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thecitythatdoesntsleep · 4 years ago

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Vampire Master-Guide

First of all I want to start off by saying I've gathered inspiration from MANY vampire medias. Fictions, games. The biggest influences are Vampire the masquerade (primarily bloodlines) and Vampire Knight (manga). As well as honorable mentions to Vampyr (game), Queen of the Damned (movie) and Van Helsing (movie, anime). So if anything sounds familiar, chances are it is. I highly encourage you to explore them as they are a few of my favorites.

Second of all this is going to be massive, so I'll be putting it under a cut. But it will be a comprehensive guide to my personal vampire lore that I've crafted and worked with through the years. If you like it, feel free to use it! I'd absolutely love to be tagged (so I can shower the creations with praise) but it's not required. I'm just out here making one more version of vampires that hopefully inspires you. There will be a couple different categories that I will touch base on.

History (this part is super short)

Physicality - Medical Information

Physicality - Appearance/Body

Mental Effects

Society

Anything from my vampire lore will be tagged #vlor

Now follow me under the cut, lovelies. But please be Warned: We'll be discussing blood, violence, physical and mental illness. As well as regular vampire related things. If any of this could trigger you, please kindly skip this post because you're far more important to me!

'History'

The original vampire to walk the earth, cursed by the heavens was Caine. After committing the first murder, a blood-soaked punishment was to forever be banished to walk the darkness with a constant reminder of his crimes. Thirst. Craving for the same blood he shed against his own kin. The sin was carried through the years and he came upon another outcast kindred by the name of Lilith, cursed by God in a different way and hexed with powerful disciplines.

They bonded as kine and Lilith taught her chaos to Caine in hopes they'd rule together. In the end his nature stayed true and his now empowered wrath befalls Lilith, committing murder yet again and taking her life.

To feed upon and be fed, was a now animalistic instinct that spoke louder than supposed human nature ever could. And thus the curse spread. To anyone that drinks from the tainted or is bitten by a rabid, is surely to bear it at the final heartbeat. The path to redemption is sealed but survival is nearly infinite. So long as the beast is obeyed and satisfied, there is no constraint on lifespan. They will be damned to an eternity enslaved to thirst.

(Primarily from VTMB but I really like the idea of it being some sort of ancient curse from the gods so I thought I'd include this tiny historical bit. Onto the good stuff.)

Physicality - Medical Information

Vampires are anemic, let's just establish that all vampires are what modern day medicine would consider anemia. But they also have super aggressive red blood cells that function x100 that of human white blood cells. All in one combo of super cells. No illness spreads. No disease can contract, nothing can live in their system. They don't fall ill with colds or flu. STD's aren't feasible. Their systems are far too strong and combative to infections, bacteria.

Their integumentary systems regenerate about x200 - x300 times faster. Within seconds (if there is or has been fresh blood in the system recently) their skin regenerates and goes even beyond that. Mere hours and limbs grow back, bones realign.

Vampires don't have functioning organs. (If they are turned from humans they are there but they don't work and will eventually wither.) Hearts don't beat, lungs have no need for air.

Vampires can't drown. They don't breathe and even if water fills their lungs, they would be weighted down but not die. They also don't float like humans do naturally.

Vampires can go out in the sun but they have hard times with sun poisoning. Think of a sunburn but more like a rash. They can't process the vitamin D very well and almost all of them have trouble with getting severely burnt very rapidly or having a rash from the sun. Prolonged exposure can make them feverish, nauseated and give them body cramps and fatigue. Even longer can make them violently ill and can essentially melt their skin. It can be healed but takes longer.

Staking their hearts immobilizes them but does NOT kill them. They can be detained this way and it is excruciatingly painful. But it doesn't kill you.

Vampires can't eat food. Only few can consume liquids aside from blood. They have no ability to digest it and no longer make acid. They'll usually heave it up along with whatever blood content is left in their gut.

They have perfect eyesight, hearing, hyper senses of taste and smell. Touch is extremely sensitive as well. Their skin isn't fragile, in fact it's a bit thicker than average skin from how fast it regenerates and is constantly maintaining itself.

They are very resistant but not impossible to scar. Scars from human life are erased with first turning.

Vampire blood tastes like flat soda or icky, room temperature tap water. Unpleasant to other vampires but in a desperate pinch, it will sustain but nowhere near as good as foreign blood does. Even animal blood takes better care of a vampires system than another body of recycled blood. (Think of it as they've already taken the good stuff out of it for their own bodies so all that's left is the taste and a few stray nutrients.)

Vampires fangs grow back indefinite. At about x10 the rate of humans losing and replacing their first set. No matter what comes of them, their fangs will always grow back. No other teeth mutate like this.

Fangs lengthen and retract when around blood or not. It's not something that can be helped or even trained out. When blood is present, fangs will lengthen even if there is no intention to feed. Automatic reaction and a painful one at that. They get used to it but it's a sharp pain like having a human tooth extracted but it doesn't have prolonged swelling or discomfort. Only when getting longer or retracting back in.

Whenever they're in bloodlust or a state of starvation, they gain a sense of x-ray vision but instead it's vein mapping. They can see through skin to arteries and if it's severe blood lust, they can even see the smaller, tinier veins in fingers and faces. This is a sight that ever vampire possesses in order to obtain blood easier or figure out a good place to bite. Anything that is living will be seen in a structure of veins. Animals, humans, other vampires.

Severing the brain stem from the body is one of the few sure-fire way to kill a vampire. Alternatively burning them to pure ash and scattering them or holding them in separate vessels. (If ALL ashes are contained somehow and mixed with fresh blood, there is a reanimation process so beheading them is more permanent.) Silver weapons or exposure to silver prior to wound can result in death as well.

Alcohol is SUPER effective when they drink it. Think of one shot making them drunk because it hits their bloodstream almost immediately. A double would have them seeing double and acting like a hot mess. 3+ for even the beefiest of men would have them blacked out and vomiting on the sidewalks.

Drugs effect them but only in extremely high doses and for nothing really over 2 hours or so. Short, short longevity but they have the same crash that humans do. If it's hard detoxing symptoms for humans, it's the same but faster. They can do a hard drug, feel the high for maybe 1 - 2 hours and immediately go into hallucinating and shaking from the aftermath. The same goes for Pharmacia. There's really no medicine that works.

Garlic is a myth. So is wolfsbane.

Silver on the other hand is a very real, very deadly weapon that still rings true. A single pinprick of a silver sewing needle and it can render a vampire powerless. Slow them down to the speed of a human, take away their rapid healing and remove all of their heightened senses. Silver directly into the bloodstream essentially renders them as they were before they turned in physical response and structure. It's the only metal that burns vampires skin and will char it if it sits in one spot for too long. Silver is the only kind of metal that can forge chain that vampires cannot break and can successfully be restrained in. Any wounds inflicted in silver take longer to heal.

They can't reproduce after being turned. Purebloods + Purebloods are the only exception and it's still extremely rare. (Only 9 children born in over 2,500+ years.)

Physicality - Appearance/Body

Whatever color their eyes are, blood-lust accentuates the brightest color. I.e: Brown eyes turn Yellow/Gold, Blue eyes turn White/Purple exct. (Different powers can change this depending on the vampire and their history, sire.) Just think neon, glowing eyes in the dark if they're thirsty or hunting.

They stay frozen in whatever physical appearance they're turned in. Their metabolism is whack so they don't really lose or gain weight, it's down to cosmetic changes or cosmetic surgery. Which at least it heals flawlessly and doesn't ever change. But there aren't many options for personally invested physical change.

Their hair and nails grow super fast.

Vampires usually have the hair color they have when they are turned but around 15% experience graying or whitening of their hair within a few days of turning. Due to a semi-common genetic string in humans.

Vampires don't tan. They burn. No matter what their skin color is. Most are the palest/pasty tone of their natural skin color merely due to anemia and lack of blood circulation.

They don't blush or show physical signs of fever.

Vampires don't sweat or flush when exerting or exercising. They don't have to regulate their body temperatures.

They get dry skin pretty often and it's important to combat it with baths and soaks and lotions/oils whenever possible.

They are usually a lukewarm body temperature. As low as 15°C|59°F to as much as 21°C|69.8°F.

Every vampire has a certain amount of charming allure to them. In whatever form or fashion suits them the best, it's a natural attractant to their human counterparts. A glint to their eyes, a certain smile, the pitch or timbre of their voice. Endearing, seductive, mysterious, whichever shines through in their personality. They are magnetic, attractive to the human eye, no matter what they tend to look like.

They can see themselves in aluminum coated mirrors. Just not silver.

Mental Effects

There is a staggering 95% probability that 'created' vampires will have amnesia unless turned by a pureblood/noble/king/queen/high ranking blood vampire. They remember nothing of their human lives and this is extremely common. It's actually very rare to remember anything prior to your awakening. (That's why there are usually strict laws about siring without consent and proof of consent.)

It is very easy for vampires to be blinded by fits of rage when starving for blood. They can fly into blind anger and attack people they normally wouldn't or even foes they have no chance of winning against. Depending on their remaining strength when this tipping point of starvation happens; it can be extremely dangerous to be around.

Most turned vampires suffer a psychotic break in their early turning years. (Between 6mo and up to 25 years of awakening age. I.e: from the date of being bitten.) The brain is the last thing to be altered in the physical process and because of this, it's believed that their mental state has to crumble to be built better. It's unknown as to exactly why this happens but it's almost guaranteed. It's the vampire equivalent of 'adolescence'.

Over 75% of vampires experience periodic depression and random bouts of sadness. Another 39% live with bouts of mild to moderate psychosis. (This has been suspected to happen because of the physical stasis and improper circulation of chemicals/hormones/exct. Many believe it's because of the guilt of their King, Caine.)

Mental illnesses that aren't born from physical imbalances are in cases of amnesia, cured. Those that are chemically related are usually worsened by the stagnant physical changes of vampirism. It's rare that those with amnesia remember their traumas or emotional upsets after turning.

The "amnesia" of turning is the death of a human psyche. With the staggering rate of permanent amnesia, it is hard to figure out exactly how it happens but it's widely known.

Society

Humans are not fully aware of vampires. This still rings true with the fear of world war and or wiping out the human race given their species.

There is a high society "government" type of monarchy. Each clan or type of vampires has a leader "elder". This is usually the oldest vampire to date of that specific type. Sometimes it's a group or a family of elders. In most modern day they have adapted to a more "presidential" route and have to establish themselves as leader types to be considered for any kind of law making or enforcement. (I.e: Noble bloodline, diligent efforts of servitude such as public service, military or other.)

There is a strict law against turning humans. Vampires are required to have clearly given consent and the process is to be looked over by an elder or enforcer. They must show strenuous documentation of that persons preservation in the name of probable amnesia. They must have a comprehensive processing of that persons interests, personality traits, societal standing, proof of occupational termination, familial status and situational agreement. (Basically they don't want humans forgetting their lives entirely and they want to make sure that they are able to move somewhere or hide from their families until they're well trained enough to be around them again. It's a very long to legally accomplish it.

Every city handles turning differently. Some require the sire to pay the death penalty and others are strictly against killing the one person responsible of their turned kindred.

Vampires are in every day jobs, doing anything and everything that humans do. From trash collecting, to law and doctors. Fame, fortune, poor, criminal; they all live as many walks of life as humans do.

Anti-vampire establishments are alive and well. Most are run by other vampires. Some humans share their beliefs but most typically it's a resounding amount of vampire extremists. This is legal due to the fact that they try to adhere and coexist for their sanctions ordinance. Helping enforce justice for their regions and implore an opposing force for rampaging vampires or other law breaking kindred.

Most human killings are covered up, tampered with or has someone on the inside working on doing both. It's a constant job but a needed one to keep their existence safe from being proven.

There is a massive shortage on vampire doctors serving other vampires or studying from what little information there is on vampirism. The ratio looking like 1 to 300. 1 doctor for every 300 vampires.

The most vampire dominated and lucrative occupations are generally law, publishing and sex working. There are 3 vampires with these jobs to every human worker.

Here is an additional post about how vampire blood would effect humans.

So that was everything I could think of for the time being. I may continue to edit and update this as I have time or I think of something that I haven't touched base on yet. But this is just the general lore I work with when I do write about vampires or when I think about them in general. Feel free to skip certain parts or like.. adapt it however you'd like. I made this to more so inspire people not to show a list of HOW things should go. Take of it what you like and ignore what you don't! Add more if you think of something!

Some of it gets a bit random but it's still things that I've either incorporated in some unpublished fics or talked about with some friends or just fantasized about in general. There's bits and pieces in all media for vampires that I really enjoy and I think every new style spins something different and makes for wonderful content!

#whump prompt #vampires #vampire prompt #whump list #character development #character reference #character sheet #vampire reference #character guide #vampire #vampire list #tw blood #tw violence #tw vampires #vlor

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colimbae · 3 years ago

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supernatural for dummies (or theres so many supernatural memes and they are fun! but who wants to watch 15 long ass seasons to enjoy memes)

disclaimer: i watched supernatural years ago, and stopped watching at maybe season seven but will that even matter? no.

supernatural is a monster of the week show (aka each episode is a discreet story, that in this case involves actual monsters) in an america where all of the creepy monsters are real, common, and very deadly, but most people have no idea about it somehow

some people do, and they hunt them down for the good of humanity and nothing else. they dont get paid. toss a coin to your witcher people. they are imaginatively called hunters

sam and dean winchester are hunters because their dad was a hunter (and an abusive prick) and their mum got killed by a monster. sam tried to pretend like there werent monsters and went to law school, only to have his partner also die by monster (rip). dean turned up, said that their dad had gone missing, and was like “hey lets hunt again” and so they did for the rest of their (dean’s) life

important story beats for all of the show include:

dean is macho man

dean used to pick up girls CONSTANTLY. like every bar he went to. then for some reason the show runners decided to make every antagonist call dean gay in various fun ways and he started to not pick up hot girls at every bar and instead get… flirted at… by dudes

i think that was meant to somehow just be homophobic jokes but they instead just made him look gay on purpose lmao whoops

sam misses his old life :( but he’s good at researching monsters and killing them and also getting flirted with

every season they tried to ramp up the stakes like “oh no its armageddon” “oh no wheres god” (or something like that) and they had to ramp up the stakes FIFTEEN TIMES. they started way to high for that

so there was demon possession and all that jazz, a (surely) gay demon named crowley who hit on dean constantly and also the lilith? getting all the big names in here

dean went to hell at one point. cant remember why. thats not important though, only that he was there

he then woke up out of hell with a handprint scarred onto his shoulder and fear in his heart

after a lot of build up it just turned out that a (now confirmed!) gay angel in a trenchcoat decided dean looked too cute to be in hell x

castiel, our gay boy, wasn’t meant to be a big character but the fans loved him so the showrunners just. went with it. and so we watched a lot of dean (and sam) teaching their gay angel friend about life, going on roadtrips with him, hunting with him, declaring that dean wont let him die a virgin no matter what (GOTTA RAISE THE STAKES)

you know, straight activities

(i dare you to go look up how many dean/cas fics there are on ao3)

so anyway this went on for many years. idk how they didnt run out of monsters and/or stakes to raise

but in 2020 they decided that enough was enough. they would end the show at fifteen seasons (thank god) but they had to make the finale the Biggest One Yet (oh god)

so, near the end of the season, they have castiel dramatically reveal he was always in love with dean just before being whisked away to SuperHell™ while dean just stood there and watched, confused.

this is where things get wild

this reveal, that fans had been hoping to see for OVER A DECADE was a) terrible b) killed off the gay instantly c) made dean/his actor (jensen ackles) look Home Of Phobic and, most importantly, d) was released during the wait for the 2020 presidency election results and the putin meme night

everyone went insane, started researching everything, decided that actually jensen ackles was the true destiel stan and had tried to get a line into the show where dean reciprocated, there was a whole thing with the spanish subtitles confirming deans romantic love for cas y yo a ti, cas

then we saw the finale. dean died by tetanus nail, went to heaven, didnt see or talk about cas once,,,, sam just stopped hunting and went back to his old life, and for some ungodly reason they kept playing carry on my wayward son Over and Over again. everyone was sad

cut to today (25/06/21 nz time) and jensen ackles reveals that hes doing a prequel to supernatural, focused on the abusive dad and dead wife meeting, that he didnt tell any of his former cast members about? including the dude who played sam (jared padalecki) who found out (and then was very publicly sad about this) on twitter (OR the castiel actor, misha collins, who fun fact interned at the whitehouse as a young adult and wrote about the monica lewinsky scandal and stole security passes, apparently)

everyone has decided that the public drama from this will be the spiritual season sixteen of supernatural and are treating this like reality tv

have fun now x

#supernatural

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goldenmist · 4 years ago

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"Could I please have Kokichi with a tall, curvy S/O who is very insecure? He flirts with her constantly but she always thinks he’s teasing or making fun of her because she doesn’t think anyone would like her. They’re not together yet."

Of course. I decided to give myself a little break from studying, so here I am. I hope at least somebody still remembers that I am alive. It's interesting how most of my posts include Kokichi, even though he is not my favorite character. Enjoy!

Tw: D*ath mentions, suggestive content, swear words, indignity.

Finding yourself in the midst of a killing game, your prerogative is to put your personality aside and strive towards surviving. To be less memorizable and interesting, to potential murderers. That is what every rational person would conclude. Nevertheless, the situation becomes a bit more difficult, when your persona is not a signature trait.

How uncomplicated it would have been for you, to be a timid little girl with a thin frame. Blending in with the crowd, would not be a problem at all. However ever since puberty, your body attracted some wishful gazes here and there. It enraged you, so many individuals earning for a night with you, but not for a talk. Your character was no more than a bonus to people around. No matter how hard you've worked towards obtaining honorable achievements, or how interesting of a person you where. And at the moment it didn't seem to ever change.

You truly expected, that the minds of your peers would be occupated with a more troublesome matter. But even as the situation called, teenagers stayed true to their hormones. The tingling sense of stares laying on different parts of your body. Awkwardly meaningless conversations, that seemed to be phrases memorized from the same "pick-up" textbook. Nothing out of the ordinary. Most of them put on an oblivious act, in the attempt to come off as having good intentions. However there were a bunch of outgoing exceptions.

One If these labeled "exceptions" was heading towards you at the moment, which resulted in a drained sigh. All you wished was for was some peace and quiet. That is why you hid in the secluded library corner in the first place. But you figured, the individual's eye-sight was sharper than most.

"Hey there Y/N!" Dragging the syllables, Kokichi approached you, leaning against the book shelf carelessly.

"Why did you run off yesterday? That was a bummer. I just wanted to hang out with you!" The corners of his lips dropped. The action, almost making you believe that the male was on the brink of crocodile tears. But in a split second, the expression was wiped off as If It never appeared. Sometimes you wondered, If the shorter male carried around ceramic masks in his pockets. And switched them to correlate with the mood. Such an actor.

"That's a lie by the way!" You scoffed. There wasn't much time for you to observe Kokichi's personality in-depth, in fact you never planned to. But his intentions were so opaque. It was unknown for you, as to why he kept following you around. Somewhere deep inside, you longed for an answer.

"You're pretty boring you know?" Your classmates innatentive phrase, caused annoyance to spread throughout the fibers of your body. What was his point? Just plain mockery? You've had enough of that over the course of time.

"What do you want." A statement, rather than a question. You slammed the book you were trying to concentrate on shut with such force, it rang out through the premises into the hallway. Kokichi was quick to pick up on that, avoiding your gaze and examining his nails. As If they were the most interesting sights in the world.

"No need to get so worked-up, jeez." He briskly slid down the rows of paper-prints, slumping next to you.

"It's not my fault, that you can't see the obvious."

His hefty presence was the last thing you wanted to sense in your free-time. So you decided to escape as swiftly as possible. If your memory was correct, Kaede invited you to her research lab. The girl was surely a better option, than getting upset over this douche. However the same person striked something, that caused you to stop in your tracks.

"I mean everyone" the purple haired emphasized, "They're all so lovey-dovey to you. What a bunch of try-hards." He kept approaching you, menacingly. "And you surely enjoy the attention, you little whore. I can see that in you! I mean you totally rubbed against Shumai today on purpose."

The Supreme Leader poked his cheek in a childish way, that contrasted so much with the words he was producing.

"I wonder who will be the first one? I'd lie If I said I am not invest-" he was cut-off midway by the look in your eyes. Pain, hatred, disbelief. All mixed into one steely gaze. Oma was bringing aloud, the exact memories you've tried to forget for such a long time.

"Aww, are you ups-" Once again the male was interrupted, this time however physically. That slap will leave a heavy bruise for sure. In fact, the impact from your side was so forceful it made the male lose his balance.

"Shut.The fuck.Up." It took all your strength to force out steady words. But you decided not to give Kokichi the pleasure of witnessing you at your weakest. You knew that If you kept talking, there would be a breaking point. With many thoughts overflowing your mind, you stormed out of the library.

Raising himself off the ground, Kokichi put a hand over the place of impact. He hissed, not sure, in agony or delight. Your state, no matter how wicked the thought, it excited Oma. So much pure, powerful emotion awakened in you at that moment, he was fascinated by the reaction. Finally, someone decently interesting. And he wanted to witness that again. Trying to shove away the thought at the back of his mind, that he slightly cares about your well-being. Ever so slight the worry, that it was too tiny for the Supreme Leader to notice. But the seed was planted, steadily sprouting, as the male collected himself to follow you and apologize. Just to hurt you again, no more, no less. He didn't register, how wrong his beliefs were soon to be proven.

#mod junko #danganronpa #imagines #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa x reader #kokichi oma imagine #kokichi oma x reader #kokichi x reader #reader insert #kokichi oneshot #kokichi #kokichi oma #submission

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 years ago

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Can you do a headcanon or scenario for reaper,mccree,genji,soldier where their s/o shows them that there is some fanfiction and headcanons about them?

Genji, McCree, Reaper, and Soldier: 76 x gender neutral reader

What’s up with all this 4th wall breaking shit

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Swearing

Gabriel Reyes

The man already has trust issues, so the minute he sees a ‘photo’ of himself, he’s skeptical. He’s not as much of a boomer as people paint him out to be, in fact, he’s not even gen z, so the first thing he does is check the publish date.

He’s silent, but he’s freaking out in his head.

The date is recent. He wouldn’t have pardoned it completely if it were from around the time when he was the Overwatch Strike Commander, but compared to something recent? Talon isn’t one for going public, neither is Blackwatch, so how the hell would people get their hands on a photo of him?

He assumes the post is something either exposing him, news about something he did, a wanted poster, or some rando somewhere that somehow got a picture of him and was asking who he was.

He’s so consumed in creating plausible reasons as to why there’s a picture of him, that he almost forgets to read the title. Almost.

“ ‘Reaper x gender neutral reader’ ” He reads under his breath. He pauses for a second, contemplating. “What the fuck.”

He knows what this means, vaguely remembers it from when he was younger, 40 years ago. Damn that made him feel old, but this isn’t the focus right now.

