiviénen. Eyes that promised peace, and healing, and rest - except they were glazed with pain, and it obviously took effort for her to focus on him.

“High King,” she muttered. Her voice was rough and tired. “I am sorry - please forgive me, I - “

With horror, he saw that she was struggling to rise. Her left arm was cradled against her body, and he saw - with a wave of fresh alarm - that a piece of twisted metal had embedded itself in her forearm and had pierced straight through. The arm of her dress was bloodstained and wet, and as she moved, he saw that the blood had dripped down to pool on the fabric of her skirt.

“Hush,” he said swiftly, reaching out and gently pressing on her uninjured shoulder. “Hush. Do not move, you are safe.”

Even the light touch subdued her; she sank back against the wall, her eyes fluttering closed. A great beast came to life inside him, roaring with anger at her state, and he turned to Elrond, who stood hovering behind him.

“Why has no one seen to her?” he bit out. “Do we not have healers here?”

“We do, High King,” Elrond said quickly. “I will summon one. The searchers must have missed her.”

He spoke no more, but hurried off, and Gil-galad turned back to the injured woman. His heart had stopped at the sight of the metal, fearful that it would be - like Galadriel’s injury - beyond all but the greatest power to heal. But he could see the wound well enough through the tear in her sleeve; there was no corruption that he could feel from either wound or metal, naught but torn flesh and blood.

“Elrond is fetching help,” he murmured soothingly. “What is your name, lady?”

“Linnea,” she whispered. “I was - I am a weaver…”

Even through the blood and the swelling, he could observe that her hands were elegant and fine. The wound was alarming, but did not appear to be anything that an elf could not heal from; she would not lose her craft in addition to her home.

“Was this your workshop?”

It was a foolish question for the moment, but he wanted to try and distract her from the pain. Where was Elrond with that healer? They had brought several with them from the valley to the north, where the rest of the survivors were gathering. Surely there was one close.

She lifted her head again and looked at him, and her crystalline eyes brimmed over with tears. They cut clean tracks through the dirt covering her face and dripped off her jaw - and his hand reached out of its own accord, before he could even think or decide, and he cupped her cheek in his hand and gently wiped the tears.

And he didn’t take his hand away when it was done.

The skin beneath his palm, even covered in filth, was the softest thing he had ever touched. Softer than his most comfortable robes; softer than the blankets on his bed. Soft, soft, soft, and he wanted to draw her close to him and wrap his arms around her, have her fed and her injuries tended and all else she might need. And preferably, without him having to leave her side or let her go.

“With my parents,” she whispered, answering his question.

He didn’t need to fill in the rest.

The building was almost completely destroyed. Even an Elf couldn’t withstand an entire wall falling on them. He wondered why they had still been here, why they hadn’t run - but perhaps there had been no time, or perhaps they’d thought they were safer sheltering in place and waiting out the siege. It didn’t matter, and it was the last thing he would have asked at that moment.

“High King.”

Elrond’s voice, coming over his shoulder. Gil-galad slowly removed his hand from Linnea’s face and turned, seeing a young man standing next to Elrond clutching a bag. He recognized the Elf from the Lindon supporting forces; Tinwendur was his name, young but competent. He nodded approval at Elrond’s choice.

“Sire, if I may,” the healer said softly. He was peering past Gil-galad, at Linnea, and Gil-galad understood that he was being gently urged to move out of the way.

The great beast growled, finding that idea very much not acceptable.

He settled for shuffling to the side, and Tinwendur quickly knelt beside him. “Her name is Linnea,” he said. “This was her weaving workshop.”

“Linnea. My name is Tinwendur. May I see your arm?”

And she looked to Gil-galad, uncertainty written on her face.

The urge to fold her against him roared up again, to protect her from anything, including someone who was just trying to help her but would likely cause her more pain. He stomped it down and offered her a gentle, encouraging smile.

“He is one of mine,” he murmured. “He is here to help.”

At that, she extended the arm willingly, letting Tinwendur take it. Tinwendur gently probed along the bones with careful, delicate fingers, eliciting more whimpers that Linnea tried to hide. To keep himself from throttling Tinwendur - which would have been exceedingly counterproductive - Gil-galad turned back to Elrond.

“I will stay until she is tended,” he said firmly.

“High King, there is - “

“I will stay.”

There is much to be done, had doubtlessly been what Elrond had been about to say. And he was not wrong. The choice of shield or sword was before him, now that Sauron had taken over Adar’s army of uruk; the decision to fall back and fortify their defenses, or to take the fight to their enemy. And Galadriel still lay unconscious; Nenya and Vilya had preserved her life, but he did not yet know what it might have cost.

But he could no more leave Linnea’s side than he could cease to breathe.

Elrond didn’t say any of the multitude of things that he could have. Instead, he simply dipped his head, murmured a soft High King, and left.

“The arm is not broken,” Tinwendur said. “Once the metal is removed, it will heal in a few days. I would suggest you allow me to do so now, as it will reduce your pain greatly.”

Once more she looked to him, those crystalline eyes seeking out his thoughts. In that moment Gil-galad would have bared his entire heart to her had she asked it; would have composed a poem on the spot if she had bid him to; would have single-handedly hauled the rocks free of the Glanduin and restored the river’s flow. Part of him understood what was happening, how it had been no accident that his ear had heard her cry for help - but the rest of him scarce believed it, that after so long…

He nodded at her. And the great beast purred in satisfaction as she extended her right hand to him, and he took it, closing it gently within his.

She shifted, getting herself as comfortable as she could against the wall. Tinwendur was busy removing supplies from his bag: bandages, a small knife, dried herbs, a jar of salve, flasks of water, a small bowl. He paused in his preparations, looking at Gil-galad hesitantly.

“Speak.”

“Sire, I - I carry athelas. If you would be willing…”

He needed to say no more. Gil-galad nodded, and without any further delay, the healer swiftly opened one of his bags of herbs. One of the flasks had contained hot water, and he set the herbs to steeping in the bowl. Finished with his preparations, he gently took hold of Linnea’s arm again, examining the metal carefully from all angles.

“It should draw out straight and true,” he pronounced. “I see no barbs that might tear the flesh further. Are you ready, my lady?”

“I am.”

It was going to hurt. He knew that Tinwendur was going to be as careful as possible, but it was still going to hurt. His jaw clenched, frustration building that he could do nothing to help her -

No. There was something.

“Linnea,” he said softly. “Keep your eyes on me.”

She turned, meeting his gaze, and a soft smile graced her lips. He squeezed her hand, and felt her squeeze back. Her eyes told him she was not wed, and of course she wasn't, not yet, because she'd been waiting for him and he for her and now neither of them would ever be alone, ever again.

But that would wait for later. For now, he had something to offer to take her mind off the pain, as small as it was, and he opened his mouth, and he began to sing softly.

“Ter i lóme, nai lye ómanya rahtuva,

Or i súre, nai lyenna órenya wilyuva...

Nai loruvalye,

Hendu holine...

Nai loruvalye,

Éli calime...

Á sasta ingalya or telcunyat, nanwie nauvar ilye olorilyar

Á pata ter fend' ex’ Ardanna,

Á papátu mina tyelepta cala

Nai loruvalye,

Hendu holine...

Nai loruvalye,

Éli calime...

Á sasta ingalya or telcunyat, nanwie nauvar ilye olorilyar.”

It was a lullaby his mother had sung to him when he was small, to soothe him when he was restless and could not sleep. And it had the effect he’d wanted it to have now: even as Tinwendur firmly and smoothly pulled the metal from her arm and she gasped, even as her blood welled up and pooled on the ground and Tinwendur worked to stanch the flow, her eyes were still on him, still listening to him sing.

The healer was quick. By the time Gil-galad had finished the song twice through, the wound was sewn shut and Linnea’s arm had been washed, and Tinwendur was handing him a clean cloth and the bowl of steeped athelas.

“All you need do is bathe the wounds again, sire,” he said softly. “The virtue of the herbs in a king’s hands will speed her healing.”

Tinwendur had sliced away the sleeve of her dress, drenched with blood and caked with grime. There was nothing in the way of his hand touching her soft skin - soft, soft, soft - and he tenderly cupped her elbow while he carefully ran the cloth over each side of her arm. And in a way it was a salve for him as well; he would never forget how helpless he had felt only a short time ago, bringing all of his might as High King to bear against Galadriel’s injury and failing. But this, he could do; the stitches still oozed blood, but Tinwendur had done good work, and it would stop soon.

Sweat had beaded Linnea’s forehead through the whole process, but she was looking much better now that the metal was out. As he finished, the healer wrapped the arm in a clean bandage, and offered them both a smile.

“You will mend soon, my lady,” he said. “Is there aught else I might do, High King?”

“No. You have my gratitude for your skill. Continue with those others who need it.”

“Sire.”

Tinwendur bowed, and departed. Gil-galad turned his attention back to Linnea; as much as he wanted to stay, he knew he could not remain for long, not when so many others needed him.

But she had needed him. And his place, as he had said to Elrond, was where the need was greatest.

“Can you stand?” he asked. “With my aid?”

She nodded. “I took no hurt to my legs. I am bruised, but that is all.”

He reached for Aeglos, realizing with a slight pang of guilt that he had carelessly let the spear clatter to the ground when he had dropped to Linnea's side. His leg was aching again, but he ignored it; once he was up, he leaned down and offered Linnea his hand, and helped her to her feet.

She hadn't missed his wince as he’d used the spear to stand, and those crystal eyes turned sharper. “You are injured,” she said softly. “The healer should have seen to you before you sent him away.”

“There are others more sorely in need of his aid than I,” he said, and despite everything, he very nearly laughed as she frowned at him. The Valar had indeed chosen well for him, when they had placed her in his path.

But instead of laughing, he dared to lift his hand, gently touching her cheek again with his fingertips. “I must go,” he murmured. “I would that I could stay.”

“Nonsense,” she smiled. Strength was coming back into her voice, and her color - even beneath the dirt - was improving. “You are the High King. You have already lingered beside one simple weaver for far too long.”

“The farthest thing from a simple weaver to me, my lady. As I think…you know?”

The last was surprisingly intent, and he couldn't help but add that tiny hint of a question at the end. He knew little of courtship, even after thousands of years - he thought she felt the same, but it was always possible he had been mistaken.

She smiled again. There was grief on her face, for her parents and for her city - but also a light in her eyes, not the light of the Trees but gentle, dappled light, like the light on the moss in the deep forests. And she leaned, just the slightest bit, into his hand, bringing his fingers more fully in contact with her face.

He wasn't mistaken.

“I think that we have much to discuss, my lord,” she whispered.

He could not have been more filled with joy if she'd just told him that Sauron had been expelled from Arda for good. The weight he carried of the decision before him; the grief for the city, for Celebrimbor, for the thousands of lives that had been lost - it was still there, but the burden was eased, as if by her mere presence she had taken part of it for him.

No, she was no simple weaver. She never had been.

He slowly released her face, but his boldness had not been exhausted; he reached down, taking her hand again. And the ease with which she gave it to him, the firmness of her grip, the lacing of her fingers with his, told him again that his heart had not been wrong when it had said yes, this is her.

“The survivors are gathering in a valley to the north,” he told her. “We return to Lindon soon. You will be safe there - if that is where you wish to go.”

