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thelastspeecher · 3 years

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Pirate AU - Shore Leave

A coupla times this week I randomly got inspired to write some Pirate AU stuff. And I got some good news yesterday, so I decided I’d post the stuff I wrote. Like a gift to myself, that kind of thing.

So here’s some more Pirate AU content, but most importantly, some Pirate AU Stangie content. Plus a bit of bonus Shermie content. Enjoy.

(For context, this takes place a few years after this ficlet.)

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“Thanks for watching the kids, Maria,” Stan whispered. “You can head home.” Maria got up from the kitchen table. On her way out, she tsked at Angie.

“You know better, mija. Be smarter and faster next time.”

“Of course, Maria,” Angie said. Maria shook her head disapprovingly one last time, then left.

“Sit down, you gotta get off your feet,” Stan instructed his wife. Angie obediently took a seat at the table. Stan sat next to her. “Angie.”

“It’s a good thing I’m pregnant,” Angie said jovially. Stan scowled.

“Then we must be defining ‘good thing’ differently,” he growled.

“If I wasn’t pregnant, I wouldn’t have been able to delay ‘em hangin’ me,” Angie said. “Without that, you ‘n the crew wouldn’t have rescued me from the clink in time.”

“You got caught pirating!” Stan snapped. “You were about to be hanged! Yeah, you were able to delay it this time, but next time?” Silently, he thanked whatever deity he believed in that day that they had come back from the rescue mission late enough the kids were asleep.

Don’t want ‘em to see their parents fight. And judging by Angie’s already frustrated expression, this was definitely going to be a fight.

“There won’t be a next time.”

“You’re damn right.” Stan met Angie’s eyes squarely. “‘Cause you’re giving up piracy.” Angie’s eyes flashed with anger.

“You have no right-”

“To what? Want my wife safe? Want my kids to grow up with both parents? Angie, I can’t- I can’t live like this anymore! I can’t watch you go to sea, knowing that you might not come back. I love you too damn much to let you keep throwing your life away like this!”

“This is the first time I’ve been caught,” Angie said, but her voice lacked some of the bite it had earlier.

“Now that it’s happened once, it’s gonna happen again.” Stan reached out and took ahold of one of Angie’s hands. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, feeling the thick scars from years of piracy. “There are some injuries that, when you recover from ‘em, you’re never the same. You’ve had a lot of those. It’s already started catching up with you. You know that.” Angie looked away.

“I…”

“Give me a single reason you can’t leave piracy.”

“You know my reasons.”

“They were reasons you had when you first started. But they don’t matter anymore, Ang! Your name – your real one – got cleared. You’ve got a family and a home. You’ve got money. Give me a reason that still applies.”

“I…” Angie looked down at the floor. After a moment, she sighed. Without saying a word, she got up and walked away.

Shit. Did I overstep? Stan started to get up. No. He sat back down. Give her a bit of space. You know how she is. When a few minutes had passed, Stan couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He followed her outside. In the light of the full moon, he could see her talking to Dan. He walked over.

“Thanks fer savin’ me,” Angie said quietly. “Not just- not just tonight. All those other times. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t fer you.” Wordlessly, Dan enveloped her in a hug. “Take good care of her, Dan,” Angie said, her voice cracking with emotion. They broke apart. Dan ruffled Angie’s hair, nodded at Stan, and began to walk down the road that led to town.

“What was that about?” Stan asked. Angie’s shoulders shook. “Ang, is everything all right?”

“No! I’m- I’m pregnant, I’m sure it’s twins again, I was almost hanged tonight, and I just gave up everything I spent most of my life buildin’ up!” Angie snapped.

“You…”

“Dan’s goin’ to run Sweet Viola fer a few months before easin’ her out of the game.” Angie’s head drooped. “This pirate king is hangin’ up her crown.”

“Angie.” Stan tilted Angie’s chin to look into her eyes. Eyes the color of the sea. “Thank you.”

“You never thank folks,” Angie mumbled.

“That’s how you know I’m serious.” Stan grinned. “And you’re not giving up all the shit you spent so long on. You’ve still got me. You’ve still got the kids. All five of ‘em.”

“No, darlin’, it’s definitely goin’ to be six,” Angie insisted.

“What makes you so sure?”

“A woman knows.”

“If you say so.”

“That’s no way to talk to yer captain.”

“You just gave up your ship,” Stan pointed out. Angie looked away. Stan wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m just kidding, babe. You’ll always be my captain.”

