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persage · 2 years ago

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Can't Say It Back-S. HARRINGTON

Summary: At eighteen, Steve Harrington has learned how to really love someone. That someone it's not you. At nineteen, Steve Harrington breaks your heart and this time you hope it will be the last (six moments that led to this)

Words Count: 4k

Tags: Mentions of dyslexic!Steve - Set before Season 4 (currently thinking about doing a part 2)

Seven years old Steve Harrington has big brown eyes, a beautiful backpack and finally his first friend: Y/n Cunnigham. Tommy doesn't count, he is more like family and neither does his babysitter Becca, even if he really really loves her. He has discovered his mum pays her to be with him and that doesn't sound like something a friend should do. But Y/n, she's brand new. You sit next to him at school and compliment him when he does every stupid little thing. You help him when he can't write something correctly cause you are clever and play with him even if you don't like basketball. That makes him happier than ever. He shares his box of crayons with you 'cause he likes the way you draw and sometimes he steals jewels from his mom and gives them to you. Steve doesn't read well, sometimes words and letters just don't make sense him, they all mix with each other and it's a mess. When he has to read in class, you hold his hand so he doesn't give up.

Nine years old Steve Harrington sits next to someone else even if you keep waiting for him. "You're finally with the cool ones Harrington." Tommy says. Steve looks you in the eye intensely before laughing. You get mad and you hate him, 'cause you know him well enough to recognize that he is just pretending to be someone else and you are clever enough to understand that he grew up before you, even if it's not fair, even if it's too early. In class now he doesn't even try to read aloud anymore, Tommy and the others would make fun of him and you're not there to hold his hand.

At eleven you and Steve share math class. He is no good with numbers and so are you. You pass your time drawing as he looks around laughing with his friend. You both need help from a tutor to pass every test and have this obsession with math being useless, something invented just to make some people feel better then others. That's the only thing you have in common lately. So your professor pairs you up, assigns you more homeworks and somehow expects you to just magically get along and help each other. And you try, 'cause at least you undestand something about numbers, you just don't like studying them. "You're doing it wrong, you need to do the calculations in parentheses first."

"You're not my boss y/n. "

"I'm not trying to be. It's just math Harrington... and you are doing it wrong." On opposite sides of the same table, you keep working on your assignment and he won't give you a red pen, even if he has one that he doesn't need. So you laugh when you see him fail again. "Yeah...it's math and you suck too at it." He replies without even looking at you, eyebrows arched in an angry.and maybe at least a little bit - hurt expression. "But you suck more". He pauses, finally his eyes are on you and you think he is ugly and stupid, like every other boy your age. "Sorry" He murmurs, smiling lightly. Now he is not that ugly anymore. You shrug. "It's fine."

"You were right" He confesses. "I'm doing it wrong."

"I know, Steve." You reply, proudly. "You're not stupid, why are you here?" He asks. You look at him bewildered. "And why are you?"

"Because I'm stupid, Y/n." You would like to tell him that it is not true, that you don't like hearing these things. That he is intelligent, it's the others who don't know how to explain things to him in the right way. Instead you sit in heavy silence, flipping through pages of your book, cause in the end he still hasn't give you the red pen and he doesn't share his crayons with you anymore just like he doesn't share anything else.

At thirteen you are Steve Harrington's first kiss, even if it doesn't count cause it's just a stupid game at stupid Tommy Hagan's birthday party and you've complained from the moment the bottle of destiny - as Carol calls it- has chosen you two. "It's Harrington." You protest putting on a disgusted expression, because deep down you don't want anyone to see your embarrassment or the blush on your cheeks and you're terrified that your heartbeat could be heard even at distance. "I really have to do this? "

"Believe me, I don't want to kiss you either Cunnigham. There are way prettier girl in this room" You roll your eyes and he notices you do this a lot when he is around. "I'm not kissing him." You state. He is even uglier now, with little hairs on the chin and under the nose that he likes to call a beard. "It's a game Y/n you have to follow the rules" Tommy intervenes. "Not everyone knows how to play fair" Harrington comments. His words sound like a challenge, his face morphs into a grin and -again- you hate him. All eyes are on you and your friends are taking bets. Your eyes flit down to his lips for just one moment, then you get closer and he can't really believe this is actually happening. He waits for you to take a step back untill he can feel you hot breath on his own mouth. He keeps staring right past your shoulder where Tommy is laughing hard, He is afraid he will lose himself if his eyes met yours and then everybody would understand the horrible truth: Steve Harrington wants to kiss Y/n Cunnigham. Your lips meet without even realizing, a bit hesitant but soft. It's chaste, a simple touch of wet lips, steady hands, open eyes yet it's everything you've ever dreamed of, a stupid boy kissing you without even wanting to. None of this should matter, but...the boy is Steve Harrington of all the people, so you care.

At sixteen, Tina has organized the most amazing birthday party: a camping night in the woods with tends and wine, cans of beer, music and even a bonfire. It's something you've never done before and you are way too excited. It's been a good day so far and for once in your life you want to do something wrong. More than usual. When Tina offers you a cup full of cheap wine, you drink it all in one sip and immediately fill another glass only to throw that down perhaps too quickly. "Don't we have something stronger? " You ask. A guy you don't know makes you some fruity drink and the two of you stand close, he caress your hand as you take your cup with a loose smile. From faraway, behind the bonfire's flames, Steve Harrington smiles at you, raised eyebrow. It's stupid but it makes your heart stops and you suddenly feel warm. He his not the same as the kid you've kissed once, he is grown and it's no a coincidence that they call him King Steve now. He is the most charming boy at school, funny, handome, cool and you can't help but feel something for him, you can't even find a name for that emotion. It's an old affection and a stubborn bitterness, cause somewhere along the way you lost him and now you can only be a little part of his life when you used to be his all world. Everyone is talking too loudly, breathing in smoke, singing, dancing. People start slipping away slowly, disappearing in pairs or groups, holding hand or already kissing like nobody else is there. He moves closer to you. King Steve sees you alone, sitting there, and when you feel his body so near you pull your gaze away from the campfire and focus on him, the way the light defines the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, and the highpoints of his cheeks. He's perfect. "You shouldn't be here all alone Cunnigham. It's a party"

"I'm partying" You reply, showing him you cup full of alcohol. "What a funny girl, life of the party" He is sarcastic, and you know it, but you still smile. "I am, just not with everyone. Not everybody deserves me"

"Guess who'll be lucky enough."

"Not you, Harrington." He shakes his head, takes your cup and drink it all. He needs liquid courage, you stir him un and he can't help but feel this need of being near you and it had hirt him for so long it's driving him insane yet he never manages to really be with you, he just stand there somewhere between your friends. You go out with the same people and in the same places, but maybe that's not enough for him anymore. He laughs. "Obviously, you hate me."

"You've dumped me"You reply, hiding your smile. "I was nine, Y/n"

"Still haven't heard you say sorry." You get closer, blinking and putting on a puppy expression. "Sorry, really, I didn't mean to broke your tiny baby heart" He moves is hands dramatically and it's funny, it feels so right to be with him, to play together like children. "Mhh seven years late Stevie boy" After an embarrassing silence, you dedice to ask what you've been secretly questioning all night. "So where's Paula?" You know, just like everybody, that Steve Harrington doesn't have real releshionships, but still you wanna hear it with you ears. You wanna hear that the girl he's been seen kissing at the cinema it's nothing more than one of the many. It's stupid, maybe even bad, not feminist at all but... You can't help but feel that way. And you are way to drunk to be ethical. "I don't know, I don't care... She's not really my problem. "

"And that means...?" Steve rolls his eyes, leaning a little too close to you. "I think you know what that means, Y/n. You know me" He pauses, staring at you. "I don't know you Steve. I know the child Steve Harrington, not King Steve."

"It's not that different. "

"It is, like a lot" You breathe out, the air around you has never felt warmer, Steve Harrington never as unfamiliar as he is now. "I'm still him, the same boy who adored you." His eyes scan your face, they are everywhere, following imaginary roads on your skin and you lean on, your nose touching. You feel like you're floating somewhere between a memory and a dream. "You're such a good liar Harrington." So you kiss him, lips on his, as you smile. You move away before he can reciprocate. "Y/n, what are you doing?" He is breathless, confused and excited. "Nothing" You reply, laughing. He lets his fingers help through your hair, grab your head and gently brings you closer to him again. "I enjoy this nothing"

At eighteen, Steve Harrington has learned how to really love someone. That someone it's not you. And you are not really surprised cause it's always been so difficult between you two, bad timing and complications, silence and pride. So, eighteen years old Steve Harrington who knows how to love someone else - the most perfect girl in the whole universe if that makes it any better - it's your first time among the other things. And even if the premises are not the best, to tell the truth you could not imagine someone else in his place. He shows up at your door one day in the November of your senior year of high school. His face is swollen, his skin marked by blows, bruised he looks like someone who hasn't slept for too long. He rings at your door, regardless of the possibility that your parents will open, but luckily you are the one to do it. "Oh my god" Is all you can say. "Steve." You whisper, your hands shake, you place fingers on his warm skin. You haven't really spoken to each other from your kiss, nothing more than superficial conversations from acquaintances and no reference to your situation, of any kind. You are friends, perhaps and now he is in your home. He moves his head even closer to you, like a cat. "What happened to you?" You are scared. He looks at you for a while as if he is thinking about what to tell you or how to do it. "Nothing special, just a bad encounter with Hargrove"

"That bastard."

"Don't worry, really. I don't even know why I'm here"

As he's sitting on your bed he tells you about Billy's threats to Lucas and that he got beaten up for those kids, you have the feeling that something is missing, a piece of the story, but you say nothing and you keep applying ice to his wounds. "I wasn't the hero they needed ... Max had to think about it in the end" "Steve, Lucas would probably be in hospital if you weren't there. You're their hero, heroes don't always win ... Especially when bad guys smash a plate in their head." He puts his hand on yours and strokes you with his thumb, leaving you speechless and breathless. You don't know what's going on, you just know you don't want to be anywhere else. "I don't know what to do without you" You close your eyes, trying to calm your heart before making reckless gestures. "Steve" Your voice is thin. "What are you doing here?" You ask "I needed to see you ... I didn't want ... To be alone" He confesses, sincerely, letting his fingers run down your neck.

"Why me Steve? You should be with her ... Nancy"

"We broke up" he replies, you see a flash of suffering pass in his eyes but you decide to ignore it. "I'm sorry"

"But I'm here because I wanted to be here, with you. Not because we broke up. "

It makes your heart flutter You shouldn't care, this is all wrong, yet you want to pretend for a moment that you are different people entirely. He is not Steve, not Nancy Wheeler's ex boyfriend, not you childhood friend. His lips are on you neck. His lips are on your lips. He's breathing out your name like it's his religion. His warm skin against yours all that matters now.

"Are you s.. " He starts, breathless, his eyes flitting up and down your face, to your lips, always back to your lips. "I'm sure. I am " You cut in, gently. He leans in again and you do the same and God, you think while he undo your bra, his expert mouth kisses your breast and plays with your nipples. It's Steve Harrington, its always been Steve Harrington.

Nineteen years old y/n Cunningham says I love to a guy who can't say it back. You are back from college, on vacation you tell people, never going back you think. You always thought you know what you want, what you can do, who you want to be. But here you are, back at Howinks, lost and absolutely not ready to face your ex. You and Steve have been together for a short period after your first time, but again bad timing and too much insecurities made your relationship a living hell.

You had to go to college, he wasn't even accepted. Obviously it wasn't a problem for you. It was for him. "You deserve someone better" He'd whispered before letting you go, kissing tears away from your cheeks. You meet him again on your birthday, you have been in town for a few days and you decide to go and see the new shopping center, Starcourt mall, with your little sister Chrissy. Harrington wears a ridiculous uniform and despite this you can't help but find him handsome and sweet, you have to count to ten to not rush to hug him. He walks towards the parking next to a girl, dressed exactly like him. You've seen her a few times at school. He looks at her with admiration, Dustin is with them and he laughs with her. You can't help but feel your heart breaking. "Sorry I forgot to tell you, he works here." You don't reply and try to hide before they see you. "Y/n" Dustin's voice surprises you. It's too late. With a quick run Steve reaches you while you walk away. "Y/n wait!" You turn to him, trying to smile.

"Hey, Steve. How are you?"

"You're back" His voice is soft, he's studying you carefully. "Just for a little while" You hide your shaking hands behind your back. "Now I have to go" You tell him, running away before he can see you cry.

It happens a few days later. News of the Starcourt fire spreads in Hawkins quickly. And so you run and run, the car doesn't even seem to go fast enough. When you arrive, ambulances are everywhere and you can't see Steve. Filled with panic, your eyes shoot around the parking lot, gaining a worried glance from Steve's coworker who's sitting in the back of a truck. You keep looking around for any sign of the boy, your stomach churns as you begin to think of every possible thing that could've happened to him, tears begin to pool in your eyes. The girl who works with Steve places a hand on your shoulder, "Y/n?" You turn to face her. "You..."

"Yes, of course I know you. Steve talks a lot about you." She says. She'a mess, she's got bruises on her face and arms and she seems like about to break down, so you put a hand on her shoulder and squeeze it lightly to comfort her. "Are you okay...?"

"Robin, I'm Robin and yes, thank you. I'm okay, we all are" You smile, keep searching for Steve. You need to see him, to know if he really is okay. "Looking for somebody?" You can't bring yourself to answer, but it doesn't matter because Robin speaks up once again, "He is over there, see." Your head snaps forward, locking eyes with Steves. You run to him, quick to close the remaining distance between you, wrapping your arms around his body. He lets out a quiet cry and circles his arms around your waist. "Sorry.. Sorry are you hurt?" You ask, your face buried in his chest. He shakes is head. "I'm okay" His voice is raught and he trembles

"I-I thought... " You cry. "I'm fine I'm fine baby. Shit, I'm so glad you're here," He holds onto you tighter, almost as if he believes you would disappear if he lets go even for a second. You don't know what has really happened or what he has seen but you do the same thing, feeling in the exact same way: like you almost lost him for real. A relieved sob escapes your mouth as he leans back to gaze at you, taking in every inch of you face. Now you can fully see him to. He has been beaten, no fire - nothing but human hands- can do such a terrible thing. His face is a mess. "What... Steve what is this?"

"It's nothing." He replies, but his eyes are lost in a memory, distant and hurt. You caresses his damaged skin with all the delicacy and the dedication you have." Stop saying that Stevie, this is important. You are. Who did is to you? Fire don't do such things." He let's out a sob, the kind of sob so heart wrenching it hurts you to hear. He feel like he can't breathe, he can't focus on anything else besides the Russians beating him, the fear of dying and the fact he couldn't protect Robin and he have sold Dustin to them and they almost died cause he wasn't good enough to protect them. And its all hell and he can't tell you, cause he can't let you get involved with this shit. All he can smell is the blood, there's so much blood - his own, Hargrove's one, the flayed one. He doesn't really know - and smoke. He doesn't even realize how badly he's shaking until a steady and warm arm wraps around his shoulder again soon. You are the only thing that's keeping him calm. "It's okay. Y-You're okay." You his his forehead. He hugs and pull you closer, burying his head into your chest, tears and blood leaving stains on your shirt. "Stevie what happened?" You ask again. He shakes his head. "I don't wanna talk about it, not now." When he calms down you can't stop staring at him. He's right there in front of you and he is all you ever wanted, all you will ever need in life and you can't let him go, not again. "What" He finally says, a half laugh caught in his throat, a smile forming on his face. "I love you" You say simply, like it's this obvious thing. This easy thing. You love him. You love the fact that his eyes feel like summer and sun, everything about him shines like a million stars and he can make you laugh and show you a way of seeing things in life nobody else will ever think about. He looks at you in disbelief. "I love you too" That's what he wants to say. He has loved you since he was a stupid kid, and maybe you are the only one he has ever really loved. Not Nancy. Not Robin. He was searching for you in them, in the way they talk, in the way their brains work, in the intelligence and the way they never take him seriously. It never felt the same anyway. You love him and that's the most beautiful - heartbreaking- thing ever cause he can't say it back. He can't. He has one job: to protect you, the only way for keeping you away from all this mess is for you to be as far away as possible from this haunted city and from him. Even if it seems to be over and maybe they've really won this time... How can he be sure? They always think they can live their happy ever after but then there's always a new monster, a new danger to fight. People've died, this time way more than the others. Innocent people like you, living their life as always, not stupid kids who've decided to play the hero against the Upside Down. Maybe if he tells you the truth you would be safer, he could protect you, and for a moment it seems to be a great option, but now you live miles and miles away and in his heart he knows he must let you go. Even if it kills him. So he doesn't say it back, he just kisses you, trying to impress in his memory the taste of you lips, the softness of your skin and the perfume of your hair. Tomorrow will be another day and he will do what is neded. He will push you away forever, he will make you hate him.

