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yandere-sins · 3 years

Note

Could I ask you for some general yandere headcanons for your three top favorite Haikyuu characters? Please and thank you!

*Cracks knuckles*

Alright, sit down and listen kids, Ivy’s going to tell you something wild now. (Thanks for asking, I love talking about it atm ;-;)

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The Miya Twins

♡ First of all, yes, both of them, at the same time. I love them equally, and they are my reason to read HQ!! in the first place. Honestly, their yandere idea is entirely inspired by the idea of the lovely @shorkbrian from the yandere discord server, but I am writing this idea right now, and I love it so much, I will forever hold on to it, don’t fight me

♡ They are together at all times, except if one of them goes to fetch groceries. They just like sitting around and watching you quietly. You are so amazing, so perfect, the way you read, or draw, or watch TV. They just don’t want to disturb you, but you are unnerved, of course, of their eyes always on you. They are predators, but god, can they wait for you. Stalking is half of the fun, right? If you come to them, they’ll hug and coo all over you, and four hands are praising and giving you affection, also four arms, four eyes, and two mouths, you are so damn lucky. Tough luck, however, with trying to play them against each other as they will never let that happen. No matter what they are doing, it’s a communal thing. Everyone sleeps, eats, brushes their teeth together. Punishments and love are spread equally over all participants, and there is no such thing as favoritism, the twin who gets too much attention eventually pushing you into the other’s lap for his turn

♡ Atsumu naturally is the bolder twin, and he likes going in to touch you, hug you, and tell you he loves you, and the longer he has to sit and restrain himself, the more he gets antsy. Full on, tapping his fingers, swaying back and forth nervously, as if you were a drug, he just has to consume. Only Osamu can hold his brother back, or he’d be all over you forever, keeping you in his lap as he lets you read to him, play with you, wrestle you and make out with you all the time. However, he’s also the one who gets pouty quickly, throws temper tantrums, and has violent outbursts if ignored for too long. Not consoling Atsumu also means you get on the bad side with his brother, and it’s up to you if you want the two brothers to fight or not, worsening your situation by the second since you are the one who will have to endure all that comes from arguments

♡ Osamu is much more comfortable to have around and a good watchdog for his brother. He cooks for you, buys the things you ask him for, and even if he gets a hug, he cuts it short, so you don’t get uncomfortable. But oh boy, do you not want to be on his wrong side. You simply don’t want to be ignored by him, or all hell will break loose. You can’t count on Atsumu taking care of you, who’d rather cuddle all day than feed you, and Osamu has more than once broken down the bathroom door after you refused to come out. He grew out of violence, but being ignored by him is like a death sentence. That time where he’s upset is also very cold since he pays the bills and lays in front of you at night. You don’t want to be pushed on his lap after Atsumu is done with you when he’s in a bad mood, or you will be treated worse than a doormat

Akaashi

♡ When you first meet Akaashi, he’s so pleasant and affable; it’s like a dream come true. He’s always helping, knows how to handle Bokuto’s mood swings, he seems just generally like a good guy, and there’s no reason not to hang out with him. That is until you suddenly realize that he’s been manipulating you all this time, making you lose contact with other people and isolate you, up to the point where you wonder if you actually ever knew him at all. While he seems to make significant upgrades in his life, you feel stuck the moment you moved in with him, and no one is believing you when you tell them that Akaashi must have completely brainwashed you. Sounds a little weird, don’t you agree? Maybe you agree, perhaps everyone is right, and you need help. Good that you have such a reliable boyfriend- oh ups, husband at your side. When did you marry again?

♡ Life is really, truly good. He supports you. He takes you out on dates still. You two consider expanding your household. Your family just shook their heads about your concern, but even now, you just don’t feel right, as if you went somewhere entirely wrong with your choices. And yet, when he grabs your hand over the dining table, telling you you look as beautiful as the day he met you, your heart melts. Surely, it’s not Akaashi’s fault. He loves you so much, after all. Enough to make sure that the unfortunate person that was in love with you and conveyed their feelings to your - back then - best friend Akaashi, never got the chance to take you away from him

Aone

♡ Having Aone lock onto you wasn’t planned, but you sure felt like he was a hero when he saved you from some dark figures on your way home. He didn’t say much, but he escorted you home, and you felt terrible, making him walk all the way back to his own home, so the next day, you made it all worse by buying him lunch. Poor, sweet Aone, he confused your politeness for interest in him, pondering all day about what to do to make sure you’d understand the feelings he had for you in return. It wasn’t an accident that he walked by when you were approached by someone shady. It also isn’t when he accompanies you home the next day. Or the day after, despite you not knowing he’s there. He’s so damn tall, and yet you still manage to miss him, and it frustrates him, as your attention should be on him, right? But he’s too awkward to come out with it straight

♡ He doesn’t like your friends, and he doesn’t like you being so distant all the time. You may laugh as he approaches you about these concerns he has, but you regret that laugh the next time you wake up in an unfamiliar room, only Aone being by your side. He’s wringing his hands nervously, and you think you see pearls of sweat on his forehead. Though the moment you wake up, he jumps to a stand and dashes off, leaving you behind, chained by your foot. If you don’t appreciate his worries and how much he cares about you, then you shouldn’t be out and running wild. Aone doesn’t want his heart to be broken, even if that means he has to break your will first. And that he can do, volleyball taught him as much

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sothasil · 3 years

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A post for @sakuyabell and @lesbianhatatelier, who asked for the essay

original post being this one

under cut for length. Spoiler warnings for ch.45 and 51(very slight) of Witch Hat Atelier

In this thesis and by way of a boy looking pensive sitting on his ankles on top of a dead tree, I ponder about our Coustas joining the side of the Brimhats, becoming a magical healer to save others, just like Restis got him and his old man saved

(I HOPE that this image can be read well!)

Healing herbs grow at the foot of the trunk he’s on, I left his actual health ambiguous in the piece. It’s not possible to see if he was cured or not from the pose

His legs are both immobilized and held in place so he can stand on them by the spiraling ivy, which I mostly reffed off memories of ch.51 raws of a contraption I assume Restis made for him to walk. I have not read 51 so this is all speculation

He’s not wearing his flying cape anymore, but it’s hinted at with the feather he’s holding but in a lose “might drop it anytimes i don’t care about it” way. I know he keeps the cape but I also know he probably will not keep the ties with its makers

Instead of his regular robes (which were given to him in the hospital from what I believe as there’s the medical cross stitched on them behind the neck, and he didn’t have them before) he’s wearing his dancers outfit. If it’s indeed something he wore then he lost it in the river alongsides his other stuff. Bygone relic of the life and job he lost that day

The banners on the back of the outfit show the cross of the medical witches and patterns ressembling Ininia’s magical staff-talkie-walkie-wand-whatever thingie. Also look like an eye because, Brimhats

Where the story currently is at I wonder about what Coustas is even going to do, I am pretty convinced he’s going to have hung out with Ininia and Restis and break all friendships with Coco and Tartah. I could even see him wanting to become a healer, and/or learning magic and the spells used on him and Dagda. Obviously it’s a very tumultous time for him. The main thought I had about this drawing in all was him going through all that and ending up performing his thank you songs to the Brimhats instead, backing himself up in a corner since he’s already being under suspicion by the Knights the moment they find him at the accident

I hope this was OK, I struggle much to organize my thoughts... Ask if you want elaboration on anything. I have a LOT of ideas brewing in my mind about Coustas but I am probably not going to draw any more speculation pieces until I actually read 51

Also, not related to allusions to the story but the pose was inspired by that corny ass Lucifer painting everyone and their mom’s redrawn. Plucked from memory just for the drama of it all but fallen angel could fit I guess...Funny enough I tried to redraw it from memory when I was streaming the piece and I am still stunned by how close I was

#not art #the other inspirations i had i cant rly link bc i forgot but the face was from several artists i admire #and the flowing banner stuff from pimientosdulces and cy-lindric sorta stuff and of course the actual series designs

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creationcitystreet-em · 3 years

Text

Covered in Your Love

Pairing: James Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: Although I should be working on my 2 WIPs, I’m a terrible person and just couldn’t drop this idea, so here it is. I enjoyed writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it!

Summary: You are Alexander Pierce’s daughter. Your mother died when you were a young teenager and you’re in your early 20s now and your father is making you marry Brock Rumlow. But you’ve fallen in love with James Barnes, who is still being forced to be the winter soldier! Inspired by the Taylor Swift song “ivy”

Warnings: Rumlow is abusive/possessive, and I give some descriptions of physical abuse and verbal abuse. Other than that this is just all super angsty, hurt/comfort, with a little fluff

Words: ~3100

My Masterlist

You sat up straight in your chair staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair and makeup was finished and all that needed to be done was to put on your dress, shoes, and veil. This was a day you thought about as a teenager, but you imagined a smile on your face instead of a frown. You imagined the room to be alive with friends and music and your mom. You remember even bringing it up to your mother, asking her about when she got married. As you got older, you realized she probably hid her own lack of happiness on that day to protect you. She didn’t love your father anymore than you loved your future husband.

You didn’t know anything about the long history of your family within Hydra until you were older. You were practically royalty within the terrifying organization. It was the day that Brock Rumlow met you at one of your father’s parties that your life changed for the worse.

You had already fallen in love with James by then. After you turned 18, your father had moved you into Hydra’s main compound. He gave you a room there and made sure you began to learn more about his role within. You hated it. The more you learned, the more worried you got.

Soon you met James. That had been the final straw of the horrors you learned about Hydra. You knew who he was. You had heard stories and seen footage of Steve and Bucky, best friends in the 1940s. Captain America and the Howling Commandos, you knew a decent amount of it all. It was the first time you had the courage to confront your father with what he was doing.

Hydra turned who you assumed used to be a kind man into a killing machine for their own personal gain. Your father quickly put you back in your place and made you swear to not let him find out the truth. From then, you constantly pushed the boundary of trying to get to know James. You eventually secretly told him his real first name, but that didn’t bring any of his memories back. As much as you hated letting him stay in the dark, you knew it would be too risky to tell him all about Steve and his old life.

He slowly became more comfortable around you as you had an easy way of talking to others. You made him feel like a person and not just a weapon. He liked you and he trusted you. Soon that turned into love between you both. You told him some of the pain you had in your own life. From losing your mother to practically being trapped in the Hydra compound once you were an adult, he had a wonderful way of taking your pain and making you feel understood.

You were never scared of him like so many others were, and he found that to be like a million weights off his shoulders. Eventually he began to tell you about his own distorted and terrifying nightmares. His memories were so warped that they haunted him at night; he tried his best not to sleep often. You would sneak into his room and let him sleep with his head resting on you. It was the only time he said he didn’t become plagued with horrible and confusing dreams.

He was scared to let you see all of his metal arm at first. He thought you would be disgusted by the scars and never want to see him again. If you saw the entire arm, the attachment to his body, you’d understand the entirety of what he’s done with that arm. You’d understand that it was what made him the horror that he was. But that’s not what happened. You never failed to reassure him that none of that was his fault. He was an innocent through all the destruction Hydra forced him into. He endured his own torture from them. He could release his pain to you and you would make him feel truly loved.

Your love for each other was what kept the two of you alive. It made your life on the compound bearable.

It was that day you met Rumlow that ruined it all. He immediately became obsessed with you. He thought you were beautiful and he wanted you to be his. You found this out from your father, and Rumlow was important enough to get exactly what he wanted. You were soon set to be married, Rumlow gave you an engagement ring not a week after meeting you. You spent that evening crying as James held you.

“He wants me to marry him,” you told you through your tears. “But I’ll never love him. He wants me but I’m yours, I’m all yours James, and I never want it to be any other way.”

As you thought about that day, you looked down at your hands in anger. You cursed the world at how Rumlow set his eyes on you. However, you knew that it probably would have eventually been some other man if not him. Your father wasn’t going to let his only daughter live her life without marrying someone important within Hydra. You knew that anyone who was a willing participant in such an evil group would not have been a good person to spend your life with, but Rumlow had to have been the worst of them all.

As you were forced to spend more time with the man you were going to marry, you quickly learned just how possessive and scary he was. Everything had to be his way or he turned into a monster. He was good at faking his way into charming you for only a few moments, and then his entire demeanor would change. His eyes would go dark and he would become physically violent.

There were many times you snuck into James’ room with bruises on your arms or a cut across your lip. It angered James like nothing else had before. What hurt him the most was that he couldn’t do anything about it. He wanted to rip that man apart and make him suffer, but you had to remind him that they’d never see each other again if he did anything. He often spent his nights feeling guilty that he didn’t do anything to stop him anyway. He could kill him and you’d be safe, but he was selfish. He couldn’t imagine a life without you in it anymore, and so he listened to you and did nothing.

He would treat you gently and help clean any blood that sometimes ended up on your skin. He would hold you and let you cry if you needed to. He would whisper softly about how much he loved you and how wonderful you were. His words were beyond helpful in making you feel better. In addition to the physical pain Rumlow caused, he was incredibly cruel with his words.

One minute he would act like you were the best thing in the world, like a shiny diamond that he got to keep all to himself. The next he would degrade you and pick apart every flaw. He would call you stupid and ugly and say that nobody would ever want you. He would say you were lucky to have him, lucky that he chose you.

You tried your best to keep your own self esteem from being destroyed during those times. You found a small joy in the inaccuracies you were sure of within his statements. You weren’t lucky to have him. James wanted you, and so you knew his other statements must be false as well.

However, even when you tried to use this reasoning, it was hard to believe it sometimes. Without James’ constant reassurance when it was just the two of you, it would be much easier to believe Rumlow when he called you horrible names.

You sighed to yourself as you sat in all your thoughts, knowing that you would have no choice but to put your wedding dress on soon. You couldn’t sit there and put off the ceremony any longer. You would have to marry the man who hurt you everyday and never see the man you loved ever again. Rumlow didn’t live on the compound, so soon you wouldn’t anymore either. You looked back up into the mirror and saw James standing in the door behind you. You let in a surprised breath as you stood up and faced him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked in a hushed tone, nervous to see him standing in your door. He stepped in and shut it behind him.

“Your father wanted me to escort you to the church,” he bowed his head to hide his own pain. You pressed your lips together in anger. It was cruel for him to do that, after he had found out about you and James, this was his way of mocking your pain.

Back when he found out, he was furious. He caught James when he was about to kiss you in your room. He walked in without warning and the two of you were frozen at the sight of him.

“Dad, please!” You begged him as he commanded The Winter Soldier to follow him. James had no choice but to listen, fearing for your own safety if he did not comply.

“I had my suspicion of you two for a while now, and I will not tolerate this behavior! You have become too friendly with him and I thought it was just your inability to see what the world needed to be. I know now that this won’t stop until I do something about it,” he yelled as he directed you down the halls of the facility. He caught the attention of other people, but they knew better than to get involved.

Soon the three of you were in the medical room. “I love him!” you took a chance to finally say the truth. “I can’t marry Rumlow, please I can’t.” Pierce froze and he turned to you with a deadly serious look on his face.

“You will not ruin this for me, for our family, for everything Hydra has worked for. He is nothing but a weapon, a means of our will! He should not be capable of love and you are a fool who is only deluding yourself!” he shouted at you.

“He is more than that. What you’ve done to him is torture and evil. He loves me and treats me with more kindness than Rumlow ever will!” You stepped next to James and grabbed his metal hand gently. You looked at him and he gave you a worried but comforting expression. To others it probably didn’t look like his face changed much, but you saw the emotion he was emitting in his eyes.

“If that’s the case, then I’m right to wipe him. Get him in the chair,” he directed the other soldiers in the room.

“No!” you cried out. “No you can’t, please!”

“Y/N,” James whispered and you turned back to him. His eyes were pleading. Begging for you to stop. He didn’t want you to get yourself more into trouble. He knew there was no way out of this one anymore. “It’s okay,” he tried.

