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thebottomfromhell · 5 months

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I saw that you had more one shots/headcanons of male reader than female reader 😭, so I wanted to ask you if you could do a one shot of the Hantengu clones who accidentally kill their female human s/o because they had a big fight whit her and the clones killed her accidentally, if you want they can be separated into parts or that they are all together.

Take your time!

Most of my posts are requested, and since most blogs just post female reader, GN at most post, people the request bottom will explode for anyone who answers it. There is nothing wrong in not being comfortable in writing certain things, but most fem readers can and would ask in other blogs, since they have more spaces to choose from (ignoring that I'm more willing to write about violence than others) and I'm not the best writer neither so... whatever.

Thank you for being understanding about the time, I hope you like this.

Hantengu clones killing Human Female Reader S/O over an argument by accident and coping with it

Warnings: Femicide, Angst, Reader's death, Victim blaming, Bad coping mechanism,

Sekido:

Sekido got too comfortable... "SHUT UP WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU, WOMAN! WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME SO ANGRY?!" He is always angry, that is his main emotion, even when he can also feel other things, he can't stop feeling angry. As simple as that is. The only thing he could do is being careful with it. "YOU ARE THE ONE WHO NEVER LISTENS TO ME! WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS THIS INPOSSIBLE TO DEAL WITH?!" None of you even remember what are you fighting about, but it scalated.

You both were just too angry, forgetting what Sekido is. He just slamed the door with the staff with anger, electricity rising with his emotion unconciously. He didn't mean to heat you with it, but the last thing you felt was the air dying in your longs, your nerves burn and spasm with the attack before everything turned black. You hit your head when you fell. Guess you both also forgot what you were.

A mere human, meant to die, sooner or later. And you did sooner, because Sekido got too comfortable around you, not enough to treat you like the rest of the clones, but enough so you couldn't stand his anger. With his many years alive eating humans, he knows the sound of a broken skull. Still, Sekido gets closer to check on you, without pulse or breath. He feels anger negating any other feeling, including sorrow, regret, and anything else a normal human would have felt.

He tabs your body with his staff, making your head blow up due the impact, growling dangerously. "So fucking useless. BET THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED, HUH? MAKING ME-" he stops talking. You are not here anymore, so why should he? He just leaves you to rot. The others ask for you, but he shuts them up, forbids them from talking a while, attacks if they do anyway.

Sekido was always violent, too violent. So it happened, and he decided he was not dealing with you anymore.

Karaku:

"Can't you stop? I'm trying to have a seious conversation with you! Not everything is about pleasure!" You are tired of him. You love Karaku, you really do, but he shouldn't.. he can't... you can't even explain what is wrong with him, but you feel... neglected, not taken seriously enough. You hate it, specially since you have no idea what to do. "Nah, you are just stressed. Relax, princess. Stop worrying over nothing." See? He just... "I CAN'T DEAL WITH YOU ANYMORE! Why are you such a dick?"

He doesn't get angry, nor sad, he barely listens to you, being the "let's feel pleasure" the only face of his he is willing to show you. Maybe that is what is wrong. Meybe you both just can't emotionally bond the way you would like. You think about it within seconds, still angry, sad, vulnerable and other thousands of emotions that you have been holding up until now. Your eyes become wet, but you don't feel this is a safe space to cry, so you just lash out. "I HATE YOU!"

You tried to hit him as he was not facing you anymore, just wanting to relax, seeking any kind of pleasure, the thing that mades him and holds him together. He just... reacted... Karaku didn't mean anything, but the way the back of his hand impacted your side was too strong, to the point it broke more than a rib that basically stabbed your lung from the side, besides sending you flying. The only thing you remember is trying to breath, blood filling one of your lungs and making you choke.

Your eyes and throat hurted a lot, you could feel Karaku's gentle touch on your body, but besides that? You couldn't see of hear anything. It felt like hours, hours in which everything was more painful and tiredsome until... there wasn't anything anymore. He tried to save you, to bring you to a hospital, but you didn't make it, even with his speed. Finding a secluded place from a more secluded area that was not guarded by slayer but attended late night was impossible.

Karaku makes you a memorial, let's your family and friends know you died, even if they are not telled how. He visits, sometimes. But... even this was not able to change him. "Goodbye princess."

Urogi:

Urogi has hurt you before, accidentally. It's mostly when he plays, he has a hard time being aware of how dangerous his talons can be when around you. He can easily chase and dig those in other demons, in the other clones, without anything bad happening, so he is used to use them. Maybe you should have also considered that the second you decided your usual scoldings should heat up for him to listen to you, but you were becoming desesperate. "Urogi, can't you do ONE thing I ask you?"

At first it looked like it was working, he looked a bit sad, he has always been the clone less attached to his core emotion, mostly due the other animalistic traits. But in this case, those traits were also problematic. You have no idea how to deal with thos ans Urogi won't help with it. It becomes tiredsome. "I just asked you to be careful! Is it really too much?!" Maybe you should have stopped the second he was really looking regretful, because then he got angry at you.

"Where are you going?!" You asked when he clearly wanted to leave and was about to fly away. "Away!" Is all he says as he opens his wings, and you have no idea why you thought grabbing him would be a good idea... maybe that was it, you didn't think. "Don't touch me!" He didn't pay attention where he scratched for you to let him go, but... choking on your own blood with a cut on the neck was painful. So was bleeding out. "Y/N! Y/N! Please, I'm sorry!"

You could hear him plead and beg, as he carries you, trying to bring you... somewhere you could be healed, even if he didn't know where. So he was basically just making gravity make you bleed out more, height making you more dizzy as you grow tired, and tired and tired until... nothing. Just nothing.

The other clones tried comforting Urogi after, he didn't want to be separated from your corpse, but... there was nothing left to do. He still whimps about you, sometimes, and acts as if he was waiting for you to come back... he still waits yor you, at least to tell you he is sorry.

Aizetsu:

Aizetsu is the least violent of the clones, he doesn't attack if it's not on purpose, being always precise in order to give a quick death, as painless as possible. Even when you too have arguments, the few times you are angry enough he can't manipulate you into dropping it by looking sad and apologizing for everything... well, usually he just takes whatever scold you are giving him, waiting for you to calm down in order to avoid conflict. "Y/N. I'm sorry, I feel so bad about it. But could you stop scolding me? It's making me sa-" you interrupt. "Don't you dare making this about you!" Guess this is one of those times.

It gets to the point your throat hurts, that you sonehow forgot what, of everything, you were arguing in the first place. You basically said averything that was wrong but somehow you still feel like there is more to say, and you don't even understand what is going on. What do you want from this? You are basically repeating yourself right now but you are not satisfied at all. Why aren't you satisfied yet? What else is there? Have you forgotten something? That idea alone makes you feel worse.

None of you knows when or how it happened, actually. You both were stressed, to the point Aizetsu started to try and scape from you... using his demon abilities. It wasn't really his fault, he didn't touch you at all. It was an accudent during the chase, none of you would be able to tell what really happened but... you died. You died and, because it fed better into his sadness, the thing that made him, he blames and pities himself. And he pities you. Sadness and sorrow overwhealms him at some point, but he doesn't react to it at allAt least not more than usual.

He makes you a memorial in a place people can see it and carves words, not cearing who finds it. He had to ask Karaku help, but in the end... he will remember you forever. He even keeps some of your things. "I'm sorry, Y/N." He apologizes every time he goes to see you. He barely shows it but... he misses you a lot. But sadness is already part of him, and a important part of him, so... feeling so much sorrow is normal.

Sorrow is too normal, so sometimes he worries he actually doesn't feel anything about your death. Who knows?

#demon slayer #kny #upper moons #kny x reader #karaku #urogi #aizetsu #sekido #female reader

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genericpuff · 1 year

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What’s your opinion on the titans designs in lo

i swear to christ i was watching attack on titan when i read this question and did a double take like holy shit am i gonna get to gush about AOT????

okay but to answer the ACTUAL question, I actually have um... some interesting takes on them.

First off, for starters. Helios. Pretty neat. I know he's just yellow Zeus but he's big and he's sassy and I wish we could see more of him.

Kronos was cool until RS turned him into an MCU villain.

Gaia I'm sort of indifferent on... she really doesn't have any sort of real role in the story beyond being some Avatar McGuffin. Her original design was badass but then ofc, as all things go in LO, RS dumbed her design down and now she looks just like another Persephone clone.

Rhea was great when she first appeared but, again, Persephone clone. I don't like the recent retcon/establishment that the fertility goddesses need to experience love to have their powers used because it casts some fucked up implications (beyond the obvious) when she begged Zeus to find Metis and "use her powers no matter the cost". If I had known at the time that was gonna turn into "Zeus had a relationship with Metis" I would have been a bit more like... yikes, Rhea.

And then there's Metis... oh boy, do I have some takes about Metis. Very personal ones.

So here's the thing. Metis is the name of the Greek god, yes. But it's... it's not what comes up when you search "Metis" on its own. Because there ALSO exists an Indigenous group of people in Canada called 'Métis'. And LO Metis' design is-

sigh yeah.

Now I know I'm gonna get people who are saying I'm "reading too much into it" but y'all. I'm Mi'kmaq. The Métis people come from the same regions my own ancestors do, my own family pretty much shares blood and land with them. I promise you, I'm not pulling any of this out of my ass, Metis' design stood out to me as soon as I saw it because her outfit really resembles the fringe that you find EVERYWHERE in Indigenous clothing, like we fucking LOVE FRINGE LOL (I've got a cape/poncho thing with loads of fringe that I whip out for special occasions) And the wings resemble a lot of the 'finger feathers' you see in Mi'kmaq, Maliseet, Cree, and yes, Métis art.

phew sorry I know Hephaestus is also drawn with a similar skin tone and Metis starts to veer off into flanderized colors with the bright orange like every other character in this comic, but it's just like... not a great combination.)

(*edit because I forgot to add: it also REALLY REALLY REALLY DOESN'T HELP that Metis is the ONLY TITAN designed with non-neon colors. Like, she's been explicitly drawn with darker orange/reddish tones that are OFTEN AFFILIATED WITH INDIGENOUS PEOPLE. THE SLUR 'REDSKIN' EXISTS FOR A REASON-

So... yeah. Take that with what you will. I'm not necessarily accusing RS of anything (because Metis being drawn like a Métis woman is like, the least of LO's problems) but at BEST she's just got some REAL shit Googling skills or like... didn't think anyone would notice? 😂

Either way that's... that's my (*probably biased) take on Metis. At the very least it does result in her having a way more interesting design than the others (who are basically just big color-swapped versions of Hades and Persephone) but IDK if that's a good thing when that design is in the hands of RS. She ruined Metis in the most recent episodes which is kinda lowkey even more insulting LMAO

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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toastedjeans · 4 months

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Okay so i might make Siren AU into a thing. Got some very loose thoughts / this is basically just me brainstorming (if anyone has any ideas please don't hesitate to tell me)

Peppino can't swim. He just sits in his shitty little boat while fishing one day and suddenly gets attacked by probably Pizzahead or Pizzaface. Gustavo sees him struggling and panicking, and saves him from almost drowning.

I already made some concept doodles for Gustavo, he's basically a mermaid but with a shark tail and those fin thingies instead of ears. Round little shark man <3 He also doesn't inherently think humans are evil or something, when someone's in distress he tries to help as best as he can. He can get very protective over friends and loved ones tho. Don't anger him. You'll regret it.

The sirens probably can't speak human language, with a few exceptions. Pizzahead probably learned it from (obsessively) observing humans, and then tried teaching it to Fakey. Fakey can speak fractions of sentences or words, but it mostly sounds like gibberish. He doesn't speak often though, mostly communicates with croaks, gurgles, and other noises. I like to imagine Gustavo tries to learn to speak human language so he can communicate with Peppino better (bonus points if his first full sentence for some reason is "I'm going to kill you", not knowing what it means and scaring the shit out of Peppino)

Fakey stays a frog, but with like. A tail, like when frogs are in that transitional phase between tadpole and frog ya know. But still humanoid looking, i mean he has to look like Peppino, right? Created by Pizzahead out of literal frog DNA and.. anger? Jealousy? Unhealthy obsession? All of the above? Idk yet

Mr. Stick is probably one of the few characters that stay human, and he's one of Peppino's friends/acquaintances

Not sure if Brick should stay a rat, possibly even Peppino's (involuntary) pet, or some kinda fish that's already Gustavo's friend. Although it'd be fun if Brick just lives with Pep, and Pep can't get rid of him no matter what he does, so he reluctantly keeps him.

I literally have no ideas for Pepperman and Vigilante. All i could think of for Vigi rn is uh. Sea slug. But Pepperman?? Zero clue. Head empty. Help.

Got two thoughts for the Noises, either Noise is a human too, but Noisette is a siren luring him in (or vice versa!), or both of them are sirens. Option 2 would make more sense to me, but option 1 seems interesting too.. OR secret option 3, Noise and Noisette are both creatures that transform depending on if they're in water or on land. Peppino doesn't know this. The Noises act like it's the most normal thing in the world.

Pizzahead as either a regular siren or maybe like. An octopus/squid? Kinda like Ursula from Ariel idk. Or maybe an eel. Idk why

I still think it'd be funny if Pizzaface was a flat fish. I forgot what they're called but the mental image is so funny to me. Flat fuck.

Pizzahead probably got the idea of cloning Peppino cause he once saw how strong he is, and thought he would need that kinda strength for the war between him and.. other creatures.. i actually haven't thought about that one.. who would he even be against? Are the other bosses on his side? Is he trying to start a war between sirens and humans bc of people like Peppino fishing all the time? Or have humans started a war against the sirens in ancient times and it's still in their nature to despise humans because of that?

#toast talk #pizza tower #this post is a mess #you can tell I'm struggling to come with anything worthwile #anyway feedback or help is appreciated #i can already tell people are gonna lose interest in this au just bc this post is so shit #and by people i mean. the two people who expressed their interest in the tags #ANYWAY TOAST IS RAMBLING IN THE TAGS AGAIN I'M SORRY #Siren Tower AU

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doom-nerdo-666 · 1 year

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"Deconstructing" the Dark Lord

There's a lot of things to be said about this character.

The most i usually say is "it's a mix of things that could have been seperate" and there's a good reason: He's a character almost made special by the ingredients combined that define him.

And each idea that represents him lead to fans expect anything but the final result and i believe even id themselves have second thoughts about this character (You've probably heard the idea that he was supposed to have a dragon phase).

So this post of mine is both me explaining why some fans didn't like the Dark Lord, while also thinking out ideas that could've worked or appealed more to fans.

Even if some of these ideas don't make a lot of sense or "contradict lore", it's more about Doom "being epic" and how some concepts rank in a "cool factor" for a series like Doom (At least considering some fans).

MAJOR SPOILERS, even if this is Doom.

"EVIL DOOMGUY"

People expected a 1v1 style duel where you fight a "mirror/copy" of Doomguy and not a "retouched Marauder" (This specifically feels wrong in the era of the series where lore matters a bit more and there's a special focus around Doomguy's current state as the ultimate demon killer).

The explenation of him looking like Doomguy may not help: I forgot but i think it's a weird context that means Doomguy IS the actual copy even if not intentional (To fans, Doomguy's appeal is that he was a random guy that got into a whole mess and wasn't always special).

