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house-of-slayterr · 2 years

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I Need a Vacation Pt. 3: Into the Wolves Den

Tag List: @vechkinfan @dickspaghettii @yor72 @thelostboyswife @panickinanakin1 @slashers-and-witchcraft

Stefan's POV:

It had been a while since we saw Y/N. I was used to her breaking off from the group for "Alone time" but normally she would have texted me by now. I let out a heavy sigh, which Damon rolled his eyes at.

"Don't worry brother, our little pet can't have gone too far."

Elana slapped him in the back of the head for that one.

"Don't the werewolf jokes ever get old for you Damon?" Mathew asked.

Always the one to come to a pretty girl's rescues. Matt just had to be the hero in everything he did. I looked up to the sky to see the moon looking very full. Everyone else eyes followed.

"Right, I forgot we extended the trip, we were supposed to go hoe before the full moon." Caroline said more to herself than anyone else.

"Shit! How did I forget about that?" Tyler cursed himself.

"Because you're a selfish bastard who thinks the world revolves around you." Carline snipped.

Bonnie nodded her head at the statement.

"Yeah, remember that time you were dating Viki and she got turned and killed because you weren't there for her."

"Bonnie!" Jeremy scolded.

"Sorry Matt, I know you miss your sister."

"No, you're right Bon, it's fine. How about I try to call her and see if she picks up?" Matt suggested.

"I've already called her six times." I explained. "Last few text messages are still on delivered."

"Thats not reassuring." Elena said.

"Great now we have to go on a wild wolf chase. I swear to god Tyler, if your sister bites me, I will kill her."

"You won't lay a fucking hand on her Damon, or I'll bite you too. What the fuck is your problem?"

I watched as Tyler got up in Damons's face. We wouldn't get anywhere if these two were fighting.

"Boys!" I spoke.

Tyler finally backed up. Everyone turned to me, I was usually the one to come up with most of our plans.

"Let's split up in teams of two, we can cover more ground that way. Everyone keep your phones on, call the second you find her ok. And be careful, we know her temper is different in her wolf form. She out there alone and probably scared right now."

Nobody seemed to disagree with the plan of action. We all picked a direction to head off in. Jeremey stayed with Bonnie, they could both handle themselves, but neither of them had vampire speed. It wouldn't be as easy for them to cover ground quickly.

"We'll find her Tyler, I promise." Bonnie reassured him.

I stayed where I was by the entrance of the board walk for a moment. Maybe she hadn't turned yet, and I could spot her in the crowed. I listened for the sound of her voice, or the distinct pattern of her heartbeat. But it was no use, she was nowhere to be found.

I looked up, the moon was just starting to brim the sky. It sent shivers down my spine, knowing my best friend was out there right now, feeling one of the most intense pains known to man. I remember when I first turned Damon, for a while he was so mad at me. He thought we were cursed; I grew to think that way too. But the second we found out about werewolves; I knew we weren't the unlucky ones.

They live and die the same way as humans. Yes, they are faster, and stronger, and can heal themselves a little better, but they are still mostly human. They pass it on to their children, who can go their whole live without experiencing the curse. But the second you kill, its all over. You can never go back to the way you were before, because killing changes you. I know it changed me.

Tyler was lucky Klaus picked him to be one of his hybrids. He only had to experience the horror of turning against your will a few times. He's the whole reason his sisters curse got triggered in the first place. She killed someone trying to protect him. He couldn't even convince Klaus to turn her, but I suppose I failed in that field too. I neglected her when my humanity was off, and I'll never forgive myself for that.

I cringed as I thought of her bones breaking over and over again. Tyler explained to Caroline once that the heat was the worst part. Your body feels so hot, it's almost like you're burning alive. We should have been more careful planning this vacation. She wouldn't never forgive herself if she ended up hurting someone here. That's always been my Favorite thing about her. Despite her fierce attitude, she could never bring herself to hurt someone who didn't deserve it. Of course, she's gotten into fight defending Jeremy and Caroline, and even her own Brother. But they weren't the ones who had to calm her down after, assure her that it was worth it, and that she helped.

They're very distinct smell of weed hit my nose. We were in California after all, so it wasn't an odd scent to be smelling. But it was accompanied by the smell of hair spray and motor oil. It's what Y/N smelled like that first day she went off on her own, and she came back wearing that oversized leather jacket. She'd just said a kind stranger gifted it to her because she was cold. She was never a good liar, which was another thing I adored about her. She was so blushy and flustered when she came back that night, so I figured I wouldn't tease her about whatever she had gotten herself into. I was her best friend, shed tell me eventually. But if she told Caroline, everybody would know.

The scent got steadily stronger, as if it was coming right toward me. I turned around to see a man with long blonde, curly hair. He wore a patched jacket and some leather jeans. He looked frantic, like he'd just been running. His eyes locked with mine quickly, and I could see his pupils dilate. I was exactly what he was looking for. I furrowed my bro. Before I could ask what, he wanted, I was dragged into an ally somewhere.

"Who are you?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No time, she needs your help!"

"Who needs my help."

He had begun to pace back and forth nervously. He chewed on the edge of his thumb, hard enough to draw blood. But he didn't seem phased in the slightest. He seemed to have zoned out, the weed probably getting to his brain.

"Hello?"

"You have her same necklace." He pointed to the locket I wore around.

Similar to my day light ring, I never took it off. Now of course I couldn't take my ring off or I would literally burn in the sun, but if I ever lost this, Y/N would actually kill me. I'd only ever lost it once during an argument with Damon, and she was devastated. But the second she figure out who took it, she was livid. I had to stop her from trying to roll Damon up in our living room rug and setting it on fire. She instead settled for hiding behind the bar and using a squirt gun to pray him with vervain water. In hindsight, it was really funny. That was the moment I truly knew she was my person, and I never wanted to live my life without her again. She insanely brave and gallantly stupid and loved with everything she had.

"She said we need her brother." The guy finsihed.

"Slow down." I placed my hands on his Sholders, stopping his pacing.

I half expected him to pull back, or even try to hit me, but he just looked up at me like a lost puppy.

"What is your name?"

"Marko." "Ok Marko, where is she?"

"The cave."

I frowned.

"The cave?"

"Yeah, where we live. We were hanging out and then she got really sick all of a sudden. The others sent me to find someone because I'm the best tracker. I found you, didn't I?"

I couldn't tell he hadn't been a vampire nearly as long as I had. I knew there were different types of vampires int eh world., the witches never made anything simple. He wore a lot of Jewlery, but none of it was Lapis Lazuli, meaning he couldn't go int he sunlight. So that's why Y/N only split from the group in the evenings, we just thought her social battery was running short. I mean spending a whole day with Caroline can do that to a person. Of course, she managed to find the vampires in this town. I took a deep breathe, and the young vampire copied me.

"Yes, and I'm glad you did. What did she tell you?" I asked.

"No time, we have to find her brother."

I nodded, pulling out my phone and sending a message int eh group chat.

"He's on his way over here right now, now can you tell me a bit more?"

"She told us she was a werewolf, but that it was nothing to worry about. Max always told us werewolves were dangerous, so David thought maybe she was trying to hurt us."

"She wouldn't do that." "I know!" he exclaimed. "And that's what I told David. He always tells us to trust our gut, and then he never listens. But anyway, we were hanging out at the edge of the cave, looking out on the town, when she suddenly doubled over in pain. We tried to ask what was wrong, but she was in too much pain. I started panicking and I didn't know what to do. So, they made me leave. I know I had to find you, but I feel bad for leaving her like that."

He seemed to really care about her, so I decided to trust him. it wasn't uncommon for other vampires to set a trap for us to try to get us killed for one reason or another. But this didn't feel like that. He was being sincere.

"You left so you could help her Marko, ok? You did a good job." I assured him. "But when we get there, you and your friend are going to have to leave-" "What no! I'm not leaving her again!"

"She can seriously hurt you."

"But she wouldn't."

"Look Marko, wolves aren't exactly themselves in their wolf form. The first time her brother turned, he almost killed his girlfriend. And he managed to kill someone in our friend group. And it wasn't pretty. Werewolves were designed the sole purpose of killing our kind. Thier blood lust takes over and they will attack without a second thought. And when you get bit, it is a slow and painful death, it could take several days. So, do you really want to risk that?"

His eyes widened, before narrowing at me.

"I don't believe you."

I scoffed.

"Trust me, if she finds out one of you got hurt because of her, she will be besides herself. It's obvious you care about her, which means she cares about you too. I just don't want to see anyone get hurt-"

My sentence was cut off by the others running up to find us.

"Where is she?" Tyler demanded.

Marko's eyes scanned over the group, like he was searching for a threat. Everyone looked a little on edge, being in the presence of a new Vampire. Damon glared at Marko, sizing him up.

"She's up at the cave, we don't have much time."

"Why don't you guys go back to the hotel, Tyler and I will bring her back." "No way!" Caroline protested.

"I agree with Care." Jermey chimed in.

"Guys, we don't have time for this right now. I appreciate you want to help, but the less people in her path, the less people to get hurt."

"She won't attack a human Sef, you know that. And I can try to contain her with my magic." Bonnie said.

"Fine, Bonnie, you can come, but everyone else go back to the hotel." "Don't have to ask me twice." Damon said.

Matt looked up at me despratly.

"Keep your phones on, we'll update the second she's safe."

"How do we get there?" Bonnie asked.

"Hold on tight." Marko said.

He scooped up Tyler into his arms and flew off. That was something I wasn't aware some vampires could do. I starred for a second before remembering how urgent this was. I carefully picked up Bonnie and sped off after his scent. I gently set her down when we approached out destination. I knew it wasn't pleasant traveling by vampire, so I gently rubbed her back to make sure she wouldn't throw up. Tyler was grubbing about Marko getting his hands off of him.

We could hear her screams, which meant she was still mostly human right now. It broke my heart to hear how violent they were. I heard from Caroline that it was awful the first time she'd watched Tyler turn. But the rest of us had never really witnessed it. Y/N was a private person, and we respected that. We rushed in to where she was, laying oner her side, surrounded by three other boys.

The Burnette was calming stroking her hair, trying to sooth her. I was surprised she was letting anyone touch her right now. Once I'd trying to help her through her sever period cramps, and she almost bit my hand off for touching her. And that was before her werewolf gene was triggered. Bonnie scrunched up her face turning into my chest. She hated seeing Y/N like this. The other two boys were standing at her side, the platinum blonde trying to calm the other. The platinum blonde met Marko's eyes and then mine.

"Fix her!" he said harshley.

I was a little taken aback, but it was understandable. They weren't used to werewolves. Vampire were pretty lucky if they could go their wolves' lives without encountering one. She cracked her eyes open at the sound of David's words. She struggled to turn and look at us.

"Stefan?" She said softly.

If we weren't vampire, none of us would have heard it. Then her eyes moved to her brother.

"Ty?"

He quickly knelt down besides her.

"Hey, I'm right here ok. I'm not going anywhere." "Ty, it hurts. I don't want to do this anymore. I can't-" A scream tore through her throat as she threw her head back on the hard floor. They would certainly leave a bruise in the morning.

"I know, I know it hurts ok. But Klaus isn't even in the state right now, there not much I can do. I promise I'll convince him to turn you the second we get home."

"Tyler please-"

My heart ached in that moment, I wasn't used to seeing her so small and timid. Of course, she's cried in front of me before, but this was different, she was raw, vulnerable.

"Help her man!" the blonde with the crazy hair exclaimed.

"We need to get her tied up." Tyler said.

"What? You're not tying her up!" The other blonde commanded.

"It's for everyone's safety. She can't hurt anyone if she's tied up."

I watched as her eyes drifted to the brunette, she nodded her head ever so slightly, reassuring him.

"David, why don't you go with Stefan here and get some ropes. Paul, she's going to need snacks when she's back to normal. So why don't you go get her some comfort things, yeah?"

"But-" "Paulie, she's not going anywhere ok. We're not leaving her. But your job is super important, so you think we can trust you to not get distracted?"

He gave an eager nod.

I nodded my head toward the entrance of the cave, and the other vampire begrudged followed.

Y/N POV:

Everything was burning. Each drop of sweat that fell from my forehead felt like boiling water on my skin. I felt a cool hand press to my forehead, I didn't even realize I closed my eyes. I opened them to see Dwayne's starring down at mine. Even now he looked so beautiful, I could have sworn I was dead. It felt like I was dying at least. I've only had a handful of full moons, you'd expect to get used to the pain, but it seemed to only get worse.

I seethed out a hiss, clenching my jaw. I heard a small jangle for a second, then Dwayne was speaking.

"Here, bite down on this, I'm afraid you might break your teeth."

He brushed a hair out of my eye before placing the belt in my mouth.

"I'm sorry I'm gross right now, you guys weren't meant to see this. I can't- I can't believe I forgot about the full moon. I'm so stupid-"

He cut me off with a kiss, pulling me into him. I must admit, it was a great distraction. But now my body was burning up even more. I growled a little when he pulled away.

"Easy tiger, you're going to make it through this ok. Nobodies leaving you tonight."

"But what if I-" "You won't hurt us; we're not going to let that happen. You're safe her, and there's nowhere else in the world I'd want to be right now."

I couldn't feel tears brimming in my eyes. But the moment was short lived as another surge of pain came. My head was spinning, still slightly dizzy from the kiss. Dwayne pulled me into his strong arms, rocking me back and forth. Marko was keeping his distance, watching from the corner. It's like he was sacred to approach, I guess I couldn't blame him.

They both glanced up when footsteps returned. I heard the distinct jingle of chains. Stefan was the first to speak, David instead preferring to light a cigarette. Stefan threw something to Dwayne, which he caught with ease.

"Wolfs bane, Bonnie apparently always carries this and vervain on her." Stefan answered my question before i had time to speak.

I don't even think I could speak if I tried. My thoughts were all jumbled. Being this close to so many vampires wasn't fucking helping.

"What does it do?" Marko asked.

As Stefan was trying to explain, I snatched the laced water bottle from Dywayne, scotting far away to the other end of the cave. I ripped off the top and downed it. The pain as unimaginable Seering every atom in my body. Why did turning have to take so long when you were a baby wolf?

"What the hell was that?" David asked as I began coughing up some of the solution.

"It's necessary, don't' think I take any joy in seeing her like this."

I suddenly realized my brother was no longer with us. But as if reader my thoughts, Stefan answered my question.

"He's calling Hayley, trying to get to Klaus and beg him to help."

David took a step closer, and I backed up.

"No." My voice barely came out in a whisper. "Stefan."

My best friend was by my side in a matter of seconds.

"You ready?"

I nodded. I hated being tied up; it was humiliating. It made me feel like a literal dog, I mean of course I'm a wolf, but most people don't collar wild animals. It was incredibly dehumanizing. Stupid father and your dumb curse, hope you and uncle mason are rotting in pieces. Stefan was gentle tying me up, and I tried my best not to fight it, as my instincts took over. He was quick to jump back when he was done.

Marko gave me a pitiful look.

"We should get out of here, even with her tied up it's still not safe. She's managed to get out before." Stefan explained.

"We can't" David said firmly.

"I know you guys' care, and I appreciate it-" "No, we actually can't. She won't be back to normal until the sun comes up. But if we go out there, we'll burn to death."

"Right, I forgot about that. Y/N do you trust them?"

"What?" David asked with a scoff.

Stefan just repeated his question, paying no mind to the annoyed vampire.

"With- with my life."

I knew they heard it, no matter how small my voice came out. Stefan nodded, bending down and giving me a kiss on the forehead.

"Get them out." I whimpered in his ear.

He turned his attention to David.

"What if I told you there was a way you could go in the sun?"

"Impossible." David said.

"Yeah, Max would have told us about it, if that was a thing." Marko pipped up.

Dwyne let out a dramatic sigh, looking at me one more time as I curled in on myself.

"I'm choosing to trust you. Don't fuck us over." Dwayne said to Stefan, locking eyes with him.

AN: Ok I promise I'll make a part 4 eventually. But I hope you guys enjoy part three. It was so much fun to write. It warms my heart that so many of you like my writing. Love yall <3

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oneoftheprettynerds · 3 years

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Welcome To The Darkside: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 1 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series

A/N: I just posted a story I know but I’m in love with this idea right now and this is my favourite fic right now. It’s going to be a three or four part fic I think and your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Here is a piece of my heart right here.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, sort of Blood Kink I think, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 1 : Welcome to The Darkside

The gunshots around you frightened you more than anything in your life ever had. The merry, joyful ambience of the carnival was ruined in an instant. Screams around you provoked your panic-stricken form to gather your wits and run or hide. It wasn’t just you caught up in this dreadful situation, there was also someone you’d protect at any cost.

Picking your daughter up and setting her on your hip, you looked around for the way out. Who would have thought that open grounds were hard to get out of? Another wave of terror ran through you when the gunshots audibly neared and the crowd ran in random directions.

You decided to go along the way you recognised the games and shops at. You ran as fast as you could, checking on Grace in between to find her looking curiously all around but still more intent on eating her cotton candy than inspecting. You couldn’t be more thankful for kids' oblivion than at that moment in time.

A bomb explosion up ahead in your path made you halt in your tracks because you knew some of the attackers were scouting there. Turning back wasn’t an option, neither was crying and you were sure you closer to the exit this way. Another blast behind you took away the option of you retracing your path. You weren’t considering it but it gave you little comfort to have your options open.

As the shrieks and screeches grew tenfold, your best bet was to hide, the assaulters had already surrounded the field, the chaos around you informed you. Jumping through innumerable dead bodies, of kids and adults that ached your heart, and dodging bullets while laying low, you went inside a photo booth to hide.

This will not be in vain; you’d protect Grace no matter what.

The curtain to the photo booth provided cover from predatory eyes while the rest of the metal booth was quite safe against bullets you concluded hopefully.

You were just looking for a weapon to prepare for any adversity that might come your way, when the sound of crunching of pebbles made their way to your ears.

Failing to find a weapon in few seconds you opted to attack the intruder yourself when a voice reached your ears, “Mama?”

You puzzled your eyebrows and lowered your defences by just a bit when a toddler stumbled inside the booth, blonde haired and blue eyed. You were definitely not this girl’s mama but you grabbed the kid’s forearm and pulled her inside, shushing her gently and seating her beside Grace on the sitting bench inside. You were thankful Grace entertained her by offering her the pink cloud of sweetness.

You peeked outside but failed to find anyone else in 20 metre radii of you, nobody resembling the wandering kid nor looking for one. You did not know what you would do with another kid in your hands in this dire situation nor was it a wise decision to bring her inside and take her under your wing but you did not have it in you to leave an unsuspecting child, a mere four or three-year-old at that, during a calamity so extreme.

Your maternal instincts governed your thought process, imagining Grace to be in her shoes, all alone and discarded while a possible terrorist attack was happening. The kids’ corpses lying outside gave you no doubt that these children’s fate would be the same if found by the attackers.

A small tug in your dress made you look back and you found the azure eyed kid at your feet, offering you the street food you bought earlier while hugging your leg and observing you. Grace munched in the back silently, still happily eating and unaware.

You kneeled and whispered, “What’s your name, honey?” Maybe the girl understood the urgency, maybe she was just mimicking you but even she murmured in a low voice, “Sarah.”

You nodded, “Sweetie, I need you to sit there quietly and make no sounds, okay? We are playing a staying quiet game.” That was a stupid thing to ask of a kid but you hoped, you really, really hoped she would comply.

Her eyes widened in recognition of something as she eagerly asked, still in a hushed mumble, “Like I does for Dada in meekings?”

“Yes, you smart kiddo. Exactly that.” You replied with what you hoped was a convincing smile and ruffled her hair while nudging her towards her former seat. With kids, you knew a little encouragement went a long way to get them to do things. She whispered an ‘okay Mama’ and went about and sat.

You didn’t get to enjoy her obedience as the thud of pebbles crunching met your ears again. Your breath hitched; your intuition told you that this was not another kid confusing you for its parent.

Your eyes found a discarded piece of metal rod from the booth’s wrecked framework. You grabbed and hoped for the best, to save both the kids at your ability’s mercy.

Steve only saw red. The moment the first shot sounded in the air, he knew whom the assailants were, whom they were coming for. Going out tonight was a bad idea, a really reckless one indeed but when his daughter started bawling seeing the carnival’s lights from the car and wanted to get up and close, he couldn’t say no. He really tried to though, he really did.

It hadn’t been even a year since his wife died, but the father-daughter duo was getting by. He knew his wife took his daughter to the carnival and bought her things, toys and teddies, on every birthday of her own. It was a ritual his wife started, spending her birthday with her little offspring during the daylight and going out for a romantic dinner at the end of the day with her dear spouse. If only things could still be that way, could still stay the same.

When his wife turned out to be an elaborate spy all along, he was baffled. His professional side was, dare he say, impressed by the commitment to character but his personal side was beyond disappointed, disheartened in the worst way because his daughter was his most precious asset in this cruel world and that gift was given by such a treacherous person.

She begged and pled for mercy, to let Sarah have her mother and swore on her life that she quit her espionage journey when she actually fell in love but Steve didn’t trust a single syllable out of her filthy, deceiving mouth, not anymore.

He didn’t kill her though, because Sarah was his first priority no matter what. Her assassination was the work of his rival mob, ‘The Vice Kings’ led by the bastard Rumlow. It was an open invitation for war in the city, for them money came first and useless people had to die. They killed two birds with a single stone, git rid of a useless former member and successfully made a statement.

Then began the still happening rivalry between those Vices and his mob, ‘The Avenging Cartel’. The wound from his wife’s assassination was still fresh, he didn’t miss her as much as he had taken the hit to his pride. There had been a peaceful agreement until the brutal maiming of his spouse and now he was working more than ever, barely able to make time for his princess and that was his only regret, missing her childhood.

And now he felt more futile, his palette of emotions ranging from hues of ire to shades of dread. He couldn’t believe his entourage of trained professionals failed to monitor a two-year-old. He had just stepped aside to take a call, leaving her with his latest driver and three bodyguards. How could he be that clueless to not realise the imposters infiltrating his ranks, standing right there and selling away his location?

