#but hey what does a cuckoo know?

[maegalkarven]

The poly route with Daniel and Ortega is hilarious if you focus/open up to Danny more.

Ortega is here desperately trying to make Sidestep open up and trust them, and then Sidestep just goes and tells Daniel (some of) their secrets, the very ones they've kept from Ortega for ages.

My Step told Daniel he is a trans man and Re-Gene before he told Ortega (which he never managed to do on his terms bc he and Ortega crashed).

I just find it strangely satisfying what Rangers tried to keep things from Herald only for him to know more than the most already.

[blindmagdalena]

The Cuckoo's Nest

18+ 6.3k siren!homelander x f!reader. dub/noncon, infidelity, mind/emotional manipulation, gaslighting, voice kink, masturbation, penetrative sex, fingering, blood, gore, cannibalism? creampie, stalking, minor character death, praise kink, good girl/pretty girl.

The gentle and pleasing voice of the cuckoo bird has made it a renowned herald of spring, and perhaps one of the most famous of songbirds. One would never guess merely by looking at it that it is a predatory parasite.

What you thought would be a dream job working for Vought as Homelander's very own secretary turns into a surreal waking nightmare as reality and dreams converge in a confusing mess. The only coherent thread that strings it all together is the alluring pull of Homelander's unnatural voice.

written for Monsterlander Mania. fair warning, this fic is fairly dark! thank you so much @anon-nee for this amazing banner art. 🖤

When you were hired as Homelander’s secretary, the gig had been pitched as a cushy desk job. Now that he’s the new face of Vought, and Ashley the company CEO, he needs someone who will keep his day to day affairs in order. Apparently, you’re just the person for that job.

“You probably won’t see much of him,” Ashley tells you distractedly. She rarely ever looks away from her phone for long.

“There are two landlines on your desk. The left one is for general business, and the one on the right, the red one, is exclusively for him. Don’t make calls on it. He has the number memorized, he’s the only one who’ll ever call it, so make sure you always answer it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say diligently.

Glancing over, Ashley does a double take. “Aren’t you married? Where’s your ring?”

You falter, looking down at your hands. “Oh,” you say, taking said ring out of your pocket. “I put hand cream on earlier, I just forgot to put it back on.”

“Make sure you keep that on,” she says, giving you a critical look before returning her gaze to her phone. “He’s particular.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Nevertheless, you make sure to always keep your wedding ring on while you’re at work.

True to Ashley’s word, you see neither hide nor hair of Homelander during your first three days. You make his appointments, you take calls on his behalf, and you organize his bookings.

In your office, directly across from your desk, hangs a borderline comically oversized portrait of him that stares relentlessly at you as you work. You often find yourself staring back at it, the back of your neck prickling with the irrational feeling of being watched.

You know that it’s just in your head, but you can’t help but be put off by the feeling. Sometimes you consider covering the portrait, but the last thing you want is for the man to appear out of the blue and see a blanket thrown over his likeness.

Your instinct proves correct.

“Hey you,” comes a voice like silk. You startle, looking up from your desk to find a shock of red, white and blue standing in your doorway, his arms folded casually behind his back.

“Homelander,” you say, nearly choking on the name. “Sir, hello. I’m–”

“I know,” he interjects smoothly, cape swaying behind him as he passes the threshold, making his way over to your desk. That voice. He’s not even said five words to you yet, but it lingers in your ears like warm honey, causing a flush of warmth to roll through you. You convince yourself that you’re just embarrassed to have been caught so thoroughly off guard. “My new secretary. Sorry I couldn’t stop by sooner.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize, sir. I know better than most how–” you hesitate, watching as he takes a turn and begins walking directly towards you, circling behind your desk. “–busy you are,” you finish, looking up at him as he looms over you. You wonder if you should stand, but he’s so close to you now, you’d just knock right into him.

He smells good. Earthy and slightly sweet, like vetiver.

“That’s pretty,” he remarks, gesturing to your ring finger. “Sapphire, huh? Unusual choice.”

You swallow, trying desperately to reign in the cadence of your breath. Your heart is pattering as wildly as rain drops. “Thank you. My husband chose it, it’s his birthstone.”

To which Homelander giggles. It’s a delighted, slightly off-putting little noise. “P’wow, he gave you a ring with his birthstone, huh? Really staking his claim,” he says, reaching down to take your hand. He looks at you just before he makes contact. His eyes are even bluer than the stone in your ring. “May I?”

Dumbstruck, you nod, lifting your hand and placing it in his upturned palm. He sits on your desk and turns your hand this way and that, watching the way your ring catches the light. Eventually, his gaze slips back to yours. “Happily married?”

“Very,” you say immediately, your throat suddenly dry.

He smiles, and only then do you notice how unusually sharp his canines are.

“Good. Glad to hear it,” he says, giving your hand a gentle pat before he lets it go. You immediately drop your hand into your lap, touching your ring. You feel strangely lightheaded all of a sudden, unable to look away from his piercing gaze. Even when he isn’t speaking, you can still hear the warmth of his tone echoing all around you.

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you,” he says, standing from your desk with preternatural elegance, as if he’d floated more than lifted himself.

“Please, the pleasure was all mine,” you say with a smile, somewhat dazed. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

He looks pleased as punch at that. “I’ll try not to be such a stranger, hmm?” he purrs, reaching out to give your shoulder a friendly squeeze. You feel the rumble of his voice roll all the way down your spine and into the core of you, leaving a light throb nestled between your thighs.

“I’d like that. Thank you, sir,” you say, your voice sounding dreamy and distant in your own ears.

Flashing that same toothy grin, he shoots you a wink before he turns face with a slight flourish of his cape, the fabric billowing in his wake as he takes his leave, disappearing down the hall.

The second he’s gone, it’s like the spell of his presence breaks and you come crashing back to yourself, eyes wide. A hot broil of shame rolls through you when you realize how aroused you are, that throb lingering. You’re equal parts shocked and disgusted with yourself, sickened by the hot prickle lingering on every inch of your skin.

Holy shit. What the fuck was that?

You wind up leaving an hour early, eager to be home. The shame makes you desperate to see your husband, as if touching him will erase the residual traces of the effect that Homelander had on your body.

It doesn’t. In fact, that feeling of being watched follows you all the way home, the feel of it becoming a specter haunting your house. When your husband seeks intimacy from you in your bed later that night, you push his hands away.

“Sorry,” you say softly, shaken. “Not tonight.”

Your body still remembers him too viscerally.

That night, you dream of songbirds.

Two days later, the right landline rings for the first time. You stare blankly at it, your stomach immediately twisting into knots. It rings, once, twice, nearly a third time before you hurriedly snatch it up off the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” comes Homelander’s familiar drawl. His voice falls over you like a wash of sunlight, warm and heavy. “Thought you might be ignoring me for a second there.”

“No, no, never. Sorry, sir,” you say, reaching for your water. You take a quick sip. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing too dire, just a little shuffling. Can you bump tomorrow’s 4pm to Thursday for me?” He asks, voice slipping around your throat like a noose. The press of it makes you slightly breathless.

“Of course,” you say, balancing the phone on your shoulder while you manipulate your tablet. “That’s no problem at all, done.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, the phone turning his voice into an intimate rumble in your ear.

You blink, feeling like your mouth is full of cotton. You can’t seem to form a response.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He asks, and you swear up and down you can hear a smile in his voice. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Was there anything else, sir?” You manage to blurt out, words leaving you in a clumsy spill. You’re breathing shallowly, mouth parched. You snatch up your water and take another quick sip. There’s a long pause on the line, the silence so deafening you think for a moment you must have missed something. “Sir?”

“Touch yourself.”

Your heart falls into your stomach, but that feeling is nothing compared to the unbidden liquid heat that those words erupt throughout your body.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says patiently. Amused, even. “Touch yourself. Take your hand–no, no, the left one,” he says in response to your right hand drifting down. You weren’t even aware you’d started moving. You swap the phone from your left hand to your right, and grab hold of your thigh with your left hand.

“I don’t understand,” you say, the words feeling as thick as molasses on your tongue. “Why are you–”

“That’s good. Now, move those pretty fingers in. Just like that,” he directs, and to your own distant horror, your hand moves, sliding between your legs and lifting up your skirt, your sparkling ring disappearing beneath it. You press your middle finger directly to your beating clit and let go a shuddering breath, massaging it through your panties.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me how you like it, mm? Bet your husband still doesn’t know the first fuckin’ thing about how to make you feel good. He ever watch you do this to yourself, ever bother to learn how you like to be touched?”

Disoriented, you shake your head. Your hips reflexively lift to meet the smooth figure-eights you rub yourself with. You’re sure you’d agree to anything he said so long as he keeps talking.

“Didn’t think so. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need.”

The heat of his voice envelops you, makes your whole body feel aflame. You’ve never been so sensitive in your life, already shuddering and squirming in your seat from the intensity of sensation building beneath your fingers.

“Slow down. There’s no rush. You’re as good as mine now.”

His voice is like velvet but his words sting, needling something inside you that squirms. You screw your eyes shut and shake your head more fervently. “No, no, m’not… I don’t…”

“Shhhhh,” he hushes, the hiss of it like a serpent in your ear. “Give it up for me, sweetheart.”

A whimper escapes your throat, the noise all but choked out of you. You can’t move, save for the increasingly frantic stroke of your fingers. His voice is a physical caress that slips down the line of your throat, between your breasts, slinking in serpentine patterns until it spills over your fingers and–

You gasp awake, staring wide-eyed at your blurry ceiling as wave after wave of pure euphoria crashes over you, stealing your capacity for breath. You ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm in a state of delirium, the shadows on your ceiling dancing like a voyeuristic crowd. You’re not sure if it takes seconds, minutes or hours to end, your perception of time distorted by the sheer intensity of sensation.

Looking to your side, panting, you see your husband sleeping soundly beside you. His snores are faint and peaceful. The curtains of your balcony door billow softly with the night’s breeze.

Your day comes back to you in a slow blur. The phone call was real, you’re sure of it… Aren’t you? Reaching for your phone, you hurriedly log into your Vought calendar and check the schedule. Sure enough, in your history, you can see that you bumped his next day R&D meeting to Thursday. That was real.

You wrack your brain for the details of your day, trying to piece together how you got from there to here, and whether or not any of Homelander’s voice cooing lewd commands in your ear was real. 

It couldn’t have been. 

The more the dream fades from your mind, the more you remember the rest of your day. You remember hanging up the phone, finishing your work day as per usual, and going home to your husband. Though it’s all something of a strange blur, the memories are there.

Even so, the dream somehow feels more real than any of it.

It’s 5am and you doubt you’ll be sleeping again. You get up early, shower, and make breakfast all before your husband even makes it to the kitchen. Your dreams and the haze of yesterday fade with the rising sun, as all dreams and memories often do.

You’re in the process of putting your dishes away when he walks in, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “You got an early start today?” He asks, biting back a yawn.

It’s cute. He’s cute. You feel an irrational spike of guilt.

It was just a dream.

“Didn’t sleep well,” you admit, kissing him on the cheek. You wrinkle your nose. “Oof, morning breath,” you say playfully, but there’s an edge of truth to it. You can’t explain it, but there’s something off about the way your husband smells this morning.

Your mind drifts wistfully to the pleasant memory of sweet vetiver.

By the time you make it to work, your morning is nothing but a distant recollection at the peripheral of your consciousness. 

Nonetheless, the sight of that bright red landline still makes you blush. 

You don’t see Homelander again for another three days. At least, not at work. In reality, you’re more aware of him than you’ve ever been in your life. His face is everywhere, be it TV or billboards. You see him in the grocery store, the post office, and even the goddamn DMV. You never really noticed until now how inescapable Homelander truly is.

It’s no wonder he continues to appear in your dreams, too. You can’t seem to remember any of them very well, but you know without a doubt each time you wake that you were haunted by sapphire blue eyes and a voice as decadent as sin.

Sometimes you recall a gorgeous view of the city hundreds of feet in the air. Other times you recall a blue bed, but the thing you remember most is mirrors. You see yourself clearly in them. You see him with you.

All the while a budding friction between you and your husband continues to grow. You find yourself telling him more often to brush his teeth, shower, anything to combat this bizarre stink he’s taken on. Some days it’s so bad, you swear you smell rotting meat before you realize it’s him. Even the sound of his voice grates on you, both rough and shrill in a way that agitates you further and further into isolation in the house you once happily shared.

On that third day at work, you’re penciling in a meeting regarding a potential collaboration with Superplastic when a rhythmic knock at the door jostles you from focus. You look up to call them in, but Homelander is already striding inside, stealing the words right off the tip of your tongue. 

“Goooood afternoon,” he drawls, the door falling shut behind him. For as much as you’ve continued to see and hear of him, you had forgotten how different he sounds in person, the force of his presence instantly a weight upon your body.

Your brain completely malfunctions. Night after night of erotic whispers suddenly crashes down upon you in visceral detail, how multiple times you woke to the throes of an orgasm with his voice still echoing in your ears. Humiliation and arousal flood you in equal measure, turning your skin hot.

Homelander smiles at you from the other side of your desk all the while. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks slyly. The question hurdles you backwards in time to the moment you were seated in this exact spot with him whispering downright pornographic filth into your ear, coaxing you into touching yourself into a frenzy.

It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was a dream.

“Good afternoon, sir,” you finally manage to say, wincing internally at the sound of your own voice.

“Don’t be so formal,” he says, giving a dismissive little wave. “C’mon, call me Homelander,” he says, once again circling around behind your desk. Your eyes widen slightly, mouth bone dry when you try to swallow. He sweeps his cape out of the way before taking a leisurely seat on your desk. He lifts his brows, pinning you with an expectant stare. “Go on, try again.”

“Uh, good afternoon, Homelander,” you correct yourself. His proximity to you is making it hard to focus–there it is again, the scent of vetiver. He smells like summer grass warmed by the hot sun, and he has a gravitational pull to him that has you leaning subconsciously towards him.

His smile widens. “Much better.” His eyes narrow a touch, flickering down briefly before snapping back up to meet your gaze. 

“So! How’s the office, everything nice and cozy?” He asks, one hand braced next to him on your desk, the other gesturing vaguely about. Before you can even answer, he points to your lap. 

“Chair good? I know how important lumbar support is when you’re sitting all day.”

Discussing your lumbar support needs with Homelander certainly had not been on your bingo sheet.

“Uhm, yes, it’s–” Again, before you can get a real answer in, he’s sitting up and making sweeping motions with his hand.

“Let’s see, up, up, lemme take this bad boy for a spin,” he says, making your heart leap up into your throat when he catches you by your waist and effortlessly lifts you up out of your office chair, turning to set you on your feet. With a flourish of his cape, he drops down into your chair, legs spread wide.

You gawk momentarily, watching him spin side to side.

“Oop, there’s that lumbar,” he says, leaning back into it. He’s grinning at you all the while, the moment entirely surreal. You huff an incredulous little laugh, crossing your arms. He’s a little ridiculous, you realize, but personable. 

Have you been the problem this whole time, turning him into something he’s not? You’re starting to lose yourself in your thoughts as you watch him.  

“How about we test the suspension? C’mere,” he says, giving his thigh a pat. “Sit.”

You snap back to attention, your smile falling away. “Pardon?”

“Sit,” he says again, his smile a predatory curve of his lips. He pats his thigh again “Right here.”

You look down at his lap and then back up, your ears buzzing with the timbre of his voice. Logically, you know that what he’s just demanded is wildly inappropriate, yet the silken tone he said it in leaves you utterly agreeable. Slowly, you lower yourself into his lap, uncertain of why you wouldn’t abide by such a request.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he coos, bracketing your waist with his arms.

 ”That’s better, isn’t it?” He asks, his hands moving up and down your thighs. You shiver, a chill running down your spine despite the fervid heat of his body pressed along the back of yours.

