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crissiebaby · 1 year

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Stepmother Knows Best, Pt. 1

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, humiliation, crossdressing, vibrator play, domination, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

Commissioned By: Anon

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*Clink!*

“Mmmmmm…that’s delicious!” said Rachel as she let the subtly sweet flavor linger on her tongue. Raising the teacup to her lips again, she took in the heavenly aroma before taking her second sip, “If I’m not mistaken, I believe I taste black tea vanilla and…coconut.”

Nodding her head with a pleased expression, Deloris was thrilled by how far Rachel had come in her tea education. “Spot on, Rachel! Today’s tea is Orchid Vanilla Tea, which is a black tea infused with coconut and vanilla,” she said, lifting her teacup to Rachel as the two toasted Rachel’s acquired prowess.

If you had asked Rachel to tell you the specifics of whatever fancy tea she’d been served only six months ago, her answer would’ve been a blank stare and a passive shrug. That all changed when the 40-year-old former dress shop owner fell in love with and married a wealthy film executive. Tossing away the grind of owning a small business for the lifetime of luxury that came with marrying a billionaire, she’d found herself as a tiny fish surrounded by the viciously endless pond that was “the upper class.”

Thankfully, Rachel was lucky enough to have been carefully guided in the ways of affluent behavior by Deloris, who was a legacy member of the Hollywood elite. Descended from a long line of filmmakers, she’d made her name as the lead make-up and hair stylist on numerous major motion pictures, bagging multiple Oscars over her illustrious career. Known as one of the friendliest people to work within the industry, it’s no surprise that she and Rachel immediately hit it off when Rachel moved into the mansion next door with her new husband, the two women bonding over their love of femininity. Having no siblings of her own, it didn’t take long for Rachel to fill that void in her life, becoming the younger sister she never had.

“More tea?” said Deloris in a mockingly regal voice, offering the fine-china teapot forward to Rachel.

Holding up her glass to the teapot’s spout, Rachel graciously accepted a second serving. “Why thank you,” she said, mirroring the refined accent that Deloris was using, causing the two women to giggle in unison.

“Ugh! Do you two have to do this every day?!”

Rachel’s joyous laughter came to an abrupt halt as the prickly stem of her rosy new life reared his ugly head. “Like seriously, don’t you have anything better to do than gawk over this same girly shit? Get a life,” said Ryan, Rachel’s “loving” new stepson.

Raised as a member of the wealthy elite from birth, Ryan had entitled and cocky as one would expect a spoiled brat who’s only gotten everything he’s ever wanted might behave. Unlike Deloris, he was far from receptive to Rachel’s arrival, viewing her as no more than just another gold-digging floozy looking for a meal ticket. Beyond the judgment he held for Rachel’s financial status, he also had a deep disdain for how overtly feminine she was with him having grown up idolizing his father’s inherent masculinity.

Sinking in her chair, the last thing Rachel wanted to do was make waves with her father’s temperamental son. “I’m sorry. We’ll be done by two, I promise,” she said, forcing a smile.

“Good. I’ve got Sara coming over then and I don’t want you two turning the whole house into a lame fest,” said Ryan, walking away feeling good after having the final word. As much as he hated the way his stepmother oozed femininity, it only made her weak in his eyes. With how much of a pushover she was, he often fantasized about her being so desperate to please him that she’d offer to suck his cock on a daily basis. While the thought was tantalizing, he lacked the cojones to ever demand something like that, only able to dream about a scenario like that.

“What a sniveling twat,” said Deloris, appalled by Ryan’s nasty behavior, “You really shouldn’t show your neck and apologize like that. He’ll never take you seriously if he thinks you’re too meek to fight back.” Placing her head in her hands, Rachel was so frustrated by the constant mockery she received from Ryan that she felt like she could cry at any second. “I just don’t know what to do anymore. Do you think I want to let him “alpha male” his way into getting everything he wants? I’ve tried everything and it’s never enough. How could the kind and caring man that I married raise such a cruel son? It’s like he has blinders when it comes to Ryan,” she said, blowing her nose into the silk hanky at her side.

“It doesn’t surprise me that Daddy’s pride and joy never got the discipline he’s had coming to him for a while now. If he was my kid, I would’ve dropped his pants and spanked him right here and now. I don’t care how old he is,” said Deloris, angrily sipping her freshly poured tea before recoiling from the steamy cup, “Mhmm, too hot.”

Sighing, Rachel let her undignified sideshow as she placed her elbows on the table and leaned her chin against the backs of her knuckles. “I’m so jealous of you. You have three lovely little daughters while I got stuck with a man’s man for a son,” she said, scrunching her face into a pout as she allowed her mind to wander, “What I wouldn’t give for Ryan to have been born a girl.”

Lightbulb!

Sitting upright, Deloris's brain was suddenly set ablaze by Rachel’s passing comment. While she’d never acted on it or even told anyone about it, Deloris had always harbored a deep, seemingly-unattainable fantasy: to take a quote-unquote “alpha male” and turn him into a prissy little girl for her own amusement. She’d stay up late fingering herself to fictional stories of men being put in their place as they fell into permanent feminization, dreaming about the prospect of putting her hair and make-up skills to good use and transforming them into a quivering sissy. With the deeply-held belief that everything happens in life for a reason, she truly believed that was the chance she’d been waiting for her whole life. “Hypothetically, if we could make Ryan into a girl…would you want to?

Stopping mid-gulp, Rachel paused as Deloris’s fateful words began to take root in her mind. For a brief moment, she pictured Ryan dressed up in one of the frilly gowns she used to labor over, the thought causing her to snicker. “Hypothetically…” she said as she and Deloris stared into each other's eyes knowingly.

“Yes…hypothetically…” said Deloris, nodding to Rachel with an ear-to-ear grin growing on her face as she raised her teacup to her lips, “Ah, still too hot.”

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“What the actual fuck?! That was a fucking headshot, you cheap fucking game!” shouted Ryan, slamming her fist on the desk in a flash of aggression. His leg began to bounce impatiently as he waited for the respawn timer to tick down.

*KNOCK KNOCK!*

Inching Ryan’s bedroom door open, Rachel gingerly poked her head in. “Um, hey, Ryan, you got a minute?” she said, powering through the anxiety that was telling her to turn and run.

“Shhhjhhjhsh!” shouted Ryan as he focused back in on his game. For the next two minutes, he played out the rest of the match without saying another word to Rachel, culminating in a glorious comeback victory by the end. Slamming his fists on the counter in victory this time, he jumped up from he said and screamed, “WOOOOO! GET FUCKING REKT, KID! DID YOU FUCKING SEE THAT SHIT?!” He looked back at Rachel and gestured to his accomplishment, too amped to hate on his stepmother for once.

“That was…quite something,” said Rachel, having no clue what on Earth just happened in his game despite watching over his shoulder for two whole minutes, “Listen, I wanted to apologize for earlier. Deloris and I have agreed to move our tea time to her house from now on so we won’t disturb you. Oh! And I’ve got some cookies cooling on the stove downstairs to make it up to you. Wanna join me for some?” In the back of her mind, she prayed that she hadn’t rambled through her rehearsed dialogue too quickly so as not to tip him off that something was up.

Mercifully for Rachel, Ryan thought nothing ill of her offering, instead letting a smug expression sink into his face as he believed this was finally trying to kiss his ass like she should’ve been doing this whole time. Exiting the cue for his next match, he got up from his desk and stretched his arms, taking his time before responding, “I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Hopefully, you’re a better baker than you are a decorator.” He smiled wickedly, watching for any sign of reaction from Rachel over his dig at the updates she had made to his father’s house.

However, Rachel remained stone-faced, biting down hard on the inside of her bottom lip to keep from flinching. She could taste the small amount of metallic blood leaking onto her tongue and washing away the delightful flavor of her tea. As annoying as the pinch of pain was, it was all worth it to keep from letting Ryan get to her again. “Excellent. They should be finished cooling so let’s head on down,” she said, leading Ryan out of his room and down the hall toward the stairs. As she reached the staircase, though, she stopped and lowered her posture before turning to look at Ryan with pleading eyes, “Actually, before we head down, would you mind doing a small favor for me? There’s this box that the movers placed on a really high shelf in my closet that I’m neither tall enough nor strong enough to get. I would be super grateful if you’d help me out.”

Cringing at the thought of entering his stepmother’s ultra-fem walk-in closet, Ryan backed away, breathing in sharply through his gritted teeth. “Err…I dunno,” he said, raising both hands as if he could physically push away the idea, “If it’s all the same, I rather not-”

“Ah, darn, I figured you wouldn’t want to. Your father wouldn’t step foot in there either. If you ask me, it’s one of the few moments he’s ever appeared unmanly to me. I’ve never understood why men make such a big deal about a bunch of fabric. Don’t worry about it, though. Just forget I said anything and let’s go have some cookies,” she said, waiting for the inevitable as she turned to head downstairs.

Before Rachel could even take her first step, Ryan grabbed her by the arm. “Well, hold on now. It’s really no big deal to me. I uh…just didn’t want your cookies to get cold. If it’s only one box, it shouldn't be a problem,” he said, taking advantage of an opportunity to outdo his dad while simultaneously impressing his stepmother with his masculinity, “Lead the way!”

Traveling through the master bedroom, Rachel and Ryan entered a room that could only be described as the peak of feminine luxury. How a space this massive could ever be considered a closet was pure nonsense. It looked more like a high-end clothing boutique than someone’s personal wardrobe. There were rows upon rows of every type of female clothing imaginable, with an entire wall dedicated to shoe storage. Despite all the glitter fabrics and shiny shoes glimmering under the studio-grade lights, it was the solid gold vanity that stood out the most; its grand design and elaborate detail work being something to truly marvel at.

“Ugh! It looks like a spoiled princess threw up in here! There’s no way you could ever wear all of this useless crap!” stated Ryan, disgusted by the feminine opulence and the flowery scent that permeated the closet.

Brushing Ryan’s rude comment aside, Rachel simply shrugged. “It may seem silly to a strong man like you but there’s something so comforting about being engulfed by femininity,” said Rachel as she pointed to a massive department store box stashed high up on a shelf stationed above a rack of fur coats, “It’s that box right over there.”

Cracking his knuckles, Ryan readied himself to step up to the plate. “I’ll get that down, no problem,” he said confidently, hopping up on his tip toes as he reached up to grab the large, white, and pink box.

However, right as Ryan was about to pull the box down, Deloris stepped out from behind the rack of coats, surprising him with the self-defense spray that she kept in her purse at all times. The spray worked quickly, its sensory-depriving inhibitors causing Ryan to crumble onto the fluffy carpet. His vision became fuzzy and his hearing began to dampen as his stepmother and her tea buddy stood over him.

“Seriously, best $40 I’ve ever spent. Get yourself some. It works so much better than pepper spray,” said Deloris, tucking the self-defense spray back into her purse.

Kneeling next to Ryan’s limp body as his eyes slowly started to shutter, Rachel pinched his cheek and offered him a warm smile. “See you when you wake up, pumpkin,” she said, her words being the last thing Ryan heard as he passed out.

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Ryan’s lip twitched, feeling a series of something light like a feather brushing against his cheeks. He contorted his face, trying to scratch the itch that just kept moving around on his face like a bug. Oh Goddess, please don’t let it be a bug. He went to wipe away whatever was ticking his face but found that he was unable to move his arms. In fact, after a brief moment of struggling, he discovered that he couldn’t move any part of his body. Even though his eyes were closed, he could tell he was sitting upright, making the lack of mobility even odder. Though, the oddest thing of all was the feeling of tight, smooth fabric hugging his torso from his chest all the way down to his hips. He didn’t know what was going on but something in his gut told him he was in danger.

“Oh, I think he’s finally.”

“Hehe, now the real fun begins.”

Instantly, Ryan recognized the voices of her stepmother and her tea party friend. All at once, a rush of memories filled back into his brain, recalling that he’d accompanied his stepmother to her walking-in closet before everything went dark. Sniffing the air, he could still smell the floral scent that wafted through the air, so he had to still be in the closet. That’s when it hit him. That crazy tea lady had sprung out of the collection of animal skins and blasted him in the face with something that made him pass out. It was no longer just his gut telling him that danger was present.

Opening his eyes, Ryan was greeted by the piercing studio lighting that made up Rachel’s closet. As his eyes adjusted, he saw a strange girl he had never met before sitting across from him wearing nothing but lingerie. From the nose down, she had perfect, ruby-red lips that shined against the flattering lights, with a plethora of foundation and contour caked on to soften her chin and jawline while accentuating her cheekbones and petite facial features. Meanwhile, her eyes were still having work done, with the peachy eyeshadow being left half-done. “I’m sorry, do I…” he muttered, raising an eyebrow in confusion as the girl across from him moved her mouth at the time he did. As he did so, the girl raised her eyebrow as well, mimicking him once again. After a few more seconds of staring, it finally clicked, “W-What the FuCK IS GOING ON?!”

Looking down at his body, Ryan began frantically pulling against his restraints as he gazed upon the same lingerie that he had seen in his reflection. Pathetically, he snuck another glance at himself, slightly amazed but also horrified by how much like a girl Deloris had managed to make him look. “Untie me right fucking now! You think my dad will stand for this?! Your ass is going back out on the street where he found your money-grubbing ass,” he said, thrusting his height upward and causing the chair to bounce in place.

“Oh, you think so?” said Deloris, crossing in front of Ryan and stepping over his legs to straddle them. She made sure to tease him a little, wiggling her butt on his pointed lap as she settled into place on his thighs, “Because what do you think he’s more likely to believe? That your new mother and I overpowered you and forced you to dress up like this, or that his sissy son snuck into Mommy’s closet for some private dress-up time? If you ask me, one of these seems far more plausible than the other.”

Left in stunned silence at how bold Deloris was acting, Ryan’s eyes darted to Rachel’s reflection, hoping that his stepmother would reign in her far more domineering friend. Sadly, she did nothing more than flash him the same sadistic smile that Deloris was sporting. Realizing he’d never be able to intimidate them into letting him go, he lowered his head and began sniffling, “P-Please let me go. I promise I w-won’t say anything,” he said, hoping to appeal to a woman’s kind heart.

Sadly, there was no kindness to be found. “Oh, don’t worry, we fully intend on letting you go…so long as you play nice with us girls, that is,” said Rachel, showcasing a much more confident attitude now that she didn’t have to bend over backward to please her misogynistic stepson as she let her arms drape over Ryan’s shoulders. She slowly ran her finger softly along his chin, relishing in the sheer feeling of his freshly-shaven face, “If you sit still and let us finish our makeover, we promise to get you back into your old clothes before your old man gets home from work. However, if you keep being lippy with me and your Aunt Deloris, then we’ll have no choice but to leave you like this for your father. Do we have an understanding?”

As much as Ryan wanted to tell Rachel and Deloris to go fuck themselves, he knew there was little choice so long as he didn’t want to tarnish the manly image his father had of him. Shakily nodding his head, he stuttered out a small, “yes,” sealing his feminized fate.

Given the green light from Ryan, Deloris resumed her work as she added a heavy dusting of eye shadow. Not that she needed a green light, per se. It was more of a courtesy than anything. “See, it’s not so bad, right? Plus, it really brings out the blue in your eyes. All the boys are going to be hypnotized by your beauty,” she said purely for her own satisfaction.

Groaning from behind his pouty expression, Ryan had less than zero interest when it came to attracting guys. As much as he hated to admit it though, Deloris was right. Each time he caught sight of himself in the mirror, a tiny flutter filled his heart, one not too dissimilar from the feeling he got when looking into Sara’s dreamy eyes.

As Deloris put the cap back on the peach eye shadow, Ryan hoped that this would mean an end to his make-up session. Sadly, the eye shadow was only the beginning. Next, came eyeliner and mascara, both of which put quite a strain on his eyes as he struggled to keep his eyes from watering. Not that it would have mattered since Rachel was quick to comment, “Tears of joy over finally seeing the real you? Go ahead and let it out all you want to. Your make-up is waterproof for a reason.”

Following the eye torture that came from the pitch-black products, Ryan was introduced to perhaps the most unique form of agony that he’d ever been subjected to. “Now, hold very still. I don’t want to prick you,” said Deloris as she brought a pair of tweezers close to Ryan’s eyebrows. He wanted to protest but it only took a single time of him flinching and being stabbed by the sharp point of the tweezers to keep him still. Every hair that was pulled from the pair of fuzzy wigglers over his eyes was akin to going through Chinese water torture. By the time his first eyebrow was finished, he didn’t even care how feminine he looked. He just wanted Deloris to finish as fast as possible.

Plucking the last tiny hair from the far side of his left eye, Deloris stepped back to get a full look at his face, a malicious smirk growing on her face. “Goddess, I am good. I don’t even think his father would recognize him now,” she said, prompting Rachel to join her in admiring the rebirth of her new stepdaughter.

“Heck, I don’t even recognize him and I watched you do it!” shouted Rachel as both girls fell into a fit of giggles.

As the ladies laughed, Ryan could only grimace at his reflection, not wanting to see what had become of him but also unable to look away. As Deloris moved back in and began spritzing a setting spray on his face, he could actively feel the grip he had on his masculinity slipping. To make matters worse, the silky fabric and constant humiliation in combination with seeing his new form completed caused an unfortunate chain reaction in his loins. Feeling the tingling sensations creeping throughout his shaft, he bit down on his tongue hard, hoping to quell his heightened arousal.

Tragically, Ryan’s efforts were all for naught as Rachel got sight of the tiny point sticking out of his satin and lace panties. She quickly rushed over to Deloris, who was halfway through her finishing touches on Ryan’s make-up, and whispered into her ear.

The two girls began laughing once again, causing Ryan’s heart rate to elevate and, in turn, his hard-on to pulse slightly faster. “What devious scheme were these two planning now?” he thought, far from excited to find out the answer.

Stepping out of Ryan’s direct line of sight, Rachel reached into her pocket and pulled out a small remote. From the second she and Deloris had gotten Ryan fitted into lingerie, she’d been chomping at the bit to reveal the big surprise to her stepson. And now that he was properly stiffened, it was the perfect opportunity to further shove him down the path of permanent sissification.

While Ryan assumed he was just wearing regular-degular lingerie, the truth was far more sinister thanks to the Valentine’s Day present that his father had bought for Rachel only a handful of months prior. Wrapped delicately around Ryan’s waist and prodding pecker was a pair of remote-controlled vibrating panties with five glorious settings to bring any good girl to her knees. With her thumb on the remote, she made sure to watch every inch of Ryan’s body for a reaction as she clicked the vibrator on.

