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magiccath · 5 months

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Mornings

tenth doctor x reader

Summary: In which you have a calming morning in with the Doctor

CW: a morning-after fic, so some NSFW content is implied, but no smut. Some disrobing later in the fic, but again no smut.

The Doctor didn’t really sleep, he didn’t need to. Then he started dating you, and the thought of you going to bed away from him was unbearable. He had taken to falling asleep with you in his arms, safe and sound. You had no reason to complain, you’d take any chance for a cuddle.

Slowly, he stirred awake, his eyes gently fluttering open. He smiled brightly at the sight in front of him. In all of time and space, he couldn’t imagine a better way to wake up.

You laid across from him, deep in sleep. The silken blue sheets rested slightly above your hip, leaning your bare legs covered from sight. His eyes traveled up your body, noting that sometime last night you had slipped one of his shirts on. He was torn between admiring you in his shirt and being upset that you had put anything on at all. He settled on the former. It made him smile - you, in one of his shirts.

Your hair was sprawled across the pillow, and your face was resting peacefully. It was times like this that the Doctor allowed himself to marvel at you. This beautiful being who loved him. Of all the people in the universe, you had chosen him.

You stirred slightly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Unconsciously you nuzzled into the pillow, searching for comfort. The Doctor smiled and brushed a hair away from your face. Not wanting to remove his hand from your face, he stroked your cheek gently. Without even thinking, he traced the words of a long-lost language into your skin. His thumbs brushed phrases like ‘I love you’ and ‘my love’ onto your skin in soft, concentric circles.

Desperate for you, he moved his face closer to yours, planting slow and delicate kisses on every inch of your skin. The crook of your neck, the rise of your chin, the arch of your cheekbone, the tip of your nose, the smooth skin of your forehead - anywhere he could reach.

The feather light brush of his lips slowly roused you from your sleep, your eyes eventually opening. The Doctor smiled brightly at you, pulling back to look at you. You were absolutely stunning to him in every single way.

“Good morning.”

You grunted and turned your head back into the pillow in response, still not fully awake. The Doctor chuckled and pulled you into him, his arms wrapping firmly around your waist. You slung a leg over his hips in response, comfortably draping yourself over the Time Lord. Happily, you nuzzled your nose into his neck. You breathed in his familiar scent, hints of cinnamon and freshly brewed tea calming your senses. You could stay like this forever, drifting in and out of consciousness in his arms.

His hands traveled up your - his - shirt, dancing his slender fingers across the bare skin of your back. His touch was warm and comforting, more than enough to urge you back to sleep. However, the Doctor had other ideas.

His lips fluttered around your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Coffee?” he whispered, his husky voice sending tremors down your body.

Begrudgingly, you lifted your head upwards to look at him. He was so handsome. Up close, you could map every single one of his thousands of freckles. Without thinking much about it, you let your fingers trace the lines between them, connecting the soft spots scattered across his nose and cheeks like constellations.

His hair was messy from sleep, but then again, it was always messy. The Doctor had a nasty habit of manhandling his hair at all hours of the day. As a result, the strands remained constantly tussled and spiky.

“Yes, please,” you uttered, hardly above a whisper. It took everything in you not to get lost in his eyes. Deep pools of chocolate brown that held hundreds of years of wisdom. He didn’t know it, but his eyes could be so expressive. You had spent long enough with him that they could give away his feelings in an instant, even if the rest of his face remained impassive.

The Doctor nodded and rotated you, freeing himself from your grip. You flopped onto your back, admiring him from the comfort of the mattress. You loved looking at him as he moved about, only vaguely aware of your admiring gaze.

He grabbed his PJ bottoms from the floor and slipped into them, doing a little hop to get them up over his hips.

You rubbed your eyes and started to get up to follow. It was hard to pull yourself out of the warm embrace of your bed, but you slowly managed to move. You slipped your body off the side of the bed and started to walk. Your legs, still sore from the night before, wobbled underneath you.

The Doctor laughed, admiring his own work with a smirk. If your legs were still unsteady hours later, then he had done somthng right.

“Shut up,” you snapped, shifting your weight on your shaking legs. The Doctor wasted no time picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. He couldn’t help but pride himself in the fact that your legs were still wobbling. It was an extremely rare occurrence, but one of the many indicators that you had enjoyed yourself as much as he had.

“Oi!” you gasped, slapping his back. “I’m perfectly capable of walking!”

He only smiled in response, happily carrying you down the hall and towards the TARDIS kitchen. Eventually, you gave up and went limp. You didn’t get a say in this.

The Doctor made his way through the corridors of the ship proudly. Still carrying you, he entered the kitchen. It was a messy mix of human and alien, with all kinds of foods and appliances stored in random places in the room.

Gently, he set you down on the counter next to the coffee pot. There was a normal, human one, for you. Next to it, the Doctor had is own, less human, ways of making coffee. You said it tasted like space dirt, so he never made it for you.

You crossed your arms and glared at him as he mulled about, preparing your coffee. Silently, he scooped the coffee grounds into the machine, pressing the ‘on’ button.

“You suck,” you pouted. He smiled over his shoulder, knowing that you didn’t mean it.

While the coffee brewed, he occupied himself with you. Positioning himself between your knees, he planted more kisses across your face. Now that he wasn’t worried about waking you up, his kisses were firmer. His lips danced across the planes of your face, peppering loving kisses across it.

“You love me,” he whispered in your ear, nibbling on the soft spot behind it.

You couldn’t help but mewl into his touch, pulling him closer to you. The Doctor smirked against the base of your neck, biting down softly. He was right, you did love him. More than you had ever loved anyone in your life.

He trailed kisses back up your neck, hovering over your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut, leaning in to close the gap between your mouths. Ever the tease, he pulled away from you. You groaned loudly as he backed away from you, going back to the coffee pot.

You glared at his toned back as he prepped you a cup of coffee. He made it exactly the way you liked it. You shouldn’t have been surprised he knew you so well, but you always were. It was the small things that reminded you how much the Doctor loved you. A perfect cup of coffee in the morning, your favorite dinner after a long day, a comforting hand slipped into yours on adventures, those kinds of things.

He brought you the steaming mug with a kiss, letting his lips linger for a few moments. You sighed into it, more than happy to revive the affection and the beverage. Pulling away from you, the Doctor planted multiple chaste kisses on your lips, not wanting to sever the connection.

As he kissed you, he guided your arms over his shoulders, your hands clutching your warm coffee against the base of his neck. You rested your head tiredly against his shoulder, the coolness of his bare skin radiating against your cheek. He then urged your legs around his middle, placing his hands on the base of your thighs to support your weight.

Firmly secured to his front, the Doctor sauntered off back down the corridors of the ship. Without any suggestion as to where you were going, you closed your eyes and allowed the Doctor to carry you around.

He made his way to the bathroom, setting you back down on the counter next to the sink before milling about the room. He shut the door and turned the shower on, allowing it to heat up.

You drank your coffee happily as he slipped his PJ bottoms off, his underwear following. Shamelessly, you ogled at his bum.

You hid your wandering eyes behind the rim of your coffee cup. Still, the Doctor raised his eyebrows at you, having caught you staring. You blushed and turned away from him. You knew you were allowed to look, but it was still a little embarrassing getting caught. The Doctor giggled and kissed your cheek tenderly.

His fingers then made quick haste of the shirt you had thrown on last night, sliding it up and over your shoulders. The cold air of the bathroom chilled your exposed skin, sending goose pimples across your bare chest.

You took another drink of coffee if only to hide the scarlet flush that dominated your face. So this is how your morning was going to go?

The Doctor’s hands then slid your underwear down your legs, the action tantalizingly slow. You watched him with wide eyes, your coffee still clutched tightly in your hands.

Once you were disrobed, the Doctor stepped away from you. His eyes traveled down your body as they often did, admiring your entire form. He sucked in a sharp breath, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Then, without a word, he turned away from you and slipped into the shower.

You scoffed, he hadn’t even invited you in. Stubbornly, you remained on the counter. You sipped your coffee silently, awaiting an invitation to join the Doctor.

After a few moments, the Doctor popped his head out of the shower, his eyebrows knitted together.

“Well, get in here,” He gestured with his head, urging you into the shower.

You giggled and downed the rest of your coffee before slipping down from the counter, eagerly making your way to him. Once you were within reach, the Doctor snagged your arm and dragged you in after him with a mischievous smirk.

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merakiui · 2 months

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[01] 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓉, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁.

villain!azul ashengrotto x magical girl!reader note - welcome to this very impulsive magical girl parody! i'm not sure how many chapters it will be exactly, but i'm looking forward to writing more. i hope you'll enjoy reading! chapter navigation: [01] (you are here) // [02]

Magic is a messy, complex thing.

It can enchant and amaze with beautiful, endless possibilities. It can terrify with traumatic results. Like any sort of power in this world, it is a heavy responsibility for those who wield it. Everything has its dark side; you’re sure the same holds true for magic. No matter how marvelous it may be, surely there exists some shadow.

It’s also something you can’t use, and so the good and the bad don’t really apply to you!

Not that this is cause for envy. Rather, you’re relieved you don’t have to worry about experiencing the problems that accompany magic. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is; magic would only further complicate it. With no other plausible way to return to your world, you’ve had to make your home here on Sage’s Island. It’s an isolated place, boasting two elite magical universities and a bustling town.

It also happens to resemble a chicken wing on maps, so that’s a plus. Truly an ideal getaway! If only you weren’t trapped here indefinitely… Maybe then you’d have better appreciation for it.

As it happens, you’re a janitor living in the abandoned, decrepit dorm on the outskirts of campus. It took a month since you moved in, but you’ve managed to clean it up into a habitable space with the help of its resident haunts. The Headmage hasn’t been very helpful or present since your arrival, and so you’ve had to make do with what little you’ve been given. But for all of his troubling qualities, he isn’t inherently cruel. He’s kind enough to pay you for your services (but then that was only after you threatened him into an agreement), and he doesn’t overwork you (again, this is because you made it abundantly clear you won’t do anything if it violates your own sanity in some way, shape, or form). At least he’s willing to negotiate every time you argue for humane working conditions.