A distant voice in the back of your mind whispers it wasn’t a dream, though you can barely hear it over the pounding of your own blood in your ears.

“Relax,” he murmurs, the word a warm huff on your neck. 

Like a marionette whose strings have been cut, your body goes slack against him. Your heart continues to race even as a wave of calm sweeps through you, the two sensations frantically battling one another. Eventually, however, your pulse succumbs to the warmth seeping from him, and you begin to calm, soothed by the slow sweeps of his palms and the way he’s muttering sweet nothings into your ear. 

“Good girl,” he breathes, the smile audible in his voice. “That’s it. Feels good, hmm?” His hands move more firmly on your thighs, closer to a massage.

You make a thin noise of pleasure, tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“When I tell you… that I have been looking forward to this,” he murmurs, lips brushing your neck. 

“But I had to be sure you were the one. Most people start to go insane after the first night, maybe the second, but not you.” His teeth, sharp as razors, delicately graze your throat. “You’ve been… perfect.”

“What’re you talking about?” You ask, feeling slightly slow and disoriented.

Homelander chuckles, the rumble of it moving from his chest through your back. 

“My voice. It tears apart people's minds… But not yours. Why is that?” His lips are warm on your skin, trailing lower. He lifts a hand to pull your collar askew and kiss at the exposed crook of your neck.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, eyes flickering shut. His mouth feels incredible, the slight dampness that his lips leave behind making you especially sensitive to the air as he exposes you to it. It’s difficult to focus on anything other than the drag of his mouth. 

You don’t even realize he’s unbuttoned your shirt and slipped it off of your shoulders until he’s kissing that newly revealed skin, nipping playfully at your bra strap.

“Here I was thinking you were just a pretty, tasty little thing… Turns out you’re so much more,” he purrs between kisses. A jolt of pain makes you gasp and then whimper, the sting of it soothed by the way his tongue drags over the spot afterwards.

It takes you a beat to comprehend that he’s just bitten the junction between your neck and shoulder, sunk his sharp teeth in so deep you smell the faint tang of blood.

“Turns out you were meant for me all along,” he says between slow drags of his tongue, lapping at your soft skin. He moans for the taste of it. “Watching you writhe in your bed, wanting me, touching yourself while your useless husband slept. I thought I was the one going fucking insane.”

Comprehension is a slow, creeping thing to your addled mind.  “You were watching me. The dreams, you–”

“Whispered them into your ear while you slept,” he interjects, kissing at the shell of your ear. “You took to ‘em like gasoline takes to a spark,” he says, that voice of his wrapping around your body and limbs like a dozen slithery tendrils. 

The touch of his voice is just as tangible as his hands sliding up your thighs, your stomach, cupping your breasts through your bra. You let out a shuddering moan.

“Every night, I was so sure you’d break. But you didn’t. You won’t.”

His confession brings back images in a flood, untangling dreams from memories. You remember a silhouette standing over you, you remember piercing red eyes glowing in the dark, and you remember the filth he spoke over you that made your body twist and sweat and come harder than you ever have.

All of it intertwines with this very moment, with his hands on you, his body against yours. It has you moaning, writhing back against him the same way you did in your bed beneath his gaze.

“Call your husband,” he tells you, hand slipping between your legs, hooking under your skirt.

“What?” You rasp, clutching at his wrists. You shiver at the hot slide of his tongue just behind your ear.

“Call your husband,” he repeats, thick gloved finger rubbing sparks between your thighs. “Tell him you’re coming home early. Tell him to wait for you in the bedroom.” 

Leaning forward, Homelander snatches the left landline off the desk and pulls it into your lap, resting it atop his hand while he fingers you in slow, precise circles.

You pick up the receiver and dial unsteadily. It doesn’t sound like something you shouldn’t do. Even as it rings, you feel no dread or apprehension. Just the drive to obey the voice cradling your mind and body so very sweetly.

“Hi,” you exhale when he answers the phone, screwing your eyes shut. It takes everything in you just to focus on speaking. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m coming–” your breath catches as Homelander pushes your panties aside and breaches you with a single finger, sliding into your soaked pussy in one slow, continuous slide. 

“I’m coming home early today,” you say, holding both the receiver and Homelander’s wrist in a white-knuckle grip. “Can you wait in the bedroom for me?”

He’s thoroughly confused, but all that does is frustrate you. His voice comes through ugly and nasally over the phone, grating through your nerves instantly. You feel the urge to yell at him, but the breath is stolen from your lungs by the sweet press of Homelander’s thick gloved finger crooking inside you, stroking exactly the right spot to make you see stars.

“Just–just do it, please? Wait in the bedroom, I’ll be–I’ll be home soon.”

You slam down the phone just in time, letting out a cry, lurching forward. The phone tumbles from your lap with a clatter and Homelander catches you with an arm across your chest, pinning you back against his chest.

“Good girl, that’s it. Give it up for me. Lemme feel that pretty pussy come,” he moans, grinding up against you, the sound of his finger pumping into you obscenely loud and wet. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. Whet my appetite. Gimme something before it’s time to fucking eat.”

You come loudly, clenching your legs tightly around his hand. He stops just to feel you tighten and convulse through his glove, his lips and teeth and tongue all wreaking havoc at your throat.

“Fuck,” he sighs, followed by the low rumble of a chuckle. Your thighs shake as he pulls his hand away. You can smell the heady smell of your own slick when he brings his finger to his mouth and sucks the taste of you from it, the sound lewd in your ear.

“You even taste pretty,” he hums, voice frayed like a growl. There’s an inhuman split to his voice, like there’s three of them layered over top of each other.

The whole world feels like it’s spinning. You have no center of gravity, just the sensation of movement as Homelander effortlessly maneuvers you up into his arms. Your head lolls against his chest, vision swimming.

Warm lips press sweetly to your forehead. “Rest up, pretty girl,” he murmurs. The words instantly make you drowsy. “I’ll wake you up when I’m done.”

The world slips into darkness. The last thing you’re aware of is the feeling of flying.

When you come back to consciousness, the darkness remains. You recognize your bedroom ceiling above you, familiar shadows dancing across it, beckoning you awake. 

A dream…?

Your limbs are leaden, weighed down to the bed. You try desperately to untangle the fantastical from what is real, walking backwards through what you remember. Touch, smell, sound, and pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever known. You remember Homelander’s hands on you, in you, his body and voice all around you, the sound of–

Sound. What is that sound? It’s close to you, but you can’t move your head to see. It’s a series of wet, soft squelching noises akin to someone manipulating piles of drenched laundry. Then you hear a crunch like a tree branch snapping, and you start to recognize another sound; panting breaths followed by an erotic moan of pure indulgence.

You open your mouth to speak, but your throat is too tight, and nothing escapes it. As you come back to yourself more and more, you realize the bed beneath you is warm and wet.

You manage to force a noise from the back of your throat, a strained sound born of the effort to move. Next to you, something shifts. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” coos Homelander’s familiar voice. Your heart crashes against your ribcage, the only part of you that can freely move expressing the shock of hearing his voice here in your bed.

“Shhhshhhh, no need for that,” he murmurs, moving into your line of sight, hovering over you. His face is spattered in something dark, but when he smiles his sharp teeth are white and bright, even in the dim moonlight of your bedroom. His voice soothes your frayed nerves almost instantly.

“Take a deep breath,” he says. You do so easily, as if you were never paralyzed. “Good. Perfect timing,” he tells you, his tongue sliding along his teeth, his lips, threads of saliva stretched between his teeth snapping. “I’m still plenty hungry for you.”

He kisses you, swinging his leg over to envelop your body with his. All at once you can move again, your bones no longer weighed down. You relax beneath the press of his lips and the weight of him, exhaling a breath through your nose. 

“Kiss me,” he mumbles fervently. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him with everything you have, your lips sliding slickly against one another. He licks the taste of copper into your mouth.

Blood, a distant part of you realizes. Whatever horror you should feel is replaced by building excitement, his touch reigniting heat throughout your body. Like gasoline takes to a spark.

His lips move to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, trailing bloodied kisses down your throat. He has less patience for your clothes now than he did in your office, tearing your shirt and bra from your body with a feral noise. His hands are upon you instantly, spreading the blood on his hands down your chest, massaging your breasts until he works a needy moan out of you.

“Can’t believe I almost ate you, too,” he says with a smile.  Before you can respond, he leans down to suck your nipple into his mouth, hands sliding lower. You gasp and push your hands into his hair, slicking it back with what sprayed into it. His mouth is inferno hot on your skin, goosebumps erupting over every inch of you. His tongue is a devilish thing, working your nipple in circles, but it’s the light pinch of his teeth that make your whole body lurch.

He makes quick work of your clothing from the waist down, too, stripping you until there’s nothing left between you and the blood soaked fabric of his suit. His hand disappears from you, and you hear a metallic click followed by the hiss of a zipper. He nudges your legs apart to settle properly between them, pulling off of your breast with a satisfied pop. He licks his lips of the blood he had spread to your breast, eyes wild and glowing faintly red.

“Let’s get rid of this while we’re at it,” he says, lifting your hand. He kisses the tip of your ring finger before taking it into his mouth, gaze flickering up to meet yours as he takes it all the way down past your knuckle, your ring disappearing past his lips. He catches the metal band with his teeth and drags it slowly off, sucking your finger clean of it. A chill runs down your spine at the crunch the metal gives as he effortlessly chews and swallows it.

You stare in numb, abject shock, but even that rapidly fades to the fires rolling through you. 

Hands on your thighs, he easily pulls your ass into his lap. You look down to see his cock freed from his suit pants, thick and nicely curved. He bends over you, hitching your legs up over his shoulder, and you feel the flat curve of the bottom of his cock press against your cunt. He grins down at you, rocking his hips to grind through the slick mess he’s made of you.

“Let’s see if you feel as good as you taste,” he says, claiming your lips once more. He pulls his hips back, and you feel the head of his cock drooling precome as it slides over your clit, down to your soaked cunt. The dull stretch of it splitting you open burns, has you keening against his lips. He kisses you again and again and again.

“That’s it, baby. Open up for me. Lemme feel that perfect pussy,” he grits out, voice frayed at the edges like he’s finally beginning to lose that cocky composure of his. Even still, his voice retains that otherworldly aspect to it. He bottoms out with a low moan, hips flush to your body.

“Oh fffffuck,” he groans, cock throbbing against the velvety walls of your cunt. You can feel the pulse of him, even more so when you squeeze. It gives you an unexpected and intoxicating shot of power when doing that makes him gasp. “Perfect. My perfect fuckin’ match, fuck. I knew you would be, I knew you were made for me,” he babbles, bordering on incoherence as he starts to thrust, gripping your ass with one hand while the other goes to the headboard, slamming it against the wall with each snap of his hips.

“H-Homelander,” you moan, tangling both hands in his hair, dragging your nails harshly down his scalp, the back of his neck, throwing your head back against your pillow. 

He gives your ass a sharp slap just to feel the way your cunt clenches with it, a growl rolling from his throat.

“Come with me,” he demands, instantly sending the pressure building in you into a soar. He moves faster, deeper, each slam punching out pitchy noises from you. Every drag of his cock feels like a spark inside you, like the strike of a match igniting stars in your peripheral vision. You come with a near scream, nails biting fruitlessly into Homelander’s skin. 

He rides your orgasm fiercely, fucking you into the bloody mess of your bed until he, too, succumbs to the clench of your cunt. He lets out a guttural cry, the wood of your headboard snapping in his grasp as his release floods you, so hot that it nearly burns.

You’re both panting into each other's mouths, lips occasionally brushing. There’s a possessive growl to the edge of Homelander’s breaths, as if warning anything that might hear of the danger of approaching.

“You’re mine now, you understand?” He says lowly, his velveteen voice hoarse, almost animalistic. “My match, my mate, mine.”

Deliriously, you nod, mind still lost to the aftershocks of your climax, your pussy quivering around the girth of his cock. It’s not enough for Homelander, who gives another sharp thrust, knocking an overstimulated moan out of you. “Do you understand?”

“I understand,” you gasp, meeting his gaze. His harsh expression softens at that, the crimson glow fading from his eyes, leaving only that familiar ocean blue in its wake. He kisses you leisurely, but with no less hunger. He lets your legs slip carefully from his shoulders, but remains buried deep inside you, staking his claim as thoroughly as possible. He kisses your neck, makes you wince when he sucks at the mark he bit into your skin.

“You got no idea how long I’ve been looking for you,” he mumbles, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You stroke your fingers through his hair, soaking in the feeling of his superhuman body thrumming against yours. You tighten your grip in his hair and lift his head, bringing his gaze up to meet yours. He looks curiously at you until that curiosity flips to surprise as you kiss him, earning a pleased little hum from him. 

When you part, his surprise has melted away into something dazed and soft. Something like love, or maybe satiation. The two look so very similar.

Homelander kisses you a while longer before he nestles down against you.

Your head lolls to the side for the first time, and only then do you see the full scope of the horror resting next to you; bones jut out from the mess of viscera and meat, shredded clothing thick with blood and innards. It looks like the work of a rabid animal, something vicious and hungry.

You know instantly that the mess is all that remains of your former husband. 

It occurs to you that you should feel a dozen different awful things about the pile of gore splayed out on your bed, but ultimately, the only thought that lingers is how he finally suits that rotten meat smell.

Looking back to the ceiling, you continue to comb your fingers through Homelander’s hair. His weight is a comfortable thing upon you, and beneath the smell of gore, you’re soothed by the gentle, warm scent of vetiver. Your eyelids grow heavy, and within minutes, you drift to sleep.

When you wake, there is no tang of blood heavy in the air. You sit up in a bed that is both alien and familiar. It isn’t until you see the mirrors around you that you realize that this is the bed from your dreams.

You feel warm, despite the early morning chill beyond the blankets. You feel a tug, and as you look down, Homelander pulls you back down into his arms.

“Mornin’, pretty girl.”

“Morning,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him. He hums pleasantly as you touch him, your hands roaming the naked scape of his body, testing that he’s real. You draw back, brows furrowed.

“Everything alright?” He asks, his voice as rich and creamy as ever.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, a touch uncertain. “Weird dreams.”

He smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss. “Well, you’re awake now.”

Somehow, you’re not so certain. 

Regardless, you huff a little laugh and snuggle back into his arms. 

“Love you,” you say, losing yourself to the familiar comfort of a partner in your arms, in your bed, in your heart. The longer you’re there, the more the dreams fade away, replaced with the reality of your waking world and the sweet smell of vetiver.

Homelander squeezes you to his chest, stroking idly up and down your back with his knuckles. You can hear the smile in his voice as he returns, “I love you, too.”

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

Rindou x Reader

wc: 1200

angst, fluff

not edited

Rindou loves you. You know he does, but he has this annoying habit of not listening to you sometimes. Especially when it comes to recommendations. You recommend him food? Yeah, he'll try it. spoiler alert: he forgets. what about a movie you watched the other day and liked so much that you told him to watch it immediately? "Yeah, when I have time I will" is his answer. However, he'll only watch it if someone else recommends it too not even remembering you mentioning anything about it. And then he has the nerve to tell you all about it while you listen to him unimpressed. Sometimes it makes you feel like your opinion matters very little to him but you've never told him this. Part of you doesn't want to seem like an insecure girlfriend while the other part thinks there is no deep meaning to this.

This war in your mind ended when you entered your bedroom after having a bad day and saw Rindou sitting on the bed leaning his back on the headboard and "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" in his hands. You remember telling him how you cried reading it. However, you're surprised he's reading what you recommended. sensing your presence Rindou removed his glasses and looked at you.

"Tired?"

"Exhausted" you sit beside him "Do you like it?" you ask indicating the book.

