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sailor-aviator · 1 month

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Two Birds: Prologue

Two Birds: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: Growing up in the midwest meant that you weren't exposed to many of the dangers of the world, and it also meant that you missed out on some of what life had to offer. Taking a leap, you move to New York City with a few personal belongings and the little money you have left in your savings. You become good friends with your roommate and, by extension, the people at the club she works at. However, it isn't long until you catch the eye of not one, but two mafia bosses that rule the city with an iron grip. Will you stay out of their clutches, or will you give in and become another pawn in their wicked games? (Mafia!AU)

Content Warnings: Talk of moving, Worried mom, Mentions of city, Overly enthusiastic roommate. There's not much to this, it's just the prologue lol

Word Count: 1.4k+

Series Masterlist

“Are you sure about this?”

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling the tell-tale signs of a headache tugging at your temples. You reached your hands up to rub gently at them, closing your eyes for a brief moment before opening them to glance at your mother. Her eyes held nothing but worry and apprehension as she stared at you, her lips pressed into a firm line as her eyes ran over you, her fingertips twitching nervously on the counter in the kitchen.

You knew why she was worried, and you supposed any good mother would be. You had announced a couple of weeks before that you were intending on packing up and leaving for New York City. A change in your life was needed, a need for something bigger, and to you, New York held the answers. You had dreamed of the big city since you were small, having visited once when you seven and having been enamored with the bright lights and the way that something always seemed to be happening. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your small town life, but the predictable days and repeating patterns of the town you grew up in had long since played out. It was time to depart and spread your wings, time to grow and blossom into the person you were always meant to be.

“I’m sure, Mom,” you sighed, resigning yourself to the same conversation the two of you had had at last three times a week since you announced the plan for your move.

“It’s just,” she paused, moving to wipe down the counter for the third time in the last couple minutes, “you know I worry, and it’s so different from what you know. The city isn’t like what you’ve grown up with.”

“I know,” you muttered, hands gripping your glass of water tightly. “That’s kind of the point.”

“I want you to do what it is you need and want,” she continued, “but you’ll be all alone out there, sweetie. It’ll be hard for me or your father to come out and help you if you need it.”

“I know that too,” you replied, furrowing your brows, “but Mom, I really think this will be good for me. It’ll be good for me to try and be completely on my own, to experience the world as a full-fledged adult. Besides, if I fail, I can always come home, right?”

“Of course, honey,” your mother cooed, her face softening as she looked at you once more. “You can always come home. You know there’s always a place for you here.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you smiled, taking a sip of your water.

“It’s just,” it was your mother’s turn to sigh now, “does it have to be New York? Couldn’t you have picked somewhere like St.Louis?”

“St.Louis still feels kind of small town despite the size,” you reminded her. “I wanted a place that felt like a real city. Somewhere where the buildings reach up past the sky and somewhere that never sleeps.”

“You mean a place where crime is around every corner and people are just waiting to mug you,” she grumbled, not meeting your eye.

“St.Louis has a pretty high crime rate too,” you scoffed, smiling at the scowl she sent your way.

“I’m serious, honey,” she sighed, resting her hand on the counter in front of you. “New York isn’t like here. You need to make sure that you’re being careful, okay?”

You smiled at her, nodding slowly as her lips turned downward.

“Of course, Mom,” you assured her, taking her hand in yours. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

She gave you a doubtful look before turning towards the fridge off to the side, pulling it open and considering the contents inside.

“I’m thinking spaghetti for dinner,” she said finally, glancing over at where you still sat. “How’s that sound?”

You gave her a tight-lipped smile, groaning internally and knowing that the conversation was over for now.

“Sounds great,” you replied, moving to stand, “how about I grab the noodles?”

A few weeks later and you found yourself departing from your home, only two suitcases full of your belongings that you couldn’t do without as you boarded the plane headed east. The flight was wholly uneventful, your music and audiobooks keeping you company as you tried not to think about the turbulence that shook the plane from time to time. Before you knew it, you had landed, catching your Uber as it pulled up to the curb.

You watched with fascination as the city lights grew bigger and brighter the closer you got, the throngs of people slowing traffic, but you were too excited to pay it much mind. Your head raced with the thoughts of what your new life would be like, the promise of adventure tugging at your heart as your eyes darted all about.

“You ever been to the city?” Your driver asked, eyes glued to the road as he turned down one of the many streets.

“Once,” you replied, face all but pressed up against the car window. The man chuckled as he pulled up to the curb in front of what you assumed to be your apartment building.

“Give it a couple of weeks,” he smiled, “you’ll be sick of it by then.”

You thanked the man, sliding out of the backseat and grabbing your suitcases from the trunk, waving at him as he pulled off for his next ride. You took a deep breath, walking up the stoop and finding the button for your new apartment. The buzzer sounded as you pressed the button, pulling your hand away as you waited.

The intercom crackled to life that sent your heart pattering in your chest.

“What?” Came the voice on the other end, the girl sounding somewhat put out.

“Uh, hi,” you breathed, shifting on your feet awkwardly. “I’m looking for Annie. She’s supposed to be my new roommate?”

A pause before the girl spoke your name in a question through the speaker.

“That’s me!” You chirped.

“Come on up!”

The buzzer sounded once more along with the click of the lock on the front door, and you swiftly pushed inside. The elevator rumbled its way down to you, and you eyed it warily as you stepped inside and pressed the button for the fifth floor. The box clunked rhythmically as it pulled you up to the designated floor, doors opening to an unassuming hallway. You walked slowly down the plain hall, your suitcases clattering alongside you as you stopped in front of the door marked 35. You raised your hand and gave three knocks, standing back on your heels as you waited.

A moment later, the door swung open to reveal a very pretty brunette smiling at you.

“Hey, babe!” She grinned, pulling you inside. You stumbled forward with a huff, turning just as Annie closed and locked the door behind you. She turned back to look at you, the smile still plastered to her face as she practically vibrated with excitement.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said as she walked past you to pick up a shirt that hung over the couch, “I forgot you were coming today. I’m Annie.”

She stuck out her hand for you to shake, and you took it, repeating your name with a shy smile.

“Look at you, you little country mouse,” Annie gushed as she led you further into the apartment. “You’re just a sweet, little thing, huh? Don’t you worry, I’ll show you the way around the city. You’ll be a pro in no time! Meantime, why don’t you go get settled? Your room is just through there and I’m across the hall, yeah? You hungry? I can order us some take in. Chinese sound good?”

“Uh, yeah,” you breathed, a little overwhelmed by your roommates zealousness. She seemed nice enough, but she was certainly a lot more than you were accustomed to.

“I know this place that has the best dumplings. Once you try one, you won’t ever want another, I’m telling you! Go on! Go put your bags up! Get changed! We have all night to get acquainted. I’ve been dying to speak to you face to face, Mouse.”

“Mouse?” You asked her, arching a brow at her. She grinned at you, waggling her own eyebrows as she did.

“Yeah, you know,” she waved her hand, “like that old story or whatever. Country mouse and city mouse.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, shaking your head in bemusement at your new roommate. Her grin grew wider as she grabbed her phone to place the order.

“You and I are going to be good friends, I guarantee it, Mouse,” she declared.

You had a feeling that she was right.

A/N: Here it is! I've been too excited to not write it, so I'm posting ahead of schedule as it were lol Here is the first fic of my summer lineup! As always, reblogs and comment are greatly appreciated! You can also find my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

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malachiexists13 · 1 year

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Gay Or Nay?: Ikemen Series Edition

86% voted yes, 14% voted no, so here’s the post. Reminder that these are MY impressions of the characters, and this is entirely a joke. No need to take me too seriously. If you disagree with me, that’s fine. No need to argue, just make your own post.

Also small spoilers for my ikemen ocs series.

------------------------------------------------

Ikemen Sengoku

Nobunaga Oda

Have you SEEN his right and left hand men? He’s either an ally or bi-curious. Can’t decide.

Masamune Date

He flirts with Mai to hide his homosexuality /j

Nah, I’ve seen how he admitted that he’d kiss Nobunaga. He’s gay. Bisexual if you please, but gay.

Mitsuhide Akechi

Is that even a question? Have you somehow not seen the way he flirts with Hideyoshi? Let’s be honest, he’s bisexual.

Keiji Maeda

Idk him well enough to judge that.

Hideyoshi Toyotomi

I know a lot of people are going to want me to say Hideyoshi is gay because of Mitsuhide... But honestly, Hideyoshi gives me the vibes of someone who says gay shit without realizing its gay. He seems more like a very supportive ally to me.

Ieyasu Tokugawa

Idk but I can see him as like, panromantic or something. He also screams femboy to me but we dont talk about that

Mitsunari Ishida

Confused ally <3

Ranmaru Mori

Confused ally pt.2 + closeted ace

Yoshimoto Imagawa

Gay (they try to push so hard that he’s pretty, and no straight man is supposed to be that pretty /j)

Sasuke Sarutobi

Nerdy gay

Kanetsugu Naoe

Either indifferent so like, some kind of mspec or somewhere on the ace spectrum, maybe both, not too sure

Yukimura Sanada

Awkward gay (secretly dating nerdy gay)

Kenshin Uesugi

That one token straight guy who no one is completely sure that he’s straight or not.

Shingen Takeda

In my brain, major flirt = major bisexual so-

Kicho

I’ve seen other people write him as like, indifferent or pansexual so I’m leaning towards that

Kennyo

Wdym? He’s homophobic- (THIS IS A JOKE. NO HATE TOWARDS KENNYO)

Motonari Mouri

Kinda gives me either disaster bisexual or ace/aro vibes.

Ikemen Revolution

Lancelot Kingsley

Gay but in the closet about it

Jonah Clemence

Confession time: I thought he was a woman at first LMAO-

Gay

Edgar Bright

He’s straight and an ally, but enjoys teasing the others

Zero

I dont think he’d care tbh

Kyle Ash

Didnt realize he was gay until after he started dating his boyfriend

Ray Blackwell

His whole thing about freedom and living how you want to or whatever makes me think he’s bi

Sirius Oswald

He’s an ally <3

Luka Clemence

Shy gay

Fenrir Godspeed

Overly supportive ally (especially since his gf is MTF)

Seth Hyde

Everyone thinks he’s gay, but correction he’s pan

Harr Silver

He’s pansexual

Loki Genetta

I dont know him well enough??

Blanc Lapin

He’s straight, maybe a little curious tho

Oliver Knight

He’s another ally, gives me the vibes of someone who would punch a homophobe in the face for insulting his friend

Mousse Atlas

I chronically forget he exists, so idk

Dean Tweedle

The gay twin

Dalim Tweedle

The straight twin that gets confused for the gay one

Ikemen Vampire

Napoleon Bonaparte

As far as I’m aware, in history he had two different wives and he kissed the tsar (even apparently said if the tsar was a woman, he’d make him his mistress soo--) Napoleon definitely isn’t straight

Mozart

He’s straight and hates everyone equally (/j)

Leonardo da Vinci

Gay

Arthur Conan Doyle

WHORE- this is a disaster bisexual

Vincent van Gogh

the supportive straight brother

Theodorus van Gogh

the angry gay brother

Isaac Newton

Too anxious to question his sexuality

Jean d’Arc

I like to joke that he’s bi but denies it because he hates men

William Shakespeare

not too sure tbh

Osamu Dazai

another disaster bisexual

Comte de Saint-Germain

I feel like he’d be omni. Like he doesn’t care, but still has a slight preference. Also supportive father figure <3

Sebastian

Serious gay

Vlad

I pondered on this one for a long time.. and I still have no answer

Johann Georg Faust

Closeted gay who suffers with internal homophobia (i literally wrote a oneshot for him where this was the main premise-)

Charles-Henri Sanson

another bi guy

Ikemen Prince

Leon Dompteur

straight but supportive

Chevalier Michel

Bro, it’s CANON that he’s pansexual (I think- idk. I played his route when it first came out in english so its been awhile)

Yves Kloss

I feel like he’s bi but doesnt really talk about it

Nokto Klein

He’s too slutty to be ONLY into women

Licht Klein

Straight but an ally

Clavis Lelouch

gay ass clown

Jin Grandet

Straight

Luke Randolph

I HAVE NO IDEA????

Sariel Noir

I feel like he’s straight but also an ally, like he doesn’t care but absolutely will NOT tolerate homophobia

Rio Ortiz

unsure.

Gilbert von Obsidian

Silly little gay man <3 I can see him as like, pan or something.

Keith Howell

Excluding his “other” side.. I can see Keith as straight, but a supportive ally

Silvio Ricci

He’s homophobic (secretly not straight but in denial)

#ikemen series #cybird ikemen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikemen prince #ikemen revolution #ikemen vampire #ikepri #ikevamp #ikerev #ikemen headcanons #ikesen headcanons #ikerev headcanons #ikevamp headcanons #ikepri headcanons

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narumi-gens · 1 year

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Triptych | "Your curse has a name."

Chisaki Kai x f!Reader

summary: Your life is nothing more than a triptych, a work of art in three parts with each panel depicting a distinct period — a beginning, a middle, an end. And in the triptych that is your life, the central figure has always been Chisaki Kai.

chapter warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, yandere, possessive behavior, jealousy, emotional manipulation, isolation, bullying, complicated family dynamics

notes: first genuinely new part to this fic in almost three years so fingers crossed it's actually worth the wait! this is from a nonlinear story so all the parts can be read in any order.

words: 4.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST

minors, blank, and ageless blogs will be blocked. do not interact.

The Beginning

“What’s got you so down?”

The question shatters the silence of the library. You pause in your note-taking to look up at the girl sitting across the table from you. She’s already watching you closely as she twirls her pencil in her fingers. You give her a kind smile and point at the untouched worksheet before her.

“Nao-chan, you’re supposed to be taking your practice quiz,” you whisper, doing your best not to disturb the other students around you.

“This is more important,” she insists with a pout. When the boy sitting at the next table glares at the two of you over his shoulder, you give him a sheepish look.

“Your failing math grade says otherwise,” you counter, the teasing glint in your eyes undercutting the bluntness of your words. When she sticks her tongue out at you with a scowl, you quickly slap a hand over your mouth to stifle the giggle that bubbles up.

It doesn’t seem to be enough though, because you’re on the receiving end of another dirty look from the same boy.

“How am I supposed to focus on a practice quiz when my sweet, little tutor is acting like someone kicked her puppy?” she asks and you return your attention to your notes with a soft sigh.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” you try to assure her, hoping that she’ll drop the subject altogether.

There’s a loud shhh! from the next table, the boy clearly losing his patience with you and Nao’s talking. But where you slouch down further in your seat in both shame and embarrassment, Nao just gives him an even louder shush back. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to try and bite back a smile.

“Let’s take a break. This dumb practice quiz isn’t going anywhere,” she says as she stands up. “I can hear the vending machines calling our names.”

She doesn’t wait for you before she’s walking away, letting the library doors slam shut after her and earning the ire of every other student trying to study. You consider just staying put and waiting for Nao to come back.

You take a moment to gaze at your open textbook almost longingly, wanting to simply lose yourself in differential equations. But knowing that Nao will wait as long as she needs to, you set down your pencil and follow after her — taking great care to quietly close the library door when you do.

When you get to the vending machine, Nao is sitting on the bench next to it with two bottles of green tea beside her and an expectant look on her face. You give her a resigned smile and pick up a bottle as you join her on the bench.

“Now that I’ve bribed you with the finest selection the vending machine has to offer, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” she asks and despite her teasing tone, you can hear the kind note of concern in her words.

“I mean, it is nothing really,” you insist as you pick at the bottle’s label, but now it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself rather than her. “It’s just…boy stuff.”

“Boy stuff is never nothing,” she’s quick to reply. When you shyly glance up at her, the overly serious look on her face makes you softly snort. But the fleeting amusement fades as you consider what to say, your toes curling in your shoes while you chew on your bottom lip.

“Do you…do you know Ando-kun?” you give in, the question sounding meek and the bottle’s label starts to finally rip from your anxious toying. “He’s in Class 2.”

“From the baseball team, right?” she confirms and you nod before sighing heavily.

“Yeah, we’ve been studying together lately. And I just, you know, thought he liked me,” you tell her with a shake of your head. You nervously scratch the back of your head and weakly attempt to laugh. “I guess that’s stupid. But he just really seemed like he did.”

Your hand drops back to the bottle and you slowly begin to peel off the label entirely. Nao sits quietly beside you, patiently listening. And despite how much of an idiot you feel, it does make you feel at least a little better to talk to someone else about it.

“We had plans to hang out last weekend but then he canceled at the last minute,” you start to recount for her and your face feels hot from the humiliation of remembering the entire incident all over again. “So, I found him at lunch to ask him if he wanted to go out this weekend instead…”

There’s a slow prickling sensation building behind your eyes as tears begin to form and you quickly try to blink them away. When that doesn’t work, you quickly set down the green tea and cover your face with your hands, too ashamed to let Nao see you getting so upset over something so seemingly insignificant.

“A-and I guess maybe I shouldn’t have said ‘go out,’” you sniffle. “Because he just…laughed at me. And then he asked me why someone like him would ever want to go out with someone like me.”

You must make the most pathetic sight because you suddenly feel Nao wrap her arms around you as she hugs you tightly. But you quickly chastise yourself for thinking that way about her. She’s always been friendly and nice and so, so kind to everyone — including you.

“He’s an idiot,” she huffs, trying to make you feel better. “Probably one too many baseballs to that thick head of his.”

You give a wet laugh into your palms before furiously brushing away your tears, using the sleeve of your sweater to wipe away the ones brimming your lashes before they can fall.

“I’m not kidding!” she continues, leaning back slightly so that you can see the exaggerated disbelief on her face. “‘Someone like him.’ Pfft. What does that even mean? Someone too dumb to realize how lucky he is that the girl literally at the top of our year is into him?”

While you find it hard to believe what she’s saying, it does manage to make you feel just a little bit better. You don’t point out to her that ‘someone like him’ means someone normal and ‘someone like you’ means someone who comes from a family of villains. In the back of your mind, you wonder if she already knows that and is just trying to spare your feelings.

“Thank you,” you quietly say, gently cutting her off before she can continue. For as much as you appreciate her attempts to cheer you up, you would rather just try to forget about it altogether. “You know what would really help me feel better?”

“What? Just name it and it’s yours!” she replies as she rests her hands on your shoulders, determined to do whatever she can to help you move past Ando and his rejection.

“If you pass your next math test,” you tell her and a laugh escapes you at how quickly the eagerness in her expression is replaced by horror. You give one of her hands a soft pat before standing up and leaving her behind as you make your way back to the library.

You glance over your shoulder when you hear her running to catch up, only for her to come to a stop in front of you so that you’re forced to stop as well. The determination has returned to her face.

“I won’t just pass it. I’ll ace it,” she says, the words spoken so seriously that they sound like an oath. Surprise colors your features before you softly smile.

“I know you will,” you grin in return and Nao lights up in pride at your belief in her. “But why don’t we just start with the practice test? I’m sure it’s feeling kind of lonely in the library all by itself.”

“I don’t know. That shushing guy is probably all the company it needs,” she retorts and you both burst into giggles as you begin to walk toward the library again.

As your laughter dies down, the amusement still lingers and you find yourself wanting to joke about what happened with Ando rather than cry over it.

“Hm, maybe I’m just cursed,” you shrug, a self-deprecating smile tugging at your lips.

“Why?” Nao asks and when you glance over at her, you see her frowning slightly in concern.

“It’s just that every time a guy seems to like me, he’ll then start acting like I have the plague or something,” you explain flippantly, hoping that your light tone will ease whatever it is about the topic that has her looking so unsettled. But her frown only deepens. “It’s gotta be a curse, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” she scoffs with a bitter laugh. “Your curse has a name. It’s called Chisaki Kai.”

You immediately freeze, stopping right in your tracks. All attempts at levity are forgotten as you try to understand what she’s just said. What does Kai have to do with any of this? He’s not even in your year — a Third Year where both you and Nao are in your second.

“What?” you ask, your forehead wrinkling in confusion.

She seems to only now see that you’re no longer at her side because she finally stops walking and turns back to face you with surprise. Only, the more you look at her, you start to recognize that it’s not really surprise on her expression, it’s shock. She nervously lifts a hand up to her lips, like she’s trying to put the words back where they came from.