And i guess how Doomguy's face isn't faithfull enough in 3D yet, but i mentioned that in a previous post of mine.

Ideally, "Evil Doomguy" could be like this:

Make the armor like the Immora/Skullface/Cultist skins where it's a demonic version of the Praetor suit.

Give him an arsenal of different weapons that are bound to phases.

The phase weapon system means he could start with a weak pistol and shotgun, like he's growing his arsenal by phases.

His weapons (Shotguns, chaingun, rifle, rocket launcher, plasma rifle, Gauss/Ballista equivalent etc) would have somewhat unique/different alt fires/mods even if their primary fires are the same as the player's.

At the last phase, he'd obviously have a BFG9000 and a Crucible with its own melee attacks.

Even his Chainsaw has melee attacks.

He can also double jump and dash, while also having his own equipment launcher cannon.

He can glory kill nearby fodder enemies for resources: THIS right here is his weakness, because he can run out of resources and has to fight for them like Doomguy does, so it's like a window of opportunity to hit him back.

His health bar has his own animated face on the HUD, just to show how much of a Doomguy clone he is.

At some point, his helmet falls during combat and he shows his face.

Lore: Make him a creation by Hell that exists as a mix of both fear and hatred Hell has toward Doomguy.

Alt lore idea: Remember Doomguy's boss that was mentioned in the D1 manual? Maybe he ended up going through his own journey through Hell and became an "Anti-Slayer" (And then his shoulder equip launcher is like a snake creature).

Stage? Maybe something like a "deathmatch arena" you'd expect out of Quake 3 or something, since a simple large circular area won't be good enough.

The idea of a rival for Doomguy seems special when you consider factors like how the Marauder still had a limited arsenal, when D3 has a boss that was Doomguy's boss turned into a monster with the BFG9000, zombie soldiers always carrying familiar/ingame weapons etc.

Plus, "evil version of the protagonist" is popular in some other games as well, so it's like Doom lied about its own version of it.

(Scythe 2 screenshot taken from Doomwiki, since the wad includes an "evil marine" that the player faces; Speaking of which, Colorfull Hell had a boss called "Player 9" that replaces the Zombieman and it's a fake deathmatch player invading your game)

Also, remember “voodoo dolls” from the Doom engine? Imagine if Doomguy saw these strange copies of him before facing an “anti-Doomguy” and the player even had to avoid shooting these Doomguy clones because they’d cost Doomguy’s health as well (Because that’s technically why they’re called “voodoo dolls” to begin with and are how some WADs get to do weird things not even id themselves considered).

THE "DEVIL" OF DOOM

Because if it's not the Icon of Sin, maybe "the Devil" could have been a bigger creature, almost like planet size or even "Hell itself" if you assume that an infinite, reality defying, evil dimension can be its own living entity.

A “planet sized demon” could easily be Doom’s version of Junji Ito’s Remina, like something as a follow up to “Doomguy shoots the BFG10K on Mars to make a hole” and even a nod to TNT Revilution’s first skybox, but with for example an Icon of Sin head attached to Jupiter or something.

So depending on how "eldritch" and giant the "CEO of Hell" would be implied to be, i thought of a boss fight where you're "inside the beast" and combines level puzzle elements with combat.

Visually, it has a weird surreal aesthetic like all the weirdest parts of Hell combined and some new weird elements.

But there's a variety of weak points (Some shootable, others punchable, even some where you jump on top of them like that "Jumpable" enemy idea i wrote before) where the Player fights the beast they're inside in, while avoiding hazards and traps to stay alive.

Maybe there's special artifacts or items (Some unique to this fight) to keep the player closer to their goal.

In general, this idea is inspired by stuff like the classic IOS and Quake's Chthon and Shub fights where the level design is part of defeating the boss (Along with D2RPG having the VIOS or something).

Then there's the seemingly unused "6 archdemons".

Maybe we could even go with the idea that Hell has a lot more "dark lords" because humans will never truly comprehend who rules Hell, as if it was meant to confuse humans.

Meanwhile, John Romero's SIGIL ending text had the phrase "Baphomet was only doing Satan's bidding" and the episode made use of Christopher Lovell's pre-existing "Satanic" artwork.

Also, the “real Devil of Doom” could involve a “ultimate endgame” style level where reality is falling apart and you see different assets of Hell/Earth/Mars/Sentinel Prime/Urdak/etc fused and mixed, while the level has non-euclidean geometry and gravity attached to different surfaces and even the skybox shows different backgrounds fused, to indicate Hell messing up with reality.

ALSO GOD

I think people were already fine with The Father, even if not with the twist of him also being VEGA.

But to think Doomguy technically "kills God" because him and "Satan" were the same thing seems odd.

Maybe this also depends on how people feel about Urdak and whether or not Doom is getting "less Christian" even if the series never tapped that much into "accurate" Biblical references.

THE MECH SUIT

It's something that could have been a super heavy enemy at best, like if Immora's army had mech guys or even if 2016's Hell Guard made a comeback with a tech aesthetic (Yet again, something i wrote in a previous post).

Davoth wearing this armor doesn't really give the idea of being "on pair" with Doomguy.

It's weird because the mech itself makes him bigger than Doomguy but he only has few attacks.

THE NAME "DAVOTH"

The use of the name “Davoth” and one of the concept art knight designs of the Dark Lord could inspire a tall humanoid Immoran knight that references Goliath; So imagine if Immora had a 12 feet tall knight named Davoth and he could be a miniboss or something.

The name itself isn't bad and neither is that "metal heart" thing on his chest, even if it sounds like i'm talking about reusing them for something else.

CHARACTER AND MOTIVATION

Might be getting it wrong, but wasn't he mad that he didn't found immortality or something and that lead to him being betrayed by his own servants?

Because when you think of the idea of Hell, you'd think he could have been "Evil for the sake of it".

May seem weird for a series whose appeal is "badass space marine destroys the ultimate place of evil".

IMMORA

Also something i talked about before but:

The idea of "Hell's heart" being a city with humans seems weird for, again, the place of evil where bad people go where they die.

And the sci-fi aesthetic seems weird, not just because "they painted Urdak red" but because the original games already had an idea of "Hell tech".

(Again, flesh walls with stabbing metal pipes and giant skull with computers inside the sockets)

When you think about it, it's as if Hell only ever had technology just to mock humans; Something in a "God creates, Satan imitates" way.

Even the Cultist Base aesthetic could've worked to suit the "evil technology" idea.

It's part of why i thought 2016 making it that the UAC created cybernetic demons is weird: It might weaken Hell a bit and take away the weirdness that the classic games already presented.

Because even if Hell had armies and stuff that almost put them on the same level as UAC/Sentinel soldiers, it should still have a touch of "evil magic" or as if something was created from a spiteful nature.

Indicating that Hell has a 100% evil "personality" that cannot be reasoned with.

And also, like i said: D2016's multiplayer had cooler demonic armor sets and the Reaper weapon was done dirty when used by the Demonic Troopers.

I thought Immora would work more if it was a "paradise for sinners" where its soldiers were sinners and evil former humans that were more competent than other former humans because they were "rewarded".

Maybe a legit Satanic cult paradise, where its humans are those that betrayed mankind?

And the fact that there's "humans" in Immora could justify them as "evil copies/parodies", so you could make demons that look "humanoid" but are still weird.

WHAT ELSE

It's easy to see that The Ancient Gods shouldn't have been made under a year one season pass release contract.

But i wonder if even without those limitations, things would change that much.

Because Doom was never a "lore bound" series, which is why i think there's an "easy" solution to "bad lore ideas": Just having a new game do things differently, even if they "break lore".

Perhaps the fact we even think of "how to fix the Dark Lord" means there's a somewhat positive impact on the DL existing in general: A reminder that Doom is fun to reinterpret.

Whether it's for fun or because some fans weren't happy with certain things.

One can also see thing as "fans making Doom more epic than it actually is", even if it's not new/caused by new fans when older fans were always doing that too.

"What about the dragon idea?" Maybe make that a seperate monster/boss, even with some homage to the D3 Maledict or even Quake and Hexen or something.

FooSarr did an interesting video about a demonic Wintherin, but i already posted it before.

And semi-related but Bethesda artist Jonah Lobe drew a "demonic" version of the Doomslayer.

Perhaps a criticism is that it factors too much into certain D2016 aspects that made the demons "even more alien than in D3", though this is a prespective worth mentioning in a different post.

Honestly, it feels like there's a lot of ways you can go with "evil Doomguy"; Again, me talking about Doom's "true versatility" even if it's too easy to talk about it than anything actually being made.

At least the idea of Doomguy being put to rest after defeating the main bad guy isn't so bad and i guess his theme song wasn't bad either.

Could have said something about the "final fight" starring the Sentinel army and how Doomguy needed to go to Earth to use the gate to Divum or something but maybe for another post.

#doom #id software #opinions #spoilers #dark lord #immora #hell #doom eternal #doomguy #long post #idea #redesign

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okami-zero · 1 year

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"You can't come here"

*watches latest G-Witch*

There it is! The seething vengeance behind that mirthless smile, hidden by a helm that obscure the eyes. Possible spoilers below (but if you are keeping up with the show, not really).

I was waiting for it. Waiting to see behind her facade, to see what embers smoldered that burned away Elnora Samaya and left Prospera Mercury. The remnants of her motherly love for her child twisted to create a weapon from her child/children. With a remaining desparate (mad, perhaps?) hope to resurrect her daughter through the use of Quiet Zero to rewrite reality. (This always goes SO WELL whenever it's attempted. /s)

Lots of people are debating/speculating that the GUND-Bits are failed Eri clones, using Ple and her clones from Gundam ZZ as a parallel. However, based on what we saw when she nearly fried Elan-But-Not-Really's brain, if she is just Permet data now... perhaps they are merely copies. Or shards. Connected and with a limited independence, but still linked to Eri's core consciousness. The fact that Aerial can act on it's own without Suletta's input (seen in the fight with Sophie) is also concerning. This basically reduces Suletta to a battery and "starter" for the Gundam. Once the Permet level hits...Six, was it? Then Suletta doesn't seem to be 100% needed.

However, this conjecture is based on Aerial's cease of attack against Sophie being not because Suletta begged her, but because she had already overloaded the poor girl's brain. I don't think there's a clear cut answer for this just yet. Also as an aside, Norea's blaming of Sophie's death on Nika feels a bit hypocritical, until one considers one simple thing.

They may not have ever lost before.

It's easy to pontificate how mobile suits, and Gundams specifically, are made for killing people when you are the one doing the killing and not the dying. But being the one doing that (well, that was mostly Sophie, poor kid), then getting angry when your comrade is killed by one such weapon of war... it is understandable, perhaps even relatable. And horrible. But the asshole response of "Well, guess you were right" hovers in the back of my mind.

This is where things start getting stickier, I reckon. Hope this ends up at least the standard 25 episodes (not counting the Prologue).

So now, we have an election for President coming in. In the running being Shaddiq, Miorine...maybe Guel, too? Someone from Peil, certainly. Or maybe. Keeping track of factions is going to start needing a scoreboard...

Peil Technologies (creepy Bene Gesserit-looking ladies creep me the absolute FUCK out)

Dawn of Fold

Benerit Group

Earth House/GUND-ARM, Inc.

Shaddiq

Lady Prospera

And now The Moderators

Hoo boy.

Oh! Oh! Wait, I almost didn't talk about poor fucking Suletta! Who is all but a freaking puppet, with absolute faith in what Mama says to do! And while Miorine is upset by Suletta basically saying "I'll do what Mom tells me, because she's always right!" mindset is actually MORE upset with Prospera having turned her daughter into a completely obedient and subservient puppet than she is directly AT Suletta. And also horrifed that Prospera would do that, to her own daughter, no less. I mean, I am with Miorine, that's absolutely horrible, but righteous fury and all-consuming thirst for vengeance are things that push all other concerns and emotions aside.

And this is merely the BEGINNING.

I say again:

Hoo boy.

Edit: When I was writing this, and went to find the quote for my post's title, Crunchyroll was having fits. Finally got it to come up, though. Guess we're just overloading their servers. xD Also HOLY SHIT THIS IS EPISODE SIXTEEN. This is going to be more than a standard 25 ep show. Or at least, I hope so. I have seen what happens when you try to cram everything into limited episodes. >.<

I don't think it'll hit Gundam Wing length (oh, but if it did, ooooh, a treat! A treat for Miette!) but we shall see!

Edit the second: Forgot in my original post to have our Earth House/GUND-ARM, Inc. underdogs on the list of factions. This nigh-egregious error has been rectified.

#okami rambles #okami watches g witch #mobile suit gundam: Witch from Mercury #mobile suit gundam #witch from mercury #g-witch #g-witch spoilers-ish

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dokidokitsuna · 2 years

Text

Spoiler-Free Reactions to RWBY: Arrowfell~

I watched a playthrough, so I can’t comment on how it actually feels to play the game, but based on what I saw, my overall grade is C+...which is much higher than I thought it would be.

So although I’m gonna say a lot of nasty things about this game (and there are a lot of nasty things to say about it (o゜▽゜)o☆) I’m also gonna explain why it’s not as bad as I expected.

First, a moment of silence for all the people who thought this game was gonna be secretly * AMAZING * because WayForward and ArcSys were involved. Whoever you are out there...I’m so sorry. ^^;;;;

Love how the ‘towns’ just have NPCs standing in an evenly-spaced line XD Great immersive gameplay experience, 10/10 no notes

The action cutscenes look...good?! oAo Like, Team BRIR’s introduction actually looked kind of cool...maybe RT should downsize and just focus on working with game developers...

Love those little ‘item get!’ animations~

Of course Yang’s semblance ability is the ‘special block puncher’(¬_¬ ) ...all the other girls have some strategic elements to their semblances; even Ruby can be used to quickly zip past enemies when revisiting areas. But Yang’s semblance has only one use; you have very little reason to play as her for longer than half a second. Even when she gains the Burn+ damage boost, it doesn’t mean much when you could, for instance, simply stack Blake with 2 clones and get triple damage...

Speaking of Blake, her clones not only function as autonomous attack turrets, they can block bullets AND act as targets for enemy homing attacks. Far and away the best semblance in the game. ‘_’

Penny is beautiful and cute and deserves the world...honestly, shame on RT for throwing such a wonderful girl in the trash for mere shock value... Anyway, it was a very pleasant surprise to see her in this game, even if it was just as a silly side character.

Side note: Why is Weiss so mean to Penny now?? இ௰இ Almost everything she says to her is some kind of insult...

Ruby and Weiss both have noticeably different characterization in this game, actually: Weiss is a LOT meaner to everyone, worse than she was in V1, even...and Ruby kinda got turned into a stereotypical dopey airhead anime girl. :/ She’s still more entertaining than the canon show version, but...man, I miss awkward nerd Ruby...

Qrow is characterized differently too-- he’s actually entertaining again! o_O I legit forgot his character used to be cool and fun...

BTW, fixed Yang: instead of making her semblance a mere tool to get rid of glowy blocks, they could’ve given her ‘crowd control’ abilities as well-- maybe her special punch could knock back/stun enemies or repel attacks. It’d probably come in handy when you’re getting mobbed during the ‘Ambush’ stages... ...See, this isn’t hard, folks. ^^;

JAMES! JAMES!!! JAMES!!!! (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) ...Okay, to be honest, Ironwood is only marginally relevant in this game, but it was nice to see him again too. ^^ It’s great that all these ruined and/or murdered characters get to have one last chance to shine here.