He was on firmer ground now. He knew what his answer would have been had anyone proposed him going somewhere that she was not, and his certainty was rewarded with her nod. “I will see if there is anything to be saved here first.”

She looked over her shoulder sadly, her eyes sweeping over the ruins of the building. He could see the doubt on her face that it was anything but a futile effort, but he also understood that she had to try regardless. Hope is never mere, even when it is meager.

“I will send someone to help you,” he promised. “They will ensure you are cared for. And…once we return…”

He had managed to put himself back together after the battle, if only slightly. But once they returned to Lindon, he could have a real bath, and a good meal, and actually be in a proper state to begin that courtship. He had some idea of how to go about it; perhaps she could join him for that good meal, the first of many.

“There will be time,” he finished. “Once you are settled.”

He wanted to kiss her, as absurd as it was. But this was no place for that momentous step, and neither of them was in any shape to share it. Not with both their injuries, and not with the loss she'd endured, and not with his obligations as High King awaiting him. He could wait, and he could settle for lifting her hand and brushing the back with the lightest whisper of his lips.

And when he raised his head, that light in her eyes was shining bright.

“Do not make me wait too long, my lord.”

Continue to Part 2

#gil-galad #the rings of power #rings of power #fanfic #fanfiction #gil galad #fix it fic #fix it au #gil-galad x ofc #trop fanfiction

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sillylotrpolls · 3 months ago

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It's hard to tell, isn't it?

Per usual, the answer will be revealed after the poll concludes using the results tag. If you know the answer, please refrain from publicly crowing about your esoteric knowledge until after the poll ends.

#lotr #lord of the rings #merchandise #poll #polls

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sad-ghost-of-garbage · 4 months ago

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Nicknames with the Lost Boys

Affectionate and Goofy nicknames for and from the boys

Author: SadGhostofGarbage Warnings: this is a crackfic! It’s only semi serious. There is some NSFW headcannons so MDNI!

David:

David’s nicknames for reader: Kitten, Kitty, Kit Cat, Doll face, Beloved, and My Queen (Yes even as a male reader, David believes himself the King so naturally his partner is his other half despite gender. He regards his partner as the chess Queen to his King; here is a lil blurb of how I see the conversation going, the first time it happens.

Male reader x David: “Um David, why did you call me your Queen? I am a whole grown ass man?” “Beloved, you are the most important piece on my chess board, since I'm clearly the King, you are my other half.” The bastard has the audacity to say condescendingly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You do realize that means I should be protecting you right?” That wipes the smirk right off his face, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Absolutely not happening”. He says with teeth grit in a firm line. “You are not putting yourself in any danger ever.” “Then by chess standards that makes you the Queen”. It was your turn for the shit eating grin, the expression on his face was priceless. It is definitely one of your favorite ways to tease him from that moment on. If however it causes you discomfort he will refrain from using it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still tease him with it. You will be punished accordingly after every instance you jokingly call him “my Queen”, but teasing him is half the fun. Side note, Paul tries to help by suggesting you combine the two, “One of you can be, Quee-ing, and the other can be Ki-een. BOOM! Problem solved, you’re welcome!” Spoiler… It does not solve the problem.

Things that David secretly loves being called, its a “secret” because he “doesn’t do nicknames”: Handsome, Cowboy, My King, My one, My love, basically anything that has a possessive edge implying that David is readers everything (Daddy loves to be needed)

Things reader (and the boys) call him that he “hates”: Daviey (Paul’s go to mostly), Marko calls him Daddy as if he were confessing to a Catholic priest during confession; “Daddy I’ve been naughty” instead of “forgive me father for I have sinned”. Chaos ensues and you will catch David chasing Marko around the cave on multiple occasions for this very reason. David won’t admit out loud that he’s okay with his partner calling him Daddy but he does prefer Sir, but if it revs your engines then he will graciously allow you to call him Daddy. Moral of the story… David is a butthead.

Names David actually hates being called: Baby, And any nickname that is overly obnoxious like : Stud muffin, or Pookie.

Dwayne:

Dwayne’s nicknames for reader; Darling, Sweetheart, Baby/Babygirl/Babyboy (if it is Babyboy, just know Paul is jealous), Mama or Nobi for a non gendered version (of a parental name that both he and Laddie call a parental figure reader), Prince/Princess/Princex

Dwayne’s nicknames from the reader and the boys, they are all fair game for D-man: Papa, Big man, D, Snuggle bear, Big Cat, Baby Daddy

Nicknames that are affectionate when it comes from reader, and jokingly when coming from the boys: Gigantus, Tall Dark and Dracula, Skater boy, Dork

Paul:

Paul’s nicknames for Reader: Sugar, babe, bug, Beautiful/Handsome/Gorgeous, Hot Stuff, My cute lil capri sun! If you're still human. Bit will continue to call you that after you become a vamp as well, he just likes biting. (fun fact I looked up when capri-sun came out, the answer? 1969! its cannon!)

Paul’s nicknames from reader and the boys: Paulie, Puppy, Pretty boy, jellybelly~ Paul got high af and cried because his blood wasn’t jelly bean flavored after he ate 12 bags of them. “I wanna be a jellybean damn it” 😭 NSFW: I saw a post going around about sucking Paul’s dick and my brain went… ah a Paulie pop… and now it lives rent free in my head so have that too

Marko:

Marko’s nicknames for reader: Angel, Dove, Love, precious one, Sunshine, Tesoro / my treasure (if you headcannon him as an Italian, as many do 😉) the Juliet to his Romeo if you're a fem reader (until you point out that Juliet was like 13 and Romeo was 16. And comparing your love to that of children was not as romantic as he assumed it was. Those names quickly get abandoned)

Nicknames for Marko: Cassanova, Italian Stallion, Stud, Angel (the first time reader calls him angel you both argue over who gets to call the other angel, and it ends with an intervention from David. “You are both little devils, you brats!” you both continue to call each other angel, and David continues to call you both little devils.)

Nicknames that will get get you (or the boys) in trouble and not the good kind: Cherub, bird boy.

side note, I'd love to hear what nicknames you guys think the boys like being called and call their partners

Taglist: @ria-coolgirl, @britany1997, @henhouse-horrors. If you want added to my Lost Boys taglist lemme know!

#the lost boys #sgog #sgog writes #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #tlb david x reader #tlb paul x reader #tlb dwayne x reader #tlb marko x reader

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phoenixcatch7 · 1 year ago

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Kintsukuroi

'What if I put a clock pendulum in my torso' was the sort of question Bruce had come to expect when visiting Oracle.

"Pendulums are dependant on a stable base," he replied, because the last time he'd assumed they were being unserious Tim had tried to fit a chemistry test lab in his mouth and accidentally leaked the fumes through his mask.

"It'd be so aesthetic though," said Barbara, not looking up from the dozen screens she was surrounded by. "Listen. It would look so cool - Spoiler, robbery on fifth and main - Especially if I put a clock face over my heart."

"I thought you were trying to fit a super computer in it?"

"I was, but progress is slow. It's hard to fit it and enough padding to protect it plus leave enough room for ventilation. If I add the pendulum I might at least get inspiration." She gave a heavy sigh and pushed away from the desk, gliding in her chair to where her doll body was resting on a table, the glue separating the two halves of the smashed torso still glistening. Bruce followed, peering over her at the many scanners and wires hooked into it, flashing and beeping.

"Any luck?" he asked, and they both knew he wasn't talking about the computer anymore.

"Nothing."

He squeezed her shoulder, and she leant into it. They stayed there for a long moment.

"I just don't understand!" Barbara finally burst out, hands clenching on her chair arms. "I glued nearly every single piece back together! I made sure every splinter I could find went exactly where it should! I know the contract is still there. She's worked with more missing pieces before. But she's just not responding!"

"It's not you," Bruce soothed. "You've more than enough determination and strength to puppet, and we know the human body's state doesn't affect performance."

"That's the thing!" Barbara threw her hands up angrily, nearly smacking Bruce in the face. There was a chatter over comms, and both reached for their own. "One second," she said tightly, and wheeled back into the glow of the monitors. "Copy. BW, you're nearest? Thanks. Try and avoid the sniper this time. Wing, backup is in five."

She muted again and spun around, pinning Bruce with a heavy stare. "Is there anything, anything you can think of? We've - nothing I've tried has worked."

"Well...." He trailed off, one hand coming up to rub at the chin of his mask - a quiet night meant the opportunity to forgo the practical but muffling gas mask for his favoured plain black.

It was far from the first time a doll had been horrifically damaged. The incident with Bane came to mind - Batman had been in a very similar condition, body shorn clean in two and tossed to opposite corners. It was an awful memory, but the expression on Bane and the audience's faces as his bloodless body fell apart like a rotting tree trunk and then kept moving was a silver lining he'd always treasure.

But he'd been repaired and back on his feet in weeks, if bearing the incandescent fury of the doll for several more. It had been months for Barbara, and still nothing was happening.

"There's something we're missing, and I doubt it's on your side."

"I know THAT-"

"Listen," he demanded, and her jaw clicked shut mutinously. "There's something we're not seeing. Batgirl is in no shape to demand it herself, it seems. So its inaction is something we can't fully rely on."

"You've got the most experience with the dolls of all of us. Can you.. I don't know, sense anything?"

"Nothing more than the usual, with the Patriarch Doll, but we might get more if we return to the doll house -"

"No." Barbara interrupted again, but Bruce did not take offence. "She's not going anywhere. She doesn't want to head back to the cave."

Oh?

"She doesn't want to, or she doesn't care to?"

"I say she doesn't."

Interesting. This was likely a case of the doll exerting its will. The bats were well versed in avoiding the few lines their wooden bodies drew in the sand, treating them with the wary respect one would give a favorite blade or a highly trained attack dog. They could work together, share the highs and lows of life with them, but never get complacent. The dolls were forever a foreign, inhuman presence, and as with all wild creatures they would never be so arrogant as to assume full understanding. For Barbara to so strongly decide for the doll meant she was most likely not the only one deciding.

Which meant the solution would not be found in the cave.

"Perhaps there are upgrades she wishes to have?"

Oracle paused.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But there's practically a limitless amount of things I could do, and I wouldn't know where to start. And I could more easily do them when she's up and walking."

Not that then. If the doll wanted something to change but not receive upgrades or heal, than what?

... Not heal.

Batman hurried to the table. Oracle watched him with hawk eyes, but another call on the comms turned her away with a final warning glance.

Recovering every single splinter from a damaged wooden object and perfectly reattaching it was nigh impossible on a good day, never mind in the dead of night with a moving target. The dolls always returned to the cave to regenerate scratches and nicks they couldn't buff out, or accepted plaster to transmute with whatever supernatural power guided them.

The batgirl on the table, divested of all covering and armour, was still as chipped and scuffed as the day nightwing recovered last splinter.

The pieces fell into place.

"She doesn't want to be perfectly rebuilt," he realised. "She doesn't want the damage to disappear as it normally does... She wants it to remain visible. A different type of repair, then."

Oracle spun in her wheelchair to face him.

"Why?" she asked, something sharp in her eyes. Bruce chose his next words carefully.

"Perhaps she thinks such damage doesn't need to be hidden away," he said, slowly, and didn't comment when she turned away. Though she put on a strong face, and the doctors had recently released her full time, it would be a long time until the young hero was able to truly heal her mind.