You shook your head with tears filling your eyes. “No,” you said. “No it’s not.”

Someone grabbed your arms, pulling you back away from the love of your life. You tried to shake them off you, but another agent also held you back. Your hand soon pulled out of James’ and you were taken out of the room as you screamed for them to let you go. You were locked out of the room, unable to see anything inside, but you heard the moment his mind was wiped. He screamed in pain and you slid to the floor against the door. His screams caused pain to radiate in your own body and all you could do was cry.

“You are not to remind him of your history together. He is a soldier to serve us and nothing more,” your father told you with malice in his voice. You didn’t respond, only continued to cry until somebody eventually pulled you up and took you back to your room.

It was an entire month of misery, rarely seeing James but it hurt more when you saw him then when you were alone. His eyes were empty of any expression, and you knew everything you had together had been cleared from his mind. You were glad word of your relationship with James never got back to Rumlow, you had a feeling your father didn’t want people to find out and made it very clear to those who knew must keep it secret. You’re body tensed in fear at the idea of Rumlow finding out. He would have James killed, and who knows what he would have done with you.

It wasn’t until one day you were in the hall with Rumlow, he had been angry with your behavior at the latest important event he dragged you to. Any bit of happiness left in you was drained, and you couldn’t even pretend to enjoy yourself anymore. He yelled at you for being an embarrassment and you made a snarky comment that caused him to slap you.

James had been walking through the hall to his next assignment when he saw the slap. He quickly grabbed Rumlow’s arm and pulled him away from you, his face fill with anger. When you realized what happened, you put your own hands on James and got him to back up. You wordlessly told him you were okay, that he couldn’t react that way.

“What the hell?” Rumlow shouted at James.

“It’s my job to protect Director Pierce’s daughter,” James explained.

“It is your job to follow orders and mind your own business,” Rumlow told him. “Get back to whatever you were supposed to be doing.”

James’ words and actions confused you. There was no way your father told him it was his job to protect you. That night you snuck out and found his room. You had to know if he was telling the truth or if it was a cover.

“Do you remember?” you said immediately as he stood up quickly at your entrance. He hesitated in answering, but you saw the battle in his eyes just like you always could. “You remember,” you stated with full confidence this time.

“I had to pretend,” he reasoned. “To keep you safe.”

“I was miserable without you!” You told him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I’d rather risk my safety to be with you then live another day thinking you didn’t remember.”

“Your wedding’s in a week,” he reminded me and I furiously wiped my tears from my face.

“Just give me the time we have now, please.” You knew once you were married, you would no longer live on the compound. You wouldn’t get to see James anymore and you’d have to live the rest of your life with that wretched person. You didn’t want to think about it, you just wanted to have what you could with James. He must have agreed since he pulled you into a kiss. It felt like it had been a hundred years since you got to feel his touch, and it was more beautiful than you remembered.

Now with him standing in your room just hours before you were supposed to get married, you wished you were back to that day again spending your limited time in his bed.

“You’re not dressed yet,” he commented.

“I just couldn’t, I don’t know, it will feel too real, I guess, I just…” You were having a hard time forming a coherent thought. The long year engagement was finally coming to an end, and it was everything you dreaded it would be. He took two quick steps towards you and soon you were wrapped in his arms. You started crying, but the waterproof makeup stayed perfectly on your face.

“Tell me to run,” you whispered as his hand caressed your face. “Please, just do it and I’ll go anywhere with you. We can make it together, just tell me to run.”

“You know I can’t,” he said as he put his forehead against yours. “No matter where we go, your father will find us.” You let out a sob at his words.

“I can’t do it, James. I can’t marry him,” you cried as you buried your face into his neck and he wrapped his arms around you, holding your head close. His body was tense, he felt just as broken and distraught as you were. He didn’t want to see you marry that monster, but he didn’t know how he could get you away without putting your life in danger. And on top of that, he secretly worried he was too much of a monster to be worthy of you anyway.

But he wanted to prove himself wrong. He thought about the possibility of taking her far away instead of to the church. He would keep you safe wherever you went. You would never have to hear another insult from Rumlow, never have to endure his hands on you again.

“Okay,” he finally decided and you looked up at him in surprise.

“What?” you breathed in response.

“Okay, let’s run,” he elaborated and you let out a short laugh as a smile grew on your face.

“Really?” you asked.

“Yes really, They’re all at the church. We can run in the other direction and never look back. I can’t give you a home or a steady life. I don’t think I could ever give you peace, but I promise I can give you all my love until the last second of my life. I’ll protect you with everything I can.” Your tears of sorrow turned to those of happiness.

“Okay,” you said while nodding your head and placing your hands on his face. “James, any life with you will be the best life I could ever hope for.” He kissed you quickly, knowing you two had to act fast if you wanted to give yourself enough time to find a place to hide out. “I love you,” you told him as you two pulled away. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he replied. You quickly changed into other clothes and took his hand in yours as he guided you out, away from Hydra’s compound, away from all the pain and torture you both hand endured there and towards your future together.

Tagging for reading list🥺👉🏽👈🏽: @saiyanprincessswanie

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #reader fic #reader insert #marvel #marvel fic #mcu #mcu fic #taylor swift #taylor swift evermore #taylor swift ivy #evermore album #ivy #inspired by taylor swift #taylor swift lyrics #Bucky barnes

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currentfandomkick · 4 years

Text

Selina Steals a Bug from Batman to get her Kitten.

blame this post here for this thing's inspiration, and a friend for encouraging this.

Selina paused when she saw ‘the lost Wayne’ news. She knew Bruce didn’t adopt another kid and forget to tell her—Dick kept her up-to-date on his new siblings and sent her pictures. No, her boyfriend Bruce Wayne would certainly not hide a new Wayne from her.

He absolutely would forget to introduce her to a new family friend or potential bat. She was still upset about how long it took him to admit that little Stephanie had been working with his son for months and he hadn’t thought to invite the girl over for a meal or two when Selina was over. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know Tim was dating another vigilante… it was that one of her not-technically-my-sons was not introducing her to someone who had saved his life multiple times and who happened to be another Gotham vigilante and another addition to the batfam.

Selina is their unofficial mother after all, she has rights. Any possible members of their little bat family, and she must assess them. at the very least, teach them more than just Bruce’s habits. The man was horrendous at showing his actual emotions, and the kids would need a counter example to that—herself obviously.

So imagine Selina’s surprise when she decided to surprise her boyfriend and his children with a visit, only to find a young teen drinking out of Tim’s favorite mug, wearing one of Dick’s more infamous Nightwing hoodie’s, and looking at one of Damian’s katana’s carefully.

“Who are you?” Selina had a feeling this was the latest “not a Wayne” and she would have to ensure her bats were safe from a fellow thief… again.

The teen looked up, almost startled by her appearance and nearly dropping the katana.

Selina raised an eyebrow.

The teen flushed. “Marinette.”

“And what,” Selina strolled over to the table and sat on its edge. “Exactly are you doing with all of these?”

The girl was smart enough to look a bit embarrassed, she'd give her that much. Not without shame. Good.

“Well, uh, kind of complicated, but, uh, the boys said that I couldn’t manage to grab their favorite things.”

Selina looked the girl over. She was probably the new one to the group, the spotted French girl Jagged Stone mentioned in a few of his songs. She was young, and clearly good at getting what she wanted.

“Where’s Jason’s?”

“Uh, how did you…”

“Answer the question.”

“… behind the gardener’s shed. He really needs to stop leaving his keys in easy access pockets.”

Selina nodded, looking over the girl. She was twisting a familiar looking ring… wasn’t that one of the Wayne family rings!?

“How did you get that off Bruce?” Selina feigned nonchalance.

“… don’t judge me.”

“Too late. Talk.”

“Accidentally, I swear, just, he left the safe open and mid-terms stress and then…” the girl gestured helplessly.

Selina could appreciate the honesty. She could also appreciate that the girl managed to get something off each boy.

But now came the real test.

“Kleptomaniac kind?”

The girl flushed harder. “Yeah… I was going to return it, eventually… I think.”

Selina looked over the girl once more, suddenly seeing an opportunity she should have taken back when she first saw Tim stalking her bats way back when. She could use her own mini.

“How do you feel about cats?”

Marinette shifted gears at that. “Real, memes, or Chat Noir?” Selina could feel there was a story there, one for another time. “If we’re talking real, they’re amazing, the memes are fun and Chat is…” the girl shook her head. “Complicated. And in London apparently, so he can’t judge me for my poor life choices.”

Oh, Selina likes this one. “I’m guessing you’re Brucie’s latest pet project?”

Marinette scrunched up her face at that. “I’m here to force a sense of fashion on this family if it kills me.”

Selina smiled at that. “Oh, I do believe we’re going to get along wonderfully.” She extended her hand. “I go by Catwoman in the field.”

Marinette paused for a moment before taking the extended hand with a grin of her own. “Ladybug—though we might want to go with something else for this... how do you feel about panjas bracelets?”

Selina’s grin grew. “Oh, we’re going to get along perfectly.”

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In the Batcave there was a meeting being held by a distressed Nightwing, impatiently waiting for the others to finish arriving.

“Batgirl?”

“She’s not on tonight,” Red Robin answered, quietly sipping his espresso in one of his lesser mugs. It seems like his bean got to his favorite earlier…

“Black Bat?” Nightwing asked Batman.

“She’s running with the Birds of Prey tonight—Oracle’s idea.”

Nightwing seemed to accept this. “I’ll just forward them the power point.”

Red Robin groaned. “Another one?”

Red Hood shook his head. “Blame B. He got it in Dickie’s head that this is how you explain things to people. Bullet points.”

“No names in the field,” Robin snapped.

“No names in the field,” Red Hood mocked under his breath.

Robin glared at him for that.

“It’s a very effective method.” Batman stated defensively.

“Yeah, on the League,” Red Robin grumbled into his coffee. The Batfam is full of (not really) professional detectives—they are capable of understanding without the bullet points of doom. Mostly.

“Then I’ll just get started, Agent A, Lights!”

The batcave dimmed to show only the projection of a power point title slide ‘Marinette Cannot Meet Selina, Ever.’

“What the hell is this?” whispered Red Hood.

“I allowed you to delay patrol, for this?” Batman sighed.

“Silence! Nightwing is speaking.”

“Thank you Robin, now, Marinette is under no circumstances to meet Selina.”

“Why doesn’t he have to use codenames?” Red Hood wondered aloud. Only to be kicked by an aggressive Robin. “Ow! What the hell demon spawn!”

“Silence,” Robin hissed.

“As I Was Saying,” Nightwing loudly began. “Marinette is not allowed to meet Selina. It would be a disaster for us all.”

“Its not she’d adopt her like a certain someone is trying to,” Red Hood stated, pointedly ignoring Robin’s attempts to silence him with threats of violence.

Nightwing changed the slide with a sigh. “Exhibit A: Marinette enjoys shiny things, and so does Selina.”

The slide showed two pictures, one of Marinette in various miraculous while holding one of Damian’s daggers, and the other of Selina with a very large gemstone necklace.

“Exhibit B, they are both prone to theft.”

The next slide showed Catwoman stealing a necklace from a museum, and Marinette in Batman’s cape while using Tim’s phone and wearing one of Jason’s leather jackets, Titus laying at her feet.

“Marinette does not stop at shiny things, as we can expect of Selina,” Robin explained.

“You’re just mad Pixie managed to get past your security.”

Robin glared at Red Hood.

“That doesn’t explain why bean shouldn’t meet Selina,” Red Robin said. “Hm, maybe I should change the bean blend again? not getting enough of a buzz.”

Nightwing sighed, changing the slide again. “If the two meet, we lose all we hold dear.”

This time the slide showed a photoshopped Marinette and Selina sitting on a pile of miscellaneous objects.

Batman sighed, deciding his eldest was just being overdramatic again.

“Mari will learn new tricks from Selina.” Nightwing stated slowly. “Tag team with Selina, maybe even be the Robin to her Batman.” That got the room’s attention, albeit not the kind Nightwing wanted. “It would not just be Mari’s minor thefts anymore.”

Red Robin rolled his eyes while Red Hood snorted a “yeah right.”

Robin looked nervously as Nightwing finished his powerpoint.

“Mari would rule Gotham and no one, not even us, would be able to stop her.”

Batman decided that they wasted enough time on Nightwing’s bout of paranoia. “I highly doubt Selina would corrupt her.”

At that moment a beaming stripped heroine walked in, wearing a new string of necklaces, with Catwoman at her side with an amused look of her own.

“How dare you try to hide a kitten from me.”

Nightwing threw his hands up. “I told you!”

Batman stared while Robin began checking their systems… no alarms had gone off anywhere and they all knew the pair had stolen the necklaces that Marinette was sporting.

Nightwing was right.

“Holy shit is this really happening?” Red Robin half-whispered, looking back and forth between the pair and a shocked Batman. “Is Catmom pulling a Batdad?”

Catwoman flashed a smile. “Since someone wouldn’t let me take any birdies, I decided to take a kitten of my own.”

“Why didn’t you tell me I could have more moms here!” Marinette exclaimed.

At the groups growing look of horror, Catwoman’s grin grew. “Oh, I forgot to mention, Harley and Ivy are back. They want joint custody. She’s the Marigold Harley’s been tweeting about.”

---

first thing i do after getting real internet back plus have the time to think, and its write and post this. hope you all enjoyed!

#maribat #my writing #my fic #selina adopts marinette #why not?

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 1)

for @evnscvll‘s 3k celebration challenge, I immediately broke the rules and took only one prompt: Love, Actually. then I made it into a series. oops. but she made me that lovely moodboard anyways!

summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman-- even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mention/description of infidelity, awkwardness, me teasing y’all by making this a slow burn

(quick note: I’m not fluent in romanian but I did my best to translate the dialogue as accurately as possible, rather than as literally as possible. if you don’t speak it I would recommend not translating seb’s lines so you get the full experience of having no idea what he’s saying just like the reader in the story but I won’t tell you how to live your life)

You usually trusted your intuition, but up until now you'd convinced yourself that you were being paranoid by worrying about your husband. Trusting him was more important than anything, and definitely more important than a strange feeling in your gut that something was wrong.

The sad thing is, you would've never guessed that he was having an affair with your sister. Not in a million years. All the sneaking around, the strange stories that didn't add up… you would've put your money on a secret gambling addiction (pun unintended but welcome), or maybe that he'd secretly lost his job.

But even with all your suspicion, all your low self-esteem, all your fear that he was too good for you… nothing could've prepared you to walk in and see him with his face between your sister's legs.

He didn't even do that to you; he said he didn't like the taste. You realized now, as you stared out the window of the train at the trees flying by, that that should've been a red flag from the start. For a man who had claimed to be a feminist, things were never really equal in your house. You both worked full time but you were saddled with more chores; you made more money than he did, but for some reason, you found yourself asking for his approval on large purchases; and of course, whenever you'd talked about children, he'd always just assumed you would stay at home forever and do most of the child-rearing. He told you that you'd need to handle them when he was too tired from work-- but what about when you were tired from watching them all damn day while he was working?

God, you needed to stop thinking about this. If you cried on this train people would probably look at you funny and you did not need that right now. You couldn’t take any more reasons to believe people dislike you. Even as much as you wanted to say that you didn't want or need your husband’s approval anymore, you still felt so shitty, so fundamentally worthless that he'd chosen your sister over you. He hadn't wanted to touch you in months. You wondered if it had been going on longer than that: when you'd blown him after that company party half a year ago, were you putting your mouth on something that had been in your sister's--?

"Something to drink, madam?" the attendant asked as she rolled by with her cart, pulling you from a very dangerous cycle of thought.

