#now my monkey brain won’t stop thinking about him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ryuichirou · 7 months ago

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Okay I know you made this art like AGES ago but the womb tattoo Idia lives rentfree in my head and I wanted to ask if you had any hcs connected to that, like which character would love it and breed him nonstop, who'd find it hot in theory but not actually want to knock him up, who'd just make him get rid of it to not even risk it... or maybe someone would just make him a public breeding stock?

Hi again, Anon!

I am so happy you liked that one; I randomly remember that idea from time to time as well. We definitely should revisit it, and I should draw it again, but for now I’ll use your ask as an opportunity to talk about it!

First of all, “public breeding stock” is a phrase that feels so wrong yet so right when you apply it to Idia… thank you for putting this image in our heads. Ah, the way he should be treated 😔

As for the boys, I think none of them would want to get rid of the tattoo in an easy non-sexual manner; maybe it’s because of magic, maybe it’s horny monkey brain, but the moment they see it on Idia’s stomach, they’ll go ballistic lol

I also think that the majority of the boys we ship Idia with wouldn’t actually want to knock him up BUUUUT there is some nuance to this whole thing, so let’s go through the list of our main Idia ships…

Azul – this one actually has some hcs, since the original comic is Azul/Idia-centric! The moment Azul learns about the true meaning of the tattoo, he’ll play the “oh how dare you, did you want to use me for your own satisfaction, Idia-san?” card, of course being very obviously fake about this heartbreak and betrayal of trust. And he would completely ignore the fact that Idia wasn’t planning on doing that at all… and he’ll keep talking about it, while having sex with Idia, completely ignoring Idia who is trying to explain that this isn’t the case. The fact that Idia’s mouth starts smiling involuntarily due to how good it feels doesn’t help his case at all.

Azul doesn’t really buy the breeding thing, but he’ll still get overly horny simply due to how much power he has over Idia in this state, especially as the tattoo lights up with his every move and how Idia exhales whenever the dick leaves his body. They’ll break the spell, but Azul will definitely use it in the future. Controlling Idia by having the one thing that he wants sounds like too powerful of an idea to ignore it. Azul is on his way to learn how to cast it! (he’ll also try not to think about how much he genuinely loved seeing Idia looking like this and desiring him…)

Jade and Floyd will get super into in this exciting new thing that Idia did to himself. It’s like a fun toy just got upgraded into the best toy! Idia is already pretty easy to chase and freak out, but when he’s barely running because his body actually wants him to get railed by these two, even though his mind isn’t… it’s perfect. It also feels like when Idia is scared of them, his sexual frustration gets even worse, so by the time they finally get tired of playing around and pin him down, his tattoo would be so bright and hot and his hips would move on their own because he’s desperate. These two would really push the tattoo’s effect to its absolute limits before they even get to touch Idia directly. So of course they’ll comment on how pathetic Idia looks, and of course they’ll play with him for hours!

While they probably won’t be very interested in the breeding part, they would love how Idia begs them to stop but also keeps clinging to them. They’ll also love how his belly is getting filled and stretched as they finish inside for the 5th time both, and Jade would be the one to not only comment on that, and then Floyd would put pressure on the belly to make Idia squirt out everything he’s been storing inside for the past two hours. His tattoo almost started disappearing, too..! But now that Idia is empty, it’s bright and hungry again.

Ortho – Of course he’ll help his niisan/niichan out! Isn’t it for the best that they can do it together and Idia won’t have to embarrass himself in front of other people? Not to mention, they’ve read a hentai manga just like that about a younger brother who helped out his older sister in the exact same way! What do you mean Ortho shouldn’t have access to this type of literature? Too late! Anyways, he’ll ignore Idia moaning about how wrong this it because he’s too busy enjoying how the tattoo colour changes whenever he changes the settings of his robo-dick.

Ironically, I can picture him of all people kind of wishing to knock Idia up, both as AI Ortho and as actual human Ortho. Not only he’ll say it while fucking the living daylights out of Idia, he’ll also make sure that by the time of his third orgasm Idia would start agreeing with him while crying of pleasure. This would’ve instantly became a cringe memory that Idia could’ve easily brushed off (he wasn’t really himself, it was the tattoo’s fault) when the whole thing is over; but Ortho would say that it’s a bummer that actually knocking Idia up is impossible… Ortho, please, you are the one person who SHOULDN’T think about it!

Sebek – no thoughts head empty; after figuring out what kind of curse this tattoo implies and yelling at Idia for being so obscene, he’ll get consumed by the desire to breed him. Maybe fae react to this type of tattoo stronger? Maybe it’s just a Sebek thing. But the moment he stares at the tattoo for longer than 2 seconds, his pupils will dilate and he will get super horny. He might get a vague desire to actually impregnate Idia, and it’ll keep his hips going like crazy, but it wouldn’t go further than that. Even though for a moment there he really would feel like Idia’s body is capable of handling fae eggs or anything else for that matter… Still, Sebek will fill Idia with to the brim and just keep creampie-ing him until both of them pass out.

Lilia – he is the one guy who is actually aware about the tattoo and what it represents, and he would be very impressed by the fact that Idia managed to do this to himself somehow. This is absolutely the first time Lilia witnessed someone doing it on accident… He’ll scare Idia with stories about how some infertile fae casted this spell on themselves and pumped out like 5 babies that year in one go, and how the tattoo means that Idia won’t go back to normal until his body is properly satiated with thick and potent seed. Idia could just ignore it of course, it won’t kill him, he’ll just feel incredibly horny all the time and start feeling the urge to shove anything even remotely phallic inside his ass—this is where Idia would beg Lilia to stop talking and making everything worse lol

Lilia will fuck Idia alright! And he’ll feel him good, while still talking about how Idia’s body will start changing whether he wants it or not. Idia will be completely terrified but also too horny to think about anything because Lilia would feel way too good.

But ALSO. When Lilia himself is done (grandpa can’t go 10 rounds like he used to…), he could actually do the “making Idia a public breeding stock” thing and just invite all the Diasomnia students to have their way with Idia. He’ll stay there the whole time, holding Idia’s legs and patting his head playfully while Idia completely loses his mind because both his hair and his tattoo would go absolutely crazy because of how overwhelmed and horny he is. He wouldn’t remember just how many guys he took that day, but thankfully, they left plenty of autographs on his body with a marker that Lilia found somewhere.

#replies #headcanons #azuide #shroudcest #lilidia #jadidi #floidi #sebeide

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blessedbucky · 10 months ago

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Spoilers for the Suguru ending of my "choose your own ending" story! This is a special treat since Tumblr has helped get the story up to almost 900 hits! I'm so grateful for you all that I'm dishing out some porn! I might post Satoru and Nanami, if anyone is interested. Also, it's Suguru's birthday and he deserves a happy fucking ending, damn it!

warnings: it's porn, canon suguru so he's got his cult, lil' bit of self-consciousness while a plus-size girlie rides it, breeding kink (is it truly a taylor fic if that's not in there), suguru getting off on his normally chill waifu getting jealous

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Seriously?! What’s gotten into you?!”

“Your dick, if you’re amendable to that, my lord husband.” The title is something you’ve never used with him before. You feel his dick twitch in his pants, so he obviously likes it. “Then, your come. I’d really like lots of that.” You stretch out, playing with the belt of your fancy yukata but not completely tugging it free yet. You’re feeling a little high off seeing him so flustered and red. “Can I have some now?”

Suguru sputters, “Here?!”

“What’s got you acting like such a virgin? Haven’t we done nastier shit?”

He scrubs a hand across his face, growling in frustration. “It’s not about the act. It’s the location. This is where I meet with all the monkeys that follow me. I’m already going to struggle to keep a straight face as it is, hearing you talk like that.” And yet…the hands that he’d put on your thick thighs to support you slowly inch up. “I have an image that I have to maintain when I’m here. Me daydreaming about all the come that’ll be dripping out of you on this very floor won’t exactly help with that.”

“Pick a different room, then.” You’re pouting, you know. Then, because you can be just as manipulative as him, you offer, “I can ride you.” You finally tug the belt of your yukata away. It loosens, not completely falling away, but the front of it pops open enough to give a tantalizing view of the valley of your breasts. “Suguru,” you whine playfully. You think you can physically see his brain stuttering to a stop, melting, and just straight up leaking out of his ears. “My pussy feels really empty right now. Aren’t you going to help me with that?”

“You are the fucking worst,” Suguru snarls before he’s ripping at your yukata.

You have to admit that this position isn’t exactly a favorite. It’s being done with Suguru, and that simple fact alone means that you love any position. And while you’re admitting things, this is one of the best for getting deep. Depth is a craving of yours, easier to handle than underused nerves firing off. So, seriously, you’re not complaining. There are some other positions that you prefer more, is all.

But Suguru fucking loves it.

You know why. He’s told you as much. It puts you and the body that he adores so much on full display. These days, you are…a little bit better about accepting your body. You can’t hate it as much anymore. That said, you think you’re allowed to feel awkward when it’s just…jiggling so much. There’s no different way to position yourself, no way to somewhat hide it—every move makes every single thing jiggle.

But…

Fuck it.

You’ll put on a show.

Tilting back, you reach around to brace yourself on his knees. The place where you two are connected is clear, his thick cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy. His hands are out of reach now, so you pick up where he left off with one of yours, pinching at your nipple. It’s harder to move fast this way, but you’re grinding down, trying to get him deeper, deeper, deeper. All your muscles are burning, trying to hold and lift yourself up enough to slam back down.

That familiar heat is building in your gut. If you fall over the edge right now, he’s sure to follow right after. “I—ah!” Words, words, words. “Ugh, why are you so sexy, Suguru?” You slam down on him, body rippling all over. If you move any more, you are going to lose this train of thought. “You drive me nuts. Just make me forget everything. I needed to tell you that I got so busy that I forgot to take it yesterday and today.” You huff. “It probably won’t take, but…if you don’t want to take the risk…just…just pull out, okay?”

Suguru barks out a hoarse laugh. “And again, I say, you’re really just the fucking worst.” He’s reaching out, gripping your wrists, hauling you down so your chests thump together. “Do you know what a menace you’ve been today, hmm?” You’re cradled against him while he rolls over to get you on your back. “Greeting me at the door like that—like my perfect little wife. The way you terrorized that woman. What was it, my love? Hmm? It wasn’t only the tea, I know. Did she look at me the wrong way? You looked like you wanted to claw her eyes out.”

“Don’t use the past tense—ah!” This is your favorite way to do it. To have his massive body blanketing yours, blocking out the entire world. “I actually thought about slipping some poison in her stupid fucking tea.” That feral thing inside him is awake now, his own eyes crazed as he tries to mark out a spot inside your body for himself.

Suguru’s breath is hot on the shell of your ear. “You have tested my patience and restraint today. Doing all you’ve done like you didn’t plan on seducing me. You beg me so beautifully for my seed and now you want me to think twice?” You dig your nails in the meat of his ass and lock your ankles around his, your body desperate to keep him inside you. Every snap of his hips makes you cry out. “You’ll get it. You’ll get as much as I can stuff in this lovely pussy.”

“Please, please, please—”

Suguru’s hand snakes up, draping loosely around your throat. “You better not spill a fucking drop,” he warns huskily. “Or else you’ll be the one licking it up off the floor. I won’t take the chance of some filthy monkey prostrating themselves to me tasting my love for you.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk fanfic #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #reader insert #my fic

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quitealotofsodapop · 1 year ago

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[I imagine the pair would still get blind-sighted by the news - and yelled at by Pigsy who at first believes its another fruit-baby situation XD]

Ooh, wait, just occurred to me…assuming it’s just Liang whose preggo and not both of the Fruitiedads – cuz not sure even Buddha wanted to know what those two were up to XD – then he’s pregnant, while on the Journey…all the morning sickness, weird cravings, pregnancy brain, bouts of exhaustion…those would be fun times.

While not scientific, imagine if Liang got DOUBLE pregnancy because he’s got twins – so, he forgets things he has on him, making him look for it, but he also forgets what it is he’s looking for, which often means he just wanders off.

Reborn-ZBJ getting so sick of it, he ties a rope around Liang and Tripitaka’s waists – “So, when Master gets kidnapped again-” *Offended Monk Noises* “-you know it’s true! Anyway, Monkey then will find them thrice as fast, because he’s also attached to his mate and kid. And likewise, if Liu Er starts wandering away, Master won’t be far behind to let us know where to find them. Simple!”

sequel to Smokey and Liang's possible Eclipse Twins.

Liang being like "Eh we've made kids before, can't be too hard" when he finds out about incoming twins, only to get spells of fatigue and nausea almost immediately.

Frequently confuses the names of the kiddos with one another (anyone with multiple siblings will tell you that this is a Mom Thing), and panics when he think he's misplaced one of the babies. He didn't, turns out Ao Lie was being used as a horsey ride and he forgot to say something.

Smokey is a protective guy at the best of times, and now that his mate is vunerable He's like a guard dog ready to snap at anyone who comes close to his little troop. Liang thinks he overreacts, but he finds it sweet.

The kiddos all def crowd around Liang, both similarly protective and curious. Xiao Qi doesn't know what to expect - Bama isn't a tree, where fruit coming out? The wolf siblings frequently fall asleep with their heads resting up against Liang's stomach, both poised to growl at any potiential threat.

Liang does have ways of using his condition to his advantage however...

Smokey and Xuanzang/Tripitaka: *arguing over Smokey's violence/the monk's naiveity* Sha Wujing: "We should really intervene." Liang, pregnant and holding one of the fruitie babies: "Don't worry, I know how to get Wukong to stop." (Liang waddles closer to Tripitaka and Smokey) Liang: "Love, my feet hurt. Can you help me settle the cubs down for a nap?" Smokey, immediately forgetting Tripitaka/the fight: "Ah. Sorry, moonlight." *picks up Liang bridal-style and walks away as some of the kids cling onto his back* Sha Wujing, pleasantly surprised: "Ah. That did get him to stop." Zhu Bajie: "...I'm terrifed of that Liu'er Mihou. Any being that can get Older Brother to behave himself has power rivalling the Buddha himself."

Meanwhile, Tripitaka is just left mid-lecture just like ( •̀_•́) cus he's still got stuff to say, but he knows its useless to snap SWK out of dad-mode.

Of course now demon and celestial kind are convinced that Smokey and Liang have been doing nothing since the king's return except multiplying. His FFM subjects are thrilled, while the gods shake in terror.

#monkey king reborn #fruitiedads #pregnancy tw #jttw inspo fan children #jttw inspo ocs #sun wukong #liu er mihou #six eared macaque

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abiiors · 2 years ago

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Do Me A Favour

yes, like the arctic monkeys song.

warnings: angst, just sadness. at least there's only 900 words of it.

White knuckles gripping the steering wheel, that’s his most vivid memory—something that he will always associate with today. White knuckles and the sound of a car door slamming shut.

And the anger in her voice as she tells him to fuck off…

Two hours before as he sits outside thei—her house, eyes red-rimmed yet bone dry, he wonders how everything came to this. How did he suddenly wake up one day in a cold hotel room all alone?

The car door opens viciously, her scent fills his lungs once again and what would have once driven him crazy, nauseates him even further.

‘Speak,’ she mutters as soon as she enters the car. Her tone is clipped and short, frigid enough to rival the arctic.

He looks over her features; the same sparkling eyes, now filled with so much indifference; the same full lips, now pressed in a straight line. ‘Why are you so angry at me?’ It’s soft, whispered, almost as if it slipped out without him realising it. But she hears it regardless.

‘Why am I—for fucks sake, Matty, are you hearing yourself right now?’ she scoffs, then takes a deep breath. The meaning is clear to him. He’s not worthy of her anger, of evoking any emotions in her.

‘Do me—do yourself a favour, Matty. Sign the papers, don’t make this harder than it has to be.’ She brings a hand up to her face to rub her eyes as if that would somehow make the exhaustion go away. And his heart stutters in his chest.

The ring that once sat on her finger is gone. The ring that he used to caress and kiss lovingly, the ring that he put on her finger on the happiest day of his life, has simply been discarded. The only thing that’s left behind is a ghostly pale band the colour of death.

‘You really want that?’ he asks stupidly. Of course, she wants that, his brain tells him, she wouldn’t get the lawyers involved if she didn’t. ‘You really want…’

‘What? For us to be over?’ she rolls her eyes and laughs mirthlessly, ‘we have been over. For a long, long time.’ The irony doesn't escape him that even in the middle of a fight, they still finish each other's sentences.

‘Don’t say that, darling…’ The nickname slips out—muscle memory, a habit that won’t die so soon, maybe ever. She doesn’t even register it, so used to him calling her that all the time. It’s some solace to him that she doesn’t.

‘I understand you’re angry with me, I do,’ he tries to placate her, holds his hands up in surrender and then an idea strikes. It’s insane but he’s willing to give it a try at least. Willing to do just about anything at this point. ‘Punch me if it makes you feel better,’ he grabs her hands, coaxing them into fists, ‘hit me, break my nose, beat me black and blue yeah? I know you’re angry, I know–I accept every single thing you’re mad at me for—’

‘Mad at you?’ she seethes and wrenches her hand away so forcefully that she almost hits her elbow against the door. ‘Matty, this is not some stupid fight! I’m telling you it’s over and there’s no coming back from it,’ her voice rises higher but he refuses to take the bait.

‘I know it’s not some silly fight–fuck, believe me, I know it’s not,’ he yells louder than her, and then in a softer tone, ‘but…but I know we can save this, I know we can—’

‘Stop!’ She holds up a hand as if that would physically stop the words from coming out of his mouth. Tears threaten to spill over as water gathers at her lower lashline. ‘You are still the exact same person, you know that? Taking me and my emotions for granted, you think if I hit you it will make all the hurt and pain go away? Or do you just want me to do something that would make me just as bad as you, huh? Worse still.’

There’s venom in her voice that he has never heard before. Words, rotten and foul that spill from her mouth. The same mouth, the same person who used to tell him how loved he was, how precious.

‘I’m glad we never had children,’ she spits at him. ‘Although I don’t doubt “absent father” is a badge that would bother you. Being an absent husband clearly fucking didn’t.’

He flinches, unable to come up with a coherent answer. Heart cracking open and ready to bleed all over his car.

A shadow of uncertainty crosses over her features for the briefest of seconds, almost concern, almost regret. But it’s swallowed whole by steely resolve.

She furiously wipes at her eyes and places a hand on the door handle. ‘Don’t contact me again,’ her voice is firm, ‘my lawyer’s contact information is in the email.’

‘Wait—’

‘Goodbye, Matty.’

The door opens and thuds shut before he even registers it. The sound echoes with finality around the car, the final nail in the coffin before this marriage breaks down and withers away forever.

He watches and waits till she’s back inside, waiting to see if she will turn around and wave goodbye, even if it’s forced; or give him a smile, even if it’s fake. But she simply slams the front door shut.

His hand hovers mid-air, a half-formed wave, a pathetic goodbye.

#matty healy x reader #matty x you #haunt // bed #matty healy x you #matty x reader

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carissimipaixao · 2 years ago

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uhh lupin w/ bliss #16 of that prompt list? if requests are still open that is!!