As soon as the sound of the first firearm shooting reached his ears, he leapt towards his daughter only to find her missing. His little minx thankfully escaped for one of her little adventures and successfully evaded these cheats, whom he shot right in the middle of the eyes when he glanced at the grenades packing in the coats’ undersides.

His moment of gratitude evaporated in mere seconds as he realised that the Vices now surrounded the entire area, their mission being his daughter’s abduction. If they wanted to kill both of them, they would have already, considering Steve’s distraction gave them quite too many openings. They wanted him to surrender, because mobs worked that way; only when one leader signed off his territories did it become the other party’s possession. If they just cut one head, another would grow in its place, a new leader would succeed the predecessor.

He sent emergency signals to both Barnes and Wilson, the only ones he could trust right now, summoning them with back-ups. The screams of the crowd did not ease him at all, piling on his burden and stress as he prayed for the first time ever, that by some miracle he would reach his daughter first in this field and she would safely be in his arms by the end of the night, not become a victim to what his enemies were planning.

He did have a tracker in her pendant but this realisation hit him later than he’d like to admit, the frustration clawing away his wits. The ground was now quite empty, piles of bodies scattered across the field abruptly where people became victims to the grenades, any person who failed to protect themselves, died. As he was pulling his phone out again, his eyes caught sight a flower bead. The same bead he and his daughter used to make a bracelet a month ago. She wore that everywhere, to day-care, while bathing, to birthdays.

The bracelet was obviously broken now but it was almost like a trail that led to his treasure, like in the Hansel and Gretel’s fairy-tale that Sarah loved. He followed with quiet steps, the beads far apart and some resting under the debris but they sure did lead him somewhere, and when he found the even the pendant in his path, he knew he had only the few beads to rely on.

Some thumps and crashes made him alert, his pistol ready, and when he neared carefully to a distorted metal framework of sorts, his eyes widened.

A young woman had a body in front of her lying on the ground. In a pool of scarlet it rested, still and unmoving while her breathing quickened, her eyes shining with tears that she tried too damn hard to confine to her eyes. He knew how hard the first kill always was, but one grows numb with increase in body count.

Brave women were his type and he would have been turned on by her courage, her hands stained red with whatever weapon she attacked with. Her soft facial features and her curves in the dress she wore were a show stopper for sure, and he would’ve been flirting with her if it was not for the brutal severity of the situation, his daughter missing and in possible danger.

His vigilant senses, courtesy of the epinephrin, picked up two things; the butterfly bead that rested in the door of the booth the woman stood at and the creep shadowing her from behind, ready to attack with a baseball bat he might have found in one of the other game shops.

Steve used his position behind the neighbouring booth to make a bull’s eye shot, the bullet going just an inch above the female’s shoulder and going across the creep’s head. The logo on the corpse’s leather jacket showed Steve he picked the right side to defend.

The sheer suddenness of the move caught the woman off guard as she dropped her weapon and twisted back to find the soulless eyes of her possible attacker staring at her. She quickly armed herself with her attacking rod once again and tried to trace the bullet back from its shooter, her eyes wide and calculating.

Steve decided it was time to interrogate, to find Sarah.

The graze of the bullet above your shoulder alarmed you and you stood dumbfounded only for an instant though. You were sure the bullet was meant for you but the thud of a body behind you, seemingly preparing to attack you proved you wrong.

Calming yourself, you still stood on the ball, because someone killing your attacker didn’t necessarily mean you were safe. With just a pull of the trigger, your fate could very easily be the same. You had to play this smart.

“Lower your weapon. I won’t repeat myself.” A husky voice called out, laced with seriousness which left no room for argument.

You did as he said, knowing that shabby rod was no match against the gun. He stepped out from his hiding position and gave away his location, steps slightly treading towards you. Your hands trembled, heart thumping a bit too loud while blood and sweat coated your frame.

When moonlight lightened his face, you saw his blonde luscious locks, slightly overgrown, a neatly trimmed beard darker than his hair and the cerulean blue eyes that were clear as crystal but shadowed with proficiency.

“Good, now did you see a kid around here? Blonde and blue eyes?”

His question didn’t surprise you, the gun barrel trained on you did. The previous man you had killed, that laid dead ahead of you had asked the same question. You did not know why they were after the toddler nor did you have the time to dwell on it. Time was of the essence now and he was expecting an answer.

The fact that he saved an unsuspecting lady was a plus point, but you also had to consider that he was threatening you all the same. But if that was his kid, it was understood, the resemblance between them was uncanny but that wasn’t enough proof. However, as your flickered to the man you killed, you noticed the logo on his jacket was the same as the one on your possible murderer’s jacket. It still wasn’t enough evidence but you had no choice, the man had a gun and you had two kids relying on you. At least he wasn’t on the bombing side.

“Yes, what is she to you?” You tried to be brave but you were sure he saw right through you.

“You don’t ask the questions here but this one I’ll answer. She is my daughter. Now, where is she?”

“How do I know you’re not lying? I can’t just and her over to you!”

“Her name is Sarah; she is my carbon copy. She is wearing a pink dress with white flowers; pink crocs and her hair is in a ponytail with a white scrunchy. She had two white clips in her hair beside the ponytail. Enough proof?”

No, you could be a creepy paedophile for all I know.

You were still contemplating when he spoke again, “She’s my daughter and I know she’s in that booth beside you. I appreciate you trying to protect her I think but she’ll respond to me calling her. Sarah?”

The little toddler poked her head out, her eyes brightening in recognition and you heaved a sigh of relief involuntarily. Your maternal instinct made you anxious for kids you barely even knew. She ran towards her father shouting ‘Dada’ and jumped into his arms while he hid his gun. You almost snorted at that, tons of dead bodies surrounding you and he was worried about the gun?

He propped her up, hugging her tightly, and with what you knew now, he was scared to death and rightfully so.

Grace poked her head out and ran towards you now, hugging you from behind your legs and silently peeking at the mysterious human. You held Grace’s hand now, intertwining your fingers and felt relief after long. Even though there was no knowing that the man would help you two but you gave yourself comfort you weren’t alone here, not anymore.

Sarah turned and met your eyes again and whispered lowly, “Oops Mama, I think the games over! Sowwy!”

Steve’s eyes widened at that and you laughed at her innocence, feeling light. You played along with the kid, “It’s alright.” You didn’t want to play ‘Mommy’ anymore after that thinking it would offend her father but even, he chuckled, his laugh beautiful and boisterous.

Suddenly men dressed in black and armed with weapons ran about, skidding and crossing you to survey the area out. You shielded Grace once again but the father ahead of you didn’t even flinch. Noticing your unease, he came closer and put a hand on you arm, “I’m Steve and don’t worry, these are my men, the good guys.”

You nodded, not agreeing with his idea of good and bad but since you hoped he did acknowledge that he owed you one, you hoped none of these men would attack you. You introduced yourself and he nodded.

With Sarah on his hip, he started following one of his men and you followed along hoping to get to the exit. He even asked to drop you home but you refused, just wanting to get to the parking and put all these guns out of your kid’s sight. He tsked over his shoulder and you knew he would insist again later but for now he listened intently to the man he addressed as Buck.

This Buck eyed you several times, not so discreetly, while Steve renounced the whole incident of some spies and whatnot. You closed your eyes, not wanting to eavesdrop and just wanting to relax but you could do neither right now. They were after Sarah; you had presumed right.

Sarah made grabby hands from over Steve’s shoulder while Grace slept soundly in your arms, maybe jealous of her. She pouted and then slowly began her lower lip began to tremble. A whine escaped her mouth as she started bawling. Steve stopped to shush her but she continued screeching, “I miss Mama!” and tried to get away from Steve and jump into your arms. Buck looked surprised while Steve’s eyes pleaded yours and you nodded and gave Grace to her and took Sarah in your arms, gently shushing her and patting her back. She drooled in the crook of your neck but that was nothing new and quietened down. You didn’t want to give Grace away but you couldn’t see another child so miserable, not when you had one of your own.

Steve and ‘Buck’ observed you, not saying anything so you broke the silence. “I’m sorry she confuses me with her mother, I hope she doesn’t get offended by this.”

“She’s no more.” Steve looked down and you cursed yourself for breaking the silence, make the situation more awkward and unbearable.

“I’m sorry.” Well that was better than joking about how Grace didn’t have a father either.

“Don’t be, she deserved what she got.” Steve mumbled and continued walking with ‘Buck’, lightly patting Grace and kissing her forehead.

The peck should have bothered you but you were too engrossed by his words to eavesdrop further or check on Grace. What did he mean she deserved it? You didn’t even want to think of the probability of him killing her. With all the soldiers that surrounded you, you suddenly realised he was capable of more than you thought and you felt stupid for feeling safe with him when you did. He was a leader of sorts, a person with unimaginable power and you had dived headfirst in the kind of things you should avoid at all costs. Even though you hadn't crossed him or weren't on his bad side, getting involved was a mistake.

You learnt this lesson the hard way soon enough.

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lazarettta · 3 years

Text

Misthios II

Characters (Mother Miranda, Reader, Lady Alcina)

Word count (3.1k)

Rating (M)

Warning (little NSFW, language)

Did you really think that Miranda was going to let you leave so easily? Again?

Anything italicized is a flashback...this is part two to Misthios

Your time with the Vikings was fun but all good things had to come to an end. Over the years, you hadn't been too keen on letting too many people in on your secret. Your friends and makeshift family were getting older and you weren't. You were still fit for battle and as young and strong as you were twelve years ago. You knew that you'd overstayed your welcome but you weren't ready to leave until there were too many comments about you not aging a day. It had taken you a week to get your steed ready for long travel and to make sure that you had everything necessary, including the coin to purchase more supplies should you need it.

You weren't above doing odd jobs during your travels if needed. The viking children ran alongside you and your stallion as you both trotted out of the village until you were on an open road. You saluted them before taking off into a run following the lead of your war horse, allowing her to dictate your travels until she decided that she needed a break.

You had all of the time and opportunity in the land.

You traveled like that for a few days until you were coming upon a village but the path was winding and would take some time but you had plenty of daylight and were in no rush. Everything was peaceful until you came across an overturned wagon and nearly trampled over a body laying face down into the soft ground. The dark puddle around him did not indicate that the man would be rising soon.

You were quick to draw your bow and arrow, a good distance from the fight and you had an advantage in case any of them came for you. There was a black flag on the ground near the wagon but it held an insignia that you didn't recognize but you knew royalty when you saw it. The soldiers had the upper hand but there were a few of them dead as well. On the other side, you saw one of the bandits jump on the back of a horse to leave.

Without much of a thought, you raised your weapon of choice and not a second later, you felt the smooth wood of the arrow slip between your calloused fingers and you watched proudly as it found a home in the base of the man's spine, effectively halting his escape but leaving him alive for the time being but he was not without suffering.

It was at that same moment the last bandit was struck down. The remaining soldiers turned to you with their swords raised but before anything else could happen, a sharp and clear but decidedly feminine voice stopped the misunderstanding before it could happen.

A woman with light-colored long hair stepped from behind a large oak tree with two foot soldiers in tow. She didn't seem to care about the ends of her dress being sullied by the mud and blood on the trail as she made her way towards you. You climbed down from your horse when she was closer, not surprised that you were taller than she was but she wasn't that much shorter than you really.

Most other women you met that were your height or taller were fellow warriors. Her eyes were what really startled you, they were so clear they were almost white. They did not have a clear color to them, not one that you could see.

“You are a very long way from home, Viking.”

“Yes, in search of a new one.” you glanced over her shoulder briefly to the soldiers dealing with the one who tried to escape, his agonized yelling startling a nest of crows nearby.

“You don't seem like the type to miss a killing shot.”

Your gaze fell back to her unwavering one and you fought the urge to fidget under her stare even though you were the one towering over her. Her posture was none threatening and her smile had a teasing tilt to it, but her eyes...they pierced your soul, pinned you. You were unsure if you wanted to run from them or figure out how deep they went.

“I figured your King and Queen would want one alive to question.”

“The King has been dead for a long time now.” The woman tilted her head back slightly as if looking at you in a new light and you straightened your back and pushed your shoulders subconsciously and the corners of her pale lips curled a little more. “Have dinner with me tonight, viking, as a token of my gratitude. Those bandits have been quite a torn in my side for a very long time now. Thanks to you, maybe now I will find their leader.”

The physical ache you felt when waking up was around your throat, well your whole neck. Your skin had long since healed over but it took the aches and bruises a while longer to go away. You don't know how long you've been unconscious but even without opening your eyes you knew that you were no longer outside on the side of a mountain which meant that she didn't kill you. But she still hurt you. You didn't know if she showed restraint because you both knew that killing you would be pointless and temporary or she truly didn't want to see you harm even if she was upset with you. You knew that it was the former.

Upset being the understatement.

You opened one eye then the other, wherever she put you it was warm if not a little moldy and it was definitely dark, you weren't quite sure if the torch on the other side of your cage helped any. Maybe it wasn't meant for you to use to see but to ensure that you wouldn't go completely insane in total darkness. It made more sense, you wouldn't want your prisoner to look around either lest they find something to use to escape.

You moved so that your back was against the stone wall, mildly surprised to find that it was a little damp. Your neck was still covered in dried blood but you didn't bother trying to scrape it off, knowing from experience that it wasn't the most pleasant feeling and one you chose not to deal with at the moment though you did pick away the random straws of hay from your skin as you'd been laying on it.

If you had to guess then you were in a basement, whether it was hers or not—you couldn't just sit there. Your backpack was long gone, you didn't have to look around your little cage to know that much. You checked for your gun not surprised to find that it was gone...she even took the damn holster.

You checked for your knife on your waist...gone. You checked the one that was hidden in your boots, or was supposed to be but it was gone too. Even after all this time, she knew you all too well. But even without weapons, a small cage like this wouldn't be enough to keep you. You just needed a plan but you had no idea where the hell you were. You reached up to feel your neck where you remembered her nails digging painfully into your flesh...

Gold plated armor, soft leathers and the finest silk that currency could purchase found themselves haphazardly tossed about all over the floor of the room. They reflected nicely against the small flames of the candles around the room.

The room was temporary, a small stop during your travels across the sea—this was merely a supply stop, but with the weather so severe, the waves were slaves to Poseidon's wrath. The ship was safer docked but she wouldn’t spend another night on board if she didn’t have to.

And didn’t, neither of you did. You were her personal champion—you went where she went. She pointed, and you left a path of bloody boot prints. Her wish was your command.

She laid bare before you, it wasn’t a sight that many were blessed with and no matter what sin you’ve committed at this woman’s whim (hell, even your own), you always thanked the Gods for giving you sight.

The fireplace is the only thing lighting up the entire room behind you both, you could feel the heat of it drying up your sweat but not all of it. You were straddling her, knees on either side of her waist—one hand on her waist and the other by her head, fingers interlaced with the hand that wasn’t reaching back clutching you tight, nails digging into your skin but that slight pain only fueled you.

Her light hair was out of its strict confines and complicated royal hairstyle, now splayed across her blemish free back and the pillows.

This was your reward; having her. You did exactly as she asked, you brought her the heads of those who crossed her and bathed in their blood and in the blood of their loved ones. You left no stone unturned simply because it was her wish.

And in return…you got her, however you wanted. But even trapped underneath you—she was never not in command. You placed your other hand next to her head as well, feeling her cool breath ghosting over your fingers turn sharp and unsteady when your hips snapped forward without warning. Her fingers tightening around yours. She tried to push back against you to take back some control but you met her attempt with untamed energy. Miranda's breathy chuckle tapered off into a mix of a growl and a moan when you did it again and again…

Shaking your head, you let it fall back on the hard wall behind you with your eyes closed. You've longed since buried those memories but they were fresh, as if they were made yesterday. The ache in your heart felt fresh too.

Then you felt it. No you felt her. Her presence was so strong, nearly suffocating and that feeling of dread was crawling up your spine again and you suppressed a strong shudder. You reluctantly opened your eyes, knowing that those eyes you fell so hard for would be looking back at you—the same eyes that tore to shreds. Even after all this fucking time...

You exhaled slowly and heavy, content to just stare at your boots, “I didn't expect to find you here of all places...”

“Would you have come if you'd known that I would be here?”

You looked up and saw that her startling bright eyes were staring back at you, still just as clear as the day you first met, “Why am I in this cage and not dead in a ditch? Besides the fucking obvious.”

She didn't say anything to you for a moment, simply standing there staring at you—drinking you in, it made your skin crawl, both good and bad. If she was bothered about you blatantly ignoring her question, it didn't show—or at least that damn mask she was wearing hid it away from you. All those emotions you'd long since buried and thought you dealt with came bubbling back to the surface like bile in the back of your throat but you kept a tight rein on it. Your explosive temper never dulled over time but you got better at containing it.

But no matter how good you were with restraining yourself, Miranda always knew. You could see it in her eyes. You hated her for it.

“I felt you the moment you arrived.” she said instead after long minutes of unblinking silence, she edged closer to your cell, unconcerned with the fact that you could lunge forward at any point and grab her. “I'm relieved to find you're still alive...and in good health?”

“Either kill me and ditch me somewhere, or just let me go, Miranda. I'm not doing this with you.”

“I cannot and will not do either, (Y/n).” she responded coolly after another minute of silence, keeping your gaze now that you've given it to her, “I just got you back, I'm not going to let you leave me so soon. Not again.”

“You didn't really give me a choice the first time!” you snapped back despite what you told yourself earlier about keeping calm and breathing, but seeing Miranda now—even more beautiful than she was before? It was too much at once. “You made that decision for both of us.” you said, much more quieter but she was close enough to have heard you perfectly fine and you were finally able to look away from those burning eyes.

“You're different.”

“The world is different.”

“Time has made you soft.”

You scoffed, “Would you like to borrow some of it? I mean...what the fuck is this? Where am I?” She regarded you calmly as if she was assessing you, but her eyes were roaming too much to be a simple assessment and you just laughed, sharp and unforgiving, you couldn't help yourself, “Do you feel guilty? Did you ever?”

“I don't have time to feel guilty!” she answered a little too quickly and you saw how her shoulders shifted slightly beneath those feathers, always a tell sign of hers that you never failed to notice and honestly you were surprised that you still even remembered her tales. She was so obviously different, you both were but this dance? While off tune and tense, was still your dance.

“Right, I see.” you tried to ignore it, you really did, but a little piece of your heart fell away at her admission because there was still a small part of you that still longed for closure.

“(Y/n)...”

“Do you even remember what you're supposed to even feel guilty for?”

“Stop it! You're not being fair!” she growled at you, pressing closer against the bars—if she pushed anymore she'd probably break the damn things, or materialize right through them but that didn't stop you from scrambling to your feet to meet her head on, refusing to let her have the full advantage.

“Neither were you! I...” you stopped abruptly, literally choking on your words and you forced yourself to close your mouth and Miranda watched every single emotion drain from your face as if you had flipped a switch and her hands balled into even tighter fists at her sides, unsure what to say and you had nothing left to say.

You two stood staring at each other, once again. Eyes locked but not a word more was said. She reached up, one hand wrapping around an old iron bar, her engraved golden nails clinking softly against the metal.

“Mother Miranda.” a firm but sinewy voice echoed around you both, calling for your attention and it was feminine but you couldn't see who it belonged to. She was just out of range of the cell entrance and you'd have to move closer to Miranda to see who it belonged to—and that wasn't something you were interested in doing, “I apologize for the interruption...but we have a problem.”

“What.” Miranda hissed, her voice no longer soft and velvet—the only way you could describe it was deity like. Stronger, harsher and it would've been scarier if you didn't know the woman behind the mask.

“That fool Heisenberg let that man thing escape the forest and he's now roaming in the village.”

“I see.” Miranda's eyes fell to you again, radiating more power than they did earlier. You'd been so busy arguing with her, you hadn't heard the other woman approach and you wondered how much of that she actually overheard, “When you are ready to talk, I will be waiting for you, my little warrior.”

“Stop calling me that!” you spat, glaring at her irritatingly, “I'm not your anything...perhaps your enemy. You'd do better by just letting me leave, Miranda because you and I both know that killing me isn't an option.”

“And I already told you. I'm not letting you leave me, not again.” she was suddenly right in front of you, inside of the iron cage and you had no fucking idea how she did that but she was too close but the stone wall behind you didn't give away, no matter how hard you pressed. Her eyes were softer now, and you actually had to crane your neck a bit to see them, even at an even six feet, “Learn the truth then you decide if you wish to leave or to stay.”

“The truth?” you scoffed, well aware that you two still weren't alone, “The truth has long since past to be of any interest to me.” you lied straight through your teeth all the while looking into her eyes, you saw a speck of emotion but it was hard to tell when they were so alive, “I don't care about your truth anymore, Miranda.”

“You may not...but I do. Did our love mean nothing to you?” you both ignored the startled noise behind you, “All those late nights and early mornings? I think about them often when this life permits me to...I...do have regrets, (Y/n)...and wishes, most never granted.” she admitted, quietly—her deity voice gone for the moment, “One of my biggest regrets and my biggest wish was you, (Y/n).”

You didn't know how to unpack that in this moment because Miranda suddenly had both her hands on the wall, trapping you as she leaned closer—you knew what she was doing, hell she even knew what she was fucking doing? Was it working? Like the fool you were—it was.

“Allow me time to settle this issue and then we will talk, (Y/n).”

You could see the uncertainty in her eyes, and you almost told her to go fuck herself...it was on the tip of your tongue but your heart was still as stupid as it was thousands of years ago. You kept your lips firmly pressed together, but nodded curtly almost reluctantly. She didn't smile, not really, but that familiar curve of her lips made you tense a little. You were a fucking idiot, and you knew it.

“Lady Dimitrescu will house you. I will send for you when I am ready.” she lingered for a second longer, seeming to want to say more. Suddenly she pushed herself away from you and walking out of your cell with ease, pushing the heavy door out of her way leaving you bewildered.

Had it been unlocked this whole time? She hadn't even bothered to retrain you, but she knew you wouldn't make a move because now she had now something to keep you behaved long enough and you agreed to it.

Ayyye Alcinnaaaa! Idk who's playing but Donna's house scary as shit. Y'all fuck with this story?