You jumped a little and looked over to her as she smiled at you-- no hint of judgment or confusion as you wiped a tear away. In her shoes, you would be nosy and want to know more about the woman crying on the train. Then again, maybe it was obvious to her: a woman, alone, who bought the last ticket just before the train left, carrying only a small briefcase and a few hastily-packed suitcases… a woman with nothing to lose, going nowhere as fast as possible. Could it be anything but her having been done wrong by a man?

"Tea, please," you nodded with a smile of your own-- weaker than hers, more awkward. You'd make a bad stewardess.

"Black or green?"

You didn't trust them to steep the green tea at the proper temperature, so you asked for black and nodded in thanks when she handed you the warm paper cup and rolled on by to the next passenger.

What really made your head spin, you considered as you sipped at your drink, was not your husband’s actions but your sister’s. You remembered when you were both teenagers and her boyfriend had cheated on her, she’d gotten so upset with the girl he’d done it with rather than him. You had thought that was ridiculous because the girl didn’t owe her anything. You understood better now, and of course, your sister did owe you something. You two had had your rough patches but overall, she’d been your best friend for most of your life. So much so that she was the one you went to when you were worried about your husband. She told you to give him space. You would’ve never imagined that was her way to get you to back off, to cover her own sins and give her more freedom to shag your husband in your goddamn bed.

Yes, that was the real betrayal. Lots of people have ex-husbands, but you couldn’t exactly turn her into an ex-sister. You were stuck with her, but you had no plan as of yet to face her again.

The night in the sleeper car was restless, literally. It was so dark out that you couldn’t see the trees or mountains anymore, but if you focused really hard and made sure to turn off every light in your room, you could just barely see the stars in the sky. You hoped that you would have plenty of time to spend looking at the stars once you reached your destination. As much as you’d loved the city lights of London for the past several years, you really needed to be somewhere that was actually dark at night. And where the air was clean. And, best of all, where nobody knew who the fuck you were.

You stepped out of the train and onto the platform, feeling very much like you were surrounded by people ending their stories-- reuniting with loved ones, finishing vacations-- while yours was just beginning. Well, you supposed it made sense that most of the people travelling from London to Nyíregyháza, Hungary were probably from Nyíregyháza, Hungary. Unlike you, who had only been here once while backpacking through the area in college and fallen in love with it. You were lucky that the owner of the secluded cottage you’d crashed at back then had picked up the phone when you called from the train; you were especially lucky that she was willing to pick you up from the station, you not being quite dressed or prepared for backpacking.

Exiting the station and finding the cobblestone street, you were nearly tackled by a portly old woman as she tried to get your attention.

“Mrs. Alberti?!” you asked with wide eyes.

“You should at least pretend I haven’t aged a day,” she frowned, her words coated with her thick Hungarian accent.

“I was just surprised that you’re still running the cottage! I figured you and Mr. Alberti retired ages ago,” you explained, following her back to her car and putting your luggage in the boot.

She seemed a little crestfallen, wistfully considering your assumption. “Well, it’s not quite what it used to be but yes, I am still the owner. Sadly, Mr. Alberti passed away several years back.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you replied, hoping to be as comforting as reasonably possible, “he was such a sweet man.”

“Yes, but he had a long illness-- and before that, lived a very full life,” she smiled confidently, walking to the driver’s seat as you followed along the other side and got in the passenger.

“It’s too bad he won’t get to see you again, though,” she continued as she started the vehicle. Considering how old it looked, you were impressed that it worked on the first try. “He would’ve been amazed to have a repeat customer from somewhere so far away. I certainly am!”

“Yes, well, I have great memories from staying in the villa, and decided to go in search of some of the lust for life that I had back then-- chasing after youth never backfires, right?” you joked.

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied with a smirk.

You knew you were getting close to the old house when the roads turned from asphalt, to cobblestone, to gravel, and finally to dirt. As much as you figured trees and grass looked basically the same everywhere, you appreciated that it somehow managed to look totally different than England. Maybe it was the scattering of blue wildflowers, or the way the wilderness was dominating the few signs of human existence rather than the other way around. Driving it was different than hiking it, certainly, and you wondered if you would find the time or energy to climb the foothills on the other side of the lake like you had before. Maybe you didn’t want to find out how much athletic ability you’d lost since college…

“Here we are!” she announced as she made one last turn and yep, there it was: a lonely stone cottage, with flowers all along the walls and pink wooden shutters.

You could tell it had aged since it had looked how you remembered, but if anything it had gained a quaint charm, with its moss and ivy and old trees which sagged under their own weight. Figuring you would have more time to take in the scenery in the indefinite time you planned to spend here, you decided to make good time and gather your things first.

As you opened the boot and reached in to grab your luggage, someone appeared beside you and pushed your hands aside, saying something that you couldn’t parse at all. You stepped aside and realized that it was a young man-- not horrifically young or anything, but certainly… strapping. He shot you a smile, and you couldn’t think of the last time somebody had looked at you with so much joy on their face.

“Oh, thank you,” you nodded, letting him lift your suitcases (which he did with ease, just to make it all extra cruel).

“This is Sebastian-- he lives here and does odd jobs for me,” Mrs. Alberti informed you, "Don't waste your time talking to him; he doesn't speak a word of English."

"Oh, he only speaks Hungarian?" You turned to him again; "Szia, hogy vagy?"

He shook his head and smiled awkwardly.

"No dear, he only speaks Romanian," Mrs. Alberti explained with a laugh. "Can't you tell I can only afford to run this place by using cheap immigrant labour?"

"Salut," he greeted. At least you could figure what that meant. You chuckled uncomfortably and looked to the ground.

You followed Sebastian and Mrs. Alberti into the house, admiring how little the interior decorations had changed-- it was all macrame and flowers in old-fashioned ceramic vases, with lots of oddball Hungarian trinkets to round it all out. Perhaps the only thing you could notice that was different was new floorboards.

“You like the new floor?” Mrs. Alberti asked, as if she were reading your mind. “Sebastian put that in for me.”

Sebastian seemed to perk up as he set your bags down briefly, clearly aware he was being talked about.

“Remember?” Mrs. Alberti addressed him, motioning to the floor. “You put in the new floor, huh? Új emelet?”

You wondered why she’d seemed to laugh at you for trying to speak Hungarian to him, when she was doing the same thing.

“Da,” he smiled, pressing his shoe down onto the floor to apparently demonstrate the lack of creaking. “Ți-am făcut un etaj nou.”

“Alright, go ahead and take her bags upstairs,” Mrs. Alberti instructed him, motioning to the luggage and then to the staircase. He nodded and picked them up again, starting to walk across the room. “He knows where your room is, just follow him,” she told you.

The stairs, unlike the new floor, did creak, and you weren’t sure how far behind you were supposed to be on the staircase to avoid having his ass right at eye level. You didn’t want to stare at it… but either the jeans were doing him a lot of favours, or Mrs. Alberti’s ‘odd jobs’ do a body good. Maybe a little bit of both.

He used his back to push open the door to your room, setting your bags just inside before turning to leave again, like he thought it would be rude to step inside.

“Wait,” you requested, but he kept going-- probably the whole ‘not understanding English’ thing. God, you were going to look so stupid at least a few more times trying to get through to this guy, you could sense it. Forced to get his attention another way, you reached out and grabbed his arm; not hard, but it was definitely a slightly aggressive thing to do anyways. It worked, though, and he turned around with an expectant look. “Could you help me unload?” you asked, gesturing towards the bags.

His brow knitted with confusion as he tilted his head. You sighed, not sure exactly how to pantomime this.

“One of my bags,” you began, pointing to one of them, “is heavy--” a lifting motion-- “could you--” you pointed to him-- “unpack it?”

That seemed to make more sense to him, and he stepped back into the room with you. “Voi încerca,” he said, somewhat to himself, as you opened the suitcase. Inside was your typewriter; he nodded with understanding and scooped it up.

“Unde?” he asked, and regardless of what it meant, you were going to show him where to put the typewriter anyways.

“Just over there, the table by the window,” you pointed to it. He nodded again and walked past you, setting it down, and even adjusting it a little to make sure it was centered.

“Thank you!” you piped up when he turned back to you. And just like that, you were plunged back into awkward silence. You pointed to him, and then the typewriter as you pantomimed typing. “Can you type?” He seemed to understand what you meant.

“Nu,” he shook his head, “când eram mic, trebuiau înregistrați anual.”

“...huh,” you mumbled, not sure what to do with that.

“Plec acum,” he announced as he started to step past you again.

You cleared your throat and let him walk out the doorway. “Right, um, have a good afternoon…”

He gave a little wave as he walked down the hall, and you sighed once he was out of sight and making his way down the creaking stairs. You impressed yourself with your ability to embarrass yourself constantly, even with total strangers. But, all that aside, you were finally ready to settle in and properly enjoy your change of scenery.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan rpf #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastan stan x you

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 3 years

Text

TATMILB, CHAPTER 6

Penelope spent her life writing love letters, which didn’t seem like a terrible idea until the letters were mailed out and Schneider received one of them. Hoping to fool their exes, they agree to fake a relationship. But are they lying to everyone around them, or to themselves? aka my To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before-inspired AU.

Penelope x Schneider, ODAAT. available on ao3 with extra author’s notes.

Chapter 6: Penelope and Schneider reveal their new relationship to Lydia and Alex, but Penelope decides not to tell Elena. When Schneider arrives to take Penelope out, he interrupts their videochat.

“Okay you two,” Lydia said before Penelope had even shut the door behind them all. She threw both arms out, a human barrier to any member of the family moving past her spot in the living room. “Tell me what is going on right now.”

“Abuelita? What’s going on?”

Alex’d had a good game, so while the silence on the way home was been tense, it didn’t prepare him for whatever was currently happening.

“That is what we are going to find out, Papito. Your Mami and Schneider, they are...I do not know what they are, but they are something. They have been keeping it a secret from us!”

“Keeping...what a secret?”

“They kissed! While you were at the bat.”

“Aw, man! I got a great hit off that last pitch. You missed it?” He looked at their guilty faces before catching up.

“Wait. You kissed?!? Like, the two of you?” He pointed to his mom. “You and Schneider?”

“Yes. Okay. Yes, we did.”

“We didn’t want the family to find out this way,” Schneider interjected, trying to take some of the pressure off her. She shot him a grateful look. Plus, what he was saying was true. Technically.

“Yeah. I know this might be a surprise, but Schneider and I are...dating.” She reached over and held his hand. “And I’m sure that you will both have lots of opinions about that, but we’re all free until dinner so you know what? Go for it. Let’s get it all out there.”

Schneider took the cushion next to her, their hands still clasped, and Lydia watched them for another moment before she shook her head.

“Eh.”

Penelope gaped at her mom as Lydia waved her hands dismissively and went into the kitchen to fix Alex a snack.

Even more alarmingly, her son looked ready to follow her. “Alex!” Penelope gestured at him, then at the floor near the couch, calling him back. “You don’t have anything you want to ask, or say?”

“Not really.”

“Oh. Okay.” She stared at Schneider, eyes wide and helpless.

“You’re not, I don’t know, surprised?” he ventured.

“No. Should I be?”

Alex, with the usual level of cool radiating off of him, shifted in his baseball cleats and rolled his eyes. “You’re always hugging and stuff, and you’re already in the family. It kind of felt inevitable.”

Lydia was vocalizing in the kitchen to mambo music, but she waved a wooden spoon in agreement with Alex’s words before returning to the stove.

As soon as Alex headed to his room to change and her Mami’s back was turned, Penelope snatched her hand away. What the hell was wrong with her family? What was she supposed to do with that reaction?

Schneider looked as baffled as she felt, and sat silently beside her, scrolling on his phone until dinner.

Lydia waited until the food was ready before she returned to the subject.

“So, mija. Does Elena know?”

“About--oh.” Nice job, Penelope. If you’re going to have a fake boyfriend, maybe try to make it seem like you remember that. “No, Mami, I haven’t told her yet. I didn’t want to tell her such big news in a text. It can wait 'til the next time we videochat.”

It could wait forever, she thought, shrinking from the very idea of that conversation. Alex was perpetually in his own world--as long as the people he loved were okay, he was content to leave them alone and do his own thing. But Elena had opinions. She was affected by the lives and the choices of everyone around her, and this involved two of the most stable adult presences in her world.

It had seemed like a much better idea before Penelope really thought about how it could rock Elena’s foundations. Telling her that her mom and Schneider were dating? Lying to her, to tell her that?

It was horrible.

Unless...what if Penelope said nothing at all?

Elena didn’t have to be baffled and shocked, or upset over being kept out of the loop like her Abuelita, if she never knew it was happening. The contract could be over before she came home from her semester away; she would hear about it secondhand and Penelope could explain it then.

The only other kind way to handle it would be to tell Elena the truth, Penelope knew, to make her the one person who knew it was all a sham.

Hi baby, how’s London? Have you seen the big clock yet? Is it really that big? Oh yeah, by the way, I’m dating Schneider now, in case your brother or your Abuelita happen to mention that in one of your texts or conversations.

Yeah, I know that sounds crazy. You probably feel really confused, but I have good news for you, it’s all fake!!

That’s right. It’s an elaborate conspiracy that Schneider and I came up with over ice cream and baseball because I wanted to avoid Max and he needed to make Nikki jealous.

She sighed and shook her head, tucking that conundrum away until Sunday, when she and Elena had already planned to talk. Maybe when they got on the call, she would know what to do.

****

By the time her phone buzzed on Sunday evening, Penelope had begun to worry Elena wasn't going to call.

“Hey, Mom,” her daughter said, beaming through the tiny screen. “Sorry, I know I’m late. I just realized I got the time zones off--still working on that.”

“Baby, it’s fine. I'm just happy to see you. Tell me everything about your week. How are your classes? What have you gotten to see? What do you think of the food?”

Elena laughed. “Slow down! I can only answer one question at a time. Let’s see, my classes are good. Really interesting, a totally different style than I’m used to--but in a fun way. I’m still having to catch myself when I start to panic, about being so out of my element. I think I’m doing okay though.”

“That’s good. You’re supposed to have fun, not just try to ace your classes,” Penelope agreed. “Not that you should be aiming for less than acing your classes!”

Striking that balance between encouragement and adding to her daughter’s anxious tendencies was still a work-in-progress, Penelope thought to herself, smiling at Elena. “I miss you, mija.”

“I miss you too--all of you. We went on a tour this week,” she added, with no attempt at a segue.

It was refreshing to see Elena overflowing with excitement, unable to hold it all in--a welcome change from her glum mood since her breakup. Penelope nodded along.

“A tour of what?”

“Oh, well, it was with my Religious History class, so it was a lot of old religious buildings, mostly. Landmarks and functioning spaces. Alex would have hated it, there wasn’t a single good selfie backdrop. But I had a blast. We saw Southwark Cathedral!”

“Ah. Cool,” she said, trying to remember if she should know what that was.

“It’s from Doctor Who, Mom.” Elena’s quirked lips were patronizing, but only a little. “The Tenth Doctor was there in an episode, and I couldn’t believe how big it seemed even in person. You expect movie magic, you know? But it was just...really cool.”

The quiet awe in her tone carried through the videochat. Apparently her daughter was in fact picking up culture and independent experiences overseas, just like she was supposed to. Penelope ignored the pang of separation in response and focused on the pride underneath it.

“So you went to a Doctor Who church, where else?”

“It’s not a Doctor Who church, Mom, there’s no such thing. Though if there were, I’d seriously consider joining. Sadly, none of the other spots on the tour were show locations, at least not today. I’m pretty sure the exchange student group events will do more of the classic tourist stuff while we’re here. Which should cover some Who basics. Buckingham Palace, Tower of London, London Eye...”

She trailed off, looking away from the screen.

“Is somebody there? Do you need to go?”

“No.” Elena shook her head. “No, I’m fine. How are you, by the way? You aimed so many questions at me, I want to know what I’ve been missing.”

Penelope had already decided to keep the conversation focused on Elena, to avoid any slip-ups about her new arrangement with Schneider. But with the way Elena was focused slightly past her, eyes a little glassy, she had a good reason to now.