─ i. WHAT A THING TO ADMIT

published on: january 20, 2023 requested by: anon pairing: arsène lupin iii & reader prompt: “i don't think i've ever loved someone this much.” word count: 5.6k+ note: part one of this request! part two will be released shortly after. ask to be tagged if you want to be notified as soon as it is released, or follow! reblogs are highly appreciated!

The first time you meet Lupin III, you nearly cut his nose off.

You have found yourself hypnotized by the beauty of an exotic gem — your target — when a voice suddenly speaks from behind you. Out of pure instinct, dagger in hand, you turn, swinging your blade as fast as you can towards the face of an unknown man. He reacts just as quickly, with a shriek and eyes that nearly boggle off its sockets.

‘Careful where you swing that thing!’ He cries out, taking a long step back with a hand on his face. ‘What would I say to the ladies, if they saw me without my beautiful nose?’

You grit your teeth, firstly cursing yourself for lowering your guard and secondly cursing him for appearing in the first place. You are in a defensive stance, standing in front of the opened vault as the tip of your dagger points directly towards his sternum. Any move he decides to make will be his last, you think and you grip the dagger tighter. ‘I don’t know. They aren’t exactly missing out on anything, really.’

The man clenches his chest with a fake gasp, and, while he dramatizes how you must’ve hurt his feelings, you observe — as you always do. You’re searching through your brain and your memories, because there is something oddly familiar about his face. Have you met him before? Has he ever been a target?

‘Best you back off, monkey,’ you threaten. ‘Hate to inform you, but this is mine.’

‘Well, I hate to inform you,’ he begins as he straightens his back, ‘but I’ve already decided that I would have it.’ His hands are inside his pockets, and his smirk widens. The overconfidence only makes you more resentful — and, on edge. Your eyes narrow at his stance and you try to spot any sort of weapon that could be possibly attached to his body. He is yet to draw it, of course. Does he think, however, that he’s some kind of overpowered deity? Does he think he has any chance against her? Oh, hell no. ‘I’ve already sent a calling card, you see.’

A calling card? You blink, a clear realization echoing through your mind. But, before you can say anything—

You barely catch the subtle click before you dive back below the counter, just a curtain of bullets begins raining above your head. The thief shrieks — ever the freaking clown that he is — as he dodges the bullets, searching for cover. You make eye contact, and he shrugs with a sheepish smile. You only roll your eyes.

The shooting stops, though only for a moment. ‘Lupin!’ A rough, old voice rings through the deadly silent room. ‘Such a pleasure to have your delightful company.’

‘The pleasure is all mine,’ Lupin smirks, pulling out his iconic weapon. ‘Same as your little treasure.’

‘Ah! As if,’ your target scoffs, although you can already imagine how his face has darkened. ‘I’m sorry to inform you that you won’t be getting out of here with my treasure. Let alone alive! The same goes to the little mouse you’ve brought along with you!’

‘Huh?’

‘Excuse me—,’ you begin, feeling perhaps the most offended you’ve ever been in your life. You? With this man? Never.

‘You can’t fool me!’ He shouts. ‘It’s time I finally get rid of you, Lupin! Now, die!’

In an instance, the rain of bullets falls upon you once again. You press yourself harder against the counter, gritting your teeth in annoyance. You turn to spare a glance at Lupin, narrowing your eyes into the nastiest glare you can muster once you meet his eyes. He grins sheepishly, switching off the safety of the gun.

You shake your head, and, instead, turn your head in the other direction.

The ruby in the vault glints tauntingly at you. It’s still there, waiting to be stolen, waiting to be taken away from the greedy and wealthy. You wet your lips, your blood rushing through your veins. You can already imagine how much money you could make with that gem. It is bigger than a diamond, and more beautiful than all jewels combined.

You adjust your position, having already begun to plan your strategy. You are beginning to know how many seconds it takes for all men to fire, for all men to reload and fire again. The voices of Lupin and the ganglord are muffled as you take deep breaths.

Unfortunate as it may be for Lupin, you had already set your eyes on this gem for a little over a week. The saying goes “finders, keepers”, after all — and, in your opinion, you were already meant to be its new owner.

You wait a beat.

And, another.

And—

You throw a smoke bomb into the ground, hearing the hiss of the smoke as it begins to involve the room. The guards are shouting in a second, and you run towards the open vault. Lupin yells something from behind you, but you pay no mind to it. You have nothing to do with this man. When your fingertips brush against the sharp edges of the gem, you feel your face stretch, a grin forming on your lips.

You use your free hand to raise a piece of fabric around your neck, thus covering your mouth and nose. ‘Sorry, Lupin,’ you begin, finding his eyes through the smoke that is starting to surround him. ‘This is where we part ways.’

You don’t wait for a response as you jump through the broken window, a victorious laughter echoing through the night.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The chandelier glints in the ceiling. It is to be expected, when it is made out of diamonds. The owner of the estate clearly loves to show off his property and wealth, despite the unwanted attention the diamond chandelier and other goods receive and will receive. It attracts thieves like you, after all. From the distant, thoughtful and greedy eyes that are also sparing long glances at it, you suspect they are part of the Underground, just as you are.

You sip the champagne with a subtle curl of your lips. You’re not aiming to steal it, but if it were to be stolen… How much money would you make out of it? What if someone tries to steal it, and you steal a diamond from them, instead? So many possibilites and thoughts, but you’re trying to lay low for now, trying to restrain yourself from theft, after nearly being caught for stealing (and being robbed) that exotic gem from last month.

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’

A sudden voice from behind you makes you jump. You barely save your glass from spilled liquor and curse under your breath, before turning to look over your shoulder. For a moment, you brush the person off — until you do a double take and turn fully to look at them.

‘It’s said to have been a gift to Marie Anne de Bourbon,’ he continues, using his index finger to push the glasses in, while the other hand remains behind his back. ‘From her father, le Roi Soleil himself.’

‘Daddy’s little girl, then,’ you conclude with narrowed eyes before turning back to the chandelier. Though, to the outside world, it merely looked as if you were watching the crowd, glass in hand as you twirl it in deep thought.

‘Aw, don’t you look happy to see me?’ Lupin teases you, leaning towards you. You take a step to the side, turning your head to glare at him. His smile only widens. ‘I wonder if fate is bringing us together.’

‘Aren’t you a comedian,’ the sarcasm, as you fake a chuckle, drips through your voice like honey, but so does the venom that hides underneath.

The thief puts a hand on his chest, giving you a pout. ‘I see your heart remains cold, but that’s alright! I’ll just have to warm you up to me.’ He winks.

‘Is that your pick-up line?’

‘No. Did it work?’ He sounds hopeful for a moment, and he leans over again, invading your personal space. You use your arm to push against his chest, with an exasperated sigh, and the thief steps away with a giggle. Then, he turns to the chandelier, as he stands next to you. ‘Are you planning to steal that?’

‘I’m laying low. Not that it’s any of your business,’ you reply curtly. But, you are curious as a cat; and so, after a beat, you look at him from the corner of your eye, twirling the glass in your hand. ‘Are you?’

‘Why, of course!’ He puffs out his chest in all of his contemptuousness, not unlike a peacock. ‘I never back away from the promises I make.’

‘What are you talking about?’ At your question, he reaches inside his jacket and hands you a little paper. You hesitate, and you glare into his face. For all you know, there could be something inside. You’ve taken your time since the previous encounter to further research him; after all, you knew little of him when you first met him, for the exception that he was considered “a master thief” by some and constantly alerted his targets of his intentions. You’ve discovered he can be quite crafty and unpredictable.

Yet, in that face, you find nothing but pure contentment and composure. He appears relaxed and unhostile. Would he really harm you like this? In public and in the middle of a crowd? You don’t think he would be foolish to take the risk, but… what if…?

When you grab the paper that is held between his fingers, he puts his hands back inside his pockets. You glance at him again, wearily, and then, you open the paper. The first thing you notice is the little sketch on the bottom right corner of the paper, almost like a caricature. Even in his infamous calling cards, he acts like a clown. Then, you look at the contents of the letter. But, alas, you don’t understand it. You frown as you attempt to recognize any of those words or to find a possible translation, based on the spelling.

‘Ce soir, à neuf heures, je volerai le grand lustre de Madame Marie Anne de Bourbon,’ he reads the letter to you in a mischievous voice. ‘“Tonight, at nine o’clock, I will steal the great chandelier of Madame Marie Anne de Bourbon”.’ You sigh and hand the paper back to you, which he refuses to accept. ‘Keep it, as a memento of our delightful meeting.’ He gives you a wink.

‘What’s the point of all this, really?’

‘It gives me a challenge, you see,’ Lupin explains, observing the treasure up and down. His eyes narrow in calculating thought. You look quickly at your watch; it’s five to nine. ‘You say, “what’s the point of warning your target”, but I say, “what’s the point of a challenge if there’s no risk involved”. If there is no challenge, thieving just isn’t as exciting. If it weren’t for these—,’ he points at the calling card in your hand, ‘—I wouldn’t have to deal with obstacles or thrilling chases and enemies, such as that one.’

The thief points towards the opposite side of the ballroom. You follow its direction, until your eyes land on a man that is clearly not dressed for the occasion. In a long, brown coat and with a brown hat on top of his head, the man frowns with his hands in his pockets, as he inspects the room, looking for a specific face in the crowd. Then, he moves his left wrist close to his face and says something that you obviously can’t hear from this distance.

‘The police are here,’ you say and swallow for a moment. You quickly turn to glare at the man, who puts his hands up for a moment, as if afraid you’ll jump and attack him. ‘I’m laying low, and you bring the police.’

‘Had I known, I would’ve been more considerate,’ he smiles. ‘Don’t worry, if anyone catches you, I’ll rescue you, chérie.’

‘What did you just—’

At that same moment, the lights go off. You gasp and take a step back, taken by surprise. The entire room screams in shock, and you swear you hear the voice of the police inspector in the background, as the staff run blindly through the room, yelling for someone to turn on the generator. As you do, a hand gently grabs your own and you feel the slow touch of lips on the back.

‘Until we meet again.’

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As you had suspected from the start, the chaos that followed the heist on Madame de Bourbon’s treasure, surveillance had tightened and the law enforcement, most particularly Interpol who was only there to catch your newest rival, looked through the crowd of guests to find any more collaborators. No one seemed to have been found, but they did find you.

The shackles around your wrists are too tight for your own liking, and your glare is heated as you mumble under your breath. You have been pushed into the back of a police van, and you can see the Inspector from Interpol talking to the owners of the estate. The old woman attempts to gain sympathy from the man, weeping openly into his arms. The man grows awkward, and coughs into his fist, politely pushing the woman away under the scandalous and jealous stare of the husband.

The policemen are wrapping up for the night, and you see two approaching the van you’re sitting in. You immediately tense up and grit your teeth. If only I hadn’t brought this dress—-no, if only that ugly monkey hadn’t shown up…! Your escape would have been almost guaranteed.

However, another police officer shows up from around the van.

‘Excusez-moi, messieurs, mais je dois escorter la criminelle dans son pays,’ he begins. Some of the words you are fortunate enough to understand, and you can’t help but notice the slight accent. The men look between themselves in confusion. ‘N’est pas de nationalité française, et on nous a ordonné de l’emmener dans un commissariat de son pays, où la criminelle pourrait être jugée pour ses crimes conformément à la loi nationale.’ He moves to stand in front of the van, as he moves his hand around, the other inside his pocket. Perhaps, he is indeed a fellow Frenchman. You snort internally.

After a moment, one policeman shrugs and waves off the conversation, turning on his heel as he does. ‘Si tu dis… Alors, emmenez-la.’ The other one appears a bit reluctant, looking back and forth, before he inevitably gives up. The third one huffs, and turns to stare at you quietly. You narrow your eyes at him.

‘Take a picture, pal. It’ll last longer,’ you say.

The man scoffs. ‘You’re not worth the picture.’ He replies fluently to you, the slight accent still present. He climbs into the van, closing the door promptly. He knocks against the wall that separates the back of the van from the driver, and the van starts up. You lean back, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Not now, you think. Once I’m out of this van, then I’ll know what to do. You need to know more about your current situation.

‘So, where are you taking me?’ You ask. ‘Back to my country?’

The officer stretches his leg to be able to pull, from the pocket, a box of cigarettes. He holds it between his lips as he searches for a lighter. ‘No.’

That makes you pause. Then, it makes you tense. Elsewhere—

An annoyed grumble comes from the man as he finishes lighting his cigarette. ‘The things that idiot makes me do—listen, lady, I’m only doing this as a favor to my partner. If, by any chance, you do want to go to jail, I’ll have this van turn back.’

‘A favor to your partner?’ You take a close look at his face. You cannot see much of it, anyway, as the hat has been pulled as down as possible, concealing his features. Yet, seeing the slacked-off posture, the cigarette and the neat and well trimmed beard pulls at your memory. This type of loyalty — you have seen it somewhere before.

‘Lupin sent you?’

The officer — Jigen, you remember — groans as he exhales a cloud of smoke, as if you suddenly reminded him of this unfortunate task. ‘Yes, but I’m yet to see why. As far as I can tell, you’re just another woman that is trying to get to him.’ He tilts his back upwards, burning his eyes into yours. ‘Well? What are you plotting, exactly?’

‘Plotting?’ You are at edge. You remember his skills, the long list of enemies and targets that he has taken down. You certainly wouldn’t dream of joining that list.

‘What is it that you want from Lupin?’

You narrow your eyes, not wishing to appear intimidated or cornered, ‘I don’t want anything from him. What I do want is for him to leave me alone. He has stolen my trophy before, he has endangered me because of his methods, and he just got me arrested.’ You haven’t forgotten how he pulled that stunt, taking the exotic gem you had stolen. I never break a promise, he’d said with a wink as he fled.

‘He has asked me to come to rescue you from the police,’ he interrupts you. ‘Clearly, there’s a reason for your rescue.’

A voice interjects from the driver’s seat. ‘As long as it is a beautiful woman,’ the man starts, ‘there shall always be a reason to safeguard her.’ He speaks in an earnest way, contemplative.

‘Sure, and what about just keeping it in his—’

‘Either way,’ you speak over the gunman, ‘I have nothing going on with Lupin. He is only competition. I did not ask to be saved, he did all of it on his own. It’s not my fault that he made that decision by himself, neither is it my fault that you two were dragged into it.’ You sigh. ‘Just drop me off somewhere, and I’ll be on my way.’

‘The police may be heading this way to come after you,’ the driver says. ‘They might have already confirmed that you are not being detained by the authorities.’

Jigen groans. ‘Goemon…’

‘I shall keep my word to Lupin. He has asked us to take her to the safehouse.’

‘And she might report it, or she might attack us—’

‘Jigen,’ the hitman is stopped mid-rant, ‘despite what destiny might befall us, we will know what to do. Lupin will know what to do. However, Lupin needs us now.’ Jigen heaves a sigh. ‘Ma’am, you are in safe hands. No danger shall fall upon you.’

The eloquence behind his words is weirdly calming. You nod, before you voice your thoughts, knowing he may not see you, ‘Thank you… Goemon.’ You spare the upset man in front of you a glance. ‘You too, Jigen.’

He scoffs.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A little over a month has passed since the incident in France. Even if the gentleman thief rescued you, having kept in mind your “situation”, it still feels embarrassing — especially for your ego — to have needed the help from someone you hardly know, from someone you consider to be a rival or competition within the thieving business.

From someone like Lupin.

You try to understand the reasons that may possibly be there for him to save you, but there is nothing in sight. You are a thief just like the many others out there; although you pride yourself on your stealth skills and charisma (when you need to be in the public scene), you truly believe you aren’t that special. You don’t have any unique talent that stands out, like Arsène Lupin III’s genius,—

Don’t ever tell him that I said that…!

—Jigen Daisuke’s masterful skills in gun handling and weaponry, or Ishikawa Goemon XIII’s mythical sword that can cut through anything and anyone.

Either way, you want to keep your distance from him. So far, he has done nothing but give you unnecessary trouble. You had left France before the police could confirm your supposed arrest at the hands of your country’s authorities; instead, you chose Olinda, Brazil, as your hideout. It acts as a resting place, as if you are on vacation like any other citizen, as you think of your next target and as you come up with a plan.

The beaches are beautiful, however, and that cannot be denied. If you were, indeed, like any other citizen, clear from the life of theft, you would’ve chosen to stay there forever. But, work is work, and it is how you earn a living. You wouldn’t be able to afford these places or travel as much as you need (even if it is to escape the police), if it weren’t for the jewelry, the museum pieces and the money you have stolen over the years.

It is nearly time for lunch, and you get up from the deckchair. You have gotten a little bit of tan from the sunbathing, which feels like a new breath of air — as if you are already someone else. You’re not a thief, or “the Thief” — a Ladra — as you hear the Brazilian news call you. You put your sundress back on, and fix the hat on your head. Yet, it is when you begin walking back to your hotel that you feel your peace shatter.

All good things must come to end, you tell yourself, displeased.

A man stands in front of the entrance, leaning against one of the pillars. He, too, sports a pair of sunglasses, and he wears shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. He looks like a tourist, but, even from this distance, you recognize that insufferable smile.

As you approach, he raises his arm to wave at you. You clench the bag on your shoulder tight, trying to contain your temper. I’ll strangle him. Just let him say anything else, that is how you try to be composed in public, as you sadly get closer to the French thief. However, you do not regard him. In fact, you pretend like he is not there, as you walk right past him.

‘Bom dia. A senhora vai subir?’ The receptionist greets you, smiling.

‘Sim,’ you reply, unable to keep the frown off your face as you hear the sandals behind you, hitting against the floor. ‘Me traga uma garrafa de vinho para cima, por favor.’

You have apparently amazed Lupin, for he whispers charmingly, ‘Is that for us two—wait!’ You manage to press the button to close the elevator doors, before he can enter. He stares after you with a stupefied expression, as you wave your fingers, saying goodbye.

When the door closes, you heave a deep sigh. ‘Goddamnit.’ I just can’t have a break, can I?

You put your sunglasses on top of your hat and hear the elevator chime upon arriving at your floor. When you step out, Lupin appears from your right, having climbed the stairs. He puts his hands on his knees to catch his breath, holding out his hand. ‘W-wait!’

You huff and keep walking to your hotel room, doing your best to ignore the monkey-faced man. I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him! Yet, despite your annoyance, you know you wouldn’t do it. There may be a lot of things to say about your character, but “killer” isn’t one of them. Perhaps, same as him, even though you are aware that he has spilled more blood than you did.

Lupin runs up to you, as you turn the key, ‘I have something for—’

‘Do yourself a favor, and leave me alone, will you?’

You start to close the door, but he puts his foot and hand in front of the door to keep it open, even if for a little. Yet, instead of insisting to speak with you, as he has been doing, something pokes through the gap. You pause to look at it and widen your eyes. At your silence, the man says, ‘I said I had something for you.’

You hesitate.

‘Can I come in, chérie?’

You bite your lower lip, clenching the doorknob tighter in your grip as you think it over. You have only really interacted with him twice — well, it has actually been the double of that, considering the moment he stole the gem from you, and when he tried to invite you inside his safehouse in France, despite the disapproval from his right-hand man. So far, one thing is certain; everything is a game for him.

Clearly, there’s a reason for your rescue, you remember the conversation with Jigen. Perhaps, indeed, there is a reason why he persists following after you. What is it that you have that he needs?