*bzzzzzzzzzzzz*

An instant shiver was sent up Ryan’s spine before spreading across his body in a series of chills. His eyes went wide and his lip started to quiver as the low rumble of his vibrating panties worked to egg on his cock’s growing need for attention. And the attention he did get as Rachel stormed back up to him and cupped her hand tightly around his dick and balls, increasing the sensations felt from the panty’s internal vibrator. “Your dad was so nice to buy me these but they're not really my style,” she said, wiggling her fingers on the underside of Ryan’s testicles as her palm brushed against the head of his penis, “Do you think your father ever would allow me to put these on him? Of course, not. But you don’t need to worry about that anymore since you’ll never be the man he is.”

It was all too much. The ceaseless vibrations of the panties. The aggressive tightness of his restraints. The sheer sensuality of his silky lingerie. The cruel taunting from Rachel. The overwhelming feeling of femininity ensnared his heart and soul. All of this added up to send his pleasure receptors well past the point of no return. Rachel had only been gripping Ryan’s privates for thirty seconds, but that was all it took for his cock to start spurting out semen. He uttered a squealing moan as his body convulsed, raptured by the most shameful and glorious orgasm of his life.

Pulling her hand away, Rachel grabbed a make-up wipe and cleaned off the droplets of spunk that clung to her fingers. “I don’t think there’s any way you could argue now. You are officially as sissy as sissy can be,” she said, tossing the used wipe aside and returning to Ryan’s side to stroke his shoulder-length hair, “You sure we don’t want to give him a girlier hairstyle? I agree that the mid-length is good but we could give him bangs or something.”

Shaking her head without looking away from Ryan’s face, Deloris responded, “Seldom few people can pull off bangs properly. Besides, if we cut his hair any shorter, they’ll be less to play with.” The two girls chuckled once again, imagining the variety of precious hairstyles they could give him once the make-up game ended and the dress-up game began.

*DING DONG! BING BONG!*

Suddenly, Rachel, Deloris, and Ryan all froze as a fancy doorbell sounded off, alerting the trio to the presence of a visitor. “It’s not his father. He would’ve just come in,” said Rachel, who wasn’t aware anyone else would be stopping by today.

Ryan, however, was well aware of who was downstairs. A droplet of sweat ran down his neck as he realized this situation was about to go from bad to worse now that his childhood friend, Sara, had arrived for their two o’clock hangout.

TO BE CONTINUED…

PART 2 PART 3

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Edited by AllySmolShork

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fashionablyenigmatic · 10 months

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Cadmus Christmas Carol Pt.2

"So, you are the ghost of Christmas past, right?"

"Yule past."

"SAME THING." Cadmus barked, still a little miffed about the ghost's appearance by his bedside, looking like a child who came into their parents' room to report they'd thrown up. "Look, I'm sorry, but I'm in no need for whatever this is going to be. So, if you wouldn't mind leaving me alone and finding an actual evil billionaire to mess with, that would be awesome. I heard Elon Musk recently kicked a puppy, so if you would please go-"

"I'm not going anywhere, and for someone who can read minds, you are quite oblivious. Do I not look familiar at all to you?" The ghost of Yule past said, glaring at Cadmus with bright green eyes.

"Yeah, a little. You look like Shirley Temple. I don't know who told you curls were in, but they-."

"I'M YOU, IDIOT!" The ghost interrupted, now agitated.

"I...Uh...oh, forces..." Cadmus sat down on the side of his bed. "I completely forgot how stupid I used to look... Thank God Dad never made me learn tap dancing like he did with Bennie. I would have never lived it down," he added, giving the ghost a look of disdain.

"Is this how you should treat your four-year-old self? Tying them to a lamp and mocking them?" The ghost asked, holding up the magical bonds, still waiting to be freed.

"Well, yeah, as a matter of fact, I do," Cadmus replied, tipping his wand in a downward motion and releasing the binding spell.

Cadmus found himself in a familiar place, and the first thing that hit him was the smell of hot, greasy food under heat lamps. He opened his eyes and realized he was in an Uncle Jeffy's. What surprised him even more was his attire—he was still in his black silk pajamas but now sported a nightcap instead of his usual horns. "What the-" He waved a hand over his head and tried to pull off the cap, only to yelp in pain. "OW! Where are my horns?"

"Oh, those were ugly, so I turned them into a cap," the ghost stated simply.

Cadmus went to reach for his wand, but it, too, was gone. "Where's my wand now!?"

The ghost smiled mischievously. "Ohh, that old thing? You must have left it behind in your opulent cave. Oops! Now, pay attention. Where are we?"

Cadmus glared at the ghost. "Uncle Jeffy's Buffet. A cheap place, but they had good food. Stan used to take me here a lot when I was young, usually when I had a bad day," he explained with a hint of nostalgia.

He immediately looked over to the booth at the far end of the restaurant. It was nearly evening, and the parking lot outside had a fading blue hue. Stan had often chosen this corner booth because it allowed him to keep an eye on anyone entering, and it was an added bonus that the self-serve coffee machine was close by. But what caught Little Cadmus's attention was a particular tree just outside the window behind Stan. It was gnarled and strange-looking.

"Here they come," came the voice of the younger Cadmus as he saw two fat vultures swoop down from the high power lines to land among the gnarled branches, scattering the smaller birds that called the tree home. The four-year-old let out a high-pitched laugh, breaking Stan from his thousand-yard stare. Stan turned to look at Cadmus and gave a small smile before turning his head to see the vultures. "They must like you," he said gruffly.

"Yeah!! They come here every time I'm here!" Little Cad giggled in response, to which Stan nodded. Stan was wearing his Chief of Police uniform, which looked a bit wrinkled and had some small blood stains. It was evident that the day had been rough on him, and this observation wasn't missed by the small child.

"Did you have a bad day, Stan?" Little Cad asked with genuine concern.

"Well, my line of work is tough, Cadmus, but there's nothing I can't handle," Stan replied, though it was clear that he was downplaying the challenges he faced. The four-year-old understood this and wisely chose not to push further.

"My day was rough too," the boy commented, steering the conversation toward the reason Stan had brought Cadmus to Uncle Jeffy's in the first place. "My friend Marcus lied to me a lot today. He kept saying one thing but thinking another." Cadmus poked at his mac 'n' cheese thoughtfully. "I know Dad told me to try and block out the thoughts of others, but it's hard. I need to know! And I know the teachers don't like me because they are scared of me. Anyway, that's why I was crying when you picked me up from preschool," the boy explained, his pout conveying his frustration.

Stan listened attentively, his expression filled with understanding as Little Cad continued sharing his concerns.

Stan understood where Cadmus was coming from, given his own ability to detect lies. He took a moment to digest his thoughts before offering some sage advice. "Sometimes you gotta let someone lie, though, kid. You can't always call them out. But never doubt your gut, and don't let them pull the wool over your eyes," Stan said simply. "I think you'll figure out soon when a lie is meant to be harmful, like with Marcus, for instance. When he lied to you, what was he lying about?" he asked.

This was when little Cadmus brightened a little. "I said I wanted to play Legos, and he said he did too, but he really wanted to play Nintendo," he replied.

Stan smiled a little. "Well, he may have been thinking he wanted to play Nintendo, but I think more so that he wanted to hang out with you. Otherwise, why play Legos at all?"

Little Cadmus smiled and took another bite of his mac 'n' cheese, seemingly satisfied with Stan's response. The two of them enjoyed their meal together, the past echoing with moments of warmth and understanding.

#Cadmus Dolore #Stan Norman

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thewingedwolf · 2 years

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was bitching with how sometimes british people will be like “racism is an american thing classism is a british thing” and how that’s a dumb take bc both of those things exist in both places. initially tried to draw a comparison to people pointing out the new british pm is british asian and how there were an embarrassing amount of british people going “well you don’t understand, we don’t have racism the way you do, you see Class status affects us way more” as if we don’t have the “stop putting your faith in these politicians laying thick on idpol bc ultimately the identity the rich choose is being rich over anything else!” conversations across all of twitter like every other week. sunak being a shitty lil “center right” politician doesn’t stop him from being the first british asian pm, and also doesn’t mean the phenomenon of “poc uses their other privileges to screw over their constituents or do shady shit for money reasons” and “poc holds vile views” don’t exist in the us, please Look at politics And pop culture even a little. imo the same way americans like to think that they’re “pre billionaires” and class oppression doesn’t exist here or that it doesn’t affect people here (there’s a reason for that tho) it seems a lot of brits are convinced they are post-racist but still struggle with classism. none of that is true tho!!! it’s funny & bizarre to run into it tho.

BUT I tried to use examples of like “poc who were First To Do A Thing” in the states who sucked or were controversial or whatever the fuck, and i SHOULD have gone for someone more cartoonishly bad but i mentioned like neera tandrem & powell, bc they felt like semi recent examples of big, several social media site spanning discussions on how race privilege & class privilege intersect so my very liberal friend was like “well i didn’t hate powell he did some good things”

🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️ i am Not touching that even a little aksksj my general opinion on twitter politics is that i only disagree with people i don’t like, if i like a person, i try hard to phrase things as positively as i can bc 240 characters is just not enough to really explain your thoughts without sounding like an asshole, but sometimes i forget that centrist dems are Usually cool with “centrist Republicans” & also criticism of powell and neera isn’t like, a thing people love to do rn in Center Spaces aksjsj. i have learned to keep my pelosi smack talk to my friend group chat aksjsj too many dems are very “well she’s a lady with an iron will” yeah yeah that’s why my grandpa has a crush on her, but what is she actually Doing as a politician when she’s not throwing papers at DT.

anyway serves me right for tweeting while high when i was supposed to be eating while high than applying to more jobs smh @ myself

#tried to turn it around she seemed convinced askjsj #i was trying to think of people similar to the british guy. like ‘not as outwardly dumb shit as bj and truss but certainly still a wreck’#and landed on tanden & powell for some reason. romney & murkowski work but we were talking about poc specifically #gabbard maybe? not high enough in power. also she’s gone full conspiracy nut which i saw a million miles away #i’m thinking one that pisses off moderate dems so it can’t be mayor pete or harris.

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trustke · 2 years

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Scummvm vita

#Scummvm vita full

#Scummvm vita code

If you are using Windows, macOS or the Ubuntu Snap package, the autoupdater will assist you in updating to ScummVM 2.6.0.Īs always, thank you for your continuous support - happy adventuring! Jun 5, 2022: You can find all of this goodness available for a number of platforms on our downloads page.

#Scummvm vita full

It almost looks and feels like a virtual shelf!Ĭheck out the full Release Notes for a comprehensive summary of how our developers managed to make ScummVM even more amazing! Accompanied by some very shiny artwork provided by our graphics artists, you are now able to show off your collection like never before. One of the main new features of ScummVM 2.6.0 is a completely new way to view your games in an amazing icon grid overview via our launcher. It is always impressive to see bugs getting fixed in engines that are more than 20 years old! Once again, we managed to squash quite a few bugs from various engines.

Marvel Comics Spider-Man: The Sinister Sixīesides adding new games, we are always focused on improving already supported games.

Are you able to escape from an alien-infested planet? What about challenging the Lord of the Dead in the Underworld? And have you ever explored the deepest depth of your psyche to see if you really know yourself? Nine newly supported games on 6 engines will plunge you into a variety of different settings. amazing.įree your mind for yet another ScummVM release! As always, please submit your bug reports to our issue tracker. To play the game with ScummVM, you will need a daily development build. Please contact us if you have a demo or any other release. We couldn't find a demo but there is a trailer. ScummVM currently supports the English release of the game (which is the only one we know about) and features more responsive controls than the original. Keep the body count rising to survive five territories by playing as each Soldier Boy (and Girl),īut beware and don’t waste a “friendly” since they provide vital survival information! He recruits six prison inmates serving life sentences for a chance at a full presidential pardon. Then, it’s up to Major Howard Toliver, ex-Marine and highly decorated Vietnam veteran, to gather a deadly team for the dangerous mission of rescuing her. The game starts when the daughter of an American billionaire is kidnapped by a group of Vietnamese terrorists. Released in 1997 by Hypnotix and published by DreamCatcher Interactive and MCPA Interactive, this full-motion rail shooter is based on the 1995 film of the same name. Soldier Boyz is the newest supported game of the Hypno engine, and it’s ready for public testing!

#Scummvm vita code

You may support the project by expressing your excitement in the form of a donation via PayPal although we value code contributions considerably more. Our forum and Discord Server, are open for comments and suggestions. Among the systems on which you can play those games are Windows, Linux, macOS, iOS, Android, PS Vita, Switch, Dreamcast, AmigaOS, Atari/FreeMiNT, RISC OS, Haiku, PSP, PS3, Maemo, GCW Zero and many more. ScummVM is continually improving, so check back often. You can find a full list with details on which games are supported and how well on the compatibility page. Next to ground-breaking titles like the Monkey Island series, Broken Sword, Myst, Blade Runner and countless other games you will find some really obscure adventures and truly hidden gems to explore. It supports many classics published by legendary studios like LucasArts, Sierra On-Line, Revolution Software, Cyan, Inc. ScummVM supports a huge library of adventures with over 325 games in total. The clever part about this: ScummVM just replaces the executables shipped with the games, allowing you to play them on systems for which they were never designed! ScummVM is a complete rewrite of these games' executables and is not an emulator. ScummVM is a program which allows you to run certain classic graphical adventure and role-playing games, provided you already have their data files.

#Scummvm vita

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terrence-silver · 3 years

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Heyyy I was wondering of you could write more dad!Terry please? I was thinking about maybe the reader being the only girl out of Terry's kids? But anything you could come up with is gonna be amazing, love your writing! <3

Prom is an important event and he goes all out.

Even in ways it absolutely wasn't necessary in --- but he insists.

Terry always insists on such things; on the Silvers being the very best they can be.

That much is made abundantly clear, he claims, when a specially commissioned dress arrives straight from Paris, in a plush, immaculate box, down to all the specifications, measurements she wanted. Or rather, he wanted that she wants --- making sure no expense is spared, that the material is only the very best, only the heaviest, most immaculately trimmed of gowns worthy of a princess. She tried to fidget out of the commitment, ever like her mother, content with any beautiful dress at all, but 'just anything' wouldn't do for Terry Silver's only daughter --- out of several sons. His sweet baby cobra. His darling. His heart. No, no. Private chauffeurs hired, her corsage bejeweled, genuine gemstones and pearls in a bouquet of flowers, Terry carefully fastens a diamond necklace around her neck. Belonged to his own mother once. Her grandmother. Passed down throughout the generations, from one lady of the Silver branch, to another. Now it was her turn. -"And remember,"- Terry points his nose discreetly at her vetted date, standing to the side, suited up, also to his specifications, doubling as a bodyguard. Someone to look after her. Ensuring nobody pesters her, bothers her or does as much to step on her shadow without being shown out. -"he's here to look after you. Take good care of you?"- Terry supposed he wouldn't allow her to go with just anybody. Anybody with any old intentions, so meticulously curating, doing background checks and ensuring the eligibility of her chaperone was key. And she liked him anyway, which was a plus. She personally picked him out from a curated catalogue of teen heartthrobs and teenage models, like one picks out a pedigreed puppy one chooses for their birthday. How proud that made Terry. This thing would be good entertainment for his daughter. A good show parade pony. A toy.

She was the daughter of a Billionaire.

One of the richest, if not the richest men in the world.

He'd be absolutely stupid to simply not be smart about this.

She understood that much too. Terry's raised her to understand.

Raised her to understand people weren't always good, with good intentions.

Right as of this moment, the jewels on her neck alone were worth more then some people's entire livelihoods. Some ants had to work ten lifetimes to earn the cost of her attire alone. She was a treasure. Both in the literal and the figurative sense. His treasure. The marrow of his spine and the flesh of his flesh. Snakes of the same den. His silver and his gold. Off to prom. How fast they grow?

-"I know, dad and thank you. Everything's a dream."- She scoots up with a warm smile and kisses his cheeks, propping herself up on her tip toes as Terry leans down to make the task easier for her, giving her a gentle hug. Everything's a dream, huh? Terry wanted everything to be a dream for her. Her own personal fairytale. The venue was already arranged to play the music she'd like. Serve the food she'd like. The desserts she'd like. Arrange the seating as she liked. Put the teachers and professors in order, as she'd like. Those other children would simply have to live with it, as so would the adults and the catering managerial staff, Terry supposed. Because this was her big night and they were merely lucky enough to be a part of it, the same way her makeshift token chaperone (possibly the most aesthetically handsomest youth one could acquire to invoke jealousy in her stead from everyone else) for the occasion was lucky enough to be allowed to be her lapdog for the evening. Lucky enough to escort the Queen of The Valley to her debutante ball, Terry thought. They drive away in the sleek, silver Porsche the keys of which he handed over to them for the occasion and before they're even away from the mansion's front gate, Terry's already phoning prom venue security and his intel men on the downlow --- warning, practically feeling himself seethe. -"If anyone messes with her, make sure to follow them outside and break their fingers for me. Just as agreed, right? Yeah, don't worry about the authorities. I've taken care of that too. They'll look the other way, as usually."-

#terry silver #terry as a parent #yandere #daughter!reader #cobra kai #kk3 #this does give me old man terry vibes though

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starkerforlife6969 · 3 years

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Starker - Morgan’s best friend Peter

I’ve seen these incredible posts going around by @fearlesstarker : so I just had to write a little something. Fluff ahead, kids.

Morgan tries to take a moment to really think about it.

She sits back and straightens her spine; the way she does in class when she’s about to prove that everyone in the room- including her professor- is a moron. She cocks her head, examines Peter Parker opposite her, and thinks about it. Truly thinks about it.

“Yes,” she concludes after a moment, all the data filing away neatly, everything coming up a match.

Peter looks up at her, eyes rimmed-red with tears, hair a brown, scraggly mess atop his head. “What do you mean?” He sniffles, still in his pyjamas, still smelling like cologne too expensive to be his.

“You and my dad.” She says, nodding, “Yes.” She gets up and heads to the kitchen. She has a studio-apartment, of course. Her dad would settle for nothing less.

Peter follows at her heels: radiating anxiety. “Morgan, I-”

“It’s fine, Peter. Do you want some tea?” Never espresso’s for Peter, he has enough energy as it is. She pulls down two white ceramic mugs.

“Morgan.” He says again, voice firmer this time. Deeper. She still remembers hearing it break when they were both thirteen, curled up together in a tent on the school’s camping trip.

They’d been shit at building their tent. It had collapsed in the middle of the night and they’d lain there, under stars, sharing secrets. His voice had cracked for the very first time, and she was the first person to know, and she’d held his hand and-

“Morgan.”

The mugs are shaking in her hands.

“Morgan, look at me.”

His hands then, on her shoulders, turning her round, and she’s being hugged by her best friend. By her brother. By Peter B Parker.