First of all, how would somebody be attracted to him? No offense to his s/o, but who would fall in love with a masked man? If only you knew, Gabe.

Second, how-- what? The fuck? People shouldn’t even know of his existence, yet here this was.

“Gabe, you good?” He doesn’t look good, but you ask anyway.

“No.” His response is immediate. He’s not good, he’s not good at all. He’s not even going to read this thing, he’s going to go straight to Talon and find out who the fuck told anybody about his entire existence.

“It’s nothing.” You hold him back from standing up, reassure him with one of your caring smiles. But this time, it doesn’t work.

He’s uneasy, creeped out, and a little angry. Imagine how hard it would be as a Talon executive if everybody knew who he was.

Talon and publicity don’t mix.

“Honey, not everybody knows about you.” Your attempts to reassure him are futile.

Anyway, this results in even more trust issues and some dead Talon workers.

Genji Shimada

“Genji.” You called, patting the spot next to you. The fact that your smile was a little eager and you looked excited made him a bit hesitant. What did you have for him today?

The last time you were this excited, you had something weird to show him.

“Look.” You held out your phone in front of him.

The first thing he saw was a picture of himself. It was a little creepy because of how much detail it had, but he brushed it off, seeing as during his last few years of the organization were Overwatch years. If he were still in Blackwatch he would definitely be creeped out.

The second thing he saw was the title, ‘Genji x gender neutral reader’ “What does that mean?” He asked.

“It’s fanfiction.” You replied.

“Fanfiction? What’s-- Oh.” He vaguely remembers what fanfiction is from his younger years. He wasn’t particularly one for reading them, even with his crushes on some fiction characters, but one of his best friends did.

Then it dawned on him. “Wait, Genji x… Oh. Oh! What the fu--”

He nearly yeets your phone away from himself. If you weren’t there to stop him, he would’ve yeeted it.

He’s confused to all hell. “WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?! HOW DO THEY KNOW WHO I AM?! WHY ARE THEY ATTRACTED TO A CYBORG?!”

That’s… quite the insult to you, seeing as you’re dating him…

Anyway, you literally have no idea either, but hey, his reaction was fun. Genji wondered what they would do if they knew you two were dating. Then he remembered, ships are a thing and we’re a literal ship come true. All the explicit, r-rated, angst, fluff, crack that would be written--

He looks like he’s having an existential crisis.

To lighten the situation, you decide to let him read it. Even though that was the cause of all these problems, why did you suggest this--?

He’s so silent throughout the whole thing that you might even think he’s overheated if he didn’t have his mask off.

When he’s done, he looks up and around the room. Unbeknownst to you, he’s trying to find the ‘cameras’ that are surely in here somewhere. How else would they know about him?

Once he accepts that there are no cameras, and in fact, there is no way that anybody could be this accurate, yet they are, he gives up.

“How are they so accurate?” He sighs, sinking into the couch.

“Let’s not think about that.” You try to reassure him, you try to pull the phone away from him but he holds on tight.

He narrows his eyes at you, “How many are there?”

36, counted them myself. 36?!

“A lot.” Your reply was vague… judging by your look, it was on purpose.

“(y/n), what the fuck.”

To sum it up, existential crisis.

Jack Morrison

“What’s this?”

He’s not startled by the picture of him, since he was the commander of Overwatch, they even made a statue of him. But then he realizes this isn’t any old picture of him, this is a picture of him in the present, with his old grey and visor instead of the usual blonde and young look.

He has to hold himself back from cursing up a storm. As much as he wants to, it wouldn’t help the situation.

He moves from the picture to the title, hoping that it’s either just a coincidence, somehow, or some picture of him from street cameras, even if it was in good quality.

“Soldier: 76 x gender neutral reader.” He reads to himself. “What?”

“It’s fanfiction.”

“What’s that?” Oh, he is such an old man. Even though Reaper is older than him, he knows.

You have to explain it all to him. The definition of the word ‘fanfiction’ itself weirds him out, but to learn that it’s both fanfiction and self-shipping of him himself and the reader?

“How do they know who I am?”

“I don’t know, dear.” You reply. This was not a good idea.

He moves on curiously to reading the contents of said fanfiction. The way he talks, the way they describe how much of a private man he is, it feels like they’ve written him just like he is.

It’s eary, and it creeps him out to hell to the point of sending a shiver down his spine.

“Did you make this?” He asks. He knows you wouldn’t do something like this, but he’s only hoping that you made this only to keep himself sane.

“No.”

Without the protection of hope, his mind wanders all places. This isn’t a coincidence. What is this? Who made this? Do I have to smother the source?

Panic settles in.

This is your fault now, you have to make sure he either forgets this or that the author means no harm.

Panik Boy

Jesse McCree

“D-Darling, what is this?” He lets out a nervous laugh at the sight of himself. How the hell did they make it look just like him? Maybe it was a thank you gift, like a painting of gratitude for his vigilante work, that ought to explain it, right?

Then he read the title, ‘Jesse McCree x gender neutral reader’. “What does this mean?”

“It’s a ship,” He nods and hums, he knows what ships are. His cousin had plenty of them from one of their Thursday afternoon cartoons when they were younger. “Of the reader, the one reading the story--”

“It’s a story?” Jesse interrupts, his brow is raised and he looks thoroughly confused.

“Yes, it’s a story,” You continue, stating your sentences like a teacher would a toddler. “The reader, being shipped with you.”

“W-With me?” The fact that he’s stuttering should be giveaway enough for you to tell he’s conflicted. “Wha-- How would that work?”

You explained again, this time slower and with more detail, hoping he’d understand.

He did this time, but of course you’d have questions to answer.

Why did you think this was a good idea?

“Well how do they know about me? I haven’t done any interviews or nothin’.”

God you wish you knew. Maybe if you did it’d be funnier. “No idea, babe.”

He had many questions but he didn’t want to bother you with them, since you probably didn’t know the answers based on that question. So instead, he focused on the fan fiction itself.

The way they described what he said, it was just like how he talked. They nailed the accent. They knew all his habits, his personality… how the hell did they know?

He puts the phone away and reassures you he’s fine, but you’re sure he’s not fine.

He has trust issues after this, he can’t help but think for at least 5 seconds about anybody around him and their ulterior motives.

#reaper x reader #genji x reader #mccree x reader #soldier: 76 x reader #jesse mccree x reader #genji shimada x reader #gabriel reyesx reader #jack morrison x reader #overwatch x reader #overwatch scenarios #anonymousrequest

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anjuschiffer · 4 years ago

Text

Amira Wayne - Chapter 17

Another chapter! Woo! And yes, I’m still going on with @biodad-bruce-month event despite being two months since it ended :D

Chapter 17: Villain (2)

WARNING: BLOOD MENTION AND DEATH IN THIS CHAPTER

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

Tag: @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek @galla02006 @maleive07

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

Something wasn’t right and no, it didn’t take Wally having to see fog outside Amira’s bedroom to know that.

He had been on the phone with Dick, telling him of Amira’s stress baking when the chilly afternoon became a dark, foggy evening.

Rolls of mist covered the Parisian roads, people yelling out to each other as they stumbled to find each other.

“Dick. I have to call you back.” Wally said as he scrambled around the room in search of his suitcase.

To think he would need Barry’s gift so soon.

“Back? Wally what is-“ Wally hung up when he found the comms, his eyes darting around the room until he found a box tucked under the desk labeled ‘utilities.’

Rummaging around it, he grabbed some flashlights, batteries and some goggles before heading into the Parisian street.

He thought the fog was bad from behind the window, but now standing in...it was a nightmare.

Amira, please...be safe...

Fishing for his phone, Wally quickly scrolled through his contacts until he found Amira’s and began to call it.

The longer the call rang, the more Wally began to worry.

When his call didn’t get through, he tried again, turning on the goggles, taken aback at how high tech they were.

The perks of being rich he guessed.

When he noticed that the night vision wouldn’t work in this situation, Wally switched over to thermal, running into the school across the street and up the stairs.

“Marinette!” Wally yelled, holding back the urge to yell out her real name. But he knew better than that.

He knew better than to yell out Amira’s real identity.

“Marinette! Where are you?” Wally yelled out again, looking to see if anyone reacted to the name. That’s when he noticed a heat carefully walked towards the doorway of a classroom on the second floor.

“Hello?” A Parisian asked him, Wally biting his tongue. Damn it!

“Listen, do you speak English?”

“A little.” The person said back.

“That’s fine. Do you know where Marinette is? Do you know what happened to-”

“She was akumatized!” The person bellowed back, Wally feeling his heart stop.

Amira...Amira is the akuma? She...she got akumatized...by Hawkmoth?

How? This wasn’t part of the plan she told him last night!

Snapping from his spiraling thoughts, Wally cupped his hands around his mouth.

“What caused it?” Wally asked, wondering what the hell happened to Amira that caused her to lose control of her emotions.

What caused her to snap?

“She had a little argument over a boy with her classmate. About a boy named...Jason.”

Holy shit.

“No, no, no, no.” Wally muttered to himself, digging his hands into his hair, hating the answer to his questions.

“Are you-” The person asked, Wally seeing them almost hit with the balcony in front of them.

“Stop! Don’t leave the classroom! Stay in there and wait for La-Chat Noir and the team to arrive.” Wally managed to say, his brain running through every possible situation to help him cope with the idea that Amira was somewhere out there, distorted by her emotions…

Alone..dealing with emotions she never liked lingering in for too long...walking with her baggage of pain...and guilt…

Wait...the person said she was arguing with someone who knew Jason...but how was that possible?

“-can do for you?” Wally managed to register, running up the stairs and walked into the classroom, shutting the door behind him.

“I need you to tell me what exactly happened before Marinette got akumatized and don’t you dare try to cover up any details. If you do…” Wally closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn’t jinx the situation. “This akuma may become your livelihood for a very long time and not only that...this maybe be the Miraculous Team’s last fight and be Hawkmoth’s victory.”

---

Adrien held Chloe close as she continued to grip at his shirt, her body shaking violently as she muttered incoherent words. Tears ruined her makeup, her eyes bloodshot red as Chloe remained curled against Adrien’s shirt.

“Adrikins...you’re still there...right?”

“I’m still here.” Adrien assured, hugging Chloe closer to him.

“Maman and Daddy… I saw them die before my eyes. And I saw Sabrina and Mari...they..they also-”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Adrien hushed, turning to where Plagg was despite not being able to see anything but his glowing green eyes.

After Mari-Banshee caused Chloe to collapse and then disappeared from his sight, Adrien ordered Nino and Sabrina to head back to the class while he took care of Chloe.

Carefully dragging her to the locker room, Adrien began to softly talk to her, holding her hands as he tried to think of a way to lessen the effect of Banshee’s power on Chloe so that he could-

“-help her.” Cloe muttered out, Adrien feeling her hesitantly push herself away from him. “Go help her, Adrien.”

“Chloe, you aren’t-”

“But she needs more help than me Adrien.” Chloe echoed. “I know this will go away once the akuma is found, but right now...we need to do something about the akuma. Who knows how long Ladybird will get here and get rid of the akuma, but we’re here. You’re here.”

Adrien felt as Chloe untangled her hand from his. “I can’t do anything, but you can. You can help de escalate the situation and you even know who she is after. So please...help her Adrien...she’s our friend...who knows how long she can endure it…”

Adrien bit his lip, feeling Plagg settle back into Adrien’s pocket inside his jacket.

“I’ll try Chloe. I’ll try.”

Giving Chloe’s hand a squeeze, Adrien slowly makes his way back to where he last saw Marinette, holding back a scream that nestled in his throat.

“Kid. We need to hurry.” Plagg reminded him. “Because Chloe was right. We don’t know how long it will take Ladybird to find Marinette so we need all hands on-”

“I know Plagg.” Adrien cut off, digging his nails into his palms. “Plagg, claws out!”

---

Dick paced around his apartment, putting his phone to his ear as he attempted to call both Wally and Amira, only to get sent to voicemail.

Huffing, Dick was about to call again when Tim called first.

“Tim, can this-“

“This is urgent.”

“Tim, I’m trying to-“

“Something wrong is happening in Paris right now. Just open the link I sent you right now.”

With Tim hanging up, Dick got a message and opened it, watching a Parisian news station play on his screen.

“Nadja Chamack. Don’t bemused, it’s just the news. As you can see, it’s currently XX:XX and yet-“ Then the camera pans to show the conditions outside. “Our once sunny December day became a foggy night, our reporters are trying to- what? An akuma?”

The station then transitioned into a live feed of what seemed to be a figure walking within the fog.

“This just in! Turns out that this is the result of Hawkmoths most recent akuma! So everyone who is watching, under no circumstance, do not leave the premises you are-“

Nadja went on to talk about akuma protocol when Dick notices something oddly familiar about the figure that walked within the live video.

That bracelet on her hand…

Dick felt his heart sink to his stomach.

Grabbing some keys and his bike, Dick began making phone calls again, hating that no one was picking up...

Or so he thought.

“Selina? Yes... I need a favor.”

—-

Wally slammed his fist against the teacher’s desk, hearing a few gasps escape from the students in the class.

Damn that Lila. Can’t even face the consequences of her own actions.

“Did you idiots seriously not think something was wrong when someone you knew was acting unusual? Even if they weren’t your friend, when someone isn’t acting like themselves, that means you should be concerned.” Silence filled the room. Wally recomposed himself.

This was no time to lecture these idiots. Right now I have to track down both Marinette and Lila Rossi. “Does anyone know where Lila would have run off to?”

When he got nothing but silence for an answer, Wally held his composure. “Okay so no one actually knows this girl. Fine. I’ll look for her my-“

“Shouldn’t you leave this to Ladybird and her team?” The teacher spoke, Wally really wondering how dependent Parisians have become on their ‘heroes’ taking action first.

“My best friend has been akumatized and we haven’t heard a single update about the situation from the Parisian vigilantes. My thoughts? The Miraculous Team is having trouble finding either person and if I can at least help to locate Marinette, then so be it.

I’m not going to stand here and just depend on the vigilantes when I know I can actually do something to help.”

Walking towards the door, he stopped. “I suggest you guys find a way to deal with the mist inside this classroom. Perhaps turn the ventilation system on or something. You rather be able to see each other can keep each other company rather than not knowing what’s going on in the very room you think you’re safe in.”

With that, Wally dashed out the room, not noticing two other people walk behind him.

—-

Lila stumbled as she ran away from the thing that was supposed to be Marinette.

That creature dressed in an ombre dress that transitioned from white to black and whose eyes haunted her was no Marinette!

That was a creature straight from tales she used to hear from the nanny that took care of long ago.

A banshee.

Lila held in a whimper as tears filled her eyes as she heard the akumatized Marinette’s hums, hums that fluctuated between her name being shrieked and soft wails.

“Lila.” She would whisper in a hoarse voice, causing Lila to run even more. “Where are you?”

Lila turned a corner and scrambled to hide behind a dumpster, collapsing her hands over her mouth as she heard Marinette slowly make her way towards her.

Lila shut her eyes tight as she heard the hum grow louder, Lila hating that the hum kept getting louder by the second.

The hum was now right at the corner Lila had finished turning when it came to a halt.

With the foggy streets and the humming coming to a stop, Lila could hear her footsteps nice and clear, listening as her heels clicked and clacked as Marinette walked on the cobblestone street.

Lila didn’t dare to move, she didn’t dare breath as she kept hearing those dreading footsteps. She did, however, wish she had another set of hands as a piercing shriek, in the form of her name, rang throughout the Parisian streets.

Lila didn’t know what happened next as the shriek caused her ears and head ring, her vision becoming muddled as Lila attempted to open her eyes.

She wishes she had not.

As she fluttered her eyes open, bloodshot red eyes looked back at her, a thin smile directed at her.

“Here you are.” Marinette sang in her raspy voice.

Lila felt herself begin to violently shake as Marinette helped her get up by grabbing her wrists. “You know, you didn’t have to make up all those lies to get the class to like you. They just love to throw themselves to anyone if it meant gaining a new friend. They’re just so open hearted like that.

Of course, those types of people are the type whom I’m not fond of, so I steered away from them.

Sadly, you thought lying to them was the best course of action instead of checking to see if you had to lie or not to get their adoration. I could only assume you thought this was the best course of action as it's been your main way of getting attention.

Sadly, you have to pay for your actions this time ‘round.

Didn’t your mother teach you that every action has a consequence?”

Lila watched as Marinette let go of her hands.

“While they might forgive you for lying to them, I will not. You disparage my brother’s name and for that, you shall pay, Lila Rossi.”

She grabbed hold of Lila’s hand, Lila letting out a deathly scream as her hand went ablaze, watching as Marinette’s veil turned pitch black in color.

“Pay for your lies, for your manipulations and schemes.”

Lila felt her other hand go ablaze and soon her heart began to burn, screaming her lungs out as she watched her get swallowed by the ground.

She screamed and cried as she clawed to bring herself back up to the surface, only to feel cold hands pull her down.

“This is your punishment, Lila Rossi. Suffer like I have at the loss of my dear brother.”

The last thing Lila saw before being pulled underground was Marinette’s veil and dress turn pitch black, a vivid black she had never seen before.

Black just like the void that swallowed her, a black that was the only thing Lila could see for miles around her.

She didn’t know for how long she kept screaming, how long she was crying but she knew for quite some time as her throat grew dry. It became itchy, her eyes stinging and she started to grow cold.

She began to walk through the darkness, not daring to stretch out her arms in fear that she may attack her once again.

That’s when she saw him.

Standing there, in the darkness, was a man with olive green eyes and chestnut hair staring back at her.

A man she knew...

“Papà?” She said hoarsely.

She watched as the man looked at her with a smile, opening up his arms, welcoming her.

With a warbling smile, Lila ran to her father, only for him to disintegrate upon her touch.

“Papà!” Lila screeches, running after the dust. Why? Why?!

“Lila.” She heard her mother say monotonously, causing Lila to promptly shut up and stop pathetically trying to get her father back.

She slowly turned to her side, having to look up to see her mother’s pale face.

Was she always this tall?

Looking at herself, Lila realized she was holding her mother's hand and standing before her father’s grave.

She was 9 again.

9...“You can’t keep crying mia stella. We have to keep moving, no matter what. It’s what he would have wanted us to do.”

“Yes, Mamma.” Lila complied, watching as the two walked from the grave, watching how the grave quickly got invaded by thorn covered vines with each step she took. “Bye, Papà.”

“Bastarda! Bastarda!” The boys chanted as they circled her, Lila covering her ears, shutting her eyes as she crouched towards the floor.

“Smettila! [Quit it!]” Lila yelled, holding in tears as she heard the girls in her class whisper and snicker about her.

It wasn’t her fault that her mother couldn’t afford the latest clothing, the latest car or anything new for that matter.

If only her mother were more than just a secretary. If only her mother were someone important.

How she hated that they were able to see through her lies.

She could hear the laughter ringing around her, the chants of her being a bastard and bugiarda [poor] echoing in her mind.

She watched as smeared faces of her past circled around her, laughing at her and began to sing.

“Delilah! Delilah! Delilah the liar!”

“Shut up!” Lila screamed, but it went ignored.

The faces continued to sing and ridicule her, Lila screaming until she couldn’t anymore.

---

Chat looked out to the city below him, clicking his tongue when he wasn’t able to see anything below despite being at the very top of the Eiffel Tower.

Taking out his staff, Chat called Queen Bee, only to be sent directly to voicemail. He tried again, this time using their other mode of communication.

When he heard a click, Chat was about to talk when Bee beat him to it.

“I’m down Chat.’

“What?”

“I was in the area when the akuma struck. I tried to apprehend the Victim, but she got to me first. I don’t think I can...I don’t think I can fight in my condition Chat.”

Chat huffed, picking up a shriek in the distance. Narrowing his eyes, Chat started to sprint to the direction of which the shriek came from.

“Have you heard anything from Ladybird?” Chat asked, almost crashing into someone when he got to the ground. “I tried calling her, but-”

“I didn't get anything from her…” Chat heard a shuddering of breath from the other side. “Do you think...do you think the Victim got to her?”

“Let’s hope she didn’t.” Chat said, realizing where he was. Extending his staff, he went straight to their usual training grounds, glad to be up high again. “After all, she’s the only one who can reverse all of this.

Without her, we’re screwed.”

“I know Chat...I know. But what are you going to do without me? Without her? You need allies now more than ever Chat! Without them, who knows how long it will take to defeat this Victim!”

“I’ll find a way Bee, don’t you worry. For now, rest up. We’ll win this fight, you’ll see. We won’t let Hawkmoth win, not on our watch.”

With that, Chat hung up and mumbled a ‘claws in.’

“Did we-hey! Isn’t the reason why I give you my power to-”

“Plagg, you mentioned a Master Fu before.” Adrien cut off, handing some camembert towards Plagg. “You need to take me to him. I need to-”

“I know.” Plagg said, swallowing the cheese whole. “Something tells me you might need his help for this fight.”

“Thank you, Plagg.” Adrien said, eyeing a bag of utilities nearby. He rummaged through it before finding what he needed.

Plagg eyed the grappling hook in Adrien’s hands, wondering if he should tell him or not.

Should he? Should he tell him that Ladybird wasn’t going to come? That she was the Victim this time ‘round?

“Alright then, follow me!” Plagg said with a smile.

No, he shouldn’t tell him. Who knows what might happen if the kid would be at risk of also getting akumatized and that he couldn’t risk.

Not his kitten...not on his watch.

---

Black.

That is what Amira first saw when she barely came to her senses.

Amira felt herself walking, watching as something else took over her body.

Is this what every Victim felt like when they got akumatized by Hawkmoth?

Amira tried to move her arms, or attempted to stop herself from walking, but to no avail.

She kept walking to who knows where, hearing herself hum as she did, humming as she was looking for someone…but who?

The humming continued, Amira wondering why it resonated so much with her.

Amira listened to the hum, closing her eyes and soaking in the melodies as the hum continued,

---

Wally stood still as he barely made out the figures of the neatly aligned parked cars on either side of the road. Not a single person was in the street, not a single piece of paper dared to flutter within the dense fog.

Only the dim lights of the streetlights and of a few store lights allowed Wally to know where he was.

“Marinette!” He screamed, holding his breath as he strained his ears for any type of noise. When he heard nothing, he walked a few meters before standing still again and calling out for Marinette.

He kept doing his for what seemed an hour until Wally found himself right by the Seine.

The moment he stepped onto the Pont des Arts, he heard the faintest of hums, Wally feeling the edge of his lips begin to turn upward.

“Marinette!” He yelled out, but got nothing in return.

Sprinting to the other side of the bridge, Wally was glad to hear the humming grow louder, but hated that he had yet to see Amira.

“His chirps brightened my days

Talks that would last for hours

My jay, my jay.”

“Amira!” Wally yelled, his head swinging from side to side in hopes of seeing her, but nothing.

The quiet Parisian street taunted him, the rolling fog egging him to follow the only clue he had of tracking Amira.

