#i have something else planned for the initial sketch of this so keep an eye out for that later down the line | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

its-deputy-caleb · 3 years

Note

the gang reacting to their S/O dying in a gun fight >:)

Oh anon you’re pure evil >:)

Also warning I will describe the reader dying for most so don’t read if that’s triggering. And as of next week I will be coming back full time for writing so some longer fics will be written not just headcannons!!

Dutch Van Der Linde

It happens in a blink of an eye when you push Dutch to the ground to save him during the botched train station robbery Bronte had sent you on but you collapsed instantly, the bullet going straight through your chest.

Dutch barely registers that you’re gone, a part of him expecting you to just walk into his tent like you always used to do.

He keeps all of your trinkets around his tent because it makes him feel like apart of you is still there with him.

The gang often see him walking around camp with your neckerchief wrapped around his hand and he’ll often bring it with him while he plans for the gang or whenever he needs to remain strong for everyone else.

Hosea Matthews

The robbery was blown the minute someone recognised you both from wanted posters, blowing your cover in the bar as up and coming advertising agents.

Hosea blames himself for how the events of the robbery played out since he helped plan it with you but you couldn’t get cover under the bar quick enough.

He’s rational enough to know that it’s not truly his fault and that jobs can go wrong but losing you was something he was never prepared for.

To remember you he reads all of your favourite books that you used to read together and he starts to do less jobs with the gang and chooses to stay in a little more while he grieves.

Arthur Morgan

Arthur beats himself up every day for the fact he couldn’t save you. It was supposed to be a normal stagecoach robbery but when O’Driscols showed up there was no way you could make it out of there.

You were both outnumbered and Arthur barely made it out himself but he’d wish you could have been the one to make it and not him because he loves you that much.

He reads his journal of all your amazing times together, often late at night under a lantern when he misses you most.

His journal is filled with sketches of you and all your favourite things like your horse or your favourite flowers because Arthur is determined to remember every little detail of you.

Charles Smith

Charles is so mad that he watched you bleed out in a shootout with Pinkertons. His initial choice was to scream and curse but no matter what he couldn’t bring you back.

The gang was falling apart but you and Charles were inseparable and you knew that no matter how it ended you’d always choose to be together over any loyalty to the gang.

Despite this, Charles keeps his head up for you, stays strong and stays to his morals of high honour knowing it was what you’d want.

He helps the Marston family and Arthur get out like you would have done if you were still with him.

The forest and nature is where he remembers you and he’ll sit for hours by the river and he was brought to tears when a deer walked up to him as he felt like you were there.

John Marston

John doesn’t believe his eyes when he sees you hit the ground at the Bronte manner. You’d pulled Jack out of the line of fire but ended up getting hit yourself.

He knows why you did it, everybody loved the boy especially you but it didn’t make it any less painful.

It’s hard for John to come to terms with it and he often leaves camp for a few days to sit by your grave so he can ramble to you all that he’s feeling in that moment.

Sometimes he begs you to come back if he’s had a bottle or two and other times he sits there and watches the stars while he remembers all of your favourite moments together.

Micah Bell

When Micah registers that a Pinkerton had shot you, he goes after them with pure rage, getting his revenge as he fired every round in his revolver until he hit the ground.

It didn’t make the pain of losing you go away however and Micah is always half drunk around camp and one hundred percent more irritable with every member. A complete turn around from how you’d slowly started getting him to warm up to people.

Micah wears your ring on a chain and he plays with it whenever he misses you or gets super riled up.

He’s never one to call himself sentimental but he doesn’t care when he goes to sit in the field of purple flowers up past Strawberry since it was one of your first dates together and it’s where he spends his time whenever he needs to leave the gang for while.

Javier Escuella

Javier feels so much guilt for how you died on guarma. You’d already risked your life to save him but you were so close to escaping the island together when you stayed behind to make sure everyone else got out.

All the things that cheer him up or remind him of you are too difficult to manage. He struggles to play guitar or go fishing as they remind him of being with you.

It takes him months but he eventually returns to playing his guitar, using it as a way to remember everything he loved about you.

He’ll play your favourite songs for the gang or just for himself and he even writes songs about you and the things you loved so he can remember you.

Bill Williamson

You and Bill were so excited for the bank job in Valentine, finally feeling like you could get a big break and feel like you could prove yourselves to the gang but it went so horribly wrong that you didn’t even make it past the vaulted doors of the bank.

Bill literally shuts down after you’re no longer with him. You were his soulmate and you were one of the very few people that made him feel loved and cared for despite all his flaws.

He spends a lot of time on his own, sitting by the fire or on guard duty as he attempts to try and come to terms with it.

Bill tries to keep his head up, to be strong and do his bit for the gang like you’d want but in his tent he keeps a small chest filled with letters, gifts, your revolvers and gun belt so he can take them out and care for them.

Lenny Summers

The Saint Denis Bank job was an absolute disaster and before Lenny even knew what was happening you were pushing him to cover on a roof top while you ended up catching the bullet.

You were on your way out, the two of you so close escaping with your lives the money be damned and it wasn’t until Lenny was sitting on a boat heading to guarma did he really take in what happened.

Lenny keeps a slightly crumpled and bloodied Polaroid picture of you two together. You’d found an old camera and taken a few photos of each other smiling with it.

Whenever he misses you he takes it out and reads the message on the back that you’d written saying how much you love him.

Sean Macguire

Sean hates the town of Rhodes. He hates the Braithwaites and he hates the Grays. He can’t go to the town without thinking about how you’d pushed him away after seeing the sniper on the roof, causing the entire shoot out to begin.

No matter how many Grays he shot it didn’t change the fact that you weren’t going to stand back up.

Of course Sean takes to the bottle, but drinking isn’t fun when you’re not around to laugh at his terrible jokes.

Sean picks flowers for you and lays them at your grave, making wreaths and other bouquets to keep his mind busy and its always a way for him to spend time with you in the only way he can.

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mcyt-imagines · 3 years

Note

I loved your "dating tommy includes" hcs! Could you do a dating ranboo includes hcs please? 💓💓

This request was super fun I got a little carried away with it though! Hope you enjoy regardless :)

Ranboo Dating HCs

This boy is an absolute cuddle bug! (Once you guys have dated for a little while first, of course, he needs a little bit of time to feel comfortable enough) But once he’s decided he’s comfy enough around you, you won’t be able to pry this lanky boy off of you. However, every once in a while, he’ll distance himself a little, as if he’s worrying he’s being too clingy. But with some convincing and reassurance from you, he’ll be back to begging for cuddles in no time.

He adores both being the big spoon and the little spoon. The idea of you feeling safe in his arms when he’s the big spoon always makes him feel strong and confident. But feeling so content and relaxed in your arms when he’s the little spoon is something he loves just as much.

This boy isn’t great at remembering dates. So whenever your anniversaries come around, if you don’t remind him, he will forget. So his usual methodically planned out dates are cast aside when he’s on a time crunch, he instead finds himself on BuzzFeed's Top 10 Romantic Destinations In Every City’ or some other dodgy/trashy teen website. They’re still fun because you’ll be with Ranboo, and the spontaneity of them is a welcome breath of fresh air for you, Ranboo not as much, but you do your best to reassure him and curb any of his fears.

Ranboo is the kind of boyfriend who has you at the forefront of his mind, most of the time. This leads to him bringing home countless little trinkets or articles of clothing that reminded him of you. It’s never for any special occasion, he just thought you would like it and so he wanted to give it to you. He will also gift you any sketches he draws that he actually ends up liking, that’s usually only like a fifth of them but he will always cherish your compliments and critique. Mainly because he actually cares about what you think, and knows you’d be honest with him if his drawings were as bad as he sometimes thinks they are.

If you and Ranboo ever fight while you’re together, which seeing as how non-confrontational he is, I can’t see it happening very often if at all. But if you do, he is likely to apologise first, and very shortly after the initial argument. It’s not that he’s a pushover and can’t stand up or himself, he just doesn’t see the point in arguing about something stupid or unimportant, so he’ll encourage you to hash it out with him quickly and with little fanfare. However, if the argument is over something important like morals, he will use his apology to try and reach a middle ground with you. By letting some time pass since the initial argument, he knows both of your minds are clearer and less clouded by emotion, allowing for the two of you to come to a peaceful agreement or disagreement.

Ranboo likes to have you in his stream room whenever he is streaming. If you’re busy with something else he won’t stop you and drag you into his stream room, but you do notice his demeanour change when you’re there or not during streams. He is always quite upbeat but the cute way he looks back at you every few minutes always guarantees a blush to rise to your cheeks. His happy grin contagious even as he looks away and back to chat. You usually will make Ranboo something to eat whilst he’s streaming, especially for lore streams as they’re usually longer. He has accidentally announced it to chat several times having meant to mute himself before speaking, he always gasps too. “You made me lunch! Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that. How about I make dinner tonight for you, huh?” His chat will race by as you press a kiss to his cheek, and he takes the plate from you. “Guys my partner made me luuuuuuunch. I bet you guys are all super jealous.” He smirks, the chat hears your soft laughter in the background as you return to the comfy spot you had been occupying before you left to grab Ranboo some food, munching on something you’d grabbed for yourself.

Ranboo always insists that you do chores together, even if it isn’t the same chore. You can see him vacuuming from across the house as you’re emptying the trash. And of course, loud music is playing during this, chores must be done whilst jamming out. Ranboo is a strong believer in that philosophy.

Ranboo also tries to get hands-on in the kitchen whenever he can. He cooks most of the meals simply because he can be a bit of a picky eater, and thus you both decided it would be easier if Ranboo cooked more often. But there are days where you must cook and you try your best to make the meal as inoffensive as possible for Ranboo, he knows it’s a pain and always thanks you profusely for it. He’ll usually hover whilst you’re in the kitchen asking if he can help dice the carrots, mash the potatoes or stir the bubbling pot of pasta and you usually end up having to dance around the gentle giant as he fumbles his gangly self around your very small kitchen. This has led to some small accidents in which both of your outfits have gotten completely ruined, but you’ve never held it against him no matter how much he blames himself for it. The first time an accident like that happened Ranboo baked cupcakes for you the next morning as an apology and almost burnt down the place because he was so lost in his sulky and broody thoughts, he didn’t hear the oven timer go off.

Ranboo isn’t the kind of boyfriend to get jealous or possessive. This isn’t because he doesn’t care, it’s simply because he trusts you. He has no reason to worry, even though he does, but he refuses to let that interfere with you having some fun with your friends. However, if some person is making unsolicited advances towards you, and you’re looking and obviously feeling very uncomfortable he will not hesitate to step in. This boy may not be confrontational, but he knows when he needs to step up to defend someone, he knows you can defend yourself, but if he can stand in between you and that person he is more than willing to.

At parties together Ranboo sticks to you like glue, he’s not a huge fan of the combination of loud music, flashing lights and crowded people. You know this, and so you keep to the outskirts determined to keep your boyfriend feeling content and make sure he enjoys himself a little too. You don’t go to parties often with Ranboo simply because he doesn’t adore them, but if it’s an important event for you or himself he will begrudgingly go. However, he never dares to complain only pleading with his eyes to leave after a few hours. And usually, by that point, you’ve shown yourself around to the host and whoever you needed to see, so you usually just slip out the entrance with little fanfare. Eager to get home and into your pyjamas for a late-night movie, some cuddles and then passing out on the couch.

Ranboo talks in his sleep. Mostly gibberish, but sometimes he will string a couple of sentences together. They’re usually questions directed at you or part of conversations you’ve already had with Ranboo the previous day. They rarely wake you up, his voice being quite soft, barely mumbling. However, every once in a while, you will humour him, and yourself in the process. Continuing a full conversation with him whilst he sleeps, and sometimes you directly impact his dreams. One night you mentioned cinnamon to him as he slept and the next morning, he said he had been craving Cinnabon’s in his dream, and now that he was awake, he wanted one 100x more. Thus, the two of you made some that afternoon to cull his craving. You made a mental note to keep your effect on his dreams a little secret to yourself.

Ranboo can have difficulty conveying his emotions to you the way he wants to, struggling to find the right words. But when he does, he screams them from the rooftop. Once he confesses to loving you, you hear it often. Whether it’s just a ‘goodbye love you’ on the phone or a heartfelt ‘I love you’ as he holds your face in his hands as you lie awake late at night in each other’s arms. This also is the case with compliments. This boy showers you with compliments, if you’re insecure about a certain part of your body you best bet, he will be putting plenty of focus into making you love that part of yourself just as much as he does. Which is a lot. In turn, it leads to him simply talking about you a lot, you’re on his mind almost 24/7 and he makes sure everyone in his life knows it. Seeing as his family and friends adore you, they don’t mind it too much. This boy adores you with his whole heart and he wants to make sure every single person he ever runs into, knows it. No matter how long you’ve been together, that will never change.

~Requests are always open!~

#ranboo x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #x reader

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 3 years

Text

Melting Wax, Crawling Vines: Part 11 (Vincent Sinclair x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter

Warnings: smut, oral, fingering, cum-eating, trauma, blood/gore, hypersexuality as a way to cope my dudes

Word Count: 3846

The smut chapter I promised is finally here

It had been a month and you'd been thinking about it. You knew you shouldn't have. That it did nothing to help you. That going over the events over and over in your mind would only bring back more pain. But, like a wound on the inside of your cheek, you couldn't help but touch it.

You were pouring your cup of coffee, thinking about the blood. The gore. The broken face and his final cry. You thought about what he'd been trying to tell you, what he'd been trying to get at. The wax bodies all over town. He'd mentioned your type, and, for a moment, you wondered if you really were just attracted to crazy. You shook your head. Vincent wasn't crazy. Bo on the other hand. Maybe. But Vincent was lucid. And he still did the thing he did. You bit the inside of your cheek. Okay, maybe your track record wasn't amazing. And maybe if you'd listened to him-

"Shit." You said, feeling the hot coffee touch your hand. Your thoughts had gone elsewhere for too long, to the point where you'd overfilled your cup until the coffee spread across the counter and down onto the floor. You were quick to grab some paper towels to clean up your mess, and Vincent was reaching over to help you. He quickly signed,

"You okay?" And you gave him a nod. It wasn't a lie. Physically, you hadn't been hurt more than a minor shock of the initial burn. Mentally, however? That was another story. You ended up dumping out a little bit of your cup, just so you wouldn't end up spilling it on your way down to the workshop.

You spent all of your time with Vincent. You went down to his workshop with him, carrying your coffee and your breakfast. You were going to spend some time reading, maybe take a nap, and try your best to hold onto your slipping sanity. Vincent, despite his hobby, was a big help. He understood that the whole event was traumatizing, and your hesitance to really leave the safety of the workshop. It was away from the rest of the world, perfectly hidden and the perfect place to recoup yourself. He would let you lay in his bed, reading, sleeping, or even prepping for some more lessons for the others.

But, after you finished eating, you couldn't find it in you to pick up the book you'd left on the side of Vincent's bed. You knew you could try your hand at drawing, as Vincent had offered to let you use any of his notebooks and had given you some of his own lessons. After a moment, you asked for some of his pencils and he was quick to offer you a variety of drawing tools. Charcoal, pencils, pens, markers. You almost wanted to ask if he had crayons. You chose a simple pencil, before you reached for one of his notebooks and began flipping through the pages. Vincent always let you use whatever you wanted. He had plenty of notebooks, plenty of tools. It was rare that he'd ever need all of them, and he always told you that it was all at your disposal.

So, you hadn't expected to find what you did. You knew that Vincent drew you. Hell, you'd posed for some of his drawings. But this was not the usual portraits you found. You flipped further, quickly figuring out that this notebook seemed to have one specific purpose. Part of you wanted to just tuck it away and pretend you never saw anything. And another part of you wanted to tease him ruthlessly for it.

Finally, you decided on the former. You tucked that particular notebook away, looking for a different one for you to begin sketching in. As much as you just wanted to draw whatever came to mind, you found the only thing that came to mind was Vincent.

You and Vincent had kissed and done some light touching, but your original path had been undoubtedly slowed by what happened with your ex. Vincent didn't want to push, you knew. So, the most you'd done was a few light kisses that you'd initiated, and it was always nothing more than something to relieve some of your stress or to bask in the comfort of the early morning. You were aware that Vincent was inexperienced, but it was almost reassuring to see that he did desire you. Even if he planned on keeping it to himself.

You stared at him for a moment. You watched the way his hands moved, how they moved with the utmost precision and certainty. How his movements were both gentle and sure, like a well oiled machine. The muscle you knew he possessed was covered by a sweater that hung off of him, and his long black hair was tied back at his neck. You wished for this morning to return, wished that you'd spent more time running your hands through it. Well, you knew you'd get to play with it when you settled for bed.