As long as it is a beautiful woman, those had been Goemon’s words. You hardly gave it a second thought back then, but now—

You shake your head forcefully — as if to push those thoughts away — and tear the door open, the man nearly falling onto the floor with a shriek, before he catches his balance. ‘Make it quick.’ You turn your back to him and walk to the couch that is near the window.

Closing the door behind him, Lupin chuckles to himself. ‘Well, that’s the first time I’ve heard a lady telling me that. It’s usually the oppo—’

‘Are you going to tell me what you want, or not, Lupin?’ You interrupt him, ignoring the sudden heat that you feel on your face. You sit down with an angry huff.

The Frenchman raises his hands, as if in surrender. ‘Alright, alright.’ He rubs the back of his head, sheepishly. He looks out of his element when he is not wearing a suit, you realize. ‘Are you still mad at me?’

‘Whatever made you think that?’

The doorbell rings. Lupin sighs. ‘Je suis désolé, chérie. You know I have no intention of putting you behind bars.’ He opens the door and warmly takes the bottle of wine from the hands of the hotel employee, thanking her with a flirtatious purr. You hear her gasp and reply flusteredly, before the door closes.

‘No, I don’t. In fact, I don’t know you, Lupin,’ you reply. ‘You might as well stop acting like you know me, though. Now, before I lose my patience, will you just tell me what it is that you want?’

He fetches two glasses from the kitchen, filling them up with the wine. ‘There will be an auction for the Premier Rose Diamond, the diamond that I have shown you. I believe the future former owner is selling it to pay off his debt.’

‘Debt?’ You reluctantly accept the glass that he brings to you. You eye him carefully, and he responds by giving you a smile.

‘Gambling. As you know, that’s a richman’s best friend. Until it isn’t.’

‘Why the Premier Rose Diamond? Why not just a piece from the Cullian Diamond?’ You take a sip from your glass, and then fix him with a smirk. ‘I thought you liked challenges.’

The man shakes his head, smiling. ‘Not yet. The most expensive fruit isn’t always the best.’ You snort.

‘Suit yourself,’ you shrug. ‘But, why are you telling me this? Is it being held here?’ Even if it is his target, you wouldn’t resist the urge to chase after the same diamond. Maybe, this time, you would be able to catch him off guard and take the diamond for yourself. If you remember correctly, the diamond must be worth around fifteen million dollars, as the price rates have increased. It’s tempting, for sure. It would cover more than your expenses while you are laying low from the police, and it would allow you to rest for a long time before taking another heist.

‘It’s close, yes,’ he answers, with a glint in his eye. ‘It’ll be in an auction in Nova Lima.’

‘That’s, what, two thousand kilometers away?’

‘Precisely.’

You nod and twirl the glass in your hand. You look into the red liquid, deep in thought. Nova Lima is one of the many regions and cities where the Brazilian wealthy classes can be found. Not that poverty does not exist there, regardless, but the upper middle and high social classes do their best to pretend as if those people do not exist, or they spare them with little regard or kindness. Discontentment has been more than common in the country because of the uneven and unequal distribution of wealth.

Of course, not everything is perfect, and, behind every wealthy man and woman, behind every “self-made” millionaire, there is a story that is untold, a story that has been constructed and completely and falsely fabricated. Everyone has their own demons, after all. Could the owner of the Primer Rose Diamond be selling it just to clear off his gambling debts, or is there something else to the story?

‘I believe his name is Davi Souza. He’s CEO of perhaps the number one mining company in Brazil.’ Lupin takes a sip of the wine, crossing his leg on top of his knee. ‘Money is like an accessory for him, right now. Well, it used to be, before he took the huge debt that has him now owing money to the banks. Gambling is a poison that strips you off your money, and, when you have nothing more to offer, your soul.’

‘Poetic.’

Lupin chuckles, before continuing, ‘He is holding up the auction in one of his estates, and the money will be given straight to the bank.’

You raise an eyebrow. ‘You plan to steal that diamond to feed him to the wolves.’

‘Men like Souza never learn, chérie,’ his eyes look straight into yours, even though they have darkened. Either it is personal, or he has heard that story before. ‘No better solution than to make him pay behind bars. I am sure there are lots of people who would love to have a word with him.’ He quickly spots a smile, leaning back as he drinks more of the expensive wine. ‘See, Pops has more people to worry about than us.’

‘You mean, than you,’ you correct him. ‘Interpol wants nothing to do with me, as far as I’m aware. You’re closer to an international celebrity than you know.’

Lupin shrugs. ‘You never know the future.’

You turn to look at the watch on the wall. ‘Well, it’s about time you go.’ You stand up, brushing off your skirt. ‘And don’t expect me to be this nice and hospitable to you ever again.’

‘Aw, you wound me, chérie,’ he puts a hand on his chest, giving you a pout. ‘But, you’re right, and I don’t want to overstay my welcome.’ He stands up and puts the empty glass back on the kitchen counter. Then, he turns on his heel, giving you a mischievous, yet childish, smile.

As he approaches, you clench your hand around the glass and narrow your eyes into a threatening glare. Yet, he continues to walk up to you, carefree of whatever you may be thinking — or, using Jigen’s words — plotting against him. You remember the harmless threats that had been running through your mind since the first time you spotted him here, and you know that your glare might actually be as harmful as a little butterfly.

Lupin reaches inside his shirt, and he pulls out a piece of paper. ‘For you.’

You reluctantly accept the paper and unfold it. There is an address written on it. From the name, it is more than two hours away from your current hotel. For what reason would he give you this address? Could it be—

He confirmed your suspicions. ‘It’s our hideout. We’ll be waiting for your response there. You can send a little postcard if you’re so inclined,’ he leaned forward, ‘or, you can bless us with your presence.’ He tries to give you a flirtatious smile, which you completely dismiss as you shove your clenched fist into his chest.

‘What makes you think I’ll help you, especially after you have taken my treasure and endangered my life due to your stupid thrills?’ He raises his arms up in surrender, just as he had when he first entered the room, but his face is nothing but fearful; he spots a confident smile, which throws you off guard.

‘We’ll split the money evenly amongst everyone,’ he replies. ‘I want to make it up for you.’

‘Bullshit, Lupin. I don’t need your help!’

Lupin turns on his heel, ignoring your frustration. ‘It’s not often that you see a diamond like this one. It will be an easy target, Souza doesn’t have much money left for security. The thrill is definitely worth the money you’d earn.’ He opens the hotel room, turning his head to throw you a wink over his shoulder. ‘Adieu, chérie.’

You huff angrily as he closes the door behind him. Such a narcissist, you clench the paper tighter around your hand. Bold of him to assume I’ll just do whatever he wants. Does he think that, by flirting with you, he will be able to get what he wants? Perhaps he is too used to having things done his way, too used to succeeding in his achievements and dreams.

I’m not the one who’s plotting, you think. Jigen’s clearly looking in the wrong direction.

You look back at the address on the paper, deep in thought. The offer is indeed tempting, and it suddenly feels invasive — as if he had been able to read your mind. You have always had a thing for jewelry, and perhaps that is what he took away from your first encounter and the way you were dressed for the party in France. What else do you know about me?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

4M, or the deal is off. — C.

D'accord. ♡— Lupin III

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

↪ continue to part two

#lupin iii x reader #lupin x reader #arséne lupin iii x reader #arséne lupin iii #lupin iii #lupin the third #lupin the 3rd #x reader #reader #reader-insert #fanfic #fanfiction #fic: what a thing to admit

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actual-changeling · 2 months ago

Note

i sent you an anon before and you’ve answered i just don’t have anyone to talk about this with!! you dont have to answer :))) just venting

i cannot and will not engage with the tlou2 as it will send me into a depressive spiral. not in like a i can’t deal with sad media way like i love Love depressing shit i am good at watching media that is uncomfortable or sad on purpose in *constructive* ways.

however this one feels so unnecessarily depressing and just done for shock value. you’ve been over the reasons before and i’ve shared my reasons before so i won’t get into it again,,

joel is not dead! sorry guys my brain my headcannon

i am just nervous because i know it’s gonna be like everywhere and it’s going to be hard to avoid. but again my head my AU!!! so ill just reread the fics that make me feel better (like yours) when i inevitably run into tlou2 media

do you have an advice for this??

thank you :))

ps i have started xfiles… just finished season one i have so many thoughts i love them so much

ahh yes, tlou2. you're always welcome to talk about it with me!

honestly? block everything and anything related to it. protect your peace of mind. tumblr makes it pretty easy to get rid of content you do not want to see, and depending on your browser there are extensions that blacklist certain websites or words.

even having played both games, i can ignore canon and pick & choose what i want to keep and what belongs in the garbage. i stopped engaging with tlou for a lot of reasons, and i think if i were to get back into it, i'd still manage to build a (more or less) positive bubble.

it's really a bit about mastering the art of not giving a fuck. whenever i do see something i do not want to, i tell myself "not my circus, not my monkeys" until i forget it exists lol

while i do have the small hope that tlou s2 will not follow the game too closely, i'm taking away custody from n/il. the characters belong to US now, fuck him.

maybe once my mental health allows it i'll return to writing fics. for now rest assured that i'll try my best to tag anything if i do end up reblogging a gifset or post every once in a while!

also hell yeah for x files!! i love pulling more people into this hyperfixation vortex. you're very much invited to talk about that too.

#alex answers asks #alex yells at the void

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ask-little-red-riding-luz · 2 years ago

Text

Little Red Riding Luz Chapter 7: The Deal

“Alright, Mr. Plantar, enjoy your cinnamon rolls!”

“And you keep being one!”

Luz stuck her tongue out at the old man before humming and walking away from the farmer’s stall. It had been a few days now since the wolf attack and she was more than happy to put it behind her and get back to things being normal. To deliver her pastries, learn how to make new ones, and just live. Just enjoy the sun on her face and the sound of squealing children from Boscha torturing them. Yep, all as it was-

She stopped dead before turning to the sound of Boscha and a kid arguing about something. She caught the glint of steel in the sun before her brain jumped far ahead of her and she screeched, “Boscha!”

The rough girl looked up from where she was set up in the market with an unimpressed glare. She currently had a death grip on one of the kids from the orphanage and in the other hand was one of her smaller knives. The boy was further trapped by being pinned against a chair she had out which was really all that designated that the space was anyone’s since Boscha didn’t have a sign up or anything. She spent a moment squeezing the boy to make sure he remembered not to move before asking, “What, Luz?”

Luz ran over before looking around the area. She didn’t see Steve, the person who ran the orphanage, and none of the nearby grown ups seemed to be all too concerned about their local hunter looking like she was ready to skin someone. She then looked down and paled as she saw the hair on the ground. “You’re not attacking him, are you?”

“No.”

“Or doing this against his own will?”

“Oh, I am one hundred percent doing that but that’s because if his bangs get any longer, he won’t be able to see.”

Luz groaned at that before mumbling, “When did you start doing haircuts?”

Boscha looked at her knife for a second before taking a quick swipe in front of the kid’s face to get rid of any hair that would go in front of his eyes before shoving him away. “Get out of here before I change my mind.” She then sheathed the knife on a belt she wore that had a second scabbard for her larger knife, which she rarely went anywhere without. It also helped keep up a pair of rough pants that were what she wore on days she didn’t hunt.

Finally, she smoothed out her tunic before gesturing to the seat. “Do you want one? Steve had been lamenting about how donations had been thin this month so I offered to give it a shot and he said I wasn’t half bad with my blade. He then said he’d get me a pair of scissors but, uh, no. I’m not some gaudy fashion queen after all.”

Luz giggled a little bit before shaking her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass today. I have too many deliveries to make and Eda is teaching me how to make Monkey Bread after the shop closes tonight so I need to get going. Try not to cut off any ears though!”

Boscha grinned before shouting after her friend, “But then how are they supposed to pay,” which got a giggle out of Luz. She was serious about her deliveries though, especially since Eda hadn’t taught her a new recipe in over a month. There was always something getting in the way, like her being too tired, having indulged too much in the ‘cooking wine’, which Luz suspected was just wine and she was trying to stiff the girl on trying it, she kept in the back, or just not feeling like it. She didn’t want to push her mentor of course but she was fourteen already. A young woman by the standards of the time and she felt entirely unprepared to try and run a shop of her own, let alone anything like what Boscha did.

She paused at that before sighing. Add barber to the list of things that made Boscha better than her. It wasn’t Boscha’s fault. When her dad was alive, he had been hard on her to train her to be the master huntsman that she was and her family’s close relationship to Steve’s had opened up doors for her to learn even more. Not that she always had taken them but it felt like she knew so much. Was so much better than the town she stayed in. One day she’d finally get accepted into the hunter’s lodge one town over and probably move, if one of those hunters didn’t try to marry her first. She was still surprised no one had begun trying to court her for that matter. She was so strong, pretty, and talented…

And female. That one was always a rough one to recall. Her mom pushed her not to worry so much about being different but Luz hadn’t even come out to her about thoughts like these. It might have been easier if Boscha showed literally an ounce of interest in her like that. Or in stuff like that in general. Her stunt of running through town almost naked because of someone in distress wasn’t a first time thing after all but good luck making Boscha even flinch about it.

No, she was probably too focused on her job to even think about that sort of stuff, let alone with some weirdo like her. Of course, Boscha could always use something to eat so maybe one day she’d get to be the hunter’s lodge’s personal baker when Boscha was leading it?

But then she’d be gone from her mom… “Ugh, why does life have to be so complicated? Why can’t anything just be simple?”

“I’ll make this simple then, human. You scream, you die.”

Luz froze where she stood before slowly, very slowly turning to the side. She then felt every blood vessel in her body turn to ice as she saw a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the nearby bushes. The same eyes that kept showing up in the nightmares she’d been having. That had been making her wake up in a cold sweat that she didn’t dare tell even her mom about. Then again, she hadn’t told her mom about the wolf attack at all to try and make sure she didn’t get worried about her or make it so she couldn’t come to town for a while. Now was not the time to think about that though.

Now was time to deal with the fact that the wolf was here. She was almost certain it was the same one as the one that attacked her. Bare minimum, there was no way it was the one that had seen her near the Deep Woods. She couldn’t help but be both impressed and terrified that the wolf was this close to the market without getting spotted but Luz had managed to pick a fairly secluded spot to have her bout of gay panic in so that could have been part of it. The fact that someone could show up at anytime though was likely why the wolf hadn’t pounced on her yet.

Unless…

“Good. You can listen. Keep doing so. Meet me where I attacked you. Now.”

Luz didn’t get a chance to respond before the eyes vanished and the wolf became a blur that raced between bush to bush. If she didn’t know where to look or what to look for, Luz wasn’t sure she would have been able to tell that the wolf had been there or that it was running away but she did. She did and she now had to deal with the fact that she had three options in front of her.

Option one was the most reasonable. She’d run back to the market, get Boscha, and they would use this meeting as a trap. Boscha would get to kill her first wolf and probably would even be praised as a hero for it. She might even be able to use it to apply to the Hunter’s Lodge. Luz would need to betray the wolf though after offering another one a deal. A deal it might be wanting to take…

Okay, so that was out of the picture. Option two was just to continue with her deliveries. She was busy after all and she had a future to think of. However, that might just piss off the wolves and they’d come after her in return. Maybe to talk. More likely to hunt and, well, she’d deliver one last meal in return or the mistake at least…

Which left option three, which she had already started making her way towards before she’d even gone over the other two. She knew the other options after all but she didn’t want to treat them as options. She wanted to believe in what had happened in the woods after all. In what her mom had taught her about nature. In the fact that she was spared for a reason and maybe that could make something better out of all of this.

Maybe even finally a second friend her age. If wolves aged like humans. Or she had gotten a proper look before. She’d been too focused on the soft looking paws and pretty eyes to really take in too much of the wolf before. Was that rude? Probably. She’d just been so cute though! And wow would Boscha put her down faster than even a wolf could if she knew what she was doing and thinking right now.

“Are you going to stop?”

Luz yelped at the sudden voice before looking around her. There was no one she could see though. Not even scanning for the wolf’s eyes yielded anything which made her giggle nervously as she said, “Um, well, I was thinking that maybe we could walk down the path. Enjoy the sun. Together. Out here.”

“No.” The response helped Luz at least pinpoint where the wolf was, behind one of the larger trees, but the seriousness of the tone still made her uneasy. She still didn’t know what the plan was after all. What the wolf intended for her. At least the tree meant that the wolf couldn’t pounce on her, not immediately at least.

Her eyes then glanced at her side where she had Boscha’s dagger and she swallowed hard at the idea of having used it. If the wolf hadn’t stopped her, she wouldn’t have thought about it when the beast attacked. But… She didn’t. The wolf had stopped her herself and now kept this space between them. Luz’s breathing suddenly eased before she said, “Okay, but maybe we can some other time? I spend my weekends with my mom after all and wouldn’t mind the company out here.”

There was a pause from the other girl before the wolf said, “Maybe. Father is the one who told me I should come. After all,” another pause came with the sound of claws faintly scratching bark before, “you offered us tribute. Food for protection. Food that we can’t commonly get otherwise. My family sees that as a good start.”

Luz swallowed hard at that before whispering, “Start? I don’t really know what else I can give you. I don’t really own a lot and Eda doesn’t give me much of an allowance most of the time…”

“We only ask for a service from you.” There was then more light scratching before finally the wolf said, “My parents want me to have a living practice dummy. Something that will give me experience in chasing and taking down larger prey. That something could be you. In return, we’ll leave you be otherwise.”

Luz scratched her cheek as her blood ran cold at the idea of being ‘taken down’ by a beast like the wolf but she tried not to show it too much in her voice. “That sounds… lovely.” Emphasis on tried. “But, uh, you only really get to take something down once so I’m not really sure what you’re getting at.”

“I took you down once. You now stand in front of me again. Isn’t that enough evidence for you?”

Oh. Right. Luz sucked in her lips before asking the question that was really dogging the back of her mind. The thing that made her wonder why they were even discussing this. After all, this was a wolf. A beast. It was making a deal but… “What if I say no? What happens then?”

There was a long silence at that. The wolf didn’t even scratch at the tree but Luz slowly realized that that could mean she moved. That the wolf was getting into a better position from which to show Luz what would happen if she said no. Her heart began to speed up as she broke out into a cold sweat but she didn’t say anything. Didn’t do anything. She didn’t even know what she could do about it if they were getting ready. The knife? Maybe if her arm would move.

“I don’t know.”

Luz blinked a few times before staring at the tree, her eyes trying to bore their way through the tree. After all, she sounded… scared. But she was a wolf! “What?”

The wolf obviously struggled to keep their tone even as they spoke. “I don’t know. I asked the same question to my father but we don’t have an answer for you. He said it’d be bad to. I don’t know why but… But if you say no or want to get rid of any parts then you can and there’s not really anything I can do about it.”

The poor girl sounded like she was close to tears by the end of the admission and the sound of bark and wood cracking and scraping against her claws only helped make Luz’s chest hurt. Immediately, she regretted what she’d been thinking. The fact that she’d even expected this to be a trap felt wrong to her. After all, the wolf didn’t kill her before, neither did her dad, and she asked for her rather than just waiting for nightfall and sneaking into the bakery.

Luz sighed as she placed a hand on the tree before whispering, “I accept but, and you don’t need to agree to this because I don’t want to do that to you, can you avoid Boscha? Or doing anything that would make her have to hunt you down? Um, Boscha being the hunter. Your dad probably saw us out together actually but, um, well… If we’re going to be friends, I don’t want you two fighting or getting in trouble because of each other. Okay?”