He’s an irksome guy. You can’t believe he has the gall to call himself the ‘embodiment of magnanimity’ when he’s done the bare minimum. Even the ghosts have offered more assistance and they don’t have any sort of authority here! You’re pleased to share a space with them. Sometimes they seem more reliable than the Headmage.

Despite your attempts to acclimate, the illustrious Night Raven College is still a place wholly unsuitable for a magicless human such as yourself. You’re the same age as some of the students here, but they feel like they’re on another level. Flying overhead on brooms, casting spells, mixing up potions… You listen in on some of their conversations while washing windows or sweeping the floors and wonder if all magic schools are this rigorous.

Maybe that’s any school regardless of its curriculum. Any sort of academic pursuit comes with difficulties; that’s normal. But magic is a facet unique to this world. There aren’t any arcane academies where you’re from, but now you wish there were. They seem so fascinating.

“Not much of my problem, though, is it?” you mumble, shaking free of that thought. Being a janitor is great. You can avoid the stress of school and keep up with the gossip exchanged in the halls. It’s like reading the newspaper, only it’s spoken instead of written.

Morning spills through the part in the curtains when you open them. You shut your eyes and bask in the warming glow of a sunshine smooch. It’s going to be another great day—you’re sure of this—and a day as pleasant as this deserves to be lived in its entirety. Perhaps you’ll have a picnic outside or you could even—

BAM.

Your eyes snap open just in time to view the raven who’s slammed itself against the window. Disoriented, it jerks itself up and away from the glass, flapping its wings wildly. You watch its attempts with a pitying frown. And then, inching closer to pull the window open to allow the raven respite, you see it: the blue flames racing towards you at a rapid speed.

With a yelp, you dive out of the way just in time. Due to the forceful blast, the window shatters in a spray of glass. Heat licks at your face, so hot it almost singes your brows, and you stumble to the other side of the room in a panicked daze.

“You lousy bird!” someone exclaims, the words pronounced in a growl. “Get back here so I can nab ya and prove that I’m worthy of bein’ at this school!”

The raven squawks, fluttering wildly about your room. A sleek, obsidian-colored feather floats into your hand. You don’t have time to admire it, for the curtains have just caught fire.

“Come on—I just put those up last week!” you bemoan, looking on in abject horror.

From the opening, a furry creature bursts through. He resembles a grey cat with his short, fluffy stature, but his tail is shaped strangely and there’s blue fire flickering from his ears. The same blue fire he’s currently conjuring in an attempt to catch the raven…

You grab hold of the coat rack—the nearest viable weapon you can think of—and jump in front of him. He startles and leaps back when you swing.

“What’re you doing?! You can’t do that in here! Fuck—my curtains! Don’t light anything else on fire!”

Baffled, the cat-creature scoffs at you. “How was I supposed to know someone’s livin’ in here? Not my fault!”

“It’s a residence! Of course someone lives here! I live here!”

“When they make me the Great Mage Grim, I’ll fix this place up for ya. That’s a promise! I just gotta catch that bird and prove myself a worthy candidate. Just you wait—they’ll be puttin’ my name up in lights!”

“Like hell they will!”

With a devastated groan, you whack the curtains down with the coat rack. They land in a heap, smoke curling from beneath the pile and sliding out the shattered window in dark, wispy tendrils. It takes a frazzled few stomps and smacks before the fire fizzles away, leaving you with charred curtains and the distinct stench of something scorched.

Still panting from the adrenaline rush, you loosen your grip on the coat rack. This is a mess. What am I going to do? I don’t have enough money to fix this!

You turn your hateful scowl on the cat-creature. “You!”

“W-Wait! Wait!” He raises a paw to his lips and gestures towards your bedside table. The raven sits perched, a golden chain wrapped around its neck and an envelope clasped in its beak. In all of the chaos, you must have missed that. “Don’t say a word. It’s right there.”

He approaches stealthily, slow as a sloth, and pounces. He misses narrowly, ending up with a mouthful of feathers instead. The raven caws and takes flight, circling overhead.

He spits feathers. “Myahaha! I got it! I actually—oh. Dumb bird… No one can escape the Great Grim.”

The raven lands on your shoulder next. It cocks its head at you.

“What? Is this for me?” you ask, even though you’re certain of the answer. You pluck the envelope from the raven, who sets to preening itself now that it’s no longer occupied.

“Give it here!” The cat-creature hops up onto your bed, reaching with an expectant paw. “That bird’s got my admission letter!”

“Your letter?” You hold it out of reach and stick your tongue out at him. “No ‘great mage’ sets someone’s home on fire. You’re a subpar mage, if anything.”

“I am not! You just wait—I’ll show you!”

“I don’t want to see anymore.” Turning away, you break the wax seal and procure the parchment waiting within.

He swipes at you impatiently. “Lemme see! What’s it say?”

Written in elegant script, complete with a stamp you’ve never seen before, it looks very official. Whoever wrote it is exceptionally good at cursive, their letters swooping together seamlessly. It’s almost like a decorative artwork with its double-looped O’s and dancing cursive. You marvel at the craftsmanship, wishing your handwriting could look as refined as this person’s.

To whom it may concern, Greetings and congratulations on your admittance into the program! We recognize your outstanding achievements as a model student and believe you have what it takes to do wonderful things. It is with great pride that we bestow upon you a piece of magical history, referred to as The Tried-and-True Trident. You will find it enclosed in this letter.

You look up from the letter just as an aureate necklace lands in your palm. The raven blinks at you once before lifting itself off of your shoulder with a flap of its inky wings. It departs through the window, up into the cloudless, cerulean sky, in a flurry of feathers. There’s a tiny trident pendant hanging from the chain. It winks at you in the light, so shiny you think you might catch your reflection if you stare long enough. You’re not sure what part of it is tried or true, for it looks more like costume jewelry than anything. At least it’s cute. Kind of fashionable, even.

With this historic piece, you are now free to wield the wonders of the sea as you please. You are expected to use these powers to defend those you hold dear from the threat of tragedy. You should have met with your mentor already. If not, we shall send someone to escort you. We look forward to beholding your excellent heroics. Sincerely,

“Gimme that!”

Grim snatches the letter before you can glimpse the name signed at the bottom. The enchanted letter tears in two and then, before both of your eyes, it promptly disintegrates.

You eye the fuzzball with a fresh bout of vitriol. “What did you say your name was again?”

“It’s Grim—the Great Grim—and I promise ya as soon as I—”

“Good. Now I know what name to carve on your tombstone when I put you in the ground for ruining my letter!” You reach for the coat rack, expression ablaze with newfound ferocity.

Grim yelps and scurries away. “H-Hold on! I can fix it!”

“How? It’s ash!”

“Well, what did it say? I’m sure I can explain it to ya!”

“It said something about this necklace. The something-something trident. Protecting loved ones from tragedy. Admittance into some program. A mentor…”

“Mentor… Mentor! Yeah, that sounds about right!” Grim laughs proudly. “Aren’t you in luck, human! I’m gonna be your mentor.”

“Sure you are.” You rest your hand on your hip, brows raised. “The same cat who destroyed my window and curtains is gonna mentor me in whatever this is. Funny story.”

His jaw drops. “A-At least pretend like it’s cool! And I’m not a cat!” He hops off of your bed with a huff. “Ungrateful human. You’re undeserving of the Great Grim’s teaching anyways! I don’t need you!”

“Other way around.”

“You don’t need me!”

“There we go.” You applaud him sardonically. “Look, I don’t know what any of this is. I’m sure it was a mistake. I’m not even a student here.”

Grim, who had been on his way towards the door, halts. He turns to face you slowly. “Yer…not a student?”

“I work here. There’s no way for me to be enrolled here because I can’t use magic.”

“W-Wha—can’t use magic?! Then why did you get in, but I didn’t?!”

You can only shrug. The necklace twists idly when you hold it up for closer inspection. “So this thing is supposed to help me? Hey, Grim, do you know what this is?”

You lower to his height and hold your hand out. He watches you dubiously before approaching and leaning in to sniff at the chain.

“Smells fine to me. Kinda like wet metal.”

“I didn’t ask for a flavor profile.” You heave a tired sigh. The day’s only just begun and you’re already swamped with nonsense. “Maybe that Headmage knows something.”

Grim gasps. “You’re chummy with the Headmage? You think you could talk him into lettin’ me join?”

“Why do you even want in so badly?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a renowned mage! They should be begging me to join!”

Anyone could’ve sent that letter. It might not even be from the Headmage… If I knew the sender’s name, I could just track them down and ask them.

“You said you wanted to prove yourself, didn’t you?” You offer your hand again, this time to shake on it. “Become my mentor. That’ll show that Crowley you’re plenty capable. Then you can get into this school and I can find a way to return this necklace to its rightful owner.”

Grim folds his arms over his chest, avoiding your hand like it’s the plague. “And what’s in it for me? My services aren’t cheap, y’know!”

“You can live here with me. I’ll find ways to sneak you into the lecture halls if you wanna sit in and observe the class.”

“How about food?”

“Food is…” Nonexistent, really. That cheapskate Crowley! I’ve got to talk him into raising my pay. “I get paid at the end of this week. We’ll have to survive off of what’s in the fridge and the lunch I’m allowed to get from the cafeteria for now.”

Grim’s features soften. “Hm… I guess it’s not terrible. Could be better. But all great mages start from humble beginnings—including myself, but you’d never be able to guess!”

“Right…”

With how carelessly you tossed that fire around, you’re the last mage I should be partnering with.

“Do we have a deal, Grim? You’ll be my mentor and I’ll help you wherever I can.”