He’s taller than her- but only in the physical sense, and she buries her face in his chest and tears come and he holds her so tight- like he doesn’t remember how strong he is. Like he thinks he’s still that scrawny thirteen year old who needed Morgan to protect him from bullies. But he isn’t. Not really.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers into her hair, then thinks better of it. He pulls away and looks into her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Morgan. I’m sorry I slept with your dad. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to. I’m sorry for keeping this a secret. I’m so, so sorry.”

She wants to tell him it’s okay, but she’s crying too hard.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” He vows, his voice breaking, “it was a one-time thing. I won’t- I won’t pursue it. Not if you’re not okay with it. I’m sure- I- I know your dad feels the same way.”

“It’s just so…”

“I know.” Peter cuts her off, pained, “I know how it looks. But I promise- it isn’t like that. We connected last summer, remember? When he helped me fix up my car? And-and it was like we were seeing each other for the first time. He’s a good man, your dad, I swear, Morgs, and-and-please, please don’t hate me-”

“God, Peter.” She laughs, watery and honest, “I’m not upset because of any of that! “ She smacks his shoulder. “How can you know me so well and be so blind? I’m scared I’ll lose you. You’re mine, Peter Parker, d’you hear me?”

His face breaks into the most glorious smile, and she knows she loves him the way she loved him when they were thirteen. When she understood family was so much more than blood. “All yours.” He promises. “That will never change.”

She believes him. She sighs, and wipes her cheeks, and nods, pulling herself together. “Well alright then,” she breathes, “but don’t think for one second I’m calling you dad.”

His laughter sounds like music.

***

Evidently, she’s not the only one who thinks so.

Because a month later, she’s sitting at the dining table, and her dad’s setting down something that looks dangerously like home-made spaghetti, and there are candles on the table, and it’s subtle- but she can see it.

Her dad’s sweating.

“Looks good.” She says, even though it doesn’t, trying to calm him down.

Tony gives her a knowing look. She grins at him.

“Don’t sass me, baby Stark. I spent all day on this and in spite of DUM-E’s best efforts, there weren’t even any fires.”

“Not any?” She arches her eyebrow.

Tony winces.

Peter...laughs.

Morgan watches how her dad lights up at the sound. How he brandishes his serving spoon at Peter warningly, and their eyes meet, and there’s a moment- something soft- and raw- just like the meatballs.

“I’ll get us take-out,” Morgan says gently, and she’s worried for a second, that they don’t hear her. That this is how it’ll be from now on- she used to be both of their number ones, and now she’s both of their number two’s.

She orders from the Chinese place across the road- the one that knows them, and the three of them sit in front of the TV and settle in for a movie.

Peter dishes out, and he serves Morgan first. All the spring-rolls and the crispiest noodles.

Something small- bright and lovely- burns within her as she takes her plate.

And when, during the film, she and Peter begin to doze off- it’s her who gets the blanket first. Draped lovingly over her by her dad. It’s her head he kisses before he tends to Peter and she knows- she hasn’t lost anything.

She has only gained.

The Press-

Don’t care. It’s weird. Morgan keeps waiting for the backlash. In fact, all of Tony’s team seem to be waiting, but it never comes. It seems that most people expect handsome billionaires to have boyfriends half their age.

“Huh,” Peter says, in a new, custom-made suit that compliments his skin-tone, “I guess that means you’re old news, Tony Stark,” and he kisses the edge of Tony’s mouth. Morgan pretends not to watch.

Her dad turns to Peter, grinning, mischievous, young in a way he hasn’t seemed in a while. “Don’t worry. I can do something about that.”

Proposing to Peter on the red carpet for GLAMOUR’s man of the year award does spark the headlines.

“Really, dad?” Morgan laughs, phone nestled into the crook of her neck because she can’t find her airpods.

“What can I say? I have a flair for the dramatic.”

“More like a flair for the idiotic.” Comes another voice, a little muffled, and Morgan smiles.

“Is that Peter? Tell him I say hi.”

“Morgan says hi.”

“Oh! Say hey back.”

“Peter says hey.”

“Is he coming up for the LA workshop?”

“Are you coming up for the- hey, you know what, you talk to each other.”

“So grouchy in the morning.” Peter teases, and there’s the sound of kissing, and Morgan faux-retches.

When she thought about it, way at the start, she did the pros and the cons. Their obvious compatibility, mutual interests, and potential were some of the heaviest pros.

There were cons, too.

When she makes the drive up, through snow and sleet, back to Stark Tower. Back into New York. In the middle of her academic year even though her dad told her it was fine (and she knew it wasn’t fine) she sees him sitting in his lab, buried deep in work.

“Dad.” She says quietly, ruffling his hair.

“Sweetheart,” he says gruffly, voice rough from dis-use. “I told you, you didn’t have to come. Tell me you didn’t drive in this weather. I would have had Happy-”

“Dad.” She says again, because she’s learnt from watching Peter how to deal with people who are just a little too clever and a little too impatient. Who does he think she gets it from?

She rests her head on his shoulder and Tony sets down his instruments, but Morgan’s already seen the way his hands were shaking.

“You guys will be okay.” She promises, because she’s a genius but also because there are some things you just know for sure. Without a doubt.

She finds Peter at a bar outside of Cal-Tech.

He’s nursing an orange juice, but he smells like whiskey.

He cringes when he sees her. “Morgan, I know this must be so awkward-”

“A whiskey neat.” She tells the bar-tender, who squints at her like he’s trying to figure out her age, before recognizing her and stumbling in his haste to obey. “Nothing to be awkward about.” She says. “I’m not on anyone’s side. I love you both. Let’s just drink and maybe do some karaoke.”

Peter peers at her, as if trying to gauge her sincerity, and he slides back onto the barstool. “Okay,” he says eventually, “but only if it’s High School Musical. And only if I get to be Troy.”

“You can be Ryan.”

“If you’re Chad.”

They grin at each other.

Everything’s going to be okay.

Morgan’s the one in a white dress at the wedding and that feels...right, somehow. Weird. But right.

Her dad’s in some designer ocean-blue suit. It looks effortless on him. Peter’s in a deep burgundy, a bordeaux, and he cups Tony’s jaw in his hand and whispers something that makes Tony’s entire body ease. Tensionless. Free from burden.

Morgan hasn’t seen that very often.

There’s crying (theirs, Morgan will insist to the tabloids, and not hers at all) and there are doves, and the beach, and food, and dancing and golden rings on fingers.

A little after midnight, she’s about to head back to the hotel when she sees them. Two lone figures under the stars.

“How was that?” Tony whispers, arm around Peter’s waist, voice soft as waves.

“Pretty good for a first wedding.” Peter teases, kissing the underside of Tony’s jaw. “It was perfect, Tony. But everything’s perfect with you.”

“I’m not perfect,” he whispers.

“No.” Peter agrees, smiling, and he wraps his arms around Tony’s neck. “We are imperfectly perfect together. I love you.”

Tony kisses him like he can’t help himself, before he pulls back and traces Peter’s eyelashes. “I love you.”

Then, both of them, together: “We love you too, Morgan.”

She gasps, and darts back into the shadows- all fruitless, of course. They’ve seen her. They will always see her.

But then the taxi comes and she sees her own face in the rear-view mirror.

She’s smiling. Just as hard as they are.

#fluff #starker #Peter and Morgan are best friends #Morgan stark #Tony stark #Peter parker #college student peter #college student morgan #marriage

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marvels-writings · 4 years

Text

Piece of Your Heart

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

Requested by Anon: Hi would you mind terribly writing a established R/Nat fic where R was fighting Thanos with Tony and Nat thinks she got dusted because obviously Nat has heard nothing from her but really she’s been on that ship with Tony the whole time? I love your writing and I’d love reading something like that it’d make me so emotional 💖

Word Count: 2.2k (longish and an amazing mix of angst and fluff)

A/N: Damn I loved writing this, and I wrote it to a particular song so it ended up revolving around dancing more than I thought it would. It’s really good though and I hope you like it as much as I do!!

Dull white light shone down; music blanketed the room, feet shuffled across the marble floor. Reflections played in the mirrors, all showing the same image. The image of a woman with bright red hair, dancing alone, trying to fill the piece of her heart she lost.

Natasha moved elegantly across the floor, twirling and twisting where she saw necessary. She made a perfect pirouette across the floor. Shifting her weight across the pointe shoes, the redhead moved to the other side of the room with ease. Another perfect pirouette as she waited for something she knew wouldn't happen.

Strange, pirouettes are always perfect. There's never the chance for it to be flawed, for there to be a mistake. Stumbling wasn't an option for her, falling a pleasure denied. Yet, her feet faltered, losing her balance as she caught herself on the metal bar.

Staring at herself in the mirror, she saw the redness of her eyes matching her hair, the dark circles underneath her eyes. Her face, devoid of any emotion except for loss. Ignoring everything she could, she moved back to the center of the room, dancing once again.

It wasn't right without you. The room was a little too big, the music a little too quiet, Natasha's heart too empty. You'd always joked that you held a piece of her heart and she a part of yours. Never did she think the joke might be more real.

She faltered again, losing her balance without you to catch her. Sighing, she picked herself back up, trying to be the perfect pirouette they trained her to be. Her feet always fell to the side, refusing to keep balance. Reaching down, she slipped off the pointe shoes before trying again.

The cold floor served as a mild shock as she continued. She let go of being perfect; she was letting herself be flawed again, letting herself feel her loss. Her hips swayed in a broken rhythm, shuffling imperfectly across the floor. It wasn't how they trained her.

It wasn't perfect, not near it. It was how Natasha danced with you, throwing herself away to feel you.

Her skin remembered the way your hands rested on her waist, your fingers tapping a steady beat on her ribs. Her feet recalled the way you danced without rhythm, letting the music take control instead. She remembered how you hummed the tune of the song, the notes vibrating through you. She remembered the sweet nothings you whispered to her, words she'd die to hear again.

Wanting desperately to feel your presence, even the ghost of your touch, she reached out her arms, pretending they were around her as she swayed from side to side. Her eyes fluttered shut, seeing you rather than the darkness of her eyelids.

The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, the lines on your face as you lit up in a bright grin. The way the light always hit your face in just the right way, making you look like an angel. Maybe you were an angel, one that she couldn't be sure was truly gone.

Natasha had almost begged you not to go after Tony. She should've known she could never convince you out of saving someone. If only you were here to save her now. She didn't know if you were dusted, gone like the rest of her family, or just lost in space, waiting to be whole again.

For now, part of her was whole again. She could almost feel your breath across her neck as you rested your head on her shoulder. You felt so near to her, even if it was just for a blissful few seconds. Natasha let her eyes remain shut, dancing by herself, clinging onto to ghost of you.

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

Soft music played from your earbuds, enveloping you in a dream of their own rather than your nightmarish reality. The beat reminded you of dancing slowly with someone you loved. You leaned back in one of the seats, letting your eyes flutter shut as you absorbed yourself into another daydream.

Everything about her came back to you when you closed your eyes. It was almost a nightmare to keep them open, to keep yourself occupied in an awful place without her. The ship was so devoid of color, filled with dull blue and purple hues rather than the bright red you craved oh so desperately.

Curling into yourself, you pulled the jacket around your shoulders tighter, trying to keep any warmth you could. It was colder when you were daydreaming rather than working. Maybe remembering what you might have lost can take away from what you have.

Now, you didn't have much. A crashing ship with a billionaire from Earth and one of the daughters of Thanos. At least everything would be over tomorrow. No more crushing daydreams of the past, no more hopeful dreams of Natasha being with you.

You heard Tony record another message for Pepper in a different part of the ship. Pulling out your earbuds with a sigh, you decided to do the same. Looking around to make sure the words you only intended for her, you took out a piece of your suit.

Never had you meant for it to function in this way. Never did you think it would record a dying message. With a sigh and a heavy heart, you propped it in front of you and set it to scan you. It was going to take a hologram, to record not only your words but also your movements.

Taking another minute, you pulled your hair back into a ponytail, trying to look better for her. Leaning back in the chair, you let out another sigh as it beeped. Now that you were about to record your words, you didn't know what to say.

Should you tell her you're sorry? It would be a lie to say that; you wanted to help your family, you don't regret that. You regret leaving her alone, but not leaving. Biting your lip, you started speaking in a vain hope that the right words would come to you.

"Hey Tasha," You began, breathing in and looking away from the hologram. "If and hopefully when you find this recording, please don't show it to anyone else."

Chuckling, you turned towards the recorder again. Now, you didn't know what to say to Natasha. You tried to imagine that she was here, sitting in front of you, waiting. Instead of her apprehension, all you could see was her beauty. It all made you only miss her more.

"I miss you. So damn much Tasha." You continued, running a hand through your ponytail. "I always dreamt of going to space, but now that I'm here."

"It's so lonely without you here."

The void of space stared back at you when you turned away. It taunted you, keeping you away from whom you wanted most. Letting you stare into the emptiness of it instead of the fullness of your dreams. Tearing your eyes away; you turned back to the recorder.

"I thought that if I left, we could have that happy ending when I come back." You continued, trying desperately to put into words what you felt. "But now, I don't know if we're ever going to have that ending."

Your eyes fluttered shut, letting you into a surreal daydream; the house you'd imagined buying lined the inside of your eyelids. Natasha joined you on the large patio set, her arms around your waist as you looked outside. Maybe you had children. They would be running around the front yard, calling out to you while your wife whispered sweet nothings.

It all faded into silence as you took another step into reality. The silence surrounded you, taking away any hope, any dreams you might have ever had. Taking the last step into this dreaded nightmare, you fell back into this reality.

"Tony and Nebula are here with me," you croaked, trying to change the topic. Bringing yourself back, you took another deep breath as your dreams faded back into the void you'd been staring. You began talking about them instead; everything they were trying to do, letting it distract you for a treasured few moments.

It helped, just for a bit. A minute passed while you talked about them, stopping with a loud sigh. You bit your lip, clawing through your memories for something, anything else to talk about. All you saw was her.

"I wish I could dance with you," You whispered, biting your lip tightly. The familiar sting of tears came to your eyes at the memory. You shook your head, clearing yourself of it, adamant not to cry. Leaning forward, you tapped on the recorder.

"If and when this is all over," You whispered, offering a timid smile. The memory came back to you again, this time you didn't stop it. You paused, letting all of your emotions wash over you.

The timid, lovesick smile as your hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer to you. Her warm breath fanning across your face as you leaned your foreheads together. The tingle of her eyelashes fluttering against yours. Her whispers of love and adoration as you swayed slowly, dancing.

"I'll always be dreaming of dancing with you."

The recording stopped, your fingers pressing the small red button. Pulling away from it, you leaned back in the chair again, tugging your jacket tighter around you. The cold seeped back into you, leaking into your bones, making you shiver.

Sighing, you curled further into yourself, forcing yourself to sleep. Maybe if you weren't awake, it would be over faster. It wasn't, you kept clearing your mind of your dreams just to fall asleep. Eventually, you were, oblivious to the world around you.

That was until a rumbling brought you back.

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

The same rumbling sounded where Natasha was dancing. Her motions stopped at the sound, looking outside the window hopefully. Nothing was there, just the same pitch-black she had grown accustomed to. A glow emanated from above it, casting everything in a light golden tint.

Her feet pounded the floor as she rushed out the door, towards the glow. The sound was accompanied by feet following her, rushing as much as she was. Steve and Pepper rushed behind her. All for the small sliver of hope that someone else survived the snap and made it home.

It's strange how hope is always associated with light. It's as if Natasha had wandered in the dark, stumbling her way through till hope showed her the way out. You can never truly find anything in the darkness without the slightest shred of hope, of light.

The light was what she ran towards, staring up at the glowing ship as it touched down on the grass outside the compound. Her heart thudded in her chest, watching as the ship's doors opened. Three sets of feet appeared, walking and stumbling down the steps.

Tony leaned against a blue woman, staggering slowly down the steps. His bones are shown through his tank top, cuts on his face bleeding. His eyes were dull, glancing around the compound, lighting up only when they stumbled across Pepper.

Steve ran up to him, helping him off and talking to him. But all she could see was you, stumbling out of the ship by yourself.

Your hand clung desperately to the railing, not wanting help but needing it anyway. The t-shirt you wore was a few sizes too big, your skin had lost some of its tone, your hair messy and in a ponytail. It was still you, you who had promised her a happy ending.

Natasha ran up to you, breathing erratic, heartbeat pounding in her ears as she wrapped her arms around you. Her breath hit your neck, followed by hot tears on your shirt. Your arms wrapped around her tightly, your face tucked into the crook of her neck, breathing her in.

The redhead shook in fear, scared she was going to let go of you again, scared you were going to disappear. She was terrified you were going to leave her dancing alone in the dark again, without even the dream of you to keep her warm.

But there you were, your skin warm to the touch as her fingers sneaked up your shirt. Your skin against her palms, warm as you moved with every breath. You were there, the light she needed to see.

You clung onto her as tightly, using all your strength to keep her close. Everything about her was so warm, so full that you were sure you could never feel empty again. Your hands stroked the length of her back, providing whatever reassurance you could muster.

Natasha held you close, pulling her head away to look at you. Your face was gaunt, your eyes hollow, but full of so much love and longing, for her. Your hand slipped from her shoulders, resting above her collarbone as you wiped the tears off of her face.

Smiling to yourself, you swayed from side to side, dancing with her. Natasha pulled away slowly, looking at you in curiosity as you rested her forehead against hers. Her hands around your waist kept you up, moving slowly on the grass. The exhaustion would take over you soon, but she wanted to keep this moment a little longer.

Heaven couldn't hold a candle to this, to how whole you felt around each other. It was truly as if a piece of your heart resided with each other. It would tear you apart to be away from each other. But for now, maybe even forever, you could dance.

A/N: Tell me what you think!! Reblogs and comments are amazing!!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero , @a-stressedstudent , @aaron-despair , @rooskaya-yelena , @dynnealberto , @thewitchandtheassassin , @wannabe-fic-reader , @izalesbean, @higherfurther-romanova , @natalia-quinzel , @blackxwidowsxwife let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

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wheezyandchesterwrite · 3 years

Text

"Please don't leave me" ~ Peter Parker

Summary: When you are injured in battle Peter begs you to stay

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Speedster!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence, death, injuries, and blood. Just overall sad. (If we missed something that you feel should be tagged and/or mentioned let us now and we'll include it)

A/N: Hey, so as you can see we are not dead! :) (I don't know why I did that it hurt me too ok?) Since there was no post in March we are going to try our best to post two other one shots this month, but we'll see how that goes. Hope you all enjoy this and have a great morning/afternoon/night! -W&C :)

Also major thanks to @apotatoinabigfield and @too-attached-to-fiction for proofreading and beta-reading this!