“You’re not missing anything, everything’s boring and the same here. Your Abuelita may be planning to turn your bedroom into a shoe closet, but I’ll hold her off until you get back. Don’t try to change the subject though--I can see you, Elena. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Mom. I just had a second where, well...the London Eye is one of Syd’s bucket list items. They--we--talked about it a lot. Before. I think seeing it on the tour with the other exchange kids is going to be hard.”

She held back a sympathetic sigh, remembering how much it hurt to lose someone at Elena’s age. Even her last adult breakup was so hard that it was still haunting her.

“Oh, honey, I understand. Breakups come with moments like that, I promise. It’s normal.”

“I really would rather talk about anything else. Please.”

”Okay.” It had been so easy for her Mami to make Penelope’s relationship woes worse without even meaning to, when she was a teenager. Now that she was the mom, treading lightly was the best she could do. “Why don’t you tell me about the food, then?”

Elena was in the middle of describing a dinner she’d had at a pub called The Ivy House when Schneider opened Penelope’s bedroom door.

”Hello, privacy!” she snapped at him, tugging a throw blanket over her toes as though he’d caught her in a compromised position. Really, she was just startled. Schneider never knocked on the front door but he still knocked on her door, most of the time. He wasn’t completely oblivious to boundaries.

”Hello, person who didn’t respond to my texts,” he replied, unfazed. “Hello, Elena.”

”Hey Schneider.” She waved across the continents, matching his grin.

”In case it escaped your attention,” Penelope pointed out, “I haven’t replied to--or read yet--your texts, because we were busy catching up.”

”Well, it’s not like you told me,” he said. “Six messages, Pen. I thought maybe you were standing me up.”

She froze, aiming her coldest look his way but keeping it below a glare that Elena could catch long-distance and wonder about.

“Ha, very funny. Of course I’m not standing you up,” she said, hoping Elena would interpret that to mean if I were, it could mean we’d planned a date, which is a funny and impossible idea while Schneider would know she meant something else entirely.

”Hey, gimme the phone,” he said, ignoring Penelope’s careful parsing of words and taking her pocket-sized daughter right out of her hands.

”How’s life in jolly old England?” Schneider asked Elena, his gaze flicking to Penelope, who started gesturing wildly as soon as Elena was out of sight.

Do. Not. Tell. Her. She mouthed, punctuating the words with a mimed zipping of her lips. He watched her and then went back to chatting with Elena with no reaction at all, leaving Penelope panicking. Leave it to Schneider to let the secret out. It would be even worse if Elena found out from him when Penelope had completely avoided the subject, wouldn’t it? Maybe she should come clean now, while he was there. Safety in numbers.

”Yeah, your mom and I are gonna go grab dinner,” she heard him say, and she squeezed her hands into fists, calming down on purpose. “There’s this place on Sunset I wanna try.”

”It’s a vegan hipster place, isn’t it?” Elena fake-groaned through the phone, like he was still the most embarrassing adult she had ever met. “Schneider, organic local food is fantastic, but you have got to start looking outside the box for places that aren’t trendy. You know where I had dinner last night?”

Penelope took advantage of that moment to snatch her phone back. “And as I’ve heard this story already, I think now might be a good time to say goodnight, honey. You can talk Schneider’s ear off about the superiority of legacy recipes and family-owned bars another time. Preferably while I am very far away.”

”I’ll have you know, though,” Schneider interjected, leaning over so his face was partly in the frame next to Penelope’s, “that we’re getting Italian tonight. Your mom has very kindly agreed to give me her opinion cuz I’m still trying to find a new Italian fave ever since La Vite Blu had that little rat problem.”

”Ew, your old favorite place used to have rats?” Elena shuddered.

”No, not rats like the animal. It had ties to the mob, apparently--somebody told the authorities, and bing bang boom, no more La Vite Blu.”

”You are so weird.” Elena swallowed hard, offering them a slightly trembling smile. “You guys have fun at dinner though, okay? If you like it, maybe I can come with next time, when I’m back. I miss you.”

”We miss you too.” Schneider put his arm around Penelope and she leaned back against it a little, comforted. Her baby was so far away, and not all the way grown yet after all.

”Call or text if you need anything, okay? And keep checking in. I love you, Elena.”

”Love you too, Mom. Bye, Schneider.”

The screen went dark, before lighting back up to tell Penelope that she had six text messages.

”Jeez, you weren’t kidding. You know where I live, Schneider...obviously,” she added, gesturing around her bedroom. “There was no need to freak out because it took me a minute to get back to you.”

”I wasn’t freaking out.” He walked away, his voice carrying back to her as he headed for the living room. “I was just trying to make sure we were still on the same page.”

She followed him, still annoyed but unable to articulate why. Was it the barging into her room? Because that was rare, but not unprecedented. Was it the way he told Elena about dinner? Because Elena’s comment about joining them made it seem like she’d missed any possible date implications. And when Penelope thought back, all Schneider said was that they’d be eating dinner together. They did that all the time.

”Well, I have to get ready,” she said, emerging from the hallway to find him standing next to the dining room table.

There were flowers sitting on it. Once he realized she was there, Schneider picked the bouquet up off the table and held it out. “For you.”

“Uh. Thanks.” She glanced around them, then stared back down at the flowers. “You know, nobody can see your romantic gesture, right? Kinda ruins the public effect.”

“Well, it would be a little weird if we walked into the restaurant together and then I handed them to you. But it’s our first date. It seemed appropriate.”

Now he was watching her, she could feel it. Trying to tell if she was about to get upset over his attempt at a nice gesture, Penelope guessed. Her temper tended to hit him harder than the members of her family who shared her quick moods.

She gave in to the desire to lift them to her nose, breathing in for a long moment. They smelled like springtime, if it were springtime in a Disney movie. Sweet, but also earthy.

“I love them,” she said honestly. “Thank you.”

Schneider beamed, bouncing on his heels a little. “You’re welcome.”

“Okay,” she decided, “now I have to get ready and I have to put these in a vase. Give me a few minutes, okay?”

“No problem.”

Schneider sat on her couch in her empty apartment, perfectly at home while Penelope arranged the flowers in the family’s only vase. She was already trying to decide what to wear, now that his flowery touch had her feeling a competitive need to up her own standards. Her mind was so focused on the contents of her closet that she didn’t stop to read the card tucked into the bright bouquet.

Whatever nerves she was now feeling about their first fake date night, it didn’t seem like Schneider shared them. Penelope was pretty sure that as she went back to her room, she heard him pulling up a video on his phone about London’s best lesser-known pubs.

#alvareider #one day at a time #odaat #penelope x schneider #to all the men i've loved before #penelope alvarez #schneider #lydia riera #elena alvarez #alex alvarez #odaat fic #alvareider fic #my fic

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blursed-ninjago-ideas · 4 years

Text

So I wrote a Djinn!Jay thing cause I had the inspiration to do it.

Nya really should’ve realized that they were going to have problems when she found Kai sleeping on her bedroom floor.

He gave her a vague non-answer and left, but she didn’t really think too hard about it. They had bigger problems after all.

“How are you holding up?” Nya asked.

Jay didn’t respond, he just continued to look miserable.

“That good huh?” Nya asked.

“I just….I really want to go back to normal.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Nya assured him.

“Being a djinn isn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened.” Cole said

Jay glared.

“Hey, if you can’t be our ‘Mr. Positive thinking’ then I’ll fill in for now.” Cole said with his mouth full.

“Could we W word it better?” Lloyd asked, already flitching.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT! WISHING MAKE EVERYTHIGN WORSE!” Jay screamed.

“It was just a thought!” Lloyd said in defense, but he was already backing away.

“It was a bad thought!” Jay snapped.

“Be nice!” Zane said “He only wanted to help.”

“Wishing doesn’t help anything.” Jay said in a pout.

“You got any ideas Kai?” Nya asked while rubbing Jay’s back.

“Huh?” Kai asked, lifting his head for the first time since breakfast started.

“I asked if you had any ideas.” Nya repeated, now suspiciously.

“Not really.” Kai said, rubbing his eyes.

“Did you sleep poorly?” Zane asked.

“Did any of us sleep well?” Kai asked.

And that was the end of it.

Until The next morning when he fell behind in training. He dismissed it as being tired and off his game.

He dismissed it when Zane found him awake and staring at the wall in the middle of the night.

He changed the subject when Jay noticed that he hadn’t seen him go to bed.

He told Cole he must’ve been dreaming when he swore he heard Kai whimpering in the night.

He told Lloyd not to worry when he asked about the heavy bags under his eyes.

After a week of it, Nya was sick of Kai’s excuses. She was ready to spike his breakfast with truth tea, but the answer to what was happening finally came in the middle of the night.

They all jolted awake to the sound of Kai screaming at the top of his lungs. They ripped the door off its hinges as they burst into his room.

They didn’t find any danger though, they just found Kai, tossing in his sleep and crying. The all ran over to wake him up. When they finally got him awake, he continued to sob and hiccup. He kept muttering Nya’s name and clung onto her tightly while he tried to get enough oxygen.

Nightmares.

It had been nightmares. Every night. No stop. Horrifying and enough to make his start to avoid sleeping.

After they got him wrapped up in the fluffiest blankets they could find and made him a warm cup of hot chocolate. They piled themselves around him and demanded he talk about it before they’d release him from the comfort pile.

“I keep… It’s Nya.” He finally said. “Ever since we all got our memories from that other timeline I just… I keep….”

He started to cry again.

“She died!” he yelled. “And I was….I was so useless for the whole thing I… Nadakhan just….he tricked me so easily and….and I was… I am worthless….I couldn’t even.”

He was panting and crying again, despite everyone trying to sooth him, he was sobbing even harder.

“I keep seeing her die!”

“Hey! HEY!” Nya yelled over his crying. “I’m right here! I’m fine! It’s ok!”

Kai just shook his head and kept crying.

They spent the rest of the night trying to assure him and after hours and hours, they seemed to get through to him.

Which was what made it hurt so much to hear him wake up screaming again the next night.

They finally knew why Kai wasn’t sleeping and what was bothering him, but they weren’t any closer to helping him with it. It went on for another week and a half. Kai just kept getting worse and worse. He was hardly sleeping at all, and when he did, it was fitful and unpleasant. Nya tried sleeping with him and it seemed to help a little bit, but it was far from a solution. Putting him on sleeping pills just made him have more nightmares

He cut himself while trying to cut his food in his sleep deprived state. His hand was bandaged, and Zane cut his food for him, which didn’t help Kai’s mood.

After two weeks of it, Wu was trying to help Kai meditate to deal with his night terrors while the rest of the ninja had their own meeting to problem solve.

“This is so not what we need right now.” Jay moaned.

“We have to do something” Lloyd said.

“We’ve tried everything we can think of!” Cole said.

“Look.” Zane said. “We all know Kai doesn’t do when he feels like a failure, and we know that since Nya is his only family, he’s paranoid about losing her. He just….He’s dealing with all her worst fears being a reality. This isn’t something that we can just fix.”

Nya was ready to cry herself. She’d been watching her brother suffer like never before and felt so powerless to fix it.

“I just… I wish he didn’t remember all the awful things he went through in the alternate timeline.” Nya said ruefully.

“You wish is your heart’s to keep” Jay said, then switched to yelling “NYA!!!!! WHAT DID YOU DO!?!?!?”

Nya flinched.

“Sorry Jay! I wasn’t even thinking!” she said, while cringing.

Jay huffed and paced.

“Well maybe it won’t be bad?” Lloyd asked.

“OF COURSE, IT’S GOING TO BE BAD! THAT’S HOW WISHES WORK!” Jay yelled.

“Well we can’t do anything about it now. Let’s just keep and eye on him and deal with the consequences when they come.” Cole said.

Except they didn’t.

Kai didn’t remember why Wu was helping him mediate one on one but didn’t really ask. Wu mentioned that he suddenly was doing much better and Kai shrugged it off. It felt like he was forgetting something important, but it also felt like whatever it was, was better left forgotten.

He was the most tired he’d been in his life though. He decided to take a nap, briefly telling the others what he was doing (What was with the weird looks they were giving him?) and went to his room to sleep.

Kai slept for almost two entire days and inhaled the meal Zane made for him when he woke up. After that, he felt great.

Everyone was giving him weird looks but refused to say anything. Finally, Jay asked him what he remembered about the other timeline.

Kai thought for a moment and tilted his head.

“It’s weird.“ he said “I can remember most of what happened, but I don’t….I don’t remember doing it.”

“What do you mean?” Jay asked.

“Well like….I know we fought a djinn and that he framed us. I know he split us apart and that you had to face off against him alone. I know he was trying to marry Nya and that you stopped him with your last wish and undid everything, but I don’t remember what I did or where I was. It’s almost like it’s a story I got told, not something I lived through. I don’t even remember how he tricked me into making any wishes. I don’t even remember what they were, just that it happened.” Kai explained, looking at the wall in thought. “It’s weird. But I guess memories of an erased timeline don’t have to follow normal rules.”

Kai shrugged and asked Jay why he wanted to know. Jay changed the subject.

Kai had exactly one more nightmare, but he couldn’t remember what it was about when he woke up.

Maybe Wu had a point about it being a gift. Perhaps it wasn’t the wishes themselves that were evil. Maybe Nadakhan was just a jerk.

-Ivy

#Mos Ivy #lego ninjago #ninjago #blursed ninjago aus #Djinn Jay #blursed ninjago snippets

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aurilis · 3 years

Text

Known you before, chapter 13 The unexpected ally part 4

Chase makes a discovery about his relation with his father.

He went back to Carmen he helped exiting out first. Her eyes crossed Devineaux senior’s one. She remembered the fear he inspired her the first time they met. Chase noticed that, and glared at his father.

“ Don’t worry, I won’t hurt her.” he sighed.

Chase put down Carmen, that the Bostonian siblings collected with relief.

“ Hey Carm, who’s that man ?” asked Zack.

“ Chase’s father.” said the thief.

“ Wow. Sure looks like him.” commented Ivy, crossing arms.

Father and son walked a bit farther.

“ Mind explaining first how and why did you get here ?” asked Chase.

“ Because I always kept an eye on you. During your whole career, then when you were recruited by that ACME thing. I did it because contrarily to what you think, I care about you a lot. I just didn’t show it the right way.” began Daniel.

“ Understatement.” retorted Chase.

“ I know. I did it all wrong with you. You see, you won’t believe it but I was the overprotecting type. When you were born, it was the second most beautiful day in my life. However, it also worried me like hell. I was in the children crime branch back then, and what I saw there was the very reason I acted the way I did with you.”

Coldness began to fade from Chase’s face. He never knew his father worked in that service. Daniel explained that he was terrified something like in cases he worked on might happen to his child. That was why he was so strict with him. Each time he looked at his child, he thought about others who had the misfortune of meeting insane grown-ups.

“ Remember that time when you went into the woods to retrieve your cousin’s dog ? You didn’t warn anyone. You two disappeared for hours, worrying us sick.”

“ I just remember the scold I got after that.” replied Chase.

“ And not how strong I hugged you seconds before ?” asked Daniel with a faint smile.

Oh yes … now that he said it … it was coming back to his memory. How come he forgot ?

“ That’s the problem. Worry can render aggressive, and that was what showed up with me. I never accepted that you could be hurt. Children fall, sometimes hurts themselves but that’s how they learn. To be honest, if I could have found a desert island where to raise you I would have gone there without second thoughts. Your mother knew it. She told me countless time I should explain my reactions to you, say how worry I was for you. I didn’t listen. And you ended up only remembering of the bad things.” continued Daniel.

Chase was now mouth opened. He had the impression of discovering his father.

“ I thought … you didn’t like me. No matter what I did it was never enough.” he said.