You drew him until Vincent was done with his pet project, a lamp for the upstairs bedroom. When Vincent came over to peek at what you'd been drawing, you thought you could see a crinkle in his eye and you watched the way he played with his hands. He was embarrassed, you could tell, and, after a moment, he signed,

"Me?" And you gave him a smile and a nod. He turned away, busying himself by fixing his ponytail. But you knew he was pleased. You smiled to yourself. Even if it wasn't as good as Vincent's, he still liked it. He grabbed the lamp, holding it with one arm. You were quick to say and sign,

"You're going upstairs?" And he gave you a nod. After a moment, he moved it in his arms to comfortably sign,

"You don't have to come." He said, and you bit your lip. You knew that he knew you liked to avoid the House of Wax as much as possible. After everything that happened there, he understood. You frowned. It had once been your favorite place in all of Ambrose. You glanced down the hallway. But you didn't really like being alone in the basement either. You sighed, deciding that you'd rather face your issues than stay alone in the basement.

"It's fine. I'll come." You said, and you pulled on your slippers and one of Vincent's sweaters over your pajamas. You couldn't ignore how Vincent seemed happy, even if he wouldn't say anything. He held out his hand for you, and you took it and gave it a squeeze.

He guided you through the underground tunnels, even if you'd been going through them long enough to know where to go. He walked up the steps, and you absentmindly reached out to touch the faces carved into the walls as Vincent walked in front of you. You were following him like a lost little puppy, your mind elsewhere as you tried not to let memories of what happened the month before flood your mind. Surprisingly, you were able to find a pretty good distraction.

You thought about the images that Vincent had drawn, all the positions he must've imagined. Even if he was inexperienced, he definitely had quite the imagination. As Vincent guided you and you trailed behind him silently, your mind flooding with different images of all the ways Vincent could take you. On your back, one your stomach, on your knees. You tried not to blush as you thought a particular angle that made it clear Vincent had been imagining something slightly more self serving.

It made it so you could completely ignore all the terrible reminders of what you'd done, up until you were in the wax bedroom Vincent had created. You glanced at the bed, immediately imagining Vincent in-between your legs. And then you in-between his . It was almost unfair. Vincent seemed to know about every little dip and curve you had, how he knew that you'd figure out another time, but you had barely seen anything. A couple of flashes here or there, but Vincent was shy. He kept his clothes on even when you did some experimental touching. You bit your lip, just before Vincent signed,

"You okay?"

***

Vincent knew this was a bad idea, but he didn't want to force you to stay in the basement. Any time you came up into the House of Wax usually didn't end well, and his nerves only grew as your silence stretched on.

He watched how you bit your lip, refused to meet his eyes. How you seemed far off and in your own head, millions of miles away from him and where you were. He thought the flush on your cheeks was just from the heat of wearing his sweater. Why would it be from anything else?

Even when you nodded and assured him that you were fine, Vincent didn't believe you. He knew this was a bad idea. He knew he should've just waited until you went to take a nap. Then, he could've slipped away and been back before you ever knew the wiser. Instead, he'd brought you here and now you were- His self deprecating paused as you reached a hand under his sweater.

His hand instantly went around your wrist, but he didn't pull it away. It was out of surprise more than anything, but his grip quickly relaxed. Still, his bigger hands circled your wrist as your hand moved. It was just the lightest of touches, your fingertips barely brushing against his skin. You were touching the flesh of his side, before your hand was sliding up and you were moving your palm across his abdomen. Feeling his happy trail, before teasing the edge of his sweatpants. He stared down at you, watching as you gazed up at him. You were still biting your lip, your cheeks were still flushed, but he finally noticed the way your pupils had blown out and- Oh . Vincent wasn't the most experienced. It's probably why it took him this long to figure out what you'd been thinking about. Or what he assumed you were. A quick thought told him he was being silly, that you couldn't possibly want that.

Even as you leaned up to nip and kiss at his collarbone, as your hands pushed his shirt up further and felt the expanse of his chest. Even as you leaned forward to suck a hickey into his chest, leaving him practically trembling. He didn't believe you could want him like that up until you whispered,

***

"Vincent, can I touch you?" You watched as a look of surprise was quick to flit through his eye. He gave you a nod, almost a jerk of his head compared to his usual slow movements. You gave him a grin, before you were sliding your hand under his pants. You'd never been so bold before with him, but you couldn't help it. You wanted to know. Wanted to feel the weight in your hand. On your tongue.

You barely had to brush your fingers against the front of his briefs before you could feel that he was half-hard already. A few more light brushes and he was straining against the material of his underwear. Vincent let out a soft noise, the sound of a puff of air hitting his mask. You had barely touched him, but he already looked half-wrecked. It occurred to you then that Vincent probably wouldn't last long, and it was strange to you. To hold power over someone.

You pushed his sweatpants down his narrow hips, sinking onto your knees in front of him. He practically jumped when he realized what you were doing, and you quickly asked,

"Is this alright?" But he was quick to nod. He leaned back, resting back on the dresser he'd made. He motioned for you to continue, and you smiled up to him as you leaned forward to nuzzle the crotch of his pants. Your nose bumped along his clothed cock, before you were giving it an experimental lick through the fabric of his underwear. You heard him sigh again, and you watched as he tightened his grip on the edge of the dresser. "You're so handsome, Vincent." You whispered the praise, kissing along the waistband before you were tugging his underwear down. You looked up, seeing that his flush was heading down his neck and towards the tips of his ears. Once again you asked, "You're okay, right? You'll tell me if you want me to stop?" He'd started to fist his sweater, to bring it up to hide his face. He gave you another quick nod and you pulled him free. You gave him a few experimental pumps, leaning in to lick along his shaft to lubricate your hand. You watched how Vincent shivered at the feeling of your wet appendage, and you had to bite back a satisfied grin. After that, you didn't waste any time wrapping your mouth around the head of his cock.

You sucked him off slowly, flattening your tongue against the underside as you bobbed your head half-way. He was big, as big as his height and the size of his hands may have suggested, and thick. Even if you were more experienced than him, you found it difficult to fit him completely down your throat.

His hands tugged and pulled at the fabric of his sweater before one of them was cupping the back of your neck. He tilted his hips forward, rocking his hips ever so slightly with every bob of your head. This was the most noise you ever heard Vincent make. He let out little groans and sounds, half-keened whines and breathless gasps. He shivered and trembled with every flick of your tongue. You held his hips, thumbing them as you stared up at him through your lashes. He was keeping his head tossed back, his eye firmly closed from what you could tell. But when he'd finally looked down at you and made eye contact with you, you practically felt his resolve snap.

His hand moved from your neck to the back of your head. He only pressed your head down farther for a few thrusts, ones that practically slid his cock all the way down your throat, before you felt him tense. He held your head, doubling over as he slid his cock down the back of your throat. You could feel his cum hitting the back of your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow around his cock. You could feel tears in the corners of your eyes, and you tried to blink them away as you focused on trying not to gag. He let out a strangled sound, no doubt feeling the muscles of your throat work around his cock. His hips stuttered, before he was pulling out with panting breaths. He leaned back against dresser, his head falling back and strands of his hair falling out from his ponytail from where he'd gripped at it. You almost wished you could take a picture.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, watching him as he calmed himself down and you helped him tuck himself away. You lifted yourself to your feet with his help, and he signed a simple,

"You okay?" And you nearly laughed. Vincent seemed to ask you that at least five times a day.

"I'm fine. Are you okay?" You asked, prodding his chest. You heard him laugh, a soft and raspy sound. He gave you a nod, even if it still seemed like he was collecting himself. He reached out, running a hand through your hair before settling his palm against your cheek. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, running over the sensitive skin. You hummed, parting your lips and sucking his thumb into your mouth. You barely realized what you were doing before you did it, but you gave his thumb a slow suck as you ran your tongue over it. You watched as his eye darkened once more, and you squeaked when he pulled his hand away and tugged you up like you didn't weigh a thing.

You squealed and laughed when your back hit the wax mattress, which, despite looking comfortable, was only slightly less forgiving than if he'd shoved you against the wall. But you barely had time to think about that. Vincent was quickly pushing his mask away from his face and you shut your eyes out of habit. You felt his lips clumsily press against yours, and his confidence was either from the month of practice or from the rage of desire that was flooding his system. He boxed you in with one arm, his other hand quick to trace all the parts he'd already memorized. You giggled. You couldn't help it. You'd never felt Vincent so eager, so confident . It sent the rush of a thrill through you, and you were wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest against his to get him as close as possible.

"Touch me, touch me, touch me," You practically begged, your legs curling around his hips and drawing him closer. He groaned at the press of his front against yours, undeniably sensitive from before. He drew his lips from yours, mouthing down your cheek to your jaw until he reached your neck. His fingers weren't moving fast enough, and you pressed your chest against his hand to urge him further as he fondled you through your shirt. Even as he slipped his hand underneath, teasing and gently twisting your nipples, you knew it wouldn't be enough. You rolled your hips against his, trying to get any sort of friction as you tugged on his black strands of hair. He moaned against your skin, before his lips were attempting to clamp back onto yours. You begged for more, and Vincent wasn't one to keep you waiting. His hand rubbed you through the fabric of your bottoms, and he swallowed the moan that left your lips. He traced your heat through the fabric, pressing hard enough to feel his touch.

It wasn't enough until his hand was slipping inside, slipping past your panties and running his bare fingertips through the folds of your cunt. You whined, gripping his shoulders and bucking your hips against his hand. Vincent pulled away from the kiss, but you were too distracted to care as you guided his fingers over your aching clit.

***

Vincent was watching you, memorizing the expressions you made as you screwed your eyes closed and gasped. You gasped and whined, bucking and practically throbbing against his hand. When he dipped his fingers inside you, he found feel your walls sucking his fingers up. Trying to drag them deeper and swallow them in your warm, wet heat.

His cock was already heavy and hard in his sweatpants again, but he fought the urge to grind against your thigh as he fingered you. This was about you. He pressed the heel of his palm against the spot you'd lead him to, watching the way you shuddered and trembled underneath him. He drew everything in, only muffling your sounds when he needed your lips against his.

He kissed you anywhere his lips reached, trying to silently tell you how beautiful you were. How precious you looked. Everything that he couldn't sign to you with your eyes closed and one of his hands down your pants, his fingers buried and thrusting inside of you.

***

You whimpered as he pushed you further and further, your hips jerking as Vincent listened to every word you told him. He moved his fingers just so, seeming to even listen just to the way your voice would change. You'd been touched before, either by yourself or by your ex, but you couldn't remember a time you'd been listened to so eagerly before. Had someone that could reach the spots inside you that you couldn't.

"Right there, Vincent. Ah- Just like that." He rubbed that spot over and over until your hips were jerking. Whether to get closer or farther away you didn't know. But Vincent pulled back almost completely. You could feel his weight shift, and then you felt his other hand holding you down by pressing his large hand flat against your stomach. So you couldn't move and so you were forced to feel . "Oh, Vincent ." Your voice went up an octave. You tried to fist the sheets of the bed, but all you did was scrape your nails against the wax. You tried to move your hips, but you couldn't. You tried to shift away from the intensity of the pleasure, of how he'd shifted from using the heel of his palm and instead circled your clit with his thumb, but he was relentless. Persistent with his pleasure.

You felt close to tears, a stream of cries and praise leaving your lips before you could feel your thighs start to shake. Your abdomen start to tense. You reached to hold onto his forearm, your nails biting into his skin as the other gripped your own hair. You came around his fingers, a cry of his name leaving your lips as you arched your head back. He didn't stop, even if his actions slowed. You shivered and trembled through the aftershocks, twitching before you finally begged him,

"Open." And you knew that you hadn't been mistaken. It was rare that you heard his voice. You were almost sure that it had been the first time. You knew he didn't speak simply because it pained him to do so, and you knew that he wouldn't do it unless he was absolutely sure. So, slowly, you peeled open your eyes and looked into the half-scarred face of your lover. Your hand glided over the smooth, untouched side of his face. One that was identical to Bo's. You didn't dare touch the scar tissue, as you didn't want to potentially hurt him. But, still, your eyes glided over it as if there wasn't a blemish there. Softly, you whispered,

"Okay, okay, okay, enough. Fuck- Vincent, I can't-" And he finally drew his hand away. You panted and relaxed, slumping against the solid block of wax and waiting until Vincent told you he was ready for you to look. Instead, you felt the plushness of his lips press against yours. It was soft and short, before he was kissing you again. And again, and again. You giggled, running your fingers through the strands of his hair and kissing him back each time. He kissed your cheek and your forehead, before he pressed soft kisses to the back of your eyelids. They nearly fluttered open, but then Vincent did it again. You made a face, questioning if you thought he was telling you to do what you thought he was. Then, he did it again and you heard the raspy whisper of the word,

"Hello, handsome." And you finally got to watch him blush properly.

#house of wax #house of wax (2005)#house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years

Text

The Proposals

MAIN MASTERLIST

bucky barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,325ish

Summary: Bucky tries to propose to you, but nothing ever works.

Bucky knew on the second date, that he was going to marry you. But he also knew, that it would freak you out that if on date three, he asked you to marry him. So he waited. But a man in love could only wait so long. By the time you and him had been dating for seven months, Bucky couldn’t wait any longer. He dragged Steve and Sam to jewelry stores across New York, in search of the perfect ring.

After losing hope for the perfect ring, Tony offered to design one. For free. Bucky struggled with Tony’s offer, but eventually gave in once Tony and Steve showed him the sketches and mock ups they’d put together. Wanda and Natasha helped put everything together when the night came. There were lights strung up everywhere on top of the compound, a small table was set up for the two to enjoy dinner, and Bucky and ordered your favorite meal. Bucky had been nervous all day, he got dressed in his best suit hours before you two were scheduled for your date.

You were suppose to be coming home from a long Avengers business trip tonight. You had been going to different countries, advocating for the Avengers Initiative. Bucky and you talked everyday, but that was not enough for either of you. You were currently on your way back to the compound, flying on a quinjet from London. Exhausted, you decided to put the quinjet into autopilot and get a few moments of sleep before your date with Bucky tonight. The blissful thought of sleep soon was far away when a call came in from Fury.

“I have an emergency assignment for you,” he stated.

“Sir, I’m just coming off a long assignment,” you explained. “All I want to do is see my boyfriend and sleep.”

“You’re the closest to the emergency. I’ve already got your quinjet rerouting to the location and the information of the mission is being sent to you.”

“But—“

“And I have Rogers in charge of telling Barnes that you won’t make it. Good luck.”

You sighed, running a hand down your face before getting up and changing into your hero gear. All you longed for is a lazy night with Bucky but, as you skimmed through the information Fury sent, that seemed to be a few more days away.

Steve, on the other hand, was trying to pawn Fury’s assignment off on anyone else on the team. No one would take it. They were all hiding in the lab, trying to get someone to go up to the roof and tell Bucky the news. They had all witnessed his nervousness all day, and were even subject to some aggression from it. So they were all a little scared for their lives when it came to telling him that you wouldn’t be home for a few more days. Eventually, when the time came that you were suppose to be arriving home, Sam gave in and sat that he’d do it, as long as everyone else came as back up. They all agreed and headed up to the roof.

Bucky was pacing like crazy when they arrived. Tony had to suppress the urge to make a comment about wearing through the roof the closer they got.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve called. He had really tried to control his tone, but his best friend was an assassin. There was no hiding from him.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky quickly asked, fear taking over his whole figure. “Did something happen? Please tell me that Y/N’s okay.”

“She’s okay, Barnes,” Sam stepped forward. “She just won’t be able to make it tonight.”

Bucky’s face fell. “What? Why?”

“Fury called her in on another assignment. Looks like she won’t be able to come home for another couple of days.”

The team all flinched as Bucky’s metal hand hit the table, making the objects on it go flying. They all took a step back as they watched the anger in him grow. He suddenly flipped the table over before stomping to the roof stairs. The rest of the team stood their watching, feeling bad for him. They all knew that Bucky was nervous about this and that it was hard for the man to be open like this, but there was nothing that could have been done.

Bucky was moody the rest of the days you were gone. No one could stand to be around him, mostly because they were a kind of afraid for their lives. When he wasn’t taking his feelings out in the training room, he was locked away in your shared bedroom. Four days after the planned proposal, you stumbled out of the quinjet. The mission had not been as easy as Fury made it out to be. You were successful, but you were now more exhausted than you ever thought possible, had a bleeding cut down your leg, and you were pretty sure your ankle was sprained.

Everyone was there waiting for you in the hanger and were not happy to see your condition as you stumbled from the quinjet. Bucky was the least amount of happy about your condition. Anger was again his best friend. But the more he watched you move closer to him, the more worried he became. Bucky rushed over, immediately sweeping you up into his arms, bridal style.

“Oh, doll,” he whispered, his eyes worriedly raking over your wounds.