“One day after you left

For you I did wait

Another gentle night like no other.”

Wally quickly began to follow the song, hating that no type of heat was registering through the goggles.

“I awaited for your arrival

But a visit I did not get

As I approached the window

I saw you there...

There you were.”

Wally felt like he was running towards nowhere, seeing as he had been running in the same direction for a while.

“On the ground

Your blue feathers now dyed red

Your flight towards me

Was a flight towards another place.”

Just where the hell was he?!

“Goodbye my Jay...goodbye.”

As those last words were said, the fog started to lift up a bit, Wally turning to see Amira staring back at him through her black veil.

Her eyes were a dull emerald, her hair long and straight just like it was when they were younger. She wore a black lace dress that seemed to sparkle under the dim Parisian streetlights.

“Wally. You’re alright.” Amira said, walking up to him, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand. He felt his breath hitch. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

I’m more worried about you.

“I’m fine.” Wally tried to hold her hand when she pulled it away.

“That’s good.” Her hand returning to her side, averting her gaze from him and biting her lip. “What about Chloe? Is she doing alright? I didn’t mean to hurt her like that.”

Wally gulped. She had used her power on Chloe?

Were those tear trails running down her face?

“She’s doing alright. She’s still under your power, but she isn’t as in much pain as she was before.” Wally lied, holding her wrists in his hands, ignoring the pain her got from placing pressure over her bracelet.

So it’s her hands he has to be wary of…more specifically, her palms.

“What about the rest of my team? Do they know where I am?” Amira asked him, Wally biting the side of his cheek.

“I think one of them might know where you are. As for the rest, I do not know.”

“I see.” Amira said, looking back at Wally, turning away from him.

“Where are you going?” Wally asked her, watching as her veil flared out a bit. He watched as a grin emerged from her once stoic face.

“I’m going to go check on Lila. You should’ve seen the look on her face as she succumbed to my punishment.”

“Amira, what have you done?” Wally almost growled out, noticing the small rips on her dress, how it seemed to merge with the shadows.

“She got the punishment she deserved. Right about now, she should be screeching her heart out.”

“How...how could you do something like that Amira?” Wally yelled, tightening his grasp on her wrists. “Vengeance isn’t the way to-”

“This was the only way to make her pay for trying to use Jason’s name for her own personal gain! Every action has a consequence, whether it be a good one or a bad one.”

“Amira, can’t you see-”

“If you are here to stop me, then don’t. I already made up my mind.” Amira tried to jerk her hands from Wally’s grasp, but couldn’t. He wouldn’t let her escape, not when she was right in front of him.

“Amira, please! Think-”

“I have. And this,” she lifted her arm ever so slightly, the corners of her mouth curving upwards as her palms hovered over Wally’s wrists. “This is my answer.”

WARNING: BLOOD AND DEATH AHEAD

Placing her palms on Wally, Wally screamed in agony as he collapsed to the floor, his hands grasping on his shirt, his knuckles turning white as his head and chest began to ring in pain.

Wally watched as his vision flickered between seeing Amira walking away from him in her black dress and her yelling out his name as she was being pulled away from him.

Wally watches as she tries to crawl back at him, as she claws at the ground as she’s being pulled away by purple miasma.

Her nails are scratched, her skin peeling off her fingers as she tries to hold onto loose cobblestones on the ground.

She screams for him, her tears merging with the blood that trailed from her head, mixing with the dirt on her face.

Cuts, both new and old were scattered, dried blood seeping from her mouth.

She manages to get up before she’s thrown back to the floor, a scream escaping from her.

“Amira!” Wally yells, trying to reach for her as he feels tears slip from his eyes. He watches as Amira stares at him one last time before her head limps forward, her hair draping over her face.

Wally feels himself stop breathing, raising his head as he sees Joker above her.

Why? Why were they back at Gotham?

His eyes register the crowbar in his hand, covered in blood...Amira’s blood...

Blood that dripped from the same hands that killed his friend, the same feral clown that looked down at him with his feral smile and crooked yellow teeth.

Wally let out a scream as he watched Joker walk away, leaving Amira’s corpse on the floor.

Managing to find the strength to get up, Wally ran next to Amira’s limp body, only for it to turn into mist upon lifting it.

Wally watched as the illusion merged with the mist around him, the mist slipping through his fingers as he watched his surroundings return him to the present...to Paris..

“Illusions…” Wally said, finding himself laughing as he ran one hand through his hair while the other pulled at it, feeling himself still shaking...

This is exactly why he wasn’t very fond of magic...

END

---

Nino jumped when he felt a hand on him, feeling his racing heart relax upon seeing Master Fu.

After having left the classroom when the mystery guy had run out, Nino tried to look for Ladybird, hoping to once again help his friend. But he had been running for hours, not seeing a single person at all as he searched for the Miraculous Team or Banshee.

“Master Fu, what are you-”

“You know clearly why I am here.” Fu said, slipping off the Turtle from his hand, Nino stretching out his hand towards him. “Ladybird and Queen Bee are down for this match, leaving Chat on his own.”

Nino couldn’t believe that. Chat...was on his own? Ladybird and Queen Bee...were out of commission? How?

Placing the bracelet into Nino’s hand, Master Fu closed it and looked at Nino. “Now go.”

“But Master Fu! How are-”

“The two of you are not alone.” Master Fu clarified. “Gris is to join you alongside a new ally. With you four, you must do what it takes to defeat this akuma. If not,” Master Fu lowered his gaze. “Hawkmoth might just get his hands on several miraculous tonight.”

Nino gulped, feeling unspeakable pressure pushing down on him.

Looking down at the bracelet, Nino furrowed his brows, slipping it on. Wayzz appeared before him, smiling at him.

“Don’t worry Master Fu. I will do what it takes to protect my team, the miraculous and the people of Paris! I will not let Hawkmoth win! Wayzz, shell on!”

---

Chat’s ears twitched when he heard a thud from behind him, turning to see Carapace walking towards him.

“About time you came.” Chat said, greeting Carapace. Gris waved at the turtle hero who returned the gesture.

“Master Fu mentioned having a new member. So, where are they?”

“A new user?” Gris asked, wondering why she didn’t get the memo.

“I would like to introduce you two to our newest member.”

The three turned to where Chat gestured, watching as a person with golden horns emerged from the doorway that led to their training grounds on the Montparnasse Tower.

“Hello everyone. My name is Ryuuko, wielder of the Dragon miraculous. I hope to be of some help.”

“Woah, she has a whole katana by her side! Is that allowed?” Carapace asked, stretching to see the black sheath that held the katana.

“Carapace. Focus.” Chat stern said. “It’s our job to deal with this akuma as soon as possible. As you know, Queen Bee is down and Ladybird might be due to her absence.

For this to be a success, Ryuuko, you are in charge of finding a way to lift up this fog to help with the search. Gris, multiply and scatter yourself around the city for any hints of where the akuma might be.”

“Got it.” “Roger that!” Ryuuko and Gris said, jumping off to complete their tasks.

“What about us?” Carapace asked.

“I want you to look for Lila Rossi. She’s who the akuma is after.”

“Right. But what about you?”

“I’ll keep searching around this area. Something tells me to stay put.” Chat said.

He watched as Carapace nodded, leaving him by himself.

Chat looked out towards the city, wondering if he was up to the job, if he was able to shine a candle to Ladybird, now that she was nowhere to be found. Would he be able to save Chloe? Marinette?

Sighing, Chat looked up to the sky, shutting his eyes firmly.

“What should I do, what should I do...Mom?”

#maribat #amira wayne

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the-scooby-gang · 4 years ago

Text

Us... But not quite

Part 5

Summary: after falling thought a portal while they were being chased by their most horryfying monster yet, The Scooby Gang finds themselves in a place they have never been before. A place called Crystal Cove.

Making a herculean effort to not speed out of there like they were being chased by hellhounds again, Fred turned the van towards the direction of the town-that-should-not-be-feasible, putting as many miles as it was physically possible from the creepy vitamin-D deficient waitress nest.

When they no longer could see the restaurant on the rearview they collective let out a breath of relief.

“And here I was thinking that the creepiest thing that has ever happened to us was Shaggy’s British doppelganger” Daphne reclined against her seat, one hand over her eyes, one of her maps on her lap and a GPS on her other hand, trying to pin their location.

“Hey! Like, I will have you know that Tidy is no way as creepy as whatever the hell is going down on that dinner!” Shaggy opened one of his eyes to glare at the redhead right by his side. “Willian is many things but worse than omnipresent waitress is not one of them.”

Ah yes. Willian “Tidy” Rogers was not the creepiest event on their lives but he was by far the most surreal. After all, is not every day that one of your best friends goes to a summer camp and the person that comes back is his long-lost twin brother. But that is not here or there.

Shaggy was on the back of the van in a lotus position, a crystal ball on his lap and his book of spells floating close to his head. While Velma was using one of the computers on the van to search for information on their new location, Shaggy was trying to contact his coven with little success.

“Like, its not working! Man, this makes no sense, Grand always answers my calls. It’s not Tuesday so is not date night and even if they had one spontaneous date, Minerva would have let Neko in charge of the crystal ball!” Shaggy passed his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Rould rhe be on the rarden?” Scooby stopped making his sixth sandwich giving Shaggy one of the finished ones.

“Or the graveyard?” Fred looked sheepish from his place on behind the steering wheel.

Even after Shaggy embraced his wizard-ness back on their teenage years there were still things that the gang still haven't fully get used to. Like daily strolls to the graveyard to get ingredients or to pass through portals and such.

Not that they cared much. Being a wizard was as much a part of Shaggy now as was his culinary prowess and they did not love in fractions. It was just another facet of their lives.

So what that their lover went into the closest liminal space that he could find every Halloween to go into the Grim Reaper Railway to join his coven of witches and comes back with his spellbook magically bigger and his pockets full of magical cookies? It was jus a part of their new normal.

“No, if she was in the graveyard Broomy would have noticed the crystal ball flashing and had gone get her.” Shaggy shrugged, half of his sandwich long gone. Fred nodded his head. He remembers Broomy. The broom may cheat on poker like nobodies business, but he was a good friend and would never just let Shaggy calls go to whatever the version of magical voice message was.

Shaggy was middle bite when the GPS went flying dangerously close to his nose followed by an infuriated growl from their shotgun. Their eyes turned towards their resident redhead who was one pull away from taking full chunks from her hair in frustration.

“THERE IS NOTHING! THIS ENTIRE PLACE IS JUST A GREAT PILE OF NOTHING!” she threw her hands towards the ceiling just for them to fall graceless on her sides, her head hanging in defeat on the backrest.

“Oh, Love” Fred looked at Daphne then at Scooby, who quickly got what was being asked of him and made a move towards the front seats. Taking off his seatbelt, Fred changed places with their canine friend.

Gently cradling Daphne in his arms they seated snuggling one another.

“This place doesn’t exist, Freddie” Daphne hid even further on the blonde’s neck. “GPS is useless. It’s working on our home maps and no matter how much I try to upgrade it; the thing keeps showing me our world roads… or lack thereof”

Velma left her place in front of the computer. Approaching them she calmly took both in her arms and brought them to the back. Shaggy removed his crystal ball from his lap and crawled closer to his friends.

“What do you mean by ‘lack thereof’?” Velma was trailing her fingers thru Daphne’s red locks hopping a little closer to her girlfriend.

“Exactly what it sounds. Crystal Cove is not in none of my maps! The GPS is showing me what should be: a bunch of trees and rock formations. There should have nothing here. No road, no dinners, no town! All my maps are telling me that the road that we are on should be a patch of forest at best or a jagged cliff at worst”

Fred, Velma and Shaggy shared a look. As one they converted towards their purple-clad lover, cuddling together.

Scooby looked at them thru the rearview mirror with worried eyes. The day was going from weird to worst fast. The reality was starting to set in for the young historian and the overwhelming lack of concrete facts to anchor herself was getting to her.

Whoever was responsible for sending them here was going to get their ass bitten, that Scooby promised. He hated seeing his humans in such distress.

Fred kissed Daphne forehead “That’s ok, love. Tell you what, when we arrive at the town we are going to get you all the maps that they have available.”

Daphne sniffed softly “Even the geological maps?”

“Especially the geological maps” Velma gently arranged one of the red locks behind the other girl ear than kissed her temple.

Shaggy took one of the young historian hands giving it a small kiss. “If you want, I can try to magically upgrade the map”

Daphne perked up immediately, her eyes twinkling “Really?”

“Really” he squeezed her hands once more before moving towards the front seat.

Taking the advantage of his lanky body he perked half of it over the seat division. Opening the glove compartment, he removed one of the many purple-marked maps from its neat place under the nail polishes. While he was folding his body back to the back of the van (not after giving their driver a well-deserved pat), Fred had passed Daphne to Velma all the while the redhead giggled over the ease off with they passed her to each other like she weighed the same as a pillow.

Fred and Velma smiled over her head. They hated seeing her distressed in any way. The situation was going to get to them all eventually and Daphne being the first was no surprise to them. After all what was worst to a young amateur historian and archaeologist than removing all the information in where she thrives from under her feet?

Fully back, Shaggy approached one of the many compartments that Fred added over the years. Removing an assortment of colourful bottles from there, he quickly mixed them together with precision and efficiency. When he finished the resulting concoction was bright purple, emitting a soft glow.

“Purple potion for my purple lady” he offered the bottle and the map to the Daphne, a soft smile in his face “Like, just drop it into the map. It will mix with the air from this place and will update the missing roads and locations”

Daphne’s smile could outshine the sun. Like a blur, the redhead bear-hugged the lanky man hard enough to hear clear pops from his spine.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” holding his face in her hands she gave the young chef a long kiss. Shaggy melted, his fingers entangling themselves on the red mane. Slowly they untangled themselves from each other and, together, they started the process of magically upgrading the map.

Meanwhile, Fred and Velma had smiled at their artistic lovers letting a sigh of relief.

“Who do you think is going to be the next one to snap?” Velma said as quietly as she could, turning back to the computer.

“From the way things are going? Me, probably” Fred shrugged, “Found anything on the internet or is it not working as the GPS?”

“Ah no. no, no, no. You are not changing the subject on me now mister, what do you mean you are the next?” She turned to him, a disbelieving looks in her face.

“Can’t you feel it, Honey Bee?” He turned his head slowly towards her with a wide deranged smile, his eyes large “I’m on the limit.” Raising his hand, his thumb and forefinger dangerously close from touching “I’m this close to going absolutely ape”

She smiles at him “Oh, Love. We all are”

They giggled together. If it sounded slightly like it was going to soon turn into a crazy laugh they didn't dwell on it.

“Uh, Ruys…” Scooby turned his head slightly towards them, confusion lacing his voice.

“What is it, Scooby?” Fred moved slightly towards the front seats, Velma just behind.

The Great Dane didn’t remove his eyes front the road. Just ahead of them was a blob of movement, a car, coming in the opposite lane. It was a van. It looked an awful lot like…

“It’s that the mystery machine?” Daphne said with a voice laced in disbelief.

It was a fraction of a second. Just enough for both vans to align. Just enough for both drivers to get a good look at each other.

Scooby would have lied if he said that looking at the driver didn’t give him a small bound of nostalgia.

It has been years seen he saw Fred that young.

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booasaur · 4 years ago

Note

Just watched this week's episode of For All Mankind! Need to talk to someone about it! SPOILERS below if you haven't seen it yet.

I thought we were DONE with Karen and Danny. WHY?! WHY?!?!??! It is so bad I hate it oh mygod.

Something I've been thinking about a lot that this show hasn't addressed at all in it's alternate timeline is that this is the 80s and there has been no mention of the AIDS epidemic (although that was more in his second term)/Reagan's detrimental social policies. I feel like that was such a central part of Reagan's time as president/his legacy, and so viscerally related to Ellen's inner conflict as a closeted woman working so closely to him. Just feels like a very loose thread, but then again this show can be astoundingly conservative in its politics at times. I haven't really liked how they've reintroduced Pam and given that relationship dynamic so little screen time...it hasn't really been doing it justice, but we shall see where things go from here.

Very interested to see the fallout of the moon shooting. The US Marines are clearly in the wrong here. Things are gonna get intense!

Also, I liked that they're adding some depth to Sally Ride's character, by developing her opposition to the prospect of weaponizing the Pathfinder!

Okay, you have hit the nail on the head, in that even with all the progressive points, it can be so oddly conservative? This season especially has been...hmm.

First. I seriously was hoping we’d get at most a serious talk between Karen and Danny about how the kiss was a mistake and the result of a really screwed up case of transference. Instead... It’s an insult to Karen and, really, all the senior Baldwins and Stevens and their friendship.

I read an interview with the actress where she--okay, to be clear I’m not holding her responsible for the story or even for defending it, there were probably Conversations when she found out her season arc and I imagine this was the same spiel the writers gave her but she talked about the double standards and how Gordo was forgiven so easily for his cheating. Yeah, okay, there are a lot of misogynists out there who’ll always love Gordo at his messiest and hate Tracy and Karen and any woman for a fraction of the same thing, but aside from not all of us forgiving him quickly, this isn’t the same at all! If we’re speaking of double standards, imagine Ed as a stay at home dad helping take care of Tracy and Gordo’s daughter and now sleeping with her? It would be correctly seen as gross as hell. I actually do think we can’t always flip genders because some things are different for men and women, but in this, in the power dynamics and caretaker roles here, god, wtf.

I just don’t get why? Is this because she’s holding on to Danny somehow? A midlife crisis? Feeling bored and empty? I actually think if they had to do this for her, show her dissatisfied with her life and wanting something away from Ed, Tracy’s husband, Sam, a good-looking successful MAN would have been the better option. You could imagine him sweeping Karen off her feet, the feeling of being respected and appreciated by a peer. And it’d cause a rift with Tracy but nothing like...her son?? I said this before, but these are characters we’ve already known for a decade and will for many years more. How are we supposed to forget this?? But really, why an affair at all? All the places they could go with Karen and this...it’s so cheap and so forced and honestly, makes me a little more uncertain of the writers in general.

And the amount of screentime it’s gotten! To further NOTHING? What has it done for any character or plot? Unless people find out and it spirals out? But how could this have possibly been the best way to get wherever they wanted, whether it’s a rift between Karen and Tracy or Ed and Karen breaking up or...I don’t know. Molly’s scenes were so good and yet I feel this season we’ve had more of Karen and Danny? Even if not, it’s certainly comparable, and that’s absurd.

Similarly, where’s Dani been? If it had been the other astronauts, they’d be all over this Apollo-Soyuz mission she’s supposedly leading, even at the negotiation and planning phase. Again, we see that conservativeness. How is she still the only Black person with any significant screentime? As you said, Reagan in this period would have had all kinds of policies for which many different groups would have been relevant to show their dissatisfaction. I’m not actually that upset to miss the AIDS crisis on screen, except it should at least be alluded to? So many people died, and so unjustly, and it’s just not important enough for the show, or? I’d even take it being miraculously avoided because of meds created by/for NASA. Clearly they’ve decided to almost solely take the Ellen route to tackle homophobia but that returns again to your point. Aside from Pam’s sarcastic little barb about the Reagan administration being more tolerant of alternate lifestyles, neither of them are really bringing up how specifically terrible he is, in ways unique to them over most other characters on the show.

And screentime again...I mean, how many times can I complain about Karen/Danny, but the way they were allowed to have this long makeout and then the sensual after-sex scene, like, Ellen and Pam were also literally overcome with passion that first night! They can also talk about things in bed! I’m tired of always making excuses for the difference in treatment between m/f and f/f couples. D:

This has already become an essay but one last complaint! The Bill-Aleida-Margo thing. The thing is, while Aleida has a chip on her shoulder at times, Bill WAS a crappy boss? As a person, he was rude as hell, but as a team lead, he shut down Aleida’s suggestions with no discussion constantly, how many good ideas have been lost over the years? It was on Margo to remediate whatever was going on even before this, not just being like, he’s not a people person. Then he should learn or not be a team lead.

But yeah, the ending. I wonder what role Ellen will have in all this, given it was her idea to retake the site earlier than planned.

#we said more dani #they heard more danny :x #replies #sent on 20210409 #Anonymous #for all mankind 2x08 #for all mankind spoilers #for all mankind #ellen x pam #among many other things #karen baldwin #let's just add

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banashee · 4 years ago

Link

Part 2/2 of Tony setting the kitchen on fire for @hopelessly-me :D ♥

Enjoy ♥

...Honey, it’s still fucking frozen.

One day, Clint finally caves.

“Tony. You know I love you, but please - let me show you how to cook. I can’t take it anymore.” he tells him over ice cold dinner. The archer pokes a piece of meat with his fork to prove his point.

Tony nods slowly, but he also says,

“Last time it was burned. So now I cooked it for less time.”

Clint blinks at him, knocking on his plate with the meat, which results in a solid noise.

“...Honey, it’s still fucking frozen.”

“...Okay, yeah.” Tony sighs, shoving the plate away from himself.

“Sorry, I know the last few months of my cooking haven’t been pleasant. At least I didn’t burn the house down yet.” he adds, with a small smile to lighten the mood, but it is clear he is not happy with his results.

“The alarm didn’t go off in a while, that’s progress, right?” Clint shoots back a lopsided smile, before he continues,

“Honestly though, I don’t mean to be condescending because that’s probably how I sound, and I’m really sorry for that, but… I know you’re trying, and I know you don’t like help with things… In general, and I get that. But don’t you think that it would be better in the long run?”

Their hands meet over the table, warm and solid as they squeeze and hold on, thumbs caressing each other. Clint and Tony have been home to one another for a long time now, and they know with a bone deep certainty that they can talk about things without making a personal vendetta of it, no matter how small or big the issue is. It’s just not how they work - what they have is easy going and it always has been.

A casual friendship with benefits quickly turned into more, and after months of pining and awkwardness, they finally got a move on and figured out their feelings for each other. That talk had been halting and even more awkward than the weeks before, but it led to mutual three-word-sentences and a future full of happiness.

Tony smiles, squeezing the other man’s hand as he asks,

“So, you don’t mind having to show me basic shit like cooking eggs without burning them to a crisp?”

“No, of course not. I love you and I love cooking - there really is no downside here if you ask me.”

“Alright, then. Thanks, Babe.” Tony leans forward for a kiss, which Clint is all too happy to give him. The cold dinner on the table is almost forgotten in the next few minutes, but as it turns out, it is the perfect opportunity to start.

“Okay, so, let’s put this back into the pan and crank the heat up. You want this to be warm and cooked through entirely. Then you - Tony… Please put down the salt shaker.”

“I have salt and I am not afraid to use it!”

“Yes I know, and that’s a problem! No, go away with that!” Laughing, the two of them tackle each other through the kitchen, until they end up pushed against the counter, foreheads touching and giggling like lovesick teenagers.