“Damn straight,” Angie muttered. “By the way, I might be givin’ up piracy, but I ain’t givin’ up thievery.”

“Good,” Stan said. “I’m gonna need your help to keep the shop stocked.” Angie managed a soft laugh. The two stayed outside. Their home was atop a seaside cliff, from which they could see the dark ocean reflecting the pale moonlight.

Angie buried her head in Stan’s shirt, crying, as her ship disappeared over the horizon for the last time.

-----

They walked past a shop with a number of nice dresses in the storefront window. Promptly, Danny and Daisy made a beeline for it, cooing over the fancy fabrics. The whole family was in town to run a few errands. Stan glanced at his wife. Angie wasn’t happy she had been dragged out of the house, but Emmett refused to go anywhere without her.

“Mama, look!” Danny said excitedly, pointing at the dresses. Angie forced a smile.

“Yes, dear, they’re very nice.”

“You should get it! It would look so pretty on you!”

“She’s got a point,” Stan whispered to her. Angie sighed heavily.

“It would be nice to have some more clothin’ options. I noticed the other day that I don’t have many dresses.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve got plenty!”

“Yes, fer this!” Angie gestured to her enormous baby bump. With how big she was getting, Stan had finally begun to agree Angie was likely right, that they were having twins for a third time. “But after I give birth? Most of the clothes what ‘ll fit me were fer workin’ on the ship.”

“So, something that a nice housewife wouldn’t wear,” Stan said. Angie nodded. “Well, want me to treat you to somethin’ nice?” Angie rolled her eyes.

“I don’t think even you can steal a whole dress in public without bein’ caught, darlin’.”

“I wasn’t gonna steal it. I was gonna buy it.”

“Buy it?” Angie put her hands on her hips. “Who are you and what have ya done with my husband?” she asked, aghast. Stan laughed. “It’s prob’ly expensive. I’m fine.”

“After the kids are born and you’re back to normal, I’ll get you somethin’ fancy, okay?” Stan said. He held out his arm. Angie took it with a smile.

“All right. If ya insist.” She leaned in to talk quietly. “Darlin’, in all seriousness, yer okay with buyin’ somethin’ rather than stealin’ it?”

“Ang, I haven’t done much crime ashore. Only small stuff I know I can get away with. I didn’t wanna risk getting caught and leaving the kids all alone while you were at sea.”

“…Right.” Angie sighed again. “I keep forgettin’ how little I’ve been on land with you ‘n the kids.”

“You’ve got plenty of time to catch up on everything.”

“Yes. Since I’m now permanently on shore leave.” Angie raised her voice. “Girls, leave the dresses alone, we have to go to the market.” Reluctantly, Danny and Daisy abandoned the dresses and ran back to their parents.

“Papa, I wanna piggy-back ride,” Daisy whined. From his perch atop Stan’s shoulders, Emory blew a raspberry at his older sister.

“Emory’s got littler legs than you do,” Stan said. Daisy crossed her arms.

“Emmett’s walking just fine!” she argued, gesturing at Emmett, who was holding Stan’s hand.

“What have we talked about?” Angie asked patiently. Daisy pouted.

“Being a good big sister,” she muttered. Angie ruffled her hair.

“Don’t worry, honey, when we get to the market, you can do some more pocket practice,” she cooed. Daisy’s eyes lit up. She nodded. The family continued walking down the street, Danny and Daisy running ahead eagerly. Stan grinned cheekily at Angie.

“You’re getting lazy, having the kids pickpocket for you,” he teased.

“I’m too pregnant to be quiet and get away fast,” Angie said.

“Fair.”

“I’m glad that even if yer not willin’ to do much crime lately, yer not extendin’ that to the kidlets.”

“It’s a lot easier to brush off a six-year-old taking something than a grown adult.”

“Mm, true enough.” Angie smoothed the fabric of her dress. “Once I’m shipshape, I’ll get to restockin’ the shop, darlin’.” She smirked. “I’m damn fine at sleight of hand. Not to mention, no one would accuse the sweet housewife of larceny.” Stan chuckled.

“I knew I married the right woman.”

“Mama, what’s larson?” Emmett asked abruptly. Angie smiled at her son.

“A grown-up word ya don’t need to worry ‘bout.”

“Like ‘damn’,” Emory said helpfully. Stan and Angie grimaced.

“…We should probably work on cleaning up our sailors’ mouths if we wanna avoid attracting attention,” Stan said quietly. Angie nodded.