“ Oh son, what I have done to you ? Didn’t like you ? Ask the whole family. Everyone was persuaded we shared a strong bond, given how I was acting with you. Did you know for example the real meaning of the nickname you got at seven ? The little knight in armour ?”

Chase shook his head. He just happened to play knight during a family stay.

“ It’s because your uncle said that day, that only the armour was lacking for you to look like a real knight. To what I answered that if he knew where I could find one I would gladly get it. But to close you in so you could never get wounded. Or that day when I learnt that a miserable kid was bullying you, and I went to explain myself with his father ? Your mother already took you away, so you don’t know what happened. That guy took it lightly. So I lost my cool and just tackled him on the ground, threatening of breaking every bones in his body should you lost a single hair because of his filthy brat. Emeline quite scold me after that, saying what kind of example was I giving to you. She kept it secret, fearing you might believe violence could solve problems. That’s why no one understood why our relation degraded when you reached teenagerhood. When you said you wanted to integrate the police … it was a catastrophe for me. I tried to change your mind, and that’s when it went wrong. I didn’t want you to witness what I witnessed. Every other job would’ve been fine. Just ... not that one. And to top it all, you happened to be good at it. As good as me.” he added.

Chase had a breath. It was the first time he heard a praise coming from his father.

“ Yes, I know. Why do you think I told it wasn’t for you ? I really hoped you would resign, it was my dream. I would have think : it’s okay, he’s safe now. But you didn’t, and even integrated Interpol. Once again, just like me. You following my tracks made me damn proud, but concern was too strong. It was the sole thing that I showed in front of you. With aggressiveness.”

And that was how conflicts began. How Chase got the feeling of being belittled by his father, because of his aggressive reactions. When adults discussed it during family reunions, no one took it seriously at first : teenagerhood was a period of rebellion, of selfishness … it would soon past. But it didn’t. Some warned Daniel that he might end up losing his precious son if he didn’t deign to have a good talk and say the truth.

“ I didn’t listened to them. I too, believed it was because of that period, that once a grown-up you would understand. How could you understand, you weren’t in my head. And three years ago … it happened. When I learnt you collected a foreign teen on the streets, I immediately imagined the worse. That she was flying a criminal past, and her problems would impact you. That’s why I acted that way this day. With the result of you expulsing us from your house, and cutting ties with us. You have no idea how much I blamed myself since. The family couldn’t believe it too. How could it happen ? Emeline put words on it : everyone knew how much I loved my son … excepted him.” ended Daniel.

Chase was dumbfounded. Indeed, he never suspected any of what he said. All of this … because he had been clumsy. Too stubborn to listen to others and take advice, too proud as well maybe, traumatized by his job. Showing concern for his child in the bad way. Daniel added he was sorry. He just wanted to avoid him all kind of pain, but ended doing the exact opposite.

“ So … that’s why you investigated on ACME.” said Chase.

“ Of course. I knew that Fraser from her Interpol time. She simply vanished overnight. I still have some contact within Interpol, who knew … how I truly feel about you. So they kindly accepted to check when she decided to recruit you. She isn’t as invisible as she thought she was.”

Chase kept silent. He had the feeling of daydreaming. Was he zapped by ACME and just imagined this ? But no, it was all real. He wasn’t waking up. Daniel announced it was time to go.

“ Take care, my dear son.”

#carmen sandiego #Where on Earth is Carmen Sandiego #chase devineaux #carchase #agent devineaux #carmeneaux #fanfic #inspector devineaux

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armageddon-generation · 5 years

Text

Batwoman Could’ve Been the PERFECT Batfamily Show

After Gotham ended so recently, Batwoman should've positioned itself as the Ying to that show's Yang by focusing on Batman's allies instead of his enemies.

The 'Bruce disappears hook is a brilliant way to do this

Kate is our audience entry point into this world

ORACLE + GORDON

Barbra Gordon has already been paralysed via The Killing Joke, and hasn't yet become Oracle - she's still recovering

Comissioner Gordon took an early retirement after his daughter was paralysed, which is why Kate's Dad's private security force the Crows runs the streets

Batwoman and the series' events inspire him to return and reclaim Gotham for the Law by the end of season 1

TIM DRAKE + WE ARE ROBIN

Robin disappeared with Batman, so we can introduce the We Are Robin gang. At the beginning of the season they're just criminals, but after Kate defeats their ringleader she shows them a better outlet for their rage, and inspires them. Duke Thomas (future Signal) is among them

Once the we Are Robins are established Tim Drake returns to Gotham. Kate is surprised - few people outside of Gotham know there have been multiple Robins. This way we can explain the different versions to people not in the know

Just like after Bruce was sent back in time in the comics, Tim has gone travelling the world as Red Robin, searching for him. Tim heard about the Robins causing civil unrest and is concerned about them marring Robin's good name.

Tim and Kate clash over the Robins' chaotic, violent modus oprendi - Tim enforces a philosophy of Robin as the light to Batman's dark - promoting positivity, not violence. A loose adaptation of the Robin War storyline follows where Duke Thomas emerges as the Robins' leader and rallies them to be more controlled and less violent

Tim leaves after this mini-arc, satisfied Gotham is in good hands. He also teaches Kate more about the detective side of Batman - he isn't just a blunt instrument. Tim will be our primary link to the 'Bruce's location' mystery throughout the series

NIGHTWING

Dick arrives in Gotham on a case from Bludhaven. Kate thinks he's abandoned Gotham - he should've taken up the mantle while Bruce was gone.

Explore Dick's troubled history with Bruce (not to F**k Batman levels), how Babs being Batgirl caused him to quit, and the one-two punch of Jason Todd's death and Barbra's paralysis only validated his getting out while he could

Tender scenes between Dick and Babs alluding to thier teenage crushes on each other.

As a cop, Dick hates the Crows being on Gotham's streets and more actively conflicts with Kate's father, driving up the tension between them and Batwoman

RED HOOD

This arc would be like a finale-style thing

Jason Todd returns and starts assassinating criminals with the ambition of 'controlling' crime. Kate is a soldier, more brutal than Bruce, so she has greater sympathy for Jay's methods

Jay is after the Joker. Like in The Dark Knight Returns, the Joker has 'retired' to Arkham since Batman left - he got bored pretty quickly. This arc introduces him properly after a few teases earlier in the series.

Jay learns of Barbra's paralysis (which happened after he died) - even then Bruce wouldn't kill him. A scene where Jason visits Babs (little brother/big sister dynamic).

Both Dick and Tim return for this arc, losing their shit over the Joker. Kate's reaction to the Joker is much like Terry McGuiness's in Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker. She doesn't get why everyone is so scared of this stupid clown.

Tim is the one who figures out how Jason was resurrected; just like in the Red robin comic he's been travelling through the world of assassins and knows about the Lazarus Pit.

I think doing the Red Hood arc without Bruce - the main target of Jason's anger - is super interesting. Most people share his anger at Bruce for disappearing.

It also lets us dig deep into the inter-Robin dynamics - Jason hates Dick because he always had to live up to him (do that thing in the comics where Jay had to dye his red hair black to 'look like Robin')

Jay hates Tim for replacing him, for being proof Bruce didn't learn his lesson, for Bruce treating Tim better, the way he should've treated Jason

Kate is instrumental to this arc because, being outside all the drama, she has objectivity. She forces Dick and Tim to get their heads out of their asses and talk to Jason, forces them to confront the problem.

Instead of taking the Joker to Bruce as he does in the Under the Red Hood movie, Jason takes Joker to Babs, who has suffered the most because of him. Confronted with the man who 'ruined' her life, Babs proves bigger and stronger than him. She refuses to kill him. Unlike Jason, she's moving on and growing past her trauma, not looking for revenge.

Joker (being the Joker) turns the tables on Jay and has him at his mercy. Kate swoops in and, like Terry in Return of the Joker, messes with the Joker's head by refusing to take him seriously. The Joker is distracted, screaming about Kate not being Batman, and Babs gets to knock him the fuck out.

Jason escapes, but not before dropping a clue connecting Bruce's disappearance to the League of Assassins

I know the showrunners admitted they have no clue where Bruce is yet, so in my version he's off on some quest with Ras Al Guhl. In the time since he's been gone he's married Talia and had a kid. no-one in Gotham knows this yet.

VILLAINS

We can explore how Batman’s absence has had a strange effect on Gotham's villains - many have gone into states of hibernation similar to the Joker.

Two Face gets his dark Knight Returns plotline where the attempt to repair his face,

Mr Freeze has a similar ‘cure’ story a la Batman Beyond

Clayface (as in the Rebirth run of Detective Comics) is trying to go straight - using his shape-shifting gift to make a name for himself in the movie business. He thinks he's finally been accepted, but people are just sucking up to him because of his talent - the reality of their disgust threatens to push him back over the edge

Without Batman there to fight her, Poison Ivy has pretty much taken over Gotham's main park space, but a kind of stalemate has been reached - she won't attack the city as long as the city doesn't move against her plants.

Kate's central dilemma is navigating these unusual waters - she toys with the idea of putting Ivy behind bars and we get an episode of her exploring the micro-climate of the transformed Park. Kate's disturbance makes Ivy threaten the city, and she has to stretch her underused negotiation muscles to talk her down.

I like the idea of Ivy as an ambivalent character, not good or evil. She'll do whatever she wants. Also she and Kate would have killer sexual chemistry.

Harley. Exploring Harley in such a strongly feminist show would be fascinating. Joker has closed off, given himself up. Harley is forced to fend without him, and finds an antihero niche with the Gotham City Sirens (hi, Ivy!)

With Bruce's disappearance, Wayne enterprises is designing revolutionary new weapons for the Crows. It's revealed that they’re using the Riddler to design these. After Batman disappeared it was presumed Nygma went through therapy and was moved away from Gotham - in fact he's here.

This plot point is inspired by the New 52's Zero Year arc. Kate discovers the foul play when the Crow's systems go haywire because of a virus Nygma planted, sending Gotham into a blackout and giving the Riddler control of its municipal systems

Kate finds Nygma and exposes Wayne Enterprises' corruption, but in the process Riddler escapes.

Similar to Ivy, Kate's appearance excites the Riddler and he reactivates his Saw-like trap rooms across the city. Kate has a different, much blunter way of solving puzzles that frustrates him, used to Bruce's genius-level intellect.

This raises the question - is Batwoman a liability to the city?

BATGIRL(S)/BIRDS OF PREY

With Riddler's re-emergence triggers the appearance of Spoiler. In the comics Stephanie Brown is Cluemaster's daughter, but no-one really gives a shit about him. The benefit of a decade-plus old Batman means his rogues gallery can easily have kids - Stephanie had her name changed in witness protection.

Steph helps Kate beat the Riddler in collaboration with Bab's hacking skills. Kate sees potential in Spoiler and sends her to Babs to be trained.

As Batwoman's appearance reawakens super-crime in Gotham, the Crows get desperate. They hire world- renowned assassin David Cain to start taking out targets

Intro Cassandra Cain.

Cass + Steph + Babs are this series' version of the Birds of Prey

Babs teaches Cass sign-language to communicate. Steal her friendship with Clayface from the Rebirth Detective Comics - Clayface leaves the movie business again because it was unhealthy, and is trying to do good

Everyone is very protective of Cass and determined she won't fight

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riviae · 4 years

Text

there are times when the grief of it all—what he has lost, the hand he played in marching his friends into the very maw of death—overwhelms geralt.

he has never found sleep easy, but there are some nights where the memories eat away at him. the guilt has a hunger that threatens to strip him bare, leave nothing but the bones and aches of a life lived on the edge of a bloodied sword. geralt had never been afraid of death until he had people he cared about. perhaps he had been afraid of the pain, the suddenness, or worse, the possible torture of a slow death, but death itself? it was a mercy all witchers sought at one time or another; when you are shown only hate and fear, when your only option is to be shunned or despised, any end to that would be seen as a gift.

geralt cursed to himself. he had been wandering aimlessly through the night, and yet, he found himself in front of a certain graveyard.

when he had first visited the mère-lachaiselongue cemetery, before he knew that regis was alive, he had found that unlike most places he passed in his travels, mère-lachaiselongue tugged stubbornly at his heart, so much so that a sprig of homesickness seemingly took root overnight. there was something achingly familiar about the ivy-covered mausoleum nestled within the forest of gravestones and oaks, something familiar in the scattered dark feathers of the ravens roosting on the roof that stared back with ancient, coal black eyes.

(it had only been a moment, but as he ushered roach back onto the dirt path, geralt had thought he caught the familiar scent of herbs--of basil, cinnamon, and thyme--in the wind. but then it was gone, just another ghost of a memory he could not put to rest.)

now, as he approached the crypt, he saw that there was a lantern by the door, its flame glowing a soft gold in the dark. it was a new moon, and despite his mutations his sight was limited, the pitch-black of night swallowing what existed in his periphery, leaving him with what amounted to tunnel vision unless he took another potion of cat. instead, he picked up the lantern with a soft smile and found himself opening the door and descending the stairs before he could convince himself that he shouldn’t.

the vampire’s living quarters did not smell of death or decay--there was but a light musk of the old tomes that lined the wooden shelves and geralt felt some measure of tension leave his body at the calming scent of herbs. once upon a time, the scent had been strong and pungent, but like any scent someone is subjected to long enough, it eventually loses its strength. now, it reminded him of a forest, of six figures huddled around a campfire, of a home that only existed in his memories.

“geralt,” regis says, tone pleasant and light as he continues to stir the contents within the large black cauldron, his back turned to the witcher. “what a lovely surprise. can i help you with something, my friend?”

whatever reply rests on the tip of his tongue suddenly does not feel enough. he wants to say regis, i’m sorry. and why don’t you hate me? you died because of me, and everywhere i go in toussaint brings back another memory i’ve tried to bury and it feels like i’m losing my mind. instead, the witcher says,“did you know that the kitchen table in beauclair palace hasn’t been replaced yet?”

the vampire turns around, leaving the large ladle in the cauldron without a forethought. geralt blinks once and then regis is in front of him, less than an arm’s length away.

in the dim light of the crypt, regis’ eyes glow a haunting silver as he reaches towards geralt. the warmth and weight of the vampire’s hand against his own is not unpleasant and he doesn’t even realize that regis has gently extracted the lantern from his knuckle-white grasp until it is resting alone on a nearby slab of stone. the witcher’s hands are trembling as if he’s stayed out too long in a frigid downpour, but he can’t understand why they are shaking now. he’s not afraid of regis--never has been, really. not even when he had first flashed his too-sharp teeth in a mocking sneer all those years ago.

there’s a sudden, strange sense of dissociation, as if he’s not really in his body--as if it’s not his body at all. he doesn’t recognize it, the sudden trembling, the quickened heart-beat thudding in his ears, but it reminds him faintly of what he feels at the cusp of terror. the times where he had stared death in the face with nothing but a sword at his side.

there is nothing to fear here, yet his legs crumble underneath him all the same, the dull ache in his bad knee rising to a painful crescendo. it is only thanks to regis that he doesn’t shatter his kneecap again, the vampire’s strong hold allowing for his knees to only lightly skim the floor. the witcher is barely supporting his own weight now, his heart still galloping at a rate much faster than it should as regis tugs him closer, tucking him gently against him.

“it’s alright... you’re alright, geralt,” regis says softly, listening to the minute changes within the witcher’s circulatory system. “i’m here, with you. i’m not going anywhere. you’re safe here.”

the words pierce through the fog within geralt’s mind, bringing him briefly back into the present. even in the worst of times, regis had been an anchor, something to cling to when he felt like his world was crumbling around him.