He shrugs

"I've only read 20 pages yet. But Kakucho said it's really good"

You roll your eyes. thinking that you should've seen this coming you mumble "Of course he did" which wasn't as quiet as you expected because Rindou turned to you with a confused hum. You just shake your head as in "nothing" and try to get up but Rindou grips your arm and makes you sit back down. You sigh not having enough energy to deal with this.

"What is it?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"Should I be?"

He closed the book setting it aside as he turned to me with narrowed his eyes as if sensing the trap.

"I... don't know. What did I do?"

"It's nothing Rindou, let me go"

Your words had the opposite effect as his grip tightened.

"That's not my name" His voice got low

"Uh it actually is"

"Not for you. Did I fuck up that badly?"

Now that you think about it no he didn't. It's probably you who's overreacting and creating a problem over nothing. You sound ridiculous even to you and you hate yourself.

"It's really nothing. I've just had a bad day so... I just wanna sleep"

After a moment of hesitation, Rindou let you go, his eyes following as you got changed and got in bed turning your back to him. As you lay in bed your overthinking got worse. The fact that he doesn't know what he's doing affects you this badly means that he's not doing it on purpose. But that's even worse. Does that mean that he doesn't even value your opinion enough to think about how neglecting it would affect you? Maybe he thinks you don't care about it so he doesn't too. Or maybe he just forgets. This also means he doesn't care. Every version you think about leads to you thinking he doesn't care and that feels really shitty.

On the other hand, Rindou was watching you lying silently with your back to him and he knew then he definitely did something wrong. You get in bed and do not snuggle up to him planting your head in his neck? Yes, something is terribly wrong.

"C'mon love, tell me what's wrong" he snaked his arm around your waist, and turns out this is all it took for your tears to run free. You bite your lip to stop it from trembling feeling so stupid for crying over something so trivial.

"And don't you dare to say it's nothing bec- are you crying?"

Rindou could swear he heard his heart crash. He turned you around to face him. tucking your hair behind your ear he quickly wiped your tears.

"Hey, don't cry, i- I'm sorry okay? Whatever I did, I didn't mean it just don't cry"

Even though he thought, and has told you this plenty of times, that you looked pretty when you cried, he hated when you cried. Even more, when he was the reason behind those tears.

"Talk to me please?"

Looking anywhere but at him, you opened your mouth to speak.

"It's really stupid"

"So stupid that you're crying over it? I don't care, tell me."

You don't want to.

"It's just... sometimes you don't listen to me"

Rindou was confused. You sound so crazy to him right now. He doesn't listen to you? You have him wrapped around your finger. Your word is a fucking law to him and you have the nerve to say that he doesn't listen to you? He only listens to you.

"What do you mean?"

"Everything I suggest you just forget until someone else suggests the same thing. Like-" You sniffle between speech "Like this book. You're reading it because Kakucho told you, but I told you to read it weeks ago"

The more you talk the more you want to shut up. Dreading seeing Rindou's expression you focus on your hands.

"It feels like you don't care about my opinion. It's so stupid I know..."

"I don- What?" Rindou couldn't help but exclaim. His mind processing thousands of thoughts right now. You think he doesn't care? How long have you been feeling like this? And you didn't tell him? Is there anything else you're not telling him because it's so "stupid"? "Listen, love, I'm so sorry, I didn't know- Of course, I care, Who do you think I listen to if not you? Ran? Fucker used to think Julius Caeser was named after the salad."

That made you chuckle and it was like a rainbow after the storm for Rindou. A sound he never wants to stop hearing. smiling at you he continued.

"I do listen to you okay? I remember every little detail you tell me. Starting with the shows you watch to the drama going on at your work. By the way, Rika got what she deserved, she was being the bitch first."

"That's what I'm saying" You exclaim and Rindou was so happy he could see you smiling again.

"I don't want you to doubt your value in my life okay? You're the best thing ever happened to me and I'd be a dumbass if I didn't appreciate you. And don't ever try to hide things from me again. No matter how stupid you think it is. Nothing is stupid to me when it comes to you. So no more tears, alright?"

You nod scooting closer.

"alright"

Rindou wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest, kissing the crown of your head.

"By the way, I started reading this book because you suggested it. Kakuchou saw it in my car when I bought it and told me it was good"

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Sleep now"

"Goodnight"

"Goodnight, love"

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

got the idea from modern family's one episode

might delete this one too later, not sure. just felt like sharing

[hobunaga]

UPDATED VERSION, thank you @guzhufuren for the additional info!!!

my friend wanted me to make a chart of, Meet you at the Blossom, characters and what their relationship is. Now I don't know everything, I don't even know if I got the names correct but I hope this clarifies a little what is going on here.

here are some clarifications(careful, spoilers)

Xiaobao's parents: Xiaobao's dad found Xiaobao's mom wandering around town one day and assumed she was the daughter of a wealthy family and had lived a really sheltered life(she is). He got her drunk, they slept together and he took responsibility by marrying her and taking care of her.

Tong'en: Now I don't know for sure if she loved any of the men that I attached her to, but they were in love with her so I kinda just added it in case her feelings were genuine or if she was only doing what she had to to survive. The only person I can confirm she truly cared for is Zongzheng Qiyuan and they had a brotherly and sisterly bond only.

Xue Xiaoyu: Now ya'll might be wondering why she has a red line towards Xiaobao and it's kinda given that she has a big crush on him. Her cousin however is his true love so I think she'll put on her big girl pants eventually and move on. Her brother is Xue Lianyu, Xiaobao's best friend. She is also the cousin of Huai'en.

Que Siming and Jinbao: They have 2 names cause in the extra I read, they had changed their names at least once. Jinbao was originally known as Wang Erhu and Que Siming was called Yue Siming. Que Siming was most likely adopted by the doctor whom was caring for him after his father was sentenced for treason and Jinbao was sold to Xiaobao at a young age.

Jinbao and Zhao Cai and Que Siming: Similar to the Xiaobao, Su Yin, and Huai'en jealousy trope, Que Siming's jealousy is mainly centered around Jinbao and Zhao Cai's relationship. Now I don't know if Jinbao has a thing for Zhao Cai, but Jinbao maybe masturbated to Zhao Cai once??? or Zhao Cai ran into him while he was masturbating??? I don't know... if someone can interpret this scene let me know because English is not my first language.

Zhao Cai and Medicine Girl: In Jinbao's side story, Jinbao Marries a Wife, it was stated that Zhao Cai was in a heated relationship with this medicine girl and frequently went out to see her during the time Xiaobao was still sick with the cold needle poison. I don't know if they end up together at the end but it was the only relationship that was mentioned in the story for him.

Shaoyu and Su Yin: So apparently there is a one sided interest in their interactions according to the awe inspiring @guzhufuren . When I read it, I wasn't sure how to exactly interpret their relationship but I can see it now that Shaoyu is just as obsessive and possessive as his older brother is. Good luck getting away, Su Yin!

Shaoyu and Huai'en: Half brothers with a somewhat refreshing ending in the live action that hints that there is a possibility of them bonding later in the future. Now I'm not sure which woman mothered Shaoyu, but I'm going to assume it's the ex empress which makes them half-brothers(well Tong'en only birthed one child so it's a given). Now usually if the mother loses the favor of the emperor to even be demoted out of being empress, that must mean that it heavily affects Shaoyu's standing as crown prince as well. Luckily no other princes were mentioned so it's more likely that Huai'en won't compete for the throne and Shaoyu will still inherit it.

The Zongzhen 4 brothers: Now they're just fucking insane and the only sane one is Zongzhen Qiyuan. Even the emperor is a little cuckoo but hey, that's what stress does to you right? They need to sit down, relax, and chill a little. I'm so glad two of them greatly support Huai'en's decisions.

ps: I'm sorry if I got the names wrong or I didn't name a few of the characters. Either way, I think this is the relationship chart?

[pukanavis]

Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 2

ーA basic studio within the ES building, two years since the establishment of ES

Fuyume: …

Midori: …

(What am I supposed to do?)

(This new kid…Hanamura-san, was it? The staff told him that I'm going to be using my experience in the field to guide him through today’s job.)

(It’s already been a whole 20 minutes since then and neither of us have said a word to each other..)

Fuyume: …

Midori: (I-I have to do what they told me to and teach him what he needs to do. I know I suck at this stuff but between the two of us, I’m the one who’s more familiar with this type of work.)

(But there’s no way I can bring myself to do it. I really, really don’t want to.)

(This kid is radiating an aura that screams ‘don’t talk to me’...this whole time, he’s been doing something on his phone while occasionally whispering and muttering to himself.)

(I think…he’s even been taking selfies and posting them online…?)

(It feels like he’s in a world of his own making.)

(I’m scared~, I don’t like it~ , I don’t wanna talk to him~...)

(Now that I think about it, he was there listening when the staff put me in charge of coaching him so he must know what’s going on too.)

(He should be turning to me and saying something like ‘Please give me your guidance, Senpai!’. It’s the polite thing to do, really.)

Fuyume: …Um.

Midori: !? Y-Yes? What’s the matter…?

Fuyume: …They’re calling Yume.

Midori: (Huh, what does that mean? Is he one of those people that hear voices that aren’t there? Is he 'cuckoo', as people used to say?)

Fuyume: It looks like it’s time for Yume to go up now.

Midori: (Oh, right, the staff are calling for him. Seems like they’re ready to start the shoot.)

(What do I do? I didn’t teach him how to do a single thing.)

(From what I’ve heard, it sounds like this kid is a popular amateur model? I think they call it a cos…player?)

(There’s no need for me to come in acting high and mighty and tell him what to do, right?)

(I bet he’s already familiar with how these jobs work. He seems so confident for some reason…?)

Fuyume: Fufufu. Yume will do his best.

Today, you’re all invited to step into Yume’s world

Fuyume: Sniffle. Sniffle sniffle.

Midori: (What am I supposed to do?)

(All that confidence he was giving off was just a front…)

(He doesn’t know the first thing about professional modelling and kept insisting on using methods from his amateur days.)

(I wonder what that one staff member did to have this kid going off at him the entire time? Just when I thought he’s behaving well, he suddenly started berating and denying that guy’s humanity.)

(Not to mention all the complaints he has about the lighting or the costume...)

(He started telling the staff to take pictures from his cutest angle and even asked to wear the outfit he had brought along himself.)

(After all the back and forth, it was agreed to put the shoot on hold for a while. When this guy realised the staff weren’t going to listen to his opinions, that's when the tears started...)

(The staff asked me to see if I could do something to motivate him or change his mindset but…is that even in the job description? Shouldn’t this be the responsibility of a manager or something?)

(Who am I kidding? We probably wouldn’t be in this mess if I had just done my job and shown him what to do from the start.)

(I’m at fault here too, so I feel like I should at least do something.)

Fuyume: Midori-sama.

Midori: Huh? Yes, what’s…wait, ‘Midori-sama’ ?

Fuyume: Yume has seen you in a magazine before and thought you were as dashing as a prince. Fufu.

So you’re Midori-sama. ‘Cause you’re a prince. Fufufu.

Needless to say, you don’t have what it takes to be called Yume’s prince, since that title is already taken by another.

There is no sin in beauty. Fufufufu.

Midori: (Huh…? What is he talking about…? I don’t understand a word that’s coming out of his mouth. Are all the kids like this these days…?)

(Hey, wait a second? He’s acting surprisingly unfazed for somebody that I thought was crying into his hands just a minute ago? Was he faking it…?)

Fuyume: Melon soda, plum and kelp tea, coffee.

Midori: ? What? Are you casting some kind of spell?

Fuyume: I’m trying to make the drink that Esu found during his adventure. What else was in it again…?

Midori: I-It’s going to taste awful if you mix so many random flavours together.

Fuyume: I’ll be able to drink it. I will drink it. I want to relive Esu’s story for myself.

Bottoms up. Glug glug…

……

Fuyume: …

Midori: Tastes awful, huh…? I warned you not to drink it. You can tell just from looking at it how bad of an idea that is.

Here, spit it into this cup.

Fuyume: Urgh, Yume has a long way to go.

His image of a perfect princess is still far out of reach.

—I’m sorry, Midori-sama.

Midori: Uh, for what? I can’t keep up with this conversation…

Fuyume: Yume messed up again…he couldn’t keep his ego in check and screwed up the job. He even made Midori-sama mad.

So…Yume is sorry.

Midori: Oh, uh, you did cause a lot of problems but…no, nevermind, that’s not true. I should be apologising too. I was trusted to be your mentor but I haven’t taught you a single thing.

I’ve failed as a senpai, huh?

Fuyume: It’s alright. Besides, even if you had given Yume some pointers, if he didn’t like what he heard, he'd probably just get annoyed and ignore you.

He’s always been like this—so egotistical. It’s the only princess quality he has.

Regardless, Yume is sorry. The staff member that Yume was blowing up at was someone he had met before. They'd shown up to one of Yume’s photo shoots in the past with a super bigheaded attitude.

They were giving out business cards and masquerading as a professional. It was seriously the worst, they started taking over and ruined the mood on set.

A photo shoot is supposed to be a part of Yume’s world.

Ever since that day, Yume hasn’t been able to forget all the hate and frustration that he felt. When he saw that they were here today, he couldn’t stop his emotions from bursting out.

Yume can’t stand being in their line of sight. He hates being treated like a toy and having that person making up their own ideas of him…so, uhm, he’s sorry.

Yume honestly never wanted to cause all this trouble for you.

Yume was hoping we could get along…he wanted to talk to you but he was too embarrassed and nervous to know how to.

You looked like you were in a bad mood today, Midori-sama. The vibe you were giving off made it seem like you didn’t want anyone to approach you.

Midori: (Oh…)

(So we both had the same impression of each other…I should’ve known that he’d be feeling nervous about his first professional job.)

(Even I was feeling anxious when I first arrived on set.)

(I know how it feels to be in his position…that’s exactly why they asked me to be his mentor today.)

(I’m terrible, aren’t I? I’m never going to make any growth.)

Hanamura-san.

Fuyume: Yes?

Midori: Let’s go and apologise to the staff once you’ve had a drink and taken a moment to calm down.

Fuyume: Yume doesn’t want to apologise.

Midori: Oh…okay, I understand. If you want, I can go and ask for the staff member that doesn't like you to be removed.

It’s within our right to request things like that. You can even step away from jobs you don’t want to do too.

Fuyume: …

Midori: That being said, if we don’t do our jobs properly, we’ll cause problems for even those that don’t have anything against you, Hanamura-san.

We'll end up being hated and labelled as 'someone I don't want to work with' by the people around us.

Fuyume: Yume hates being hated.

Midori: Then let’s go and give them a proper apology. Once we’ve done that, we can focus on finishing off the job.

It might be late, but I’ll teach you the correct methods to use. Since I’m your senpai, I’ll make sure I put you on the right path.

Admittedly, this’ll be tough for me…I’m not important enough to be bossing people around, and I suck at talking to people too.

Fuyume: Mm…Yume isn’t good at it either. People always seem to get confused when he tries to have a normal conversation with them. It’s weird.

Midori: That was meant to be a normal conversation earlier…? You really do live in a world of your own.

(Crap, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. He’s probably going to get mad at me now. Judging by the way he seems to hate being challenged, I’ll bet that he always had his way in the amateur world.)

Fuyume: Fufufu. Thank you, Midori-sama.

Midori: (Huh? He took it surprisingly well? This kid doesn't make any sense to me…)

Fuyume: Yume wants to put his world on display for everyone to see.

He's grateful that you noticed its existence.

You made Yume happy, so Yume must thank you.

Fufufufu, Yume just had a sudden burst of motivation. He’s going to turn over a new leaf and do the very best he can to make sure this job is a success. 

Midori: R-Right…I’m glad you’ve found some motivation.

I’ll do some reflecting of my own and give it my all too.

Let’s work together to finish this job, Hanamura-san.