#resident evil 8 #mother miranda x reader #alcina x reader #mother miranda #lady alcina x reader #resident evil #resident evil village #lady alcina #lady dimitrescu #dis tew much #assassin's creed odyssey #I'm simpin hard af over here

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ohbuckie · 3 years

Text

BUT IT'S BETTER IF YOU DO | B.B.

Summary: Bucky finds out you're pregnant while deployed in Germany

Warnings: smut, cheating, strip clubs, alcohol, angst, bucky's a dick

Word Count: 1.7k

Listen

Bucky’s face flushes pink when he steps through the door, positioned underneath the sign that reads “GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS” in bright, flashing letters. It’s filled with cigarette smoke and perfume, and there are a few small stages that entertain poles for dancing from floor to ceiling. An unfamiliar song plays while the girls—young, surely younger than Bucky—twirl themselves around the slippery metal expertly.

“You made it, Barnes.” Morita hits his back, covered by his uniform, and chuckles. “Take a seat. I’ll get drinks.” He waits for the rest of the guys to file in—Steve, Dugan, Falsworth, Jones, and Dernier—and follows their lead.

They’re all grown, married for ten years, fathers of toddlers and elementary school students. They’ve been to clubs like this before; to get away from their wives, who they resent for making them work to support the children that they trapped them with. The guys tell him all about how women are only trouble, with their red lips and soft skin.

Bucky married you in early January, and was shipped off to Germany at the end of February, when the tree branches still hung low with the weight of the snow that Brooklyn fosters every winter. He wishes he was home during the spring, to wake up to the chirping birds that nest outside of your bedroom window, and to take day-trips to the city for picnics or bike rides. He doesn’t want to resent you.

You wrote home last week and told him how you’ve fallen pregnant—four months along, because he’s not been home since then—and how you want nothing more than for him to return to you safely. Right now, he wants nothing more than a whiskey on the rocks.

He sits in a chair in front of a stage on which a tall blonde is moving in sync with the music. She’s elegant, and charming, and naked. Well, not really, but much more naked than any woman has ever been in front of him, with the exception of you. All of the other girls he’s been with just pulled up their skirts and unhooked a few buttons of their tops.

She smiles at him, blows a kiss, bends forward enough so he can see straight down her bra. He shoves his hand in his right pocket, where he has a stack of ones that was given to him by Dugan—“as an early baby shower gift,” he explained. He folds one of the crisp bills in half and holds it between his fingers, waiting nervously for when the right time might be to give it to her.

“Go on, give it to her.” Morita urges him, hitting his shoulder. Bucky swallows hard and leans forward, locking eyes with the woman while he slips the dollar underneath the strap of her underwear. She smiles at him flirtatiously, and he nearly forgets that that’s her job.

Other girls walk around the club in clothes that just barely preserve their modesty, running their hands over the shoulders and hair of the men that they pass—mostly soldiers who’ve been granted permission to leave base for the night—and shooting winks at others across the room. Some have scarves draped across their back and down their arms, and others wear sheer robes or slip dresses, accompanied by bright red lipstick and bold lines drawn onto their eyelids. Their nails are painted delicate nude colors or reds to match their makeup, mostly, but some opt for a light pink, or a deep purple.

He looks around him and watches his friends tap shoulders to whisper dirty things about the women around them into each other’s ears, and catches Falsworth passing Steve a cigarette. He reaches his hand out and gestures in such a way that earns him a cigarette, and even a match. He lights it between his teeth and sucks on the end of the cigarette, holding the flame to the other end and exhaling smoke when it catches, flicking the fire out and dropping the charred stick onto the floor.

He pinches it between his index finger and his thumb, which you’ve always told him is such a barbaric way of holding something so fragile. He thinks of you when he breathes in the smoke, and how he’ll now have to climb out the window and onto the fire escape when he wants a cigarette, so that you don’t get sick from it like his mother did when she was pregnant with his sister. He exhales through his nose, and peers back up at the woman on the stage, who is spinning around the sturdy pole with her legs open and her eyes trained on him.

A girl comes up behind him, pushing her hand up his back and to his shoulder, bending to whisper into his ear. “You need a dance?” Her accent is thick, but he likes it.

“Yes! Yes, he needs a dance!” Dugan shouts excitedly, presenting cash to her and patting a blushing Bucky on the back.

She puts her hand under his chin and walks around him, making sure he’s looking up at her the whole time, before she stops and stands behind him, reaching over his shoulders and sliding her hands down the front of his chest. With her mouth beside his ear, she asks his rank.

“Sergeant.” He answers quietly.

“Sergeant what?”

“Barnes.”

She doesn’t answer, only kisses his neck before standing up straight again, making her way to be in front of him. She stands between his parted knees, bracing herself against his thighs while she bends forward so that their noses are only centimeters apart. He can feel her minty breath fan over his chin, and he doesn’t even feel guilty about it, because her hands are the first that have touched him like this in months. His friends are snickering to each other about how he looks like a deer in headlights, but he can barely hear them over how loudly his heart is beating in his own ears. She straddles his lap, rolling her hips forward against him, and invites him to put his hands on her. They stay on her waist, because he’s still a gentleman, if nothing else, while she looks at his eyes and his lips and his neck, and does what he paid her to do; well, what Dugan paid her to do.

She does a couple more moves and it’s over soon enough. He tips her and watches her leave to sit on some other lonely soldier’s lap to remind him of his own wife that waits for him back in America. The girl in front of him is done with her set when he’s ready to pay attention again, and a brunette comes out from behind the curtain for her turn. Her top is red with sequins, and the small panels to cover her bottom half match it, shimmering in the light with her every move. He remembers he has a drink and reaches to pick it up, taking a large sip and wincing at the delicious burn that spreads through his throat and chest.

He thinks of how you phrased the news in your letter, “Oh, James, it’s wonderful!” But it isn’t so wonderful, because he’ll probably die here, in Germany. You’ll get a letter identical to the ones that a few of his friends have already had sent back to the US, one that tells you he’s missing in action, because even if he isn’t lost in a field of other young men, his head will be so badly beaten in that he won’t even have his teeth left to identify him. His brain and his eyes and his tongue will be a stew of meat and blood, and his friends will throw him and the other guys who weren’t so lucky into a mass grave, and that’s where he’ll stay for eternity; sandwiched between two poor bastards who aren’t even cold yet, because nobody he knows has the money to bring him back and give him a real funeral.

He orders another drink and shakes his head in an effort to expel the thoughts from his brain. They seem to fly out of his ear and die upon impact with the floor, because he doesn’t think about you for the rest of the night, until he’s letting the bartender top him off in the bathroom, and not in the way that she’s paid to do.

His eyes roll back into his head and he takes a handful of her hair, because he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands. The lighting is dim and he isn’t entirely sober—neither of them are, which is how they ended up here—but he can see enough of her to know that she’s pretty. Probably nineteen, maybe twenty years old, and she looks just like you, without the pregnancy part. His back is against the wood door of the stall and his pants are around his ankles. She’s on her knees with him in her mouth, her hand at the base while she takes as much as she can. The obscene slurping and sucking noises echo through the bathroom while he bites his lower lip to keep from letting any sounds out.

She didn’t make him pay, which makes him think that she doesn’t do this all the time, but she’s good at it, so he can’t be sure. Maybe she’s married, too. Maybe her husband is worried sick that it’s been fifteen minutes since her shift ended and she isn’t home yet. He really can’t bring himself to care, though. Not with his cock down her throat and an impending orgasm.

It doesn’t take long until he finishes in her mouth. She swallows it and pulls his pants up for him, buttoning his slacks and fastening his belt. She kisses him, but it’s not gentle like yours are. It’s teeth and tongue and hot breath that smells like alcohol, mixing together to form a hot, slobbery storm.

He steps out of the bathroom after she does and finds his friends again. They ask him how it was, touseling his hair and jabbing him in the arm with their fists playfully. He takes a long sip of his drink, sighing before admitting that he loves German women. Maybe even more than American ones.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan fluff

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abbatoirablaze · 2 years

Text

Little Black Book, Chapter 29

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: manipulation, gun violence, death of a character, murder, mentions of mutilation, interrogation with mentions of torture.

“Why the hell haven’t we received any updates?” Steve asked, glaring at Andy as he paced back and forth in the kitchen, “when he went through the procedure, he made it seem like it shouldn’t take this long. Jensen and Bodecker should have texted us by now.”

“I don’t know, Rogers…”Andy muttered as he checked his own phone. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach as he stared at the blank lock screen. He hadn’t gotten any notifications from Lee or Jensen, and their phones had been turned off hours ago, which had only made him all the more nervous, “Neither one of them have responded to the texts I sent.”

“How much do you trust this guy?” Steve asked, his eyes narrowing, “how well do you know him?”

“I got him off a few minor charges a few years ago,” Andy admitted as he tapped his hand against his thigh, “found out about his little side business and he’d been dealing me in on the side when I helped him get some girls.”

“So, were you his partner or were you blackmailing him?”

“I’m not his partner,” Andy sneered, “I just helped him out when he was in a bind. Any time I had a girl that needed to disappear!”

“And he paid you for it?”

“Listen Rogers, I don’t care for your interrogations right now!”

Steve took a few steps towards him until he was directly in front of him, “I’m just trying to see how much I should trust the guy that’s got the future mother of my children in his hands. We haven’t heard anything from Lee or Jake and now I’m finding out that you’re blackmailing the cannibalistic doctor that you gave her to…or am I missing something else? Whose to say he doesn’t just take her and make her disappear until you’re ready?”

Andy’s jaw clenched and he stood so that he was meeting Steve’s eyes, “don’t go all superhero on me, Rogers. Stop pretending that you’re the good guy in all of this. We all took her. We all decided that we were gonna abort Barnes’ bastard child. We all decided that we wanted her. All of us. Together. You’re the one that brought in Jensen and Lee…you know Bodecker can’t stand me. Who’s to say they didn’t kill Kemp and run off with her. They turned off their phones a while ago. GPS coordinates were turned off too. Who’s to say that the three of you aren’t cutting me out and you’re not supposed to ‘take care’ of me?”

Steve’s jaw clenched.

“They wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t do that!”

“No?” Andy asked, throwing his phone flat on the table, “why not? Hmm? It seems like we’re all lacking a bit of morals in some areas. Matter of fact, who’s saying they aren’t cutting us both out? You think they wouldn’t fuck you over given the chance? Take off with her? Kemp would be the perfect cover. They effectively bought themselves two days of ‘recovery,’ where they could move her around.”

“I said, they wouldn’t fucking do that,” Steve growled, glaring at the DA, “stop trying to lawyer me into your web of deception, Barber.”

“Oh I couldn’t do that, Rogers,” Andy said with a shake of his head, “you were the mastermind here. You put the group together. I just tried to keep it all above board legal wise. No murder…but you and Lee went off the rails with that with Ben and Bucky…than Jensen killing that action star. You knew I’d do what I could to minimize the damage especially once you offered me the second shot at her, but maybe you guys figured I was the next weakest link. You gonna kill me off next, Rogers?”

“Fuck off, Barber.”

“Oh, such language from the great Captain America,” he taunted, “tell me…you still kiss her with that mouth, knowing how dirty it really is? How dirty you are?”

“You’re unraveling, Barber.”

“The fuck I am,” he growled, “I’m pissed. Two of the guys disappeared with her. Straight off the board. And you think that you being a superhero is going to offset that and keep them in line? Well guess what, it’s not!”

“Yes it is,” Steve rumbled, grabbing his phone out of his pocket, “I saved their last known coordinates…before they shut them off earlier today…I’m going to go out there and check on things.”

“And what if they ran…huh?”

“If I’m not back by tomorrow or haven’t contacted you, we’re in trouble. Burn this place and head to the second location. Grab the burners from the locker at the edge of town,” Steve reminded him, “regardless, we’re burnt. The Avengers and the authorities are probably closing in on us, and this place is dead in the water.”

“Always got a plan, don’t you,” Andy scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the superhero who had gone rogue, “always got something up your sleeve.”

“Of course, I do,” he replied shortly, cold blue/green eyes flickering to the DA, “And don’t fucking forget it.”

“Don’t worry. I know what to do, Rogers. They won’t have a shot in hell at finding her.”

“Get the fuck out of there.” Andy didn’t speak. Instead his mouth opened and closed, gasping like a fish out of water as he stared at the three men in front of him. His phone was still up to his ear, “BARBER! Did you fucking hear me? I said get the fuck out of there.”

“We’re burnt.”

Steve immediately disconnected the call and threw his phone down on the ground, stepping on it until the technology was crushed into pieces.

“GOD DAMN IT!”

“STEVE!”

Steve’s head snapped away from Bodecker’s corpse and he looked towards the door of the operating suite. Grabbing a scalpel off the surgical tray, he pushed through the doors, and stepped into the well-lit hall.

“Jensen?”

There was a pregnant pause and Steve could hear someone shudder, “Jesus christ, I’m not hallucinating am I?”

“Where are you?”

“In a room. Get me out of this sick fuck’s place,” he begged. Steve followed the sound of his voice until he was in front of a slotted door. Jensen was chained to the far corner of the room, “Shit…did you kill him?”

“Kemp?”

“Yeah,” Jensen nodded, slowly, “they went upstairs after they locked me up.”

“What the fuck happened to Bodecker?” he asked in a growl, “what the hell happened to you?”

“Nikita…she…she did all of that…to Lee,” he shuddered, “then she fucked the doc…he used to be her client.”

“God damn it.”

“She’s going back to them,” Jake said quickly. Steve’s eyes locked on his. He knew that he was referring to the men that were left, “Storm…and Fowler…”

“Fuck,” Steve sighed, throwing the scalpel on the floor, “I’m gonna search the house real quick…find something to open the door and get you out of those chains.”

Steve was, if one thing, quick on his feet. He made his way back up to the main floor, and found a mess in the master bedroom. He had to clench his jaw and remind himself that you were probably just doing it to keep Bucky’s kid alive, and that it meant nothing to you, but the rage that came up when he noticed your shredded panties on the floor by the bed made him damn near homicidal.

But inside of a wooden box he found a wedding ring, a cell phone, and a keychain which had the little e-keys that matched the pads downstairs. Rushing back to Jensen, he let him out, but the question that stuck in his mind was bothering him, “did she look happy, fucking him?”

Jake paled. He didn’t want to relive what had happened in the operating room. He felt his stomach wrench as he looked back down the hall to the door, knowing that Lee’s body was still probably how they left it.

“I don’t-“

“Tell me.”

Jake nodded, not wanting to say the words. His own jaw clenched as he looked at Steve, “she definitely wanted him…They…they fucked in front of me before taking me to the room and going upstairs…she-she definitely has him on her side.”

“Well then…” he grunted, “maybe we need to get rid of this place…smoke the little fuckers out of hiding. I doubt they went back to Fowler and Storm…and after that…we’re gonna pay Kemp’s wife a little visit to see if she has any idea of anywhere else the psycho likes to go.”

“I’m not going to ask you again…where. The fuck. Is she?”

Andy’s jaw remained shut as he stared them down. Nick looked to Bucky and he stalked towards the lone DA, “you know…a lot of people don’t know that Hydra used me for more than just killing people. I was also pretty great at extracting information…now, you know that Johnny here isn’t a killer. He would just lock you up and throw away the key…let all the little guys you pissed off over the years take you and pass you around before leaving you gaping at both ends…but Nick and I…we are killers. We’ve done shit that you can’t even imagine.”

“You’re supposed to be dead…Rogers killed you when you denied his offer.”

Bucky smirked, looking back to Johnny, “guess I have Storm to thank for that…and the serum of course…but that’s not what we’re talking about Barber…you’re going to tell us where the fuck Nikita is…because Johnny won’t hold Nick and I back. Especially not after we found out she’s pregnant…we’ll do anything that we have to do to get our girl back.”

“I don’t know where she is.”

Nick stormed the table, slamming his hands on it, “TELL US WHERE THE FUCK SHE IS OR I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL RIP OUT EVERY FUCKING NAIL ON YOUR BODY AND SHOVE THEM INTO YOUR EYES.”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, calmly, “Steve’s trying to figure it out…w-we gave her to someone to get rid of Barnes’ bastard.”

Bucky paled, “who…give me a god damned name. Now.”

“Kemp…Steve Kemp,” he said nervously. Bucky smiled. The smile slowly turned into a full belly laugh and everyone in the room looked at him like he was crazy, “W-why are you laughing?”

“You gave her to Brendan…” Bucky asked, his laugh tapering out. He got a wicked grin on his face, and shook his head. Bucky held the gun to his Andy’s head, “Brendan, Ben, and I were her first clients…there’s no way in hell he’d ever hurt her…he is in love with her…whoever went with her is probably already dead and on his chopping block being portioned out for the auctions he does.”

Johnny and Nick looked at Bucky, confusion lacing their features, “w-what are you talking about, Bucky?”

“Kemp…an ex client of hers,” Bucky explained, gun still trained on Andy’s face as he told the other two, “he’s a cannibal. But he’s in love with Nikita. We’ve met a few times over the years. He stitched me up when I did some less than reputable things…and I know for a fact that she’s the only person in the world that he would never hurt…and if he knows the baby is mine…he’s going to be coming after all of you next…you’re all going to be dead for trying to hurt her.”

Andy swallowed, and Nick and Johnny looked at Bucky, the confusion turning to nervousness. Bucky spared them each a glance over his shoulder, hearing their hearts racing in their chests, “don’t worry…he’s harmless to us…they probably took their time fucking like rabbits, but chances are they’re trying to find you two now to get her back to us…and when he does…he’ll be coming for whoever is left alive…”

“Left alive?” Andy asked nervously.

“Don’t worry Barber…he won’t have to worry about you…you’ll already be gone.” Bucky informed him as he pulled the trigger.

Bucky and Nick were sure to torch the house when they left it. They wanted anyone to be aware that may have been coming by that it was burnt, and that they had been found out. But pulling out his phone, Bucky had an idea in mind. Pulling up his pinned people, he saw that Kemp had been traveling for a few hours. They had passed through the city and were heading to his home. His real home where his wife and sons were.

“We have to go.”

“What do you mean we have to go?” Johnny asked, looking between Nick, Bucky, and the house.

“Kemp and I stayed in contact for a few reasons,” Bucky replied, “but he’s heading back to his house…which means he may have stashed Nikita, and he’s going to warn his wife and sons to get out of town before Steve catches up to them.”

“Steve wouldn’t-“

But Johnny caught himself, not daring to utter the words aloud. He hadn’t known Captain America well enough to see the writing on the wall that he had a dark side. And with everything considered, he doubted even less that he wouldn’t hurt a woman and children.

“We should go,” Nick said gruffly, “do you know where-“

“Yeah.”

To say that the drive was a tense one was an understatement. All three of the men waited with bated breaths as they pulled up to Kemp’s street, which was lined with police cars, fire trucks, and smoke, billowing out from his home.

But it was the woman off to the corner of the street with Brendan that made Bucky’s heart stop. They were trying to keep a low profile and go unnoticed, but his eyes met hers, and she gasped.