“I’m fine, Buck,” you said quietly, clearly worn out. “Just tired.”

“Let’s get you to the med bay.”

The proposal was long forgotten in the midst of taking care of you. Yes, Bucky wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. But it was more important right now that you get healed. You were ordered off your leg for at least a month. Not making you very happy, but Bucky was. That meant that you were kept safe from harm and he could take care of you whenever he wasn’t away on missions.

Both Natasha and Wanda pushed Bucky to try and propose several times while you were benched and he was taking care of you. But nothing ever worked. He’d get called away on a last minute mission or you’d be too exhausted from physical therapy to do anything. He tried 4 times during the time you were benched, nothing worked. And Bucky was getting frustrated.

After about two and a half months, you were given the clearance to train and put weight on the leg again. And Bucky went back to planning another proposal. He knew he didn’t want to do the same thing he had planned to the last time, bad luck and all. So this time, he was going simpler. He planned a movie night, just the two of you. Bucky bought all your favorite treats and your favorite pizza. The only thing he forgot to mention, apparently, was the fact that it was a date. He was getting everything set up when you walked in with Tony, Bruce, and Sam.

“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled, coming up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Theses guys told me that they were bored tonight. So I invited them to our moving night. Is that okay?”

Bucky’s hands clenched into fists as he looked at the men behind him. He immediately reprimanded himself for not letting the team in on his plan. When his eyes came down to look at you, he was met with your best puppy dog face and he could never say no to that.

“Sure,” he grumbled. “Why not.”

“Thank, babe!” You gave him a peck on the lips before helping the others get settled.

The rest of the night, Bucky was constantly crumpling things in his hands while he felt like the small box in his pocket was burning a hole into thigh. You were too engrossed in the movie and talking to Tony to notice Bucky’s irritation. But Sam did, and simply just smirked at the man.

When the others had left and Bucky and you had started cleaning up, you began to notice his mood by his silence and way he was throwing things away.

“What’s wrong, babe?” You asked, folding up a blanket.

“Nothing,” Bucky answered, far too quickly.

“Are you sure?” You moved to stand in front of him, curling your arms around his waist. “Did Tony say something to upset you, or Sam even?”

“None of them said anything. I’m fine.” He pushed away from you, moving into the kitchen with the trash.

“I don’t believe you.” You followed him closely. “Why won’t you tell me the truth?”

“I am!” Bucky yelled, turning sharply to face you.

You jumped back, taken back by his reaction. Bucky had never raised his voice at you, ever. Tears pricked your eyes as you tried to calm your racing heart. Bucky’s anger slowly faded, being replaced by guilt as he watched you shrink into yourself.

“Doll, I—“ He went to apologize and reach out for you but you took another step back.

“I don’t know what happened tonight to make you mad,” your voice quivered as you spoke, “but that reaction was not okay.”

“I’m so sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to shout.”

“Yet you did.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m going to go sleep somewhere else tonight. Let you calm down.”

“No,” Bucky frantically shook his head. “Please, don’t.” He tried to reach for you again, but you walked away.

“Some sleep might do you some good, Buck. We’ll talk in the morning.”

And then you were gone. Bucky fell back against the fridge and slid down it, head buried in his hands. He’d really done it now. You were never going to accept his proposal now.

You spent the night in Natasha’s bed, since she was away on a mission. Though, you didn’t get much sleep. You never did when you weren’t with Bucky, and same with him. And it clearly showed on the both of you in the morning. Dark bags under the eyes, slow movements, blood shot eyes, and solemn expressions. To the rest of the team, it was clear that something happened last night. They were just all too scared to ask what.

Bucky spent most of the next day in the training room, taking out his aggression, while you spent most of the day in your and Bucky’s shared space in the compound. You were trying to rack your mind around why Bucky had been acting so ornery lately. You were in your room when Steve called you in for a mission. It was going to be a smaller mission with just you and Steve. You were getting ready when Bucky walked into the room.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” Bucky stated.

Those words cause your heart to crack a little. Those were never good to hear. “Yes, Buck?” You replied, still getting ready while trying to keep yourself together.

“There’s something that’s been on my mind lately and I— wait. Where are you going?”

“Steve’s asked me to join him on a mission.”

“Already? I know you were approved, but are you sure? I’m worried that you—“

“Well you don’t need to be. I’ll be fine.” You flung your backpack over shoulder. “Will you be?”

“Will I be?”

“You’ve been acting strange lately. And then you come in saying that we need to talk… Bucky…” You sighed. “Did you come in to break up with me?”

“Break up with you? No!” He shook his head. “I would never.”

“Then what’s going on? You’ve been so aggravated lately and yesterday… well… you’ve never shouted at me like that before… it honestly hurt.”

“Baby…” He walked up to you, setting a gentle hand on your cheek. “I’m so sorry about last night. I just… I’ve been trying to…” His hand fell down to his side with a sigh. “I was going to propose,” he mumbled.

“What?” Your jaw dropped.

“And it hasn’t been the first time I tried… I’m sorry for taking it out on you. I was just so frustrated that none of my plans have worked.”

“Y-you…. You’ve been trying to propose? For how long?”

“My first attempt was when you were suppose to come home after your long business trip. But then Fury sent you on a mission and you came home injured… I tried multiple other times, but then I was called away or you were too tired. Then last night, that’s why I ordered your favorite pizza and snacks. I just wanted it to be you and me and—”

“And then I invited the boys. Oh, Buck.” You engulfed him in a hug. “I’m so sorry. Will you ever forgive me?”

“I would always forgive you.”

You and Bucky let your lips meet for a kiss. Upon parting, you decided to be brave.

“So,” you whispered, “are you going to ask me?”

Bucky quickly retrieved the small box from his pocket and opened it as he got down on one knee. “Y/N L/N, I love you will everything I have. I can’t picture my life without you. Will you—“

“Hey, Y/N,” Steve called, barging into the room. “Are you— woah.” He froze, studying the situation in front of him. “Am I interrupting something?”

Bucky groaned, allowing his head to fall against your stomach. You laughed as you set your hands on Bucky’s head.

“You think?” You giggled.

“I’m just gonna— yeah,” Steve rushed as he ran out.

“Is he gone?” Bucky said into your stomach.

“He’s gone. Now hurry before the team shows up.”

He leaned back into his original position. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

“Hallelujah,” Bucky muttered as he slipped the ring on your finger.

“Hurry up and kiss me so that we can escape before we’re never left alone again.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes #the winter soldier #the winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter solider imagine #the winter solider x reader #winter solider x reader #winter solider imagine

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missdawnandherdusk · 3 years

Text

Will You Go With Me?

Neville X Reader

Summary: Ginny turns Neville’s proposal to the Yule Ball, and you go to comfort him finding yourself in quite a situation.

A/n: I have no idea where this came from but boy is it PRECIOUS. It’s soft and fluffy and cute and Neville is just the best. It’s just a drabble so about 1k words, but so precious.

I was in the common room curled up with a book when I watched the events unfold before me and there was nothing that I wanted more than to curl up in my book and to not witness them.

“So, Ginny,” Neville dared to approach the fiery redhead, “I was thinking that maybe, you know that if you’re uh, not going to the Ball... with anyone yet, maybe that possibly you and I could go... maybe?” Stumbling over his words, he as flushed to the color of her hair, presenting a flower that he had no doubt grown himself. The tangible awkwardness could be cut with a knife.

“Wow,” Ginny stood, flustered. “That’s... totally sweet of you. But uh... someone else already asked me, sorry,” She left quickly after that and Neville sank down to the nearest couch, twirling the flower between his fingers.

I got up, setting my book down. Neville and I never really talked before. He was in some of my classes and when we were paired together, he’d keep his head down and barely say a word. I left something to be desired.

“Hey Neville,” I approached slowly.

“Sorry I’ll move,” He stood immediately.

“No, wait, hang on,” I reached out for him. “Sit,” I gestured as we both took our place. I... um, just wanted to say that I saw what happened with Ginny and I think it was totally unfair,” His unsteady hazel eyes flashed to mine. “Any girl in the school would be lucky to go to the Ball with a guy as nice as you,” I offered a smile and stood.

“Really? You mean that?” He looked hopeful.

“I do,” I went to go back to my book. To be fair I should have seen it coming.

“Will you go with me?” He offered his flower out, catching me off guard. He asked again. “Will you go to the Ball with me?”

“...Yes.” With a hesitant smile I took the flower he offered.

“Awesome,” The light shining in his eyes was something that I couldn’t dare take away. “I’ll uh... pick you up at six?” I nodded and he left the common room leaving me to my thoughts.

To tell the truth, I never planned on going with anyone to the Ball. I had a few friends who were going, and we were going as a crew. It was easy and nothing to stress about. I looked at the flower in my hands and smiled to myself. Maybe it wouldn’t be so awful to go with Neville. I just didn’t know anything about him.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Ginny rushed back into the common room. “I’m so glad you said yes. I felt just awful,”

“I... yeah. It’ll be fun,” I smiled. “Neville is a sweet guy,”

It was the next day that I ran into a dilemma McLaggen in the common room. The Gryffindor Seeker had no insecurity as he walked up to me amidst the other students. It had been no secret that McLaggen had been trying to initiate something with me over the past few years. If he wasn’t so egotistical and bigoted, I might have said yes.

“So, Y/l/n,” He grinned. “Go to the ball with me,” He didn’t make it a question.

“Oh, uh, someone already asked me,” I gave.

“Who? Longbottom?” He laughed. “You can’t be serious. Ditch the nerd and go with a real man,”

From across the room my eyes met Neville’s. In despair, he shook his head and left the common room like a bat out of hell. My heart fell, clearly distracted.

“I doubt that’s you,” I snapped. “Keep dreaming McLaggen. At least Neville was a gentleman when he asked.” I pushed past him and the ruffling that out little scene caused in the common room and went to look for Neville.

The corridor was empty. Looking to the left and right, the cold night gave no answer as to which way Neville went. Muttering to myself, I took a chance of where he might be. Maybe I knew something about him after all.

“Neville?” I asked the greenhouse softly. “Are you in here?”

There was a rustling in the corner. A stool scraping against the tile floor.

“Neville, I want to talk,” I pleaded, making my way over to the sound. I found him hunched over a notebook, focused on the lines his pencil made.

“You want to go with McLaggen,” He didn’t look up. “I get it,”

“No,” I corrected. “Even if I did want to go with the sleaze ball,” I muttered offhand. “I still made the promise to you, and I’m not going to break that promise,”

He finally looked up.

“Really?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” I smiled, taking the seat beside him. “You have to give yourself some more credit Neville. You really are a sweet guy,”

“You barely know me,” He mumble.

“Yeah... I thought that too. But I found you here didn’t I? That’s gotta count for something,”

“I suppose it does,” Neville smiled up at me. “You really turned McLaggen down?”

“Yes,” I laughed, gaze falling and catching sight of his paper. “Did you draw this?” I was amazed. It was a perfect replica of the flower he had given me.

“Uh, uh, yes,” He stammered, growing red.

“Can I see it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, delighting in how flustered he always got. He slid the paper toward me, bashful.

“This is incredible,” I ran my finger over the sketch. “What kind of flower is it? The one you gave me? I’m not very good at plant names unless they’re the common ones,” I admitted.

“Anemone coronaria,” Neville said matter-of-factly. “It originates from the Mediterranean and its name comes from the Greek meaning wind. They come in a lot of colors based on what soil you use, I’m partial to the white ones, but that’s just...me.” He caught my eye as he ended, growing flustered again. “Sorry I tend to rant. I know plants aren’t all that interesting,”

“I think they are,” I reached out and covered his hand with my own. “Neville?” His eyes met mine, “Will you go to the Ball with me?”

“Wh—I—okay,” He stammered, grinning at his lap. “I’d love to,”

masterlist

more like this:

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pride and prejudice

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sweetiejunie · 3 years

Text

Txt reaction to having a smart s/o

Genre: fluff

💕 Requested: txt reaction to SO who is really educated/working on her masters/does well in school/research - can code n all that jazz

A/n: repost cause it wasn’t showing up in search results. I thought it would fix itself like usual but it didnt :’)

======================================

Intellect

—.*•—

Yeonjun

He’s never asked too much about your background

At least in terms of your education

He knew you studied part time for something having to do with computers, but not much of the specifics

One day he went over to your apartment announced to surprise you

Instead he found you on your living room floor aggressively typing something on your laptop

At first he thought a coworker had pissed you off and you replying with angry reply

But when he peeked at your screen he just saw lines and lines of text in different colours that he couldn’t understand

And that’s when he realised you were coding and honestly, he’d just be in awe

“Hey babe. When did you learn how to code?”

“Didnt i tell you i took a course for coding a while ago? I just do this for fun now.”

Well damn, he didn’t know he had someone so smart for a s/o

Instantly he would cancel whatever plans he initially had for the two of you and proceed to sit next to you and ask what every line you typed meant

“What’s this one mean?” He’d ask pointing to line you just typed

“That’s just for the colour of the words.”

And this went went on for almost every other line

—.*•—

Soobin

Soobin always loved listening to your random trivia knowledge

Like “soobin did you know that if you yawn when someone else yawns it shows you have empathy?”

Or “did you know that 210 stars explode every 7 seconds?”

And even the dumber ones like “did you know the game among us actually came out in 2018?”

And every time you said something like this out of the blue, he wouldn’t stop you

He loved listening to you talk about such things

He thought you were the cutest when you spoke about whatever it was going on in your mind

Sometimes he swears that you’re like a computer that has 20 different tabs open at once

Even when you would even speak for lengthy periods of time, he never cared, even if he didn’t remember much of what you said, he would still listen in the moment

Just smiling to himself and watching the gestures and facial expressions you would make

And let’s be real, he would be so much more distracted just watching you talk than actually trying to process what it was you’re saying

Loves to ask you random questions to see if you know the answers cause he knew how happy you were talking about these random topics

—.*•—

Beomgyu

He knew you were busy studying for your bachelors degree

But that doesn’t mean he wanted any less time with you

So he decided it would be a good idea to go look for you on your campus

After much wandering around and asking for directions to the science block, he eventually found you in one of the labs

He wasn’t allowed in — for obvious reasons — so he watched you from outside

You were wearing a lab coat and goggles, dissecting something that he couldn’t quite make out

In that moment he realised how hard you’ve been working, and how smart you actually were

He wouldn’t have a clue what to do in there, but everything was so natural for you

When you finally saw him on the other side of the window and exited the room he would pull you into a tight hug and tell you how proud he was

When you were actually done, he would ask you so many questions about what you studied and what you were doing

“I was just dissecting a mammal heart, my teacher wanted us to sketch out the pulmonary value in the right ventricle for our next class.”

He probably couldn’t understand half the words you were saying, but nontheless he still pretended like he did

—.*•—

Taehyun

You loved reading, be it fantasy books, mystery books, thriller books etc

But you never really read infront of taehyun before since you didn’t like having to carrying around a physical book everywhere

And taehyun never knew about this

That is until he went to your apartment and found the wall of books you had in your room

“Did you read all these?”

“Oh, yeah. They’re really interesting. I just finished reading ‘the shadows between us.”

He’s never been much of a fan of ‘reading for fun’

He never understood how looking at words on a white paper could be interesting, like theres a movie, why would you spend so many more hours reading it instead?

So he was somewhat shocked when he found out you did

He probably went on to ask you about the story and what happens in the book

And wants to borrow the book from you to give reading it a go

In the end, he ends up buying you so many new books. Whenever you go out together and pass by a book shop he would ask if you want to go in. Or if he’s alone and sees a book he thinks you’ll like he’ll just get it

—.*•—

Huening Kai

Caught you studying late one day, fast asleep on the textbook you were reading

He’s told you many times not to over do it, but you never listened

He carefully tucked you into bed and went back to keep your book

His eyes glanced over the page you were at and a picture of a dog caught his interest

Deciding to find out what you were studying, he read a page

The page spoke about ivan povlov and his work on classical conditioning

Honestly, he barely understood what it wrote and was thankful he didn’t have to study such things when he was in school

He’d be amazed how you could do this on the daily and even make notes about it

The next day he would ask you so many questions about it

Asking you who ivan pavlov was and how he could be so cruel to the dog and also about poor Little Albert

He’d be more concerned about the wellbeing of the subjects rather than the actual experiment.

======================================

Ik some of this wouldn’t be considered ‘smart’ but i just wanted to write them. Nonetheless hope u enjoyed this 💕

#txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt post #yeonjun fanfic #beomgyu fanfic #txt reactions #txt imagine #soobin fanfic #taehyun fanfic #hueningkai fanfic

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

Honeysuckle

Summary: The BAU decide to head out for a picnic one summer afternoon, but they’re soon rudely interrupted by a bee sting and anaphylactic shock. Seeing Spencer carted off in an ambulance is not exactly how they expected the day to go.