*GIF IS NOT OURS* (We got it off of Google, but if anyone knows who the credits for it belong to let us know so we can rightfully tag them)

5 years ago:

“Something’s happening,” said the girl with the antennae, Mantis. At least, that’s what she had said her name was. Suddenly after, she turned to dust. She just disappeared. In shock, you got closer to Peter, looking for some kind of safety or comfort. Everyone was shocked; no one could understand what had just occurred before your very eyes. Before anyone could say something or even gather their thoughts, it happened again.

“Quill?” was the last thing Drax said before suffering the same fate as Mantis. We lost. That was the only explanation you could fathom. The Avengers had lost and Thanos won. You tightened your grip around Peter, fully embracing him now. You were all desperately trying to decipher who would be next, fearing it being yourselves or your loved ones, but it was pointless. Whatever was causing this came and left without a warning.

“Steady, Quill,” said Tony, but it was to no avail.

“Oh, man,” sighed the man who had introduced himself as Starlord, dusting away defeatedly. You looked up at Peter, who had wrapped his arms around you in a protective manner. He was scared, that much you could tell, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes, determined to conceal the unsettling fear of not being able to hold you for much longer. You tried to convince yourself it was done—that no one else would be taken—but it was pointless. Deep down, you knew this was far from over.

“Tony,” the man turned to look at Strange, “there was no other way.” Stephen Strange took a couple more breaths before dusting away like the others had. Although Strange had said he saw over sixty-three billion outcomes, you couldn’t see how this could be the one you won in. It definitely didn’t feel like it.

Suddenly, breathing became hard. You saw dust particles floating from your hand and the reality of what was going to happen hit you. “No,” you whispered anguishly.

“(Y/N)?” Peter brought your attention to him instead of the particles which declared your fate.

“Pete, I—” you started as you reached up to stroke his cheek, but before you could come in contact with his skin or finish your declaration, you faded away in his arms.

“I know,” the boy said softly as he watched the wind carry what was once his lover.

Tony was at loss for words. He felt like the universe was playing a sick, twisted prank on him. As Tony sulked, Peter felt it. He felt his spidey sense warn him that something was going to happen. He could feel his body struggle to keep him in one piece, to keep him together, to keep him alive. No matter how quickly his body fought, it was destined to lose. “Mr. Stark,” the boy called out to the man who was more than his mentor, the man who had become like a father to him.. “I don’t feel so good,” he painfully admitted. Peter started stumbling around, his legs struggling to keep him up.

“You’re alright,” defied Stark. More than an attempt to console the boy, Tony Stark was trying to reassure himself that the universe, as cruel as it had always been to him, wouldn't do this—that it would not take his boy away. But alas, the genius man was to be proven wrong.

“I— I don’t know what’s happening. I— I don’t understand,” countered the Spiderboy hurriedly. His feet gave out, and he would’ve fallen forward if it hadn’t been for Tony catching him and holding him up. More and more particles could be seen emerging from the boy, and in that moment, the only thing Tony could do was hold on to Peter for as long as he had left.

“I don’t wanna go,” Peter pleaded. “I don’t wanna go, Mr. Stark, please.” His voice was cracking and his legs couldn’t support him any longer as more particles escaped him. Peter’s pleas wouldn’t cease much like the cracks in his voice every time he spoke. Tony lowered him to the ground not daring to say a word. Peter, with teary, bloodshot eyes, looked at the man and whispered an apology before finally letting his body dissipate.

Tony couldn’t speak; he couldn’t even think. “He did it,” said Nebula. Yet the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist didn’t respond. He just looked at his hand, which was covered in dirt—dirt that had once been Peter Parker. Tony let himself cry, allowing grief and shock to take over him. After all there was nothing else he could do.

***

Present day:

“Love you—wait, what happened?” You find yourself reaching up, but the person you had been trying to touch no longer stood in front of you. Your body was slowly regaining feeling, but your mind felt as numb as ever. You had so many thoughts running through your brain at such a speed that you couldn’t focus on any of them.

“I love you too, Speedy.” You heard a voice answer from behind you. You felt some of the anxiety subside once you put a name to the voice, which was easy since only one person in the entire world called you Speedy.

“Peter,” you exhaled in relief. Turning around in an instant, you ran into the arms you had chosen to call home. Peter embraced you tightly, not wanting to release the other in fear of permanently losing one another this time. You didn’t know how much time had passed from when you lost your consciousness, but that didn’t matter for Peter. Seeing the person he had deemed to be his soulmate dissipate in front him had been more than enough for him to feel like the amount of time that had passed between then and now had been an eternity. Suddenly, Strange spoke up, answering the question plaguing everyone’s minds.

“It’s been five years. Come on, they need us.” He stated commandingly. You all shared looks of dumbfoundment and bewilderment. Five years? How could that have been possible? The only one on the planet you stood on who looked at ease was Stephen, his calm demeanor never faltering. You looked up at Peter confused, but he simply shrugged, not wanting to believe such time had passed yet knowing better than to contradict Dr. Strange.

“Okay, everyone, this is it. Activate your badass stances!” exclaimed Quill.

“What did you say about my ass, Quill?” Drax started charging towards him, visibly offended. You raced to wedge yourself between the two men, struggling to keep them apart.

“Hey, no time for that. Look!” You called over their attention to the portal Strange was opening in front of you. Peter swung his way to the front, landing elegantly. After making sure Quill and Drax would not try to go at each other's throats, you swiftly made your way to the front and stood beside Peter.

Glancing around what was going to serve as your battlefield for today, you grimly recognized the location. What was once known as the Avenger’s Headquarters was now no more than a field of scattered debris. Clouds of dust littered the air, the remains of mass destruction visible wherever you looked. You gave yourself a chase to take in the sight of Thanos’ army, and as you did so, fear and worry tried to etch their way into your brain as you realized what you were facing. This was an enemy that had already defeated you once, and when you had fought him, he hadn't even had an army backing him up. Your determination and will to fight and live to tell the tale overpowered those negative feelings. The sight of the spaceship filled you with spitefulness instead of dread, and you knew in that moment that you would do whatever it took to win. The Avengers would not lose again; you were going to make sure of that, even if you had to lay down your life for it to become a reality.

“Is that everyone?” Strange asked Wong.

“What, you wanted more?” Wong yelled back in disbelief, and Strange shrugged nonchalantly in response.

As everyone settled into position, Cap’s voice was loudly heard, like thunder rumbling through the field, “AVENGERS.” This was the moment of truth—your last chance to save humanity. You could feel the seconds pass before Steve gave the signal, “Assemble.” And with that, everyone was off.

A beautiful and empowering mess of battle cries could be heard around you. You, on the other hand, were silent as you ran, calculating your every move. Using all the knowledge you’d gained over the years about hand-in-hand combat, you started to hastily assassinate those monsters. You would jump at one, taking them down, and godspeed to your next target, sending each one you came in contact with on a one way trip to meet their maker. Near you, Peter was also taking out some of the Chitauri, at times propelling you onto your next target or eliminating some of them when you got surrounded. After clearing out most of the aliens near you, Peter tapped you on the shoulder and pointed to Tony. Understanding his intentions, you nodded and made your way towards the infamous Iron Man.

As you slid into the crater where Tony lay, Peter landed from his swinging. Tony stared at the two of you in disbelief, doubting whether or not to believe you were actually there. When his expression softened, and tender affection spread across his factions, Peter began rambling, and you shook off some of the concrete dust from your suit. “Hey, holy cow! You will not believe what’s going on,” Peter exclaimed as he helped Tony stand up.

“No?” Tony asked sarcastically, but it only encouraged you.

“Do you remember when we were in space? And we got all dusty? I guess we must’ve passed out because when we woke up, you were gone.” You now stood beside Peter as you spoke, your hands increasing their pace as you rambled on, making them impossible to follow with the human eye.

“But Doctor Strange was there right? He was like ‘It’s been five years. Come on they need us,’” Peter said as he tried to make an impression of Strange, mimicking the way the man had moved his hands when opening the portals.

“Yeah, and then he started doing the yellow sparkly thing he does all the time.” You took over from Pete when he gave you the chance.

“He did? Oh, God!” Tony exclaimed with feigned incredulity. He started walking toward you and grabbed you both by the shoulder, pushing you into him.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked, bewildered.

“Huh, what’s this?” You questioned, confused as Tony engulfed you both simultaneously. He held you tightly, and when the shock passed, you and Peter hugged the man back even tighter.

“Oh, this is nice.” Peter sighed, earning a light chuckle from Stark.

“Listen, kids, we don’t have a lot of time right now, but I’ll catch you up on the latest trends once we take this bitch down. Okay?” Tony assured as he released you, holding on to your forearm to look the both of you in the eyes as he spoke.

“Yes, sir.” Peter saluted.

“See you on the other side of the war.” You smirked, knowing Tony and Peter must have caught that reference. Tony shook his head as he took off, the ghost of a grin barely noticeable on his lips.

Peter nudged you. “Be careful, okay?” His eyes showed genuine concern.

“Alright, I solemnly swear—” Peter gave you a warning look. “Okay, fine. I’ll try my best to be as careful as possible in the middle of a battle.” You finished, your tone a weird mixture between sarcasm and affection.

“Good.” He pressed a quick kiss to your temple before taking off.

“Alright, Chitauri, give me your best shot.” You smirked at the unsuspecting figure that was currently fighting off T’challa. Having speed and regeneration to your advantage, you zig-zagged around Thanos’ army, ducking and killing as you went. You moved with precision, only stopping when you were sure to have a clear shot at the enemy you were targeting.

You went on that way until you weren’t able to dodge a body that dropped in front of you, making you trip over it. The collision made you roll down a mountain of debris, hitting your head dangerously hard several times, as well as getting a couple of cuts along the way from the exposed, sharp metal.

“That’s sure to give me a concussion,” you grunted to yourself. The throbbing of your head distracted you from the burn of the cuts that now littered your abdomen, some deeper than others. It wasn’t until you brought a hand to your head, that you noticed the crimson liquid that coated it. “Oh, shit,” you exhaled. The pain was starting to catch up to you as the adrenaline subsided. You tried to use your powers to find yourself a safe spot until you recovered, but your attempts were futile seeing as the pain coursing through your body rendered you immobile.

“Is that Peter falling?” The figure you saw was indeed Peter and the sharp spiderlegs of his suits were still out for blood. You managed to move just enough that you were barely graced, another gash prompting blood out of your system. Peter tumbled in the opposite direction, clutching what you assumed to be the gauntlet you were supposed to keep out of Thanos’ hands. The sudden movements to dodge Peter hadn’t come without consequences. You felt like your surroundings were spiralling around you, dizziness overtaking you as you started to cough up blood. You managed to stubbornly sit up and when you looked to your side, you saw Peter giving the gauntlet to a glowing woman.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna get it through all that,” you heard him admit to her out of breath.

“Don’t worry,” Wanda stepped in.

“She’s got help,” Okoye finished, her hands wrapped tightly around her spear. Soon the rest of the women joined and took off together. It was a powerful moment to witness and one you would’ve loved to be a part of, if it weren’t for your current situation. You closed your eyes in a somewhat successful effort to ease off the pain pulsating in your head.

“Man, those are some badass women,” Peter muttered as he sat down. “Wait—” He quickly looked around, but missed you completely. “Where’s my badass woman?” Peter frantically shuffled to his feet, hoping to see a flash of yellow zoom by, but no such luck. You tried to call out to him, wanting to let him know you were there, but your voice got caught in your throat, replaced by a cough that was followed by blood. The sound caught Peter’s attention, his gaze trying to find where it came from. His heart constricted in his chest when he finally caught sight of you and the state you were in.

In a flash, he was hovering over you, putting your own abilities to shame given the speed at which he got to you. Your eyes were still closed, as you relished the relief it gave you, but you were drifting off at this point and didn’t have the energy nor strength to open them again. That was until Peter started shaking you awake. “(Y/N)? Oh God, come on, please be okay.” You could hear the panic and desperation in his voice. Your eyes felt so heavy, it was almost impossible to open them, but you managed to do so, just enough to see Peter exhale in relief after seeing you respond.

Tucked away behind blood and dryness, you managed to find your voice and you raspily told him, “I’m okay, Peter. It’ll heal. Go help the others.” You took ragged breaths between each sentence, your lungs struggling to keep up. Peter could very much tell you weren’t okay and knew that with the amount of injuries you had suffered it was almost impossible for your regenerative abilities to save you.

“(Y/N), we both know that’s not happening; it’s too much. I mean, it might heal, but there are too many things to heal for you to survive waiting and—” He abruptly stopped his own rambling after he noticed you had closed your eyes again. “(Y/N)? (Y/N), please, stay with me.”

His voice was breaking and his eyes were starting to swell up with tears. It broke your heart to hear him like this. You fought to stay conscious, for his sake, but the blood loss and pain was becoming too great to bear and you felt yourself falling into a deep slumber once more.

Peter was getting desperate, tears freely flowing down his cheeks now. “Please, (Y/N/N), please don’t leave me.” He held your body close to his, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Sobs rocked his body as he kept begging for you to stay. His voice and your tear stained neck was the last thing you registered before you let go and fell into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

***

“Everybody wants a happy ending, right? But it doesn’t always roll that way. Maybe this time, I’m hoping if you play this back, it’s in celebration. I hope families are reunited, I hope we get it back, and something like a normal version of the planet has been restored. If there was ever such a thing. God, what a world! Universe, now. If you told me ten years ago that we weren’t alone, let alone, you know, to this extent, I mean I wouldn’t have been surprised. But come on, you know? The epic forces of darkness and light that have come into play. And for better or for worse, that’s the reality Morgan’s gonna have to find a way to grow up in. So, I thought I’d probably better record a little greeting... In case of an untimely death on my part. I mean, not that death at any time isn’t untimely. This time travel thing that we’re gonna try and pull off tomorrow, it’s—it's got me scratching my head about the survivability of it all—that’s the thing. Then again, that’s the hero gig. Part of the journey is the end. What am I even trippin’ for? Everything’s gonna work out exactly the way it’s supposed to. I love you 3,000.”

Pepper walked out of the cabin she and Tony had called home, holding a wreath that in its middle held Tony’s first arc reactor. Everyone stood out in front of the lake, waiting as she gently placed it on the water. She took her place beside Peter, who was silently crying as he held your emotionally devastated self in his arms. Having passed out when you did had ultimately saved your life, your body using its remaining energy in healing you rather than keeping you awake, but that meant you missed the events that led up to your victory and were therefore unable to say a proper farewell to the man who served as your mentor for years.

Waking up to the news that the man who had taken better care of you and had looked out for you more than your own parents was dead didn’t settle in easily. It took a while before you were able to accept he was gone.

Peter had been there for you every step of the way, holding you during all the sleepless nights you had spent crying and shaking you awake when your dreams became plagued with nightmares from the battle. Guilt had made a home in your heart, the feeling never leaving as you thought of ways you could have avoided getting injured, ways you could have fought better, ways that could have resulted in being able to say goodbye to Tony Stark, the man who sacrificed himself for the universe.

Everyone stood silently as you all watched the wreath float out of sight, before turning to share your condolences with each other. You held on to Peter tightly, as if he too were to slip from your fingers at any moment. You stood there mindlessly listening in on the nostalgic conversations between the people who cared for Tony. Looking around at everyone gathered, it became clear that the arc reactor which was now floating off in the lake was not the only proof that Tony Stark had a heart. All his friends, colleagues, family and adopted students were walking proof that not only did Tony Stark have a heart, but that he had the biggest heart a human could possibly have.

Taglist: @steveisherdaddy @apotatoinabigfield @xlostinobsessionsx @izjustafaze @yourlocalwhitemanwhore

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supercorpkid · 3 years

Text

A normal day in the Luthor-Danvers house.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 1780.

“So then, I took my glasses off, and I swear it was not intentional, but my heat vision went off and I-I blew it right off of Lena’s hand. Man, she was pissed.” You smile and Jamie tries to hold a laughter and it comes out like a squeaky noise.

“Damn. Not a dull moment in the Karlena house.” She recovers herself and smiles to the ground while you consider what she just said.

“Karlena?” You furrow your brows, confused.

“Karlena, duh. Kara plus Lena.” She explains like you didn’t understand in the first place. That wasn’t the problem, you understood.

“What? Jamie, that’s terrible. We all know SuperCorp is like, a lot better.” You wave her off. “Besides, we do have dull moments. It’s not everyday we’re fighting aliens, destroying things or inventing things. Some days we just… Exist.”

“Oh, please. You three wouldn’t know what it’s like to just ‘exist’ if it hit you in the face.” Jamie crosses her legs and arms like she is trying to impose her thought. Sure, most of the times the things that happen with your family are not something people can relate to, but it’s not like you’re aliens… Wait. Nevermind.

“Excuse me.” You try to sound offended. “I admit we’ve been through a lot.”

“Mhm.” She strongly agrees with her head.

“But we’re still pretty much normal most of the time.”

“I think it’s cute you’re trying to convince me that, like I don’t know everything about you and your moms.” She gives a pretentious smile. “But if it will make you feel any better… Why don’t you tell me about the next ‘normal’ day you guys have?”

“Ok, mhm, sure.” You agree with your head taking this as a challenge. And you’re not one to back out from a challenge. “Next time we have a normal day, I’ll tell you all about it, and you’ll see we’re just another normal family.” As soon as your finish with the sentence, you see Maya coming at your direction and both of you just change the subject immediately.

“Hey cuties.” She says with a smile, and you push your bag to the side so you can make room for her on your lunch table. “You cool?”

You give her a nod, and a quick kiss, before looking at Jamie and thinking about the conversation. She wants normal? You will show her normal.

It is very annoying to you that it takes a whole week before you can declare one day as a normal one. And this is a normal day around your house, you know, one filled with dull moments:

“Kid, time to get up.” Kara knocks on your door serving, as always, as your wake-up call. You roll to the side, not getting up, wanting five more minutes.

And as always, five minutes later:

“Come on, babygirl. School. Let’s go.” Lena opens the door and you finally open your eyes.

“Nooo.” You complain, making Lena give you a soft smile in return.

“Yes, come on. It’s like this every day.” She doesn’t leave until you’re up on your feet despite all of your protests. “We’re leaving in 15.”

You do your entire shower-get dressed-brush teeth routine using your super speed, so you’re downstairs in less than five minutes.

“Hey, babyface.” Kara holds your face, when you’re passing through her, and she kisses your temple. “Had a good night?”

“Eh. It was decent.” You untangle yourself from her and go to the fridge. “We’re out of milk.”

“No, we’re not.” Lena’s voice comes from behind you. You turn around to look at her, all suit up. She has a maroon suit on, and her hair is tied up in a very tight ponytail. She looks very impressive which is normal for her. “Look carefully.”