(& then, suddenly, he had withered away--became ash, a crumbling pillar, another casualty that geralt somehow survived. a thing he shouldn’t have survived, but did. he outlived so many of his friends, so many of his companions... how much loss could one person take before it drove them mad? geralt wasn’t sure, but he felt himself teetering on the edge of some great precipice, unsure of what rested on the other side.)

he hasn’t had regis back for long and he was still getting used to having the vampire in his life. in having someone he got to keep, to cherish. someone who knew what he had gone through, who had seen it with his own dark eyes and emerged from the rubble all the same. it was difficult, learning to rely on others, but geralt felt his hands unconsciously dig into the soft fabric of regis’ shirt, felt himself press closer to the vampire, still trembling, still on the edge of breaking, but soothed somewhat by the gentle beat of regis’ heart.

“i still hear it,” he confesses, sorrow stuck in his throat. “everyone’s screams. your screams.”

“geralt...” regis breathes, this time running a comforting hand through the witcher’s hair. “you aren’t to blame for any of that. we knew what we signed up for. everyone knew the risks, the likelihood of survival. it was our choice, geralt. don’t ever think that you had some nefarious role in this; you did not force anyone to go to stygga. you did not kill them. their deaths are not your burden to bear.”

“that may be true... but if we hadn’t all met, if i had just gone on this journey alone... they’d all still be alive. you wouldn’t have suffered the way that you did, regis. that i know for sure.”

“that may be true, but they also wouldn’t have lived. don’t you see, geralt? we loved being in your company. in becoming friends. our lives all collided for a reason--and i think we all became better people because of it. i don’t think anyone--not milva, dandelion, cahir, or dear angouleme--would have chose a different path even if they knew how it was all to end. destiny was not kind, in the end, but i daresay knowing you, geralt, changed us all.” regis paused, voice soft with adoration. “you have no idea how you affect people. how your natural kindness, your desire to do the right thing, no matter how difficult, inspires goodness in others. i know you would sacrifice everything for us... it’s only fair that you let them do the same, without guilt. let them rest, geralt. there is no need to torture yourself over things you had no control over.”

at his words, geralt felt the rare sting of tears. his mutations had almost made the ability to produce tears impossible--but perhaps it was the years of loneliness, years of wishing things had gone differently, only to hear the kind words of one of his closest friends absolving him of such guilt, that made the tears spring forth. he cried silently, wetting the edge of regis’ collar.

the vampire said nothing, but held him tighter all the same.

he cried until he could cry no longer, until he was so tired that his eyes began to close against his will. it was a start, he thought, just as he slipped into unconsciousness. it was a start in accepting all that had happened in his long life. but he had regis, he had ciri, he had yen, he had dandelion, and he had the other wolf school witchers--his own family of choice. the family he had made for himself.

he didn’t need to face his grief alone. never again.

#geralt of rivia #emiel regis #tw panic attack #tw grief #haha..... guess who wrote more angst??#this is sad but it does end in hurt/comfort #also ambiguous geralt/regis relationship so take it however u want it #i've had this in my drafts for months so it's not perfect by any means... i just wanted something vent-y y'know

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certain-as-the-sun · 4 years

Text

Hey Jealousy

A High School-is AU. Inspired by the Gin Blossoms’ song of the same name. Contains: Alcohol Abuse, miscarriage, unwanted sexual touching.

Hey Jealousy

Tell me do you think it'd be all right If I could just crash here tonight You can see I'm in no shape for driving And anyway I've got no place to go And you know it might not be that bad You were the best I'd ever had If I hadn't blown the whole thing years ago I might not be alone

It was a rainy night. Belle sat in her father’s house on the edge of town, far enough away that she got the peace and quiet she craved, but still close enough that running errands into town wouldn’t take all day. She sat in her favorite chair, a hot mug of tea steaming beside her. Her bookcase gleamed in the firelight, beckoning her to choose from her vast collection. Tonight was a night she didn’t want to dwell on. Five years ago her whole world changed. Her first love had been lost to her. Her true love if she still believed in fairy tales. They had been so good together. They had their lives figured out. She would finish school, open her bookshop and live happily ever after. Fate it seemed, was not as kind. The accident wasn’t Adam’s fault. He knew that, but it didn’t stop people from talking. Small town like theirs, it didn’t take long for word to spread about the group of teenage boys who took a joy ride that left one dead.

Adam never could hold his alcohol. He tried so many times to quit. Rehab, counseling. Through it all, there had been Belle. She was the one constant in his ever changing life. He was trying. He was trying to be who he needed to be, who Belle needed him to be. But there are some demons that are just too hard to get rid of. Orphaned at ten, bounced around from home to home. He was an angry young man, a temper that could explode at the smallest of things. He starting drinking at a young age, stealing what he could from his less than desirable foster parents. He fell in with the wild crowd. The kind of boys who stole cars, drank, partied hard. It landed him in a group home for at-risk boys.

He was adopted at sixteen by an older gay couple. Cogsworth and Lumiere could not have been more opposite in their manners and appearance. Cogsworth was portly and fussy. Lumiere was flamboyant and loud. Between them, they showered Adam with the love and acceptance he had so desperately needed. They got him into AA, helped him find a good sponsor, someone Adam could always call when and if he needed to talk to someone other than his dads. Hatter whose real name Adam never knew, had been a foster kid too, adopted as an older teen. Hatter understood the pressure Adam felt, the loneliness that came from a life spent apart. Between the three men loving Adam he was able to stay clean for over a year.

Belle was an only child to a widowed clockmaker. She was an honor student, on the fast track to the Ivy League. They met when Cogsworth signed Adam up for an English tutor. Cogsworth valued education and wanted Adam to improve so he could attend college and make something of himself. At first Adam and Belle wanted nothing to do with each other. He didn’t think he needed a tutor and not one as attractive as Belle was. His teenage brain envisioned her as the naughty librarian he had seen in dirty magazines. Acting on horrid advice from his friends, he was rude and demeaning. His efforts were rewarded with a slap and disgust. At home that evening, he sought out better advice. Cogsworth told the boy to write her an apology. Lumiere told him to bring her a rose. Hatter, the straight man in his life agreed that Adam had treated Belle poorly, asked him what he was going to do about it. Adam had to do better.

And better he did. He apologized, profusely. Belle wasn’t sure she could trust him. She knew who he hung around with. But they started spending time together. Little by little the real Adam shone through. Behind the tough as nails exterior he showed the world, he allowed Belle to see him. He could very kind to those in need. He organized toy drives for foster kids. Once at the store when the cloud let loose a deluge of water, he offered to pull her car up for an elderly woman so she wouldn’t get drenched to the bone.

He still had his temper. If his temper got the better of him, Belle wouldn’t stand for it. More times she left him where he was standing when he was losing it. He’d never hurt her but she wouldn’t take that chance. He scared her badly one night. They had been in his room and she had accidentally knocked over a framed photograph. The glass broke and damaged the photo. He roared with anger and before he realized what was happening he had tossed everything from his desk and slammed his fist into the wall. She ran from the room. In his angered haze, he heard her cries from the living room. He stopped thrashing and stepped into the hall. She was still there. Seated on the couch, his dads on either side of her. Cogsworth shook his head at his son.

Anger management with Hatter came next. He never wanted to see anyone he cared about be subject to his temper. He wrote Belle a letter, even mailed it. He never knew if she read it but she did forgive him.

The day of the accident started bad. His anniversary of sobriety was coming up. He would be two years clean. A milestone for any addict. It was little things piling up to big things. A memory of his parents, long gone from his life. A bad grade on a test he and Belle had studied so hard for. An argument between Adam and Cogsworth about grades and school. A misunderstanding between Lumiere. The anger simmered to a full boil. A temper flare from Adam had him storming out of the house. Deep in the back of his mind he knew what he had to do. He needed to call Hatter. Get his head on straight.

He could call Belle. But she was busy. She had an interview in the morning. An interview that could make or break her college plans. She didn’t need him distracting her. Maybe she would let him just sleep in her bed while she prepared. If he was with her, he could calm down and be able to go home and apologize. If he was with her he wouldn’t be able to do something stupid. Pausing over her contact, a text popped up.

Pre-game with boys. Don’t be a wuss.

He had been ducking texts like these for weeks. Gaston was from his old life. A life he didn’t want anymore. Gaston had been his best friend once upon a time. Before his dads. Before Hatter. Before Belle. Adam dropped Gaston soon after he began seeing Belle near constantly. Belle hated Gaston. She found his crass and chauvinistic behavior revolting. Rumor has it he had three kids with three different girls.

When he and Belle first started dating, he took her to a party that Gaston was throwing. He had taken over his parents cabin in the woods. Everyone from school was there, even people from other schools that had heard about the bash in the woods. Cars lined the dirt road leading up to the cabin. You could hear the party before you saw it. Belle, to put it plainly was not a party girl. Her idea of a Friday night was spent at the small bookstore on Main Street, browsing and putting books on layaway. Mrs. Potts, the owner kept a log of Belle’s books and would sometimes write off a few when she needed to. Belle was happiest when she and Adam had dinner together at the cafe next door to the bookstore and just took a walk in the park. But she agreed. Adam had been doing so well and she thought it was only fair that she share in his world when he spent so much time in hers.

Gaston saw them first. The feeling between Gaston and Belle was mutual. He blamed her for changing Adam from the guy he was to the guy he is. Behind her back he called her a bitch, a nag, killjoy. The tall, broad teenager with coal black hair strode up to them as they entered the house, a bottle of beer in his hand. He snapped his fingers at Kevin to get Adam a drink. He saw red when Belle took Adam’s hand and shook her head when the small portly boy offered them both bottles. He was going to take her down a peg or two.

It took some time but he finally got Adam and Belle separated. She had gotten tree sap on her hand when they had gone outside. She was expecting Adam to be waiting for her outside the bathroom when she came back out from washing her hands. But he wasn’t. He had gotten pulled into a conversation with Gaston’s latest blonde. She started towards him when Gaston got in her path.

“Never thought little miss perfect would grace us with her presence,” Gaston taunted. “Thought you were too good to hang out with the likes of us.” He leaned closer to her, pushing her back against the wall. “Not sure what my boy Adam sees in a frigid bitch like you.”

His breath reeked of stale beer, corn ships and tobacco. He ran his hand over her bare shoulder, she had lost her sweater somewhere. She tried to move out Gaston’s way but he caged her. “Gaston, please. Just leave us alone.”

“I want to know what kind of spell you got my boy under,” he said, his hand moving its way down her body, over her. Tears stung her eyes. Where was Adam? “Maybe if I get a taste, I might understand.”

“Stop it, please.”

Across the room Adam caught sight of his girlfriend. He pushed through the crowd of drinking people. Gaston had Belle pressed against the wall, his hands on her. Without thinking he charged at Gaston shoving him away from Belle.

“Get away from her!” Adam all but growled. He kept himself between Belle and Gaston, his fists balled. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“She came on to me man!” Gaston argued. “I told you. I warned you about her. She’s a bitch. You’re better off without her.”

“Adam let’s just go,” Belle said, putting her hand on his arm. “He’s not worth it. Let’s just go.”

“Shut up, you stupid —“ Gaston didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Adam swung his fist forward and knocked his former best friend square in his jaw.

“You will not speak to my girlfriend like that ever again,” Adam said. He took Belle’s hand and they left. Alone in her car he held her close as she cried. No one had ever touched her like that before. Not even Adam. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’d never come if I thought that’s what he’d do. Please, I’m so sorry.”

Staring at the text, it was a siren’s call. If he was honest with himself, he did miss his friend. Hanging with he boys would be the easy choice. It would be so easy to just fall into a stupor with the boys. He wouldn’t have to think about anything else. Not school, not his dads, not even Hatter. He knew what he needed to do. The siren call was stronger. He wanted to go. He wanted to fall into oblivion. He could fall for one night and when the dust settled he would start over. That was the life an addict. He knew what he needed to do and did what he wanted. He made the easy choice.

Where you at? Three words. That’s all it took to ruin his life. Three words.

The ravine. And don’t bring that bitch.

Don’t call her that.

Three hours later Adam had fallen off the wagon hard. He had drunk two bottles of Stoli, his hard liquor of choice and finished off a six pack of a cheap beer Stanley brought. Once he started Adam couldn’t stop. He couldn't have just one drink. He would keep going until he couldn’t see straight. When Adam polished off what they others had brought they went to get more. Driving a town over and with Stanley’s fake ID and Cogsworth’s credit card, the boys loaded up with more. Two more bottles of Stoli down and Adam was drunker than he had been in his life.

Neither Adam or Gaston had any business driving. The only sober one among the boys that night was Kevin also known as LeFou. Kevin was Gaston’s lackey. The small, overweight, nerdy boy just wanted to be popular. He did Gaston’s homework, really anything Gaston wanted. He was in the backseat with Adam that night. Gaston sped down the road, the radio screaming profanity laced rock. Reckless and stupid. Empty bottles rolled around the back of the car. They were invincible. On top of the world. Until they weren’t.

No one was sure as to the exact nature of the accident that left one dead, two severely injured and one with minor cuts and scrapes. Kevin, the sweet boy who just wanted to belong was dead. Stanley walked away. Gaston had severe brain damage and would likely require twenty-four/seven care for the rest of his life. Adam broke his right collarbone, the three bones in his right arm, the femur of his right leg and had broken glass embedded in his face. Scars he would bear for the rest of his life.

Belle, Hatter and his dads sat constant vigil by his side while he recovered from surgery. His handsome face distorted and scarred from the accident. Mixed emotions filled Belle. Anger, betrayal, hurt, sadness. How could he do this? Interview or not, he could have called her. Should have called her. In fact, he had called her. Several times. The first time she answered. She heard the shouts and loud music in the background. In his slurred speech he told her how much he loved her and how he was sorry. She begged him to tell her where he was. She would come get him and take him home. Get him to Hatter and his dads. Get him sober again. He wouldn’t listen. After the calls ended, texts came through. At first they were from Adam. Drunken decelerations of love. Disjointed thoughts of an unclear mind. Then they changed. They called her names, demeaned her. She turned her phone off. Adam had to be beyond reason if he let Gaston talk to her in such a way.

Adam and Stanley had to be the ones to face the music when it came down to blame for the accident. They each took a lesser sentence, community service, mandatory rehab, counseling and they were expelled. Adam became the worst version of himself. Guilt over took him. He withdrew into himself, became bitter, letting his anger consume him. If he did speak to anyone, there was no kindness in his words. Belle stood by him, did her best to help him through the darkness. Her breaking point came during her second year of college. He had done well over the holidays. He was getting better. So when the stick said Pregnant she was able to think to the future again. They had taken their lives day by day for the last two years. She could see a glimmer of hope in their darkness.

Fate, cruel as always, laughed. He had been working at the grocery store when she came in. Gaston’s mother. Seeing Adam whole set her grief anew. He stood there unmoving as she berated him, blamed him for everything that happened that night. Her son wouldn’t do the things they had said about him. Adam was a dirty orphan who drug her son down with him. Management lead her away from him but the damage had been done. In a stupor he walked out of the store grabbing a bottle of his poison on the way out. He missed her calls. Ignored them. Ignored everyone as he drank himself stupid again.

Belle was done. She could only watch him destroy himself for so long. And losing her child was the final straw.

“I won’t sit by and watch you drink yourself to death,” she said. “I can’t do it anymore.”

The last time she saw Adam, he had passed out on her dorm room floor. The last she heard he’d voluntarily checked himself into an in patient clinic. Belle kept in contact with Lumiere and Cogsworth. They came to her graduation when her own father was too ill to make the drive. They stood by her when she lost her father. The two men rarely mentioned Adam except in passing. He was out of rehab. Seemed to be doing well. He was working. Stocking shelves at a big box store. Somewhere he didn’t have to see customers.

Belle sighed away the memories and stood up from her chair and took out her favorite book. A leather bound copy of Sense and Sensibility. Opening it at random, dried flowers fell from the pages. Tucked between another page was a yellowing piece of notebook paper. A letter. A letter from Adam in the Before.