Tags: whump, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, hurt spencer, friendship, medical conditions, severe allergic reactions

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.3k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

Spencer had initially been wary of Penelope’s invitation to picnic in Meridian Hill Park one beautiful summer afternoon — he burned way too easily and didn’t like exposing himself to insects more than absolutely necessary — but as soon as she’d mentioned Derek was going, he’d given in. He wasn’t about to turn down an afternoon spent in the sun with his best friends and boyfriend. It was a rare day off for the team: one not even spent hanging by their phone expecting to be called in any minute, so they were all insistent on making the most of it.

He’s the last one to arrive, spotting the others sat in the shade of an oak tree, already laughing as they get stuck into their first drinks of the afternoon. Despite his initial hesitations, as soon as he feels the sun on his face and sees his friends he’s immediately glad he turned up and he hurries over to join the rest of the team, his own contributions to the picnic in hand.

“Pretty boy!” Derek shouts, grinning widely as he jumps up from his lazy position on the blanket to wrap Spencer in a hug, before pulling back slightly to kiss him. He can already tell he’s a little tipsy, and although Spencer doesn’t drink he has nothing against everyone else letting their hair down and having fun; God knows they deserve it.

His relationship with Derek is only a few months old, and he still relishes every moment he gets to spend wrapped up in his arms.

“Hey guys.” His words are muffled slightly by Derek’s shoulder as his boyfriend is reluctant to let him go, but as soon as he’s released, he turns to match everyone’s wide grins.

“Did you bring the strawberries?” Emily asks, levelling him with a faux-stern look that she can’t maintain for long, melting back into her relaxed smile soon enough.

“Of course.” He takes a seat on the picnic blanket only to be immediately wrapped into a side hug by Penelope. He hugs back before beginning to unpack his bag.

“What about the icing sugar?” she asks, and her stern glare isn’t fake at all: Spencer knows how seriously Penelope takes a) organisation, and b) sweet treats.

“Who do you take me for?” he laughs, retrieving the fruit and sugar from his bag and taking a swig of the cool lemonade he’d packed in his thermos.

Sometimes he wishes he could go back in time and show lonely, teenage Spencer pictures of days like these. One day, he’ll be twenty six, working at his dream job, and spending his days off in the warmth of the East Coast sun one Sunday afternoon surrounded by his best friends, kissed by his boyfriend at every opportunity. They’ve never asked him to be anything other than exactly who he is, inviting them into their group and doting on him relentlessly, loving him just as much as he loves them.

It’s a luxury you only appreciate when you’ve known the loneliness of summer: when the hum of the AC is the only sound in your stuffy, humid dorm room, and you’re researching the effects of methane on winter weather patterns as you long for cold weather again, because then at least then you don’t have to listen to the excited shouts of friends outside anymore, then it’s acceptable to isolate yourself inside with only yourself and books for company.

He shakes himself out of his miserable recollections and reminds himself to be in the present. Emily has her head in Penelope’s lap as they discuss which incarnation of Doctor Who is the best while JJ and Derek discuss the new jogging park opening up across the border in Virginia. He knows which conversation is more suited to his interests and immediately goes up to bat for the Seventh Doctor, which manages to engage him in a spirited debate with both women.

Soon, though, they find themselves all discussing their workplace embarrassments and recalling the funniest moments from over the last few years, and Spencer loses himself in the heat of the afternoon and the warmth of his friendships. He’s gorged himself on all the strawberries and sandwiches he could stomach, and as the afternoon stretches longer and evening approaches he lies down on the blanket and rests his head in Derek’s lap, mirroring Penelope and Emily. His eyes flutter closed as his full belly and heat of the sun tire him out, and Derek’s fingers thread themselves through Spencer’s long hair, a light and welcome touch.

The haze of his friends still chatting around him as he dozes comfortably is interrupted, however, when he feels a sharp pinch on his wrist and seconds later, he’s fighting for breath. He launches upright, wheezing as he claws at his chest, trying desperately to fill his lungs with enough air.

“Spencer? Oh my God, Spencer, what’s wrong?” Penelope cries, immediately by his side as she looks him over frantically, not knowing what’s happening.

“Derek, call an ambulance,” JJ directs, taking charge as she rushes to Spencer’s side as well. “He’s in anaphylactic shock. Spencer, listen to me, do you have your epi-pen with you?”

Her words manage to get through the panicked haze and light-headedness as he can’t get enough oxygen. He can feel his face swelling and his heart racing, but he’s still coherent enough to point to his bag.

“He didn’t eat anything, though,” Emily says, panicked and confused as she watches her friend have a medical crisis while she’s powerless to help.

“He’s allergic to bees,” JJ says, keeping calm as she prepares the epi-pen and administers it to Spencer’s thigh. “One must have stung him for some reason.”

“There!” Penelope points to the bee sting on Spencer’s wrist and JJ lunges for her bag, rummaging until she finds her credit card which she uses to carefully slide under the stinger and remove it, preventing any more venom from flowing into Spencer’s system.

It’s clear after a few minutes that the epi-pen hasn’t worked: Spencer still feels like he can’t catch his breath and the world is fading slowly as his heart beats out of control and his organs can’t get enough oxygen.

He feels himself be moved gently by various hands as JJ directs the others until he’s leaning up as comfortably as possible against Derek’s chest as Penelope elevates his legs to keep blood flowing to his vital organs.

“It’s okay, Spencer,” JJ says loudly, right in front of his face. It’s blurry and out of focus and he can feel himself losing consciousness fast. “The ambulance is on its way.”

It’s the last thing he hears before he collapses completely as he passes out.

⭐️

It’s dark outside when Spencer finally wakes up. His bed is warm and comfortable and he lets himself listen to the somewhat comfortable steady beeps of the heart monitor and movement of staff and patients around the ward before finally opening his eyes to scan his room.

Derek’s sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair right next to his bed, sketching what Spencer can only guess are plans for the property he’s just taken on, an empty jello cup balancing on the armrest of his chair.

“Sandwiches and strawberries not fill you up?” he asks, voice croaky as he cracks an eye open. He can’t help but smile, too. He has the best boyfriend and the best friends anyone could ever hope for.

Derek’s head snaps up as he hears Spencer’s voice, setting his notebook and jello aside to grab for Spencer’s hand. “You are something else,” he chuckles. “Your first thought when coming round from a medical disaster is an observation of my eating patterns.” He shakes his head fondly. “ But you know I can’t pass up a tub of jello.”

“That’s true. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you say no when it’s offered.”

“You’re one to talk, pretty boy.”

They lapse into short silence, accompanied only by the quiet beeps of the machines. “Sorry I scared you,” he whispers eventually, feeling guilt wrap itself around his stomach.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not your fault.” Derek looks sincere as he holds Spencer’s hand tighter, careful of the IV in his wrist. “The doctors… they said it was a severe attack, which is probably why the first epi-pen didn’t work. They’re monitoring you overnight to make sure there was no damage to your kidneys, I think. I’ll go find a doctor to tell them you’re awake.”

He moves to get out of his seat, but Spencer pulls him back down, as well as he can when he’s still feeling weak. “No, just… don’t leave,” he asks, his voice coming out a little too pleading for his liking. “Stay.”

The idea of being alone right now twists his stomach; the idea of being without Derek so desperately scary.

“Okay, okay, baby,” Derek relents, sitting back down and running a soothing hand through his tangled hair, Spencer’s eyes fluttering closed at the contact. “I won’t go anywhere if you don’t want me to.” Instead, he presses the button for the nurse.

“Where are the others?” Spencer dares to ask after a few seconds of quiet.

“The nurses weren’t too happy with four people in here,” Derek chuckles. “I’ve been updating them by text; I’ll tell them you’re awake in a minute. JJ saved your life, you know. None of us had any clue what was happening but she was the only one who kept calm and the only one who got us through those awful minutes waiting for the ambulance to show up.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I told her I was allergic to bee stings years ago. It was just an off-hand comment, it never feels like that big a deal… this is only the third time this has ever happened. I guess I don’t feel the need to bring it up.”

“Well that off-hand comment saved your life, pretty boy.” Derek squeezes his eyes closed for a second, and when he opens them the emotion written on his face is heart-wrenching. “God, I can’t believe I could’ve lost you. There were a good few minutes there when I didn’t think you were gonna make it and after… Tobias… I was just so scared.”

Spencer’s stomach clenches at that, imagining the roles reversed is terrifying just as a hypothetical. He can’t even begin to imagine how Derek felt. He reaches a hand out to touch Derek’s face gently, squeezing his hand with the other. “But you didn’t lose me,” he murmurs. “I’m here, I’m okay.”

“Yeah.” His voice is barely a whisper as his eyes close again. “Is it bad that I kind of want bees to go extinct now?” he asks with a wet chuckle a few moments later.

“Derek!” Spencer laughs weakly, acting scandalised. “Bees are fundamental to the global ecosystem. Civilisation would effectively collapse if bees went extinct, it’s definitely not worth eradicating bees for the sake of me avoiding the rarity of anaphylactic shock, not according to the laws of proportionality. It’s actually frightening how fast the bee population is depleting though… did you know that there are only about 2.5 million honey-producing hives left in the US? That’s down from 4.5 million in 1980 and the loss has largely been attributed to colony collapse disorder—”

“Ah, Doctor Reid, you’re awake.” A smiling nurse bustles through the door and comes to check his vitals, fiddling with one of his IVs before taking a step back. “How’s your breathing? Is the nasal cannula okay or would you prefer a full mask?”

“The cannula’s good,” he says, smiling politely. Really, he just wants to get back to telling Derek all the bee facts he can recall. He has some really good ones itching to be let out. “I’m breathing fine, just feel a little weak still.”

“Good. Your vitals all look stable, so a doctor will be round in the morning to talk you through your treatment and medication. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine, thank you,” Spencer nods, and she gives them one last smile before leaving the room and sliding the door shut quietly behind her.

“I should bring her back in,” Derek chuckles as the nurse leaves the room. “She missed out on your bee lecture. Fascinating stuff.”

“Shut up,” Spencer huffs, sinking back against the pillows. “You don’t deserve to hear my bee facts.”

“No,” Derek protests, grinning widely. “I’m joking, baby, carry on. You were telling me about colony collapse disorder.”

Spencer knows that, of course — he does have an eidetic memory after all — but it makes him smile that Derek remembers exactly where he was in his spiel. Maybe Penelope’s onto something when she says that Derek is “whipped” for him. (It had taken at least fifteen minutes for Spencer to fully understand what she meant by that, mostly because he kept asking about the etymology, history, and statistical usage of the word and she kept rolling her eyes, which he would then insist was not an answer.)

“Colony collapse disorder is depressing,” Spencer sighs, feeling quite tired all of a sudden. “I don’t feel like explaining it.”

“It doesn’t sound great.” Derek goes back to threading his fingers through Spencer’s hair. “Why don’t you tell me your favourite three bee facts, and then you can go back to sleep”

Spencer hums, giving it a bit of thought before replying. “Scientists trained bees to score goals in bee soccer in return for a sugary treat, which is especially interesting because they have brains the size of a poppy seed. They communicate with one another by wiggling their butts. It’s like their own language, they tell their nestmates where to go to get the best food. Bees also live in loads of different places, not just in the countryside. My favourite place they live is in marshes and wetlands, because I love insects that live in watery areas.”

“I’d pay to watch bees play soccer,” Derek laughs quietly. “You’re so smart, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

Spencer sighs happily. “Love you,” he murmurs, eyes closing against the exhaustion.

“I love you more.”

Spencer isn’t awake long enough to argue with him.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii @hotchgans @suburban--gothic @takeyourleap-of-faith

#my writing #moreid #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #moreid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fic #spencer reid whump #spencer reid angst #moreid whump #moreid angst #moreid fluff #hurt spencer reid

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bookersebastien · 3 years

Text

some holiday hcs for nile’s first christmas with the guard

it’s nile’s first christmas since becoming immortal and she’s watching the season approach as they travel around the world, watching those who celebrate put up lights and trees and she enjoys the stops they make in a snowy place

she’s missing her family even more, having been a daughter of a man in the military the holidays were probably hard to deal with while he was deployed and then after he died her mom and brother, they all clung to each other. and now she has none of them

they all notice the change in her demeanor and the way she admires the decorations and the families strolling the streets and shopping together and they form a plan

joe and booker are sent to pick a tree, joe uses booker as a height comparison to make sure they get one with a good height and then there is the inevitable struggle of them tying it to the roof of the car because they can’t stop arguing about how to do it and joe suggest multiple times that booker can just hang onto the roof and hold the tree down

booker does not like this idea, but in joe’s defense he’s nearly as big as the tree so he could probably do it - ends with joe driving very slow while booker sighs loudly in the passenger seat

quynh drags nicky to get decorations, she’s spent 500 years in the ocean, doesn’t matter whether she celebrates christmas, she’d absolutely love all the decorations and lights and tells andy, “we need that giant light up snowman andromache please”

also competitive quynh making sure their decorations are better than anyone else’s in the area

no one knows who the fuck lives in that apartment but they know they DO NOT fuck around with christmas decorations

nicky gets lost in the store, admiring all the lights and decorations and he ends up getting a matching pair of the ugliest fucking christmas sweaters you’ve ever seen in your life and one of those stupid hats with the elf ears on it

he doesn’t care much of the holiday for celebrating jesus or whatever, but enjoys the festivities and the chance to wear ridiculous clothing with joe

joe and booker return with the tree, booker grumbling something about a squirrel attack while they put the tree in their small living room

andy is out with nile, keeping her out of the apartment and walking around the city. i like to think they took her somewhere in europe to see the christmas markets and enjoy the snow and get the full idealized christmas experience, she’s from chicago and snow to her is probably an integral part of the season

they buy small little trinkets and sweets, nile just thinks andy is indulging her, i mean when is the last time andy celebrated any holiday so fully

quynh and nicky arrive with way too many decorations that it makes their apartment look even smaller but they don’t care

booker has made eggnog that’s just more booze at this point but no one cares, him and nicky have started a competition to see who can string lights up along the ceiling the fastest (nicky is winning because joe is sneakily undoing bookers)

quynh has the best time putting all kinds of random decorations on the tree, the general baubles but also she got one for everyone. booker gets a little flask ornament, and somehow she managed to find sword ornaments for joe and nicky and an axe for andy, though it doesn’t look the same, and she gets one for nile of deep dish pizza and the sears tower

nile and andy finally come back and nile is in complete shock, standing in the doorway staring at what might be the most insane collection of decorations she’s ever seen. there’s a snowman, the grinch (andy’s favorite holiday movie), so many stars and mini christmas trees, lights are strung up all around the ceiling and the tree is massive, covered in a random assortment of decorations and with quynh’s eye it looks like a winter wonderland

and then she spots the ornaments for her and then she starts crying and everyone moves in for a hug - she still has family to celebrate with they tell her

and then there are presents to open

joe gives nicky a collection of poems and sketches, which booker helped him bind into a little book and nicky gets joe a wonderful and carefully crafted tea blend reminiscent of an old favorite of his he hasn’t had in a 100 years and then brings out the sweaters which joe has a good laugh over before making andy take a picture of them

nicky made sure to get the rest of them sweaters too - him and joes are stupid puns like “oh snap” with a broken gingerbread or “feline festive” with a cat, booker’s has a dog, andy’s has something obscene written on it, quynh’s is patterned while nile gets one that says “i sleigh all day” after he learned what slay meant

nicky gives booker the ugliest fake money you’ve ever seen, a child could’ve done better and nicky tells him that’s his winnings from the last bet - he drew a poor imitation of himself on the bills (booker absolutely loves it)

quynh gets andy a new necklace to layer with the other, a small bow and arrow pendant hanging from it while andy gets her a locket so she can keep a photo of them inside

quynh gets roller skates from booker and she’s so excited she puts them on immediately and nearly wipes out had andy not caught her, but she’s still smiling and absolutely giddy

booker gives andy an old bottle of whiskey he found in another safehouse, they’ve both already drunk two bottles of vodka and he’s put three bottles of bourbon in the eggnog already but that doesn’t stop them from immediately opening it

joe gives booker a jacket he stole from him and gets the most deadpanned look from him before booker pulls out joe’s gift and he did the same thing with some of joe’s art supplies

and then everyone turns to nile, andy’s got a gleam in her eyes as she hands over the long, delicately wrapped package and nile’s eyes widen as she peels the wrapping paper off

it’s her very own sword, andy got it made for her. it’s long and slimmer than something like nicky’s sword, and light enough she can use it one-handed if needed, it’s got her initials carved into the hilt and it fits comfortably at her side

the rest of the night is spent watching classic christmas films and more booze, games are brought out and they sing carols while tipsy, booker and nicky are once again competing and this time it’s to see who can fit the most candy canes in their mouth (no one wins this one when they both spit them out over everyone after laughing at each other), andy and quynh are dancing in the kitchen, joe and booker are enjoying the cookies and joe is taking pictures of everyone while watching nicky begin to give nile pointers about her sword

it’s their first christmas like this ever and i think they’d keep the traditions around for a while

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ifmywishescametrue · 3 years

Note

hnnng, could you please do either “you’re sick and you need to rest” or “you could’ve died” for stevetony? Worrying about an SO is a soft spot for me🥺

thank you for sending me this prompt! hope you like it :) (warning for mentions of torture, btw, but nothing graphic)

In that cave in Afghanistan, Tony keeps seeing flashes of things. Moments from life before all of this come to him in between the shocks of electricity when his head is forced underwater, while he’s sputtering and gasping for breath and can’t understand the words being screamed at him.