"She doesn't need to do that for me. She's just causing me trouble."

"I don't think she is," he tried. "Dolls tend to reflect their puppeteer even after they accept us. You can't deny your trajectory has been changed."

They both sent a significant look to the enormous super computer taking up the wall.

"You've said you almost feel better able to protect Gotham now, with your reach and skills. Do you really feel that way?"

"I - I don't -" her mouth worked silently, and Bruce waited. "I mean I guess... But a part of me always assumed it'd be temporary, you know? Once I fixed batgirl.. It'd all return to normal." Her voice wobbled, and Bruce didn't hesitate to crouch before her, wrapping her in a long armed hug. She buried herself in his chest, regardless of the chilled metal.

"It's okay if you don't," he whispered into her hair, and held her as she shook. "I'm just throwing ideas around."

"I do though," she rasped. "I think I do feel that way. There's so much that can't be solved by violence, and it feels good to be out there but... I think I can help even more people, this way."

"That's good," he praised, "that's good. You can do whatever you set your mind to."

"You stole that from a parenting book verbatim."

"It's applicable to the current situation."

"Fine," she sighed, and pushed him away to roughly scrub at her eyes. "I'll give the doll another chance. Find some glitter glue or something, I don't know."

"Any materials you need will be provided," he promised. "I wouldn't recommend glitter glue or our usual tar."

He moved to pat her on the hair as the emotions of the moment faded, making sure to keep his unsheathed claws out of her hair.

"Once you fix her, though, I would recommend you puppet the doll during night hours still," he told her. "It wouldn't be good to put your body through twenty hour days."

"I've got a good system set up for now, but thank, B-man."

The computer dinged with another alert, and oracle spun to squint at it with a muffled curse, typing furiously. Batman escaped to the other side of the room, where the folders he'd originally come looking for lay. She waved, distracted, as he left, and although the doll could not smile, he could feel it on his face all the same.

@puppetmaster13u I summon thee dear mutual ^^

#I don't know which of us came up with the kintsukuroi idea but it worked brilliantly #Unexpected discussion of clinging to the idea of normality as something that can be returned to despite thinking you're okay with your #Life altering chronic condition diagnosis 🫠#Off screen nightwing is just not having a good time #I'm still testing out my characterisation of b but I'm pretty happy with him. Good dad b but also pre/no Ethiopia so he's healthier as it i #Oh btw the dolls don't have gender being inanimate the bats are anthropomorphising them #In the same way sailors call their boats she or my mum decided the roomba is a he #Some world building! I stuffed a lot in lol #I like the idea of the bats having different masks. Like the gas mask is for arkham breakouts or gas villains or ivy so it's the famous one #But they also use plain cloth masks or ceramic ones or decorative ones when the occasion calls. They've got scuba ones too #long post #batman #world building #worldbuilding #bruce wayne #possessed doll au #haunted doll #cryptid batman #cryptid batfam #batman au #dc oracle #barbara gordon #batgirl #I'm trying to keep the dolls as mindless but watchful as possible #Like they don't have opinions or ideas or anything. You could do literally whatever you wanted as long as you follow The Rules #I don't think the bats really know about the contracts. I think b has inferred something. But it's more trial and error #One idea I had is that the dolls are powered by the life force of past users mutated into... Whatever tf from all the curses.#So by entering the contract you lose a significant chunk of your ability to enter the afterlife.#Yes this would only be noticed by the jl going to the future and trying to find the souls of everyone or smth for whatever reason #And the bats don't have much of anything. Leading to the further impression that they aren't remotely human

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ambi-kiko · 1 year ago

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tma music tma music tma music

please reblog with your own! i need it (:

also im more than willing to elaborate on any of em, just ask! (i have much to yell about)

for bitchard, we have:

kiss me, son of god (they might be giants)

i'm gonna win (rob cantor)

blood & money (the orion experience, orion, linda XO)

ruler of everything (tally hall)

BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA (will wood)

community gardens (the scary jokes, louie zong)

the main character (will wood)

your body, my temple (will wood)

laplace's angel (hurt people? hurt people!) (will wood)

saint bernard (lincoln)

welcome to the internet (bo burnham)

all eyes on me (or3o)

my ordinary life (the living tombstone)

cabinet man (lemon demon)

peter x elias (for my frenchies out there <33)

marine marchande (les cowboys fringants)

ok dont judge me too much i had to have smth for them ((: plus its not that unrelated

next! martin

a better son/daughter (rilo kiley)

12 feet deep (the front bottoms)

things to do (alex g)

be nice to me (the front bottoms)

step on me (the cardigans)

heart for brains (roar)

mama (my chemical romance)

summer child (conan gray)

hello my old heart (the oh hellos)

i cant handle change (roar)

against the kitchen floor (will wood)

least favorite only child (leanna firestone)

sharpener (cavetown)

empty bed (cavetown)

life's a beach (bears in trees)

jmart ((:

no children (the mountain goats)

the moon will sing (the crane wives)

euthanasia (will wood)

as the world caves in (matt maltese)

the truth (the front bottoms)

balade à toronto (jean leloup)

doctor (jack stauber)

apocalypse (cigarettes after sex)

talk to you (ricky Montgomery)

cabo (ricky montgomery)

meteor shower (cavetown)

juliet (cavetown)

feel better (penelope scott)

would you be so kind (dodie)

two birds (regina spektor)

line without a hook (ricky Montgomery)

and jon, ofc <3 i rly dont have enough for him ):

body terror song (AJJ)

downhill (Lincoln)

montreal (penelope scott)

ramblings of a lunatic (bears in trees)

its called: freefall (rainbow kitten surprise)

chin music for the unsuspecting hero (foster the people)

love, me normally (will wood)

dinner is not over (jack stauber's micropop)

also melanie! dont have that many but she deserves the mention (:

saturn suv (fredo disco)

brave as a noun (AJJ)

tongues & teeth (the crane wives)

wreaking ball (mother mother)

we fell in love in october (girl in red)

and just random songs with tma vibes (other characters, ships, dread powers, etc)

underground (cody fry)

hand me my shovel, i'm going in! (will wood)

terry's taxidermy (teddy hyde)

cotard's solution (will wood and the tapeworms)

amnesia was her name (lemon demon)

memento mori: the most important thing in life is death (will wood)

skeleton appreciation day in vestal, n.y. (will wood)

icicles (the scary jokes)

puppet boy (devo)

oh ana (mother mother)

i dont smoke (mitski)

choke (I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME)

thermodynamic lawyer esq, G.F.D (will wood and the tapeworms)

sorry haha i fell asleep (egg)

despair (leo)

stuff is way (they might be giants)

baby teeth (baby bugs)

king park (la dispute)

i/me/myself (will wood)

dr. sunshine is dead (will wood and the tapeworms)

amygdala's rag doll (ghost and pals)

little pistol (mother mother)

burning pile (mother mother)

this is home (cavetown)

body (mother mother)

turn the lights off (tally hall)

like real people do (hozier)

im going insane

#long post #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #magnuspod #jon sims #jmart #martin blackwood #martin kartin blackwood #jonmartin #jonny sims #melanie king #elias bouchard #lonely eyes

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rate-every-bat · 11 months ago

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If you haven't done it already, you should rate the Hoary Bat 💞 They're my favourite and I would love to see your opinion on them

Absolutely, let's do it!

Today's Bat: Hoary Bat

The Hoary Bat has always put me in mind of a little powdered donut. There's an abandoned mining cave that's been turned into a museum and nature preserve in my area, and bat spotters frequently find these frosted babies hanging out there during the summer. I'd really love to spot one in person, but for now, I'll settle for this precious picture:

Environmental Impact: The Hoary Bat has an incredibly wide habitat range across North and Central America, even reaching as far as Hawaii. With such a wide range, it's no surprise that they've split into several subspecies (which is so, so cool). They migrate from north to south in the autumn, or hibernate for short bursts using a "butt blanket" and torpor state to withstand cooler temperatures. Interestingly, they predate several pest species, but have a relatively restricted diet compared to other North American insectivorous bats. These guys also catch rabies fairly frequently, which is another hit to their score here.

🦇🦇🦇/5

Beauty: Oh, these guys are angels. Their wide faces and perfectly round eyes make them look like Precious Moments dolls with wings. Their coats, multi-colored with a delicate white frost, are the peak of winter fashion. I can't think of a single thing that would make these guys more appealing... top marks!

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇/5

Power: Hoary Bats are largely solitary throughout the year. Upon mating in the autumn, the female retains sperm in her reproductive tract. She'll reserve it all winter, and come spring, she will fertilize her eggs and give birth by early summer. Delayed fertilization allows them to choose whether or not conditions are right to rear young, and controls for their generally lonesome nature. I first learned about this ability with bears, and I continue to find it fascinating. I will have to deduct points from the Power score, however, for their decidedly anti-clean-power stance: their leading cause of mortality is striking wind turbines.

🦇🦇🦇/5

Overall: This upcoming summer, hit your local mine. Maybe you'll find a Hoary Bat... or me, with a camera.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇/5

(Today's sources: Animal Diversity Web, Bat Conservation International)

(PS: I couldn't find a convenient spot to mention this, but the Hawaiian Hoary bat is actually endangered. They're the only remaining native land mammal in Hawaii according to the National Parks Service. BCI lists some conservational efforts, which I'd recommend reading up on and advocating for if you're able. Thank you!)

#rate every bat #bats #rating animals #wildlife #hoary bat #conservation #ask

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freckledfenrir · 2 months ago

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just a small sketch of Doll chilling in the crows nest with her parrot. The crows nest design is gonna stay how it is but I’m not sure how I’m gonna make the Jolly Roger look so for now it’s just generic pirate flag.

anyways while I’m here, here’s more info for this au. I’m like really bad at putting my thoughts into words so please bear with me.

Joker and the others decide to stop in a coast side town for more supplies before heading off to a new island to loot more buried treasure. Snake and Dagger decided to just walk around the island while the others got supplies and Snake spotted an old cave. They got curious and decided to go inside where they found Doll. It didn’t take long for them to figure out she was alone and decided to bring her back to Joker after spending a hour gaining her trust. After mulling it over with everyone else Joker decide to bring her back to the ship and let there on ship doctor look her over and make sure she was ok. Joker did spend a good few hours talking to Doll where he did confirm she was abandoned and living alone, after this he immediately decided he’d bring her along as he wasn’t gonna throw this poor girl back out into the wilderness especially after her telling him that it was her 16th birthday . Joker and the others after learning it was her birthday wanted to give her something to make her feel safe and cared for, the only problem is they just spent all there money on supplies. Noticing her ragged clothes Joker said he’d give her his old vest until they could buy her some gifts. Upon receiving the gift Doll ended up bursting into tears as it was the first time in ten years anyone has given her something and now she refuses to take the vest off.

Jumbo and Dagger spent a good few weeks teaching Doll hand to hand combat along with how to use swords and knives. She is a surprisingly quick learner and it only took her 4 weeks to become efficient enough with swords and knives to the point that everyone feels safe enough letting her wander off on her own when visiting towns. while Doll doesn’t engage in combat often she will jump in to defend her new family and friends if needed.