"You don't love me" You say slowly. carefully. You don't know what to say, you could have believed it maybe when you they were nine or thirteen, or even seventeen even, now, though, you've been stupid enought to let yourself fall for a childish fantasy in which Steve Harrington acutally loved you. He blinks over you, trying to stop tears from coming. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry but I don't I... Care. But I don't love you... I'm in love with someone else." That's the most difficult thing he has ever done in his life. He has to pretend, pretend like there's no possibility for the future, but he doesn't want to live in a world where he doesn't need you. "Robin?" You ask, shaking. He nods, cause he doesn't know what to do or say. You smile. "She seems pretty cool" You reply, sobbing. "For a moment... I thought you..."

"It was egoistic but I wanted her here and... I've settled for you cause you were there" You close your eyes and back out of his bedroom- where you have spent the night with him, taking care of his wounded body, watching his restless sleep, calming him down during nightmares - and you walk down the stairs. He doesn't follow you. At nineteen, Steve Harrington breaks your heart and this time you hope it will be the last.

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razorblade180 · 2 years ago

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Dragonslayer week Day2: Nerd & Jock

Free time, the evilest time at gym. It was like the lunch room hierarchy but extra sweaty; everyone had clique. Lazy people, the try hards, cheerleaders, and then there was Yang; who sat on the bleachers with her ponytail high, glasses on, and face in her drawings. Well, halftime. The other half was looking up at her muse, the up and coming soccer star this year, Jaune Arc.

Yang:*sketching intensely*

Ruby:*looming from behind*…Damn you really like his calves.

Yang:Aaaah! Ruby!!! Don’t-

The notebook was swiped immediately and Ruby was already soaking up the various poses on the paper while fending of her sister.

Yang:Shouldn’t you be playing baseball!!?

Ruby:Nobody wants to challenge me. Plus this looked more fun. You really like his calves.

Yang:Please give it back…

Ruby:*hands it over* You should charge him for those. I bet he’ll get a kick out of it. Ya know, learning his secret biggest fan at all his games has been watching every play. Down. To. The. Flex.

Yang:*blushing* Please stop. I have a reputation.

Ruby:Of being a wallflower for no reason and choosing robotics when you can launch a football like a canon if you showed anyone? That reputation?

Yang:Hush! You know sports aren’t my style. It’s different, calming. Some might say-

Ruby:I swear if you say-

Yang:STEMulating.

Ruby:Eugh, why are you soooo like this? I like machines but add puns. It’s the literal part that makes the power points cringy.

Yang:You’re just not funny.

Ruby:And your just IN LOVE WI-

Yang covered her sister’s mouth immediately and turned away as people stared. Like the entire soccer team.

Yang:What are you doing!?

Ruby:I refuse to let you stare at a boy for an entire season. I will introduce you to him.

Yang:You two are friends!? *let’s go*

Ruby:Nah we’ve met in passing.

Yang:Then how would you introduce me.

Ruby:It’s easy. All I gotta do is- YO JAUNE!

she flips off the back of the bleachers, leaving Yang to be the only person in that direction. Fear grips her as Jaune turns around like anybody would, locking eyes with her.

Jaune:Umm yes? That was you right?

Yang:Uhhh sure?

Jaune:*smiles* Call me crazy, but I don’t think that was your voice three seconds ago. *clearly sees Ruby hiding*

Yang:….Yeah I got nothing. I’m sorry for my sister. She’s…yeah.

Jaune:Hehe, it’s all in good fun. My little sisters are the same. So she’s clearly just being a gremlin, or you did have something you wanted to say?

Ruby:(Oh good job Yang. He’s smart.)

Yang:I…like your calves.

Jaune:….

Ruby:(Oh good job Yang. You’re blowing it.)

Yang:*red* I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry!

Jaune:So my calves aren’t likable?

Yang:No they are!

Jaune:*smiles*

Yang:…..*raises book*

Jaune:What’s your name, fellow older sibling?

Ruby:It’s Yang Xiao Long and she likes drawing and robotics!

Yang:Can you not!?

Jaune:Really? That’s cool. Do you draw robot designs in that book?

Yang:….Occasionally.

Jaune:Makes sense. I thought you were writing down our plays or something considering I see you in that book at every game.

Yang:You’ve noticed that? *peeks*

Jaune:*red* Yeah. I uhhh like your glasses. They match your eyes.

Yang:Oh…thank you.

Jaune:No prob-

Ren hits him in the back of the head with a ball.

Jaune:Ow! Ren, why!?!?

Ren:Because I need someone to steal the ball from Neptune! I’m sick of catching all of his shots!

Neptune:Think of it has practice! I’m making you better.

Jaune:Uhhh

Yang:You should probably get back to it then? Soccer I mean.

Jaune:Yeah. You have lunch next peri-?

Yang:Yes. *points* Back table. Umm, not sure why I’m pointing; we’re not at the lunch room- I’m really fumbling. I swear I’m much smoother than this. Ruby is the weird one. I promise.

Jaune:Haha. Honestly I’m relieved. I’ve been meaning to say hi but didn’t even know your name. Well, Yang, I’ll see you at lunch?

Yang:*nods happily*

Jaune:Kay! *walks off* Neptune, Ren will kill you.

Ruby:*climbs bleachers* See? I knew you had it in ya.

Yang:I’m going to fight you later.

Ruby:Before that, some advice for my sister? He’s definitely gonna want to see the notebook. *runs off*

Yang:….

Yang:He’s gonna think I’m the weird one.

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #rwby dragonslayer #dragonslayerweek2022 #ruby rose #lie ren #neptune vasilias

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

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Technically Still a Crime

For @nocturna-starr

“My dude,” said Danny, “I am really, really sorry about your window, but there are only so many ways to tell you that I’m not going to rat you out to the government for…” He let his eyes roam over the room full of t-shirts. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d even rat you out for. Did you steal these from the mall or something?”

Danny had been doing his normal ghost hunting routine when he’d been thrown into a mostly empty office building by an oversized mountain-lion ghost. He’d caught the ghost, but by that time the window was a lost cause, and everyone inside the not-actually-uninhabited building was freaking out about the IRS or the police or something.

At least, the people in the room were. Maybe if there were any people in other parts of the building, they were calmer.

He rubbed his head. He didn’t think he had a concussion, but he’d definitely taken a few whacks to his good old noggin and he was having trouble focusing.

“No, no,” said the man (short, round, vaguely South Asian, but honestly could have been from anywhere), “so theft, no stealing.”

“Then I’m not sure what the problem is. You aren’t hiding, like, kidnapping victims in here, are you?” he peered past the man, core flaring.

“No! No.” The man leaned closer to Danny. Danny mirrored him. “We are making…” He let the pause drag on. “Knockoffs.”

“Oh,” said Danny. “Cool.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Nope.”

“But you’re, like, a superhero.”

“Dude. Dude. My existence is literally illegal in all fifty states. I am breaking so many laws right now.”

“What?”

“Being a ghost is one-hundred-percent illegal. Those government agent dudes that chase me around sometimes want to dissect me. I’m not going to report you to anyone.” He paused. “As long as this isn’t a sweatshop or anything. I draw the line at hurting people.”

“Oh,” said the man, as if he’d just been given a revelation.

“Yeah. Also, do my pupils look the same size to you? I think I have a concussion.”

“What?”

“Because sometimes I prophesy when I have a concussion, and that’s just a bad time for everyone. Also, don’t get a dog.”

“Uh.”

Someone deeper in the room, hidden by a rack of clothing called for the man, who quickly ran off. Danny shrugged and flew away. He’d get Jazz to check him for concussions.

Somehow, inexplicably, word got out that Danny Phantom was down for crime.

This led to three separate people asking him to help them break into Vlad’s manor. Which. Danny wasn’t against on principle, but still. He declined.

(The ones who were trying to burglarize non-evil people got rejected with a bit more force.)

“I don’t know why people keep asking me to do crime,” said Danny. “I don’t do crime.”

“Yes, you do,” said Tucker. He showed Danny his card. “What does this one do, again?”

Danny was attempting to teach Tucker, well, it didn’t have an English name. Ghost poker, essentially. With Tucker’s card-counting skills, Danny reckoned they could sweep the literally underground ghost poker tournament. If Tucker could learn the rules.

“For that one, you have to draw from the deck again,” said Danny. “Anyway, this is different.”

“You are wanted by the law in two dimensions.”

“Walker is not the law,” scoffed Danny. “Except, you know, on his own island.”

“You’re illegal by existing. You’ve convinced me to gamble for money.”

“That’s not illegal.”

“It’s a felony, Danny. You blew up Vlad’s house. I think that counts as arson. Or something.”

“That was an accident.”

“The vandalism.”

“Okay, that wasn’t an accident.”

“The ghost weed—”

“Ghost nip,” corrected Danny.

“Ghost nip thing wasn’t technically illegal, but I’m pretty sure that’s because the government doesn’t know it exists. As soon as they know it gives dead people superpowers—”

“Dead people already have superpowers. And that was also an accident. I hate being high.”

“Sure. Anyway. Danny, you live a half-life of crime.”

Danny grumbled.

“I think that swatting Vlad was also a crime.”

“Not swatting. It was the GIW.”

“Still illegal. How about those ectoguns? You have a concealed carry permit for them?”

“They aren’t real guns.”

“They’re real weapons. You bring them to school.”

Danny abandoned his hand of cards to push his face into one of his pillows. “Stoppit. I’m not crime.”

“You are crime. Honestly, I think you should try to see how many crimes you can rack up.”

“Seeing as this is kind of life and death,” said Danny, “I don’t really want to push it.”

“Because you’re half alive and half dead?”

“No, because the GIW will kill me if they catch me, and if the government gets me, they’ll give me to the GIW.”

“Oh. Wow. That got dark really fast.” Tucker fell silent for a bit. Neither of them was paying attention to their card game anymore. “Hey, what about that car we stole, isn’t that-?”

“Hrrrngh,” said Danny.

“The IRS?” said Danny, incredulously. “You’re IRS agents?”

The larger of the two suited men tried to pull himself out of the ectoplasmic web. “Uh,” he said.

“Yes,” said the shorter man. “Did you know, filing a false death report is a crime, as is not filing a death certificate?”

“You were carrying shotguns.”

“Tax evaders can be dangerous.”

“Shotguns full of salt.”

“We aren’t approved for lethal force.”

“Salt.”

“It’s cheaper than a taser.”

Danny shook his head. “Just admit that you’re ghost hunters and go home.”

“Only after you admit that you’re committing tax fraud.”

“I’m not committing tax fraud! I don’t even file taxes!”

“Also a crime!”

“I make no money!”

“Or so you claim!”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Wait!” said the taller one. “You’re not going to leave us here, are you?”

“It’ll dissolve! Eventually!” shouted Danny.

“I’ve got to pee!”

“Tough!”

“Don’t you dare!” shouted the other. “I’m right below you!”

Danny was not paid enough for this. (Or at all, technically.)

Danny stood between Johnny and Technus, staring at the clinking, churring machine that continuously output sheets of thick green paper.

“Why?”

“I’ve always wanted to get involved in a serious crime,” said Johnny.

“I, TECHNUS, MASTER OF ALL TECHNOLOGY, WILL CONQUER THE UNITED STATES ECONOMY USING THE POWER OF COUNTERFEIT CURRENCY.”

“Oh my god,” said Danny. He looked at the nearest sheet. “Are those all ones?”

“THE LEAST LIKELY CURRENCY TO BE CHECKED, ACCORDING TO MY RESEARCH.”

“Oh my god,” repeated Danny. He brought his hands together as if praying, then looked heavenward. “You probably have more of these hidden somewhere, so I don’t want to deal with it.”

“No, this is—”

Technus rammed his elbow into Johnny’s side.

“I don’t want to deal with it,” repeated Danny. “Don’t spend it in Amity Park. Or Elmerton.”

“Gotcha,” said Johnny. “How much do you want for your cut.”

“I want to go back in time to before you told me about this, that’s what I want,” said Danny.

“So, Sam,” said Tucker, “did you hear that Danny’s now a crime boss?”

“I am going to commit murder.”

“That’s a crime, Danny.”

“I have a very good motive.”

“Technically,” said Tucker, now edging away from Danny, “that’s still a crime.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2021

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goopys-art · 3 years ago

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I love transformers and drew this because I thought Philza as a seeker would fit him. Loves flying, he's definitely a fighter jet. Then I had to draw Technoblade because his name already sounded like a tf name. He's a space shuttle and they go space exploring together. Have a few hcs for this au? under the cut ^^

I'm just being a nerd here alskdjgsgd Pre-war Philza: Philza is ancient. He's old and had been remodeled a few times. Better engines, sleeker and aerodynamic frame, etc. Got the whole "Angel of Death" thing going on coz he's so good at the craft job. A weapon for hire. It's what he's made for but always found it restrictive to devote his whole life to and sometimes he gets bodyguard jobs for important political figures and those are the worst! He's tired and wants to explore the vast universe. He would have wanted to get into engineering or xenobiology if he could. Most of his equipment are custom made by him. It's a part of his passion. He self taught himself a lot of trades and steals medical books so he knows how to treat himself and patch wounds. He's someone that wants to keep ahead so it makes sense to learn more but he runs into the threat of anyone finding out that the reason he's so good for several years is because he's been secretly doing things outside of what a fighter jet should be.

It drives him up the wall. He wants to be free to do what he wants and be what he wants. So when the decepticons first started making themselves known and the promise of rising up against the corrupt system sounded pretty nice... he doesn't sign up for the cause. He can see the signs of a war a mile a way and he would much rather get out while he can before the political tensions breaks into chaos.

Pre-war Techno: Technoblade would have done delivery work like transporting energon from one of the moons and back. He's space worthy and has pretty thick plating to do the job. He's also bored out of his mind. The most fun he gets is when he gets to travel further from Cybertron to load and unload trades and goods in neighboring planets. A good change in scenery but he always wanted more. So he hears of this illegal gladiatorial pit somewhere and thinks "Yeah, I could do that". There aren't any other choices. Since it's all underground, they wouldn't question a shuttle for wanting to get in. Fighting is cool. He's getting pretty good at it since he's big and that makes for a good show. He trains and finds swords his favorite to use. A crowd favorite the likes like Megatron but Techno would rather not fight the dude? He looks like he's trying to start a movement. That's not the kind of beef he wants to associate himself with. But now he's trapped because the pits aren't really safe in the long run and fighting had turned into outliving everyone else and that's kinda a lot? He just wanted to be more than just the delivery guy but now people know his name and he can't escape coz he's a criminal in the arena. The decepticons wanna recruit him and he really doesn't want to be tied down to anything anymore even if he agrees with their cause.

And then the two meet Philza's looking for a free space shuttle and Techno is looking to get out of Cybertron. They meet and are immediately like "Yeah, of course, we need to get out of here!" Riots are happening around them and they get as much stuff as they can and run. It was easy for them to slip away because everyone's focusing on the war rn. A lot of other neutrals are fleeing too and they blend right in but break away to make it out on their own.

They chill out in space and go planet hopping for supplies for years. If any trouble were to come their way, they destroy it. Typical Techno and Philza shenanigans. They are the strongest duo out there and keep adopting alien pets to go with them. Eventually they get a ship so Techno doesn't have to be a shuttle all the time and they set up a base far away from the war as they can. Headcanons: -They would have joined the decepticons because initially, the cause had some good points. Cybertron needed major change but Megatron's revolution would have been far too violent.

-Philza saw how dangerous the world would get really early on and wanted to get out. Fighting for a war even if he's made for it? Again? Like his whole life? "No sir. I've been through that. It never ends well."

-Technoblade is a name he gave himself in the pits. It's when he was still trying to find his own identity and found his love for pvp and swords.

-Technoblade saw a video of a pig once and said "yeah that's me"

-Philza makes Techno weapons all the time and then teaches him how to make his own.

-They're pretty efficient together but neither of them are mechanics or know how to make their own energon. So it had been a big struggle at first but they're both fast learners.

-They get mistaken for decepticons all the time. It's the stereotype and they fit the bill. Big brutish dude and a seeker. Both armed to the teeth.

-They become amicas after years of having each other's backs. Amica Endura is kinda like a best friends thing

#technoblade #philza #emerald duo #this is the most ive ever typed

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shokobuns · 4 years ago

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“𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐞��𝐛𝐫𝐨?”

your irritating step brother likes to come in your room during your zoom classes.

PAIRING: stepbro!gojo satoru x f!reader

GENRE(S): smut, quarantine!au (au? LMAO), college!au, taboo

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNING(S): darkish, smut, drug use (weed), high sex, stepcest, taboo, slight dubcon, slight manipulation, exhibitionism (if you squint), sensory deprivation (blindfold), degradation, size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), squirting, dacryphilia (if you squint)

(A/N): this rly do be my first time using proper capitalization huh, anyways all characters, SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD THE READ MORE I FIXED IT

More.