“S-sorry. I-I don’t…I don’t know why I said that,” she eventually manages to stutter out, doing her best to give you a reassuring smile but it only makes her look anemic.

“What do you mean? Kai’s my…curse?” you repeat and you almost want to laugh over just how ridiculous it sounds. The only thing that keeps you from doing so is how anxious Nao looks.

She doesn’t answer you for a long moment, silence hanging in the hallway until she lets out a loud sigh and closes the distance between you. Where she truly seemed to be displaying compassion while you told her about Ando, all you can see now is pity and it makes your skin crawl.

“He’s been threatening any guy who gets too close to you,” she tells you. She speaks gently, as if you’re an animal that she doesn’t want to spook.

You immediately start shaking your head, unable to — refusing to — believe what you’re hearing.

“No, he wouldn’t do that,” you protest, feeling an instinctive need to defend him. He’s your best friend. He’s family.

The pity on Nao’s face only grows in response and it makes you feel even more defensive.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to say anything because I know you’re close,” she offers and she hesitates before cautiously continuing. “That’s…probably what happened with Ando-kun. He’s even beaten a couple of guys up over it.”

You shake your head again. She probably just didn’t hear what happened right. You would be the first person to admit that Kai has a temper, although it’s never been directed toward you. You’re also not blind to his tendency to use his fists over his words.

But he always has a reason. It’s always been to defend the Hassaikai and to protect you. Maybe…maybe these guys were putting on an act when they were with you — an act that Kai knew how to see right through.

Kai’s just watching out for you. He probably didn’t need to go as far as he has been, but he wouldn’t do it without a reason. He’s just protecting you.

“Kai wouldn’t do that,” you insist again, your voice even firmer this time. Nao looks visibly uncomfortable and finally gives a noncommittal hum.

“I guess you know him better than I do, right?” she replies, a note of sadness in her question. She then forces another smile on her face, trying to paper over the awkwardness that’s settled over you both. “Come on, we can’t leave that practice test alone much longer. Who knows what that shushing guy is getting up to with it!”

Your responding laugh feels just as stiff, but you do your best to try and move past your own sense of unease. However, Nao’s accusation continues to hang over you throughout the rest of your tutoring session where it then follows you home after.

And by that night, it’s something you can no longer ignore. Because for as insistent as you were about Kai’s innocence to Nao, there’s the smallest part of you that wonders if you were also trying to convince yourself. Though the thought immediately makes you feel guilty for doubting him.

You softly knock on bedroom Kai’s door before sliding it open without waiting for a response. He barely spares you a glance from where he sits at his desk, focused on whatever assignment he’s working on.

The only thing that really catches his attention is when he hears you sitting down on his neatly-made bed behind him. He looks at you over his shoulder, checking to make sure that you’re not doing so while wearing the same clothes that you’ve been in all day. When he sees that you’ve changed out of your uniform and into a clean pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, he returns to his notes.

Where the silences that you normally share are comforting and familiar, the one stretching between you now feels heavy. You wonder if Kai senses it as well or if it’s only you who feels that way. Maybe you’re just overthinking it entirely.

Despite spending most of your afternoon preoccupied by the topic, you’re not sure how to bring it up. The longer that you sit on Kai’s bed without doing so, the more unnerved you feel. When the tension finally starts to feel too oppressive, you resign yourself to cutting it.

“Hey, I heard something at school today,” you say, attempting to appear casual. But the nervous tremor in your voice belies the cool and collected facade that you’re desperately trying to cling onto.

“What?” he replies absently, clearly uninterested in whatever gossip is going around.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, hoping that being unable to see him when you answer him will make it easier to do so.

“Are you…” you trail off before clearing your throat and trying again. “Are you scaring off guys that like me?”

Kai immediately snorts at your question, seemingly amused by the idea. His pencil continues to move as he keeps working on his assignment, still giving you only the bare minimum of his attention.

“Where’d you hear that?” he asks and his easy dismissal of the accusation somehow manages to put you both slightly at ease and further on edge. Because while it’s reassuring that he doesn’t think enough of the matter to take it seriously, he also hasn’t denied it.

“Nowhere,” you answer with a shrug that he doesn’t see with his back still turned to you. “Just a rumor.”

While you’ll always give Kai the benefit of the doubt, you’re also not stupid. You know for a fact that if Kai learns that Nao is at the source, things would only end badly for her.

“So, you’re not beating up guys just because they like me?” you press, your reluctance toward doing so outweighed by the need to have him assure you.

His pencil stops moving and he finally looks back at you over his shoulder. When he sees the concern written across your features, he sets down his pencil entirely and turns in his chair to face you directly.

“I’m only fighting guys who deserve it,” he tells you and a frown pulls at the corners of your lips, unhappy with his non-answer.

You drop your gaze down to his duvet and pull on a loose thread, your hands in need of something to do. He sighs at your reaction and you hear him stand up before coming towards you.

Surprise cuts through your disappointment when he rests his hand on the top of your head. Its weight is warm and familiar and the unexpectedly affectionate gesture helps calm your nerves as you tilt your head back to look up at him.

“Have I ever done anything other than keep you safe?” he asks, his tone much more patient this time. You look at him for a long moment before a soft smile forms on your lips and the anxiety that’s been constricting your heart all afternoon and evening finally relaxes.

“No,” you reply with a shake of your head, shaking off all of your doubts as you do. Kai has earned your trust and you’ll continue to give it to him.

He shares a small smile of his own with you before playfully giving your head a gentle shove and returning to his desk, ignoring you as you whine about how he should treat you better.

The entire interaction is enough to put you at ease about the issue. A few weeks later, it’s faded completely from your mind, replaced by schoolwork and exams, the usual tensions with your father, and the time spent with Kai.

But the thing that really starts to preoccupy your attention as the school days wear on is how Nao begins to gradually distance herself from you. It happens slowly at first, starting with a change in schedule so that you’re meeting once a week instead of your regular two times a week.

She also seems much more focused on the actual academic aspect of the tutoring, whereas before she would find any excuse not to study. When your sessions come to an end, she’s quick to pack up her things and head off, leaving you with a strained smile and a quick goodbye rather than leaving the school together.

You’re positive that it’s because of how you left things during your argument over Kai. The rest of that tutoring session had dragged on, every minute saturated with awkwardness. And the following week, she told you that meeting once a week would work better for her.

You don’t really know how to fix the growing rift, unsure how to even broach the topic, let alone truly move past it to continue your once-budding friendship. But as the weeks go on and Nao starts to reschedule your sessions only to then start canceling them altogether, you know that you have to do something.

And that something is you showing up in her class just after the school day ends, hoping to catch her before she can leave. Most of the students are emptying out, eager to be out of school altogether but there are a few groups of friends who are taking their time — Nao and two other girls being one of them.

You nervously clench your hands into fists to keep them from shaking and hide them behind your back as you linger in the hallway just outside of the classroom, trying to gather the courage to approach them. When Nao looks up and sees you standing there, her eyes widen in surprise. She says something to her friends and then grabs her bag before coming towards you.

“Hey, what’s up?” she greets with a friendly smile, but you can see how strained it is around the edges.

“Nothing. I just wanted to see how things are going. It’s been a bit since we’ve had a tutoring session,” you tell her, doing your best to give her a smile of your own but knowing that it probably looks just as forced as hers.

“I’m pretty sure that math test on Friday is going to kick my ass,” she says, her nose wrinkling and you softly laugh at her reaction. She’s quick to join you with a giggle of her own and relief washes over you.

You’re also thankful for the opening that the topic provides.

“It doesn’t have to. We can do a study session if you want,” you offer, hoping that you don’t sound as eager as you feel.

Her mirth quickly fades and she suddenly looks as uncomfortable as she did that afternoon outside the library. Whatever hope you were holding onto that things might be able to return to the way they were starts to slip through your fingers like sand.

“Oh, I can’t. Sorry.” She gives you a sheepish smile. “I’ll review the notes we’ve been going over though! That should help.”

You slowly nod as you try to keep the frown off of your face.

“Y-yeah, no worries,” you assure her. “But what about next week? Does our regular time still work for you? I’m free whenever so I can work around your schedule.”

The desperation is beginning to sink in but you don’t care if she’s able to pick up on it. You just want to go back to being able to spend a couple of afternoons a week with someone nice and funny and normal.

“I’m not sure,” she hesitates, chewing on her bottom lip as she looks down at the floor. “Things are just crazy busy. Why don’t we hold off for now and I can let you know if that changes?”

It’s hard to know how to respond when she’s being so gentle about turning you down. With no option available to you other than to just give up altogether, you decide to address the elephant in the room directly.

“Nao, I’m really sorry about how things ended a few weeks ago,” you blurt out and this time it’s your turn to drop your gaze down, missing how she freezes at the change in topic.

“I-it’s fine,” she replies stiffly and your grip tightens on the straps of your bag clutched in your hands.

“I can get kind of defensive and I really didn’t mean for it to come across—”

“I said it’s fine,” she repeats, her tone firmer this time as she tries to cut off your explanation but you continue.

“You were just trying to help and I’m sorry if—”

“My parents don’t want me to hang out with you anymore!” she snaps, her voice loud and sharp enough to catch the attention of the few other students loitering nearby in the hall.

The ability to speak escapes you as what she just said, what she just practically shouted, hangs over you.

“They said your family is too dangerous,” she says, softer this time although it now sounds like she’s talking through a thick sheet of glass, her words muffled and distorted to your ears. She then pauses for a long moment before sighing. “I’m sorry, okay?”

And then she turns around and leaves you behind to face the stares and whispers of your peers on your own. Your face is on fire and you feel the familiar sensation of tears behind your eyes. An ugly mixture of shame and embarrassment roils in your stomach and it takes everything in you to shove it down.

The hallway begins to feel stifling and you rush to leave, practically running down the stairs and towards the exit, barely aware of the people you need to push through as you do. Your fingers are shaking as you open your shoe locker and you hurry to switch your shoes so that you can leave as quickly as possible.

By this point, you’re so frantic that you’re not even sure if you close the door to the locker before racing out of the building. As soon as you’re outside, you feel some of the panic dissipate with the fresh air that you’re now able to breathe.

But it’s the sight of a familiar figure walking past the school gates that has you running again in order to catch up before he can get too far. When you’re close enough, your hand reaches out and your fingers close around the fabric of his shirt and you childishly tug on the back of it to grab his attention.

Kai gives you a slightly confused look when he turns around and sees you standing there, your hand dropping back down by your side. You meet his eyes just long enough to watch as the confusion morphs into concern, lowering your eyes altogether when you see it turn into something dangerous as he takes in your clearly distressed state.

Guilt and embarrassment threaten to consume you at needing to come to him yet again for safety. How many times have the two of you done this same song and dance over the years? Isn’t he sick of this yet? Sick of you yet?

Why do you have to be such a burden to him?

“What happened?” he asks, barely able to keep the rapidly-building anger from his voice.

“Nothing,” you mumble with a pathetic sniffle.

Even without looking at him, you know that he doesn’t believe you. His gaze feels heavy as it remains focused on you.

“Kai, it’s nothing,” you insist, your voice firm yet still just as pitiful. He remains silent and just as you open your mouth to assure him that nothing happened, he finally replies.

“I thought you were tutoring today.” It’s not a question. He says it as if he’s already put together the pieces, connecting the dots between your distress and the tutoring session that you were supposed to have.

“No, I think I’m done with that,” you mumble and it hurts to say the words aloud. “I should be focusing on my own studies anyway.”

When Kai doesn’t respond, you worry that he’s going to continue to press you for an answer. But instead, he silently takes your hand in his and pulls you with him to his side as he begins to lead you away.

Your free hand instinctively comes up to clutch tightly onto the fabric of his shirt sleeve, holding his arm close as you rest your head against his shoulder. You’re grateful that he doesn’t comment on your sudden clinginess.

“Hey, can we stop at the konbini?” you ask timidly. You don’t really want to go home yet and maybe Kai will indulge you. It’s something you and Nao do after tutoring sessions.

Or rather, it’s something you and Nao used to do after tutoring sessions.

“Fine,” he agrees gruffly and you give his arm a squeeze in thanks. His easy agreement slightly soothes some of the afternoon’s sting. It also reminds you that as long as you have Kai, then you’ll be okay.

#tw yandere #chisaki kai #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul #overhaul x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #mha #mha x reader #triptych #mel writes #kai chisaki #kai chisaki x reader

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thezombieprostitute · 7 months

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Alphas & Algorithms - Part 7 - Feelings

A/N: Continued from Part 6 . Reader is female and is described as "tall". No other descriptors.

Warnings: It is a Dystopian AU. Food scarcity, hunger, mentions of families being separated. Discussion of non-consensual relationships and unwanted pregnancy. Bullying. Please let me know if I missed any!

--Part 1-- --Part 8--

--Series Masterlist--

If there was one good thing Curtis could say about his work it’s that it gives him plenty of time and space to think. And there was much to think about. They’ve started working with the pups to get them used to the fact that he’s leaving. He knows he’s out of his depth in all of this, but he trusts his brother. His brother who still knew the hand signals from all those years ago. His brother who’s apparently been trying to hook him up with Omegas for years.

He was so lost in thought he didn’t notice Hobie until he was practically in front of him.

“Oi, Curtis! How you gettin’ on with that pet? Meetin’ some interesting people from what I’ve ‘eard.”

“What do you want, Hobie? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, figured you would. Got until the security drone comes by. Ask me somefin’.”

“How much does she know?”

“Dunno,” Hobie shrugs his shoulders. “Jus’ know she knows more than she says.”

Curtis sighs at the unhelpful answer and decides to not waste time arguing. “What’s Stevie’s, Steve’s, role in all of this?”

“Couple o’ Betas on the inside are ‘elpin’ with access. Sometimes even sabotage of the Omegas. Dunno th’ specifics, don’t need to.”

“Access?”

Hobie grins, “that’s a bit much to explain for the time you got.”

Curtis nods in acquiescence, “is her Beta in on everything?”

“Yup. It’s how we know she’s not sayin’ everything she smells.” Hobie looks around, “one last question, bruv.”

“Are you sure this plan will work?”

Hobie looked Curtis in the eyes, “enough that I put my life on the line for it.”

“It isn’t just your life at risk, though.”

Hobie smiles, “th’ way we’ve got everythin’ set up, me an’ maybe two others take the fall. No one else. Definitely no one in your Pack.”

With that, Hobie runs off, giving Curtis a few seconds to get back to work before the security drone shows up.

“Jake,” Y/N yells from the kitchen. “How did the date with Hope go?”

“It went alright,” he shrugged. Y/N could smell disappointment, which for Jake smelled like rain on a summer day when you’re supposed to be outside. Then she picked up the other scent, curry and warm, strong beer. A distinctive combination that made her think of overly crowded, chaotic art fairs: everyone freely expressing whatever and however they wanted. It was a scent that made her uncomfortable just thinking about the overstimulation.

“Do you want some cookies or something to cheer you up?”

Jake chuckled, “can’t hide anything from you, huh?” Y/N smiled gently and shook her head. “Okay, the date didn’t go well. Turns out there were some serious differences of opinion but I’m hopeful they’re not deal-breakers, you know?”

Y/N hugs him, “I know.” The hug makes the scent of curry and warm beer stronger. It’s the same scent she’s smelled on people proven to be plotting against the AI. She worries for Jake, knows he’s lying about some things, but she trusts him. He’d never lie without reason and she’d be the last to speak up about the connecting scent. As her mother said, “just because you smell something doesn’t mean you have to say something.”

“How did your date go? Did he say “yes” yet? Do I get my death-by-chocolate cake?”

“Not yet,” she shook her head as she smiled. “Today’s date got a bit off track when I saw Mr. Castle in the gym.”

Jake’s face fell, “oh damn. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay. Steve came by and picked up her tea so I didn’t have to take Curtis on that delivery. Pretty sure his opinions on Omegas wasn’t helped by our encounter with Colin and Suzanne at the community center.” Jake gave an appreciative grimace while Y/N continued, “then again, I definitely felt Curtis’s drive to protect me through the temporary bond. It was really sweet.”

“Ooo! Intriguing! I’m definitely going to get my cake and eat it too!”

Y/N smiles, “he’s also asked to meet you.”

Jake stops and looks at her, “are you okay with that? You know both of us best. If you think it’ll be okay, I’m good to meet him.”

“He said that, since you’re the closest thing I have to a Pack, it would feel weird to not meet you. And, between the two of you, I really don’t think there’s any reason for animosity. He doesn’t seem the jealous type and you’re the supportive, not confrontational type, so I think it’ll be okay.”

“I promise to do whatever it takes to make everything super awkward!”

“You’re lucky I know you’re joking,” Y/N rolls her eyes. “I’m genuinely hoping, if you two do get along, and he does eventually agree to be my Alpha, that you’ll give him some…help? Guidance? With my in-heat care. Especially with the foods and scents.”

“Oh it’s definitely getting serious,” Jake smiles. “If you want me to share my secret family recipes, it’s gotta be a sealed deal.”

Y/N’s face heats up and she looks down, still smiling. Jake’s eyes go wide, “you really like him, don’t you?”

She nods, “he’s living up to the promise in his scent. He’s warm, smart, makes me feel safe and comfortable. I…I don’t think I’ve ever felt this kind of "want" for intimacy.”

Jake takes her hands, “I’m so happy for you! Can’t wait for you two to make it official.”

When Curtis gets home, the pups immediately rush him. Timmy and Andy grab his hands and lead him to the table while Yona gives him a serious face and says, “we need to talk.” They all sit at the table to eat but the pups are asking him questions between bites.

“Is it true that we’re moving?”

“Still ironing out the details,” Curtis says. “But I think Andrew, Tonya and I are agreed that everyone’s moving.” The adults nod.

“Why are we moving?”

Curtis sighs and thinks before answering, “because that’s how things go. Life requires us to make changes from time to time and that time for us is now.” Timmy and Yona seem okay with the answer but Andy looks to Andrew for confirmation first.

“Are you going to move with us?”

“Maybe for a little bit,” Curtis hesitates. “But, ultimately, I’ll be moving in with that Omega who’s been courting me.”

“Is it because we ate her cookies? Do we owe her for that?”

“No, not at all,” Curtis quickly asserts. “Not one bit of this is because of you. And those cookies were freely given.”

“Do you love her?”

Curtis pauses at that question. He’s been so busy thinking about his brother, his Pack, the pups, he hasn’t really thought about his actual feelings about her. The temporary bond is almost completely gone but it could still be coloring his feelings so he chooses his words carefully.

“I don’t know that it’s love, but I do know that I trust her. I feel comfortable around her. She’s honest, strong, caring, comforting, smart. She’s definitely changed my perspective on Omegas.” He stops when he hears the pups giggling and gives them a confused look.

“You were smiling,” Timmy giggled. “You do like her! You don’t smile for anyone you don’t like!”

“Thats…Okay, you’re right. I’m not much of a smiler.”

“Curtis is in love!” the kids chant for a bit while Tanya and Andrew are trying not to laugh. The teasing continues well into the night, well after they should all be asleep, but Curtis doesn’t push it. He wants to enjoy these moments while he can.

--Part 8--

Tagging @every-username-is-taken-damnit, per request.

#alpha!curtis everett #alpha!curtis everett x omega!reader #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x tall!reader #tall reader #tall!reader #dystopia au #dystopian au

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doberbutts · 2 years

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Yesterday an article popped up about how Kingdom Hearts 3 sold more copies than any individual game within the series combined and how that was actually bad for future of the Kingdom Hearts series and it just seemed like a lot of pessimistic nonsense and it made me realize that’s what bothers me about so much journalistic interaction with entertainment media nowadays.

It was saying how Kingdom Hearts 3 was overburdened with tying all the loose ends together rather than it being its own plot (agreed) and as a result was completely inaccessible to new fans due to the overly convoluted nature of the plot. Which like. Did we play the same game? I’m not saying the KH series isn’t bloated with enough tangential plotlines to make me wonder if the creators have some serious commitment issues, but KH3 introduced the cutscene theater and continuously referenced past games and story beats over and over and over again starting with the intro and continuing throughout the game to the point I thought it was a little masturbatory. Maybe it’s because I played every game in the series that I could easily identify each callout to something from a different game they were tying in but there were so many “oh you wouldn’t remember, let me remind you” and “don’t you remember?” and “ah yeah that was a while ago well let me explain” points that I felt the game was more “interactive cutscene” than “actual videogame” by the ending.