Doll is an extremely talented acrobat and because of this she’s a very viable asset to the team. Getting up to places that only Peter and Wendy typically could and being able to balance across fallen over trees and bridges with only a rope left handing with zero issues. She is even able to crawl up and down ropes without struggle, because of this she’s the one who typically fixes the mast and ropes that get tangled up on the ship.

The crows nest is Dolls favorite place on the ship spending most of her time relaxing with her parrot Annabel. Doll will always be looking out for islands while she’s up there or just anything of particular interest.

Doll spends also spends lots of time with Snake and loves to bound with all of his snakes. She’s the only one on the crew who feels comfortable picking up all of his snakes and letting them wrap around her. So Snake and Doll will talk a lot and spend lots of their free time together playing games or reading. Sometimes Doll will even yoink random snakes she finds and brings them back (much to Daggers dismay).

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jackiequick · 11 months ago

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7 times they were better parents to Tony than Howard was | Agent Carter Fanfic

~ In other words, Elizabeth Stark and Jason Underwood being an married couple for 5 minutes straight

Pairing: Jason Underwood & Elizabeth Stark

Character mentioned/included: Tony Stark, Howard Stark, Maria Stark, Edwin Jarvis & Ana Jarvis, Hank Pym, The Avengers & Young Avengers, Peggy Carter, Nick Fury, Alexander Pierce, Justin Hammer and etc

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe -> Agent Carter, Iron Man 1-3, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Avengers Age Of Ultron

Summary: Sometimes the best things in life happen when you least expect, such as becoming loving parental figures to a billionaire genius with a cheeky grin.

Note: Jason’s nickname is JJ and Elizabeth’s nickname is Liz

Ship Name: JALIZZY

Slight Warning: A bit of angst but mostly fluff

Click here for the latest fic featuring this family

Click here to see where our leading man fits in the Marvel Universe timeline

—————

Both were asleep in bed, when little 7 year old Tony walked into the bedroom and climbing into their bed.

Jason woke up first rubbing his eyes and sighed, "Bubba what you doing? We built you a new big boy bed last week.."

"Bad dream.." Said little Tony balling up his fist and getting under the covers, "..and Daddy is out."

"Oh right Momma visiting Aunt Peg for the week.."

"I'm sorry..c-can I stay?"

That moment Elizabeth woke up ruffling her nephew's bed head and yawned, "Sure, Bambino. But you wanna talk about the bad dream first?"

Tony looked down holding his teddy bear and mumbled, "I was in a dark and scary cave with a dragon..and I could not fight him, I was running but there no way to go.."

"Aww sweetie, look it's okay not every dream is gonna be a good one but you're okay. Everything is okay, you hear me?"

" I know..it's okay, b-but I was lost and scared..I did not save the princess..I fail.."

"Oh no sweetie, you didn't fail anyone. It was just a bad dream, there are no dragons here to hurt you."

"But the princess?"

"Maybe you will save her in the next dream."

Jason added with a tired smile, "Or maybe the princess already saved herself? Like auntie Lizzie or auntie Peg. And she's now waiting for you in the dream."

"Really?" Tony asked with a small smile.

"Yeah, sometimes it's the little prince that needs to go on journey to find the princess waiting for him in the end."

"Okay, I am ready to sleep now..and meet the princess."

"Out of curiosity, who was the princess?"

"Her name was Molly."

"Ohh nice name."

Elizabeth cut in with a chuckle, "Yeah very nice! Now we can please go to sleep and save the kingdom tonight in this dream?"

The boys nodded with a smile, cuddling up in bed with the lady of the house.

------

Elizabeth blowing raspberries on Tony's tummy as his giggles filled up the house with laughter. Jason was building up rocking chair in the living room and walked into the kitchen.

Jarvis was making lunch for them.

"Hey babe." He said with a smile, kissing her forehead then gave his nephew one on the cheek.

"Hi dear." She replied with a smile bouncing their nephew in her lap who giggled brightly.

It was a running gag but a sweet one calling each other pet names since the day they met. It went beyond, just them calling each other nicknames Jason called Jarvis's wife, Ana, honey and doll all the time as a term of endearment.

"JJ!" Tony yelled in glee with a toothy grin, as both adults looked their eyes at his silliness.

Something that would carry on once Tony is older is that silly toothy grin of his, no matter what the situation is. Especially his giggles.

Jarvis set the table for them, as Jason rushed over to help him and cutting Elizabeth's food into smaller sizes. Ana joined them soon enough watching all of this in curiosity. However, it confused the British man, once they all sat down to eat.

"Why does Jason need to cut your food, Miss Stark?" Jarvis asked them as he ate.

"Just watch, dear." Ana added, curious knowing she will get an answer.

With Tony's booster seat resting between them. Ana grabs a glass of wine and sits next to her husband. Looking at the kid who are begin to eat but what caught Jarvis's eye was Tony’s other hand gripping Elizabeth’s left hand in a tight grip.

"Aww how adorable." Ana said with a smile eating her chicken.

"It is indeed but what exactly is happening? I might need an explanation." Jarvis questioned with a smile.

"Tony had this new habit where he only can eat if he holds Elizabeth or Maria’s hand. It started a few days ago." Jason explained chuckling as he ate.

"I don't mind it. It keeps him relaxed and allows me to make sure he's doing alright while eating." Elizabeth replied eating with her other hand.

"What happens if you remove your hand?" Ana asked, in love with the way Tony's happily eating.

Elizabeth lets go of Tony's hand and all of them looking at the youngest Stark who started fusing while chewing a piece of meat, one hand starts waving asking for his auntie’s hand.

Elizabeth just let Tony wrap his fingers with her own in the meantime as Ana chuckled and Jarvis snorted with a smile.

"Howard tried it yesterday, removing Tony's hand away from Maria and he just cried. Not pretty." Jason added chuckling.

"It was hilarious!" Elizabeth told them as she snickered, "My brother promised to let him sleep with their room last night, if he stopped. Howard was third wheeling."

------

“Will you please go to sleep now? You're a growing boy, come on please do it Uncle JJ.” Jason sighed and rubbed his own face with his palm.

“No way.” Tony runs “I wan Liz…”

“I give up.” Jason buried his face in the kid’s bed

Jason finally gets up and walks to the living room where his best girl is reading something from her notebook. Watching Tony just dive to her lap startling the woman.

“What the-?” Elizabeth jumped out of reflex “I-shouldn’t you be in bed and counting sheep?”

“I’m not sleepy.” Tony shakes his head.

“Well, I am.” Jason sighed and sat next to Elizabeth looking into her eyes hoping she understood the silent help signal, "No more kids, one is enough.."

That was when Hank Pym called as Elizabeth put him on the speaker and started talking with him as she tried to put her kid to sleep.

"Lizzie is this a bad time?" Hank asked while on the phone, hearing Tony mumbling in the background and Jason's voice muttering something.

"No, Hankie it's fine. Someone's allergic to sleep just like his father, I'll pay you 500 bucks if you can get him to sleep." Elizabeth replied jokingly.

"I'll see what I can do. Do you remember the equation use for invention you and Howard were making?"

"Actually, yeah I do. The one for that android prototype? Yeah I do."

"Good because I thinking we can use for this new formula I was creating."

Both scientists go to work, talking with the equipment and possible new investments they would make that month to present to the others. Laughing and gushing about their week as well.

Jason was napping when he was accidentally smack on the shoulder due to Elizabeth's excitement how on they can improve the formula for the shrink ray.

"Ow!" He shouted softly, being woken up.

"Oh, sorry JJ. I was just, you know." She replied trying to explain with a chuckle.

"I know let me take this little guy off your hands."

"Alright."

Both expected to find Tony still awake on his auntie's lap but he nodding off as they spoke. They chuckled quietly thanking Hank's believing their science talk tired him out or something.

He picked him up as Tony's head rested on his shoulder, his eyes were trying to stay open as he mumbled, "I'm not tired...no sleepy.."

"Oh yes you are, Bubba. Very sleepy." Jason said with a soft chuckle with sighed, "Say night night."

Elizabeth stood up cupping his little face mumbling sweet nothing into his ears as Tony hummed a soft, "..night night."

"Night, my little star." She replied with a soft smile, deciding to help tuck him in.

They tucked in their little boy, turning on the recording on Maria Stark's gentle singing voice as background noise for Tony.

Moments like that, they both wished Howard and Maria were not busy sometimes but they're more than happy to raise the little guy instead.

----

As much as he is their little boy, he is Howard's son and that being said he was a little rebellious at time. Especially in his early teens and his years as an adult..

"Anthony Edward Stark, where the hell you think your going?" Elizabeth asked with her arms crossed and tapped her foot with a glare.

"Out!" Repiled Tony, who was 12 years old at this point with a classic smirk.

"It's Monday afternoon on a school night!"

"So?"

"So you're not heading out to whatever your heading off to! I don't care what it is, Friday it's another thing, I allow it. But Monday, hell no!"

"You're not dad, auntie Liz!"

"And thank god I ain't. Be lucky it ain't Peggy either, why do you want to head out anyway? To act cool with your friends?"

Tony sighed in defeat dramatically dropping the smirk and crossed his arms, "Well no shit. All my friends are doing it."

Jason stepped in after returning home from an getting supplies hearing his nephew, "Please tell you didn't just curse in front of your aunt."

"I just said 'shit'! Relax.." Tony replied with a sigh thinking of something knowing who's the softer parent, "And aunt Liz won't let me go out."

"First off no cursing at your aunt. And second, out where?"

"An party..all my friends will be there!"

"Is it on Friday?"

"Yup! It's on Friday, it's a small party."

Elizabeth scoffed, "No! It's tonight, an silly little stupid party with his friends doing god knows what. God knows if the parents will be there!"

"She's lying! She doesn't want me to have fun this week and stay stuck in this house, only invite to Rhodey or something." Tony shouted.

"Enough!" Jason yelled raising his voice, "I know she ain't lying and that you're the one who is actually lying. You know the rules Tony, no parties or anything on school night like Monday. And something tells me those kids parents don't know they're going to that party."

"B-but that's not fair! I should be allow to go." Tony yelled.

"No you shouldn't and it is fair, she’s saving you for tomorrow. She knows that something off is going on if it's on a Monday, simple as that. Doesn't that sound a little weird to you?"

"...yeah..it does."

"We will talk about this later."

A few more words were said before Tony left to the living room. Liz was pissed off and so was Jason.

He sighed and told her, "You were doing the right thing."

"I know.." She sighed, "I know. I'm just trying to protect him. Something tells me this won't be the last argument."

"Cause it won't. But we just try to lead him down the right path.."

"You got that right. Protecting him and all that.."

----

Road trips with the three of them tend to be something else. Tony always making himself known with questions, annoying them on purpose and snickering afterwards.

"Where we going?" Tony asked in the backseat, playing with his jacket zipper.

"To meet Peggy and your parents in San Diego." Elizabeth replied like it was obvious with a smile.

"And why are you driving?"

"Because your uncle JJ has a bad history with driving."

Jason perked up, "I'm right here, you know?!

Tony snorted, "Okay what time we get there?"

"Midnight." Elizabeth said with sigh.

"What happens at midnight?"

"You're bedtime."

"Can I drive?"

Both shouted at the same time, "No!"