“Agreed.”

-----

Shermie walked up to the unassuming house. A large sign outside read “McGucket’s Marine Antiques”.

This is the right place, then. Good. Being a merchant, Shermie had to spend a lot of time away from his family, so he made sure to bring back souvenirs from each trip. This trip, to a small town called Gravity Falls, had been woefully bereft of potential souvenirs. As such, he’d been relieved when a local told him about the store on the edge of town full of fun and sparkly things.

“Ma’am,” he said politely to the woman sitting on the porch, supervising two toddler boys playing on the front lawn. On either side of her was a basket holding a young infant. The woman looked up at him curiously. Recognition flickered in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, one of the infants began to fuss. The woman quickly began to soothe the infant. Shermie ducked into the house. The room he was in looked like a proper shop. Shelves lined the walls, groaning underneath the merchandise. Some larger items, like a rusted anchor, were set on the floor, with price tags that seemed far too high to Shermie. Two young girls in the corner giggled to each other as they picked through a box on the floor full of even more small items.

“Welcome to McGucket’s Marine Antiques!” a voice boomed. A familiar voice. Shermie’s eyes widened. He turned. Behind the store counter was a face he hadn’t seen in over a decade.

“Stanley?” Shermie croaked. His little brother gaped.

“…Shermie?”

“Stan, what are you- how- you-” Shermie ran his hands through his hair. “The people in town said the man who ran this store was named Stan McGucket, not Stan Pines.” Stan grimaced.

“Yeah. Uh…” Stan looked over at the girls in the corner. “Danny, Daisy.” The girls looked up. One had the distinctive Pines nose. “If anyone comes in, go get your ma and have her handle the customer.” The girls nodded. “All right, Shermie, come with me, I’ll answer all your questions.”

“You better,” Shermie mumbled. Stan pushed open a door located behind the counter. Shermie followed him into the house proper. The living room they walked into was cozy and nautical-themed, full of décor that looked like it came from a ship. Stan gestured to a couch. Shermie sat down. Stan sat in a chair across from him.

“The people in town said this place was run by Stan McGucket because it is.”

“But how-”

“I’ll tell you everything, but first, what do you know?” Stan asked. Shermie raised an eyebrow.

That’s…interesting. Stan’s careful dodge reminded Shermie a lot of how his brother would construct lies as a teen. He would ask what someone knew, then build his lie around that information. Asking first allowed him to avoid contradicting something known to the person he was lying to. Hopefully he’s not lying to me now. I’ve fallen out of practice seeing through Stan’s lies.

“You were captured by pirates over a decade ago,” Shermie said, deciding to take Stan at face value. “At some point after you were captured by pirates, Stanford disappeared at sea.” Stan nodded.

“Yeah, that’s right.” He sighed. “Ford actually caught up to the ship I was captive on. I got free in the fight, but Ford…he…” Stan looked down at the ground. “Well, I didn’t see his body, so I’m holding onto the hope that he’s still alive.”

“Stan…”

“The people in town know me as Stan McGucket ‘cause that’s my name now,” Stan continued, talking over Shermie. “While I was captured by pirates, one of them decided he liked my name and took it. I didn’t like the idea of sharing a name with a pirate, so I took my wife’s last name.”

That smells like a lie. Shermie’s brain caught up with what Stan was saying. Wait, what?

“You’re married?” Shermie asked.

“Yeah. You saw Angie – my wife – outside. At least, I hope you did. She said she was watching four of the kids out there.”

“I…” Shermie kneaded his forehead. “Okay. Now I need to know how you met your wife.”

“After I escaped from the pirates, I decided to stay at sea to look for Ford. I didn’t- I didn’t wanna come home without him, y’know?”

“Yes, I do,” Shermie said quietly.

“I managed to get a spot on board a merchant ship where her brother, Lute, was first mate. He was looking for her after she got captured by pirates. Eventually, we found the ship she was on and rescued her.”

“You…you rescued your future wife from pirates?” Shermie asked, dumbfounded. Stan nodded. “Why am I not surprised?” Stan smirked slightly.

“We both stayed at sea as merchants,” he continued, “and fell in love pretty quick. After we had the first set of twins, I decided to move ashore with ‘em. Angie, she, uh-” He laughed quietly. “She decided to keep sailing. Even after we had another set of twins.”

“Really?”

“What can I say? I married a free spirit.”

Makes sense Stan would find someone like himself.