It then followed up by saying that KH3 outsold all of its predecessors so much that the success was actually a failure to draw new fans to the older games of the series and thus they wouldn’t understand the plot. But, KH3 wasn’t resold or returned at high rates to match the high sales costs, which implies that most people did play and enjoy and engage with it even if they hadn’t bought the previous games. That... kind of implies they either did understand the plot, or they watched any of the “Kingdom Hearts Movie” cutscene compilations on YouTube to catch up on things they weren’t getting, or they accessed the earlier games in ways that gaming stores’ reporting sales don’t track (piracy, private resellers, streamers, etc).

And thus, due to KH3 absolutely killing it with the sales, the future of the KH series is bleak because it’ll be bloated with new fans who have no idea what’s going on. Even though KH3 finished the currently overcomplicated story and we’re supposed to be getting a brand new story arc with the new set of games.

And it finished with saying that Kingdom Hearts is overall a weak sell (despite it being stupidly popular and having fantastic sales for many of its games) because the complicated plot doesn’t re-explain itself for new fans jumping in halfway through. Which at that point I’m just a little curious if the author of this article understands what a series is and how series work.

Like. I’m not saying I disagree with the heart of the statement “each entry in a series should stand on its own and not need outside explanation”- but I think if you are relying on established events that happened in a prior entry to the series, you’ll slow the plot down by rehashing what people who’ve experienced the series in the correct order already know. I started my KH journey with Chain of Memories, you know, the gameboy advance game. Did I understand every story beat? Nope. But it was enjoyable enough on its own that I knew I liked Kingdom Hearts as a concept and I’d be looking for other entries to the series. I played 2, and then backtracked to the first one while waiting for everything that came after. Then I played in what was more or less the correct order. I started as a new fan midway- admittedly, at the second entry to the franchise rather than all the way at the end- and realized that I really liked this series.

The article also complained quite a lot about the inaccessible nature of the rest of the KH series and how it’s a bajillion games spread across a bajillion consoles and I also had the same complaint once upon a time, but in a world post-KH3 where you can get literally the entire series to-date on two discs (I guess 4 technically- with 2.8 and also 3 itself) all for the same console, that’s a weak argument to be making. As long as you have a PS4 and roughly 300 hours of time spread between multiple games, the entirety of the series is readily accessible for under $100. Less, if you know how to emulate.

It just seemed very odd to me. This game sold so well and that’s bad because it means its inaccessible to new fans and dooms the series to fail in the future. How does that even work?

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unproduciblesmackdown · 2 years

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it’s also like Well Fine if the only plan for winston has always been & will continue to be [he’s a funny little guy] like yeah, he is, & that Is kind of fun in its own right sure, & obviously if they never do anything else with him then that’s what you have to take lol, and one can fill in blanks & interpret & hc things however, this that & the other thing is happening just out of frame, there’s so much that sure isn’t outright contradicted by canon b/c canon material for him is so fleeting & limited lol....but really it’s like. i mean just reflecting on how rian unlike winston was planned as a more Serious character to have more Prominence & it’s like good lord lmfao, i think winston is getting the better deal in this case even by having no character material or subplots. and of course even with better executed characters & threads, there’s a tradeoff with increased focus / material that affects or is affected by bigger plotlines more directly, since this is the show of having problems & eternal conflicts & clocking in at the sunk cost factory, any given character would be better off if they weren’t on it, so vibing tertiarily has it’s upsides lol, he's mostly hanging out, & if anyone was gonna defend him from the general insulting & rian being specifically dedicated to giving him shit, it’d presumably come at some additional cost since nobody’s been moved to try to improve such things for him just b/c they felt like it. also, really, society if there was actual material of rian & winston being friends normally, it was so promising lol & needlessly limiting that they Aren’t, as if like if rian did think he was fun & wasn’t out for his blood every day any moment, that nobody else would be pwning & insulting him, though ig nobody else is around him that much and taylor just doesn’t talk to him save for one scene one ep per season, & Someone’s got to do it....instead rian can have one connection and it’s a whatevership with taylor for the moment, are they friends? who can say. taylor could have a second employee, or personal something, or friend, but they have less potential material too for its being forbidden w/winston as this non character, or one too unserious and unsexy for the privilege of such material lol. yet for some reason they sure did posit in s6 that winston and rian are some kind of duo, except it’s so dominated by this bully/target dynamic lol and so little is glimpsed of friendlier moments b/w them that then are overridden by a return to the bullying that it’s like, i know friendship in billions is off the shits but if they’re supposed to be amicable beyond unilateral amicability from winston, i don’t know what you’re trying to show me here. however the fact that they have, maybe probably inadvertently as usual, shown us this incredibly An Autistic Character of all time, good god. and he is a funny little guy and i’ve carried him around since the fateful [all season three appearances] discovery day. and we’re kind of back to that zone in terms of limited expectations for his further material that we nevertheless know will exist lol after kind of gearing up like well i’m sure with all this recurring and the way other recurring tertiary funny little guys can be handled on this show and that now the actor isn’t busy w/a broadway show & look you introduced a friend and they immediately grab on to each other, it’s Winston Character Time i’m sure....and they were like haha what? and anyways. as a series of complaints, this has in actuality been like shaking Professional Appreciator thoughts out & stringing disjointed comments together into this post like pearls. tl;dr winston is a gem, who else is just like this. if nothing else, the particular Environment that is billions the series & the way it operates sure makes for an enriching execution of [woops, unknowingly writing an autistic person] lol, he can’t actually be too zany b/c the show isn’t overly solemn but has its limits and there’s already some other guys filling this niche of like being kinda more out there cartoony and weird, and he can’t be like, the ah. archetypical “this guy is so Impersonable but gosh darn it he’s a genius so you just gotta put up with him very much being an asshole on purpose” which is more serious (and prominent)........anyways: when you’re a quantnoisseur. literally me

#and i speak for myself very deliberately lol like. in a ''i don't know you'' way abt anyone else out there perceiving winston #people invited onto the council / into the philosophy symposium will include like twitter randos who crop up about it lmfao #like hell yeah 70 yr old lady who also loves winston or rando guy who mentions that's one of your favorite characters. right on #winston billions #just kind of shaking the mental backpack out here with a bunch of scattered Things I Am Saying #builds up over time & then some arbitrary day / night comes along and i feel like meanderingly typing a lot of things #kind of the odds n ends of remarks out here with a vague gesture at ''ffs at The Writing and yet we have fun; winston's fun regardless''#and of course shoutout to when a character is prominent and the material is engaging: the way this is the taylor mason series actually #that's what's good babey....wynnstannery just happening to be the particular angle i cover / my full time job lol #ofc i appreciate taylor mason but i realize i don't have the Thee Appreciation of Their professional full time appreciator lol #nor the expertise lol billions my fave show? haven't seen it exactly #it's called the destined niche alignments through which you can cover more ground via teamwork making that dream work? obv...

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

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You Can’t Get Better Than A Thrombey

Summary- 4.7 Ransom x You. You and Ransom have a good thing going. Friends with benefits and nothing more. But Ransom’s selfish ways end up ruining it, and you are done. Gone. You moved on with your life. Until one traveling night that brings you back to the city you had left behind, and of course Ransom Drysdale shows up. Written for @imanuglywombat Wombat’s Ugly 4k Challenge.

Warnings- This fic has a spousal cheating element to it. Please do not read if that bothers you. Other warnings, Smut, Male receiving Oral and Swears.

A/N- Thank you @imanuglywombat for the wonderful challenge! It was so much fun. Congratulations on your follower count babes.

A/N Two- Moodboard Wombat made is at the very bottom of the fic, and the lyrics used for second prompt, Good Luck by Basement Jaxx will be in italiacs through the fic.

A/N three- if just occurred to me that the whole "you cant get better then a thrombey" came from @jtargaryen18 series Naughty Ransom Holiday Tales, which her Ransom Drysdale series is top tier and absolutely should go read. It's one of my favorites. Probably why the line got stuck in my head.

“Come on Baby, just one more.” Ransom hissed against your ear, his tongue swiping over the shell of your ear while tightening his hold on your throat, your sobs coming out half strangled from needing to come on his cock that he kept pounding into you. Feet planted on the plush hotel carpet, his thrusts into your cunt had you gasping with need while your channel fluttered around his cock. He grasped your hand that was currently buried in his hair and wrenched your hand down to press against your stomach. “Feel that Kitten, how I’m rearranging your guts and fucking you useless for anyone else?”

Your head nodded, as much as he allowed with the hold on your throat, causing his fingers to flex, closing around your throat tighter till you were seeing sparks blossom in your sight and that's when you couldn't hold back anymore. Behind you, Ransom's sweaty chest clung like wrap to your back, vibrating as he grunted against your shoulder. You ended up flooding his cock, gushing on your thighs and slicking against his as he pounded you harder now, grabbing your hips and rutting you now to reach his end. Leaving your limp body to be rag-dolled in his lap till he shot himself inside of you to paint your walls, and you both fell back against the ruined California King bed, the sheets sex sweat stained from earlier.

Gasping breaths and heaving chests were the only sound in the overheated room, and you eased off him, your back peeling away to roll next to him with a groan. You peeked at him from where you had buried your head against the crook of your arm, and admired the flushed cheeks, and still tensing tendons in his neck, his hair was all disheveled and out of its usual place from where he always had it groomed back. “Mmh, what are you staring at?” He questioned before turning to look at you, his ridiculously long lashes were swept against his cheek for half a second before cold crystal cerulean’s looked at you inquiring.

“I'm looking at your post orgasm face.” You respond, and prop a hand under your head once you turn to your side. “It's a good look on you Ransom, one of your better ones.”

He arched a brow as he reached over, tracing the curve of your breast before tugging on a still sensitive nipple to make you gasp, and shove your hand against his shoulder making him smirk in his signature way. “Fucking glad you approve, maybe we should do this more often.”

“Well next time you're in the city, give me a call.” You say swinging up to sit on the edge of the bed, looking around at your discarded clothing.

“And where the fuck you going?” He tugged you back to tumble into the bed, rolling over you so you could feel his thighs wedge yours apart and his hips drop into place. You fold your arms across your chest and huff, looking up at him as he braced himself above you, tendrils of sweaty hair falling over his forehead.

“You can't be serious Ransom, again? I have to go back to my apartment. I have a work meeting tomorrow with my bosses.” You state matter of fact. “Besides, whatever happened to that no sleeping over rule?”

“Who says I'm letting you sleep? I barely get to come to the city anyways.” He lowered over you, pressing his soft pillowed lips in all your weakest spots on your shoulder and neck, a hand sliding between your thighs and into slick folds. Fuck this man, your mind thought till it went blank again in the sensation of his fingers so expertly playing between your petals that you already were stretching your thighs wider for him. “I haven't thoroughly fucked you yet.”

“God I hate you.” You moaned out as you felt your resolve fluttering into his favor, the metal of his pinkie rubbed against your clit and a long finger stretched you open once more.

“Well this sure isn't love Kitten, cause I'm about to destroy you. Admit it Y/N, you haven't had anything better than me.” He expertly gave you those long fingered strokes that had you keening his name, losing your entire resolve.

“That's my girl…” He praised above you while you grabbed his biceps and started to climb to the heavens all over again.

❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕

A knock on the door disturbed your sleep. You stirred in confusion against the overly soft pillow that wasn't at all familiar. You lifted your head in confusion, looking around when another knock came, and you heard Ransom yell from the bathroom, snapping it open. “Fuck, will be right there.”

You clutched the sheet and sat up, rubbing at your eyes while he brought in a cart with covered trays. “I didn't think you would ever get up Y/N.” He said while wheeling it to a table, and it occurred to you that the sun was awful bright.

“Oh shit, Ransom, what time is it?” You shoot across the bed, looking desperately for your cell phone, and he gives a shrug while lifting the cover off one tray.

“Hell if I know… 10? 11?” he says while grabbing a piece of toast and biting the corner while you are moving aside pillows trying to find your phone.

“Ransom!” You snagged your phone from under a pillow, and checked the notifications. Closing your eyes in frustration. “It's more like 1 in the afternoon, and I was supposed to have a meeting at 10. I set my alarm.”

Ransom strode over to you as you were typing out a message to your office hurriedly. “Oh, yea I might have silenced it this morning. The fucking thing wouldn’t stop chirping.”

Your eyes lifted from your screen and said with utmost disbelief. “You… silenced it?”

“It was so fucking early and woke me up Y/N.” Like you had inconvenienced him. “I don’t know why you set the fucking thing anyways.” He said, and you felt rage well up in your chest, pushing up out of the bed, and grabbed at your clothes.

“You did it this time Ransom. You are a fuck buddy, and yet you take the whole thing quite literally don’t you.” You grab at your panties, shoving them on and then snatch your bra. “Fucked me over on the most important meeting of my life, I should have known better then to answer your fucking text.” You are ranting to yourself, searching for your skirt.

Ransom seems confused at your words, starting to follow you around. “You’re mad because of that job? I’ve told you a hundred times to come on as Harlan's assistant. He’s been looking for years and you would be perfect. Probably pay you better and you can come to my place more often.” His tone turned cocky while saying this, his gift to you apparently.

You pushed past Ransom without even saying anything, grabbing your shirt and shoving it over your head. “You sold me down the river now Ransom.” You grab at your heels and slip them on while reading the message on your phone sent back from your office. Basically telling you to get your ass in because the boss wanted to see you. Breathing out in defeat. “I hope you’re feeling happy now.” You drop it in your bag while he gives an exaggerated eye roll at you.

“Come on Y/N, It's not the end of the world.” He grasped your arm to stop you storming out, and you hiss at him.

“You don't get it Ransom do you, I worked hard for this, my whole fucking life. And I let you ruin it for me. I should be mad at you but it would be such a waste of energy on you. So I’m mad at myself more.” You look him up and down while wrenching your arm out of his grasp, and look up at him, committing him to memory, this exact expression of his. Signature sneer crossing his face that edged on his face with a smirk like he would fix this problem with the easiest way possible. It might have worked with another woman, one who thought that he ‘Loved Her’ but you were not fooled, there was no love between you. This was a way to scratch an itch. One that you needed to break away from. Now that the damage was done.

“We’re all done Ransom, I can’t keep doing this shit anymore with you. The consequences outweigh the benefits of sleeping with you.” You started towards the door and you felt him spin you around, pressing you against the door.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Kitten?” He sneered down at you, and when you tried to push him away, he slammed you back into the door with a dull thud. “You don't throw away a good thing Sweetheart.”

You catch your breath, the hard masculine body crushing against you was all too familiar, and up to his expression that looked like he had won you over. Now you always have a sneer in your smile Ransom, you thought to yourself, thinking you have actual control over me. Your hands planted against his chest, and his gaze darkened as you made him back away from you with resolve. “But wake up, Baby, You’re so totally deluded… I'm throwing away this good thing right now.” Turning away, you were quick to open the door and look over your shoulder. “Don’t bother fucking calling me anymore.”

With a quick snap out the door, as you walked down the five star hotel hallway, you heard Ransom rip open the door and poke his head out. “Don't worry about me calling you Kitten, not like you are the only lay I can get in this town.”

You didn't even bother answering as you stepped on the elevator. Your last sight of him was striding towards the elevator doors as they shut, staring back at him coldly as he shouted your name and the doors blocked him from you, now your reflection staring coldly back at you in the steel doors as the elevator brought you to the lobby.

❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕

That would be the last time you saw him in a couple years. You ended up losing your job that day, and decided that it wasn't just Ransom you needed to change in your life, but all of it. You put out resumes all over New England and found someone to take over the lease to your apartment. Within a couple months from that night, you were moving out of the city and to a small suburb, house, lawn and everything. You went to work as a legal aide at a small law firm. Dates happened here and there, but you didn't let any of them get close in the way Ransom was. Eventually dating turned into a matter of convenience for you. You settled finally. A lawyer that chased after you for a while, Neil. He made an excellent lover and you two were comfortable, you even loved him in a way. Just like he loved you in a way. He had long hours, and you always traveled. It became a relationship of sorts for you two.

This evening you sat in the swanky Boston bar, another business trip for the firm, sipping from a second gin and tonic while scanning the room when you saw a sight you never thought you would see again.

One Ransom Drysdale came in with some slim waisted woman clinging to him, chatting away but you could tell just from the way he scanned the room that he wasn't even paying attention to her. When his gaze fell on you, his brows arched in surprise, but then they darkened and he whispered to his companion. When she split away towards a table, he strode over to you sitting at the bar.

“Never thought I would see you slumming in this part of town again.” He said slowly while waving the bartender over. “You look good Y/N.” He said in a matter of fact tone, and you raked a gaze over him. In the two years you hadn’t seen him, he barely changed. Still wore the high end clothes, and that camel colored coat that was so soft to the touch, that pinkie ring shone just a bit in the low light. “Another gin and tonic for her to.” in which your drink was switched out with a fresh one.

“Business Hugh.” You snipped out, catching him scowl at mention of his name. How you got a thrill knowing how much he hated it. “And you don't look bad yourself. Still living that trust fund life, it treats you good.” You thanked the bartender and sipped from the much stronger gin and tonic now, feeling the tendrils of heat curl in your veins from the alcohol.

“Well I will have you know not entirely a trust fund life now.” He remarked your words back to you while he leaned in closer, his hand sliding along your thigh in that all too familiar way of his. “I took over part of Blood Like Wine just to piss Walt off. But I enjoy it, and have been doing some writing myself with Harlan’s help.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, tilting your head towards him. “You actually got serious in life? I’m impressed.”

Ransom shrugged while twirling his glass, the bits of ice clinking in the glass. “Got bored, needed something to do Y/N.”

You laughed hearing him, and glanced over your shoulder. “Isn’t your date waiting on your Ransom?”

He looked over his shoulder at the woman he had come in with, shaking his head. “Nah, she will be fine. See, she already is eyeing up someone else.” He stated, watching as his previous date scooted over, letting someone sit in the booth with her. Ransom turned back to you and smirked, settling in comfortably next to you. “Guess we actually get to catch up.” You didn't send him away, in fact you two fell back into easy conversation talking about the past two years. The evening turned to night, and the bartender gave you two the cut off. Before you could excuse yourself to leave, Ransom reached out and caught your wrist to keep you from getting up.

“Looks like I'm free tonight, what do you say… one more for old times sake?”

You pondered his offer, the last swallow of gin and tonic was probably that last push as you glanced at your old lover. His eyes showed promise that it would be good, and you knew full well that he had every right to be cocky. Setting your glass down, you nod.

“Old times sake… but this is it Drysdale.”

You two escaped the bar, Ransom knowing the streets like the back of his hand. It was like the old days when you two messed around, familiar in the sense you knew that you two would hit the subway. You hated riding in the beamer around the city, and he was well aware of it. Teasing looks and touches were shared on the subway, once in a while a dirty kiss before splitting apart. “Fuck you taste good Kitten.” He muttered your old nickname against your neck as he sucked a mark against your pulse. “So addictive.” You hide a grin in against his shoulder hearing him.

The thing that ended up surprising you was when Ransom didn't pull you to one of your regular meetup Hotels, but an actual apartment building. “What is this?” You stalled as he hit the numbers in the pad on the side of the building to be let in.

“I moved into the city. Made more sense then having to travel all the fucking time.” Pulling you into the building and steering you to the elevator, he crowded into you once the doors shut on you two. Your head tilted back to let him skim those lips over your pulse once more and tug your ear between sharp teeth, needy fingers bunching under your sweater, and trailing fire against your skin till his touch turned into a press of fingertips biting into your curves. Your hands fisted in his cashmere sweater, brushing your face against the hard planes of his jawline, sighing in such a needy way, its been so fucking long since you’ve felt this. Felt that physical urge to just get lost in the most primal of ways.

You two crashed into the apartment, tugging at each others clothes and stumbling into the walls, pushing back and forth till you shoved Ransom hard against the hallway wall, rolling into him with a clash of teeth and hisses when his hand fist in your hair, pulling you away to march you two closer to the bedroom, his enormous body crowding you where he wanted you. “Come on Kitten, remind me how good that mouth was again.”