“Will you give up on any harsh decisions regarding the salt?” Clint asks, in a mock-serious tone that is actually a pretty good impression of what Phil Coulson sounds like, and Tony grins at him, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I am small and salty. Never.” he tries to snatch back the salt shaker, attempting to distract Clint with more makeout opportunities. He leans in, pulling Tony close with one arm and holding the salt shaker up over his head with the other - it’s a dick move, but it works. His boyfriends sputtering at the offensive act only makes Clint laugh more, but they need to flip the meat in the pan before their dinner burns once again, so their bickering is interrupted.

A little while later, their dinner is actually warm and not only edible, but really, really good at that. Tony is still surprised that they managed to save it, especially since there have been instances where this would have been simply impossible. But then again, he is lucky enough to have a partner who knows how to save messed up food, given there is a way left to salvage it in the first place.

“What’s the worst that ever happened to you while cooking?” Tony casually asks another night, while he is chopping vegetables into accurate cubes - they’re making stir fry, and the task at hand is easy and repetitive enough to chat away. Besides, he is used to handiwork, so this is totally doable.

Clint shoots him a knowing, amused look.

“...I almost set my kitchen in the SHIELD bunk on fire. It was like three in the morning and I couldn’t sleep, so I wanted to make a dessert with flambé bananas. Well, let’s just say it didn’t go as planned and my neighbours fucking hated my guts for setting off the fire alarm in the middle of the night… That was about 15 years ago, and goddammit, some people still bring it up.”

Tony laughs, loudly.

“Well, thank fuck you know what you’re doing now - imagine the two of us being Fire Hazards together, the tower would have burned to the ground ages ago. Imagine SHIELD on our asses for it. Or worse, Cap.”

Slowly, he shakes his head. No one wants to see Steve’s “I am very disappointed in you”-face if they can help it. To be fair, when it doesn’t come to cooking, and more like, battles or developing weapons, the two of them combined are still a fire hazard. But that’s different, really.

Clint, however, stops chopping with his knife mid air, head crooked to the side as he gently lowers it onto the cutting board. Then, he asks, completely straight faced,

“...Did I ever tell you that Fury has backup-plans, just in case the two of us should be going rogue?”

Putting down his knife as well, Tony fixes his partner in a suspicious stare. Despite everything, this is news to him, and he is about 90% sure that at least on this occasion, Clint isn’t fucking with him. Also, this is totally something he’d expect Fury to do. The man is paranoid, and Tony definitely wouldn’t put such a thing past him.

“Wait what? No, you didn’t. Spill.”

With a laugh, Clint tells him,

“Ever since Nat went undercover as your PA and it was clear that both of us would be part of the Avengers, Fury put protocols in place - covered a lot of hypothetical situations, actually, it was quite funny to read. I think the short version is he knows both of us and our, dare I say, slightly chaotic tendencies…”

With a snort of laughter, Tony collapses against the counter. This is putting it lightly and they both know it, but he enjoys hearing the story.

Clint continues,

“Technically I’m not supposed to know that, but Tasha told me about it. She laughed for like, 10 minutes straight. Me, too, by the way.”

“I bet - heh, sorry i can’t” it takes a bit for Tony to calm down enough to say,

“I bet he put a lot more protocols in place ever since he got wind of us being an item. Honestly I’d love to see that list.”

The corners of his mouth are still twitching, and he wipes amused tears out of his eyes as he keeps cackling away.

“Oh hey, we should do a dramatic reading of that form!” he says then, and Clint is laughing too hard to answer, but he nods, vegetables forgotten on the counter for several minutes.

He only barely manages to stop Lucky from stealing the chicken right off of the counter, which only makes him laugh harder as he tries to hold his dog back by the collar. Once again, Lucky looks like he is judging his humans - even his one remaining eye is pretty expressive.

Once they have calmed down a bit, they continue. Tony is about to put the vegetables into the frying pan, but Clint stops him.

“Wait. Put in the onions and garlic first, let them get glassy and then add the rest of it in. One after the other. Hardest stuff first, softest last. That way you have everything cooked through without having some parts mushy in the end.” he explains, which is met with a surprised noise from his boyfriend.

“Huh, that makes sense. Cooking is logical, after all.” Tony says, as if that’s news to him - truth be told, it probably is.

“Of course it’s logical. What did you think?” Clint asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“Magic? I don’t fucking know” Tony shrugs, but he looks very much satisfied. Even more so once everything is done. The stir fry turned out perfect, and the pasta only boiled over once - the kitchen is a mess, but the food is amazing, so it comes to no surprise that one after one, the other Avengers show up in the kitchen like a bunch of hungry sharks. Food always brings them together, especially if the delicious smells are wafting through the tower.

Apart from the obvious - having to eat, having to help out and later on, hating the SHIELD cafeteria with a burning passion - this is why Clint learned how to cook in the first place. Food brings people together, brings in company.

As someone who spent most of his life either lonely or socially awkward or both, Clint learned early on that if he feeds people, they will stick around - at least for a bit. It is a long standing habit, and although he genuinely loves cooking and baking, because it’s fun and relaxing, the people aspect is a big motivation as well.

Feeding people keeps them around and Clint recognizes that this might be a little sad. But he can’t deny that he likes doing it, one of the reasons being that, making food for someone shows that you care. As much as his social skills suck sometimes, Clint likes to take care of the people around him, especially loved ones.

Lucky for him, there is almost always someone around, here in the tower, to enjoy whatever he spent the day cooking or baking. Especially if either Steve or Thor are home, he knows nothing will stay untouched for long. While those two will eat anything and everything that isn’t nailed down, Clint knows that Tony is usually a bit of a picky eater, but he will try everything Clint makes, because he knows from experience that it’s always good. He does have a bit of a sweet tooth though. Bruce on the other hand prefers savory things, which is why he himself is cooking a lot of spicy, indian food, but he will also happily go to town on a loaf of bread fresh out of the oven.

Natasha, much like Phil and Pepper whenever they’re around, has a huge sweet tooth - whenever there are cookies or cake or anything else, she is the first to creep into the kitchen. Oftentimes, she steals balls of cookie dough and bowls with batter remaining in them. It gets even worse when Phil is around, because the two of them will team up to get all the sweet things - It’s highly classified, but you can totally buy Agent Coulson with sweet things.

Clint knows all of this, especially since he’s known Phil and Nat for many many years. Therefore, he counts in whatever they are likely going to steal whenever he is baking - he’s known their systematic approach for ages now, but he doesn’t mind it. Not at all.

Later that same night, Clint is sprawled out in bed, legs tangled with Tony’s and one arm wrapped around him. His head is pillowed on the other man's shoulder, face pressed into his favourite spot - the crook of Tony’s neck. Restless fingers are lightly scratching his scalp, and the even breathing of his dog by their feet are almost lulling him to sleep. His other hand is lazily tracing invisible patterns on Tony’s back, fingers creeping under his shirt and against warm, smooth skin. The happy hum he gets in response causes small vibrations to travel through his entire body, even when he can’t hear it.

They drift off to sleep like this, and when they are in the kitchen the next morning, Clint asks, as Tony keeps an suspicious eye on the scrambled eggs,

“Do you want to bake bread with me later? We can use it tomorrow for french toast.”

“...I’ll have to touch wet dough, do I?”

“...Ideally, yes. But it’s fun, I promise. Careful, your eggs.” he adds, and Tony jumps to flip them - just in time - no harm done. He lets out a sigh of relief. As it turns out, having someone close to help him get a hang of this really helps. Besides, Clint is a good teacher, and the whole love thing helps a lot. Just spending time together, really - and the compliments from their other teammates for last night’s dinner for example. All of it makes him want to keep going.

“Okay, let’s do it” Tony says, and the happy smile on his boyfriend's face is more than enough motivation to say “yes” again the next time he asks if he wants to bake.

As it turns out, baking is a whole different thing than cooking, which takes him by surprise. Especially since he needs to be a lot more accurate for this, while with cooking, there is at least a little bit of freestyling allowed. With baking? Not so much.

“It’s sticky. Ew. Babe, why? Why did you do this to me?” Tony complains, making a face as he holds up his hands that are covered in admittedly clingy bread dough - he’s not quite sure he actually likes doing this.

“It needs more flour - hold on.” Clint scrapes off as much dough from his hands as he can, carefully grabs the paper bag with two fingers and sprinkles a little bit more flour in both mixing bowls.

“Try again, it should work itself out. If it cleans out the bowl we’re good.”

“You said this was fun… Oh hey, that’s actually better now!” Tony exclaims in surprise, relieved that his bread dough isn’t nearly as sticky anymore - now, he can knead it with his hands without thinking of hacking them off right after. Truth be told, he is starting to see the fun part of this whole thing now.

“See? You’re doing great by the way.” Clint tells him, a warm and happy feeling spreading out in his chest. He is incredibly happy to be able to have this - to have Tony by his side in the first place. Words can’t express how much he loves this man, and he hopes that Tony knows nonetheless.

“I’ve got a pretty good teacher - you should meet him some time. He’s got amazing arms and an even better ass.” Tony is grinning over at Clint, absolutely not checking out those very much appreciated body parts while he does so. They have been together for quite some time, but the attraction to one another has not died down - not at all.

“Oh, does he now?”

“Very much so.”

Cheesy flirting and easy banter is what they do best, and by the time their dough is covered and resting, Clint and Tony disappear upstairs and into the bedroom. They lose their clothes on the way, leaving a trail through the entire apartment until they fall into bed, wrapped tightly around one another and laughing in between kisses and wandering hands.

There is plenty of time to pass until the bread is ready to be baked, after all.

*+~

Prompt 10: Teaching

#banashee writes #marvel fanfiction #ironhawk #65 Random Prompts

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yodawgiherd · 4 years ago

Text

Thunderspear

>>>Read on AO3<<<

I totally forgot to crosspost the new chapter of my story yesterday, blame the leaks and the memes that those created :D

The hospital was busy, as it always was, yet Eren had trouble focusing. Here he was, back as functioning member of society after having a hedonistic break over the weekend. Sure, he lost the endurance contest to Mikasa but with her being an Ackerman and a professional athlete he would lie in saying that he didn’t see it coming. Then again, who cares who won, when the free time was spent doing what they were doing. Mikasa made even eating fun, and Eren smirked when he remembered licking ice-cream from her defined abs yesterday evening. When she complained about the cold, he apologized like the perfect gentleman before dumping the next scoop right on her left nipple.

No, get these thoughts out, no more thinking about the pretty contrast they made, when his tanned skin rubbed against her porcelain one, or the stark difference between the blackness of the ropes and the whiteness of her body. It wasn’t easy for Mikasa either, half a city away, because keeping your mind away from the memories was nigh impossible. Eren was so good with the rope, he managed to create beautiful patterns while making it look so easy, effortlessly integrating other toys into it too. Among other things, it was the spreader bar between her legs, rope around her torso, and Mikasa remembered being unable to move an inch which put her straight to cloud nine. She tried returning the favor, but her ropework was clumsy at best and while she managed to restrain Eren, it was nothing compared to what he could do. He created art with her body and was damn proud of it too. Wanting to see herself from his perspective, Mikasa asked him to snap a few pictures of how she looked in those intricate designs, and she still had them saved on her phone. Scrolling through them while having a lunch break was far from the correct workplace etiquette, but Mikasa couldn’t help herself.

In the hospital, Eren was guilty of the same sin, sitting in the break room while his fingers gently stroked the screen of his phone. While Mikasa was swooning over his bondage skills, Eren told her that a great deal of the act was her doing too. It was Mikasa’s toned body that allowed him to create these beauties, bend her in all those angles knowing that she could take it. She was the perfect model, the peak specimen, with strong arms and legs, incredible thighs and all the lean muscles that bulged under her flawless porcelain skin, not even mentioning the ass that was to die for. She was so strong, yet so delicate, her trusting Eren enough to let him tie her up was a privilege he treasured. What an amazing experience that was, any time it happened.

God damn it, now he was sporting a boner in the break room. Eren mentally slapped himself with a clear message to his libido - back to work. He had a lot on his plate today, not only the usual but in the afternoon he was expected at Hizuru for a meeting with Kiyomi. Only a tad bit intimidated by the old lady, Eren was very glad that Mikasa promised to meet him in the lobby and show him the way because just seeing her filled him with strength. Other people had lucky charms, he had his wonderful girlfriend.

His shift went fine, with only Ymir and Onya doing some mocking comments when they noticed the bruises on Eren’s neck left behind by Mikasa’s affections, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Before long, he was on his way to the agency. Once there, it was the matter of finding a parking spot and going inside, and Eren entered the same world that Mikasa got into.

The lobby was big, much bigger than Eren expected. Luckily, he wasn’t forced to do such a humiliating thing as asking for directions because a familiar figure pushed herself from the receptionist’s desk, where she was leaning, to make a line straight for him. Mikasa looked a bit strange today, her clothes were done in a futuristic cut and the jacket even had small led lights in it. It did fit together with the red stripe in her hair, so whoever made the decision for her to dye it was good at his job.

“I take it that you are working on the cyberpunk thing today?”, he asked when she came closer.

“What gave it away?”, her lips, painted purple for some reason, curled upwards.

“A simple hunch, nothing more.”

She didn’t answer that. Instead, her hands, purple nails too, he noticed, sneaked up into Eren’s collar and pulled down. Yanked down to her height, he was assaulted by a kiss that was most definitely more than the usual “Hello” one. Not one to question his fortune, Eren surrendered to her, letting her tangle her deft fingers into his hair while he anchored himself on her hips. The futuristic jeans she was wearing had little cutouts there, allowing him to stroke her porcelain skin directly, so maybe cyberpunk wasn’t such a bad fashion trend after all. When they finally broke apart, Mikasa was still wearing the satisfied smirk on her lips.

“Any reason for this?”, he asked, getting a firm shake of her head in return.

Eren didn’t need to know about the dreamy look that entered the receptionist’s eyes when he walked in. He didn’t need to know about the “Damn” the woman muttered under her breath while devouring him with her gaze. He didn’t need to know any of these things.

“Nope.”, she thumbed the corner of his mouth, purposely smearing the lipstick stain she left behind even more, “I’m just happy to see you.”

With that, she grabbed Eren’s hand and pulled him behind herself, passing very close to the reception. Petty, but who cares. Together, they made their way up to Kiyomi’s office, with Mikasa effortlessly navigating through the many corridors of the building. Eren was quite sure that he would have gotten lost even after getting the directions, so he was very glad that his fiancé had decided to save him.

Kiyomi was sitting behind a large desk in a throne-like chair, evocating the feeling of a director at the center of her power. What Eren noticed was that there were several pictures of his fiancé over her office, in various clothes, even a framed photo on Kiyomi’s desk. Apparently, he was not the only one bewitched by the beautiful martial artist. Seeing the two of them enter, Kiyomi narrowed her eyes at Mikasa.

“I didn’t realize that you are Mr. Yeager’s mother, Mikasa. Or is there other reason why he needs you at our meeting?”

Taking the hint, the raven let go of Eren’s hand.

“I’ll take my leave, but please be nice to him.”

“When am I not nice?”

Mikasa chuckled at that, pressing one last kiss to Eren’s cheek before disappearing through the door. When he sat down, the first thing Kiyomi did was hand him a wipe, gesturing at his face.

“Your girlfriend left a mark.”

Blood rising to his cheeks, Eren quickly cleaned himself to the best of his ability, getting the purple away from his skin. When he was deemed clean enough, Kiyomi nodded in satisfaction, letting Eren take the word. Free to speak, he decided to straight on tell her what he thought about this whole thing.

“I just want to tell you that I’m not thinking about a career change, this is a one-time thing for me.”

“I understand that.”

“Good, so when do we start shooting?”

“Today? Oh no Yeager, today we talk.”

“What about?”

“You see…”, Kiyomi’s eyes were trained at him, piercing through the mind, “I believe that you should get the most fitting setting for your photoshoot that I can provide, considering it is, as you said, a one-time thing. I want to talk to you and know exactly what is best for you individually, what will help my photographer get the most out of you.”

“The way you say it, makes me think that there is a much more to this job than meets the eye.”

“Most definitely. Anyone can snap a few pictures but what I aim at is to know your soul.”

No, that was not creepy at all.

“Okay…”

Seeing that he was taken aback by her intensity, Kiyomi went on.

“Look at Mikasa and tell me who in their right mind would ever want someone like her to be a model.”

“Are you saying that she’s not pretty enough?”

Kiyomi shook her head.

“We both know that her body was never a problem and her face is flawless - Mikasa is physically perfect. Her mind, that is a different story altogether. She is too rigid to work with, too closed up.”, the old woman tapped the side of her head, “Still, I knew that there was a diamond hidden inside, and I commissioned my best digger to get it out. It took time and effort, I won’t deny that, but the results are oh so worth it.”

Sitting back, the tycoon continued.

“Mikasa is a beautiful soul, and while she has trouble expressing herself when she does the emotions are incredibly powerful. She isn’t my best girl just because of how she looks, but also because of how she can feel herself into the scene, only a few other models can do it so perfectly. I attended several of her photoshoots, and I agree with Dot when he says that Mikasa could be a grade-A actress if she put her mind to it.”

“I don’t think she would be into that.”

“I agree, that is too much exposure for her liking. But this job, this is just the right amount. Mikasa has fire in her, and she can be incredibly creative when she wants to, but she hides it. It’s the same thing as her beauty, she doesn’t flaunt it at all. I don’t think I remember a single occasion when Mikasa came to work wearing something else than comfortable clothes. Also, it doesn’t help that she keeps dressing in that long-dead style.”, Kiyomi pursed her lips, saying the next word as if it would be an insult, “Goth.”

“What’s wrong with being comfortable?”

“Some of us keep up with the fashion trends, it’s more or less expected in this business.”, she sighed, “I won’t lie, it changes so fast that it’s almost a suffering.”

While not so sure about the suffering, Eren was inclined to agree on that first part. Despite her being the ice queen and all, Mikasa could be very playful, if their private adventures were any indicator. Looking back, one could label them as dumb and childish, but he couldn’t care less. He had fun, Mikasa had fun, and damn what anyone else would think about it. They weren’t invited in the first place.

“Here,”, Kiyomi was just saying, “Look at these.”

She placed two photos in front of him, both of Mikasa. In one, she was wearing her workout gear, sports bra and shorts, with her fists raised. In the second, she was in that cyberpunk getup Eren just saw her in.

“This is the first photo we have of Mikasa,”, Kiyomi tapped the workout picture, “And the other is the last one so far. Can you see the difference?”

To an untrained eye, it wouldn’t be that obvious, but Eren was very familiar with Mikasa’s face. In the first one, she was still doubtful about this whole thing, her expression was tight and reserved, even though the clothes she was modeling were something she was wearing practically every day. In the last one, the raven was much more relaxed, leaning on a bike and looking into the camera with a cocky expression, one eyebrow raised.

“I can see that she is really into it now, that you’ve managed to dig out that diamond.”, he told Kiyomi, “But I still don’t know why you are showing me this.”

“So you can see for yourself that I’m not talking out of my ass. I really do want to capture you in your best light Eren, and I am very good at finding it. Trust me with this, I can make this whole thing work. If someone as reserved as your girlfriend could find working for me fun and fulfilling, why couldn’t you?”

The spark that was in Kiyomi’s eyes when she spoke about Mikasa made Eren wonder just how much the old woman loved her leading girl.

“You really like working with her.”

“And who wouldn’t? She is so inspiring! Martial arts were always dominated by men and for an understandable reason. The male body has much higher muscle mass than us women, they are built that much better for fighting.”, Kiyomi ran her hand down the framed picture of Mikasa, almost lovingly, “Yet there she is. Standing in the ring, head held high and fists raised, knocking anyone who tries her on their ass – man, woman it doesn’t matter to her. A female, yet destroying anyone and anything in her way, stronger and faster than a normal human being.”

Mikasa wasn’t lying when she said that Kiyomi can get excited rather easily. Her eyes were full of emotion when she spoke, voice filled with awe.

“She had to work that much harder to get where she is, to overcome the genetic difference, and she did it so perfectly. She is a goddess, Eren, a warrior like no other, and I hope you know that.”, suddenly, her eyes bore into his, “You are treating her with the respect she deserves, aren’t you?”

The chill that ran down Eren’s spine reminded him of the one he got any time Mikasa used her murderous glare at him. God damn it, were these two women related?

“O-Of course.”, he blurted, “She deserves only the best.”

“That’s correct.”

And just as it appeared, the look was gone and Kiyomi was once again an energetic old lady.

“It is very good to see that you understand just how incredible Mikasa is.”

“I know. Sometimes I wake up and wonder why an angel like her would ever grace me with her presence.”

“Would you say that she has a positive effect on your life?”

“I would say that she is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Good, good. Looks like the boy was exactly as taken with Mikasa as Kiyomi wanted him to be, if there was one thing she despised it was ugly break-ups. Those always generated way too much of unwanted press, because journalists loved jumping at vulnerable young people and profiting from their misery.

“Ah, but don’t sell yourself that short.”

Eren’s brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“You, my dear boy, are also fascinating.“

“Why is that? Last I checked I’m not knocking guys thrice my size down on their asses.”

“No, you don’t, but you have other qualities.”, Kiyomi leaned backwards in her throne-chair, “When I was signing Mikasa up, I had those closest to her checked out, so I know quite a bit about you.”

Eren couldn’t help but wonder at that.

“Checked out? Why?”

“I’m very careful about who I sign up to lead my collections. Any sort of past mistakes that could be dug up could end up hurting my brand. And nobody hurts my brand if I can help it.”

“Understandable.”

Kiyomi rewarded his open mind with a smile.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I know quite a bit about you.”, she pointed at him, the gold ring on her long finger glistening, “You were born into wealth, Eren, with the assets your father left behind you and Carla could have been sipping drinks at the beach while drowning in supermodels.”

“Technically, I have one at home now.”, Eren chimed in, but Kiyomi ignored that jab in favor of her narrative.

“But did either of you do that? No. Your mother started a charity and is working tirelessly for a better world while you chose one of the most stressful professions there is. Why?”

“I like helping people.”

“Because…?”

“The thought of someone being limited by an illness or an injury does not sit well with me. I want to free people from the burden, to help them live to their fullest. If that is not enough, then my father was also an inspiration, I wanted to follow in his footsteps.”

“That’s a noble goal.”

“I don’t see it like that.”

“Doesn’t make it any less noble.”

Eren shrugged, but Kiyomi didn’t mind. She already had all the info she needed.

“Eren, would you mind if we turned your photoshoot into a couple one?”

“What do you mean?”

“I think that it would go better if we let you and Mikasa work together, show some chemistry.”, Kiyomi leaned forward, “From what I’ve heard, I imagine that she is a very big part of your life.”

“She most certainly is.”

“Then would that be a problem?”

“A problem? No, of course not.”, Eren ran a hand through his hair, chuckling nervously, “Honestly, I’m relieved that she will be there with me.”

“Very good, then it's settled.”, standing up, Kiyomi offered her hand “Yelena will get in touch with you about the exact date.”

And after Eren shook it and left the office, she picked up her phone dialing a familiar number.