“I did!” You answer and you see her coming to the fridge. She puts her hand inside and takes a carton of milk out.

“Milk, daughter. Daughter, milk.” She says ironically and you close the refrigerator door with a huff sound. “Eat fast, I have a meeting I can’t be late to.”

“You always have meetings.” You go to the table and sit next to Kara. “And you can never be late to any of them.” You pour cereal into a bowl, and then milk. “It’s like this every day.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, baby.” Kara states.

“It might not, but it does sustain me.” You open a big smile. You still eat fast, though.

Lena drives you to school. This whole driving with her started when Kara was still terrified to let you walk alone. Now, she’s a little less scared, but you kept getting ready on time, and Lena never said anything to make you believe she wants this to stop, so you just keep riding with her. Because having those 10 minutes in the car ride with her it’s good, even when you’re distracted.

“How’s school now that you’re back?” She asks while staring straight ahead, and when the answer doesn’t come, she looks back at you. She takes one hand out of the wheel, and pokes your cheek. “Hey! What’s more interesting in your phone than me?”

“You don’t want me to answer that.” You joke with a smile, and you hear a sarcastic ‘ha ha’ in return. “School is still there.”

“Baby…”

“I’m joking, jeez.” You put your phone away and pat her shoulder trying to calm her. “Everything is fine, mom. I got my grades back up, and everyone loves me now.”

“Yeah?”

“No, I’m just kidding again.” You laugh and she makes an annoyed sound that you decide to ignore. She stops the car in front of the school, and you see Jamie getting out of her mami’s momvan. “Well, gotta go. Thanks for the ride.” You kiss her cheek. “Love ya, have a great day!”

“You too, babygirl.” Lena smiles back at you, watching you getting out of the car. “Don’t break anything, I love you!”

You close the door and turn on your heels, rolling your eyes. If you had a dollar for every time Lena said ‘don’t break anything’, you would be the billionaire by now.

“Hey weirdo.” You catch up to Jamie.

“Hey dipshit.” She answers, putting her phone back in her pocket. “Did you do the chemistry homework? Can I copy?”

Oh, if you had a dollar for that too.

School goes on like it always does, and you can’t help but think that it really doesn’t matter that you have superpowers and a not-so-average intelligence. School is still school for everyone. Kids have pretty much the same problems, questions and indecisions. And you’re just another one in that sea of moody teenagers going from one class to the other.

It's great that you have a girlfriend now. And even if that still doesn’t feel like a normal thing in your life, you two have fallen into a routine very quickly. You see each other when you arrive at school, have a few classes together, have lunch with Jamie in the same table you’ve always seated on, and when the school is over you two steal some moments alone, before either of you have to go home. Today it’s no different.

You don’t go to L Corp. You have lots of homework and reading to do, and you also don’t have any idea for an invention, which is, surprise surprise, also very common for you. Jamie thinks you’re always flooding with ideas and that couldn’t be further from the truth. On your ordinary days, you work very hard and things still don’t go anywhere. So, you just go home and do your boring school activities.

“Hey, whatcha working on?” Kara asks, opening your bedroom door, hours after you sat down, and you look up from your books.

“Homework.” You take off your glasses feeling your vision blurry on the sides. Kara walks in and kisses the top of head.

“Why don’t you take a break, huh?” She asks, like she can see it on your face you’ve been here long enough, and you’re tired already. “Look what I've got you.” Kara gives you a donut and you smile at her.

“You know me so well.” You take it from her hands and eat fast. “Thanks, momma.”

“Come help us with dinner.” She asks and you look at your books deciding you’ve studied enough. You follow her to the kitchen where Lena is already cooking. “Look who I found nose buried in her books.”

“Oh, it’s our little nerd.” Lena chuckles and she kisses your temple when you’re close enough. “Did you clean your bedroom?”

“Mmm…” You haven’t, but you don’t want to tell her that. But then again, Kara was just inside your room, so you can’t exactly lie. You look at Kara for support and she shakes her head agreeing, like she’s giving you permission to say yes. “Mhm, yeah.”

“Ok.” Lena puts your hair behind your ear and smiles softly. “You can clean up after you help us with dinner.”

You huff while pouting, making both of them giggle at you.

“How did you know I was lying?”

“Oh, that part was actually really simple, because you see… I’m not an idiot.” She winks at you and you agree with your head. “Now, why don’t you help me?” Lena points at the top shelf. “Can you grab that bowl for me?”

“Why? You can’t reach it?” You joke, making Kara wheeze a laughter behind you, and it takes her a whole minute to recover from that. Even with Lena looking at her like she is going to commit murder if she doesn't stop.

“Don’t sass me.” It’s Lena’s response and you fly a little off the ground to grab what she asked for.

So, you all finish making dinner, and eating it, while talking about your days. And that includes Lena’s boring meetings with people who know way less than she knows, but still try to convince her that she’s wrong. Includes Kara’s interviewing various uninteresting people to the unexciting news piece that she’s writing. And your tedious classes, and uncreative ideas. The day is so dull, there wasn’t even any Supergirl emergency.

When dinner is done, and the kitchen is clean, they make their way to the couch, and you clean your bedroom using your super speed, so you can join them right after. The three of you just watch TV, and laugh, and exist.

If you’re being honest, you would trade all the kidnappings, assassination attempts, saving National City emergencies, to these dull days, easily. Because just existing next to them it’s so freaking good, you don’t need anything else.

Notes:

Thank you to my sister (not irl) @supercorpdaughter for this prompt :)

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp daughter #supercorp fanfic #supercorpfamily #lena x reader #reader insert

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years

Text

Rudely in Love

MAIN MASTERLIST

Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 1,650ish

Summary: You and Tony are in love with each other, but neither of you can see it. Tony is afraid of his feelings, so he starts treating you poorly.

Notes: Requests close in a few hours! Send yours in before it’s too late! Guidelines are in the pinned post on my blog.

“Hey, Tony,” you greeted, coming into the lab. “I finished the paperwork for you. I thought that you—“

“I really don’t have time, right now, Y/N,” Tony said, quite rudely, as he continued working.

“Just, Fury wants these tomorr—“

“Then just leave them on my desk. I’ll get to them later.”

“Okay,” you mumbled. “See you later, Tony.” The man didn’t even make it seem like he had heard you. You sighed. “See you later, Bruce.”

“Have a good day, Y/N,” Bruce replied with a small smile as you hurried out of the lab.

You had been a part of the Avengers since the beginning. You had been a free lance shot for hire until Fury found you and convinced you to help him, just mere weeks before the Battle of New York. Your skills had been helpful during the battle and on missions since. And you got along with everyone on the team. Well, you used to get along with everyone. For the past few months, Tony had been growing increasingly more rude to you. For no obvious reason. And it hurt. The two of you had been close friends until the change of attitude. And you had even developed feelings for the man, but it was clear to you that he didn’t feel the same.

You couldn’t have been more wrong though. Tony had fallen in love with you. But he struggled to show it. He was scared, ever since Pepper broke it off, that you’d leave him for the same reasons she did. He was an all night workaholic with serve PTSD. You had understood that as a friend, but you hadn’t ever seen the full extent. And Tony was afraid of what would happen if you did. So, he decided to push down his feelings and, in turn, push you away.

It hurt the team to watch what was happening. They all knew that the two of you had feelings for one another. And they thought that someone was going to confess before Tony started acting so rude. You had always been so fun loving and happy, but you were slowly losing that as Tony grew meaner and meaner. But you refused to say anything mean about him, cause, sadly, you still loved him.

Bruce watched with worried eyes as you hurried out of the lab, which you used to spend hours in, keeping him and Tony company.

“You know, you could have used a nicer tone,” Bruce suggested as he got to work. “Y/N was just trying to help you.”

“She was just trying to annoy me,” Tony said. “And I’ve finally started to see it.”

“She has never been nothing but nice to you. And it hurts to see you treat her to poorly. Everyone, but her, knows that you actually love her. You’re just too scared to get hurt.” Tony ignored Bruce. “Just, please, be kinder too her. I could feel the Other Guy wanting to come out because of the way your were acting, and we really don’t need him making a mess of things too.”

~~~

It was team movie night, the first one in months. And, usually, Tony and you would sit next to each other, basically cuddling on the love seat. So the team, who was already seated, had left the love seat open. They were all silently hoping that it would help with whatever was going on. Tony arrived into the room first, immediately going to his usual spot. But as soon as you arrived, he propped his legs up, taking up your spot. You saw what Tony did and looked around the room to see if there was another spot. Sadly, there wasn’t and you sighed before heading over.

“Hey, Tony,” you said quietly. “Mind if I sit next to you?”

“Sorry, the seats taken,” he answered, not even bothering to look at you. All the team though was trying not to stare at the seen.

“Oh. Cause, well… I just thought, since we usually sit by each other that we could—“

“Well you thought wrong, Y/N. Just like you always do.”

You stepped back, kind of shocked at the words leaving Tony’s mouth. “Tony, I—“

“Oh, would you just shut up already!” He finally made eye contact with you, but barely. “Nobody wants to hear what you have to say!”

“Tony,” a few gasps and reprimands were heard throughout the room.

You stood there, staring at Tony with wide eyes, before keeping the tears back became too hard and you ran out of the room. The team were frozen until they heard the slam of your door.

“You crossed a line, Tony,” Steve stated, standing. The rest of the team followed suit. “That’s no way to treat anyone.”

“Especially the woman you love,” Natasha added.

~~~

You spent most of the next days in your room, crying. You were trying to figure out what you ever saw in the man. If you did venture out, you would always ask JARVIS where Tony was. The AI always willingly answered, he seemed to have chosen your side in all this. With the team and JARVIS on your side, you were lucky enough to never have to see the man.

“You know, he just has a hard time expressing his feelings since Pepper,” Natasha said one time after bringing you dinner. “He’s actually in love with you.”

You scoffed. “Yeah right. He’s been pushing me away for months.”

“Trust me, he’s still in love with you.”

“Well he sucks at showing it…. And I want to move on.”

“How about we give something a little test run?”

“What are you taking about Nat?”

“We’re hosting a charity gala in a few days, right?” You nodded. “So, what if you made Tony jealous? We get you all dolled up from head to toe, get to an attractive date, and see how Tony acts. If he doesn’t absolutely lose his shit and make his move, then you can move on.”

“Seeing him squirm might be fun. Alright, I’m in.”

~~~

Natasha had bought a dress for and convinced Steve into being your date the next morning. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you couldn’t help but want Tony to get jealous and finally apologize.

Natasha helped you get ready before the gala and Steve, ever the gentleman, picked you up at the door with nothing but uplifting compliments. You had been nervous, but having Steve by your side helped a little. He escorted you into the room and the two of you made your rounds, trying to get money from all the millionaires there. As you and Steve made your rounds, you could feel eyes on you. Following you wherever you went.

Tony couldn’t help himself with the staring. You looked absolutely stunning. It was killing him. Just like seeing you smiling and laughing on the arm of Captain America was. He was frozen at his spot at the bar, taking angry sips of his whiskey as he continued you watch you. He had felt terrible ever since that movie night. It broke his heart when he saw your eyes fill with tears and you run off. He was really being a jerk to you. Tonight, he hoped to begin to mend that, but you seemed to have come with Steve tonight. Making him jealous.

“Woah there, Stark,” Natasha said as she watched him down the rest of his second drink. “I think your turning more green than the Hulk.”

“What is she doing with him?” Tony growled. “Are they like a thing now?”

Natasha shrugged. “She was down, and he saw an opportunity to make someone happy. I think it’s sweet.”

Tony’s jaw clenched and his gripped tightened against his glass, all things Natasha noticed. She smirked.

“Why don’t you just go over there and steal her?” She suggested. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind after an apology.”

“I need another drink,” Tony grumbled, walking away to find a bar tender.

~~~

You stuck to Steve’s side all night. You two always made sure you were touching, whether it was arm in arm or his arm around your waist. Anything to try and make Tony jealous, and it was working. Tony watched as you excused yourself from Steve for the first time tonight, and headed for the restroom. He downed the rest of his drinking, hoping for some liquid courage, before he followed. He waited outside the restroom, quickly grabbing you by the arm once you exited and dragged you down the hall.

“Tony, what are you doing?” You asked as he dragged you along.

He didn’t answer. He simply turned the corner, pinned you up against the wall, and kissed you. It was hard and desperate.

“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me all night,” Tony whispered after pulling away. “I am so sorry, Y/N. I should have never treated you the way I did. You deserve way better than that, way better than me. But, Y/N…. I can’t stop thinking about you…. I love you. And I understand that you might not feel the same after what I’ve done. But I just needed you to know.”

“You stupid, stupid man,” you shook your head as you spoke. “You should have just told me instead of being so rude.”

“I understand. I’ll just—“

You grabbed his hand, stopping him from leaving. “I wasn’t finished. The reason I got all dressed up and spent the night on Steve’s arm was because I was trying to make you jealous. Because, Tony, I love you too.”

A smile broke out on the billionaire’s face. “You do?”

“I do.”

Tony quickly kissed you again, putting his hands on your back to hold you to him.

“I’m never letting you go,” Tony whispered.

“I sure hope not,” you replied.

#tony stark x reader #iron man x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel imagine #tony stark imagine #tony stark

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Text

A Little Fall Of Rain

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Scott, John

Here is my contribution to @tagminibang! My artist was the absolutely fantastic @chenria and you can find her accompanying art over here. Something nice and family friendly from us here (please don’t mind the title, it has nothing to do with a certain musical song), and of course some good old Scott&John because who doesn’t love that?

John’s pulled one of his disappearing acts again, and Scott can’t relax until he knows where he’s gone.

People. There were people everywhere, all dressed to the nines and peacocking around. Nothing particularly unusual for an event hosted by Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, where no-one in attendance was worth less than at least ten million dollars apiece and appearing to be the poorest in the room would make you a target for the vampires of the elite.

It was a gauntlet Scott would have gladly accepted, not particularly bothered by how others perceived him and his wealth, except the problem with being a Tracy was that his status of multi-billionaireness was well known, and he was actually richer than most of the aristocracy in attendance, even if there were a few Old Money families that looked down their noses at the Tracys for being New Money.

Still, the buffer of their wealth was, at least, sparing his brother from being preyed upon as the poor, charity case invited to look good. Scott wasn’t sure who the actual poorest person in the room was, but anything to keep at least some of the pressure of the occasion off of John was always worth it.

It was a well known fact that John despised this sort of event. Too many people, too much noise and gravity, too many expected conversations and a lot of interest in the elusive Tracy. Scott still wasn’t sure why Lady Penelope insisted he attend these things, and knew that John was going to hide himself up on Thunderbird Five for at least a month and come down for absolutely nothing or no-one as soon as he escaped the party. She called it good for him, and a breath of fresh air, and Scott only let it slide because John never actually said no.

Speaking of his brother, he’d once again lost sight of the distinctive ginger hair amongst the vibrant colours of the event. Hopefully, that meant that John was just in hiding, rather than the chance he’d been dragged into a conversation out of Scott’s current sight. He glanced around the room again, just to be sure, and when no flash of ginger caught his eye, set his shoulders and beelined for their host.

Resplendent in a stunning light pink ballgown, elegant hands covered with equally elegant white gloves and hair coiffed into something gravity-defying yet somehow not at all outrageous, Lady Penelope was entertaining an elderly woman who Scott had been briefly introduced to earlier in the event, some hours ago, as the Duchess of Royston. As far as the British aristocrats seemed to go, she seemed quite amicable, so Scott had no qualms about stepping in as their conversation paused.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but have you seen John recently?”

“Have you lost him?” Lady Penelope asked, sounding the faintest bit amused. If it was anyone else, Scott would have been annoyed at that, but a longstanding friendship with the Lady told him there was no malice or judgement behind it. It was the amusement of someone who knew how much John hated crowds, and how much Scott could, according to his brothers, hover. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen him recently.”

The answer wasn’t surprising, but it was a little disappointing.

“The redheaded young man?” the Duchess asked, and Scott turned to her. “I do believe I saw him heading for the doors earlier.” She gestured to the small side door that led out of the ballroom and, if Scott’s memory served, towards the gardens.

John was likely hiding, then.

Scott smiled at both women. “Thank you,” he said, inclining his head a little towards the older of the two. “I’ll leave you to your conversation. Sorry again for the interruption.”

“What a charming young man,” he heard as he walked away. “Penelope, I know it’s not my place to say, but you could do far worse than a man like that.”

Scott picked up the pace a little, determined to get out of earshot of whatever reply to that Lady Penelope would make, and making a note to never let Gordon know.

The rich like to talk to the rich, and although Scott was on a mission to find and check on his brother, he was waylaid by at least three other people all wanting to discuss all manner of things from International Rescue to, disconcertingly, his ongoing bachelorship before he was able to slip through the door and head down the corridor.

Soundproofing cut off the hubbub of conversation the moment the door clicked shut behind him, proving an excellent argument for why John would come this way, and Scott followed the hallway until he found a bay window that overlooked one of the many gardens in the Creighton-Ward estate.

John was perched on the window sill, although window seat was probably a more accurate term, looking out at the gentle rain falling from the sky. Raindrops raced each other down the panes of glass, and Scott silently settled next to him, waiting to be acknowledged.

It didn’t take long. “I’m fine,” his brother said quietly, still looking out the window rather than turning to face him. Scott hadn’t expected him to. “You can go back.”

Scott let out a wry chuckle. “The hot topic right now seems to be how eligible a bachelor I am,” he said, leaning forwards on his knees and watching his brother out of the corner of his eye. “If you don’t mind, I think I’d quite like to stay here until they move on to other things.”

His brother let out a hmm, sounding thoroughly amused at that, and Scott rolled his eyes. He knew full well that John was more than happy for him to be the target of that particular type of conversation, because it meant most of them would forget to ask him the same questions. Sibling solidarity only went so far, and perhaps even more so than the rest of his brothers, John was all too willing to throw him under the bus to evade the limelight himself.

“If they follow you here, I am leaving,” John threatened mildly. “And then you will not be welcome to follow me.” It wasn’t an empty threat, but that didn’t matter because Scott would always use himself as bait if it meant a brother could escape a bad situation. Besides, John knew Lady Penelope’s manor far better than he did, and Scott knew if John really wanted to hide, even he wouldn’t be able to find him until the ginger was ready to be found.

It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. John had never been a fan of social situations and had mastered the art of disappearing young. Scott had many memories of running around frantically, trying in vain to find where his brother had got to after taking his eye off of him for two seconds. For someone with such vibrant natural colouring, John was unfairly good at the vanishing act.