One thing you easily learned about Satoru was the fact he wasn’t easy to satisfy. He’s demanding, cocky, all the while being nonchalant. He rarely exerts effort, but gets the desired results. He’s arrogant, but it’s nearly impossible to point out a flaw to counter it at all.

It makes your head hurt. It makes your teeth clench.

When you make eye contact, you make sure to stare back daggers. When you’re forced to talk to him, your voice stays monotone and expressionless. When you’re in a room with him for more than five minutes, your earbuds are already out, drowning out the sound of his voice. But it’s all difficult when you’re under the same roof.

Knock. Knock.

You roll your eyes at the sound of your step brother knocking your door, wondering what the hell he wants now. At this point, he’s probably just trying to annoy you, poke at your sides until he gets attention, any kind of attention, all just to satisfy his boredom.

Your calm demeanor and sharp tongue has always contrasted with Satoru’s teasing attitude. He’s always seemingly trying to provoke you, trying to pry apart the walls you’ve barricaded yourself in. His personality never rubbed you in the right way from the day your dad surprised you with a dinner with your new brother and your new mom. It didn’t matter anyways, you thought. You’d be going off to university soon enough.

The pandemic ran over all of your plans like a truck.

Better yet, your parents still had work without the option of staying home, leaving you and Satoru home alone for a little over eight hours a day. When he wasn’t in class or tutoring his juniors, he was knocking at your door, most likely red-eyed, though you can’t see it, and relaxed. Despite his persistence, you rarely let him in no matter how insistent he is in “getting to know his new lil sister.”

“Go away, Satoru.”

Behind the door, he pouts while you scribble down notes from the screenshared presentation. He comes in anyways, reeking of marijuana and cologne, half of his shirt buttons undone. You steal a small glance before once again glueing your eyes to your computer screen. The voice of your professor bores you, but you’re hyper aware of Satoru’s presence as he makes himself comfortable on your bed. “Get the fuck off! You stink!” You yell, turning off your camera before throwing a pencil right at him.

He catches it mid air with ease, relaxing his head on your pillows while fiddling with one of your many Sanrio plushies. “Can I have this?” he asks, holding one up as you contemplate its value in your head.

“If it gets you out of my room, then sure.” you reply in a monotone voice, turning back to your notes.

“You’re no fun,” he mumbles, rolling over to lay on his side with the plushie in his arms, “Is that organic chem?”

“Yeah, can you go now?”

“I’ll be quiet, princess. Don’t worry about me, just wanna know what my lil sis is up to.” He waits for a response, but is only rewarded with a huff.

It stays like that for the next ten minutes, him watching your professor’s lecture, you scrambling to write all of the information on the slides as he continues the fast paced lesson. You’re hyper focused on your class, putting in your effort to absorb the entirety of the content. In your mind, the only people in your room are your and your computer. “You know, you don’t have to understand everything all at once,” a voice speaks up from behind you, causing you to purse your lips in annoyance, “It’s easier to learn when you’re actually paying attention to the lecture instead of focusing on trying to get everything down.

“We get it, Satoru. You have straight A’s and you’re naturally good at everything.”

“Hey, you’re getting advice from an aspiring teacher. Don’t need to use that tone with me, Princess.” He mumbles, rolling to his back on the bed, “Just tryna help you out in my free time.”

“I don’t need your help.”

He stays silent while you go back to drawing some of your basic compounds. Ethanol, methanol, propane, all of it. Your scribbles are messy and they progressively fill out the page in your notebook. You hear a tsk behind you, rolling your eyes as you prepare for another criticism from Satoru. Sure, he was probably right, but you refuse to feed into his ego. “Does he not link the slides to you guys or something?” he asks, this time with a friendlier tone.

“He does.” you reply, swiveling your chair until you’re facing him. He’s laying on his side again, his shirt spilling off his shoulder as your breath hitches at the sight. The blindfold is snug against his face, his hair pushed up. You’re sure that the stink of marijuana has rubbed onto your sheets and you make a mental note to wash them after class. “Then get high with me.”

“I’m in the middle of class, dumbass.”

“But you can always look at the slides later.” he suggests, “Plus, you’ve looked super stressed lately. Wonder why.”

Because of you, you want to say, but you stop yourself, opting to stay silent while pondering the offer. “Sure.”

He excitedly walks back to his room, returning to your bed seconds later with a joint between his fingertips. “This your first time?”

“Nah.”

“Ooooo,” he hums like a child, “That’s what you’re up to when we’re not around, huh?” he teases and you shake your head with a smile forming on your face.

“I guess.”

He shrugs, holding the joint up to your lips and lighting up the tip. You suck in the smoke into your lungs, holding it in, before exhaling out the screen door of your window. He takes a hit, opening his mouth and inhaling through his nose then passing it back to you. Your professor’s lecture fades into background noise as you fixate on Satoru, finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for weeks. He makes a mental note to offer you weed the next time he’s overcome by boredom.

The high hits you almost immediately. You’ve never had anything this strong and it’s liberating. You feel weightless, but your eyelids feel heavy. Your face is awfully warm and lifted and your vision gets more and more blurry by the second. The intoxication is pleasant, the present worries in your head being cut off as you focus on what’s right in front of you.

Satoru.

Satoru, your dear, irritating step brother who was kind enough to share the weed he stashes in his drawer. It’s getting harder and harder to hate him and you can’t reason why you felt so many negative emotions that you projected onto him at all. Sure, your room reeks and it’s all because of him, but the sight of him laying on your bed in a shirt that barely covers up his upper body makes your underwear feel uncomfortable. You don't know where it’s coming from, but shutting it out was easy when you’re sober. Key word: sober.

You stand from your desk, making your way to your bed and laying next to him. Both of you face each other, easily getting comfortable, warmth radiating off his body. It feels oddly intimate and your thighs press together in order to suppress the lustful feeling that takes over your body. Your arm comes around to the back of his head, tugging on the fabric that covers his eyes. “Can I take it off?”

“Sure.”

He lifts his head, allowing you to pull on the knot until it becomes undone. You don’t know what you were expecting, maybe a scar or something, but you’re in awe of the blue orbs that make you feel like you were staring into infinity. They’re bloodshot and half lidded and it’s when one fact you really didn’t want to accept hits you.

Satoru Gojo is one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen.

And he’s your step brother.

Uneasiness stirs in your lower tummy and you curse at whatever higher power that decided to give you this type of luck, but a hand on your hip trails to your back, pulling your closer and closer until your faces are at a dangerous distance. You can feel your cheeks becoming alarmingly hot and you hate that you can’t blame it on the weed. His hand comes up to your cheeks, his thumb stroking the soft skin. “Thought you wanted me to go away?”

“Changed my mind.” you whisper, eyes slowly closing, lips parting open as you wait for him to lean in and close the gap.

“Hmm? What’s this?” he sneers, causing your eyes to shoot open and your body to jolt up from your bed. The hazy feeling on your head still remains, making it hard to stand completely straight. “Get out.” you sternly demand, leaning back on your desk chair and pointing towards your door.

“Why should I? I don’t think you really want me to leave, babe.” He props his head on his hand, leaning his elbow onto your mattress.

“It’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong? We’re just two people hanging out on a bed. Unless you were trying to do something else, dirty girl.”

“I- I wasn’t! You’re my step brother!”

“Step brother.” He repeats, justifying your actions.

You’re shaking, guilt occupying your mind keeping you distracted. It’s the perfect time for Satoru to get comfortable in the space between your legs, pulling down your loose shorts and taking you by surprise. Before you have a chance to protest, his nose brushes against your sensitive core, making you let out a squeak. “W-We can’t do this!”

“Didn’t you want this?” he questions, looking up at you with wide eyes, “Wanted me to take care of this pretty little pussy, right?”

You know you should be refusing. You know you should be pushing him out your door. But it’s so hard when his pupils are dilated and the grip on the sides of your thighs feels so right. At this point, you’re not thinking, only nodding along to whatever he’s saying, anticipating his next actions.

“So wet.” He mumbles, pulling down the flimsy fabric and throwing it off somewhere in the room. He licks a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, sucking softly on the pearl while holding you down as the pleasure causes you to jolt upwards. He sucks and slurps like it’s his last meal, making your empty walls pulsate and little whines along with to leave your lips. Looking down, your eyes meet his, the lower half of his face immersed in your cunt.

The wet muscle fucks into you, curling and pressing against your walls, while his thumb rubs against your little clit. He hits all the right spots that make you squirm, pushing your legs wide open to see more of your ruined pussy. The wetness collects on his mouth, his chin, and his cheeks, filling him with a sick sense of satisfaction. “Such a whore, aren’t ya?” he pulls away to comment, but your fingers thread through his hair, pushing his head back where you need him most.

The action is assertive, something he usually hates dealing with. Though this time, he’s filled with a sick sense of pride at the fact that he was able to turn you, someone who seemed to hate him with a burning passion, into a moaning mess with just his mouth. He hums satisfactorily, sending vibrations into your sensitive core that make your thighs shaky.

You’re already cumming in an embarrassingly short time, gushing all over his face while he laps up all the juices you have to offer.

Before you can process anything else, his lips capture yours, lifting your body and dropping you onto your bed. You look at him with half lidded eyes, still sensitive from your last orgasm, while he pulls off his own clothes. His length rests on the inside of your thigh and he’s huge, so huge that it feels heavy against your skin and it scares you. “Satoru, I don’t think I can take you-”

“Shhh, princess,” he reassures you, “You started this. You have to take it.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to speak, taking the fabric of his blindfold and covering your eyes, tying a tight knot on the back of your head. This isn’t right, a voice in your head tells you, but you ignore it because Satoru treats you so well. He keeps you company, gives you some of his weed, eats your pussy without you having to ask him.

The only thing you can see is black and you whine. You so badly want to see Satoru’s pretty face, his chiseled body, his thick cock, but your thoughts are interrupted by the fat tip prodding at your tiny hole. “Too big..” your voice trails off as your mind is lifted, only the feeling of him splitting you in half remaining. You’ve never felt so full and it feels so dirty, yet your slick says otherwise, betraying any rational part that still resides in your body.

“I got you, Princess, don’t worry.” He slurs, drunk on the sensation of your snug walls. The stretch strings, whimpers spilling from your lips, but his cock hits every spot like no other. By the time he’s fully inside of you, it feels like he’s actually in your guts and it’s all intensified by the isolated feeling, not being able to see him at all. Every bite on your shoulder, every kiss on your open mouth, every delicious drag on your gummy walls is amplified.

You’re already cumming around him, a ring of cream forming on his cock as he gazes down at your bare body, wrapping his lips around a sensitive nipple. You squeal, your breath hitching at the same time you clamp down around his throbbing length. “Already? Such a sensitive little princess, aren’t you?” He mutters in your ear, your nails digging into his shoulders, piercing the pale skin. Tears spill from your eyes, flowing down the sides of your face.

His teeth sink into your shoulder and you want to tell him to stop, but the words don’t quite leave your lips. Only babbling noises accompanied by the wet sounds of your cunt and skin slapping against skin. He’s still pounding into your cervix at a relentless pace, in awe of how your slick drips down his balls and onto the white sheets.

Every time he hits that sweet spot, there’s an odd feeling that forms, like you’re about to make a mess. And when your next orgasm washes over you in intense waves of euphoria, a clear liquid spurts from your cunny, coating his lower stomach and your inner thighs. “Who knew my little princess was such a messy girl?” he taunts, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“S-shut up-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he leans in close, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “I’ll clean it all up.”

His smooth voice causes you to squeeze around him, almost like you don’t want him to ever leave your cunt, and it gets harder and harder for him to move. “Fuck, baby you’re so tight, need you to loosen up,” he mumbles, his own orgasm finally approaching, your little cunny milking him for all he’s worth.

He’s rambling little praises, hot pleasure elevated by the high, his hips stuttering and his cock stuffing you to the brim with his warm seed. You both lay there, still intertwined and his body resting on top of yours.

“Ms. (L/N)! Did you have any questions about my lesson today?”

Your face drops in horror, your hand immediately pulling off the blindfold, as you push Satoru away from you and press the leave button on Zoom. A mix of your juices drop onto the floor and he chuckles, pulling you back to bed. “This isn’t over.”

He pins you back onto the mattress, his cock twitching at the sight of your leaking cunt, pulling your thighs until you’re close and pinning them to your chest. In one swift movement, his entire cock is shoved into your cunt, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass with every thrust, fucking his cum back into your womb.

Gojo Satoru would never be satisfied.

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sylverstorms · 4 years ago

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Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch. 11 (NSFW) (END)

Ch.1 Ch2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

If you are curious to know what my version of Alexia looks like, check here

All maids are dismissed from dinner at night.

The doors are kept sealed shut. It is clear whatever the Dimitrescus are discussing is not for ears outside of their family's to overhear.

You are thankful for the windows you have to focus on repairing while they talk. It keeps you from overthinking and that keeps you sane.

Once everything is fixed, the only physical sign of the nightmarish day you had is Cassandra's sickle, still embedded within what is no doubt a priceless painting.

You approach slowly, as though the weapon has a will of its own and can turn right around to finish the job of gutting you. Your fingers close around the leather handle. The first pull does nothing. The blade is so firmly lodged it won't budge an inch.

But you are nothing if not determined.

That is what you busy yourself with until you see a familiar fly come to land on your shoulder. It doesn't cut at your flesh, but it does bite and tug on your shirt. You understand the silent command to follow.

The insect leads you to the dining room. The table is cleaned, but the daughters are all still there, talking in hushed tones among themselves, poker faces adorning their expressions.

Three sets of yellowish eyes immediately fall to the sickle in your hand. Bela raises an amused eyebrow. The redhead whistles. "That looks sexy on you~"

"Can't imagine it would look as good in me." You give Cassandra a pointed look as you pull the chair beside her, but she only shrugs and leans back, motioning for you to hand it over.

"No... did you throw it at her?" Daniela guffaws. "And you missed?"

A sour grimace comes from the brunette. "I wasn't trying that hard..."

"What if I hadn't dodged?" you ask.

"...well. It's good that you did." Cassandra looks down at her manicured nails, as apologetic as she'll let herself be in front of her sisters.

"Do I want to know what was hit instead of Alexia?" Bela carefully asks.

"You really don't." Cassandra shakes her head and they leave it at that for both their sake.

"So." Bela speaks up after a brief moment of silence. "After our discussion with mother, we are to inform you that you're free to come and go from the castle as you please. Cassandra's key is as much hers as it is yours, now. But. Should any other maid escape using it or learn of our weakness, we'll have to do something nobody here wants."

"We'll have to brutally murder you to make an example. And whoever knows." Daniela cuts in and Cassandra gives her a glare. You aren’t looking forward to learning what their interpretation of the word ‘brutal’ is like.

"Yeah I... I could have guessed that." you reply.

"But I'm sure you're smart enough to not let that happen." Bela states. "This settles everything, I think."

"Not everything." Cassandra retorts, a shadow around her eyes.

"Cassandra, drop it. You heard what mother said." The blonde's tone grows harsh.

"What did she say, other than what we already knew?" comes the sharp bite back. "Why is she so vague every time one of us asks how we came to be?"

"I'm sure she has a good reason. What does it even matter about before?"

"Because I'm sick of having nightmares about people I don't remember!" Cassandra slams her hands onto the table. Both you and Daniela flinch back a bit.

You could have already guessed Alcina is not their biological mother. But a lot of puzzle pieces fall into place before your eyes now. And this new picture you're starting to see of the Dimitrescu family isn't a pretty one at all.

The tension between the two siblings is enough to electrify the air around the table.

"Did you ever consider it's probably for the best that you never do remember them?" Bela asks, her irritation ice-cold as opposed to Cassandra's sizzling fire. "Maybe there's a reason nightmares are all that's left."

You can see your lover's jaw clench. Cassandra's fingers curl into white-knuckled fists as she sits back down. "Don't you get these flashes? These almost-memories?"

"No." Bela says as she stands to leave. "I don't get them. And even if I did, I don't much care for leftovers."

"Daniela?" Cassandra asks, turning to her younger sister.

"I uh... I gotta go do a... thing. Bye now!" The redhead disperses into a swarm right there, before any more can be said.

Cassandra huffs in an exasperated, 'of course' manner. Only the two of you are left in the gigantic room, but you're not sure if you should speak up. You're not exactly confident in your ability to comfort others, nor can you tell where she and you currently stand. It doesn't look like either of you has the energy for any type of loaded talk.

You need each other, that much is as certain as the sun’s rise and fall.

And that's enough, for now.

Within the next few days, Cassandra and you take your time gravitating back together.

You let the thought of her ripping you in half slowly bleed away and she probably does the same with the notion of you using her weakness against her.

It starts with little touches, on your shoulder or your hand, as you make plans to spend a night or two in your house at the village once the temperature allows it.

Then one evening she comes to your room complaining about Daniela just like the old times and it feels only natural to rub her back like you used to.