“Dot? I have the perfect setup for this thing. What? No. Shush and picture this - We are going to create a little apocalypse for them.”

A few days passed. The last preliminary match was done yesterday, and in all honesty it was fairly easy. Mikasa breezed through it and put her opponent on his back in just a few rounds, taking the first spot in the qualifier and solidifying her position in the Vegas finals. She didn’t get hit at all really, too fast for the poor guy, which meant that right the next morning she was back at the gym, working on herself. The door to the office opened and Levi emerged, crossing the distance to where she was. They nodded at each other in a form of greeting.

“Any tips about yesterday?”

“Not really, you breezed through the match exactly as I expected. The thing I came to talk to you about is that technique I asked you to develop, have you been working on it?”

“I did think about it, but I somehow can’t come up with anything I need.”, she sat up on the bench, eyes meeting Levi’s, “Any ideas?”

“That’s the thing, we reached the point where you have surpassed me when it comes to fighting.”

“What, you want to stop being my trainer?”

Levi barked out a laugh.

“Of course not, I’ll keep drilling you for a long, long time. But when it comes to this, I feel like it is something that you have to develop mostly on your own with only some tips from me.”

“Fine.”, Mikasa shrugged, “So, want to throw those my way?”

��First of all, I think that whatever you do, it has to be a kick, not a punch. For obvious reasons.”

It was easy to see what Levi meant. Kicks are inherently stronger than punches, and with the beasts Mikasa was about to face, she would need to deliver the most damaging hits she could do.

“Next,” Levi went on, “It should be aimed to surprise, to stagger and to crack the armor these guys have. Like Reiner, you’ve watched his matches right?”

“Yea, when he turtles, it’s like he’s not feeling the opponent’s hits at all.”

“That’s his thing, he calls it the “Armor”.”

“How does it work?”

“It’s quite simple. He’s a big guy, and with the muscles Reiner developed, he can shrug off anything that gets thrown at him in the ring. As long as he protects his vitals, which he does in that stance, he’s practically invincible. Too heavy to throw, too stable to trip. And don’t forget that he trains with Annie, so he won’t underestimate you. At all.”

“And the more you hit him, the more frustrated you get and open yourself up to counters.”, Mikasa added.

“Exactly. So you need something that will shatter his armor, get through that defense and allow you to do damage.”

A kick, one strong enough to get through Reiner’s armor. Mikasa felt like she could do it, but one doubt kept nibbling at the back of her mind.

“Won’t a kick open me up?”, she asked, “It’s a lot slower than a punch.”

“Not if you do it fast enough. Your speed is your best weapon, there is no way in hell you can match fighters like Reiner or Fahkumram in strength. You are already fast, but you need to be even faster and convert that into the kick – speed is force, after all.”

“All right, I’ll start working on it then. Oh, and shouldn’t a new technique have a name?”

Levi’s eyes that rolled up and the unamused look on his face gave her the answer even before he spoke.

“I feel like you are playing way too many videogames with Eren.”

But Mikasa wouldn’t be deterred so easily.

“How about Armor Cracker? Or…”, she tried a practice kick, the air whooshing around her leg, “Wind breaker?”

“That sounds like a fart.”

“You are not exactly helping.”, she frowned at her brother, “Come on, you must have some ideas.”

“A-really-fast-kick?”

“Levi, you have the imagination of a politician.”

Mikasa kicked the air again, thinking.

“Galeforce! Or Stridebreaker! Or…”

“Thunder Spear!”

Turning to where the voice came from, Mikasa saw Hange standing there with a huge smile plastered to her face.

“I LOVE creating new names, you have to let me have this one.”, she said, a polar opposite to Levi’s attitude, “It fits too, wouldn’t you say?”

Technically, Mikasa could see her legs as spears. And the power of the kick would have to be explosive to crack Reiner’s amor, and thunder was an explosive force. In short, it was a good name, fitting.

“All right, Thunder Spear it is then.”

Hange’s smile got even wider, but it was Levi who spoke.

“Fine, whatever. Now don’t forget to develop this Thunder Spear of yours, or Reiner will have a field day once you two meet in Vegas.”

The finals were creeping ever closer, and the monsters Mikasa had to fight would be all there, the ones she would have to defeat to reach the top. To do so, she would have to hone this Thunder Spear of hers to the highest possible quality.

Armin felt nervous when opening his email lately, the feeling caused by the several ongoing dialogues he had with various publishers. His book was finished, and now it was the time to see if anyone would print it. Eyes rowing over the lines of text, his blues widened when he read the title of his newest e-mail. Re-reading it, just to be sure, Armin felt a wave of excitement wash over him.

“You okay?”

The two words almost made him jump before he realized that Jean was there, looking at him over the rim of his notebook. They were spending a lot of time together lately, and while Armin had a suspicion that the entity of Eren and Mikasa asked Jean to keep an eye on him, he honestly didn’t mind. They haven’t talked much in college, since Armin was busy being the glue that kept his two best friends together and Jean was out doing his own thing. He learned a lot in a few days, about the career Jean made in marketing and the business he had set up, designed in a way that it was more-or-less autonomous at this point. As long as he had access to the internet, Jean could manage it from anywhere on the planet. Which meant that the move he had recently, one that was supposed to be a short-term before the whole thing with Hitch happened, didn’t affect him in the slightest.

Instead of answering the question, Armin turned his laptop towards Jean, letting him read the mail for himself.

“Finally! I knew this is going to happen! Who is that again…”, taking the name of the publisher, Jean ran it through the search engine, jumping a few websites to get an overall picture.

“Looks trustworthy, but their marketing is kinda ass. I’ll get int touch with them and see if they would like any help in that area.”

“You would do that?”

Jean smirked.

“Count on me Armin, I’ll make this thing into a bestseller.”

The moment they shared was interrupted when Armin’s eyes moved down to see the clock in the corner of his screen.

“Oh damn, I have to run, I have lunch with Mikasa.”

“Don’t let me keep you.”, Jean laughed, fingers dancing over the keyboard, “And say hello for me.”

One frantic car ride later, Armin was sitting at the restaurant and telling the exciting news to Mikasa.

“I had an e-mail from a publisher. Believe it or not, people actually want to print my book!”

“Why wouldn’t I believe it? I knew you had it in you Armin.”, she clapped him on the shoulder, enthusiastic, “That’s amazing news!”

“Thanks, I still have to wrap my head around it myself, that it’s happening. I wish I could take it as easy as Jean, the moment I told him he was already planning a marketing campaign for the book.”

“You should let him help, he’s a god when it comes to promotion, both Levi’s gym and the Third Wheel benefited from his work. In fact, I think that I have a gift for you too.”

“Really? It’s not even my birthday.”

“The billboard Kiyomi gave me, I want you to have it.”

“I couldn’t….”

Mikasa didn’t let him finish.

“I won’t take no for an answer Ar. I don’t need my face plastered all over it, it’s kind of strange driving past it on my way to the gym.”

“Can I even use it?”

“Why couldn’t you, it’s mine. I’ll talk to Kiyomi and have her set me up with the people who can change it properly.”

“I-… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Then don’t. If your story will have success that’s more than enough for me.”

They talked about various things, catching up and whatnot. One question kept dancing in the back of the raven’s mind, the one that wasn’t satisfied, not even when Jean reported that Armin is doing great. Swallowing the food, Mikasa manned up and went for it.

“Have you thought about Annie?”

Slowly, Armin put down his fork and folded his hands, expression tightening.

“I did. But I still have no idea what to tell her once I see her again.”

The spark in Armin’s eyes, the want in his voice, it made Mikasa realize that she wasn’t completely honest with him about everything that transpired. He was one of her best friends, and he deserved to know the truth, despite how ugly it was. So, taking a deep breath, Mikasa pushed it out.

“There’s something you don’t know Ar… That night... I found Annie after saving you.”

“You did what?”

“ I was so angry, so pissed at her, I just had to see her. I found her in a park, we fought and I…”, Mikasa’s eyes dropped back to her hands, unable to meet Armin’s gaze.

“I almost beat her to death.”

“W-What?”

“I couldn’t stop myself. You almost… You nearly… We almost lost you Ar. I almost lost you. The pain in me was too fresh, too deep, I had to get it out.”, Mikasa’s voice was full of guilt and suffering when she continued, “You don’t even know how much I value you, how much Eren values you. You are incredibly important to us both.”, she clenched her fists under the table, “I know that this isn’t the high school, but I will do anything in my power to protect you, I’ll beat any bullies who dare hurt you.”

Despite all this, Armin could feel that Mikasa had more.

“There is still something you are not telling me.”, he said in a soft voice, making her nod.

“She came to the gym, a few weeks after the incident, said that she wanted to talk to you.”, Mikasa couldn’t meet Armin’s eyes, she stared at her hands instead, “I told her to fuck off. You were so vulnerable back then… I-I couldn’t let her hurt you again.”

“Hey, Mikasa? Look at me please.”

She did, fearful of what she will see in those ocean eyes. Armin had every right to hate her for what she had done, she overstepped her boundaries and in her overprotective manner sent Annie away. Yet what she saw wasn’t blame, and it felt like a giant weight off her shoulders.

“I wasn’t ready to see her back then, so I think that you acted right.”, he put his hand on the table in an offering that Mikasa took, covering his hand with her own.

“Thank you.”, Armin said, meaning every word, “Thank you for protecting me, and more importantly thank you for being honest.”

“I’m sorry..”

“Don’t apologize. What’s done is done, and now we can only move forward.”

Even embarrassed as she was, Mikasa had to smile at that.

“Move forward? Did you get that phrase from Eren?”

“He says that a lot doesn’t he. That and the thing with setting people free from their injuries, sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a….”

“Serial killer.”, Mikasa finished for him, “Eren does emit that feeling when he is like that.”

Thumbing the engagement ring on her finger, Armin had an idea.

“Tell me, if Eren was a serial killer, would you still date him?”

“Most likely, if he was as hot as he is now.”

Armin blinked up, looking at Mikasa’s face that was completely serious as she continued.

“After all, killing is probably not even that hard.”, she clicked her tongue, “I’d imagine it’s like slicing meat, and that is my specialty.”

She kept the straight face for another ten seconds, and each felt like an hour to Armin. Mikasa talking about murders was somehow terrifying, the look she had chilled him to the bone, and knowing that she is the strongest person he knew didn’t help. Just as he was about to start being seriously afraid, the expression broke and Mikasa laughed, hiding her mouth behind a hand.

“You should see your face!”, she squeezed out, “It’s so pale!”

Armin grumbled, pulling his hand back and overall acting hurt for about two seconds before Mikasa snapped a quick picture of him and damn, he really was pale.

“Keep the killing out of our conversation and we can have a nice lunch, what do you say?”

She smiled, picking up the fork again.

“Okay, but only because it’s you, Mr. Big-shot writer.”

He groaned, she laughed again but obeyed and kept the murderous references to the minimum. It was a nice day, yet she had no idea what the night had in store for her.

Mikasa woke up in cold sweat, her hand automatically reaching over to the other side of the bed only to find it empty. The rush of fear that jumped up in her heart threatened to overwhelm her completely, to make her scream out in panic before Mikasa’s brain started working. Eren was at work, pulling a night shift. He would come back in the morning. There was nothing to be scared about. Breathing, in and out, she pulled her legs to her chest and hugged them, forming a small ball. Here, hidden inside herself, she could shield her thoughts from the outside world and replay the nightmare in her head.

The dream was terrible. She remembered Sasha being dead, she remembered her grave and herself sitting next to it, quietly sobbing into her scarf. She remembered being on a boat, going somewhere, and she remembered flying, talking with Jean about got knows what. There was an underlying feeling to the whole dream, a terrible dread and sadness, washing it all in shades of black.

Blindly, she reached out, taking her phone and staring at it. Who could she call to make herself feel good again? Eren was at work, and while he would most likely take her call he couldn’t just sit in the hospital talking to his crazy girlfriend after she had another nightmare. Knowing how he was, Eren would probably take off and come home to her, and Mikasa didn’t want that. She hated feeling like a burden. Without thinking, her fingers scrolled until she tapped a familiar name, putting the phone up to her ear.

“Hello?”, said the sleepy voice on the other end, “Miks? Is something wrong?”

“Sasha.”, she said, intertwining her fingers with her toes, “I just couldn’t sleep and realized we haven’t talked in some time. So, want to grab a lunch tomorrow?”

The girl on the other side laughed, and just the sound of it, knowing that she is safe and very much alive filled Mikasa with warmth.

“Sure, I’ll never say no to free food.”

Hours later, they were sitting at the restaurant Mikasa picked. But while Sasha was content with eating, as she usually was, the raven kept checking up on her friend, the remnants of the nightmare still fresh in her mind. It reached the point where she just had to ask, no matter how dumb it did sound.

“Are you feeling okay? Is everything fine?”

Sasha looked up from her food, eyes narrowing.

“Is this about the dreams again?”

Mikasa pressed her lips into a thin line before nodding, knowing that she was acting unreasonably. Of course, Sasha knew about her night terrors, they were roommates for a long time and friends even longer. Embarrassed by her overprotectiveness, Mikasa looked away and was just about to apologize when Sasha reached out, taking a hold of her hand.

“Listen Miks, everything is great for me. I’m good, my pub is doing well, and sometimes I could swear that I feel something in my legs.”

“You do?”

“Yes, although it’s nothing to celebrate yet, my doctor said that it might be just a way how my brain rewards itself for all the physical therapy I’ve been doing.”

She squeezed Mikasa’s hand.

“But the most important thing is that I am very fine, no matter what your dreams told you.”

“I think I needed to hear that. Thank you.”

“Listen, why don’t I cheer you up even more.”, meeting Mikasa’s confused eyes, Sasha went on, “I’ll call the other girls, have a night out, what do you say?”

Well, why the hell not? It has been some time since she was out, and it was always nice to talk to Krista and Ymir, despite the latter’s double-edged comments. You know what, scratch that – it was always nice to talk to Krista. Period. Her preliminary matches were done too, meaning that the self-imposed alcohol ban was over.

“Sure, let’s do that.”, Mikasa agreed, much to Sasha’s glee.

They got quite a band together, with both Ymir and Krista coming. Even Hitch found a hole in her packed schedule, squeezing this event in. The only one who couldn’t make it was Hange, who apologized and said that she is way too swamped at work to be out drinking right now. With few hours to kill, Sasha and Mikasa hit the town. Between the senseless shopping and raiding all kinds of places, Mikasa found herself laughing a lot, the thoughts of Annie and tournament gone from her head. And when they were taking a break, eating ice cream on a bench, she realized that it was way too long since they had done this. Because knowing that Sasha is alive and well, hearing her laugh, that soothed Mikasa’s soul. When the day was ending and the shadows grew tall, it was time to head to the bar and meet up with the others. Which also meant getting bombarded by Ymir’s “tactics” about how Mikasa should fight.

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, blast them with concentrated energy?”

Ymir made the motion with her hands, imitating the sounds too. Mikasa sighed, putting her glass back on the table.

“This is not dragon ball Ymir.”

“Still, I feel like you are making it overly complicated. You want to kick them, just kick them!”

“I need to figure out the best angle, and have my body put enough strength behind it on its own because I don’t think that my mind can keep up, and….”

“Blah blah. As I said,”, Ymir poked Krista who seemed to be listening to Mikasa’s ranting, “way too complicated. Now Eren, that guy had a lot of interesting things to say.”

Mikasa very quickly connected the dots and realized what Ymir was talking about, her cheeks reddening. Ymir wouldn’t talk about that here, would she?

“What things?”, a new voice asked.

The trio jumped up, none of them noticing that Sasha had sneakily wheeled herself close. She was looking at them now, her eyes wide and innocent, sipping on her drink with a straw.

“What interesting thing are you guys talking about?”, she repeated.

Mikasa stared at Krista, Krista stared at Mikasa, Sasha stared at them all and Ymir was the only one who wasn’t bothered by it at all. She took a casual sip of her drink, a smirk on her face.

“We asked Mikasa if she wanted to have a threesome with us.”

There was stunned silence after. Krista was the one who woke up first, punching her girlfriend in the shoulder, a movement she had done so many times that it was practically mastered at this point.

“Ymir.”, she hissed, “What the hell?!”

Mikasa’s eyes ticked between the three faces in front of her, unsure how to respond to such a statement, and it was Sasha who reacted first. She looked the raven up and down before giving a respectful nod.

“Okay, I can see why you would want that.”

“What?”

“I know right.”, Ymir nodded, wise all of a sudden, “And it’s not like you can’t choose, if you are more into guys, I’m sure that Hitch and Jean would take you.”

“Hitch would do what?”, asked the woman in question, appearing from the bar and carrying her drink.

“Have a threesome with Mikasa.”, Sasha explained.

The therapist met the raven’s bewildered eyes before sliding her gaze over her face and down.

“Sure, I’d go for it.”

“Hitch!”, now it was Mikasa who was hissing, her cheeks red, “You too?”

“Of course, have you ever looked in the mirror?”, the light-haired woman gave her a sly wink, “I’d most definitely go for you.”

“Same here.”, Sasha chimed in.

“Us too.”, Ymir added, while Krista was hiding her face in her hands, wishing to be gone.

Mikasa was suddenly very conscious of all the eyes on her, no idea how to react. Since when did all her friends become so horny for her?

“Listen, I-I a-appreciate the offers, but I’m not looking for anything right now. Eren is enough, more than enough.”

“Hey, no one is pressuring you.”, Sasha said, raising her glass, “But if you ever grow bored of the good doctor, know that there’s plenty of us you can call.”

The night continued in a relaxed manner, now that the unnecessary proposals were off the table. Catching up felt good, knowing that her friends were still there and living their best life. Ymir and Krista were the dynamic duo, Hitch was the one with clever comebacks, and Sasha was the life of the party. For once, Mikasa let go and simply had fun. Because it was fun sending drunken selfies to Eren, Connie and Jean, to let them know how much they are missing. The only thing that bothered her was the way Sasha kept checking her phone as if she was waiting for something. When asked, she just brushed it aside, which prompted Mikasa’s protective instincts to act.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Sasha smiled at her, pocketing the phone she was checking. Again.

“Of course, we are best friends, aren’t we?”

“Definitely.”

“Well, best friend, if you feel so inclined, how about you grab me another drink?”

Mikasa giggled but took her glass anyway, walking towards the bar. And when Sasha leaned back, a smile playing on her lips, her phone decided that it was finally the time to beep. Checking, she could see that there was a text from Niccolo, just two words, but it made her heartbeat rise. Because those two words, that was exactly that Sasha was waiting for.

“It’s time.”

Every pause must come to an end, and the action will resume. The next morning found Mikasa back at the gym, trying and failing with the new technique. The bag swayed with her kick, leather creaking, but it wasn’t it. The angle was wrong. The power was not enough. It wasn’t finished, far from it. Mikasa groaned in frustration, trying again, but nothing changed. She lacked the spark, the something that would allow her to pump out the power required for the Thunderspear. Her body was capable of producing the kick, she knew she could do it, but it was not happening. Maybe she was feeling lazy, maybe the recent victories gave Mikasa too much of an ego. As it was now, she would never break through Reiner. In her mind’s eye, she saw him standing right there, a smug smile on his lips as he effortlessly shrugged off her attacks. Closing her eyes, Mikasa massaged her temples to stave off the headache that was slowly creeping up. She was frustrated, pissed off, angry at herself.

“Need any help?”

She turned, startled, only to meet the eyes of a tall individual.

“Jean? What are you doing here?”

“Hitch said that you will most likely be training again, and I thought that I could go for a workout as well. It was some time since I flexed my muscles.”, he pointed at the abused bag, “And I can see that you are struggling with something.”

“I’m trying to create a new kick that will break through strong guards. But I can’t get it to work, I feel like I don’t have the motivation or something…”

“Here.”, Jean climbed up, jumping into the ring, “How about you try it on me instead?”

Well, it was better than kicking the bag for no reason. It was probably even better than if Eren would be here to help, because while Levi insisted that he has a very “kickable” face, Mikasa strongly disagreed. Her emotional attachment could block her from going all out. Of course, Jean was her friend, but there is a difference between the love of your life and a good friend. Jean was taller than Reiner and way skinnier, but at least he was a human and it was easier to imagine the German tank standing there.

“Let’s just do some sparring, get pumped up.”, Mikasa suggested.

They did so, trading punches back and forth, while the raven tried her best to come up with the right move for her Thunderspear. Jean did his best, with the basic Krav Maga he knew, but it was not enough to even get her winded. Understandably so, she was the prodigy here. A prodigy who can’t even kick hard enough. Gritting her teeth, Mikasa stared at Jean, imagining the blond head of Reiner. The muscles, the sure and steady legwork, the cold expression, the short yet incredibly well-balanced body, the hooked nose and startlingly blue eyes and… wait. That was not Reiner she was imagining. That was Annie. The familiar cold filled her, the one she felt only once, back in the rain when she almost killed her. On that terrible night when she almost lost Armin. The rage was back, not burning but freezing, filling her with ice.

But the last nudge that happened didn’t come from her memories of Annie, that came from Jean’s face. Watching it, Mikasa’s mind was flooded with those strange dreams, the flashbacks from another lifetime, her headache back in full force. She could smell the burning bodies, she could hear destruction. Jean was next to her, dressed in a black uniform, his mouth moving and forming words she had trouble understanding. Only two were crystal clear – “Kill” and “Eren”.

Kill Eren? No, she wouldn’t do that, no matter what kind of different life that was. She would never hurt the man she loved, her fiancé. If that wouldn’t be enough, her heart throbbed with pain when the thoughts of Sasha resurfaced, claiming that something terrible happened to her, worse than the shooting accident she was in. As if her former roommate and one of her best friends died, and that left a hole in Mikasa’s heart. The feeling was still strong, despite the lunch they had together and the night out. Whatever these memories were, wherever they came from, those combined with her rivalry with Annie and clicked together, sneaking through her brain and unlocking the hidden capabilities of her body.

Was it stupid? Maybe, but it didn’t matter. Mikasa knew that neither of these terrible tragedies happened. She knew that Sasha was alive and well, she knew that there was nothing in this world that was forcing her to kill Eren. This remnant of her past life, or a random thing that her mind made up, it was enough to push her over the edge. Just like that, Mikasa knew exactly what she had to do. And as the headache subsided, leaving only the bitter taste of the memories behind, her body overcame its limitations. Mikasa would do anything to prevent such a terrible fate befalling her friends, to protect them she was willing to go above and beyond. Roused by the nightmares, loaded by the unfair and terrible hardships her dream-self had to endure, the Thunderspear was ready to fire.

Jean must have noticed the change in her behavior too, because he stopped attacking, pulled back and went on the defensive. It was not enough. Mikasa aimed the Thunderspear in the middle of his torso, kicking right into Jean’s block which immediately cracked under the pressure. He was sent flying back, falling onto the ropes and sliding down like a ragdoll, boneless.