Fuyume: Stop saying ‘Hanamura-san’, Yume wants you to call him ‘Yume’ instead. It’s been getting on his nerves all day. Yume doesn’t feel like working anymore.

Midori: Whaaat…?

[year2000electronics]

you should use this ask to talk about 1961 Otto :]{

YAAAY

so. all my favourite ocks have the arms be a sort of reflection of otto’s fatal flaw (with exception to olivia just bc we don’t really get to hear how or why she invented her arms)

- raimi otto’s arms appeal to his ego and hubris and convince him he couldn’t have been wrong

- spectacular otto’s arms give him the power he always craved to fight back against norman and become the bully instead of the bullied

- ps4 otto’s arms aren’t uniformly designed for the good of mankind, they’re designed for himself above all else and are just extensions of the selfish and paranoid person he’s become

and so on and so forth. so for MY otto, he’s a science teacher who was never able to settle down with anyone or have kids but he’s always REALLY wanted a family and that’s kinda why he puts up with the teaching job y’know? because all these kids are kinda like his kids, at least for a year or so. but at the end of the day they have their real guardians to go back to, and they all graduate eventually and stop visiting. so he kinda gets lonelier specifically because he won’t admit to himself that that’s what he’s doing (seeking out companionship).

so then peter parker comes along and he has him as a student for even longer than normal thanks to pete taking some early high school prep classes and he’s there for may when ben dies and everything, pete really sees him as a father figure and he’s pretty much become part of the family! but then peter’s senior year comes along. and that means he’s gonna have to graduate.

peter is struggling with this on his own, he doesn’t want everything to change and for him to lose the place that’s been his life for 4 years, little does he know otto is ALSO panicking because his basically-son is gonna graduate and move on and forget all about him!! and he’s freaking out. but again we see 1961 otto’s flaw of gaining something personally via hiding his intentions, he doesn’t want to tell peter and may that he sees them as family because what if they don’t see him like that? he just wants EVERYTHING TO STAY THE EXACT SAME WITH NO CHANGE SO HE FEELS IN CONTROL OF THE SITUATION.

but of course he keeps panicking and instead of the “risky” option of telling peter and may, he decides that “hey, if they leave and forget about me, then i can just make myself a backup! i’ll pour my heart and soul into making these robotic arms that i’ll SAY are for people who live alone who need extra help like the elderly, but are actually for me so i can simulate companionship!” (again, being duplicitous about what he wants by pretending it’s for a different reason than it actually is!) but of course, at the oscorp inventor’s expo he brings the arms to, he suffers a terrible accident and they get fused to him, ai and all

so obviously since otto’s greatest wish was for a family who he could control, when the arms gain sentience and start speaking to him (because come on i had to that’s such a great idea for the arms) it’s not in a “no inhibitor chip now i’m following their programming” way it’s a “hello dad it’s us, Your Children :)” way. the accident increased all of their violent tendencies by tenfold and made them all a bit cuckoo, so otto decides once he’s off of bed rest, that “hey! i know how i can stop peter’s graduation! he can’t graduate if the ceremony just never happens, right?!” (desperate actions of a control freak, you understand) so he attacks the graduation ceremony and peter has to save his classmates including flash. well, that plan failed, but y’know what? otto’s OTHER kids aren’t attacking him anyways! hmph! so he disappears into the night, becoming spider-man’s nemesis, doc ock

all of that was for the “graduation day” arc of my au, the rest of my au takes place after a timeskip when pete’s an adult working at the bugle! so when we zero back in on otto, we see he’s learned nothing and gotten even Worse. he starts his own villain team, the sinister six, but how he recruits each member is that they’re suffering, usually from their own backstory stuff, and he helps them back onto their feet so now they adore him and see him as their caretaker! and they’re all one big family, don’t you think? doc ock DEFINITELY ISNT LYING ABOUT WHY HE’S SAVING THESE SUPERVILLAINS AGAIN.

you can see that throughline in their recruitment order too, we go from electro to vulture to sandman, each who fell victim to horrific accidents or unethical experiments, then you have mysterio, whose only wound is his ego after he got fired, and then the final member is norman osborn himself, the green goblin, who was indirectly responsible for a lot of their backstories. but otto takes in norman saying “oh well he’s just like us, he’s wounded, we must turn the other cheek and take care of him” when really he knows norman is full of shit, doing this goblin thing for personal gain and is entirely in control of his actions, and is lying about it by pretending that it’s an “evil dark entity taking over me” situation. but norman has power and influence and otto needs that influence. also they have a bit of a weird gay thing. so otto plays along with norman’s ruse

ANYWAYS YEAH that’s my otto for you! his arc ends with my own version of superior spider man where otto finally realizes how terrible he’s been to peter and everyone around him by being forced to see the world through eyes that aren’t his :) he and peter make up by the time my miles morales arc starts. he’s such a weirdo i love him. he needs to get therapy!

[kit-williams]

Cuckoo Anon

Firmly assuming this would be non Canon but this popped in my head and I Must spread it!

Everybody Here is 21+

You know those kinda cheesy romance novels you see in the book/magazine sections of stores?

With handsome, sometimes shirtless, men holding collapsing women in long silk gowns? With titles like The Highlander's Woman or Drowned by Temptation.

...You have to turn your eyes away with a blush as you walk past the book section in your local grocery store.

Astarte romance novels, a Whole new genre has popped up over night and you are Not coping well.

They range in subject and Marine type, Taming the Chaos, Renegade Revelry, His Loyalty Abounds.

Oh lord you are So embarrassed but you can't look away! Or rather you keep flitting your eyes trying to not look, only for them to get pulled back.

The photography for them was honestly immaculate, and that makes you both respect the artist, and loath them all at once.

Good lord, you should just hurry up before Your Astartes gets back from finding his items.

Then again...a quick peak wouldn't hurt. Just for curiosity! In fact you'll Only read the description! Not actually going to read about...that kind of stuff with a Space Marine.

You reach for the shelf.

"Hrm?"

"Eep!" You jump at a familiar grumbling greeting behind you. Whipping around you see your Astarte, with him is a cart full of items he'd set out to retrieve. His posture portrays confusion at your sudden outburst.

Your embarrassment doubles, and your blush erupts filling your face and neck with heat. "Ah h-hey b-buddy! Don't sneak up on me like that! You almost made me jump out my skin! Hahaha." You try to play it off, while blocking his view of the shelves that must not be named.

Your Astartes still looks confused. He tries to peak around your body.

You move to intercept. "Ah hey! Did you find all you stuff?? Great! Great! Let's head home I'm pretty ti-ERD!" You yelp as you big fella gently picks you up and places you to the side.

"Wait No No No! Don't look!" He holds you back just using one arm as if blocking a pet trying to snatch something off a plate.

You can't bear to watch and cover your face with your hands. Maybe he won't understand the titles? Oh please let him not understand your written language! He has eyes doesn't he? He'll clearly be able to see you were eying books about handsome space marines sweeping mortals off their feet. You're pretty sure Astartes can understand Context Clues!

"Hrm..." Your woken from your dooming as your marine grunts again, and you peak through your hands. He's  straightening his posture, and he's-he's got something in his hand.

He'd plucked one of those FORSAKEN romance novels off the shelf, then without another word, places it in the cart.

He then sets the cart in the right direction, and with an exceptional gentleness brings his ceramite clad arm behind your person to usher you foreward.

Curiosity, though baneful to you already, bids you look at which one he'd grabbed. Perhaps he thought you wanted it and were too embarrassed to ask. The thought makes want to melt into the floor.

Until what you see surprises you. The book in question doesn't feature your marine type on the cover, not even a similar faction. But the human model does share some physical qualities with...you??

You glance up at your Astartes as you walk. He glances to you, and...the arm behind you moves from simply nudging you along, to being gently but tenderly wrapped around your form, bringing you closer to him.

You blush for an all New reason, as your space marine continues to proceed to the checkout.

Maybe...maybe those novels aren't so bad after all.

I like to think a lot of these are penned by either people fucking/getting fucked by their Astartes OR are written by Astartes themselves. Oh sure you'd expect the far more SPICY novellas to be written by either noise marines or Chaos space marines dedicated to Slaanesh right but then there's one or two that's being written by a Black Templar with a pen name and a whole god damn author persona because he would rather flog himself publicly naked then let anyone know he's the one writing those erotica level novellas about a Chaos Space Marine seeking redemption and using the power of love as a way to heal, and of course the other series he writes about some mortal and a Black Templar.

Of course I also see the grocery store romance novellas also sometimes being set back home usually just either sticking to a single location but given the scale of 40k that either single fortress monastery or battlecruiser is large enough to contain the plot. Also you bed your britches that for those photography ones that got some battle brother from that specific warband/chapter/legion to pose because if you're going to have a trashy cover and use photographs and not god damn paintings that they use to have then its going to be accurate. (Its the Emperor's Children... both Loyal and Chaos who handle this)((Occasionally the Blood Angels))

As for you dear reader... how cheesy some of these stories can be though sometimes they have a habit of veering off into borderline horror at times with how grim and dark some plot lines can get. Sure if you pick one up about and probably written by a Chaos Space Marine there might be a likely hood of casual sacrifices being mentioned though bless the editors and publishers for making sure those stories are properly tagged. However, even the darker novellas tend to follow the 'power of love' trope, the guy gets the gal, etc. (For better or worse in the case of Night Lord stalker and/or yandere romance/erotica novellas)

Goodness me what started out as one or two books has amassed into a collection... and you don't think you can find anymore to add to it when you clearly get ahold of a story written for an Astartes verses a human. How can you tell? Well besides it being written in gothic and from what you've been able to translate how it is written in a very different style... but far more focused on the mortal. Perhaps like with the different types of marines they've got stories that focus on the mortal?

You can't say only speculate as your Astartis refuses to answer you. But how are you to know he's been writing about you and all the filthy things he would love to do to you. Basing the pair in his books, for both mortals and Astartes, off of the two of you. But who can say... its only speculation.

Tag list: @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams @barn-anon

[oneknightstand-if]

*Cuckoo mc says/does something strange*

Adrian: “I sure hope that wasn’t foreshadowing something

*It was, indeed, foreshadowing something*

Merlin: “Interesting…”

It all makes me really curious how a Cuckoo mc works!

Oh hey, guess what finally gets to be posted 2 months later since the Chapter 2-2 update finally got released to the general public. And after that long wait, all I can say is...

The characters are acting in-character for themselves. Sometimes the ones who know the most about what's going on are the least likely to mention it.

[peculiar-peculiars]

Right On Time| Enoch O’Connor X Fem! Reader Pt. 2

A/N: I know it’s been months y’all, I’m so sorry (writers block is a bitch and a half lol) but just recently, inspiration struck and now, part 2 is finally here and hopefully just as good as part 1 sdfghjkl.  Please enjoy!

(part 1 here)

As the afternoon sun began to raise higher above the peculiar children's home, Enoch stood at the doorway to (Y/n)'s room as she rummaged around underneath her bed.

“Well, the jar’s not under here either, this is the last place that I could think of to search.”

"So, what do we do now? We've looked everywhere around the house and the jar is nowhere to be found. At this point, we're better off cutting our losses and going about our days." Shrugged Enoch as he picked at the chipping paint of the door.

"Yeah, I don't think so! You said you would help me find it, so that is exactly what you will do, no matter how long it takes."

"And what will you do if I don't? Destroy my room and the kitchen again like some kind of tornado?" Enoch smirked as he knelt down next to (Y/n).

"Haha, very funny! If I didn't need your help, I would absolutely be kicking your butt right now..." (Y/n) replied sarcastically as she got up from the floor to sit on her bed and put on her shoes.

"That doesn't answer my question, (L/n)."

"Must you be so annoying all the time?! You're always so impatient!"

"And I'll keep being impatient until we actually end up finding your heart! So where do we look now?!"

"Well, if its not anywhere around the house then that leaves just one place that it could be..."

"And that is?"

"Somewhere just outside the shop in town." (Y/n) sighed as she crossed her arms with a sputter of her lips.

"What? Why would it be there?" Asked Enoch with a confused expression.

"Sometimes, Hugh will take it and sell it to the shopkeepers son for money for candy. I told him not to do it again, but he never listens. I always get it back, of course, but it's frustrating when he does that."

"If that's the case, then should we start walking to town? If we want to get there and back before The Bird resets the loop, We'll have to go now."

"Ugh, I hate it when you're right... Let's go and get this over with, corpse-brain." Groaned (Y/n) as she pushed herself off of her mattress.

"After you, cuckoo's nest!"

As the pair quickly made their way out of the house and down the path to Cairnholm Village, the air was filled with nothing but the sound of small animals chittering and footsteps against gravel. Walking side by side, Enoch and (Y/n) tried to avoid any and all eye contact as they looked at the plants and hills they passed.

Eventually getting sick of the deafening emptiness growing between them, Enoch finally spoke as he rubbed the back of his head.

“So, why exactly is the heart so important to you? It isn’t like you need it anymore since you obviously have your clock in it’s place.”

(Y/n) scoffed as she spun her head to look at him with an slightly annoyed glint in her eyes.

“Why do you want to know so badly?”

“If I’m gonna be forced to help you find it, I might as well know why it means so much for you to still have it in your room.”

(Y/n) looked at the boy with with watchful eyes before sighing and glancing back down to her feet. With a shrug of her shoulders as she watched her shoes stamp against the pathway, she began to speak again.

“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure... I think part of it is that it’s the one thing that reminds me I’m still human. I mean, I’ve got a mechanical heart and have been living in an eternal loop for over half a century, so it’s hard not to feel like some kind of freak on occasion...”

Enoch stopped in place as he turned to look at the girl by his side. Without realizing what he was doing, he placed a hand on her shoulder to spin her towards him.

“Hey, you are not a freak. If anything, you’re the most boring ward at the house, and I mean that as a compliment.”

“That’s a weird way to compliment someone, O’Connor.”

“It’s the truth, though. Being boring is a good thing when it comes to peculiars like us. You’re able to live a simpler life than someone like Millard or Claire or even me. To be honest, I envy you at times.”

“Really? You, of all people, envy me?”

“Of course. I would give the world to be more like you. Your simple peculiarity is what makes you special, (L/n), whether you think so or not.”

“Well, thank you. I appreciate that.” (Y/n) smiled softly.

Enoch gently smiled and nodded his head in reply before the distant sound of a bell reached his ears.

Focusing back to what was ahead of them, the two peculiars looked back up to see a black roof pop over the edge of the hill they had been climbing. 

“Hey, look! We’re here!” (Y/n) announced, speeding up her walk as the edge of town had finally been spotted.

As they wandered through the village, people gave the two teens suspicious glances, but decided not to do anything as they passed by, opting to go back to whatever work they had been previously doing. Before too long, they approached an alleyway, where a small crowd parted revealing a teenaged boy showing his friends the jar with (Y/n)’s heart.

"There he is. Follow me!" (Y/n) said as she began to jog over to the red-haired boy.

As the two peculiars approached the shop-keep's son, he turned around to acknowledge their presence with a tilt of his head.

"Excuse us! I think you have something that belongs to us, so could we have it back please?" 

"No way, I worked long and hard to get this heart right here. I'm gonna sell it to a scientist, it's a fine specimen for analysis if I do say so m'self!"

"Ok, first off, I know that my friend Hugh sold it to you a few hours ago and second, it's mine anyway, so could you please just give it back?" (Y/n) requested as she pinched at the bridge of her nose.

"Well, what's in it for me, little missy?” The teenager smirked to his friends as he looked down upon her.

"How about you getting to keep all of your teeth, you little brat?!" Hissed (Y/n) as the ticking of her heart slowly grew faster and louder as she grew angrier.

When Enoch realized that the noise of the cuckoo clock chiming could get the both of them caught by the villagers and in big trouble with Miss Peregrine, he stepped in between the two to try and diffuse the situation.