Cassandra leans into you like a purring cat.

"Oh, you're so warm..." she sighs, resting her head atop your shoulder.

Absent-mindedly, you bring your travelling fingers up to her nape, pressing at a tiny knot of tension there with your thumb. A little moan slips past her lips –you're aware of just how close to touching your neck they are– and it hits you straight in the gut. You've missed drawing these sounds out of her.

Cassandra shifts against you and every minuscule brush of her lithe form on yours brings sparks to life. Her finger reaches under your chin to tip it her way.

"If you want us to stop here I need to leave now." she speaks with that impatience in the edges of her voice you recognize well.

"What happens if you stay?" you ask. It's not just your body warming at the thought of keeping her close.

"Don't tempt me, Alexia." Her lower lip just barely traces yours as she says it. "I'm not good at resisting and you know it."

You know it. Maybe that's why you tempt her with another almost-kiss in the first place. You could never deny how badly you wanted her and that certainly hasn't changed.

Cassandra crashes your mouths together hungrily, like she's been left without it for too long and now she can't go another second without having you. Her leg crosses over yours to lift herself into straddling you, two strong thighs bracketing your hips tight.

She's trying, you can tell, to not tear both your clothes off and have what she craves hard and fast and right there.

You keep a smirk to yourself when you slip your tongue into her mouth and unhook the buttons of her outfit extra slow. Her nails press into your shoulders. You refuse to speed up.

"Can you go any faster?" she breathily pants once you trail your lips to her neck.

"I can." you say. And lightly bite her.

She's one step away from ripping your shirt off, you can tell from how her fingers curl on the fabric. So you make the smarter choice and distract her with another little bite where you know she likes it best, just underneath her ear, then guide her clothes off of her.

Cassandra pushes you back into the mattress and kisses you again while her cool hands make short work of your clothes. You let her grind her hips into you for some measure of relief as you continue to suck and nibble on her flushed, sensitive skin. Her hands find purchase on your sheets when she no longer trusts her control to have them on you.

"Will you touch me already?" she growls into your ear. You can feel how badly she needs it from the way she shakes on every caress near her center, but this is your payback for that sickle throw.

"I am." you give her a smirk, then lightly push a fingertip into tight, wet heat to cut off her response.

"Ah. I— fuck Alexia!" You've never heard her curse before. And you can't figure out why it's so sinfully hot. “Oh, yes, darling, there!”

As much as she deserves to be tormented for the fright she gave you, you can hardly contain your own lust when she's moving on top of you like this, calling you ‘darling’ and hers.

Both of you come undone not long after, gripping at each other, her soft cries of pleasure filling the room until she lowers her head over your heart, completely spent.

Your fingers gently comb through her wavy hair. For quite some time, Cassandra looks so relaxed you think she has fallen asleep on you.

Until she lifts her head up and nuzzles your jawline, in a way she probably knows kills you every time she does it. Her teeth trap your earlobe. That spells trouble even before she speaks up:

"You didn't think one round would do it, did you? After all, I have yet to pay you back for sneaking into my room and stealing my key, darling…"

Well.

It turns out you won a battle and started a war that lasts throughout the night. And it's only the first, you're sure, of many to come.

For once in your life, you can't wait for what's next.

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x oc #lady dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #fanfiction #writing #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #thank you for all the support it has been crazy

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pingutats · 3 years ago

Text

my dearest darling

in which you and harry spend a sunday morning having coffee & cake, and spontaneously decide to go engagement ring shopping together.

warnings: a little suggestive at the end. mostly just pure fluff!

word count: 3.4k

. . . . .

The little alleyway off the main street filled with café tables is a perfect place for you and Harry to sit unseen. In fact, in this little alcove, it’s easy to watch the world pass by the two of you. It’s a nice reprieve from the usual of the world watching Harry.

He’s wearing sunglasses anyway, just in case—despite the overcast weather.

You frown at him, resting your elbows on the table and lacing your fingers together to rest your chin on. “I really think that makes you more conspicuous.”

He scrunches up his nose. “Nah. Or at least, if people notice, they’re going to notice an odd bloke in sunnies, not me.”

“They’ll notice it’s you.”

He glances at the busy footpath. “‘S working so far, love.”

A young waitress rounds the corner from the cafe’s front entrance and sets your coffees down on the table. You move your elbows off the table politely to give her space.

“Thanks,” Harry says, reaching for his black coffee.

You smile at the waitress as you wrap your hands around the latte you ordered, warming up your freezing fingers. You notice the way she hesitates before she leaves, how she looks at Harry like she wants to say something before before quickly spinning on her heels and walking away. When she’s out of earshot, you look at Harry. “She knows.”

He shrugs. “That’s different.”

The waitress reappears a minute later with the little cakes you ordered. This time, she’s braver. “I’m so sorry—are you Harry Styles?” she asks, saying his name in a voice that’s akin to a reverent whisper.

His eyes dart to you for a split second and he raises his eyebrow enough that only you’ll notice, conceding to you, then smiles at her. “Yeah, I am. Sorry, what’s your name?”

You watch him navigate the encounter easily, like you’ve watched so many times. The girl asks for a photo and he politely declines, explaining that he doesn’t want to draw attention, but offers to sign a napkin for her instead. He a short message (nice to meet you, all my love) to her and draws a couple hearts after he signs his name, then passes it to her with a sweetly genuine thanks her for her support.

“Oh my gosh, no, thank you,” she says earnestly. “It was so, so nice to meet you.” She glances at you, then, and her cheeks go even pinker. “Thanks,” she says again, and then she’s gone.

You let a giggle free at the awkward way his fans treat you, like they don’t know if it’s appropriate to talk to you as well, and how they struggle to find something to say to you anyway. Once it might have bothered you. It’s just amusing to you now. You raise your brows at Harry. “All your love?” you tease, quoting the message he wrote on the napkin. “Where’s my share?”

He pouts from behind his sunglasses. “Don’t be like that.”

You kick his shin gently underneath the table. “I’m kidding around. She was sweet. I like watching you do that, you’re so good at it.”

His foot swings around to trap your ankle between his. “Trying to play footsie at eleven o’clock on a Sunday morning? You little minx.”

You roll your eyes and wrench your foot free, rattling the table as you do so. He laughs—a sharp barking ha! that makes you smile through your embarrassment at causing a small commotion.

“Who’s conspicuous, sorry?” he asks.

You shake your head at him and stab your fork into your apple and cinnamon muffin. He keeps giggling as he slides his own plate with the carrot cake to his side of the table and picks up a fork himself.

“Mm, that’s good,” he says after he swallows his first bite. “Better than the one I make.”

“Well, baking isn’t known to be one of your talents.”

He claps a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.” He leans over the table and skewers a piece of your muffin on his fork, dodging your attempts to swat his hand away with great agility. He pops it in his mouth triumphantly, cocking his head like he’s challenging you.

In return, you steal a piece of his cake.

“That was a much larger piece than what I took,” he accuses.

You shrug.

His phone, face down on the table, dings. He glances up at you.

“Check it,” you tell him. You know he only has alerts on for his closest friends—otherwise his phone would be ringing all day long. “I don’t mind.”

He bites his lip apologetically and flips the phone over, reading it. “Oh, it’s Tom. Hang on a sec.” He starts typing back.

You crane your neck around to read the message—something about Tom being free at the end of July, and Harry is giving a thumbs-up to that.

“Where are you off to?” you ask.

“France, maybe,” he replies. You’re aware that discovering this kind of information so suddenly would be jarring for most couples, enough to even incite a fight—but you and Harry aren’t exactly a normal couple, and international trips are just part and parcel of your relationship. Hell, he goes on world tours for months at a time. You’re lucky, you suppose, that you function just as well long-distance as you do when you’re living together.

“Lads’ trip?”

He sends the message and clicks his phone off, leaning back in his chair. “Nah. Taking you to Paris and getting down on m’knee in front of the Eiffel Tower,” he says, nodding sagely.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, Tom’s there to get the photos.” He shovels a forkful of the cake into his mouth and then points his fork in the general direction of a street busker playing a violin across the road. He swallows. “And I’m getting that guy to play a little tune, for the atmosphere,” he adds.

You raise your brows. “Oh, you’ve got budget for this, then.”

He smiles. “Nothing but the best for my dearest darling.”

You snort.

He carefully cuts a piece of cake with the edge of his fork. “Nah, we’re thinking of doing a trip down to his friend’s studio in—somewhere in France, I can’t remember really. Friends and family welcome too, if you want to come. Apparently it’s a real nice place.” He eats his mouthful and then lifts his sunnies to look at you with clear eyes. “We are getting married, though. I mean that.”

Your cheeks threaten to burst from how badly you want to smile, but you force yourself to assume a serious face, just to humour him. “Of course we are.”

Despite the butterflies it inspires, this conversation isn’t new. You’ve been with Harry a couple of years now and you both know you’re on the same page when it comes to your shared future. There are no hard plans, but the direction is set. You’re getting there someday.

He puffs his cheeks out. “I feel like you aren’t taking this as seriously as I am.”

You sigh melodramatically. “Well, sweetheart, I haven’t seen a ring yet.”

“A ring? You should have asked,” he drawls, then suddenly sits up straight and points a finger at you. “Don’t take that as a challenge. I want to be the one to ask.”

You shrug. “Can’t make any promises.”

His arm shoots forward to grab at your hand and you almost laugh out loud at the puppy-eyes he’s making at you. “No, please, baby, I swear you can do everything else, but let me do the proposing bit.”

In your heart, you’re happy he’s so insistent, because this is exactly how you want it to be too. In your mind, though, you really enjoy tormenting him.

“I’ll think about it,” you concede, and he groans.

“I’m buying a ring soon as I can, just to lock it in,” he tells you as he destroys what’s left of his carrot cake.

Once you’ve finished and Harry’s gone up to pay for the coffee and cake (he also took a moment to lean over the counter to snap a group selfie with the waitress who served you earlier and a couple others too) you walk back up the street in the general direction of your car that’s parked a few blocks down. The weather is pleasant today and the sun is even peeking out from behind the clouds now, justifying his sunglasses.

Your mind starts to drift (his arm wrapped loosely around your waist anchors you to the real world) as you think about how nice it is to be with Harry, how you’ve learned to appreciate each physical moment you have with him because they are so precious. After the tours, the promotional trips, the film sets, and all the little things in between, you understand how to be with Harry. You know not everyone can handle a life like this, and you’re sure that if it wasn’t Harry whose return you awaited, you wouldn’t be able to either. But he always returns.

Harry comes to a sudden halt in front of a shop window, gazing in. You’re nearly yanked off your feet as you keep trying to walk with your arm around him—he’s so steady that he doesn’t budge. You stand next to him and look into what you realise is a jewellery store.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“Huh?”

He looks down, his arm squeezing around your shoulder. “Said I’d get you a ring, didn’t I?”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “What, today?”

“‘M not asking. Just preparing.”

You raise your eyebrows up at him. “That is… that is really a technicality.”

“Humour me,” he says. “C’mon.” He shepherds you into the store, steering you by your shoulders.

It’s small and pretty in here, the air from the fans cool against your sun-warmed skin. There are hardly any other customers at the moment, so you have some kind of valuable privacy. There are a couple of glass counters that run along either side of the store with meticulously placed themed displays inside them. You gravitate immediately to the closest thing, a cluster of rough amethysts hanging from necklaces.

“Aren’t these so cute?” you comment to Harry.

His arms wrap around you from behind and you reach up to grasp onto his crossed forearms resting against your chest. “Oh, yeah, they are.”

You stay there looking at the necklaces for a little too long—it’s not like you’re really that fascinated by the jewels, but more that you’re just enjoying Harry’s head leaning over your shoulder and his chest pressed to your back as you stand there. When your gaze meanders along the counter and you see something new, though, you shake free of his grip and follow your whims.

This store isn’t labelled out front with a massive brand. You’re pretty sure it’s an independent jeweller, judging by the neat description cards that accompany each small collection, explaining the theme in a lively and personal manner. This is what makes you really fall in love with the place and feel sure that this is where you’ll find the perfect ring. You know Harry could afford any ring from any famous brand, the heaviest jewels imaginable, easily worthy of a feature article in Vogue magazine. He could probably organise to have a diamond dug up fresh specifically to go on your finger.

It’s the fact that Harry could give you anything in the world that makes you not want it at all. Special, to the two of you, isn’t something that you’ll find in wealth or the crowds that adore him.

It’s found in a day like this.

“Oh, my god, H, look at this one,” you gasp, grabbing his wrist and pulling him over.

He bends over the counter, his gaze following the line of your pointing finger. “Oh, that is pretty,” he says.

It’s a simple gold band with a small, neatly carved diamond fixed to it. It isn’t flashy at all, which is what drew you to it. You knew he’d like it too. Despite the decadence of his performances, he can be a different man behind closed doors and you love that part of him. The secret part, the one that only you know so well.

“I’m in love with it,” you tell him.

Harry nods. “Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

You never doubted that he would agree, but his assent sends a bolt of excitement up your spine. It’s all so real, suddenly, and you can’t wait to see him on his knee for you, to see that ring on your finger. You know your ring size off by heart (how could you not, being in a relationship with the jewellery connoisseur that Harry is), so there’ll be no need for you to try it on today. You’re left with only the raw anticipation of the day he’ll slide it onto your finger.

His hands come down to rest on your hips as you both stare at the ring. You imagine you can hear his heart, knowing that it’ll be beating erratically because his excitement must match yours—you know how he feels about the idea of marriage.

He spins you around to face him, leaving his hands on your hips. He looks at you very seriously. His sunglasses are resting on top of his head now, pushing back his curls and revealing his green eyes and furrowed brow to you.

“You know, if we’re seen buying an engagement ring…” he begins, trailing off. He shrugs. “Just want to think about that.”

You screw up your nose. “According to some magazines we got married last week, and also six months ago. Just being in here is probably going to spark something.” You glance behind you, as if you’ll see journalists scribbling away on their theories, then flatten your palms against his chest, smoothing out his shirt. “I’m happy to ignore it. I want to just do our thing, H.”

He nods, pursing his lips, and gradually the crease in his forehead disappears. “Okay. Good.” Twin smiles spread over your faces and you have the feeling of being two giddy kids, high-schoolers about to have their first kiss. Something new, unknown, exciting, that the two of you are going into together. His eyes are practically sparkling at you. If this was a cartoon, you think his pupils would be shaped like hearts right now. Something is starting to bud and you can feel it growing up inside you and between you, preparing to bloom.

“Alright,” you say, breaking the insulating silence to draw you both back to the real world.

He blinks a couple of times as if he’s just waking up. “Alright,�� he echoes. “Let’s get it.”

He waves over a man drifting through the store in a neat suit and points at the ring. “Excuse me, can we please have a look at this one?”

The two of you watch the man unlock the cabinet and slide the plate of rings out, placing it on the counter. He picks up the one Harry pointed out. “It’s a lovely one, sir.”

“It is,” Harry says. His hand finds yours and squeezes your fingers. “What size is it?”

The man checks the price and tells you, and your mouth drops open. Surely there is something supernaturally perfect going on, because it’s exactly your size. You and Harry look at each other incredulously.

The man seems to notice your unspoken conversation, because he helpfully adds, “We can resize it if you need.”

Harry chuckles. “No, it’s perfect. I think…” he trails off, looking at you. “What do you think?”

You nod at him, grinning. You rub your thumb over the back of his palm as he tells the man, “Thank you. We’d like this one, please.”

You stand slightly behind him as he pays for it, flexing your hands and wringing them in front of you. You know it’s all in your head, but your left ring finger is tingling as if it senses that it’s missing a piece. You really just want to wear the ring at this minute, but when the man selling it to you offers, Harry shakes his head quickly.

“I’ll hold onto it for now,” he says. He accepts the little box from the man and slips it into his pocket. “Thank you so much.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, sir. Enjoy it, and congratulations to the two of you.”

Harry snakes his arm around your waist as you walk back out to the street. His hips knock against you as he squeezes you into his side, and you can feel the little box in his pocket. You can’t help the grin that takes over your whole face. You worry you look like an idiot, smiling so widely at nothing, but when you glance up at Harry, he looks exactly the same.

Your car is parked down a quieter road and you get to relax a little once you’re away from the crowds of the main shopping strip. You can walk a little more slowly and Harry loosens up a bit. His hyper-vigilance starts to strip away. You can see the tension in his shoulders dissolving and here’s your Harry, emerging from his defensive layers. Most people wouldn’t notice this change, but you do. You feel how he adjusts the grip of his hand on your hip, how he leans into you a little more as you walk. In your closeness, you can smell his cologne and you think of how you watched him spray it on this morning—and how you’re going to be watching him do that for the rest of your lives.

He glances over his shoulder and you copy him. The narrow street behind you is empty, but you don’t get a moment to really register this before you feel his arms tighten around your waist and you’re swept off your feet for a second as he crashes his lips into yours.