The response came a lot slower than Luz expected and the voice was now closer as the wolf seemed to have moved around more to the side of the tree. “Friends?”

Luz blinked a few times before giggling nervously. “Oh, uh, I guess that’s a little much. I’m your prey after all.” She then crouched and swiped at the air playfully before adding, “But I was hoping we could at least play a bit with it. A little cat and mouse.”

One of the wolf’s paws came into view before she whispered, “You’re not scared?”

Luz glanced away for a second before grabbing her arm. “I mean, kind of? But if you wanted to hurt me, you’d have done it already, right? If you mean it though, I don’t see any reason why we can’t try to have some fun with all of this. It’s not like you can just tackle me to the ground a hundred times without getting bored after all.”

Finally, slowly, the wolf came out from behind the tree. She had surprisingly pale skin for a beast and wore a long, simple, black dress that ended at her knees and was kept pulled in on her small frame by a rope tied off at her waist. She nervously scratched at one of her paws before looking away and saying, “I guess that’s not inaccurate.”

Luz didn’t entirely hear her though as she gasped. “You’re even cuter standing!”

Amity’s cheeks immediately turned red before she pointed a finger at Luz and shouted, “Don’t call me that!”

Luz jumped at the command before holding her hands in front of her. “Sorry. Sorry. I don’t really know what to call you though. I can think up some nicknames though. Uh… Pounce? No. Shadow? Spooks? Oooh, I like that one. Oh, what about Mischief? Just like the sort we’ll be causing together.”

The wolf laced her claws together and squeezed them tightly before whispering, “Amity.”

Luz blinked a few times at the statement before gasping. “That’s such a pretty name!”

Amity’s face looked like it was about to start steaming and she coughed and turned away to try and save some face as she said, “I-I guess we understand each other then. I’ve been gone for too long though so… bye. I’ll be back tomorrow for your first tribute though.”

She then paused and looked over her shoulder. Luz blinked a few times before paling and scrambling to get out, “Oh, my name. Right. That makes sense. Um, Luz. Noceda. Two words. Two names. First and last. Do wolves have two names? Not that it really matters but… And she’s gone.” She then slapped herself with a groan and mumbled, “Thank goodness she made me stop.”

Not that Amity was faring much better as she thought she was going to have a panic attack. Why did the compliments mess with her? Why did her not forcing them to listen to her request make her happy? Was her dad onto something about what he’d said? Why was her heart about to explode?

No. None of it mattered. She needed to get home. Needed to tell her parents the news and hope she didn’t mess anything up. She would leave out the friend part though. After all, she was supposed to be doing this to become a better hunter, not to have fun.

But the idea of not just pouncing on the girl when they were together felt… nice. Really nice.

#Boscha #Luz #Luscha #Amity #Lumity #The Owl House #Ask Blog

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niqhtlord01 · 3 years ago

Photo

Brace yourself folks because you’re about to get bitch slapped from the past by yet another round of Rooster Teeth Championship!

We’ve seen plenty of violence here on this show. Old men beating up kids, kids beating up old men, god like beings ducking it out with sentient scarecrows, and even a monkey boy fighting a literal murder cloud of technology; so we’ve had to wrack our brains on how to find the step up from that.

So like any other popular franchise we used the most powerful cheese tool of all, time travel.

That’s right fans, we’re about to see the smack down between season 1 RWBY characters and their mentally scared counter parts from season 8.

So sit back, grab a snack, and enjoy the fragility of innocence be destroyed before your very eyes.

Ruby 1: *Twirls scythe as walking in* Ruby 8: Don’t be afraid, I’m from the future. Ruby 1: Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Does anything exciting happen? Ruby 8: *Twirls scythe* Ahhhhhhhh……..yes? ------------------------------------- Yang 8: *Rides in on motorcycle and leaps off* Yang 1: So if you are from the future, can you tell me how I get the robot arm? Yang 8: Fist fight with your lovers ex. Yang 1: *Cocks shotgun wrists* Nice. ------------------------------------- Weiss 8: *Bounces off several glyphs before landing* Weiss 1: Why should I believe that you are from the future? Weiss 8: I can tell you what skin treatment makes you stop looking as white as snow. Weiss 1: *Spins cartridges in sword* Alright, I immediately believe you. ------------------------------------- Blake 1: *Swings in on rope* Blake 8: You’re going to want to start trusting your friends a lot sooner than you think you should. Blake 1: Oh, and why’s that? Blake 8: *Splits sword in two* Because I know when he is going to catch up to you, and it won’t be pretty. ------------------------------------- Ozpin: *Walks in with cane* Oscar: Well this is awkward. Ozpin: You get used to it after a few centuries. Oscar: *Extends cane* That does not make me feel any better. ------------------------------------- Cinder 1: *Walks through flames* Cinder 8: Oh what power you shall have in the years to come. Cinder 1: Or I can take yours and have it now. Cinder 8: *Moves cloak to reveal grimm arm* You can try, but know all power comes with a cost. ------------------------------------- Mercury 8: *Kicks air rapidly before doing roundhouse* Mercury 1: All I want to know is if Cinder ever grows up and stops her evil scheming. Mercury 8: No to both and she loses an arm and an eye as a result. Mercury 1: *Kicks air* Ha! Priceless. ------------------------------------- Yang 8: *Rides in on motorcycle and flips off* Yang 1: Do we get to fight anything cool? Yang 8: Do you me the mountain sized giant robot, or the mountain sized grimm? Yang 1: *Cocks shotgun wrists* Be still my beating heart. ------------------------------------- Emerald 1: *Walks in twirling guns* Emerald 8: You need to get as far away from Cinder as you can. Emerald 1: I would never do that to her! Emerald 8: *Draws guns* She’ll never return what you feel. ------------------------------------ Jaune 8: *Walks in turning sword and shield into claymore* Jaune 1: That’s so cool! Jaune 8: I know right? Jaune 1: *Draws sword from shield* I can’t wait to tell Pyrrha about it. ------------------------------------ Blake 8: *Swings in* Blake 1: Will we ever be free from him? Blake 8: In the end he gets everything that is coming to him. Blake 1: *Splits sword* The universe has small mercies after all. ------------------------------------ Ren 1: *Flips into the ring* Ren 8: Those you follow will betray you in the end. Ren 1: I refuse to believe in such predictions. Ren 8: *Takes combat stance* Then let the dead be payment for your ignorance. --------------------------------- Nora 8: *Smashes through wall* Nora 1: Everyone keeps sounding off how the future is all doom and gloom lately. Nora 8: Well, I did finally hook up with Ren. Nora 1: *Pulls out hammer* Tell me everything! ----------------------------------- Weiss 8: *Leaps off glyphs and lands* Weiss 1: How dare you interrupt my lunch! Wait until my father hears about this! Weiss 8: Was I really so nagging? Weiss 1: *Angrily spins cartridges in sword* What did you say?! ----------------------------------- Glynda 8: *Walks in and snaps riding crop* Glynda 1: I take it you nurtured the students into becoming fine huntsmen and huntresses. Glynda 8: After the school fell and Ozpin died I honestly stopped caring about anything, let alone being a good teacher. Glynda 1: *Snaps riding crop* Would you care to repeat that? I feel like you skipped some important elaboration. ----------------------------------- Penny 8: *Lands after rocket boots shut off* Penny 1: I bet you have wonderful stories to tell! Penny 8: Well first I made a bunch of friends, then died, then was brought back to Atlas to be repaired, became a real girl, but then died again shortly thereafter. Penny 1: *Blades extend from back* Oh. My. Gosh……I make friends!!! --------------------------------------- Ruby 8: *Walks in twirling scythe* Ruby 1: I’m scared that I’m not ready for what’s ahead. Ruby 8: There will be hard times ahead, and you will lose people you care about; but those around you put their faith in you and with that nothing is impossible. Ruby 1: *Twirls scythe* Huh, never really saw myself as the leading type.

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

Text

Trial Run

Part one and three

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers!

Synopsis: last week you hated each other, this week you’re making out in his bed.

Masterlist

Since you and Peter weren’t exactly friends before, you didn’t have each other’s numbers. You had no way of communicating with him once you went home. Meaning, you had no idea what you’d be walking in to on Monday. All you knew was you made out with your former rival. You didn’t know what it meant to him; you barely knew what it meant to you. So when you saw him at the lockers upon entering school, you had to brace yourself.

You walked up to your locker and kept your head straight as you unlocked it. You could feel Peter’s eyes on you, just as you could feel him fumbling for words to say.

“Hey.” You said casually without looking over at him. You were doing your best to play it cool, when you were internally freaking out around him.

“Hey.” Peter said immediately, overly excited that you were the first to speak. “How are you? Um, how was your weekend?”

“Good.” You said simply. “How was yours?”

“Good.” Peter nodded. He stared at you for a minute as he worked up the courage to say something better.

“I thought about you a lot.” He said quietly, adverting his eyes so he wouldn’t lose his nerve. You sucked in a sharp breath, hating how easily he could fluster you.

“Did you now?” You asked without looking at him.

“Yeah.” He smiled shyly. “I really liked it when you kissed me.”

You couldn’t help smiling at his words, despite you trying to fight it. You looked at him, saw his signature shit eating grin, and rolled your eyes.

“I liked it too.” You said quietly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Okay, good.” He nodded happily. “We’re on the same page.”

“I guess we are.” You looked at him as you shut your locker.

“In that case, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asked hopefully as he twisted his shirt around his fingers. For once, you found his nervous behavior to be cute. You wanted to say yes, but you had to make sure he was all in first.

“Not yet.” You decided. “I said I’d be willing to give this a try. I can’t commit to anything until I know what kind of boyfriend you’d make.”

“How can I prove to you that I’d be a good boyfriend?” Peter wondered. You pursed your lips as you thought about it, not having thought that far ahead. You looked down at the books in your arms and held them out to him.

“Carry my books.” You instructed.

“Okay.” Peter took your books from you and walked with you when you moved.

“I like old fashioned romantic gestures.” You explained as you walked together. “Carrying books, opening the door, asking the father for permission to date, things like that. I want a gentleman. I wouldn’t date anything less.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded as he made a metal note. “I can be a gentleman.”

“Walk faster.” You commanded, and he picked up his pace. “I don’t just want you to be a gentleman though. You have to be rough with me sometimes. Tell me when I’m being ridiculous and shut me up with a kiss every now and then.”

“Nice. I finally know a way to shut you up.” Peter joked.

“Cute.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m telling you all of this now because I think communication is the most important thing in a relationship. This is what I want in a relationship. If you can’t give it to me, then we’ll just be friends. No harm done.”

“Okay. Gentleman, kisses, books. I can do this.” Peter hyped himself up.

“Good.” You smiled and stopped walking. “So what are your conditions for a relationship?”

“I don’t know if I have any.” Peter realized. “I’ve never been in a a relationship before.”

“Well what do you want from me?” You asked him. Peter thought about it for a minute before making a decision.

“Can I hold your hand?” He asked, and you fought back a smile at his innocence. You looked down at his free hand and frowned suddenly as something dawned on you.

“Are you still gonna like me if I start being nice to you?” You asked without looking at him.

“What?” He asked. “Of course I will.”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head. “What if you had some underlying degradation kink that I was fueling? And if I stop being mean to you, you’ll stop liking me.”

“I liked you before you were mean to me.” Peter assured. “And I don’t have that kink. At least, I don’t think I do.”

You looked at him for a minute, unsure of what you wanted.

“I don’t want to start this if you’re gonna break my heart.” You said quietly.

“Hey.” He said comfortingly. “I won’t do that. I’ve never broken a girls heart before.”

“Didn’t you say you’ve never been in a relationship before?”

“Yes.” He realized. “But even if I had, I wouldn’t have broken anyones heart. Not on purpose, at least. You have just as much of a chance of breaking mine.”

“I’ll try not to.” You smiled a little.

“I would appreciate that.” He told you. Your smile widened as you fell just a little bit more for Peter. You let out a dramatic sigh and looked up at the ceiling.

“You can hold my hand.” You said like it was inconvenient for you.

“I appreciate that even more.” Peter grinned as he took your hand. You continued walking to class, hand in hand.

You reached your classroom and stood outside of it, hesitant to go inside. You’d only ever sat in that class as Peter’s rival, and now you guys were almost dating. You looked at him holding your books and squeezed his hand gently.

“Just so you know, I want this to work.” You told him honestly. Peter’s cheeks turned pink as he gave you a small nod.

“I do too.”

“Good.” You smiled. “Now get inside. I don’t like being late.”

You and Peter walked into the classroom hand and hand with his books still in his arms. Before you could take a seat, your teacher stopped you.

“Wow.” She folded her arms and smirked. “It looks like my plan worked.”

“I’m sorry?” You asked.

“Making you guys partners seems to have paid off.” She pointed to your books in Peter’s arms.

“Peter was just taking a break from his usually monkey brained self to do something polite.” You stammered.

“And Y/n couldn’t carry her books because she’s too busy carrying the weight of being the most obnoxious person in this part of New York.” Peter followed up.

“Mhm.” She nodded. “And the hand holding?”

“It was his idea.” You said at the same time as Peter said, “She let me.”

“Right.” She clicked her tongue. “Take a seat you two.”

You and Peter took your usual seats and kept quiet the entire class. The rest of the class was quick to notice the absence of the typical taunting banter that usually occurred between you and Peter. In its place, much to everyone’s surprise, was your dangling hands holding each other’s under the desks. His left hand was reaching forward while yours was reaching back, meeting in the middle and staying that way throughout the period. You didn’t know why you let him hold you hand the entire time. He didn’t know either. All you knew was you liked the feeling of his hand in yours.

At lunch time, you found yourself walking towards Peter’s table instead of sitting with your other friends. You had no idea why you wanted to sit with him, but you felt yourself missing him throughout your classes. You silently put your lunch down next to him and began to eat. Peter and Ned exchanged a look and Peter nearly choked on his food.

“You’re sitting here?” Peter asked with a mouth full of food.

“Is there a problem?” You asked as you looked between him and Ned.

“No.” Peter shook his head. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m happy to see you.”

“Shut up, loser.” You snickered as you leaned into him. He leaned back before wrapping an arms around your shoulders. Ned stared at the two of you in shock, usually accustomed to you going at each other’s throats. When Peter told him you’d kissed, he thought he was kidding.

“So are you guys like a couple now?” Ned asked, interrupting the moment. Peter didn’t know how to answer, so he looked to you.

“We’re giving it a test run.” You shrugged. “For now, we’re just casually dating.”

“When will you know if you want to be a couple?” Ned continued.

“I kinda had the same question.” Peter said sheepishly. You thought about it for minute, not exactly sure of your answer.

“Tell you what.” You decided. “If I ever look at you and feel an overwhelming need to kiss you, thats when I’ll know.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded. “I can work with that.”

“So how’s your project going Ned?” You asked as you changed the subject.

“Well, Gwen and I haven’t started dating, so not as good as yours.” He joked.

“Yeah, well. She’s missing out.” You winked at him.

“Not really.” Ned shrugged. “I’m exactly like Peter, just without the abs.”

“And I’m like Ned without the beautiful Hawaiian complexion.” Peter complimented back.

“Woah. Didn’t realize sitting here meant I’d be third wheeling on your date.” You joked.

“You’re not.” Peter didn’t get the joke. “You can sit here whenever you want.”

“Not that I care”, you prefaced ‘“but did you say Peter had abs? As in defined abdominal muscles?”

“Yeah.” Ned nodded as Peter’s face went red. You looked at him with a knowing smile and he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Don’t.” He warned you.

“I knew you were on steroids!” You said excitedly. “I called it and I was right.”

“I am not on steroids.” Peter whined.

“I knew it.” You insisted. “Your arms got bigger practically overnight and now you have abs?”

“I work out.” Peter lied.

“No you don’t.” You snorted.

“I’m Spider-Man.” He tried again.

“I’d believe you work out before I’d believe that.” You told him, much to his relief.

“Then I guess we’ll never know.” He shrugged, sneaking a knowing glance at Ned. “Do you want to come over later? We can continue working on the project.”

“Sure.” You shrugged, feeling nervous butterflies in your tummy. “I’ll meet you by the lockers after the last bell.”

“Don’t be late.” He smiled.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You deadpanned, making his smile fall.

“I’m just kidding.” You smiled. “God, you’re so gullible.”

“You don’t like to make things easy, do you?” Peter joked as he leaned on his hand to stare at you. The way he was looking at you sent a wave of butterflies into your tummy, causing you to look away.

“Hm.” You grinned. “No I do not.”

“Hey May.” Peter called as he set his keys down by the door. Your heart rate quickened when you heard footsteps coming into the room.

“Hey, Peter. How was your -oh! Hello.” May stopped short when she noticed you standing behind him.

“Hi, Miss Parker. I’m Y/n.” You introduced yourself since you didn’t meet her last time you were over.

“You’re Y/n?” May asked. “The one from your physics class?”

“Yeah. Peter and I have a few classes together actually.”

“Is this the one you called a b-“

“Beautiful, sweet Angel.” Peter cut her off and smiled at you. “Yes, this is her.”

“Oh.” She was surprised. “Hi. You can call me May.”

“It’s nice to meet you, May.” You smiled as you shook her hand.

“You too. Wow.” She laughed. “You’re nothing like I pictured.”

“May.” Peter said warningly.

“What?” She asked. “The way you described her, I figured she had horns and a little tail.”

“Oh, I do.” You nodded. “I just hide them well.”

“Peter.” May said pointedly. “She’s not nearly as bad as you told me. What are you guys doing here anyway?”

“We have a group project.” He said.

“We’re also dating.” You followed up. Peter looked at you in pleasant surprised, feeling very happy that you said that.

“Finally.” May scoffed. “I knew you liked her. No one whines that much about a girl he doesn’t like.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it.” May said. “Do you guys need anything before I go? Snacks? Drinks? Condoms?”

“We’ll take some condoms.” You said casually. May raised her eyebrows as Peter choked on his saliva.

“Kidding.” You said through an awkward smile. “That was a joke. Thank you, though.”

“We’re gonna go to my room now.” Peter quickly ushered you out of the room. “Bye May!”

“It was nice meeting you!” You called as he pushed you into his room. As soon as his door was closed, you put your hands on your hips.

“You told you aunt I was a bitch.” You pointed at him accusingly.

“No.” Peter pointed back at you. “I told her you were a brat.”

“Oh.” You relaxed. “Well that’s not that bad.”

“Is that a deal breaker?” Peter worried. “I kinda told her we hate each other.”

“Peter, you have to stop being so worried about messing this up.” You said as you rubbed his arms. “I told you, I want this to work. You have to relax a little.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time believing you like me back.”

“I like you some of the time.” You shrugged before cracking a smile.

“Hey.” He whined.

“I’m teasing.” You told him. “I’m just getting used to being nice to you. If it makes you feel better, I’m starting to like you a lot more.”

“I guess that does make me feel better.” He mumbled.

“Good.” You smiled and patted his cheek. “Now stop whining about it, brat.”

“You’re the brat.” He scoffed playfully as he put his hand over yours. You sucked in a breath at how close you were, hearing your heartbeat in your ears. Peter’s eyes fell to your lips before going back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly.