You didn't hesitate to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor and your hands twisted in his trousers to tug at the button and zipper, yanking them down his legs till he stepped from them. “Open.” Ransom demanded while wrapping his hand around his hard cock and jerked it while you looked up at him with a begging expression, you wanted it, him. You tongue fell out to accept his offering. Perhaps you should have felt shame at your desperate actions, at how easily you turned into a whore for Ransom. You had been in a committed relationship with Neil for six months, and here you were breaking it all for a man you sworn yourself from. Ransom was not gentle about taking you apart either, which you had craved his demanding nature the past two years. His cock pressed past your lips into your wet heat, making you widen around him till he hit the back of your throat making you sputter. You tried to pull away instinctively but he held you there for a few seconds till you relaxed. “Thatta girl Kitten.” Ransom praised and his hips started to thrust into your mouth.

“Fuck I missed seeing you like this.” He grunted as he moved your head back and forth, his hands digging into your scalp and fucked into your mouth. You clenched your thighs underneath yourself, wanting to hide that desire to grind into anything for the friction, completely growing wet with the way he just fucked your mouth how he wanted. You slurped on his cock, hollowing your cheeks to tighten around him, fluttering your tongue against that thick vein while he pressed your mouth to take more, and your nose ended up against the tight dark pubic curls, drool dripped down your chin to leave you ruined looking.

“Grinding yourself against your thigh Slut, I can see those hips moving.” He yanked you off his cock, your tongue darting to kitten lick the red tip while looking up at him as your hands rubbed up and down his muscular thighs while he jerked himself. Seeing he was close you tipped back further as his hold allowed, whining.

“Yes I am Ransom, fuck you for making me this way.” You whined out as you shifted your hips, rubbing your cunt as hard as possible against the back of your foreleg, wanting to get that fulfillment.

He squeezed himself slightly to keep from cumming and dragged you back to your feet, snapping a hand against your ass to get you moving “Then let's take care of that Kitten.” Your fingers dipped into your waistband of your panties shimming them down while Ransom grabbed palmfuls of your ass and ground his cock between your cheeks. “I got to get inside you…” He panted into the curve of your neck and as soon as you reached the bedroom, he pressed you against the dresser just inside the door. Pulling your ass out and his cock pressed between slick folds, pushing himself into you, both of you sighed in relief at the familiar sensation. You stretched around him till you were full of him, and him feeling you wrapped around him so tight, your cunt seemed to swallow him.

He took you from behind, rattling the dresser with each pounding thrust, his hands digging permanent marks into your hips in a ruthless way. A way you had missed, hard demanding ruts, banging your hips into the hardwood of the dresser and your hands tried finding purchase against the wood when he angled and found that sweet spot that only he seemed to be able to find. Making you keen his name and he snapped his teeth, clenching his jaw till the tendons of his neck strained with the power he was slamming into you.

“That was all it took to flood my cock, Kitten, you must be needy.”

You sagged against the dresser but he wasn't over with you yet, it had been years since he had you with him. Man handling you to the bed, you went to your back and he fell over you. Snapping kisses against the sensitive part of your chest to the tops of your breasts, his hand dragged your bra down, the bands straining and lifting your chest off the bed while you dug your hands into his hair, pulling it hard enough for him to moan into your skin and his teeth sink into the top of your breast.

“Ransom, no more marks.” You tried to stop him but he muttered something between the curves, drawing a swipe till he got to your nipple, latching on and pulling on it for it to swell.

“Yea yea, got a boyfriend you can’t let see.” He said in a joking manner as a hand moved underneath you to release your bra, and he shifted your hips to settle underneath him. You slipped your hands along his chest, and curled around his neck, shrugging a shoulder.

“Perhaps, just don't mark me up.” you snapped, and he smothered you again, lip biting kisses as he thrust into you, your legs wrapping around his slender hips, and pulling him in closer.

As his hips rocked into you, slower than before dragging himself back and forth, he lifted to his elbows, looking down at you as you bit your lip, pressing your head back. “What's his name?”

Your eyes spring open as your fingers dig into his back. “W-what Ransom?”

He pressed forward, pinning you into the mattress while grinding into you. “His fucking name Kitten, what is it?” This time when you look up at him, you can see his mouth set in a thin line, and ground himself into you, making you clench around him.

“Why does it matter?” your nails loosen slightly and drag down his back. “You never cared before.”

Ransom then blessed you with that signature smirk, and moved his hand to your throat to tighten, and tighten enough to make you gasp out, the move making you flutter around him. “Because Kitten.” His mouth lowered over yours, teeth sinking into your lip and tongue filling your mouth and stealing the last air from your lungs. “I know you, you will never be satisfied with settling down Y/N. It's not in you. These past two years, have you actually been satisfied like this.”

“A lot changes in those two years Ransom.” You gasped into his mouth, fighting him back now after his words, working your hips back to meet him with each thrust. “Oh better to be like you? Just fucking around. You’ll end up old and lonely without someone in your life.” Your tongue lapped at the roof of his mouth and your eyes rolled up feeling him splitting you apart.

“Come on Kitten, you're not telling me you didn't miss this? Us? You are all I have ever needed, you know that.” Ransom demanded, and you shuddered under him, cumming just then, his hand around your neck tightened all that much further while he chased his own ending this time. Pushing you up the bed till you both were buried in the pillows. Soon you felt him paint your walls, burying himself into you till his body crushed yours down into the mattress, your thighs quivering around his waist and you were panting against his shoulder, trying to catch your breath. He lifted his head to look down at you, a brow arched waiting for an answer. “So?”

Your fingers slid up his back and over his shoulders, staring back up at him, wrinkling your nose at him. “Why do you have to make this anything more then a good one last time fuck?” You pushed on his shoulders to turn him to his back and straddled him, covering his mouth. “Just shut the fuck up, okay?”

Ransom's teeth sank into your palm, while grasping your hips and lifting you to sink you onto him.

“Make me Kitten.” he hissed at you in challenge.

❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕

It was early morning when you both were tangled around each other, the sheets pushed off the bed, and you were using Ransom more as your blanket, soaking in that post sex haze that made you all limp. He was half snoring in your hair and you were staring at the ceiling. You closed your eyes with shame and disgust with yourself, since you were going to have to make some lame excuse to Neil about why you didn't answer your phone. As well as why you weren't at your hotel last night.

“I can hear you thinking” Ransom groaned from above you, and you tilted your head up to see an early morning beard starting to prickle his skin, and you shifted to pull back, giving a bit of space while resettling yourself to face him properly.

“You asked me last night if there was someone. There is Ransom… we've been dating just about six months. And he’s a good person, a decent man.”

He rubbed at his face to open his eyes and be able to focus on you, still sleep laced as he spoke once more. “And Y/N? Why are you worried? It's not like we haven’t done this plenty of times, dating someone or not.”

You worried your lip, sighing with a shake of your head. “That hasn't been me since I moved, I left it all behind when I left Boston. But then you come right back, and I’m stupid enough to fuck around with you again. Am I ever going to get you out of my system?”

That made him smirk, and lean into you, kissing you dirty so early in the morning. “Now you're making yourself sound like one of those crazy bitches on the ID channel. Should I be worried about you?”

You snorted against his kiss, pressing him against his chest to make him fall back into his spot in the bed. “If you didn’t get a bullet in your head already after the last time, you should know you're safe.”

His arm circled around your waist, his thumb sweeping back and forth across the small of your back. “I'm glad I’m forgiven for last time Y/N. And this changes nothing that you do with whatever his name is.”

You reached forward and let your fingers trail along the planes of his pecs, feeling guilty, but not regretting it, not really. Ransom had always fulfilled something in you that no one else ever was able to.

“Yea I guess you're forgiven, although it was still a shitty thing to do. Come on, even you have to admit that Ransom. And his name is Neil.” You pushed to hear him admit he was in the wrong, and he rolled his eyes at you, sliding his hand to grasp an ass cheek and squeeze it in his palm.

“Did I just have to say that last time for you to forgive me Kitten? Cause fuck, two years is a long time.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No, I fucking hated you back then. I would have still left, I’m just now tolerating you.” You pulled back and moved to sit up at the edge of the bed. “And now I gotta call Neil with some lie about where I was.”

Ransom moved to the other side, reaching for his boxers to slip on. “Just tell him you met up with an old friend Y/N.”

You pushed off from the bed and tugged the first shirt you found, Ransom's sweater while leaving the bedroom to talk to Neil. With luck, he didn't answer, and you just left a message to call you back and that you were safe, that you had met up with some old girlfriends. Glancing around, it occurred to you that Ransom really did live here, not just stay here on occasion. There was mail on the counter, books and manuscripts on the coffee table in the living room, and coats hanging near the door, an abandoned dirty coffee mug near the sink. You started to pick up the clothing you two had scattered through the apartment when Ransom came out, watching you for a moment while leaning against the wall.

“Reach the boyfriend?” He said matter of fact, which you straightened, and glanced back at him while folding some clothes and shaking your head.

“No, but I should probably get ready to go, I'm supposed to be driving home today.” you pluck at his sweater you're wearing and he strides across the room, his fingers sliding under your chin to lift your gaze back up.

“You know Kitten we will never really be done with each other.” He said, tilting his head. “Week from now, five years down the road, it doesn't matter when it happens again. So lose the guilt, it's not good for you. It's just the way it is.”

He was right, you knew he was right and part of you hated him for the fact that he was right. “After all, you don't get anything better than a Thrombey, Kitten.”

Fuck this man for having this hold on you.

Moodboard Prompt- The City

#uglywombat4kchallenge #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fic #knives out au #knives out fic #knives out #ransom drysdale au #amber writes #sweater writes

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hyunjilicious · 3 years

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the premiere [chris evans]

A/n: This was requested and it took me TWO AGES to write, so I’m sorry. The anon mentioned I should make it as smutty as possible, but I thought that since this is my first ever Chris Evans fic, I shouldn’t go too far..? I still hope you’ll like it, and if you do, please don’t hesitate to tell me!! It makes my day!!

Summary: You and Chris are friends with benefits. When he takes you the premiere of his latest movie, a series of events leads to a meet-up in the bathroom, where things get heated. (SMUT) 4.1k

Warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talk with a hint of degradation (Chris is a liiiiiittle bit of an asshole but he makes up for it, I promise), daddy kink, choking + breath play and if you squint there is also some size kink there!

The amount of nervous sweat that had pooled inside your pores was threatening to pass the threshold of common sense. Tens of cameras and hundreds of eyes pointed at you, the uncomfortable high heels you regretted wearing and the amount of Hollywood A-listers around you, were all getting too much for you to bear.

Initially, Chris remained glued to your side; never allowing even the tiniest bit of space to be put between your bodies, but now things have changed.

You missed his presence by your side as it was literally your safe net, especially in situations like these. That was why every time you felt a conversation with some random attendee had run its course, your eyes would instantly search for Chris. Just knowing he was in the same room, calmed you down.

Afraid not to seem too clingy, you did your best to stay away from him. But that only proved to be more difficult as more and more minutes passed. He always had a devious grin plastered on his lips whenever you looked at him from the other side of the room.

At one point, alone and away from any group of people that were only looking to make small talk, you retreated into a corner, and took out your phone. Among the tens of notifications on your lock screen, there was also a text from Chris, which arrived about 2 minutes prior. It only read an "😏" next to the name you saved him under, 'Daddy x'

Unable but also unwilling to hide your blush, you raised your gaze and found him, along 3 of his friends about 10 meters to the side. The group seemed to be in the middle of a ravenous conversation, everyone frantically gesticulating. Everyone but Chris. His eyes were trained on you, and remained like that as he took a sip of his whiskey. He watched you over the rim of the glass, and then proceeded to lick his lips suggestively.

You knew what that meant, and before your mind even got a chance to process it, your core already started to ache in anticipation. Busying yourself around the venue, you did your best to make the night pass faster. You wanted to get home, you knew Chris wanted you and that was not a mood of his you ever wanted to miss.

Things seemed to be going well until you found yourself at the bar, ordering another cocktail. As you waited for the employee to prepare your drink, you felt a strong hand caress your side, before shamelessly slapping your ass. You jumped, surprised and offended, only to see Chris as he walked away.

At this point, watching his muscles flex under the navy blue suit he wore, you were basically dripping.

When the announcement was made for everyone to take their seats as the movie was set to begin in a couple of minutes, you breathed out relieved, happy you'd finally be able to spend two hours in his presence without anyone asking any questions.

Or that was what you thought. When you took your seat, you couldn't have been more disappointed to see Chris was nowhere around. After contemplating how bad of an idea it would be to call and ask, your phone buzzed in your hand.

"3b exit. 2nd door on your left. Now"

As you read the text, you couldn't fight the urge to rub your thighs together. But it didn't help. At all. You knew what was waiting for you so your pathetic attempt to alleviate the pain between your legs proved to be entirely in vain.

When you stood up, the lights went down and the movie started.

Slowly making your way down the hallway, you could already feel your heart beating out of your chest. When you reached the door he mentioned in his text, you saw that it was supposed to lead to a bathroom. A small pang of disappointment enveloped you, as you wished you were actually going to meet him outside and head home. Still, you took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The light inside was a heavy shade of red, making the anyway overly exotic bathroom look downright erotic. You took another deep breath and looked to the side, your eyes landing on Chris’s frame.

He was standing in front of the mirror, his suit jacket missing from his shoulders. He had his sleeves rolled up, his shirt still neatly tucked into his pants. A sight for sore eyes, you thought to yourself as your eyes traveled down his frame.

Chris raised his head, his gloomy gaze meeting yours through the reflection in the mirror.

"Hey" you smiled, only now closing the door behind you.

In a matter of seconds, he turned around with a devious grin on his lips. "Glad you listened to me, doll. I was afraid you wouldn't" he said, taking hurried menacing steps in your direction.

"Why?" you giggled.

His grin only widened at your cluelessness, but only until he reached you. Chris didn't waste any time before grabbing your cheeks into his massive hands and slamming your back into the door before he kissed you.

The air was punched out of your lungs. His lips effortlessly engulfed yours as he pushed himself against you, consuming you.

Eventually, he went on to kiss along your jawline, traveling down your neck as he spoke greedily against your skin, "Teased me all fucking night long, baby"

"I didn't do anything" you breathed out, melting under his touch.

In that moment, you knew he was serious as his hands trapped your waist, his fingers burning through the material of your dress, "Don't play dumb, angel, we both know where you stand"

"Chris-" you whined, holding onto his shoulders for support as you arched your back, your breasts rubbing against his rock hard chest.

He hummed, as a signal for you to say what was on your mind.

"Come on-" you panted, enjoying the way the pain of his teeth sinking into your skin turned into pleasure. "Let's go"

To that, he stopped. Chris pulled away from you with a look of pure confusion in his eyes, "Go where, Y/n?"

"Home..? To your apar-"

"Oh" he chuckled, eyes dark as devious new ideas popped into his mind, thoughts materialising, "You're not going anywhere until I fuck the slut of you"

His words, although crude and delivered in a malicious tone, fueled your senses and made your core buzz. "Hell no" you said, against your gut, "I'm not-"

"You know how things work" he shook his head, forcibly grabbing your forearm and pulling you until you were facing the mirror. "Don't turn all good girl on me right now"

As if you weren't already shamelessly riled up, the reflection in the mirror seriously did the job. You watched your frame, delicately wrapped in the almost see-through material of your dress, and then your eyes slipped to the side, where Chris was towering over you. Shoulders significantly broader and almost a head taller than you, his presence forced your heart into overdrive.

He looked down at you, bringing his left hand up to wrap his fingers around your neck. Instinctively, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips as you fell back against his stone solid chest.

"Look how gorgeous you are" Chris grinned, rubbing his thumb up and down your jugular, "And I trained you so fucking well, don't disappoint me"

Heaving, you arched your back, unconsciously rubbing your ass against his already rock hard cock. "I didn't- I didn't lock the door. What- what if someone comes in?"

"Then they're gonna see me fucking my girl. So what? Isn't that why we're together? I have a slut to fuck whenever I feel like it and you, like the whore you are, actually fucking love it?"

"Shit-" you gasped, feeling his grip tighten around your neck as he spoke.

"Isn't it? Am I wrong?"

You fervently nodded your head, and as you gasped for air once again, he released you.

"I didn't hear that?" Chris taunted, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Fuck, of course" you said, your own words worsening the pain between your legs. "Yes, you're right"

"Now you're not just saying that, are you, angel?"

"No!" you said, with a kind of eagerness you didn't know you owned. Turning around in his hold, you placed your hands on his chest before looking up into his darkened eyes, "You know I'm all in, I'm sorry. You know I always do what you tell me, Daddy, I don't know what's gotten into me"

"That's what I wanted to hear, pet" Chris said, roughly rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip, "Now turn around and open that pretty mouth for me, princess, hm?"

Obediently this time, you spun around to face the mirror and parted your lips, eagerly awaiting his next move.

After enjoying the view for a few brief seconds, Chris sunk his right hand into the pocket of his trousers, fishing out his phone. Your heart rate picked up as his left hand returned around your neck, this time only teasing its way up to your lips. He shoved two fingers into your mouth and your muscle memory kicked in as you instantly started to suck on them.

"Oh my god!" Chris exclaimed. You felt him move around a bit, his cock pressing into your ass, "You're fuck toy material, you know that?"

With his fingers still knuckles deep inside your mouth, you nodded, eyes trained on his reflection.

"Now open wide, you little slut. Poke that tongue out for Daddy" he commanded, and then forced his fingers deeper, reaching the back of your throat.

You coughed softly, your gag reflex threatening to kick in. But he kept going, "Choke on my fingers, angel. Come on, I wanna see a sweet little tear."

A low moaning sound escaped your throat, followed by another cough which signaled your air supply was running low.

"A little more, pet. I know you can do it, show me what I want to see"

But it was him who pushed your limits once again. Chris pushed his fingers down harder against your tongue, triggering another cough. This one was rougher however, as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, while you struggled to catch your breath even after he pulled his fingers away.

The pressure between your legs kept increasing, becoming almost unbearable when you felt his hand against your side, soothingly rubbing your waist.

In just about a few seconds, you came back to your senses and immediately turned around, eyes desperately searching for Chris's.

"That's my good girl" he smiled proudly, looking down at you in awe.

You nodded obediently, rubbing your thighs together.

"Wanna see how hot you are, angel?" he grinned, unlocking his phone and opening up the gallery. The ease with which he scrolled down through the app and typed in the password to his secret album, proved just how often he accessed your pictures. It made you beam.

Once the shots he just took popped up on the screen, your mouth watered. You didn't even look at yourself, just him - admired his immense frame, the proud smirk on his lips and the pure lust in his eyes.

"You’re such a good slut, baby" he spoke against your temple, "You love listening to me, don't you? Having no say whatsoever, no control over what's gonna happen to this sweet body of yours. Being at my mercy? I told you you don't get to breathe right now, you didn't even fight, darling. You're just too eager to please me, aren't you?"

"Yes, Daddy" you nodded, his grave tone of voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Good, good" Chris sighed.

Then, effortlessly and in one swift motion, he spun you around, to face the mirror again. Placing his big hand on your upper back, between your shoulder blades, he forced you down, bending your body over the sink.

With his foot, Chris forced your ankles apart. The sound of his belt buckle being undone made all the hairs on your body stand up, but the zipper was the last drop, forcing a sweet moan to escape your lips.

"Be patient, baby" he spoke, pulling your dress up, over your hips. Curling two fingers around the waistband of your panties, he pulled them down your legs, until they fell around your ankles.

Now, being completely exposed in front of him, you couldn't take it anymore. "Come on, please, I need you"

"I know you do, darling" Chris said with a sweet but still condescending tone, "but I'm not done yet"

It was clear what he meant when you heard the camera of his phone click again. The sound made your walls clench. All your buttons had been pushed, you couldn't wait anymore.

"Please" you whined, wiggling your body to get his attention.

A few seconds of silence followed, and then he threw his phone on the edge of the sink, mere inches away from your face.

His right hand connected to your ass, his fingers sinking into your skin until you couldn't feel the pressure anymore, just a stinging sensation. Nibbling on your lower lip, you tried your best to be good, and you succeeded, at first. When the first slap was delivered however, you couldn't help yourself.

Whimpering, you enjoyed the feeling of pain as it dissipated and turned into pleasure. Chris kept going, decorating your cheeks with countless red hand marks, each more painful than the other.

"You good, baby?" he asked, caressing the inflamed skin of your ass, "Does it hurt?"