That resulted in Tony laughing at their response as both parents chuckled at his ridiculous way to make times like that a joke or two.

---

Sometimes Elizabeth tends to become a mama bear, as if she isn't already. Like when Tony started dating, Howard rolled his eyes chuckling at his sister and Maria gushed hoping her boy enjoys the dating scene.

Elizabeth on the other hand, she was so excited and sat beside Jason one afternoon while he was reading. He was reading a classic children's' book from the shelfs, 'The Giving Tree' when Elizabeth came with a grin.

"Yes my darling?" He asked looking up from the book with a laugh.

"Tony got a date!" She repiled with a smile.

"With who? I mean I'm not surprise our kid has been a cheeky little guy since the age of 3."

"You know that day Howard took Tony down to that event in Chicago? Well there was this nice girl there with her mother, Tony sneaked off to see her and now they met again due to her mother bringing her here for an clothing event. And according to Ana, he has a date."

"That's my boy. If he's not a gentleman, I'll ground him for life. Where to?"

"Ana said that caravel downtown this weekend. She was eavesdropping and I love her for it."

"Not bad for a first actually date with a girl he seems to like."

Elizabeth sigh assuming something, Jason knew that look on her face and ask her what's going on.

"I don't want to sound cheesy but he's growing up so fast, JJ! I mean where did the time go? It felt like I was helping him add 2 + 2 yesterday! Now a date? Damn..he's my baby." Elizabeth admitted with a sigh.

Jason opened his arms pulling her into an tight embrace as she was nuzzling comfortably against his neck. She pouted, it was a rare moment but she did. He chuckled rubbing her shoulder.

"Aw, Lizzie, darling. He's growing up, I don't like it. Hell I would rather stop time and let him stay the way he is now. But we can't. Before we know it, he's buying his own house or deciding to buy this one off his father." Jason joked with a smile.

Elizabeth chuckled, "He might as well do that. I'm not ready for him to keep growing up, what if he doesn't want hugs from his auntie anymore? What if he grows up hating the idea of living with us? I mean it's a packed a house, i don’t blame him."

"Hahaha no, honey he won't. I think he rather have a packed house than a quieter one. And he will always need his auntie, he's your baby. Tony knows it, hell he might make you an godmother one day."

"Oh god no, don't think that far hahaha! I want him live in the moment now, before he's old and gray. I'm still gonna baby him no matter how old he is! You know that right?"

"Oh I know. And he's gonna be annoyed but love you for it. No matter what you do, you will be there to protect him and stand up for him."

"You too!"

"Oh hell yeah I will!"

---

And they are right about that. Yeah sure, Lizzie was gone under the ice for years due to a freak accident thinking she was goner. Having Jason and Tony feeling down in the dumps for some time.

But when that girl returned, her mama bird side came with her. And the man who was her right hand was more than happy about that.

"He's insane!" Liz yelled with a sigh, pointing at her nephew, "You're insane."

"Hello?! Have you met me?" Tony replied with a chuckle, "I think Pepper would love a big bunny for an anniversary slash Christmas present."

"Okay I dealt the whole 'I'm Iron Man, I can do whatever the hell I want' thing. But your Tony Stark! My Tony Stark, use that head of yours is a big bunny a good idea?"

"JJ gets you big jewelry and spoils you! I blame him for my actions, the bunny stays."

"Oh jeez. Did you at least get dinner ready?"

"Yeah it's pizza tonight. Why are you acting so uptight lately?"

Elizabeth sighed, "I've been asleep for years in ice and I come back to find you as Iron Man. A superhero. I know it's been an year now, but a part of me is still scared your gonna blow it!"

Tony chuckled pulling his auntie into a hug, "Oh Liz, it's me we're talking about. Hell, JJ is still terrified for my life. And honestly, I've already it blew it last year, in New York. I am stressed but I will be fine.."

"I know about your late night snacking and sleepless night, Tony. I'm worried about you. We all are."

"I know you are..but if anything happens, I will tell you. I promise."

~~~

Last forward to Christmas time, once the house blew up and JARVIS announces Tony's anxiety problems to everyone after arriving at the snowy side of the U.S. before shutting off.

Soon enough, they're dragging themselves across the snow to find a safe house. Rei's suit is being dragged across the snow, as he decide to start helping his godfather.

Liz snaps, "Anything you want to tell me?!"

"Okay in my defense I was gonna tell you soon." Tony winced.

"When?!"

"I was gonna make you an omelette and tell you about it!"

"Oh my god!"

Jason sighed dragging the Iron Man suit with them across with snow as the night fall onto of them.

"You two knew about this?! This whole time and didn't think of telling me?!" Jason yelled.

"I thought you knew about this! Or that he told you!" Liz yelled back.

"Great, now Ma and Pops are fighting." Rei added sarcastically, "Good job, Dad!"

Tony turned look at his son, “I’m sorry, how is this my fault?”

“Isn’t everything?”

“This is unbelievable.”

----

Other times, Jason and Elizabeth would be protecting themselves or their kids presence even when the guy isn't nearby.

Such as 2014, when they were called by SHIELD when it came to Alexander Pierce wanting their signature onto the new helicarriers.

Jason was tired as he asked, "Okay Pierce, what the hell is this?"

Elizabeth was standing next to him and pressed, "Mr. Secertary, what he meant is there a reason you've asked us to come here?"

"Signature, Mr. Underwood and Miss Stark." Said Pierce holding out pens, "As well, I was hoping you ask your nephew to stop by my niece's birthday party as a favor for Nick."

"He's our nephew, not a party entertainer." Elizabeth said with a raise eyebrow.

"Unless it's for his own children, and at the moment he's not dealing with your favors." Jason added, "What's the favor you're doing for Nick?"

"That's classified information, sir." Pierce replied.

"Of course it is..you know, it was a pretty long day and I don't want to be here. Matter a fact, none of us want to be to here! So good night Alexander." Elizabeth said standing up from her chair.

Jason stood up following her, opening the door for the girl as he gave Pierce an odd look before walking out. However that didn’t stop Elizabeth Stark to get information later on that day, returning to Alexander Pierce’s office after cooling down to get any information needed.

——

Sometimes due to Jason and Elizabeth being so close to Tony, along with their godchildren they get mistaken for the actual parents. Hell, even for being a couple more than once.

Such as in the early to late 2010s, Justin Hammer once asked, “Are theses your parents, Stark? I thought they were dead..”

Tony would give an sarcastic smile and reply, “Aw Hammer, you’re jealous? Too bad not everyone was given 3 sets of parents.”

“Three?”

“Oh yeah, didn’t you hear? Or were you too busy washing yourself in that horrible 80s cologne?”

Justin scoffed, “Damn. But seriously, are they giving out set of parents for free or what?”

“No. They’re mine, you can’t have them.” Tony added with a smirk.

~~~

Or when Fury called Tony and The Avengers out a few times, he will tend to bring JJ and Liz names into conversation, using the term parents. Such as in 2015, when they are all in Clint’s Barn. Also known as The Safe House.

Everyone was in the kitchen, including the teens and kids. Some were at the table such as Natasha, Bruce, Rick, Ava, Rei and Rochelle. Others were surrounding the area near the sink and fridge across from the kitchen island, such as Tony, Clint and Steve with Liane and Luna.

Clint’s wife Laura was listening in as the younger kids were wondering around.

Elizabeth was drying dishes as Jason washed them, meanwhile Fury was finishing placing some orange slices on a plate.

Nat spoke up, “You know boss, when I was hoping I saw ya, you would have more than that.”

Fury replied, “I do. I have you. Back in the day, I had eyes everything, ears everywhere else. You kids have all the things you can dream to use, Stark’s parents didn’t have much to work with beforehand but they made do. Now here we are, back on earth with nothing but our wit and our willingness to do good.”

Jason added, “Just like old times, huh? Rehashing a plan during dinner, then collaborating in the morning to figure out what can be done..”

“Ain’t that the truth. Nothing but our strength to save the world and make a difference for others.” Elizabeth commented with a grin.

Fury gave them a half smile and continued his speech, “Ultron says The Avengers are the only thing between him and his mission. And weather or not he admits it, his mission is global destruction. All this lay in the grave. So stand, out with the platinum bastard.”

Natasha winked at Rick and Rochelle before saying with a smirk, “Steve doesn’t like that kinda talk.”

Steve gave her a humorous mock glare, “You know what, Romanoff?”

The teens and young adults in the room snorted and chuckled. The group kept talking, figuring out what will they all do next, with the young members of the team chiming into the conversations.

Even Jason mentioned, “You can try Pentagon's firewall, are they open this time?”

“That could work, they are still roughly open this time and hour.” Elizabeth comments.

“Should i know why you know that?”

“I had to message the Pentagon years ago to reach an barrier of systemic risks, for SHIELD’s locating tactics. And Tony did something he wasn’t supposed to..”

“Oh god, what was it this time?”

Fury ate his orange slice answering, “You’re boy cracked into SHIELD systemic burns, but beforehand he cracked their firewall.”

“That’s something, I do think I remember he did!” He replied chuckling, “We got mysterious calls afterwards for weeks.”

Tony chimed in with a grin sounding proud and said, “I cracked the Pentagon’s firewall in high school on a dare and got a sweet deal afterwards.”

Elizabeth grinned brightly, “That’s my boy! Definitely a win in my books.”

“And me? I cracked into SHIELD firewall too multiple times.” Rei added with a sly smile, as you could hear his godfather holding back his laughter in the background.

“I love you too, kiddo!” She replied to her sarcastic godson, “Both of you are the reasons for the facility's cyber-security sub-bar.”

——

Thanks for reading! Feel free to add any HCs or chat about what you liked about the fic 💻

Please like, share, comment and reblog for more like this

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @mallowbee4 @rooster-84 @rickb-chaos @starkleila @whitewiccan @infinetlyforgotten @meiramel @sherloquestea @missstrawbs2001 @djs8891 @buckysteveloki-me @yetanotherwells @savemewattpad and etc

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qilingxiong · 1 year ago

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Thinking about NPSS' notes on Xiaoge in the Volume 8 postscript today:

"This is a man as powerful as a deity. With him in the space, I can always write very easily, because as long as he is around, I can block all disasters and suffering for you. He has no words, no happiness, and no grief. He’s always like a porcelain doll, just standing there silently while looking at everything indifferently. But you know that he cares about you, and no one can ever bring you as much of a sense of security as he does. I don’t know why, but when I write about this man’s various actions, my heart is always suffused with a deep sadness. As he himself said, he is a man without a past and a future. His only connection with the world seems to be of little value. He doesn’t know where he came from or where he’s going, he only knows that he has one thing he must do in this world. “Can you imagine? One day you suddenly wake up in a cave and look around without knowing anything, but you already have a responsibility that you must shoulder. You have no right to see the scenery along the way, and you can’t enjoy your friends and lovers. The moment you regain consciousness, all the beautiful things in your life have no meaning to you.” Zhang Qiling is carrying his own destiny in silence. What saddens me the most is that he just carries it indifferently, as if it’s a trivial matter that’s taken for granted. If you ask him, he’ll only silently shake his head and say to you, “It’s fine.” This is the man I wrote. He bears the most painful fate in the world, even a thousand times more painful than death. But he is neither angry nor sad, nor evasive or full of suffering. He’s right there, telling everyone he protects that it’s fine. At the end of Volume 8 of “The Grave Robbers’ Chronicles”, I let him sleep again, and only after ten years will I have the chance to wake him up again. This may not be a good ending for everyone, but for him, I really can’t think of a better one." (x)

#wailinggggg #dmbj #zhang qiling #ashton originals #ashton's translations

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no-tengo-ojos · 4 months ago

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Here’s my take on the Arthur Lester scar map!