“B-Bucky…”

21 notes · View notes

unpretty · 3 years

Text

astielle ch 28 spoiler ask dump~~

anonymous asked:

Tauril-form is puberty, because that's when his voice changes. Abysscale-form is college-age because that's when he goes to his first orgy.

anonymous asked:

You called Abysscale-form college-age (which does not preclude teenage sexscapades given the ages that go to college) and that tracks with how I think of Tauril-form as going through puberty (because of the voice-change). But if Tauril is the horny teenager that's kind of sad. Because as Minnow has pointed out many times That Dick Will Kill.

not each other, it won't!! although i imagine taurils sleeping with each other would have the bro-iest vibe. very bill and ted. taurils also have Options with people who aren't giant bull centaurs, it's just awkward is all. fortunately for everyone taurils are actually adults and are not full of hormones, they just have zero impulse control and when they like someone they want to impress them and spend time with them and it doesn't necessarily occur to them to get their dicks involved in the situation (karzarul's mind was elsewhere the first time he was a tauril)

anonymous asked:

When Violet said monsters make the best mercenaries and throw the best parties I didn't think about it, but the fact that all the impyrs came into being with swordsmanship skills equal to Lynette probably had something to do with the former. Even if ten isn't that many, THEY COME BACK. (Eventually. In, like, a month.) And the others probably learned from Lynette, even if they died. Lynette's unintentional teaching, back again.

they learned from the best murdering them repeatedly

anonymous asked:

When Ari is repopulating, and he skips Black Drakonis, he says "Makes sense." But he's surprised when Violet points out that Black Drakonis is missing, so it sounds like he at least had a theory/assumption at the time for why she was skipped, but it doesn't match with the new information.

he initially just assumed that black drakonis had managed to avoid being killed the whole time, which made sense because she's a big dragon and she can just fly away if someone is trying to murder her. but generally if a bigass monster is alive someone is going to see it, especially her, because she likes finding population centers to try to guard.

anonymous asked:

"It also occurred to him that trying to get Minnow to act like she lived in a society since they were young may have negatively impacted his sense of what constituted an acceptable thing to say to a person while his dick was out." Is just HILARIOUS.

anonymous asked:

Honestly I can relate to Leonas cause just last week I was like 'I keep falling asleep in class maybe I should develop a caffeine addiction' and one of my friends was like 'pls eat more food' so I started to actually have breakfast and an after work snack and I magically stopped falling asleep in class

anonymous asked:

Minnow's hips don't lie, but castle ruins are strangely deceptive.

everyone who wasn't following along when astielleblogging intersected with kink taxonomy hell is going to be so confused if/when minnow finally gets stuck somewhere

@9ofspades asked:

Ari is my favorite again and I want him to have actual eternity to be happy with his poly soulmate throuple together. And also his big monster family. Also I think he's wrong about what the core of the Heir and Hero are - both of them have, deep in the core of their souls, the fact that they are Monsterfuckers.

for the record i have a post in my drafts with all of your readalong asks and i still haven't decided what to do with them but i enjoyed them IMMENSELY

anonymous asked:

>looking for food >ask the cook if their food is earthy or wet >she doesn't understand >pull out illustrated diagram explaining what is earthy and what is wet >she laughs and says "it's good food sir" >buy some food >its wet

@ivylaughed asked:

I love the tumblr meme references in Astielle. The guards bringing their own knives; there being an infinite variety of brassica oleracea; the fucking chocolate guy. I'm half-waiting for a children's hospital/color theory reference. Thank you for the easter eggs.

i'm glad someone read 'chocolate birdhouse' and immediately thought THAT FUCKING CHOCOLATE GUY AGAIN ashjasd

anonymous asked:

I just wanted to say that as a plant nerd and forager I deeply appreciated Minnow's surprisingly accurate botany lesson.

unfortunately all the books that leonas gave minnow are still at her house and so she cannot cite sources for the existence of hemlock, queen anne's lace, and giant hogweed

anonymous asked:

“I think you overestimate people’s willingness to admit when things don’t make sense to them," lmao Minnow has a point

will the two men she is with learn from this and start admitting when they don't know things they think they should and are confused? absolutely not.

anonymous asked:

XD Ari hears "Kavid" and immediately attempts a strategic retreat.

anonymous asked:

“‘you should get dressed’ is a complete sentence.” Is making me laugh.

it's probably for the best because if he actually had known all three of them were out there it would have taken him like an hour to get ready and he would have had at least one breakdown about how none of his outfits were good enough and it was all nari's fault

anonymous asked:

Kavid: I will be happy to HAVE YOU ALL *lascivious eyebrow wiggle* at my earliest convenience.

anonymous asked:

"he gets smaller" "in this weather who doesn't?" KITTY PLZZZ

anonymous asked:

I can't decide whether I love or hate Kavid - I have a very Specific idea in mind for his voice, though I admittedly can't figure out where I'm pulling it from. He is an Excellent character though. Lovely chapter as always :D

anonymous asked:

Before, I was entertained by Kavid. Now I love him.

anonymous asked:

Kitty, Kraven and Kavid have similar speech patterns on purpose, right??? Right?????

i was honestly imagining some kind of nonsense faux-european what-country-is-this-even-from hollywood accent but imagining that he has sounded extremely russian this whole time is extremely funny

@rose-and-bones asked:

SHE HAS A TYPE aghfgstjs

minnow having a thing for obnoxiously pretty men who think they're great aka self-recognition through the other (horny)

@speakingintothevoid asked:

“You are,” Leonas said, “an egotistical, self-important fop.” “Ye-e-es,” Kavid said without shame. “She has a type, does Starlight.” I! LOVE!! IT!!! Makes me almost think of Violet and Karzarul - our point of view character being faced with a version of themselves who are more comfortable in their own skin and our boys not knowing why that annoys them

@keleviel asked:

I rescind my earlier mild disdain, Kavid is great. Is he actually The Greatest Of Bards, or is that just more showmanship?

he rocks about as hard as you can rock on a lyre, which is probably harder than you'd think (especially if you brought a lot of drummers) (which he does)

anonymous asked:

Jakshahshsh every time a new astielle chapter comes out i read it at least twice. Kavid i love you. Leonas i love you also you fucked up lil man. And karzarul the seat. And minnow the mischievous. and just. poor nari. existing in the same world as minnow and her all-powerful boyfriends and also kavid. nari needs a raise

she really does

anonymous asked:

Bruce in Office Meeting and Leonas grabbing the wine when Kavid starts talking about Imperials solidarity.

anonymous asked:

"You would like to compare notes?""Always." Brilliant. Leonas to a t. Loving this interlude with kavid. Snuggly tipsy leonas is a treat. kavids talk of how the weather makes all of us smaller had me cackling. Also this batshit imperial conspiracy is gr8

anonymous asked:

I am suddenly much less comfortable about Leonas performing medical experiments on Minnow, though no fault of his own. :(

@mooseman13579 asked:

Leonas finding out about the weird sun empire truther stuff: haha I'm in danger

the real unanswered question is how much of this is news and how much of it is stuff he already knew and assumed was normal

@thegayknee asked:

Holy shit this is it, isnt it. This is how they fix karzarul's reputation and expose Leland. With the power of Kavid

anonymous asked:

Karzarul's Questlog: "Work on our Image" updated, The Tale of Hollow Monsters delivered to bard.

anonymous asked:

just how many of her lovers is minnow going to recruit into her questing party

she should probably be swapping people out to keep their levels consistent but instead she just keeps karzarul and leonas as her companions for every single quest

@flying-butter asked:

"Details! I need details!" "The king sucks." This is every conversation with any of the trio. Minnow likely knows how to complete half of Ari's quests and Leonas the other half, but no one talks about anything without prompting.

minnow just assumes that everyone knows what she knows because she can't possibly be the brains of the operation and meanwhile karzarul and leonas are both busy having shame

anonymous asked:

i was so excited for the lore drop but the moment Leonas sat in Karzarul's lap my brain just shut off

@themaidenisdeath asked:

oh yes, as we all know, "all business" and "taciturn" are the first words that come to mind when we think of Minnow. It reminded me of when she met Karzarul and he told her she was particularly chatty for hero. Sorry Kavid, you're just neither a Sweet, Considerate Monster with a Dick of Steel And Tentacles To Match™ nor a Twink Prince With Silky Hair, Dom Tendencies And Weird Dietary Beliefs™

@halfdeadfriedrice asked:

"what Hero business?" / "I'm the Hero. All my business is Hero business." You tell em Minnow! And then it turns out to be Quest relevant after all; all business is Hero business Also kavid's last night's makeup and messy convertible couch covered in laundry with half-empty wine bottles on the floor is THEE most visually resonant, I feel like I am visiting a college friend

leonas got very lucky that there weren't any cigarette butts floating in that wine because in his mood he might have just drank it anyway

#original #astielleblogging #writeblogging #astielle spoilers

87 notes · View notes

turntechgoddesshead · 3 years

Text

Promise

Hey guys! Remember me? I was the rando that said i was gonna write Sally Face fanfic, wrote one headcanons post and yeeted off the internet for a couple days. Well, i’m back and I did indeed write a thing. This is the beginning of a series, if ya’ll like it that is. I don’t know if this will end up as Larry x Reader or Sal x Reader but hell, i guess we’ll see. Anyways, here ya go!

Also feel free to hit me up for Headcanons, they’re fun warm ups.

Words: 1624

TW: Mention of animal death, Parents leaving, and Juvy.