My Belle,

It feels so great to be able to call you mine. I know I’m not the easiest guy you could be with. I’m so grateful that you are. As promised, I’m doing better. Learning to take a breath to settle my anger before speaking. I need to explain what happened. The photo in my room, was my mother. The only thing I managed to keep throughout my childhood and moves. I am so sorry that I lost my temper. It wasn't acceptable behavior and I know that. I am going to forever be working on myself, to be who you need me to be.

I love you, Belle. Don’t give up on me.

Yours always,

Adam

She slid the letter back into the book. That Adam was long gone. He had a way with words. One minute he was a master poet, extolling words of love and devotion. But there was the other side of the coin. His words, when used in anger could tear a person down and leave them shattered. But that was then. She was a different person now.

You can trust me not to think And not to sleep around If you don't expect too much from me You might not be let down Cause all I really want is to be with you Feeling like I matter too If I hadn't blown the whole thing years ago I might be here with you

His shift was ending. He didn’t have anywhere to be. His dads had taken a cruise, trusting they could leave Adam home alone for the first time in years. He didn’t have many friends that he could call to see if they wanted to grab a bite. In fact not counting Hatter, he didn’t have anyone he could call anymore. He took out his phone to check the time. It was just after eight. Jack in the Box would still be open. He could go there, eat a cheap burger and fries and go home. He smiled sadly looking at the picture that was a perfect moment in time. Belle. Lumiere had taken the photo. Together on the tire swing in the backyard. They had been so happy. Back when she was still his. Back before everything went to hell.

He still had her number in his phone. He never called it. He was sure she’d hang up on him before he ever got a word spoken. That was if she hadn’t blocked his number altogether. There was so much he wanted to tell her. To apologize for. He loved her. Loved her enough that he would be okay if she never came back to him. Not that the sting of jealousy didn’t bite him in the ass when he saw her with someone else.

He had seen her from afar so many times over the years. She still called his dads when something good happened to her. They would always tell him if she was coming over or if they had talked to her. Adam never asked Cogsworth or Lumiere to say he was thinking of her. That he still loved her with all the passion he still had. He wouldn’t do that to her. Not again.

He found himself walking in the rain. After the accident, he never drove again. He wasn’t sure where he was going until he found himself outside her house. She was sitting in front of the fire reading, like she always did. Taking a breath, he walked away from the window and to the front door. He pressed the doorbell and waited.

Belle never imagined who would be on the other side of her door.

“Adam?”

“Belle.” No matter how many years passed by, Adam saying her name was enough to send shockwaves through her whole body.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I know if I hadn’t messed up that night, I wouldn’t be standing out here in the rain,” he said, his blue eyes staring at her. “There are so many things that I’ve done that I’m not proud of. Hurting you, driving you away will always be on the top of my list.”

“You really hurt me, Adam. How can I ever trust you again?”

He fished something out of his pocket. A bronze colored coin. Belle had seen the collection of sobriety coins Hatter had. Hatter was eighteen years sober. So often they just wanted to get Adam to thirty days. Thirty days. Then to ninety days. To a hundred and eighty. To one year. The bronze coin in his hand had a 2 stamped in the center of it.

“Two years, yesterday Belle,” he said. “730 days. Dad and Pop came to the meeting. Hatter actually cried.”

Two years. Belle tried to imagine Hatter crying. The thought made her giggle. She caught his eye and in an instant it was like they were seventeen again. He pulled her to him, expression nervous but hopeful as he waited for her to make the next move. Maybe it was too much to hope he would take her back so soon. But she had to know. Had to know there would never be another for him. She was it. He would spend the rest of his life making up for the last five years of hell he put them through. He needed and wanted her with every fiber of being. She must have seen it, weighed the consequences in her own mind. Seconds passed and her lips crashed into his, igniting a passion she had long buried. He walked her backwards into the house, kicking the door closed behind them. Between their increasingly fervent kisses, he was apologizing.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Maurice died,” he said as she pulled his wet coat from him. “I’m sorry for passing out in your yard.”

“Adam, if you list everything you’re sorry for, you’ll be here until Christmas.”

Christmas sounded good to Adam. He could spend a Christmas with Belle. A birthday with Belle. God, was this really happening? Was she really there? He had to be sure.

“Am I really here?” he whispered into her hair, holding her close to him.

“Yes, you’re really here. I’m here.” Belle traced the marks on his face.

“You can count on me now, Belle. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“Prove it.”

A low chuckle escaped his throat as he kissed her again. He drank her in, every sight, every scent mixing with memories. Lifting her into his arms holding her close. He pressed her against the wall, his lips finding all the places that brought her pleasure. The places only he knew. Her legs wrapped around him, as if they had never been apart.

Her senses came back to her first. She shouldn’t be doing this. She shouldn’t let him back into her life. She knew the risks and her heart could only break so many times.

“Wait, Adam. Stop. Put me down,” she said. With her feet on the ground, her head was coming out of the clouds.

“Belle? Aren’t you happy I’m back?”

“Oh, Adam,” she sighed. “I have wanted nothing but for you to be sober and happy. But I can’t be the root of your happiness. I won’t survive it again.”

He nodded. He’d heard this before, from his fathers, from Hatter. He expected it from Belle. She had been hurt the most by his actions. Because she could walk away.

“I understand Belle. I do. It will take more than just words and promises. Because I’ve said and done things that I am not proud of. I’ve hurt you. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. I love you.”

He took out his phone, opening the notes app. Scrolling down he found a letter he had written to her during his final rehab stay. He began to read.

“My dearest Belle, there is nothing that I can say that will ever make up for my behavior. There is nothing I regret more. I lie here in my bed thinking about what — no not what — who we lost. Who they could have been if they’d had a better father. I will never forgive myself for walking away. Walking away from you, from what you meant — mean to me. I am so sorry that you were alone. I am sorry that my selfish wants overtook me when you needed me most. Nothing I can ever do will make up for that. In the worst moment of your — our lives, you were alone. And that is not right. It will never be right. And if you can ever forgive me, I will work forever to earn back your love and your trust. And even if you never can, knowing that I tried will be enough for me. I love you Belle. I love you enough to walk away if that’s what you want from me.”

He stopped reading and looked up at her. “What do you want Belle?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “You. Demons and all.”

#hey jealousy #beauty and the beast #beauty and the beast fan fic #gin blossoms #inspired by music

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inter-bellum · 4 years

Text

You deserve to be happy

Song: There for you - Martin Garrix + Troye Sivan (!) I will follow you into the dark - Death cab for cutie (Covered by YUNGBLUD and Halsey)

So, this fanfic is inspired on this post (you have no idea how long it took me to have a link that included all the reblogs). Of course I got a little very carried away and it turned 4 pages long. Oh well, I hope it lives up to your expectations, @princess-of-fandom!! The quote at the end is part of this post by @dylanholyhellobrien. With all the credits given, enjoy!! (if you feel like the improper credits were given, be sure to dm me, I don’t mind at)

PS: I don’t have ao3 hence why I post it here. If you want to post it anywere, ao3 or fanfiction.net, on behalf of me, you can, but please give the proper credits and message me so that I can check it out :)

Unedited (I tried my best, but English isn’t my native language.)

The contours of the trees that lined the horizon finally regained shape under the guidance of the first sun rays. In the dead of the night, the huts, tents and trees had blotched together with the sky to assemble ill-proportioned shadows that made Thomas’s heartbeats rise to feverish heights.

The hammock wobbled as he swung his legs over the edge to find solid ground. He steadied himself against the stripped bark of the pole and counted his breaths until they were calm and measured.

“Beautiful, huh?” Minho said when he noticed Thomas’ gaze on the horizon. His face finally started to lose the last traces WCKD’s experiment. The light in his eyes has returned in full force and gone was the ghostly white sheen on his cheeks.

Thomas didn’t share the sentiment. “It’s too alike.”

Minho sighed. “But it will never be the same.” There was one thing that still seemed in WCKD’s possession; the fire that lingered in his friend’s voice, the kind that used to deliver his characteristic snarky comments tirelessly. Or perhaps it wasn’t WCKD that took it.

They watched as the sun climbed higher and higher and other immunes starting to appear from their tents. A couple people Thomas had befriended during the course of the first few weeks greeted them as they strolled by.

“You’re hungry?” Minho, who still by his side, jerked his chin over to where Frypan was preparing what seemed to be a thick soup. Just when Thomas was about to say no, hunger hit him like a punch in the gut.

“Yeah, sure.” He ignored the relieved look his friend shot him.

The familiar sound of pots and pans scraping against the metal of spoon and knife like tools reached them, Frypan looked up and tossed them a wave.

“Saved something for you, shanks.”

A bowl with soup was thrust into his hands. Thomas brought it to his lips, avoiding the chipped edges. It tasted like wet ashes in his mouth, something frequent when it came to food, but it was better than nothing. He smiled and nodded at Fry before wiping his mouth.

After breakfast, he and Minho headed to fields. As one of the first things to establish, it started to become larger day by day.

Soon, it will be bigger than the gardens in the Glade.

That was like another punch in the gut. Thomas staggered on his feet. The only thing that kept him spiraling down to the ground was the smooth weight of the necklace. It was all he had. Whenever his heart would be choked by grief, unable to beat any longer, Thomas’d swear the necklace started beating instead, reminding him of his friend’s wishes. You deserve to be happy.

“Are you okay?” Minho’s face swam into focus. Thomas managed to respond with a shaky nod.

“Yeah... yeah, don’t worry ‘bout me. I’m... fine.” The last word needed to be wrenched of his tongue but he was glad that his voice didn’t crack. To strengthen his reassurance, Thomas grabbed a shovel and set to work.

The day gliding by, like a boat on the peaceful water. Large campfires were howling their scorching anguish to the night sky as people gathered around them. Thomas watched as the workers started to leave the fields, collecting the shovels in various bins of all shapes and sizes that stood near the entrances.

One of the boys who had worked alongside him walked past him. Upon noting that Thomas was still rooted in the same spot, he freed himself from the group.

“We’re roundin’ up, Tommy.”

Tommy. The moment he closed his eyes, he was back in the maze-like realms of his mind. Where memories piled up on top of memories to create the walls and ivy sealing them away from focus. Now they were moving, and the ivy was tearing like wet paper.

Tommy

“Don’t!” Thomas lurched forward to grab the boy’s shirt, nearly lifting him off his feet. “Don’t,” he repeated. “Don’t ever call me that, only he could!”

Thomas felt himself being janked away by someone. Other people entered from the side of his blurred vision, crowding him and the other boy. He lowered his eyes to the ground. A hand clamped around his shoulder for the second time this day.

“Allright, slim it everyone.” Minho’s voice topped that of the other’s as he stood besides Thomas, with his hand still on his back. The murmur remained among the immunes as their gaze drifted from Thomas to the shell-shocked boy, whose eyes already harboured a faint understanding.

“Okay.” Minho muttered once the crowd had settled down. Thomas could feel his friend’s gaze tracing the edges of his face. “Thomas, what happened, man?”

“He…” Thomas struggled to catch his breath. “He called me Tommy.”

“He… what?” Minho blinked stupidly. Like… Like he has forgotten who’d always say that.

Thomas had already turned around, shrugging his way through the crowd, ignoring Minho’s calls. The blurry remnants of unshed tears dotted his vision as he stumbled down the path. The soft earth underneath his feet turned into the fine sand of the beach. Large waves were smashed against the sides of the ship while others reached the shore, dumping their foamy residue in the sand before retreating again.

He pursued his trek along the beach. Looking back over his shoulder, he could see the smoke of fire trying to reach for the moon until they were shattered and dispersed by the wind. The sound of laughter was drowned out by that of the waves as Thomas neared a large rock formation. Amidst the asymmetrical blocks of grey sat a black, rounded stone with a name notched into it. Upon coming closer you could see delicate leaves carved underneath the name.

Thomas didn’t know when he stopped visiting Newt, but now that he was here, it felt like coming home to an empty house. He sank to his knees while soft sobs wretched themselves past his lips.

Instead of saying something to the boy sleeping beneath the stone, Thomas settled on shifting the sand through his fingers, gathering the grains in small piles besides the grave. Thomas watched the tide change.

“Thought you’d be here.” Minho took his place next to Thomas.

“Sorry, I just… I just lost my shit when-”

Minho cut him off. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Clyde’s not mad.”

Absence of either of their voices left the silence to be filled by the sound of waves and screams of seagulls.

“Is this a closed meeting or can we join?” Brenda’s voice filled the silence. She, Gally and Frypan were standing behind them, holding a bottle of what seemed to be the drink Gally used to make back in the Glade.

As an answer, Thomas scooted to one side to make room and together they formed a semi circle around Newt’s grave. The silence was filled by the waves once more while they passed the bottle from hand to hand until it was empty.

“Do you remember, Gally? When we snuck into Fry’s pantry to steal some jam and using it to dye Newt’s hair?” Minho suddenly asked.

Between a couple snorts of laughter Gally managed to muster a nod.

“So it was you?” Frypan gave both of them an incredulous look. Thomas could laughter bubbling from his lips.

“Why did I never hear of this story?”

Gally shrugged. “Newt can be pretty scary when he places a knife on your throat in the middle of the night…” The grumpy faced blond shuddered.

“At least he got the jam out.” Fry muttered.

“Not completely, though,” Thomas could feel a grin making its way on his face. “I remember when coming up in the box, Newt’s hair had this pink shine.”

Each story or memory that came afterwards earned round of loud laughter. Brenda, at some point, went back to the camp to get some more drinks and the laughter went on.

You deserve to be happy. Maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t as far away as Thomas thought.

“If there is a reason why I’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died, I’m willing to wait for it.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #the maze runner #the scorch trials #the death cure #tmr #tmr newt #tmr thomas #tmr frypan #tmr gally #tmr brenda #tmr fanfic #this took sooooo long #but im reasonable pleased #i think

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whitecatindisguise · 4 years

Text

The Sundrop Alchemist (2)

Me: Writes prologue and two chapters of the story in just two days and posts all, because I have no idea when the inspiration will go away. It always does...

Anyway, here’s chapter 2.

Summary: Varian finally gathers courage and asks Mother to leave the tower. Only for one night... for his birthday... She should agree, right?

AO3 link is here

------

Chapter 2: The Birthday Lights

Varian pursed his lips, reminding himself to be brave. He was going to do it. He was going to ask Mother.

He heard a familiar female voice calling out for him at the bottom of the tower. With a resolve in his heart, he opened the window and threw down his hair, securing it over the wheel. Soo, he felt a tug and proceed to lift Mother up.

She looked rather tired, which was no surprise, considering she has to travel a long way this time. Varian didn’t know where exactly Mother went off to this time, but she was gone for several days, so it has to be really far.

“Ah, you’re getting better at this.” The woman praised, patting his blonde hair in approval. He blushed a little at the appraisal.

It was true. When earlier it took him several minutes to lift Mother up to the windowsill, now it was just a matter of half a minute.

“You behaved while I was gone, I presume.” Mother went on, setting down her basket and turning to him. She opened her arms and he gladly launched at her, hugging the woman.

He missed her those days she was gone. She didn’t spend as much time in the tower as she did when he was younger, but she still tried to come every second day. This was the longest she was away, as far as he remembered.

“I missed you, Mother.” He mumbled at her chest and she patted him again. He unlaced his arms and took a step back. Mother didn’t like it when he hugged her for too long. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Aw, I’m sorry to leave you alone for so long, Flower.” She made a sad face and cupped his cheek affectionately. “Mother had some things to take care of.”

“I understand, Mother.” Varian nodded. He stood still for a moment. “Oh, I’ve tried out a new recipe from the book you gave me!” He remembered, running up to the oven and taking out a tray of sweet-smelling cookies. “I wanted you to be the first one to try them.”

Gingerly, he offered the tray to the woman. She eyed the confections cautiously. Both of them knew Varian loved experimenting, was it with alchemy, engineering OR cooking.

“I-I didn’t add anything weird this time, I promise.” The boy supplied, red spreading at his cheeks. “I followed the recipe to the dot.”