You close your eyes, letting the kiss envelop all your senses. The sweetness of the cake’s icing lingering on his lips; his arms locked around your waist, holding you up; the rapid beating of your heart. He pulls away slowly and your eyes flutter open. His face is just inches from yours and he’s looking at you with such intensity you feel naked. Not for the first time, you’re in awe of how impossibly green his eyes are; you could make a palette from every forest in the world, and it wouldn’t hold a candle to what you see in front of you right now.

“Y/N,” he says. He cracks a grin. “I’m so fucking happy.”

Your reply is simply to grab him by the back of his neck and pull him in for another kiss. Your hand tangles in his hair and you feel his tongue running along your bottom lip before he pulls away again quickly.

“Fuck,” he says, sounding lost for breath. “Need to stop before I make a fool of m’self in public.” He even physically takes a step back from you, his eyes comically wide.

You giggle. Your gaze travels down his body and you notice the indent of the box in his pocket. “Is that a ring in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

He shakes his head at you. “You’ve gone all giddy. ‘M getting you home right now and then we’re celebrating properly.” He turns around and starts walking towards the car, his long legs carrying him faster than you can keep up.

Your stomach flutters imagining what his idea of celebrating might be. Suddenly, the only thing on your mind is getting back to your house as soon as humanly possible. You run after Harry, skipping around in front of him and jogging backwards as you waggle your fingers in his face. “So, when are you going to pop the question?” you ask.

“Oh, honey,” he says, patting his pocket with the ring. He grins. “It’s going to be when you least expect it, I’ll promise you that.”

. . . . .

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed—if you did, a reblog or a message is really encouraging and lovely for me to see!! the title is taken from the song by etta james.

this fic is the first part of a series called “here we are in heaven,” and i’m really really excited about it. you can read my earlier fic, at last!, if you want to see where this will end up, but there will be more parts to fill the in-between. plus blurbs and stuff! let’s chat about it!

my masterlist can be found here. have a beautiful day!

#harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #fiance harry #fic #here we are in heaven

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redorich · 4 years ago

Note

For the canyon au, what would happen if one of the hermits got hurt during a scout? Like, if etho is out scouting, something happens, and he’s unable to message the hermits or get help. Would he be willing to be seen? Would any smpers besides Puffy help him?

Zedaph didn't mean to leave the canyon, honest! He was just looking for a sheep of his own for a completely ethical experiment involving pistons and a perfectly reasonable quantity of peanut butter, thank you very much. He wasn’t about to steal a sheep from someone else’s farm, and for some reason sheep don’t tend to spawn at bedrock level. So really, he had no choice!

Zedaph is rethinking a lot of his decisions. He’s also wondering if he left the jump-powered stove on. Then he remembers that it’s jump-powered, and as he is not currently jumping on it, it is most likely unpowered. Unfortunately, it seems as though Zedaph is going to be eating a lot of cold food for a while if he makes it out of this alive, because he’s not going to be jumping on anything with a broken leg.

Despite his punishment for trying to take a cross-section of something that he now knows is probably sentient (oops), he can’t help but want to go back, to learn more. What is the rate of growth of those red vines? Are they all from the same plant? Are they actually sentient, or is the crimson kudzu in possession of an automatic response to attempted harm? Did the vine know it was hitting him off a ledge which would break his leg, or did it just know “whack human away from vine”? Would the vines taste good in soup? Are they flammable? Could Zedaph theoretically knit a fashionable sweater out of them, and if so would the sweater be capable of independent movement?

He is torn from his musings of a wriggly evil sweater by another thrum of pain. He hisses. There’s... more blood than is advisable. Outside of his leg, that is. Inside his leg is likely less than the advisable amount of blood, and come to think of it, his head’s probably a bit empty as well, seeing as how he’s having so much trouble thinking straight-- well, straight for him. His jumps in logic are incomprehensible to most on a good day, but right now even he can’t follow his own thought process. What was he thinking about again?

Ah yes. The overwhelming pain from being yeeted off a ledge. Come to think of it, the ledge he fell off-- the one he’s sitting leaned against-- is shaped awfully unusually. It must be manmade. Whoever made this is not a good terraformer. Zedaph should bake Scar some cookies. Is Scar allergic to peanuts? Ow. Ow. Ow. Zedaph will need to borrow Impulse’s oven-- or he could set up his own oven with an armor stand that jumps for him?

“Hey there, who are you?” says a female voice. Zedaph looks up. He doesn’t have to look very far up.

Standing in front of him is a woman with a cool pirate-looking coat (red, of course; all self-respecting pirates wear red), with long fluffy hair like white wool and rainbow fringe! Oh, and she’s, like, half sheep or something. That’s cool too.

Wait. There’s something about sheep he’s forgetting... How could he have been so stupid?! He came to the surface in the first place in search of a sheep, and now he’s (kind of) found one!

The cool pirate lady says something, but Zedaph-- well, he does hear it, but it doesn’t process. Words are just mouth-sounds. He is in pain.

“Found a sheep,” he mumbles, “Come back to the canyon?”

“You’re hurt, man,” the sheep-pirate-lady says. She has pretty rainbow hair, and the white parts look like clouds.

She laughs. “Thanks.”

Clearly, this woman is a mind-reader! As well as a sheep. Really, two for the price of one. Zedaph isn’t quite sure what to do with a mind-reader, but his head will be much clearer and therefore able to dream up wacky hypotheses once he respawns--

He gasps, jerking forward and choking on his own breath when he remembers the cold truth. Xisuma won’t be able to respawn him, not for several days. Zedaph doesn’t want to spend that long in the void.

“Woah!” the woman exclaims, rushing to steady him. “You look pretty bad, dude. Let’s get you home or something. Where do you live?”

“Canyon,” Zedaph rasps. “I’m not supposed to tell you that, I don’t think. Can’t remember why.”

The nice woman goes very still. “Hey. My name’s Puffy. I’m gonna take you to the canyon. Do you think you can stand if I help you?”

“Puffy..?” Zedaph squints off into the middle distance, trying to remember something. “She’s the person who keeps coming back to that barrel, isn’t she?”

Puffy pulls Zedaph’s arm over her shoulder and gently pulls him up to his feet. “She is,” Puffy says softly.

“I hope she liked the enchanted diamond shears,” he mumbles.

“She did,” Puffy says softly. “She didn’t even know diamond shears were a thing.”

“I was going to make an emerald flint and steel,” Zedaph rambles, “but it turns out that items made of flint and steel aren’t conducive to being made of not-flint and not-steel."

"Who would have thought?" Puffy laughs, then trips over a vine. Zedaph makes a pained noise at the jostle to his leg, which is dragging a bit on the ground because Puffy is so much shorter than him. She notices this, and rethinks her strategy.

"At this rate, we'll never get back to the canyon," she gripes. "Climb on my back instead, I'll carry you."

Zedaph obliges, but warns, "Tango says I'm heavy.”

“I’m stronger than Tango, I’ll bet.”

The Hermit is actually a bit heavy, but this is a matter of pride now. And also, quite possibly a matter of urgency. The Hermit isn’t responding anymore. He’s still holding on, so he isn’t dead or completely unconscious; still, he’s not in a good state.

As soon as the elevator down to the bottom of the canyon comes into view, Puffy books it. Surely, in the canyon base, the Hermit will have healing potions? He (They? Multiple Hermits?) gave her a whole beacon, so obviously he/they are late-game enough to have plenty of potions.

Stepping into the elevator, Puffy presses the button, then puts her hand on the Hermit’s neck. It’s a bit of an awkward position, since his chin is hanging over her shoulder, but it makes her feel better to have a hand on his pulse. He makes a pitiful noise as the elevator descends.

“Easy there,” Puffy says, “you’re almost home.”

The moment the doors open, she ventures out into the village. The only safe place she knows is the barrel where she leaves her items for the Hermit(s), so she takes him there. Now that she’s looking, she spots shadows, eyes, movements, throughout the supposedly empty village. One such person comes out of the woodwork, sprinting.

“Zedaph!” exclaims a tall, musclebound man. His face is twisted in naked worry as he meets Puffy at the barrel, which she sets Zedaph down on.

The large man, who wears a black shirt with a creeper face on it (does that mean something, Puffy wonders?) scrutinizes the blond man on the barrel for a moment before springing into action, splashing potions and bits of lapis and-- holy shit, is that a Totem of Undying?! When the blond man, Zedaph, seems to come back to himself enough that he could reasonably eat a golden carrot with minimal choking hazard, the new man hands him one. Finally, he turns to Puffy.

“Thank you,” he says. The relief in his voice is tangible.

Puffy shifts awkwardly. “I was just doing the right thing. I noticed, uh, his bracelet.”

They both look to Zedaph’s wrist. It’s got a woven bracelet on it. The textile isn’t astounding, but the pattern on it is intricate. Puffy would know, she made it herself as a gift for the Hermit. As Puffy and the other Hermit look at each other, she realizes that he is also wearing something she made: a pair of fingerless gloves which are now stained with redstone dust.

He catches her staring. “We all have one-- oh, uh, my name’s Impulse, and this is Zedaph--”

“Impulse,” a new blond man hisses from behind the two. Puffy jumps. She didn’t hear him coming.

“Tango!” Impulse greets, suddenly nervous. Why a man as big as Impulse would be nervous when facing anyone, let alone a normal-looking guy like Tango, is beyond Puffy. Maybe Tango’s red eyes have some sort of significance?

“Impulse,” Tango repeats, looking around for anyone that isn’t a Hermit. “You’re not invisible.”

Impulse’s eyebrows draw together in a frown. “I had to see Zedaph.”

“Yeahhh,” Zedaph slurs.

“Besides, if we can trust any of the natives, it’s Puffy,” Impulse insists. He crosses his arms in what should be an intimidating display, but truthfully looks more like a pout.

“You know what Xisuma said,” Tango says. “I’m grateful to have Zedaph back, but...”

“Xisuma would agree with me,” Impulse says stubbornly.

Tango sighs explosively, full of nerves. “Alright, fine, can we at least get out of sight? Anyone could come wandering across the surface and spot us.”

“How many of you are there?” Puffy breathes. Everyone’s eyes snap to her.

“Twenty-four,” Zedaph says happily.

“Zedaph!” Tango admonishes.

Rolling his eyes, Impulse scoops Zedaph up off the barrel like he weighs nothing. He carries the dazed blond man down the path and into a cottage-style house. As Tango goes to follow, he catches Puffy’s eye.

“Sorry,” he says, “nothing personal. Just trying to avoid being explodificated, which means not being seen by the people who live on this server. You get it, yeah?”

He jogs off to catch up with Impulse, and Puffy hurriedly follows. Tango’s got a bracelet like Zedaph’s, but it’s one of the ones Puffy made out of different shades of red. She wonders if all the Hermits wear something she made.

The inside of the house is a bit cramped, but it’ll do. It’s got a bed, at least, so Zedaph’s got somewhere to keep his leg off the ground. This all feels surreal.

“So, uh...” Puffy says into the stuffy silence of the room. “How about that, uh, bedrock?”

Nobody has anything to say to that. Fuck.

Out of nowhere, yet another Hermit shows up. There’s a trapdoor in the wall that, now that she looks at it, Puffy realizes that Tango was hiding intentionally. That’s all gone to shit, though, because a man with white hair and a mask over his face peeks his head out from the hole in the wall.

“Hey guys, what--” The man takes a look around, spots Puffy, and freezes. “...On second thought, I’ll come back later.”

“Wait!” Impulse says to the man. “Get Xisuma, or at least tell him Puffy’s here if he can’t make the trip right now.”

“Karl thinks you’re Mothman,” Puffy blurts out to the white-haired man.

The man looks very self-satisfied for someone who’s only showing a quarter of his face. “Oh? Where does he live? For absolutely no reason, of course.”

“Etho...” Tango groans.

“Oh, alright, I’ll go get X.”

The man leaves. Oh boy, thinks Puffy, this is going to be interesting.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #captain puffy #zedaph #zedaphplays #impulsesv #tango tek #xisuma #xisumavoid #ethoslab #me.cpp #me.txt

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babanillustration · 3 years ago

Note

I would LOVE to know more about your WM and SR

Ooo yeah! I'll just dump a bunch of scribbles I haven't posted before. They're WVPM and ARSS ship babies that squabble like siblings. They tie in a lot to @chericawrestledabear 's Trolls and kids also.

- Prince(ss) of Void - Likes to collect people's secrets, then weaponises them. You probably won't have an issue with her unless you piss her off. - Ruined many a nice piece of furniture as a baby. She was one you needed oven mitts to handle. - Very stereotypical bitchy preppy kid, has way too many sparkly charms on her phone that she is on constantly. - Dark navy blue and pink colour scheme. Basically the classic Jack Willis stripes colour scheme. acid green/yellow too,later in GT design. - Likes to steal auntie Roxy's clothes because of this. Not that they usually fit very well. - Thinks that Terezi is hugely embarrassing but envies how clever she is. - Sisterly to WM, in a normal way but also an 'only i'm allowed to bully him' sort of way. - Her dads insist she learns to use weaponry but she thinks it's below her. She probably already knows enough to blackmail you with if necessary. It's pretty embarrassing if you handle things so badly you have to resort to weaponry, right? _ That said, she is not above trying to intimidate anyone with the family dog. - Taller than both AR and Slick.

WM - Heir of Life - His personality is so chill that others tend to go to him for answers and direction, which he has very little interest in providing. - He just does what he does without too much concern for what other people think. His animals are more important to him. - He likes animals! Keeps frogs and has a cat. Wants to have lots of animals. - Fairly quiet and reserved, just wants to go run about in the woods. WV tries to get him to help in the communal veggie patch, but he's usually too busy petting the animals in the neighboring field. - Likes to hang around with John and Jade since they're his adoptive siblings. - Likes to act annoyed by SR's bullying but he appreciates the protection. He's never had any bullying problem that wasn't resolved immediately. - Just dresses in work clothes, doesn't take kindly to having to dress nicely. The best he can do is a hoodie and a waistcoat. Also hates trousers, they get muddy and caught on vegetation way too much for his liking. - He's medium marbled (small patch on his leg, one on the side of his head, and across his tummy. - Wears that orange hat because it looks like a pumpkin. - Shorter and skinnier than SR. He's in between WV and PM's height.

There's also a HBMP ship baby called HP (Hefty Plumpkin)

I have some janky sprites of them that I was experimenting with too. Mixing the style of carapacians and kids/trolls is difficult. Also Plumpkin needs more work lol.

You can find more stuff on them by looking at the tags on here, I have drawn them a few times before! I should probably draw more daft stuff with them but they're not very relevant atm.

#wm #sr #homestuck #carapacians #ocs

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sineala · 3 years ago

Text

Tony Stark and Arthuriana

Coming to you by special request, a very long post about 616 Tony's interest in Arthuriana, with a focus on all of Tony's run-ins with Morgan le Fay!

I feel like I should disclaim the extent of my knowledge here, which is that I still haven't managed to read anywhere near every issue of Iron Man -- at least, not yet, anyway -- so I'm just going by the things I know I've read, and Morgan le Fay's Marvel wiki entry is frustratingly under-cited, so it's very possible I've missed something relevant, but I'm pretty sure I've got the big stuff down. My other disclaimer here is that I'm not as big an Arthurian nerd as Tony is, which is to say that most of my familiarity comes from modern retellings -- T. H. White's The Once and Future King, Marion Zimmer Bradley's The Mists of Avalon, Mary Stewart's The Crystal Cave, Rosemary Sutcliff's Sword at Sunset -- and not so much the usual classic sources on the Matter of Britain, though I've read bits and pieces of them.

(This is because I wanted to read versions of them that were as close to the original as possible but so far have not ended up finishing any of them because, well, that's hard. So I've never read the Mabinogion because I do not know Welsh. I've got the Norton Critical Edition of Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, which is probably the best student edition if you're looking for something without modernized spellings, as I was. I've also got -- well, okay, it's my wife's but I'm borrowing it -- a relatively recent Boydell & Brewer edition (ed. Reeve, tr. Wright) of Geoffrey of Monmouth's Historia Regum Britanniae (History of the Kings of Britain), which is, you guessed it, in Latin with a facing English translation. I haven't gotten very far in it because, in case you didn't know this about Latin texts, the beginning is pretty much always the hardest, so I gave up and read some Plautus adaptations instead. Anyway, if for some reason you too want to read Geoffrey of Monmouth in the original Latin I'd recommend that one, but I can't recommend any particular English translations because I've never read one by itself. I bet you didn't think you'd be getting Latin prose recommendations in this post. I mean, maybe you did; it is me, after all.)

Okay. Right. King Arthur. Here we go.

We've got:

Flashbacks to Tony's childhood in late Iron Man volume 1

A brief discussion of Morgan's origin story and Avengers #187

Iron Man vol 1 #149-150: Doomquest

What If vol 1 #33: What if Iron Man was trapped in the time of King Arthur?