You nodded yes.

"Good, angel, it has to. Can you take more?"

"Y-yes"

And that, that was your wrong doing. What followed turned out to be much more than you ever thought you could handle. He showed no mercy or remorse as you whined and struggled, your legs shaking uncontrollably. It was unclear why he stopped when he did, but you were grateful.

"You’re fucking dripping down your thighs" Chris said, moving his hand between your legs, "I wanna see how far I can push you, how long I can keep going until I break you, doll."

You remained silent, fighting the urge to tell him to do it.

"But I won't, not tonight. Wish we were home, I don't want us to make the headlines for something like this"

"Fuck.." you chuckled, "God, no"

"Of course I won't anything like that happen" Chris assured you.

A wave of warmth and safety threatened to overcome you as you took in his words, but then, less than 10 seconds later, you felt a nudge against your opening. Your mouth instantly watered as he pushed himself in, his massive cock forcing your walls to spread beyond what you considered comfortable.

He filled you up in an instant, slamming himself balls deep into your pussy. The feeling was earth shattering, just like his heavy breathing. You knew he was in 7th heaven, and you absolutely adored being the source of his pleasure.

At first he didn't move, proceeding to rub your hips and reddened ass, while allowing your pussy to adjust to his size. You felt yourself pulse around his member, every indentation and vein amplifying the sensation.

"I'm sorry, doll, but I think you were made for me. Don't think there's any other pussy in this world that can take my cock like you do"

"Maybe I was" you teased as you rolled your hips back and forth, creating a minimal amount of friction.

Chris grunted, "Fuck-"

He grabbed your hips with force, suddenly his patience dissipating into thin air. It took you aback - the way he controlled your body. Chris picked up his pace, slamming his hips into you without holding back. The momentul had your body rocking back and forth, your hair falling over your face as you didn't have the energy to even keep your head up anymore.

"Fuck yourself with my cock" Chris commanded, letting go of your hips.

He slapped your thighs one more time, as your cue to start, and then gathered his hands behind his back.

That wasn't what you wanted. You loved it when he did all the work and you had no effort to make, and just allow yourself to enjoy the moment.

Barely managing to maintain your balance on your wobbly feet, you started grinding, slowly moving back and forth against his cock. You were doing a pathetic job and he was quick to object.

"Come on, Y/n-" he scoffed, slapping your ass with anger, "Ride my cock like you fucking mean it. Milk my cock like the slut you are"

His words went straight to your core, accentuating your arousal.

"Oh, oh!" Chris laughed, slapping your ass again, "Did your cunt seriously just clench around me?"

"Holy- urgh maybe" you grunted.

"Make me cum" he commanded.

This time, you didn't hold back.

White knuckling the edge of the sink, you found leverage and balance, now allowing you to move with ease. Slowly at first, but picking up your pace by the second, you rocked your body against his cock, your determination noticeable in the vigor of your movements.

And it was obvious that this time you were doing it right. So on point that Chris's heavy breathing and low grunts echoed above the redundant sound of your skin slapping into his. Catching a glimpse of his expression on the mirror, was proof that he was drowning in pure fucking pleasure. The ecstasy and awe was readable on his features.

And you kept going. Blocking out all sounds and surroundings, until a harsh buzz broke your concentration.

Looking down, next to your right hand, you saw Chris's phone ringing.

"Who- who the fuck is Elle N.?" you panted.

But he didn't care. It was as if your words never even reached him.

"Chris!?" you called again, this time stopping.

"What are you-" he began asking, but stopped when you shoved the phone into his hands.

"Who is that?" you asked.

"Publicist, who gives a-"

"Chris-" you said, "And I mean this with absolute seriousness, if TMZ bursts into the bathroom, cameras pointed at us, you're fucking done with me. It's all fun and games, until we show up on national TV"

He rolled his eyes, pure annoyance shining through his eyes. "What?" he yelled into the phone after accepting the call.

As he listened to the person on the other end of the line, his hand roamed over the curve of your ass, his fingers purposely applying pressure to the most inflamed areas.

You bit your lips in order to not make any sounds, but eventually started rolling your hips, determined to give him a piece of his own medicine.

Chris closed his eyes, and threw his head back, murmuring something under his breath that you couldn't quite make out. About 20 seconds later, he ended the call with a harsh, "Bite me"

"The fuck was that?" you asked.

"You have about 3 minutes to make me cum, otherwise you're in big fucking trouble"

"What?"

He nodded his head, somehow looking amused, "And you'll also end up on national TV"

"Jesus Christ-" you scoffed, determined to pull away and leave.

"Oh fuck no" he stopped you, slamming you back down. "I came here to fuck you, you best believe I'm gonna do it. Work that magic cunt and drain my balls now, Y/n"

"Chris-" you wanted to protest.

"None of that, you hear me?" he growled, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling you up, "Your time is running low. You've never fucking seen me actually angry. If we get to that, you're gonna regret it. Now, be a good little whore, and make me cum"

For the first time, you actually felt a surge of fear course through your body. "Ok" you muttered.

When he released you, you leaned back down, resumed your previous position, and started pumping yourself into his cock again. For you, it was doing the trick. The angle and the fear of getting caught fueled your senses, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

But for Chris, it didn't seem to be enough. As only a few seconds passed before he took control, framing your hips into his hands and handling your body to fit his needs. His pace was much more aggressive than what you had been doing, but it was also much more effective.

It was all a haze. Chris managed to send you falling down an endless spiral of pleasure, everything around you turning to blur. Your ears buzzed and your body was out of your control, muscles spasming unreasonably as you allowed yourself to get drunk with ecstasy.

When Chris finished too, mere seconds later, you thought you couldn't ever feel any better. He was quick to pull out, and move to the side to clean himself, but not before giving your ass a rewarding slap.

"Gotta go now," he said, fixing himself up.

You were still out of it, catching your breath as his cum dripped out of your pussy. "Yeah, I know, go"

As he did his belt, Chris involuntarily did a double take, "I'm sorry-" he said, his demeanor now unusually soft. "I wish I didn't have to-"

"It's fine-" you giggled, your voice low and breathy, "I'm still not 100% back, but I know you have to go, don't worry"

"Are you sure?" he asked, walking over to you and tilting your chin up, "I kinda feel like an asshole"

"I mean it" you said with a smile, "Plus, this is how we usually do it anyway, so it's nothing new. I don't know why you're so worried all of a sudden"

"Damn.. I really am an asshole.."

"Chris!"

"OK, I'll go" he said, advancing towards the door, "But I'll call you later, ok? I wanna talk to you about something"

"Yes, call me whenever you want. Now go"

"Bye" Chris spoke hurriedly as he rushed out, closing the door behind him.

Confusion seeped through your veins as you were left alone in the room. You studied your reflection in the mirror, and although looking disheveled with your hair a mess, you really did feel pretty. There was life on your features and it wasn't from the expensive makeup you had on.

But all that came in perfect contrast with how you were actually feeling. You felt alone, clingy, in need of cuddles from a person who has never actually given you any. It shook you, how this time, you felt entirely different from how you usually feel after your hookups with Chris.

But there was nothing to be done. You straightened your back and started rummaging through your purse, hoping the spare powder you always had on you would be able to cover the after sex glow you had going on.

As you worked on reapplying your face, the door opened and you instinctively turned away from it. You weren't in the mood.

"Y/n" a familiar voice called.

You looked up to see Chris sprinting towards you.

"What are you-"

"Fuck 'em. Fuck the cameras, fuck the interviews, fuck the labels, fuck the reporters"

"Wait, what-" you cringed, "Slow down, I don't understand"

He took a deep breath, "Fuck 'em"

"What happened?"

"Come on" he said, grabbing your hand, "Come with me"

"Um.. Chris? I don't think that's a good idea. My hair is all fucked and I'm pretty sure the eye shadow-"

"I don't know what you mean, you look absolutely gorgeous, perfect even-" Chris said, his eyes wide open and fixed on yours, "But that doesn't even matter, let's go home"

"I don't get it. People were looking for you"

"Who gives a shit? Do I give a shit? I don't give a shit!"

"Chris…"

"Seriously, Y/n-" he said, cupping your cheeks and bringing your face inches away from his, "I wanna make you dinner. I have that gross white wine you like so much even though I don't understand how you can drink that shit. And I'll run a bath, I don't have bath bombs but I think conditioner works too-"

"It doesn't"

"Eh then we'll just smell nice" Chris said in a heartbeat. "And then I'll eat you out into fucking oblivion, yeah? Doesn't that sound good? Better than boring interviews and that movie I'm barely even in"

It was all just too much to process. "What changed? I-"

"Nothing changed" he shook his head, "I always wanted to do this. I thought that if I brought you to this event things would develop between us somehow. I don't know why I thought that. Don't ask. And that's why I told you to come into the bathroom. But then I was too shy to say anything and then I left and things were exactly where they were when we got here and I said that-"

"Chris?"

"Yeah?" he sighed, catching his breath.

"Shut up and let's see how good you can cook"

#chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans writing #chris evans one shot #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale imagine #steve rogers imagine

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lovetenya · 3 years

Text

✧ 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚 𝐢𝐢𝐝𝐚’𝐬 𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭

warnings: none.

word count: 3k

author’s note: this constantly switches between you and tenya dating at UA and typical married domestic life. i’m writing this during my break from my color series. i’m still writing it, and still going to finish it, don’t worry. also, if this is your alphabet prompt, i’m sorry for not crediting you! i don’t remember where this is from!

A - Attractive (What do they find most attractive in a person and about you?)

personality-wise, i think tenya would gravitate toward someone that is intuitive, trustworthy, and kind-hearted.

someone who isn’t going to tease about the things that hurt him, or question the things he holds nearest to his heart.

someone who would patch him up after a long day, help him with his arm, and hold his face in their hands.

someone who knows when to push, and when to release.

when to prod him with questions, encouraging him to share more, but not arguing and making him feel ashamed for his ambitions.

someone who will be gentle with him, and respect that he is a hero for all the right reasons and does it because he has to

i’m not doing physical appearance because it REALLY bothers me when people hc characters with a certain type.

to me, it feels like it’s made with the intention to leave people out, but...

do whatever you want, i guess.

B - Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why Not? How big?)

tenya definitely wants a family

i think he would have 4-6 kids, to keep it even have a big, strong family

he grew up with siblings and loves them to death, so it only fits that he would want the same thing for his kids

but he wouldn’t pressure his kids into being heroes or into doing anything related to hero work, because he can understand how intimidating and suffocating that expectation is

it scares him to think that he could get killed by a villain and have to leave them behind, but he does his best every day so that he can come home to you and all the little iidas

C - Cuddle (Do they like to cuddle? How do they like to cuddle most?)

honestly? i’m not really sure that tenya would like cuddling that much at first, but i think he’d do it for his significant other and it would grow on him.

i don’t feel like he’d be very cuddly or overly affectionate physically, but would do it to comfort and care for you.

i do think that he likes to hold you and keep you safe in his arms, so i do think that if you were gonna cuddle, he’d hold you close to his chest and wrap his arms around you so that he can press kisses to ur forehead (awww <3)

or he’d be the big spoon :>

don’t even kid yourself trying to be the big spoon, although he’s only 5′10″ i know that if you’re reading this you are NOT taller than him. don’t lie to me.

D - Date (Ideal date?)

tenya’s ideal date would be a quiet date away from others, maybe in a library for a study date.

OR A BOOKSTORE AND A COFFEE SHOP

oh my gosh and he’d carry your books while you keep walking around and looking at other ones

E - Energetic (How energetic are they?)

he’s up early for work, but comes home tired. he tries to stay up to talk after dinner, but as the days get longer, his energy wavers more.

i think he’s use to being up for long periods of time, but if he can relax, i think he’ll take that chance to fall asleep on the couch next to you.

F - Fight (How are they in a fight?)

if you’re fighting, he’s wants it to be fixed. he’s not interested in dramatics, or spite, or pettiness.

if he did something wrong, you know he’ll apologize profusely and try his best to give you space, if you need it. if not, he’ll comfort you and reassure you that he didn’t mean it that way, or that he didn’t think before he said it.

if you did something wrong, an apology will help. though sometimes the words hurt more than he’d like to admit, he believes you when you tell him that you’re sorry, and he’s willing to move on from it.

i don’t think there would ever be a real, blown up fight, because he’s not one to overreact. yes, there will be arguments on whether he’s being taken advantage of by the agency (he is) and he’ll assert that he doesn’t care, because it isn’t about him anyway.

G - Gifts (How do they feel about gifts? How do they give them?)

he doesn’t really see the reason for receiving gifts, because he isn’t materialistic in the slightest. he’d rather you give him your all and your love than a tangible gift, but he won’t refuse anything

that’s rude

he grew up with everything he needed, so he never developed emotional attachment to items, but he loves giving them to other people and seeing how his small generosity can cause so much happiness in others

he’s definitely a meaningful and thoughtful gift giver, and puts a lot of effort into it to make sure it’s perfect

H - Honesty (How honest are they? Do they keep secrets?)

he’s incredibly honest, but will sometimes downplay his physical pain so that you don’t worry about him

he’s not going to lie and say “it doesn’t hurt at all!” but i can definitely see him acting tough and saying “it was just a scratch” when he actually got stabbed or something HAHA

(i hate when people only characterize him in relation to his family and how he has a heightened sense of honor, because that’s only a part of who he is. he’s not honest or heroic just because of his family, he does it because it’s the right thing to do. by making honor his only personality trait, you’re kind of playing into a false stereotype, and i’m not gonna call you what i want to call you, just know that your bad writing in your simplification of the culture as a whole is genuinely annoying to me in that aspect)

...

moving on

he doesn’t have any reason to keep secrets from his significant other. he wants to be able to trust you with anything and have you trust him right back, so he’s an open book for you.

if you ask him, he will tell you, regardless of what the question is

I - Injury (How do they react if you get injured?)

IT DEPENDS HOW IT HAPPENED

if you hurt yourself around the house and it wasn’t serious, he’d make sure you were okay and then laugh, saying “you should really be more careful.”

but if it was serious, (say, villain related?)

J - Jealousy (Are they the jealous type? How do they deal with it?)

he’s not the jealous type, because he isn’t insecure and trusts you too much to suspect anything like cheating

i think if you were trying to make him jealous, he’d ask why you were doing that when you knew he’d give you affection whenever you want. he’s just confused.

K - Kiss (Their favorite way to kiss you?)

his favorite way to kiss you is away from others. pda isn’t his thing.

iida knows his strength, so he’s gentle.

he’ll lift your chin with his hand and press soft kisses to your lips and cheeks

or he’ll hold your face in both of his hands and bring you real close

(you can put your hands on his chest)

(he likes it)

L - Love Confession (How did they confess their love?)

he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he tried to be as respectful as possible

i think uraraka and midoriya would scout and interrogate you to see if you like him first

“WHAT’S HIS FAVORITE COLOR, Y/N? DO YOU KNOW?”

as if that’s an indicator

i think he’d give you a letter confessing because he was afraid his presence would be too intimidating for you to give a real answer

it would be very sweet and to the point

M - Mean (What are they like when they’re mean? Is it common?)

when he’s mean, it’s because he feels like he’s not meeting expectations or fulfilling his goals and he gets frustrated

it really isn’t about you but your distractions certainly aren’t helping his focus

i don’t think he’d full on yell at you, he’d just get pissy and ask you to “please let me get my work done”

it’s not really common, because he’s not usually behind on his work

N - Nicknames (Do they have nicknames for you? What are their favorites for them?)

i can’t see him do any of the goofy or overly affectionate ones like.. baby or something

probably just sweetheart, darling, my love, etc. or your first name bc even that feels like a lot to him

??? i don’t really know what he’d call you

but i think it’s cute to call him tenya, ten, honey, baby, etc.

he needs to be taken care of so just anything sweet and i think he’d be flustered

and ingenium (because it would annoy him HAHA)

O - Open (How long did it take for them to open up to you?)

i think that he’d hold back for the most part until he’s sure you’re serious about him and you’re not going to make fun of him for his deepest feelings

if he’s dating you, he expects that he’s able to trust you, so i think he would be relatively easy in opening up to you

P - Proposal (How would they propose? Would they propose at all?)

WOOOOOOOO

he would propose. duh.

he would plan it months in advance and have the perfect ring picked out for you, but he could barely wait to propose

i don’t think he’d propose on a dating anniversary, because that day is supposed to be special on its own, and he doesn’t want to take away from that

i think he’d take you out to dinner, and have the ring in his pocket, but wait until you got home to propose so that everyone in the restaurant wouldn’t make a scene about it

you’re confused when he holds two items behind his back and asks you to choose which one you wanted first

he’s not usually playful like this, but you play along

you pick the ring first, and he suggests that you pick the other one

it’s three roses (that means “i love you”)

shameless self promo... i talked about that in another one where tensei says that iida should get you that for valentine’s day, finally tenya listened

and then when you ask “what’s in the other hand?”

he gets down on one knee

congrats, honey <3

Q - Quiet (What are quiet moments like with them?)

i have a draft on this waiting for me to work on it, but sure i’ll give you something

quiet moments with tenya are comfortable.

sitting under a blanket together on the couch while he types away at his laptop

the look on his face when you take the first bite of dinner together, and he was nervous to try the new recipe, but you were sure it’d be okay

how he always, always, waits for you to finish eating before he gets up to start cleaning up dinner

(he’ll compliment your cooking even if you think it turned out awful)

(even if it did, he doesn’t know how to use a potato peeler, so he can’t really say much in that department)

the quiet moments of intimacy where he hands you a jar of spices that comes next on the recipe

or where he tucks your hair behind your ear

or bends down to tire your shoe for you

R - Rainy Day (What are they like in the rain?)

he holds the umbrella with his left hand and your hand in his right

makes sure you don’t get wet, and tries not to let his glasses get wet

tenya would kiss you in the rain, but under the eave of a building or an overhang where he can do it the right way.

S - Sad (How do they handle their sadness? How do they react to yours?)

he handles his sadness by writing in a journal or he likes reading books from his younger days to make him feel better

he bottles his emotions, but not because he wants to, he just accidentally neglects his emotions because he’s too busy with other things

i think he would talk to you about it if you asked, but he wouldn’t bring up his emotions

if it was you?

he would react very kindly to your sadness, and he would try to be as comforting as possible without forcing you to talk about it

but of course he’d listen if you wanted to, and offer his support and advice if you wanted it

he would drop everything for you, putting his pen down the moment he sees your eyes brimming with tears

and he’d pull you to his chest and whisper words of adoration and hold you until you feel better <3

T - Time (How long did it take for you to get together?)

maybe like three months to start dating while the two of you were at UA, just because he wanted to make sure you were interested in him before he came on too strong

he would ask you to be his sparring partner just so that he could compliment you <3

he’d let you win that day, but would NEVER admit that regardless of how long you’ve been together/married

he just says that you bested him that day, so he’s been the best for you ever since

damn, that was cheesy, tenya.

love is super gross

moving on

U - Unique (What’s an interesting thing about them that not a lot of people know about?)

i can either go super angsty with this one or just go normal

hm. i’ll spare you.

not a lot of people know that tenya plays the piano!

he learned when he was young because his parents insisted it would make him more well-rounded, but he quit taking lessons early on and just taught himself from then on

he likes the predictability of music, and how really it’s just a pattern if you think about it, it’s just where to and where not to play

someone requested that i write the angst version, and you can find it here !

V - Value (What are some of the things they value most in life? value most about you?)

he values respect, integrity, and dedication.

he cares that you respect him and everything he works for, but encourages you to let him know if you ever notice a hint of self-interest in his hero work

he doesn’t want to ever become a corrupt hero and lost his integrity

he values your honesty and your ability to make everything more fun

he finds fun in quiet, intimate moments, but he loves how you still find him in the loud, chaotic moments, and make sure he’s okay.

he also values the fact that you’re so understanding of how important hero work is to him, and how he has to put his life on the line.

you know that he has to stay at the agency or on patrol late sometimes, but you’d never ask him to stop, because you know he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if someone was left unprotected because he was home

W - Wildcard (random fluff headcanon)

i don’t know i saved this one for last

i just wrote 25 others though, why don’t you read those?

kidding...

tenya loves dad jokes because they’re meant to be taken literally and he loves seeing the disappointed look on your face

“honey, do you want to help me with dinner? i’m hungry.”