Y/n Is a girl and uses she/her pronouns, has freckles and glasses. Sorry haha, i have a hard time not writing in those features bc this did indeed start off as a shameless self insert. Y/N also has two dads bc happy pride month.

~~~~~~

A tiny cry echoed through the hallways of the labor ward, as a new life had blossomed just merely a few moments ago. Her fathers welcomed her into their lives with open arms and tears shedding from their eyes, as they drank in ever tiny inch of her brand-new body. She was absolutely perfect to them, and everything that they had worked so hard for. Her tiny hand gripped tightly onto the finger of the man who held her, her small green eyes cried tears of confusion as the second man beside her smiled and placed a gentle hand onto the top of her tiny head of H/C hair.

“She’s so beautiful,” The first man spoke to the other, failing to contain his tears. The nurses watched in silent anticipation as the two finally introduced themselves to the newest member of their family. The woman who sat in the bed, smiled happily watching the two interact with the baby which she had carried inside her for nine months. She was finally meeting the family she forever deserved to be apart of, and the family which she had so graciously chosen to give her baby up to. After passing the baby girl off to the nurses, the two men embraced the woman into a teary hug, thanking her for all of her kindness.

“Thank you so much, for our little Y/N Moore.”

Days turned into weeks, which casually turned into months, leading to the sudden and unexpected change that occurs within the years of growing up. Five years into her young life, little Y/N and her fathers moved into their own little slice of heaven, room 402 of the Addison apartments in Nockfell. They happily lived along with the other residents, making friends with the Johnson family which resided in the basement below. Larry Johnson was the only child of his parents, Lisa and Jim, who was just excited to have another child his age in the complex. The two children eventually became inseparable, always in one room or the other inevitably getting into whatever trouble children at the age of five or six get into. Y/N eventually grew into a worrisome little girl, always anxious over whether or not the duo would get away with their latest antics while Larry easily concocted them in that little brain of his. Three years Into the Moore’s and Johnsons friendship Young Y/N and Larry played outside excitedly with a handful of firecrackers which Mrs. Lisa had brought home. Y/N expressed to the young boy how anxious she was about playing with something which her fathers would inevitably be angry about, but eventually calmed down and began to play after her best friend convinced her it would be alright.

“Larry, be sure to aim it away from the building!” She told him in between her high-pitched giggles. Snow outside fell from the sky and landed delicately into her hair, just to melt moments after.

“I don’t think you can aim them He-" Before the boy could finish his sentence, the firecracker went off, flying towards the building and into an open window, before exploding into a flurry of pops and whistles. The sudden silence after the firecracker ceased lasted for only a moment as a sudden screech emitted from Mrs. Gibson, the old woman who resided within the apartment. All color drained from the freckled face of the little girl as she gazed up at the window in horror, listening to the screams of terror and anger that omitted from just a few floors above her.

“L-Larry,” Larry had cut Y/N off before she could even form words. He gripped her wrist tightly, pulling her out of the sight of the window. Hurriedly he tugged her along to the side of the building so neither of them could be seen, glancing around the corner once for caution, before turning his attention to his friend. Y/N’s face had grown ghost-like as fat tears began to form in her eyes and roll down the center of her cheek.

“Larry, did we hurt her?” She cried, putting her face into her hands. Her sobs turned into hiccups as she constantly attempted to wipe the water off her face. The pressure of her best friends hands gripping tightly onto her shoulders, suddenly pulled her out of her panicked state. She looked up at Larry who seemed as cool as possible, his eyes were sharp as he looked down at her with determination.

“No Y/N, we didn’t,” He told her, nodding his head, “You were up in the treehouse by yourself, I asked you to play, and you were angry at me remember?”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as she realized the weight of the situation, “No, Larry, I can’t leave you by yourself!”

Larry shook his head.

“Go sit in the treehouse, and count to a thousand. Once you do, climb down, and go straight home. When your dad asks you what you did, you say you played in the treehouse by yourself,” He ordered her, as though he hadn’t been coming up with this plan on the spot.

“It’s not going to work!” Y/N continued to sob.

“Yes, it is! Tell them you were mad because I nocked your glasses off with a snowball! But you didn’t play with me today, promise me you’ll do what I say!” Larry shook her shoulders slightly in desperation, before the girl eventually nodded to him.

“Good,” Larry sighed, releasing the grip he had on her shoulders. He watched as his best friend turned on her heal and began to run towards the tree house.

Y/N didn’t hear from Larry for two weeks after that. Her parents kept her at arm’s reach for what felt like an eternity, as she constantly wondered what her friend was up to. Every day she would ask permission to make her way down to the basement to see her friend, and every day she was denied. Weeks turned into months, as her parents protective grip seemed to loosen ever so slightly, reluctantly allowing her to wander the complex on her own after a plethora of begging on the young girls part. She sauntered through the hallway, her eyes glued to the stained hardwood floor as she walked mindlessly, wondering about her friend who she knew was just five floors below. It wasn’t until the little girl had bumped mindlessly into another person that she was snatched from her anxiety inducing thoughts.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” She spoke meekly, fixing the round glasses that sat delicately on her nose. Upon looking up, Y/N immediately recognized the woman with long brunette hair and much more empty than usual eyes.

“Mrs. Lisa!” Y/N replied, her emotions suddenly too much for her small body to handle, “Is Larry here?”

Lisa looked down at little Y/N almost painfully, her eyes bore dark circles under them, and she held the mop in her hand tightly, “Larry is down in the basement right now Y/N,” She replied calmly.

Sheepishly, Y/N let out a small, “Oh,” and stared down at her feet as she rocked back and forth anxiously.

Lisa smiled just a little bit at the little girl and pulled a small card out of the back of her pocket, “Tell you what though, why don’t you just go visit him now?”

Excitedly, Y/N snatched the card from Lisa’s hand and hugged her with all her strength, excited at the opportunity to see her best friend once again, “Thank you Mrs. Lisa! You’re the best!”

In a hurry she quickly ran towards the elevator and stuck the keycard in, which allowed her access to the basement. It took her only a moment to get to the apartment that was underground, but when she did, she eagerly ran to the door. Not even bothering to nock, the little girl opened the door and ran straight for the room where she knew Larry was. She opened the door to his room, noticing him laying on his bed with his hands behind his head and bulky headphones covering his ears as his foot tapped ever so lightly.

“Larry!” She cried excitedly, jumping on top of the poor unexpecting boy, “I’ve missed you so much!”

Larry scrambled to take his headphones off and toss his Walkman to the side, “Y/N?! Where have you been?”

“Where have you been?!” She replied to his question, crushing him in the largest hug all while attempting to hold back her cries.

Larry grew silent, looking down at his hands before looking at Y/N in embarrassment, “The firecracker killed Mrs. Gibsons pet rabbit.”

Y/N let out a gasp and covered her mouth.

“And they sent me to Juvie for a couple weeks.”

“No!” Y/N cried, grabbing his hand in instinct.

“Y/N I-“ Larry paused, looking at her before sighing, “I think it drove my dad away.”

Y/N cocked her head in confusion and tightened the grip on Larry’s hand, “What do you mean?”

“My dad left a couple days after they sent me away,” He confessed, his face burning red in shame. He looked away from his friend and steadied his breathing, as though trying to contain his own emotions, “I thought I drove you away too.”

Y/N’s heart jumped to her throat as she defensively rose to her feet, “Larry, you couldn’t ever drive me away! Daddy and Papa have been acting so weird and protective, and now I guess I know why… but it wasn’t my choice I promise.”

Tears fell down her face, but she quickly wiped them from her face and continued to talk, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, but from now on, we do everything together!”

Larry smiled at her, pulling her into a hug.

“You promise?”

“Pinky.”

#sally face fanfic #sally face #sally fisher x reader #sal fisher x reader #larry johnson x reader #larry johnson #Sally Fisher #Sal Fisher #ashley campbell

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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 3 years

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I dont know if your accepting requests right now, but I love your kiddo headcannons. Could you do the Kiddo's reacting to Reiner asking you to marry him? I just really want to know who's going to get excited for the wedding, if any of the kids are going to be upset...your headcannons are just the best!!

Hey! Yes my requests are open, it's written in my bio tho i get it might be confusing. Imma make sure to also write it on the navigation post.

And by the name of persephone this the cutest most wholesome kiddo scenario! How did i not think of that? Just what realm of heaven are you living on Anon? Whatever it is thank you for blessing us with this thought💛

You're with Reiner, he wants to propose but his cousins overhear him.

{ Reiner x reader | tw:marriage tw:proposing tw:parental-neglect tw:heavy-angst | cartoony?, fluff, angst with comfort | modern }

{ The Lanterns, circa 1910 by Charles Courtney Curran 1861-1942 }

"And no opening the door to anyone no matter how sorry you feel for them, okay?" Colt said while adjusting the tie around his neck, making sure it's even as he takes one final look at himself in the mirror before putting on his coat.

"Okay" Falco replied, watching as his brother was getting frustrated with the too many buttons on his coat. "Do you need help?"

Nodding his head, Colt let Falco do his buttons while he reached for the cup of coffee he left on the table, quickly finishing it all. "And make sure to get to bed on time, no staying up reading comic books, you have school tomorrow."

"Don't worry I won't" Falco looked in concern at the empty coffee cup, "isn't this your third one today? I don't think you should be drinking this much..."

"You worry too much Falco, just take care of yourself okay?" Colt rubbed his brother's hair, before patting his head. "I'll text you to check on how you're doing so make sure to charge your phone."

And just like that, Colt wrapped a scarf around his neck, grabbed his keys, and left through the door. Leaving Falco standing there at the entrance, alone in the house.

Looking around the quiet room, Falco picked up the empty cup before washing it in the sink. Just as he was putting it away, the door bell rang.

'Did he forget something?' He thought, wondering if it's his the keys again. But looking at the table, he could see nothing was there.

Wait...Colt did take his keys before leaving, why would he be ringing the doorbell.

The ringing got more frequent, followed by aggressive knocking. Falco took a step back into the kitchen, thinking if he could dash upstairs to get his phone in time.

But he didn't want to trouble his brother...Think Falco think! What would captain america do in this scenario? But Reiner always told him he should think for himself...

And so he grabbed a knife, slowly inching towards the door but then he heard it, that fimilar sound.

"Falco? You in there? It's freezing open the door!"

"Gabi?!" Dropping the knife, Falco rushed to the door. Quickly unlocking it as a very cold looking Gabi stepped inside.

"What took you so long? I can't feel my fingers!" Rubbing her hands together to attempt to warm them up, Gabi glared at Falco.

"Sorry I thought you were a-" he looked away at the knife "uh..anyway let me get you a blanket" before he could rush up the stairs, Gabi pulled him back.

"No there's no time! We have to leave now." Holding his hand, Gabi dragged a very confused Falco out the door and they began making their way to the next destination.

Soon enough, the pair found themselves standing outside Udo's house, directly under his window.

"You still haven't told me why we're here." Falco watched as Gabi was looking for something on the ground, he stiffened when she smiled after picking up a small rock.

"I will tell you once Udo and Zofia are here, it's very important." She handed him the rock. "Now let's focus on getting Udo here, make sure to aim for his window because his mom is a really light sleeper."

"Wait if that's the case then why didn't we go to Zofia's house first? She lives right opposite of mine!" Falco whisper-shouted.

"Because! Neither of us can deal with a sleeping Zofia and you know that, only Udo knows how to wake her up." Gabi explained, crossing her arms while getting impatient. "So hurry up and throw the rock!"

Flaco looked at Udo's window, then at the rock. He looked at Gabi one last time before closing his eyes and throwing it, it made a sound as it hit the window....nothing happened

"Why am I the one throwing the rocks?" He looked anxiously at Udo's dark window, moving his weight from one leg to the other.

"I'm stronger. If i throw it, I'll break the window." Gabi was looking for another rock, having found one slightly bigger than the last. "Here try this one"

Having reunited again, the four of them were walking down the street to Reiner's house late at night. Gabi leading the group, Falco following her reluctantly, Udo keeping a still sleepy Zofia from walking into a wall while in her pajamas.

"This better be good Gabi, otherwise you can forget about copying my math homework for a month." The thought of just turning around and going back home to bed was still in the back of Zofia's mind.

Having almost reached Reiner's house, the four of them could see multiple cars parked outside of it, some of them they recognise.

"See! I told you all it'd be worth it. They're having a secret party without us! I heard Reiner talking about it on the phone with Zeke this morning when I was pretending to be asleep so I don't have to walk home." Gabi said as they sneaked to the side of the house.

"That's mister Zeke's car, miss Annie's and...even Porco's too.." Udo said as they climbed the house fence.

"They invited Porco but not us?" With that information, Zofia was fully awake.

"That's exactly what I've been telling you guys about! Here look!" Standing on her toes, Gabi looked through the window, between the curtains. Three heads joining her soon.

Looking inside, they could see the living room they were so fimilar with, looking really different. For once it wasn't a mess of pillows and candy wrappers! It was actually clean with various candles adding to the atmosphere.

Zeke and Pieck could be seen siting next to each other on the couch, drinking some wine while Colt is in the arm chair next to them with Porco pushing a drink in his hands.

Annie and Bertolt are leaning against the wall, she's holding a plate of donuts while he's talking about something.

Finally, you and Reiner are sitting on the couch opposite to Zeke and Pieck. His hand is around your shoulder and he keeps taking glances behind him at bertolt, while Zeke stares at him from the front.

If you focus, you can hear the muffled sound of music playing in the background.

The four kids watched as Reiner whispered something in your ear, before you noded, got up and headed towards the kitchen. The second you left, all of them crowded at the couch next to Reiner, Talking in hushed tones.

"What...are they doing?" Udo watched as Reiner took out a small red box from his pocket, hands shaking while the people around him leaned in to see what's inside as he opened it.

Quiet gasps and awws followed after as the ring inside came into view, glittering in the dark by the candlelight. Although that only seemed to fluster Reiner even more.

The four of them looked at each other with wide eyes, then back at the ring as Reiner reached out to hold it delicately in his hand for a few seconds as if he's offering it up to the air in front of him, the room got quiet, everyone holding their breaths.

"Oh " Falco said, "i...think i know what's going on." Both Udo and Zofia noded.

"What?" Gabi knitted her eyebrows, tilting her head, "what's going on?"

Before any of them could answer, Zofia told them to keep quiet when she noticed you walking back in the room, the ring back in the box inside Reiner's pocket.

Everyone was now standing, smiles on their faces, even Annie showing one of her rare ones. You were holding a new plate of donuts when you noticed them, with Reiner in the middle, nervous eyes staring right at yours.

Stepping towards you, Annie took the plate before going back to her spot. A few chuckles from Zeke, Bertolt and Pieck followed while Reiner shock his head.

Still outside, the kids saw Reiner start talking about something. Whatever it is, it must have been emotional because everyone in the room was listening with anticipation.

"I can't hear anything" unlocking the window, Gabi opened it just slighly. The muffled sound of music becoming clear as Reiner was finishing his speech.

"And you'd make me the happiest man in the world" he got on one knee, hand taking something out of his pocket. "If we could spend the rest of our lives together and I'll cherish every single moment you're by my side."

He opened the red box, holding the ring in front of you, eyes pleading. "Will you please marry me?"

The second you said yes, Reiner pulled you in the tightest most loving hug in your life, muttering "thank you"s under his breath. You could taste saltiness of his tears when he kissed your lips, still not letting go.

"He's crying" Udo said, feeling his own glasses getting a bit blurred.

"They're kissing." Falco's face was as red as a tomato, covering his blushing face with his hand but looking through his fingers.

"Annie finished all the donuts" was Zofia's comment with a pout.

Gabi's hold on the window got tighter, her lips quivering. "We have to stop them. They can't get married!" And like that, she slammed the window open before climbing inside.

"Gabi! Wait!" Falco tried grabbing her sleeve but was too slow, so he climbed after her into the room.

As expected from two children suddenly breaking in the room through the window, everyone's eyes were on them with surprised expressions.

Looking straight at Reiner, Gabi pulled you away from him before snatching the ring box from his hand. "NO! no one is marrying anyone" with all her might, she threw the box to Falco before telling him to run away.

Having been dragged into the middle of this, Falco looked at Colt's concerned expression, Reiner's confused face and Pieck's amused one. Stepping near Colt, he was about to give him the ring when he saw Gabi's face, making his stop midway.

"Run Falco! Just go!" She yelled, tears streaming down her face, legs shaking. "They can't leave us! Not like our parents did..."

Falco felt his chest tightening, recalling how empty the house feels with just him and Colt being away for work most of the time. How cold it is, unlike the warmth he feels whenever they stay over at your house.

He began tearing up too, holding the box so tightly to his chest.

It was Reiner who made the first move, while everyone was stunned looking at the two crying children. Pulling the both of them to his chest as they sobbed, he wrapped his arm safely around them. He looked at you and you followed in his steps.

After some time and explaining, Colt was comforting Falco while on the couch with Pieck doing the same on his other side. You had Zofia on your lap while she ate some Donuts you stashed away from Annie. Gabi was still clutching to Reiner with Udo on his other side doing the same.

Gabi would take a bite out of a donut, cry a bit then take another bite. Sometimes glancing at the red box on the table.

With time, reassuring words and Zeke making the kids laugh, things slowly got better. Reiner and you completely reassured them that you're never leaving, you love them more than anything in this world. That getting marriage is going to get you even more closer together than anything.

Hearing those words calmed Gabi down, each of them made you make a pinky promise to not replace them ever, same thing to Reiner.

That's when Bertolt brought up the fact you still haven't worn the ring, and it might make them feel better if they were the one to place it on your hand. And that seemed to grab their attention as they began arguing between themselves which one of them should do the honour.

{ The Lanterns, circa 1910 by Charles Courtney Curran 1861-1942 }

Headcanons

Strap in because boi are we in for a ride. These kids went through a lot even in a modern non-war world

They all have an altered negative view on marriage, especially Gabi and Falco.

Both of Falco's parents are deceased, he lives alone with Colt who's trying his hardest to work and take care of both of them, of course Zeke and Pieck help a lot too and try to be his stand in parents.

He knows about love and how good it is, he just thinks marriage would mean you and Reiner might also go away.

Gabi's parents are alive and well, they're just rarely in her life. She's an alone child with no siblings, so far Reiner has been her only relative that she counts as family.

Her parents often leave her at her aunt's house whenever they go on a trip away, or as she started getting older, alone in the house. It gave her a lot of freedom but also a misguided and neglectful life.

Reiner has been trying to fill both roles of her parents for her, and when you came along it was like a dream coming true, she suddenly has someone who truly cares for her being and loves her unconditionally.

So when she heard you were getting married, something in her snapped and fears about you both leaving her too just like her parents clouded her mind.

Udo and Zofia both have their moms only, they bond over it. In Udo's case it was after his father passed away in an accident that his mother became really overprotective and Borderline overbearing.

She's worried about everything, he feels like it's his fault somehow and can't help but copy her anxiety and paranoia.

When he heard about you getting married, he felt a sting of pain and guilt, like he's getting in the way and it never was his real family to begin with.

Zofia's mom is another case, her dad left them when she was younger without a word. Her mother lost trust in anyone after that and was emotionally unavailable.

She saw how hurt her mother was over her dad, she wanted to be strong for her mom and never have to depend on anyone.

So when she heard you were getting married, a sense of dread filled her at realising one of you will hurt the other somehow and she will have to be strong on her own again.

The four of them looked up to you both, were loved and cherished by you both like they've longed for so long.

They fear losing you, they fear losing the warmth, love and care you showed them.

So take it slow with them please, they've been hurt a lot. They don't mean to be ungrateful or rude they're just kids who are terrfied.

Be paitent and slowly introduce them to marriage in a new light, let them grief over their own parents in a healthy way while comforting them. Make them feel included in the planning and wedding and everything and I promise you they'll be fighting for the flower girl spot at the wedding if you just take it slow and gentle.

Yes even Falco and Udo want to be the flower girl.

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whetstonefires · 4 years

Text

in the shadows

hey guess who has two thumbs and just spent 5 hours straight writing another batman AU?

Batman wasn’t a person.

He faked it very well. When the League gathered, the line of his mask against pale skin looked natural and human, a little more perfectly fitted than the Flash’s but not quite as perfect as Green Lantern’s, which was an energy projection and not a real object and thus lay against his face flawlessly, without shift or gap.

His mouth didn’t bend into many expressions and his body language wasn’t voluble, but the emotive gestures that he did make were pretty normal. The rare smile seemed honest. He had a heartbeat, perfectly steady. His shadow (almost) always matched the shape that was blocking the light.

The stories that came out of Gotham, about the Bat—those could be exaggerations, born of terror and manipulated perception. Clark, of all people, knew how much you could convince people to believe things that weren’t real, because they made a better story. Even the scraps of photography and film showing a towering thing of black fog and long fangs could have been some clever trick with projectors.

The fact that Superman couldn’t see through his suit just meant it was well made.

He’d had to pool his observations with Diana and J’onn before he’d been sure he wasn’t imagining things. But Martian Manhunter knew shapeshifting, and said the block against his mind when he tried to touch Batman’s thoughts did not feel quite human. And Superman knew what posing as human looked like. And Wonder Woman knew truth, and its absence.

Batman wasn’t human. Which wasn’t the problem, of course.

The problem was that he was pretending he was. Pretending it rigorously in a situation where there shouldn’t be any need, unless he had something worse to hide. Pretending it in a way that overlaid on a certain inhuman predatory grace began to look very dangerous indeed.

Superman could see both things in him now, watching narrow-eyed through a roof into the room where Batman bent over a child’s bed, cape swirling up larger and darker than he let it get around them. The man and the hungry creature, flipping in and out of focus, neither ever gone but superimposed, like a trick picture that was two things at once.

Knuckles ghosted over the boy’s cheek, claws turned inward, and the child sighed softly, and sunk deeper into sleep. Batman’s heart wasn’t beating, but Clark could monitor the child’s vitals easily from here.

Batman drew his hand back, and tipped his head up—looking back at Superman as though the roof was no more a barrier to his perceptions than to Clark’s. Waited a beat, as if making sure his attention had been noticed, and then passed soundlessly between the other beds to the window, slid it open, and launched himself out through it and up onto the roof.

He didn’t bother to restrain himself to even a plausible approximation of human limits, now. The arm he reached up to the edge of the roof to pivot himself up by was too long, and his shoulder rotated further than it should have been able to, and he landed with impossible soundlessness in a billow of cape that was far, far larger than any cape that only reached to his heels should have managed, and which faded out at the edges into shadow. He knew he was found out.

Superman took the obvious invitation, and sunk down to join him. It was better, sitting like this, facing the same way on the ridgepole of a two-story building. Batman hadn’t hurt that child, that he could tell. There was no need to make this a confrontation.

“I don’t understand why,” he said at last. Out of deference for sleeping children, he kept his voice soft—he would have worried about a human being able to hear it, but now he knew he didn’t have to worry about that with Batman. “Why go to so much trouble to deceive us? We haven’t kept secret what we are. Not from you.”

Alien, alien, user of alien weapon, magical princess…

Batman sighed. He spoke almost as softly as Clark had, and his voice sounded the same as ever, except for the fact that a human voice couldn’t get this quiet without falling into a whisper. “I’m not like you.” He turned.

He’d let some of the details of his human mask fall away—what must have been the exhaustively rendered texture of skin, the flakes of dry skin on chapping lips, a crease at the corner of his mouth that had suggested he scowled or smiled more, outside of his costume. There was no pretense of a jawbone, under the skin, though the jawline externally hadn’t changed. The cowl still looked like something he was wearing, but Clark knew it was not. It flexed like skin when Batman narrowed his blank white eyes and said, “I can see you know that.”

“You’ve visited that kid every day for weeks,” Clark said. “Why?”

Batman stared at him. “How long have you known?”

“Batman…”

“You’re confronting me now because you’re worried about my intentions toward Dick. He changed your mind about something. Ergo, you’ve been sitting on this for a while. How long have you known I wasn’t real?”

That was such a bizarre choice of words Clark almost skipped answering the question to chase it down, but he held himself back. This wasn’t a story, and Batman wasn’t even a hostile source so far, if it had been. “Wonder Woman, J’onn and I pooled our observations about four months ago, in April. We were pretty sure by the time we finished comparing notes.” He shrugged. “I suspected something a long time before that, but it’s hard to say when it started to be more than…a feeling.”

“A feeling,” Batman echoed. “Yes, it would start there.”

“So?” Superman prompted. He had liked Batman. He was the last person who could insist that someone hiding the truth of his own nature was reprehensible, though the sting he’d felt about it was an uncomfortable reminder of how much most of his friends would resent him, if they knew the truth. So he’d meant to let it lie, until Batman chose to trust them, or gave them a reason not to trust him. “Why have you been visiting…Dick?”

It wouldn’t be suspicious on its own—well, not very suspicious, all things considered, in context—except that Batman had changed, around the same time. Diana said his presence seemed deeper, Clark thought he seemed to be having trouble staying within the outlines of his human mask. J’onn agreed that he seemed somehow more powerful.

Batman stayed silent a long time. Eighteen heartbeats from the boy below them, slower than those of his peers because he had an athlete’s conditioning already and was more deeply asleep than most of them. At last, the being beside him confessed, “He’s carrying me.”

“What?”