Demonizing the civil rights movement wasn’t enough; now we’re going to demonize unions...oh, Rooster Teeth...(╬▔v▔)

And on that note: did RT really not have a hand in writing this game...? Because it really feels like something they would write... Maybe they gave WayForward the concepts and basic story outline to use...it would explain why many things were actually executed well (i.e. ‘everyone can write RWBY better than its actual creators’ strikes again) even though the plot still contains some of their trademark icky writing decisions...

OKAY, so: The game may be cheap and basic-looking, but it’s solid. ‘_’ Definitely feels like something made by people with adequate resources and skill that they just didn’t feel like spending a lot of their time on, rather than the usual “we ran out of budget! DX We didn’t know what to do!” that we usually get with RWBY media. Basically, there’s not a lot there, but what is there is relatively well done. It’d be a good game to give to an 11-year-old kid or something (although idk if there are still RWBY fans that young). ^^;

Spoiler-FULL reactions are on their way, in which I’ll have a LOT MORE nasty things to say. =_= Stay tuned...

#rwby #rwby arrowfell

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sokumotanaka · 1 year

Text

I recently saw this giftset of Neo making these copies, like roses fall out of her pants, and she suddenly has one two or more clones appear alongside her. I thought at that moment. “How do semblances even work or evolve?” there’s no rhyme or reason as to how they even works in universe.

The last time they tried to explain Semblance to the audience Ren told us “It either is something, nothing or entirely unrelated to the point I don’t even know why I opened my mouth.” That’s not me being facetious He literally contradicted himself.

“Some people say this, some people say this, others don’t see a connection at all.” It’s like the snake oil of explanations. If you’re trying to get people to understand the process of unlocking their unique super power they need more to go on than guesswork.

For example they watched HXH and stole hunters and technically semblance and Aura cause that’s what nen is and everyone gets a unique super power from said healing protecting aura.

But at least in Hunter X Hunter they have things like the water divition test, which they give you a glass or water and using your Aura near in tells you what you have as a Hunter.

For a short example: 1. The volume of water changes- Enhancer.

2. The Taste of water changes- Transmuter.

3. Tiny impurities appear in water- Conjurer.

---

Now why do I bring this up? Because Neo’s semblance Evolution makes no sense to her prior abilities. When the series started Neo could project a fake image of herself and others as a glasslike substance or transform herself later on. She literally wore a disguise in the Tournament, she didn’t shape shift into someone missing or a new person, she was wearing a wig and didn’t even bother to hide her eyes from the guy she stomped out.

And it seemed like RT forgot that cause she never seems to use the ability to project fake illusions cause that would of been smart as a get away rather than, standing there and letting Oscar a 14 year old get a punch on her...

But now she makes generic clones like Flynt, Sun and Blake do; and I can’t help but think it be cooler if her illusions were fully solid, so she could project creatures to actually attack, or her semblance went out towards a full room illusion. It’s the natural progression for illusion based powers. (And explain her home randomly appearing in the alice and wonderland world)

But honestly in a better series they’d put them under semblance categories like Blake, Flynt and Sun could go under a conjuror field, or Ruby, Yang and Nora a enhancer, since they enhance parts of their body, Ruby’s speed in comparison to Yang and Nora’s strength. And also explaining to the audience how Semblance growth works, so the audience can keep up and predict where a semblance’s growth can go, and even help out the writers.

I don’t even know how to feel about this semblance’s evolution. Like When Katara stopped the rain completely in the last season of Avatar I felt pride cause I watched her go from barely being able to move with it too manipulating it in full. You know what that is? Growth!

Or Steven from Steven universe who goes from barely being able to summon the shield and getting tired from summoning the shield in full and beyond, making giant walls of shields, then you move onto “Ruby has her speed.” To another separate person telling us what her super power is cause the main character doesn’t even know what it is??? What has Neo done growth wise to get this upgrade? What about freaking ren who just exist?

This is the issue with them not wanting to explain anything, with them making WOR and then retconning them consistently, with them talking about how you can’t run into potholes if you don’t make it a plotline or it’s a cartoon. So is Avatar and it has enough respect and care for it’s own craft to make a coherent and functioning world full of characters and creatures and places we care about.

I wouldn’t save Remnant from a Meteor if it made me rich to do so.

Semblance evolution has no structure, Ren’s turned into a lie detector, Neo’s clones, where will Yang’s semblance go? Or speed or weiss’s bs semblance? We don’t know, and neither do they; because it’s so poorly and lazily defined.

Anyway thanks for reading to this point, if you did let me know how you’d make the semblance system better, I’d love to read those.

Thanks again. -Sokumon

#rwby #rwde #Critical thinking post

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sprog-writes · 2 years

Text

Summary

Peter can't believe that after all those years he forgot to introduce his friends to Kaine and Ben.

Good thing that the clones have stopped trying to kill him or things would get really complicated, really quick.

Story under the cut!

If you knew Peter Parker you'd also know a lot of peculiar things seem to happen to him. Some more believable than others.

If you’re Peter Parker’s friend you’d also know that he has a tendency of making other people aware of those things a little too late in the game, in a way that doesn’t let you improve his situation if such is ever needed.

MJ knew that.

Flash knew that.

Harry especially knew that.

They were sitting in their favorite spot, a little coffee shop that had grown with them, one they'd been visiting since before Gwen’s death. One that has changed itself to accommodate Flash’s wheelchair after his deployment -as well as Matt’s blindness when it came to it, but that’s another story for another time- and one where the baristas knew their exact orders by heart -Gwen’s had even been added to the menu when she passed.

They were waiting for Peter to show up, finish whatever fight he got into, and/or save whoever found themselves in need of saving. He had never missed one of their weekly catch-ups –been late? Yes, almost always. So much so that they’d resorted to telling him a false time of arrival, a few half hours before they would actually show up, and he still managed to end up late most days– so the other three were calmly sipping their drinks as they kept an eye on the door.

“It’s 11 in the morning, Harry. Isn't it a bit too early to get a cocktail?”

“Flash, dear. You drink your heart attack in a cup, and I drink my unhealthy coping mechanism. It’s just the way it is,”

“Dude…”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle and clink his glass of Old Fashioned to Flash’s salt caramel flavored hot chocolate with whipped cream, sprinkles, and chocolate shavings on top.

“You’re both disgusting,” MJ commented, sipping her iced boba, “but nothing you order will be worse than Peter’s,” she smirked, as she raised her own glass to accentuate her point then took another sip.

“Amen to that,” Flash giggled in return just in time for them to hear the little bell on top of the door jingle as someone made their way in.

“Hey, man!” Harry immediately got up and went to the newcomer, gesturing at him to join them in their spot -next to the establishment’s windows, where they’ve sat since the beginning- and hugged his friend.

With one arm lounged on the other's shoulders, Harry enveloped him in a side hug and began moving towards their table.

“Uhm-”

“We already ordered for you. We knew you'd be late again and frankly, we didn't want to wait for your abomination of an order,” Harry admitted and then raffled the other's hair. He made a questioning sound, squinting to look at it, “did you do something to your hair, Pete?”

“Oh!” wide-eyed with understanding the other exclaimed, “I see what's going on here now”

“What do you mean, tiger?” MJ asked when the two were close to their table and as Harry sat back down on his seat.

“Well, actually-” he was interrupted by the sound of the bell chiming again, as another guy came in quickly, apologizing while he made his way towards Harry and his friends' table.

“I'm so sorry guys! I was actually on time this time, but one of my skateboard's wheels came off as I was crossing the road and an old lady almost tripped on it and I felt bad, so I helped her get home and once we were there she just kept giving me food and talking about her grandson and how proud she was of him for coming out after she saw my pin and-” he stopped, realizing his friend group was one member too much and made eye contact with the additional guy standing right next to Harry.

“Hey, Peter”

He smiled wide and with a half chuckle, he squeezed the other with a hug, “Ben! Where have you been, man? You didn’t even tell me you’d be back in New York”

Ben chuckled, “You’re crushing my ribs, Pete”

“Oh! Sorry,” Peter apologized as he let him go, “tell me everything”

“Well, we actually weren’t planning on staying long”

“We?” Peter grinned, “is Kaine with you?”

“Ugh, yeah. He got evicted a few weeks ago while we were in the same town and he attached himself to me like a leech,” they both laughed.

“Dude, I haven’t heard from you two in forever!”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Ben scratched his neck sheepishly, “our phones got destroyed a few months ago and we haven’t been able to replace them yet”

“I have to go with you then!”

“Are you sure?” Ben eyed the group next to him, hoping Peter would take the hint.

He did not.

Harry, however, did. The three others were observing the scene before them with amusement (MJ), disbelief (Flash) and betrayal (Harry). MJ was smiling and sipping her tea while slapping Flash in the arm, who was too shocked and slack jawed to actually be annoyed by it.

“Yes, Peter,” Harry said with his arms crossed, “aren’t you forgetting something?” he raised an eyebrow, jerking his head towards their table.

“Oh-” Peter sat down and dumped his backpack under the table, hooking his leg into one of the straps, “You are so right!”

“There you g-”

“We should all go to meet up with Kaine!”

“No, Pete,” MJ tried to get it together enough to explain it to him, but couldn’t help but laugh so hard she could hardly breathe.

“Peter,” Flash took pity on him, “we have no idea who you’re talking about,” he said softly, stealing a glance towards Ben.

Peter’s eyes widened, “did Gwen and I never tell you about it?”

“What does she have to do with this?” Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It seemed whatever Peter forgot to tell them went all the way back to the beginning of college. And -yes, ok- they weren’t the closest at the time, they had a bit of a falling out, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t deserve to know about Peter’s apparent twin brother!

Ben decided to come to Peter’s rescue and interrupt the pitiful display happening in front of him, “Hi, I feel like it’s my time to introduce myself then,” he extended a hand in the group’s direction, “I’m Ben Reily. I'm one of Peter's clones"

His introduction was met with flabbergasted expressions.

"You know, I shouldn't be surprised that this has happened to you. And yet," Flash spoke up, still unable to keep his eyes off of Ben.

"'One of'?" were the only words that came out of Harry's mouth.

"Kaine's the other," Ben supplied as a response.

"Ah! Don't forget Jessica!" Peter piped in.

"Oh, yeah. I haven't heard from her in so long, how's she doing?"

“Pretty good, actually! She started hanging out with Miles a lot lately and-”

“Hate to interrupt such a heartfelt reunion, but I need you to give us more details, man,” Flash had been steadily sipping at his drink, admiring the display in front of him, “you can’t just drop the fact you have clones on us and then not elaborate”

Peter looked around, seemingly realizing the situation he’d put himself and his friends in, “Oh gosh. I can’t believe me and Gwen never talked about this,”

“To be fair,” Ben added, “you, me, and Kaine weren’t on the best of terms in the beginning. And Jessica is a more recent development so,” he let the sentence trail off, vaguely gesturing with his hands and shrugging.

“What does that even mean?!”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Ben started, not letting Peter explain the situation, “we stopped wanting to kill Peter and steal his life ages ago”

“I don’t think that helps your case, Ben”

“It definitely doesn’t,” MJ finished the last sip of her drink and stood up, picking up her purse and pulling out her wallet, “but I also definitely want to meet Kaine now”

“And Jessica, when the time comes,” Flash added.

“You two are insane”

“But you’ll still be coming with, right Harr?”

“Of course I am. You would be lost without me”

Ben watched how Peter smiled at his friends and resigned himself to his destiny. He knew Kaine wasn’t going to enjoy the impromptu visit. He grinned.

It was going to be hilarious.

The walk to Ben and Kaine’s hotel was relatively uneventful, with MJ, Flash, and Peter using the time to actually catch up, while Ben forced himself to look everywhere that wasn’t Harry, who kept sending death glares his way.

“Wade did what?”

Peter laughed, almost tearful, “I know, I know. But I swear Double D deserved it this time,” MJ shook her head, hiding a smile with her hand, “And-” he extended the word, ignoring her, “-we had the spouse’s approval. So-”

“I don’t know if that makes it better, to be completely honest with you”

“Hey, no one got hurt in the end, and DD only tried to punch me a little after that”

“Sorry to cut the story short, guys,” Ben interrupted, as he reached for the door of the building next to them, and after an awkward ride in the hotel’s elevator, they made their way into room 704.

“Hello, honey. I’m home!”

“STOP CALLING ME THAT, YOU DICKHEAD”

“Love you, too, buddy,” Peter had to suppress a laugh at the other two’s exchange. He had missed them, though he wouldn’t admit it in front of Kaine. He doesn’t need to get bullied by his own clone, too, and Kaine had a ‘every emotion other than anger and disgust is stupid and shouldn’t be expressed’ kind of mentality. Like the wannabe edgy 14-year-olds that Peter taught to.

It was pretty funny, on occasion.

Kaine walked up in front of them as they stood at the room’s entrance. Peter didn’t expect him to be only wearing boxers while eating cereal straight from the box. He froze as soon as he saw them.

“DUDE,” Flash yelled, shielding his eyes, cheeks redding up.

“Jeez, Kaine!” Ben walked past him, grabbing a pair of shorts that one of them had left in a corner of the room and threw them at Kaine's face, “put some clothes on, I don’t want to see your junk!”

“We have the same junk”

“Yeah but it’s not on my own body, so it’s weird man”

“Whatever,” Kaine grumbled as he rolled his eyes and acquiesced to Ben’s request, “what’s the Peanut gallery doing here anyway?”

“Peter forgot to tell them about us, MJ and Flash wanted to meet you, and I’m pretty sure Harry is plotting how to kill us and make it look like an accident”

“Seems about right”

MJ was the first one to regain composure, Flash still covering his eyes, and Peter about to burst with laughter. She cleared her throat and extended a hand towards the two bickering in front of all of them, “Hi, my name’s Mary Jane and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Kaine,” she smiled pleasantly.

“Yeah no need to do that,” Kaine walked away from the crowd, towards what the others could only assume was the kitchen to sit down his cereal box, “we have all of Peter’s memories up until sophomore year of college”

“WHAT,” Harry was the first one to react, pulling Flash’s hands away from his eyes as he did so. Flash felt himself get even redder, his cheeks heating up even more.

"So," Peter took pity on his friends and stalked forward, sitting on the couch, "what have you two been up to?"

Ben shrugged, "Nothing much. Vigilante-ing, mostly. I hang out with Johnny sometimes. See how long it takes him to realize I'm not you"

"Which Johnny?"

"Storm"

"Nice"

Kaine threw the shirt he was putting on at Ben's head, "Stop messing with him. He has enough money to actually ruin our lives"

"So does Tony Stark, though. And Peter bothers him plenty," Flash decided to join in on the conversation. Peter sent him a grateful smile, happy to see him make the effort to get to know them.

"Yeah but Tony is never learning our secret identity,"

"I do," Harry sat next to Peter on the couch, "and I also have enough money to ruin your lives"

"Harr," Peter admonished.

"Hey, guys," MJ rested her arm on Harry's head, "we don't have to share Peter anymore. There's one each," she smiles, "I call Kaine"

"I feel offended," Peter crossed his arms.

"Me too"

Peter looked at Kaine, "Why are you offended?"

"I just got compared to you. That hurts, you suck"

Peter made an affronted face, which made Ben burst out laughing.