“Shut the fuck up.” You matched his soft tone with a harsh one.

“Okay.” He backed up. “Sorry.”

“I’m kidding.” You assured him as you pulled him back to you. “You can kiss me.”

He rolled his eyes at you before cracking a smile.

“You’re mean.” He mumbled as he put his hands on your face.

“Yeah, but you like that.” You whispered as you leaned up to kiss him. He pulled your closer by your face as you slid your hands under his shirt. He was a surprisingly good kisser for someone who had never been in a relationship before, and you wanted to test his limits. You dragged your fingernails down his stomach and just as Ned told you, he had abs. He groaned at the unfamiliar feeling and began to move backwards. You followed him until you both fell on the bed. Peter rolled on top of you and continued kissing you, slipping his fingers through yours to hold your hands. You licked his bottom lip and he took the hint to open his mouth. His kisses were clumsy and awkward, but you absolutely loved them. You made out on his bed just like last time, your project long forgotten. Neither of you had any idea how much time had passed before you both collapsed on his bed to catch your breath. You rolled over and rested your head on Peter’s chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath you. You rested your hand on his stomach, mindlessly playing with the soft material of his sweater.

“Hm.” You pouted as Peter wrapped an arm around you and rubbed your shoulder with his thumb.

“What’s wrong?” He wondered.

“I really like you.” You realized as you made a disgusted face.

“Is that a bad thing?” He chuckled.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. “I don’t want to have feelings. Especially not for you. We’re supposed to be enemies but…”

“But what?” Peter asked when you trailed off.

“But I never want to leave this bed.” You mumbled as you you held him closer. Peter laughed again and kissed the top of your head.

“It’s okay.” He insisted. “I really like you too.”

“Gross.”

“If I have to stop worrying about messing this up, you have to stop worrying about letting this happen.” He reasoned. “It’s okay that we like each other. I didn’t see it coming either.”

You let out a sigh and gazed up at him.

“I hate when you’re right.” You mumbled.

“You’re gonna have to get used to that.” He told you as he stroked your face.

“Why would I get used to something that only happens once a month?” You asked. He gave you a look so you smiled.

“Kidding.” You told him. “We can still bully each other, right? Or does that have to stop if we’re dating.”

“It depends. You said you need communication, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “I don’t like it when you make jokes about me being on steroids. I’m scared people are going to believe you and then I’m gonna have to pee in a cup in front of the principle. I’m very pee shy.”

“Thank you for letting me know.” You laughed. “I won’t make those jokes anymore.”

“What about me?” He asked. “What’s off limits?”

“Well unlike you, I can take a joke, so nothing is off limits for me.” You shrugged, always taking the opportunity to tease him.

“Hardy har.” He said sarcastically.

“Actually, wait.” You thought of something. “Don’t call me a bitch. Brat is fine but bitch crosses the line.”

“That’s easy.” He said. “I only ever called you that in my head anyway.”

You gave him a look and he laughed.

“Kidding.” He mimicked your voice. “You have my word. I won’t ever call you that.”

“All right.” You sighed in content. “I feel better now.”

“Does this mean I can start calling you my girlfriend?” Peter asked.

“Not yet.” You decided. “I haven’t decided if I want to do this for real yet. I’m still weighing my options.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Take your time. No pressure.”

“Well that makes it sound like you don’t care either way.” You whined as you sat up.

“I do. I do care.” He assured you as he sat up. “But I don’t want to rush you. I really want to give this a try, but only if you do too.”

You looked at him for a while as you processed what he said.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He wondered.

“You’re making it really hard to justify not liking you all these years.” You told him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Good.” He shrugged. “I want you to like me.”

“I got my heart broken pretty badly in the past.” You whispered. “Because I liked someone a little too much.”

“I already told you, I’m not gonna break your heart. I’m not like that.”

Your lips tweaked into a smile before you leaned in to kiss him.

“You better not be.”

You continued casually dating Peter throughout the week, getting closer to telling him you wanted to be his girlfriend every day. He carried your books for you, opened your door, and shut you up with kisses, just like you asked. By Friday, you were ready to make it official. You found him in the hallway between classes but before you could tell him what you decided on, he started to speak.

“What are you doing after school today?” He asked as he bounced on his heels.

“Volunteer Club was cancelled so nothing.” You answered. “Why?”

“I want to take you somewhere.” He explained. “But it’s a surprise.”

“I knew it.” You shook your head. “I knew you and your cult were gonna kill me.”

“There is no cult.” He huffed. “Just meet me here after school, okay?”

“Okay.” You looked at him skeptically as he broke out into a grin. “But what-“

Peter cut you off with a kiss before telling you, “It’s a surprise! No more questions.”

He quickly scurried away before you could ask him anything else, leaving you a blushing mess in the hallway.

After school, you walked with Peter’s hands over your eyes to an unknown location. The walk was pretty far and his hands we’re starting to get sweaty on your face. If you didn’t like him so much, you would have complained.

“Okay.” Peter announced. “We’re here. You can look.”

Peter uncovered your eyes and let you look around. When you realized he had brought you to a cemetery, you looked at him for answers.

“I was doing a little research, I hope you don’t mind.” He prefaced. “This lot is closest to the Grey Sloan Memorial hospital, so it’s where they put most of their car crash victims.”

“Yeah.” You nodded as you kept your eyes ahead. “I know.”

“This is where they buried your parents, right?” He asked quietly. You looked at him, impressed that he was able to find out where they were, and nodded.

“Yeah.” You said softly. “It is.”

“Can you take me to them?” He asked politely. You opened your mouth to speak, but found no words. Instead, you took Peter’s hand and lead him to your parents graves.

There was a pile of roses laid in front of the headstones, all in different stages of decomposition. Peter took his backpack off his shoulders and pulled out two roses. He handed one to you and kept the other in his hand. Before you could say anything, Peter got down on one knee in front of the headstone.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/n, it’s an honor to meet you.” He began. “My name is Peter Parker. I’m sure Y/n has complained about me a few times to you guys. I’ve definitely given her a lot to complain about.”

You chuckled at his words as tears came to your eyes. You thought what he was doing was sweet, if a little morbid. You knew his intentions were pure and that’s what mattered.

“I came here today for two reasons. The first was to meet the parents of the most unpredictable, intelligent, and beautiful person I have ever met. She’s also super annoying. Like, you would not believe how annoying this girl is.” He joked. “Or I guess, maybe you would. In my opinion, she gets a little easier to endure everyday.”

Peter looked back at you to see if you were still listening, and you gave him a thumbs up.

“My other reason for coming here was to formally ask you for permission to date your daughter.” He continued. “I know it’s ultimately her decision, but she likes old fashioned romantic gestures. So here I am, asking for your blessing.”

You covered your mouth with your hand as happy tears fell from your eyes. Not only had Peter remembered what you listed off to him, he followed through with the most thoughtful romantic gesture you’d been given. He turned around again to look at you, shielding his eyes from the setting sun.

“They’re kinda quiet.” Peter joked. “Do you think they said yes?”

“Peter?” You said weakly.

“Yes?”

“I’m feeling that overwhelming need to kiss you right about now.” You told him with a tearful smile.

“I bet you are, loser. Can you give me a minute? I’m in the middle of a conversation.” He rolled his eyes before turning back to the headstone. “So, you guys enjoying the weather?”

You let out a laugh and wiped your face free of tears.

“Peter. Stand up right now.”

Peter obliged and stood up to face you.

“You said you liked romantic gestures.” He began to apologize. “It was either this or I pull out a ouija board and-“

You cut Peter off by throwing your arms around him and kissing him. He kissed you back immediately, stabilizing you as you stumbled into him. Something inexplicable made this kiss feel different from the last ones. This time, you were letting yourself feel everything you wanted to feel for Peter.

“Wait.” You pulled away suddenly and held him back from you.

“What’s wrong?” He worried.

“I don’t want to get caught making out with my boyfriend in a graveyard.” You told him. “That’s too weird. Even for you.”

“You called me your boyfriend.” Peter smiled happily, ignoring everything you said except that.

“Did I?” You played dumb. “I didn’t even notice.”

Tag List 🏷

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker enemies to lovers #peter parker x you #peter parker blurb #peter parker fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #marvel #spiderman

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Note

i've been keeping a list of possible prompts for you and there's one i have no memory of adding that just says "courtesan nmj????" so i guess that's the prompt you're getting lmao

What Does the Fox Say - ao3

“Second Madame Nie!” a disciple shouted, rushing into her little garden. She didn’t recognize him, but he was solidly built and well-muscled like most of the others – truly, the Unclean Realm was a rapturous feast for one with eyes to see it. Yum, yum. “Second Madame Nie, I have bad news!”

Boo. She hated bad news: bad news meant she’d have to do something, usually, and right now she was seated very comfortably in a pleasant piece of sun in the garden path that’d been made up just for her and to her preferences, with her feet up on a chair and a full plate of fruit from the kitchen on the table in front of her just begging to be devoured, morsel by delicious morsel.

Her schedule was packed!

“I regret to tell you, but your husband has been killed!”

“Oh,” she said, frowning slightly. “Has he? How obnoxious of him.”

How unreliable. Men.

She sighed.

“Second Madame – Second Madame – you don’t understand!” The disciple was all red-eyed and weepy, which was a look she liked, especially in big, stout men like this. The salt added a bit of spice to the whole thing. “You must flee at once! He was killed by Sect Leader Wen in an act of outright aggression – Sect Leader Wen has declared war – the Wen sect is invading!”

She nodded and picked up another lychee to start peeling it. She’d get around to fleeing in her own time. As long as this Wen sect or whatnot was being led by a man, she wasn’t terribly concerned.

“They intend to wipe out the inheritance of Qinghe Nie! They will rip out the child in your belly!”

She hummed noncommittally. Really, how attached was she to having a child of her own? Really?

“They will slaughter civilians – execute Nie-gongzi –”

Her hands stilled.

“What,” she said, and the disciple took a step back automatically, proving that he, at least, had something more of a survival instinct than her late husband did. “Hurt my little meat bun? My darling rice roll? My savory zongzi?”

She stood up, diminutive height and over-large belly and frilly clothing doing absolutely nothing to diminish the vaguely menacing aura that darkened the sky around her. She bared her teeth.

“Who does this upstart Wen dog think he is?!”

The disciple blinked owlishly, but nodded, seeming relieved that she’d finally accepted his concern, though she could see on his face that he was thinking that her reasoning was – characteristically – a little strange. But then again, and she could see this thought process on his far too honest face, it was well known that the second Madame Nie been quite strange ever since Sect Leader Nie had found her in some lonesome place with no family or background and brought her back to be his new wife nevertheless.

Such a charming man. Pity about his loss, really.

“You have to flee at once, we can’t possibly fight so many people,” the disciple said once more, and this time she nodded in agreement. “We can escort you to a hidden exit –”

“No!” a little voice called. “We can’t go.”

She turned to look, and there was the little pork-and-shrimp dumpling himself, chubby-cheeked and earnest-eyed, looking as delicious as always.

“What do you mean, fish cake?” she asked. “Of course we have to go. Didn’t you hear what this strapping young man said? This Wen person wants to kill you!”

“If Father is dead, then I’m the sect leader,” her stepson said. He was serious and solemn in a way that made her want to pinch his cheeks and bury her face into his belly to blow raspberries, and also possibly to eat him right up, flesh and marrow and gristle and all. “That means it’s my responsibility to preserve the Nie sect.”

“Nie-gongzi, no!” the disciple cried, throwing himself to his knees in a dramatic display of loyalty. “You would only die – far better for you to run, and live!”

“Then isn’t the same true for everyone else?” the tasty little dish asked, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. Possibly he was trying to put on a fierce expression, maybe, she couldn’t quite tell sometimes. He was so cute. “Why should I live, and them not? I refuse to buy my life with their deaths!”

“But – Nie-gongzi –”

Her charming little honey cake shook his head and held up a hand to stop the disciple, turning to look at her instead.

“Second Mother,” he said, and he had that wholesome trusting expression again that was such a perfect little one-shot-kill to the heart, ugh. “You always said you’re the best at hiding. The best in the world, no one better among all the gods or demons!”

She was, too. She couldn’t help but preen a little, proud.

“– can’t you do something?”

“Oh, darling cabbage bun,” she said, not without fondness. “I can hide myself from even the net of Heaven itself if I so choose, from gods and demons alike, and I can most certainly hide a small group from any mortal eyes that dare to look, if you don’t mind being a little tiny bit dishonorable about the business. But an entire sect? That’s a bit much, even for someone as talented and skilled as me.”

Her stepson looked up at her, all straight-steel sincerity and upright righteousness wrapped into a perfectly edible little snack-sized package. “If we split them up, the sect could be small groups,” he said eagerly. “Couldn’t you do something then?”

He was so cute, and he trusted her. He trusted her, believed in her, felt that she could perform miracles with a wave of her sleeve if only she so wished.

It was awful.

She couldn’t bear it.

“Oh all right, you nummy little slice of roast pork belly,” she said, yielding. “But I’m telling you now, it won’t be the least bit honorable! There’s only so many excuses you can come up with for having a lot of strong men with wide shoulders and women with thick thighs hanging around, and not a single one of them has the slightest bit to do with what you people consider to be appropriate.”

“That’s all right. Preserving human life comes first, always.”

The disciple looked between them, clearly completely confused. Clearly all his effort had been spent on developing the muscles in his arms (quite nice) rather than his brain (quite slow).

“What?” he said. “What’s happening?”

“We’re saving the sect,” Nie Mingjue announced happily, clapping his hands together. Too precious, too precious entirely; she’d have to make sure no one else even thought about going near her darling little snackling. “Tell everyone to prepare to evacuate.”

“That will take too long,” she said, and smiled, with teeth. “Let me call some friends to help.”

When the Wen sect arrived at the Unclean Realm, they found the gate open.

That was unexpected enough, but when they entered, they found that the entire place had emptied out – not just of people, but of everything else, too. There wasn’t a single intact chair or table in the entire place, not a scrap of cloth nor a bit of food, like it’d been swept clean by locusts or wild monkeys come to pilfer whatever they could.

Even the paving stones where arrays had been laid out by the Nie sect’s ancestors had been pried up and carted away.

Sect Leader Wen ordered a search, but there wasn’t any trace of it – of the people, of the stuff, anything.

No one ever found out what happened.

Jin Guangyao despised social events, he’d found.

It was one thing when it was something he’d planned himself, where the work was interesting enough to distract him, but when he was an honored guest for someone else…miserable. Utterly miserable.

The only thing more miserable was when the host was his erstwhile father, from whom he’d forcefully extracted recognition. With Wen Ruohan as his backer, indulging his favorite torturer as if a beloved pet, there wasn’t much Jin Guangshan could do to refuse, and neither could he force Jin Guangyao to do anything on his behalf, either. And so Jin Guangyao, sitting as always by Wen Ruohan’s side, right beneath his sons, was now an honored guest at his father’s house, getting offered his pick of prostitutes as if the man had no notion of the irony.

Maybe he didn’t. Jin Guangyao couldn’t quite tell if his father had just forgotten his origins, thinking his bastard son too unimportant to remember the details of, or whether it was meant as a deliberate insult – who could tell?

“Oh, right,” the simpering idiot in front of him, a nephew or cousin of some sort to the sect leader, said. “Our dear Jin Guangyao is known not to like the gentle flower queens, even when they come from the finest houses in Lanling. Isn’t that right, cousin?”

Jin Guangyao’s fists clenched. A deliberate insult, then.

Despite that, his face remained neutral. Instead, he chuckled and said, “The appeal is limited. After all, I have seen the best of them.”

Beside him, Wen Ruohan nodded and smirked. He appreciated Jin Guangyao’s devotion to his mother, though Jin Guangyao suspected it was because he thought it funny that Jin Guangyao would bother to honor such a lowly woman – but what he thought didn’t matter, not really. All that mattered was that he let Jin Guangyao pay his respects to her to his heart’s content.

“Well, you’re in luck!” the idiot Jin Zixun said, looking absurdly smug. “We have something of a different flavor than the usual tonight – we’ve invited entertainment from the local branch of Splendid Spring.”

Jin Guangyao barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes.

The Splendid Spring Palace was a series of brothels that had popped up fully formed just about everywhere some years back, with madams and girls and musicians and bodyguards of all sorts. It was so patently a political move that Jin Guangyao had barely bothered to pay attention to it once he’d become actually powerful, and Wen Ruohan hadn’t paid attention to it at all. After all, in the unlikely event that the business really was backed by a cultivation sect that didn’t care about its face any longer, anyone who needed to use such a façade to gather power was clearly beneath notice.

Jin Guangyao had paid only very little attention, but to different and unusual aspects of the place: by all accounts, they were surprisingly decent employers as far as places like that went. They didn’t steal girls or accept unwilling goods – they had some connection with the merchant caravans, or at least one of the companies that helped coordinate routes and provide protection to such things, and they were as meticulous about checking things over as they were about seeking refunds if they were dissatisfied – and they did accept married girls fleeing unhappy marriages, which not everyone did. They did buy up all the girls in the local markets wherever they were, but they swept them away and brought them back transformed, even the ones that wouldn’t sell because they were too ugly; Jin Guangyao assumed that meant they had people who were talented in make-up and clothing, since the usual rumors of the girls being blessed with a yao’s enchantment were obviously ridiculous and nothing more than the usual marketing gimmicks that brothels since time immemorial had tried.

Even once they had the girls in hand, the places were pretty decent: they had physicians on staff to help with the usual side effects of the business, made sure their girls were clean and healthy, and were said to even limit the number of customers a girl would be obliged to take on in a given evening…honestly, knowing as he did the brothel business, Jin Guangyao sometimes wondered how they’d managed to bespell enough people to even make money in the early days. At any rate, whatever they’d done, it’d worked, because by now they had a solid enough reputation to trade on.

In short: a decent enough place, far better than the usual run of the mill. Once he’d had the ability to do so, he’d even pulled a few strings and arranged for the better of his mother’s old compatriots to end up there, since he couldn’t convince them to leave their old professions behind entirely.

Anyway, if they also seemed to have a sideline in information brokering and assassinations, well, let them. In the cultivation world, where the only thing that mattered was strength, real strength.

A little thing like that wouldn’t make any real difference.

Or so Jin Guangyao had thought.

He found himself re-thinking that, though, when the entertainment in question came out. There were the usual set of attractive (albeit in a wider variety of shapes and sizes than usually seen) dancers, dressed up in silks that seemed actually high quality, and plenty of strapping young men carrying sabers – dancers as well, once assumed, to provide some spice to the entertainment, and implicitly on the offer for men who cut their sleeves or women with more flexibility, like widows or ones with especially permissive husbands. Wen Ruohan’s wives were in that latter category, and they were already whispering to each other excitedly, looking at them.

They’d even brought in the local madame, who was…

Well, she was actually breathtaking, even by Jin Guangyao’s extremely jaded standards. She had hair that fell almost all the way to her ankles, shimmering in the light, and dark eyes shining with liveliness, a smooth and ageless face that simultaneously suggested youth and health but also winked at knowable experience, the features characteristic of what his mother’s employers had called the ‘fox-face’. As if to emphasize that, the lady was wrapped in fox-fur and draped in embroidered brocade, with little stylized foxes running up and down the hems of her clothing and along the gazy silk draped on her shoulders.