“hi, hungry, i’m tenya iida, also known as in-”

“STOP”

“it’s always lovely to meet my admirers! i hope to inspire many great heroes!”

but he hates puns and will sigh deeply without laughing at all

“that was awful, y/n.”

“HAHAHA”

X - XO (Are they affectionate with hugs and kisses? If not, are they in other ways?)

at ua, he’s not really affectionate with hugs and kisses yet

he’ll show affection by patiently going over that stubborn math problem again and not getting upset when you ask him to repeat the formula again

or he’ll remember to ask you about the plotline in the book you’re reading or how your favorite show is going

and he’ll offer to buy your lunch or bring you a special snack from his secret supply in his room :)

as your relationship progresses, he’s more physically affectionate behind closed doors, but it’s not a common thing and he isn’t clingy about it

when you’re married, he’s also affectionate in other ways, like he’ll do meal prep for you to make dinner easier for you to make, because he knows it’s hard to wait for him to get home and eat so late

or he’ll do that laundry you’ve been too busy to get to

he’ll go all out every once in a while, but he knows making life a little easier and a little sweeter sometimes sticks with you

Y - Yearn (How do they deal with yearning?)

he didn’t yearn for you for long at UA, because he just... realized he had a crush and then decided to pursue you, but i’m sure it was hard to get over the initial “oh, shoot” of realizing he has a crush when he’s at UA to become the best hero he can be

he feels his love for you more intensely than he’s ever felt love before, and he’s not exactly sure what to do with your name constantly plaguing his mind.

i think he’d work a little harder in school and in training because he wants so badly to have a good, long life with you, and for everything to be perfect

he’ll get what he wants, because he works hard for it, and you’re willing to support his dreams

Z - Zen (What makes them calm?)

quiet evenings, quilts, candles, cooking together, soft music playing in the backgroud, looking at photos from your wedding, daydreaming about your future together, reading, and coming home to you after a long day.

✧ hope you liked this! it was super fun to write and it was cool to think about tenya in all of these different ways.

love, tj 🦢

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 3 years

Text

Better Now

A Bla/ck Tap/es podcast sickfic.

I have so many wonderful prompts in my inbox but the only thing I wanted to write was this wildly self-indulgent and overly long fic that's jam-packed with all my favorite tropes. I blame @matilda3948 for her recent amazing Dr. Strand sickfics for inspiration and @sanquintina for getting me into the podcast in the first place

This is technically Bl/ack Ta/pes fanfic, but you don't need to know anything about the series other than Dr. Strand is a persnickety, serious, stoic, skeptic with a very deep voice and troubled past.

Set after the end of the series as it stands currently and written in 1st person from the perspective of Strand's unnamed female partner. Could be Alex if you want, could be someone else with whom Strand finally found happiness and contentment. I kept that part generic on purpose.

Richard Strand is many things, but clumsy isn't one of them. So naturally I had to go investigate when early one morning I was startled by the sound of a tea mug shattering on the floor followed by a hastily bitten-off swear word.

In the kitchen I found my husband, the world renowned Dr. Strand, kneeling on the floor mopping up spilled tea. He glanced up with a sniffle as he heard me approach.

"Had it too close to the edge. At least it missed my pants. I think I got all the ceramic bits, but be careful."

His voice was even deeper than usual, low and gravelly from the cold he'd been developing over the past few days. That, paired with his heavy, reddened eyes and generally haggard appearance, gave me concern.

"You look like you hardly slept. How are you feeling?"

"I tossed and turned a bit last night. Couldn't get comfortable."

"Couldn't breathe I think would be more accurate. You were snoring and breathing through your mouth all night."

He sat back on his heels and frowned. "Sorry if I kept you up."

"You don't have to apologize. I'm just worried about you," I added as he winced when he stood, massaging the space between his eyebrows.

He shot me another irritated glance. "I'm fine. I just have a bit of a cold." I couldn't help but notice the weary slump of his shoulders, however. Even his suit looked less crisp than usual.

I summoned all my wifely tact and tried to make my voice persuasive: "Maybe you should stay home. You don't look like you'll be much use to anyone today."

He made an annoyed sound. "That's very unnecessary. I'm not staying home for a cold."

I looked pointedly out the window where a chilly November rain was pouring down steadily. "You really want to go out into that when you have a perfectly valid excuse not to?"

He too glanced out the window. After a moment he shook his head and cleared his throat, meeting my eyes again. "I'll be fine. It's just a little rain."

He headed toward the door, massaging his forehead once more.

"Don't you want your tea?"

"Oh, right." He whirled around quickly, grabbed the thermos, and headed toward the door again with a wet sniffle. I could only roll my eyes and sigh as the door closed behind him.

Most workdays I left after him and returned before him, and this Thursday was no exception. The rain was still pouring down when I arrived home from work that evening. I decided dinner was going to be vegetable stew and biscuits, not only for his cold, but also because I wanted some rainy November comfort food. Everything was nearly ready when I heard him coming up the steps. He opened the door, bringing with him a chilly gust, and I turned to greet him, but instead my mouth dropped open a bit at the sight of him.

His hair and clothes were completely soaked with rain, to the point of dripping puddles onto the floor as I watched, and he was visibly shivering, something I'd never seen him do before. Inexplicably, he was also shaking the loose drops off of his soaked umbrella, his expression drawn and miserable. I was noticing how diminished he seemed when suddenly his breath hitched violently:

"HehZIHH'shiew! HrrUUHHZchoo! HehhGIHH'nkkchoo!"

I rushed to his side, relieving him of his umbrella and briefcase and pulling his sodden coat off of him as he slumped down onto the nearby stool. Beneath the coat, his suit was nearly just as wet and cold.

"Oh, Richard, bless you! You're soaked to the skin. Ugh, and your hands are freezing. How did you manage to get so drenched?"

"A w-woman and her ch-children were w-waiting for the b-bus without c-coats. I held my umbrella f-for them until it c-came," he said, his teeth chattering and his lips blue with cold.

I toweled off his hair and clothes as best as I could before helping him undress. Any other day he would have brushed me off, saying he was perfectly capable of doing that himself. The fact that he allowed me to assist him spoke volumes to how poorly he felt.

I was behind him, trying to peel off his sodden linen shirt when he lurched forward for another volley of sneezes:

"HrrUUSCHH! HnnxXT! HHGGTchh!"

"Bless you again, poor love. You've made your cold worse going out in this," I gently chastised.

"I'm f-fine," he sniffled, still barely able to speak around his shivering. Yet he leaned back against me wearily as I removed his undershirt and replaced it with a blanket, and I thought I heard the softest hint of a groan.

I used my fingers to comb his disheveled hair, but frowned when I felt his forehead. "You're running a fever. You weren't feverish this morning."

He merely shrugged, wordlessly asking me to continue massaging his scalp, which I did. Slowly his shivers subsided, but he was clearly exhausted, and sniffled wetly every few moments.

"You look like you could use a hot drink and a warm bed," I said eventually.

"I'd start with a hot shower," came the mumbled reply.

"Hmm… what about a hot bath? I was thinking of taking one myself tonight, and I'm willing to share. No reason to waste the hot water. Dinner will keep for a bit longer."

He turned slightly, giving me a curious look. It wasn't that we had never bathed together before, but it was usually under very different circumstances. However, I happened to know my husband craved physical touch when he wasn't feeling well, though he would never ask for it. I was simply making life easier on both of us by preemptively offering it.

"I suppose that might be nice," he finally said. "But I'm very tired…."

I kissed his cheek. "No strings attached. Bath only. Then dinner and sleep. No funny business, I promise."

He relaxed slightly. "That's fine then."

"Good. Let me go run the water." I kissed his hair once more, then headed to the bathroom. He joined me there with a cup of tea after a few minutes. While the oversized tub finished filling, he leaned in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck and looking distant and hazy, not to mention sick.

I shimmied off my clothes and slid into the water, gesturing for him to join me. He sluggishly obeyed, hampered in finishing his own undressing by his dripping nose. He set his mug of tea and a handkerchief on the little table beside the tub, then slid into the water in front of me.

His sigh of ecstasy as the hot water surrounded him was exactly what I hoped to hear, and he leaned back against me readily with a satisfied groan.

"Better?" I murmured in his ear.

"Much," came the rumbling reply, followed of course by a sniffle.

I pressed my lips into his hair again and again. He hardly moved as the heat soaked into him. I let my nails trail all over his skin and gave him a gentle massage, trying to help him relax, a feat he was rarely able to accomplish on his own

"Would you like me to wash your hair?" I murmured after a while.

He gave the barest nod in reply. Wordlessly I did just that, something else he would never consider allowing in any other circumstance.

I kept the soap far from his face, but the fragrance still had its way with him. I had nearly all the suds rinsed out when he suddenly jerked forward and leaned over the edge of the tub.

GihhIIISSHH'UH! Hhigg'CHUH! HihYEHSH'ooo!" He directed the spray as far away from me as he could, grabbing for the handkerchief to catch as much of the mess as possible. He mopped his face with a growl as he slid back into the water, but the spell was broken. He fidgeted against me, sniffling in irritation again and again as I finished rinsing his hair.

I suppressed a disappointed sigh. "You might feel better if you went and laid down now that you're warmed up. Get yourself a bowl of soup while I finish up here."

He grunted his assent, lifting himself out of the water and quickly toweling off as he began to shiver again right away. He donned his robe, took his tea, and went to get his supper.

The evening came to a quick close after that. Richard ate a small portion of soup, drank two mugs of tea, and refused any medication, but did little else. He wouldn't be described as loquacious on his best day, but he spoke even less than usual. The only noise he made was the occasional soft cough or explosive trio of sneezes and his perpetual sniffles as he attempted his usual evening reading. His eyes never lost their weary, hazy look though, and he was constantly shaking his head or wiping a knuckle under his nose, so I wondered how much he was actually absorbing.