“You noticed I’m stronger now,” Batman said matter-of-factly, in a way that almost managed to cover up emotion. “That’s his doing. I was…fading, when you met me. Not up to capacity. I’m not really meant to exist that way.” He glanced over at Superman again, as though evaluating his reaction, and Clark wondered if he had really needed to do that—if he really only saw out of his eyes. J’onn could make eyes anywhere he wanted some, but he needed them to see. Batman seemed somehow less constrained by biology than that.

“Is it hurting him?”

“No! No. It…shouldn’t.” Batman ghosted a sigh, voiceless, inhuman as the wind. “I don’t know that it’s good for a child to be around me. But I’m not…taking anything from him. I’m not…feeding on him, if that’s what you think.”

It was what Clark had feared. And probably anything that would eat a child would also lie about it, but Batman was his teammate and very nearly his friend. So it was reassuring to have it so firmly denied. He’d come braced for only a little and no lasting damage and he said it was fine.

“Please,” he said. “Can you explain it to me?”

“I suppose I have to.” Batman tipped his head back, to look up at the few stars that smudged themselves visible through the red blanket of light-polluted smog overhead. Clark could make out more of them, even with his ordinary visible-light vision, than a human could have. He wondered what Batman saw. “Will you tell the others for me? Your little conspiracy?”

“Not Green Lantern and Flash?”

“Hal and Barry can figure me out on their own.” That dry sense of humor was the same, even if it was bending amusement onto a mouth that could no longer pass as human.

A breath Clark suspected he didn’t need was drawn. “A different little boy made me up,” Batman said. “Bruce Wayne. You can look the story up in the newspaper archives.

“It was a little over twenty years ago, in Gotham. A mugger shot his parents in front of him.” Another slanted glance, and then he looked away again. He certainly acted like he needed his eyes to see. “It wasn’t more terrible than things that happen to a hundred other people every day, really. But he was the right kind of terrified and angry, in the right place, at the right moment…the police reports all say he tackled the mugger from behind, and got lucky that the man hit his head. But it was me. I took him down.”

He raised his face back toward the smudged stars. “I was such a small thing, then. If that vengeance had been enough—the killer taken in and sentenced, brought to justice—I would have faded away again. Things like me are summoned and dispelled that way all the time. Or he could have taken me back into himself—the danger was past, it wasn’t a chronic part of his existence, so I would have reintegrated, probably, and not hung around rising up to protect him for the rest of his life, and probably disrupting it in the process.”

That amused quirk to the horizontal slash of a mouth, again. “But it wasn’t enough. Not for him. He clung. He brooded. He wanted to protect everyone. And I grew.” Bittersweet and fond. “I grew until I really could help. Until anyone could see me, any time I liked. Until I was solid enough to get in half a dozen fights in one night without my blows starting to go right through the enemy.”

There was no way Batman was letting him know these things about how he worked, when he wasn’t holding back, by accident. They were being given.

“Where’s Bruce now?” Clark asked. Knowing it was probably a painful topic, but hoping to hear it was some rule of magic out of a storybook, that only a child had the right kind of belief to sustain a projection of this nature. That Bruce Wayne had grown up and moved on and had a career and a family, and perhaps didn’t remember that Batman was something he’d made.

Batman’s eyes closed, and vanished completely into the black of his head. He’d kept unspooling all the while he’d been talking, Clark realized, and the gouts and folds and flame-like flickers of his cape now sprawled over more than half the roof, leaving a great circle of open space around Superman himself, and a broad open route away from Batman, as though he couldn’t just go straight up if he wanted to get away. The billows of it had now collapsed in on themselves. His voice, when he spoke, was hushed and solemn, but calm. “He didn’t make it to sixteen. He died tackling a gunman who’d been holding up a corner store where he happened to be, buying junk food he wasn’t supposed to have. The cashier fumbled the register key and bent over to pick it up, and the man panicked and started shooting. Bruce saved lives, that night. But he didn’t survive. Because I wasn’t there. I was away protecting other people, like he’d asked me to.”

“I’m sorry,” Clark said. Inadequate as always, but more so, when he’d pushed for this truth and didn’t even understand enough to know how to offer comfort. He reached out to offer a comforting, boundary-respecting brief pat on the shoulder, like he might have when he had less idea what Batman was, and his hand hung still in the air, as the face Batman turned toward him was human again, so abruptly that even to his accelerated visual perceptions it looked like some sort of glitch.

“This is his face,” Batman told him, and the grief that hadn’t been in his voice before was worn on it, in the pull of the mouth and the bend of pain around the blank white eyes. He looked like he might cry. “The way he would have looked. He never…grew this far, but…”

“In memory of him, then,” Superman said, soothing, and was able to deliver the pat on the shoulder and withdraw. It sounded like Batman was in some ways the only surviving part of Bruce Wayne, and as such had every right to his appearance, but he clearly didn’t think of himself that way, and it wasn’t Clark’s place to try to alter his self-concept, or even make comment when he’d only just been introduced to it. “That seems appropriate.”

Batman shrugged. It looked very human, except for the way the cape parts of him reacted. “I knew it best.”

Had he held the memory of his…creator’s face in his head, updating it carefully to how he would have looked with every year or month that passed? That couldn’t be healthy. It also might be unavoidable, considering Batman’s origins.

“You went on protecting Gotham, afterward?”

“What else would I do?”

“And you joined us. When Starro came.” Batman nodded, as though that was only obvious. Clark supposed it was—when you were a supernatural entity created to protect human beings, why would you not answer a call to band together with other superpowered beings to save the world? “Why did you pretend?” he asked. “To be…”

“Human?” Batman asked. He snorted in derision, either at Clark’s inability to choose a word or his own deceit. “It wasn’t the first time. I talk to the police like this, sometimes. Witnesses. It reassures people, to be talking to a…person.”

That was the same reason J’onn made himself look more human, even in blatant green—it wasn’t entirely unlike why Clark kept his own life as Clark, why Superman didn’t wear a mask. “But why…” He’d gone to such lengths, to maintain the façade. Human jaw and teeth, sculpted solid to catch X-ray vision behind flesh he’d carefully made permeable to it, when even now with the image of Bruce Wayne’s face restored he wasn’t bothering. Consistent physical proportions. Always running close against the edge of normal human limits, of strength and speed and length of jump—not hanging back, but not throwing himself onto the front line either, contributing as much with tactics and analysis as actual combat. “Why try so hard to convince us?”

Batman shrugged. “I wasn’t holding back that much. I told you. I was fading. I was never meant to last. Once it turned out the team wasn’t a one-time thing, I still didn’t want to go through the whole…process of revelation.”

“But you’re doing it now.” Clark found he was grinding his teeth, because he was putting together a picture he didn’t like. “Because. Now you’re expecting to survive.” Batman had been dying. He hadn’t thought it was worth the stress of being honest with them, because he hadn’t expected to exist long enough for their relationships to matter.

Superman glanced down through the roof at the sleeping children, and one child in particular.

“I wasn’t there in time to save his parents, either,” Batman said, and Clark knew that feeling—all this power and yet you could still arrive too late, and be too little. But Batman was defined by that feeling, founded upon it almost, so it probably struck him deeper. “But I was there afterward. I protected him from the followup attacks, meant to stop him testifying about the sabotage he’d witnessed.

“And he clung to me, whenever I came…I do try to comfort them, especially when it’s children, but usually they’re at least a little bit afraid. He wasn’t. And he didn’t have anyone else to cling to. They wouldn’t let his parents’ friends in to see him more than once, and then they left town. And then, after I came to tell him that Zucco and his men were taken care of for good, when I left I felt the distance opening…I realized I was…his, now.”

There was a strange, wondering ache in the way he said it that made it easy for Clark to repress his own discomfort with the idea of anyone belonging to anyone else, and of something that looked like a grown man asserting an intimate personal bond with an unrelated child. Batman was supposed to belong to a child, it was how he’d been made, and he’d expected to die by inches in the absence of the one who’d made him, and now he suddenly wasn’t. This little orphan was the most precious thing in his world, that was plain, and to Clark at least it was equally plain that he felt a deep guilt at replacing the boy who had been his world before.

He wondered, suddenly, if Batman had ever been this honest with anyone in his existence. Had he been this open even with his Bruce, or had his need to protect led him to put on a front, and conceal every uncertainty?

The pale smudge of Batman’s face was still and remote, and his voice was nearly calm, but the darkness of his cape had spilled out over the whole roof now, and it was gently writhing. The route out for Superman, opposite Batman’s main body, had shrunk to the merest footpath. Was that there out of instinct, or a more conscious courtesy?

“You don’t have to leave that,” Superman said quietly, flipping his thumb toward the corridor of open shingle and beam. “I know you aren’t trying to trap me, and it won’t anyway.”

The path snapped shut almost instantaneously, and a little of the strain in the atmosphere faded—Batman had been holding himself back from encircling him completely only with continuous effort. Why? Did he naturally expand to fill the available space? Or was expanding in the form of the cape an expression of emotion that was uncomfortable to suppress, in the same way it was hard to sit still when you felt anxious, or hold your tongue when you got mad?

His teammate’s whole torso was turned away, now, and this too was easy to read—shame at his own inhumanity. In front of Clark, of all people. But then, Clark made it look easy, didn’t he? It even was easy for him, when it came to things like looking like he fit in.

J’onn should have been the one to come. But it disconcerted him not to be able to pick up anything Batman did not intentionally share—Clark didn’t think he’d learned to read human body language yet, beyond the most obvious things—and Batman had been known to use fire.

“It didn’t seem wise to seem to be trying to threaten you,” Batman said flatly, into the night.

“Thank you,” said Superman, because while he didn’t mind at this point, it would definitely have made him uncomfortable earlier, before Batman had made himself so vulnerable. “Could you, do you think?”

A sidelong look. “You’re less invulnerable to magic,” Batman said. “Probably.”

Something to keep in mind. The Flash was the only teammate he had now that he was reasonably sure he could take three falls out of three. Maybe they could start practicing against each other, if they could find somewhere they could risk making a mess on that scale. Sparring—he and Diana had tried it out, gingerly. If Batman wanted to stretch out his re-expanding powers in a secure environment…

“Do you have any plans, going forward?” Now that he had a future to plan for.

“I have someone who helps me,” Batman replied. “Bruce’s guardian, after his parents died. He wanted to leave Gotham, after…but he stayed. To try to help the city, in Bruce’s memory. And to keep an eye on me.” The amusement this time was bitter. “We don’t really get along. He thinks Bruce died because of me—that I made him feel invulnerable, and then didn’t protect him. He’s projecting. But I suppose that’s what I’m for.”

Clark made a face; he didn’t like the idea of people being for purposes. Even people who’d been made. This wasn’t the time to argue about it. “But he helps you?”

“He helps.” Batman glanced down, toward Dick’s bed, as though once again he could see through the roof. “I’m trying to get him to agree to take Dick in. He did a good job with Bruce, even if he doesn’t think so.”

“Will that be the best for Dick?” Clark asked, as neutrally as he could manage. He could tell Batman’s intentions were good, but he didn’t know if putting a child entirely within the influence of a supernatural being that had latched onto him, without an external line of support, was a good idea. On the other hand, putting him in the care of an adult who would know he wasn’t delusional could only help. And Clark could be the outside support, if necessary—not that he wasn’t under Batman’s influence himself, but he wasn’t within his circle of it the way this Alfred seemed to be, resentment or not. The resentment might be the most dangerous part.

What part of this train of thought Batman sensed, he couldn’t tell, as his comrade only retorted, “It can’t be worse than here!”

A group home with four beds to a room certainly wasn’t the best environment, but surely he couldn’t be here much longer. “Have you talked to him about it?”

“He doesn’t get much privacy. He agreed to meet with Alfred last time he ducked into a closet while I was there, so now Alfred’s the focus of the plan.” Batman sighed again. “He’s so brave,” he said fondly. “It worries me. I wish he were somewhere safe.”

The wild impulse rose to offer to step in, to take the role of legal guardian if this Alfred wouldn’t. Clark sat on it. He didn’t want a child, he wasn’t equipped to care for a child, CPS would be able to see that perfectly well in a single reporter in his 20s living in a one-bedroom apartment in a somewhat run-down building. He didn’t even live in the same state, and child placement was handled on a state-by-state basis so even petitioning for custody would be horrifically involved, never mind obtaining it. Also, he had a secret identity to protect.

He couldn’t always help. The hardest lesson in life, and one he had to keep relearning.

“So your plans are…to get Dick into a safe home environment.”

“And keep him alive,” Batman affirmed. Quick, and firm, and almost not obvious about what a vital goal this was to him. Keeping this child alive, the way he’d failed to keep the one before.

“Of course.” Clark nodded. If everything he’d been told was true—and he thought it was, it felt true—then there was no need for the League to intervene. Gotham was probably safer than it had ever been. “Can I meet him, sometime?” Partly to do his part as an outside support network. Partly because he was curious, to meet this child who’d been able to reach his hand into Batman’s chest and close his fingers around his heart.

Batman glanced over, and then seemed to relax. Even the endless piles of his cape seemed suddenly to behave more like ordinary fabric. “I passed, then?”

“What?” Oh. Of course he’d known. Clark had hardly been sneaky. “Yes.”

“Not that I know what you were planning to do if I hadn’t.”

Clark didn’t know either, other than get Dick away of he seemed to need it.

“All of this is off the record, of course,” Batman added. It was a testament to how distracted Superman was by Batman’s problems that it took a long second for him to realize the potential implications of that choice of words, and read in Batman’s posture and the way his cape had developed hooks of tension in some of its folds that they were entirely intentional.

“How long have you known?” he asked.

“You attended a press event in Gotham two years ago. You still feel like you, no matter how you dress.”

“Well.” Superman tried to shake the sudden tension out of his shoulders. Batman was a good detective and data analyst, that hadn’t changed with the rest of it. He’d certainly tracked down the name of the gentleman from the Planet. “I guess that’s fair. And of course it’s off the record. I won’t even tell J’onn and Diana anything but the basics without your permission.”

“Oh.” Batman clearly hadn’t expected that. “Why?”

“You have a right to your privacy.” Clark thought back over his own approach to the whole situation and said, with a gentleness born somewhat of guilt, “You are a person, after all.”

“I’m really not,” Batman said, corner of his mouth ticking up just slightly to underline the easy irony in his voice. But the great spread of cape had fallen into easier, more geometric wrinkles, and Clark was beginning to learn to trust that over what he said with his borrowed face. Though he could almost definitely lie with the cape part of himself, too, if he needed to.

“Don’t…” His tongue flickered across the back of his teeth; be brave, Kent. “Don’t talk about my friend that way, huh?”

#hoc est meum #my fic #batman #imaginary friend batman #world's finest #somewhat to my surprise #protective batman #inhuman batman #superman #people talking on roofs

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jostenjorts · 3 years

Text

Nathan Wesninski and Mary Hatford HC because suddenly I’m obsessed with them? AU though bc canon them are fucked

The Hatford and Moriyama families are old blood, they go back generations and can be found all over the world with connections in high and low places

So they’re bound to have shared territories that they never bothered to fight over since they were small and irrelevant

That was until multiple targets discover said territories, are made aware that the Hatford’s and Moriyama’s barely touch the ground any longer and overlook it which in turn they make it their safe haven until shit dies down

Only for the Butcher of Baltimore to find out about it and is given orders to go clear out the place

However, due to a rule agreed upon decades ago, a Hatford must accompany him to ensure it was just for a clean up and not to do anything fishy

Which ends with Mary Hatford being selected, as she had the medical knowledge that could be used if needed and had a lot of pent up frustration and anger that needed to be released

Nathan hates that he has to bring along a Hatford, despises how long he had to wait before she showed up and okay maybe his okay with the wait because she’s attractive

He’d heard of Mary Hatford before, how she and her brother Stuart were forces to be reckoned with along with being the current heads children. Nathan was almost sure that he’d met her in passing but only briefly.

Mary only spared him a glance before telling him to hurry up and move his ass along before the targets get word about them coming for them

She knew him, had heard of his talent with knives and had wondered once if he was good in the kitchen

Had wondered if he was good with his hands

It wasn’t until much later when they both got to work, Mary choosing to go round the back and be stealthy about it, taking out all the extra men and women and Nathan making a big show with his entrance to draw attention solely on him

That Mary really looked at him, watched as he grinned when several men dropped to the ground around him, couldn’t help but want to touch him when she took notice of the blood staining his clothes and hair

When she went back to work, she just missed Nathan turning to watch her gut a man, just missed him almost get hit with a bullet because he was too distracted by her

Later, when they were finished up and both covered in blood, compliments were shared between the two as they found themselves in a hotel and washing up

Taking turns using the bathroom but neither bothered closing the door because they were more concerned with washing blood out of their clothes and hair then they were about the other seeing them undressed

Mary ended up needing help with washing the blood out of her hair, since it had crusted over and all she had to work with was water that was barely warm and Nathan hadn’t hesitated to assist

Only if in return she washes his hair and she relented

This ended in them showering together, helping the other scrub at their heads to ensure all the blood was washed out and one thing lead to another

A month later, Mary Hatford was showing up on Nathan’s doorstep, to which he let her in and offered her a cup of tea while he told her to ignore the screams coming from his basement

She did, despite being curious and wanting to go down there and see what kind of creative torture was going on and if someone was down there doing it currently or if Nathan had heard her knocking and done something to leave whoever in pain while he busied himself with her

“Don’t mind them, Lola was bored and someone happened to annoy me. Letting her take out her boredom on him.”

“Whose Lola?”

“No one important. Anyway, what brings you here?”

“I have some news to share,”

Though Nathan was pleased to see Mary, after all it had been a month and since their sexual encounter all he thought of was her

How he wanted to run his fingers through her hair, wished to see her take her time killing someone, wanted to witness her be flustered over something he would say

Oh how he wished but she wasn’t his and unlike him, Mary is part of the main branch in her family, is the daughter of the current Head of the Hatford’s

Whereas Nathan was just the right hand man to the Head of the Moriyama’s.

However, hearing those words had him on edge, his heard them so many times in his lifetime and they’ve never meant good fortune on his behalf

“This should be lovely, whats the news?”

He had a drink of his tea, watching as Mary rubbed the side of her cup and flicked her eyes towards the basement door before they settled on him

“I’m pregnant, a month along at that and you’re the last man I slept with so-“

He was on her in an instant, claiming her lips with his own

Couldn’t help himself and went to pull away to apologise, only she returned the kiss and laughed, dropping her empty cup into her lap so that she could cup his face in her hands

“Glad to know you took the news well”

“Hm now all thats left to do now is to know if you’ll be mine”

“Well, I’m sure there’s nicer ways to asks but our first date was rather exciting.”

“Which part? the killing or the shower?”

“Both, shame a dinner wasn’t involved.”

He laughed, sitting besides her and trying to wrap his head around that he was going to be a father

“Would that be a yes then?”

“Yes, Nathan. I’ll be yours so long as you’ll be mine.”

“Of course I’ll be yours, Mary Hatford and hopefully one day to be Wesninski.”

#please its midnight #this was on a whim #mary hatford #nathan wesninski #aftg #all for the game #andreil #andrew minyard #dan wilds #kevin day #neil josten #nicky hemmick #renee walker #matt boyd #allison reynolds #tfc #nathaniel wesninski

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

immovable object.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: happy birthday aaron hotchner!! here’s a little something i cooked up, just for y’all who wanted to see something from aaron’s point of view. i figured a birthday would be as good a time as any to share a little bit of aaron’s head, even if it’s not his (actual) age this year. as always, i love to hear what you think! takes place au!november 2018

words: 2.3k warnings: language, implication of sex, light drinking/alcohol use

summary: “the years between fifty and seventy are the hardest. you are always being asked to do things, and yet you are not decrepit enough to turn them down.” - t.s. elliot

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

Fifty.

Aaron wasn’t sure where he’d be by fifty. He’d only had loose examples over the course of his life, as his father kicked it before he got to that point. But then again…

His father never appreciated what he had. Two sons, different to the point of extremity, a wife who loved him even through all his (many) shortcomings, and a big house in northern Virginia that he could afford with his very plush salary working on The Hill as a prosecutor. Nevertheless, he drank himself to death at forty-seven.

So…

Where am I at fifty?

He looks down into his lap, finding Caroline tucked into the crook of his elbow with a hand in her mouth while they sit in his armchair. She’s teething now, but she isn’t half as unbearable about it as Isaac.

Isaac.

Aaron scans the room, finding his son with Spencer and Hank at the formal dining room table. Spence has them both in his lap and reads aloud from whatever Russian novel he’s flying through. As Aaron listens closer, he realizes Spencer is translating as he goes, reading the book in English.

Tolstoy should be fine for toddlers...right?

Another scan sends him to you, sitting on the floor with a bottle and a spit-up rag, Sophia snarfing down her afternoon snack like it’s her job.

You find his eyes, double-taking a little. What?

Nothing. Aaron’s mouth presses into an amused little line.

With a fond roll of your eyes, you turn back into the conversation with Sean and Derek.

And that’s another thing.

Aaron never expected to really have his brother in his life as an adult. To his surprise, it's a rather pleasant change of circumstance. Once he moved out of New York and back to Virginia, Sean really got his act together. The arrival of his second nephew didn’t hurt. At your behest, Aaron called him in Isaac’s first weeks, inviting him over to meet the new addition. He feels silly now, for starting a spat with you about it in the moment. It’s not easy, but it’s good.

He’s the first one to admit that you did most of the heavy lifting, leveraging your similar age and propensity to draw flocks of the struggling and confused.

Your Honor, I’d like to present Exhibit A in regard to struggling and confused - Aaron Benjamin Hotchner - before the court.

He laughs down his nose at his own train of thought. Caroline fusses, but once she’s sitting up in his lap, one of his hands across the entirety of her chest and little belly, she’s happy.

Will she continue to insist on seeing everything? Will she always be so quiet?

There’s something about Caroline’s eyes, even as they continue to settle into their permanent color, that is inherently wise. He knows, logically, that Caroline and Sophia are near-identical, but neither of you have ever had any trouble telling them apart.

If someone asked, he wouldn’t be able to articulate the differences. He just knows.

Aaron almost startles when you appear at his side, Sophia freshly burped and smooshed against your shoulder.

“You look pensive.” It’s a gentle accusation.

Aaron snorts. “It’s my birthday. I’m allowed to be pensive.” He holds Caroline up for a minute and you accept the invitation, planting yourself in his lap. Sophia’s still in your arms, so it’s a bit crowded, but nevertheless, you swing your legs over the arm of the chair and melt against Aaron’s chest.

The girls, of course, are delighted to see each other and make a happy, babbling pair sitting on your abdomen and thighs, watching all the action in the living room.

Aaron presses a kiss to your head and just for another second wonders how he got so lucky.

“Hey. Quit.”

He looks down, meeting your eyes. “What?”

You look at him, soft and affectionate. “You’ll never stop, will you?”

“Probably not.” He adjusts again so he can cradle you in his arm while he keeps the girls stable with his free hand. “But that’s why I’ve got you.”

“Unstoppable force meets immovable object?”

Aaron squints, making play at thinking. “Wasn’t that on our wedding announcements?”

You huff a laugh and pat his chest twice. “Maybe it should have been.”

Realistically, he knows he should be out socializing with everyone there to celebrate him and the fifty years he’s lived (only a couple of them in dog years), but he can’t bring himself to care. His cheek rests against your head, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm. Caroline has the other one of his hands, playing with his fingers (and putting those in her mouth, too) while Sophia sits back against him, threatening sleep.

But really, nobody minds. They’re all having too much fun off the clock, with children of their own. Derek and Savannah lounge in the rec room, watching Tara, Sean, Will, Jack, and Henry play Mario Kart. Not far off is Kristy, wiping illicit frosting off her oldest son’s cheek before he rejoins the boys on the makeshift tournament arena.

Matt, Dave, and Emily are gathered around the kitchen island, their wine glasses never far from their hands. JJ flits between the groups, her puttering instincts inescapable even outside of her domain.

Luke and Penelope pretend they aren’t following each other from room to room, activity to activity. They are horrible actors, and Aaron wonders if the kid will ever pluck up the guts to do something about it.

You didn’t.

That doesn’t count.

Yes, it does.

JJ finally comes to rest beside Emily, propping herself up by her elbows as she sits backward on one of the barstools. “I’d never thought I’d see Hotch so happy.”

Emily looks over her shoulder. What does she see?

She sees a man she’s known her entire career at the bureau, a man who hand-picked her to replace him when it was time for him to leave his post as unit chief, a man who lost almost everything and somehow found it again.

She watches as Aaron says something to you, a wicked kind of humorous glint in his eye. She watches as you let out a loud laugh, accidentally startling your daughters in your lap. She watches as the girls process and pick up on their mother’s joy and start to shriek and clap.

She watches Aaron live.

“I dunno,” Emily says, finally. “I always thought those two might make it if they faced themselves.”

JJ humphs in the irony of it. “That’s a lot to ask.”

“And yet -”

“- Somehow, they’ve managed.” JJ looks to her own family just in time to see Will taking advantage of the high ceiling, throwing Michael into the air and catching him. “It’s kind of funny, how things work out.”

“I can’t believe he’s fifty.” Emily’s non-sequitur drops into JJ’s thoughts, which were rapidly devolving into the abstract. “It doesn’t seem right.”

Dave taps Emily on the shoulder, reminding her he’s been there the whole time. “You’re in your late forties, I might remind you.”

A kind of dissatisfied noise leaves her throat. “Thanks.” She turns, looking at him with a glare that could cut glass, but all in play. “Thanks for that.”

“Just doing my civic duty.”

Emily rolls her eyes and stands, wandering farther into the kitchen to pilfer a bag of animal crackers from the snack drawer.

“Alright!” Penelope calls from the kitchen archway. “It’s time for cake!”

That gets the attention of all the children in the vicinity who have experienced the unadulterated joy of Aunt Penelope’s buttercream frosting.