"I really missed you, Pete"

"I didn't"

Ben punched Kaine's arm, "Shut"

"You dick-" he unsheathed the spikes in his inner wrists. Everyone but Peter and Ben gasped.

"No fighting in the hotel room. We do not have the money to pay for damages!"

"Dude," Flash, who still sometimes had trouble keeping his fanboy tendencies internalized, stared at Kaine’s arms with sparkling eyes, “you got different powers?”

“Huh?” Kaine stopped as he held Ben in a headlock, Peter trying to pry his arms away from Ben’s neck, “I mean, I think I’m the only one with extra features,” Flash’s question distracted him enough for the other two to free themselves, “motherfuckers,” he muttered, “anyways, Ben was the first success, made the fruit loop realize Peter was Spider-Man and dude went ‘You know what would be funny?’ and made me,” he scratched his head.

“Ok,” Harry clapped his hands, calling attention to himself, “Peter, explain,” he demanded, pointing towards his friend.

“Oh! Right. Remember Miles Warren?”

“The Jackal?” Flash questioned.

“See, yes, but that’s what most people remember about him. He was also our- well, mine and Gwen’s- sophomore year biology professor”

“Oh my- of course he was…” Harry raised his hands to massage his temples.

“Parker Luck strikes again, huh, tiger?”

“Well, it gets worse”

“Not helpful, Ben”

“Who said I was trying to be?”

Peter shot his clone a look that rivaled the one men saw on Medusa before getting turned to stone, “Anyway,” he picked the story back up, “Warren became weirdly obsessed with me and Gwen. We never figured out why-”

“Because he’s a pervert, that’s why,” Kaine also received one of Peter’s looks, and held his hands up in surrender.

“But he used to make us work together all the time, keep us after class, all kinds of weird things. Then, one day, we found petri dishes with our names on it, vials, syringes. All the stereotypical things of a creepy, evil scientist’s laboratory”

“And a few days later, I pop up,” Ben interjected.

“And try to kill us”

“Well, mostly you. But in my defence I was convinced you were an impostor who had taken over my life while I was in a coma”

“I don’t blame you,” Peter responded, “it was a convincing enough lie he got me to believe it too for a while…”

“What even is your life?” Flash asked in disbelief.

“You haven’t even heard about me, yet,” Kaine smirked, getting more comfortable on the couch so that he could see everyone’s faces.

“How did you figure out who the clone even was?” MJ, beautiful, intelligent MJ asked, falling headfirst into one of the most stressful events of Peter’s life.

“I didn’t,” he said.

“Gwen did,” Ben finished.

“Though we look the same and share a lot of memories, we don’t share all of them nor all of our genetic make up”

“There are differences in our DNA”

“For Warren it was easy to implant fake Peter Parker memories inside the clones”

“It was a bit harder to do so with Spider-Man memories”

“Of course, once he figured out the Peter Parker equals Spider-Man equation, he remedied the best he could”

“But there are things Peter told basically no one about Spider-Man related things”

“At least at the time!” Peter rushed in to defend himself, “I’m better at it now. Still, this was information not available to the general public, so Gwen quickly realized that the ‘headaches’ ‘I’ was getting-”

“-were actually me not knowing what his Spider-sense was or how it worked”

“He also didn’t know the Spider-webs formula”

“Which is something that this dork has memorised since he was 14”

“What about Kaine, then?” Flash asked.

“Remember how I got my powers?” Peter asked in lieu of responding.

“Yes,” Harry said, not meeting anyone’s eyes, “your parents were working at Oscorp under the impression of finding a cure for degenerative diseases, but my father was actually getting them to attempt to recreate a form of the supersoldier serum”

Peter nodded, “And I don’t know what, but something possessed my dad to use himself as guinea pig numero uno. The serum worked, but only for me”

“And Kaine fits in all this how?” Flash, beautiful, confused Flash asked.

“Warren was cut from the same cloth,” Peter relaxed again, “he figured ‘hey, I have Spider-Man DNA and a reliable way of cloning him and indoctrinating said clones. Let’s make an army’ -didn’t even take the chance to try and clone Gwen, luckily- and Kaine is what came out of that”

“He manipulated my genetic makeup enough that I had additional powers and wasn’t convinced I was actually Peter,” Kaine explained, “but he still had enough control over me that he managed to convince me I needed to kill Peter and the failed clone”

“And…?” Harry prompted.

Kaine sighed, “You’d be surprised how powerful uncle Ben’s words and influence on your life are, even if it’s just memories”

“Wouldn’t be the first time memories of uncle Ben reformed a villain,” Ben chuckled.

“Oh, FUCK,” Peter jerked up, suddently, startling everyone, “guys, does Doc Ock count as a clone of mine?” he asked, ignoring the questioning looks of his friends and the whispered ‘what’s, as he looked at Ben and Kaine stare at him emotionless for a few seconds.

“Yes,” they responded in unison.

“Fuck”

Kaine and Ben both burst out laughing.

#Spider-man #Spider-man fanfiction #Spider-man clones #kaine parker #ben reilly #peter parker #coffee gang

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kitewithfish · 1 year

Text

Wednesday Reading Meme April 5 2023

What I've Read A Restless Truth - Freya Marske - Second in a series and I bring that up because the people I read who started this book did so without KNOWING that it was the second in a series. (It holds its own but a lot of the background does not make sense).

I really enjoyed this book - the main characters got to do some whacky and hilarious stuff in the midst of quite a serious investigation with high stakes. The sapphic love story is a delight but they are far from perfect people, and I think overall, I enjoyed this more than the first book. I found Maud to be a bit more relatable than Robin, the POV character for most of the first book, but I also just adored Violet and all her showy, prickly ways. Third book comes out this fall.

(I think that The Locked Tomb series may have unlocked something in my brain that really enjoys series, and having to wait for another feels like a gift of future pleasure rather than a punishment for not being a single book.)

Fanfic I've read

cacio e pepe by serephemeral - https://archiveofourown.org/works/21845440 - I adored this "Some Like it Hot" continuation. After movie ends with "Well, nobody's perfect!" Daphe, who is still sometimes Jerry, runs off into the sunset with Osgood. And Joe, and Sugar. The future doesn't look anything like they planned but it's amazing none the less. Kudos to schneefink for reccing this, I would never have found it otherwise and it's officially my favorite Some Like It Hot fic.

Polite Company by spicedrobot - https://archiveofourown.org/works/37924555 - Star Wars Prequels and Clone Wars Cartoon. Maul isn't a very good Jedi. Obi-Wan isn't a very good Sith. They make it work, after the kidnapping.

What I'm Reading

Mexican Gothic - Silvia Moreno-Garcia - 23% - A re-read for me for the Discord book club. Super creepy and really readable.

The Gothic: A Very Short Introduction - Nick Groom - 39% - This is my first time reading the "very short introduction" books and it's really interesting! Pulling together some threads about English history and this aesthetic mode that have never quite tied themselves together in my head.

Also, I had re-watched Crimson Peak this week, and it was a fascinating re-watch! I caught so much more of the symbolism around Edith's clothing and Lucille's cryptic statements about their mother. I liked Thomas a lot less on this re-watch, before the ending, but I think I saw more of his wistful attempt to escape. I also totally did NOT remember how much Edith's writing shapes the early edges of her relationship with Thomas - he first is interested in her because of her writing! When he's trying to break her heart, he attacks her writing

The Traitor Baru Cormorant - Seth Dickinson - 19% - A re-read before I get into the rest of the books for fun. I'm listening to the audiobook and the narrator, who I will not name, is pronouncing "duchy" wrong for the entire book. (So that it rhymes with "cootchie") and I'm solidering bravely on. I forgot how much of the book is just "terrified lesbian of color gradually sells people out for safety and the promise of future power" and ooooh, man, it's good.

Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection - Julia Kristeva - This is a very navel-gazing literary theory book that makes me realize all afresh that I have real problems with Freudian framing for everything, BUT, it is cited by every major work on horror that I have read. It's French, it's slow, it's worth a read but it's going to be a slog.

True Colors - Karen Traviss - 23% - static

Too Like The Lightning - Ada Palmer - Static

Underline the Black by not_poignant https://archiveofourown.org/works/41396784 - Probably going to return to this when it's finished. On Earth as It Is in Heaven by samyazaz https://archiveofourown.org/works/833193 - Soulmate AU of Vikings - You don't need to know anything other than the first season or a vague sense of how history went down

What I'll Read Next

The Calculating Stars - Xing Book Club Babel - Looks like it will on the Hugos list eventually, I'm trying to get out ahead of things

Owned and need to read: California Bones, Raven Song by IA Ashcroft, Kraken's Sacrifice by Katee Robert, Even Though I Know the End by CL Polk, At The Feet of the Sun by Victoria Goddard, Tamryn Eradani's Enchanting Encounters Books 2 and 3, Like Real People Do by EL Massey, Tom Stoppard, invention of love. Smoke Gets in Your Eyes by Caitlin Doughty, "You Just Need to Lose Weight" and Other Myths about Fatness by Aubrey Gordon, Alisha Rai Partners in Crime, the Right Swipe, Aphorisms of Kerishdar

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time). big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights for this specific imagery

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado.

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right.

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch.

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation.

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

[email protected] just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song.

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries.

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons.

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him.

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough.

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second.

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?”

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red.

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles.

A small smirk makes its way onto your face.

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there.

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them.

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground.

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder.

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats.

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand.

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under.

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place. He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it.

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt.

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then.

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower.

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place.

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them.

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.”

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine.

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack.

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door.

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind.

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel.

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited.

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist.

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest.

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.”

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment.

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind.

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.”

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing.

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly.

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this.

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Note

OOOOOO, I really like your writing and u asked for prompts. So, maybe u could do a really shy!reader or mute!reader with peter? I think that be cute! Or you can do it with tom since u said once that you like writing for tom more :)

secret language

Pairing: Peter Parker x Mute!Reader

Synopsis: a study in the silence that comes when two people understand each other

Masterlist

You sat alone at on a bench on your first day of kindergarten, feeling intimidated by the noise and spectacle of it all. You hugged your backpack to your chest, wishing the day could go faster so you could fo home.

Then he came up to you.

“Hi. I’m Peter.” A curly haired boy pulled the seat out next to you and sat down. You waved at Peter and put your backpack on the table, deciding to give him a chance.

“Do you have a name?” Peter asked, and you nodded your head. You took his hand and laid his palm flat, carefully writing your name with your finger.

“Wait, do it again.” Peter requested, watching your every move intently. You wrote your name again on his palm and he titled his head, staring at his hand like the word would be written there.

“Y/n?” He looked up at you once he figured it out. “Am I saying it right?”

You nodded happily and pointed to yourself before giving him a thumbs up. Peter smiled proudly and looked at his hand again.

“Do you not talk?” He wondered, making you shake your head no.

“That’s okay.” Peter shrugged. “Sometimes I don’t like to talk either.”

Peter began to swing his legs, looking around the classroom in awe before his eyes fell on Aunt May, who was talking to the teacher.

“Is your mommy still here?” He turned to you to ask. You nodded and pointed to your mom, who was laughing with one of the single dads.

“She’s pretty. Her shoes are so tall!” Peter exclaimed as he pointed at her high heels. You laughed silently, smiling to show that you agreed. Peter smiled back at you, several teeth in the front row missing. His smile faded suddenly as he looked down at his lap.

“My parents just died.” He confessed to you. “Uncle Ben said they’re in heaven. I tried to look for Heaven on the map on the subway, but I couldn’t find it. Do you know where it is?”

You shook your head and Peter sighed.

“Me either.” He said, pouring a little as he slumped in his seat. You sat in silence for a moment until you heard a little noise from Peter.

“I miss my mommy.” He said quietly, his voice sounding weak.

Your eyes filled with sympathy for Peter as you stuck your bottom lip out. Peter watched you curiously as you reached out your hand, taking his little one in your own and squeezing it three times. Peter gasped a little, looking up at you with wide eyes as you gave him a gentle smile. It reminded him of what his mother used to do when he was scared, three squeezes to say three words.

I. Love. You.

Aunt May didn’t know about their little ritual, so when Peter squeezed her hand three times as they lowered his mom into the ground, she didn’t squeeze back. It made Peter wonder if anyone would tell him they loved him in the secret language ever again. But here you were, squeezing his hand to let him know it was okay.

“Thank you.” He smiled, his eyes no longer glassy. “I love you too.”

You smiled at him and he noticed that were missing teeth too. Peter pointed to your mouth and laughed before pointing to his own. You both doubled over on the bench (I was over on the bench) in a fit of laughter, as if you had reached the very apex of comedy with missing teeth and gaps in your smiles.

You and Peter spent the day together, communicating though words written on his palm or on a piece of paper. He found it very easy to understand you, even when you didn’t speak. He liked your quiet company far better than the loud children in the class, knocking over blocks and crying over toys. You were different, and Peter liked different.

At the end of the day, Peter saw his family and grabbed your hand, running towards them with you in tow.

“Aunt May! Uncle Ben! I made a friend. She’s a mule.” Peter proudly presented you to his aunt and uncle. You smiled politely at them as they shared a confused look.

“What sweetie?” Aunt May asked as she crouched down a little. In the mean time, your mother had spotted you holding hands with Peter and made her way over.

“Mute. Y/n is a selective mute.” Your mother explained as she came up behind you. “Hi, I’m her mother.”

“Like on a remote!” Peter cheered as the adults shook hands. “Can she come over?”

“Is that alright with her mommy?” Uncle Ben looked at your mother for permission.

“Sure.” Your mother complied. “If you give her a piece of paper, she can write some words down. I’ll give you my number just in case.”

“She doesn’t need paper.” Peter shook his head. “We can already talk, look.”

Peter held you your enjoined hands and squeezed yours three times. You squeezed back, making him grin.

“See? She said she loves me.” He exclaimed, letting your hands drop back to your sides.

“That’s so cute. I was so worried about her making friends. She stopped speaking after her father passed.” Your mother quietly explained to May and Ben.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Peters parents just passed as well.” May said sympathetically while Ben watched the two of you. A complicit smile sat on his lips as he saw his nephew genuinely smile for the first time since his parents died.

“My condolences.” Your mother touched May’s arm kindly.

“Thank you.” May put her hand over your mother’s. “It’s been really difficult for him. It’s been so long since he-“

She was cut off by Peter laughing loudly at something you didn’t say, but conveyed. Tears brimmed in her eyes as you wrote something on Peter’s palm, something that made him light up like the forth of July.

“Since he’s been happy.” She finished.

“Lucky they found each other, huh?” Your mother smiled fondly as she watched you and Peter play, earning a nod from May.

And lucky you were.

Over the next few years, you and Peter developed a secret language entirely comprised of soft touches, expressive looks and squeezes. It was a dialect that only existed between the two of you, and that was how you liked it.

“Welcome, students, to your first day of high school. My name is Mrs. Ingrid, I’ll be your english teacher this year. I’d like us to go around the room and say your name and what you did this summer.”

You looked at Peter with panicked eyes as tired groans echoed around the classroom. It was your very first period of your very first day and you were already freaking out. Peter gave you a gentle smile as he reached across his desk and took your hand, giving it three solid squeezes.

“It’s okay.” He assured you. “I got you.”

“Mr. Parker.” Mrs. Ingrid said suddenly. “Since you’re talking, would you like to go first?”