It ought to have looked absurd, looked gaudy and overwrought and overdone, but it didn’t.

She was a thousand dreams of wealth and beauty and power and sex appeal all wrapped up in one, and even Jin Guangyao – who was in his personal preferences quite firmly a cutsleeve – couldn’t help but intrigued by her, wondering what it might be like to touch the hem of such a glorious creature.

And next to her…

The lady was accompanied by two men that seemed completely different from each other. One was a slender and winsome young man, fluttering his eyelashes from behind a fan with a charming smile, emanating the appeal of softness and weakness, ready to be indulged. While the other…

Jin Guangyao swallowed.

He was the exact opposite of the first man. Clearly strong, muscular and powerful, and tall to the point of towering, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist, a chest that you could lean your head against and an ass that begged to have someone’s hands on it – and there were his hands, big and broad, perfect for holding someone down or up if they so wished and of a size that was very promising as to what was only hinted at under his clothes. His face was hidden behind a veil as if he were a woman, marking him, like his comrade, as one of the available courtesans of the Splendid Spring, but his body was visible under clothing clearly cut to put it to the best advantage.

And oh, what advantages it had…!

“It seems we found something to the tastes of dear cousin Guangyao after all,” the idiot said mockingly, sniggering and snorting like the pig he was, and for once Jin Guangyao didn’t even care.

“Who’s the woman in front?” Wen Ruohan asked, ignoring their interplay. He seemed utterly fascinated, almost spellbound, and Jin Guangyao couldn’t blame him one bit. If this woman had been at the same brothel as his mother, there wouldn’t have even been room for jealousy or shame; his mother would have gone straight up to her to ask for some tips. “She seems…familiar, somehow.”

“That’s the madame of the Splendid Spring,” Jin Zixun said proudly, as if he’d done anything at all in relation to this – nonsense, of course. Everyone know which brothels were backed by the Jin sect, and Splendid Spring wasn’t one of them. He was acting as if he deserve a pat on the back just for the introduction! “That means she’s not for sale.”

His smile faded a little, twisting in a small bit of bitterness. “Or so she told my uncle, anyway…although I’m sure if it were Sect Leader Wen asking, the answer would undoubtedly be different.”

Probably because Jin Guangshan couldn’t slaughter prostitutes with impunity if they said no to him, whereas no one could stop Wen Ruohan from doing any damn thing he pleased.

Wen Ruohan grunted, pleased by the answer – he was a possessive man, in the rare events that he did exert himself in the realm of women, and there had been more than one instance where he’d stolen away some girl his sons had been eyeing first just for the joy of having had her first – and raised a hand, catching the lady’s eye and gesturing for her to come over, which she did.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She laughed. “You can call me Hu Jiuwei. With the ‘Hu’ being the character for fox.”

Jin Guangyao tried not to choke. There were false names and then there were false names – the lady’s theme was already clearly related to foxes, given her fox-face and fox-fur lining and the foxes embroidered onto her robes. Was the over-the-top name really necessary?

“It’s a fake name,” she added, unnecessarily.

“I see,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding a little choked himself. Possibly it was the woman calling herself ‘Foxy Ninetails’ and then kindly reassuring them all that the name was false as if she thought them too dumb to figure it out that was tripping him up a little. Jin Guangyao couldn’t tell if she was doing it deliberately in order to make her frankly inhuman beauty a little less frightening, or maybe she was blessed with so much beauty that she hadn’t bothered to cultivate her brain at all. “Are you our entertainment for the evening?”

She smiled, and any complaints Jin Guangyao (or indeed Wen Ruohan) might have had about her intelligence faded away at once.

It was that type of smile.

You could wreck nations with that type of smile. Jin Guangyao couldn’t help but wonder: how had a woman this extraordinary ended up in a brothel, of all places? How had no one snatched her up to keep her all for himself before now?

“My sons and I –” she gestured at the two behind her, “– would be more than happy to provide you with all the entertainment you could possibly want.”

Her smile widened.

“We’ve been hoping for an opportunity like this for a long time.”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #second madame nie #jin guangyao #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #what does the fox say

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scott-mccall-the-hot-girl · 3 years ago

Text

my ultimate guide to thiam fic !!

( as a new teen wolf stan )

the classic post war, long ass (multi chapter) fic !!with great development that genuinely made me laugh out loud, they have the best friendship in this & i love it very much. ( like theo teaches liam to drive and i just *happy sobs* ) a fundamental in thiam fanfiction !! all stans have probably already read it but if you haven’t this is in fact a threat ,, go show this vv iconic story some love !!

Airplanes - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: After the Anuk-ite and the hunters are dealt with Liam needs a break. Cue Theo and a road trip that Liam should know better than to think will be peaceful.

Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, 43/43 Chapters, Words: 236,875 (236k)

okay okay so this one is also post 6B !! but ,, now we introduce fighting monroe & the hunters again ,, so we get the boys & a new mission !! so if you like an intresting plot 11/10 would recommend !! just to be clear this ISN’T complete ,, if that turns you off i understand but definitely give this one a read !! it litterally have theo doing crossword puzzles & fighting zombies

Vacancy Signs - LovelyLittleGrim

Summary: Theo and Liam are in Manhattan negotiating a pack allyship when the zombie apocalypse breaks out. Now, the two of them have to find their way back to Beacon Hills without getting eaten by zombies or killing one another.

Rated: Explicit, Graphic Description of Violence, Not Completed, 15/17 Chapters, Words: 89,605 (89k)

Royalty AU !! I REPEAT ROYALTY AU !! a fantastic au where i stan their moms more than i stan them !! genuinely so good at the childhood rivals to lovers trope !! i’m genuinely obsessed with this one. has made me cry more than once ,, hurts in a good way <3 the ending is just *chefs kiss* also one of the tags is genuinely: # theo and liam make bad choices for over 130k straight !! if that doesn’t sound appealing i don’t know what does !!

Artificial Love - songbvrd

Summary: Prince Theo and Prince Liam are forced to spend every Summer together from age five onwards. They hate each other, and usually find ways to make each other miserable as much as possible in their six weeks together. But when they're reunited because of intended unions as adults, things change. They're both supposed to be married to noble women, but neither of them is as interested in anyone else as they are with their childhood rival.

Rated: Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, Chapters: 32/32, Words: 172,935 (172k)

so if you are in the mood for a crack fic that’s not explicitally a crack fic this is for you !! okay so i’m really hit or miss with AU’s ,, sometimes i feel like they don’t quite capture the characters right but this story have the BEST dramatic liam i have ever seen in my life !! basically they all live in the same apartment building & it’s fantastic !! i saw this one floating around a lot but the summary didn’t really unrest me until i have it a shot !! so go read it rn !! also nolan & brett are genuinely fantastic and make me wheeze ,, LIKE ACTUALLY VERBALLY LAUGHING !! all i’m gonna say is that my fav characters are scott & the beetles but that won’t make actual sense until you read it !!

The Neighbors Song - TheodoreR

Summary: “I always hear you singing on your balcony every morning, but suddenly you’ve stopped?”

Or the one where Theo annoys Liam every morning with his awful singing until he doesn’t anymore and Liam is even more annoyed. Liam hates every single thing about his mornings -the fact that they happen in the morning alone is enough. The thing Liam hates the most about his mornings though is the terrible voice of the guy who lives below him. He can’t sing for shit and Liam tried to politely let him understand that by throwing flour and water on his balcony, and also by shouting it to him, you can’t sing for shit!, and then by writing it into a note he proceeded to attach to his door, but this Raeken guy just keeps doing it, every single morning, like a fucking rooster. Liam did nothing to deserve this. He probably didn’t do anything to deserve better either to be fair, he doesn’t expect to open his window and be welcomed by some angelic voice singing him good morning, he’d just be happy with nothing. Silence. That’s something Liam can appreciate in mornings. Just some bark from his dog and the sound of his misery and that’s it. But no, god forbid the new guy lets him have that.

Rated: Explicit, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Wanrings, Completed, 8/8 Chapters, Words: 42,814 (42k)

me: i’m not a big fan of AU’s ,, proceeds to talk about ANOTHER au… OKAY BUT THIS ONE !! it’s not complete but the author has been updating regularly ,, vv slow burn !! but in a REALLY intresting way !! i lOVE LIAM IN THIS SO MUCH ,, he is such a diaster of a person and it’s wonderful !! they have a great dynamic & i’m sucker for general puppy pack content ( and erica reyes being a badass ) !! also theo plays lacrosse in this & i really like it ahhhhh ,, also liam is just being an artic monkeys stan the whole time & theo is like *que confused repressed gay noises*

Inglorious Roommates - honeyscape

Summary: A roommate is defined as “a person with whom one shares a room.”

Theo would say a roommate was more along the lines of, “The person who's the bane of his existence. The weirdo that sleeps for days. The spaz that exercises at 3am. The guy with a revolving door of annoying friends. An insufferable human being that Theo has no control over living in his room.”

Example: Theo hates his roommate Liam.

okay okay i hate myself but i have another WIP for y’all !! this one is jUST FANTASTIC. i’m genuinely so upset it’s most likely not going to updated again *incoherent screaming ensues*. for this story ,, it’s very theo-centric bUT thats bc it ends right before liam becomes a concrete member of the story !! ANYWAY: basic plot = theo & acquiring not one but two children ,, so #dad theo but he is still crusty & homeless and i love him very much. it’s just so GOOD !! just read if you want to experience my fav theo coming out story & him etching high school musical

Look who's talking - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: Theo had been labeled many things in his life. Evil, failure, monster. He'd never thought Father would be one of those things but as he looked across the table to a six year old with blue smears of bubble gum icecream across her face trying to coax the first words out of her sister. Finger jabbing towards Theo's face as she repeated 'Daddy' again and again he couldn't bring himself to dispute the label.

(Theo accidentally adopts two young werewolves)

Not Rated, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Not Completed, Chapters: 16/?, Words: 48740 ( 48k )

so here me out: post-canon ( poetry like angst ) summer get away !! just the boys doing cute little domestic things together whilst pining !! theo’s guilt in this is just so powerful & aGjffkgkkfkvkdlv !! i think it’s so interesting to see how they interact in this one, it’s just very heart warming !! and it features one of my favorite niche teen wolf tropes of theo being great with like seven year old girls- it’s just so good ,, very much a wonderful little one shot that just makes your heart happy.

(next time i see you you'll show me) a hundred different ways to say the same things - cherrysprite

Summary: “...You deserve good things,” Liam says eventually. He makes sure not to look at Theo even though he can feel his eyes turn on him. Somehow he can already tell that Theo doesn’t believe him.

Liam instantly makes that the goal of this summer - making Theo believe him.

Rating: Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 28875 ( 28k )

okay so this next section of fic recs is a bit different !!

two of my favorite authors !! and a compilation of fics i’ve read by them both !!

for context: these two have written some genuinely gorgeous fics, like pure poetry, they explore the real gritty & scary side of our boys relationship in such a wonderful way. they’ve both used some of my favorite tropes & i love them very much !!

whenever i need something soothing but so genuinely intresting & enticing these are my go to !! ( also they both write a lot of good nolan angst & some vv good fics with hayden )

go check out:

eneiryu

as well as fallingforboys

here are some of my favorite fics by them ~

darling i want you here in my arms (kiss the pain away, i know you can) - fallingforboys

even before you touched me, i belonged to you (all you had to do was look at me) - fallingforboys

memories linger like tattoo scars (but your touch on my skin is just as permanent) - fallingforboys

skin, bones, a stolen heart, and an ugly creature lurking underneath -fallingforboys

i don't know how to breathe in the place i called home - fallingforboys

whisper your gossamer truths into the shadow, maybe you'll find the answers you're searching for - fallingforboys

between the mountains and the valley we built a monument to our regret - eneiryu

cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you - eneiryu

okay and finally: since i am a self centered whore

my own fic: an rendition of the # elevator scene

it’s basically my version of post canon if we did get the kiss in the elevator. we got a classic liam pov in which he is has 12/10 for extreme bi diaster energy even whilst being shot at !! so go him ig…

Fuck Off, Fuck This & Fuck It! - nefelibata_peach

Summary: Liam thought to himself heart rate climbing, they were bound to be dead by morning. So he thought with everything but his brain and he kissed him.

Where Liam Dunbar is very confused, slightly traumatized, and just a bit scared but hey, aren't they all! Bad decisions ensue as two boys fight in a war they never did sign up for.

Rating: Teen and Up, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 3558 ( 3k )

#this took me so long #please go read these or i’ll cry #fan fiction #fan fic recs #teen wolf fic recs #thiam fanfiction #thiam fic recs #thiam #theo raeken #liam dunbar #theo x liam #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf gay #teen wolf #ao3 #fuck you fuck this & fuck it #thiam fanfic rec #thiam fanfic #thiam is endgame

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crushed-like-an-ant · 3 years ago

Text

how to calm down an angry billionaire

Step 1. Deflect.

Peter was good at deflection. Always had been. It was a skill he'd picked up after people constantly tried to ask him about his feelings after his parents died, then again when Ben died. Any questions he didn't want to answer quickly turned into an animated conversation about whatever his mind thought of first (there had been that awkward time he'd asked a fellow orphan how their parents were), an apology and fast excuse to get the hell out of there (mostly worked except when he was panicking and the best he could come up with was a cheese making competition, that had caused a lot of questions Peter would rather never deal with again), or just flat out running away (sometimes he ran into poles or walls which was always a bit embarrassing given he was literally Spider-man). Sometimes Peter had to use all three options. So Peter knew when Tony finally decided to have the dreaded conversation about the whole not-my-first-time-holding-up-a-building thing, he would be able to deflect it. Or so he thought. Turns out, Peter had drastically underestimated the sheer stubbornness of Tony Stark.

It was a lab day, around three weeks after the incident where Peter and Tony had been stuck under a building and Peter stupidly let slip that he’d held up a building before. Peter had thought Tony had forgotten about his words. He was comfortable, tentatively confident and optimistic that it wouldn't be brought up again. He had no idea how wrong he was.

"Hey kid?" Tony said, cutting the comfortable silence between them as they worked, tone slightly hesitant. Peter should've picked up on it. He should've realised. But he'd grown complacent. So Peter ignored the dread pooling in his stomach and lifted his head from the mess of wires in front of him to look at Tony.

"Mr Stark?" he replied with a smile that Tony didn't return. Nor did he try to tell Peter to call him Tony. And that was how Peter knew something was wrong. Nerves skittered down his spine, clod fingers of dread snaking around his neck as nervous energy filled him and he began to tap on the desk. Anything to distract himself from the sorrow and worry shining in his mentor's brown eyes.

"Look kid, uh, I," Tony fumbled for words. Shit. This was bad. If Tony Stark was struggling to say something, you knew it was serious. Peter just stared at him in silence,unsure of what to say, anxiety coursing through his veins at the grimace that clouded Tony's features. What could possibly have gotten him into this mood? Had Peter done something wrong? Was he gonna, oh god, was he gonna take the suit? "Pete, I need to know what you meant when we were under the building," Tony finally managed to say, Peter relaxing. Oh. That was all?

"I just meant that I'd lifted a lot of heavy things," Peter half-lied, looking Tony straight in the eyes and lying to his face, mindful to make sure his tells were carefully under control. Training with Daredevil - despite Tony's misgivings about Double D - had been one of the best decisions Peter had ever made. He felt a twinge of guilt as he lied to Tony but it's not like he could tell the truth. And he wasn't really lying. Just withholding the entire truth. He shrugged nonchalantly, "Anyways, you reckon you can help me with this? I'm stuck. My mind kinda decided to go and die on me." Peter chuckled quietly. Tony wasn't laughing.

"I want to believe you, kid," Tony told him, "I really do. But I can't. You had a panic attack under there. What aren't you telling me Peter? Whatever it is, I'm here for you. You can tell me anything. And I don't want to pressure you into telling me anything until you're ready but I-I just-I need to know what happened. I need to know what you meant." Peter's resolve almost broke as Tony's voice broke. No. He couldn't tell Tony. Not only would Tony think he was weak, but Peter knew that Mr Stark would blame himself because he took the suit. Peter couldn't let him do that. Option one had failed him, so it was onto option 2. Make a quick exit without raising any suspicions. Yeah, he didn't think that was gonna work. Worth a shot though.

"Hey, Mr Stark," Peter said after checking his watch and pretending to look shocked at the time, "I'm really sorry but I have to go. I promised Ned we'd work on our Bio project tonight and I'm already seven minutes late." Mr Stark raised an eyebrow and pulled up a picture of Ned on his holiday in California.

"Nice try kid," Tony replied drily. Peter sighed, shoulders slumping. Time for option three then.

"I-I don't really know how to tell you, uh," Peter deliberately stuttered, guilt eating him up inside as he put on an act for Tony. For option three to work, Peter had to catch Tony off guard otherwise he'd react too quickly and lock the tower down. His act work, Tony's features softening and body relaxing.

"It's okay, bambino, take your time." And if that didn't make him feel like a horrible person, nothing would. Peter stood and padded over to some machinery near the exit, pretending to be trying to busy himself as he worked himself up to answering Tony when he was actually getting closer to the door.

"I, uh," Peter stumbled. Tony was now far away enough that Peter could easily run without being grabbed and stopped. The door was right there. Peter took his opportunity. He ran. Out the door, down the hallway, flying to the elevator. Pressing the button frantically, Peter groaned when nothing happened. Great. Tony had stopped the elevators. Sighing, Peter pulled the mask from his pocket and pulled it over his head, sprinting at the window. Peter burst through the window in a shower of glass, activating his web shooters as he fell, quickly shooting a web and catching himself. And he was swinging, swinging, swinging. Allowing himself to smile at his escape, Peter was unprepared when he was grabbed from behind by two cold metal hands. Thanks for nothing spidey sense. Tony flew a sulking Peter back through the broken window and into one of the meeting rooms, setting him down firmly in a seat. Peter crossed his arms, pouting as he pulled off his mask, Tony's Iron Man suit unfolding around him and the man stepping out, an unimpressed look painted across his features.