“When she found out she was pregnant for the third time, though, we had a long talk, and decided that she’d move ashore with me permanently. I like having her close by.”

“I’d imagine having her help with the kids would be nice as well.”

“Eh. We’ve got some former crewmates in town that love watching the kids,” Stan said with a shrug. “That’s why we settled here. With that help, keeping track of the kids wasn’t what I was concerned about. I missed my wife.” There was something more, though. A haunted look lingered in Stan’s eyes.

“You were worried about her safety,” Shermie said. Stan looked away. “I can’t blame you. It’s dangerous to be a merchant.”

He’s already lost his twin to the sea. Of course he doesn’t want to lose his wife, too.

“Yeah, well.” Stan cleared his throat. “I’ve got Angie on shore with me now. We’ve got six great kids. Life’s pretty good.”

“Yes. I can see that. Mom will be relieved to hear you’re fine.”

“She’s gonna show up within a week of you telling her,” Stan mumbled.

“Can you blame her?” Shermie asked. Stan shook his head.

“Not after having my own kids, no.” The door opened. The woman from outside, who Shermie now knew to be Stan’s wife, Angie, poked her head into the room.

“Darlin’, should I be plannin’ on an extra person fer dinner?” she asked. Shermie tried to hide his surprise at Angie’s strong accent.

“No need,” Shermie said, getting up from the couch. “I need to be going back to my ship before long. But before I head out, I should do what I came here to do.”

“What’d you come here for?” Stan asked, getting up as well.

“To buy something for my kids.” Shermie raised an eyebrow. “Might I be able to get a family discount from my little brother that disappeared for ten years?” Stan sighed heavily. “If I get a good deal, I might forget to mention you to Mom for a few days…” A twinkle appeared in Stan’s eye.

“Make it a week, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Deal.”

#it's been a while since I posted Pirate Content so I'm happy to be posting a bit more #idk why this AU is what I got randomly inspired to write for but here we are #with more Pirate Content and Stangie being a cute criminal couple #Pirate AU #Stangie #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Shermie Pines #Stangie Family #ficlet #my writing #speecher speaks

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haru-sen · 3 years

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SW/IAL Mandalorians

Thanks to the usual suspects for their interference. Less dark than Imperial Forces, still with the usual amount of sex and violence. Feel free to let me know which Star Wars AU is making you happier. I’m playing with both, IAL, and finally actually working on the original piece. Same disclaimer, set during vanilla SWTOR, Knight Strike is not the PC Jedi Knight, but is adjacent to PC storylines. I still haven’t played SWTOR in awhile, so some details may be wrong. Don’t come at me. I’m too tired.

“Woman, if you’d come dressed correctly, I might have been more inclined to hear your suit,” the Orgo the Hutt, stretched out on its massive throne. The massive slug-beast crammed a handful of screeching fish into its maw. “But I have no interest in Jedi or Republic politics.” He yawned loudly. “Maybe ask Palaya to find you a nice dancing outfit.” He gave a gurgling laugh and gestured to the blue Twi’lek woman lounging beside him. “Maybe then I will be more interested in meeting with you.”

You gritted your teeth, feeling the numerous blasters aimed at your back. There was nothing wrong with your gray and white robes. You were here on official business. “Wise Orgo, I apologize if my attire has given offense,” you said, trying for your best serene and unbothered expression, the one you used when dealing with the Council. “But this is not politics, this is business.”

“And it is bad business to be entertaining pretty Jedi,” he laughed. “Pretty Jedi should be entertaining Orgo!”

He was dead. Everyone here was dead. They just didn’t know it yet. Orgo the Hutt? Grease paste. The handsy Gammorean bodyguards? Pieces, that’s all that was going to be left. The swaggering mercs, snickering in the shadows, thinking their numbers would keep them safe? You could make a pyramid of heads when you were done with them. You were tired of this nonsense. You had tried diplomacy, now you could go straight to violence and-

Palaya stared blankly ahead, adorned in a blue and gold mesh dancer’s outfit, a gold chain around her neck.

You inhaled slowly, remembering that there were slaves, bystanders, innocent civilians on site. You could not kill everyone, rather you damn well better not kill everyone, and the fact that your mind was going there was a very bad sign. In fact, if Master Amari found out, she’d lock you in the temple meditation chambers for the next decade.

“I would be amenable to a private business meeting, Great Orgo,” you said, sounding absolutely calm.

A shifty-eyed human man leaned over and whispered something to Orgo.