“O-Okay.” Peter stuttered as he stood up from his desk. “My name is Peter Parker. This summer I watched all the Star Wars movies in a row without breaking to sleep.”

“Thank you for sharing.” She nodded curtly and turned to you, as you were seated next to Peter. “Ms. L/n, you can go next.”

“This is-“ Peter began.

“I believe she can speak for herself.” Mrs. Ingrid snapped, narrowing her eyes at Peter. You looked at Peter with eyes full of guilt as you unintentionally made him get off on the wrong foot with the teacher. You expected Peter to be scared, but his face showed that he was perfectly calm.

“Actually she can’t, ma’am.” Peter said politely. “This is Y/n L/n and she’s mute. She also spent her summer watching the Star Wars movies but she fell asleep sometime between Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith.”

Surprised murmurs swept though the crowd at the mention of the word “mute”. It was something the students hadn’t been exposed to yet and you felt the individual pricks as they sunk their teeth into it. Knowing the pantomime spotlight was being shone on you, you turned to the class and gave a weak smile.

“My apologies.” Mrs. Ingrid said shortly. “I forgot we had a disabled student this year. Thank you, Peter. And welcome Y/n.”

She turned her back to the class to hide the flush of embarrassment as a student called her out, but Peter had more to say.

“It’s not a disability.” He spoke up, shrinking in his seat when everyone’s eyes went to him.

“I’m sorry?” Mrs. Ingrid turned around with an unamused grin.

“Well, Y/n is mute because of an anxiety disorder.” Peter explained. “She physically has the ability to speak, but she mentally feels like she can’t. She doesn’t see it as a disability.”

“Did she tell you that?” Flash, a boy with his name stitched onto the pocket of his shirt, asked from somewhere behind the room, making the whole room laugh at you.

The whole room except Peter

Peter turned around in his seat and glared at Flash, armed and ready to defend you if needed.

“Yes, she did.” Peter stated. “She tells me everything.”

Flash snickered and rolled his eyes as Peter turned around in his seat. Other students continues to gawk at you, as if your mutism could be seen on the outside. Your face flamed red until you felt Peters hand on your shoulder, squeezing it three times to calm you down.

“I apologize, Y/n.” Mrs. Ingrid smiled at you. “Would the next student like to go?”

You walked home once the day had ended with Peter by your side, quietly thinking to yourself as he talked about his science class.

“Anyways.” He paused time catch his breath as he finished his story. “How was your day?”

You looked at him sideways before grabbing his hand and writing an “E” on his palm.

“Come on. English wasn’t that bad.” He insisted, grimacing a little when you glared at him. You made a gesture of a circle before sharply pointing at yourself.

“I know. But I bet everyone had a moment today where they felt like everyone was staring at them.” Peter tried to assure you but you rolled your eyes.

“Tomorrow will be better.” Peter said decidedly. “That Flash kid is so annoying though. How many classes do you have with him?”

You held up three fingers and Peters eyes widened in sympathy.

“Three?” He gasped. I’m so sorry. Hopefully he was just trying to show off for the first day.”

You shrugged a little and pantomimed popping your collar, to which Peter laughed.

“Right?” Peter exclaimed. “Why does he dress like a mobsters son?”

Your shoulders moved up and down as you silently laughed with him, nearing your apartment building now.

“We should do something to celebrate our first day.” Peter decided. “What do you want?”

You looked at him and raised your eyebrows, a smile appearing on his face as he caught your drift.

“You read my mind.” He sighed happily and he shifted the weight of his backpack to his other shoulder. “Coffee ice cream and Impractical Jokers it is.”

You put your hands over your heart and made a dreamy expression, to which Peter let out a groan.

“Stop it.” He laughed though a whine. “You’re the only one who thinks Sal is hot.”

You shoved him playfully as you entered the lobby of your building, making a face he knew all too well.

“I’m not having this argument with you again.” He wagged his finger in your face as he pushed the elevator button. You pouted and took his hand, writing out an expletive on his palm.

“Don’t use that tone with me young lady.” Peter feigned a gasp as he held his hand to his chest. You gave him an unamused look as he laughed at his own joke.

“Hey. “ He said suddenly as he took your hand. “Happy first day.”

You reluctantly smiled at his newfound sentimentality and squeezed his hand three times, for for each word.

“Mrs. Ingrid.” Flash’s hand shot up one November morning. “When we present the projects tomorrow, can Brian present mine?”

“No, Eugene.” She sighed, a snicker coming from the class as he used his first name. “Every student must do their own presentation.”

“Then how come Y/n doesn’t have to do one?” He asked spitefully, making everyone look at you. You looked to Peter for help, who was already turned in his seat to face Flash.

“You know why she doesn’t.” He said dully, tired of Flash’s unjustified vendetta against you.

“Well I don’t think it’s fair that she gets special treatment.” Flash short back, making some students “ooo” and agree.

“It’s not special treatment. Y/n is mute, Flash. You, on the other hand, have made it very clear that you are not.” Peter sassed, making the class laugh. Flash’s face turned red in embarrassment as he looked around the room for help.

“Selective mute.” He emphasized. “That means she can talk if she wanted to. You said so on the first day, Penis Parker.”

“It’s not like a light switch she can turn on and off, Flash. She doesn’t feel like she has a choice. Leave her alone.” Peter barked, getting up out of his seat now.

“If she wants me to leave her alone, she should tell me herself.” Flash snapped, getting up as well. You looked between the two boys with fearful eyes, tugging on Peters sleeve to get him to back down.

“What’s your problem?” Peter asked angrily. “What are you, jealous because she’s never spoken in this class yet still outperforms you?”

The class laughed at Peters insult, only making Flash angrier.

“I’d like to see how well she’d do without you as her interpreter.” He yelled as he pointed a finger at Peter.

“That’s enough.” Mrs. Ingrid slammed her hands on her desk. “Both of you, sit down. Y/n will be doing a power point presentation. End of discussion.”

“Yeah, that’s enough Eugene.” Peter hissed as he took his seat.

“That’ll be all, Peter.” Mrs. Ingrid narrowed her eyes at your best friend. “If this continues, I’ll have to request that the three of you be separated and put into different classes.”

“Why should Y/n and I be separated just because Flash is a dick?” Peter asked, eyes widened when he realized what he said. The students laughed at the sound of a curse word, even if it was one the uses on a daily. You looked at Peter scornfully and tapped his desk twice, communicating with him to calm down.

“Mr. Parker. I’ll be seeing you in detention.” Mrs. Ingrid stated. “Everyone, take out your textbooks and turn to page 117.”

You put your textbook on your desk and looked at Peter, giving him a sympathetic pout for getting him in trouble. You reached over and took his hand, squeezing it twice to apologize.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He whispered to you. “Detention is a small price to pay for getting to call Flash a dick to his face.”

You squeezed his hand again and tilted your head to the side, making him shake his head at you.

“No, it’s not your fault.” Peter insisted.” It was mine. I interrupted the class, not you. Don’t worry about me.”

You sighed and brushed the side of your nose with your thumb, causing Peter to smile.

“I know.” He said softly. “I always worry about you too.”

You found Peter waiting for you at your locker at the end of the school day, bouncing with excitement to tell you a story from his algebra class. You listened intently as you collected your books, linking your arm through his once you were done. You walked past Mrs. Ingrids classroom and heard someone clear their throat, making you both stop in your tracks.

“Going somewhere, Mr. Parker?” She asked as she appeared in the doorway, arms folded and glasses perched on the lower part of her nose bridge.

“Shoot. I forgot I have detention.” Peter groaned before turning to you. “Do you mind waiting?”

You pointed behind you with your thumb and shrugged as Peter chewed his lip nervously.

“Are you sure? What if somebody asks you for directions?” He worried, not liking the idea of you walking home by yourself. You looked at him like he was silly and pointed your finger in both directions, signally that you could just point someone in the right direction of the asked.

“Well what if the directions are really complex?” Peter added, coming up with any excuse he could think of. You made a gesture that Mrs. Ingrid didn’t understand, but seemed to make all the sense in the world to Peter.

“You’re right. You don’t need a babysitter.” He agreed. “Do you want to meet back in my room at 4?”

You nodded and took his books from him so you could drop them off in his room.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” He promised as you took his hand and squeezed it three times.

“I love you too.” He smiled, giving you three squeezes before walking in the direction of the detention room. Mrs. Ingrid watched him until he disappeared around a corner, turning to you once he was gone.

“You and Peter, are you two together?” She questioned, making you shake your head. She smiled a little, looking amused as she took off her glasses and rubbed them on her shirt.

“Someone should tell him that.” She chuckled, sliding her glasses back on her face. You put your hand over your heart and rubbed it in a circle, the first gesture Mrs. Ingrid understood.

“I see.” She nodded. “You have a nice day now, Y/n. Get home safe.”

You smiled in appreciation at her before waving goodbye, walking out the doors of the school and towards your building.

You tucked your thumbs under the straps of your backpack as you walked, taking every precaution to step over the cracks in the sidewalk as you approached them.

“Hey, Hellen Keller, wait up.”

You froze for a moment when you heard Flash’s voice behind you before quickly picking up your pace. Unfortunately, he had the same idea and ran to catch up with you, grabbing your arm and forcing you to turn around when he got there.

“I was talking to you. Are you deaf too now?” He snickered devilishly as you pulled your arm out of his grasp. You kept walking, but he fell into a stride right beside you.

“So how does it work? Can you and Peter read each other’s thoughts? Does he ever think about me?” Flash batted his eyelashes but you ignored him. You swallowed nervously as you began to wish you had just waited for Peter.

“Come on, Y/n. You should take my interest in you as a compliment.” Flash smirked, making you roll your eyes. “I wanna hear you speak.”

Your unbreaking silence woke up something animalistic in Flash, making him grab both your arms and pushing you into a vacant alley. He pressed you against a wall, gripping both your arms so tight, you were sure they’d bruise.

“Didn’t you hear me? Say something.” He bellowed, getting right in your face as he screamed. You turned your face away and grimaced, fidgeting to get out of his grasp.

“Fine.” He laughed in a way that made your blood turn cold. “You don’t want to talk? Then I wanna hear you scream.”

Your eyes widened as he threw you to the ground, your body skidding on the pavement as you moved. He stalked up to you like a Brute, towering over you as you held up a hand.

“Where’s your little boyfriend now?” He asked, raising his fist above your head. A scream ripped through your throat as his fist came down, never making contact with your face. You opened your eyes slowly and saw him wiping his hands, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

“That’s what I thought. See you tomorrow. Can’t wait to see your PowerPoint.” He quipped, spitting on the ground next to you before leaving. Once you were sure he was gone, you sat up. Your hands went to your elbow first, as you felt blood tricking from an open wound. It wasn’t anything serious, just a scrape and a friction burn. Your hands then traveled to your neck, fingers resting over your vocal chords. You hadn’t heard a sound come from your mouth in 10 years, not even a laugh. The scream that came from your mouth was different from screams you’d heard in movies. It was deeper and hollow, as if it came from an animal. Tears stung your eyes as you got up, body aching from hitting the ground. You looked around the corner before continuing your way home, looking over your shoulder every so often out of fear.

You cleaned your elbow up in Peters bathroom, sticking a few Paw Patrol bandaids to the cut as you waiting for him to come home. You ended up falling asleep on his bed, only waking up when he came in a quarter last five.

“Hey sleepy head. I’m sorry I’m late.” He spoke in a hushed tone as he knelt beside his bed. “Mrs. Ingrid made me write on the board 100 times like Bart Simpson. Did you get back okay?”

You nodded as you sat up, slowly opening your sleep heavy eyes. Peter smiled as he smoothed the hair that was sticking up on either side of your part, smile fading when he took a closer look at your face.

“What happened? Have you been crying?” He worried as he cupped your face, turning it slightly to get a better look. Taking a deep breath to brace for Peters reaction, you held out your arm. He caught sight of the bandaids almost instantly, looking at you in disbelief before gently examining your arm.

“Who did this to you?” He demanded as he carefully twisted your arm to see the full extent of the wound. You weakly pantomimed a popped collar, seeing the anger in Peters eyes grow as he understood.

“Fucking Flash.” He stood up abruptly and slammed his hand on his wall. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you walk home alone.”

You got up and went over to him, shaking your head sympathetically.

“I did too have a choice.” He disagreed. “People skip detention all the time. How could I let this happen?” He asked, more so to himself as he sat on the bed. He put his head in his hands, hiding out of the shame he felt. You took a seat beside him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders while resting your head on his body. You tapped his leg four times, making him bring his head out of his heads to shake it.

“It is my fault.” He told you. “I provoked him in English and that’s why he went after you. I should’ve been there. I’m so sorry.”

You pouted and took his chin between your fingers, squeezing his arm twice with your free hand.

“It’s not okay!” He yelled. “He’s been targeting you since day one. I bet he planned this. He’s probably been waiting to get you along. Did he hurt you anywhere else? Oh god, did he touch you?” Peter could barely see past his disgust long enough to get the words, turning a little green as the worst case scenario played in his mind. You frantically shook your head and Peter calmed down just a little.

“He’s lucky. He’d be a dead man if he did.” Peter stated assertively. You tilted your head and gave him a disapproving look that he read in seconds.

“How am I overreacting?” He asked. “You’re hurt! He hurt you! Screw this - I’m gonna kill him.” He got up again and heading towards the door. You sprung up from the bed and threw your arms around him from behind, stopping him in his tracks. You squeezed his tightly, resting your chin on his shoulder as you held him back. He struggled to break out of your grasp until he heard a strangled sound emit from your throat. As distorted and muffled as it was, Peter knew was you were trying to say.

“Stay.”

He hung his head in shame, knowing it scared you when he raised his voice. He put his hands over yours, which had been resting on his chest.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, keeping his eyes down. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. You know I worry about you.”

You slowly withdrew your hands and turned him around, taking his face in your hands and making him look at you.

“I know you don’t need me to protect you. Is it wrong that I still want too?” He smiled weakly as he leaned into your palms. You shook your head and moved your hands down to his shoulders, shrugging a little to tell him you didn’t mind.

“I’m walking you home tomorrow.” He promised as he pulled you into a hug. “And everyday for the rest of my life.”

You patted his back four times, making his body shake with laughter.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Sounds good to me too.”

You entered Peters room a little over a year later after receiving a frantic text. The text contained exactly one word, “ouchie”, and the rest was gibberish. Peters wise eyes met yours and you smiled at him, smile fading as your eyes trailed down his body. He was clad in nothing but his boxers and one single sock, glistening with sweat from head to toe. Your best friends lean and scrawny body that you has seen hundreds of times since your childhood was replaced with broad shoulders and solid muscle, features that made your face burn all the way to your ears. That wasn’t what shocked you, though. What shocked you was the series of papers, pens, shirts, and granola bars that were sticking to his body as if adhered with glue.

“Whats happening to me?” He screamed, tugging at a Nature Valley bar sticking to his nipple. You held back a laugh when you saw how scared he looked and approached him slowly like a deer in the woods. You reached out a hand but he backed away as if you might burn him.

“Don’t.” He croaked. “You’ll stick too and I don’t…I don’t want to hurt you.”

You waved your hand in dismissal and reached out again, placing a cool hand on Peters burning cheek. His eyes shut in tranquillity as he leaned into your hand, letting your touch calm him as it had done so many times in the past.