Grim places his paw in your palm, his chest puffed out. “You’d better start callin’ me Teacher!”

A smile strains on your lips. “Not happening.”

With a firm shake, your pact is made.

“So what spells do you know? Any that might be able to fix up a window and some curtains?”

“You don’t need those lame spells! The Great Grim can do plenty of other amazing feats.”

“Like?”

“Very amazing feats. Didn’t you hear me?”

“You don’t know anything, do you?”

Grim flinches, guilt flashing across his countenance.

“Is blue fire all you can summon?”

“I… I can do much more! This is just a fraction of my true power! If I had a magestone, this whole spell business would be a lot easier.”

“A magestone? Ah, those things the students have on their pens? I guess that would be helpful. Where can we get one, though?”

“I’d tell ya if I knew.”

“The library might know. If we head there now, we can spend the rest of the morning researching and then we can get lunch.” You reach to fasten the chain around your neck. It’s tucked under your shirt next, safe and sound. “Wait outside for a minute. I’ll change out of my pajamas, clean up the window, and then we’ll be on our way.”

Grim trots out the door without resistance. “I’ll grab a snack from the fridge while yer doin’ all that stuff.”

“One snack! Don’t eat everything!”

But he’s already bounding away, singing as he goes: “Free eats can’t be beat!” Sighing, you shut the door and turn to assess the state of your bedroom. It could be worse. Your bed could have been damaged, or you could have sustained quite the nasty burn.

One mess at a time.

You change into your uniform, which is really just a PE jumpsuit. The same one the students wear. This one has seen better days and it’s a size too big on you, but it’s all Crowley claimed to have on hand when you asked about work clothes. Once again, you soothe yourself with your favorite adage: It could be worse.

You could be homeless. You could be starving. You could be dead.

So it’s not so bad to wear the spare. It’s still got the dorm patch and class numbers sewn onto it, albeit both have worn considerably. Your eyes are drawn to them as you admire yourself in the mirror. Octavinelle Dorm… You’ve heard there are seven dormitories at this school, each based on a historical figure and representing the various spirits of these people. The sorting at the entrance ceremony was something special for the incoming first-years. You’d felt a little awkward to disturb such a grand occasion, even more so when the Dark Mirror announced to a hall full of talented mages that there isn’t an iota of magic in you.

Quite the humbling experience.

But sometimes you wonder which dorm the Dark Mirror would have chosen if your soul was bursting with magical capability.

As of now you’re a faux member of Octavinelle—whatever that implies.

By the time you’ve managed to sweep the glass, dispose of the ruined curtains, and patch the window with a temporary placeholder—what a relief for pasteboard and masking tape—Grim’s nearly through the few items left in your fridge. You yank him away just as he reaches for a container of leftovers.

“If you eat too much, you’ll spoil your lunch.”

“Can’t imagine that problem.”

“You sound so proud of your bottomless stomach.”

“And you’re not?”

You roll your eyes and tug your sneakers on. “Let’s be off.”

“How’re we gonna sneak me in?”

“How do you feel about becoming my temporary purse pet?”

Grim looks unimpressed when you hold your tote bag open for him. “No way!”

“It has lots of space and it’s stylish. Besides, shouldn’t your dedicated student pay proper respect to her great, glorious mentor?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his approving smirk. “Well, when ya put it like that…”

After Grim clambers into your bag, you lock the front door behind you and set off for campus.

“Please don’t blow our cover, Grim.”

From within the depths of your tote, he scoffs. “The Great Grim is the stealthiest mage you’ll ever meet!”

“I highly doubt that.”

It’s the second time you’ve found yourself in the library, but it’s still just as impressive as ever. You could spend hours here, wandering between shelves and skimming all sorts of tomes. Some of them are written in languages you can’t decipher, so you observe the pictures provided in hopes of gleaning any clues. Grim lounges on a chair beside you, absentmindedly turning through a thick textbook. You managed to find a relatively isolated corner in the very back and it’s not especially busy today. The promise of a hearty lunch keeps him well-behaved.

“Find anything?”

“Nothin’ important. Ugh. This stuff is the worst! Why can’t a magestone fall from the sky? That’d be a whole lot easier than this.”

“It sucks, yeah, but what else can we do?” You rest your face against your palm and scan through yet another page of information. “Let’s keep looking. I’m sure we’ll find something useful.”

“Nngh… I’m hungry.”

“You just ate.”

“That was hours ago!”

“Has it really been that long?”

“Feels like it.”

You lean back in your chair and stretch, listening to the satisfying snap of your joints as they crack into place. “Can you understand any of these words?”

“Most of ’em.”

You point to a specific place in the paragraph. “Can you tell me what this one means? I think I’ve got the general idea based on the graphics, but I could be wrong.”

Grim glances at it, his blue hues waltzing across the page. “It’s about merfolk.”

“Merfolk? They exist in this world?” And then you pause to gather your delayed thoughts. “Never mind. That would make sense.”

“What about ’em?”

“Where I’m from, merfolk aren’t real. They’re fiction.”

“Huh. A place without any merfolk… Bet they don’t have anyone like me either. I’m one of a kind!” Grim chuckles. “So where’re you from?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps interrupts. You usher Grim under the table, who goes but not without protest. He ducks under just in time, hiding within the shadows. A student rounds the corner and stops short when he sees you. He’s holding a few books in his arms, each looking more heavy than the last.

“Ah,” the both of you say in unison.

He clears his throat and offers you a cordial nod. “I wasn’t aware someone had already claimed this corner.”

You eye him carefully. He looks familiar. Glasses. Silvery-grey hair. Blue eyes. Where have you seen him before?

“It’s all yours. I was just leaving.” You move to stand, but he steps closer.

He peers at the open textbook lying in front of you. A smile you can’t quite classify as friendly spreads on his lips. “Is that so? You seem especially engrossed in this book.”

“I like to stay educated.”

I genuinely can’t understand a word in this text.

“On the anatomy of merfolk?”

You shut your mouth at once. That’s what this is? No wonder the diagrams looked…unique. But you’re too committed to your story to falter now.

“Especially the anatomy of merfolk.”

The student chuckles, but it sounds hollow to your ears. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. You’re in Octavinelle?”

You gape at him like a fish out of water before realizing the jumpsuit and its patch. “Oh! Ohhh, no, not at all. This is an old uniform.”

He looks at you with more scrutiny until it clicks. “I remember now. You’re the magicless girl who so carelessly interrupted—ah, forgive me—fortuitously appeared during the entrance ceremony last month.”

What a little fake. You narrow your eyes at him, suddenly defensive. Now you’re made aware of who he is. He was one of the few in the audience during your awkward arrival. Back then, he was clad in a robe with his hood up and so you only caught sight of his glasses and the swoop of his silvery-grey hair peeking out. You’re certain this is the same guy. You could’ve said that without the backhanded barb.

“So my reputation precedes me.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “I disagree. You’re still quite the mystery.”

“Well, there’s nothing to solve.” You rise from your seat, reaching for your bag. “I’m just a janitor trying to get by.”

He hums. You can’t decipher the meaning in that, but you don’t particularly care enough to drive yourself mad over it. You feel around on the chair for Grim. He was just here a moment ago…

You drop to your knees to check under the table. Your heart plummets into your stomach.

Grim, you had one job!

“Is something the matter?”

You pop up from beneath the table so fast that your head knocks into it. “Shit! Ow! Yeah, no, I’m fine. I thought I dropped my pencil.”

You scan the rest of the space as discreetly as you can. The student watches you. You don’t like the way he seems to stare through you as if intending to gain access to your very soul. As if he sees something you don’t.

“Have a wonderful day. Study hard. Pass your tests. Get—uh—the scholarship or whatever.”

Flashing him your most nonchalant grin, you make your way down the aisle at a pace that is the exact opposite of relaxed. There’s no time to dwell on that off-kilter exchange. You’ve got a runaway cat-creature in dire need of capture!

The one day I take off and it’s the day my window’s ruined, I get a weird letter, and my new roommate is missing. That’s horrible luck!

You walk briskly through the library, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. Grim couldn’t have gotten far. You were only distracted for a few minutes, and the library is huge. Perhaps he’s just lost and waiting in place for you to find him. For some reason you can’t fool yourself into believing this train of thought.

Your search takes you out of the library and down the hall. Where could he have possibly gone? Surely he didn’t make his way back to Ramshackle. You check the time on your watch. It’s almost lunch.

Lunch! Of course!

You hurry towards the cafeteria with rekindled purpose.

I’m going to start calling him Gluttonous Mage Grim if he makes this a habit!

Fortunately, Grim is predictable. You’ve only known him for a day—not even—but it’s not so difficult to pinpoint his location after you’ve worked out his motivations. Unfortunately, you make it to the cafeteria just as the grand chandelier falls from its support in the ceiling, crash-landing in a broken heap. And standing just feet away from the damage, looking very guilty, is Grim alongside two students you’ve never seen before. Crowley’s there as well, just as frazzled as the feathers on his coat. He’s in the middle of lecturing them about the importance of this relic—how it’s been with the school since it was founded and it’s an irreplaceable piece that would cost over a billion Madol to fix—when he takes notice of you.

“(Name), it’s devastating! A most heart-wrenching tragedy! Why, it’s enough to bring one to tears.”

“Seems so…” You shoot Grim a vicious look. So much for being covert. Not so stealthy now, huh? “I’ll get the broom.”

“No, not yet. These three—” he turns towards them, yellow eyes fierce— “are expelled!”

“Expelled?!” the navy-haired student exclaims. He looks like he’s just stared Death in the face. “This can’t be… What will my mother think? I promised her I was gonna get good grades, attend all of my classes, pass my tests…”

“Hey, it’s not my fault. That hairball’s the one who started it!” the other argues, his arms folded over his chest.

“No way! It wasn’t me!”