I thought it would be fun to make a rag doll again because it’s been a good few years since I’d done one

Process and other bits below cut

Started out with a freehand pattern piece and then crawled through the Malevolent wiki mapping out all of Arthur’s mishaps (whoever runs/edits that wiki I am forever grateful to you)

Sew together the main body. I had to drown Husk Arthur in a dye bath (like father like daughter) because I didn’t have any fabric in the right colours hanging around

Stuffed him with the most fleshy thing I could find and gave him a little satin heart (<3) Build-A-Bear style

Added details on the face and hair (which I actually might change cus idk if I like them. Lmk in tags). It was kinda fun cutting him open and stuff so I now see where Kayne was coming from

Dip dyed John’s parts and made him lil booty shorts (like hell am I letting you freaks see under there) and he was all done!

I currently don’t have any clothes for him just because I don’t have any suitable fabric but I will be making him a little floral dress soon and I’m also taking him caving (his favourite!) with me and my bestie on Tuesday so be prepared for Arthur Lester adventure pics soon xoxo

#malevolent #malevolent pod #arthur lester #malevolent fanart #no_ojos_art #arthur lester scar map #he’s terrifying in the dark btw #but it is a horror podcast so that checks out #sewing #rag dolls #arthur lester ragdoll adventures

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disastermages · 4 months ago

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Draped in Black and Dripping With Love Ch. 6

[read it on ao3]

Lan Zhan’s ears prick against the sound of shouting, however distant the echoes are as he stares at himself, or rather, someone who looks like him. Anxiety grips around him like a fist ever tightening as those voices draw closer. The version of himself in front of him is down on his knees, the blue glow of his spiritual energy catching the shadows on his face.

The blue glow illuminates the other person too, but Lan Zhan refuses to let himself take a step back as his eyes meet the unseeing, blank gaze of the Yiling Patriarch.

“Wei Ying,” The other Lan Zhan pleads, his voice raspy and worn with use, “please. Come back to Gusu with me.” It’s the desperation that makes Lan Zhan want to choke, it’s the knowing that he’s felt it before, but he never had the nerve to ask Wei Ying to return with him. Pressing a hand against his throat, Lan Zhan forces himself forward, until he stands next to the other version of himself. He doesn’t have to guess what the Yiling Patriarch is saying, he can tell from the moving of his lips, even if not a sound slips from between them.

The shouting grows nearer still, the voices growing angrier and angrier. Lan Zhan and his doppelganger both turn at the same time, their eyes wide, but only the double makes a movement. He stands and gathers the Yiling Patriarch into his arms, his breath coming hard and heavy as he draws his sword.

“Help him.” Lan Zhan’s double says, seemingly to no one at all, until Lan Zhan feels his own eyes burning into him. The doppelganger is still pointing his sword, but Lan Zhan can see that it isn’t meant for him, not at all.

The voices are almost upon them and the Yiling Patriarch is still murmuring wordlessly, but for the first time, Lan Zhan notices how bloody his double is, how robes that should’ve been flawless and white are damaged and sullied, and how the Patriarch himself is worn. His cheeks are hollow, his hair rough and lusterless, and how he lacks the shine his Wei Ying has. As if someone has dulled him to the point of looking as if he’s been lingering on death’s door for some time now.

The Yiling Patriarch’s eyes roll between Lan Zhan and the other version of himself like that of a doll’s, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Help him,” Lan Zhan’s double commands again, dread setting in as a voice, too similar to that of Lan Zhan’s uncle, bears down upon them, “You must. I cannot.” The words are an admission of guilt, one that makes Lan Zhan’s throat feel tight, even as coldness creeps up his back and over his shoulders. He pulls his arms in around himself without meaning to, throwing a glance over his shoulder as the Yiling Patriarch starts to push and shove against the other Lan Zhan. The blows never seem to land, they don’t even seem to matter to Lan Zhan.

“How?” Lan Zhan asks, raising his voice against the din that finally hangs at the mouth of the cave, but when he looks, Lan Zhan can see no one. He can feel them, though, he can feel his uncle’s glare. He feels himself move closer to the other version of himself and the Yiling Patriarch for it, a chill ringing out against his arm as he brushes against the sword. If it draws blood, just below his shoulder, Lan Zhan can’t bring himself to look at it, his chest heaving.

“Wangji!” Lan Qiren’s voice rings out, harsh and clear in the cave and Lan Zhan’s eyes fly open as he sits up, panting while his arm aches and burns with something cold. The sheets are tangled around him, nearly tying him to the bed as Lan Zhan drags his knees forward and hangs his head between them. His fingers curl into something hot and thick as Lan Zhan clings to his own arms. He doesn’t need to look to know that it’s blood, he can feel the cut that’s split his skin apart, he only needs to cover it with his hand so he doesn’t ruin another set of Wei Ying’s sheets.

What had that other version of himself been trying to do for the Yiling Patriarch? Why was he trying to feed him spiritual energy? Why hadn’t it done a single thing to improve the Patriarch’s condition? The room spins around Lan Zhan while he tries to think, his stomach lurching and clenching around nothing. How was he meant to help if the Yiling Patriarch seemed so unwilling?

Lan Zhan only stands when the room stills, when it doesn’t feel as though the floor will drop out from underneath him, his body feeling heavy. “Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan calls, hanging in the doorway as he waits for an answer. He’d woken up alone, and he’s grateful for it, but it isn’t like Wei Ying to wake up before him, and it isn’t like Lan Zhan to sleep so late.

He knows he should take care of the cut on his arm first, however deep or shallow it actually is, but Lan Zhan needs to see Wei Ying first. He needs to see him and know that he isn’t somewhere unreachable.

Forcing himself to stop, Lan Zhan listens, trying to hear if Wei Ying was working in some part of the house, if he was continuing to work on the mural like he planned to, or if he’d abandoned it again for another project, however big or small. Instead, Lan Zhan hears Wei Ying’s voice, not very close, but not very far away either. Lan Zhan swallows thickly as he forces himself to move, following the sound of Wei Ying’s voice.

The mumble of it is too soft for Lan Zhan to understand the words, but he doesn’t miss the scolding tone, the way Wei Ying chastises whoever it is he’s speaking with. He begs the floorboards not to give him away as he creeps closer, squinting into the darkness of the room. Wei Ying sits on the floor, shielded from the shadows by a block of pale light creeping in despite the storm outside.

Lan Zhan watches as Wei Ying leans back on his hands, looking all too casual while he listens to voices Lan Zhan can’t hear himself. “Lan Zhan’s never once hurt me, I told you that before.” Wei Ying insists, his tone flattening. Wei Ying is talking about him? But to whom? It’s been almost three weeks since the Yiling Patriarch has been seen by either of them, or at least, Lan Zhan thought so.

Dropping into a crouch by the door, Lan Zhan strains his ears to listen, trying to hear who or what Wei Ying was speaking with, his hands braced against the wall for balance. At first, he can only hear the whirling of the wind, the humming that always seemed to be present in the walls of houses, modern and old, but slowly, the words come. They run into each other, rising and fading with the wind, the voice behind them sounding high and then low, never once do they press themselves into Lan Wangij’s mind to be understood.

“Well, my Lan Zhan is different from your Lan Zhan, then. He’d never drag me all the way to Gusu just to punish me.” Lan Zhan wants to sigh at the childish tone Wei Ying takes on. He knows Wei Ying can argue better than that, they’ve had better arguments than that with each other.

Lightning flashes outside the window and Lan Zhan cranes his neck to see into the shadows, his eyes widening as the Yiling Patriarch, pale and gaunt, sits across from Wei Ying, one arm up on his knee. The sight only lasts for a second, maybe half as much, but Lan Zhan still uses an explosion of thunder to get up, hoping to muffle the sound of the creaking floor. He isn’t sure what he means to do next, whether he means to scurry back to the bedroom and pretend to still be asleep, or if he means to do something else entirely, but he’s betrayed by the house yet again.

A draft rushes past Lan Zhan, quick and cold as it pushes the door open and slams another shut, giving him away to Wei Ying and the Yiling Patriarch all at once. Wei Ying’s mouth opens and closes a few times, questions or excuses, Lan Zhan doesn’t know which, trying to bubble up, but before they can come, Lan Zhan is moving. He walks with speed and with purpose, uncaring if Wei Ying is following after him, and unlistening to the way Wei Ying calls his name.

Lan Zhan tells himself that he isn’t angry, that he just needs to think. Thinking is the only reason he locks the bathroom door behind him and leans against it. He isn’t sure if Wei Ying stands on the other side of it, he isn’t even sure if Wei Ying is the one who rattles the doorknob, but just to cover himself, Lan Zhan makes a point of turning on the lights. If he cannot handle Wei Ying right now, he’s sure that he can’t handle the version of him that doesn’t like him even half as much.

Only when the doorknob ceases to shake does Lan Zhan peel himself away from the door. If he were working, he would have to push everything aside and ask Wei Ying how long he’s been communicating with the spirit, if the Patriarch had permission to speak to him or use his body, but the mere thought of it makes Lan Zhan shake his head as he sits down on the closed toilet. Wei Ying wouldn’t. Wei Ying knows better. Doesn’t he?

If he asked his uncle, Lan Qiren would scoff and say that any cultivator willing to let themselves get possessed so simply should’ve never been considered for certification, but his uncle has never truly had patience for Wei Ying. Lan Zhan has to remind himself of that.

His family would be no help if he brought this issue to them, even if he phrased it as a hypothetical question. Lans did not deal in hypotheticals, every case was to be taken with severity and seriousness. Lan Zhan was meant to do that, the fact that he didn’t condemn Wei Ying and his path earned his uncle and brother looks of sympathy. Ones that were usually reserved for children and their tantrums and phases. Lan Zhan doesn’t have to guess to know that his uncle still hopes that Wei Ying is nothing more than a phase, that one day Lan Zhan will come to his senses and follow after someone who might follow the orthodox path, someone who doesn’t shine as brightly.

Lan Zhan doesn’t remember the cut on his arm until the whirring of Wei Ying’s circular saw downstairs startles him and he leans against it by pure accident, reopening the wound. He’d even forgotten about his own blood on his hand. He’s already in the bathroom, he already knows where Wei Ying keeps his first-aid kit, so cleaning and putting a bandage on the cut is easy enough, but Lan Zhan still lingers in the bathroom. Wei Ying is still downstairs, the sounds of the circular saw have turned into the banging of a hammer on something.

Lan Zhan tries to think of what he might be working on, his eyes burning into the door. Garden boxes. He remembers now. They were going to work on them together, but Wei Ying has started on his own and Lan Zhan tries to ignore the sting of it. He’s the one who locked himself in the bathroom. Staying in here any longer would be just as childish as he thought Wei Ying’s earlier arguing was, but Lan Zhan’s hand still sits on the doorknob, refusing to turn it and step out until an unseen hand drives him forward, out into the dark hallway.