(Y/n) huffed angrily as Enoch gave her a warning glimpse before pivoting back around to speak to the puzzled red-head.

"Ok, listen up, we don't have a lot of time or a lot of patience for this right now, so if you give us that jar, I’ll give you these in exchange."

Turning around to reach into his pocket to grab something, he pulled out a handful of tiny hearts, possibly taken from mice and small rabbits.

"Why do you have those in your pocket?” The boy asked with a slightly disgusted look on his face.

"C’mon, man, Are you gonna take them or not?!" Enoch urged angrily as he shoved his hand towards the boy.

Warily looking at the hearts in Enoch's hand for a moment, the boy shrugged before handing the jar to (Y/n) and taking the pile of miniscule organs. 

“Shame you have to leave so soon, that heart of yours is quite the beauty!” The teen teased (Y/n) before spinning around with a brash laugh.

As the boy departed with his friends, she scowled at them before sighing in relief as she held the jar up to inspect for any cracks or leaks. When she saw it was unharmed, she carefully placed it into one arm and pulled Enoch into an embrace with the other.

“Oh, thank you so much, Enoch! You have no idea how much this means to me!”

A fire-red blush arose on to Enoch’s face as he felt (Y/n)’s face grow wide with a smile. Hurriedly clearing his throat to dispel his nerves, he pulled away from the hug as he tried to hide his bashful expression.

“Ok, we’ve got it back, now let’s go.” Enoch grumbled, glaring angrily at the shopkeepers son before taking (Y/n)’s hand and pulling her back the way they came. 

As they traveled back down the roads to the children’s home, (Y/n) hummed joyfully as she talked to Enoch.

“I still can’t believe you did that for me! You needed those hearts for your homunculi, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, well, I figured today would be as good a day as any to give them up. That guy needed a heart that matched the size of his brain, so I figured I’d give him a few of them.” Quipped Enoch with a sly smile.

Seeing (Y/n) smile in his presence was rare for him, so when she started giggling softly at his joke, he found that his own heart matched the speed of her clocks ticking hands.

"You know, you're not so scary sometimes, O'Connor. When you come out of your shell, you can actually be kind of funny." Sighed (Y/n) as she kicked at a few pebbles on the ground.

"I can say the same about you yelling at me all the time. You're pretty nice for a cuckoo bird who won’t stop chirping in my face."

"Oh, you wound me, sir! And here I thought we were becoming friends!”

“Whoa, I never said that!” Enoch laughed as he held up his hands in surrender.

“You didn’t have to! I could tell just by looking at you that you want to be my very best friend!” Joked (Y/n) as they climbed an incline in the road.

“Ok, ok, we can be friends! Just be careful, you’re going to fall if you don’t watch where you’re stepping.” 

“Oh, please, I’m as careful as careful can-” (Y/n) began to claim before she yelped out a shrill shriek.

Not having paid attention to where she was going, (Y/n) had slipped on a pile of loose rocks, falling towards a ditch that ran along the side of the treelined path.

"(Y/n)!" Shouted Enoch as she stumble after she lost her footing.

Not wanting to break the jar by dropping it or falling on it, she hastily tried to move her body so that her back hit the grimy pit . Bracing herself for a rough landing, (Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut as she fell through the air. 

Expecting to come in contact with bumpy, jagged stones and wet dirt, (Y/n) was surprised when the only thing she could feel was the soft breeze in the air and something around her waist.

Opening her eyes again, she looked down to see a pair of arms circling around her middle. 

Cautiously bringing her head back up, (Y/n) held in a breath as she realized she was face to face with Enoch, who had caught her just before she had hit the rocky ground.

The two stood unmoving for a moment, looking into each others eyes before the boy decided to break the awkward silence that filled the air.

"Are you okay?..." Enoch questioned carefully.

"Yes, I- I think so... thank you for... catching me." (Y/n) responded as she timidly cast her eyes to the side.

"You're welcome..."

"Uh... you can let me go now..."

"Oh, yeah, sorry...” Enoch muttered, letting go of (Y/n) and smoothing out a wrinkle in his shirt.

With a mumble of appreciation, (Y/n) stood up straight and took a step back before shaking her head.

“Um, I think I’m gonna stay here for a minute. You know, just to make sure the jar didn’t break...”

“Are you sure? I can wait with you.” 

“I’ll be fine, you go on ahead. I might be a little while anyway, just make sure Miss Peregrine doesn’t realize I’m not there .”

“Alright, if you’re sure... See you back at home, then...”

Enoch waved half-heartedly before stuffing his hands in his pockets and continuing to hike his way back towards the house.

As (Y/n) watched him walk further down the path, a warm heat rose to her cheeks as she thought about the events from earlier.

Despite their constant arguments with each other, Enoch still offered to help her look for her heart and gave up some of his own collection to get it back, and not one minute ago, he caught her from falling when he could just as easily have let her hit the ground.

Even with their past fights, they would always try to make up later by giving each other small gifts or leaving dinner at each others door when they were late to eat.

Yes, she might have hated his guts earlier that day, but now? She wasn’t so sure that was the case.

As the quiet ticking of her heart started to pound in her ears, she froze in place as she came to a realization.

Even though they argued sometimes, she still cared about Enoch. 

“Oh...” 

A lot.

“Oh, no.” She whispered to herself.

[pencilpat]

*materializes into existence*

Hey there :D

I heard ya wanted asks about your personal headcanons for the Sides? I'm curious about your thoughts on Remus & Roman, and just them being brothers. You always have the coolest takes and fanarts with them!

So, yus: ✨the twins✨

And also Virgil's and Remus' relationship with each other if ya want :3

Anyway, have fun :D

Hello my favourite breakfast food mutual! /j

I have so much to say about the twins and their relationship to each other.

To start with, I want to clarify that the two of them very clearly have a lot of issues to work out, and although I love them being brotherly, I do think a lot of their fighting might be a little... more genuine than that. They are very much pitted against each other both by their natures and by the other sides, and Remus is intentionally antagonistic to Roman a lot. It's not healthy, but they are brothers nonetheless, and like most sibling relationships they have a lot of complexities to them and their feelings on each other.

Now getting into headcanon territory!

I don't really ascribe to the common fanon of a big "splitting" event that resulted in the two of them. I also don't think there was a King as fun as that headcanon is. I think the original creativity was something more childlike, like a puppet/muppet looking fella or a stereotypical cartoon character trope - maybe something disney based. When Logan talks about them splitting like an ovum, he seems to be talking about a much slower, gradual process as Thomas had those catholic ideals of thought crimes and repentence forced into him. Religious thought like that is integrated into a child's mind in a much slower fashion than that of which would cause a sudden and massive separation.

I like to think that Remus came about the way mold or a nest parasite does. Slowly growing off of and out of the original creativity until he was his own being entirely. Strong enough to pull off of the 'host' and grow on his own. I like comparing him to a cuckoo bird baby. He didn't understand why he's so much hungrier, so much bigger, than his sibling. He didn't understand why he was so out of place and different from his foster siblings in the nest. He didn't understand why he had done something very bad, but he knew that he had. He is so hungry. So much bigger than the rest. He is so much - too much. He has done something very bad. He doesn't know what he's done. He's done something... horrible. He is something horrible.

Remus and Roman have been compared to each other and placed above or below the other their entire time of existing. That creates really difficult feelings about your sibling when you're raised like that. Remus having to always be seen as 'worse' created self esteem issues that manifest as him purposefully making himself as unlikeable as possible. He absolutely can't handle positive attention or praise, and tends to see it as not genuine or that the person is fooling themselves when he does receive it. Roman, heralded as the 'good creativity' and always put on a pedestal, is the opposite. He cannot handle negativity towards his creations or himself, and being the Ego doesn't help with that. Roman is very easily hurt by criticism because he used to always be praised for anything he made, when Thomas was a child.

Remus and Roman get in a LOT of physical fights, being imaginary has its perks such as "I can decapitate my annoying brother and he will be fine and still yelling at me." It helps them blow off some of the animosity between them, and usually they patch each other up after which also helps with that. I think they drum up entire battle scenarios in The Mindpalace with dragons and manticores and all sorts of beasts to tear each other apart, only to laugh and put each other back together.

I think that sometimes, even though most of their relationship is fighting and bickering, they really are the only one that can comfort each other. They understand each other's painful emotions and self esteem issues so well that the other sides couldn't get anywhere close to the ability they have to make each other feel better. They're brothers, no matter how much they dislike that fact, and they know each other inside and out.

This is very long so I will talk about Remus & Virgil at a later date! You can see a tiny bit of my thoughts in this post though.

[keenzinemugstudent]

Superman x black reader! You get saved by Superman and accidentally call him by his name.

Okay this isn't how you thought you'd spend your night out all you wanted to do was just spend the day at home baking cookies and binge watching your favorite TV series but no you were forced you go out on a date and now your hanging from the roof top trying not to die! Just great the only reason why you went on a date was because Y/B/N (your Best friend name) thought it'd be nice if you went out and have fun so they set you up with some dude from their job some guy named John don't get me wrong the guy wasn't an asshole but only thing he could do was just talk about himself and how perfect he was he was a total snob the only person you can think about spending a night dinner with was Clark Kent your best friend but no he has feelings for Lois freaking Lane! I mean you can understand she's pretty you can give her that but she is a reporter and he's the freaking Man of Steel like come on dude how's that even gonna work?! Okay maybe the main reason why you don't like her is because you were secretly jealous that she had Clark's attention I mean you've known him nearly your whole entire life she's known him for like a couple of weeks and boom he's all cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs for her! Ugh It must be the red hair the redheads always get all the attention. You snap out of your thoughts as you could hear the rooftop breaking apart.

"Wow looks like this is how I die, ha and I didn't even get to finish House of the Dragon!"

With that you lost your grip and was sent flying through the sky screaming your head off you had your eyes closed waiting for your death but than you'd felt someone holding you tightly.

"It's okay, your safe now ma'am." You open your eyes too see the man of steel himself holding you in his arms with a soft smile on his handsome face, hey maybe almost dying wasn't such a bad thing after all if you get to live like this hehe.

He lands on top of an apartment building he puts you down gently checking for any bruises.

"I'm glad I was able to get to you on time don't worry about the others I took care of the robbers." I let of a sigh of relief giving him a smile.

"Oh man what a relief...Thanks Clark." You stand on your tippy toes to give him a hug but you felt him tense up hmm guess he's not a hugger............wait oh shit you said 'Thanks Clark and not 'Thanks Superman' oh shit! Did you forget to mention that Clark had absolutely no idea that you knew about his powers yeah you accidentally caught him using his powers when you were to go visit him on the farm. We both just stood in silence starring at each other he was able to say something but I cut him off.

"Uh oh wow you caught me in such a perfect timing! Thanks for everything but I'm pretty sure you're busy and I mean super busy well I'll just uh be on my way thanks for everything Clark I mean Superman I mean!" You covered your face with embarrassment you were honestly just making things worst for yourself at this point.

"Y/N?"

I peek through my hands hiding my red face only to see him smiling like a big ass teeth and all smile.

"How long have you known?"

"Since I caught you lifting up your dad's old truck behind the farm.." he looked shocked.

"You've known that long and didn't say anything?!"

"How the hell was I supposed to tell you?! 'Hey Clark I saw you lifting up your dad's truck with one arm want to go fishing later?' Not a great way to start the day Clark Kent!" You say arms crossed he just lets out a laugh walking towards you grabbing you by the waist spinning you around causing you to let out a screech of alarm hands on his shoulders.

"Clark! Put me down!" He does but was still smiling arms around your waist.

"I'm sorry, 'm just happy that you know it makes it easy for me now."

"Huh? Easy for what?"

That's when he gave you a kiss on the forehead causing you to blush he pulled away looking down at you straight in the eye.

"Easy for me to tell you that I love you Y/n." He gives you a tight hug you let out a sign hiding your face in his shoulder smiling.

You'd have to definitely thank Y/B/N after this!

Meanwhile somewhere in metropolis Y/B/N was sitting down eating popcorn watching The House of Dragon until they sneezed

"Is someone talking shit?"

[q-gorgeous]

Of Time and War

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 6313

Clockwork and Pariah Dark are immortal gods from different pantheons trying to learn about humanity by posing as university students. Unfortunately, they are roommates, and neither is aware the other is also a god. Romance and shenanigans ensue.

finally posting this one ahahahahha

Clockwork stood in the middle of this human learning den. How strange that human children traveled so far to learn that they’d need a new dwelling to live in. Weren’t there places to learn closer to them? 

How fitting that he was to observe and learn about humanity in a place where humans went to learn. He’d fit right in. 

He heard that humans liked to decorate their dwellings with trivial items so he decorated his side of the room with the only thing he could think of. He didn’t like many things but he did enjoy watching the flow of time, so his walls were covered in all sorts of clocks. He had as many different kinds as he could find in this town. Humans made some truly interesting clocks. Much more creative than anything their creatives could come up with. 

He was studying a very elaborate cuckoo clock when the door to his room opened. 

In the doorway stood a muscular human child. Well, technically he was an adult now by human standards. He was very young compared to Clockwork though, who was as old as time since he was time himself.

“Hello, dwelling mate.” Clockwork stuck out his hand in the ideal human greeting. A handshake. “I look forward to learning this semester.”

The human child stared at his hand and entered the room without reciprocating this human custom. Strange. Was this something that had fallen out of style? Did humans not do this anymore?

“I too look forward to learning at this learning facility.” The boy looked at him. “What’s your name?

A name. Clockwork forgot he needed a more human sounding name.

“My name. Yes, my name.” He looked around the room for a moment before his gaze landed on the cuckoo clock he had been staring at. “Chronos Cuckoo. My name is Chronos Cuckoo.” 

“Hello, Chronos. My name is Paimon Black.” He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Clockwork. 

Was this an acceptable greeting? Did humans who didn’t know each other greet each other in this way? 

“Hello… Paimon.” Clockwork awkwardly patted Paimon on the back. “How long does this greeting go on for? I am not familiar with it where I am from.” 

Paimon suddenly pulled back. “Ah, sorry. That is the greeting that I use for my human mother.”

Ah. Yes. That definitely makes more sense. Clockwork nodded. 

Paimon looked around Clockwork’s side of the room. “You have a thing for clocks, Chronos?” He looked him up and down. “Or for time specifically?”

“Yes. I love to learn about history and predict what is to come to pass. By learning what has already happened, sometimes we see things repeat themselves.” 

“Would you be going for a…” Paimon snapped his fingers thinking of the word. “History major?”

Clockwork nodded. “What about you, Paimon? What interest calls you?” 

“I like learning about weaponry and it’s used in combat.” 

“Ah. Would you also be majoring in history?” Clockwork asked. That’s kind of what it sounded like. 

Paimon shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not quite sure. I still have to-“

“Hey, nerds!” Another human stuck his head in through their open door. “The party in the common area is starting soon. Be there or be square!”

“What do squares have to do with anything?” Paimon whispered after the boy walked away. 

“Let’s go find out.” Clockwork walked toward the door. “Are you coming?”

“I suppose. I don’t have much else to do yet.”

They both walked out and Clockwork closed their door behind them, locking. “Don’t you have things to unpack?”

“Oh.” Paimon looked away. “I didn’t come with much.”

“Don’t most humans enjoy decor and paraphernalia that broadcasts their interests?”

“I was advised that bringing in my weapons and using those as decor would be unsettling for some people.” Paimon shrugged. “So I didn’t bring anything else with me.”

“That’s true. In the current gun climate, it’s an understandable request.”

They made their way to their floor’s common area. A big group of students were huddled around a table gathering and plating food and snacks. They walked up to the first table and saw a brown dessert cut up into squares.

“Maybe these are the squares that boy was talking about.” Paimon whispered. Clockwork chuckled at him.

“Hi there!” A cheerful girl spoke right next to them.