"You done deflecting yet?" Tony asked, a single eyebrow raised. Damn. Peter wished he could do that. Alas, no amount of practising in front of a mirror had ever given him the talent to lift one eyebrow and not look like a demented monkey. Time for a different strategy. Deflection had failed him. But Peter would not go down easy.

~~~

Step 2. Deny.

The unfortunate thing about this step was that Peter would always over-deny. He would deny everything or nothing. There was no in between. For example, he was once denying eating the last bit of chocolate and ended up accidentally telling May his name wasn't Peter and that he was an alien from outer space with a severe lettuce allergy. Don't ask. Peter really didn't want to relive that trauma. So although Peter always tried his best with denial, it never really worked out in his favour. Honestly, it was through sheer dumb luck that he managed to keep Spider-Man a secret from his friends and family for so long. It was probably some good karma that had been waiting for the perfect moment to help him out. It was a little late but hey, better late than never right?

"No," Peter blurted in a panic. Shock splashed across Tony's face as he folded his arms.

"Kid, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Tony told him gently.

"No," Peter exclaimed again, hurt painting the billionaire's face. "I mean, yes." Shitshitshitshitshit. Peter was an idiot. He had to deny everything - but not everything, Peter, remember the lettuce incident - so Mr Stark wouldn't find out. But Peter had always been shit at denial.

"Look, I know this is probably hard for you to talk about," Tony continued on, oblivious to Peter's internal panic, "but I won't judge you. I love you, bambino. You know that right? And I'll support you no matter what but I can't help you if you don't let me."

"No," Peter said. It was the only word he knew. Any more and he would have another lettuce incident or he'd end up rambling the truth. He couldn't do that. So his current vocabulary was limited to 'no', 'no', 'no' with a side of 'no'. Which wasn't suspicious at all. Totally.

"What the hell, kid?" Tony asked, mostly confused, slight irritation colouring his tone. Peter was hyper-aware of the thundering beat his heart was drumming to, the way Tony's slightly picked up when he said 'no', the sweat covering his body like a second skin. Tony's sigh sounded like a bomb to his sensitive ears, the sharp intake of breath before he spoke like a blaring alarm. "What did you mean when you said it wasn't your first time?"

"I didn't," Peter responded, brain not quite computing, "nothing happened." Tony's gaze narrowed. Shit. Was Tony going to take the suit if he didn't tell him? But Peter just couldn't tell him. He couldn't.

"Fucking hell Peter, just tell me dammit!" Tony exclaimed, running a hand through his messy brown hair in frustration. Peter knew - with the certainty that he knew his own name or the colour of his eyes - that denial had failed him. Time for Peter's next strategy.

~~~

Step 3. Stretch the truth.

When Peter's other strategies failed him, he turned to stretching the truth. It was simple really, just take the truth and dial it down from boiling hot to freezing cold and give it to the person on a silver platter with a charmingly innocent - and only slightly nervous - smile. Half-truths were easy to fool people with. Someone had said that the best lies were the ones based on truth. Peter couldn't remember who exactly had said that. He had never been very good with that sort of stuff, unlike MJ. So although stretching the truth was Peter's third option, he'd always been surprisingly good at it. People seemed to believe he was too innocent to be able to lie. Which was absurd because he'd spent ten years living with his Aunt and her terrible cooking and she still didn't know he hated her walnut date loaf.

"Okay," Peter conceded quietly and the rage slowly left Tony as he deflated like a balloon, looking smaller without all the fury. Peter sat down in front of Tony. "It was back in the fight with The Vulture and he threw a wall at me. I caught it and threw it back at him but he dodged it with his super awesome flying skills." Tony looked him straight in the eyes for a few seconds, Peter holding his gaze before Tony leaned forward.

"Cut the bullshit," Tony whispered, dangerously quiet, tightly compressed anger stemming from worry swimming in his brown eyes. "A wall wouldn't stay together if it was thrown, caught and thrown back. Even then, you wouldn't say it wasn't your first time while holding a building up unless you'd held up a fucking building already. And you wouldn't have a panic attack from holding up a building about something thrown at you. So stop lying to me, Peter Benjamin Parker." Damn. The full name. Peter released a heavy exhale, knowing he was beaten. He had to tell Mr Stark the truth.

"It actually was in the fight with the Vulture," Peter began, "so I wasn't lying about that. And I did have to catch a few walls." Tony raised his eyebrows at Peter's weak attempts at defending himself. "I went to his warehouse and he sent his flying suit at me. It wasn't particularly good at attacking 'cause it hadn't even touched me. I said that and Toomes told me it wasn't trying to." Tony inhaled sharply, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, Peter trying not to listen to how Tony's hands still hit each other gently. Enhanced hearing sucked sometimes. "He had directed the suit to take out all the supports in the building." Tony gasped, expression contorted into one of such extreme guilt and sorrow that Peter wanted to shelter Tony from the world for the rest of his days because goddammit he's seen too much and been through enough and couldn't the world just give him a fucking break for once? No one deserved one more than Mr Stark did.

"I took the suit," Tony whispered, voice thick with emotion, "I took the suit. It was your only protection, damn it, and I took the fucking suit!" Tony was yelling now, self-hatred and rage dancing in his wild brown eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Mr Stark," Peter tried to tell him.

"How?" Tony scoffed, laughing bitterly, "How was this not my fault. I took the suit and you got hurt because of my mistake."

"It's okay, Mr Stark, you didn't know," Peter said.

"But I should've," Tony replied, "I should've known." Peter's features hardened, spine turning to steel. He wouldn't let Mr Stark blame himself for this. The blame was on Toomes and only on Toomes.

"Did you pilot the Vulture suit?" Peter asked firmly.

"What?"

"Did. You. Pilot. The. Vulture. Suit." Peter repeated, staring defiantly at Tony.

"No, of course not," Tony replied, slight confusion clinging to his features.

"And did you cause the building to fall?" he continued.

"No."

"Then it's not your fault," Peter told him simply.

"Kid, I shouldn't have taken the suit," Tony began, dropping his head into his hands. He opened his mouth to continue but Peter cut him off before he could say anything equally self-deprecating.

"Maybe," Peter allowed, "but then I wouldn't found out I was strong enough to get back up again. 'If you're nothing without the suit then you shouldn't have it'. You told me that. I thought the suit made Spider-man and I lost sight of what Spider-man really meant. God, I started out in a fricking onesie. That's what Spider-man represents. Not a hero with a multi-million dollar suit, but someone with nothing but their will to save others. Without you taking the suit, I never would've remembered everything Spider-man stood for.; With great power comes great responsibility. You gave me that tough love moment and I needed it. Now it's my turn to dish out some tough love for you." Peter took a deep breath. "You, Tony Stark, are being a fucking idiot. The blame of what happened in the past lies with Adrian Toomes, and Adrian Toomes alone. So stop this self-deprecating bullshit and use your fucking brain for once in your life. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault." Tony looked up at him, the self-hatred drained from his features, a slight smile adorning his lips which Peter returned.

"You're right, kid," Tony said, "when did you get this wise?"

"I've always been this wise, Mr Stark, I just wanted you to feel better about your lack of common sense," Peter joked, Tony chuckling.

"It wasn't my fault," Tony repeated. Peter tilted his head, confused at the strange undertone in Tony's voice only to see a fire lit in his caramel eyes. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."

And it was then that he knew he fucked up.

~~~

Step 4. Try some breathing exercises.

Peter had always been shit at breathing exercise. He just didn't have the patience for them. While he was breathing, someone could be getting raped in an alley, a shop could be getting robbed, or a kid could be getting beat up. So - despite the constant reminders to just try the damn breathing exercises for the love of god - Peter had never done anything of the sort. How could he? With his enhanced senses, it was impossible to relax. Would you be able to sit there and breathe while screams rang in your ears and sobbing pounded in your mind? Naturally, this meant that Peter wasn't the most experienced when it came to said breathing exercises. Maybe he should've practised. Life always had a funny way of throwing Peter in the deep end headfirst and tied to a ten ton weight and expecting him to swim. However, he had once read in a self-help book that breathing exercises were good for calming people down, so he decided to hit fuck it for the sixth time in the last 48 hours and try it out. I mean, it was that or release an angry billionaire in a metal suit decked out with the most advanced weapons in the world (except for maybe what HYDRA had because honestly Peter knew better than to underestimate them and he mildly respected their cockroach-like survival skills) who was hell-bent on revenge and gave zero fucks into the world. The second option was beginning to sound quite tempting, Peter would be honest.

"Mr Stark, you need to calm down," Peter told the man gently, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony tilted his head up to look at Peter - rage splashed across his face, tension lining his body - before he shrugged off Peter's hand and jerked into a standing position. And the room was suffocating, suffocating, suffocating, because damn had Tony always been that scary. A cloud of darkness surrounded Tony, filling the lab up and winding itself slowly around Peter's neck, stealing the breath from his lungs. Tony stormed through the lab, footsteps like thunder, anger crackling like lightning. Desperately, Peter followed the billionaire. "Mr Stark, Mr Stark, please calm down," Peter pleaded with him.

"No," Tony spoke, voice cold and flat, tone totally devoid of emotion, so totally opposite to the fury painting his entire body like a second skin. "No I will not calm down, Peter. He dropped a fucking building on you. He deserves to die."

"But you don't deserve to live with the guilt of killing him," Peter begged, tugging at Tony's sleeve in a desperate attempt to stop the man from his warpath. Peter knew he could easily overpower Tony. But he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. "Trust me, I know how it feels to want revenge, I really do, but you have to let it go. Please, Mr Stark."

"Dammit Peter, he hurt you!" Tony shouted, whirling around to face Peter, features twisted and manically furious. "He hurt you a-and I wasn't there and you had to deal with being crushed by a fucking building and then you got up and kept fighting because of that sick son of a bitch so I swear to fucking god I will murder him." Tony's eyes held a frenzied wildness in them, chest heaving up and down, Peter could hear his heart racing.

"Mr Stark, try some breathing," Peter said out of desperation, completely and utterly out of ideas. "Just breath. In and out, in and out." Tony's momentary surprise shocked him out of his anger, confusion flickering across his face momentarily before the anger was back, stronger than ever. Tony pivoted on his heel and walked away from Peter, heading towards where he kept his suits and leaving a heavy sense of dread pooling in Peter's stomach and twisting his insides in knots. So breathing hadn't worked. Thanks for nothing self-help books.

~~~

Step 5. Hack the most advanced AI in the world.

When in doubt, do something potentially illegal. A mugger had once told Peter that after Peter caught her trying to rob a young man. That lady had been fucking badass. It was honestly a shame she's gone to prison but a criminal is a criminal. Turns out the lady had been responsible for a string of high-end bank and jewellery robberies. Peter wondered how she was doing. Probably not well, considering how shit the American jail system is. Peter always tried to find alternative ways to stop criminals, only really sending in the pedophiles, rapists, murderers and the more professional robbers. Sometimes people had no choice in the shitty hand life had dealt them and goddamn if Peter didn't get that. People were just pushed and pushed until they were left with nothing but desperation. Maybe if the government or any of the fucking American systems were better or did their jobs properly then people wouldn't have to steal just to keep themselves and their families from starvation. Maybe Toomes wouldn't have started his alien tech business and then none of this would have even happened. Peter wouldn't be in this situation right now. And Peter was now out of options. He had an angry billionaire on his hands and absolutely no idea what to do. So, he took the lady's advice and decided to do something potentially illegal. He hacked the most advance AI in the world. (What, like it's hard?)

"Hey FRI?" Peter called with a wince.

"Yes, Peter," the AI replied.

"I'm really sorry," Peter told her before bringing up FRIDAY's code. (A/N - I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT COMPUTERS SO THIS IS GONNA BE SOME VAGUE, QUESTIONABLE AF HACKING) Fingers flying across the keys of the laptop, Peter bit his lip in concentration, brows furrowed. He had to hurry and shut down Mr Stark's suits before he reached them and left to murder Toomes. Adrenaline coursed through his body, brain whirring to life like the computer before him as he deleted lines of code, rewriting and altering the code that created FRIDAY as he tore down the firewalls Mr Stark had built. Peter vaguely registered that this was probably illegal and that Mr Stark would most definitely be mad about this later but he quickly waved the thoughts away. He didn't have time for them, he didn't have time, he didn't have time. Barely registering what he was doing, Peter submerged himself into the world of numbers, immersing himself completely in the ocean of lines of code, fingers instinctively knowing what t do as though he'd been born to hack. Again, probably not a great thing that this was so easy. But computers had always made sense to Peter. After what felt like hours but was really only a few minutes, Peter was into FRIDAY's system. And with a few taps, Peter shut down the suits. Quickly exiting the browser, Peter dropped his head into his hands. He'd done it. With a long exhale, Peter relaxed, leaning back into his chair and running his shaking hands through his hair. An enraged roar broke the peaceful quiet surrounding Peter and he squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he ignored it, Mr Stark's anger would go away. He couldn't deal with this shit. Peter was too young to die.

"Peter Benjamin Parker I swear to fucking god-"

"You probably shouldn't fuck god, Mr Stark," Peter couldn't resist remarking with a shit-eating grin. "People might get a bit mad. And who knows, you may even end up pregnant which I can't imagine will be very fun."

"What the fuck?" Tony whispered into the silence that followed Peter's statement. "I don't even want to know what goes on in your brain." Peter hummed in agreement. To be honest, he had no idea what was going on up there half the time. He was just along for the ride. And hey, if it distracted Mr Stark from his anger then it was a win win situation right? (How Peter won in this scenario he didn't know but he didn't question it).

"It's the trauma," Peter replied flippantly, as casual as one would be if they were discussing the weather.