You peeled a shirt off his shoulder and plucked a pencil off his thigh as his breathing slowed down. You cupped his face in your hands and looked at him, wordlessly asking him to tell you what happened.

“I went to Oscorp yesterday and this spider bit me and I woke up really sweaty - and I mean really sweaty - and then I got super hungry so I went ham on granola bars - and I’m talking ape shit Y/n I didn’t even chew I just went feral on those crumbly bitches - and then things kept sticking to me and I don’t know what to do and-“

You acted on a whim and pulled Peters face towards yours, kissing him firmly on the lips. The only noise in the room was the sound of pens and granola bars hitting the ground as they slowly unstuck from his body. Peter places a gentle hand on your face as he kissed you back. You pulled away, feeling his eyelashes tickle your face as his eyes fluttered open.

“And you just kissed me.” He laughed slightly, pace significantly slower now. You gave him a knowing look and shrugged a little, making him laugh.

“You’re right.” He realized. “You didn’t stick.”

You wrapped your arms around Peters neck and pressed your forehead against his, letting silence fill the room as he held you.

“I don’t know what this means. I’m…I’m scared.” He whispered as he nuzzled against you. You shook your head a little, telling him he didn’t have to be scared. Moving your head up to look at you, you took his face between your hands and kissed his lips three times in a row. After the third kiss, a cheeky smile lingered on Peters lips.

“I love you too.” He told you, grinning widely before kissing you again.

You laid on Peters chest, a few years out of college now. His shirt was riding up a little, exposing bare skin that served as your canvas. A shy smile made on a home on your face as you traced letters on his skin.

“What was that?” He asked when he felt your touch but couldn’t make out your words. “Say it again.”

You chuckled a little at his phrasing, and he did too. In accordance to his request, you wrote your sentence again, taking your time with the curve of each letter. Peter furrowed his eyebrows a little as he propped himself up on his elbows, a little annoyed with himself for not being able to decipher what you were saying. He prided himself on being fluent in your secret language, so the only possible answer was that whatever you were writing now was something you had never written before.

“Wait, do it again.” He asked, determined to crack the code. You sat up on your elbow as well, looking at him through your lashes as you traced the words again.

“I’m convinced this is gibberish.” Peter shook his head through a chuckle, looking at curiously to see if you were messing with him. You let out a tiny whine as you stuck your bottom lip out, patting his chest twice to tell him to try harder.

“Fine, fine. Try again. But go slowly.”

You sucked in a breath and held your fingernail to his skin, slowly tracing the first word.

“Will?” He asked, grinning when you nodded and continued to write.

“You?” He looked to you for confirmation. “Will you?”

You nodded again, feeling butterflies now and you moved to the next word.

“Many?” He questioned. You shook your head repeatedly, anxious for him to figure it out. You wrote it again and saw it click for him.

“Ohh. Marry.” He smiled, proud of himself for getting it. His eyes met yours and all at once, he understood why he couldn’t figure it out before.

No one fault really, you just never proposed to him before.

“Wait.” His lips curved into a smile as he cupped your chin with his hand.

“Do it again.” He asked, unable to contain his excitement as you repeated your actions.

“One more time.” He pleaded, eyes filling with tears now. “I know what it is, I just want to feel it again.”

You wrote it again, writing it on every exposed part of his body now. You proposed on his arm, his chest, his leg and his bicep, a man excited squeal leaving his throat each time you did it.

“Give me your hand.” He fully sat up now, wrapping his arms around you and taking your hand in his. He opened your hand and flattened your palm, bringing his finger to your skin.

“Y-E-S.” He spelled out loud as he wrote on your palm. “Yes. I will marry you.”

Smoothing your dress with a shaking hand, you turned to your mom for last minute adjustments before you walked down the isle. She smiled widely as she touched up your hair, handing you your bouquet once she was satisfied.

“Are you ready?” She asked. “That’s a dumb question. You’ve been ready for this since kindergarten.”

Nodding at your mothers words of encouragements, you nervously clutched your bouquet of sunflowers and roses, yours and Peters favorite flowers.

“You’re so lucky to have found each other.” Your mother smiled fondly as she dusted off your shoulders. “To understand someone the way you do, it’s rare. Your father would be proud.”

Emotion overcame you as you pulled your mother into a hug, thanking her the only way you could for getting you that far. The vamping of the organ signaled to you that it was time to go, all your nervously butterflies turning into petals of excitement. Your mother gave you an assuring smile as she slipped her hand into yours, both of you facing forward now as the doors opened.

Everyone turned to look at you, a welcome gesture this time around, as you made your way down the isle. You made eye contact with Peter, who had a hand clamped over his mouth to hide his emotions. He wiped tears from his eyes as Ned patted his back, silently willing you to come faster down the isle. In his mind, you couldn’t walk fast enough. He was not interested in spending one more minute as just your boyfriend. As you got closer to the alter, you waved at the Avengers who had put on their best suits to attend your big day.

And finally, you made your way to Peter.

You whole life had been about making your way to Peter, and now, dressed in white, you had arrived. You handed your bouquet to your mother and accepted Peters hand to help you step onto the alter. Peter sniffled a little as he took your hands in his, overwhelmed in the moment by your beauty.

The priest began to speak, but you didn’t hear much. All you could focus on was your childhood best friend, soon to be husband. Your palms sweat as the vows approached, an unfamiliar tickle resting in your throat.

“And now, the vows.” The priest handed the baton to you and Peter.

“Sunsets, flowers, and you. Three beautiful things that don’t make any noise. I believe some of the most wonderful things a human being can experience happen in silence. I believe that because of you.” Peters voice cracked momentarily. “I stand before you today as someone who is permanently subscribed to your silence. I look forward to a lifetime of knowing looks and written messages on the palm of my hand. I never knew how much could be said through three simple squeezes of my hand, but it feels like my entire life has happened since the first time you touched me and the last. Though your voice has never fallen on my ears, I’m confident I could identify it anywhere. You and I have created something incredible rare, a silence that only comes when two people truly know each other. And I know you. I am blessed to say I know you. I have never heard you speak, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hear you. I hear you in the early hours of the morning when the birds begin to chirp. I hear you when the blood rushes to my face because you looked at me in a certain way. I hear you when the music swells in my favorite song, and I hear you in every beat of my heart. I won’t tell you I’ll love you until death do us part, because even the jaws of death couldn’t end my love for you. I will just find you in the next life, and the one after that. Nothing could keep me away.”

You touched delicate fingers to your under eyes as you dabbed away tears, squeezing Peters hands three times to thank him for his beautiful words. Now the spotlight had once again returned to you and this time, you were ready.

“Peter.”

Peters eyes widened in astonishment before brimming with tears as your voice fell on his ears for the very first time. It wasn’t perfect after so many years of being unused, but it was yours. That’s what made it Peter’s favorite thing in the world. He bent over and rested his forehead on your enjoyed hands, almost like he was bowing to you. He stayed there for a moment before standing up again, his face full of emotion. You knew he was composed enough for you to continue, so you did.

“I shut my mouth when I was 5 and I didn’t think I was going to open it ever again. But then I met you.” You broke into a smile. You spoke slowly, taking deep breaths every few words. “There is no other way I would want to use my voice than to tell you that I love you. I have always loved you.” You sucked in a deep breath as you got emotional. “My mom worried that I wouldn’t make any friends my first day of school, and I didn’t. I made a partner for life. It is one thing to be loved and another thing to be understood. You give me me both in three small squeezes. I love you, Peter.” You finished, punctuating your vows with three squeezes of his hands.

“I love you too.” He whispered, a steady flow of tears streaming down his face now.

“I love you more.” You said, verbally for the first time.

“Peter Parker, do you take Y/n L/n to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold in sickness and in health, till death do you part?” The priest asked.

“I do.”

“Y/n L/n, do you take Peter Parker to be your lawfully wedded husband? To cherish and honor, for better or for worse?”

“I do.”

“Oh my God.” Peter gushed, making the crowd laugh. Peter was still recovering from the fact that your first word was his name, and now you had said the two sacred words he’d been waiting his whole life to hear.

“By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife.” The priest smiled. “You may kiss the bride.”

Peter wasted no time in taking your face between his hands and kissing you, smiling with joy into the kiss as you officiated your marriage.

“You did so good baby.” He whispered against your lips as the crowd clapped for you.

“Thank you.” You giggled, proud of yourself for what you did. “I’ve been practicing with my therapist since the proposal.”

“It was amazing. That’s was the greatest surprise anyone’s ever given me. Even if it was just for today, I’m so happy I could hear your voice. I love you so much.” He told you before pulling you into a hug. You rested your head on his shoulder and held him tightly, thanking God that he came up to you that first day of kindergarten.

“I love you too.”

Tag List 🏷

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #Peter Parker x mute!reader #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #spiderman #marvel #iron man

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theshy1sout · 3 years

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Six Eared Shadow

Do you remember the analysis about Mei and Red Son? That was me, and I'm doing this again, but now about Macaque and Sun Wukong

Because what the heck why do they hate each other so much

Ok, so this... This is such a messy chaotic really chaotic mix of a few headcanons and theories I made up and it SOMEHOW turned into a fanfic that I wrote so long that other people made many similar things in meanwhile and now this sounds not original at all, but I wrote it not to keep it in my deep hidden shelf so here we go

(It's based on what I know from the lmk series. I've started to read JTTW, but I'm still not so far to get to know anything about Macaque, but I won't change anything about this theory from now on)

Let's gather some basic information for the start.

-> Macaque is made with a shadow or even he is a shadow (kinda shadow demon, the demon of shadow). I mean, shadow is not only his power, he literally is made with shadow matter. We know that because he can not only manipulate shadows but also go through walls and turn yourself into a shadow.

-> I'm not sure if someone made him or he just "poof" out of nowhere just like Sun Wukong, but according to the story he told about how close he and Monkey King used to be, there's no doubt they had some master/student relationship which later turned into almost equal partnership. What is said, Macaque followed Sun Wukong for a long time, learning a lot from him, 'being his shadow'. They grew in power together, fought together, and (as it is said) Macaque started casting as Sun Wukong shadow, which (surprisingly) looks like he did willingly. Just look at the picture - the shadow is big and bright, it’s powerful and smiling, proud of his strength. He doesn’t look like someone forced to be Sun Wukong’s shadow. It shows how much Macaque admired Monkey King, that he wasn't just a friend for him, he was his idol.

-> We all know Macaque is a shadow demon, he can easily change his appearance, he does not have to look like an evil clone of Monkey King, especially if he hates him now or something, SO even if he used to look up at Sun as his ex-student or ex-partner, and now we know he is NOT, he would prefer to not look so similar any more.

He can choose any other look, but he doesn't. Why? Well, maybe he actually cannot. Maybe this isn't an appearance he has specifically chosen, maybe this is his 'basic' comfy form and any other form would just take too much energy to keep up. And looking at the really tiny probability of two very similar monkeys just "poofing" out of nowhere, I dare to say, Macaque wasn't born (I mean like Sun Wukong or any other demon), but he was specifically created. And here is a question: on someone's purpose or not? Maybe the power of great Monkey King was so strong so the part of it just jumped from him and formed into another similar creature, but let me say it's just weird and I prefer the theory of Sun Wukong being so bored and lonely after his master's (Tripitaka) death, and he created a brother for himself from his own shadow. Just to have someone, anyone.

So Wukong created Macaque and then what? He trained him, he taught him everything he knew, maybe even he shared his powers with him. Some great great bonding time. But as Macaque said, something drew them apart. It is visible that Macaque blamed Monkey King for this, for 'forgetting him'. Before speculation of what happened then between them, let's focus on what Macaque showed us what he wants now.

We have two episodes, both show different sides of him. In season 1, Macaque's main goal is to steal Monkey King's power from Mk, and then to very specifically revenge. He visibly does not want to defeat Sun Wukong, he wants to hurt him as much as possible. Look: when Monkey King showed up, Macaque totally forgot about Mk. And then, when he's so close to defeat him, instead of that he turned to Mk and tried to kill the teenager. Mk is just a tool to hurt Sun Wukong.

And we can't forget how Macaque constantly pointed out all the weak sides of Sun, he's basically just saying on and on "you're weak, you're weak, you're so weak, I'm so strong, I'm strong, you are so weak". Which really fits the feeling of being forgotten because he was weaker and Monkey King was stronger, better, glorious and famous. Macaque really feels like that, he really tried to make Sun Wukong feel his pain by dominating him.

On the other hand, we see that Sun constantly striked off him. He said almost nothing to him, just "Aren't you bored of keep being in my shadow? It's time to give back what you've stolen" and that was fricking all. For Monkey King, Macaque is a just shadow, always behind him, something you turn around and leave behind to not see it and to forget, like an unwanted past. An unnecessary problem, that irritatingly keeps returning to him. He does not want to interact to not make even a slight more bond between them, he wants to delete him from his life forever, and omg WHY. At this end of the ep, Sun Wukong did not even mention Macaque. He really doesn't care at all (or extremely tries to not care). His HATE is almost touchable, ouch.

In season 2, Sun Wukong LEFT US ALL ALONE. Macaque showed up again, he played with Mk a bit, and... Left? That's the thing, you see, he doesn't need to hurt or kill Mk. All we see is Macaque talking about his past and then letting Mk experience something the 'hero' in the story should have felt. The guilt. When Mk interpreted his story differently, seeing himself as the warrior, Macaque corrected him. Cause he doesn't care about Mk at all. He heard how Mk told him about what hurt him, and here is a funny point, because if Macaque needs to be understood, listening to Mk and talking with him (such a simple act of empathy, they both needed it then, guh) should have been enough. Mk really felt the 'warrior' character in the story, so he understood what Macaque felt. But surprisingly, that was not what the demon carved.

Macaque chose to make Mk feel like Monkey King at the moment something drew the demons apart. He wanted to force Mk to be sorry, to apologize, to regret his mistakes, cause he failed with forcing Monkey King to feel that. But! Maybe he is not as purely innocent and poorly forlorn. We see the flashback for a half of second before Mk hit him with Staff:

We see Sun Wukong attacking Macaque who's in his demon (true) form.

Let's repeat this: Macaque felt as if a friend left him in the past. He said a friend did this to have all the "hero's glory" for themselves. We know Sun Wukong could do such a thing, especially before he met Tripitaka, but 1. In my theory Macaque is created after Tripitaka's death and 2. If (as my theory said) Sun created Macaque to not feel so lonely, he would never leave him for such a thing. So Macaque hides something for sure, something he did, something so terrible that made Sun Wukong attack him and not want to know him anymore. How horrendous thing Macaque did that made Sun Wukong choose to be alone again and to forget his dear brother he created by himself?

Back to the great bonding time, repeating speculation of "oh maybe they even share the powers" and comparing it to Macaque wanting to steal Mk's power, my theory here is saying:

Sun Wukong taught Macaque the technique of the same powers as he knew, but Macaque overused it (probably wanting to see how powerful he is, probably showing off and killing so many harmless people) doing terrible terrible things. So Monkey King took all of the powers from him and left him alone, powerless, with the last painful words: "Dont you dare to show in front of my eyes ever again". Of course Macaque was hurt, of course he didn't see why he's the bad guy, because he did not care about people at all. And of course Sun Wukong was hurt too.

Maybe he came back to the village Macaque had destroyed and following a quiet crying he found a little baby with a heart so clear and he put into him all Macaque's powers, making them sleep until the time will be right... But back to the series!