The drawback was immediately obvious. The kick was done with her whole body, all muscles working together to create such a strong blow. Once fired, Mikasa was hit by a wave of slight nausea as she swayed on her feet, almost doubling over. This wasn’t an attack that could be used freely - if she went for it and missed, Mikasa was open to any sort of counterattack. It took her a sweet moment to recompose herself, get her body back under control and realize that this wasn’t Annie she was fighting but her friend.

“Jean, are you okay?”, she quickly crossed the distance and fell to her knees, looking over his form.

“I... I think so?”, he grimaced, trying to sit up and failing at that, “Honestly, I sort of can’t feel half of myself. Holy shit your legs are strong.”

Scared that she hurt him for real, Mikasa did a quick checkup but her hands didn’t find any fractures. Jean sat up again, this time successfully, giving her a small nod to indicate that nothing permanent was inflicted. Relieved, Mikasa helped him stand, stabilizing his swaying with a hand around Jean’s shoulders.

“I think I finally managed to find the right angle.”, she said, getting a weak grin in answer.

“Glad I could help, but please don’t kick me like that again.”

“I won’t. And thank you, I don’t think I could have done it without you.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.”

“My dad should be around here somewhere.”, Annie was saying, looking left and right.

“It’s nice to have a ride off the airport.”, Reiner pointed out, “Saves on the taxi.”

The prospect of seeing her father again did leave a sour taste on Annie’s mind. She was not exactly sure that she was ready to forgive the man, despite her talk from earlier. The expression didn’t go unnoticed by Reiner, as he poked her shoulder with a grin.

“What’s wrong Annie? Thinking about that Mikasa girl again?”

“Oh my god, are you Mikasa’s fans as well? I heard you talking about her.”

Annie turned to meet the eyes of a young girl with shoulder-length light hair and an expression that was the definition of excited. There was a bag over the girl's shoulder and wheeled travel luggage behind her, indicating that she too had just arrived on the plane. What caught Annie’s attention was a magazine the girl was holding, because right there on the front page there she was. Her nemesis, if you will, Mikasa Ackerman in all her glory, dressed in her fighting gear and with her fists raised, steel-grey eyes staring right into Annie’s. The girl noticed where the blonde was looking, raising the magazine.

“This is one of the earlier issues, I’ve been re-reading them recently.”, she giggled, nervously, “I just love Mikasa so much, I can’t get enough. I watched every fight, every interview, read every word I could find. She’s just so great, isn’t she?”

As if remembering her manners, she finally introduced herself.

“I’m Louise, by the way.”

Annie wasn’t sure how to react when meeting the adoring fan of someone she was here to beat, but luckily Reiner stepped in, leaning over to the girl.

“The only interest we have in Mikasa is how to beat her.”, he gestured towards their little trio, “We are all fighters, here to take the tourney, so Ackerman is just another step on the road for us.”

Louise’s expression turned from an excited smile into a frown and she clutched the magazine close to her chest.

“There is no way any of you are beating Mikasa. She’s going to win because she is the best, you guys don’t stand a chance.”

Reiner grinned, spreading his hands.

“Guess we will see about that.”

Louise huffed, raising her head high and grabbing the luggage behind her. Turning, she walked away at a brisk pace, not sparing the blasphemers any more of her attention.

“Looks like the Ackerman girl is quite popular.”, Bert said, “More than I expected to be honest.”

“It’s not just fighting, she’s a model too.”, Annie remembered, “Appeals to the masses.”

“A model huh?”, Reiner put a hand on her shoulder, “Well, maybe she’ll have to consider a career change once you rearrange her face, isn’t that right Annie?”

But there wasn’t any burning hatred for Mikasa in Annie’s heart. She used the girl to motivate herself, yet she felt deep respect towards her. The raven was the only person as dedicated as Annie herself, the only one that understood the deep need to prove herself in this sport. Reiner and Bert, they were good friends, but they didn’t understand it, they never could. Yet she had to keep her appearances up, so despite herself, Annie grinned at the joke.

“Right.”

In the edge of her vision, a familiar figure appeared, and Annie shifted so she could see it better. Her father was there, waiting, leaning on a cane. He didn’t see them yet, giving Annie the time to study his anxious expression as his eyes scanned the airport, looking for his daughter. Was she ready to face him again? Did she want to? Then again, did she have a choice here?

“Oh look, it's your dad.”, Bert said, taking the choice away from her completely.

“Let’s go.”, Reiner decided for the group, casually throwing his heavy bag over a shoulder and walking towards the old man.

With Berthold following close behind, Annie gave up on her drama queen routine and forced her body to move too, trailing behind her mates.

#eremika #fanfic #snk #aot

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anika-ann · 5 years ago

Text

Grease and Pearls - Pt.3

Dreams Meet Reality

Type: One-shot turned three-shot (because does anyone really want a 17k in one go?)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (main), Tony/Reader, Tony/Pepper

Word count: 3400 or 5100 (yeah, you read it right, see A/N)

Summary: An uptown girl met a downtown guy with a heart of gold. Oh, and he was handsome too. It inevitably leads to their relationship developping… but is there any chance for them at all?

For @cxptain ’s challenge. Prompt: Uptown Girl by Billy Joel

Warnings: swearing (a lot), attempt at angst, ghosting, communication par excellence

A/N: We had fluff and smut. What are we missing? That’s right. Heads up, people! There is an alternate ending to my original one, the one sentence where it breaks is in italics. I hope that makes sense ;) Pick whichever or read both :D Enjoy!

Story Masterlist

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It was bound to happen – you knew as much – but deep in your heart, you had hoped it wouldn’t. You had hoped it would last longer. You had hoped that perhaps a miracle would occur and in some mysterious way, you would be able to convince your parents that marrying you to Anthony was a terrible idea.

You should have known better than that.

The very day you had fell asleep in Steve’s arms after making love – and God, you could still feel him, his touches on your skin, his mouth, everywhere, even in the most intimate places, a pleasant, almost ceremonial ache lingering exactly there, a memory of fire in your belly and your heart – you got caught.

Your parents had been waiting at Potts’ house as you reached it around eleven in the evening, a smiling mess, a sight to behold, and any illusion about the future you had been painting in your mind shattered.

Pepper had tried to take part of the blame, but your parents always believed that you were the faulty daughter in your household and such ways stretched outside your house.

Your father was furious. Your mother was deeply disappointed and even faked a few tears – or perhaps she shed them for real, mourning her reputation, one the family would fight tooth and nail to retain.

You had literally fallen on your knees and begged when they found a drawing from a street artist, a souvenir of one of your trips to downtown which you had only craved to explore-- and by some miracle indeed, you were allowed to keep it and not to have it torn to shreds right in front of your eyes. Pepper’s teary gaze told you she knew you were making up things up as you went and that the drawing, the one that captured beauty you weren’t sure you possessed, meant much more.

You couldn’t even hope to earn forgiveness, so you only asked for it half-heartedly.

What you did earn was a damn chaperon.

In your age! In this day and age!

Her name was Maria and she was truly efficient and strict to a fault. Nevertheless, she respected your privacy and whenever you were to meet Pepper, she would stand just outside the door and wait if you asked for a confidential conversation… which was always, you didn’t need some goddamned stranger spying on you. What the hell.

But truly, all things considered, you had lucked out; as your parents didn’t fault Pepper for your actions, you were still allowed to meet with her at least and to talk her in private.

However, the marriage plans were sped up.

And naturally, you couldn’t even hope to set your foot anywhere near downtown. You hadn’t seen Steve for two weeks, you hadn’t even found his number in the phone book to explain yourself and you missed him.

Your heart seemed to fail in its basic function; when you were lying in your bed at night, wide awake, it longed after ocean blue eyes with a drop of green, strong hands holding you close, and it wouldn’t stop pounding wildly in your chest. In the morning, your heart appeared to be beating so slowly you had to place your palm over the area to make sure it was still there, that it still had enough strength to keep you upright all day ahead.

And it ached 24 hours a day. For you, for Steve, who must have been clueless on why you never showed up to your set date or any time after. You were hurting and your parents watched you suffer along with your sister, frowning at you and scolding you to stop acting like a five-year old who had a toy taken away.

They could never understand. Was that a curse or a blessing?

Pepper was the only person you could trust, only person you could talk to about your true sorrows and her patience never seemed to wear thin despite her own turmoil – after all, if your marriage was to be sped up… her hopes were being crushed as well.

“Pepper… I don’t want to marry Tony. God, I can’t marry him,” you whispered, a cup of tea in your hands, your palms and fingers curled around the warm ceramics, hoping for it to take away some of the ever-present cold your body radiated these days.

Your friend smiled at you sadly, an honest and heart-breaking lift of the corners of her lips.

“I know, honey.”

You chuckled bitterly at the irony. Here you were, stealing her dreamed man, on she loved, while yearning after another, after the one you loved. You looked up at the ceiling, blinking away the tears gathering in your eyes – again and again, barely a day without their presence. They were always there, ready for the dam to broke so they could run down your cheeks.

When you spoke again, you could barely force the words out of your tight throat.

“I… I truly love Steve. I dreamed tonight, about having a little boy,” you whispered, the image still vivid behind your now closed eyelids. He was so damn pretty, your sweet little boy. “Blond hair, pretty blue eyes full of mischief and such innocent smile with a front tooth missing and I was expecting with another--… I want that. I want to have Steve’s children one day and I want Steve. I need him. It feels like I can’t breathe without him.”

Tender hands reached for your shoulders and pulled you into an embrace, soft and careful, yet very unladylike, not proper for anyone to see in public – at least not here, not in uptown. God, you hated it here. You despised it now, truly. And if that made you an ungrateful brat, then so be it.

“Oh sweety, I know exactly how you feel. I’m so sorry,” Pepper replied in the same manner, comfortingly stroking your arm. She sounded on the verge of tears as well. “But you know what your family is like, they would never accept Steve. As much as it hurts you and me… I’m not sure you really have a choice.”

You swallowed against the lump formed in your throat and shakily breathed in.

“Don’t I?”

You thought of your chaperon and wondered… just how heartless could she be?

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It was three weeks after his girl’s last surprise visit that had somehow resulted in her and Steve tangled in his sheets when he lost his faith in her and whatever the two of them had had completely.

Three weeks without as much as a glimpse of her or a word, two weeks of not going to bed without few bottles of beer to keep him company, Steve walked into the shop and instantly knew something was wrong.

The usually loud environment full of chatter and teasing was suspiciously quiet.

“Hey guys,” he called out, trying to sound casual. “What gives?”

“Nothing-“ Thor responded swiftly – and way too quickly. Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’m blond but ain’t that stupid. Who pissed in everyone’s cereal? Buck?”

Steve’s best friend looked up from his work, shorty meeting his eyes. The regretful gaze spoke volumes on its own, but the brunet still sighed, tossing the rag in his hands on the nearest hood.

Steve suddenly wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear the news whatever it was. Dread filled his stomach, a feeling that had his gut twist uncomfortably. The blue-grey irises of his friend hid behind his eyelids.

“I… I’ve been in town this morning, Steve,” he explained slowly, cursing under his breath when he took in Steve’s perfectly confused expression, awaiting a metaphorical punch. “Fuck, Steve—I-eh, I saw Carter with Stark and they were-“ The coil in Steve’s stomach tightened to the point of him thinking he might throw up. “-shit, I’m sorry, Steve, they were at jeweller’s, probably picking up a ring.”

A ring.

Right.

Because she was getting married. To Stark. He knew that—he had been, in fact, informed that it might happen at some point.

But no-- like a fool, he had painted an image in his head, stupid and naïve and even found himself thinking about his ma’s engagement ring – once or twice since he had met his stunning uptown girl –, one he had inherited and was planning to give a woman who would take his heart.

Funny how his mind had been purposely leaving out the fact that the very same woman he had given his heart to was the one who could stomp on it and let it bleed on the pavement.

Fuck, he was a complete idiot, wasn’t he?

Steve swallowed against his suddenly dry throat, nodding few times in acknowledgement of the information, lips in a tight line, one corner lifted in an ironic smile as his blood boiled.

“Well… we knew it was comin’, didn’t we?” he remarked and shook his head with a scoff.

God, he was so fucking stupid-

“Steve-“

He waved Bucky off, stalking towards his own station. He dropped his bag, always stashed with clean clothes just in case, to the ground by the counter, hand blindly reaching out. He grabbed the wrench on the top unmistakably, his fingers curling firmly around the metal.

One swift movement, one jerk of his bulging arm and the wrench was sent flying, hitting the momentarily empty chain with an ominous clang that could only hope to echo the mad rage he felt, sizzling in his veins, eating him up from the inside.

“Fuck him!” he roared, the ferocity of his voice startling even his mates who were familiar with his occasional temper.

His breathing turned heavy as he reached for another tool, flinging it the same way, this time hitting the wall, much to his irritation.

Jesus fucking shit-- he was so fucking mad – at her, at himself, at Stark, Stark who thought he could just take and take, greedy asshole, just like all of those uptown snobs that thought they owned the fucking world!

“Fuck Stark and all of those privileged assholes! I hope they rot in- Fucking! Hell!”

Two more objects Steve didn’t bother to look at flied through the air and hit the chains, the harmless violence not providing him with half the satisfaction he hoped in.

By the time the boss stalked into the shop the check on what was going on – and to yell at his employees to stop fucking around – Steve had been long gone, taking the SHILED bike and driving away until all he could feel was the wind swishing around his head, loud enough to drown out his noisy thoughts.

“Rogers came in sick, we sent him home,” Pietro supplied helpfully, the deadpan expression on Fury’s face telling him that he had none of that shit.

Yet, the bossman sighed and headed back to his office.

“Good, wouldn’t want him to puke all over my fuckin’ garage.”

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She showed up in the shop on week four. Steve was just coming back from a short bathroom break, quickly taking a U-turn when he got a glimpse of her in the overhead door to the garage, wearing black and red elegant dress.

He leaned his back against the separating wall, closing his eyes at the painful jab to his stomach.

Logically, there was no reason for him to be so devastated. He fucked girls before—he liked girls before. So why did he have to be such a missy when it came to her? She was pretty, sure, but there were plenty of cute gals. Steve really tried not to think about the L word they had exchanged, because deep down it had dawned to him a while ago; he was so fucked up because he was in love and then he was dumped by a lady who normally wouldn’t look at him twice, which was something that his brain had been bullheadedly refusing to accept.

“Sorry, he ain’t in today,” Odinson drawled, traces of hostility in his voice.

“Oh,” she sounded surprised and he could picture the gentle confused frown, the slight pout to her lips—shit, those lips tasted like cherry-- "Uhm, do you know when he will be in?”

“Why do ya’ need to know?”

Steve was certain that her frown deepened at Bucky’s words.

“Well, uhm, I need to talk to him, it’s important. Should I come here in few days or-“

“Don’t think he’ll be ‘round here any time soon.”

“Is he alright?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice and it took all of Steve’s willpower not to bang his head against the wall.

Why, just why was she doing this to him? Why would she care?

Now he knew that was cruel to her – he believed that once, she had truly been interested in him – but he told himself multiple times that her looks were deceiving, that she only had been looking for a distraction from her uptight uptown world. Maybe if he told himself enough times, he would start to believe it.

“Ain’t none of your business, princess,” Thor retorted and Steve just knew she winced at the harsh tone, a soft gasp escaping her mouth, that sweet mouth he had kissed over three weeks ago, sweet, innocent and sinful, the music of her short breaths filling his poor excuse of a loft, keeping him fucking going.

“Nice ring, by the way,” Bucky said nonchalantly.

Steve gulped at that. Yeah, he bet it was; but there was no way Bucky was being polite. The venom dripping from his words was a message on its own.

And she picked up on it, naturally. His –not his anymore, not that she had ever truly been – brilliant beautiful girl.

“Oh. Thank- thank you,” she whispered and Steve had to strain his ears like a creep, catching the crack in her voice; he almost ran out hearing it, ready to comfort her, because God, he couldn’t imagine her crying, salt tears rolling down her rosy cheeks - few had when they had made love, but she had been smiling too.

He was sure that seeing her cry without that smile… it would feel the world was ending. Her eyes were made for shining with happiness, her lips made for laughter-

“The fuck-?“

Steve’s head snapped straight when he heard his boss leaving his office, catching him chilling by the wall, very much not working and instead trying not to break and kiss the woman he loved stupid – no matter how stupid that made him. She was engaged. Promised to another, a much classier man… or at least much richer, Steve didn’t imagine his character being worth a damn penny.

On instinct, Steve put a finger over his own lips, wordlessly begging Fury not to rat him out. The man rolled his good eye – the one that hadn’t been hit by hot oil years ago – and crossed his arms on his chest.

“And—uhm, I see. Tell—please tell him I stopped by if he- and that I am sorry for not coming here for so long. He can leave a message with Mrs.Maximoff if he--- tell him I really need to-- that I would like to talk to him,” her voice trembled a bit as she stuttered, but it was clear she had been aiming for a firmer voice and missed by miles.

“Don’t see why he should want to know, princess, but sure, whatever.”

Fury gave Steve another annoyed look and stalked into everyone’s sight. For a second, Steve panicked – was his boss about to tell on him? – but the bulky man only walked in, a professional greeting on his lips.

“Good afternoon, madam. What can we do for you today?”

“Oh, good afternoon, sir-“

“My name is Nicolas Fury, I own the SHIELD Car Repairs. May I be of service?” he continued pleasantly, a businessman in his heart. And actor in his soul, apparently, because Steve was sure he figured out what was going on from the few words he had heard and from Steve’s cowardice and was now putting up a face.

“Mr.Fury, thank you for your readiness, however I was only just leaving. Your staff was most helpful,” she said, polite and respectful, almost a hint of a kind smile in her tone as if she hadn’t sounded on verge of tears only a moment ago. As if the guys hadn’t been jerks to her, standing up for him and his… ugh, his hurt feelings.

“Very well then. Have a pleasant day. Should I walk you out?”

“I actually already offered to walk Ms. Carter out if that’s alright with ya’,” Pietro quickly stepped in, a voice that hadn’t spoken since she had arrived.

“Thank you for choosing SHIELD Car Repairs, Ms.Carter,” Fury’s voice echoed through the shop, complete silence following for what felt like an eternity.

Steve gulped, knowing all too well Fury was waiting for him to come out of his hiding spot.

And sure enough – the boss’ eye found him the moment he returned. “Mr.Fury-“

“For fuck’s sake, Rogers, don’t pull shit like ‘dat in my shop. And all of ya’ – less chatting, less big-mouthing customers and for fuck’s sake, don’t go jerk into the bathroom now just because a girl in skirt showed up. Get your head in the game… and don’t drop anything on your fucking toes, accidents on a workplace are shit to deal with.”

Steve nodded with fervour, going back to his station, even when he couldn’t say that his head was in the game. No, his head was miles away, with beautiful pouty lips, the sweetest smile and a body to write sonnets for.

When Pietro came back, he didn’t say a word, but Steve could feel him burning a hole in his head with how much he stared.

That night, Steve switched from beer to whiskey, just once, hoping to drown out the sorrow that consumed him at simply hearing her voice.

Two months later, two months of Steve avoiding Maximoff’s diner like a plague and dodging Pietro Maximoff’s attempts to have a minute alone with him, a Good Samaritan left a newspaper on Steve’s doorstep. Steve, utterly confused and bone-tired from the long day at work, lifted it and started flicking through the pages absentmindedly as he went inside of his apartment.

And there, right among the obituaries, were marriage announcements, one single photo from a wedding.

She was stunning in her dress, the fabric appearing as delicate and soft as her skin when Steve had felt it under his rough fingers the day she had asked him to make love to her. A smile, crooked and melancholic, played on Steve’s lips at the memory, her breathless moans echoing in his ears.

In the photo posed a beautiful bride with her husband; and yet, Steve couldn’t make himself think she looked as pretty as she had been when sitting on his bed, misplaced, breath-taking and tempting, as pretty as she had been in the moments of ecstasy he had brought her with his loving; for the first time and for the last time at once.

He abandoned the paper on the counter and poured himself a glass of whiskey, bringing it up, hesitating an inch from his lips.

Eyeing the amber liquid, stirring it in the glass, he recalled a movie he had been to with Buck a long time ago. He had never seen people do it in real life, they certainly hadn’t done that at his ma’s funeral, but it would feel symbolic perhaps; the action of pouring a drink into a freshly dug grave was as outside his reality as the foolish idea of a relationship with her, after all.

Taking the newspaper to his hand once more, straightening the picture, he let himself feast his eyes on her. She was radiant, like sun, like the damn sunflowers on her dress the day he had met her.

Shaking his head, he threw the paper to the trash, picture up. Pouring half the whiskey on it, he buried the bittersweet memory of his untouchable uptown girl;downing the rest, he ignored the burn in his eyes and focused on the one in his throat.

As much as he hated himself for it, his last thought before he fell asleep that night was of her, a minute of wonder if she had ever truly been as affected as he was, at least for a moment; he lulled himself to sleep hoping that perhaps she had.

He dreamed of reaching out to Mrs.Maximoff as she had asked the guys to tell him to do. He dreamed of her being there the next time he came in, with an inviting and yet sad smile, a big-ass diamond on her finger… her cherry-flavoured kiss of goodbye lingering on his lips when he opened his eyes to a new day.

He took the trash out that very morning, adding a half-finished sketch he torn away from his book.

It was the last time he saw her.

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Thank you for reading! Scroll to the end of the fic for notes. ….Or? ;)

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◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ Alternate ending ◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

That night, Steve switched from beer to whiskey, just once, hoping to drown out the sorrow that consumed him at simply hearing her voice.

In the night of week four turning to week five, Steve’s eyes snapped open to the darkness of his apartment. Momentarily confused, not remembering a nightmare or anything that would cause him to wake up so abruptly, he groaned when he reached for the alarm clock on his nightstand only to find out it was half past one.

He woke up for no fucking reason barely two hours after he went to bed.

Furious knocks on his door made him jolt, his irritation only growing.

Not without a reason then – some fucker was-- ugh. People were fucking assholes. He was not getting up from his bed for sure.

“Fuck off,” Steve muttered, lying back down face first, determined to ignore-

His door rattled with the force of the next series of knocks and he growled, scrambling to his feet, shuffling to the door and wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“C’min’, comin’, Jesus, fuck.”

Unlocking and opening the door for a slit, Steve stared at the face of his night visitor, absolutely baffled.

“The fuck, Pietro? Do ya’ know wad time ‘zit?”

“No. Do ya’?” the blond retorted, his voice dripping sarcasm and Steve really wanted to shut the door to his face. It was too early – or late – for Steve to deal with that bullshit. “Pack your bags, Rogers, Natasha has a free room.”

Steve briefly wondered when the fuck the world stopped making any goddamn sense, but opened the door fully for his clearly delusional friend. For all Steve knew, Pietro could be having a stroke, he’d better hear him out.

“Huh?” he hummed, his palms massaging his bloodshot eyes. “Da’ fuck are ya’ talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Natasha? My cousin? Remember her?”

Why the hell was Pietro acting as if it was completely normal to stop by a guy’s loft to talk about his cousin, one Steve hadn’t even met?