"The-" Tony broke off into angry, confused gibberish that Peter didn't even try to decipher. Crisis averted. Now to deal with the aftermath.

~~~

Step 6. Watch a movie.

Peter Parker wasn't good with emotions. Being a socially awkward sixteen-year-old genius had that effect on a person. Not to mention the fact that he had a crime-fighting, sarcastic alter ego. Yeah, he wasn't great with feelings. Especially not his own. And now he was attempting to help Mr Stark clam down after the whole Toomes-dropping-a-building-on-him-reveal thing. And the only way an emotionally stunted teenage genius superhero knew how to help an emotionally stunted adult genius superhero was something most people would not class as a healthy coping mechanism. Distraction. Preferably with a movie.

"Hey Mr Stark, wanna watch Empire Strikes Back?" Peter asked. Tony fell into a confused silence which Peter took as an agreement. "Yes? Perfect, let's go." Grabbing Tony's arm, Peter tugged him out of the lab and into the elevator, confusion splashed across Tony's features as they entered the movie room. Peter dropped onto the expensive yet incredibly comfortable couch in the centre of the room, pulling Tony down beside him. "Hey FRI? Can you please play The Empire Strikes Back."

"Certainly, Peter," FRIDAY replied, a hint of warmth in her robotic voice. The Star Wars theme filled the room, Peter lips kicking up into a smile at the familiar sound. And as the movie played, Peter reciting every single line with the characters, he felt the rage and tension slowly drain out of his mentor as he relaxed.

"Hey, kid," Tony whispered, interrupting Luke and Darth Vader's showdown. "I sorry for getting angry. I just... I just didn't know what to do. Instead of asking if you were okay I blamed myself and wanted to frigging murder a guy who's already suffering in prison."

"It's okay, Mr Stark," Peter responded with a smile, sincerity gracing his tone. "I get it. After Ben died, I found his murderer. I almost killed the guy," Peter chuckled without humour, Tony watching him with sad eyes, the movie forgotten. "Point is, I know how it feels to want revenge. Don't apologise for being human."

"You really are the best of us all, kid," Tony remarked, a smile adoring his face, features relaxed as he looked at Peter.

"I learned from the best," Peter replied with a shrug.

"Thanks, kid," Tony said, throat tight with emotion.

"I meant May," Peter joked lightly, the heavy emotion clouding the room vanishing as Tony laughed.

"Are you okay, kid?" Tony asked, seriousness settling over them again.

"Honestly?" Peter responded, "no. But that's alright. Because I will be." Peter held Tony's gaze, warmth blossoming in his chest at his mentor's caring eyes, as Darth Vader's voice filled the room.

"No, I am your father," Darth Vader spoke. Peter turned back to the movie, watching as Luke jumped and fell.

"You're gonna be okay, kid," Tony whispered, "we're both gonna be okay."

Because Peter would be okay. So Tony was okay too.

And if Pepper walked in three hours later to find them curled up against each other, fast asleep she never said anything. (She got FRIDAY to take a photo and saved it to Irondad and Spiderson - an unsurprisingly large file. She should probably get Peter to do a DNA test. They did look rather similar)

#fanfic #peter parker #spider-man #iron man #irondad #father-son #pepper potts #unhealed trauma #marvel #the avengers #spider son #bamf peter parker #tired dad Tony #tony stark #aunt may

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adcfan · 3 years ago

Text

WARNED

He could clearly tell from the slightest wrinkle of irritation adoring the top left of her pale forehead that she is beyond annoyed. How could he blame her? After all it was him who lured the bird out of its comfortable nest in the middle of a tough night. From the height he could perceive the darker shades of her shadows dancing along the way she traced making him more curious to explore the limit of the demon’s braveness.

The edges of his lips pulled up to carve an honest smile as his eyes momentarily rested on the dagger resting against her waist that he once offered her in the middle of a battle, a year ago.

With a loud thud he made his presence noticeable startling her to the core in the process. His armor blazed a bright shade of jade green, bathed in the late moonlight that managed to get the taste of his attire. His eyes searched hers involuntarily, seeking to find any glimpse of game she or the titans might have planned to play on him. But all he could find was curiosity.

Curious? Is she really curious?

“So, you decided to show up in the middle of a young, wanting night, far from your protective shell behalf of a demons’ call”. If it wasn’t for the mask he is wearing, she could see the imperceptible grim plastered over his face with ease. “And here I thought ravens aren’t creatures of the night”, his brows made a childish hunch testing her temper further more than she could actually take.

“What do you want?”, her voice remained cold as she tried her best to control all the urge to take him down on the very spot. His cape danced in unity with her robe as he approached her a little more without her noticing for a very long second. “Aren’t you forgetting a very special day, beloved?”. And that was definitely a hint of sadness that was sprinkled all over the Al Ghul’s tone.

Right, as if he could actually feel sad over anything with all the blood in his hands.

“I am not in for a game, Al Ghul. I have got a whole city to save and a good night’s sleep to resume, but here I am, in the middle of an abandoned area with a ruthless assassin who threatened to explode the best half of the city and what’s next? Seizure?”. Almost a devilish chuckle escaped his lips as if he had conquered the entire world.

“Oh for gods shake, little bird. Do you really think I will abandon the best of all nights in Nanda Parbat to blast a worthless city like Kansas?”, now he is definitely getting on her nerves. “But I must say, I had half a mind to blow the Titans bridge five minutes ago”, his all time devilish smile still painted his arrogant look. Raven barely recognized how Damian managed to corner her against the cold wall whose uneven surface pressed itself against her flawless skin dripping it with the night’s best dew.

“I am not asking you again, Ra’s. Tell me what you want with me before I banish you into a dimension of never return”.

“You hurt me, beloved. Don’t you remember the anniversary of our marriage?”

Married? With him? A year ago?

“If this is some sort of silly joke, you better stop it right now, Ra’s. It’s definitely not funny.”, her voice trembled with doubts by each passing second. She lingered over her left ring finger as if she has seen her own hands for the first time in all her life. No ring? Well that’s a relief.

He is just kidding or may be…

Or may be not

“Do I look like one who makes senseless jokes like the green monkey your tower owns”.

Thanks to Gar, at least his pride is hurt a little.

“I didn’t say that, but if you insist on it… I may”, and she sure as hell liked hurting his weak point - his pride.

“Then how about I insisting on maintaining a decent distance between Conner and you, beloved”, for the first time in almost half an hour his words had the true taste of jealous.

“You are my wife and it is my business to keep flirty hybrids like him away from you. Well, if you don’t have to do it the easy way then I will have the pleasure of teaching him decency in my own way, beloved”. Is the night getting unnaturally warmer or…

Oh no! When did he get this closer to her.

And how the hell she didn’t notice it for this long.

If not for the pitch dark night sky, she could actually feel herself blacking out.

“If it is Conner the one you have your problems with then why the hell did you make me come here?” To reveal that she may be married to the Ra’s of League of Assassin’s a year ago? Probably, yes.

“I thought you would never ask. Let’s say I am here to get a gift”

Right, she barely knew that she got married and now he wants a gift in the middle of a night?

“I don’t have a ring”, the words spilled out even before she could realize it.

May be she lost her brain just like Beast Boy.

“I don’t think it is mandatory for a married couple have to propose during anniversaries, beloved”, his breath flowed through her entire being warming up all her dark desires that might love to make him hers and only hers even if…

Stop. Stop right there Raven.

“I mean, I don’t even have a ring and how could I be your wife when I don’t even have a ring”

Way to go Raven, what’s next a Priest?

“The dagger, Raven. It means a sealed bond in my heritage. A bond made between a husband and a wife, which you willing took to save the pathetic Titans a year ago in the League of Shadows base.” His voice grew more husky and his breathe drove her senses away as he nibbled at her ear lobe. She was supposed to be mad, she was supposed to blast him to pieces and scatter every inch of his being at different dimensions for revealing something as important as being married, but his tone - well, that’s definitely not helping.

“What now? You want me to quit being a Titan, take sides with you and go against them?”

“Baby steps, beloved. Baby steps”. His left hand toyed with the hem of her dress, further breaking the already half broken control towards her urging needs that pooled in very being.

“Just a kiss and a promise to keep that coward Conner away from you will do”. She could feel the cold air of the young night kissing her wide spread pale skin that already missed the warmth touch of the assassin.

“And if I resist?”

“You really think you could resist me, beloved? Since it is our anniversary I will be generous enough to make another request”. His eyes grew darker with every words as his katana slightly battered against the cold wall.

“How about blasting the Titans tower to the ground while that stupid Gar and Jaime are trying with their half-celled brains to defuse the bomb or how about giving black fire all the 18 ways to kill Kori like a true assassin in the middle of their fight right now in Kansas or how about giving Slade Wilson the true identity of Dick Grayson and his fellow bat clan or how about letting Conner suffer in the hands of Bizarre Superman, left alone to die by a Kryptonite stabbing.” He hummed the last few parts as he withdraw from the spot he previously stood.

“On second thought how about all of the above?”

“You are kidding. I would have received an alert signal at least if one of these is happening right now”.

“You mean this?” Damian raised a small communicator from his pocket still humming like an undisturbed teenager enjoying his long drive to no destiny at all.

“Give it back”. She raised her hand trying to snatch the communicator but in vain.

“Did I forget to mention that you have to be a grown woman to snatch a stuff, beloved”. His eye brow arched itself up.

That’s it. She could bear all of his sarcasms, all of his threats and even all of his flirts but not even for the shake of Azar would she let this damn Demon Spawn comment on her height and hurt her pride in nothing more than mere seconds. That’s not going to happen. Not today.

Raven rose to her tip-toes grabbing Damian’s collar to support her in the process but accidentally twirled their legs and slipped right on top of him. Their lips were locked like the mere existence of one depends on the other, when Raven realized the state she has put herself into.

Yeah, that’s how you snatch a communicator from a tall guy, who threatens to blast your whole family.

She would be cheating herself the entire time if she hesitated to accept that she did like the Demon’s head for a reasonably long time now. But she is definitely not going to let her pride get hurt.

“So, you got your gift. Now defuse the bomb and un-mess every mess you made”

“And all it took was calling you - short”. Damian let an almost an inaudible chuckle escape his throat.

He pulled out the dagger from Raven’s waist band and seethed it properly. “Don’t hurt yourself playing with this doll, beloved”.

“My team…”, Raven question was cut short by Damian as he spoke.

“They are safe. For now”

BOOM…

From the frequency of the sound wave she could say that it was near the Titans Tower.

“Well, except for one I guess”

With one last peck on her lips he disappeared into the shadows as if he never existed a few minutes ago.

Thank Azar!

There was not a single scratch on the tower. Not even one. At least he kept few of his words.

But the real horror stroke her when she felt no living presence inside the tower.

“Umm.. Rae what are you doing up late in the night?”, Dick asked as he and the other Titans entered the tower with handful of shopping bags. “You are all fine?”. She will never spell it out loud but deep down she knew that she couldn’t stand their loss. She blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“Yeah, we are fine. It’s a little cold out there. But don’t worry we won’t catch a cold, Rae. If that’s what you are worried about”, Gar uttered with no care in the world as he glanced through the contents of the fridge.

“Where have you been?” was all she managed to ask when she realized that she wasn’t dreaming.

“We were out…”, Kori barely had a chance to finish when Raven added “Crime fighting?”

“Ah… shopping, Raven. I don’t think it is a custom on Earth to crime fight every time you step out into the public, is it Dick?”.

“Unless or otherwise you are in Gotham, no”, Dick replied as he loaded the fridge with the contents of the grocery bags.

“So, where is Conner?”, inquired Jaime as he entered the main hall. “Isn’t he in the tower?”, Kori added.

“There wasn’t anyone in the tower when I arrived”, Raven replied as a loud thud followed their conversation.

“Conner!”, Gar yelled as he reached him. The rest of the Titans followed by.

“What the hell happened dude?”, asked Gar as he tried to touch the bruise near his right eye.

“OUCH!”

“That’s just a small bruise, Conner. I have seen worse”, Dick replied while analyzing his wounds.

“And a broken wrist”, Conner added trying to rise his wounded hand but in vain.

“It’s just a minor injury, amigo. You will be alright as soon as the Sun’s back”, Jaime reassured him while attending to his wounds.

“Here, let me heal you”, Raven offered taking a step towards but the wound deepened as if it was being cut from inside out. Conner could barely resist the urge to break the table he sat on.

“Raven, is that a Kryptonite you are wearing?”, Dick pointed at the green stone that somehow perfectly settled around her neck.

“If that’s causing our flirty Superboy to yell like a mad man then it is definitely a Kent-repellent”, Jaime added.

“A kryptonite? Not again”, Conner banged his head against the wall as if that would make his day any better.

If you don’t have to do it the easy way then I will have the pleasure of teaching him decency in my own way.

“Raven, I know you mean no harm but I don’t think Conner could take any more kryptonite today. So, would you mind…”, Gar tried to get rid of the kryptonite that adorned her neck.

“Here let me try”, Kori flared a small star bolt which seemed to have no effect on it either.

“It seems you have to stay away from Conner for a few days until we find a way to remove that thing off your neck. By the way, it seems to have no effect on you Raven. You may leave, we will take care of Conner”

Seems like he played a particular demon played his part well at keeping Raven away from Conner.

Raven made a short nod and walked towards her room. In the background, she could clearly hear the boys filling Conner with questions about the attack.

“So, was it Bizarre the reason behind this?”, Dick asked as he finished cleaning the wounds.

“No, it was a masked man with a Katana”, Conner replied.

“And you - a bullet proof being got this from a Katana?”, Gar’s curiosity reached its peak when Conner made Kryptonian curses under his breathe.

“Stop touching my wound, Gar”

“You call yourself a super but you can’t stand a broken wrist” Gar arched both of his eye brows wanting for a genuine explanation.

“I have not even once been injected, Pea-brain” was all Raven could hear, when she disappeared into her own shadows.

- Samuel Damian Fernandez

Hi, everyone! This is just a one shot, not a great one but worth giving a try. Like I have mentioned before English is my 8th priority language. So, if you find faults in my work just let me know. Also, share your thoughts on this one shot, so I may get an idea for future modifications.

Punardarśaāya 😉 👋

#damirae #demon birds #rachel roth #raven #damian wayne #damian x raven #teen titans #damian al ghul #dc #bat family #demon of azarath #raven roth #damian #damian al ghul wayne #evil au

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strange-lace · 4 years ago

Text

Macaque

I was in the mood to make more content for Inverted AU, so here’s a short-ish fic of how episode 9 would go in this AU with Macaque, Wukong, and MK! Enjoy the shadowpeach!

Another demon defeated but still no sign of Sun Wukong. Macaque let out a sigh before rolling his shoulders to bring relief to tense muscles. Oh well, he'll just have to keep looking, not like he hasn't been at it for years now. At least this city he wandered to was quite nice with pleasant people, nothing too out there aside from demon attacks.

"Hey! Hey you! Shadow monkey man!" Macaque wouldn't deny that the sudden voice made him jump, considering he was on top of a pretty tall building. Apparently not tall enough to stop the young man from climbing up the side, somewhat out of breath yet that didn't deter from the determined look on his face. He simply brushed his messy hair out of his eyes and adjusted his teal backpack, which looked surprisingly heavy. Macaque couldn’t help but be somewhat curious as to what was in that thing.

Wait was that the Monkey King's staff in his hands?

Indeed it was, he'd recognize that weapon anywhere.

“Ah, you must be the Monkie Kid I’ve been hearing so much about, am I right?” That got him a look of suspicion before the young man also seemed to remember the staff in his hands, causing him to let out an amused huff at his own paranoia.

“Yeah, the staff kind of gives it away, don’t it? Name’s MK though. Now whomst is you? Most of the time, demons who ask me who I am are five seconds away from trying to kill me.” Macaque couldn’t help but chuckle at that, already finding that he was starting to like this little guy and his attitude. Perhaps if a person like MK was chosen to wield Wukong’s staff, then perhaps that meant his love had finally started turning things around for the better. Maybe it meant he finally stopped being someone he wasn’t all for the sake of keeping a memory alive.

“The name’s Macaque, though, the Six-Eared Macaque is actually my full name. But what brings you up here exactly bud? I doubt you’d climb up this high just for anybody.” MK’s face showed that he wanted to argue that point out of principle before remembering his purpose for coming up here.

“Simple, teach me.”

Wait what?

“What what?” MK scoffed at the question.

“I want you to teach me to fight, like how you fought that demon back there. I don’t intend on leaving you alone until you do and that is a threat!” Macaque didn’t doubt that he meant it that way and could very easily follow through on that. Sensing he wasn’t going to get out of this, he let out a sigh before giving MK a smile.

“You sure your mentor won’t have a problem with me teaching you?”

“Bold of you to assume Wukong’s disapproval will stop me.”

“Well alright then, I think we’re gonna get along just fine, bud.”

---

“I see what you’re trying to do, you’re afraid of holding back and giving your enemy the opportunity to win. But the first strike isn’t the most important one. Every strike counts. Other people may tell you that patience and focus don’t matter but a fool allows himself to rush without restraint. While you have power inside you, you have to use it carefully. Take the power to defend others, not just destroy those who stand in your way. You’re not a weapon kid, you wield the weapon above all else.”

---

It started with a fairly innocent question from MK after one of their training sessions, him slowly going through a water bottle given to him by Macaque while the monkey made them something to eat. He needed a distraction to stop himself from taking over the cooking, years of feeding others making him feel guilt the moment someone else took over.

“So Mac, how exactly do you know the Monkey King?” To his credit, Macaque only fumbled the slightest bit at that sudden question and was able to save the plate before it crashed to the floor.

“Oh um well… funny thing about that is, well… we used to be together actually. Like y’know… together-together,” he explained while he plated their food, wincing internally at how awkward he sounded. With his back towards MK, Macaque didn’t notice him go tense and grip the couch arm so tightly that the wood underneath cracked at the pressure.

“Used to be together, huh? What happened?” Macaque couldn’t help but shiver at the chill which traveled down his spine. MK’s voice was perfectly even and calm yet he was filled with an overwhelming fear that warned him to not turn around and remain perfectly still until the danger passed.

His ears twitched at the sound of sparks behind him, magic power permeating through the air.

“I… I messed up honestly. We had an argument about something, I don’t even remember what it was so long ago. But I had to leave to just get some space and air before I said something I’d regret, something I couldn’t take back. It was only meant to be a couple hours but some stuff out of my control happened and by the time I got back… Wukong was gone. I had been looking for him for centuries after that and then… well then you found me.”

“What, you hoped getting on my good side would mean that you’d win the Monkey King back?” His tone promised nothing good if Macaque kept digging himself a deeper hole.

“No! No, nothing like that at all. I don’t expect Pe-...Wukong to take me back or anything like that. I just… wanted the chance to apologize to him is all. If he wants anything to do with me afterwards, then I want that to be his choice. Nothing more, I swear.”

MK remained silent behind him before the sudden tension in the air dissipated as quickly as it appeared. Macaque let out a sigh of relief, slowly turning around to see MK still sitting on his couch, placing the staff back in his ear nonchalantly.

“Fair enough, sounds like you both were just idiots who don’t know how to communicate. If you actually intended on using me to get to the Monkey King, you’d have actually mentioned him during our training and yet you haven’t. And you can’t lie to save your life anyway. Just don’t be an idiot again alright? Monkey King… Wukong, he’s a mess and I don’t think he could handle thinking he’s been abandoned again.”

Macaque could feel his heart break at the idea that his Peaches, his love, thought that he had left permanently. He wanted nothing more than to run to him now and make things right. But that was Wukong’s decision to make, nobody else’s.

The two ate their food in silence after that.

---

Sun Wukong may have supposedly “lost his edge” but he was by no means dense or oblivious.

And while he was certainly happy about his successor’s vast improvement over the past couple weeks, a part of him sensed something was off. Like his successor was hiding something from him. And those moves he watched MK use to absolutely demolish the old mural, the Monkey King swore he had seen them before.

But it couldn’t possibly be. He hadn’t seen him in centuries. Not since he… left, like everyone else.

“I’m impressed, my boy! Tell me, how did you do that? Have you been seeing another mentor perhaps?” Wukong asked, his typically serene smile straining the slightest bit at the idea of his son student learning from someone who wasn’t him. The sensible part of his brain was gently poking at him, reminding him that it seemed silly to get upset about such a thing as, if anything, MK had appeared significantly calmer during their training compared to when they started. This could be a good thing, it told him.

Yet it was silenced by the majority of his brain which ran on fatherly protectiveness and had immediately been plagued by images of the worst case scenario. A demon had approached MK, promising him to make him stronger while also poisoning his student as a bid to turn him against the Monkey King before stealing his powers or, Heavens forbid, harming him.

No, Wukong refused to even allow a chance of that happening, logic and reasoning be damned.

“Hey, you’re the one always going on about ‘patience and focus’, I’m just finally putting what you said into practice,” MK answered, the picture of being casual which only set off further alarm bells within Wukong’s head. But before he could question him further, MK’s phone dinged to tell him of a new text message which he quickly read over, his eyes widening slightly at the message.

“Welp, looks like I gotta cut things short for now Wukong, something came up and I gotta head out. See ya later! Don’t forget to eat something tonight and sleep, I will know if you don’t.” And with that, MK was off through the hole he had created in the wall where the mural was before the Monkey King could get a word in edgewise.

Wukong waited long enough to allow MK to get a reasonable distance away before transforming into a bird, flying after his successor.

Something fishy was going on and the Monkey King was determined to find out what it was.

---

“Why exactly are we climbing up to this giant mountain again Mac?” MK wheezed, hating to admit it but this hike had genuinely winded him despite all his training. He had immediately gone to Macaque’s place the moment he got his text only to be told to follow the six-eared demon, leading them to where they were now.

“Well, consider this your ‘final exam’ bud! I want you to use everything I’ve taught you to fight against me, no holding back. Think you can do that?” MK couldn’t help the twitch at the corners of his mouth at the sight of Macaque’s genuine excitement as he explained, all six ears twitching while his tail was wagging like a dog. A demon who was centuries old and had fought countless powerful demons had no right looking that endearing, but here MK was looking with his own two eyes.

MK gave a chuckle before straightening himself out, wordlessly pulling the staff out his ear.

“You sure you’re comfortable getting your ass kicked by me, Mac?” With a smirk, Macaque summoned his own weapon in a flash of purple with the beginning of two shadow clones pooling at his feet. They shyly peeked from the ground from behind their master.

“Oho, a couple training sessions with me for a month and you think you have what it takes to defeat me, bud? Well then, bring it Monkie Kid!” MK didn’t hesitate to charge forward with Macaque mirroring him, weapons at the ready and adrenaline already running through their veins.

“Enough!”

A sudden force landed in between them with enough force to send them both flying backwards.

MK and Macaque recovered in time to see who decided to interrupt their duel.

Both of their hearts nearly stopped at the sight of the enraged Monkey King but for vastly different reasons.

“You have 5 seconds to explain yourself for trying to harm my-” Wukong’s rage quickly deflated as the dust cleared enough for him to truly see who it was he had thought was attacking MK. “Mango Flower?”

“Um… hello again, Peach Blossom. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Macaque joked, voice weak as he restrained himself from acting out of bounds even if he wanted nothing more than to gather the other into his arms. It had been so long, far too long.

He nearly broke at the sight of tears beginning to form in Wukong’s eyes.

His resolve finally shattered as the Monkey King ran towards him, arms outstretched, and before Macaque knew it his legs were moving on their own. The wind was knocked out of him at how tight Wukong squeezed him yet he returned the embrace back with gusto, ignoring the groaning of his ribs. He simply buried his face into the other’s fur, the smell of peaches still there even after all these years. Faintly, Macaque realized he was also crying once he felt a wetness on his cheeks.

Macaque let out a squeak in surprise as Wukong picked him up in the hug and spun him around, the sound of his laughter echoing throughout the mountain. The sight of such unabashed joy on his face was enough to make the six-eared demon to start laughing too, joy contagious in the best of ways.

MK would deny it unless under the threat of death but he couldn’t help but smile as he watched the two monkeys get lost in their own little world. It made the guilt which nagged at his chest at having to manipulate the two to make this meeting happen ease up, seeing how happy the two were.

“It’s been so long…” Wukong whispered as he placed Macaque back on his feet, gently cradling his face as if afraid that if he stopped touching the other, that he’d disappear again. “But, why are you here? I had thought that you hated me, isn’t that why you…” Macaque went stiff in shock before taking the Monkey King’s hands into his own.

“What? No! If anything, I thought you hated me for leaving instead of talking things out and that’s why you were gone when I came back. I always intended on coming back to you Peaches, I swear on it.” Wukong’s eyes went wide at that, extremely close to crying again a second time that day. “I had been looking for you for centuries now to apologize.”

And now the warm feeling was gone, leaving MK to bite down on his staff to stop himself from screaming at how much those two had failed at the simple of communication.

“We’ve both been absolutely foolish, haven’t we?” Wukong couldn’t help but laugh at it all, which only worsened as he noticed all six of Macaque’s ears turn red in embarrassment.

“Yeah, I guess we have been-” His words were cut off as the Monkey King grabbed his scarf, pulling him into a sudden kiss that made Macaque jolt in surprise before he practically melted into the other’s arms. A purr rumbled in his chest and neither noticed their tails wind around each other.

The sound of MK clearing his throat, loudly, was enough to get them to break apart in embarrassment.

“If you two are done being romantic idiots, I have to beat the shit out of Macaque to prove that I’m better than him. I mean ace my ‘final exam’.” The grin on his face showed that he was lying through his teeth.

“Don’t think I forgot about all your trash talking, young man. How about it Peach Blossom? You willing to go all out with me and the kid?”

Wukong’s face was the epitome of ‘Every part of my body wants to say yes but I shouldn’t.’ He was already terrible at saying no to MK and now with Macaque’s endearingly earnest face, he knew he was done for, at least with these two working together now.

“...Oh alright.”

The two mutual cheers at his agreement made Wukong feel slightly less guilty in letting his lessons go for a brief moment. But not completely.

But that was okay, Wukong was used to living with constant guilt.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #inverted au #shadowpeach #mk #macaque #sun wukong #my writing #fanfiction

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