When I suggested we go to bed, he didn't argue though, which was very unlike him. He fell into bed wearily, and it seemed he was asleep even before his head hit the pillow. I silently wished to myself as I drifted to sleep that he would either be recovered in the morning, or else have the sense to stay home if he was worse.

~~~~~~~~~~

Richard's alarm went off at the usual hour the next morning, and he shut it off right away. Normally he was out of bed in moments, but today he lingered, pulling the blankets closer around himself with a little groan.

I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but he continued to shift restlessly. After a moment, I heard him take a wheezy inhale and then break into a coughing fit, wet and hoarse. I turned to look at him again. He was on his back now, with an arm flung over his eyes.

"Aww, love," I murmured. "You ok?"

"I'm not feeling quite like myself," came the mumbled reply.

I reached out to stroke his cheek, letting my hand rest on his neck where I could feel his hugely swollen lymph nodes. He was well and truly sick now, and he needed to stay home from work. However, I couldn't be the one to suggest that, or else he would turn me down immediately and insist he was fine, as he had the day before. It needed to be his idea. I went with a different approach.

I nestled close to his side, kissing his shoulder softly. I could tell he was still feverish even through his clothes. "Busy day today?" I murmured.

He grunted wearily. I couldn't tell if it was affirmative or negative.

"I packed a big bowl of soup for your lunch. I hope it's enough to keep you full through the whole day. And don't forget, I'll meet you at your coworker's reception tonight. Was there anything I needed to bring to that?"

He slowly uncovered his face. "I was… actually considering staying home from work. It shouldn't be busy today, I can afford to miss. And… I'm really not feeling well at all. I'll make our excuses to John about his reception.

I did a silent victory dance in my head. "Oh, are you sure? I thought you had some important meetings."

"Nothing that can't be rescheduled." He cracked a red eye open, glancing at me suspiciously. "Why? Do you want me to go in?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, kissing him again. "I want you to do what you think is best. If you're not feeling well, you ought to stay home so you don't risk getting other people sick though."

"I suppose." He coughed hoarsely again, rubbing his chest with a grimace. "Yes, I'll stay home today. Let me call Carol and John."

He slowly stood and made his unsteady way to his phone, sniffling and coughing the whole way. The two phone conversations were very brief, for he hardly had to try to make a case for his illness, congested and hoarse as he clearly was. After he finished the calls, he shuffled back to bed immediately, heaping the blankets back over himself with a shuddering cough. I rubbed his back as he got settled.

"Can I get you anything, hon? Water, medicine?"

He shook his head. "Going to try to sleep this off," he mumbled, sleep already (or still?) heavy in his voice.

I knew medicine would almost certainly help his endeavors at sleeping. At minimum it would improve the quality of his sleep. However, I also knew he was stubborn about such things, so I didn't press the issue yet. "Alright." I kissed his hot cheek gently. "Then I'll leave you be for now. Let me know if you need anything. Sleep well."

I made the bed around him, straightening my side and tucking him in, then quietly left. The sound of his deep snores followed me out. So much for me sleeping in today.

He emerged again later that morning. I didn't notice him at first when he did, though. I had my headphones in and was dancing around while dusting. Turning around, I almost bumped into him, scaring us both. I yanked my headphones off right away, taking in his disheveled, sickly, blanket-wrapped appearance.

"You're awake! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come out."

"Clearly," he rasped with the tiniest ghost of a smile. "You stayed home too?"

"It's my normal Friday off."

"Right, right," he sniffled. He then shuffled to the couch, collapsing onto it with a yawn. I went to sit beside him, unable to keep the concern from my face. I felt his forehead again, noting how he wearily leaned into the touch. I was forced to jump back though as he erupted into a volley of thick, chesty coughs.

I sighed, surveying him with worry. "You're running quite the fever, love. And the cold has obviously settled into your chest now too."

He nodded limply with another sniffle.

"I'm not taking no for an answer this time, I'm giving you medicine and you're going to take it."

He managed to fix me with a condescending look. "Medication for a cold is essentially pointless. It just treats the symptoms."

"You think making yourself more comfortable is pointless?"

He opened his mouth to answer, or so I thought, but instead he lurched forward into a trio of wet, spraying sneezes:

"Heh'YEISSHH'oo! YEEIISH'uuh! Gih'HIH-shoo! --ugh…" The forceful snapping motion of his head when he sneezed looked incredibly painful, so much so that he pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead with a groan in the aftermath.

"Bless you, hon!" I waited a beat as he composed himself. "So… what was it again you were saying about the futility of treating the symptoms?" I asked, admittedly snidely.

He only grunted softly. I couldn't keep the smug look from my face when he met my eyes once more. However, seeing how thoroughly miserable he was reawakened my sympathy immediately. I reached out to caress his hair and cheek yet again.

"How about I make you some tea, yeah? And maybe a bowl of soup?"

"Please," he mumbled.

"Coming right up."

Another round of his thick, exhausting coughs followed me into the kitchen, and I couldn't help but wince in sympathy, even though he couldn't see me.

In a matter of minutes I had his meal ready. When I brought it back out to him, I placed the soup on the table and dropped a handful of pills and a capful of medication beside the bowl with a meaningful look. His only reply was a small frown. I resumed my seat beside him and was about to hand him the steaming mug when an idea occurred to me.

"Is your throat hurting badly?"

He nodded heavily with a little scowl, as if he hated being reminded of it.

"Here, this may help a bit." I raised the mug to the level of his neck, pressing it against his visibly enlarged lymph node.

His eyes widened and he half-jumped back from the initial sensation.

"Trust me for a sec," I said gently, placing it against the swelling once more.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, but allowed it. After a moment though he visibly loosened. Making a sound between a whimper and a groan, he leaned harder against the heat.

"Better?"

"Mhmmmm," he sighed.

After another moment I switched to the other side of his neck and repeated the process. He angled himself here and there to get the most heat coverage over the tender areas. Finally I slid the mug into his hands, kissing his forehead.

"Thank you," he breathed. "That was… relieving."

"You're very welcome. Now, can I do anything else for you at the moment?"

"I'm fine. You don't need to fuss."

"I may not have to, but I want to, first because you're my husband and second because I know you're not 'fine.' But if you're going to insist you are, I'm going to go fold some laundry. Holler if you need anything. Or cough loudly if that's easier."

That earned me a Dr. Strand signature, the 'amused huff.' "I will. Thank you again."

"No thanks necessary." He received another kiss to the temple before I stood and headed to the laundry room with a last pointed look at the medicine. It occurred to me as I walked away that I was likely giving him an overabundance of kisses considering how contagious he clearly was, but he was just so darn pitiful.

Twenty minutes later, I returned to check on him, bringing a glass of water as well. The tea mug and soup bowl sat empty on the coffee table, surrounded by a few scattered tissues. The medicine was untouched. The doctor was huddled to one side of the couch with another tissue held loosely in his hand and one pajama-clad leg tucked under him, staring listlessly at the wall. However, at the sound of my footsteps he stirred with a sickly sniffle, scrubbing a hand over his face wearily. I smiled in greeting, and though he didn't return the smile, he did brighten a bit upon seeing me.

"What were you contemplating so deeply just now? You looked very lost in thought," I asked, handing him the water, then tidying up his little mess on the coffee table, leaving the pills.

He huffed a humorless laugh, looking self-conscious as he fiddled with the glass. "I was actually imagining how extensive the trial and error process must have been to determine how best to brew tea versus brewing coffee versus, for example, brewing beer. Roasting the ingredients versus drying versus fresh versus ground and boiling versus steeping versus fermenting. The amount of time that must have been necessary to perfect something so simple is rather astounding," he rasped, with many sniffles and throat-clearings thrown in.

I raised an eyebrow at him curiously. Aimless ramblings about random topics were not the norm for my painfully disciplined husband. "It is astounding I guess. I'd never thought about that before. Anyway, how are you feeling after eating?"

"I'm fine," he said, finally setting down the untouched water, though the nasty cough that immediately followed his statement contradicted him.

This time I audibly sighed. "You do realize that you saying you're fine all the time is very counterproductive to helping me assess your needs? You don't have to be fine, love."

He gave me an odd look. "Conceptually, I know that. But you have to remember, for a long time I *did* have to be 'fine.' I didn't have the option to be otherwise. You, all of this… still feels like a new development or a dream at times. Old habits die hard, I suppose."

I sat on the arm of the couch beside him. He wordlessly leaned in toward me so I could lightly run my fingernails over his scalp. He softly groaned in pleasure.

"I'm not going to waste my breath telling you that I'm not going anywhere and I'm here for you, because you already know that. So I suppose I'll just have to keep showing you."

I went to press a kiss to his head, but I caught a glimpse of his face and changed my mind when I saw he was about to sneeze.

"Gihh'chuuh! Hehh'choof! Ghnxt'choo!"

The sneezes were brisk and wet and left him breathless. He blew his nose with a wince before he spoke. "Sorry, could you repeat that? I missed most of it," he said, sounding stuffy and a little peeved.

I chuckled and complied, going for the kiss this time. He had no reply, but instead leaned against me wearily as I massaged his neck, yawning deeply.

"You should rest again, love. Take a nap if you can. It's either that or watch TV, which you'll never do. I'm not sure you should attempt much else."

He wrinkled his nose. "I hate being so unproductive. I don't want to sleep the day away."

"Sleeping when you're sick isn't being unproductive, it's being wise."

"HehhGIH'choo! HEHHH-choo! Hihhh'YESSHH'uuhh!"

I was quite sure he didn't hear most of my statement, since he sneezed right in the middle of it. With a pitiful sound he tended to his nose yet again as I blessed him earnestly. Eventually his watery, heavy lidded eyes met mine. I couldn't help but notice yet again how flushed and disheveled he was and how utterly pathetic he looked, quite the opposite of his usual cool, collected self.

"Guh. Sorry. What was that?" he asked with a pathetic sniffle, sounding very annoyed now.

"Aww, your nose. You really are sick, huh? Poor guy," I said, continuing to stroke his hair.

He looked slightly offended. "You were having doubts about that?"

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "It's just something you say, dear.

"I'm aware of the colloquialism," he grumped. "But I find it a very odd one. And it's never been directed at me before."

"There's a first time for everything, then."

I was rubbing his back now. He yawned again, grimacing after, I assumed due to the sore throat. I also noticed he was starting to shiver.

"Ok, now seriously, tell me what I need to do to convince you to nap."

"I'm not sure," he said with a chesty cough, nestling deeper into the couch.

"Hmm. I accept that challenge."

"And what challenge is that?"

"You won't tell me what I can do to help you, and perhaps you don't even know yourself, so I have to figure that out for both of us."

"I don't think there's anything I need though."

"You need to sleep."

He rolled his eyes with an annoyed huff, but I could tell he knew I was right.

I stood and went to put some smooth jazz on the record player in the room. Sitting down again, this time on the couch on the other side of him, I gestured to my lap.

"Come lie down."

"Wait-- lie down… right there?"

"Correct."

"Why?"

"Because you love hair scratches and neck rubs, so I'm making it easier to give them to you. Also you're apparently freezing and need to share some body heat."

He frowned, suppressing his shivers as best he could. Still, I knew he wouldn't be able to resist for long, tired and miserable as he was. Sure enough, after a moment he slowly levered himself down with a resigned sigh.

I quickly threw a blanket over him, and then began the hair scratches. He made a tiny, appreciative sound.

"Better?"

"Mm," he grunted.

"Good. But you're sweating, love," I murmured.

"I'm not sure how since I'm freezing," he mumbled with a cough.

"Your fever is higher. I can feel it just by touching you."

He groaned, snuggling deeper against me.

I massaged his neck for a while longer, trying to ease the tension from his muscles. He continued to be restless though, and apparently unable to regulate his body temperature. One moment he would be shaking with chills pulling the blanket closer, and then the next kicking it away from his legs with a moan of discomfort.

The final straw for me was when he was overcome with yet another hacking coughing fit, curling in on himself miserably, trying to muffle it into his arm, the other hand clutching his chest.

Before he settled again, I leaned forward to grab the untouched pile of medication and glass of water from the coffee table. When he was again lying against me, I wordlessly held it out to him. He of course made a sound of irritation.

"Why are you being so stubborn? You need to sleep, and you can't sleep in the state you're in, at least not well. This will help your headache, fever, sore throat, everything so you can rest. I can tell you're exhausted."

After a final moment of consideration, he held out a reluctant hand. I handed him the items and he swallowed them without comment.

Neither of us spoke again for a long time, and didn't move from our places. I soothingly stroked his hair or rubbed his back, putting myself in a trance almost as much as him.

I could see the medication talking effect. His restlessness slowly eased along with his coughing. It seemed I could even feel his body temperature decreasing.

"Hnnkkt'CHUH! Hehgg'CHUHH! EHHG'choo!"

Just as I thought he was asleep, his body twitched with a trio of sneezes, the quality of which could only be described as lazy--slow, thick, and dulled. They hardly seemed to stir him from his stupor.

"Bless you. Are you ok?"

" 'm fine," he croaked tiredly. We were both quiet for a while, then he spoke up again. "You know, one of the reasons I keep saying I'm fine is because I can't begin to describe what an improvement it is to be with you while being sick compared to being sick in bed alone. The difference is as drastic as night and day--better doesn't begin to describe it. Asking for anything more than what I already have just by your being here feels selfish."

Richard would never express such sentiments under normal circumstances, and hearing it said so plainly overwhelmed me with emotion. Yet I knew he wouldn't want me to reply in kind. He would prefer to state his piece and let it be. And indeed, I saw his eyes drooping heavier by the second, so I kept my thoughts to myself for now, but leaned over to plant a series of kisses all over his hot face.

He hardly moved and didn't respond even when I finally stopped, but I couldn't help but notice the tiny smile playing around his lips as he drifted off to sleep.

#Sickness #sicknario #sickfic #snzblr #snzario #snzfic #everyone is hotter with a fever

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strangestcase · 3 years

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Genuine question, which jokers do you think are the most well written. I’m just getting into Batman and it’d be nice to hear a perspective that recognizes particular nuance due to a certain amount of insight that comes with being queer

Okay!

Disclaimer: I don’t read comics. I’m a fake fan. /hj but seriously I haven’t read many Batman comics (yet) so I’ll try to just... sum it up v quickly, with my (somewhat limited) opinions on th matter:

-Lego Batman Movie: personally the best Joker. Well written, very VERY queer coded, and light hearted, but still evil. I love his design. This Joker is the Joker that has rescued the trope of the queer coded villain but this time in a more positive light. He’s a trickster, and we’re supposed to be annoyed at him, not scared of him. Annoyed in a cute endearing way. Otherwise I’d say this Joker is written to be a caricature of the OG character in a way that children can understand, so the movie didn’t try to be overly convoluted about his relationship with Batman, and they just straight up said, yup it’s gay

-Dark Night: While the queer coding (and the humor, mostly) is a bit lost in translation, all the “Batman completes me fuhuhuhu” moments are a very good summary of what makes the character such a great villain. Also he’s TERRIFYING. Great acting (RIP Heath Ledger) and great writing. If you want a more serious, less clownish take on the Joker, this one makes it right.

-Killing Joke: very very edgy and fucked up, but also a very good character study. The point of the Joker is that he doesn’t have a meaningful backstory- he’s just a murder clown. His backstory just happened to him. And the Killing Joke makes a very good job at exploiting it. Does h even remember it? did it even happen? unreliable narrator, flashbacks, monologues- it’s a very good Joker. Otherwise the story is a bit meh (and it fridged Barbara, boo!). Read the comic- the movie adaptation sucks ass.

-any animated jokers, really, will be VERY well written, mostly because animation is (wrongly) seen as child only media. Animated jokers don’t rely on murder so much to be scary, to the point they’re even WORSE, which is pretty good in my opinion. any joker voiced by Mark Hamill is going to be a treat. Check out the Batman animated series Joker, who is a piece of shit in every conceivable way and freezes his victims with neurotoxin, or the 2004 Matsuda show Joker, who is literally a feral clown.

-the Lego DC supervillains game Joker is also very fun, and a wonderful tribute to the character’s history too. And he’s semi-decent to Harley which is pretty sweet. Also voiced by Mark Hamill! meanwhile the TellTale Games Joker is... Well, a VERY canon divergent take on the character, but he’s super interesting, offers a neat spin on the concept of the Joker, and is very very very gay for Bruce.

-1966 Show Joker. Yes, this Joker is, while dangerous in-universe, a comedic character, but bear with me. When your shitty tv show makes the Riddler (who at the time was a bottom of the barrel D-lister) be cooler and scarier than the Joker, you know theyre doing something right- which doesn’t mean Romero’s mustached joker isn’t also scary. His laugh is very haunting and overall? I like the idea of the Joker as a trickster type villain that constantly tries new crimes just because he’s bored.

-Arkhamaniacs: this comic is adorable and super sweet, so give it a try. A young bruce Wayne lives with his parents opposite an apartment building called Arkham. Bruce admires its inhabitants colorful clothes and eccentric lifestyle, and the most colorful of them all, a mysterious smiling man in a purple suit, teaches little Bruce the wonders of friendship and imagination and being extremely gay. no, really, a popular reading of the book is that Arkham is a queer housing project and Bruce is a closeted little kid. this Joker is funny as hell, weird as hell, and very very wholesome at times. Hell, he’s friends with all the other villains for once. And Jonathan changes his name to Steve.

#the joker #Gotham Rogues

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delyth88 · 3 years

Text

Loki episode 5 rewatch

It’s been a busy week so it wasn’t until yesterday that I had a chance to watch Episode 5 again. And I was a little worried I might not like it as much as I did on first watch, but thankfully I did still find a lot to like about this episode.

Spoilers below...

Firstly, I think it’s taken this long, but I’ve finally gotten used to this new variant of our Loki. To this overly emotive, sweetly stupid at times, often bewildered version of the character. Let me be clear, he is absolutely not being presented in the same was at the first three films, Infinity War, or even Ragnarok. But I’m finding him easier to watch now that I have no hopes or expectations that he will be the Loki I was hoping we’d get to see again. Sure, I’m sad they didn’t give us a continuation of the Loki we’re grown to love, but this guy seems to be starting to find his feet, and I’m curious to see what his potential is now.

I was again struck by the increased sense of purpose (no pun intended) of this episode. It seems to be going places more so than previous episodes were. And again I loved the opening sequence and the music as we travel through the TVA and then out into the Void. It did make me wonder whether the destroyed city was actually a version of the timeline where Loki/Thanos win the Battle of New York, and that’s as far as the significance of that set goes. My hunch is that we won’t see that long shot of Loki from the trailers in post-apocalyptic New York. They opted for the mirror of the Avengers scene instead as the way Loki finds himself in this place.

I laughed at Loki’s little rant this time too. Particularly the line “plus an alligator, that I’m heartbroken to report I didn’t even find all that strange!”. In fact there were a few moment when I felt we were getting a little bit of Loki’s old humour. Such as, his “Delightful.” In response to kid Loki talking about cannibalistic pirates, “This is a nightmare.” and “Don’t die isn’t a plan, it’s a general demand of living”.

I do wonder though if this is just about comparison with the other Lokis? Like they’re all so very much more on the extreme end of comical that it makes our Loki seem the straight guy in comparison? *shrug*

After several days I am still taken by Old Loki and his story. And on watching it again I was able to appreciate the little moments leading up to his fighting Alioth. He gives the impression of being just so Over It and his crazy comics outfit also directs the audience away from how much he actually cares. For example he is really quite upset at Lokis in general and presumably also himself after the betrayal by Boastful Loki. He says “We cannot change. We’re broken. Every version of us. Forever.”

And he seems quite affected by Mobius’ offhand comment that “it’s never too late to change”.

And then that look back towards Loki and Sylvie as Alioth approaches.

Gah! This is the kind of thing I wanted for our Loki. I don’t have the right words to describe it, but it’s partly the back story, partly the change of heart, partly the stakes, the emotional depth. I’m really quite sad that we won’t see more of him. :(

@scintillatingshortgirl19 you asked me what I thought of Loki’s response when Sylvie asks, “How do I know that in the final moments you won’t betray me?”

“Listen Sylvie, I…” Loki pauses and takes a deep breath “I betrayed everyone who ever loved me. My father, my brother, my home. I know what I did, and I know why I did it. And that’s not who I am anymore. Okay? I won’t let you down.”

To be honest on my first watch I think I just let it slide over me as yet another one of those lines where they keep telling us what we’re supposed to think of Loki (whether it’s true or not). I think Episode 4 might have broken me – I didn’t even blink an eyelid. I think I’ve just heard so many people saying things that I think are absolutely wrong about Loki that I’m just… used to it now? I dunno. Maybe it was just my mood, or the fact that there were enough other things I enjoyed in the episode that I could ignore it.

But since you pointed it out I’ve been thinking about it and after my rewatch I kinda think Loki has been a little bit influenced by recent events and conversations. He’s just watched with embarrassment several different versions of himself strike bargains and then betray each other, in such an extreme example of this behaviour that it seemed absurdly comic. Boastful Loki even says “I betrayed you, and now I’m king.” And as they leave the Loki fight behind Old Loki says “We lie and we cheat! We cut the throats of every person who trusts us! And for what! Power!” So I can kinda see why betrayal is on his mind.

And perhaps this is something he’s been thinking about for a while now. Since he tried to strike a bargain with Sylvie before he even really knew her. Old Loki ask if Loki trusts Sylvie and he says” “She’s the only one [of the Loki variants] I do trust! “

But I guess the way I interpreted it is not just literal betrayal like he just watched with the other Loki variants, but also letting people down. Letting himself down. In this context betraying his father would be the events of Thor 1 where he betrays his father’s trust by letting the frost giants into the weapons vault (I think he’s talking about Odin here, not Laufey), and then by not being able to be a good king in the eyes of his father or even his own standards while Odin was in the Odinsleep. I don’t think he would be thinking of the moment where he lets Laufey into Odin’s chamber because he always intended to betray Laufey and save Odin. Although maybe he feels guilt for that too, in terms of lying to his father. In regards to his brother, I’d consider any of the times Loki is acting against his brother’s interests, in a serious way such as the times that he was evading and fighting against Thor in Avengers, or when he sent the Destroyer in Thor 1 as betrayals of a sort, and the frost giants at the coronation again. And in regards to his ‘home’ I assume from his perspective this is again about the coronation and the events that led to the destruction of the Bifrost and as far as he’s aware war with Jotunhiem. Perhaps he’s thinking of the moment when Odin says to Thor “... you are unworthy of the loved ones you have betrayed!” Potentially he’s also thinking of Ragnarok and his actions in causing it after what he read in his file in the TVA. Personally I think he knows it was necessary but still feels a ton of guilt about being the one to actually do it. In this case it’s a betrayal in action but not in heart.

So I think he’s kinda focusing on the guilt he feels. And I think this is why he feels it could extend to Frigga, although he doesn’t mention it I think we as the audience are meant to assume it. But again, this is in terms of the guilt he feels at a future version of himself inadvertently causing Frigga’s death – as he’s heard this story second-hand from Mobius. You know how if you start feeling bad about something it’s very easy to expand that to a whole bunch of other things you’ve done? These are the times he feels guilty for his actions in hindsight.

I also think he’s kinda lumping a bunch of things together under the umbrella of the wording of the question that Sylvie has asked. I think if she’d used a different word he would have echoed that back to her too.

I also think he starts of with “Listen Sylvie, I..” because he was about to defend himself, refuse to acknowledge that he would do such a thing and minimise it, by saying some version of “I would never do that”. But he catches himself and takes the opposite approach of laying all his faults out plain. Admitting in a slightly exaggerated way that he has betrayed people in the past and he knows it, which he considers is more likely to be believed, and that he won’t betray Sylvie because he’s changed since then.

So I don’t know if I really have a conclusion to draw from this, but I think Loki is exaggerating out of guilt.

But this is also one of those lines that where the character is telling us not showing us. Which seems to have started in Ragnarok and is being continued in this series. It’s frustrating, I don’t like it, but it seems this is what they do now. :/

***

So, it’s taken me a whole ‘nother day to get to finish writing this, and I’ve realised that this is the first episode in a while that has been on my mind since I watched it. I’m actually invested again! Which I was very much not after Episode 4.

This episode had another piece of Loki’s story, in the form of Old Loki, and that was wonderful, and tragic. And we’re starting to get somewhere with the plot now.

And unlike in previous episodes where it looked like they’d left hints of things to come but that turned out not to be the case, I actually feel like we might get payoff for all those comments about Loki’s magic. Probably not in a way I’d prefer, but at this point I’ll take any sort of change that gives Loki a bit more control over his life.

I’m also feeling again like this story matters. With episodes 3 and 4 I wasn’t really feeling it. I hope I’m not too disappointed. lol

I still don’t like the romance, but having resigned myself to the fact this is what they’re doing last week I was better able to watch this. The fact that Sylvie is as utterly incompetent at personal relationships as our Loki does make it more tolerable to me, and if I take it as some weird AU (which lets be fair is exactly what this is) it is kinda cute. In a way I like that they’re both late 30s/early 40s in appearance, not teens or twenty-somethings. It adds this extra layer to their awkwardness and I think brings home how weird tit is that these thousand year old beings don’t know how to be friends if you can do the mental jumps required to believe this in the first place. I still want it to be platonic or at least not taken any further. I will gag if they kiss in the finale.

#loki #loki series #loki episode 5 #spoilers #my review #loki series negativity #loki series positivity #a bit of both

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theredraccoon · 3 years