There’s nothing. No one to pounce on him and screech in his face, not even a cold breeze to acknowledge his presence. Lan Zhan isn’t sure if he should be grateful or ashamed for it.

He returns to the bedroom and dresses in a hurry, nearly skipping over the buttons of his shirt more than once. If he were anything but a coward, he might go down and confront Wei Ying, he might demand answers, but isn’t he just as wrong as Wei Ying? He’d been listening in on a conversation that wasn’t his own. But the conversation was about him, does that count for anything? It wouldn’t if he’d been caught at home. He would’ve been lectured and sent to copy down rules while standing on one hand.

Shaking his head, Lan Zhan forces himself to take the stairs slowly, his eyes on the steps in front of him. He doesn’t see Wei Ying until he’s knocked the both of them over, his own long hair blinding the both of them in the tangle of limbs. At least some of it gets into Wei Ying’s mouth until he spits it out and Lan Zhan hurries to pull it back, wishing he’d taken the time to braid it or tie it up now.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying starts and reaches for Lan Zhan, his voice deliberately calm. Panic overrides every one of Lan Zhan’s movements as he stands and realizes that Wei Ying means to explain right here and right now. The storm had faded away, but it had left heat and humidity in its wake, a sheen of sweat clings to Wei Ying’s exposed skin as Lan Zhan finally looks at him. He hasn’t taken a single step outside yet, but the damp air is already prickling at Lan Zhan’s skin. That’s all it is, humidity and nothing else.

“Is Wei Ying hurt?” Lan Zhan asks, cutting off any attempt Wei Ying could make at explanation and not knowing why. Wei Ying climbs to his feet without assistance, his eyes never leaving Lan Zhan’s face, even as Lan Zhan tries to hide whatever Wei Ying may or may not see. He’s always been better at seeing him than anyone else, but Lan Zhan does not want to be seen right now, not by Wei Ying, not by himself, either.

“I’m alright, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying answers, his voice careful and soft. He’s chewing on more, the words sitting in his mouth and getting gnawed into smaller and smaller pieces while he pins Lan Zhan in place, both by standing in his way and with his eyes. He doesn’t ask if Lan Zhan is alright, if he’s unhurt, he knows better, but he doesn’t stop himself from putting his too warm hand on Lan Zhan’s wrist, adding another degree of holding him in place. “You’re all dressed like you’re going somewhere.” The effort to sound casual is there and the real question is buried underneath half-chewed words.

“I was going to the store,” Lan Zhan doesn’t lie, it was on his list of things to do, “Wei Ying mentioned that he did not want to go to the grocery store, so I will go instead.” Another truth, Wei Ying had been bemoaning it last night while they made dinner. Neither of them relax with it, though, the tension holding them both stiff as Lan Zhan clenches his fist.

“Let me drive you.” Wei Ying says, but Lan Zhan knows that it’s an appeasement, or worse, another way to keep him from moving too far beyond Wei Ying’s reach.

“No room.” Lan Zhan reminds Wei Ying with a shake of his head. The bed of Wei Ying’s truck was occupied by a tarp covered armoire that Wei Ying found and wanted to restore. “I do not mind walking.” A half truth, Lan Zhan loathed walking in this heat, but compared to his other option, it felt preferable. If he bought too much, he would simply call a taxi or a rideshare service, though he doesn’t say as much to Wei Ying. It would only keep the argument going.

Carefully, without shaking off Wei Ying’s hold too urgently or too reluctantly, Lan Zhan nudges past him. It takes more effort than Lan Zhan thought it would not to look at Wei Ying, to not fall into the trap of the kicked puppy look on his face. There’d be no saving him if he did. If he looked at Wei Ying now, he would let Wei Ying drive him to the grocery store, he would listen to whatever rationalization Wei Ying had come up with and he would force himself to believe that Wei Ying had it all under control.

Lan Zhan can’t do that to himself.

Not right now.

“Will you let me help you carry the bags in when you get back?” Wei Ying asks weakly, his fingers closing around nothing. This request isn’t for Lan Zhan, it’s for Wei Ying himself.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan gives in, just that little bit, “I will let Wei Ying know when I am on my way back.” If he had a hand to spare. If he didn’t call for a ride. If he could allow Wei Ying to come that close to him again.

Lan Zhan leaves Wei Ying to watch him go from the porch, his eyes bearing into him with every step, until Wei Ying can’t see him anymore, until Lan Zhan can feel himself sag with the weight of it. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Wei Ying he was going to the grocery store, but he’d never said he wouldn’t stop. He never said he wouldn’t call his younger cousin.

“Jingyi,” Lan Zhan tries to keep his voice measured. If he betrayed anything, Lan Jingyi wouldn’t outright tell on him, he would never, Lan Zhan is his favorite cousin, but he might let something slip to Lan Huan. Lan Zhan can’t risk it. “Could you research something with my credentials and send me the files?”

Lan Zhan spins a story made up of half truths and half promises made to ensure his cousin’s help. He left his work laptop behind when he left last month. A truth. He needed to access the private database on behalf of a friend. A lie, but one that Lan Jingyi accepts as truth and promises to forward the files on both the Yiling Patriarch and Hanguang-jun to Lan Zhan’s work email. All of it in exchange for Lan Zhan’s agreement to talk their uncle down the next time Lan Jingyi made a mistake, however big or small it was.

And then Lan Zhan goes grocery shopping, though his mind still buzzes with questions and a hurt that he refuses to acknowledge. It drives him to distraction, giving all the aunties their chances to push past him for the best pieces of fresh fruit and vegetables, for the choicest cuts of meat, for first pickings over things that don’t matter.

Lan Zhan doesn’t pay any of them a moment of mind as he pushes through the list he and Wei Ying made together last night. This is another thing they were supposed to do together, but Wei Ying built the garden boxes on his own, so now Lan Zhan is grocery shopping by himself. He doesn’t have to think about Wei Ying sneaking alcohol or other treats into the cart while he isn’t looking. Lan Zhan wishes it didn’t make him feel lonely.

Another storm has rolled in by the time Lan Zhan is finished, the clouds looking darker and the rain coming down heavier than before as Lan Zhan lingers under the awning of the store. The bags cut into his fingers, but he doesn’t set them down, not for a minute.

At first, he’d thought the storm would throw its tantrum and then blow over, leaving the street and sidewalk steaming whenever the sun came out to beam down on them again, but the rain only comes down harder and harder. Lan Zhan doesn’t have a free hand to call for a ride, or to call Wei Ying, not that he wants to, but he doesn’t even have the choice of it now.

He’s just accepted his fate to walk home drenched with his bags filling up with water with every step when a set of headlights nearly blinds him as they sweep across his face. Lan Zhan doesn’t need to see to know that Wei Ying has come to collect him, he can still hear the unique sound of Wei Ying’s truck over the rain and the thunder. He’s still blinking the blindness from his eyes when Wei Ying comes running over, an umbrella stretched out for Lan Zhan while his own head and shoulders get soaked.

Without a word, Lan Zhan allows himself and the groceries to be put into the passenger seat of Wei Ying’s truck, as if he’s nothing more than another piece of antique furniture that Wei Ying found languishing on the side of one road or another. He doesn’t have to say a single word if he doesn’t want to, his mother had told him that once when he was still small. She’d held him in her arms, against her chest, rocking him to comfort him after he’d been descended upon by an older, pushier relative.

Lan Zhan doesn’t buckle Wei Ying’s seatbelt for him this time, nor does Wei Ying tease him like Lan Zhan is sure he wants to. Everything feels too breakable for that, but even so, they don’t move, the truck simply idles while they sit in silence.

“Wei Ying,”

“Lan Zhan,”

They both start and stop at the same time, looking at each other expectantly but neither willing to start whatever argument they have sitting between them. After another moment of nothing, Wei Ying looks away first, one hand resting on the steering wheel and his head thumping back against the headrest. His eyes close and Lan Zhan curls his fingers against his palms.

“Wei Ying used to have a motorcycle when we were younger.” Lan Zhan starts, his quiet voice sounding too loud for the cab of the truck. “What happened to it?” Lan Zhan can still remember it. He can remember the sleek black of it between Wei Ying’s legs. He can remember Wei Ying’s helmet and his bike jacket. He can remember blustering when Wei Ying offered him a ride on it once.

He can remember the seed of envy in his heart as he watched someone else wrap their arms around Wei Ying’s middle while they sat on the back of the bike.

Lan Zhan doesn’t expect Wei Ying to snort, his eyes still shut. “I wrecked it.” Wei Ying says simply, his head rolling to face Lan Zhan before he opens his eyes, “A few months after Uncle Jiang kicked me out, I was leaving a bartending job I had and I crashed into a tree in the middle of the night.”

“And then?” Lan Zhan makes himself ask, turning his whole body towards Wei Ying now.

“And then I woke up in the hospital.” Despite everything, there’s a smile on Wei Ying’s face when he says it, but Lan Zhan knows that it isn’t meant for him, “I guess, when they called Uncle Jiang to tell him, he must’ve given the hospital my grandmother’s number, or I guess Aunt Yu could’ve done it. When I woke up, Bao-popo was leaning over me. I thought she was a doctor until she told me I looked like my dad, but I have to be my mom’s son if I think running headfirst into a tree with a motorcycle is how you cut them down.”

It’s more information than Lan Zhan had asked for, but he doesn’t regret hearing it, not when it melts some of the too hot air between them.

“She took me back to the farm after the hospital released me, she didn’t really give me a choice about it. She said it was to help me get better without getting distracted. When I was getting ready to leave she gave me the truck she brought me home in and told me not to bring it back to her until I’d fixed it up.”

“Wei Ying’s grandmother sounds… Stubborn. Like Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan says too honestly, his shoulders relaxing back against the seat. Wave after wave of rain beats down on the roof of the truck as Wei Ying snorts again.

Wei Ying doesn’t have to say it, Lan Zhan knows that he’s just as stubborn as Wei Ying, if not more, but Wei Ying didn’t get to ask his question first, Lan Zhan did.

“What about you? What did you do while I was gone?” Wei Ying asks, his arms folding over his stomach as a jolt of panic rings through Lan Zhan.

“Six months of probation for defying my uncle.” Lan Zhan says it honestly. Not only had he defied his uncle, he’d defended Wei Ying, he’d argued against the stripping of Wei Ying’s cultivation certification. He’d defended Wei Ying’s methods and his path as a viable one. “A year of confinement.” Lan Zhan purposefully lowers his voice as he utters the words. The year of confinement had come before his six months of probation, but in ways, the six months had been worse. Lan Zhan had found ways to communicate without his uncle ever finding out.

During his six months, every move he made was scrutinized, every ruling of intelligent versus residual haunt questioned, every paltry, low level case thrown his way with a dismissive wave of his uncle’s hand.

Lan Zhan had endured all of it, and then he’d fled to Wei Ying the first chance he got.

He doesn’t regret it, but he doesn’t expect Wei Ying to reach over and take his hand. Not his wrist, not his fingers, his hand. It makes Lan Zhan start and look at him again.