Crowley clicks his tongue. “Unbelievable. This school has zero tolerance for blatant tomfoolery. Surely you’re all aware…” He pauses to look at Grim. “And you! You’re not even a student here! Just what are you doing, trespassing on school property?”

Grim flounders dizzily. “Spinning…”

“He’s my roommate.” All eyes flick towards you. “I’m letting him stay for now. Sorry if that breaks any rules. I just don’t believe in turning others away, even if they’re prone to causing trouble.”

“What a noble soul,” Crowley murmurs, impressed. “Well, if that’s the case, seeing as he’s nothing more than a talking pet cat—”

“I ain’t a pet or a cat!”

“I’m afraid my previous statement still remains in place. He’s not to be on school grounds.”

“You heard the Headmage. No school for you.”

But Grim’s already lying flat on the floor like a defeated pancake.

“Then what about us? That hairball can’t get the easy way out and leave us with the worst of it!”

“There’s a way to fix this, isn’t there?”

“Y-Yeah! Can’t you just use magic to fix it right up? It’ll be good as new. Someone with your skill should be able to do it.”

Crowley shakes his head, mournful. “Magic is not limitless. Not only that, but the magestone powering this great chandelier is cracked. And those are not so easily replaced. I fear this is the final day this miraculous chandelier will ever grace this grand hall with its light.”

The ginger-haired student grimaces. “Not good…”

The other withers. “Expelled… What am I going to do? I can’t go back home with this news!”

A magestone… That’s what Grim needs. You glance at the one set into the chandelier. A ghastly crack runs up the surface. Are they really that special?

Before both can succumb to their melancholy, Crowley says, “There is one way! Possibly…”

“Really? What is it?” they say at once, eyes bulging with hope.

“This very magestone was mined from the Dwarfs’ Mine. Perhaps, should you procure one of similar qualities, the chandelier can be repaired.”

“Then… Okay! I’ll get a magestone! As long as it’s all right with you, sir.”

“Ah, but the mines have been closed for some time. I reckon the magestones are all but gone.”

“I’m sure I can find one. Please, sir, I’ll do anything to stay here!”

Crowley seems to consider this. Eventually, he nods his approval. “I’m willing to postpone your expulsion for now.” The navy-haired student’s relief is short-lived when he adds, “However, if you fail to bring a magestone to me by the first rays of the morning sun, it will be expulsion for the both of you. No further exceptions.”

With a hasty nod, he says, “Of course! I understand! Thank you so much for the second chance. I won’t let you down!”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s get this over with.”

You gather an unconscious Grim in your arms while Crowley instructs the students on how to access the mine. They stride off with different degrees of enthusiasm. You open your mouth to ask permission, but Crowley beats you to it.

“Please do accompany them. I trust you’re responsible enough to handle any trouble?”

“If you raise my pay, I’ll do anything.”

He clutches his chest. “Your proclivity to bargain strikes through to my very soul! Ah, but since I am the kindest Headmage I shall grant your request.”

With a satisfied grin, you hold Grim tighter and run off after the pair. “Thanks again, Headmage!”

You follow them all the way to the Mirror Chamber. It’s just as imposing as you recall, but there’s a serene quality to the space that wasn’t there before. Maybe it’s because you’re here willingly and there isn’t an audience to witness your poorly timed debut.

You approach both of them. “Hey! Sorry to bother, but could I join you?”

They turn to look at you. Grim shifts in your arms, groaning.

“I don’t see why not. Welcome to the team,” the navy-haired student says with an awkward smile.

“Might as well. More people means a faster chance at finding that magestone.” He points at Grim next. “And he better be coming, too.”

“That’s the plan. I’ll make sure he won’t cause any problems for you.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Today’s just not my day. What bad luck…”

“No time to sulk. We’ve gotta get that magestone,” the other says, turning towards the mirror. “Dark Mirror, the Dwarfs’ Mine!”

Grim jerks awake then. “Myaah?! Where am I? What’s goin’ on?”

You hold onto him tightly, preventing him from squirming out of your arms. “Relax. You’ll be fine. I think.”

“What d’ya mean by that?!”

The Dark Mirror brightens with life. There’s a blinding flash of light and then, just like that, you’re taken to the mine’s entrance.

Magestone, here we come!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #marvelous marine magic: sweet sea sorceress #3M:3S #3M:3S chapter one

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copperbadge · 5 months

Note

You can pick one character to DM your next DnD campaign; Tony Stark, Dean Winchester, Dexter Morgan, or Ianto Jones?

You know I haven't done much table top roleplaying but from my understanding, what you want in a DM is a mix of organization, flexibility, creativity, and patience.

I think we can pretty much disqualify Dexter and Dean right off the bat because while they are patient and organized men in their chosen careers, I can't imagine they...enjoy D&D, and would have the patience to run a good campaign. I also think Dexter would probably not show up super well in the "flexibility" metric, and people who spend time around Dean Winchester tend to die horribly from demon.

I think Tony Stark probably does enjoy D&D and he is a very organized and creative person, but he's also on rails when it's not him doing the improvising -- I can see him concocting intricate, clockwork plotlines and getting frustrated when nobody quite follows the map. Possibly some form of hybrid D&D involving advanced math and physics would be functional for him if it was geniuses involved; I can see him and a couple of the other Super Brains in the Marvel universe having a running game that's 99% about whether they did the math correctly and 1% about showing their work. But for ordinary people like me, not so much.

That leaves Ianto Jones by process of elimination but I also think he'd be a genuinely good DM -- he's organized and prepared, we've seen him be extremely flexible on the fly (shut up, Jack) and we know he's fairly creative particularly (shut up, Jack) particularly when it comes to narrative -- like when we see him present himself to Jack as several different stereotypes when he's trying to get hired.

Mind you, none of them would be half as much fun DMing a game as Willow Rosenberg.

#fandom #dungeons and dragons

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iamasaddie · 4 months

Text

cracks

paring: Clint x f!reader warnings: no smut (sorry), ER; age gap (not specified), insecurities regarding aging word count: 700~ a/n: gonna be honest with you I mostly wrote it for me, but I'll be happy if you enjoy it too <3 i have an idea for another blurb (smutty) from this “universe” that i might post tonight or tomorrow masterlist

You knew he didn’t like looking in the mirror. Didn’t enjoy seeing his reflection on any surface, especially when you were near him. You had to beg him for a picture of you together, and if you wanted to capture just him you had to be sneaky enough so he wouldn’t notice.

You knew it was lines on his forehead, the scar beneath his left eye, the multiplying grays in his beard that he couldn’t stand. Everything that reminded him of how old he was, how deep the canyon of experience between you was. Every little thing you loved him for made him scowl and furrowed his brows.

It pained you, but you made sure to remind him how handsome he was, how safe and loved you felt in his big dry palms. He grunted in response. You would’ve been scared that he’d eventually leave you when his demons would win, but you knew the feelings you had for each other were too strong, an uncontrollable tide breaking every rational and irrational thought on its way.

He fell asleep with his head in your lap while you were watching one of the old westerns he loved so much. His soft hair tickling the naked skin of your thighs, his brows knitted together even as he was lightly snoring, indicating the depth of his dream. Your fingers raked through the soft curls and when the credits started rolling you realized that you have been looking at Clint for the last fifteen minutes, completely ignoring the climax of the story.

The man in your arms was a more interesting one anyway.

Your index finger lightly traced his face. You marveled at each crease and mark, mapping the years of laughter and hardship etched into his features. You felt valleys of his laugh lines hiding into the coarse beard that covered the lower half of his face in an uneven pattern you loved so much. With the softest press of your fingertip you grazed over the plumpness of his lips, and you smiled to yourself at the softness of the skin. Rough man that he was, Clint was kissing your chapstick covered lips often enough for it to take care of his own.

Gently, you scratched the almost white patch on the side of his face, the most prominent one he had. Sometimes when he noticed you staring at him - for no other reason but being completely and utterly in love with him - he would turn his head as if he wanted to hide the colorless spot.

Tears burned the edges of your eyes and you blinked them away before they could wet your cheeks. The love you felt for the man who was snoring peacefully almost tore you apart. You wished that he could genuinely believe in your affection. That you cherished the cracks and imperfections that made Clint real to you, the unique mosaic of a man who was only solvable to you, remaining a dark riddle for the rest of the world.

He stirred at your touch, his lips curving into a faint smile. His eyes fluttered open.

“What are you doing?” His voice was raspy with sleep, one eye squinting as the other focused on the outline of your form.

“Counting the reasons why I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” you whispered back, crouching to peck his lips, but missing and hitting his nose instead, making him chuckle.

“Got at least three?” His hand went up, cupping your jaw and he met your eyes. You could see the worry and uncertainty hiding behind the forced merriment of his voice. It made your heart ache, but you knew you had time to make him see through your eyes.

“Multiply it by infinity, and you’ll get my answer.” You saw the furrow of his brows disappear, like he was surprised to hear that, and you hurried to kiss him, smiling at his content moan.

check out my other fic from this universe CONTACTS (can be read as a continuation to this one)

#iamasaddie blurb #clint x f!reader #clint x reader #clint x you #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 8 months

Text

A (Partial, Hypothetical) Map of the

Arachno-Humanoid PolyMultiverse

[A slightly MEDIUM length post where I mapped out and explain the positions of the different universes we see in ATSV -

and how those distances can effect everything to travel time - to the reason why Miles got bitten (maybe..based on my charting and data)]

Did I use common grouping and graphing to make a connectivity map of the universes within the Arachno-Humanoid-PolyMultiverse based on common attributes and similarities?

Why no - I didn't. Lyla gave me this map this morning. So there. _______________________________________

You know what pisses me off? ATSV showing us amazing ass things and then not stopping to explain them at all. Lucky for them, I have autism, a keyboard, and way too much time. So allow me.

'This is Everything': Okay but what is it?