He sighed and settled back against the window pane more comfortably. At least John was old enough now to look after himself if he did vanish, and would always come home eventually - even if it was only a necessary stop on his way back to Thunderbird Five and the stars while he recuperated from socialising. It was a marked improvement from when he’d vanish as a child and leave everyone in a panic until he reappeared hours later.

Scott had never quite shaken the instinct to panic when he vanished, no matter how old and self-sufficient his brother was now.

“I can hear you thinking from here,” John said suddenly, and Scott glanced up at him again. He was still watching the rain out the window, seemingly disinterested in paying any attention to his older brother - aside from the comment, which made it perfectly clear that John was, in fact, keeping track of him with at least part of that big brain of his. “I told you I’m fine.”

“I know you are,” he assured him, feeling the cool of the glass seep towards his scalp from where he was resting his head against the window.

John gave a considering hum. “In that case, I’ll assume you’re working yourself into a panic unnecessarily.”

Scott huffed, unwilling to concede the point. “I am not working myself into a panic,” he retorted, a little defensively.

His brother finally turned his head away from the window slightly, enough for one turquoise eye to come into view. The accompanying ginger eyebrow rose in challenging disbelief and Scott scowled in response.

“I was just thinking about all the vanishing acts you tend to pull at things like this,” he admitted after a moment. The visible turquoise eye rolled at him before John turned back to face the window. He didn’t say anything in response, but he didn’t need to; his body language broadcasted perfectly well that he thought Scott was being an idiot.

Scott was used to that attitude - none of his brothers ever seemed to fully appreciate what it was like to be their big brother, after all. Gordon might proudly claim that his grey hairs were all down to his fish of a brother, but the truth of the matter was that they’d all contributed.

Still, Scott wouldn’t change any of them for the world.

Raindrops raced down the large window, merging and lingering and swallowing smaller ones before darting several inches further down in a blink of an eye. It was a mesmerising sight; no wonder John was so captivated by the weather.

Then again, he didn’t get rain in space.

Scott was on his feet before his mind caught up. His movement caught John’s attention, judging by the way the single, turquoise eye reappeared to regard him once more.

“Going back already?” his brother asked. “I thought you were hiding from the discussions about your eligible bachelorship.” There was no sympathy at all in John’s voice, just an undercurrent of amusement. Scott suspected he wouldn’t be hearing the end of it for a while.

“No,” he said truthfully, which was apparently unexpected enough for John to look away from the window completely.

“Then where are you going?” his brother asked. John was normally far too perceptive for Scott’s liking, and he probably shouldn’t be relishing catching him out as much as he was.

“Come on,” Scott invited in answer, tilting his head towards the window. “Let’s go.”

John glanced back towards the window, raising an eyebrow at the rain still falling. “You want to go outside?”

“Why not?” Scott shrugged. “No-one’s going to chase us out there.”

“Because their clothes would get ruined,” John pointed out. “Like ours will.”

Scott rolled his eyes. He wasn’t so attached to the suit he was currently wearing that he’d mourn the loss, and he knew John felt similarly about his own formal clothes.

“They’re replaceable,” he pointed out. “So, are you coming?”

John’s arguments didn’t fool him one bit - one thing his brother truly missed when he was amongst the stars was the cool sensation of rain on his skin, and Scott suspected that the only reason he’d been sat in the bay window instead of somewhere in the Creighton-Ward’s impressive grounds was because he’d known Scott would come looking for him sooner or later, and would have panicked if he couldn’t find him.

Sure enough, with one last sigh that was entirely put-upon, John extended his long legs and made his way to his feet. “Lead the way.”

Scott wasn’t as familiar with the manor as his brother, but he had a pretty good idea where most of the external doors were. John stayed at his shoulder as they passed through the hallways, bereft of any of the other guests, who were all no doubt still gossiping in the ballroom, and found a door that led outside.

The rain wasn’t a monsoon, but it was steady, leaving the sky heavy and grey, and misting out the trees on the far edge of the lawn. Scott lingered in the threshold of the door for a moment, watching the weather, but his brother had no such hesitation.

A little brother he might be, but John had never needed Scott to lead the way. With the assurance that Scott now knew where he was, and wouldn’t be hunting him down frantically, he strode out past him, the fabric covering his shoulder just brushing Scott’s, and out into the rain.

Scott lingered a moment longer, watching the way John tilted his face up slightly to greet the rain, the ginger curl of his bangs losing some of its volume as it dampened. John didn’t beam like their brothers when he was happy, but there was a relaxation in his face and a draining of tension in his body that told Scott that he’d got it right. John really had wanted to go out in the rain.

When his brother’s vibrant eyes slid closed, he took the final step outside himself, feeling the cool raindrops caressing his own skin and seeping into his hair. His hair gel was going to wash out if he stayed out here for too long, but that was a small price to pay to see John enjoying himself down on Earth.

So was the suit. The already black fabric of his jacket darkened even further with water almost immediately, and he knew that by the time John was ready to go inside again, it would be completely ruined. As he’d said to his brother, though, the suits were replaceable.

John’s happiness was not. Scott would ruin a hundred jackets if it meant seeing John so relaxed and content.

Jacketless, his brother’s shirt was quickly becoming soaked through, the white material clinging to his body - the same way his vibrant hair was starting to plaster to his scalp - gaining hints of translucency, and the thought crossed Scott’s mind that he’d have to make sure John didn’t get sick later. The astronaut didn’t seem to care about that, though, standing stock still for several minutes with his hands loosely hanging by his side and his face tilted upwards.

Scott hung back, several paces away but still outside in the rain himself. Cool droplets trickled down the back of his neck, originating somewhere around his hairline, and he could tell even without raising a hand to check that his own hair was plastering itself to his scalp in much the same way as John’s. One droplet ran down from his forehead and caught the corner of his eye, tangled up in eyelashes, and Scott blinked twice to clear it. Reluctantly it got the message and carried on down his face, running over his cheek and trailing down towards his chin.

They didn’t get rain like this at home. English rain was strange, and definitely nothing like the tropical rains Tracy Island witnessed. Even Kansas weather had been different to this. The water was cool and refreshing on his skin, and after several moments Scott took another couple of steps forwards, towards his brother.

He didn’t enter his personal space, though. If John wanted him there, he would make it clear - most likely by moving himself until he was within arm’s reach of Scott. As they’d come out here to escape the crowds, however, Scott deemed that unlikely. Instead, he wandered past him, away from the manor and large ballroom windows. If the wrong person looked out and saw them, their little rainy peace would be broken by someone else who cared less for their clothes than chasing Tracys.

Scott made sure to keep John in view, not prepared to hunt his brother down if the ginger pulled another disappearing act, even as he found a lone tree standing proud in the middle of the manicured lawn and slipped around it, allowing the trunk to conceal him from anyone glancing outside.

Exactly what type of tree it was, he didn’t know, but it was large and broad, boughs extending out above his head and providing a meagre shelter from the rain. It was the same as the trees that made up the woodland at the far edge of the lawn - also large and proud, but with enough space between some of them to hide a Thunderbird. His own ‘bird lurked inside, concealed from view and waiting to carry the two of them back home the next morning.

Tonight, Lady Penelope had insisted, they would stay with her, and Scott had no reason to decline. He did, however, hope that it was an invitation that hadn’t been extended to any of the other guests. Evading their apparent fixation with his marriage status - or lack thereof - was not something he wanted to have to spend all night and breakfast doing as well.

No matter how amused John might be at the whole affair.

Speaking of John, his brother appeared to have noticed that he’d moved, because he’d opened his eyes and started moving forwards himself.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one hiding from the party,” the ginger commented, his voice dry and at odds with the wet shirt he was wearing. The white had gone well and truly translucent now, clinging to his body in a way that Scott knew from experience would get John hounded by half the party the next time they saw him.

He made a mental note to sacrifice his jacket in John’s direction before they went back in. It wouldn’t be a perfect fit, but it would at least keep the attention off of him long enough for John to scrounge up a change of clothes.

“Yeah, well,” he replied, shrugging. “It wouldn’t matter which of us was hiding if they spotted the other, would it?”

John let out a small chuckle in response, rounding the tree in its entirety and therefore putting himself out of sight as well. “Are you sure it’s not just because you don’t want them badgering you about being single?”

He huffed in response, crossing his arms and leaning back against the trunk. The bark rubbed against the back of his jacket, but he ignored it. The rain had already done enough damage - what was a little more?

“My relationship status is none of their business,” he grumbled, shooting his younger brother a considering look. “Wait until they start on you.”

The smirk he got in return didn’t make him feel any better.

“They won’t give me a second glance while you’re around, big brother,” John pointed out with the air of someone who knew exactly what was up, and was quietly smug about it. “No-one’s interested in the spare Tracy.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “You know, technically you’re my heir,” he reminded him. It did nothing to douse the smug smirk his brother was sending his way.

“They don’t think like that,” John shrugged confidently. He was still out from underneath the protection of the boughs, rain falling on his skin and leaving trails of water across it. Scott watched a raindrop run right to the tip of his nose and hang there; the astronaut didn’t even seem to notice, even though it made Scott’s own nose twitch empathetically. “The only heirs they’re interested in are the unborn ones you don’t have because you’re still an eligible bachelor.”

Urgh. Scott pulled a face. “Did you have to put it like that?”

John’s ongoing smirk confirmed that yes, he did have to phrase it like that. Little brothers - who wanted them?

Scott refused to give John any satisfaction by saying that out loud, although he suspected that didn’t actually matter. If there was anyone who had mastered the art of mind-reading, Scott would put John right at the top of the suspect list.

“Well,” John said after a moment, shifting his weight. “I’m going to go for a walk. Are you coming, or would you rather hide under the tree?”

“I’m sheltering,” Scott corrected. John made an uh huh noise in the back of his throat which he purposefully ignored. Still, if John was offering company, instead of retreating into his own personal space, then Scott wasn’t going to turn that down. The problem with John living in space was that he just didn’t get to see this particular little brother in person as much as he’d like.

He pushed off from the tree, straightening up and shoving his hands in his pockets as he took the couple of short steps back out into the rain. John hadn’t bothered to wait for him, and he had to jog a couple more paces before he was at his brother’s side.

It felt like the rain had got heavier, but the droplets were still cool and refreshing on his face, even if he could feel his hair wilting under the weight. Beside him, John’s hair had all but lost its usual curl, vibrant strands of ginger instead plastered to his forehead. His brother didn’t seem to care at all.

Despite inviting him along, John didn’t seem particularly inclined towards conversation as he picked his way across the expansive grounds of the Creighton-Ward manor. It was clear that this was far from his brother’s first time doing so; while Scott started getting a little turned around by all the identically pruned bushes and perfect flowerbeds, John continued unerringly as though it was his ridiculously large garden.

Not that Scott could really comment on the size of the Creighton-Ward estate when his own home consisted of an entire volcano. Both the ranch and the Kansas farm spanned equally large acreage; the Tracys had never been a stranger to calling huge swathes of land home.

John had easily spent enough time in this manor during his Oxford days to have the entire estate mapped out in that impressive brain of his. Scott resolved to never play hide and seek with him here.

The silence that hung between them was a comfortable one. On some levels, it was more touching and heartfelt than if John had wanted to talk - John was a huge fan of personal space, and being invited to share it, trusted to share it, when he had so clearly hit his socialising quota already was akin to an honour.

Rain continued to fall, Scott’s jacket feeling more and more sodden by the minute, but John never headed for anything remotely resembling shelter. The weather wasn’t particularly warm, either. By English standards it might have been passable, but being used to the tropics meant that Scott found it decidedly on the cool side.

John seemed unaffected, but then again John spent most of his time in a rigidly controlled environment and hated the heat. Scott still hoped he’d be able to persuade Parker to get them both a hot drink when they re-entered the manor building. Then again, he wouldn’t put it past the older man to bundle them straight to their rooms with layers of blankets and disapproving mumbles. The former crook liked to pretend he was as tough as nails - and in some respects he was - but he was also quick to fuss over the few friends he had.

Being counted amongst that number was almost as high an honour as being invited to share John’s personal bubble.

Sunbeams poked out from behind the grey clouds as they were strolling through one of several rose gardens - or maybe it was the same one and John had led them around in circles a few times. In answer, the rain faded away into nothing and the world hung, heavy and still. John stopped walking, and Scott followed suit.

Above them, the clouds were dispersing. It seemed that the rain was over, at least for now, although the world around them shimmered a little like crystal as sun caught beads of water clinging to the flowers, the grass, the trees. John glistened as well, his hair transformed into a burning halo as the sun caught the water plastering it to his scalp.

Hands in his pockets and face once again tilted to the sky, Scott’s little brother appeared to be considering something. What, there was no point asking. If John wanted him to be part of the decision making process, he’d say so. Scott suspected he was debating if he wanted to stay outside or duck inside the manor to escape the reappearing sun.

John missed the rain on Thunderbird Five. He did not miss the sunburn.

Sure enough, after a moment his brother turned to face him.

“I’m heading back inside,” John said. “Are you done hiding from your eligible bachelorness yet or are you going to stay out here?”

Scott huffed at him, narrowing his eyes in displeasure at the jab. John really wasn’t going to be letting that go any time soon.

“They’ll have moved topics by now,” he replied, a lot more confidently than he felt. In all honesty, he had no idea how long it would be the hot topic for, but if he stayed out later than John he’d never live it down.

“That topic won’t be dropped until you’re married with kids,” his brother pointed out. Scott scowled. “But if you’re sure you’re ready to go back in…” He trailed off meaningfully and, without waiting for Scott, started striding back towards the manor.

Not wanting to let his brother out of his sight, and maybe a little unsure of the paths back, Scott lengthened his stride to catch up with him again. Turquoise eyes glanced sideways at him, and John’s face settled into subtle amusement.

Scott decided it was best for his pride if he didn’t ask what was funny.

He glanced up at the sky as they walked. The shimmer of moisture in the air was fading as the sun grew stronger and the clouds continued on their merry way to deposit rain on some other part of the English countryside. It wouldn’t be raining again just yet.

His foot caught something hard and he stumbled. Instantly a vice-like grip appeared on his arm, yanking him back upright and steadying him.

“And you call me the clumsy one,” John commented lightly. “Watch where you’re walking.”

Scott glared down at the flowerbed border he’d apparently walked into before switching targets to his brother. John, as always, seemed completely unperturbed at the look. Turquoise eyes looked him up and down, clearly making sure he hadn’t somehow hurt himself with his stumble, before the grip on his arm vanished and John continued down the path.

Sending another glare at the border, Scott followed.

Being behind John quickly brought back the reason why he’d been checking the sky. While the rain had stopped, the white shirt his brother was wearing was still very soaked through, with the consequences of that on full display. Scott shrugged out of his own, soaking wet, jacket.

“John,” he called, lengthening his strides to catch up. His brother paused and turned back to look at him quizzically, jumping as Scott draped the waterlogged jacket over his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” the astronaut asked, making to shrug the fabric off. “Carry your own jacket, Scott.”

Scott caught the fabric before it could fall to the ground. “John, you’re wearing a white shirt.”

A single eyebrow raised. “Your observational skills are unparalleled.”

Little brothers. Scott huffed. “And yours are lacking,” he retorted. “You wore a white shirt in the rain.”

John looked at him, puzzled, for a moment, before comprehension dawned across his face. A quick glance down had his pale skin reddening slightly.

“Oh.”

Scott shook his head fondly and draped the jacket around his brother’s shoulders again. This time it was gratefully accepted. They weren’t quite the same size, but Scott’s shoulders were the broader of the two, so while the fabric bunched a little oddly when John threaded his arms through the sleeves and fumbled the buttons until it was concealing as much of the wet white shirt as possible, it did at least fit. Scott was grateful it wasn’t Virgil.

“You might want to go and get changed into something dry,” he suggested. “Get out of those clothes.”

“I didn’t bring a spare suit,” John reminded him. “I don’t have anything else with me suitable for Lady P’s party.”

Scott rolled his eyes and started walking again. “Then just don’t come back to the party,” he said bluntly. “That’s not exactly a tragedy for you. You can see Lady Penelope again once it’s over - she won’t care what you’re wearing.”

“She will care,” John corrected, catching up to him. “She’ll judge my outfit and everything.” Despite the words being ones of apparent complaint, he didn’t actually seem that bothered about it. Then again, he had survived going to university with the woman. Their friendship was on a completely different level compared to the one the rest of the Tracys shared with her.

“Just go and get yourself out of those wet clothes and make yourself comfortable for the rest of the evening,” Scott sighed. “I’ll make your excuses.”

“If I need to get changed, why don’t you?” John challenged. Scott grinned at him and tapped his own shirt.

“Not white,” he pointed out. Well, admittedly, he would call it white, but according to Virgil it was cream, and according to the weather that combined with the covering jacket meant that it hadn’t gone the same way as John’s white shirt. “Ergo, still appropriate for polite company.”

John scrutinised him for several moments as they walked, as though he was trying to find an excuse why Scott’s outfit wasn’t appropriate any more.

“You’ll get sick if you stay in wet clothes too long,” he said eventually. “Make sure you come up and get changed soon.”

“I don’t have a spare suit, either,” Scott admitted. “I’ll be fine.” It couldn’t be that many more hours before the end of the party, surely…

“If you’re not up in half an hour I’m sending Parker to extract you,” John said firmly. “Virgil will have both our hides if you go home sick.”

“Half an hour?” Scott repeated. “I’ll be lucky to talk to Lady Penelope by then. You’ll have to give me longer than that.” There was no point telling John not to enlist Parker at all - his brother would hum non-committedly then do it anyway the instant he was out of earshot.

John scoffed. “You’ll find a way,” he said confidently. “Just flirt your way through the crowds like you normally do. Half an hour, then Parker will get involved.”

They’d arrived back at the manor itself, and John sent him one last smug grin before vanishing up what had to be a servant’s staircase before Scott could try another attempt to bargain for more time. With a quiet groan, Scott adjusted his damp tie and headed back towards the ballroom.

His wet - and likely bedraggled - appearance caused a stir when he re-entered the room. Conversations stopped, eyes stared, and then the whispering started. Well, he’d take them talking about him over attempts to restart the conversations about his relationship status.

He scanned the room for the tell-tale flash of pink, locating Lady Penelope just before she came to a stop in front of him.

“I was under the impression you were looking for John, not trying to impersonate a drowned rat,” the Lady commented lightly. “You also appear to have misplaced your jacket, Scott.”

He shrugged lazily. “John wanted to go outside.”

“I see.” From the fond look that flickered in her eyes, she probably did get it. The British aristocrat was the closest thing John had to a best friend, after all. “And where is John now?”

“Retiring for the evening,” Scott explained. “Or at least until the party’s over and the stars are out.”

Lady Penelope laughed a little at that. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” she agreed. “And what about you? I notice today’s main topic of discussion isn’t to your liking.” There was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes that was entirely too similar to John’s reaction.