Aaron tolerates the attention as you and the girls get shuffled (or in your case, shuffle yourself) off his lap. Emily takes Caroline while Savannah has Sophia. A quick glance finds Isaac on Dave's hip. With a little bit of a start, he realizes just how big his family is. They’re all here.

For each other.

For him.

Soon enough, Penelope brings the cake - candles all lit (and no, there are not fifty of them - that was a hard no from the birthday boy) and places it in front of Aaron at the head of the dining room table.

You kiss him on the cheek, distracting him while you put a ridiculous party hat on his head. You can almost feel his eye roll and you hear a few phone cameras click. Of course, shortly after, everyone starts singing at him - horrifically out of pace and key, but it’s perfect.

He’s confronted with the back of a few more phones as parents and friends snap pictures out of habit. He reaches out to snag you around the waist and you end up half-sitting on the arm of his chair.

You loop your arms around his neck, leaning into his side. “Make a wish.”

After one slow blink and a deep breath, he blows out the candles to whoops and hollers and baby shrieks.

Your eyes snap up out of instinct, finding Isaac covering his ears and looking more and more alarmed by the minute. You toss another kiss onto Aaron’s forehead and quickly take Isaac from Dave, traveling down the hall with practiced haste.

If he’s honest, Aaron forgot. He should have grabbed Isaac’s headphones from your office, but he didn’t. He should have warned his son about the loud noises and all the people before they overwhelmed him, but he didn’t. He should have remembered that his son needed more thought and attention than the others, but he didn’t.

He hides his self-directed frustration well, but it doesn’t take long for him to make a quick and subtle escape. He knows the girls are just fine. Emily has Caro well in-hand and Savannah is always looking for an excuse to practice with the girls. She’s due in February, looking radiant and lovely.

In a near-whisper, he calls for you and Isaac as he tracks down the hall on light feet. He hears you murmur, then Isaac’s voice: “Here, Dad,” guides him into your office, where you’re stationed on the floor under your desk.

Isaac’s playing with the soft carpet chosen especially for him, his little fingers getting lost in the plush fabric. Aaron kneels down and rests his forearms on the ground, searching for Isaac’s eyes.

“Hey, little man.”

He hums.

That’s a good thing.

Aaron puts his hand on the carpet, about three inches away from Isaac’s. He can see it, but it’s not touching him, communicating his presence without sensation.

You meet Aaron’s eyes over Isaac’s head. Not your fault.

He shoots you a withering look.

I’m serious, Aaron. You raise your eyebrows and shake your head. Not your fault. We’re okay. Your eyes flicker to Isaac before returning to Aaron. He’s okay.

Aaron watches as you arc your body around him, getting close but not too close, running your fingers through the carpet on either side of him. Aaron wiggles his own fingers, sinking deeper into the blue shag. To his surprise, it calms him a little.

Little Man might be onto something here.

Eventually, Isaac leans back into you, and you slowly bring your hands to his hair, massaging his scalp with the tips of your fingers. You look at Aaron and nod once.

He takes his cue. As always, he’s in awe of your command over Isaac’s needs. With a breath, and very quietly, he asks. “Are you feeling better, little man?”

His eyes still on the carpet, he nods. “Just loud.”

“Yeah. It was pretty loud.” He looks up to the bookshelf, spotting his headphones on their charger. “Do you want to go back to the living room, maybe with your ears on? Or do you want to stay in here?”

The boy stills, thinking. In the two years he’s known his son, the turning of gears in Isaac’s little head enamors and amazes him. He can almost see their spokes behind his eyes. After a minute or so -

“Living room, but only for a little while.”

You kiss him lightly on the top of his head, where the band of the headphones rests. “Do you want your ears?”

He nods and Aaron rises, bringing the headphones back down. Isaac puts them on and wiggles a little where he sits. Aaron likes to imagine it’s his way of settling back into his body.

Much to the surprise of everyone present, Isaac reaches out to Aaron. With soft eyes, he takes his son in his arms, letting him wrap like a koala around his neck and chest.

The three of you return, finding everyone still milling about, eating cake, and sharing space together. Jack, catching sight of you, jogs over. “Is Isaac okay?”

You nod, brushing the hair off Jack’s forehead. “Yeah, bud. It just got a little overwhelming for a minute.”

It’s been eleven years of you and Jack, but it never gets old for Aaron. The way you are with each other - somehow balancing a parent-child relationship with a steadfast best-friendship - constantly surprises and warms him.

Jack nods, circling around so he can get into Isaac’s eye line. He waves a little, and Isaac waves back, lifting his hand briefly from Aaron’s collar. Jack offers a fist, and Isaac reaches out to tap it with three of his fingers.

Aaron closes his eyes, taking it in.

+++

“So,” you say, tucking into bed beside him. “Fifty.”

“So,” He doesn’t pull his eyes from his book. “Thirty-six.” He throws you a side-eye, immediately noticing the playful glint in your eye. “Don’t start.”

You raise your eyebrows, the picture of innocence. “Start what? I’m just appreciating my loving and handsome and thoughtful and distinguished husband on his birthday.” You scoot and shift, straddling him. “Are you gonna let me?”

That gets his attention. Keeping his eyes on you, he markes his place and sets the book on his bedside table. “I might.”

You lean down, pressing your lips to his, speaking quietly against his mouth, like a secret. “Happy Birthday, my love.”

If anyone asked, Aaron loved his present.

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @zizzlekwum @lcvischmitt @qvid-pro-qvo @mandylove1000 @simsiddy @jeor @synonymforlame @roses-and-grasses @bwbatta @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @cevanswhre @joanofarkansass @infinity1321 @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @spencerelds @ssahotchnerr @this-broken-band-girl @winqhster @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @the-falling-in-the-danger @nattylite49 @crazyshannonigans @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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yournotsolocalcryptid · 3 years

Note

Hello!!! Could you do anything Ben related? We need more Ben concepts in this site 🤧

Thank you!!

Sure can!

this was sposta be a quick blurb/concept but it got away from me and is now one of the longest fics I've ever written lol

fake it 'till ya make it

pairing(s): Ben Hardy x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings: sexual themes throughout, avert your eyes, children! 18+. this is barely edited and barely proofread so yeah... I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

Word count: 1.6k

You and Ben have been neighbors for going on a year now and you’d always been friendly, greeting each other when you pass, helping the other carry in their groceries and so on and so forth but most recently every time you spoke, no matter how briefly you ended up commiserating over your new neighbor. A few months ago a man had moved into the apartment closest to both you and Ben. he seemed to always be partying, yelling at the TV, fighting with his girlfriend all of which was predated by or immediately followed by sex with the fakest moans and fakest orgasms you’d ever heard.

You and Ben had joked once or twice about it and had felt bad that she was having to fake it but before too long most of your sympathy had gone, especially after an encounter with her in the hall. You and Ben were speaking quietly and joking around a bit when you heard the door open and you both instinctually looked up to see her leaving his apartment. You both went back to your conversation immediately as you had no reason to keep staring at her or to converse with her. As she passed she glared at you two and you heard her harshly mumbling something about how you two should just fuck already and some not nice words but he was too far away at that point to catch more than a word here and there. You and Ben looked at each other eyebrows raised in surprise before dissolving into giggles.

A few weeks of the same things over and over again went by and one day they were having another very loud fight about seemingly nothing when you heard a knocking on your door.

You peered through the peephole and immediately opened the door when you saw Ben. the second the door was open he said “I have an idea”

You stepped aside to let him in and he plopped down on your sofa. Ben looked around and said, “do you realize I’ve never been in your flat before?”

“Ben?”

He hummed still glancing around

“You had an Idea?’

“Oh, yeah. I think we should shag, or rather simulate shagging”

“Okay…” you sat down next to him, “I think I’m gonna need more information”

Ben goes on to explain his idea which was, in short, to give them a taste of their own medicine and fake a fight and then fake having sex, loud fake moans and all. When he was done with his explanation - which was lengthened by some nervous rambling- you asked,

“Do you think it would work?”

To which he replied with a shrug and “who knows but I think it’s worth a shot”

You somewhat hesitantly agreed and by the time the two of you hatched your plan and discussed some of the finer details whatever hesitance you had was long gone.

So the next time you heard her fake as fuck moaning you knocked on Ben’s door, gulping nervously, and when he appeared you started loudly hurling insults his way which he skillfully reciprocated. As the two of you shouted you wandered his flat, looking at all the things you’ve never seen before having never made it past his front door before. It became increasingly difficult to hold it together and not laugh as this went on. At one point, you heard her moans falter you both started grinning as you continued to “rage” at the tops of your voices. Not too long after that, you heard the “moaning” stop and a few moments later the man said loudly “well what do you want me to do about it?! It’s not my fucking fault they’re arguing now is it?”

When you’d talked this out you had agreed to argue a few minutes after they started arguing then you’d move on to… the next bit. This was the part that made you really nervous. Ben is a gorgeous guy it’s not hard to pretend to be attracted to him but pretending to be having sex with him, trying to make it sound real… that’s the challenge.

“Ugh you’re so infuriating!” ben shouted which was the cue to switch over. But you froze when Ben asked very quietly, “can I kiss you?”

Your eyes flicked to his with your mouth slightly agape. You were completely taken aback.

Ben walked to you “can I kiss you?” he asked again his face inches from yours “I’ve faked sex before but never a kiss. Kissing in films may include faked emotions but the kisses themselves are actually happening” his tone was light and quippy but there was something more in his eyes.

You nodded and your lips touched. The kiss was sweet, then rougher as he got back into character. You broke apart after a moment and he left you breathless where you stood, headed to his bedroom. You drifted after him and found him crawling onto his bed and placing his hands on the headboard.

He glanced back at you and said, “come here love. if we move right the bed will creak and the headboard will hit the wall” you joined him on the bed a mimicked his position. “Ready?”

You nodded and you both started rhythmically shifting to simulate the classic creaky bed, headboard thumping you hear and see in films. Then, you and ben started sighing and moaning and swearing and just generally be as loud as you could. You glanced and ben and found him already looking at you and you both grinned widely and bit back laughter as you kept rocking and getting louder and more obnoxious with your noises. You could hear your neighbors yelling again but you were lost in this ridiculous moment with this ridiculous man and you were enjoying every minute of it. Ben was captivating, his eyes glimmered with joy and mischief, his pink lips were parted from grinning and groaning, and while you didn’t know it, he was just as immersed in you as you were in him.

“Ready for the big finale?” he asked again quite quietly so only you could hear

You nodded again and let out a loud “fuck yes! Ben!” and quietly to him “let’s end this with a bang”

You both started rocking more erratically but still in sync and your sounds followed suit. You slowed and gave a few slow hard rocks, making sure the headboard hit the wall, Ben let out a final raspy groan and you both collapsed back onto his bed. You lay, looking up at the ceiling with only the sound of heavy breathing filling the room. You looked over at Ben just to find him already staring at you and you both broke out into a fit of giggles.

You lay in your bed that night unable to sleep. You found yourself thinking of Ben and that kiss and what he’d sound like when really having sex. Was he really that vocal? Was that final groan anything like what he sounded like when he cums? Your mind wandered and it wouldn’t stop. You glanced at the time, 1 am. Then again, 2:30. You pulled your covers back and slid out of bed. You hesitated as you reached for the handle on your front door, then continued to Bens and knocked. After a few moments, the door swung open revealing a disheveled Ben, wearing a white t-shirt and boxers, and from the glow of his TV, you knew he couldn't sleep either. Neither of you said anything for a while, then you stepped forward so you were chest to chest, his hands cupped your jaw and your lips connected.

Ben took a few steps back and you went with him, your lips still moving with his. You reached out blindly behind you until you found the door and swung it shut. You tugged on Ben’s shirt as his hands were making their way to your ass. He retracted his hands, broke the kiss, and pulled his shirt over his head. His hands went to the hem of your shirt, then he paused and looked at you, his question clear in his eyes. You nodded and he pulled your shirt off as well. Stepped back for a moment, taking your body in, then his lips were on yours once again and his hands gripped your ass. You had a hand in the hair on the back of his head and the other was wandering steadily lower. It slid down his chest and down his abdomen but when you reached the waistband of his boxers you hesitated and he noticed.

“Touch me” he whispered against your lips “please”

And your hand continued on its path, slipping down the front of his boxers and softly down his length. You wrapped your hand around him and the most delicious sound slipped from him. A mix between a whine and a moan, a groan and a plead for more. And the look on his face as you touched him… you hoped to never forget that expression of pleasure and want. Then his head dropped to your shoulder with another beautiful groan.

“Ben?” you murmured “take me to bed”

He complied, directing you in the direction of his bedroom as you walked backward this time, each of you too desperate to let go of the other. His lips reattached to yours as your legs hit the edge of the bed.

“Lie down,” he said, his lips brushing yours as he spoke “let me taste you”

Your knees went weak and you did as requested. His lips trailed down your torso and he pulled your underwear down your legs, pressing kisses to your inner thigh then finally focusing where you needed his attention most and this time, the sounds emanating from you weren’t fake at all.

writing tags: @transeliot

wanna be added to or removed from my writing tags? just lemme know :)

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let-the-dream-begin · 3 years

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 30: Family

Chapter 29

Read on AO3

November 27th

Jamie felt a flutter of excitement as he rang the doorbell to the Abernathy home. It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving, and neither doctor had had the day off on Thursday. Claire had mentioned they’d done exactly this last year. Claire had casually asked if Jamie wanted to make a pie or pick one up, and he’d stared at her, bewildered.

“Ehm...fer what?”

Claire eyed him as if he’d asked what color the sky was. “For Thanksgiving?”

“Oh! I...thought ye spent it wi’ Joe’s family...”

She blinked at him like he had two heads. “Yes. And you’re coming.”

And that was that.

This was a big step for them as a couple, as a potential family, and Jamie knew it. He knew better than to make a big deal out of it to Claire, but that simple assumption that of course he’d be celebrating with Claire’s adopted family had made him fit to burst with joy. The next day, Jamie had texted her:

speaking of holidays and families, how do you feel about spending christmas with mine?

She’d replied hours later, likely during her first break of the day:

I’d absolutely love to.

So they were there now. They were officially bringing each other “home for the holidays.” Well, Jamie’s family was coming here to avoid putting Faith through air travel, but still. If somebody had asked Jamie last Thanksgiving or last Christmas if he’d ever imagined this, with her, with them, he’d have told them they were crazy.

That morning, they’d gone to see Moana. The local movie theater did half-priced tickets before noon, and the movie had come out the day before Thanksgiving. Jamie had told Claire that he and his family always went to the cinema on Christmas Eve and Boxing Day; since the closest one to Lallybroch was an hour away, it was a special occasion. Claire had immediately lit up, declaring that they had to go on Thanksgiving. Rather, their makeshift Thanksgiving. Claire had never actually brought Faith to the movies before, but the place was empty aside from one other family, so it was perfect. She was in heaven. She was absolutely enthralled by the hugeness of the screen, the colors, the music. They’d sat near the front in the wider aisle where the railing was, meant for handicapped viewers, so Faith could run around or lean on the railing, dangling Horsie over the edge with her mouth agape. Claire had bought the album on iTunes on the way home, anticipating that Faith would want to play the music all day, and she’d been right. Jamie already knew almost every word to “How Far I’ll Go.” He wondered if it would hold up against “Let it Go” for Faith, but only time would tell.

A gust of November wind brought Jamie back to the moment, and the front door opened to reveal Joe, white teeth flashing against his dark skin in a radiant grin.

“Ah, there he is!” Joe enthusiastically clapped Jamie on the shoulder with one hand, and shook Jamie’s hand with the other. “It is so good to have you here, Jamie.”

“Hello to you too,” Claire said wryly.

“Come on, I see you all the time,” Joe said. At that moment, Faith slipped right out of Claire’s grip and bounded inside, humming loudly and flapping her hands wildly.

Claire rolled her eyes at both Faith’s escape and Joe. Jamie watched with amusement as Gail appeared at the end of the hallway and exclaimed in surprise as Faith barreled into her.

“Sweet Jesus!”

Joe ushered Jamie, Claire, and Angus, leash held by Claire, into the house.

“Well it’s nice to see you, crazy bean!” Gail said, laughing, and Faith disappeared into the living room. “Dee-Dee! They’re here, and Faith is looking for you!”

Jamie handed off the pie (that he’d made from scratch, of course) to Gail, and insisted on helping her finish with the hors d'oeuvres and the drinks. Faith darted about, in and out of the rooms, until the pitter-patter of little feet coming down the stairs had her running back into the hallway. By the time all the adults were settled with finger foods and drinks, Delia and Faith were already in the corner of the room, engaged with dolls and a little house. Even Faith’s Horsie was involved in the game, of course.

“They did this last year too,” Claire said as they sat down on the couch. “We got here and Dee-Dee had a whole spread. It was adorable.”

“She does it every time she knows she’s coming over,” Gail said.

“Aye, I remember her at Faith’s party; she’s a sweet one,” Jamie said fondly.

“Thanks,” Gail said.

“And that one got so big!” Claire exclaimed, looking at Lenny, sat in his own corner with a tablet. “Last Thanksgiving he still looked like a baby.”

“Four years old, you believe that?” Joe said, shaking his head.

“Oh, I believe it,” Claire said, eyeing Faith. “They grow too fast.”

“Oh my gosh, Claire, I never even asked.” Gail said, putting down her drink. “Faith started school!”

“Yeah, she did.”

“You were scared shitless,” Gail dropped her voice to a low whisper.

Claire chuckled. “Yes, I certainly was.”

Jamie put his hand lightly on Claire’s knee, and she took it, seemingly without thinking about it. They laced their fingers together with practiced ease, and Jamie squeezed.

“You mentioned at work the first day went okay,” Joe said. “How’s she been since then?”

“Really good, actually,” Claire said. Jamie could feel the warmth of glowing pride radiating from her. “She stopped having any bathroom problems, finally, and she hasn’t had to call home or either of us at work in a while. Which is good, because it’s hard when I’m at the hospital or if Jamie’s with a client...but I think we’re finally past that.”

“That’s great,” Gail said.

“I can tell she still doesn’t really love it. It’s a bit of a fight to get her on the bus after a weekend or a break. Monday should be really fun,” she rolled her eyes, “but she’s doing it. She’s getting her stickers when she earns them and prizes and after school treats.”

“Claire is doing all the right things,” Jamie cut in. “It’s hard to motivate her sometimes, but as long as she’s on the bus in the morning, then we’ve done all we can do.”

“Right,” Gail said.

“Remember after Labor Day when she would not get on, no matter what I did?”

“Aye, I do. I had to leave the stables to try to get her on myself.”

“I couldn’t believe the driver waited that long.” Claire covered her face and shook her head at the memory. “If that never happens again, it’ll be too soon.”

The adults shared a quiet laugh.

“I see she’s got a communication device now?” Joe said, gesturing to the tablet resting next to Faith. “The school provides that?”

“Yeah,” Claire said. “She’s been getting more and more comfortable with it lately. She still signs for her basic needs, and Mummy, but she loves being able to say ‘Angus,’ and all your names, and Gillian’s name, and Jamie’s. I don’t want her to lose the signing, but this is a great additional tool.”

“Yeah, of course,” Gail said. “I saw that video on Facebook that you posted, when she first figured out the ‘Mummy’ button.”

“Oh, yeah,” Claire smiled fondly at the memory, and so did Jamie. When it had first clicked for Faith that there was a word on her device for every sign, she could not get enough of saying “Mummy,” calling out to her beloved mother in a brand new way. “She did the same thing to Jamie the next time we saw him.”

“Over and over,” Jamie confirmed. “It was sweet.”

“Until the third hour,” Claire said, and Jamie could tell she was only half-kidding. He didn’t blame her at all.

Jamie was about to ask about how Delia was doing in school, how pre-k was for Lenny, when Joe spoke again.

“How are you guys?” He raised both of his eyebrows coyly. “I mean, it seems like it’s...going really well. Yeah?”

Jamie watched a blush creep up Claire’s neck and touch her cheeks with color. She flashed her eyes at Jamie, who felt warmth spreading from head to toe.

“We’re great,” Jamie answered, looking into Claire’s eyes and raising her fingers to his lips. “Really great.”

——

December 17th

As Claire approached the door to Jamie’s apartment, shopping bag and leash in one hand, Faith’s hand in the other, she heard a loud shriek from the other side of the door. Faith let go of Claire’s hand to clamp her hands over her ears, and Claire’s stomach dropped.

Off to a great start.

Claire was nervous beyond all reason to meet Jamie’s family. They’d gotten off the plane from Scotland two days ago, wanting to give themselves plenty of time before the holidays, and wanting to meet Claire and Faith at least once before then. Jamie decided on a little pizza party at his place.

Claire begged and pleaded with Faith to calm down, but she would not move until presented with her headphones. Claire sighed in defeat and put them on her. She knew deep down that Jamie’s family would bear no judgement on her in the slightest, but she really hadn’t wanted their first impression of her and her daughter to be flustered mother of an irritable daughter.

The door opened while Claire was still kneeling on the ground, and she looked up in a panic, relief washing over her to see that it was only Jamie.

“Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly. “Wee Jamie is a bit of an imp.”

Claire stood up, laughing nervously. “Oh, hi, sorry.” She tried taking Faith’s hand again, but Faith recoiled, reaching up to Jamie instead. Claire rolled her eyes upward, and Jamie grinned.

“Aye, alright, let’s get ye in out of the cold.” He obliged Faith, lifting her up and settling her on his hip, leading the way into the apartment. Faith rubbed her cheek against Jamie’s, delighting in the stubble, and Claire peered around Jamie to see the face that she’d come to be so familiar with but had never actually seen in person. Jenny was sitting on the couch feeding star-shaped puffs to a toddler, and the just as familiar Ian was holding a little boy over his shoulder.

“Everyone,” Jamie announced. “This is Claire. And this is Faith.”

Jenny launched herself off the couch and handed the baby off to Ian, who expertly handled holding both children at once.

“It’s great to finally meet ye, Claire,” Jenny said, throwing her arms around her in a bone crushing hug.

Claire started in surprise at first, but then returned the embrace. Her embrace was warm, soft and solid all at once, much like Jamie. She was wearing an oversized cream sweater, similar to Claire’s own white cable-knit turtleneck. “Hi, I’m so glad to finally meet you, too.”

“I’m Jenny, as ye probably guessed,” she went on, pulling away from the embrace, but keeping a hand on one of Claire’s shoulders. “That’s my husband, Ian.”

“Hallo,” Ian gestured with his chin in greeting. “This heathen is Wee Jamie,” he turned around to show Claire his face, given that his feet were previously facing her, “and this is Maggie.” He turned back around.

“Great to meet you, all three of you,” Claire said, laughing.

Just then, Claire noticed the man that had appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling down at her. Everything about him was warmth, strength, and comfort.

“Claire,” he said, his voice deep and laced with the deepest affection.

“Hi,” Claire said sheepishly, her smile hurting her cheeks. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mister Fraser. Jamie speaks so highly of you.”

“Och, I’ll no’ have ye calling me that. Ye’ll call me Brian, Da, whatever ye’re comfortable with.” He stepped in toward her and pulled her in for a hug that was somehow tighter than Jenny’s. “Ye’re family, lass.”

Claire squeezed him back, this man she had just met, and tears pinpricked her eyes.

My family.

Brian pulled away and gripped her shoulders, looking into her face. “Christ, my heart’s full to see ye.”

“Let her breathe, Da,” Jenny chided. “Here, let me take this. And give yer coats to Ian.” Jenny took the paper bag of crisps and cookies in Claire’s hand like this was her own home and disappeared with it into the kitchen.

Ian put little Jamie down and pointed a threatening finger at him, and the boy grinned impishly as his father took Claire’s coat, then Faith’s, from Jamie.

“Hi!” he burst to Claire. “Are ye my Auntie now?”

“Oh, I…”

“Jamie…”

“Oi, why d’ye no’ play wi’ the Wii, lad,” Jamie cut in. The boy bounced with excitement, planting his bottom on the coffee table right in front of the tellie. “Quietly, now,” Jamie warned, setting up a game for him with Faith in his arms all the while. She refused to be put down.

“That’s her, then? Wee Faith?” Brian watched as Jamie shifted her to his other hip after finishing setting up Jamie’s game.

“Yes, that’s my girl,” Claire answered, pride warming her chest.

“Beautiful,” Brian breathed, beaming at her as Jamie approached his father. “Yer spitting image.”

“Thank you,” Claire said. She stroked Faith’s cheek, who was still rubbing her face and arms against Jamie’s stubbled jaw.

Brian hummed in amusement. “Willie used to do that to me,” he said. “It’s comforting to them.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” Claire’s eyes flicked nervously to Jamie, but he seemed alright. Perhaps they spoke fondly of Jamie’s brother often. She’d have to get used to that.

Jenny flitted back in from the kitchen and chided her brother for letting her son play with brain-rotting video games, but Jamie just rolled his eyes and sat down, Angus settling at his feet at attention for Faith.

“I didn’t even know you had a Wii,” Claire said, sitting down beside him.

“Aye, well,” he winked, “how else would I kick yer arse in Mario Kart?”

Claire snorted quietly and fought the urge to swat at his arm in front of his family. Ian sat down next to Jamie with Maggie, Brian sat on the leather recliner in the corner, and Jenny sat on the edge of the coffee table facing the couch.

“So! This is the wee lass I’ve heard so much about?” Jenny beamed at Faith.

“Aye, she canna hear ye just now wi’ these on; wee Jamie gave her a fright.”

“Och, I’m so sorry,” Jenny said. “I did try to explain to him — ”

“No, it’s okay. He's so young.”

“Aye, and a menace to society already.” Jenny rolled her eyes, and Claire chuckled. “I’m just grateful he didna make a run fer the dog. He retained that from our talk at least.”

She was obviously referring to the fact that when Angus was working, he could not be pet. Claire did catch a few longing glances at the animal from the little boy, but he was being very good.

After a few minutes, with Angus’s help, Jamie managed to coax Faith into taking the headphones off.

“There you go, good girl,” Claire praised. “She’d never take them off without Jamie here. He’s absolutely wonderful with her.”

“Aye, and she’s quite taken wi’ him as well,” Jenny said smiling at the way Faith was nuzzled into his neck.

“We’ve a…special bond,” Jamie said, his eyes twinkling. “Aye, princess?” He bounced her on his knee, and she giggled.

“Look, lass, this is Jenny,” Jamie said. “Can ye say hi?”

She buried her face further.

“She’s very shy,” Claire explained. “Strangers are a little tricky. But I promise the more she’s with you, the better it gets. Even Jamie was a scary stranger at some point. Right, lovie?”

Jenny and Ian laughed softly.

“I really appreciate you all coming here,” Claire said. “It can’t be easy traveling with little ones.”

“Och, ’twas nae bother,” Ian said. “Glad to do it.”