The Spider-verse series is like an expert at going 'this is super interesting but i also I refuse to explain'

But one thing I've always found this SUPER interesting - The Portals. Because LOOK AT THEM. Like... the watch is creating a channel along a set path! It has velocity! How fast are they going? How far?!!

In lots of other Marvel movies like Doctor Strange, teleportation between universes is instantaneous. This is true for a lot of sci-fi.

However, for Spider-verse, they chose something different.

We see them flying and falling through portals, many of them twisting and turning. And it got me thinking -

If they're flying from point A to point B - Doesn't that imply that the universes have set locations - with measurable, varying distance between them?

And if so - how close are they together? Does it always take the same amount of time? Are some too far to get to without jumping to a closer location first?

So many possibilities! I was so curious to make sense of this. How does the watch KNOW where to go? Where every universe is?

The Solution:

I realized that each universe has similarities - and if similarity = proximity, there could be a way to map the universes by asking three simple questions:

Are they in the modern era? Are they in New York - or something like it? Are they stylized?

And what I got was a map that actually explains some very interesting things in the movie! (If you play by my logic, lol)

Graph Breakdown : How to read

[Explainer and breakdown below the cut PLUS a clearer version - so you can map out your sona!]

The graph is made up of two different points - Cluster Centers & Universes:

The Three Clusters: Location, Time, & Style

Cluster Centers are specific attributes that universes share, and these attributes clump similar universes together, shortening the distance between them.

There are 3 cluster centers, based on the three questions:

The Time Desynchronization Cluster: For universes that exist outside of the modern era The Stylization Cluster: For universes with artistic stylization The New York Cluster: For universes in which the Spider-person is based in New York, or a rendition of it.

These clusters are arranged in a triangle with sides of equal length.

Then, a universe is placed on the map based on whether they fit the criteria and how much they fit the criteria.

How much they fit each criteria determines each universe's proximity to each other, and the pathways the watches will take to get from location to location as quick as possible.

For example:

Plotting Universes: Distances & Changes

Using these three Clusters, we can plot almost any Spider-person or Spidersona on the map!

Universes that share attributes and clusters are closer together, shortening the distance and time it takes to complete jumps.

In addition, universes with lots of cluster connections and nearby universes are considered more stable, the strands of the web closer together, and quicker in general.

And just for reference:

The places in which the universes' lines cross are common canon events they share.

Looking at the plotted Universes, we can see some cool things about how they work:

[My lovely OC's, DiscoSpider Diane and Inca-Spider Moche plotted as examples]

The proximity matters in context too! And it seems to effect a lot of things - like observably in the movie.

The closeness of two universes, can possibly explain the time it takes to get there, why some people fall into other universes, and how easy it is to assimilate into another's universe.

Some cool things to note:

Gwen and Miles' universes are next to each other. Which could explain how she fell into his world. Gwen is way more stylized than Miles, so she's closer to that Cluster than he is.

Peter's universe (not charted..lol) would be next to Miles' & Pavitrs - which also explains his involvement in ITSV.

Noir, Spider-Ham, and Peni Parker would all be close-by as well.

Miles and Pavi's universes are next to each other. Miles & Pavi share all three attributes. Because of this, Miles and Pavi's universes are right next to each other. Which could be why Gwen & Miles' jump to Mumbattan is very short and quick.

Pavi's universe is next to HQ. Pavi is modern, low-stylization, and based in a New York adjacent city. This is true for Miguel too, however, he's in 2099, desynchronized from time. Them being right next to each other could explain how so many members of the Spider Society arrived to Mumbattan quickly to contain the anomaly - as all they would need to do is traverse the time difference.

The stylized characters are charted 'most stylized' to least - left to right, based on medium/inspo: Gwen being first (watercolor), then Hobie (collages of prints, text, and real people), and then Noir (completely shaded with no color, but based off of live-action films), then Patrick a.k.a Webslinger (based on live-action Westerns).

Because of this layout, Hobie's universe borders Gwen's. This could explain how Gwen stayed at his place without being noticed for her differing style (which - as we see with Miles and Spider-Ham, would be obvious). But Gwen universe being nearby, could be why she didn't stand out too much.

Hobie's universe borders Noir's. This is very cute. I love them. Happy feelings.

Noir's universe borders Diane's. Because they both live in New York, and are desynchronized from time (Noir being 1933, and Diane 1982) - Noir and Diane's universe sit next to each other. This makes a lot of sense - Noir's world is perpetually white and black - literally 'noir', while Diane's world lacks a day-cycle, making it always night-time.

Because they share these attributes with Miguel as well - Nueva York, 2099 - Noir and Diane actually live 'closest' to campus, along with Pavitr third.

Despite both being O'hara's, Patrick's universe is REALLY far from Miguel's. This is because WebSlinger's universe is time desynchronized in the opposite direction, very far in the past. He's also stylized - and he lives in the Wild West, not New York. Hence the distance.

As is Moche's - Miguel's wife. Like Miguel, Moche lives in a time desynchronized universe (his 2099, hers 1992) - however Moche is from Peru, hence why her and Patrick are the farthest from the New York Cluster. Moche's world is stylized as photorealistic, moreso than Miles, so she's the farthest from that cluster as well.

Miles' and Wiles' universes would be almost directly next to each other - which explains the spider-bite and the fact Miles' DNA changed so easily. Not all variants are next to each other though - Hobie's 616 Prowler variant is actually pretty far from his.

Uhhh...yeah, I think that's everything. But mind you - that's only a two dimensional slice of THIS

Hopefully I was able to decode like 0.0001% of it.

This is all speculation and my imagination, But what came out of it is INTERESTING AS HELL TO ME. Writers...pleasee...feed me more random stills in which I can consume.

Also Miguel if you're reading this please hire me I have a degree in Archnohumanoid Poly-Multiversal Research that's good for nothing and I desperately need a job-

________________________________

I hope you liked this and this made sense! It was just a fun little experiment to do that turned out to be REALLY interesting to chart out/decipher.

Lemme know what you think about how it all works and stuff and what you think of this!

If you made it this far! Thank you so much!! SERIOUSLY THANK YOU

Here's a copy of the map with smaller universes, so you can slot in your own sonas! Plus, a pic of Hobie for your troubles.

His eyes are so pretty. Can you believe he's in love with my Spidersona thats crazzzyy

Bye.

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the-shiftshop · 1 year

Text

Changes Happen All The Time. You're Just Aren't Aware Of It

"Here's a long transformation story to keep up with my debt." - Uncle Lee

Finally, graduation. Ron and Paul had finally finished college and it was time for the childhood friends to come back to their home town. The two were unseparable every since childhood. Until they were college, they both went to the same university, taking the same course, living in the same dorm room.

On this day, it's was time to bring all their stuff back home. Paul is already done with his, with Ron driving him back and forth, so this time, it was Paul's time to help Ron bring all his stuff back.

"Eyes on the road, man. I swear you're going off the road" Paul tapped his buddy as he continue fidgeting with his phone.

Paul is your averarage college senior. Although wanting to build muscles, his studies get in the way, making him stay on an average build. Not too skinny, yet not that fat. Although his studies matter so much, he never backs down from adventures especially when it's with Ron.

"Yeah, well. We're basically in a deserted area. No cars, no buildings, and frankly, I don't think I'll hit something either way." Ron argued, still listening to Paul and makes sure the van is on he right lane.

Ron on the other hand can be mistaken for a stereotypical jock bro if only he's not known for being one of the top notchers in the university, and also maybe because of his rectangular glasses. He is lean with muscle and he lives showing off both his brain and brawn. He has an average amount of body hair on his face, chest, arms, and legs, which most of the time were kept trimmed.

Both had been long good friend despite differences especially with preferences. A very inseparable pair.

"I'm honestly kinda thirsty. Think we can find some place to buy drinks around here?" Ron followed, eyeing for any buildings in the horizon.

"I bet not." Paul answered. "I can find you some water from the back if you want."

"Naw.. We already drank them all. Thought we only had two of our own bottles." Ron replied.

"Alright, let's see..." Paul went to his map app and scanned for any shop the map app, and sure enough one suddenly appeared.

Paul could've sworn that wasn't there before, but eh, it's probably just because we didn't zoom in enough.

"Here's one, just a few more kilometers away." Paul showed Ron.

Ron drove to the location of the said shop and lo and behold, there was one shop just along the road in the middle of nowhere.

They parked on the edge of the road in front of the shop, turned the van off and went out together. As Paul checked the condition of their van, Ron walked near the store.

"Hey, I'll go ask for some water. You can wait for me out here" Paul said.

"Yeah, sure. I'll just check if we're still good here." Ron replied, tapping on the van's hot wheels.

As Paul walked near the shop, he started to feel all tingly and weird. As if he's entering a separate dimension of some sort through a force field. A large sign is placed just above the wooden door.

"The Shift Shop" Paul read.

Without anymore hesitation, Paul proceeds and marvelled at the view of the inside.

Through he wooden door, it wasn't like anything from the outside. It felt like one of the shops you see in your favorite fantasy movies. There were areas with sparkling contraptions, a flying phoenix roaming the store, small fireworks exploding in different colors, it all looked magical.

Paul closed the door and proceeded deeper. It may seem magical, but there were shelves displaying products as if it's Walmart. Paul saw food, hygiene products, electronics, dairy, snacks, and anything you may imagine. There was even an area for clothes and accessories. Paul was too much in awe that he forgot what he came in for.

Soon, he reached the counter. A bell on top of it rang automatically to acknowledge his presence and to notify the owner that a visitor had come by, almost too automatic to look like it has a life of its own.

"Just a moment!" Paul heard a deep voice coming from behind the curtain across the other side of the counter, although he swear the voice spoke of a different language, probably Korean, yet somehow he understood it automatically.

The bell rang again, rushing the man to come out as soon as possible. "Told you, Bell, to wait for a moment! I'm... you know what nevermind." The man spoke again and Paul confirmed it was Korean, yet he understood.