Scott decided the best thing to do was ignore it.

“I should get changed,” he admitted. “I’ll see you after the party’s over?”

“I dare say you should,” Lady Penelope agreed, “before you turn my ballroom into a swimming pool. Very well, I’ll see you boys later.” She turned away, and immediately got caught in another conversation with a guest.

Scott took the opportunity to duck back out of the room, evading anyone who might want to corner him for further conversations that he really didn’t care for.

Parker was standing just outside the door.

“Ah, there you h’are,” the butler said as Scott narrowly avoided walking into him. “h’I h’understand you’re done for the h’evening?”

Scott checked his watch. “There’s no way it’s been half an hour already,” he said suspiciously.

“‘alf h’an hour since when?” Parker asked innocently. “Master John said nothing h’about h’a time limit.” No, of course John didn’t. Pesky little brother. “Well, h’as you h’appear to be trying to turn h’into a drowned rat, h’I’d say you need a nice warm drink h’and a change h’of clothes.”

“That’s the plan,” Scott admitted. “I’ll see you later, Parker.”

“That you will,” the older man agreed, and Scott paused with his foot on the bottom step of the staircase. “h’I’ll be bringing h’up some ‘ot chocolate for the pair h’of you in a few minutes. ‘Onestly, what were you thinking, going h’out h’in the rain like that?”

Scott shrugged. “John wanted to,” he said, before resuming his ascent of the staircase, knowing that Parker would make good on his promise and be up soon with the drinks.

The Creighton-Ward manor was huge, and the guest suites were equally so. There was no sharing of bedrooms when they stayed overnight, but as Scott entered the room designated as his, he discovered a brother lounging on his bed, tablet in hand. Ginger hair was ruffled and sticking up all over the place - a clear victim of a towel drying - and the soaked suit had been replaced by a much less formal shirt and jeans.

“Don’t you have your own room?” he asked, not breaking his stride as he headed for his overnight bag and pulled out a change of clothes.

“Parker’s bringing the drinks here,” John replied, not looking up from whatever it was he was reading. “It makes more sense for me to be here.” Scott huffed and worked his tie loose from around his neck.

“You just wanted to make sure I didn’t stay in the party,” he accused.

John didn’t deny it, and Scott rolled his eyes before heading into the ensuite to dry off and get changed into his more casual clothes. No more formal suit and tie for him tonight.

When he re-emerged several minutes later, his own hair rivalling John’s for towel-dried mess and begging for another round of brushing and hair gel, Parker had arrived with the promised steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

“Drink up, the both of you,” the man demanded. “Going h’out in the rain like that, I h’ask you.” He shook his head despairingly. “What will your Gran say h’if you go and get yourself sick?”

“We won’t get sick, Parker,” Scott said confidently, accepting his mug and letting the warmth seep from the ceramic into his fingers. “We didn’t get that wet.”

“Don’t h’underestimate the English weather,” Parker warned. “Drink that h’up and wrap h’up warm.”

John appeared silently at his elbow and claimed his own mug before retreating back to the bed. Scott watched him burrow his bare feet under the covers and huffed.

“That’s my bed, you know,” he complained. John lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

“So?”

“So, leave some room for me.” Mug in hand, Scott settled himself next to his brother, nudging him over gently. John obliged, and after a few moments of shifting around, the pair of them were sat shoulder to shoulder with their feet under the covers.

Parker eyed them approvingly, and then tossed a blanket over their laps as well.

“h’I’ll be back once the party’s h’over,” he told them. “Keep warm.”

“We’ll be fine,” Scott assured him. “You don’t need to worry about us.”

Blue eyes surveyed him suspiciously. “h’I know some people that’d disagree with that h’assessment, Mr Scott. But duty calls, h’I suppose.”

Parker was clearly reluctant to leave them for some reason, but he did begrudgingly go out the door, shutting it behind him and leaving the two brothers to their drinks.

The hot chocolate was, unsurprisingly, good, and Scott found himself draining the mug in record time. Beside him, John was almost as fast, and they set the mugs down on the bedside tables almost in unison.

“Parker makes the best hot chocolate,” John commented, and Scott couldn’t help but agree.

“He does,” he agreed. “I could go for another.”

“Well, then, I’m glad I finished mine before you got it into your head to steal it,” John said dryly. “You can ask him for another one later.”

“Yeah,” Scott said, leaning back against the headboard of the bed. “I might do that. This might all be overkill-” he gestured at the warm mugs and the blanket, subtly tucking them in the bed “-but even if we’re not going to get sick, that chocolate is worth it.”

The sneeze came out of nowhere. As did the second, and the third.

The fourth sneeze came from his brother, and Scott glanced over at him with a sinking feeling. Bright turquoise met his eyes, and John gave a wane smile before sneezing again.

“I think,” his brother said, before being interrupted by another sneeze, “that maybe this wasn’t so overkill after all.”

Scott buried his face in his hands. It did nothing to stop the next sneeze, and he groaned.

“You might be right,” he admitted. “Dammit. Virgil’s going to- achoo -kill us.”

John groaned.

#tag mini bang 2021 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari write fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #lady penelope creighton-ward #aloysius parker #a little fall of rain #thunderfluff

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viia01 · 3 years

Text

A random thing I wrote that has no ending

Bruce hid a sigh as he listened to the third speaker of the night tell another terrible joke. He laughed with everyone else, too tired to do more. Ordinarily, he would lean into the opportunity to act the part of Brucie Wayne.

But he really wasn’t in the mood tonight.

The last mission with the Justice League had run overtime and Bruce was running on two hours of sleep. Ordinarily, lack of sleep wouldn’t slow Bruce down any, but for some reason he just wasn’t in the mood tonight.

Briefly, he wondered why he hadn’t allowed Alfred to make his excuses.

The presenter came back onto the stage, not so subtly wrestling the microphone away from the rambling, somewhat drunk speaker from Luthor’s company.

Bruce tuned out the speech about Wayne Enterprises’ contributions to the development of new jet propulsion technology. He had had very little to do with the development, only funded it, so most of the technical talk was going straight over his head.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

Bruce glanced to his right and saw that Hal Jordan had sat himself down in the chair behind Bruce. “Go away. We’re not supposed to know each other. People will talk.”

“Please, they’re too busy making eyes at the pretty boy you got up there singing Wayne Enterprises praises,” Hal scoffed. He was dressed in a well fitted tuxedo, though he had swapped the black jacket out for a forest green jacket decorated with elaborate rose designs.

There was a thump against the back of Bruce’s chair, and he looked down in confusion and saw that Hal had tipped his chair back on two legs, the back of it now resting against the back of Bruce’s. “Really? Are you five?”

Hal grinned at him lazily and leaned his head on Bruce’s shoulder. “No, but we’re both bored so I thought I’d entertain myself.”

“You were invited because of Ferris Air’s work with Wayne Enterprises, not to entertain yourself,” Bruce said, putting on a smile when he saw a few people looking over at him. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for Brucie Wayne to be distracted by a pretty face at an event, but Bruce didn’t have the energy or patience to put on the act tonight. “Go back to your table and Ms. Ferris.”

“See normally, I’d just put up with the crappy puns and eat all the food, but the food sucks. So now I’m not just bored, but also hungry,” Hal said, ignoring Bruce, head still resting on Bruce’s shoulder. “Is that your doing? Because if you paid them for this catering… you should get your money back.”

Bruce sighed again. “Hal…” he warned.

“Watery champagne and tiny canapes, Bruce!” Hal said teasingly, tilting his head to look at Bruce. There was a mischievous glint to his eyes.

Bruce looked at him, putting on another smile. Most people were still listening to the presenter talk about the new jet propulsions, but there were bound to be a few people watching them. “Go. Back. To. Your seat.”

Hal blinked at him a few times. “I really don’t want to. There’s an old couple there that keeps asking me if I want to ‘join them afterwards for drinks’,” he said with a grimace. “Somehow I don’t think they want drinks.”

Bruce was tired. And sore. And the last thing he wanted right now was to listen to Hal Jordan’s whining.

“And I’m getting the vibe that the rich-guys-masturbating-over-their-own-money scene isn’t exactly your speed either,” Hal continued blithely, still ignoring Bruce’s irritation. “What do you say we go and find somewhere that’s serving actual food?”

“I have responsibilities,” Bruce said immediately, clapping politely when the presenter introduced General Thomasson as the next speaker.

Hal tipped his head back further to look at the stage. “Oh shit, the big wigs are here,” he said dryly. “What do you say, Spooks? Wanna go find a burger joint?”

“No, now go back to your seat.”

Hal sighed dramatically. “You’re boring,” he said, letting his chair fall back onto all its feet with a muffled thump. He rose, the dim light playing over his face in a way that made his eyes look more amber than brown. “Guess it’s back to eating stale canapes.”

Bruce sighed as Hal walked away, ambling back to his table. In his ridiculous suit jacket, Hal looked very much the epitome of flashy West Coast flyboy and Bruce wasn’t the only one watching him.

Bruce shook thoughts of Hal Jordan away, focusing on the stage again.

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

Bruce ran through the notes he needed to hit in his speech. It was a fairly standard speech, talk about the minds behind the advances, explain the advancements as the video played, make a few jokes, and then close out by thanking everyone for coming.

For all of Bruce’s practice at playing the gregarious, fun loving Brucie Wayne, he actually didn’t enjoy it very much. It was exhausting, wearing the mask all the time and he was tired.

And hungry.

Hal had been right about the stale canapes.

“You did some really good work, Wayne,” General Thomasson said gruffly, clapping Bruce on the shoulder. “These planes will give us the edge over our enemies.”

“Anything for our troops,” Bruce said, mustering up a smile. “Can’t have them going without the best.”

The General chuckled. “And it’s only going to set the taxpayer back a couple billion, right?”

“Got to keep those stocks high,” Bruce countered jokingly. In reality, he and Lucius were already planning to wean Wayne Enterprises off the military contracts that sustained the R&D department and supplement it with investment into green energies and space exploration.

But the General didn’t need to know that just yet.

“Well, I need to go and prepare for this speech of mine,” Bruce said, even though he really didn’t. “Lots of technical speak tonight and I have to make sure I pronounce everything right.”

The General gave him a patronizing smile and wave. “Off you go, Wayne. We’ll talk business some other night.”

Bruce ducked behind a set of piled speakers and sound equipment. He pulled out his phone, to give himself a convenient cover of taking a phone call.

He took a moment to compose himself. All the small talk had taken a toll on his patience and his eyes stung with exhaustion. He knew he needed sleep and a good meal, considering how fuzzy and slow he was feeling. And the thought of going up onto that stage and enduring hours more so small talk and smiles-

“You make a big sale with the military brass?”

Bruce didn’t jump but he was surprised that he hadn’t noticed Hal’s appearance behind him. “What are you doing back here?” he asked.

Hal was holding a tray of canapes and his bowtie was untied and hanging around his neck. “Hiding from the creepy couple,” he said, offering the tray to Bruce. “You want one?”

“No. Go back to your seat,” Bruce said in exasperation. “How did you even get back here in the first place?”

Hal crunched on another canape and pulled a face. “My good looks and charm. Sure you don’t want a stale canape? It tastes like cardboard.”

“I don’t want a canape.”

Hal shrugged lazily. “So why are we hiding behind a bunch of sound equipment?” he asked through a mouthful of canape, looking at one of the speakers curiously.

“I’m not hiding, and you’re not supposed to be here.”

“I’m not supposed to be a lot of things,” Hal countered immediately. “And you’re totally hiding.”

“I am not hiding,” Bruce snapped, irritated by Hal’s very presence. He had hoped that tonight, Hal would just spend his time as far away from Bruce as possible, especially since they had had a blow out the mission before. “Go away.”

Instead of listening, Hal just arched an eyebrow at him, munching on his cardboard canapes. “You don’t want to go on that stage, huh?” he guessed.

Bruce waited for an insult or a joke at his expense.

But Hal just looked around the speakers, in the direction of the stage. “Well, I can’t say I blame you. We’ve had like ten different speakers and I remember nothing of what was said or who said it.”

“Maybe you should pay more attention, then,” Bruce replied. “And I enjoy honoring the men and women who worked hard on this latest breakthrough.”

“None of them are even here,” Hal pointed out blandly, shoving the canape tray behind one of the pieces of sound equipment. “You probably already gave them a billion dollars anyway.”

“If I gave everyone a billion dollars, I wouldn’t be a billionaire for very long,” Bruce couldn’t help but say in exasperation. He really wondered if Hal ever thought before he spoke or if he just made it up as he talked.

Hal swiped a tongue over his teeth, giving Bruce a funny look.

On stage, Bruce could hear the presenters winding up to his introduction. He steeled himself with a sigh, pulling Brucie Wayne back over himself.

Hal tilted his head and then smiled, cocky and self-assured. “I wasn’t kidding about that burger, by the way,” he said.

“What?” Bruce asked.

Hal held out a hand, palm up. “You wanna blow this popsicle shop, Spooks?” he asked, eyes glinting mischievously.

“Popsicle stand,” Bruce corrected, irritated.

“Whatever, Bruce Wayne,” Hal said, rolling his eyes.

There was a beat and Bruce could hear the presenters bantering with each other. It was nearly time for them to introduce him.

Bruce had responsibilities.

He had to give this speech and thank the team for their hard work. It was their accomplishment and the least Bruce could do was show up to thank them publicly.

He couldn’t just leave and galivant around like Hal seemed to think he could.

Hal arched an eyebrow at Bruce questioningly, hand still out. His eyes were alight with amusement, the same cocky self-assuredness that got on Bruce’s nerves.

Only now it seemed less annoying.

“Offer’s expiring,” Hal sang, eyes darting to the stage and back.

Bruce took his hand.

#batlantern #hal jordan #bruce wayne #halbruce

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astarlightmonbebe · 3 years

Text

the devil judge ep. 4: thoughts

i know i already wrote like five paragraphs of thoughts yesterday. well it turns out i had some more, though this post mostly focuses on what we learned in episode four, as well as other questions, and some analysis.

yohan and the fire.

the number one question we’re (the viewers) left with at the end of the episode is how much of the story yohan tells gaon is true. considering what we know, i would say most of it is, but likely there are some crucial parts are different. now, this isn’t only based on yohan’s cryptic, ‘i knew it, people like stories like this.’

here’s what we know about the fire, and about yohan:

1) in episode one, at the ending when yohan looks at gaon, he sees a fire, and remembers seeing his brother looking at him. he also remembers touching his brother’s face, with what looks like a teddy bear in his hand - which i’m pretty sure we see elijah holding in the episode four fire. since this is introduced first, in episode one, and is obviously a true flashback, i am assuming that this actually happened. however, in yohan’s events, we don’t actually see this scene. of course, it might just have been omitted between yohan crying and then him leaving the church, but it’s certainly interesting, especially because parts we see in flashback usually make an appearance when the full memory is revealed. also note that the scene of his brother looking at him happened after the fire was actually put out, in the blue lighting, when he should have already been dead - of course, it could have just been what yohan saw when he looked at gaon, or it could have actually happened.

2) the firefighter. in episode two, i think, we see yohan looking at homeless people and checking their wrists. his motive is confirmed in episode four, when he finally finds the firefighter who stole isaac’s watch. however, the firefighter is terrified enough of yohan that he has a panic attack of sorts when he sees him and then flees, eventually accumulating in his suicide. now, this reaction seems out of proportion compared to what we saw in yohan’s flashback. yes, the firefighter is guilty of stealing from a dead person, but there’s really no reason for him to be that scared of yohan. he could have just given the watch back and run away, but he fled as if terrified for his life instead. this insinuates that the firefighter had a negative experience with yohan during the church fire. also i’m 99% sure that the watch yohan takes back is the same one he gave to gaon which is interesting for many reasons.

3) elijah herself seems to hate yohan. now, this could be because she hates him for leaving her parents there and rescuing her instead of trying to save them, but apparently she wants him dead, which is a little concerning, especially since they are uncle and niece and live together. her reaction is strange towards someone who supposedly saved her life, and it doesn’t just seem to be because she wishes she hadn’t survived, etc.