Iron Man vol 1 #249-250: Recurring Knightmare

Iron Man: Legacy of Doom #1-4

Avengers vol 3 #1-4: The Morgan Conquest

Civil War: The Confession

Mighty Avengers vol 1 #9-11: Time Is On No One's Side

In terms of universe-internal chronology, we know from Iron Man #287, from 1992, that Tony has been a fan of King Arthur since childhood. This is an issue of a fandom-favorite arc which features Tony having a lot of childhood flashbacks, including the famous "Stark men are made of iron" line (in #286) that for some reason MCU fandom decided it loved; I mean, seriously, I've seen that quoted in way more MCU fic than 616 fic. But slightly later, in #287, we get an entire page devoted to Tony's love of King Arthur.

The narration reads: "Over the next few years, I learned as my father intended. Discipline of body. Strength of character. But in what free time I was allowed, I worked my way through the school's library. At thirteen, I discovered Mallory [sic], who showed me a whole new world. A world of dedication to a cause greater than oneself. Of chivalry and honor. And the fantastic deeds -- of armored heroes."

The art shows Tony as a child sitting under a tree, reading a book labeled Mort D'Arthur by Mallory [sic] -- no, don't ask me why nobody at Marvel checked how to spell either the name of the book or its author -- and daydreaming of King Arthur, the Sword in the Stone, knights, et cetera. Just in case you somehow missed the extremely blatant hint that we are meant to understand that Tony's knight obsession heavily influenced him becoming Iron Man as an adult, we see one of his armors mixed in with all the drawings of knights. So, yes, canonically Tony is Iron Man at least partly because he's a giant King Arthur nerd, which I think is so very sweet. I love him. He's such a dork!

(This issue is currently in print in the Iron Man Epic Collection War Machine, should you need your own copy.)

This isn't actually the only reference to Tony as a King Arthur fanboy in this era of canon, either; a little later, in IM #298, we see that one of Tony's passwords is actually "Mallory." (Yeah, no, they still couldn't spell. But it's cute.)

But in terms of actual publication order, this is definitely not the first time we have seen in canon that Tony is into Arthuriana, as I'm sure you all know. I would assume, in fact, that giving Tony a childhood interest in Arthuriana is because Doomquest is one of the most beloved Iron Man story arcs of all time, and that all started at least a decade before IM #287 here was published.

The villain of Doomquest -- the one who isn't Doctor Doom, at least -- is Morgan le Fay. Yes, that Morgan le Fay. Yes, Arthur's evil half-sister Morgan le Fay. Yes, all of this King Arthur stuff is canonically real history on Earth-616. Morgan's first appearance in Marvel, per the wiki, was in Black Knight #1 (1955), which I have not read, and judging by the summary I feel like this is probably just supposed to be a straight-up comic retelling of Arthurian legends for kids; I don't think Marvel really had the whole Marvel Universe in mind as a concept in 1955, so I'm not sure this was meant to connect to anything else. I feel like this is another one of those instances of Marvel discovering that they can write comics about characters in the public domain for free -- like, I'm pretty sure that's how we also ended up with, like, Norse, Greek, and Roman mythology wedged into 616.

As far as I can tell from the wiki, the first time Morgan tangled with the Avengers (or indeed the larger 616 universe) in any way actually predated Doomquest -- it was in an early arc in Spider-Woman (#2-6) and then Avengers #187, which came out in 1979, actually right when Demon in a Bottle was happening over in Iron Man comics. If you read #187, Iron Man is not in it because he's off the team due to his drinking problem and also his accidentally murdering the Carnelian ambassador problem. So Wonder Man's filling in instead. This issue is part of Michelinie's rather sporadic Avengers run, which makes sense, I guess, considering where we see Morgan next.

Anyway, Avengers #187 is the classic issue where Wanda is possessed by Chthon, but what you may not remember from Chthon's backstory (I sure didn't!) is that he was summoned by Morgan le Fay because she was the first person who tried to wield the Darkhold to summon him. As you can imagine, this did not work out especially well for her and her followers and they had to seal Chthon away in Wundagore Mountain, which was where Wanda found him. (The Spider-Woman stuff is only slightly earlier and also appears to be about Morgan and the Darkhold; the Darkhold is not one of the areas of 616 canon I am especially conversant with, alas. It's on my to-read list.)

Doomquest, as you probably know, was a classic Iron Man two-parter in Layton & Michelinie's first Iron Man run that set up Tony and Doom as rivals; Doomquest itself was IM #149-150, in 1981, and then in their second IM run they came back and did a sequel in 1989, Recurring Knightmare (IM #249-250), and then the much later four-part sequel to that was the 2008 miniseries Iron Man: Legacy of Doom, which was also by Layton & Michelinie but generally does not seem to be as popular as the first two parts. They've all been reprinted, if you're looking for copies; I have a Doomquest hardcover that collects the first four issues and then a separate Legacy of Doom hardcover. Currently in the Iron Man Epic Collection line there's a volume called Doom, which confusingly only collects the 249-250 part of the storyline (as well as surrounding issues), because for some reason the first Layton & Michelinie run isn't in Epics yet but the second one is. So the beginning of Doomquest isn't currently in print, as far as I can tell. I'm sure you can find it anyway.

So what's Doomquest about? Okay, so you remember how Doctor Doom's mother's soul is stuck in hell for all eternity? Well, Doom's obviously interested in getting her back, and the strategy he has embarked on is to try to team up with other powerful magicians who can help him out, and he thinks Morgan le Fay would be a good choice, for, uh, his quest. Doom's quest. A Doomquest, if you will. (If you've ever read Doctor Strange & Doctor Doom: Triumph & Torment, you're familiar with the part where he later ends up waylaying Strange for this and they go to hell together. And if you haven't read Triumph & Torment, you really should, because it's amazing.)

So Doom is off to his time machine to go team up with Morgan le Fay and Tony thinks Doom is up to something -- Doom has been stealing components for his time machine from a lot of people, including Tony -- and he follows him and it turns out one of Doom's lackeys has a grudge and wants to trap Doom in the past forever, and Tony gets caught up in it. Now they're both in Camelot. Surprise! #149 is actually all setup; they don't get to Camelot until #150.

IM #150 begins with Doom and Tony thrown back into the past; there's a fandom-famous splash page of them locked in combat, only to realize that they have found themselves in Camelot.

They are then discovered by knights; Doom would very much like to attack them, but Tony, who naturally would be happy to LARP Camelot forever, persuades him to play nice. Also Doom thinks Iron Man is only Tony's bodyguard so he keeps referring to him as "lackey," much to Tony's annoyance. Somehow everyone thinks they're sorcerers. Can't imagine why. The knights take them to meet King Arthur himself, and Tony has clearly had his introduction all ready to go, as he introduces himself in a timeline-appropriate manner, says he's here to apprehend Doom, and demonstrates his "magic" by levitating Arthur's throne. Doom's response is essentially "I'm the king of Latveria," which is, y'know, also valid. So they're guests at Camelot for the night while Arthur figures out what to do with them.

We then have a page devoted to Tony alone in his room, musing sadly about how alien he feels, how he doesn't know if he'll ever get home, how he could never fit in here without his beloved technology. Then a Sexy Lady shows up to keep him company for the night, and he decides maybe it's not all bad. Thanks, Marvel. I guess they can't all be winners.

Doom is using his evening much more productively; he compels one of the servants to tell him where Morgan's castle is, because he's still interested in having that team-up. Then he jets off. Literally. He has a jetpack.

The next morning Arthur's like "one of you is still here and one of you has punched a hole through the castle wall and flown off to join Morgan so I guess I know which of you is more trustworthy." He then explains to Tony who Morgan is, because Tony professes ignorance, because clearly we had not yet retconned in Tony's love of Arthuriana. Tony offers to go fight Doom and Morgan with Arthur; meanwhile, Morgan and Doom have teamed up and Morgan has offered to help get Doom's mother out of hell if he commands her undead armies against Arthur because for Reasons she can't command them herself anymore. So that's a thing that happens.

So, yes, it's Tony and Arthur versus Doom and Morgan. Fight fight fight!

Tony tries Doom first but then decides to hunt Morgan down, and in the ensuing fight we get what I think is Tony's first ever "I hate magic," a complaint that we all know he still makes even to this day.

Anyway, Tony freezes a dragon with Freon (mmm, technology) and Morgan gets upset and disappears, so the battle comes to an end, and of course Doom is extremely mad at Tony because he blames Tony for Morgan not sticking around to save Doom's mom, because I guess Doom trusted her to keep her word? Weird. (Like I said, for the next chapter of Doom saving his mother, go read Triumph & Torment.)

Doom says if he and Tony work together, the components in both of their armors can send them both home. So Tony has to trust Doom. Which he does, because he really has no other choice. They build a time machine and Tony makes Doom agree to a 24-hour truce when they get back, so they can both get home. So it all works out okay, and they end up in the present, and Doom tells him, ominously, that they will meet again. Okay, then. That concludes the original Doomquest. It's fun! You can see why fandom likes it.

So that's all well and good, but you might have noticed that Tony's ability to get home hinged on Doom actually being trustworthy. And Doom was. But what if Doom hadn't been? What if he'd just stranded Tony in Camelot forever As you may have surmised from the form of that question, that is in fact a question Marvel asked themselves, because, yes, there's a What If about this! What If v1 #33 is "What if Iron Man was trapped in the time of King Arthur?"

The divergence point from canon, as you can probably guess, is the very end of Doomquest. Instead of Doom bringing Tony home, he deceives him and leaves him in Camelot. And since Tony cannibalized a lot of the tech from his armor to make the time machine, he doesn't have a way to go home.

This is not a story where Tony comes up with a way to go home after all. He really doesn't get to go home. But instead of drowning his sorrows in mead -- because, remember, Demon in a Bottle has already happened and Tony is sober now -- he decides he might as well just play the hand he's dealt. So with what's left of his armor, he defeats some enemies that Morgan rounds up to send against Camelot. And for his services, he's knighted. He is now Sir Anthony.

Tony acknowledges that he is both living the dream and would also like very, very much to go home.

He does end up having some fun in Camelot; it's not all miserable. But he obviously doesn't want to be there.

So if you're at all familiar with King Arthur, you know how this goes, right? Arthur fights Mordred and Mordred kills him. And that does happen in this version. Except Tony is right there, and with his dying words, Arthur asks Tony to rule Camelot... and Tony agrees.

So, yes, Tony Stark becomes king of the Britons after Arthur's death and he never goes home again. The end. Man, I love What Ifs.

Heading back to main 616 continuity, there is still more of this arc to go. The original Doomquest was only two issues, yes, but it was popular enough that Layton & Michelinie did a sequel a hundred issues later, in their second run of Iron Man, and that's Iron Man #249-250, Recurring Knightmare. (In the intervening issues were Denny O'Neil's IM run, specifically the second drinking arc (#160-200), and then Layton & Michelinie came back and most famously gave us Armor Wars (#225-232). I would have to say that Armor Wars is definitely the standout fandom-favorite arc of their second IM run; for their first one, I think a lot of people would have a hard time choosing between Doomquest and Demon.) But anyway, yes. Recurring Knightmare.

Recurring Knightmare is... well, the best way I can describe it is "a trip." It is definitely a sequel to Doomquest, and it is also definitely not a sequel you would ever have expected to see for Doomquest.

Much like #149, #249 is pretty much just setup. Fun setup, but the big action is in the next issue. We open with Doom in Latveria, on his throne, pondering which of his servants he should have disintegrated. Anyway, he's just hanging out there when a mysterious object appears. In California, Tony is suited up and entertaining the crowd at a mall opening when the same object also appears! He takes it to his lab. Please note that this is after the Kathy Dare incident, so Tony is still recovering and is walking with a cane. Doom sees on the news that Iron Man has found the same object, which cannot be carbon-dated, and he shows up at Tony's house. He criticizes Tony's taste in art.

Anyway, Doom basically orders Tony to work with him. Tony refuses, and then Doom sends some robots to attempt to steal Tony's version of the object because he thinks if he has them both he will be powerful. Doom manages to steal it, and when he puts the pieces together, both he and Tony disappear.

So where do they go, you might ask? Camelot?

Not exactly. The future! There is a great callback to the Doomquest splash page.

It turns out they are in London in 2093. Merlin brought them there. Tony still hates magic. And in the future, King Arthur is still there, except he is now a child, because he has been reborn. But he does remember Tony from Doomquest, at which point Tony kneels. Doom, of course, is not impressed. He asks why they have been brought to the future.

The answer is that things are going wrong in the future. If you do not personally remember United States politics in the 1980s, I need you to google the words "Strategic Defense Initiative" right now. I'll wait.

Back with me? Okay, so this is a future where Reagan's Star Wars program actually happened the way he wanted it to, and the satellites are still hanging around the Earth in the future and messing everything up, and Arthur and Merlin need Tony and Doom's help to stop them. Doom once again flies away with his jetpack, of course.

Tony is game to help, but he's not in an armor that can stay in space for long. This is when Merlin takes him and Arthur to the mall and Tony manages to get everything to upgrade his armor at Radio Shack. You see what I meant about this issue being weird.

Tony is out in space trying to disarm the SDI platform, which is where he runs into his future descendant, Andros Stark, who is in armor you will probably recognize from Iron Man 2020. He is referred to as "the resurrected spawn of Iron Man 2020" so I assume he's actually directly related to Arno rather than a direct descendant of Tony; Wiki confirms that Arno is his grandfather. This is all from way before Arno was contemporaneous with Tony in canon. Anyway, he's fighting Tony.

Oh, by the way, Future Doom exists. Future Doom would like to rule this future Earth and for some reason Andros would like to help him. Meanwhile, Present Doom finds out from Merlin that he can't leave except by magic and he can't leave without Tony, so he is reluctantly on Tony's side.

They need help from the Lady of the Lake, except the lake has been paved over and is now a parking lot. Merlin makes the lake come back and then of course they get Excalibur. Arthur is a kid, so he can't wield a longsword; Doom assumes he's going to take it because he is basically a king, and he's pretty grumpy when the sword picks Tony. Tony then uses Excalibur to destroy the space lasers, and I bet that is a sentence you never thought you would read. It's pretty cool. Tony concludes that magic has its good points. Tony stops Andros and Doom stops, uh, himself, and the world is saved and they get to go home. Also, Doom finds out Tony is Iron Man, but when Merlin sends them back he conveniently erases their memories, so neither of them remember anything about this and Tony's secret is still safe. And that's the sequel to Doomquest.

And if you think that's weird, wait until you see Legacy of Doom.

Iron Man: Legacy of Doom is a four-issue miniseries from 2008, also by Layton and Michelinie. Even though it's from 2008, it's set during a much more classic time in Iron Man, continuing on from where we left off in this Doomquest saga. We start with a framing story in 2008. Tony, who has Extremis now, is busy scrapping some of his older armors and reviewing his logs when he suddenly remembers that there was a whole thing with Doom that happened that he seems to have forgotten about until right now. So the whole thing is narrated by Tony in flashback.

Tony's in space fixing a satellite when a hologram of Doom shows up and summons him to Latveria. It's not really clear why Doom needs Tony's help in particular here, but Doom tells Tony that he's discovered that Mephisto would like to bring about the end of the world, which Doom finds, and I quote, "presumptive." So Doom has his Time Cube, and with it he takes Tony to hell.

(Yes, I promise this is relevant to Doomquest. There will be some Arthuriana shortly.)

Doom brings Tony to Mephisto, and it turns out it's a setup! Doom trades Tony for an item he wants from Mephisto, leaves, and Tony's going to be trapped in hell forever! Oh no! (I mean, he's not. But it's quite a cliffhanger.)

At the beginning of issue #2, we find out what the Arthurian connection is, which is that we learned that after the events of Doomquest, Morgan had been granted sanctuary by Mephisto in exchange for a shard of Excalibur that she had somehow stolen. Doom still wants Morgan's help with some magic -- he doesn't mention what it is here, but he says he needs someone of Pendragon blood, and that'd be her -- so he traded Tony to Mephisto in exchange for, I'm guessing, Morgan and the Excalibur shard.

I have probably mentioned this elsewhere, but Legacy of Doom #2 is one of my favorite issues of Iron Man ever, solely because of the next scene. We return to Tony in hell. Howard Stark is also in hell, and he is now a demon, and Tony has to fight him. Mephisto brings popcorn and watches. This is the one time in canon when Tony actually confronts his father, and okay, yes, it's a fistfight in hell and Howard is a demon, but that's comics for you. Howard spends several pages insulting Tony -- specifically insulting his masculinity, but that's a whole other essay -- until he finally insults Maria too, and that's when Tony fights back, because his mother taught him to be good. Honestly if you're a Tony fan I'd recommend this issue just for that scene.