The man finally walked out of the curtain, and Paul gasped at the fair skinned Asian hunk wearing a thick-framed glasses. He was topless with a messy wet hair, wearing only a long beige dress pants, buckled with a black belt.

"Apologies, but my bell is always so eager to have me come and greet my visitors. I just finished taking a bath and, yeah I guess it's evident." The man spoke, this time in English. As he finish speaking, he wears the white plain shirt he was holding, "Welcome to the Shift Shop. I'm guessing this is your first time?"

"Y-Yeah. It's honestly... amazing here." Paul managed to mutter.

"Thanks, that's centuries of good work." The man chuckled, "I'm the owner of the shop, Timotheo Lee, or you can just call me Uncle Lee."

"Uncle?" Paul chuckled. The man does not look like he's old enough to be his uncle, nor be anyone's uncle anyway. He seem to be just around 25, and those youthful muscle and smooth skin did all the talking. "Is that a pen name or something?"

"Oh, I'm not kidding about the century thing. I'm older than what you think." Uncle Lee smirked.

"Really?" Paul didn't bother lengthening the discussion about his age. The shop itself already seemed so unreal. The man could even be a older than how many centuries he guess. Instead, his eyes roamed around the room.

Uncle Lee chuckled once more and moved closer to her customer. "Seems like you're looking for something, I mean you proceeded deeper into my shop. You're thirsty for something magical, aren't you?"

Paul laughed. "I'm honestly just 'thirsty' thirsty" He replied, "But something magical doesn't seem like a bad idea."

Uncle Lee tapped on his bell "Jules!" He called out and suddenly a short nerdy suited up staff appeared from thin air.

"S-Sir!" Jules replied, stuttering.

"Guide our new visitor to some areas he might fancy" Uncle Lee winked at Jules.

Jules seemed to almost melt just by his boss's wink. He made a soft 'aww' right after the man did so. "Y-Yes, sir!" Jules gave a salute and invited Paul to some part of the shop.

---

Paul had roamed around longer than he expected. He tried a bunch of testers and witnessed different kinds of magic while in the store, all of which Jules let Paul try on him.

There were fruits that turn people older or younger. There were gadgets that help you fulfil your wishes. There were literally a lot to see, but soon enough Paul stopped by a certain product that catched his eyes.

"A jade necklace?" Paul asked.

"Oh, not just any jade necklace" Jules said in a deep rumbling voice. Throughout all the testing, Jules ended up with a body of a 40 year old body builder with dog ears and tails that matches his white hair. "It's the Necklace of Names."

"Necklace of Names?" Paul repeated.

"Necklace of Names" Jules repeated back. "It's supposed to make the wearer able to change whoever he calls in a different name, and the other person will never know the changes!" Jules exclaimed. "Let's have this for an example: I'm wearing the necklace and I called you by any name aside from your actual name, for instance, I called you 'gramps'. You'll turn into a grandpa version of yourself!" Jules explained. "Or if I call you by a name of a famous actor, or someone I know, that'll automatically change you to that person. It's honestly best if you an try it yourself."

Jules takes the necklace and brought it to Paul's hand.

"And the person I change won't notice a thing?" Paul asked for confirmation while looking at the green pendant the necklace has.

"They certainly wont and their mind and personality will also adapt," Jules answered. "And in most cases, reality also adjusts, but you still have to be careful".

"If it's magic, bet it has some sort of consequences once I started using this, no? I mean just like in the movies" Paul asked

Jules nodded "Exactly." He said, "But if you wanna try it on just like what you did to the other products, don't worry, we had the consequence feature turned off when it's just for testing. But for this specific bad boy..." Jules tapped on he necklace. "I honestly don't think you'll consider it a consequence. Bet you'll even like it. I can tell you what it is unless you like surprises."

"Surprises, huh." Paul looked at the necklce and back to Jules "Yeah, I'm up for surprises. I'll figure it out on my own"

"Great! So a keeper?" Jules smiled.

"A keeper."

Paul was convinced already and didn't even have to try it on Jules. They walked back to the counter and paid.

"Mhmm. The Necklace of Names." Uncle Lee sang. "You have a great taste." He looked at me and back at the necklace. "That would be a dollar."

A dollar? That's so cheap for this quality and he expected more. Paul brought his wallet from his pocket and pulled out 2 dollars and placed it on the counter.

"This shouldn't be just a dollar. It even looks expensive." Paul remarked.

"Oh, Paul. It's alright. It really is just a dollar." Uncle Lee nodded and adjusted his glasses. "This shop does not really run from profit. This exchange is merely just like signing a contract by barter." He continued. "I prefer to know you're enjoying the magic than earning money from the magic."

Paul stared at Uncle Lee and his eyes lit it.

"And you know, I choose my customers well. I know you'll do great with our items." Paul smiled.

"Thank you." Paul smiled by the compliment. He's starting to understand why Jules reacts all shy around him.

"Anyways, I'll keep the other dollar. You best be on your way to your trip, and you, Jules..." Uncle Lee trailed off, looking at the silver fox hunk Jules had turned into. "Let's come to the back. I have to do something with that thick ass of yours" He winked at Jules and then waved goodbye to Paul. "Take care, Paul."

---

Paul left the store with a smile. He really had paid for the necklace with just a dollar. He decided to put it on and walked back to the van.

There was Ron, now holding 2 big bottles of water he got somewhere.

"Dude, where did you go? What took you so long?" Ron has his eyebrow furrowed, all while taking a drink from his water.

"Ah! Right. I forgot to buy-"

"Already did that, man. I was looking for you inside the store and you weren't there. Where did you go?" Ron asked again.

"I was inside the sh-" Paul turned back to look at the shop, but gasped at what he saw.

The shop was different now. Gone with the big signage and the wooden door. It turned into a regular off-the-road convenience store. Paul kept his mouth shut and looked back to Ron.

"Let's get back on the road. It's getting dark." Ron commanded and they both went back in the van.

---

It has been a few minutes and they've finally reached a populated area, and Paul still couldn't stop thinking about what happened. It was obviously not any hallucination since the necklace he bought is still hanging on his neck. Nevertheless, he'd want to try the necklace out, but to whom?

"You're unusually quiet. What's up?" Ron snapped Paul back to reality. "We passed by a lot of interesting sights earlier and you didn't even reacted like how you would."

"Nothing. Just thinking." Paul excused.

"Whatever it is, I ain't the type to just let my buddy stay silent throughout the drive. Whatchu wanna do?" Ron asked.

"Nothing, really." Paul replied, "Don't worry about it."

"Naww. C'mon." Ron then chuckled. "You know I'm not that type to pretend like I ain't seeing you're out of your usual mood."

It's really hard for Ron to endure that, and as much as he can, he tends to joke around just to make Paul laugh. And as for Paul, those damn words. It always was what reminds him of things he can never let go.

Paul always had a big crush on his childhood friend. Although he never had trully opened up to Ron about it because of the fear of losing his friend. Because of that, he always had to push those thoughts away to preserve their friendship, yet it's really hard when your friend is all affectionate like this.

"You wanna jerk off?" Ron smirked.

"What? No! Where did that come from?" Paul jumped from his seat. His heart beating too fast.

"Come on~ My bestfriend just needs a little bit of release~" Ron teased. He was joking. Paul knows that. It always had been a joke. "I'll stroke that dick if I were you. It's just the two of us anyway."

"Oh, shut up, Ron!" Paul laughed.

"What? If you don't want to, I'll stroke it for you." Ron giggled, jokingly placing a hand on Paul's thigh, immitating some stereotypical dumb jock asking for some bro time with his buddy.

"Stop that, you horny dumb jock-" Paul eye's widened as he finish his sentence. He snapped his head back to Ron as Ron suddenly groaned.

The van started to slow down until they stopped on the side of the road. Paul's eyes widened as he realized what he had just done. Ron was changing. The necklace was doing its job.

"U-Urgh..." Ron groaned as he stretched his body, his hand still on Paul's thigh, which was now massaging it. "Fuck, bro..."

Bro. Ron was turning into a "Horny Dumb Jock" he just called him.

Ron's muscles started to morph itself, changing his build in one way or another. His body hair started to disappear to look like they're cleanly shaven away. Tattoos apeared around his body, and he can feel it. The muted pain of tattoo needles crawled around his body, but it wasn't really that painful to him. It was pleasurable. Ron started to move his other hand around his body, feeling every skin. Pinching his nipple through his t-shirt, then feeling his abs inside, then moving it to paw his growing hard on. All the while his other had was roaming around Paul's thigh. Ron's clothes started to change. His shirt darkened and shifted to a tanktop, loose enough to show his chest. His glasses disappeared, and a cap formed on his head. His eyebrows furrowed harder as his old memories gets replaced by new ones. He's a horny dumb jock. He spend all his day fucking, masturbating, and jocking out. All the knowledge of a top notcher disappeared. His memories with Paul did not disappear, though some parts like their dynamics, their hobbies together, changed. Soon enough, Ron finished changing, physically and mentally.

"Fuck, bro. I really..." The newly jockified Ron groaned. "I really need to bust one out. I..."

Paul was left speechless. He did it. He accidentally used the necklace on Ron. He doesn't know how to feel about this, but there he stared at his childhood friend-slash-crush.

Ron moved his hand back to his crotch, pawing at his hard on that seemed to have grown than its original size. His other hand, still on Paul's thigh, squeeze it.

Paul was turned on and don't know why. He noticed his cock also hard in his pants, and Ron, squeezing his thigh, is making it more arousing.

"I need to... urgh.... jerk off." Ron grunted, like it is very urgent for him to release. "C-Can I?" Ron looked at Paul.

They stared at each other. Paul felt his heart beat faster than ever. At some point Paul wants to join Ron, but he's trying all his best not to.

"R-Ron...nnie" Paul tried to call on Ron, but for some reason, he called him Ronnie. He never called him that, but it seems automatic.