He sees Steve more than anything. Sees blue eyes and a bright smile and if he tries hard enough he can almost hear the laugh that comes with it. Sometimes it’s that first day again, with roaming hands and a rush to get off in the bathroom of some party he didn’t want to be at, followed by an easy grin and the promise to do that again sometime. He sees Steve on his couch surrounded by take out containers and the reassurance that absolutely none of it counted as a date. Morning pancakes that supposedly meant nothing, and Steve sneaking under the desk in his office. Pencil scratches on sketch pads that used to wake him up, cold feet pressed against his calves, his favorite muffins from that bakery downtown that used to just appear out of nowhere when he was having a bad day, and the way that Steve would never admit that it was him doing it.

It’s that last night he remembers the most. He can almost hear the words whispered in the dead of night and remembers the ones he held back, because Tony has never known how to be completely honest. He didn’t know how to say that this casual friends with benefits things was starting to feel less like friends and more like love, but when he lays down with his aching chest and bleeding fingers on the poor excuse for a cot at night, he wishes more than anything that he could have found the words before.

So he builds the suit and practices the right thing to say for when he makes it out. If he makes it out. If this ridiculous plan of his doesn’t result in him dying somewhere in the middle of the desert, just another body added to the pile of deaths he’s caused.

He almost doesn’t believe it when he lives. His knees hit the scorching sand, and Rhodey’s arms are right there, and still all he can think about is whether or not Steve mourned at all when they all thought he was dead.

In the plane, after the hospital at the army base and all the IV lines to fix the three months of dehydration and malnutrition, he works up the nerve to ask about it.

“Steve,” he starts, voice hoarse enough that he pauses to clear his throat, unwilling to sound so affected. “Is he - did he -” He stops, settling for asking, “Have you talked to him?”

Rhodey leans forward on his elbows, closing some of the distance that the aisle between them created. He pulls out his phone and taps for a moment before turning the screen to face Tony. Steve’s name is at the top, and Rhodey scrolls through the string of messages with enough speed that Tony can’t actually read any of them, but he gets the point anyway.

“This is just the last couple of weeks,” Rhodey says. “Never stopped asking for updates, especially when we found you. Called so much I told him I was going to put a virus on his phone to redirect him to random strangers if he kept it up. He didn’t listen.”

Tony swallows around the lump in his throat and looks away towards the window.

“We weren’t supposed to be anything,” Tony murmurs, watching the way the sky is fading from orange into blue, clouds obscuring the ocean below them. It’s still a few more hours until California, where he hopes that Steve is still waiting for him. “We said it was nothing.”

Rhodey hums, both noncommittal and suggestive at the same time, and Tony turns his head back to look at him. “What?”

Rhodey shrugs, “I didn’t say anything.”

“But you want to.”

“I don’t spill secrets that aren’t mine to tell.”

Tony’s brow furrows. “What does that even mean?”

“It means he’ll be there when we land, and if you try to pretend that it’s still nothing, I’m putting your ass back on the plane until you find your common sense somewhere.”

Tony bites his lip and shakes his head, staring down at his hands, “I wasn’t going to pretend. I just - I didn’t know if he cared anymore. It’s been a few months, and we weren’t… There was never a promise for commitment. He could’ve found somebody else. Anyone else.”

Rhodey gives him a look, that fondly exasperated one he does so well. “Nice to know you’re still a dumbass.”

It startles a laugh from and makes his abused lungs twinge, but it feels good to laugh again. “Takes more than a few months to knock the dumbass out of me.”

The topic falls away after that, because Tony can’t say what he feels, and Rhodey knows anyway. He switches the conversation over to the start of the baseball season that Tony missed, complaining about the Phillies like Tony’s heard every year since he was fifteen. It’s easy and passes the time until Tony ends up falling asleep for the rest of the flight.

His muscles are stiff and uncomfortable when he wakes with a start a couple of hours later, heart racing and on edge when he doesn’t immediately recognize his surroundings. Rhodey puts a hand on his knee, and Tony jumps initially before calming. It makes Rhodey’s eyes turn sad for a moment, then it’s hidden away again.

“Come on,” Rhodey says softly, gripping Tony by the elbow of his good arm to help him up. “We’re here.”

There’s still a slight limp in his step when he walks off the plane from bruises and scars that are still healing. He sees Pepper first, with her red hair shining in the sun, but his gaze gets stuck on the person next to her.

Steve straightens from where he’s leaning against the black car, and Tony wishes he was in better condition so he could run to him. It would have been romantic, he thinks, like something out of one of those movies he’d never even seen before Steve came into his life. There would have been some grand, sweep-him-off-his-feet moment with declarations and pretty words and violins coming from somewhere.

Instead Steve meets him halfway, with a quivering chin like he might start to cry. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is too long, and his five o’clock shadow is almost an actual beard now.

He’s the best thing Tony’s ever seen.

“Hey,” Tony says, because he can’t remember a single one of those things he planned before.

Steve smiles, and it’s only a little shaky, “Hey yourself.”

Rhodey and Pepper disappear with the shutting of the car door, leaving the two of them standing there in the middle of the empty runway. Steve takes the first step, but Tony takes the second, and then Steve’s chest is beneath his cheek, and his arms are around his shoulders.

Tony holds on to him like a lifeline, fingers clutched in his t-shirt, and he can feel the warmth of him seeping into his skin. Steve’s hands are all over, as if checking to make sure he’s all actually there and in one piece.

Steve steps back a little, a small frown on his face. He reaches his hand up to Tony’s chest, and Tony tenses at the first light press against the reactor case.

“What…” Steve trails off, eyes flickering between Tony’s chest and his face, and Tony undoes two of the buttons on his shirt to show him.

The scars around it are marred and red, with raised edges that serve to make it look even worse than it is. Steve makes a sound like a choked back sob, and Tony grabs his wrist to put his hand on the reactor. It’s a little terrifying to let him touch it, but if there’s anyone he knows would never hurt him, it’s Steve.

“It’s okay,” Tony murmurs. “It keeps me alive.”

“You could’ve died,” Steve whispers, fingers spreading out over the light of the reactor. “I thought you - I didn’t want to think it, but it was hard not to. Rhodey kept saying that you wouldn’t let yourself go out like that. You’d be all or nothing, and it wasn’t big enough. And Pepper, well, she basically said exactly what did happen. That you’d find a way out. I tried to believe it, too, but I just kept thinking that you could be gone, and we’d never - I’d never get the chance to make this real.”

Tony looks up at him, breath catching in his throat. “I thought about you every day, you know. I almost told you how I felt about you on that last night. Came so close to saying it, but I just -”

“I know,” Steve says, and with his other hand he cups Tony’s cheek. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

“Yeah?”

Steve nods, leaning in closer, and his lips brush against Tony’s when he says, “Yeah, sweetheart, I know.”

#stevetony #prompts #i literally love you for sending me this #asks #my writing #my fic #stony #superhusbands

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writings-of-a-daphodil · 4 years

Text

A Gift

Luke x ghost!reader

Summary: It's your birthday and you wish you could spend it with your family. Luke and the band try to cheer you up (super fluffy).

Requested?: Nope

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

A/n: This kinda came out of nowhere and once I had the idea I got carried away. I hope y'all like it!!

For you birthdays were a big thing when you were alive. You and your family would always go on a camping trip and have the time of your lives together. It wasn’t just limited to your family either, it was open to your friends too. It was your favorite tradition.

When you had met Luke, you had been looking forward to inviting him and the band, but then the fateful night at the Orpheum had happened. You and the rest of the band had died that night, now it was twenty-twenty and you were ghosts.

It had been great meeting Julie and forming a band with her, but as your birthday rolled around you were feeling immensely sad. Like Luke you had visited their family and you had seen them preparing to go on the camping trip in your honor. While it made you happy to see them keeping up the tradition, it also felt like a stab to the heart that you couldn’t be there with them.

In the days leading up to your birthday you had grown quiet and more reserved, struggling to find the energy to be happy. You couldn’t visit your family anymore, it just made you cry, but knowing that they were camping and you couldn’t be there also made you cry. It was a lose-lose.

So you had spent most of your time at the beach, watching the ocean and letting it calm you. There was something so relaxing about the way the waves moved and the push and pull of the tide. It was also nice to have privacy, just the crashing waves to keep you company.

It was inevitable that the band would notice your mood and absence of course, and notice they did.

You were at the beach, watching the ocean like normal. It was admittedly a beautiful day for your birthday. The sun was just breaking through the marine layer, creating bright orange patterns on the clouds.

Luke poofed in beside you, startling you out of your sad thoughts. The two of you had been dating since you got the band together and he was always there to comfort you.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around you. You sniffed in return.

“You didn’t think I would forget what today is, did you?” He asked, giving a small smile.

“No,” you answered, smiling a little bit.

“Good,” he stood up in front of you and grabbed your hands. “You are amazing and you are so great and understanding when it comes to me missing my parents, now it’s my turn to help you with your grief.”

You didn’t have time to respond before you felt the cold sand disappear from beneath you. The world shifted to new surroundings, ones that you definitely did not recognize.

“Luke?” You asked, letting go of his hand. You weren’t exactly in the mood for any surprises at the moment.

Luke moved back to standing in front of you. “Trust me on this, okay?”

He took your hand again and led you down a path. You looked around, trying to find anything that would clue you into where you were.

You slowly began to recognize your surroundings and you stopped walking. “What’s wrong?” Luke asked, stopping with you once he realized you weren’t moving.

“Luke, I-I’ve already visited, seeing them just makes me even sadder.”

“That isn’t why we’re here, Y/n/n. I’ve got a completely unrelated surprise for you.”

You hesitantly began to walk and Luke gave you an encouraging smile. “You are going to have a great day today. I promise.”

You gave him a weak and slightly nervous smile as you followed him. You walked over a hill and what you saw made you smile for real.

Julie and her family were setting up a campsite while the rest of the band and Flynn helped. After the whole Caleb fiasco Julie had let her family in on the ghostly little secret.

“Happy Birthday!” Luke exclaimed, gesturing excitedly at everyone.

“Happy Birthday, Y/n!” Everyone called, though Flynn, Carlos, Victoria, and Ray were a little late since they didn’t see your arrival.

You smiled at your found family. “Guys, this is so sweet.”

“Oh, this isn’t everything,” Reggie said excitedly. “Wait till you see what else we have planned.”