“Well, let’s see if it’s edible then, shall we?” Mother joked and picked up one cookie. She bit a small piece and nibbled on it in silence.

Varian held his breath, as Mother ate. Was it good? Bad? Too sweet? Too bitter? Maybe he forgot some ingredient? He was so pumped up about the recipe, he might have forgotten something.

Finally, Mother swallowed the piece. There was a moment of silence as she thought about her judgement. Varian thought he could die just there, if she didn’t like it.

“Well…” She spoke up and Varian hang to every word. This was it. “... seems like not everything you do must end with disaster.” She smiled and ate the rest of the cookie. She patted his cheek and he smiled.

“So you liked it?” He asked, eyes glistening.

“It was definitely better than the food I have to ate on my journey.” She replied, sitting down on the stool. “Next time you’ll prepare food for me, won’t you, Flower?”

“O-of course, Mother!” Varian agreed gingerly and put the tray on the table. He took one of the cookies and the woman picked up another one, nibbling on it absent-mindedly.

“But that’s for other time.” Mother waved her had nonchalantly and smiled. “Now, be a dear and bring me your hairbrush. It’s been a while since I brushed your hair.”

The boy quickly ran up to his room and brought up the blue hairbrush. He gave it to the woman, running up and bringing a stool for himself to sit. A familiar song found its way to his lips and he felt at peace, singing gently. Magic flew through his hair and Mother gently brushed it, untangling any knots.

After the ritual, they both set out to make dinner. Varian was fully capable to do it on his own, but he loved it when he worked together with Mother. It made those rare moments more memorable.

They ate, chatting about Mother’s travel. Varian listened carefully, his mind picturing the places she described. He loved when Mother spoke about the outside world. It felt magical and the boy wanted nothing more but to explore it by himself.

“Oh my, I would have forgotten.” Mother said suddenly and reached out to her basket, fishing out a book and pushing it towards the boy. “I got you a little something, while I was away.”

“Tales of Flynnigan Rider, Tome 5!” He exclaimed happily, eyes wandering over the cover. It looked old and used, but it didn’t matter. It was a gift from Mother! “Thank you, Mother!”

“Well, what kind of mother I would be, if I came back empty-handed?” The woman laughed and observed the boy looking through the book. “Speaking of, your birthday are coming, are they not? Which ones are they this time? Nine? Ten?”

“Fourteen, Mother.” Varian supplied and Mother laughed.

“Silly me. I still think you’re my sweet little boy.” She ruffled his hair playfully. “You grow up so fast.”

“Um… so, about by birthday…” Varian set the book down and knotted his fingers under the table. He took a deep breath. This was it. He was going to ask her. “Could you take me to see the floating lights?”

“Do you mean stars, Flower?” Mother cocked her head in confusion. “Why, they are perfectly visible from here.”

“No, not the stars. They’re… Let me show you.” Before the woman could react, he darted back to his room. He picked up his notebook from the bedside table and ran back, looking through it. “Here, see? They’re not stars!” He opened the correct page and pushed the notebook towards Mother. “Stars are white and they are not that big. These-these floating lights have different colours.” He pointed to the drawing, showing colourful dots. Pink, yellow, green, blue… “I… I don’t know what they are, but they appear only once a year, exactly at my birthday. Can we, please, go see them? I… I want to know what they are. Just for one night, several hours.”

“Flower…” Mother sighed and pushed the notebook away. “How many times should I tell you? You can’t leave this tower. It’s not safe out there.”

“B-but, if I go with you-” Varian tried to argue but Mother shushed him quickly.

“You stay in that tower for your own protection, Flower. The world outside is awful and cruel. I only go out, because I need to.” She took his face in her hands and continued. “There are ruffians and criminals. Men with pointy teeth and sharp nails. They would take you away, hurt you and use you for your magic hair.”

“I…I don’t think it’s that bad-” The boy cut in, but Mother put her finger on his lips, successfully shutting him.

“Trust me, Flower. I would know.” She said. “Ruffians, thugs, poison ivy, quicksand, cannibals, snakes... I’ve seen it all. Not once I barely escaped with my life.” She added dramatically.

Varian’s breath hitched. Mother barely escaped with her life? Mother? Did that mean…?

“And you, Varian.” Mother looked him up and down and tutted. “They would eat you alive. You are so young, so naive. All it would take is one blink of an eye for me to lose you. And you know it would break my heart, if anything were to happen to you.”

“I… I’m sorry, Mother.” Varian downed his head in shame. Mother took care of him for so long, kept him safe from the awful world outside. And he wanted it all go to waste just to see some floating lights. He was an awful son.

“Varian?” Mother spoke and he looked up at her, tears in his eyes. Was she mad? Disappointed?

She opened her arms in a silent invitation and he barrelled into her, crying. She shushed him, gently stroking his hair.

“Promise me, you will never leave this tower.” She said, voice tainted with sadness. He nodded against her chest, tears falling from his eyes.

“I promise, Mother.” He whispered into her dress.

“Good. I love you, Flower.” Mother said. Varian hugged her even tighter.

“I love you more.” He replied.

“I love you most.” She finished, planting a kiss on the top of his head.

------

So... she didn’t agree. But that’s fine, right? He can stay in the tower forever... right?...

#tts #varian #gothel #the sundrop alchemist #floating lights #angst (a little bit)#baby needs comfort

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ao3porcelainstorm · 3 years

Text

poison ivy & stinging nettles 25

On Ao3

Masterlist

Pairing: Sherlock/OFC

Rated: M

Warnings: eventual violence, torture, swears, adult themes (no explicit smut)

Chapter 24 - Chapter 26

Chapter 25- Sunflower

“I understand that this is a good idea for the long term,” Amelia said. “I really do, but I think we should have started with something simpler.”

She, Sherlock, and John were in her bedroom, with John carefully wrapping the potentially broken ankle she had managed during that day’s “training”.

“You need to be careful with this ankle,” John scolded. “You’re too old to keep injuring the same spots over and over.”

“That was months ago,” Amelia protested, but paled when John pressed a finger into a particularly tender spot. “I’m not old. I’m young compared to the two of you grumpy old men.”

“I don’t understand what was so difficult about the instructions,” Sherlock complained, lounging in Amelia’s chair by her fireplace. “I warned you to jump.”

“And then you pushed me over!” she insisted. “That’s not a jump, that’s a dodge or move out of the way.”

“I was trying to surprise you,” he explained. “A real threat isn’t going to announce what you need to do.”

“It’s been a month, I can barely throw a punch,” she replied.

“The bruise on his shoulder suggests otherwise,” John supplied quietly, tying off the wrap. “You should be all set. I’ll see if we can get you in for X-rays in the morning.”

“It didn’t take me this long to learn self-defense,” Sherlock continued, tossing a bundle of hair scrunchies in the air above him.

“I’m incredibly out of shape, and have noodles for limps,” Amelia added. “I’m not even attempting to attack this at the level you would have. I’d die.”

“I think you’re doing great,” John assured her. “You’re getting faster and your reflexes are getting better.”

“John’s my new head coach,” she high fived the doctor.

“John’s in charge of firearms,” Sherlock turned to face them. “We’ve been over this.”

“There was that nice Judo guy who wanted to show me something,” Amelia reminded him. “You just get mad when anyone else touches me.”

“That’s not true, I’m fine when you hug John,” he stated.

“Hug,” Amelia repeated with a laugh toward John. “He’s fine when we hug.”

“You’re too casually affectionate in general, but as long as it’s directed toward our friends, that’s tolerable,” he clarified.

“I’ll keep that in mind for my afternoon shag with Judo guy,” she retorted.

He looked to John for support, but the doctor did what he did best when the pair disagreed- held his hands up and backed out of the room.

“Not my fight,” he replied. “I’m going to shower.”

“I’m not casually affectionate,” she paused. “Just to you guys. And Mrs. Hudson. And Molly of course.”

“You touch everyone and everything at all times,” he raised a brow. “You’re very open with your feelings.”

“Oh,” she replied, voice dropping. “That’s not ideal, is it?”

If she was going to play detective with him and John, it probably was not in anyone’s best interest to show what she was truly thinking at a crime scene.

“Do you need to conceal your true thoughts on anything?” he asked.

She considered the question. If she was being frank, the answer was no. Most of her time was spent around those she cared for and loved. If she was happy, she was happy. If not, she certainly was not the type to try and hide it for very long.

“Am I a bad liar?” she asked.

“You have a tell,” he replied, leaning forward with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“What is it?”

“You laugh,” he answered. “When you’re nervous, when you’re being sarcastic, and when you’re lying. Anytime you’re being disingenuous, you laugh.”

“That’s not too bad,” she considered, biting down a chuckle that threatened to rise. He just raised a brow and she sighed in defeat. “I’ll work on it.”

“Just like you’d work on beating me in Cluedo?” he challenged, standing up from the chair.

“Rematch, tonight,” she stood to meet his eye line, poking him defiantly in the chest. “We’ll have John play too, even the playing field a bit.”

“You’re going to lose.”

“You’re-,” she stopped, thinking about her reaction, pulling back the scowl that emerged. “Nope. I’m going to win.”

“I know you’ve been looking up strategies online, and they aren’t going to help you,” he looked down. “Because I’m the best there is, and you especially can’t fool me.”

“Maybe,” she hummed back. “But I can distract you.”

She moved to kiss him by stepping on her tiptoes, but having forgotten her ankle, ended up crashing forward when it collapsed under the shift in weight.

In a mass of momentum, they crashed to the ground, Sherlock buffing the fall with an arm, and dropping his head back when she landed on top of him.

“That could have been so much cuter if we’d landed on the bed,” she noted, peeking down at him. “Are you okay?”

“How did you make it to adulthood in one piece?” he asked. “There was no way you should have made it past infancy with how clumsy you are.”

“Recently I’ve had handsome gentlemen catching me, it’s been pretty nice,” she smirked. “I mean, look at this view.”

They were face to face, Amelia grinning over him, while Sherlock’s eyes traced every inch of her face.

He pulled her toward him, devouring her in a passionate kiss. Hands threaded through her hair; her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Amelia shifted for a better angle when her foot kicked a pile of canvas tucked next to her bed.

The artwork tumbled free, and she peeked up to see what had caused the commotion.

“Oh,” she turned and grabbed one of the pieces, a small painting of one of Mrs. Hudson’s teacups. “I forgot about that one.”

Ignoring Sherlock’s drawn-out sigh, she busied herself with replacing the knocked over pictures, pausing when she came to the last one.

“I never showed you the painting I meant to send to Brooklyn,” she realized, staring forward at the painting in question.

He sat up, realizing the moment was lost and tilted his head in her direction.

“You never sent it?”

“Never had the chance,” she replied, turning, and holding the large piece up.

The silhouette was familiar, a lithe man standing in a room covered top to bottom in books. He held a violin, his back to the viewer. In the foreground was a pile of sheet music with a single bookmark stuffed between piles of pages. On the bookmark was a delicately drawn sunflower.

It was painted with darker shades than most of Amelia’s other works, less floral and more warmth. Sherlock could picture the living room of Baker Street perfectly. The sound of fire crackling, the smell of leather bookbinding.

This was what she saw. It was comfortable, a little mysterious, but familiar. An old friend.

An adored lover.

“Does my hair really look like that from behind?” he asked, earning a snort from his companion. “I like it. The bookmark is a sentimental touch. What did you call it?”

“Faith,” she replied. “It’s one of the many meanings behind a sunflower. I thought it was appropriate.”

“How so?”

She looked at him, genuinely bewildered by the question.

How did he not know?

“You inspire people,” she answered, looking back at the details in the portrait. “You give people hope in a way. People believe in you.”

It was difficult to explain out loud- hence the portrait (she was an artist after all)- but Sherlock didn’t seem convinced at her explanation.

“Do you believe in me?” he asked simply.

“I painted you a portrait,” she laughed lightly. “I still live here after everything, and we spent the last five minutes making out on my floor. I’ll always believe in you.”

He seemed content with that answer, his hands snaking around her waist and encouraging her to replace the picture and pick up where they’d left off.

~~~

“This was a bad idea,” John voiced for the third or fourth time since the game started.

Amelia was wrapped up in Sherlock’s robe, fingers drumming on her chin while she studied the Cluedo board. She lifted her notecard, lowered it, and continued gazing at the board.

“She’s under this delusion that she can beat me,” Sherlock scoffed, twirling a pen between his fingers, leg jittering under the table.

“I will, this is it,” she announced, moving her piece. “Colonel Mustard, with the wrench, in the observatory.”

She motioned for John to open the packet; brows knitted in focus.

Even Sherlock leaned forward, watching their friend with interest.

“That’s right,” John held up the three cards. “You got it.”

Amelia threw down her cards and grinned, jumping up victoriously.

“I actually did it!” she looked to Sherlock, hands squeezed at her sides in excitement. “I beat you at Cluedo.”

“Impossible,” he grabbed her cards and notes, reading through everything. “How did you know I had the garden?”

“You showed John,” she replied excitedly. “I saw him scribble it down.”

“That’s cheating!” Sherlock snapped back.

“That’s deduction, my dear Mr. Holmes,” she smirked. “I thought all was fair in a game of Cluedo? Those were your rules.”

“I didn’t expect them to turn on me,” he huffed.

“I’m texting Lestrade,” John announced, phone pulled out. “He’s not going to believe this.”

“Don’t you-,” he whirled around at Amelia who was rapidly typing something into her own phone. “Who are you texting?”

“Mycroft,” she answered quickly. “He owes me twenty pounds.”

“You bet against this game?” he scowled, glaring back down at the board. “You must have cheated. John? Did you tell her anything?”

“You would have noticed if we’d been conspiring against you,” the doctor replied. “You lost. Accept defeat.”

“Unacceptable,” Sherlock paced out of the room toward the kitchen, returning with his finger pointed toward Amelia accusatorially. “You distracted me.”

“What?” she blinked up at him innocently.

“In your room, you threw yourself at me and threw my focus off,” he replied tersely. “You knew you could get the upper hand.”

“That sounds like a personal problem to me,” she smirked. “Besides, I’ve never distracted you before.”

“Are you naked under that bathrobe?” he demanded, stepping toward her.

“Jesus Sherlock,” John stood up. “She’s wearing pajamas, you can see them.”

“What did you do?” Sherlock pulled open the robe to reveal an old band shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants. “You tricked me.”

“I outsmarted you,” she laughed. “Without being totally naked. I’m the superior detective. Dr. Watson, mark the date that I ascended to alpha detective within Baker Street.”

Sherlock’s face fell into a mix of horror, confusion, awe, and shock.

Without another word, he grabbed Amelia by the waist and threw her over his shoulder, trussing back to his room.

“John, find something to do that isn’t here,” he called over his shoulder before slamming his door shut.

Sherlock’s scramble to get Amelia undressed was met with her own quick hands tugging his belt free.

Frenzied hands up and down, pulling at buttons, running through one another’s hair, with hungry kisses, with Sherlock hiding her backward toward the bed.

“Are you sure?” he asked when she was down to a bra and underwear. She was ethereal. Her chest was flushed, her cheeks a mix of blush and freckles, curly hair astray-

“I’ve been waiting much longer than you have,” she purred, pulling him forward and meeting him with her lips.

John was partially out the door when he heard the ruckus upstairs. Mrs. Hudson peeked her head out of her flat, looking up and exchanging a knowing look with the doctor.

“About time,” she sighed, a bit of relief. She cringed when something crashed above them. “I hope that wasn’t the china.”

“I’d put those headphones Sherlock got you for Christmas on,” he advised dryly. “I think we’re in for a long night.”

Chapter 26

#sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock bbc #fanfiction #fanfic #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock fanfic #sherlock/ofc #sherlock/oc #sherlock/reader #reader #writing #sherlock writing #john watson #OFC #OC #watson

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