Steve sighed, humouring the other man. “Yeah? Married some… general or somethin’? What’s ‘dat-”

“Colonel, yeah. She’s the one who lives in Baltimore. She got a room for ya’,” Pietro repeated, still not making an ounce of sense.

“The fuck’d I do in Baltimore?” Steve asked tiredly, earning a look that told him that it was fucking obvious. Which it wasn’t really, not to him.

…was this a fever dream?

“Open your own shop, dumbass, or find a spot in some. Make money for that pretty gal of yours and that little cute as fuck babies you’ll make.”

Steve’s heart dropped to his stomach at the mention of you, fully prepared to rip Pietro a new one to wake him in the middle of the night to fuck with him—but he caught a movement to Pietro’s right from a corner of his eye and his heart leaped right back, suddenly sprinting.

This was most definitely a fever dream. Steve felt his jaw drop, his eyes fixing on the vision in front of him as he entirely tuned out Pietro’s next words.

“She must like you real big if she’s willin’ to sell her family nick-nack to look at your ugly mug every day. And skip town and shit…”

And a vision his beautiful uptown girl was, a mirage his mind must have come up, because there was no way she was standing there, sheepish as always, but instead of her dress, wearing a pair of jeans and a simple red blouse, a denim jacket unbuttoned, hanging loosely over her shoulders. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, threw over her left shoulder.

And shit, she talked too, which made it appear this was in fact real.

“Good evening, Steve. I am sorry to wake you,” she whispered, leaving him stare at her blankly, dumbstruck, breath stuck in his chest.

“I’ll drive ya’, Dr.Strange’s car needs a test ride. Fury’s payin’ for the gas, by the way, the ol’ bastard,” Pietro continued as Steve managed to only watch the woman he had been missing for the past weeks lower her gaze, her teeth anxiously biting on her lower lip, fingers toying with the edges of her jacket. Hers? “I’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon, even have an hour or two to spare. That’s if you start packin’ now, bud.”

The mention of packing snapped Steve from his trance, all the emotions hitting him like a damn truck. Anger, longing, more confusion, restlessness as his girl was standing only few feet away from him and he couldn’t take it anymore.

He took a hesitant step towards her, ignoring the smirking man clearing his path.

“What—what are ya’ doin’ here?” Steve asked incredulously, his inner turmoil reflecting in his voice. She hadn’t showed up for weeks and now-- what exactly was she doing here? “You- you’re engaged-”

Gulping, she looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears; yet, a hint of a smile spread on her lips as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. For the first time, Steve also noticed her shoes, a simple pair of sneakers looking bizarre on her feet.

“To a man who loves my best friend and vice versa, my best friend who has been covering for me whenever we were together before it blew to our faces,” she explained, not daring to raise her voice above whisper. Steve still didn’t understand – not fully, unable to comprehend what was happing on his doorstep. Pietro talking about his cousin, about driving, Fury paying for gas, the woman he still loved standing there as if ready to skip town- “She was too covering for me when I talked to Mrs. Maximoff when she helped me to plan this. Pietro said you would want this as well— but- but if you don’t, I will leave you alone. I-“

The day Steve had met the strange girl from uptown, Bucky hadn’t failed to mention Pietro was the fast one, clearly implying Steve was the slow one.

Bucky should have fucking seen Steve now when she hesitated, unsure of his feelings – he had never acted so fast in his whole damn life.

He crossed the distance in one long stride and his hands shot up to her, grabbing her by her shoulders unceremonially. Before she could react, he pulled her body against his with all he got, claiming her mouth like there was no tomorrow.

He swallowed her yelp of surprise, followed by her happy laugh, feeling tears springing from her eyes, causing him to halt just as she finally started kissing him back.

“But your family-“ he blurted out, interrupted by her shaking her head wildly, hair flying.

“Mr. Ross has an eye on my sister. He is from a good family, of good name, generations of lawyers. My family will do splendidly,” she said with a smile playing on her lips, sweet and watery as tears still rolled down her face – happy ones, Steve believed. He felt the same delight bursting in him, switching from a broody cynic back to the fool in love in no time. “And we might too. We will have each other and I have learned enough to teach—or-- or I can be a waitress if I can’t find another job, it doesn’t matter, just so you are not the only one to-“

God, he loved her. She was so adorable and sweet and was talking about being his and going from basically a modern princess to a damn waitress, because she was willing to be with him whatever the fucking cost, apparently--

And was there really anything else he could do?

He grabbed the back of her neck to connect their mouths again, a hungry open-mouthed kiss, his hand fisting in her hair, because holy fuck, how was this happening, she was here and she was his-

“Alright, alright, smoochin’ later, packin’ your friggin’ bags now, Rogers,” Pietro cleared his throat loudly, sounding only as annoyed as amused. “I have a long drive ahead.”

Later, bags hazardously full and piled up in the trunk and on the backseat next to them, Steve couldn’t stop smiling and yet he felt a pang of guilt, ruminating over everything she was giving up.

She was resting her head on his shoulder, their interlaced fingers in his lap and Steve revelled at the absence of an overpriced engagement ring on her hand, the one from his ma’s securely in one of his bags to take place on her finger one day. She was walking the fine line between the real world and the dreamland, breathing softly to the crook of his neck and she seemed content. For now.

He sighed and pressed what could be the hundredth kiss to her hair that night.

“Doll?” he whispered softly, the question burning on his tongue, the only one he could hope to actually have answered now and not after they would try and started a life together.

“Mm?” she hummed softly, nuzzling into him further, her lips brushing the exposed skin on his throat.

“Why me? You could have any of those-“ snobs “-high-class… uptown guys.”

The smile he felt against his skin had him melt into the seat as he chased away all the grim thoughts about what the future might bring, her regretting her decision and blaming him for her ruined life on top of that list.

“Because I love you, Steve, and you are worth ten of them. My amazing downtown guy,” she emphasized, filling Steve’s chest with the most delicious warmth, his heart swelling, feeling so full it might burst.

He knew she wasn’t just saying that – she meant it. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t’ have been in his arms right now, heading to damn Baltimore with nothing but her bags, little money and few pieces of jewellery.

“I love ya’ too,” he whispered, this time pressing a kiss to her nose, drawing an exhausted giggle from her lips. Yep, his heart was about to burst before they even reached their destination. “Love ya’ so much. My sweet, sweet uptown girl.”

“Not so uptown anymore...”

Steve chuckled as rather than regret, her voice was filled with relief. “I’m willin’ to put up with ‘dat as long as ya’ stay mine.”

She squeezed his hand, tilting her head up, blinking up at him sleepily and softly pressing her lips to his.

“I think that can be arranged.”

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S.R. masterlist

cxptain’s challenge (check it out, prompts are still available - and who doesn’t like the 80′s?)

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Tags:

@wxstedhexrt, @comicshoplife, @elysianecho, @scentedsongrebel, @orions-nebula, @pies-writes-and-more, @kayteewritessteve, @murdermornings, @rinkashirikitateku, @queen-kass-the-writer

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….yes, in the first ending, there might have been a chance of our uptown girl planning an escape and Steve aka heartbroken dummy blew it. But hey, maybe not, perhaps she only wanted to say goodbye like he dreamed of… who knows.

Aaaaanyway.

You are my hero if you finished reading this fic! Thank you so much for finding time to do that, this one truly was a beast – at least when I consider that it WAS supposed to be a one shot.

Any feedback is appreciated, as always – good, bad (if constructive), coherent or incoherent, or ‘just’ a like if you enjoyed and don’t feel like putting feelings into words. Thanks again for reading!

#cxp1k #marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #avengers #modern au #80s au #if you squint #forbidden love #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #grease and pearls #anika ann

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lil-creatorwritings · 4 years ago

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Summer of Smut Writing Challenge July 4: Evening Pleasures [Lancelot Kingsley]

Fandom: Ikemen revolution Pairing: Lancelot Kingsley x Reader Word Count: 1,519 words Prompt: Banging on the beach Warning: Pure, unadulterated smut. There is zero plot. A/N: Part of @voltage-vixen ’s Summer of Smut Writing Challenge. You can check the original post for the rules and prompts if you’d like to join in as well! I'm trying to catch up with the prompts since I posted late, so bear with me! Though the end goal is to be able to write all 15 prompts, I'm trying to see if I can finish it on the 15th. So far, I'm enjoying writing these and I hope you all are having fun reading these as well. Special tag for @plumpblueberry cause it's her mans and she needs more Vitamin D.

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The sound of laughter in the background made you smile as you looked out into the ocean, mindlessly tracing your finger over the sand. Things have been quite hectic around the Red Army headquarters ever since the war with the Magic Tower had ended. There was still much to do in the aftermath, such as keeping the peace and bridging the gap with the Black Army, which also resulted in additional work. You couldn't help but notice the exhaustion written on your friends' faces, especially with Lancelot. Being King meant that he was responsible for almost everything that went on and you worried that he was exhausting himself too much. You had thought about different ways on how you can help them until Edgar gave you the idea of arranging this weekend trip by the beach.

When you brought it up with him, you didn't expect that he would agree to it so easily. But here you all were, spending the last night having more fun with a small party. The past days have been full of adventure and new memories. Even though it was a short vacation, you were glad for the opportunity to give them a break, even for a little while.

You felt something graze your back, looking up to see Lancelot drape your shawl over your shoulders. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing much. I was just admiring the scenery."

He nodded. "It's a beautiful sight, just like you."

Tomorrow, all of them will be back to their normal routines, attending to their duties and obligations. Although you understand that it's simply a part of how things are, you couldn't help but feel a dull ache in your chest. You stood up and stepped into the waters, hoping that it could carry away your sadness. Forcing a smile, you turned to look back at him. "I'm going to miss this though. It was a lot of fun spending time with everyone like this."

He moved towards you, reaching out to cup your cheek. "Yes, I feel the same way. But I missed you the most."

"Me too." Leaning into his touch, you looked up into his blue eyes. "I know I can't do much, but as long as I can stay by your side, I'll do my best to support you."

Lancelot could only smile at your words. "That's more than enough for me."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, the two of you shared a sweet kiss. Before you could pull away, he tipped your chin up and nipped on your lower lip. You opened your mouth, whimpering as he pulled you to him and deepened the kiss. It had been far too long since he was this close to you, the need for him growing even more when his fingers caressed your side.

Your body trembled as a cold wave splashed up your legs. Breaking the kiss, you tugged your shawl closer around you and rubbed on your arm. "I think we should get out of the water first."

"Come with me."

Following along, he led you away from the lively cottage and down the shore until you spotted a secluded alcove by the far corner. It was quite cozy inside with enough space to lie down on the sand if you wanted to. He brought you back into his arms, nuzzling in the crook of your neck and resumed to shower you in kisses. You moaned softly when his hand slid up your chest, massaging your breast through you bikini top as you arched your back.

His touch sent a throb between your legs as you ran your fingers in his hair. "Lance..."

"Here, let me help you warm up." Sliding further down and in your bottoms, he teased your clit with his fingers, rubbing with light pressure. You heard him groan as he realized how wet you already were, sliding two digits inside you with ease. With your other hand holding on to his shirt, you ground your hips against his hand for more. He pushed a third one in, stretching you and thrusting them faster as you gasped wantonly into his ear.

You dug your nails into his shoulder, fighting the urge to give in to your release. "Lance, please... I want you inside me..."

By your command, he pulled his hand away and licked them clean. You felt the gush of your arousal as you watched him before he undressed you of your shirt, guiding you to a nearby rock. Leaning down, you placed your hands on a smooth portion. With a tug, your bottoms slipped down your legs as his hand caressed your inner thighs. Parting them further, you felt him rub his length along your slit before pushing in your waiting entrance. He grunted from your wet heat, your walls throbbing around him as he started to slowly thrust his hips.

Biting your lower lip, you tried to keep your voice down as he filled you with each push. Lancelot tilted your face towards him, kissing you briefly to stop you. "Don't do that. I want to hear how much you want me."

Pleasure spread through your body as he sped up, making you cry out when his fingers circled your aching clit. You rocked your hips in time as he pushed deeper, making you shudder when he rubbed against your spot. His mouth trailed a series of kisses up your back, his free hand cupping your breast and teasing your nipple.

"Lance...!" You moaned his name, your walls squeezing him tighter as you felt your body reaching its limit.

His voice was hoarse, hips thrusting harder and his fingers relentlessly rubbing your clit. "Come with me."

Everything seemed to fade when your orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling as you cried out in bliss. Drawing out your pleasure longer, he kept you flush against him until it was too much, your spasms triggering his own release as he spilled his warmth inside you. The two of you struggled to catch your breath as he gently pulled out, placing a tender kiss in your shoulder before whispering his devotion for you. You turned around and gave him a kiss on the lips, answering him back.

Before the two of you left the cove, Lancelot pulled you in his arms again. Lifting the shirt you wore, he nipped and sucked on a spot above your breast to leave a hickey. He pulled away when he was done, your body shuddering over the memory as he traced his thumb over the mark. "I promise to make love to you before this fades. And when I do, I'll make another one in its place and promise you the same thing."

It was simple yet it filled you with much joy. You nodded, placing your hand over it. "Okay. I'll make sure you never forget."

"I don't intend to." He smiled, kissing you on the forehead. "But you're free to remind me whenever you wish."

Everyone was still there when you returned to the cottage. You could only assume what happened, seeing as Jonah was red-faced and giggling with Kyle about something while drinking. Edgar and Zero seemed pretty sober as they chatted normally, having a few cups of tea.

"Oh, you're back." Zero looked at the two of you. "Would you like--"

"Lancelot!" Out of nowhere, Kyle managed to launch himself at the man, draping an arm around his shoulder. "Where'd you go! I can't believe you would miss out on our party. We should have more fun before we go back to working day and night!"

You could only watch while Lancelot got dragged off by the merry doctor, giggling as he tried to sit him down. Edgar offered you a fresh cup of tea as you took a seat across them. "So where have the two of you been?"

"Just by the shore. We were just talking and admiring the view."

"It must have been quite a stimulating conversation if you were away for a while."

The implication in his tone almost made you choke on your tea. Zero nudged him with his elbow. "Edgar, don't pry into their personal affairs."

"Yes, of course, you're right." He nodded, hoping he didn't notice the blush creeping up your face. "Although I am curious, isn't that King Lancelot's shirt you're currently wearing?"

"It was cold so he gave it to me."

"Ah, I see. And your hair..."

"The wind messed it up as we were coming back."

"Really?" Zero tilted his head. "I didn't feel--"

"You know, I'm feeling quite tired, so I think I'll have Lance escort me back to the hotel." You put the empty cup down and shot Edgar a look. He only smiled at you, though you knew better than to give him more fuel to tease you with. As you left to rescue your lover from the two inebriated men, you heard Edgar chuckle while the other one asked him what was going on. Lancelot was more than happy to accompany you, leaving Jonah to discuss the intricacies of eating custard cakes with Kyle.

#ikemen revolution #lancelot kingsley #summer of smut challenge #summer of smut writing challenge #i had an au idea but i wasnt committed to fleshing it out so have this instead lolol #xposted on ao3

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notveryglittery · 5 years ago

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we could fall through december

summary: winter made everything so slow. roman didn’t think it fair. ship: romantic roceit (roman/deceit) / wc: 1,600 warnings: sympathetic deceit, self-doubt/hatred, seasonal affective disorder, emotional outburst. let me know if i need to add anything. a/n: first fic of 2020 and it’s a gift!! feels good, feels organic. hope you like this, @rusted-but-golden <3

read on ao3 | @fandersfic-roceit

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Roman wondered what it was keeping him from getting out of bed.

Was it the “loss of interest?” Maybe it was the “sleep deprivation.” It just as well could have been the “lack of concentration.” Knowing his luck, it was all of the above. It was every symptom Google had listed, the apathy and the mood swings and the fatigue. He had so many things to do. There was plenty of time to do them. It was barely even noon yet which meant he had the entire day to finish the projects he’d started…

The clock flashed mockingly at him, reading 3:27. The projects he’d started had been ages ago. He couldn’t remember the last time he had picked them up. He wasn’t even sure what the date was.

Roman rolled over, burying his face into his pillow. It made breathing unnecessarily difficult. Kind of like how everything else was unnecessarily difficult. Like, why couldn’t he just kick the blankets off and get his feet on the ground? He was a prince! He was a knight! He was tough, self-assured, resilient! He had faced monsters larger than this. He faced blows to his ego like this daily.

Why did the lack of sunshine make so much of a difference?

Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty of sunshine in his life already! Patton himself might as well have counted as one’s regular dose of vitamin D. Sometimes, Roman was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of Virgil’s smile or to hear a rare but treasured laugh from Logan. Those alone ought to have been enough to combat any gloomy day.

Finally lifting his head, Roman narrowed his eyes, squinting out the window. Not to mention, Thomas lived in Florida! The Mindscape should have reflected that. They barely had winter! It was more like extended fall. It didn’t even snow or rain (save for their consistent 3pm storm that lasted no more than an hour every day). Sure, the sun was obscured often by cloud cover but… well, it was still there! He had no excuse to be all mopey and sluggish just because the temperature had dropped.

…

Maybe he ought to just take a nap. Roman blinked, hard, and released a frustrated groan. With more effort than he’d care to admit, he lifted his arm and scrubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes, which had, quite rudely, begun to burn suddenly with tears. This was so stupid! Forcing himself to sit up felt like a herculean task, but he shoved the covers away and reached blindly for his bedside table. Instead of grabbing a tissue, though, his uncoordinated movements instead just knocked the box of Kleenex to the floor.

“Oh, come on!” He snapped, choking back a sob.

A knock sounded at the door.

“I’m busy,” he called back, without hesitation.

“You’re lying,” responded the visitor.

Roman muttered a curse under his breath. Any other day, he’d be delighted to see his beloved. As it were, he’d been avoiding Deceit just as much as he’d been avoiding everyone else. Was it a good idea to isolate himself when there was a figurative (might as well have been literal) storm cloud hovering over his head? Of course not. Not like he ever had any good ideas to begin with, anyway.

“Roman,” Deceit purred from the other side of the door.

“Fine, fine,” Roman sighed, unlocking the door with a halfhearted snap of his fingers. “Come in, then.”

At least Deceit’s arrival had distracted him from crying any more. Running a hand through his hair to try and tame his bedhead, Roman watched as Deceit let himself in. He closed the door gently behind him. He looked as exquisite as always, not a hair or thread out of place. He was carrying two containers.

“Move over,” Deceit said, seating himself on the mattress without waiting.

He set the tupperware down and turned to Roman. His eyes scanned over Roman’s face. A lot of good his poker face did him when Roman was intimately aware of every one of Deceit’s expressions and facial tics by now.

“Hi,” Deceit said softly.

“Hey,” Roman replied, muted.

Roman shifted, pulling the sheets more tightly around his waist. God, he hated winter. It was so cold. He didn’t even have the energy to conjure a space heater or electric blankets.

“Brought you lunch,” Deceit offered, picking one of the meals up and prying the lid off.

The container was full of grilled cheese sandwiches, cut into hearts. Roman looked at Deceit, unable to resist grinning a little bit.

“Patton insisted on helping,” Deceit grumbled.

Roman reached for the other and found it filled with tomato bisque. It was warm in his hands. Without a care in the world, he lifted the bowl to his mouth and drank the soup straight from it. His arms ached doing so but damn if it didn’t taste good.

“There are spoons, you know!” Deceit said, scowling.

Roman licked his lips. “Sorry.”

They ate in relative silence after that. Sometimes they took turns dipping the grilled cheeses into the soup. At one point, Roman shyly held up one of his half-eaten heart shaped sandwiches and Deceit rolled his eyes as he held his own half up against Roman’s. Deceit would talk occasionally; about Virgil and Patton taking up the living room for a blanket fort that no one else was allowed in; about Thomas and Joan’s latest additions to Reasons to Smile; about the debate he and Logan had recently regarding whether or not Pluto was a planet.

“Did he end it with viva la Pluto, fuck you?” Roman asked, reaching forward to… His fingers twitched and he pulled back, looking away.

“Of course he did,” Deceit answered. He waved a hand and the containers disappeared. A heated blanket appeared in their place. “Come here, then.”

Roman hesitated. Deceit twirled a finger in the air, changing into comfy loungewear. The next movement was directed at Roman, whose pajamas were replaced with clean ones that smelled just slightly of lavender. Deceit shoved the blanket into Roman’s lap.

God, again with the stupid tears—

“Shh,” Deceit hushed him, hands coming up to cradle Roman’s face gently. “I know. It’s okay.”

“It isn’t,” Roman croaked, allowing himself to curl his fingers around one of Deceit’s wrists. “I’m supposed to be str… stronger than this.”

“Is Patton weak when he has his Days?”

“Of course not,” Roman defended, vehemently.

“Surely, Virgil is when he panics over the tiniest of things.”

“He isn't!”

“Then why, Roman, would you think yourself weak for this?”

“It’s just a lack of sunlight,” Roman scoffed, dropping his hand to his lap, where he proceeded to pick at his chipped nail polish. He tried to turn away, tried to break their locked gaze. He was pathetic enough without having to see Deceit’s pitying expression.

“Ro,” Deceit interrupted those thoughts, tone scolding. He let Roman go, knowing better than to keep his hold when it wasn’t wanted. “Logan’s with Thomas right now but don’t think for a second that I won’t call him here if that’s what it takes.”

“We’re not going to bother him with this—”

“Bother?”

“You know what I mean!”

“Actually, I don’t,” Deceit disagreed, sneering. He hated when it came to that. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

“The first result for "things people also ask" when you search for seasonal affective disorder is whether or not it’s real,” Roman snapped. “And I’m not real, not technically, so how can something like seasonal fucking depression affect me!”

Roman gestured towards the floor to ceiling windows that comprised one wall of his room. The sky was bright blue. “Even if it did, I have complete control over the Fantasy Realm. I could just pop in for a few hours of basking in the sunshine and I’d be all better! I can’t even do that, though!”

“Dearheart, you know vitamin D in the Fantasy Realm would work just as well as hugs and food do.” Deceit tried not to think about the last time Roman had forgotten this. It’d been… frightening, to say the least.

“They literally have lamps that do the same thing but go off I guess.”

“Alright.” Deceit said abruptly.

He grabbed the heated blanket and draped it over Roman’s shoulders. Then, with perhaps more force than necessary, he pushed Roman back down onto the pillows.

“Hey!” Roman shouted, not appreciating being manhandled, thank you very much.

Deceit didn’t answer and instead just sprawled himself on top of Roman’s chest. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but whenever you start to talk bad about yourself, one of the reasons is because you’re touch-starved.”

“I am not—!” Roman would have finished his sentence if Deceit hadn’t buried a hand into his hair and scraped his nails along his scalp. Goosebumps erupted on his arms and at the back of his neck. “That…” Roman’s eyes slid shut. “That is cheating.”