4) yohan’s line at the end itself. this line clearly indicates that he told his story for the purpose of manipulating gaon. if the story itself is more sinister, it makes sense for him to share a version that would make gaon clearly empathize with him.

my conclusion based on all of this is that the events likely happened in the order, but that yohan’s position in all of this might have differed a bit, and not been as heroic as initially described. yohan genuinely hates the people in power, believes in the cruelty of the world, and has a reason to. however, he also benefits immensely from making the events more sympathetic towards him, which makes it hard for us, as viewers, to completely trust him. all i can say is that i hope he’s not lying entirely, because if he lied with the purpose of manipulating gaon and steering him away from the actual truth, by telling a story he knew would make gaon feel strongly about due to his own trauma and backstory, then that’s just a disaster in the making.

gaon as isaac’s lookalike.

this episode clearly established the story of kang isaac, who gaon shares a remarkable similarity to. there’s a possibility that he is isaac’s son, but that feels like it wouldn’t fit. gaon looks like he’s in his mid to late twenties. yohan is probably somewhere in his thirties, but it’s hard to tell with men that look like that lol. there’s at least a ten year age gap between them in my opinion. elijah is probably in her mid teens, given it has been ten years since the fire and she was a young child then. still, the ages don’t exactly match up, and there’s no scenario for how that could have occured, so why does he look exactly like isaac?

there’s also the fact that no one else has noted his resemblance to isaac. i can understand why the other rich people didn’t, but jung sunah spoke directly to gaon about isaac, but didn’t seem to note any similarity. now, it has been ten years since his death, and i think if people aren’t looking for similarity they won’t see it, especially since glasses change a person’s face, but the jarring similarity should have at least turned some heads.

yohan is seen to give gaon isaac’s watch. this is symbolic for many reasons. one of them, like yohan said, is because he’s syncing gaon to yohan’s time, another way of demonstrating how yohan is introducing gaon into his world, bringing an outsider in. but the fact that he gave gaon a watch that belonged to his dead brother who looks exactly like gaon says something else. almost as if gaon is transforming into isaac, or something weird like that. it was just weird, period, and yohan obviously made it a deliberate choice.

gaon and yohan in general.

i already talked about them quite a bit, and a lot of other people have as well, but this episode really served. first there was the white vs. black, especially when introducing gaon to the corrupt world of the rich. the white coat initially protects gaon in a way, but he takes it off when meeting with the actual rich people, as if his kind morality is not allowed there, further demonstrated by yohan bodily throwing him out of his chair when he tried to speak up. although jinjoo also went with yohan to a social event, gaon is invited to the intimate gathering of the top tier organizations, given a seat at the table, with yohan basically wanting him to see things as they are at the moment, making him aware of what yohan himself knows.

there was also the scene in the car, when yohan jerks the wheel. i think this scene was super interesting because it clearly demonstrates how yohan is just. not really that sane. which isn’t exactly what i mean, but i don’t know how else to describe it, because yohan isn’t exactly mentally unstable, though he certainly seems to be. instead, the yohan of today is just a mirror of the yohan who the priest described as the devil. he thrives off chaos. yes, his actions as a child were inventive and clever, but it also demonstrates how yohan can and will exploit other people for no other reason than enjoyment. the live court gives him the opportunity to do this to the whole world. he has a flair for dramatics, he’s the gamemaster, carefully orchestrating everything and enjoying the results for his benefit. not only is he making himself popular, but he’s turning himself into a godlike idol, which is honestly blasphemous considering the fact that he’s a judge, but it makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that he’s been called the devil, the judge robes look like a priest’s robes instead, he has the symbol of the cross on his back (scar), etc...it all adds up, and the religious imagery is frankly insane. one wonders if he’ll end up a martyr, or cast into fiery pits.

in cast interviews, or the clips that i’ve seen, gaon’s character has been referred to as an angel of sorts, a ray of hope. this is obviously in stark contrast to yohan, who is darkness, who is gray morality. gaon believes in the idea of justice taught in school, which i think makes sense when you consider the fact that his childhood was likely extremely unfair: living in poverty, parents killing themselves because of debt. he believes in lawful justice almost as if he has to, to have a chance to change things. he doesn’t understand what yohan is trying to make him understand: that lawful justice will never apply to the rich, that fairness doesn’t matter to million and billionaires, because they can change the law however they please the suit their benefits. it’s funny because that is what yohan is proving with the public, that the rich can be brought to justice. i’m really interested to see how their views will change when they get to know each other better and/or team up. there’s a lot of potential there (yes i’ve said this like five times. it’s all i think about right now.).

jung sunah.

i actually don’t have much more to say on that character, but as she’s revealed to be the actual head of the social responsibility foundation, we’re left wondering if mr. seo is just a figurehead, or if she just gained power by controlling him. idk if this makes sense - is she in charge charge of everything, or just in charge of mr. seo? i think next episode will more clearly demonstrate this.

the public, the ethics of live court shows, etc.

this episode was by far the most concerning one when it came to the live court show. whereas their first case was something that was clearly evil and neatly tied up, youngmin’s case was a brutal display of the power of the public and what it means when someone has the power to manipulate the public. youngmin definitely deserved to be punished. i think it’s actually super funny how his argument was that they didn’t have the right to judge him, when he did exactly that to everyone who suffered from his abuse. however, public flagellation seemed absurd. despite most people saying he deserved it, there was also the vibe that most people didn’t believe it would actually be shown. however, when it was, you could see that most of the public was deeply unsettled by this. yohan’s cult was also demonstrated in this scene, from the people cheering.

was youngmin’s punishment justice? maybe, in a way. i don’t think there really was a punishment that would be right for him. flogging would scare him, but it also ignites his anger. in prison he might live a better life than most, but he would also be kept away from people he could hurt, which is kind of the purpose of prisons.

the flogging felt very dystopian, but i think it also showed the danger of the live court show perfectly. not only did it incite people and their bloodthirst at being offered a sort of justice, but it also showed how people feel when confronted with a decision they chose. over 95% of people chose for that punishment to be carried out, but few appeared to actually enjoy seeing it carried out. it’s a lot easier to click a button and feel as if you don’t matter in the large scheme of things than it is to see what happened as a result of you and many other people choosing to do something. it showed the power of the public, or more exactly, how yohan was able to manipulate the public into torturing cha kyunghee and ripping her family apart slowly.

at the end of the day, i doubt few (of the viewers, at least, though i don’t really know) were actually satisfied or happy by youngmin’s punishment. it might have been satisfying to see his court breakdown, but when it comes down to it, it’s just more human suffering.

it also begs the question of if yohan will ever be put on trial. could that even happen? it seems an almost inevitable conclusion to his trajectory right now - when you fight corruption with corruption, the only thing left when the corruption is gone is your corrupted self - but i think right now he’s also building the public as a way to protect himself, which has proved right so far. it’s interesting to wonder if the public will ever turn on him, and what will happen if public opinion shifts.

#the devil judge #tvn the devil judge #episode four #kdrama #i mean the viki translation for the ending line is wildly different from the dramanice trans #it says 'indeed people put on a show by saying things like that'#which is a little concerning for me. but yk #i'm not here to debate the prison system btw i don't have the energy for that #anyways many thoughts #i think this is all #it's mostly just me having thoughts again #bsjajs did i even say anything new WHO KNOWS

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itsmeevie01 · 4 years

Text

A Moment in Time- Ch 3

Whew! almost 3000 words later, here we are!

After extracting herself from her grandmother’s hug, she giggled and turned to make sure her parents were ok with her leaving the counter. After getting the approving nod from her mother who moved to fill her spot, Marinette skipped around to guide her Nona upstairs. The elderly woman laughed before tugging on her granddaughter’s arm to stop the over excited teen. “before we go and talk, my Fairy, I want you to meet someone. He was just going to put the up-” the bell rang again as Gina spoke, and when the duo looked over, Marinette froze. The smile that had been floating on her face sliding off in shock as a face came into view she hadn’t seen in 11 years.

“Jason?”

The room seemed to freeze at Marinette’s question, the crack in her voice pulling her parent’s attention. The man entering the building zeroed in on her, his eyes widening as he looked to where his name had been called. “Marinette.” He breathed her name before striding towards the small girl and pulling her into a tight hug. The teen clung to him in return, shaking as she was enveloped in her older brother’s arms for the first time in years.

“Are- Are you. This isn’t.”

“No, Mari, this isn’t a dream. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” A sob crawled its way up the teen’s throat as she buried her face in her brother’s shirt. From somewhere outside of their little world, the girl could her someone calling her name. Someone was trying to get her attention. Jason poked her in the side, obviously concerned. “do you want to answer them or should I?” when she looked up at him confused, her older brother sighed before smiling down at her. “I’ll take care of it.”

When Marinette finally started to tune back into the world around her, they were upstairs. When she looked around, she realized that it wasn’t late afternoon anymore, but it was mid-evening. The lights outside the window glowed in the darkness, and a light rain falling. Shaking her head, Marinette forced herself to focus on what was going on in the small sitting room of the apartment. Jason was still next to her, and Gina was perched on the side of the chair opposite them. Her parents were sitting on the couch, looking at her in concern. “I…. what did I miss?” Her father’s laugh made the embarrassed teen look up.

“Oh, little flower.” The fondness in his voice led to Marinette looking up. He made a face at hat that she returned, before the two started to laugh. Her mother elbowed him, before smiling at her.

“Welcome back, dear. Don’t worry, there weren’t too many stories making their rounds.” The girl flushed before turning back to her brother.

“what did you- “

“Don’t worry, Mari. I didn’t tell them any of the good stories. I just filled them in. It’s not every day that a strange guy comes in and starts hugging their kid.” She scowled at him before nodding.

“ok.”

“Marinette, why didn’t you ever tell us about Jason? If we had known…” The siblings cringed.

“I… um.”

“She got caught. At the time Marinette didn’t know where I was because I was trying to get her out without the police or social workers figuring it out.” Tom froze, confusion obvious on his face.

“what do you mean, Caught?” Jason glanced at his sister, surprised.

“you didn’t tell them?” the teen shrugged.

“I didn’t think that it was important once I got here. Jason, you know what it was like. Why would I want to relive it once I was away? It…it was like a fairy tale. Well,” here the girl flushed. “Once I stopped trying to run away and board a plane. Something about that made them kinda frustrated.” Her older brother threw his head back and laughed.

“only you Mari. Only you would try to sneak on a transatlantic flight.” He studied her. “how far did you get?” the girl smiled devilishly. “they were taxiing for takeoff before they realized that there was something wrong.” He snorted before holding his hand out for a high-five.

“nice.” The Dupain-Cheng couple gaped at the duo in shock while Gina laughed.

“you- you. Why is that. She could have been hurt!” Jason raised an eyebrow at that.

“Mr. Dupain, have you ever seen Mari in action? If she was going to get hurt, she would have gotten off or taken care of the threat.”

“I-she CAN?” the girl laughed.

“Papa, you have to remember how tame Paris is compared to Gotham. I don’t have the need for many of the skills I picked up while I was a kid. Plus,” here the girl sent her brother a side eye glare. “I felt safe here. And I kept an eye on Jason. I have an ongoing hack of the GCPD.” Jason froze before whipping around to gape at her.

“YOU WHAT.” The look of shock on her face made the girl giggle.

“I figured that if you were getting into trouble I would be able to see what was going on better that way. Of course, there is that other hacker…they keep pushing me out. But its fine. Whoever Oracle is, they are always a step behind.” Jason gapped at her.

“Mari. You’re out hacking Oracle? She-Uh THEY are legendary! It’s said that she helps the Bats!” The teen sniggered at his response.

“then they need a new hacker. I’ve been out hacking them since I was 8. And if you ever meet them, you are more than welcome to tell them that. It’s a shame, really.” Jason stared at her, shocked.

“oh Mari. PLEASE don’t pick a fight with the Bats again. Or, you know, their INTERNATIONALLY FAMOUS hacker.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“wanna bet? I can win a war with them by the end of the week. And the Bats are just wimps. We’ve been over this.” Gina Dupain chose this moment to interrupt her granddaughter.

“Marinetta, what does Jason mean start a fight with Batman again?” The teen started ton invent new shades of red.

“I…may have started loudly calling Robin names and when he came to stop me I beat him in a fight. With Jason’s help, of course.” The older woman studied Jason with a knowing look that confused Marinette before she shelved the conversation for another time.

Through the din of the conversation that the five had fallen into as Jason and Marinette caught up and Gina explained how she knew Jason, cut the dinner timer. Sabine smiled and she rose to gather the plates needed for the group. As she did so, she motioned Marinette to join her. Once the two were standing over the oven as Sabine pulled out the chicken and Marinette served the rice and green beans to go with, the mother paused and looked at her daughter in worry. “Marinette, why didn’t you tell us about your brother? We could have tried to bring him over-” she was cut off by the noirette shaking her head.

“no, mama. Jason was the one to teach me to avoid CPS and the GCPD. Everything I knew? He knew and was able to do better. I was caught because I was trying to help another kid who didn’t know what they were doing and took me down with them. The only reason he got caught at all is probably because he did something incredibly stupid and daring.” The Chinese woman nodded before pulling her daughter into a hug.

“well I’m glad that we got you, even if its because of another person’s mistakes. You are the greatest blessing in your father’s and my life.” The girl ducked her head as she hugged her mother in return.

“I love you too, mama.”

At dinner, Gina regaled them with stories of her adventures with Jason. When Tom expressed his surprise at some of the things Jason had tagged along on the Gotamite laughed.

“you do know the only reason Bruce got me was because I was caught stealing the tires off the Batmobile, right?” Marinette choked, snapping to lock eyes with her mother.

“I told you he did something stupid.” The woman laughed in agreement, while Tom studied the young man in front of him.

“who did you say adopted you? A Bruce?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Bruce Wayne. Gotham’s resident billionaire, and the collector of lost children.” Marinette narrowed her eyes.

“This wouldn’t be the same Bruce Wayne that the entirety of the media has decided I’m either dating the son of or am the newest child of, would it?” Jason laughed.

“yup defiantly the same Bruce. To be fair, he’s been on a quiet kick with the adopting thing. We think he’s planning something. And, in my defense, the only reason I knew what was going on was Tim can into my apartment simmering in anger that the press was stalking him again.” He paused, “oh and I went to pick up one of the tabloids so that I could immortalize his shame and was met with your face.” Here he turned to Marinette. “if they hadn’t run that story, I may never have seen you again.” The watery smile that he was met with made him smile.

“let go back to the Batmobile for a moment. What were you going to do, just leave a note after taking the tires? Write a quick thanks and leave?” Sabine’s humor quickly lightened the atmosphere as everyone laughed.

“no, actually. I was going to leave a red chrysanthemum.” Jason’s response made Marinette break into giggles.

“you were going to leave my sign? Jason!” the rest of the table looked around, clearly lost. Taking pity on them, Marinette went on to explain. “the red chrysanthemum is my favorite flower. Its also one that we were able to get ahold of easily in Gotham. Jason always called me his Chrysanthemum because it means hope. He called my Chrys when we were with other kids so that I was harder to track. He literally called me his hope for years. Its also why,” here she looked her grandmother dead in the eye, “they are the symbol for my brand.” The older woman tossed her head back in a laugh.

“only you, Marinetta. Only you.

After dinner and Gina and Jason had reluctantly left for the night, the Dupain-Cheng family sat and talked together a while more before separating to move towards bed. Afterall, they did have a bakery to open in the morning. When Marinette was sure that her parents were asleep, she opened her chaise. There, buried under piles of blankets and spare fabric and next to one of her specialized embroidery machines that had been packed away to save space, was a black rectangular box with a red chrysanthemum carved into it. Breathing a sigh of relief, the teen pulled out the box and settled her hand on top of it, letting her magic seep into the wood. A moment later, the box was expanding, opening, and giving her access to the box of the Miraculous of the Chinese Zodiac. Plagg zipped to join her as she studied the jewels in front of her before settling her hand on the Bee Miraculous that she had been puzzling over for weeks. The Kwamii looked at her before he finally sighed. “kid you know what you need to do. As much as we don’t like it, the girl is a good match for Pollen. Plus, you and the Bug need a rest. Without the Bee you know that the rest of your team won’t fall into place.” She smiled at the Kwamii before looking down again.

“I know Plagg, but…what if she says no? Lady Tyche and I can only do so much, and I don’t want to open our group to someone who is going to pull an Alya. I spent months training her with Tyche before we even let her come to an attack, and she still had the audacity to believe Lila. I don’t want to bring someone else into the fold and have them flake.” The miniature cat god nodded at his chosen as she drifted for a moment, thinking about days gone by. “ok Plagg, Let’s Make Mischief!” as her transformation fell over her, Apate stretched, preparing to wander into the night. Her luminous blue eyes, catlike and glowing in the night, narrowed as she made the jump, her black boots landing on the balcony. The black suit resembled a black track jacket, with the bottom half resembling close cropped cargo pants. Her boots, while silent, had a heel, giving the petit girl a very well needed few inches. Her black hair, while long and free flowing in daily life, was now held back in a French braid. The gauntlets on her forearms glinted silver in the moonlight, and the bracers on her shins reflected the light from the streets below. Apate’s hands flexed, the reinforced gloves flashing as her claws extended. A small smile crawled over the Vigilante’s face as she scanned the ridgeline of the building across from her before she detached her baton and let herself fly away from the small bakery.

When she landed at the Tower, the cat-like Vigilante settled herself on one of the beams looking out over the night. Her eyes focused on a figure in the distance and followed it as it made it’s way closer. When the figure landed next to her, Apate grinned up at Lady Tyche. The Blonde smiled down at her more violent companion. Her braided ponytail shifted in the wind, and the dark mask made the smaller girl roll her eyes. After almost four years, the two were pretty good at reading each other. As Lady Tyche settled next to Apate, the red hero smiled. Her garnet suit shifted in the moonlight. The black reinforced areas along her shins and arms seeming to disappear into the night to the naked eye. The older miraculous wielder had been apprehensive to let Apate redesign her suit from the bight red that had black spots everywhere. Apparently, it was a Tikki staple. When Apate had shown Tyche the simple garnet suit with the black shading on her sides, and the reinforcement on her arms, the hero had changed her tune. That had been three years ago, and since then the girls had grown closer. They had realized somewhere down the line that they must be in the same grade because they had chosen names that mirrored the Greek goddesses they had been learning about. When Apate had found out the box was based off the Chinese zodiac, she had laughed to herself. By then, it had been too late to change her name to honor the origin of the box.

That evening, the two had gotten together to once again debate the idea of adding a certain Bee to their ranks. This had been a topic for almost a year and the duo were apprehensive at the thought of adding an unknown this far into their battle.

“What did Tikki say?” When Apate broke their silence, Tyche sent her a small smile. They both knew that Apate was the more anxious of the duo. There was a reason she worked better in the shadows. The idea of adding the Bee, well it was keeping her up at night.

“She was all for it. After she heard what Wayzz had said, she agreed with him. adding another holder and setting up our team is the right move.” The girls exchanged looks. Apate took a deep breath before nodding.

“Plagg and I have been talking. With our final year in Lycée ending in eight months, he agreed that we need to try ad wrap this up.” Tyche snorted.

“I don’t know about you, but I am ready to leave Paris. If I can leave for University, it would be amazing.” Apate nodded in agreement.

“does that mean we should go visit Chloé?” Tyche hesitated.

“Actually, I was thinking. I know that we have been careful, for years now, but we both know that we’re getting closer to our identities. Would, would it be ok if we-” understanding settled on Apate’s face. She thought for a moment before nodding.

“well, there isn’t a Guardian to tell us no anymore. Plus, it might be good for us.” Both girls laughed as they stood. “how about this. I have to go get the Bee anyways, so come with me, and we can do the reveal nearby. That way we can be sure its in a secluded place.” Tyche nodded as she readied her yoyo.

“which way, Kit-Cat?” Apate laughed and jumped off the tower, letting herself start the trek back to the quaint Bakery that currently was housing miniature gods.

OK! so, Apate is the greek goddess of Decit, Tyche is the greek goddess of luck. i wanted unique names. thats all.

moving on, i’m not sure if anyone had noticed or not, but i think i’m allergic to ahving Adrien as Chat Noir. i’m debating adding him in as another Miraculous but we will see. i can’t really think of one i like for him.

yes! chrystantamums are going to play a big part in this. im goign to lear a little bit of this up too. Marinette was adoopted by the Dupain-Chengs when she was about 5. she is Jason’s half sister. she is incredably bright and i have a thing for crazy smart Mari so she skipped 2 grades and is a year away from university. she does not know Jason died yet. the time where Mari was kinda out of it, i’m useing as a plot device so that i can skip stuff. basically, Jason explains that Mari is is his little half sister and that they were out on the streets all of her early life before CPS picked her up. they share a father, not a mother. Jason is crazy protective of her.

anywhoooooo have a goodone yall, and ill see you soon wiht another chapter, probably.

tag list- @moonlitceleste @redscarlet95 @ultimatetornshipper @mochegato @liquid-luck-00 @maskedpainter @trippingovermyfeet @nathleigh @m0chick0furan

#a moment in time fic #maribat #timari #sibling!jasonette #ml x dc #mlb #miraculous ladybug #My writing #oops again #this was a lot #and a brain dump #i sorry

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