It was the necklace's work. Each change also gives the other person a new name. This is to have it easy for the owner to turn the other person back to their original body. And for this instance, Ron had just turned into a horny jock named Ronnie.

"Y-Yeah, go on. I-I don't mind, R-Ronnie." Paul stuttered.

"Yeah... No homo, bro, alright?" Ronnie said while pulling down on his shorts, revealing his hard cock. "Fuck..."

Paul stared at Ronnie as he jerked off. Ronnie still carressing Paul's thigh as he do so. "Yeah... No homo..." Paul repeated, staring at Ronnie's cock.

It was his first time seeing Ronnie's cock after years. Although it seems like this version of Ron has a bigger dick than the original.

The van was filled with loud sensual moans. Paul watched Ronnie's pecs bounce as he stroke his cock. Ronnie looks so hot when his face contort everytime he finds his own pleasure spots. Soon enough, Ronnie was near.

"F-Fuck, bro. I'm gonna-" Ronnie stroke faster, and he gripped harder on Paul's thigh. "I'm gonna cum!"

Ronnie came loads of cum all over his shirt, some of them landing on his cap, almost making a big mess on his van.

"O-Oh... Shit.... That feels sooo good." Ronnie limps down, taking deep breaths as he chuckle and looked back to Paul. Ronnie removed his shirt and used it to wipe all his cum off his body and his cap, and Paul had a good look on his hunky body. Ronnie noticed and smirked.

"You seem like you're hard too, bro." Ronnie eyed Paul's cock, which Paul hid on cue. "Naw, bro. You know we can be this comfortable to each other." Ronnie smiled at him. "Want me to help you out?" He asked, moving one hand back to his knee, moving up to his thigh

Paul's eyes widened. "N-No. I'm alright, Ronnie."

"You sure? You can always say No Homo anyway?" Ronnie's face gave a mild frown. "I told you if anything to make my bro happy, I'll do it."

"I-It's fine."

"Aight, suit yourself."

And they continued their drive with Ronnie, shirtless, and Paul's cock, hard.

---

The rest of the drive gave Paul the opportunity to experiment on his friend. In the last 30 minutes, Paul decided to experiment more. Ron had turned into a dad, a freshman, a foreigner, and other stuff Paul managed to trigger as they converse. Satisfied and almost near their destination, Paul reverted Ron back to his original body just by calling him again in his real nickname "Ron".

Upon arriving at Ron's house, Paul could've sworn Ron had been stealing glances from him more than usual. While they we're fixing stuff, it's often for Paul to find out Ron is lost in deep thoughts. He had caught Ron staring at him, sometimes adjusting the collar of his shirt, and even his underwear.

By sunset, they are almost finished putting everything in place in Ron's room. Both Paul and Ron were left sweaty due to carrying a bunch of stuff from the van to the house.

"I gotta take a quick break." Ron said as he took his shirt off and dropped them on the side. "Could you bring the last box in?" Ron asked Paul as he sat on the chair.

"Yes, sir" Paul answered.

"Damn, that could be another trigger. " He tought to himself.

What he called him as a little vague. Ron could turn either a very well respected dad, or his professor, or someone that can dominate him in bed. As he looked back to where Ron was sitting, there he saw the new man.

Before the new Ron could speak, Paul's eyes widened and hurried himself out the room and grabbed the last remaining box. His friend, his crush, turned into one heck of a dreamboat.

Reaching the living room, Paul came to he box. It was a big box that should be carried by two people, but Paul managed to carry it himself. Although struggling, he carried it to the room.

It was hard for Paul to carry the box in while walking forward, so Paul had to turn his back and walk backwards into the door frame.

"Excuse me, this thing's heav-" Paul exclaimed as he struggled.

"Wait, lemme take care of-"

The new Ron said in a soft deep voice as he rushed to Paul's aid, but before he managed to do so, Paul tripped.

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed and ran to catch Paul, only to fall too and both of them and the box on the floor, Paul lying on top of Ron.

"You okay, kid?" Ron asked, holding onto Paul.

"Sorry, sir." Paul replied.

Paul felt something on his back, growing hard. He heard Ron clear his throat, and so he looked up to see Paul, blushing.

"S-Sir, I can feel your..."

"S-Sorry!" Ron pushed Paul off his body and slid up to sit. "I-I..."

Paul sat down to face Ron. He can see Ron's huge cock straining against his gray shorts, just enough for Paul to get hard himself too. They stared at each other's cocks then to each other's eyes. Then in one quick movement, they were kissing.

Paul broke the kiss, shying away from his indirect confession. "F-Fuck. I'm sorry." He said. "That was very impulsive."

"It's alright." Ron said, still looking at Paul's eyes. He smiled and grabbed Paul's hand and guided it to his chest.

"S-Sir..." Paul's eyes widened.

"It's fine, Paul. I want this too."

Paul melted as Ron spoke in his deep sensual voice. It was a very reassuring but sexy baritone voice coming out from the mouth of this sexy hunk his friend had turned into

"Can I?" Ron motioned to move closer.

Paul nodded and welcomed Ron. Ron slided closer to Paul and started feeling his body s he kiss him on the neck. Paul shivered as Ron finds every pleasure spots in his body. Ron took Paul's shirt off and kissed his chest, coming to a nipple. All the effort of hiding how he liked his bestfriend broke down. It was just he and him enjoying the moment.

"A-Ah!" Paul moaned. "That feels so good."

"You like that?" Ron's eyes gleamed as he ask.

"Yes, sir." Paul nodded, putting both of his hands on Ron's face.

"Call me, Russel. Paul." He requested. "I'm not your teacher anymore"

Russel. That's Ron's name in this body of a hunk. So happened that he is his professor. Former, actually. Russel was doing a great job in making Paul feel good. Both of their cocks are basically stone hard and Paul had been wanting release even before they arrived to Russel's home. Russel pulled Paul's shorts off and marveled at the cock in front of his face.

"Wow, you have a big cock..." Russel said which made Paul chuckle.

"You think? Yours is even bigger." Paul stroked Russel's cock through his shorts and made him groan.

Russel took his shorts off too, finally letting Paul see this thick hairy cock. Paul grabbed on Russel's balls and played with it before stroking his cock again.

Russel moved closer to Paul's cock. "Can I...?" Russel asked.

"Please." Paul pulled Russel's head to his cock.

Russel went straight in, sucking Paul with all his might. The room once again was filled with mostly Paul's moans. His former childhood friend, now a hunky former professor is sucking his cock so eagerly. He's almost near and he's practically begging for release.

"Sir... Russel, I'm gonna."

"Not yet." Russel stood up and carried Paul onto the bed, sitting.

Paul expected that they'll fuck. He stared at Russel's thick hard cock and shivered at the thought of how painful can it be to have that in his ass.

"W-Wait. I can't take you. You're too big!" Paul pushed on Russel.

"Who said you're the one who's gonna be fucked? Russel grinned.

Paul's eyes once again widened as Russel climed onto his cock and sat on it. Without any hesitation, Russel pushed his ass down to Paul's cock.

"A...urgh!" Both of then groaning in pleasure

"You feel so good..." Russel whimpered.

"Y-You're so tight!" Paul moaned.

Russel groaned louder as Paul pushed and hat hit his prostate. "A-Ah! Sh..." Russel then moved, riding on Paul's cock.

It was too much to handle for Paul. The hunky professor is riding his cock. He's fucking a hunk. He then motioned to kiss Russel once more as they move. Paul holds onto Russel's cock as he strokes him. Paul lied down and Russel followed. He brought his feet onto he bed and started humping Russel himself.

"I-I'm close!" Russel exclaimed.

"Y-Yeah?" Paul smirked.

"Ah... Ah! I'm gonna cum!" Russel moaned hard.

"Cum for me, Russel!"

Soon, Russel came all his load onto Paul. Some hitting his face. Paul didn't stop thrusting his cock in Russel. He went faster and soon...

"I... I'm gonna cum too..." Paul said.

Russel moved and licked Paul's nipple, driving Paul insane.

"Y-Yeah! More! I'm gonna cum!"

Paul moaned and finally, he released into Russel's ass. They moved for one more kiss, and once they broke, they chuckled at each other.

Paul pulled out. Both panting and grasping for air.

"So..." Paul trailed off

"So...?" Russel followed

Paul paused or a moment. The power he got from the Necklace of Names was great. It seemed like he almost live in every fantasy he can think of, but then again, what about his friend Ron?

He looked at Russel. This was Russel, his former professor in this new reality. He may have been his friend a moment ago, but it was all Russel who made a move on him.

It was Ron who he liked, not the dumb horny jock, Ronnie, and most certainly despite being a fantasy-brought-to-life, not this hunky professor, Russel. Paul got lost in that thought. What could even happen if he revert Ron back?

"Uhm... Wanna take a shower with me?" Russel asked, bringing his hand to Paul.

"Yeah, sure."

---

They proceeded to the shower. Russel went in first, testing the temperature, then offering his hand to Paul to guide him in. Russel washed off the cum on of their bodies, then he opened up for a big warm bear hug.

Paul stuck his face in between Russel's chests, still thinking about earlier. Trying to muster up his courage, he asked.

"Do you like me?"

Russel cleared his throat. "Well... I hope it wouldn't be weird to tell you I like you since I am your professor, no? Well... Former."

"No, I meant..." Paul stopped for a moment, then looked up to Russel's eyes, trying all his best to look for Ron in this deep brown eyes. "Do you like me, Ron?"

Russel began to shrink back down. His muscles lessening and his age going back to 22. He's back to Ron, just the regular old Ron.

"I.... I like you, Paul. I really do." Ron's cheeks flushed red, still hugging his friend. "I mean... I always had this feelings for so long... I just didn't think..."

"I like you back?" Paul continued. "I also had this for a very long time too..."