“Huaisang told me that you were the reason they didn’t strip my certification, but I didn’t believe him at first. I’m sorry, Lan Zhan, I didn’t-”

“Don’t.” Lan Zhan says quickly, shaking his head, “No apologies.” He doesn’t shake away Wei Ying’s hand, not even when he holds onto him with both. “I would have defended Wei Ying’s methods even if I did not care for him the way I do.” The confession tumbles from Lan Zhan’s lips and he cannot take it back, but he can look away from Wei Ying. He can turn his eyes onto the groceries in the floorboard. They need to get home. He needs to put away everything that needs to be refrigerated. It’s too late to bother with lunch, but it’s far too early for dinner.

“Wei Ying, I’d like to go home now.”

“Home?” Wei Ying asks, his hands tightening for just a moment before they loosen reluctantly and then let go entirely. “Home to Gusu?” Wei Ying’s eyebrows are knit together, hurt ready to blossom at a moment’s notice.

“Not home to Gusu.” Lan Zhan answers, shaking his head, “The popsicles will melt long before we get there. Home to Wei Ying’s house.”

The popsicles might’ve already melted for all Lan Zhan knows, but they’re an easy way to soothe Wei Ying’s worries, an easy way to hear him laugh so lightly, the sound of it ringing in Lan Zhan’s ears. It doesn’t soothe Lan Zhan the way he wants it to, but it does tuck a few fraying ends away as well as it can.

The truck groans with relief as Wei Ying finally takes it out of park and puts it into reverse, his hand against the back of Lan Zhan’s headrest as he backs out of the parking space. Lightning still flashes, and another roar of thunder rings out above them, but Lan Zhan forces himself to relax.

They’re nearly halfway home when Wei Ying speaks again.

“Lan Zhan, I heard that there’s gonna be a meteor shower in a couple days,” Wei Ying says with faux flippancy, but Lan Zhan can hear the undercurrent of his words, the nervousness laying just underneath the surface, “and I thought I could find a good spot for us to watch it together. If you’re up for it.” Wei Ying doesn’t phrase it like a question, he doesn’t even look at Lan Zhan as he speaks, but it still hangs between them, unanswered and skittish.

Too many answers crowd at the front of Lan Zhan’s throat, threatening to choke him as they trip over each other. Parts of him beg and plead with him to say yes, that he’s wanted it for this long, that he’s been waiting for Wei Ying to ask him just like this, but other parts of him, the hurt parts of him, ache and burn for him to say no, to throw Wei Ying’s non-question in his face.

“If the weather is clear enough to see it,” Lan Zhan answers noncommittally, his hands folding on top of each other in his lap.

It isn’t the answer that he should have given, but it’s enough of a yes for Wei Ying.

Lan Zhan doesn’t have to look at him to know it.

#wangxian #wuji #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan zhan #wei ying #wwx #lwj #case fic #modern au #modern with magic au #the untamed #the untamed fic #mdzs #mdzs fic #if youre wondering where ch 5 is i did post it #i just forgot to title it

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billiesgoodgirll · 1 year ago

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js some lil thoughts abt abs taking u to build a bear for a lil date <;33

sorry it’s so short n it’s not proofread so if u see a mistake shhh!!!

description: abs takes u to build a bear on a lil date <33 no use of y/n!! n reader is to be described very femme but no description on weight or skin color!! 💕💕

warnings: none!! js fluff 💌💐

☆ you told her a few weeks ago how u rlly wanna go to build a bear n that made abs get the cute lil idea to take u there on a lil date !!! so now here u r getting all dolled up ready to goo

☆ abs ties the last knot in the baby pink bows you have in your hair at the end of your braids (for my beautiful black bby’s abs will sit n braid your gorgeous natural hair n add lil butterfly clips and bows if you rlly want mls <333) n straps up your mary janes over your favorite frilly white socks matching your dress n cardigan <33

☆ then u both get in abs car her beautiful matte black doge challenger u choosing all the music ofc being her lil passenger princess as you drive there !!!

☆ you spend hours in the store i’m not kidding u end up getting 2 bc u pulled those wide doe eyes n pouty look abby can’t resist :((( “but baby you already have so many stuffies we can’t fit 2 more just 1” “but she’s so cute :(((“ she caves immediately after

☆ after stuffing your 2 bears you got the bunny n cinnamoroll build a bear !!! (you can imagine any other if you don’t like them bbys!!) for your bunny you get a strawberry scent n for cinnamoroll you get marshmallow <333 n you get the real beating heart n abby’s voice in both :((( (you can imagine what she says if you’d like!!! i imagine it would be one for when she’s out or whatever and you miss her n one just saying ily 💕💕)

☆ you get lil outfits for them both for your bunny a denim mini skirt n the cutest jumper ever <33 then for cinnamoroll you get his own onesie n sleepmask !!! “abs look how cute!!!!” you’d giggle all excited to her showing the outfits off when abs js wants to go as you’ve been in there for over 2 hours :/

☆ now it’s time to name them you start w your bunny naming her abby (basically u js made abs in bear form :3) and cinnamoroll, cinnamoroll as that’s his name <33 n abby js scoffs n goes on abt how she’s sm better than your abby bunny >:(

☆ finally y’all get home n your in bed abby n cinnamoroll in your arms as you lay on abby her reading quietly out loud as you murmur lil thank yous and i love yous sleepily cuddling both abbys n cinnamoroll your other stuffies lined up next to you drifting into a peaceful slumber <333

#꒱ೃ ✦ ꒰ evelyn writes! ꒱ೃ ✦#abby anderson #abby anderson fluff #abby x fem!reader #abby tlou

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nikoofdeath · 6 months ago

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So! Well I'm working on my tfw comic here's some info on the characters! Mostly red unless marked otherwise.

Spy: is tough love, he keeps others at a distance. But truly cares for the younger ones on the team (scout, runt, demo, sniper. [He isn't sure of pyro])

he will train them but push them to their limit. Rarely swears, but when he does it is in French.

Scout's mom is the only person to ever see through every disguise he has. She knows his body language and calling cards or quirks. When he would disguise himself to see Scout against his contract. She knew it was him every time and always found a way to kiss him.

Sniper: social to learn what the others quirks are. Would in theory betray them for half a peach.

Will steal items of the her mercs and hoard them. Can become obsessive sometimes.

Isn't interested in romance or sex, he'd rather observe others than get his hands dirty. But has strong friendships he refuses to admit are friendships.

Reads alot of books.

Climbs trees to get away from others will sleep anywhere. Has a habit of passing out in the middle of the day due to a poor sleep schedule.

Forgets to hydrate and eat, drives medic nuts.

Soldier: the only man to ever scare this brave American is heavy, has a respect for that man and will not cross him.

Made his wedding ring out of shrapnel from battles he and Zhanna have been in.

Speaking of Zhanna he loves her more then anything. If anyone slanders her they are dead. Very. Very. Dead.

His raccoons are his children. He thinks Pauling doesn't know about them, but Pauling is the oen that feeds them food that keeps them from getting ill form the poor diebt soldier gives.

Soldier can speak at least one other language, but no one knows what it is. He rather use it to easedrop on others then use it.

Collects things that remind him of his childhood and his wife for the possible prospect of children. "They will grow up as I did!"

Engie: when higher had a beard, pyro makes him shave it though as the comic gose.

Met Pyro before Pyro was given thr job. Was the one to tell Pauline about them.

Grew up with Leo in bee cave. Got him the job when Leo ran out of money for med school.

When is mad gets loud and stomps. Will drown self in work jf stressed.

Uses ductape for too much. Atheist 40% of his tech is reliant on duck tape somewhere on its body.

Pyro: is female.

Was daughter of someone who gave her skills to run a company.

Is very smart along the lines of Dell, tarvis, medic and Leo. But dosenr flaunt it. Sees it as nothing.

Has panic attacks. The mask helps with them liking being held tight and in smaller spaces.

Can read people well. Has those who are therapist of the crew check on those who are not ok. Knowing they are scary.

Collects taxidermy, runt gives them the failures if hers. Decorates the taxidermy in hats and doll clothing.

Can set anything on fire.

Demo: has made his own alcohol it sadly if touches the air will explode so uses it in bombs.

Loved Hawaiian shirts. Has always wanted to go but never had the time.

Is the one that tends to thr guardens of the base. Won't let pyro touch them after thr incident.

Is the therapist's friend but also the trouble maker will give you good life advice but also tell you to do something stupid. Thare is no invtween.

If it wasn't for heavy he would be the glue. Will talk to anyone. And helps cook most nights.

Has tattoos and feckless.

Scout: keeps a plush bear his dad gave him. Him. The others tease him but spy struggles not to tear up when he sees it.

Has a baseball his mom gave him when he got the job. Dosent know spy is the reason he got thr job. His mom begged him as their wasn't any Jobs for him.

Is forced to mentor runt. Iant a big fan of this but dose it for pauling.

Is more respectful than he acts. He acts loud and rude to seem cool. But his mother put a strict respectful streak in him.

Gave his dad a feather when he was 4 he doesn't remember. But Spy keeps it in his hat.

Heavy: is quiet gentle gient.

He is very smart and rather watch then talk.

Is very loyal and has had a..talk with soldier that if he ever hurts Zhanna he is a dead man. Soldier now refers to him as Sargent. He won't tell the others what he said.

Cooks well, but rather not do it. Not something he enjoys.

Is a artist. Paints in his free time.

Sings alot as well and plays five instruments.

Medic: is of Jewish descent. Doesn't..talk about his family or what happened in the war.

Has a gold ring he wears at all times on a necklace.

Dosenr talk much. Unless you get him talking about science. He loves to learn.

Is older than everyone. Rumor has it he knew the original mee teams. Uber has some interesting effects on life expectancy.

Guilty pleasure is anything chocolate.

Has money insecurities due to past. Will do anything for a bigger paycheck....anything

Leo: is medics apprentice. Has been working for 3 years.

Is quiet but loyal.

Has a gf back home. Sees runt as a little sister.

Runt and he have been pen pals for over ten years. A school project is how they ended up sending letters.

He knows what happened to Runt. He is the one who convinced Pauling to interview her.

Is shocked runt got the job was fully ready to tey to blackmail Pauling.

Runt: the youngest of the group. Only having a year of work under her belt.

Was trialed for six months before first battle.

Has alot to learn. But wants to do everything perfectly. Is rough on herself for this reason.

Can't lose this job. If she does she is sent back home or die. Has hallucinations so fears will be put into a loony bin if family finds out.

Is eldest of six. Loves her family.

Spy teaches her how to torture people. She enjoys it perhaps too much. For her she likes to know how people tick.

Blu engie (G): is quiet bur social.

Has a sadistic side. Will gutt you if given chance.

Second in command of Blu.

Was born without left hand, when engie lost his right he'd make jokes to his short cousin about it.

Is Dell's cousin. He is younger but taller.

Is patient and if mad gose silent. He dosent emote much unless he's with someone he likes or trusts..oddly enough..runt of red is one of those people

Pauling: finds scout cute but puts job first.

Is nerdy type. Has played dnd at least five or seven times.

Loves to collect rocks. Has a few scout and the mercs gave her.

Loves to read.

Has coffee more than anything else. Her hands shake because of this. Still is one of the best shots of the whole crew.

Teaches scout to read when they have days off.

Runt and her go out to get coffee and Runt gives her info she already knows but likes having a female friend.

Well that's it suffer I guess idk I got a comic to make!

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