Clockwork looked up at her. She had big glasses and her blonde hair was pulled into two pigtails. He smiled. “Hi.”

“My roommate made those brownies. They’re soo good. But just a regular kind of good, if you catch my drift.”

“Are we drifting?” Paimon looked around the floor, confused.

“Ha, you are too funny.” She grabbed a brownie and put it on her plate. “I’m gonna see if I can get an anime club up and running here. Would you guys be interested in something like that? I think I’d be hosting watch parties in the common area.”

Where better to observe human culture and behavior than in an extracurricular setting? Then he can learn why some humans love this anime thing so much. 

“I would love to.” He turned to look at Paimon. “Would you like to watch this anime with us?”

Paimon looked back up from the floor. “Sure. What kinds of anime are there?”

“You’ve never heard of anime before?” Her jaw dropped and then a smirk appeared on her face. “How would you two feel about watching some anime in my dorm after the party tonight?”

Clockwork nodded. This would give him the opportunity to learn about humanity’s biggest enigma: the human woman.

“What anime would we be starting with?” Clockwork asked.

“The longest ongoing anime. We’re gonna start with One Piece.”

“Ohh sounds fascinating.”

They milled around the party for a few hours before retiring to the girl’s room.

He stopped as he crossed the threshold to the room. “I apologize, I never got your name.”

“It’s Cindy. And my roommate's name is Libby.”

“Sup.”

Clockwork jumped and turned around to see the other girl. “Hello. My name is Chronos, and this is Paimon.”

“Hi.” Paimon gave Libby a small wave.

Cindy pulled out a small television from inside the closet. “We don’t have much room but I think we could move the dresser to the center of the room and we can all pile on my bed to watch it.”

Once they got everything set up, Clockwork became engrossed as they watched. These pirates were such explorers. They wanted to see the world and accomplish great things. 

After a couple hours, Cindy turned off the television after the last episode finished.

“Is that it?” Clockwork asked sadly.

“No, there’s wayy more than that.” Cindy said. “But I think it’s time we turn in for the night. We don’t want to be late for our first day of classes tomorrow.”

“I suppose.” Clockwork said as he stood up. 

“Will you let us know when you get your anime association set up?” Paimon smiled at Cindy. “I look forward to watching this again.”

“Yeah! I’ll probably hang flyers up to let others know it’s happening too.”

“Thank you.” Paimon waved as they exited the room. “Have a good night, ladies.”

“I’ve never been so fascinated by anything before.” Clockwork said as they walked back to their room.

“Not even with clocks?”

“Those don’t count. Clocks and time are everything to me. I just meant in terms of such trivial things. I never thought television would be so interesting.”

“You didn’t have a television back home?” Paimon asked. “I thought most families had one.”

“Oh.” Clockwork realized he probably didn’t know as much about humans as he should’ve if he wanted to blend in more. “You’re right. My… Parental units just weren’t interested in it so I didn’t think I had any reason to be either.”

“That makes sense.” Paimon unlocked the door to their room. “Well I guess we should go to bed so we can be up bright and early for class tomorrow.”

“I guess.” Clockwork sighed. “Goodnight then.” 

They climbed into bed and Clockwork laid there. He was still thinking about those pirates. 

He pulled out his cellular device. He could find a copy of it on the world wide web. He had time powers. He could just watch all of it before tomorrow. He wouldn’t even be late for class.

After only a moment's deliberation, he pulled his ear buds out and found the anime online. He’s never had something catch his attention in this way. He deserved to indulge himself in it a little. 

Time did not creep forward until Clockwork got to the latest episode. He didn’t realize this anime wasn’t complete. But now he had something to wait for much like the humans do. He would get to find out what the anticipation of waiting for a new episode felt like.

He finally started time again and let his eyes fall shut. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Clockwork was pleasantly surprised to see Cindy in his first class of the day. He walked up to her with a big smile on his face.

“I finished it.”

She smiled at him as she sat down. “Finished what?”

“The anime. One piece.”

Her jaw dropped. “You finished it? How?”

“I spent all night watching it.” He puffed his chest out.

“No, that’s still not possible. All of One Piece has a total screen time of sixteen days. There’s no way you could’ve finished it all in one night.”

Clockwork froze. He did not think of that when he was deciding if he should freeze time to watch it. “Oh. I must’ve missed something somewhere. Haha. Guess I didn’t finish it after all.”

Cindy chuckled. “That’s okay. I’m glad to see you’re excited about it. It’s cute.”

“Cute?”

Cindy looked at him. “Yeah. A lot of guys think it’s cringe to like anime. It’s cute how into it you got.”

“Why is anything cringe? If one enjoys something they should embrace it.”

Cindy looked at Libby as she walked up to them. “This guy gets it.”

Libby threw up a peace sign at him. “Slay.” 

Paimon walked into class and walked up to them once he saw them.

“Hello, friends.”

He wrapped his arms around Clockwork and he froze. He was quickly realizing that this wasn’t the most common human greeting.

“Oh, wow.” Cindy said. “You guys are a lot closer than I thought. How long have you been together?”

“Together?” Paimon asked.

“Yeah, are you guys dating?” Libby asked. 

“No!” Clockwork shook his head. “We only just met yesterday.”

“Oh.” Libby said. “You guys just look like you’ve known each other for a while.”

“That’s just how people greet each other where I am from.” Paimon spoke quickly. “I did not realize it wasn’t a customary greeting in other places.”

“Nah, it’s chill. It’s just usually reserved for people you’re closer to. I’m sure everyone could use more hugs in their day to day life though.”

“Yeah!” Cindy said. “It’s really not that weird, just unexpected.”

Paimon nodded. 

That was when their professor walked in. 

“Well, we should go sit down.” Clockwork said to Cindy. He scanned the room for empty seats and found two at the back of the class.

He waved Paimon to walk behind him and they made their way to their seats together. 

They sat down and Clockwork pulled out a notebook and scrambled for a pencil in his bag. Did he forget to pack them? He wasn’t normally forgetful.

“Here.” Paimon said. 

Clockwork looked up to see Paimon holding up a pencil to him. He stared for a couple seconds and reached out to grab it. When he touched the pencil, his hand accidentally grazed Paimon’s and it sent a shock through his system. He quickly took the pencil and faced towards the front of the classroom. 

He didn’t know what that was. Why such a simple touch made him feel that way. In his millennia he’s never had that happen to him. What was it?

“Hello, everyone. My name is Professor Haggardy. Today we will be going over-”

Clockwork shook his head. It wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t matter. He should focus on his class and what the humans thought was important.

~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later Clockwork and Paimon were once again headed to Cindy and Libby’s room. She requested that they bring their own refreshments. Libby was making more brownies and Cindy made something called ants on a log. He didn’t realize humans were still eating bugs, but he supposed that’s why he was here. To learn more about them. 

Clockwork prepared his favorite dish that he has witnessed during all his time. The ube cake roll. Paimon was bringing plates, cups, and soda pop because he apparently didn’t know how to cook.

They stopped in front of the girl’s door and Clockwork knocked. He heard shuffling on the other side and then Cindy opened the door. 

“Hey, guys!” Cindy said excitedly. “Come on in.”

She ushered them in and closed the door behind them.

“You can put the food on this folding table over here. Then get settled in because I have some cool news.”

Clockwork set down his cake roll and saw Libby’s brownies, but next to it there was a plate of celery with peanut butter and raisins placed to look like ants. He nodded to himself. This made much more sense. 

While Paimon was setting his own stuff down, Clockwork turned to walk the short distance across the room. He jumped and landed on Cindy’s bed and he watched as she set up the tv so they could watch the first episode of an anime called Death Note. It was one that she thought Paimon would like because it was basically a type of weapon. 

Paimon dropped onto the bed next to Clockwork, landing almost on top of him. His skin felt electric where it brushed Paimon’s arm. Paimon adjusted to get more comfortable, but didn’t move any further away from him. 

“So, before we start I have some good news!” Cindy said as she looked at them. Libby gave her a thumbs up from where she sat on the other end of the bed.

“We got approved to start hosting an anime club every week in the common room!”

“Wooo!” Libby cheered. Clockwork smiled. 

“That’s great.” Paimon said. 

“Yeah! I’m looking forward to getting to know more people! I used to go to clubs when I was in high school and I miss having a group extracurricular that was just for fun.”

“Will we still have our own weekly anime hangouts?” Clockwork asked.

Cindy nodded. “Of course! You guys are my friends. I like hanging out with you. But one of these days I think we should make plans to do something besides watching anime.”

Clockwork nodded thoughtfully. That would give him the opportunity to see what else humans did for fun.

“We could go clubbing.”

Cindy barked out a laugh. “Libby none of us are old enough to go clubbing. They wouldn’t let us in anywhere.”

Libby shrugged. “A girl can dream, can’t she?” 

“We could go axe throwing.” Paimon suggested. 

Cindy’s eyes widened and she shot Paimon a look. “Axe throwing? I didn’t peg you for the violent type. You seem pretty chill.” 

Paimon shrugged and the motion rocked Clockwork a little. “Gotta let off steam somehow, right?”

She laughed. “I suppose. We ready to get started?”

Clockwork nodded in tandem with Paimon and Libby. Cindy hit play on the tv and hopped onto the bed between Clockwork and Libby. 

They watched a couple hours of this host anime that Clockwork couldn’t remember the name of. By the time this last episode they watched was ending, he could feel Paimon nodding off, his head resting on Clockwork’s shoulder. Cindy chuckled to his right.

“I suppose we should wrap up for the night so he can go to sleep.” She pointed at Paimon. 

Clockwork smiled. “I suppose. I was enjoying the anime though.”

“We can always finish watching it when you two come over next.”

He nodded. “That sounds swell.”

Clockwork turned to Paimon and shook his shoulder.

“Paimon, wake up.”

Paimon groggily looked up, his face inches from Clockwork’s. He met his gaze and for a moment they were frozen there. The tension grew and Paimon looked down at Clockwork’s lips before glancing back up at his eyes. After a moment Paimon’s eyes widened and he backed away. 

“Sorry, did I fall asleep? How much did I miss?”

Clockwork’s face grew warm and he stood up. “I’m not sure. We were going to stop for the night since you seemed so tired.”

“Oh.” Paimon said, disappointed. He stood up next to Clockwork. 

“Well I hope you two had fun.” Cindy stood up and walked them to the door, waggling her eyebrows at Clockwork. The blush crept up onto his face again. What was happening to him?

“I sure did. We’ll see you two tomorrow.” 

Clockwork waved at the girls. Cindy waved back but apparently Libby had also fallen asleep at some point. She was snoring on Cindy’s bed.

Cindy closed the door behind them and Clockwork and Paimon headed down the hallway towards their own room. 

Paimon yawned and Clockwork chuckled at him. “Tired today?”

He nodded. “I think I was up too late last night studying for an exam. I’m feeling it today.”

“Well, hopefully you get a better night’s rest tonight.” Clockwork opened their door and held it open for Paimon. He walked inside past him and Clockwork closed the door behind him. 

“You’re telling me.”

They got changed and ready for bed. Just before Clockwork was about to turn the light off, Paimon wrapped his arms around his middle. A fluttering feeling erupted inside his stomach. 

Clockwork swallowed. “Is this a common goodbye as well?”

Paimon nodded against Clockwork’s cheek. “It is.” 

Clockwork lifted his arms up and wrapped them around Paimon’s shoulders. This one felt different. Normally there wasn’t so much tension in a simple greeting. Something was happening to Clockwork. He didn’t think a god such as himself could feel such a thing.

He pushed it down and after another second pulled away from Paimon. 

“Goodnight.” He turned off the light. They both got into their beds.

“Goodnight, Chronos.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was their semester break. Everyone else went back home for the holidays but Clockwork didn’t have any family to go home to. He only had the other gods in his pantheon, but they didn’t really celebrate such trivial holidays. 

The only other person who didn’t go home was Paimon. Clockwork thought it was odd. He wondered what Paimon’s home life was. He didn’t talk about it very often and when he did it was very stilted. 

Clockwork decided that while he didn’t have classes to worry about he could try out having a human job. He applied before the semester ended and he was going on day fourteen with no day off in sight until the semester started. He was tired to the bone and he didn’t understand how businesses could do this to their employees. If a god like Clockwork felt like this after two weeks, he couldn’t imagine what a regular human would feel like. 

He opened the door to his dorm room. He could barely keep his eyes open but he could see that the light was off. 

Staying quiet, Clockwork took his coat off and hung it up in their closet. He stumbled his way over to the nearest bed and collapsed onto it. He was expecting the soft give of his blanket but instead he was met with someone’s hard chest and a soft oof sound.

“...what?” Paimon breathed out. 

Clockwork’s eyes snapped open and he lifted himself up to see Paimon blearily staring up at him. 

“I’m so sorry. For waking you up. I thought this was-”

Paimon scooted over in his bed and pushed Clockwork down onto the mattress beside him. Clockwork froze and waited for Paimon to remove his hand from his side, but he never did. 

“Paimon?” Clockwork whispered.

“...m tired. Just go to sleep.” Paimon said. His breathing evened out and deepened and soon Paimon was asleep again. Clockwork still didn’t move. If he got up to go to his own bed he would wake Paimon up again. But was this really okay? Would Paimon be upset in the morning?

Clockwork looked at Paimon’s sleeping face. He didn’t seem too bothered by it when he woke up. And he was already back asleep. He must’ve been comfortable enough. 

Clockwork shifted, settling in and getting more comfortable. He closed his eyes and soon he was also asleep. 

The next morning came by and Clockwork slowly drifted awake. He was laying on his back but he could feel something on his shoulder and draped across his chest. 

He pulled his eyes open and was surprised at what he saw. 

Paimon had his shoulder resting on Clockwork’s shoulder, with his arm draped across his chest. He looked so peaceful as he slept. Clockwork couldn’t help but trace every line in his face. The way his lips turned up or the sharp slope of his nose. A warm feeling spread across his body and the fluttering sensation was back. 

He smiled as he watched Paimon and it was then that Clockwork realized what he’d been feeling. 

Love. 

Human’s were known for their love. It was what drove the majority of their lives. Clockwork never thought he’d be one to succumb to it. A not to a human, no less. 

But as Clockwork stared at Paimon’s face, lit up by the sun filtering in through their blinds, there was no denying this feeling. 

He was falling in love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clockwork stood outside Cindy’s door. He wasn’t sure if he should actually knock or not. He wasn’t sure if this is something Cindy would be willing to talk to him about. Would she turn him away?

He raised his hand up to knock and paused. Maybe he shouldn’t-

Suddenly the door opened in front of him and he saw Cindy staring at her keys. She looked up and jumped a little when she saw him. She smiled.

“Hey, Chronos. What’s up?” 

He swallowed. He supposed he should just follow through with it. 

“Hey. I wanted to ask you about some… relationship advice.”

She smirked. “Oh? Well come on in. We can’t stay too long though because I have to get to work but I have a couple minutes.” 

She stepped aside to let him into her room and she shut the door after him.

“Sooo… Paimon?”

Clockwork looked up at her sharply. “How did you know?”

She rolled her eyes at him and sat on her bed. “It’s not that hard to figure out. You guys have had really good chemistry all year, especially considering you two have only known each other that long.”

“What does chemistry have to do with Paimon?”

She laughed. “It’s just a figure of speech. It means you guys work really well together.”

“Oh.” Clockwork sat down on the bed next to her. He looked at the floor for a few moments. 

“How does falling in love work?” Clockwork asked Cindy.

The teasing expression fell from her face and she smiled softly at him. “I’m not sure that anyone knows that.”

“Does it happen to everyone?”

She shrugged. “Some people never fall in love. Some people fall in love with a lot of people. It depends on the person.”

“I never thought I’d be the type of person to fall in love.” He said. “It seemed so trivial.”

“Do you think you’re falling in love?”

He looked at her. “How would I know?”