Yes exactly. Why did he destroy the lantern and leave? Why did he suddenly lose interest in teasing Mk and stop forcing him to feel guilty?

First thing, he saw Mk is ready to fight for his friends seriously. He still cared so much about them, not like Monkey King about Macaque. That was hard to swallow, that was hard to watch for the demon. That was't the thing he wanted to see. And second, the flashback. Maybe the sudden realization that he actually did something bad. Cause Sun Wukong didn’t just leave him, he cast him out. It was hard to admit that he actually deserved this (or maybe much more), it’s much easier to blame others, not yourself. So Macaque felt “that’s enough” and left. Mk brought him to this uncomfortable point of admitting the truth. Which he didn’t want to. Maybe in the following eps, he will see it, but now Macaque just isn’t ready yet. But the last talk with Mk gives me a little hope. He stopped treating him like a tool or toy, he was actually talking with him like with a person, he even warned him about Lady Bone Demon.

Maybe (maybe) one day he'll see that humans aren't just useless creatures he can carelessly kill, maybe Mk will make him care and realize what he's done, but that's just speculation in speculation, he could die before he reaches that point, maybe he is already dead....

And that's it. That is all I wrote on ao3, but in the fanfic I put much more details and I build those characters up much more than here. This is only rough rough short-saying, I'm really sorry if you read it all

Oh and here is a link if you liked this above i'd love if you read the fanfic thank you

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Vader Tries to Help

People encouraged me to share the dead dove concept! Yay! It’s a horrible concept with an undertone of comedic absurdity in the sense that you keep waiting to see what awful, incredibly stupid thing Vader is going to do next. Like it’s horrifying but it’s also very dumb.

By moving forward into the fic, you acknowledge that this is intended to be dark and liable to be upsetting, and that you are taking responsibility for your own engagement with the material.

This AU was helped along on discord by several parties but tbh I’m not sure how many of them actually want to be named.

Warnings: Mutual Extremely Dubious Consent (forced by a third party), drugging, irrational behavior (Vader), nonconsensual body modification, forced pregnancy, imprisonment, threatened torture of a child (not followed through on)

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Vader captures Obi-Wan a few years into the Empire. Because Vader is Anakin, but even worse on the emotional bullshit, he decides that he needs to keep Obi-Wan safe but harmless. Vader also got Luke in the whole 'capturing Kenobi' situation, so part of what Vader's thinking about all this is that Obi-Wan tried to protect The Baby and so Vader kind of owes him, obviously.

Palpatine lets him keep Obi-Wan "safe," because threatening Obi-Wan is a convenient way to make Vader shut up and do what he's told. Palpatine can kind of tell that threatening the toddler would make Vader lose his shit and attempt to kill good ol' Palps, so threatening the middle-aged depressed alcoholic being kept in Vader's guest room with Force-nullifying cuffs is pretty good. It's an additional layer of emotional torture on top of the electrocution of Vader himself!

Vader has Obi-Wan taking care of Luke, mostly, because Vader has Obligations and A Job, and Obi-Wan wouldn't hurt Luke, duh. He might try to escape with the kid, but he won't be successful, and Obi-Wan will definitely put Luke's safety first, so that probably won't happen.

This is all fairly normal for a variety of AUs, granted, and not very dark.

But see, Obi-Wan behaves. He's aware of how tenuous the situation is for him and his charge, so he plays nice. And Vader decides to reward that.

By giving him Cody.

There's an implied thought process there that Obi-Wan was fond of Cody, and Cody was fond back, and now that the Jedi aren't around, they can follow through instead of worrying about some silly Code. Vader's nullified the orders to kill all the Jedi, of course, possibly dosed their food with an aphrodisiac so they don't try to talk themselves out of What They Obviously Want.

Now, we’re going to make it a little darker, because why not make things worse by having Vader try to make things better?

Vader somehow twisted himself around to encouraging them to have a baby. This is accomplished through a combination of Sith Magic and nonconsensual surgery, and lots of questionable drugs.

Obi-Wan just wakes up in a hospital bed with a womb one morning, and is informed of the surgery then and there, after it’s already happened. The droid telling him about it is just like "in the Lord Vader's infinite kindness--" and Obi-Wan just.

Anakin.

What the fuck.

What in the actual fuck made you think this was a good idea.

(The Sith Chemicals, probably.)

I feel like Palpatine would maybe even order the pregnancy induction just to torture them by proxy because that's like eight levels of Fuck No and he barely has to do anything except tell Vader that he'd like to see what kind of children a Jedi Master like Obi-Wan has.

Luke needs friends, doesn't he?

Obi-Wan is having some very complicated emotions about all of this because Vader is, in his own absolutely insane way, trying to help.

Anakin wanted babies and Padme wanted babies so clearly, if Obi-Wan and Cody are in love, then they also want babies!

Cody and Obi-Wan very well might not be in love. Anakin definitely could have misinterpreted. It’s probably more angsty if they're just friends who ended up in this bullshit together.

(He's taking baby fever to new and somewhat horrifying heights, because... he would adore Obi's kids.)

(His family button is suprisingly large for a mass murderer.)

Vader Kindly Informs Bail That Obi-Wan Is Alive And Unharmed. Bail was a friend of Obi-Wan's, telling him this is only helpful and will keep Alderaan from getting more rebellious out of personal insult. Obviously.

Vader is almost offended when Bail implies he might hurt Obi-Wan. He kept his son safe, he owes him. Speaking of, don’t you have a child? How old is she, again? It would be Good for her to make friends, wouldn’t it? :)

Palpatine is just like... sitting back and eating evil popcorn as Vader runs around, ruining people's lives by trying to be less of The Worst than before.

Palps barely has to do anything, Anakin's fucking it up on his own!

Could have been just a sly "Kenobi is so attached to young Luke, but now that you've been reunited with your son, perhaps he'd be happier with a child of his own?" Come at it from both "make Obi-Wan happy" and "protect your relationship with Luke" angles.

Vader: I can't have babies anymore due to what you did to me on Mustafar. Obi-Wan: So you're punishing me by forcing me to have them instead? Vader: No! Children are a gift that you have been cruelly denied by the Order that held us in its chains! Obi-Wan: ...oh, right, you're insane. Forgot about that. Somehow.

Big dramatic speech about how the Jedi Order spent so long making them take lives, he’s giving Obi-Wan a chance to create it! To put something good and bright into the world!

Poor Cody is like. "General, I am very fond of you but I'm having a million panic attacks at the same time because of the mind control, and also Vader is under the impression that we're in love and I need to be your stud? I wasn't aware you could have children--" "I can't. Or at least, I couldn't, but Anakin is... creative." "...what."

I don't want to actually objectify Cody in the narrative past the point that Obi-Wan himself is, because nnnnngh racism and clone stuff, so I'm going to say Cody was in love with Obi-Wan, and would have been okay with at least discussing the whole baby schtick if not for the absolutely horrible circumstances.

Like if the war had ended normally, and Obi-Wan had expressed a desire to retire, unlikely as that was, then Cody may have suggested a dinner, and they could have gotten married and then eventually adoption...

(Cody had a lot of fantasies he didn’t let himself think about too hard.)

But no. It's this... weird Vader-inspired bullshit.

I'm just so invested in Vader trying to help but making things legitimately a million times worse.

He wants to help :) Oh god, he wants to help.

Why aren't people more appreciative of how hard I'm helping them? - the Anakin Skywalker story

With less time to stew and also getting handed what he wants, Vader could absolutely flip on a dime the second he saw Luke being protected, and go from “I hate you” to remembering that Obi-Wan said he loved him, and now he must keep Obi-Wan safe out of debt and he just... he’s playing house.

Vader throws Obi-Wan a baby shower after the pregnancy is confirmed. Bail is invited, because Obi-Wan doesn't have a lot of friends still alive. Vader decides Bail is top of the Obi-Wan’s Friends List.

This is the first time they've seen each other in two years. Obi-Wan is heavily pregnant despite Bail knowing full well he didn't have the plumbing for that before the Empire rose. Cody is there and emotionally exhausted but more lucid than most troopers. Luke is running up to Leia because New Friend!!!

....there may be MORE of the 212th and 501st at the baby shower, with “kill all Jedi” orders revoked, of course. But it will keep the children safe!! And Cody and Obi-Wan can see their surviving friends!!

Cody: I'd be much happier to see my surviving troopers if they didn't all still have chips in their heads. Obi-Wan: I feel much the same. Vader: [404 error]

Bail and his family might be there at blaster point, but aren't you happy to see them, Obi-Wan??

Obi-Wan's endless trauma is honestly somewhat curtailed by the incessant need to facepalm at Vader’s bullshit

Obi-Wan and Cody both outwardly have a very "there are much worse people I could be stuck with in this situation but obviously I wish I'd had a choice, no hard feelings" attitude at each other.

Internally, Cody is suffering because this is NOT how he wanted his crush to be realized, and Obi-Wan is just suffering, period.

Cody: How did he even choose which of us ends up pregnant? Obi-Wan: He thinks I need to be protected, and that he needs to keep me safe. Cody: ...he does realize that you're better at-- Obi-Wan: Cody, he's completely lost it. No! He doesn't realize!

I feel like over the course of the year or two this plot unravels towards Palpatine getting murder-deposed and Anakin getting locked down, part of the driving force to Vader not being Vader anymore is that Luke actually really loves Uncle Obi and always starts fussing and going "Ben's sad" whenever Vader dismisses what Obi-Wan wants in favor of what Vader thinks Obi-Wan wants, and Vader can't deny his child anything.

Luke cries because Palpatine Feels Wrong like, once or twice, and Anakin goes “oh, okay, assassination time.”

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #Luke Skywalker #Commander Cody #Codywan #Darth Vader #Bail Organa #star wars #dubcon #situational dubcon #nonconsensual surgery #medical abuse tw #forced pregnancy tw #nonconsensual body modification #Vader Tries to Help AU #Phoenix Posts #dead dove do not read #dead dove

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lunar-wandering · 3 years

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Eventide

bet yall thought i forgot about the Sunset Wukong AU didnt you

jokes on you, i didn’t.

welcome to Macaque’s intro, aka me kinda just rewriting episode 9-

Word Count: 1.5k

Read on Ao3

"You know, when I found out that I was going to be trained by Monkey King, the 'Great Sage, Equal to Heaven', I had no idea.... that I'd be stuck here, hammering walls 12 hours a day!" MK yelled, throwing the hammer off to the side, ignoring the loud crash it made as it hit the ground, turning to glare at Wukong. "Why am I doing this again?"

"First of all, it's only been 2 hours, not 12." Wukong said, casually leaning against a nearby pillar. "Secondly, it's so that I can make a neat little breakfast nook."

"But I'm meant to be the Monkie Kid, not Construction Boy, and besides, this barely counts as practice!" MK said, crossing his arms with an annoyed huff. "How am I meant to defeat demons if I don't know any of the fighting...stuff."

"Oh, so you want to learn the 'fighting stuff', huh?" Wukong said, pushing off the pillar and picking up the staff from where MK had left it laying on the ground. "You mean like....this?"

MK barely managed to duck down and dodge as the staff proceeded to go sailing over his head, hitting the wall hard enough to break it and leave a sizeable hole in it.

"Yes! Exactly like that-" MK paused mid-excited ramble as he registered the wince on Wukong's face, as well as how the Monkey King had placed one hand behind his back. MK sighed, the excited energy leaving almost as fast as it had came. "Monkey King, I've told you multiple times that we could move training to nighttime, after sunset."

"It's fine, it's fine, you need your rest." Wukong said, waving away MK's concern, at the same time revealing exactly what MK's had suspected, that the tips of Wukong's fingers had turned to stone. "Besides, you're not ready for that kind of stuff yet anyways."

"But I am ready! What's smacking a wall going to teach me anyways?"

"Look, I'm never going to teach you something you don't need to know, okay?" Wukong said, sighing. "Anyways, this wall isn't going to destroy itself. Remember, step into the strike-"

MK's phone rang.

MK climbed over the edge of the building, a whole rant already building in his mind.

"Monkey King, I swear, I know it's sunset, but we have told you so many times not to use your powers during the day-" MK cut himself off once he got a good look at the monkey standing before him. "...Oh. This is awkward. You're not... Monkey King."

"Heh, I get that a lot." The monkey said, giving a nervous laugh. "The names Macaque, Six Eared Macaque, although that's more of a nickname really.... nevermind that, you're the Monkie Kid, MK, right?"

"...How'd you know?" MK asked, suspicious. Macaque gave an airy chuckle.

"Not exactly everyone can wield that staff, kid." He said, turning and starting to walk away. "Anyways, I should go-"

"Can you teach me that cool move you did?!" MK blurted out, almost as shocked as Macaque himself was at the sudden question. He wasn't sure what had prompted him to ask, but as it was he wasn't getting any stronger right now, and this powerful monkey didn't have a curse that turned him to stone in the daylight, so... "Please?"

Macaque eyed the horizon for a moment before responding.

"Isn't Wukong teaching you?" He said, and when MK looked nervous, followed it up with, "But I suppose you can never have too many teachers, right? I'm sure Monkey King wouldn't mind...."

And so, Macaque wormed his way into MK's weekly schedule.

Oddly enough, Macaque, like Wukong, insisted on never training MK during the night, but MK was fine with that, as Macaque was actually teaching him, unlike Wukong, who continued to simply make MK slam a hammer against a wall, day after day. Going back and forth between both training sessions, and his job of delivering noodles was no easy task, but MK figured he was managing it pretty well.

...Okay, so maybe he felt a bit more tired, a bit more irritable than usual, but he could overcome that! He could get better at balancing his schedule.

He could do this.

...His rising anger over how Wukong continued to have him do nothing but smack a wall, repeatedly, over and over, every single day, wasn't doing him any favors though.

He is the weapon.

That sentence repeats like a mantra over and over in his head as he stares down the glowing eye of the smoke monster. Maybe he says it out loud- he can't be sure. All he's focused on is the sparks of energy flying around him, the resistance he feels keeping him from landing a hit as he pushes harder, summons as much energy as he can-

The air shifts, and MK barely has time to blink as the smoke monster smirks (and he hadn't even known that it could do that), shifting, twirling in on itself-

He thinks of looking back at Macaque for help.

But then the smoke clears away, and despite his confusion, he instantly knows the help would never come.

He finds himself face to face with Macaque, remnants of smoke and shadows slipping off of the other's form as he looks up and meets MK's gaze, revealing a scar over one eye, and really, MK should've seen this coming.

But it's not really Macaque's betrayal that surprises him.

No, that honor goes to the stone slowly creeping it's way up the side of Macaque's face.

And then Macaque's fist hits MK's chest, and MK gets the wind knocked out of him. He drops, hitting the ground, hard. Groaning, he starts trying to pull himself up.

He feels....weaker, somehow.

Like something isn't quite right.

"Y'know, you really are a good kid." MK barely registers Macaque's hand ruffling his hair, but he leans back as the other enters the shadows on the ground. "Super nice."

MK watches as the shadow clone (because that's what it must've been right? Heavens he was stupid, falling for a plot as simple as this) merges with it's creator- noting that the stone isn't just on Macaque's face, both the monkey's right leg, his left arm, and slowly spreading onto his chest.