Text

A Desperate Proposal - Ch 2

The soft snick of the heavy office door closing was overly loud in the quiet room and Simon raised his head, blinking rapidly. Like breathing, blinking was still a habit that Simon had yet to shake in his five years as a vampire, but whatever, he had time. Oodles of time, apparently; a fact that still threw him on a regular basis. He blinked again, actually registering the quiet— when had his music stopped? Wasn’t his playlist something like five hours long? Had he really been working that long? What time was it?

This time it was the creak of the chair in front of his desk that got his attention. Simon finally snapped back to the real world and took in the sight of his Sire, sitting prim and proper as usual. Raphael’s face was a mix of resignation, amusement, and irritation; in other words, it was his “Simon Face.”

“Good afternoon, Simon. How are the books looking today?” Raphael’s voice was smooth and dry.

Simon automatically straightened and his hands started to shuffle the papers around on his desk, moving his laptop back, rearranging pens, voice getting brighter and louder as he talked. “Oh! It’s going well. The numbers for last month look good, we've made some necessary adjustments. Forcing you to let me buy Quickbooks is paying off, I’ve been able to sort through the mess from, err, before, so much faster and I think that if make a few strategic changes we’ll be able to set up the new vampires with like, an income that will let them not be whiny assholes about what they’re missing from their former lives and I think… that you are not actually here to talk about accounting, are you.”

Simon thought he could detect at least a hint of “impressed” in the lines of Raphael’s face now, but the irritation was also stronger. Simon shifted in the ornate chair and bit his cheek as he kept his mouth shut and let the silence grow.

Finally, Raphael spoke. “No, Simon, I’m not here to talk about accounting. I’m here to relay the latest news from the Downworld Cabinet. Decisions have finally been made and they affect you. Directly affect you, in fact.” Raphael tugged at his cuffs, the crisp white shirt peeking out from the dark blue of his suit jacket. Simon’s eyebrows rose; he wasn’t used to any signs of nervousness from his Sire. His curiosity grew, along with some burgeoning apprehension.

Rapael continued, his voice firming as he went along. “The Cabinet has had a series of emergency meetings with the Clave. After much negotiation we have what we hope is the start of a solution to the... problem we are facing. There will be a series of marriages, between the Downworld and the Shadowhunters of New York. These alliances, if they prove effective, will then take place across the world as we attempt to figure out what is happening and how to counter it. If, and only if, our help is essential to defeating whatever is causing the Shadowhunters to drop like flies, we - the Downworld - will be able to renegotiate the Accords in a manner that is fair and equitable to us and not the Clave. So. We are obviously very invested in making these marriages work and be productive.”

Simon was blinking rapidly again. He felt his brain kickstart into a different gear as he struggled to comprehend what Raphael was saying and the implications of what he was hearing. Marriages? The Clave willing to renegotiate the Accords? Really? Those stubborn assholes? He knew the situation was serious, but really? Marriages? Who was getting married? Wait, why did Raphael say that he, Simon, was going to be directly affected?

His mouth popped open and Simon heard himself say, in a strange tone he’d never heard himself use before, “Who am I marrying, Sire?” Then Simon froze in his chair, his body startled by the leap his brain had made. He watched Raphael twitch slightly.

“The Second in Command of the New York Institute, Jace Lightwood. Alexander Lightwood’s brother.”

The words fell like dead weights in the middle of the room. Simon’s muscles felt locked in place, while his thoughts started to race forward like a bullet train.

The events of the past few months flicked through Simon’s head like a movie on steroids. Simon noticing expenses for the Hotel Dumort increasing suddenly for no discernable reason. The realization that Downworlders and foreign vampires were quietly flooding into New York at rates that surprised even the older vampires in the Clan, causing them to spend more and more money to hide their presence in the city. Raphael taking his concerns to Magnus. Magnus talking to Alec about the increased number of Downworlders in the New York Institute’s territory.

And then the horrifying knowledge that Shadowhunters were dying, dying everywhere, and it was forcing Downworlders into the city as they sought the protection of the Nephilim that remained, the protection that they would have fiercely denied ever needing in the past. Finally, endless hushed meetings between the various contingents of the Downworld as they struggled to make sense of what was happening. Simon, as Raphael’s reluctant Second, had attended several before his annoyance at the Seelie representative and his general impatience at the slow pace had led to Raphael kicking him out.

And now here they were, and Simon was beginning to realize that hiding his head in the accounting nightmare that was the New York Clan for the last month had probably been a mistake.

“I’m sorry, what? I’m marrying who? Why him? Why me? Who else is getting married? When are these marriages happening? What about the fact that I’m a vampire? The Seelies agreed to this? The werewolves? Is that what you’re saying? Really? I’m getting married? But my mom won’t be there. Or my sister. I never thought I’d get married without my mom there. What am I going to wear? Are the marriages taking place at the same time? Is this really the only way? Is Jace the hot blond one? The one who always looks constipated? I’m getting married?”

Raphael’s hands were suddenly on his face, cold brands on his cheeks, and Simon realized that at some point during his semi-hysterical rant he’d gotten up and was standing in front of his Sire. His body was vibrating.

“Simon. Child. I am here. I know that this is a shock and I am sorry for it. But yes, this is the only way. The Nephilim have been hiding their true situation, or they actually didn’t realize it until now, it’s unclear. Regardless, their numbers are now so low that the Downworld is legitimately in danger. We need them and for the first time in forever, they are admitting that they need us. Alliance through marriage has worked for Mundanes for millenia, we might as well try it. This is happening.”

“But why me?” Simon’s voice was a whine that he couldn’t control. Simon stayed still even as Raphael let go of his face and moved back to the chair in front of Simon’s desk. Watched Raphael settle back down, adjusting his suit for the second time. Finally, he spoke.

“Simon, I’m not sure if you have ever fully realized your power, or your responsibilities, as my Second. When I Turned you, you automatically had greater status than most as my Child, but when you presented as a Daylighter… Simon, the only reason that the New York Clan is mine is because I am your Sire. If I were not here, the other vampires would follow you. That is how powerful the draw of a Daylighter is. Especially because we have no idea why they exist, why you are one. If this plan is to work, each representative has to be of high importance, someone that proves that we are committed and have power to offer.”

Simon’s mouth opened. And closed. And opened and then closed again. He felt like a fish out of water, trying to grasp the full weight of what Raphael was saying. He’d known that the other vampires treated him differently but he’d thought it was just because he was young. And a bit of a spaz. And a nerd spouting pop culture references to creatures that were around when the only entertainment was going to see P.T. Barnum and his fish-monkeys. This was different. Slightly scary.

A brief wince crossed Raphael’s face and Simon’s focus sharpened. “What else, Raphael? What aren’t you telling me?”

“The Shadowhunters— Alec— put Jace’s name into the negotiations first, as a sign that they were willing to offer their best and brightest, and someone near and dear to the Institute. But we still weren’t sure how desperate they were and if the Clave was actually committed to changing some of their… prejudices. So we offered you. And they agreed. They are serious. Alec Lightwood is the one that discovered the depth of the problem in the first place. He seems level headed and not as willing to put up with the Clave’s bullshit."

The hits kept coming, apparently. “Does Jace even like guys? Do I have to get married to a straight guy? I thought this wasn’t supposed to be a complete sham?”

“Alec has assured me that his brother is bisexual and I believe him. But Shadowhunters are notoriously homophobic and it might be... difficult for a while. You remember the scandal when news of Magnus dating Alec broke. I think the Nephilim were more upset that Magnus was a man than he was a Downworlder. Or maybe it was equal, who knows. Regardless, no, you will not be marrying someone who isn’t interested in men. These marriages are meant to be alliances, they need a chance to work. ”

Simon drifted back to his own chair and sat down. “Well, at least there’s that. Although he could just be an asshole. The few times I’ve seen him lurking around Pandemonium he always looks angry. Maybe he just has Resting Bitch Face. Hopefully.” He met Raphael’s eyes. “This is really happening? It’s the only way? I feel like a broken record, but I need to know. I kinda gave up on marriage when I became a vampire, I’m not sure how to feel about this.”

Raphael leaned forward and kept Simon’s gaze. “Yes, Simon, this needs to happen. We don’t know what’s killing the Shadowhunters and it’s affecting all of us worse than we could have imagined. We need to figure out what’s happening and stop it, hopefully without too many more casualties. And we can use these marriages to make a better life for ourselves afterwards. If there is an afterwards.” His voice faded away and there was silence again.

“Shit. I guess I’m marrying a Shadowhunter.” Simon let his head rest against the heavy wooden chair and closed his eyes.

“Yes. Simon. Thank you. We’ll talk more soon.”

Simon heard Raphael get up and walk towards the door, enhanced hearing picking up every footfall and swish of cloth, knowing that it was deliberate, that Raphael was a master of silent movement, that his Sire wanted Simon to know that he was leaving, that he was retreating to give Simon space to absorb the bombshells dropped into his life.

The door shut soundlessly this time, just a whiff of displaced air. Simon swallowed hard.

#chapter 2 #shminibang #jimon #a desperate proposal #suck at tumblr

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beevean · 3 years

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How was Infinite better than Mephiles in your opinion? I think Infinite had a bit of potential but Pontiff ruined what little there was.

Is Forces a Pontaff game? It doesn’t look like one, and I think they just translated/collaborated? No seriously, I remember reading the credits and being confused. Anyway.

Let’s get out of the way the most shallow reason I prefer Infinite: design. Infinite’s design is damn cool, he’s so edgy that it’s obvious he’s meant to be a caricature, with his clawed gloves and boots with his own friggin’ symbol on it, but he’s still appealing to the eyes. Before you finish the game, the mask also adds intrigue: why is he wearing it, and why is he blind in one eye? It motivates you to get to know more about him. It also helps that he’s a canid, a family that is quite rare in the series - I can only think of Tails and Chip - and it makes him unique but not in a special OC way. (this also means he even has some cute features like big ears and a fluffy tail, which add delicious contrast to his “I'm the toughest of terrors I am the darkest of days” design)

On the contrary, Mephiles has two designs: Multiplayer-Mode Shadow...

And Nightmare Shadow.

And sure, the crystallized form is pretty cool to look at, but he still Shadow. I get that he was reborn from Shadow’s shadow (some writer felt very clever that day), but I kinda would have preferred to see him take other forms. Well, it’s not like the devs had the time to add a third model...

(also, both of them have awesome voices so I can’t put one above the other)

As for the rest, here’s a rundown:

- Mephiles, along with Iblis to a lesser extent, overshadows Eggman. He’s yet another villain that takes the stage and reduces the good ol’ doc to a miniboss, more preoccupied with stealing the McGuffin... I mean, Princess Elise, than to do some interesting villaining - this has the ripple effect of making Sonic the Hedgehog, in a game called Sonic the Hedgehog, nearly useless to the main plot until he’s killed. I have little tolerance for villains who want to be more “dangerous” than Eggman at this point, and Mephiles was only one of the last ones that played this overused trope seriously (wish he was the last one, but Dark Gaia is a smear on an otherwise beautiful game... but that’s another story). By contrast, Infinite is always Eggman’s weapon, and the game never implies you’re supposed to think less of the scientist - Infinite may be an arrogant buffoon, but he never leaves Eggman’s side. The two work on a tandem, and basically Infinite is terrifying raw strength combined with Eggman’s superior intellect. Took him long enough, but Eggman has essentially tamed a powerful beast like he’s been planning to do since Chaos.

- Mephiles is meant to be this master manipulator, a 4D chessmaster moving pieces across time and space to get to his goal. I love the idea, really: he’s the raw intellect of a god without any of the strength of a god, so he has to play dirty and play on mortals’ emotions. The problem is that the game isn’t competent enough to pull such a feat, so everyone basically has the IQ of a brick - everyone who has even watched some videos points out at least two things:

1) how can Silver, even if he grew up in a destroyed city, trust some random guy without a mouth and reptilian eyes who suddenly tells him “here’s the cause of your problems, now go back in time and kill him” and Silver is just like “okie dokie” without even asking “excuse me, and whomst the fuck are you”

2) Mephiles can travel in time anywhere he wishes AND he can apparently conjure the Emeralds at his side. There is literally nothing stopping him to go to Silver’s future and rejoin Iblis there, or even prevent the incident that split them. The game set no limitations to his powers, and so we’re free to think about the most obvious solutions, and so his overly complicated plan that hinges on a boy killing another boy 200 years in the past after he bonded with the Iblis seal to make her cry in grief, plus triggering Shadow’s trauma on the side... even more hard to follow, because it’s all useless.

Infinite, to be fair, has a similar problem with his powers: the Phantom Ruby’s potential has never been specificed, but it seems to be a strong reality warper that can even teleport people (Mania) - and yet we only see Infinite conjure clones and spikes with it, which is boring. However, one thing he has over Mephiles is that the guy’s blatantly an idiot. Like, the story doesn’t shy away from showing how his arrogant, sadistic mistakes like “lol i’ll leave you alive because you’re not worth my time” have serious repercussions to Eggman’s plans, to the point that the guy at the end is like “you know what, I’m sick of your shit” and kills him. And you may be like “how does that make him better than Mephiles” - well he’s more believable, and more human (relatively speaking), and Forces’ story was written with feet but no one got their IQ divided by itself so there’s that.

I get the feeling Infinite is meant to be both intimidating and a parody of overly edgy and cool villains like Mephiles himself, and for me it works. Mephiles... he’s kinda like ShTH: he takes himself way too seriously. Except ShTH is funny, at least.

To be kind to Mephiles, his backstory is at least more precise, and definitely more interesting: as I mentioned, I love the idea of a god that was split into powerless intellect and mindless strength. In a better game, Mephiles would have been an interesting villain, completely ineffectual in a physical battle and maybe in constant pain, but omniscent and with a streak of sadism.

Infinite, on the other hand, clearly went through a shift in backstory: the main game hints at the fact that he was made in a lab, but then Episode Shadow comes in and he’s just some guy who was bullied too hard. I... okay.

Anyway, Infinite is more appealing to me and he doesn’t break Forces’ already fragile plot like Mephiles does. also he cute. there :V

#sonic the hedgehog #infinite #mephiles #sonic 06 #sonic forces #Anonymous

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seeing-the-light · 3 years

Text

TTS Gen Week Day 3: Protection

Note: Yes, I know this was yesterday’s prompt, I just ended up being too tired to finish it yesterday but I really liked where it was going, so here we are! Thanks @purplespacefairy for organizing this!

Something More Important Read on AO3

Edmund was upset, because today was supposed to have been special.

And it’d started off well enough. Ever since he’d informed the royal family in Corona that his son’s real birthday was approaching, they’d been nothing but willing to help him create the proper celebration. He could tell that their friend’s betrayal had been hard on Eugene and Rapunzel, but though it still cast shadows over everything, he could tell they were beginning to heal. That’d heartened him, particularly since he knew how far they’d come since it first happened.

That moment when his son had stepped into the room, with shock that turned to confusion… for a moment, he could imagine what it might’ve been like to something like this for him every year, growing up, if they’d been together. He felt something warm bloom in his chest as Eugene looked to him for confirmation, even then – for a moment, they felt like a child’s eyes. He made his way in and looked around with a child’s excitement and wonder – and though Edmund was happy to see it, he couldn’t help being stabbed with guilt. Maybe he could’ve tried harder, maybe he could’ve sent his son something every year just so he knew he was remembered, even if that could’ve been dangerous and attracted unwanted attention. If only he’d-

A cold gust of wind had run through the room, then, startling him out of his thoughts. He didn’t have to look to recognize the aura of the moonstone. “Swell party,” She’d smirked. “I’m guessing my invitation got lost in the mail.” It’s not my kingdom, He’d had to remind himself, adamantly, as she entered the room, dragging Adira’s blade across the floor. Cassandra didn’t deserve to be holding that blade. He was a guest here, this wasn’t his castle, which meant he had to defer to the royal family’s judgement, even if a part of him wanted to strike her down the moment she entered for having the audacity to use this moment, this moment that was supposed to be special and his first chance he had to celebrate a birthday with his son, to engage in her sick drama. The anger only rumbled deeper, and stronger, when she patronized the princess, and called his son an ex-convict and a loser.

He noticed his son only corrected the ex-convict part, and that hurt Edmund in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

After she left, the whole atmosphere had changed. No one wanted to celebrate anymore, with her threat looming over them. And before he had the chance to say much of anything, Eugene and his friends had already whisked out of the room, likely to decide what their next move was.

He couldn’t help feeling a twinge of regret. He wanted to be a part of his son’s life, especially on a day like this, but the last thing he wanted was to accidentally do something that’d push him further away. He didn’t think he could bear making any more mistakes, not when this was such a delicate situation and his son had finally started talking to him enough that he’d had to be careful not to mention this surprise birthday to him beforehand.

So he waited. In fact, the next he heard from any of them, it was when the dispirited couple was walking through the castle’s hallways, on the way towards their bedrooms. “What happened, son?”

Eugene glanced over at Rapunzel, before looking back at his dad. “She took him.” He sounded defeated.

“Took who?” Edmund said, brow furrowing, concern entering his eyes. He didn’t have to ask who she was.

Eugene sighed, running a hand over his hair, but it was Rapunzel who answered. “Varian. He was translating the scroll, and we thought…“ Her voice trailed off, lapsing into silence.

Quirin’s son. “Then we must go after them at once!”

“We?” Eugene said, at the same time as Rapunzel said “See?” She crossed her arms. “He agrees with me.”

“You can’t be serious, son.” Edmund said, looking at both of them. “You said it yourself, earlier- with the scroll, and the moonstone, she could-“

Eugene looked at Rapunzel again, more out of concern than anything else – but she didn’t seem to be overly affected by the remark. Then, he gave another sigh, “Listen, Dad… can we talk about this?” The implication was clear. Alone.

Edmund was silent for a moment, unsure whether he’d pressed too far, but then he nodded. (And maybe it wasn’t important, given the current circumstances, but he couldn’t help thinking of a time when Eugene could hardly stand being in the same room as him.) “Of course.”

As he waited, Eugene squeezed Rapunzel’s hand and leaned forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight, Sunshine. I’ll be by, later.”

Despite everything, Rapunzel smiled back. For a moment, the ring she hadn’t gotten to pull out weighed heavily in her bag. “Happy Birthday, Eugene.”

With that, she moved down the hall to go up to her own bedroom. Eugene’s gaze lingered on her until she disappeared from view, before turning back to his dad.

“I’m sorry if I’m-“

“No, it’s fine.” Eugene said, putting his hands in his pockets, before turning to walk towards his room. “This is important.”

“I agree.” Edmund swallowed, before walking to keep pace with him. “All I’m saying is that you already know exactly how powerful it is, if she has the ability to harness its full potential-“

“But we don’t even know where she is.” He cut in, half because he just didn’t want his dad to start detailing everything CassAHNdra could possibly do, right now. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it. “It’s dark, and in the woods, there’s no telling what we might run into- look, I don’t feel good about leaving her with all of that power and Varian, either, but what she did today-“

“What did she do today?” Edmund asked, in a quieter tone. By now, they’d reached the door to his bedroom.

“Kicked me down a flight of stairs, for one.” Eugene muttered, as they entered, closing the door behind them. He found himself continuing before he could stop himself- and once he’d started, he found he didn’t want to stop. “Almost ran me over with a giant ball. Almost brought a giant metal machine down on us while I was dangling over a drop while holding onto a horse’s legs. So you know-“ He forced out a wry chuckle, trying to hide just how shaken he felt. “A normal Tuesday. And that part was just Lance and Max and I, Varian is-“

Cassandra had taken him. Now, there was no telling where she was. And he suspected that Varian wouldn’t just tell her what she wanted to know, which meant-

Which meant the kid was in a whole lot of danger.

Eugene looked out the window. He’d never admit it aloud, but he didn’t think he’d been properly scared of what lengths Cassandra might go to in order to get her way before today. The person who’d faced him hadn’t been his friend- it was someone who had no qualms about using his life as a pawn in her game.

Well, at least it wasn’t his first time in that situation.

Edmund’s eyes hardened as Eugene relayed this series of events. “I’m sorry all of that happened.” Maybe, if he’d insisted on being there instead of waiting here, he could’ve-

“Dad.” Eugene said, looking back at him. “You were saying your thoughts aloud again.” By now, he’d crossed his arms, but the way he was looking at Edmund... it seemed almost vaguely confused by the sentiment.

“Sorry.” Edmund responded. He only hesitated briefly, before continuing. “But if you go tomorrow, you must let me come along with you.”

“You?” If anything, the confusion only seemed to have grown. “No, it should be Rapunzel and Lance and I, if anything- the less people who are at risk, the better.”

“The less people you have, the easier it will be for her to overpower you.” Edmund pointed out.

Eugene shook his head, and for a moment, Edmund caught a glimmer of the same conviction that’d swayed him from what he’d thought was his purpose for decades. “I’m sure Rapunzel can take her.”

“You have to agree, though, that having someone else along couldn’t possibly-“

“Look, I’m touched. But we’ll be fine.”

“And what if you’re not-“

“Dad,” Eugene said, resisting the urge to sigh for the third time and trying to keep his frustration at bay. “I get that you’re upset because Cassandra stole the moonstone and you-“

”This isn’t about the moonstone, son.” Edmund said, in a low tone. Eugene must’ve looked confused – he was so sure he’d understood exactly what was bothering his father – because then the older man looked at him more directly, and said in an even quieter tone. “It’s about you.”

Eugene blinked at him, stunned into silence at that statement. He didn’t know how to respond. People had tended to get upset at him time and time again throughout his life, but upset on his behalf? He hadn’t really encountered that until... well, Rapunzel. Which was much different from this. And his father had dedicated his life to protecting the moonstone, so he’d just assumed...

Well, he’d definitely been quiet for too long. It was time to fill the silence with something witty, like he usually did. Something intelligent, that’d distract him from whatever the hell this new emotion he was feeling was.

”...What?” He found himself saying instead, stupidly.

“It’s about you.” Edmund repeated, still holding his gaze.

Eugene blinked again, processing this, “…what,” He swallowed, realizing he was about to sound like an idiot again. “What do you mean? I mean, the moonstone is-“

“I lost everything because of the moonstone, son!” Edmund said abruptly, in rare burst of strong emotion. Eugene barely kept from flinching, startled by its force, even if he was equally surprised to realize he didn’t quite mind it. It didn’t scare him the way it had when they’d first met, at least. “In a different way from how she has.” Edmund continued, more softly, leaving no doubt as to who she was. “And now that ... something has brought us together again, whether you want to call it destiny or happenstance, I don’t want to-“ He gave a deep sigh, no longer meeting Eugene’s gaze. “I could not bear it happening a second time.”

You’re the reason it happened at all. He wanted to retort, but something held him back. The sentiment his dad was expressing seemed so... genuine and vulnerable, he wasn’t sure he had the heart to shoot it down, even if a part of him was still angry.

“And when she was saying all those things about you and your friends, I wanted to-“ Edmund’s hand clenched into a fist, taking the silence as an opportunity to continue. “You are many things, son, and I admit I don’t know what all of them are, and that is my fault. The weight of that decision is mine to bear for the rest of my life.” His voice was tinged with deep regret, as he finally raised his head to meet his son’s gaze again. “But a loser isn’t one of them. A loser would not manage to rise every time he was knocked down. A loser would not go out of his way to help even those who have wronged him. If being here has shown me anything, it’s how vibrant a life you’ve built for yourself, and how deep the connections you’ve forged run. Everyone practically jumped at the chance to throw you a party, after I-”

“...the party was your idea?” Eugene asked, in a small voice. Everything else he’d said was too overwhelming to process, right now, especially when he wasn’t properly sure how he even felt about the man standing in front of him. Besides, anything more, and his voice might start shaking, and the stinging in his eyes might turn into something more. He couldn’t afford that right now, even as he wondered at how... much it warmed him to be seen by someone relatively new to him.

“Well, Rapunzel took the idea and ran with it, of course.” He said, a somewhat endeared smile crossing his face.

“Of-of course.” Eugene realized he hadn’t been breathing, and released one, relaxing a little and unable to keep from giving a small smile. She had a way of doing that.

“But I wanted to commemorate this day in some way. So you could see that you are important - and to so many people, too.” His brow furrowed in frustration. “And then she-”

“That wasn’t your fault.” Eugene said, before he could continue. He wasn’t even sure why he said it, just knew that that wasn’t something he wanted his dad to blame himself for. Especially not after...all that. “Look, I’ll admit that I haven’t forgiven you for what you did, and what that meant for me growing up.” Rather than saying anything in protest, Edmund just nodded, bowing his head. Eugene swallowed, before reaching forward to put a hand on his father’s left shoulder. Edmund met his gaze. “But you’re trying, which is more than a lot of people would do. I can see that. And that still... means something.”

Edmund held his gaze for a long moment. To be honest, Eugene wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, in there. But then, without warning, he felt himself yanked into a strong hug. He gave a (very manly) yelp.

Edmund froze. “You’re injured. I didn’t even think about that, are you-”

Eugene’s breath had caught in his chest, but as it released, it bubbled forth in a laugh. “I’m fine, Dad. Just warn me next time.”

Edmund pulled him closer in relief (though more gently). “I make no promises.”

He gave a smaller chuckle in response to that, but just relaxed into the hug, in lieu of giving an actual response.

Edmund smiled. There was a long journey ahead, but every step was taking them somewhere, and it was more than worth it. For now, he was just glad to have this moment.

“Happy birthday, son.”

#tts gen week #eugene fitzherbert #rapunzel #tangled #cassandra's revenge #king edmund

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