“Well, how do you feel?”

Clockwork looked back at the floor. “I like being around him. He touches me and it feels like electricity runs through my veins. I’m always thinking about him but it also scares me. I’m not afraid of anything, but this terrifies me.”

“I think that’s how you know it’s love.” Cindy said quietly. 

“What do I do about it?”

She shook her head. “That's for you to decide. You could tell him or you could keep your friendship the way it is. I can’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t do.” She knocked her shoulder into his. “I can tease you about it, but I can’t seriously tell you what to do.”

Clockwork nodded his head. “I guess I’ll have to think about it.”

“Yeah, do that. Thinking about it is good. It’ll help you decide what you really want to do.”

Cindy slapped her hands on her knees and groaned as she stood up. “But I do have to go to work. You down for some anime again this week?”

Clockwork smiled at her as he stood up. “Always.”

They walked to the door and she pulled her key back out and opened it.

“I hope it goes well.” She said.

“Me too. Thank you for listening.” 

“You’re welcome. That’s what friends are for.” She pulled the door closed behind her and locked it. “Hey, while I’m remembering it, do you and Paimon want to come to my sister’s party she’s having at her sorority?”

“Sure. Will it be like our floor parties that we have in the common area?” Clockwork started walking with her as she headed down the hallway. 

“It’ll be much more exciting than that.” She smirked at him. “There’ll be alcohol and brownies. But they’ll be the good, good kind of brownies.”

“We’ll be there. I’ll ask Paimon about it.” 

“Bet!”

He waved at her as they split and walked down opposite directions of the next hallway. He headed back to his room and opened the door. 

Paimon was sitting with his legs splayed against the wall and his head hanging off the edge of his bed. He was throwing a ball up into the air and catching it in his hands as he stared at the ceiling. His eyes darted to look at Clockwork as he threw the ball up again but he missed it as it fell back down and it hit him in the chest. 

Clockwork chuckled. “Lost in thought?”

He sat down on the floor in front of Paimon’s face as he groaned. 

“No. I’m just thinking about my math class.” 

“I could always help you with it. I’m doing fairly well myself. I’d be glad to help.” Clockwork said. 

Paimon met Clockwork’s gaze and held it for a few beats before speaking. “Thanks. That’d be super cool.”

Clockwork chuckled and looked away. “Anyways, Cindy invited us to a party at her sister’s sorority. Says it’s supposed to be really exciting. Did you want to come with me?”

“Sure!” Paimon said. “I’d love to go to the party with you.”

Heat rose to Clockwork’s cheeks. “Cool. Did you want to start working on our math homework together? We can go over anything you don’t understand.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

Clockwork stood up and watched as Paimon crawled around and readjusted himself so he could stand up. But when he did, he tripped into Clockwork. He grabbed Paimon’s arms so he didn’t fall to the ground and they both froze. 

Paimon made eye contact with Clockwork and pulled away. “Thanks. That could’ve been bad.”

“No problem.”