Anyway, we go back to the Doom and Morgan plot, and Morgan casts the spell Doom wanted, which was fusing the Excalibur shard with Doom's armor. Then Doom sends her back to Camelot rather than hell, because he's still mad that she never helped him get his mom out of hell like she said she would.

Tony freezes Howard with Freon -- yes, the same trick he pulled on the dragon back in Doomquest -- and tells him, "You're no father of mine." It is immensely satisfying.

(I had been going to mention that I thought it was a shame that neither canon nor fandom seems to have really engaged with this confrontation, and I know canon never believes in narrative closure but fandom sure does -- and then, anyway, it occurred to me that since the framing story of Tony remembering this is set when Tony has Extremis, there's a very good chance that he no longer remembers remembering it. Goddammit, Marvel.)

(If I got to retcon one canon thing about Tony, I think "the entirety of World's Most Wanted" is up there. I mean, okay, a lot of things are up there, but WMW is definitely on the shortlist.)

Okay. Tony has now engineered his way out of hell, and he's back with Doom in Latveria. Doom has Excalibur. Doom would very much like to fight him. While wielding Excalibur. You get the sense that this is going to be bad. Another cliffhanger!

Legacy of Doom #3 opens with Tony destroying Doom's lab to buy time and running away from Doom and Excalibur. I should probably mention that Doom still doesn't know Tony is Iron Man (anymore), so he thinks he is dealing only with Iron Man, Tony Stark's lackey. Meanwhile, some scientists at SI think there's something weird going on with space. Meanwhile meanwhile, Tony is in a forest taking a breather when a mysterious old man walks up to him.

It's Merlin! Surprise! Merlin wants Tony's help to stop Doom from doing whatever he's doing with Excalibur. The sword makes you invincible and the scabbard makes you invulnerable, so Merlin sends Tony to Scotland on a fetch quest for the scabbard. Doom has now magically sent the sword in search of the scabbard, so the sword flies away to meet it and Doom follows. Turns out the thing that's wrong with space is a thing that's going to hit Earth at the exact place Tony and Doom are. What a coincidence! So Tony and Doom get trapped in a stone circle and fight some stone warriors and then Tony ends up with the scabbard. And by "ends up with," I mean it fuses to his armor. Next issue!

Legacy of Doom #4 is when things really, really get weird. A giant demon made of eyes (???) appears, and this demon is apparently what Doom had been preparing to fight (because it's mad that Doom stole one of its spellbooks), and now he can't, because the sword and the scabbard aren't together. Thanks, Shellhead.

That's when Merlin shows up and says all is not lost. They can defeat the demon... if they put the sword into the scabbard.

"But I'm the scabbard now!" Tony says, uncomprehending.

"Yes," Merlin says. "You are."

Then Tony gets it.

So, yes, Doom has to, um, penetrate Tony. With Excalibur. I love comics. I love comics so much.

So that's a thing that happens.

And then Tony flies off and, I guess, resolves to never, ever think about any of this again.

We head back to the framing story, in which Tony, now having remembered all of this, flies to Britain, buys the land the lake is on, and paves it over, presumably so it will be there for Merlin to bring back in Iron Man #250. The end.

Whew.

Okay, yeah, I know I didn't have to summarize the whole thing, but Legacy of Doom here really is one of my favorite Iron Man miniseries. And I just want to share the love. Please read it. It's great.

But the Arthuriana fun doesn't end there! In fact, now we get an Arthurian-themed arc that actually isn't in Iron Man comics. It's in Avengers! Iron Man is involved, though.

(There is also apparently a Morgan arc in Avengers #240. I actually haven't read it. It seems to be yet another Spider-Woman arc. I get the impression that this isn't really Arthuriana other than having Morgan in it fighting Jess, though, so it doesn't seem quite as relevant. Morgan also apparently has some appearances in FF, Journey into Mystery, and Marvel Team-Up, but those seem like more of just basic villainy. Also, probably not involving Tony.)

Kurt Busiek's 1998 Avengers run, volume 3, is in large part the kind of Avengers run that is a nostalgic love letter to older comics. Heroes are heroes and villains are villains and good triumphs over evil. The Avengers all live in the mansion and are BFFs. I love it. It does assume that you are already a fan of the Avengers, because it starts out by summoning pretty much everyone who has ever been an Avenger and is available to the mansion, and that is... a lot of people. Thirty-nine, by my count. Also, when the entire team is magically whisked away, we are treated to the following narration, as Steve disappears: "And Captain America's last thought, as the world goes white around him, and he with it -- is that Iron Man would hate this."

The narration doesn't tell you why Iron Man would hate this, or how Captain America would know that Iron Man hates this. This is not explained later on. But if you have read comics -- or if you have read the above summary of Doomquest -- you know that Tony is absolutely, one hundred percent, thinking, "I hate magic." And Steve knows it.

The reference is not relevant to the plot; if you don't get it, you'll be fine. But that's what I mean when I say this is a nostalgia run. There are definitely Easter eggs for people who have read a bunch of comics. Busiek does this a whole lot in his work -- there's a reason you can buy an annotated edition of Marvels -- and, yeah, it happens here too. Just know that there will be references you're not getting, if you're new to comics.

Anyway. So Busiek's run actually starts out with an Arthurian arc, #1-4, "The Morgan Conquest." The name is a dead giveaway. Yes, Morgan le Fay is back. Again. For once, Doom is not involved.

The Avengers are all back from their sojourn on Counter-Earth after fighting Onslaught -- don't worry about it -- and mysterious things are happening. There are a lot of monster attacks. So pretty much everyone who has ever been an Avenger is summoned to the mansion, at which point we learn from Thor about some mystical artifacts that are being stolen. (They are the Norn Stones and also the Twilight Sword. That sounds like something from a Zelda game, doesn't it?) The Avengers go to try to stop this, end up in Tintagel, and then they run into Mordred. He wants to capture Wanda, presumably for Magic Reasons. Morgan le Fay casts a spell on all of them, reshaping reality. Yes, all of them. Surprise!

So now all the Avengers are living in a medieval castle and/or town; Morgan is their queen, and thanks to the power of mind-control they are all basically living in Ye Olden Times. The Avengers are all some variety of knight, except for Wanda, who is chained up in the dungeon so Morgan can steal her magic and use it to fuel all this reality-warping.

Wanda calls for help, and that snaps Steve (Yeoman America!) out of the mind control (or altered reality or whatever you want to call it) pretty fast, because Steve's always been very good at resisting mind control, and then Steve promptly goes and snaps Clint out of it, because I guess Steve is also good at inspiring people to snap out of mind control. "Oh, man!" Clint says. "Not another alternate reality! Not again!" (I assume he's referring to Counter-Earth? Maybe?)

So Steve and Clint go around reassembling the Avengers and orienting them as to reality. They get Jan and Monica easily, but then Steve insists on trying to get Tony because, I guess, he likes Tony and would really like to hang around Tony, who is half-naked and asleep in his bedroom, and certainly I am reading nothing whatsoever into this. Clint tells Steve it's not going to work. Tony has historically been fairly susceptible to mind control; it was only pretty recently at this point that he'd been doing Kang's bidding in The Crossing. But the more serious impediment is that this is Tony Stark and he would obviously like to LARP being a knight forever and ever. Tony, therefore, does not believe Steve, and throws him and Clint out of his bedroom and into the barracks.

"Iron Man's a good guy, normally," Clint says. "But he's waaay too into his whole nobleman/lord of the manor trip. That spell musta hit him right where he lives!"

Clint speaks the truth, clearly.

Anyway, they go around and manage to make pretty much every Avenger in the room other than Tony snap out, and attempt to rebel against Morgan while Tony is stil fighting them because he is Still A Knight. There's a lot of punching, because some of the Avengers still aren't free; they weren't ones Steve found.

The day is saved when Wanda manages to channel Wonder Man and break free. This gives the Avengers a fighting chance against Morgan and the Avengers are all lending Wanda their power when Tony finally snaps out of it and is on the side of good.

Then they take Morgan down, go home, and attempt to figure out which of these thirty-nine people should be on the active Avengers team. Hooray.

But that's not the end of Morgan le Fay showing up to screw around with Tony's life! There's more to come! Not much, but there is one that I know of, and at least one more memorable reference.

(I haven't read all her appearances or anything, but one of them definitely involves Tony; I can't swear that he doesn't appear in any of the other books Morgan shows up in, but it'd be a cameo for him, because I only know of one more arc that she's in in a book that Tony stars in.)

In a few more years, we have now entered the part of Marvel Comics history where Brian Michael Bendis writes all the Avengers books at the same time for, like, seven years running. It was sure A Time. There were a lot of word bubbles.

And the thing about Bendis is, Bendis looooooves Doomquest. If you're familiar with the very end of his tenure at Marvel where he made Doom be Iron Man after Tony got knocked into a coma in Civil War II, you have probably figured out already that he likes Doom. But he also likes Doomquest, specifically.

I mean, if nothing else, the giant splash page in The Confession where Maleev redrew the climactic Doomquest fight while Bendis had Tony talk about how deeply meaningful to his understanding of the world this all was -- and how it allowed him to predict Civil War -- was probably a big clue, right?

As far as I am aware, Morgan le Fay makes exactly one more appearance in Tony's life. And that's in Mighty Avengers vol 1 #9-11. Only one of those issues is named, so I'm going to assume the arc is named after it: Time Is On No One's Side.

You remember Mighty Avengers, right? The deal with the Avengers books at the time was that after Bendis exploded the mansion and made the team disband in Avengers Disassembled, the main Avengers book was no longer called just Avengers. Instead, the main Avengers book was New Avengers, and that was the only Avengers book. Then Civil War happened, Steve got killed, and New Avengers became the book about what was left of the SHRA resistance (i.e., Steve's side) after the war. So about halfway through New Avengers, Mighty Avengers starts up, and Mighty Avengers is about an extremely fucked-up and grief-stricken Tony Stark trying to run the official government-sanctioned Avengers team, with Carol's help. This is the comic with the arc where Tony turned into naked girl Ultron. You remember.

So, anyway, there's this Mighty Avengers arc where Doom is Up To Something (there are symbiotes and a satellite involved) and somehow Tony and the Avengers end up in Latveria, punching Doom. Also, by the way, Doom is visiting Morgan in the past because he likes her. The Avengers attacking his castle made him have to come back to the present, so he's kind of cranky. And he fights Tony, and in the course of the fight, his time platform explodes and sends Doom and Tony and also the Sentry to... the past.

This is one of those times where you should definitely look up the comics if possible because the way the past is visually indicated here is that it's colored with halftone dots the way you would expect old comics to be colored, although they have modern shading and color palettes. It's very charmingly retro.

So the three of them are stuck in New York in the past, and naturally they would like to leave. There's one person in this time who has a time machine and it is, of course, Reed Richards. Doom and Tony have a lot of banter in this arc; I think it's entertaining.

Sentry has to be the one to break them all into the Baxter Building because of that power he has where no one will remember him. So they do that, travel forward in time, and end up in Latveria in the present again except Doom is gone and also things are currently exploding where they are.

Doom, of course, has made a side trip to visit Morgan again and he asks her to help him build an army, because I guess this is what their relationship is like. So the rest of the Avengers are captured by what look to me like Mindless Ones and are in a cave in magic bondage, because comics. Jess comments that at least they aren't naked, because she too is remembering that memorable New Avengers trip to the Savage Land. Doom threatens Carol in some creepy sexist ways and eventually it turns out that Tony and the Sentry are fine and everyone kicks Doom's ass. Business as usual.

And the last page of the arc is Morgan alone, wondering where Doom is. So technically Morgan and Tony don't come face to face here, but I think she counts as being at least partially responsible for ruining Tony's day here. And then Secret Invasion happens and Tony has a very, very bad day.

There are a few more Morgan appearances after this, but, as I said, I don't think any of them involve Tony. She shows up in Dark Avengers, apparently, which was one of the post-Civil War Avengers titles I didn't read, and I know that recently, on the X-Men side of things, she's been in Tini Howard's Excalibur one, which I have only read a little of. No Tony there. Just a lot of Morgan and Betsy Braddock and Brian Braddock and the Otherworld.

If you are interested in Morgan's other appearances, you might like this Marvel listicle that is Morgan le Fay's six most malicious acts. I pulled some of the Darkhold backstory from their discussion, but it's not really focused on Morgan and Tony.

So there you have it! That's everything I know about Tony's love for King Arthur and every run-in I know about that he's had with Morgan le Fay! One of two terrible people in Tony's life named Morgan! Actually, I don't think we've seen Morgan Stark in a while. I wonder if he's alive. There should be a Morgan & Morgan team-up. I should probably stop typing and post this.

The tl;dr point is that you should all read Doomquest and its sequels, especially Legacy of Doom. They're great!

#posts i actually wrote

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that-was-anticlimactic · 3 years ago

Text

sk8 headcanons because i am Bored

autistic langa likes frozen fruit a lot—strawberries are his favorite—because he likes the cool texture

reki has lip freckles that really stand out after he’s been in the sun a lot ! there’s like four or five of them :)

just thinking about “all those friday nights / under the lights / under the bleachers together / you and i were meant to be something more than a faded memory / till you and i / something divided us” but matchablossom,,,

“but i’ve already lost it once / what i already won / i’ve lost too much now to care / but i know that something’s still there” ,,, matchablossom,,, ahhhhh

miya and shadow being besties,,, shadow being miya’s parental figure and miya being his adopted nb child,,,

shadow being the first person miya comes out as nonbinary to,,,

adam going to jail,,,

reki having a stuffed animal collection and letting miya name some and then realizing that miya never had a stuffed animal growing up so reki gives miya one of his older ones that he loved as a child and then buys them a new one too… and miya asks reki to name it for them because sentiments,,,

after seeing the girl he had a crush on kiss someone else, shadow takes out his feelings on the only thing he knows how to—skating at s but he’s not in a good mind and he feels sick because he thought he thought he thought he had a chance and he doesn’t pay close enough attention and gets hurt and miya calls him an idiot and patches him up and shadow feels like a kid again but it’s kind of nice to have someone else actually help with his wounds instead of just attempting to wash them and then cover them with makeup by himself,,,

joe and shadow bonding over hating the feeling of loneliness so they make up for it the only way they know how which is being loud and being extra because they don’t feel as lonely if they’re loud

reki, miya, and cherry = adhd club

cherry and reki drawing together… and reki teaching cherry how to be more loose and carefree when he draws and cherry teaching reki how to add more structure to his art,,,

langa stealing and wearing reki’s headbands,,,

langa with glasses

reki’s sisters doing cherry and joe’s hair,,, or even reki, langa, and miya doing their hair and shadow just watches and takes pictures and reki puts cherry’s hair in fishtails because he had practice with his sisters and cherry secretly likes it (and so does joe) and miya and langa just. completely messing up joe’s hair and putting hair clips in it and langa attempts a ponytail kind of like how cherry does his hair at s (and no cherry did Not find it very attractive shut up)

shadow being a scrapbooker and having like ten scrapbooks from his life,,,

shadow not being as good of an artist as cherry or reki but he does it because he enjoys it and when cherry and reki find out they invite him to draw with them

the crew / sk8 fam all going to shadow’s house and doing a couple scrapbook pages together and it’s a mess but it’s them and it’s one of shadow’s favorite pages because he’s never scrapbooked with anyone before

langa is just naturally beautiful and photogenic so the art squad always asks him to model for them if they want to draw people

joe has depression because i want him to

and shadow has anxiety

because i do Not want any of them to be neurotypical

yeah so joe has depression, shadow has anxiety, cherry has add and anxiety, miya had adhd and separation anxiety, langa is autistic, reki has tourette’s and adhd and depression ✌🏻

when miya gets old enough, shadow gets them a part time job at the flower shop

miya likes a lot of pillows

langa sleeps with no pillows (unless reki is partially his pillow)

thinking about after reki’s second beef with adam,,, joe after he tells adam off and they’re away from the crowd, he passes out because let’s be real—there is absolutely no way he didn’t get injured and the worse one is probably a broken nose and a huge gash at the back of his head with like skin peeling and stuff like need stitches so the gang all goes to cherry’s and they help patch reki up

somewhere in that time the love hotel gets brought up and by extension getting hit by the car and getting beat up and joe and shadow are on the verge of slamming their heads against the wall at reki’s nonchalantness

and reki’s p injured so he’s laying in the couch with his head resting in langa’s lap,,,

joe tells everyone embarrassing cherry stories from school like all the time (but joe was a foolish child so cherry gets revenge)

miya likes crime documentaries

joe unironically watched supernatural and that’s part of the reason why he and cherry broke up

(maybe joe just thought dean was attractive—sue him!)