For the first time in a while, you forgot your grief and excitement replaced it. “I can’t wait.”

~~~~

After a few incredibly fun activities, you made it back to your campsite. The sun was still up and you had a while before everyone would eat dinner.

Still hyped up you had a lot of energy and you didn’t know if you could just sit around and chat or play cards. Thankfully Carlos suggested a game of Ultimate frisbee and once the words were out of his mouth, Reggie was chanting it to. You were definitely up for a game and from there, teams were formed.

It was you, Julie, and Alex versus Luke, Reggie, Flynn, and Carlos. You may or may not have specifically engineered it to have Alex on your team, him being the tallest gave an advantage.

You took on Luke. He smirked at you as Alex threw the frisbee to Julie and Flynn intercepted. You rolled your eyes and saw Flynn get ready to throw the frisbee at Carlos. Julie was trying to guard her and Alex was on Reggie, so in a split second you ran over to Carlos. You knew you were faster than Luke so you’d be able to get to Carlos and catch the frisbee first and fortunately you were right.

You intercepted and Luke tried to guard you, giving you a pouty face when Alex caught your throw. You smirked at him, running past Alex to the area near your goal. You had barely stopped running when Alex tossed the frisbee back to you. Luke was almost to you and Julie was open. You threw it to her and smiled as she caught it, scoring a point.

“We’ll get it next time,” Luke called running off towards his team's end of the field.

“Sure!” You called back, a bright smile on your face. However, Luke was right, his team scored the next two times and your team scored the last time before dinner, leaving you at a tie.

You all made your way back to the campsite and you ghosts sat down while the ‘lifers’ got their food.

“It was interesting seeing the frisbee get caught in midair.” Ray chuckled as he took his seat, almost sitting in Reggie before Julie warned him.

“Yes, I’m glad you were having fun,” Victoria said, patting Julie. You smiled at the gesture, trying not to feel sad about your own aunts.

Dinner was full of fun chatting and Julie translating for you and the guys. After dinner the guys got their instruments out and began to sing ‘happy birthday’ to you. You sang along so everyone could see you and it turned into an impromptu concert.

As the sun disappeared and the stars came out, you and your found family sang, enjoying the moment. You would definitely treasure these memories for years to come.

After you finished singing Luke came over to you. “Just close your eyes for a second,” he said, grinning at you like an excited puppy. You did what he asked, though rather reluctantly.

“Guys, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“We wanted to,” Alex said.

You heard a lot of shuffling right in front of you and eventually Luke spoke. “Okay, open your eyes.”

In front of you was a small pile of gifts. “Guys-“

Luke cut you off before you could protest any further, “Stop, you deserve all of this and more. And don’t say you feel bad for not doing more for our birthdays, I know how long it takes you to knit those scarves.”

“Fine,” you smiled. “Which one first?”

“Ooo! Open mine!” Reggie begged, pointing at a cleanly wrapped box.” You unwrapped it, careful to make sure none of the trash went anywhere, and gasped at what you were holding. It was an incredibly detailed and beautiful sketch of a horse.

“Reggie, did you draw this?”

He nodded. “And it’s got the first country song we wrote together on it.”

You beamed at him. “We’ll get that country album some day,” you vowed, gently nudging Luke when he rolled his eyes.

“Mine next,” Alex requested, pointing to an even more elaborately wrapped box. You opened it to see Alex had decorated your old guitar strap, painting it with your favorite colors. You had been meaning to do that since you got it and you were grateful he had taken the initiative.

“I love it.”

“Good, I’m not that artistic so I didn’t know what to get you and then I remembered that you had been meaning to decorate your guitar strap since you got it, so I did it,” Alex rambled.

You laughed. “How very thoughtful of you.”

You turned your attention back to the rest of the stack, but Luke was already ready. “Here’s mine.”

“You took the small package from him and opened it. Inside was a little box and in that there was a necklace. The pendant was an old guitar pick branded with the sunset curve logo and with it was a little card in Luke’s messy handwriting: A memento of the band we started all those years ago.

“I think I’m gonna cry.” You put your hand to your mouth and Luke took the necklace from the box, putting it on you.

“I love you so much,” Luke whispered to you.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, kissing his cheek.

After admiring the necklace for a little while longer, you went to open the rest of the pile. Julie got you a gift card so you could shop together(you still only had your clothes from the nineties). Ray gave you a framed photograph of you guys at the garage party singing Edge of Great and Carlos got you a ball of yarn. Even Victoria even got you a little candle that you absolutely adored and Flynn got you a bracelet that matched one that she and Julie were wearing.

“Guys, these are all so great, I can’t thank you enough! You better bet I’ll be stepping it up for your guys’ birthdays.”

“Looking forward to it,” Carlos said, after Julie repeated what you said. He turned to his left and smiled at you and you laughed, you were sitting more to his right.

“Tell him that I can’t wait,” you requested and Julie obliged.

While she did that you got up and hugged everyone you could. “Guys, this could not have been a better day.”

“It’s not over yet. We have one last gift for you!” Reggie said excitedly and you smiled brightly, tears of joy forming in your eyes.

“You guys didn’t have to,” you protested, blushing at the kindness they had been showing you. “You’ve already done so much for me.”

“Yes we did.” Julie sat down next to you and Luke sat on the other side, with an arm around you while Reggie and Alex leaned in behind you. You tilted your head as Julie turned on her phone and went to her camera roll.

You were about to ask what was going on when she played a video. Julie and the guys appeared on screen and you saw that they were standing outside the garage.

“Happy Birthday, Y/n!” They all yelled and you smiled, expecting them to do a little birthday recording of a song for you, but instead of getting their instruments Luke spoke.

“We noticed how sad you were about your parents and we had this idea...” with that the screen shifted.

You were only more confused when you recognized the inside of your parents house. It was easy to tell that the camera was filming from just inside your old kitchen. You watched curiously as Julie and your parents stepped into the frame.

“If you could say one thing to her, what would you say?” Julie asked and you realized she was talking about you.

Your mom sniffed, tears in her eyes. “I’d let her know how much I love her and how proud we are of her. I just wish we could tell her that. She was so talented, I just wish she could have lived her dream.”

Tears welled in your eyes at what your mom said, but they started falling when your dad spoke. “I’d wish her a happy birthday and tell her that I wish she could come camping with us. We kept up our tradition and I just wish she could know how much she meant-means to us. We missed out on so much with her and though we can’t get it back I hope she knows that we love her with all of our hearts.”

The video faded into a slideshow of some pictures of you, and in the background Now or Never was playing.

A good majority of the old pictures were taken during your camping trips and it was interesting to see how you had grown. When you were twelve, guitars began to appear in the pictures and there were quite a few ones of you playing around a campfire. Everyone was laughing in those, and it made you smile to remember when they were taken.

After the pictures of your family, they faded to pictures of you with the guys. There was even one of your first gig, you recalled that your mom had taken it. Your parents had been so excited for you. You had always felt so lucky to have such supportive parents.

From there, there were the newest pictures, ones of you with Julie and even some from your current camping trip that she must have added at the last minute.

After the last picture faded away you immediately grabbed all of your friends into a group hug. You couldn’t believe they had done this for you. You felt so unbelievably honored and touched.

You sniffed. “Guys, how did you do this?”

“Well, Alex, Reggie, and I got most of the pictures, we used some cameras to sneak them,” Luke explained.

“Yeah, it was not easy. I can’t count the number of times your parents almost saw the floating cameras,” Reggie said and you laughed.

You turned to Julie. “It means the world to me that you got my parents to say that. How?”

“I told them that I was trying to get to know the old band that had once practiced in my garage and from there they told me everything.” You hugged the girl tightly.

“I can’t begin to explain how much this means to me.” You opened your mouth to explain more, but nothing came out. “Just...this is...wow, guys. I-I just, thank you? I don’t know, thank you doesn’t sound like enough.”

“You don’t have to explain, Y/n, we’re just glad you liked it,” Alex said.

“After this, I’m gonna make sure you guys have great birthdays too.” Some more tears fell. “I just, wow.”

“So you liked it?” Luke asked and you beamed at him.

“I loved it.”

****

Tada, I hope y'all enjoyed this! Once I started writing it bloomed into this and I'm happy with what it came out to be. It's also been a while since I played frisbee, so sorry if the rules are wrong. Anyways, I loved writing this and I hope y'all have a fantastically safe and wonderful day/night!

Also if you want me to do more gender neutral fics just let me know, I only do she/her because that's what I’m most comfortable with, but please let me know if you want they/them on more stuff. I want to make this blog inclusive.

P.S. I am open to requests, but I won't get to them until after Halloween :) Please check my blog for the pinned post before requesting.

P.P.S. if you want to be on my taglist for all things Julie and the Phantoms, feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

#Julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms imagine #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms Luke #julie and the phantoms luke imagine #jatp x reader #jatp luke #jatp imagine #jatp luke imagine #jatp luke x reader #luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #jatp one shot #a gift #luke one shot #one shot

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chronicbatfictioner · 3 years

Text

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 20

The dinner was just as Jason expected, bland, dull, a lot of formalities in which Bane was visibly struggling with and did not even bother to pretend to know the difference between steak or salad forks. Jason, Dick, and Tim managed to keep the conversation alive and light, somehow without offending the formality of the dinner. Good thing, Jason thought, that The League had taught him of formal dinner etiquette and whatnot, otherwise he would have been slurping the baiwang with the soup spoon instead of the Chinese soup spoon provided by Alfred - like Bane.

Dick, for all of his lack of etiquette education, won in the manners division - regardless of the fact that Tim was helping him by pointing out which cutlery should be used for what. At the very least, he was not beneath asking what he wasn't sure of.

The day after was a little duller. Alfred merely informed them that the police were there along with the District Attorney, Harvey Dent, to arrest Bane on several counts of murder. Bane was arrested nearly without a fight - he had been purged of his venom strength and knew that he had no chance against some of the cops who were ready to taser him.

Jason was... frankly, a little disappointed.

"Would've been nice if there was a brawl or something," Dick voiced Jason's thought out loud just as he walked outside.

"Oh, goodness, I'm just glad this is over," Bruce commented, glaring apprehensively at Dick's back as the latter walked away with Damian. There was a good long silence before he added, "I presume now that Bane is out of this house, Damian will no longer need you two? I mean, he has me now - and his grandparents." he pointed out.

"I have vowed to guard Damian until he is an adult," Jason replied simply. Ignoring Bruce's sudden change of expression. "it is my order."

"Well, Talia... no offense. But Talia won't-- is no longer around to hold you accountable." Bruce argued.

"No, she's not. But Damian is." Jason looked at the child, sitting under one of the Manor's massive trees with a thick sketchbook before him. Dick, Jason knew, was on the tree. Even with Bane arrested, Oracle had warned that as long as he's not fully incarcerated in a maximum-security facility, he could still either get out and hurt the Waynes - including Damian. Therefore Jason asked Dick to remain with them for a little while longer. Thankfully, Dick didn't mind.

"He's a child. Children adapt well with changes of environments," Bruce said. "and if you're afraid that Bane would come back, I can hire some bodyguards for him."

Jason managed to hold back his smirk. People always thought that he was there to protect Damian; not realizing that he was protecting others from Damian's temper. Instead, he smarted, "like you protected your parents by sending them overseas."

"Oh, now, that's not fair." Bruce protested. "It was... we all thought that... at least mother and I..." he didn't finish his sentence as he exhaled exasperatedly. "His DNA check is back," he continued after a few moments of silence.

"Obviously, he hasn't a drop of Wayne blood in him," Jason suggested, a little dryly. "Something anyone with knowledge of the molecular structure of DNA would have known right away. You accepted Damian right away because you saw he has your mother's ears, in spite of his green eyes. Yet you doubted your father's denial in spite of the fact that there is nothing on Bane that resembled any of you - including about all of the portraits of your ancestors.

"And then there's something else I realized. Bane came with nothing; whereas Damian came with the Al Ghul wealth. You were more accepting because Damian would not equal splitting the Wayne wealth..."

"That is not true!" Bruce growled. "I would not have turned Damian away even if he was not Talia's child. He is my child, and I know that he is!"

"Then we're back to my initial point: You were unable to defend your parents because you did not have 100% faith in their virtues. The Al Ghuls are known leaders of the League of Assassins, to which the leadership shall now be Damian's. What will be your argument, when he decides to take over the League fully? 'Oh, I can't be associated with criminals, even if said crimes were just allegation and not a video recording of someone snapping off another person's neck'?" Jason sneered. "Now, Mister Wayne. I also would like to remind you, that I have Damian's legal custody. If you insist I should leave, I shall bring him along."

"You can't do that," Bruce scowled. "He's my biological child..."

"You have studied your country's laws, Mister Wayne. But you forgot the one crucial thing: Damian is not your country's boy by any means other than your claim." Jason mentally realized that he has placed one of his ace cards onto the table. But he honestly prefers this kind of conversation not to be had when Damian is present. And from the looks of it, he has packed his sketching materials and was making his way back indoors. "Do not try to deny Damian's access to me, or the League, Mr Wayne. He is not yours to manipulate," he added softly while Damian was still out of range.

"Hey guys, Damian and I are hungry," Dick announced as they went past the door. "Think Alfred would let us have cookies?"

"He's the one who is hungry, Todd," Damian told Jason. "I shall wait until tea time for the cookies. It is only a mere hour away."

"Why don't you scrub up a little? Tea should be ready by the time you're done." Bruce suggested.

Damian's scowl could have killed a cobra. "While I am planning on refreshing myself, father, it would be kind of you to cease directing me as if I am an imbecile," he stated, and for the second time in less than 10 minutes, Jason bit the inside of his cheek to stop a snicker.

Bruce, however, was not amused at Damian. "Well! That is not what a child should say to his father!" he admonished.

"Todd," Damian glared at Jason. "Did you not inform Mr Wayne here that I merely referred to him as 'father' due to common societal practices?" he asked with air quotes around the word 'father'.

"I have informed him that, Damian," Jason assured him.

"Do remind him on a daily basis that I am not obliged to remain here beyond what is demanded by his country's societal norms." Damian continued.

"I shall, Damian," Jason replied.

"Very well, I shall be in my quarters until tea time. You might consider feeding Grayson here, Todd," Damian said dismissively.

"I actually have some matters to discuss with you, Damian, if you don't mind. I think Grayson can fend for himself just fine," Jason told him.

"I don't mind. Let us, then." Damian said, leading the way back to his room.

Jason nodded politely to Bruce and motioned Dick to join him. "Mr Wayne, Grayson."

As they left Bruce, still standing in confusion - probably - Dick remarked, "ouch," softly.

"Go on and get your own cookies, Grayson," Jason remarked.

"I need to discuss something with you, too. You two, actually, somewhere safe." Dick said. Both Jason and Damian paused their steps. "Yeah, and we might need to call upon a certain bird for backup," Dick added, almost nonchalantly. It was not until then that Jason noticed the tenseness on his shoulders. He remembered that Dick, too, was trained to keep an eye out for danger.

"You go on ahead with Damian, I'll ask Alfred if he may have tea in his quarters." Jason decided. Damian nodded, realizing the urgency in Dick's posture, and stepped a little closer to Dick as Jason turned the other way.

Whatever it is Dick has to say, Jason could be certain now that besides himself, Dick would protect Damian fiercely. And/or protect other, possibly innocent people, from Damian's tempers.

He was just wondering why did it seem that Bruce Wayne was so intent on removing him.

And why Dr and Mrs Wayne would suddenly take a trip to Europe right after they were proverbially and literally freed from Bane.

Alfred, as usual, was in the kitchen preparing for tea time. In spite of being Americans, the Waynes seemed to like the habit of afternoon tea time.

Jason told Alfred of Damian's request, and Alfred nodded slowly. "Is Master Bruce still in the sun-room, then?" he asked.

"Last time I saw him, yeah."

"Ah, then... young Jason, may an old man request something from you and your vast knowledge of herbs?" Alfred's face was as impassive as ever when he said that, just a shade before he returned to his task of preparing some small sandwiches. But Jason was a little confused. Why would Alfred ask him for herbs? As far as Jason could tell, he was as healthy as... well, someone Jason's age, which has got to be at least a third of Alfred's; half at most. Jason didn't think that Alfred was any older than mid- to late-40s.

"Sure, how can I help?" he answered, anyway.

"Oh, I was wondering if there is any method you may suggest to... how do I put it... Chafe off surgical remains within oneself? I have had work done for my nose, you see, on a whim as a young lad; and I do not believe it looks becoming on me as I age. I feel as if it makes me look like another person is inhabiting my body, as Master Bruce was wont to say."

Jason blinked, and partially wished Dick was there to confirm his thoughts. In spite of being the exact same height as Jason, Alfred was bowing his head a little as he spoke; and Jason knew that there was a surveillance camera that would be able to record their conversation in the kitchen. His shoulders were tenser than the task of cutting bread would have required.

"Well, wow... okay. I'll need to actually search my books. You know some of the ladies back then would apply something to their skin for scars or bruises. But I'm not sure if it'll work on surgical stuff. I'll let you know?" Jason replied carefully.

"Thank you, Jason, for considering. While it shames me for being vain, it is... rather crucial." Alfred smiled at him.

"No problem, Alf," Jason patted him on the shoulder and made his way back to Damian's room - where each and every surveillance device has been disabled and/or misdirected by the combination of Tim, Barbara, and Damian's own skills.

Once Jason walked in and closed the doors of Damian's room behind him, he was greeted by both Damian and Dick's voices.

"That man is not my father, Todd! I believe my grandparents may still be in danger!" Damian exclaimed as Dick stormed over and announced 'There was an increase of drone activities outside, that's why I brought Damian in!' - followed by Damian and Dick glaring at each other, and Damian said, "Todd, we might need to acquire some new exit strategy!" at the same time as Dick saying, 'I've sent a text to Tim, but he hasn't answered. I've texted Babs, though!'

Jason cringed at them. "Whoa! Hold up! If this is how you two kids report, nobody would need surveillance equipment to hear you from Gotham Harbor!" he snarled. The two promptly stopped and glared at each other again, as if they both were hoping to have Superman's laser vision or something. "Okay, I've heard you both, and I'm upping the ante. Alfred just asked me practically for a method to dissolve foreign objects inside someone's body and allude that someone in the house is not who they seemed. And said someone might be Bruce."

Damian threw his fist to the air, stating, "I knew it!"

Dick's eyes were wide as saucers. "Okay... I would... I've wanted to say the same thing since we got in. But I was kinda scared I might be wrong. What makes you sure?"

"Alfred referred to Bruce in the past tense when talking to me," Jason said. "You? --wait, no, Damian first."

"He looked and behaved differently than the videos mother had shown me," Damian replied.

"I second Damian on this. Well, dude... we need to communicate better, don't we?" Dick said, telling the last bit toward Damian. "I've only met him once, way back when-- when my parents were... you know. But like I've told you, I remember everything from that day as if it has just happened. I remember Bruce Wayne was there with a blonde girl wearing chinchilla fur, a 50s hairdo, and an actual pearl pin. But when my parents... right after, I saw him directing traffic of people out of the tent calmly. His presence then was literally calming, like, everyone was looking at him for direction. This Bruce... generally, looked too nervous on everything; if that makes sense."