They gathered their math materials and settled down on Paimon’s bed and started working on their homework. Their arms brushed against each other as they gestured to the work in their textbooks and their notebooks. They stayed like that until they finished the assignment and separated to go to bed for the night.

~~~~~~~~~

Clockwork and Paimon walked into the sorority house together. It was filled to the brim with people and the music was loud. Lights were blinking and strung all throughout the house, almost as if it was moving to the beat of the music. 

“Have you ever been to a party like this?” Clockwork leaned close to Paimon and shouted at him.

Paimon shook his head. “I wasn’t invited to much back home.” 

“Me either. I-”

“Paimon! Chronos!” Cindy called. 

She danced her way over to them, her hips swaying to the music and a bottle of alcohol in one hand and a brownie in the other. “How goes it?” She asked. 

“We are doing well.” Clockwork smiled at her. “Are you having fun so far?”

“So much fun!” Cindy cheered. “We’ve been waiting for you to get here!” 

“Is Libby here as well?” Paimon asked. 

“She sure is.”

Clockwork and Paimon jumped at the voice that was suddenly behind them. They turned to see Libby with her own brownie. She threw a peace sign up at them. 

“There’s my girl!” Cindy walked in between them to get to Libby, throwing her arms around her. “Now the party can really get started!” 

“I’m not sure we have much to add.” Clockwork said. “Neither of us have ever been to a party like this before.” 

Cindy gasped dramatically. “Never?”

“Never.” Paimon repeated back to her.

“Such a shame.” Libby said.

“It is such a shame.” Cindy threw her head back sadly. 

“What do you usually do at parties?” Clockwork asked. “We could start with that.”

Cindy gasped and smiled at them, looking between Clockwork and Paimon before her gaze settled on Clockwork. 

“Let’s play seven minutes in heaven!” Cindy said excitedly.

“What is this?” Clockwork asked.

“You’ve never played seven minutes in heaven before?” Libby asked. “Tragic.”

“We play it kind of like spin the bottle.” Cindy said. “You sit in a circle and take an empty bottle and spin it. Whoever it lands on, you both have to spend seven minutes in the closet doing anything you want.” She waggled her eyebrows at that. 

“Some people just sit and talk, some people just wait for their time to be up.” Libby bounced her shoulders up and down. “Some people even get freaky while they’re in there.”

“Let’s start!” Cindy called.

The party goers gathered around and sat in a big circle around the room. Clockwork watched Paimon sit next to Cindy across from him in the circle. 

“Paimon, why don’t you go first?”

He looked at her and shrugged. Grabbing the bottle, he twisted it and watched it as it twirled around on the floor. 

The bottle spun quickly in the center of their group. It slowed down and finally landed on Clockwork. Paimon looked up at him and met his gaze. 

“Ohhhh. Paimon and Chronos. Time for your seven minutes in heaven.” She did a little dance as she smirked at them. 

She walked them to the closet and opened it.

“And just so you guys can’t get out before your time is up, I’m putting this on the doorknob.” She held up an oddly shaped piece of white plastic. 

They looked at each other and stepped inside the closet. She smirked at them and waved.

“Have fun you two.”

Paimon was staring at the door before his gaze slid over to Clockwork. “What do we do now?”

Clockwork shrugged. “Whatever we want, I guess. We could just talk. Or go over some material from our classes.”

Paimon nodded stiffly. “We could go over our mathematics course?”

“Okay.”

Clockwork started going over the material for their Real Analysis math course. It was such simple math, he was glad to help Paimon with it. They both tested into the course but he could understand why a human such as Paimon would have a harder time understanding the concepts presented to him. 

He was going over the next concept they learned that week when Paimon shifted.

Clockwork felt Paimon’s hand slide across the floor and brush his. His heart rate spiked and he swallowed. How did these feelings overtake him so fully? Why was he so nervous? He was a god for titan’s sake. 

“This is what humans do when they like each other, right?” 

Clockwork nodded. “It is.”

Was he really going to act on these feelings? Could he do that?

Clockwork lifted his hand and scooped up Paimon’s. 

They turned to face each other, their faces inches apart when the closet door opened.

“Your seven minutes are up you two!” Cindy singsonged. 

Clockwork and Paimon jumped away from each other. Clockwork’s heart was racing. Were they really about to do that? 

Clockwork stood up and held his hand out to help Paimon stand up. Paimon reached up and took his hand. They walked out past Cindy and she was giving them eyes. Clockwork’s face flushed and he tried to ignore her look. 

“Okay, now it’s Libby’s and Buster’s turn!” 

Clockwork walked away from the group as they cheered and Paimon followed after him. Paimon grabbed his hand and Clockwork turned to face him.

“Did you want to get out of here?” Paimon asked quietly. 

Clockwork studied him for a moment before he nodded. 

The walk from the sorority was quick. They weren’t that far away from their dorm building. Once they got inside the building, they walked back to their dorm room quietly. The air felt charged between them and Clockwork wasn’t sure what was going to happen once they got there. Would it be good? Would it be bad? Would he even like it? Would they just pretend like nothing happened? 

Clockwork went to open their dorm room door and it felt like it took an eternity. He opened the door and walked inside, Paimon quickly closing it behind them. Before Clockwork could even turn the lights on, Paimon had walked up to him, grabbing one of his hands again. 

Paimon’s other hand lifted and traced over Clockwork’s cheek. He leaned into Paimon’s and and closed his eyes. Paimon rested his head in the crook of Clockwork’s shoulder and he could feel his heart rate spiking. Paimon pulled back a little, his breath warming over Clockwork’s neck. 

“Is this the beginning of what we call a human mating ritual?” Clockwork whispered. Paimon’s face was inches from his own as he lifted his head back up. Clockwork didn’t know what a human would do in this situation. He was the god of time. Not… This. But he couldn’t deny the feelings bubbling up inside him. Could he really let himself feel like this for a mere mortal?

“I believe so.” Paimon breathed out across Clockwork’s cheek. He shuddered. 

“How do we start?” He asked.

Paimon was quiet for a few moments before he whispered back.

“I don’t know.”

Clockwork’s eyes widened. “You don’t know?” He’s always heard that young men were overly curious about this sort of thing. How didn’t he know anything about human mating rituals?

“I’ve never done anything like this before.” Paimon looked down at Clockwork’s lips. 

“Me either.”

“Our floor mates would be laughing at us right now, wouldn’t they?” Paimon chuckled.

Clockwork smiled. He placed a hand on Paimon’s cheek. “Yes. They would be. How is it that they know so much more than us?”

Paimon’s smile fell off his face. “I don’t know exactly what I’m feeling. You make me feel nice. I like being around you. But it’s different than how I like being around that girl that invited us to her fun ‘anime association’. It’s bigger. More encompassing.”

Clockwork stared at him. “Bigger than us?”

Paimon chuckled again. “Yes, somehow bigger than us.” He pulled his gaze away from Clockwork’s. “It’s somehow bigger than us but you couldn’t even imagine how big I am.”

“Is that a human euphemism?”

“No!” Paimon pulled back, a flush creeping up to his ears. “What if I told you something that your small human mind couldn’t comprehend?”

Clockwork frowned. “What would another human be able to tell me that I wouldn’t be able to comprehend?”

“What if I told you that I wasn’t just another human?”

Clockwork's heart felt like it stopped. Not another human? That’d be absurd. What would the chances of that happening be?

“What do you mean, you’re not just another human?”

“I’m not a human.” Paimon said. “I was sent here by my pantheon to observe human life on earth more closely. But we started getting so close and I couldn’t help but feel… Feel like I was somehow taking advantage of you, being such a high power when you’re just a human.”

Clockwork barked out a laugh. It built up until he was belly laughing in the middle of their room. He grabbed Paimon’s wrist. 

“See, you’re human mind can’t comprehend it.”

Clockwork shook his head. “No that’s not it. I’m laughing at the absurdity of it. I was also sent here by my own pantheon to observe the humans.”

Paimon just stared at Clockwork for a few moments, processing this new information. 

“You’re not a human?”

“Not any more than you are, apparently.” 

“What’s your name?”

He smiled. “My name is Clockwork.”

Paimon’s eyes widened. 

“Is that why that first night before classes felt like it took forever? You watched that whole anime?”

Clockwork blinked at him. “My powers didn’t freeze you in time?”

“No!” Paimon threw his arms up in the air, Clockwork's hand going with his wrist. “I kept waking up thinking ‘surely it’ll be morning this time.’ And it never was! For so long!”

Clockwork barked out another hearty laugh. “I didn’t even notice anything with my earbuds in. How wild.”

“Pariah.”

“Huh?” Clockwork asked.

“My name. It’s Pariah Dark.”

“Ah, the god of war.” Clockwork let go of Pariah’s wrist and trailed his hands up his arms and around his neck. “I guess you don’t have to worry about taking advantage of me anymore.”

Pariah smiled at him. “I guess not.” 

Clockwork looked at Pariah’s lips and inched forward, pressing his own against them. They stayed like that for a few moments before he pulled away. 

“How lucky are we to have found someone that’ll stay with us forever?”

Pariah trailed his hand against Clockwork’s face.

“The luckiest of all.”

[thran-duils]

Shallow Waters (P.14)

Title: Shallow Waters (Part Fourteen)

Summary: Reader moves to a remote seaside town in the PNW and is called upon by the church to serve in the area. Little does she know the biker gang rules everything in the area, using the church as their bread and butter for business. Everyone is too afraid to do anything to stop them and she catches the eye of not only the president but other members. Can she escape before she gets too woven into their intricate web? Fic is 18+!

Pairing: Dark!Tony Stark x Fem!Reader, Dark!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader, Dark!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 1,105

Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, drugging, religious exploitation, branding, humiliation/degradation, mention of caning, aquaphilia, begging kink, anal training, barebacking, pregnancy

Author’s Note: My laptop broke soooooo I’m posting this from my phone. Idk how it looks on desktop so I’m sorry if the spacing is super weird and I don’t have a mood board and dunno if the tags work 😭

Part Thirteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“Where are Whitney and Taline?” you asked quietly.

“At home,” Tony answered curtly. “Keep back away from the smoke.” He was grilling food on the back porch.

You had not seen Whitney since she gave birth to her and Thor’s child almost a couple of weeks ago. The guys were over for Poker Night and Tony had said that the two of them plus the children would be coming as well.

“Oh,” was all you said. But when you realized it was clear he was not going to offer anything more, you prodded, “Are they not coming at all then?”

“Taline is coming soon.”

“Whitney?”

“No.”

“But why?”

Bucky sounded behind you, startling you, “Cause Whitney is being cuckoo yet again.” He caught Tony’s glare and asked, “What? It’s true!”

Tony said piqued, “She’ll be fine.”

“Eventually,” Bucky snorted. “I am just glad it’s not my ass having to deal with her moods this time.”

Bucky reached around Tony to grab a bun but Tony stopped him forcibly. “Over there. Now.”

Reluctantly, Bucky followed his lead. Tony exchanged some quick words with him, his expression stern. He caught you looking and gestured for you sharply to go before looking away again.

“Aren’t you not supposed to be standing so close to the smoke?” Sam asked as he walked up. You had instinctively taken some steps towards Tony and Bucky, wanting to hear what they were saying. Since you had become pregnant, no one smoked cigarettes near you and you were scolded to stay away from the grill.

You stepped back and gave him room to move in to flip the burgers.

Tony and Bucky came back and Tony thanked Sam for watching the food. He shot you a look as he took the spatula.

“Y/N, I told you to back up.”

Sighing annoyed that you were being bossed around and clearly excluded from what was going on with Whitney, you turned away to find your seat again - one that was comfortable for you to sit in this late in your pregnancy. Steve caught your eye and patted the one next to him out on the lawn with a smirk. You only narrowed your eyes in return and moved to yours again which was thankfully furthest away from him and directly in Tony’s line of sight.

Taline showed up with Amelia and Quinn some time later — with Peter escorting them in your car. Peter approached Tony before anyone, speaking in hushed tones, which distracted you from fully greeting Taline — the kids ran off immediately, Quinn following Amelia as she ran towards Steve.

“Hey, you okay?” Taline asked gently.

“Yeah, yeah,” you told her, tearing yourself away from staring in Tony’s direction. “How are you? How is Whitney?”

“I am good. Glad to get outside. Amelia and Quinn were driving me nuts all morning. Now Steve can watch her for a bit before their game and I can relax.”

How she trusted Steve to do that was beyond you. She was scared of him, so why would she trust their daughter and another’s child around him?

But she had by stepped one of your questions and you believed she did it on purpose.

“Well, grab some food and put your feet up for a few! And how’s Whitney?”

“She’s feeling under the weather,” Taline answered quickly. “So, Thor stayed home with her.”

Before you could prod further, Peter was at your sides and plopped into one of the free chairs.

“I brought potato salad!” he announced to you. “Dad said you’ve been craving it something fierce.”

You patted his cheek, “Thank you.”

You let the subject of Whitney go.

<><><>

“Everything seems to be in order,” Doctor Irwin said cheerfully, closing your case file. “Are you sure though that there is nothing out of the ordinary as of late?” You nodded. “Well then, only a couple more weeks until your due date! Tony has me as well as Selena on speed dial I am sure. Selena is going to take great care of you during the birth.”

“I believe you,” you told him flatly, tapping your fingers on your abdomen.

“You’re sure nothing is different?”

“Yes. I am just… nervous.”

“That is natural. It’s a big life event. Just as long as those nervous feelings don’t become overwhelming for you.”

What about this isn’t overwhelming? you thought to yourself bitterly.

“I’ll be honest if they do.”

<><><>

The rain pattered quietly on the large umbrella above the table on the back porch. September has arrived and brought rain that August had neglected. The ground sorely needed it.

Everything was sore - your back, your knees, your feet. Your due date had been two days before and you were praying the baby would come soon and relieve you.

The fresh dawn air brought comfort to you and a certain calm.

The sliding glass door opened and Tony stood there in his pajama bottoms, hair disheveled. He demanded, “Y/N, it’s freezing out here and you’re not supposed to be out here anyway. Come inside!”

“I have a blanket,” you protested, lifting it slightly off your stomach to show him.

“Now, Y/N,” he said with just as much force.

Huffing, you tore the blanket away from your lap and stood from the table with as much grace as you could.

“Watch the attitude.”

“Well, I don’t have any control over my body and therefore my emotions and I just wanted to sit out in the cool, fresh air! And maybe see a deer!” You snapped as you walked past him back into the cabin.

Tony grabbed your elbow making you come to a stop and he came round to face you.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you have me here all the time for the next few weeks and you can go outside to your hearts content. With me present. It’ll just be me. I don’t want anyone else taking care of you. Or the baby. Now, come sit down and let me make you some toast and bacon. Are you hungry?”

You waddled towards the kitchen table and admitted, “A little.”

You were almost completely sat when you felt a pang deep inside and your breath hitched. You had not had cramps for almost 9 months and they were certainly not welcome.

Except… they could not be period cramps. But you did not want to jump to conclusions.

When another one hit ten minutes later, you had to say something.

“Tony?” you said, trying to keep the waver out of your voice.

“Hmm?” He asked flipping the bacon.

“I think I’m having contractions.”

———

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21​​​​ @undecidedsworld​​​​ @holl2712​​​​ @agustdowney​​​​  @biiskuitx​​​​ @buttercupfangirl​​​​​ @namjoonwatcheshentai​​​​​ @kaylamcd2000​​​​​ @damntonystarkandhissmile​​​​​ @aditimukul​​​​​

Fic tags: @cavillsbestgal​​​​​​​​​​, @writerofmanyfandoms​​​​​​​​​​, @littleone2223​​​​​​​​ @winter-soldier-101​​​​​​​​ ​

[mixotrophics]

picked up a 1953 copy of Fleas, Flukes, and Cuckoos by (Dame) Miriam Rothschild and Theresa Clay today.

I love parasites so of course upon seeing the title, I couldn't say no. The book is focused on parasites affecting birds, of all types, internal, external, brood parasites... invertebrates and vertebrates... I do love to see so many walks of life contained in a single-topic book that isn't just a nature guide.

(You may notice the "R U" contained in the repeating motifs on the cover. This book was a book from the Readers Union, which was basically a subscription service for books)

one of the biggest draws was the plates and figures:

Fig 1: "Diagram of passerine bird illustrating the main groups of parasites with their site of infection."

I love this one, a charming crash-course on both bird anatomy and the diversity of smaller-size parasites the book covers. it covers these in a good level of detail, too.

for example, it gives comparisons of morphological differences one may observe between different modes of parasite life. The plates on the left show the mouthparts of different invertebrates which feed in different ways. The figure on the right shows the attachment organs of different intestinal worms, showing the variety of "anchors" these worms use to avoid being washed out of a host's intestines.

That's quite broad. It goes deeper. For many invertebrate species, the only way to identify one species from another is by observing the shape of its genitals under high magnification... and so they provide:

I'll make an effort to go through and snatch up more of these plates and figures, some of them are beautiful.

it is not a purely anatomical text. There is a good amount of discussion of the ecology of parasites, including multi-host life cycles (which are pretty common to see).

Here we have the life cycle of Cryptocotyle lingua, which seems to be lacking in online presence; the second host of inshore fish does make it a parasite of interest to fish farmers, which is apparent when browsing papers on Cryptocotyle flukes. if you know more about these guys, please add on!!

Of course not all parasites are invertebrates. the book has plenty on vertebrate parasites, such as skuas, and of course the beloved cuckoo mentioned in the title.

I quite like the inclusion of the skua here since kleptoparasites need some time in the spotlight. Cuckoos are amazing, they deserve a post of their own.

With old biology books, though, I tend to have reservations about the actual biology facts provided within. some fields of biology, e.g., palaeontology, are so fast moving that something that was the new trendy hypothesis is old within a few weeks. Usually I get these books for the plates, and for the history, namely, the comparison of what the authors knew and what we now know.

The then-now comparison that struck me immediately was in the first paragraph of the preface:

"An object of the New Naturalist series is ... the encouragement of unusual and original developments of [natural history's] forgotten or neglected facets. One such facet is the study of parasites, a study all too long regarded as curiosity about mere curiousness, or as excursions into backwaters. Some popular books that have been written on the subject have stressed the unusual, the mysterious, often the macabre. Few have taken the subject truly seriously."

...I do feel this thinking persists in a lot of circles. Parasites are always weird gross-out animals, or at least, the invertebrate ones are. even people who are animal-lovers or environmentally-conscious tend to be keen to take to the idea of Kill All Ticks, or whatever (this is not the same as not wanting to have ticks on your body). It sucks that this sentiment is so pervasive, but it did also feel like "The Editors" (as they signed the preface) reached across decades of separation to shake my hand and go hey, yeah, that bothers me too! Let's do something about it (write this book).

Oh, and a lot more than write this book, a whole lot more. While Theresa Clay is a subject of scrutiny for her association with a fraudulent scientist, Dame Miriam Rothschild was from a lineage of accomplished parasitologists, as well as being one herself -- one of the most established flea experts of her contemporaries, as well as a lepidopterist with an interest in mimicry. She was a great scientist, and has many other achievements: working at Bletchley Park in WWII with Alan Turing, pressuring the UK govt to accept more German Jewish refugees, personally housing some of said refugees & providing a hospital for wounded soldiers, advocating for gay rights, and funding research into understanding schizophrenia and helping folks w/ it. amazing!!

here she is with her wildflowers, grown at the very same house she housed refugees and treated the wounded. You can order packets of seeds from these wildflowers, proceeds go to research to fight cancer, septic shock, and covid-19. She was a pioneer of wildflower gardens as well, creating the "Farmer's Nightmare" seed mix. yet another gift from her. All of these amazing things amplify the need to read this book in full and more thoroughly record all interesting tidbits.

I wish I could have met her, and asked her about this book, and if there was anything she would add or update, or if there were any fun stories. she seems like a real gem of a scientist and activist.

[fallout-lou-begas]

what if it was better: scream vi

Okay so what if in Scream VI instead of those two kids nobody cares about, it was Kirby and Gale. Having binged the whole series for the first time since like 2021, if you ask me, there was NO BETTER TIME for them to turn a returning legacy character into a killer and doing it with both returning legacy characters would have been a great twist, because you would never expect both of them!

With Kirby, maybe her whole thing is like, if she can terminate the last loose ends of the last Ghostface murders, there will BE no more Ghostface murders. Or you can literally just take the cop's lie at face value, that she was never actually stable after the murders and got a little cuckoo crazy or whatever. We've got our lead still hallucinating de-aged Skeet Ulrich when she doesn't take her crazy pills so it doesn't have to be anything sophisticated. Maybe while obsessively studying the Ghostface murders, she does notice all of the missing evidence, and finds out that Bailey the cop has been building a shrine to his son with it. Fortunately for him he has been discovered by the one (1) freak in the FBI just as obsessed with Ghostface as his son is, and hell, maybe she helps him get a few missing pieces. The cop can be in on the whole thing, still, to get revenge for Sam killing his son Richie. Keep the novel twist of there being three killers, just completely scrap him having two other kids and replace them with Kirby and Gale.

Because Gale? She adds nothing, does nothing, and feels totally narratively superfluous in Scream 6 movie as-is. I thought Sidney and Gale were afterthoughts in Scream 5 too but goddamn she is barely here. Like the scene with Gale getting atacked in her apartment, it has literally no point besides putting her character on ice in case she ends up skipping a sequel like Sidney did. And her killed boyfriend doesn't even get a name!!!!!

So listen: after five sequels of "nooo gale i can't believe you sold our your friends for your career >:((((" it's like. come on. she needs a new act. Which is why I want you to consider: Gale, an aging woman in the media industry, well aware of all the bridges she's already burned, knowing her days on camera are numbered, teaming up with another survivor to manufacture one last Ghostface killing to cover, one that's so spectacular that she can literally retire off it? Can't you imagine? Maybe this is something that she wanted to do all along, deep down, an ugly and intrusive thought, but she couldn't: because of Sidney and Dewey. But they're not here anymore. They're not part of this new group. There's nothing stopping her besides her own morals, and, hey, do you think she got where she is today by having any in the first place?

[licuadora-nasir]

First meetings

Pairing: chargestep

Warnings: None

Summary: Sidestep and Charge's first meeting. Beware of highly delulu Sidestep with nerd thoughts.

Notes: Thank you @silvery-bluish for proofreading River's delusional thoughts muac muac

Read it in AO3

FUCK SHIT! 

You didn’t hear him coming. Probably because you were so focused on spotting your target that you disregarded your back, maybe because he was approaching you stealthily, but the truth of it it’s that you couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t read his mind and the first thing you recognised after he popped up in front of your shitty face was the static. 

BREATHE. 

“Hey, hey, easy. I didn’t want to startle you, sorry. You’re Sidestep, aren’t you?” The Colgate smile plastered on his tanned face doesn’t fit in this part of the city at this hour. Even though he’s tried to look scrubby, his outfit is too fancy and doesn’t look anything like your scrubby clothes. The way he stands, too tall, too proud of himself, how he looks and speaks… Is he a model? He looks like a model. 

Or a member of the Special Directive. A cuckoo? No, you’ve spoken in reflex and he didn’t notice. An agent? Unlikely, the handlers and the staff look like grim reapers and lingering nightmares, they don’t have charming smiles with honey voices and deep eyes you could get lost in. 

Who the heck is this man? Why can’t you read his mind? 

“Yes,” You reply, after a few seconds. The best course of action is to stay calm, watch your surroundings and craft an escape plan in case things go south. 

“I’ve seen some of your fights and man, you know how to move.”

“Are you a fan or something? You shouldn’t be here, this is not a safe place for civilians.” ‘How to move’? How to move like the Special Directive? Like an infiltrator? The Hispanic man before you is friendly and chill. Could he… Be a stalker? Fuck shit, please do not be a stalker. 

 “Oh… No, I mean, yes? I always keep an eye on the new, competent vigilantes,” Buttering you up, calling you competent… What does he want? It unnerves you that you can not read his mind. 

He is rambling and gesticulating with his hands when you see it: He is modded! There are emitters in his hands, and you recognize what could be a rare design of a modded system with plasma core reactors. You once read an article about the possibility of subjecting individuals to modded prototypes based on electrical power, but you don’t know the details, even though you tried to dig and research, all the info seemed to be highly classified. Based on your assumptions and some theories of your favourite scientists, he must have ports and two more pairs of emitters in his lower arms. 

You remember being fascinated with this kind of modding, only an insane individual would agree to let themselves be modded with that kind of technology, but you have no idea if the people they tested these tech on even survived. 

“You are modded.” It would be stupid to pose it as a question, better to see what he answers. He must be a corporate hero or military, then. Oh dear, you wish you could sit down and ask him all kinds of questions about his mods, but he is not to be trusted. 

“Ah, yes,” He flexes his hands, opening and closing his palms, “are you a boost?” 

“None of your business.” Too carefree with his questions. Even if he is friendly, you are not answering the questions of someone whose mind you can not read. 

“Ouch, that was rude,” With a nervous chuckle, he crouches next to you, too close for your taste. “are you hunting down Disruptor?” Again with the prodding. You have a feeling he is going to keep asking, so you choose to answer him this time. 

“If that is the name of the moron that’s been sabotaging the suburb's water supply, then yes.” A villain has been messing with the water supply in the neighbourhood you had been squatting in and you could not sit idle and watch anymore. These people had been good to you, the least you could was catching this asshole. 

“Why? Many other flashy villains have been robbing companies lately, you could make a name for yourself if you manage to catch one of those.” 

“The LDPD and The Rangers are keeping an eye on those, but since this part of the city is in the suburbs and the villain hasn’t messed up with any fancy company, the Mayor and the heroes haven’t given three fucks about him,” You sigh, frustrated. It was so unfair, no one would do anything to help ‘the bad part of the city’, and you wondered who would fix the water supply and the broken pipes. 

“Hey, that’s not —”

“Shhhh shut up. He’s here.” 

The villain was tall and bulky, you were not sure about what his powers were, but they had something to do with strength and resistance, which, considering the physical disadvantage, sucked. 

Scanning your surroundings, you turn to lady-killer here, who is looking with interest at you. Is he waiting to see what you do? Is this normal human behaviour? But he is probably a hero, isn’t he? Then why is he not suggesting anything? Is this a trap? Is there some kind of malfunctioning in his brain? No, you are probably the one who is malfunctioning. Fuck shit, you wish you had paid more attention to the infiltration lessons. 

“So…” You whisper, catching his attention, “Do you know how to fight?”

(...)

The plan you crafted was easy. The industrial area you were in was full of abandoned buildings, containers and places to hide, so the deal was cornering Disruptor to the place Mr. Colgate Smile was hiding, so he could have a clear chance to take him down. The fucker fought on instinct, striking one or two blows on you, but surprisingly, the rest of the fight went smoothly. 

The mystery hero-model man was a good partner to fight with. He listened to your plan, made some interesting suggestions regarding what he could do and took the villain down hard and fast.  

“Hey, Sidestep! Are you alright there? ¡Ay! ¡Cabrón!” He curses, struggling to pin the villain down, “Mind giving me a hand?” 

“I’m okay, are you fine?” You go to them, bending down and holding Disruptor while Don Juan cuffs him… Cuffs? Why cuffs? 

“Yeah, this was noth—”

“Fuck you and The Rangers, Marshal!” 

…What? Marshal? This man is the Marshal? 

“You’re the Marshal?” You question him in disbelief.

“I mean… Yeah?” Shrugging, he gives you a confused smile. Stupid smiley man. 

“Why didn’t you—” You argue angrily, before being interrupted. 

“You didn’t ask— Quit struggling, Disruptor!” 

“Go to hell, Charge!” Growls the fucker from where he is being held on the floor. 

“Charge? Who are you?” 

“My name’s Charge—”

“Are you trying to tell me Charge and the Marshal are the same person?”

“Man, that’s entirely on you.” He chuckles as if you are someone who is supposed to be funny. A joke. Is this a joke to him? No. 

This is bad. Bad, bad. This is the Marshal of Los fucking Diablos. How long had he been following you until he decided to approach you? 

“I’m out of here.” Fuck the Marshal. And fuck Charge too. You turn to go but the not—so—charming—anymore man doesn’t seem happy with that.

“Wait! Don’t go yet, hold up until the—” He doesn’t finish before you hit the back of Disruptor’s head, knocking him out in the process. “What the hell, Sidestep?!”

“That shouldn’t be a problem anymore.” Before he can reply, you break to run, getting out of his sight. 

No pleasantries. No greetings. No goodbyes. What a shit of a first meeting. Hopefully, it will be the first, and the last one.