They smiled.

"Ron." Paul called out once again. "I don't know how to phrase this properly, but..."

In his mind, he had kissed Russel, but that was not trully Ron, it was just right to ask one more time, right?

"Can I kiss you?" Paul reached up to Ron's cheeks.

Ron didn't hesitate. He smiled and brought Paul into his lips.

Yet another round for Paul, but it's real this time.

#body modification #shapeshift #reality change

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chthonic-cassandra · 1 month

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The marvels and prodigies, the seven-league boots and enchanted mirrors, the talking animals [...] the stars on the brow of the good sister and the donkeytail sprouting on the brow of the bad - all the wonders that create the atmosphere of the fairy tale disrupt the apprehensible world in order to open spaces for dreaming alternatives. The verb 'to wonder' communicates the receptive state of marvelling as well as the active desire to know, to inquire, and as such it defines very well at least two characteristics of the traditional fairy tale: pleasure in the fantastic, curiosity about the real. The dimension of wonder creates a huge theatre of possibility in the futures: anything can happen. This very boundlessness serves the moral purpose of the tales, which is precisely to teach where boundaries lie. The dreaming gives pleasure in its own right, but it also represents a practical dimension to the imagination, an aspect of the faculty of thought, and can unlock social and public possibilities. [...] The enchantments also universalize the narrative setting, encipher concerns, beliefs and desires in brilliant, seductive images that are themselves a form of camouflage, making it possible to utter hard truths, to say what you dare. The disregard for logic, all those fairy tale non-sequiturs and improbable reversals, rarely encompasses the emotional conflicts themselves: hatred, jealousy, kindness, cherishing retain an intense integrity throughout. The double vision of the tales, on the one hand charting perennial drives and terrors, both conscious and unconscious, and on the other mapping actual, volatile experience, gives the genre its fascination and power to satisfy. At the same time, uncovering the context of the tales, their relation to society and history, can yield more of a happy resolution than the story itself delivers with its challenge to fate: 'They lived happily ever after' consoles us, but gives scant help compared to, 'Listen, this is how it was before, but this could change - and they might.'

Marina Warner, From the Beast to the Blonde: On Fairy Tales and Their Tellers

#I am rereading this book for the first time in many many years #after nearly memorizing it during a certain period in my life #and I love marina Warner very much #marina warner #fairy tales #criticism

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simpliciaty-cc · 2 years

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AVA OVERSIZED HOODIE

💥 An oversized hoodie with 70 graphic designs! Comes in two variations: a dress version where you can wear it as a full outfit & a top version where you can wear it with some pants (won't work with all unfortunately!) 💥

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#s4 #ts4 #ts4cc #s4cc #sims #sims4 #sims 4 #simpliciaty #ava #oversized #hoodie

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sasheneskywalker · 1 month

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dc/marvel crossover fic recs

Dark Matter by mysterycyclone The last thing Peter sees is Tony's horrified, heartbroken expression leaning over him. The guilt in his eyes is almost worse than the burning pain that's taking Peter apart piece by piece. The world starts to go dark.

There's a flash of gold and green. For one moment, he finds himself standing amongst the Guardians and others. And then darkness again. It feels like blinking; an extended period of nothingness that ends as abruptly as it begins. One moment there’s nothing, the next there’s light.

“Easy,” a woman says. Her words are gentle, and carry a slight accent that he can’t place. "I'm called Wonder Woman. What's your name?"

Not Rated | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Clark Kent & Peter Parker, Diana (Wonder Woman) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Peter Parker, Gotham City & Peter Parker, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Batman & Spiderman

Revenge is a Word I Haven't Yet Defined (I’m not sure I’m worthy of such theatrics) by OliOcelot After the Lazarus Pits and a year of training with the League, Talia sends Jason to Gotham for revenge. Except Jason isn’t as deep as she thinks. The thing is, he expected to see Bruce - Batman - and be livid. He let him die, replaced him. He should be mad.

He isn’t.

In the end, it’s hard to think of yourself as being replaced when you died. So yeah, he’s angry, but he’s not angry enough for revenge. Not like Talia wants him to be.

So he focuses on Red Hood and cleaning up Crime Alley, and scraps any ideas of revenge he had left. They’re unnecessary. Counterproductive, in fact, because now that he’s actually seen Bruce, all he really wants is to go home. Maybe have a conversation or two about how bad Bruce and Dick messed up, but at home.

Instead, he gets caught up in world altering magic from some criminal in over his head, and Jason finds himself tumbling through universes into a New York filled with heroes that he’s never even heard of and a lack of Gotham and Metropolis that can only mean one thing. This isn’t the world he knows.

All he wants is to get home, to make amends, to try again. Too bad none of them know he’s gone. Not that anyone would think to look for a dead boy.

T | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Batfamily Members & Jason Todd, Peter Parker & Jason Todd, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

To Dig a Grave in Winter by OliOcelot The Winter Soldier isn’t the only Asset that Hydra has. This will be their downfall.

Or, Jason Todd rose from his grave only to be taken by Hydra and turned into a living weapon, known as the Gravewalker. Meeting the Winter Soldier might just make it worth it.

T | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply | James Bucky Barnes (Marvel) & Jason Todd (DCU), James Bucky Barnes (Marvel)/Jason Todd (DCU)

in labyrinths of reflections by blackkat With the incursions imminent, Khonshu steals his avatar away to another dimension, where there's little risk of the universes colliding.

Marc is unprepared for Gotham, but it's probably safe to say that Gotham is equally unprepared for Marc.

M | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Bruce Wayne/Marc Spector, Marc Spector & Jason Todd, Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Marc Spector & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne/Steven Grant

no map to my own treasure by blackkat “I think this is yours.”

Bruce doesn’t even have to look up. He already knows precisely what this is about. Containing a sigh, he rubs the bridge of his nose, and says, “If he bit you, I can pay for the emergency room visit—”

“I did not bite him,” Damian says, outraged.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Marc Spector/Bruce Wayne

Knaves All Three by Ginevra_Benci After Ultron, Avengers Tower hosts a good-will gala to fundraise for post-Incident NYC.

Local lawyers Nelson & Murdock, fresh from saving Hell's Kitchen from the ravages of Wilson Fisk, get an invite.

And.

Bruce Wayne’s in town.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tony Stark & Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Bruce Wayne, Steve Rogers/Bruce Wayne, Matt Murdock & Foggy Nelson

The Spider and the Samovar by Ginevra_Benci There's a new player in Eastern Europe: the Spider has been making a name for himself and has caught the attention of the Outlaws.

Jason Todd makes contact.

Well. He tries to.

G | No Archive Warnings Apply | Roy Harper & Koriand'r & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Natasha Romanoff

Bats Out of Hell by Jedi_Olympian Dick and Tim find themselves in a bit of trouble. Multiversal trouble. Needless to say, their boyfriends are not happy about it, and the universe they find themselves in is unlike any they've found themselves in before.

Or Dick and Tim get thrown into the MCU and meet the Avengers.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

If It's A Highway by there_must_be_a_lock Bucky’s been running for a week when the supposedly-untraceable burner phone he stole from a HYDRA warehouse starts ringing. He’s in a gas station bathroom off a remote highway close to the Croatian border, getting ready to bleach his hair; the ringtone bounces shrilly off the bare tiles and makes his jaw clench tight.

[Or: the one where Bucky is hired to train Jason, and he ends up learning a thing or two himself.]

E | No Archive Warnings Apply | James "Bucky" Barnes/Jason Todd

There but for Grace go I by AutumnHobbit Frank Castle comes to Gotham on the trail of some human traffickers who picked the wrong city. Imagine his surprise to find he isn’t the only one out for their blood. When things turn sour he decides to get involved, which leads to a lot of unexpected drama.

And he thought New York’s costumed paraders were bad.

Not Rated | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne & Frank Castle, Dick Grayson & Frank Castle, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Frank Castle

The Five Stages of Neighborly Affection by AlannaLioness, phonecallfromgod, youshallnotfinditso Between Matt being back from the dead, Nelson & Murdock 2.0 and a fancy Manhattan apartment from his (former) sharky boss, Foggy feels like he's doing pretty well keeping the vigilante nonsense in his life to a minimum.

Or he was until he moved next door to Tim Drake.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake (Minor), Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent (Minor), Minor or Background Relationship(s)

running in the shadows by dukeaubergine Jack Drake dies during one of Tony Stark's "taking responsibility" phases. The Bats aren't happy about this.

Tim is pushing to come home, and in the meantime be an NYC vigilante right under Stark's nose, when the Sokovia Accords knock over the whole board.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Batfamily Members & Tim Drake, Avengers Team & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Tony Stark, Tim Drake & Wanda Maximoff

Shake the Devil Out of Me by thepartyresponsible The first time Jason sees Phil Coulson, he sees him in the soft, flickering light of a warehouse fire. It’s romantic, he thinks, later. Like candlelight.

E | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Phil Coulson/Jason Todd

The Dawn Will Break Before You by thepartyresponsible “Okay, heartbreaker,” he says, “how much to put the tires back on the car?”

Jason rolls his eyes and gestures at him with the lug wrench. “Why don’t I just beat you up and steal your money? Is this the first time you’ve been to a bad part of town? Don’t show me your wallet, asshole. Come on.”

The man heaves a heavy, aggrieved sigh and starts pulling out bills. “Five hundred?” He tries. “Six? We can go to an ATM.”

“You are mugging yourself,” Jason says, oddly impressed. “Holy shit.”

M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tony Stark/Jason Todd

birds fly (why can't I?) by SafelyCapricious The apartment in Gotham that Natasha gets — all cash and no ID required — is a shithole.

But it’s her shithole.

Well, hers and the cockroaches’, she supposes, as she turns on the flickering light in the bathroom and at least a hundred of them scurry out of view.

M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Natasha Romanov (Marvel) & Jason Todd, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Jason Todd

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