It took a few moments more than it should've for MK to notice the gleaming ball of magic in Macaque's hand, but by the time he'd noticed it, Macaque was already closing his fist around it.

MK watched in fascination and mild horror as sparks of magic appeared all over Macaque's body, and the stone-

The stone faded away.

MK didn't get much of a chance to think about that, as the next second, the magical recoil sent MK flying, his back colliding with the face of the mountain behind him, the staff following after and landing sideways, like a bar pinning him to the rock. Tried as he might to move it, he couldn't.

He was trapped.

Monkey King, of course, came to save him, as always. MK could only thank his lucky stars that the whole situation had taken place in the night, instead of the day. He had no idea what they would do if Wukong turned fully to stone during an attack. (And based on some of the things Pigsy had told him, this had actually come close to happening, far more often than MK would like. They all knew that Wukong would still revert back to normal at sunset, even if he'd been turned all the way to stone. But they also knew that it hurt. And MK never, wanted anybody to be in that level of pain just because he couldn't handle things on his own.)

Still though, they'd really been cutting it close, with there having only been mere moments before sunrise. MK could still vividly see the expression on his mentors face as he looked back, eyeing the horizon, before locking eyes with MK.

Wukong hadn't strictly asked for help, instead saying that it was time for the "hero stuff", as MK had previously put it. But MK recognized worry when he saw it.

Part of him relifting the staff was fueled entirely by his determination to be the one to help his mentor for once. But he wasn't about to tell the Monkey King that. (He was fairly certain that Wukong might get offended over it, if his reluctance to let others help with his whole 'turning to stone' problem said anything).

MK sighed, feeling tired as he watched the sunrise. It belatedly occurred to him that he had stayed up all night.

It wouldn't be the first all-nighter he'd ever pulled, but after what he'd just been through? He just wanted to collapse into a mountain of pillows right this instant.

"...I should probably head home." MK lightly pulled himself out from under Wukong's arm, standing up. "I feel bone tired."

"I'm sure you do." Wukong also stood up, brushing dirt and debris off of his clothes, before looking down the cliff they'd been sitting on. "Just uh, could I ask you for a favor first?"

"Uh, I guess?" MK yawned, leaning against the staff for support as he slouched.

Wukong eyed the horizon. The sun had already risen.

"...You and Pigsy would probably yell at me if I summoned my cloud and turned my toes to stone so.....mind giving me a ride back?"

#Monkie Kid #fanfic #my writing #Sunset Wukong AU

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babybluebex · 3 years

Text

quad cuddle puddle [tom holland fluff]

➽ pairing: dad!tom holland x fem!reader ➽ word count: 2.5k ➽ summary: tom forgets his birthday, so you and your twin sons help him remember. ➽ warnings: EXTREME FLUFF, dad!tom to boys with super curly hair :,)) ➽ a/n: this entire thing makes me go uwu wow i nEED dad!tom

“‘Morning, Mummy.”

There was a swift kiss placed on my cheek, accompanied by the smell of Tom’s shampoo, and I watched my husband pick up a mug and hand it to me. “‘Morning, babes,” I mumbled. “You’re up early.”

“The lads wanted me to make them breakfast before football,” Tom shrugged. “Their eyes got all big and they started pouting; you know how it goes.”

“And where would the lads be?” I asked, sipping at the warm earl grey in a mug that declared Tom to be the world’s best daddy.

“Garden,” Tom said. “Running around with Tess.”

I nodded and placed the tea down, and I captured Tom’s arm in a hug. I sighed heavily, and I whispered, “Let me think. We have a football match today, yes? Anything else?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Tom said, nestling his mouth into my messy hair.

My heart thrummed. He had forgotten, which was so typical of him. Tom Holland would forget his head if it wasn’t screwed onto his neck. “Silly old bear,” I giggled. “Old, old bear.”

“Hey,” Tom squeaked. “I’m not that old!”

“Are you sure?” I asked. Just then, I saw Tessa in a blur, rushing past the sliding glass door, quickly followed by Theodore and William. “You’re not forgetting something?”

“Christ on a cracker, Y/N,” Tom chuckled. “Am I?”

“I’d say so,” I told him, unwrapping myself from around his arm. “But what exactly?” I turned and stuck my tongue out at him as I walked backwards towards the door, and Tom’s eyebrows knitted together as he mumbled to himself.

As soon as I opened the door, I heard shouts of “Mummy!” and Tess’s baying at my entrance. Tom and I had just started dating when he got Tess and all of the Hollands said that I was her true owner, more so than Tom. She always came running to me with tail wagging and drool dripping. My boys weren’t much different in their greetings.

I kneeled to the ground and was tackled by a 40 pound boy. Theodore was the oldest twin, but he was still über attached to me. A lot of other boys at school and football were starting to shed their mothers, but my Theo was always at my hip. I didn’t mind one bit, of course. Even when Theo gets to be older with his own family, I’d still gladly let him hold my hand. “Hi, Mummy,” Theo said with a toothy grin.

“Hi, my darling,” I smiled back and I ruffled up his tawny curls. “Did Daddy brush your hair?”

“Yeah,” Theo nodded quickly. “Liam’s too.”

I looked over Theo’s shoulder to see my other boy Liam laid on the grass and wrestling with Tess. William was younger by a half hour and was a bit smaller than Theo, but everything else was identical. Same brown curls that turned caramel in the summertime, dark brown eyes, freckles and button noses and-- as much I hated to say it-- crooked teeth. Tom had had braces when he was young, as did I, and I hated the thought that my boys would have to endure that. Theo and Liam were the spitting image of their father, hardly anything left for me to contribute to them, but I didn’t mind. Having the house full of Tom and a pair of Tom clones made me happy.

Liam’s hair was a mess just like Theo’s, and I laughed softly. Liam’s hair was getting long, to about his shoulders, and I briefly wondered if he would let me braid his hair before his match, but the thought was interrupted by Tom from the door. “Lads!” He called. “Breakie!”

Our boys raced to the door and careened to get their food, and I hung back at Tom’s side. “Theo said you brushed their hair,” I said.

“Yeah,” Tom said. “Wanted to let you sleep.”

“Hmm,” I hummed softly. “Did you dress them too?”

“Yeah,” Tom nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“Liam’s shirt is backwards,” I said, stifling my laugh.

“What? No,” Tom said quickly. “No, I-- The logo’s on the back, isn’t it?”

“No, my love, the logo is on the front of their kit,” I told him.

“Yeah, Daddy,” Liam chimed in, climbing up into the stool at the counter. “Logo’s on the front, or how else will you see it?”

Tom scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me, you goose?” he said and lightly tickled Liam’s side. Where Theo was a momma’s boy, Liam was a daddy’s boy through and through. He had always been that way, ever since he was born; I could hold him, Dominic and Nikki could try, we even let Harry, Sam, Patty, and Harrison have a crack at it, but Liam only ever stopped his awful wailing when Tom held him. There was a time when the boys were two and Liam absolutely refused to wear clothes unless they matched Tom’s. That led to several months of candid paparazzi pictures and headlines about how Liam was basically Tom’s Mini-Me. That was a hidden perk to marrying and having children with a famous actor: I could never run out of pictures of Tom or him with our boys. “You goose!”

“You’re the goose, Daddy,” Liam giggled. “‘Cause you forgot--”

“Liam,” I giggled, snuffling into his neck. “Let Daddy remember for himself.”

“You’re killing me,” Tom laughed. His eyes wrinkled at the corners as he smiled, and he turned his attention towards Theo. “How’re you liking those eggs there, T?”

“There’s some shell in them, Daddy,” Theo said, patting the scrambled eggs with his fork. “They’re crunchy.”

“Isn’t that how Uncle Sammy makes your eggs?” Tom asked. “I could have sworn he told me that you liked your eggs extra crunchy.”

“No,” Theo said, his cheeks turning pink as he giggled. “I didn’t say that.”

“We can get something to eat on the way to football,” I offered. “I think today’s worth celebrating, right, lads?”

Luckily, Theo and Liam had caught on, and they nodded. “What’re we celebrating?” Tom sighed. “Why won’t you just tell me?”

“I’ll give you three guesses,” I told him. I began to carefully plait up Liam’s hair, and I watched the gears turning in Tom’s head.

“It’s not our anniversary,” Tom began. His nose scrunched up, and he mumbled, “And it’s not any birthdays… Theo. Is it your birthday today?”

“No,” Theo giggled.

“Liam? Is it yours?” Tom asked, his brown eyes twinkling.

“No! Theo and I have the same birthday!”

“Oh yeah. Duh. Not yours, I know that…” Tom said, looking at me, and his eyes suddenly widened. “Is it my birthday?”

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Liam exclaimed. I had seen him ready to burst with it, and the look on Tom’s face was unforgettable. It was glee, the most potent and joyful glee.

“How did I forget my own birthday?” Tom laughed. “Is that why you called me old?”

“You’re getting there, love,” I said, pressing my finger to his chin.

“You’re mean,” Tom told me, and I wound my arms around him.

“But you deal with it somehow,” I said, and Tom nodded.

“How do I manage?” Tom sighed, and he leaned down and quickly kissed my cheek. With that, the boys groaned, and Tom rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Mummy and Daddy are gross, I know. You’ll understand one day.”

The glass door was open as I sat on the couch, a July evening breeze warming the room. Theo and Liam had won their football match, and we all had gone to lunch with Tom’s family and Harrison (who was an honorary Holland at this point). I could hear my husband and sons in the back garden playing, with a bark from Tess every so often, and I looked down at my book. Then, there was an exaggerated yell from the yard, and Tom called, “They’ve got me! I’m being attacked! Mummy, help! Oh, Jesus, Tess, that’s my mouth.”

When I looked into the yard, I saw Tom splayed out on the grass, twins sitting on his chest as Tessa was licking all over his face. Theo and Liam loved to wrestle with Tom, even though they always won, and it had become a nightly routine ever since we realized that the boys were out like a light about half an hour after the whole thing.

“How’d you get yourself into this?” I asked. “I thought Spiderman was a really good fighter.”

“Not when-- Tess, stop the licking, please-- not when he’s ambushed by clones,” Tom said, pushing Tessa away, but she went right back to licking his forehead. “Genetically modified clones!”

“Oh, dear,” I playfully sighed.

“We’ve got you, Spiderman!” Theo cried.

“You might’ve caught me,” Tom began, wrapping a muscled arm around each boy. “But I… Am… Spiderman!” With that, he worked himself to his feet, each son under his arm, and he began to spin in circles as they screamed with glee. I’m not sure either Theo or Liam would ever get over their dad being Spiderman. I remember taking them to set when they could barely walk and having Zendaya and Jacob go all heart-eyes over the “baby Toms”, but Liam had been in a world of his own that day. He clung to Tom’s leg nearly all day, and, whenever Tom was able to take off the mask. Liam just looked up at him and giggled. Theo also liked the fact that his dad was Spiderman; he had told me once that it made him feel safe and happy, and that spoke volumes to me.

Tom was terrified when I first told him that I was pregnant. We were young; he was only 19 and had just officially landed the role of Spiderman hardly a month before. I was scared out of my wits as well, but I knew that Tom’s heart was good and that he would be a loving father; not to mention I had a whole clan of Hollands behind me to catch Tom if he started slipping up. The first few doctors appointments he missed, due to Civil War filming, and when he finally had a break at the same time as an appointment, he held my hand the entire time. The doctor had passed the wand over my swelling belly and, after a moment, there was the faintest heartbeat. Tom cried. He often cried when it came to our boys. Then, when the second heartbeat joined, that’s when panic started to come in. Twins. We were hardly adults, Tom had a new job, I was still a uni student, and we were fit to have twins. It all seemed impossible.

Until Civil War was released. Tom-Mania extended to the far corners of the globe, and suddenly there were millions of people backing us. His management team around him was advising him on how to tell his new fans that I was pregnant, but Tom, in typical fashion, didn’t listen to any suggestions and opted instead to post a picture of me on his story with my sweatpants pulled under my big belly, crying about Toy Story. And everyone loved them. Theodore Dominic Holland and William Thomas Holland were more loved than they could ever fathom and now, at five years old, they continued to amass a fanbase of their own.

According to routine, after our nightly wrestling was bath time (translation: Liam tries to take a shower like a big boy but always ends up needed help washing his hair, so either Tom or I sit in there for half an hour and let him do his thing until he calls upon us), and, if need be, a small snack. When Tom was training for a movie, I tried to keep the whole family on a semi-similar diet, but you could definitely tell when Tom had wrapped a movie just by the state of our larder. It was usually at the pre-bedtime snack that the Oreos were brought out, even if I tried in vain to get them to have a bit of orange. My self control was fairly weak, however, and I gave into the cookies every time.

And then, the main event. Bedtime. The boys had gotten into a habit of falling asleep in our bed and having us tuck them into their own, but lately, we kept “forgetting” to move them and ended up letting them sleep with us. Two adults, two children, and a dog didn’t leave much room, but we made it work. I was extra conscious of small moments like waking up with little boy drool on my chest, because I knew that there would come a day when I didn’t have that. One day, my boys would grow up and would maybe tolerate a hug at times, and I wanted to savor the moments I had with them.

Tom read them a story every single night. Lately, at the recommendation of their school teacher, we had begun to read them chapter books, and they were nearly halfway through the first Lord of the Rings book already. The time it took to read a chapter was enough for me to manage a shower, and then I would make sure they stayed down while Tom did the same.

Usually I did. Sometimes, like tonight, Tom fell asleep while reading.

He was laying in bed, his legs crossed at the ankle, propped up against the pillows. Liam was nestled in the crook of his right arm, sucking the corner of his blankie, and Theo was in his left. The sight of all three of my boys sleeping together made tears well in my eyes. If I thought they looked alike when they were awake, it was nothing compared to when they were asleep. Tom’s cheeks went red when he slept, usually if he was having a good dream, and Theo and Liam had inherited that. The universe really said copy-paste with my boys. Sometimes, I would hear Liam or Theo say something, and I could’ve sworn that my husband was the one to utter it.

I stopped briefly to take a picture of the affair, topped off with a toppled book, and I quickly sent it to Nikki. I was nowhere near as good of a photographer as she was, but I knew that she appreciated the little candid moments in our house that she couldn’t capture. Then, moving slowly so as to not wake the sleeping boys, I slipped under the blankets. Tom gave a little snuffle in his sleep and his eyes opened slowly. He looked at me, then at his sons, and he sighed. “How long s’I asleep?” He mumbled, smacking his lips.

“I only just got out of the shower,” I whispered. “Couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes.”

“Goodness, I’m sorry, love,” Tom whispered.

“For what?” I asked. “You had a big day, Mr. Birthday Boy.”

“Dunno,” Tom said, and he brushed a hand over Theo’s curls. “I’m just exhausted.”

“Go to sleep, my love,” I whispered. “I think they’re gonna sleep really well tonight, what do you think?”

“Yeah,” Tom whispered.

I scooted closer to the trio and put an arm over Theo and across Tom’s stomach so that my hand could reach Liam’s side. We had perfected the art of a quadruple cuddle puddle. “I love you.” I whispered.

“Love you, Mummy,” Theo mumbled, his little voice oh-so quiet, and a tear escaped my eye. Oh, how I loved my babies so.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #uwu #peter parker #spiderman #marvel #mcu #chaos walking #cherry #nico walker #tessa holland #she makes an appearance #and it brings me so much joy that she has her own tag #😭

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