lol wait what if cherry sued adam to pay for reki’s medical bills since they inevitably had to take him to the hospital

cherry constantly tells joe that he will sue him

joe may unironically watched spn, but cherry unironically watched glee

langa wrote destiel fanfiction once upon a time

langa wrote cas bakes dean a pie--

miya is carla’s favorite (after cherry)

cherry and langa with weighted blankets also

sometimes reki steals langa’s but only if he stays the night or langa brings it over and usually if he “steals” it, it’s them sharing it or reki needs the comfort of the weight if he’s not having a good time mentally lol

joe with depression,,, i just think about that a lot sometimes,,, sometimes cooking feels meaningless and, like langa, he only feels something when he skates but it’s only this temporary feeling of joy and life,,,

and shadow with anxiety,,, over-compensating his anxiety by being shadow at night and being over the top and sometimes mean because internalized ableism,,, and if he pretends he doesn’t have anxiety then maybe he won’t feel it late at night or when everything seems to go wrong during a shift at work and he keeps dropping flowers because his hands are shaking and girls don’t like guys with anxiety, right ??? so shadow thinks that he CAN’T have anxiety :/// poor dude

miya with separation anxiety pushing people away before they get attached because if they push them away before they become friends, then they wouldn’t be able to leave them,,,

langa always bouncing his foot in class and all the time because it’s his main form of stimming (look at that boy and try to tell me he doesn’t bounce his legs like there’s no tomorrow i dare you) and sometimes it makes his legs sore and cherry and joe once recommended using a heating pad if it got really sore and langa does sometimes and it makes him happy

reki with ts having anxiety when he has to speak in front of the class / do presentations because he’s hyper-aware of his tics,,, so he always meets langa’s eyes and watches langa the whole time and langa sometimes mimes taking deep breaths which really helps but honestly just seeing langa makes reki feel like he can do anything (because he would do anything for langa)

cherry doodling to stim as a child and always getting in trouble for it because teachers used to like get pissed when students doodled (or maybe they still do and it’s just always been pissy teachers and not specifically teachers when our parents were kids) and eventually cherry got fed up with getting points docked for doodling so he started writing lists and stuff and been realized he had impeccable handwriting (also joe let cherry doodle on his hand during classes they had together so cherry wouldn’t get in trouble)

cherry once had a dream that he was rachel berry and joe was finn uhh *insert last name here* from glee and joe had a beautiful voice when they sang duets in his dream so he managed to convince joe to sing in reality and turns out joe cannot sing and cherry’s glee dreams were never the same (look i am tired lol)

joe likes being the strong one in the group and he enjoys being able to mess around / show off by just casually picking people up (he also does it as an expression of love because they’re basically hugs depending on how he holds you) and one day cherry is like… done with it ??? and just strolls up to joe and just throws him over his shoulder or something and joe combusts because he did Not know cherry can do that and no his face isn’t red shut up he doesn’t find this attractive what’re you talking about

miya wants a sword and keeps trying to convince everyone to get them one for their birthday but no one will agree because ‘they’ll hurt themselves and everyone else it does not matter that all your favorite characters have swords that does not mean You should have one’

langa is the kind of person that puts peanut butter on a cheeseburger

reki’s love language is a mix of gift giving and acts of service, but he tends to lean more towards giving gifts. his receiving love language is words of affirmation but he does Not know that yet (langa does—hence his constant “you’re amazing, reki”—and eventually so does the rest of their gang lol)

shadow likes theatre

miya has internet friends,,, so does cherry,,,

joe posts those affirmations on his story all the time

reki’s texts are sometime hard to read because a) his hands get injured a lot and b) tourette’s but langa (and soon the others) learn how to read reki texts

langa sleeps with a fan on for white noise

shadow was worried (and feeling a little left out but if he doesn’t acknowledge it, then that emotion is not real… that’s how that works, right???) since he was in the hospital when reki skated against adam the second time, so when they all went back to cherry’s to tend to reki’s numerous wounds and also celebrate friendship, miya kept shadow on a face time call the entire evening

langa has an android phone

reki is super comfortable with periods because he lives with five girls—he also usually has a couple of pads and tampons on him at all times because he’s the older sibling lol

langa wears socks with sandals,,, so does shadow,,,

shadow’s feet get cold easily so he wears fluffy socks a lot

cherry keeps his fingernails at the perfect length to dramatically tap them against the table (also to freak people out by doing that)

miya is Not a morning person

miya also likes having the windows to shadow’s car rolled up because their hair gets in their face otherwise but shadow likes them down so it’s this constant struggle

i still stand by cherry suing ad*m and using the money he won to pay for reki’s medical bills (… and shadow’s… and langa’s if he needs any)

i just feel like many people have reason to sue ad*m

ponytail langa rights

joe had really bad acne as a child and teen and cherry helped him feel less self-conscious about it and helped him embrace having acne and that’s one reason why he exposes so much skin as joe because it’s a reminder of personal growth <3

also joe has acne scars on his chin and cheeks

joe has cherry’s calligraphy all over his walls

ik i already said so in reki with ts headcanons but he doodles pictures for everyone in the sk8 fam and they all keep each and every one and shadow even puts them in his scrapbook

let langa punch adam 2k21

let reki punch adam 2k21

actually they All deserve to punch adam 2k21

miya’s favorite movie is coraline

langa can’t snap his fingers

joe and cherry always argue over whether even numbers or odd numbers are best

miya does esports

joe was in marching band and was in drumline

cherry stays up late to look at the stars and he had those plastic stars taped to his ceiling as a child

reki eats tomatoes like apples and it makes joe want to cry

okay if the atla & and the sk8 characters became internet friends… these are who i think they’d be internet friends with…

cherry: katara

joe: suki

langa: sokka

miya: aang

reki: zuko

shadow: toph

note: suki, joe, miya, and aang are all actually besties. aang is the kind of person that would usually annoy miya but they just can’t dislike aang no matter how much he may want to and they somehow find themselves attached

but suki and miya would also get along really well because I know they would and aang and joe would just have fun and like it’s what they deserve so they are interchangeable / all besties

also sk8 characters if they were benders...

cherry: fire or waterbender,,, cannot decide

joe: earthbender

langa: waterbender

miya: firebender

reki: resident nonbender

shadow: earthbender

#corey rambles:)#i have a lot of feelings #also i am really bored #no i totally didn't spend like a half hour going through texts with grace just to find all the sk8 headcanons i sent her wHAT #i should be doing homework but uhhh instead i am thinking about Them #it's fine everything is fine the day isn't over yet but it will be over soon keep it together twilight keep it together--#anyways this was brought to you by corey = bored #sk8 headcanons #kyan reki with tourette’s #kyan reki #hasegawa langa #higa hiromi #chinen miya #sakurayashiki kaoru #nanjo kojiro #sk8 langa #sk8 reki #sk8shadow #sk8 miya #sk8 cherry #sk8 joe #y'all idk what to do i might just write fanfiction #at least i'm bored in my apt and not in the er hahhahhahhhahahahha wednesday #maybe i'll make some tater tots #oh and i stand by the glee and spn one #i am not wrong #joe had a crush on dean winchester #anyways i'll stop talking to myself in the tags #lol #wait i will also die on scrapbooking shadow hill

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years ago

Text

Into The Unknown, Part 5

First

Tim finished up pretty quickly.

After all, all the baby toys seemed to just be different variations of each other. Some crinkle, some make sounds, some squish, some… do nothing at all? Tim had no clue how he used to get by as a kid.

He ended up getting Damian three toys:

A tiny rubber duck. He’s almost completely sure that Marinette would have bought one if Tim hadn’t. At least when he was the one buying it he could opt to get the Darth Vader one (Damian had always been woefully uncultured, this was his one chance to make the kid watch sci-fi without risking getting stabbed).

A plush cow with crinkly ears. He had to hope that this could maybe jog memories of Batcow and, in turn, everything else. Tim had tried to think of something a little more relevant but all he could think of were things related to Batman, to Superboy, to the League of Assassins (did their lives really revolve around vigilante-work that much?)... and, unfortunately, this reality didn’t have merch that he could give the kid.

And a squishy plastic baguette. Because that was all he could think of to get back at Marinette for the duck thing.

When it came to little kid books he hesitated for just a bit before getting the basics -- stuff like animals and the letters and Spot The Dog. He wondered, vaguely, if he’d have to teach the kid numbers since they already used the Arabic numeral system. He got a book on it just in case.

Then he got a couple of books on parenting.

He checked out and then walked back to the sitting area where he was supposed to meet Marinette.

… she was taking forever.

He sighed quietly and skimmed through a book on parenting.

… oops they were supposed to breastfeed until Damian was about two. No clue what to do about that. Maybe the kid was already used to a bottle? He hoped so. He’d watch him more carefully while Marinette was holding him to see. In the meantime, he’d get a bottle and some formula on top of the baby food they’d been getting so far.

Alright so the kid was supposed to learn behaviors and language through observation. Good. That, hopefully, solved that problem. Tim probably would have just given the kid a textbook and said ‘good luck’. Marinette… he didn’t really know what Marinette would have done, but the woman wasn’t a teacher as far as he could tell and asking her to teach the kid properly was a little unfair.

Babies around his age are supposed to speak in something called… protowords? Like… a baby language? Damn, he has a miraculous and it seemingly allows him the power to understand every language but apparently ‘baby-speak’ didn’t count as a language. Tim called bullshit.

He felt a weight settle down on the bench next to him and absently glanced over.

Marinette sent him a slightly tired smile. She was wearing a new, dark red scarf.

He opened his mouth to say something only to have her shake her head and adjust her scarf a little to show him something.

Ah. It looked like Damian had fallen asleep on her shoulder so she’d fashioned the scarf into a makeshift baby sling.

“Could’ve used the stroller,” he whispered, setting his receipt in the book to mark his page.

She snorted. “And risk waking him? He cries every time he wakes up, I’m not dealing with that right now.”

He bit his lip. “You know… this book says he’s supposed to cry for, like, an hour to an hour and a half a day.”

She tipped her head to the side a little. “He’s cried like… three times.”

“Yeah, and he was really easy to shut up. Decidedly not normal.”

They looked back down at Damian, identical frowns on their faces.

“Does it have an explanation for why he’d be like this?” Marinette asked, her voice soft.

Tim hesitated.

“The only reasons I can think of are that he doesn’t think we’d help him if he cried or he thinks crying is something he’d be punished for. Considering how he was raised… it could be either. Or both.”

Marinette yawned as she sat back on the hotel bed. She leaned back against Tim, leaving him to bear the weight of both her and Damian.

He, to his credit, barely even blinked. He turned slowly until they were both leaning back against each other.

She tipped her head back to rest on his shoulder.

She could fall asleep like this, she thought. Propped against Tim. Damian, in her arms, watching an episode of something called True and the Rainbow Kingdom… it was nice.

Or, at least, it would be if Tim could stop that infernal tapping.

“Ugh, could you stop that? Some people actually sleep.”

He gave a tiny puff of laughter that acknowledged that he heard her but, alas, he continued typing.

She groaned a little and reached a hand behind herself to give him a tiny bap to his side.

“Hm. This may shock you, but hitting me really hasn’t helped your case.”

She huffed and twisted around to try and see over his shoulder. She’d given up on sleeping, anyway.

“What are you even doing?”

He shrugged just slightly. “Trying to figure out what to do about money.”

She nodded slowly, looking over his shoulder as he scrolled through jobs they could do with zero experience or degrees. That could sustain a family of three and pay for the daycare they would have to take Damian to. The options... weren’t great.

Damian tugged on her shirt for her attention and she looked down as he pointed at his screen with a bright smile. There was a black cat on the screen. She didn’t really know what he wanted until he kept saying ‘ma’ over and over. She nodded and said ‘cat’ in both Arabic and English, which seemed to sate him as he went back to watching… the giant green yeti monster stealing a basket of candy? What the fuck was even going on on this show? Were kids’ shows like this in her own world, too? Or was this one’s shows just especially weird?

A thought occurred to her and she looked back over at Tim.

“You exist in this world, right?”

He nodded absently and opened a tab that, despite its claim that it was an entry level job, apparently required two years of experience and a degree. He closed it quickly.

“Why don't we just mooch off of the other you?”

Tim sighed. “Because that’s illegal?”

“You’re a vigilante. I don’t think that ‘borrowing’ money from your alternate self is where you should draw the line on illegal activities.”

“I draw the line when it harms innocent people.”

She laughed at that. “He’s rich. It’s not like he’s going to miss it. Think of it as… giving the money to people who need it.”

“You’re a regular robin hood,” Tim said sarcastically.

“I know. I’m so kind,” she agreed, grinning.

There were a few moments of silence.

Then, finally, he shook his head. “Even if we could somehow do that -- which I can’t guarantee because I’m not completely sure I could guess my passwords -- the fact that we’re in Texas… he’d notice.”

She shrugged. “Then let’s move back to Gotham.”

He blinked and finally looked up from the computer. “What?”

“We don’t have much of a life here, really, so why not move?”

He considered this for a while before sighing and flopping back on the bed. “Let me see if I can even get into the account. There’s nothing to say that I even have the same social security number here...”

She nodded her understanding and laid back next to him. Damian whined a little at the sudden displacement but just ran a hand up and down his back absently until he was watching his show again, completely silent as he stared at the screen. Now the main girl was reaching into her bag for a weird orb of light that was, apparently, sentient. Was this the Dora of their world? God help their children.

Speaking of helping their children...

She picked up a parenting book to read while Tim tried to guess his otherworldly counterpart’s passwords.

Tim managed to get in.

He rested his head in his hands, cursing quietly.

She glanced over and smiled at his slightly flushed face.

“What was the password?”

He grumbled under his breath.

This only seemed to encourage her more because she started nudging his shoulder, the soft smile morphing into a cheeky grin.

He sighed and took a moment to gather himself before looking over at her. “It’s… ‘<3Richard<3graysons<3little<3brother<3’.”

“... I don’t get it.”

“Good. So you can’t tease me about it,” he said, sticking his tongue out at her.

She scoffed. “That’s not fair.”

“Totally is.”

He set the computer down beside himself and stretched his achy old bones. He’d had a baby for approximately two days now and he could already feel the bad back setting in. Tomorrow he would have gray hair.

“I’m going to look it up if you don’t tell me.”

“... he’s a celebrity,” Tim said quietly.

Her grin wavered back towards that genuine smile for just a second before spreading into an even wider grin. She reached out and pinched his cheeks. “Awwww, Tim, that’s so cute --!”

“Shut up,” he complained, batting her hands away.

She snickered. “No. I’m going to write that password on your tombstone.”

“You’re assuming I’m going to die first.”

“I have an extended lifespan. You’re only going to have that for another fifteen years. After that? Unless I’m really stupid you’re gonna die first.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to find out how to be immortal now. Purely to spite you.”

She snorted. “Okay. Good luck with that.”

“Thank you.”

With that, he pushed himself up with a groan. “I’m going to get him ready for bed.”

She nodded her understanding and continued with her reading.

Damian whined a little when Tim tried to take him away from where he had curled up next to Marinette but that seemed to be more because he was tired and cranky than genuine distress.

Tim was the one to bathe him. It wasn’t a bubble bath, he wasn’t eager to repeat the previous night’s mistakes, but he did give Damian the rubber duck. This seemed to work for all of them, since Damian now allowed them to take him out of the bath as long as he got to bring his duck.

Marinette grinned when she looked over at where Damian was chewing on his rubber duck as Tim struggled to click the annoyingly difficult buttons of the onesie into place.

“Told you he would love it.”

“We both know that wasn’t why you wanted to get it.”

“And we both know you didn’t get that squishy bread-thing just because you thought he would like it, either.”

He smiled. “Maaaaaybe.”

The onesie finally allowed itself to be buttoned and Tim picked Damian up so he could get into bed.

Marinette frowned. “This book says we shouldn’t let him sleep with us every night. Says it creates a bad habit that’s hard to break.”

Tim raised an eyebrow at her but, reluctantly, carried the kid over to the crib so they could sleep separately.

“Fine. But I’m going to sleep before him so I don’t stress out all night.”

She snickered. “Fine. Fine.”

He climbed into bed, set a pillow between them, and promptly dozed off before he could get woken up by Damian whimpering through the night.

… Tim woke up a few hours later -- his body wasn’t quite used to sleeping through nights just yet -- to find that Marinette had brought the kid into bed with them again.

He smiled a little and moved the pillow out from between them. Even if Damian was currently too trapped in Marinette’s arms to even reach it, it was best to make sure it couldn’t happen.

Damian whimpered a little in his sleep again and Tim tipped his head to the side. He reached over and gently combed his fingers through the fuzzy little tufts of hair that the kid had so far. Damian relaxed.

Tim sighed and shifted in the bed until he was closer to Damian, then maneuvered through Marinette’s mess of limbs to press a tiny kiss to the top of his head. The baby smiled in his sleep and, though the kid couldn’t see it, he returned the smile. He rested an arm around the kid as well in hopes that it would keep the kid feeling safe before allowing himself to drift off.

~~~~~

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

#into the unknown #maribat #tim drake #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #timari #timmari #shutterbug #timinette

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