Jason thought a moment. Dick was really good at reading people's body language - even the most stoic Alfred. Before Bane was removed, Dick's assessment of Alfred was that he was uncomfortable with Bane, yet very welcoming of Damian. Thus his immediate trust in Alfred. However, since Bane was arrested and proven to not have been a Wayne; Jason hasn't got the chance to ask Dick to re-assess Alfred.

"Okay, I'll retrieve the video footage of your dad from 10 years ago from the League's servers. We'll cross-check. We'll tell the Birds once we're sure, yeah?" Jason suggested.

"Agreed," Damian nodded slowly.

"I'll have Tim keeping an eye on the Doc and Missus while we're at it, though. I mean, you know, precautions and all." Dick suggested.

"Okay, call Tim. If he doesn't answer, call Babs or his mom. I'd like this whole thing settled quickly before Bruce can do anything to harm Damian." Jason huffed a breath slowly, wondering what the hell is it with the Waynes that seemed to run on endless conspiracy theories, anyway.

#Batless!AU #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #Bruce Wayne #Damian Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #JayTim #Red Ghost!jason #Talon!Dick

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elriell · 3 years

Text

Thank you very much! I find it hard to cut them back and be less detailed to be honest. So let’s dive in to it, two quick points before we start;

There will be no hate here as every ship is valid, I simply going to explain why I believe Elriel is more likely to happen than Elucien. (IMO)

Secondly, if there’s one thing for certain with SJM it is that nothing is certain with her.

Of course like any reader I am nervous for what might happen but looking at it textually speaking I do not think we have much to worry about... Not to mention that if we look at SJM past behaviour we can extrapolate several things.

When Sarah falls in love with a character she is very willing to shift all plans to accommodate them, we have a good example of this with Rowan, once she began writing him she fell in love with him and Chaol was quickly pushed aside. I am sure she has done plenty of interviews saying as much from memory.

SJM Live

- Azriel has a lot of shit going on that we’re going to be able to see in this book.

- Azriel’s song is Mr. Brightside for the vibes. Not necessarily the lyrics. SJM is kinda obsessed with him and telling his story in the future.

- We’re getting to see more of Azriel’s cheeky humor in this one.

- SJM can’t wait to see theories after everyone reads Azriel’s pov. There’s a lot of crumbs that have been scattered around for his journey. [ref]

It is safe to say that in her own words Sarah is obsessed with Azriel, which gives us a good idea about who she wants to write about next. This is the same vibe we got off her when she was introducing Rowan to the TOG universe and I think it is a pretty easy assumption to believe the next book is Elain’s too.

Not to mention SJM is not afraid to shake it up and swap out the LI you think it will be, Chaol/Rowan & Tamlin/Rhysand. It is not far fetched to think she would do the same with Elain and Lucien. Not to mention the idea of such a repetitive story ARC like Mates (after Feysand and Nessian) could easily be avoided by doing something like a rejected-bond or second bond.

I really could not tell you what I think Azriel’s ARC/what he is dealing with is because we have so little information on him all I know is I cannot wait to read it all. He is easily one of my favourite characters, he is so mysterious to us.

I think Elain’s ARC is going to be all about choice. And we know from SJM that you can have more than one mate.

Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”“You belong to him.”“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

“to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

As far as I am concerned if you look at all SJM couples from all her books there is always that initial Spark™ and I think that impartially if you look at Elain and Lucien they have not had it at all (bar maybe the moment he scents the bond), Elain is completely disinterested in him. In the bond as a whole.

“if it wasn’t for Vassa.” A twitch of the lips, a spark in that russet eye. “She’s doing well enough. Savoring every second of her temporary freedom.”

Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald.

See? SPARK, literally and figuratively.

You could even argue that she was you know, really struggling at the time the bond snapped in to place so it wasn’t the time for them but then we are given Azriel as a mirror to the situation and we see despite her troubles she is capable of interacting with someone without disinterest. Can and has been attracted too, can smile and laugh with someone despite being upset over Graysen.

Examples;

“You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face.”

“Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm.

“And do what?” “Spend time with her.” “I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.” His jaw worked as he studied the fire.”

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.

“You as well.” A sidelong glance toward Elain, swift and fleeting. “Both of you.” Elain said nothing, but at least she bowed her head in thanks.”

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea, but I sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before Rhys and I slipped upstairs.

“There were only a few presents left—Lucien’s. [...] I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“He cares for you.” “He doesn’t know me.”

“You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.” Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.”

“You are his mate. Do you even know what that means?” “It means nothing,” Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”“You belong to him.”“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

Again like I said, textually when we look at it all together Sarah is not exactly planting the seeds for them at all, now of course there is still time for that to change, and of course we only have a limited perspective but as a reader it doesn’t come across positively. Even if you consider Nessian who have been against each other from the start have had the seeds planted, even as they argued they had tension and emotion.

Sarah has given Elucien so little of anything positive or negative comparitively, it is like the are barely registered.

Not to mention she puts across Azriel as a candidate time and time again, and as a writer you would not do that for nothing.

“She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.” “So is Azriel.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” “I’d keep that question from Lucien.” “I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?”

“What if”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

SJM is sowing doubt at every turn. Then to top it off we are introduced to Vassa through Lucien, and now we finally see him have a spark, blush, and speak of her with almost worship as Feyre points out.

“I …” Lucien fumbled for the words. Not out of some lie or excuse, I realized a moment later. Realized when he said, “I’ve been at the Spring Court every now and then. But if I’m not here in Velaris, I’ve mostly been staying with Jurian. And Vassa.”

“Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.” “You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.”

Now, I can understand the belief that Elucien could be endgame but you simply cannot deny that before that Elriel & LucienxVassa is going to have to be explored to a degree.

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …”Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

We also see both couples paralleled. I mean in all honesty I could go on and on and on, there is so many qoutes that I could add but this will just get longer and longer. I am going to link my full Elriel Analysis, and some other stuff about them and rejecting the bond below.

As for our fox boy Lucien!

I really like him, and I do feel like he has a very interesting journey ahead, between his true paternity, Vassa and the mating bond he has a lot coming up for him. I am excited to see where the band of exhiles might take us, despite Feyre’s mockery I am excited that after so long of not belonging anywhere he may have found people to call his own.

Look if Elucien happens after a genuine build up, I will be happy to read their journey, of course I will be very disappointed for Elriel because I truly believe they are the best fit but I am not against Elucien if anything I think Sarah is, more than anyone else.

Like I said I could go on for years, and honestly in 9 days hopefully we have a better idea of the future to base our opinions on.

I am tagging this Anti-Elucien, not that I feel it is but I don’t want Elucien shippers to have to see it, so if they blacklist the tag the can avoid the negativity ❤︎

[Elriel Meta] [Elriel Kindred Spirits] [Elriel Choice 1 & 2] [Garden] [Thoughts]

#elriel #acofs #acotar #elain archeron #azriel #elriel discussion #anti elucien #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #meta #elriel meta #anti-elucien

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cassiabaggins · 3 years

Text

Wedding

A/N: Part/day six! Thank you all so much for your support! Please leave a comment/reblog if you enjoy this!

Wordcount: 2k

First Next Masterlist

Tags: @anjhope1 @deathlikessodaandpizza @guardianofrivendell @myrin1234 @wettomatodude @lothloriien @annkdarar @artsywaterlily @hmmm-what-am-i-doing @drowingintheempty @estethell @claraofthepen @kilielweek

Warnings: mention of miscarriage

Summary: Kili and Tauriel are finally wed

Kili has been quiet all day. That's unusual. Tauriel carefully combs her fingers through his hair and rests her chin on his shoulder. He's staring into the fire.

"You seem distressed," she says gently.

He grunts wordlessly, so she gives him a kiss on the cheek and strokes his hair. "Kili. Talk to me. What ails you?"

Kili is quiet for a little bit longer, putting his hand over hers, before letting out a long sigh. “They want me to get married,” He says.

“Who is ‘they’?” She asks gently.

“The Council.”

“All of them?"

“No, not all of them, but those that do are quite loud.” He draws his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them. “They want me to produce an heir.”

“What about your brother? He’s already married!”

“They think his child won’t be ‘pure’ enough.” He puts quotations with his fingers around the word ‘pure’. “First they tried to get him to annul his marriage, then they tried to get him to take a mistress, but he’d rather die than disrespect his wife like that, so they gave up and focused on me.” He clenches his fist. “It makes me so angry! Arranged marriages go against everything I’ve ever been taught about how dwarrow love. All of this does! It goes against our nature!”

Tauriel moves so she’s no longer sitting behind him, but beside him, taking his hand.

“What do you mean by that, meleth nin?”

“I mean dwarrow don’t arrange marriages! We only love once, and only one person. Mahal, most of us don’t even experience sexual desires until we meet our One!”

“What if you don’t find the One? Or what if they don’t feel the same?”

“Then we don’t marry. We dedicate our lives to our crafts!”

“Is that what you would have done if I hadn’t come back?”

“Yes. Of course I would have.” He notices the sadness on her face and squeezes her hand. “Don’t look like that, amrâlimê, it’s not so bad. You don’t need love to be happy.”

She leans forward and kisses him. “There’s something awful romantic about that, loving only one person your entire life.”

“Aye, it is.” Kili frowns. “But now they want me to go against that and marry some lass from Rhun. She’s nice enough, I suppose, her name is Mhaite, but—”

“But you don’t love her.”

“But she’s not you.”

Tauriel smiles gently at him.

“I don’t want to marry anyone but you,” Kili says, flopping down into her lap. She strokes her hand through his hair.

“And I don’t want you to marry anybody but me.”

He sighs melancholically, taking her hand and kissing her wrist. She continues stroking his hair with her free hand when suddenly she is struck by an idea.

“What if we eloped?”

Kili sits right up and stares at her. “What?”

“What if,” she repeats, “we eloped. If we got married, they couldn’t make you marry her, right?”

“They could try to get me to divorce you.”

“But you can refuse them, correct?”

“Well, yes. They cannot force an annulment if both parties refuse. Especially if Fili doesn’t approve, since only a king or queen can annul marriages.”

"So your brother is behind us, who else?"

"I'm sure I could get Dwalin to represent you," Kili says, excitement leaking into his voice and gestures, "he likes you, though he won't admit it. Ori can draft up marriage documents, Dori can make us wedding clothes, and Bombur and Cassia can cook and—"

She stops him with a finger over his lips, laughing softly. "This is becoming less of a secret elopement and more of a wedding the longer you talk," she teases.

Kili shrugs and kisses her fingers. "I can't help that I want to get my friends involved."

"Too many people and the secret will leak," she cautions. "The Council will put a stop to it before it can even begin."

He sighs. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

In the end, they limit it to just Kili's family, Balin, and Dwalin. The sons of Fundin agree to represent Tauriel's family surprisingly easily, and Kili's mother and younger sister will represent him. Fili will officiate and his wife will be a witness. The wedding will take place in the council chamber of Erebor in two months time, long enough that the wedding beads can be made, but soon enough that the council members who are against the union do not have the time to put a stop to it.

King Fili is looking over a trade agreement in King Bard’s office, the end of his quill in his mouth and his face all scrunched up with concentration in a way that makes him look unnervingly like his younger brother. Tauriel sidles up to him and taps him on the shoulder. She really shouldn't be distracting him, but she needs his advice. Fili scratches out some letters and looks up at her, dipping his quill back in ink. "Hullo, Tauriel," he says with a smile. "What can I do for you?"

"I need help," she declares and the smile vanishes for a worried frown.

"Is something wrong?"

"Not in the way you think," she says. Fili gives her a baffled look and Tauriel twiddles her thumbs awkwardly. "Dwalin mentioned I was meant to make beads for when I marry Kili," she explains, "only… I've not the slightest idea how!"

"Is that all?" Fili asks with relief.

"...Yes."

The king slides the paper he's been looking at out of his way. "Well, you came to the right dwarf. Do you have a material you're planning on using?"

She shakes her head.

"Do you have a design?"

Another shake of the head. Fili sighs. "Oh dear."

"I don't even know where to begin! I've no idea how to craft jewelry!"

"Well, don't panic, there's no rule saying you have to make them. You just have to design them. It's common enough for a dwarf to commission a close friend to help create their wedding beads."

Tauriel lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh, good." Then she frowns. “Kili will be making mine, though, won’t he?”

“Aye, most likely. His craft is jeweling after all.”

“Then I want to make his,” She declares.

“It won’t be easy,” Fili cautions.

“I don’t care. I want to try.”

"If you do, then far be it from me to try and stop you. Now, let's talk about materials. The most common are stone or metal, but wood or some sort of gemstone isn't unheard of. Any of those catch your attention?"

Tauriel shakes her head. "I feel as if I need to hold the materials to see what I think."

Fili nods. "Next time I visit Dale, I'll bring you some examples."

She grins. "Oh, good! Oh, thank you!"

"Think nothing of it."

The next day, Fili arrives at her home as promised with the materials. He's brought some silver and gold and jewels, but what really catches Taurile’s eye is a beautiful piece of wood. She picks it up and turns it over in her hands. Fili sees her interest.

“That’s walnut wood,” he says.

“It’s lovely.”

“Is that what you want to use?”

Tauriel turns the wood over in her hands. “Yes.”

“Good choice.”

“Only…” she frowns. “I can see why a material like metal or stone would be used, that can last for centuries, but wood? How do you keep the beads from wearing out?”

“We have charms for that,” Fili says, “to make them last. Don’t worry about that.”

“Oh, good.”

He begins to tie his hair back, pulling out tools from his bag, along with a sketchbook. “All right, let’s get to work.” He flips through his sketchbook to a fresh page and picks up a charcoal stick to draw with. “Any design ideas?”

Tauriel frowns, tapping thoughtfully on the wood. “Well… no.”

“Well, what makes you think about him? When I was designing beads for my wife, I thought of all the things that made me think of her and used those for my design. So, what makes you think of Kili?”

Tauriel thinks. “Uh, stars, and the moon, and mountains, mostly.”

“That’s a good start!” Fili says, passing the sketchbook and drawing stick to Tauriel. “Just… start drawing.”

She frowns and takes them gingerly. “I’m not much of an artist.”

“We can clean up the sketch later, just put down some ideas,” he says reassuringly.

In the end, she decides on an image of the Mountain with the moon rising behind it and a star above the moon. It’s simple and pretty, and Fili gives his stamp of approval. Then, the carving lessons begin. Woodworking is not something Tauriel has ever done and it’s not Fili’s craft, but he's a patient teacher and she’s a quick learner. She doesn’t expect to become such close friends with her future brother in law, but she and Fili end up having much more in common than they initially think, including but not limited to their affections for knives and Kili.

It takes time, and lots of practice, but by the day of the wedding, the final beads are done. They’re wide and flat beads with the pattern she came up with carved on one side and their names on the other.

“Just promise me something?” Fili asks as he looks over the beads one final time.

“What is it?” She queries. He looks up at her.

“Please don’t leave him again. I don’t think he could bear it.”

Tauriel wants to tell him she hasn’t the slightest intention of doing that, that she came back for Kili and only for Kili, that not even wild horses could keep her away from him… but she doesn’t. “I won’t. I promise.”

There’s no fancy decorations or clothes for the wedding, no festive lights or stars or firemoons, just the dim torches illuminating the council chamber, and Kili’s smile illuminating her heart as they walk to stand together before Fili to be wed.

Tauriel takes Kili’s hand and he smiles up at her. “You look like a dream, amrâlimê,” he murmurs.

“A good dream?”

“Yes. A fantastic dream.” He turns her hand over and kisses the inside of her wrist. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Together, they turn towards Fili and the wedding begins.

Their vows are in Khuzdul, the traditional words, so no dwarf can say the wedding is invalid. The words are foreign on her tongue, but she knows them and their meaning even in her sleep.

Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, we are two bodies but one soul and my heart is tied to yours. I vow to walk with you and treasure you like the finest of jewels, through this life and the next.

With those words, they weave the braids and beads into each other’s hair, Tauriel bites her lip as she does so, worried her wooden beads look shabby and silly next to the fine diamond-flecked beads he’s made her. But then, he smiles up at her, and looks at the beads like they’re pure mithril, and she knows he thinks they’re beyond precious. Fili says a few more words in Khuzdul, declaring the marriage complete and valid and handing them each a quill to sign the marriage document. As soon as that is over, Kili swings Tauriel into his arms and kisses her like she's water in the desert and she kisses back just as passionately. She can hear the family, no, her family now, laughing around them. She cups his face in her hands and nuzzles her nose to his. “I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you, too,” he responds, wrapping his arms around her waist. “My wife.”

“My hus—"

Before she can fully respond, the door to the council chamber slams open. Lord Khar is standing in the doorway. "What is the meaning of this?!" He shouts, "why is that elf in the mountain?!"

"This," Fili says, picking up his quill and signing the marriage document, sealing the wedding as complete, "is a wedding."

"A wedding?! What?! Between who?!"

"Between my brother, Prince Kili, and Captain Tauriel of Dale, formerly of Mirkwood."

"No! Never! I will not accept it!"

"You don't have to accept it, you simply have to be quiet," Fili says. "I wear the crown, not you. And I have signed this document and officiated this marriage. It is done."

Khar looks positively apoplectic, his face turning an impressive shade of red. Kili squeezes Tauriel's hand reassuringly and looks up at her. She knows he won't let anything tear them apart, and she feels the same, responding to his look with a soft smile.

Lord Khar lets out a wordless, angry noise at the sight of their joined hands and storms toward them, arms outstretched as if he will try to force them apart with pure physical strength alone. Tauriel acts on instinct, swinging Kili behind her (as if a warrior prince of the Line of Durin would need protection) and halting Khar with a harsh blow to the shoulder. "Do not lay your hands on us," she spits.

The dwarf lord goes purple, holding his shoulder. "You cannot—"

"I suggest you listen to her, Khar," Kili says smugly, "my wife is rather deadly when she is angry." He says the words ‘my wife’ with utter relish, rubbing it in the older dwarf’s face, who snarls angrily and steps away from the two of them. "My Lord King," he turns to Fili, attempting a different tactic, "surely you cannot condone this! This elf has bewitched you, can you not see it?"

"I have bewitched no one!" Tauriel cries indignantly. "I'm no wizard, I wouldn't even know where to begin!"

Cassia, peeking around Fili, lets out a little titter of laughter. Kili laughs as well, but the dwarf is well warned away from him. He turns his blazing eyes on the Hobbit Queen. "Don't think you are any better, halfling! You who would put weak, sickly halfbreeds on the Throne of Erebor, if you could only manage to carry one long enough for it to live."