“We hardly ever get to see Jamie’s place anyway,” Jenny added. “We’ve only been to the Island…what, once or twice before?” Ian nodded in confirmation. “It’s nice to see the life he’s made here. And the stables are just great.”

“Aye, we’re very proud of the work Jamie does,” Brian cut in, the pride oozing out of his every feature.

“You should be. He’s…he’s got a special touch with those kids,” Claire said, unable to stop the heart eyes she knew she was giving Jamie. “He changes lives. I know he changed Faith’s, and mine for that matter. Even before, well…this.” She blushed, realizing she was rambling. Jamie reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, likely sensing her embarrassment.

“Aye, well it’s good ye ken how lucky ye are,” Jenny said. “Ye’ll no’ find a better man than my brother.”

“Christ, Janet…” It was Jamie’s turn to turn scarlet.

“I’m being nice, Jamie! I could go on instead about how difficult ye are to live with…”

“Claire doesna need a speech about treating me right,” he said. “She’s doing just fine.”

“That wasna what I meant.”

But given the look that Ian shot her, that was indeed what she’d meant. Though a little uncomfortable, Claire did not blame her. Jamie was her little brother after all, and Claire knew by now how deeply he felt things, how sensitive he was. Somebody cruel could tear him to pieces.

“It’s okay,” Claire cut in. “I know what you meant.” She squeezed Jamie’s hand.

“Aye, good. Well, it’s no’ as if it doesna go both ways. When Jamie sent me yer Facebook profile, I gave him an earful about how damned lucky he was,” Jenny said, and Claire bit her lip to stifle a grin.

“Janet…”

“What! Ye’re embarrassed? I couldna very well meet her. No shame in sending me something to get to know her by!”

If Jamie could have melted into the couch, Claire was sure he would have.

“Jamie went on and on about ye last Christmas, ye and the lass both,” Jenny explained. Claire’s heart fluttered to think that his family knew about her all the way back then, when she was still so far in denial she couldn’t see past her own nose. “So I was bloody curious what was so special about ye. Didna take long to see it, I’ll say that.” She smiled fondly at Claire, her eyes twinkling.

“Well…thank you. I think.”

“What Jenny is trying to say,” Ian cut in. “Is that we’re glad ye’re here, and we’re grateful to ye fer the joy ye bring our brother. Both of ye.”

“Aye, cheers to that.” Brian lifted his whisky from where he sat and took a sip.

“You know,” Claire said. “I heard all about this little one after the holidays last year.” She looked around Jamie and Faith at Maggie. “Jamie showed me pictures of her. She’s just adorable. I mean, both of your children are beautiful, of course.”

“D’ye want to hold her?” Ian offered.

Claire’s heart fluttered. “Could I?”

“Aye, of course.”

They both scooted forward for the exchange.

“Have to pish anyway.”

Jamie clapped Ian on the shoulder as he got up to leave, and Claire sighed loudly as the small weight settled in her lap.

“Well, hello!” she cooed, smiling enormously at Maggie’s sweet face. “Aren’t you the cutest little thing.” She bounced the baby in her lap, and she smiled lazily at her before breaking into the sweetest little giggles. Claire laughed in response, her head light and dizzy from the euphoria of holding a baby.

“Oh…I haven’t held one this small since Faith,” she sighed. “She’s just so sweet. Such a perfectly behaved baby.”

“Aye, she’s night and day wi’ that one.” Jenny nodded behind her to Jamie, engrossed in the game on the tellie.

Maggie gave another squealing giggle, and Faith abruptly sat up for the first time since burrowing into Jamie’s side.

“Ye look bonny wi’ a bairn, Sassenach.”

Claire looked up from Maggie to see Jamie boring smoldering diamonds into her, and she felt herself turn to a puddle. She’d be lying if she said she’d never thought about having another baby, and she’d also be lying if she said the thought of having one with Jamie hadn’t immediately crossed her mind the second she laid eyes on Maggie’s darling face.

They maintained eye contact for a long moment, and then Faith reached forward and grabbed the baby’s face, and Claire gasped, pulling Maggie into her.

“Gentle, Faith,” Jamie said quickly, as gently as he could muster. “The baby is very wee, and very sensitive. Ye must be gentle.”

“Gentle like with Pippi,” Claire added.

Faith bit her lip and sat up again, and then she gently stroked her fingers down the line of Maggie’s nose. Claire and Jamie both burst out laughing, and Faith hummed loudly, jiggling her hands and bouncing in Jamie’s lap.

“Pippi’s her horse?” Jenny said, chuckling herself.

“Aye!” Jamie said through his laughter, and then Jenny and Brian were also laughing out loud.

“What’d I miss?” Ian returned from the bathroom and sat back down on the couch.

“Faith started petting Maggie like her horse because we told her to be gentle,” Jamie explained, laughter finally subsiding. “Good girl, Faith,” he said.

“Come here, baby,” Claire summoned her closer. Faith clambered onto Jamie’s other leg. “You don’t have to pet her nose. Look.” Claire stroked Maggie’s head, then rubbed her back, all while bouncing her. “See? Gentle.”

Faith hummed loudly again, bouncing and jiggling.

“Calm down, lass,” Jamie crooned. “Ye canna play wi’ the bairn if ye canna be calm.”

Faith managed to stop one of her hands from flapping as she gingerly patted Maggie’s little head. Maggie turned to look at her, and Faith squealed.

“Yes, good job,” Claire said.

“Oh, how sweet,” Jenny said. “Ye’re a sweet girl, Faith.”

Faith did not turn at the sound of her name, but Claire beamed at Jenny. “She loves babies,” Claire said. “One of the moms brought her baby to the stables one day, and I had to hold Faith back from throwing herself in the stroller.”

Jenny chuckled. “She’ll make a braw big sister, then.”

“Janet,” Jamie warned, but Jenny just put her hands up in surrender, and Claire’s cheeks flushed red.

Faith gave another loud hum, and then she scrambled off of Jamie’s lap. She pattered over to the bag Claire had left by the door that contained both of her tablets and some emergency snacks that Claire had packed. She reached in for the school-provided tablet and walked back to the couch, standing in front of Claire and Maggie. She clicked around for a bit, and then she pressed the word she wanted to say.

“Play.”

Claire broke into a stupid, beaming grin. “You want to play with Maggie?”

Faith jumped up and down, letting out a squeal that gave way to a hum. “Play.”

“You’re so smart, good girl, sweetheart,” Claire praised. She looked to Jenny, who motioned for Claire to follow her. Claire set Maggie down on the floor as Jenny set out some toys she had brought.

“Play.”

“Yes, darling, we hear you, one moment please.”

Before long, Jenny had shown Faith all of Maggie’s toys, and Maggie was chewing on one while Faith became engrossed with the little baby piano toy. Jenny sat beside Maggie and Claire beside Faith, each making sure that Faith remained gentle and calm. They conversed over the children and across the room to the men. Claire learned how Jenny and Ian had gotten together, learned about the antics of all three of them growing up together, and at one point, she had tears leaking out of her eyes from laughing so hard at a story Brian told about the lads and the pigsty.

Faith would occasionally take Maggie’s hand and make her press buttons on various toys, some more gentle than others, but Maggie did not seem to mind. Little Jamie only got too loud on his video game one time, and one stern word from his mother was enough to assure it did not happen again.

The pizza delivery arrived, and there was a flurry of motion to get everyone into the kitchen. Parents all made sure that little ones’ hands were clean, and plates and cups were set out. Claire watched in awe as Jamie pulled a pizza plate out of his cabinet.

“Where on Earth did this come from?”

“I bought one,” Jamie said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “If the lass is gonnae eat pizza in my home she’ll have a pizza plate.”

Claire didn’t have the heart to tell him that Faith was not picky about what she ate off of if she wasn’t home, so she let Jamie hand the plate to Faith, both of their faces glowing with joy. Jamie turned around to grab the juice from the fridge and Claire went to help him, and by the time they both turned around, Brian was cutting Faith’s pizza on the plate, and Claire stopped in her tracks to stare.

“Ye’re family, lass.”

Jamie noticed, and he looked back and forth between his father and Claire, his eyes twinkling. He hugged her around the shoulders with one arm and kissed her temple.

“They’re as crazy about her as I am.”

Jamie crossed the rest of the way to the table, and Claire wiped her eyes quickly before following.

“I like her pizza plate,” wee Jamie announced, crossing his arms.

“Well, it’s Faith’s pizza plate,” Ian said firmly. “Ye’ll eat off yer own plate, and ye’ll like it.”

“Why do I no’ get one?”

“Because ye dinna have all the worries and troubles in yer heid that Faith has. The pizza plate helps her feel better. Now eat.”

The table was crowded, not meant for nearly as many people as were there, folding chairs squished between the wooden ones, but they made it work. Maggie was passed between laps so that her parents could eat, and everyone took turns handing her tiny pieces of saucy, non-cheesy, soft pizza to chew on. The conversation passed easily as they talked more about Jamie’s childhood; they even asked about Claire’s. She had plenty to tell about her adventures with her uncle, stories that she loved sharing with anybody who would listen.

Once the pizza was gone, Faith disappeared into the living room and returned with one of the DVDs that Claire had packed. Jamie helped her get it set up, and then little Jamie and Faith were sitting on the couch, watching Lilo and Stitch, and Ian was putting Maggie to sleep in the stroller that they were leaving in Jamie’s room.

The adults stayed at the kitchen table with drinks, and Claire held Jamie’s hand under the table, his other hand stroking her knee and thigh absently. Conversation with this family was easy and familiar, as if she’d known them her whole life. She did not feel like an outsider as she’d predicted she might. The feeling of belonging enveloped her like a warm hug. Then she’d remember Jenny helping Faith play with Maggie, Brian cutting her pizza, Ian explaining to little Jamie why Faith was different, and she would well up with tears.

Family gatherings in England made Claire sick with anxiety and made Faith utterly miserable, which just made everything worse. The Christmas before Frank left, when Faith was three, Claire had cried herself to sleep with his parents’ sneers burned into her subconscious. But this…

This was acceptance, understanding, welcoming, joy, warmth, comfort.

This was family.

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inknopewetrust · 3 years

Text

In Another Universe Part 3 (Marcus Moreno x Reader)

Summary: You are trying to normalize a world without Marcus, months after you snapped back to Earth. But in that other universe, an accident occurs in their mission to bring you back.

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader (We Can Be Heroes/MCU Crossover)

Word Count: 2.08k

Warnings: Nothing, just some language.

A/N: So... it’s embarrassing how long this part took to be published. If you’ll except an apology, I’ll be the first to beg for forgiveness. On the other hand... here’s part 3! Part 4 will be the conclusion of this miniseries so thank you for reading thus far and stay tuned for that. Right now requests are CLOSED but I am going to open them again soon when I get through the ones I have waiting and I’ll be adding L&O:SVU characters to the list. :)

Pain is a difficult concept to understand.

There are infinite reasons to feel a certain kind of pain or to be in a specific kind of pain, but no one can truly understand it until it happens to them. Which in the case of you, is no one.

At some point during the last five months, you had made a move to Clint’s farm. James thought it would be better for you to not be in the city where your closest friends were gone and weren’t returning. It was the constant memories of Natasha holding your hand when things got rough or Tony obnoxiously slapping you on the shoulder in a message of congratulations.

There were so many memories that simply seeped through the walls, both physically and metaphorically, but it wasn’t as if a move was going to change that. All you wanted was to move, home, to Marcus and Missy and the life you had built in what James had called ‘Earth 2.’

Earth 2.

Earth 2 was the only Earth that mattered to you and his deflection of it being secondary to the one that only caused pain was hurtful. But it wasn’t like he was going to understand that. So, you took up the offer to move to Clint’s farm and the second you landed and walked off the jet, you regretted the decision.

Clint was surrounded by love. His wife, his daughter, his sons. They were everything and nothing to you at the same time. Clint had his own problems to deal with upon meeting a young woman who took up skills like his own and often left you with Laura and his children.

Laura kept you occupied with small projects as they were renovating the barn and their basement, but it was just as mundane as the topics of conversation she tried to engage in. But with even the slightest mention of Nat, or Steve, or Tony, or the world you left behind, you shut down.

It was intentional, but it wasn’t avoidable. Pain wasn’t avoidable when it was buried so deep.

But there were the occasional good days. Like today.

Laura had taken the boys to soccer practice and promised Lila a day out at the aquarium. She extended the offer to you but she never thought you would accept. When you did, she was pleasantly surprised and also promised she would pay for lunch too. It was rare that you would pass up the opportunity to snag a free lunch because you obliged and allowed her to plan the day.

‘Maybe a day out would be good.’ You thought to yourself as you readied everything to go. For the first time in months you put effort into your appearance. A bit of makeup, nicer clothes, and shoes that weren’t scuffed or covered in dirt from the non-existent basement floor.

And for what it was worth, the day was good. You allowed yourself to just enjoy, learn, and watch a mother interact with her daughter and in turn, the daughter made you feel like the aunt Clint had always told her you were. Lila saw the effort and wanted to make you feel as welcome and as loved as possible.

And as the cracks of a broken soul begin to slowly merge together–where time would surely heal it to properly function again, a wrench is thrown to stop it.

James Rhodes wasn’t sure how it exactly happened.

He had been standing against a lab table, watching Clint (the only other resident at the compound at the moment) work on his bow. The two were making small conversation about their day to day lives since everything had gone down just a few months ago. While Clint had just finished installing a replacement valve on the base of the basket that held his arrows. It hadn’t been turning properly and the only place that would have the parts was Tony’s former playground. Then an earthquake occurred... or what they could equate to an earthquake.

Neither of them had ever been a witness to one, but the ground shook violently, quickly, with little give. Parts fell off tables and the two men grabbed at whatever they could to remain steady. By the time they had steadied themselves, the movement stopped. It was followed then, only then, by a loud crashing noise about a floor below and glass breaking. Clint was the first to reach for his bow and James grabbed the closest gun he could find. Neither of them thought anything other than “my god, what Thanos level shit is it now.”

Like the sleuth heroes they were, they managed to silently exit the lab and descend the stairs without so much as a creek. The living space that was located on the third floor was relatively untouched but the sound had echoed from the room. As soon as they turned around from the steps, they realized their suspicions were correct but it didn’t look like a Thanos level threat.

Behind the couch, the broken lamp that had no bulb laid on the ground beside a man. A man dressed in black tactical gear and swords sheathed on his back. He had other small weapons on his clothes but none of them were drawn and from the reflection of the glass window, Clint could see a perplexed look on his seemingly worn face. Although he didn’t feel the man was particularly threatening, Clint drew up his bow and held it steady from his position before calling out to him.

“Put your hands where I can see them.”

Cheesy, he knew it was but he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know where the hell this guy came from and he could easily be a sorcerer or God even though he looked like a regular Joe.

“Sir, I need you to show us your hands!” James was more assertive from behind Clint but didn’t move from his position. Ever since the accident years ago, James took a step back whenever he didn’t have his armor on.

The man had flinched a bit upon hearing their voices. He slowly raised his hands as asked and turned around to meet the eyes of two men who he had never met. Their weapons drawn on him but not unfamiliar to other situations he had been in before. This time, it was just more human.

“Who are you?” The one with short hair, a bow, asked him with a hesitant, gruff voice.

“Where am I?”

The man spoke their language—maybe not an alien.

“I asked you first who are you?”

“Where am I? Where is-“

“I do not want to have to shoot you, who are you?” James was aggravated, perhaps a little scared but he wouldn’t shoot unless the man made any aggressive moments toward them.

“M-Marcus. My name is Marcus.” Marcus’ voice was firm but scared. He didn’t know where he was. It was all an accident. One minute he was testing the machine and the next he was moving through a kaleidoscope of colors until he saw a blinding light and landed on a lamp in the middle of a futuristic looking living room.

There was a moment of realization in the bow-wielders face that gave Marcus a second of hope. Had this really worked? Was this your world?

“Alright Marcus, I am going to need you to tell me where you came from and how you got here.” The one with the gun in Marcus’ eyes began to move around the one with bow. He held out his hand calmly, signaling to Marcus that he wasn’t a threat but was protecting himself and his friend out of precaution. Marcus did not move his hands but nodded in agreement. What did he have to hide when he was now in an unfamiliar land with weapons pointed at his chest?

“I don’t know how I got here. I work for a team and we were trying to get someone back. I was working on it but something went wrong.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“No.”

“Who are you looking for?”

“Our teammate.”

Clint knew it was him. This had to have been the man you talked about with him and James was getting that sense as well. He was exactly as you spoke, handsome with a slight carelessness to his appearance. He had a mustache and his name was literally Marcus. It couldn’t have been anyone else, though they had no idea how in the universe he found his way to the middle of the Avengers living room.

“Marcus, I am going to ask you a series of questions I need you to be honest with me.” Clint put down his bow this time and James looked at him with wide eyes but continued to hold his stance.

“Does your world look like this one?”

Marcus took a second to let his eyes drift out the windows around them. The world looked similar, almost an exact copy. He had remembered your startled realization that his world was just as similar to your own even though it wasn’t the same one. It was a strange concept that was hard to grapple with.

“Yes.”

“Do you have a daughter, Marcus?”

“What?” This absolutely terrified him. As much as he wanted to be hopeful to find you, a mention of his daughter in a new world was not what he wanted. Now the question if he even escaped his own world and found himself in a new one was wavering. These people couldn’t possibly know he had a daughter unless they were familiar with the Heroics.

“Do you have a daughter? I need you to answer this so I can-”

“Yes. Yes, I have a daughter.”

“Missy?”

Marcus nodded his head and Clint looked at James who lowered his gun now. This was that Marcus. This was your Marcus and he was here to find you.

“And what can you tell me about Y/n?”

His heart leapt out of his chest with a fury at the mention of your name.

“She’s my-my she’s-”

Clint nodded his head and officially dropped his bow before extending his hand for Marcus to shake.

“My name is Clint Barton, maybe she mentioned me, I don’t know. But she’s talked plenty about you.”

“She’s here?” It came out just above a whisper as he met Clint’s hand.

“Y/n is with my wife at our farm. I can take you to her.”

It was like that final stretch of battle you had described to him before. This was his endgame, his chance for peace with you and the friends you left behind for years are willing to help make that come true. Much to his word, Clint prepared a jet to set off to the farm and James kept Marcus from stirring alone in his thoughts. It wasn’t as if the reunion would be soured because the relationship ended, no, quite the opposite, but the idea that maybe you would rather stay with the people who you had always been around was an invasive thought. James had eased those thoughts with stories of your return and subsequent difficultly to adapt to this life. That wasn’t an easy thing to hear, but it meant that somewhere inside you, you believed that life was better with Missy and himself.

James reassured him that you were very much in love with him. You had told the two of them about your “other” life, about the team, Missy, Mrs. Moreno, and everyone else who made that other world home.

Home.

By the time James had gotten around to recalling the moment you had realized you loved Marcus, Clint had come back, gathered his own bags and motioned to the jet.

“Looks like he’s ready to go.” James said and gave Marcus a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“She deserves to be happy and I know with you she’ll have that. It’s what they would have wanted.”

“Thank you for your help. I don’t think I would have found her otherwise.” Marcus chuckled but couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face. It was a contagious one because the two men couldn’t help but feel the love the radiated off the man. They were happy for you and if leaving this world for another meant you would finally be at peace, then that is what it meant.

“Go get her, Marcus.”

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

Tag list for series:

@pasckles @jupitersmooneuropa @agingerindenial @karnita-mexicana @mcueveryday @shadowolf993 @computeringturtle @roxypeanut

#marcus moreno #Marcus Moreno x OC #marcus moreno x reader #Marcus Moreno x you #we can be heroes #Netflix We Can Be Heroes #We can be heroes x Reader #x reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x oc #netflix #x female reader

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wei-yiing · 3 years

Note

Ohhoho a drabble you say? How about something with cloud recesses summer school time but a matchmaker takes advantage of all the eligible bachelors in one spot and ensuing wangxian? (Stay well, friend!)

[ anon i saw this and sat on it for three days and i could only produce this awful drabble :') i'm still posting it because i love you. :"") ]

"Sect Leader Lan, you don't have any daughters, do you?"

Jin Guangshan's voice dances in the air as he quietly sips his tea, eyes lidded as he maintains his gaze with Lan Qiren.

"No." He grumbles as he restrains the urge to rub his temple. It would be unbecoming to fidget in front of their honoured guest, but Jin Guangshan is making it awfully difficult not to. "No, there are no female cultivators or next of kin within the Cloud Recesses."

"Well then, I'm sure we can figure something out." The man opposite places his teacup down with a smile. The sparks amidst snow covering the fabric of his clothing is somewhat garish to the eyes. Then again, the entirety of Lanling Jin always announce their presence with the loudness of their appearance. "I'm sure the various sect leaders have daughters that would suit your nephews' taste. And with their good looks and well behaved manner, whichever fair maiden we find should count her stars."

Masking a sigh as a contemplative exhale, Lan Qiren brings his own cup of tea to his lips. As much as wishes that were the case, he knows the situation may not be so easy-flowing with his younger nephew. Lan Wangji has been blessed with an attractive face, and he is Lan Qiren's best student, always devoted and adherent to his strict upbringing; but he's lacking in the charming softness that his brother possesses, and as such, has not quite mastered the nuances of courting a lady. In fact, Lan Wangji never even seems to try. Which, in all honesty, Lan Qiren takes no issue with. He would much rather this than the alternative of Lan Wangji frolicking around with women by his side, or worse, some wretched vixen ruining his good name altogether.

He grips the tea cup tighter.

Alas, Lan Wangji's sub-par social skills result in every attraction towards him being purely superficial, and Lan Qiren does not wish for that, either. Lan Xichen will easily find a sweet, mild woman who will accept every facet of him, but where in the world will they find someone who is willing to look past Lan Wangji's cold demeanor? Where in the world will they find someone that Lan Wangji, the ever-disinterested and studious boy that he is, will take a liking to?

Taking advantage of the congregation of disciples from multiple sects all over the land, Jin Guangshan had travelled to speak on this matter to Lan Qiren personally, putting forth his proposal of a mass-arranged marriage agreement between the five major sects to strengthen their bonds. It's a novel concept, with most sects usually choosing to continue their lineage within the clan. But somehow, Jin Guangshan being Jin Guangshan, he had swayed most of their fellow sect leaders already, and decided that while the disciples are familiarising themselves with one other, it would be a good opportunity for families to mingle and arrangements to be written.

His guest seems to have picked up on his silence as a sign of musing. "Ah, Sect Leader Lan, don't worry. We have so many unorthodox children here, but I assure you, they will all definitely find a match. Is it Second Young Master Lan you are concerned about?"

It seems even Jin Guangshan is aware of the situation. "Yes, somewhat. He is a very particular person."

"Indeed." Jin Guangshan openly sighs, his lips upturned. He takes a second to survey his surroundings, listening to the gentle sound of water cascading in the distance. The air is cool, and peaceful. As the Cloud Recesses should always be. He looks back to the table and opens his mouth. "That hot-headed Young Master from Yunmeng Jiang."

"Young Master Jiang?"

"No, the other one. The dogged and flippant one. He seems to get along with Second Young Master Lan, from what I've heard. Perhaps a political marriage would be good for relations between Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan?"

Lan Qiren stares with a furrow in his brow, before the implication sets in and he abruptly slams his teacup down. "You don't mean."

"Young Master Wei Ying, was it?"

"Shi-jie deserves so much better than that pompous, smug... brat. He's a brat. There, I said it."

"Wei-xiong, don't be so loud." Nie Huaisang hides his mouth behind his fan as he walks alongside him. "You've already gotten in trouble for fighting with Jin-xiong once. Don't let anyone hear you again."

"He's right. Wei Wuxian, you can't do anything about it now." On the other side of him, Jiang Cheng huffs in annoyance. "They're betrothed. And at least shi-jie seems to like him. Usually in a political marriage, neither person has any strong feelings on the matter."

"But why does she like him in the first place? He's so... ugh. I just don't understand political marriages."

"Heh. Is that so?" An arrogant voice cuts through the air behind him, and he freezes, as do Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng. Nie Huaisang's fan stops fluttering.

Not you, not now...

"Jin Zixuan."

"Wei Wuxian."

Nie Huaisang leans over, whispering into Wei Wuxian's ear behind his fan. "At least address him formally, Wei-xiong!"

He whispers back, though he makes little effort to conceal it. "Why should I bother when he didn't?"

"You were saying something about political marriages? Very timely."

Jiang Cheng inhales intently next to him, but says nothing, knowing Wei Wuxian already has the arrows of his words drawn. "Are you going to tell me more about your arrangement? I don't want to hear about your opinions regarding your betrothal to my shi-jie, Young Master Jin."

"You're far too presumptuous, Young Master Wei. I was going to tell you nothing of the sort. Well, Sect Leader Lan had intended to tell you himself, but I believe he's having a stroke somewhere, and my father told me to come fetch you."

Nie Huaisang snaps his fan shut. His voice is trembling, though less out of concern and more out of entertainment. "E-Excuse me?"

Jin Zixuan crosses his arms, smirking. "Sect Leader Lan is fine, don't worry. He's just processing the arrangement put forward for you, Young Master Wei. I believe Sect Leader Jiang shall be arriving soon to officiate it."

"Wait, huh?" Jiang Cheng sputters before Wei Wuxian has a chance to. "What arrangement?"

Wei Wuxian had been sincerely hoping he wouldn't be swept up in the tumultuous matchmaking scheme that has infested the Cloud Recesses. From the sounds of it, it seems his fate has been decided for him already. Oh, well, as long as the young maiden doesn't mind his love for fine wine and won't ask too much of him in the way of house chores, he's sure it won't end too badly. He'll be a better husband than Jin Zixuan ever could, that's for sure. "Who's the lucky soul that I'm engaging?"

"Unlucky soul, more like." All three of them stare at Jin Zixuan with wide eyes, waiting for his answer. He snorts, looking off to the side. "Oh, what a coincidence, there he is."

Wei Wuxian violently turns his head to see what Jin Zixuan is seeing. Over on he other side of the courtyard, Lan Wangji is standing before his older brother, and staring back at Wei Wuxian with an unreadable expression on his face. "What? But that's just..."

Jin Zixuan's haughty smile grows wider as he looks Wei Wuxian in the eyes. "You're being engaged to Lan Wangji."

#IM SORRY ALL I EVER WRITE IS SET UP WITH NO PAYOFF #if u guys want a pay off to this.... write it yourselves idk #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #lan qiren #jin guangshan #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #jin zixuan #the untamed #gdc #cql #not me tagging every character lol #my writing

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