“We’re not done talking about this,” Deceit promised, carding his fingers through Roman’s locks. “Right now, though, I think you could just use some physical affection and a nap.”

“I’m…” Roman sighed, melting under Deceit’s gentle touches.

“Hmm?” Deceit hummed, shifting so that he was a bit more comfortable and so that Roman could still breathe easily. “What is it, my articulate amor?”

“M’sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Deceit insisted, leaning up just close enough to press a kiss to Roman’s jaw. He tucked his face into the crook of Roman’s neck.

“... Okay,” Roman agreed haltingly. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you, your highness. Rest now.”

Whatever Roman had wanted to say was overtaken by a huge yawn. He shuffled as best he could further under the blankets, warmth wrapped around his shoulders and laid reassuringly on top of him. The idea of returning to this discussion scared him more than he thought it ought to but… He supposed he could work through it if he had someone so secure and patient like Deceit to help him.

#sanders sides fan fiction #romantic roceit #roceit #roceit fan fiction #ts deceit #roman sanders #deceit sanders #dani writes

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nanabrainrot · 4 years ago

Note

I saw you take requests and I was wondering if you would write for the abbé, perhaps him meeting with a girl in secret, like him pining after her but she is unsure. :-)

Hello!!! Thank you for requesting me, sorry about the long wait my life has truly kicked my ass recently for a lot of personal reasons I hope you understand ! :p I don’t know how much you imagined it like this but I hope it lives up to your expectations :D !

Pairing: Abbe de Coulmier/Laundress!Reader

Warning: some adult words, mentions of m*sturbation, Marquis being gross

Two Steps Behind

The Abbe de Coulmier was blessed with 20/20 vision.

Of all his far and few faults (in your eyes, there were none), the Abbe felt God’s second biggest blessing to him was his vision. He treated many a patient with poor vision, the elderly, sometimes patients with no vision at all. His eyes could see the curves of the autumn leaves, the dew of the grass, count all the clouds in the sky, but he’s give it all if it meant he could do more than stare at you.

The first biggest blessing God gave him was even the opportunity to meet such a maiden as you; God-fearing and simple, to the point with patients and always concerned for the well-being of others. Your words were far and few, opting for a route of near silence, so much so the Abbe thought you were mute for some time. Yet, here you are, chit chattering as if this was natural. In his heart, he knows it is because you are comfortable with him. Just not comfortable enough.

“I prefer not to tend to the Marquis’ sheets. Once I collected them and they had some sticky, white residue on them and he made some lewd comment to me on it... he makes a fool of mankind by inspiring acts of lust across France. I want nothing to do with him,” you quipped freely, a rare thing to see as you were so withdrawn that getting a reaction out of you was wildly out of character, as you paced the floor of his office as he watched you at his desk. The Marquis only managed a reaction, at the expense of your temper which quivered under the less than appropriate insinuation of the Marquis. You knew you touched his... ejaculate on his sheets when you collected them. You ushered the gross sheets to another laundress and scurried off to throw up outside in the courtyard.

He was foul. You were virginal, as your mother expected you to be, trained you to be a wife and a mother since you knew how to think. It was dizzying and disheartening that your brothers were allowed to become law makers, authors, sheriffs, all inspired by her, but you were bound to meet a man and come to her, swollen with grandchildren she begs you for. “...it’s inappropriate, Abbe,” you said softer, stopping your pacing, opting to stand still near his desk, face lost in thought. You bit your nails a bit, staring off. You hated the idea of fulfilling your mother’s wish, but you knew in your heart you wanted it too, a result of your own love or her conditioning you knew not and preferred not to know. You never had even thought about a man’s ejaculate until you so unfortunately touched the Marquis’ soiled sheets. Perhaps it would have gotten a different reaction if you collected the Abbe’s sheets, soiled with his own ejaculate for you to collect and fix like a wife would fix their sheets in the yard after soiling them after making love.

That was a filthy thought to think. He was a man of God, at least you liked to think.

“I can discuss with him punishments if you please, darling,” he inquires, voice tinted with the slightest bit of rage that he always tried his best to conceal. It was hard with the Marquis. The Marquis was fine to be disgusting and crude in private, but getting you involved was a different breed of foul behavior.

“No, no, it’s alright, Abbe. Just... have another laundress collect his sheets, I prefer um not to think of that,” you reassure, looking embarrassed. You seemed to have a bad luck streak with men, you once confided in him; the only men who paid you mind seem to be scumbags. You were so embarrassed, it was clear on your face. The other staff tending to you like a little girl after your bout in the courtyard. “You know I think highly of you.”

The words almost make your knees buckle. You craved his appraisal and to say he starved you of it would be wrong. Compliments were common and you tried so badly to fill in the gaps of his words with false tribulations of love and affection. He was the Abbe de Coulmier and a man of God. He devoted himself to the Lord at the expense of distractions. Like you. A distraction. “I think highly of you too,” you stutter a bit, almost choking on your words. You never touch him yet you miss him. You miss him when he’s a foot in front of you. It’s a wrong thought to think of him like this.

Thinking of him every waking moment and pretending your soul would ever let you sleep knowing you were the reason a good man broke his word to God. If God was reading your thoughts right now, he would strike you down. But no. You stare at each other with an unspoken tension that may just be making up; an elaborate trick of the mind that perhaps you have a chance with the Abbe. You cough, filling in the silence. “You look beautiful today,” he quips, though his face immediately looks like he said something wrong.

“Oh, thank you, Abbe,” you grin foolishly, like a schoolgirl whose crush noticed her, “y-you uh always looks nice! I mean handsome!” You both stare at each other, looking a bit foolish. You felt 14 all over again. “I... should tend to the laundry, Abbe,” you say, making him snap out of some out-of-body thought process. He stands up, clumsily tripping over his own feet and resteadying on the desk before trotting to you on lanky limbs to open the door for you.

“So sorry, so sorry (y/n), I forgot about your duties! Please tell your head that I pulled you in for a talk and explain anything; I’d hate for you to get in trouble because of me,” he even stumbled on his words this time. It was worth filling in the gaps of his words with the idea that he had a crush on you, perhaps thought of you late at night, letting his big palms wander belt the hem of his - you should leave.

“Quite alright, Abbe,” you reassure, daring to let your palm rest on his bicep as you pass him in the doorway, slowly, drinking in the feel of his warm skin through the thin fabric of his coat. It was so hard to not think of him in that way when all day long the other older laundresses fauned over him, over the loss of such a good, handsome man permanently off the market. O what a damn shame.

You look longingly in his face for a moment, preparing for this long and short interaction to end and return to the washbins and reminisce about his perfect presence. “May I see you here tomorrow at noon?” He says before he can think. “Yes,” you say before you can think. The moment ends.

“I should get back to work. Afternoon, Abbe,” you smile timidly as you scurry off, the length of your dress following suit, swaying to the rhythm of your strides, a pretty strut in his eyes. You make it hard to stay a Man of God. He watches you as you stray from view, heart thumping in his chest. His confession of affection sat in his throat today.

Perhaps he should just save it for the confessional.

Perhaps tomorrow at his desk, you sitting smiling as from him, curves outlined with the sweet frills of your dress as you grin at him. . .

His mind strays further from the light each day. The next day you see him, he stirs in discomfort in his chairs; unbeknownst to you, his back covered in lashes from a leather belt he beat himself with before bed (the bed he fucks into his hand while he thinks of you so lewdly grinning the same way you do now) and as you cross your legs, he plans to do the same thing tonight.

#abbe de coulmier scenario #abbe de coulmier imagine #abbe de coulmier x you #abbe x you #abbe de coulmier x reader #abbe x reader #quills imagine #quills #Quills (2000)#sry im rusty !!!

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nightlovechild · 5 years ago

Text

Fake It - Deceit’s Week. (Day 4: Anxceit)

Warnings: depression, fighting, cognitive behavioral therapy, name calling, male character using feminine terms, bdsm themes, Remus briefly mentioned, D/s dynamics, spanking mentioned, anal fingering, anal sex, nipple play, hand job, over sensitivity, Deceit

Summary: Deceit helps Virgil out of his mental down-swing by any means necessary. Be it talking, fighting, asserting his dominance or rowdy sex, nothing is off limits when it comes to helping his Virgil.

Notes: Deceit's name is Dimitri

"You're a quack." Virgil called out from under his protective blanket cocoon.

"You get what you pay for, Honey." Dimitri quipped.

"I don't pay you."

"Exactly. So stop wasting our time with your bitching and just do it!"

"I can't believe you want me to fake being in a better mood? You think 'fake it until I make it' actually works?

"Yes. It does work. It's sound physiology." Dimitri said, uncrossing and recrossing his legs. Needing the small adjustment to keep his legs from falling asleep.

They had been at this for awhile now. Dimitri trying to coax Virgil back out into the mindscape and Virgil telling him where to shove it. By the fourth hour, Dee wanted to wring his scrawny neck, but the snake wouldn't let his pessimistic nature win out. No, he would follow the rules that they both agreed upon.

"Why are you even here? I bet you all don't want me around. Just. Fucking. Leave. Already." Virgil bit out as he heard Dimitri trying to explain why the cognitive technique works.

Dimitri rolled his eyes, grumbling in frustration. Leaving is never an option when they were making progress, which they were, no matter how slow it felt. Virgil had gone from one syllable disdain to speaking in full insulting sentences. 'So Yay progress!' Dimitri thought with thick sarcasm.

Dimitri preened over his thigh high fishnets as Virgil continued.

"News flash you're working with the left side of the brain! Your skills don't work here, fuck face." Virgil yelled into his sweater paws.

"Oh really? So, there's nothing I could say or do that would encourage you?" Dimitri said as he stood and walked over to Virgil's full length mirror, the click of his high heels resounding off the hardwood floors.

"Do snakes have not have fucking ears? That is exactly what I…" Virgil stopped mid sentence as he finally turned over. Stunned silent while he took in every inch of Dimitri's body.

Leaning into the mirror, Dee was reapplying his lipstick, mouth open suggestively. Bending forward at the waist made his hips angle backward. Causing his yellow and black mini sundress to ride up on his plump ass giving Virgil a very clear pantyless up-skirt view. Dimitri's ass and pert balls were on full display. Next, Virgil took in the black lace garter belt and fishnets that lead down to snake print high heels to finalize Dee's look.

"Keep going I love hearing you drag my animal side. Oh, and don't let this interrupt you," Dimitri pointed up and down his body, "Since you don't want to take care of yourself, how could you ever take care of all of this?"

Dimitri lifted the front of his skirt, stroking his hard cock while shaking his ass back and forth. Winking and blowing kisses through the mirror.

"You slutty snake." Virgil growled pulling his blankets away from his body, sitting up in bed. Using his anger to cover up that wanted to keep ogling Dimitri's fine body.

"A slutty snake that's been thinking about you all morning. Fucking myself with the toy you gave me. I'm so wet still. See? You could even slip right in and fill me up." Dee was playing with his ass cheeks now, making them jiggle and bounce. Pulling himself open quickly to show off the glimmer of lube and his tempting hole.

Virgil was on his feet even before his foul mood could catch up with him. Reaching out, his hands were slapped back.

"I didn't spend hours getting ready to be defiled by a grunge rock god. I require a couple of items before you get any." Dimitri's voice was sultry as he placed Virgil's right hand on his ass.

Virgil moaned as he gripped the soft ass he wanted to pound into.

"First I want you to repeat after me. I am okay. I am safe. Now you."

"I am… this is stupid."

"Fine, I know another dark side that would love to play my games." Dimitri scolded as he shoved Virgil's hand away, turning towards the door.

"No! He doesn't get your fine ass. You dressed up for me. You said you played with the toy I got you. In this moment you're mine." Virgil ordered but the whimpering tone made it more like begging.

"Then earn it! You're a smart boy, my boy. Thomas could call us at any minute and poof.." Dimitri held his hands up a final way.

"Fine. Fuck it. I… I'm okay. I am safe…For the moment." Virgil tacked on at the end.

"Again."

"I'm okay-ish. No one here would willingly harm me."

"Good enough. Next, Cleaning my room is simple if I listen to my Mistress."

Whimpering at the title, Virgil sunk to his knees assuming his submissive position in front of his Mistress. Dimitri smiled, caressing Virgil's face, waiting.

"Cleaning my room is simple if I listen to Mistress Dimitri." Virgil leaned forward kissing the top of Dee's high heels.

"Sit up. Look at me." Dimitri ordered softly. When Virgil complied, Dee leaned down, placing a kiss on Virgil's cheek.

"Thank you my sweet boy." The lipstick leaving a claiming mark. Virgil hummed in appreciation.

"Now that you're ready to listen. Pick up all the trash on the floor." Dimitri slipped past to take a seat. Crossing his legs above the knee enabled him to highlight his smooth balls under him and to display his hard cock over his thigh. Checking his painted nails as Virgil repeated the chant.

"I'm okay. I'm okay. This is simple. Just listen to Mistress."

Time passed quickly as Virgil strived and accomplished Dimitri's tasks. When he needed a break, Dee would have him kneel. Hand feeding him bits of food and sips of water. Only becoming stern when Virge had demanded caffeine after his first glass of water. He continued on pushing even after he was told no. Resulting in Virgil's backside stinging as much as Dee's hand was now red. The anxious side's moans and rutting behaviors mixed with tiny thank you's made Dimitri feel happy all the way down to his dark little heart.

'Such a good, but naughty pet.' Dee thought as he realized Virgil had went with the natural endorphin high that spanking brought him instead of the caffeine.

Once they could see the floor, the sheets were changed, and the trash was taken out, Virgil knelt at Dimitri's feet, wiping the sweat from his face, panting in front of his powerful love.

"I did just as you instructed I took care of my space and there's a clean area for us to play. I want you so much, please my Mistress?" Virgil asked, resting his forehead against the fishnet clad legs.

"I am so proud of you. You looked so good getting these monstrous tasks done. Love when you follow orders so well. Made my cock hard each time I heard you saying my phrases." Dimitri coo'ed.

"Then I've earned you?" Virgil sat up hopefully, kissing at the wide lace band of the fishnets.

"Not quite yet."

"Noooo." Virgil openly whimpered.

"You're almost there, my beautiful pet. One more thing then you get me, I promise. Repeat after me: Taking a shower isn't daunting. I can wash myself with ease."

"Dee...please?" Virgil shifted down to kiss the snake print heels again when his hoodie shifted. The odor making him jerk back up immediately. "Taking a shower isn't daunting. I can wash myself with ease."

"Good. Now again." Dimitri ordered as he signaled for Virgil to crawl into the bathroom ahead of himself.

Once Virgil was ordered to stand, Dee traded chaste kisses for articles of his clothing so Virgil was inclined to be stripped down without a fight. Ordering him to brush his teeth while Dee started running his water. Making sure it was to Virgil's liking, as hot as possible. Before turning around to order him in Virgil climbed right in. Dee grinned, Virgil choosing to do something without being told was a good sign.

Settling in under the hot water spray, Virgil was able to breath deep with ease. Letting the warmth work itself into his muscles, chasing the darkness away. Grabbing for the shampoo, Virgil fell into his normal showering routine.

He continued repeating the snake's motivational lies that were slowly turning to truths. True reasoning finally out weighting depression's twisted logic. His voice barely carried over the rush of the shower but with Dimitri's excelled hearing, Virgil knew his Mistress could hear him crystal clear.

Dimitri had hopped up onto the bathroom counter to wait. Enjoying the steamy outline of Virgil soaping himself up and slyly stroking his cock more times than necessary to get it clean. Goosebumps rose on Dee's arms as he hugged himself happy that all the hard work was paying off. Dimitri wiggled with need and excitement as the water turned off. Virgil stepping out of the shower dripping wet, stocking right over to him. Steam rolling of his body still.

"I'm all clean and I smell better, scout's honor." Virgil joked as he reached out to take his towel that was in the other's grip.

"Are you sure about that?" Dee leaned in for a sniff and gripped the towel tighter.

"Yes." Virgil said irritation in his voice. Shaking his wet head like a dog, spraying water everywhere.

"Stop! Stop! Do you know how much this dress cost me?!?" Dimitri yelled and laughed, jumping down off the counter. Wrapping the towel over Virgil's head making him laugh. Letting the towel fall back, their lips met in a tender kiss. "Let's get you dried off and get you ready for me, yeah?"

"Yes, Please." Virgil agreed as he let Dimitri resume control.

The soft cotton towel caressed Virgil's body until every drop of water was gone. Then his wet hair was dried and styled. His signature black eye shadow with a hint of purple glitter was applied. His leather collar tightened just right. Dimitri's hand lingering over the band, watching Virgil's adam's apple bob as his looked up at Dee's face.

"You okay?" Virgil asked, his hands tugged at his short skirt.

"How angry would you be if I changed our play up bit? You're so pretty, I want my fingers and my cock inside of you so bad. It's not an order. I was just wondering."

"Sounds perfect as I feel more wild and rowdy now then slow and steady you like to be fucked at. Plus, it means you'll owe me a round two." Virgil grinned wickedly, eyebrows wriggling, as he slid his hands up to Dimitri's waist, pulling him closer.

"Great, because that won't come to bite me in the ass." Dee swiveled his hips pressing his hardening cock to his pet's chest.

"Hey! I resent that. I would never draw blood. At least not there." Virgil smiled, showing his teeth.

"Flustering your Mistress is against the rules. So just, like, Stand up and be good for once." Dimitri turned red as he placed the towel across the counter and pointed down.

"No promises."

Smoothly, Virgil was guided forward onto his elbows. A quick tap to both feet signaled for Virgil to widen his stance, putting his ass on display. Virgil sucked in a sharp breath as warming lube was pressed against his hole.

"There we go, my darkling. Bet that warmth feels so good, huh?" Dimitri said as he circled around Virgil's rim.

Drawing a pleasing sound from Virge as he pressed inside. His groans only growing as one finger worked itself in and out, then two, and three.

"M-Mistress, please need y-yyou."

"You know the rules, four fingers before you take my cock. It's for your comf.." Dimitri started but stopped. Seeing the desperation in his pet's face through the mirror. "Okay, this time only, you win."

Virgil shivered as Dee removed his fingers, watching him wash his hands, then Virgil grabbed the warming lube and tugged Dee back into the bedroom. Roughly shoving him on the bed. Making him bounce with the force of the drop. Virgil tossed off the pumps. Then yanked the lace garter and fishnets off. Then opted to flip the skirt up, then taking off the whole dress.

"Wow, you really do need this cock huh, baby boy?" Dimitri could only laugh as Virgil slicked up his cock and climbed on top. The warming lube making Dimitri's cock swell to full hardness.

"Mhmmm." Virgil mumbled as he lined them up and rocked himself down. His mouth hung open as he processed how deliciously full he was.

"Told you 'the fake it until you make it' method works?" Dee quipped as he thrusted up into Virgil's body. Causing his boy to moan at the pleasure and hiss at lame comment at the same time.

"Not to offend, but you're such a fucking bastard sometimes, my sweet Mistress." Virgil growled with fake pleasantries. He went up on his knees and sunk back down, taking Dimitri's cock to its base. While his hands were squarely on Dee's chest, holding him down.

Dee went to say something snarky, but Virgil put his hand over his mouth, his thumb caressing the scaled side of his face.

"Believe me, I'm not faking a goddamn thing. I'm taking my reward. Won't stop until we both make me feel good."

Feeling Dee's bare fangs against his palm made Virgil ride him faster. The warming lube heating up even more with their new pace. His head lulled back as his eyes fluttered shut in his pleasure. His cock bouncing off of Dimitri's stomach as he went faster, leaving a wet precome spot with each bounce.

Dee's mind was split between enjoying how his cock kept disappearing so expertly into Virgil's warmth and recalling more pleasurable tricks to make Virgil feel the best like he deserved.

"T-that's it my...oh, fuck… my pet. So good. Keep going, ride that cock like you fantasize about when your alone touching yourself." Dimitri encouraged him. His words covering the sounds as he reached into the bedside drawer, pulling out the bottle that held Virgil's euphoria.

Spreading the mint cooling gel lube on his fingertips, Dimitri reached up pinching Virgil's nipples, circling around them. If the obscene moan was anything to go by, his boy wanted more. Rolling his pert nipples and tugging lightly, the icy cold chill sped straight to Virgil's cock, leaking even more precome. As Virgil started to shake, Dimitri flicked and pinched his lover's nipples, all the sensations overwhelmingly amazing.

"Fffuck, sooo cold so good. Can I touch myself please, Dee? Need to come, please?"

"I would be mad if you didn't help yourself." Dee said as he continued to flick and massage his nipples.

Short fast strokes had Virgil coming all over his hand, across the dress and a bit on Dee's chin. Moaning incoherently as he kept stroking himself through his orgasm, drawing out every last drop. Squeezing and milking the cock trapped inside of him with each aftershock. Virgil's body sagged as his erotic high faded.

"Come here, lay down on me, my good boy. You've done enough work for now." Dimitri coo'ed as Virgil was already leaning down to lay against him. Dimitri's mint chilled hands drew shivers from Virgil's hot sweaty skin. Dee started moving again once Virgil hugged him tight. His cock slamming into Virgil's tight hole again and again, getting him close to the edge. Virgil's sweet honest words did Dimitri in.

"Thank you. Thank you for sticking in there with me. God, I feel so good right now. My room's clean, you fed me wonderful treats and the only thing I need left is your mark." Virgil rocked his hips with shaky legs. "Will you come inside of me? Please, Dee? Want you to shoot it so deep inside of my tight ass. Please, want to feel your heat. Your love. It's hotter then…"

Sloppy thrusts gave way to grinding as he filled his loving pet up until his come was leaking out around his cock. Slowly their heavy breaths returned to normal as well as their hearts stopped racing. Thoughts became clearer again.

"Wow." Dimitri basked in the after glow.

"Yeah, I know right?" Virgil agreed.

"Usual or bath again?"

"Usual. Please." Virgil said as Dee carefully rolled them over so he was on top again.

Opening the bedside drawer wider, Dee grabbed out the black and purple plug. Virgil placed his legs on Dee's shoulders with practiced ease. Allowing Dimitri's softening cock to slip free, but his come to stay inside. Whimpering at the over-sensitivity as Dimitri rubbed the plug through what come as on Virgil's skin. Grinning wickedly, he pushed the plug in ever so slowly watching it disappear inside his pet's body inch by inch.

Only once the plug was seated to its base did Virgil take his legs down. Laying against the bed completely spent. Dimitri whipped off his black and yellow sundress to start cleaning both of them up.

"Hey, what happened to "do you know how much this dress cost" nonsense?" Virgil imitated Dee on the spot.

"That dress was bout $2.30. I got it from the thrift store in Roman's realm." Dimitri said tossing the dirty dress into the bathroom with a single shot then pulled Virgil close again.

"What the fuck then?"

"Oh, I faked it. See it does work." Dimitri said as they both burst into laughter holding each other tight.

#sanderssides/sm/ut/challenge #Dimitri's week #Deceit's Week #Anxceit #Day 4 #notsafeforsanders

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