The uproar is instantaneous. Cassia makes a soft, pained little whimper, placing her hand over her abdomen, Dwalin reaches for a weapon, Balin exclaims condemningly, Dis and the princess cry out in indignation, Kili and Tauriel both step forward, either to protect their friend or hurt the dwarf lord, they don't know. They don't make it far enough to find out.

Fili punches Khar in the nose, knocking him to the ground. Khar howls with pain, holding his face.

"You've said enough," Fili spits, his eyes blazing with something feral and unhinged. It's an expression Tauriel has never seen on any face, especially not kind, gentle Fili. "Shut your mouth before I shut it permanently."

Cassia gently takes his arm and he takes a deep, steadying breath. “Khar, son of Zodar, as King of Erebor, I am relieving you of your position on the council of Erebor!"

"On what grounds?!"

"Disrespect of your queen, constant undermining of your king, and," Fili crouches down and reaches into the dwarf's pocket, pulling out a golden seal, "unlawful possession and use of the council seal."

“You cannot just---!”

“I can, actually.” Fili turns to Kili, "I believe you two have a wedding night to get to. I can handle this here."

“Are you sure?” Kili asks. His brother nods. “All right.” He takes Tauriel’s hand and draws her toward the door. “Yasith, let’s go.”

She looks down at him. “Will they be---”

“Fili can handle it.”

They leave the mountain together, returning to Dale, to Tauriel’s home on the outskirts of the city. No one stops them in Erebor at Kili’s command, and no one stops them in Dale at hers. “I have something to show you,” she says, shutting the door behind them. Kili takes her waist and draws her near him.

“Is it you?” he asks cheekily, standing up on his toes to kiss her. She kisses back, laughing a little.

“No,” she says, and then hums, “well, yes, but not yet, just… come with me.” She gives him one last kiss and draws away, taking his hand. He weaves his fingers through hers and lets her lead him through the house to the very top floor, and from there, up another flight of stairs and through a door into the open air.

“You lead me around all secretly to show me the roof?” Kili asks, “Amrâlimê, I’ve been here before.”

She laughs and pulls him forward. Set up in the center of the open space is a mattress and a huge pile of pillows and blankets, surrounded by many candles and lanterns (as yet unlit), a basket of food, and several bottles of wine. “It’s tradition for the marriage to be consummated under the stars,” she says softly, looking down at him. “We don’t have to, but---”

Kili swings her into his arms for a kiss. “This wedding has been all about my traditions,” he murmurs when they come up for air, “I would be honored to partake in some of yours.” And, hand in hand, he leads her toward the bed.

The next morning as Tauriel awakens to birdsong, wrapped in Kili’s arms beneath the open sky, she knows this is where she is supposed to be, and she will fight for it with everything she has.

#kiliel week #kiliel #kilielweek #kilielweek2021 #kiliel week 2021 #kili #tauriel #my writing #the hobbit #fanfic #the hobbit fanfic #fili #hobbit oc #cassia baggins #fili x oc #fili x cassia #kili x tauriel

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and-there-were-words · 3 years

Text

A Spider Life: Slow days (Chapter 05)

I first wanted to write something out of the Spider Queen’s POV, but struggled to keep it within the narrative I am going for at the moment. I will write something for her after what’s show-canon though. A slow one with some more HCs, but I hope you still enjoy this chapter!

Also “Ask questions” had been enabled, I did not notice they weren’t before /o/

---

Taking place some time before “Minor scale”.

After the last two, rather smooth successes of gathering the artifacts, things had turned… slow. With everyone doing their best to busy themselves, Syntax makes some (for him at least) interesting observations. (Wordcount: around 2150)

---

With the mirror in their possession, the little lady had grown silent while working on the furnace. Aside from that whisper business of course, that had been a constant the last few days. And while nobody wanted to admit it out loud, it put everyone on the edge. Even the Queen.

However, nothing would stop Syntax from working on his spiderbots, even trying to improve the additional arms on his back. Not the easiest thing to do when you don’t have eyes on the back of your head, but making sure they just won’t snap in the heat of a moment felt rather crucial. The additional weight to this upgrade wasn’t exactly a worry to him at all, in the end he wasn’t one of the brawler types.

Something in the air changed, making him halt for a second.

“Yes Huntsman, how can I help you?”, he spoke without needing to look up. The other spider made a frustrated noise at being detected, he had been just mere inches away to give the scientist a poke. With an annoyed huff he turned around to stomp back to Goliath. Syntax would be lying to say if the other's frustration didn't plug on a string of satisfaction. This sort of interactions had been going on for a while now.

Leaning back, just to give his spine a proper stretch, the scientist couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud of himself. Just the progress he had made the last few days was satisfying, and not only the ones on his machines – but himself too. Huntsman had taken a sadistic joy in startling him whenever he could, and he was infuriatingly good at it. Though, Syntax started to pick up on the faint noises the hunter made when stepping on stone, the shuffling of clothes. Eventually he could catch him prior to a scare.

Which only goaded Huntsman to try even harder, becoming more and more silent and careful in his steps. Syntax had taken recordings to measure the changes of skill level (and for his own sanity) – by now, the hunting spider was so silent that even his gadgets could barely pick up the sounds anymore. Certainly a skill Huntsman had all along, but finally seemed to shake off the initial rust after his involuntary slumber. With the knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to catch him on that anymore, the scientist tried to focus on other giveaways.

What had started as an obvious attempt on grilling his nerves, developed into a near playful banter. Just the wordless back and forth to get the other to try harder. In an odd way, it almost felt like Huntsman was training him, but he was careful to keep that thought to himself. Syntax knew better than to read too much into the hunter's actions, as chaotic as they were.

Nonetheless, the scientist found himself trying to imitate the hunter now and then. Since the guy was going on about smelling all kind of stuff, he gave it a try himself. At first not picking up much more than the damp air in the cave, the metal of the machines. It took him a while to find stronger differences, trying to casually walk past Goliath and the Queen. He found it rather surprising that they didn't seem to do much to hide their presence, but maybe it was simply the comfort of the cave that allowed them to do so.

Picking up on Huntsman was an entirely different beast. The man always seemingly on guard, always ready to appear and disappear. However with time, the scientist managed to actually pick up on Huntsman’s scent, as faint as it was. Kind of earthy, a little bit mildewed, and Syntax could swear there was the ever lingering hint of fresh blood. Did this guy ever wash that pelt of his?

Of course, he would never claim that his own sense of scent was as powerful as the hunter’s, but it was enough to know who was currently around the cave. The little lady didn't seem to have any telltales like these, which usually would've raised red flags in his mind but… he didn't question it, nobody else did either. Anything else he came in contact with, the scents of the surface… became a mixed blend of too much too quickly. Maybe a task for another time.

Aside from that, scent and hearing weren’t the only senses he had noticed an improvement in! Their lair seemed to have become much less dark, he wasn’t as dependable on his goggles as he used to be anymore. What before had looked like chunky and random bits of webbing, now unveiled themselves as carefully crafted pieces with intriguing patterns, with uses he was still starting to understand. Goliath did his best to explain them in more 'common' terms, and it was always a pleasant surprise to see how excited the large spider became to share his knowledge. The more time Syntax spent within the Silk Web Cave, the more beautiful this place became to him. A pride welling up that he lived here.

However their hideout wasn’t the only thing that was much more layered than he previously thought. Turning around in his seat, he watched the other two henchmen going about their day. Currently sticking their heads together over something he couldn't see from his position. Still, he watched them a little, while he was sorting further observations in his mind.

...to no one’s surprise, when he wasn’t within the lair, Huntsman was hunting. Or at least, somewhere outside doing who knows what for days on end. Yet always coming back with some good pieces of meat, roots and berries (but mainly meat). The first time Syntax saw the hunter preparing food for dinner, he nearly refused to partake in it. Mostly because he couldn’t imagine his meals to taste anything but bland, or worse, be poisoned. Color him surprised, that stew was better than most dishes the Queen would concoct on a daily basis. Another thought Syntax would take to his grave before speaking it out loud.

When Huntsman wasn’t around for dinner, and everyone else felt too lazy to scavenge for some proper food options, Goliath and he would order takeout. The strong spider clearly intrigued by this concept, always wanting to try something new. Syntax often questioned the sanity of the cityfolk, considering that the delivery people didn’t had much care to come down near a spider den. The food from the surface world had something comforting to the scientist, as cheap and artifical as it sometimes was. Though he was really craving noodle soup as of late and he wasn’t entirely sure why. Syntax let out a little sigh while standing up.

This whole food thing had also shown an interesting side on Goliath. While the Queen and Huntsman didn’t seem to particularly care about human food (the latter even openly showing his distaste for it), the strong spider had taken a deep fascination. Especially sweets and candies seemed to have struck his attention the most. More than once did Syntax catch him just trying some new trendy food or colorful jawbreaker that he got from… who knows where. Goliath didn’t make any of this a secret, however he clearly wasn’t one with a rotten sweet-tooth as he barely finished anything. “For science.”, he once said with a wink and didn’t elaborate any further. Okay then.

“What are you two doing?”, Syntax casually asked as he wandered closer to the two. The strong spider looked up in confusion for a second before giving the younger man a smirk, “Secrets”. The scientist blinked owlishly, circling around them to look over the smaller spider’s shoulder. There were parchments of leather, deer if Syntax would have to guess, with Huntsman trying to draw squares and circles. Large black smudges here and there told the story of many previous attempts, letting the edges of the material look almost black by now.

"Get away from me.", the kneeling spider hissed, Syntax complying with an annoyed eye roll. Looking back at the larger man in an unspoken question. "We want to make a new robe for the Queen.", the giant almost beamed with excitement. Only for the big smile to water down in mild disappointment, "Buddy ain't good at designing though."

"If you wouldn't be just so damn picky!", Huntsman shot back, smudging away his latest attempt. "Just let me do what I do best, I know what I am d-"

"No!", Syntax flinched a little in surprise. It wasn't exactly an usual thing for Goliath to argue, or to even interrupt someone. "I want this to be special and you just can't get the patterns right! For the Queen's sake, just follow a plan for once!"

The scientist had to raise a brow. This was the first time he ever saw the two of them actually butting heads and… he had to admit, it was a little bit refreshing. Letting his eyes wander to some other pieces of leather, recognizing the sketches as copies from the patterns all over the cave. This one was a sigil of warding, as he had learned the other day, and a few were the Queen's own emblem. In case some other spider demon decided to come here, they would immediately know who's domain they dared to enter. The rest of those, he had not gotten an explanation yet.

"If I may.", mechanical arms shoved Huntsman unceremoniously to the side. Crouching down to pick up one of the charcoal, he started to draw. He was no expert on how to draw people by any means, but it certainly resembled the queen more than any of Huntsman's attempts. With careful strokes, he designed a fairly simple cut, working in the patterns on how he would think would look good on the Queen. It didn't pass him that the other two were watching with bated breath.

Once done, the scientist sat back on his heels, giving his creation a proper look. Not too shabby, if he may say so himself.

"Oh this is really good, Syntax!", Goliath cheered, looking like he wanted to touch the sketch but didn't dare to. On the other end of the emotional spectrum, Huntsman almost looked like he was about to explode.

"The fuck is your problem.", the elder hissed in dreadful silence, whole body tense and twitching. "What do you think you are!", he now became louder but Syntax did his best to just give him a neutral expression and not to budge. Which may not have been the best idea, as it only agitated the other further. The hunter was now standing, looming over him. "You really think you can just come in here and do whatever?! Think you can just be part of this??"

Large and sharp spider legs lashed out, in reflex Syntax let out a startled cry and raised his arms in an attempt of protection. But the pain didn't come. They hadn't aimed at him, instead… having shred the parchment with the sketches to bits. "I REFUSE TO WEAVE THIS."

Like an angry lion, the hunter had bared his fangs in a snarl. For a moment, Syntax was still prepared to be hit by the other, but the hunter suddenly turned around and just. Left. Goliath looked torn between the two men, mouthing a silent "Sorry" before hurrying after his friend.

A breath he didn't know he was holding, escaped his lungs. Syntax crumbled a bit to the floor, bitter thoughts flooding in. Just when he thought things were doing okay. Of course he had to step right into a sensitive nerve for the older spider. Heavy clicking pulled him out of his thoughts, but he couldn't care at the moment to look presentable before the Queen.

Spider Queen looked between the tired scientist and shredded pieces of leather, no apparent expression showing. But of course there was a glint of recognition in her eyes. "Why y'all causing such a ruckus?" Syntax sighed silently, giving a brief summary of the recent events.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable, the scientist not entirely sure how his Queen would react. To his surprise, she let out a little tired sigh. "Weaving is something quite personal to us. Especially if we do it for someone else.", she explained without really looking back at him. Instead giving the destroyed sketches another glance. "Just pretend this never happened. He'll get over it." With that, she simply left.

Syntax pulled his lips into a frown. Just ignore this all? If Huntsman got over it or not, it did not matter. His fists clenched a little, looking at the floor, choking and holding back bitter tears he could feel burning in hte back of his eyes. Syntax was more upset that he apparently wasn't allowed to be an actual part of this clan, no matter how hard he tried.

#spider queen just ignoring problems?#more likely than you think #lego monkie kid #lmk syntax #lmk huntsman #lmk goliath #lmk spider queen

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vampiremeerkat · 3 years

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This is not a request just a question: Have you ever thought of doing art on the Disney version of hades & persephone? I know in the hercules show they never had her show up (and from what I read they were going to change her to being hades & demeter's daughter, and they were in a custody battle). I guess they had a hard time trying to work her in. Though I'm sure you could've made the story of the two work, evil guys & sweet gals is something you're good at writing.

I have not, I don't think I've ever drawn Hercules fanart. Maybe a few sketches attempting Meg back in early high school. Why make Persephone his daughter. There are multiple Greek characters argued to be his offspring, they could've gone with any of them. Though Hades wished to marry one of the incest children of his incestuously conceived brother, because triple incest is even cooler, I wouldn't deviate too much from Persephone's initial role as his love interest. I think their monogamous relationship, especially in contrast with how that whore Zeus lived his life, is the one element that drives people to put the two names together in the first place. But well, daughter or wife, scrapping Persephone was for the best. Hercules is about Hercules, not Hades and his family life. Anyway, you're probably not even asking me how I'd make it work in the original movie, rather as a stand-alone story. Not that you explicitly asked anything at all. I'd cut Persephone off from Zeus and his sister wife, and make her a mortal woman, one described to be flawless and pure of heart and mind. The kind of person any god would love to have as a sacrifice. Having that said, her soul is unknowingly sold to Hades by her father to save his deathly ill wife. While minding her own business, she's suddenly dragged into the underworld and told the news. Having learned from Meg, Hades no longer sees the benefit of keeping feeble, grieving humans around as servants and contemplates kicking her down the soul pit right away, but the differences between Persephone and Meg are quickly picked up on. Unlike Meg, Persephone hasn't given him one resentful look, and her silent defeatist mentality has him take pity on the foo'. And she's hypotizingly beautiful, that helps, why not. Anyway, Hades "cheers her up" by letting her be his replacement Meg, opposed to an immobilized spirit in a gooey lake, but he finds himself increasingly unwilling to give her chores -mainly those that are bound to humiliate her or risk her safety. She's too honest and not bold enough, you can't send her to swoon a giant centaur. The fact Hades even cares is the dilemma; he never had to contemplate whether something was inappropriate with the headstrong Meg, though he excuses his reluctance as not wanting the jobs to be half-assed. He feels charmed by Persephone's patience and tolerance for him, which is more than what anyone's ever graced him with. She shows understanding for his discontentedness and feels for the way he's being treated by humans and gods, since no one likes death, after all. One of her biggest compliments to him would be the fact how comedic and animated he is for a god of death, which would make the underworld a surprisingly fun place if he'd allow the dead to fade away whilst experiencing the same joy he brings her. Hades is perplexed to learn he brought her joy this entire time, since he was set on being her intimidating boss. Throughout the story, Hades still has his eyes on Hercules, who's claimed -and has continued to be- the one thing that prevents a successful future for him. The oracles give him a new, vague prediction that introduces the existence of a star, which has to keep on shining if he wants the guarantee he'll receive a gratifying life. Hades keeps his sights on the night time sky in order to protect this supposedly fragile star when it shows up. Meanwhile, Persephone's mother is looking for a way to find and save her daughter, which ironically worsens her health. She dies during her strenuous journey, and when her soul enters the underworld, Hades recognizes her and has to make the decision whether to spare this woman a second time, or to admit her time ran out months ago. While he's thinking it over, Persephone shows up, but doesn't make her presence known. Hades sends the soul back to the land of the living, and the spying Persephone becomes instantly smitten by him over it. She never tells him she watched him do this, though, and there isn't much else she says or does to express her changed feelings, since she was already being nice to him and doesn't know how to take the next step. As for the main conflict.. I guess it would be the other gods learning Hades has a human girl for a slave, since he proudly "shows her off" by having her wait for him outside the borders of whatever divine area he's visiting. Perhaps he mentions her as well, but then it was believed he was talking about a goddess. Hercules feels most offended and plans to save Persephone, and since Hades already has beef with him, sees no problem in trying to kill him for barging into his domain again. He sends everything he has Hercules' way, but he perseveres. When Hercules makes it clear to have come for Persephone, Hades calls him a womanizer, because yo, and contemplates using her as a bargaining chip/trap. This would involve killing Persephone in order to kill him. Hercules expresses willingness to take dangerous risks if it entails saving a life, making it appealing for Hades to go through with it, but he can't, because Persephone is his girl. Hercules sees his chance and beats him to a pulp, but Persephone intervenes and exclaims not to be in danger. He's a bit skeptical over her acceptance of the villain, but chooses to believe her and withdraws. Hades learns she's the prophesied star he needed to spare, or some sappy shait. As for the ending, it's made clear it's not healthy for mortal beings to live in the underworld, so she and Hades agree to do (mostly) scheduled visitations. He fires her from being his servant and she reunites with her mother and remorseful father. I'll give the original mythology a little twist; where Spring and Summer-like days are the moments she's staying with Hades, while colder days signal her return home, caused by Hades' stage 3 depression. Not that it matters much, I suppose, Hades should be able to visit her as well, but I imagine the man is busy.

#hercules #hades #persephone #meg #megara

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