“A warrior Jedi? With such a high bounty? Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Orgo laughed, rolls of skin shaking. “I would be happy to accommodate such a gift! What good business!”

You shifted instinctively, preparing to start cutting down guards.

And then the floor dropped out from under you.

Orgo laughed as you fell into the pit below.

Snarling, you somersaulted downward, torches lighting the sandy area, another seven meters down. It stunk of rotten meat and feces, but worse was the festering corruption that hung over the sand like a miasma. It was nauseating, and your vision went fuzzy for a moment. You landed in the soft sand, in a holding cell. The wall behind you was solid stone, but the ceiling was open. The sides were four meters high, thick, metal grates with very narrow openings. You drew your lightsabers, preparing to cut through the walls.

“Filte says you are worth more alive,” Orgo called down. “So don’t try to escape, little Jedi. Or Teteta will have to eat you, and he is very hungry.”

The trapdoors slammed shut, leaving the room barely lit by torchlight, and you caught sight of the thing lumbering around the other part of the pit. Howling, it lunged at your cage, clawed hands too thick to reach through the bars.

It was a spiky bipedal creature, thickly-built and easily two and a half meters tall and meter and half wide, with massive horns and spines coming out of its head and back. It charged forward, trying to ram down the door. That was all bad enough, but the thing oozed dark side energy. And then you knew exactly what it was.

Orgo the Hutt had a pet terentatek. They were mutant Dark-side monsters with a taste for force-sensitive flesh and a strong resistance to your powers. Allegedly created by Exar Kun, they hunted Jedi, and were very good at it. Theron hadn’t said a damn thing about terentateks!

Backing up, you pulled your comm unit out of a robe pocket. “Hey, it’s me. Things went bad.”

“Query: Oh? Are all the other meatbags dead? Did something similar happen to the little meatbags? Are they even littler meatbags now?” HK’s hologram popped up.

“...No,” you sighed. “I have to deal with a terentatek now. And don’t you start on me, HK. I was supposed to do this peacefully. Remember? The Jedi Council, potential impending suspension, kidnapped children. We went over this already.”

“Evaluation: It is as you say, Master,” HK-53 said snidely. “But the Jedi Council isn’t trapped there in the cage facing a terentatek.”

“...I’ll be sure to put that in my report,” you said, squinting at the droid over the connection. “If you can try to discretely clear the secondary route, I’m going to get out of here.”

“Encouragement: Don’t forget, those spines and tusk are venomous, Master,” HK-53 said a little too cheerfully. “But I’m sure you’ll do fine. If you don’t, I will definitely kill everyone in the building to avenge you.”

“HK-” You shook your head. “At least don’t kill the civilians.”

“Evasion: I can’t hear you, Master! I am too busy discretely killing everyone in the way!” And with that, the comm link cut.

...Sithspit.

Give the fact you had just entertained similar thoughts, you could not really judge him. You were supposed to know better, the bodyguard/assassin droid was just programmed that way. Maybe you had been spending too much time with your droid, but you didn’t have any other backup for these situations. Not any more.

Looking around, you studied the room. There was another empty cell adjacent to you, and on the next wall, there were two more cells, and there was a heavily-armored man in each of them. The terentatek had stopped slamming into your cell, and was now pacing furiously in front of it.

“Hey,” you shouted.

They turned, and you recognized those T-shaped visors on their Beskar helmets. One had bright blue armor, the other black with a white skull face painted on it. Mandalorians. Hmm.

You flicked your sabers on, the silver beams casting eerie shadows.

“What do you want, witch?” Skull asked, his voice strangely smooth behind a vocoder.

“Do you want out?” You asked.

“Might be smarter to stay in here, away from that thing,” Blue said, with an easy laugh.

Caution? From a Mandalorian? What were the odds? Today was really not your day.

“It’s more interested in me than you,” you said. “Do you want out or not?”

“What’s your plan, witch?” Skull asked.

“I get you out of your cells, you get that main door open, and hopefully that hall narrows to a chokepoint so it can’t follow us out.”

The two men muttered quietly between themselves. You gathered your energy, aiming for the wall that divided your cell from the one next door. It was not high enough to get a normal person to the trapdoor overhead - you could jump, but you probably could not force it open from this side. Better to take the exit across the pit. You leapt, propelled upward by the force, and you reached out, gloved hands catching the top of the wall. You pulled yourself up. It was only a handspan thick, so you balanced carefully, watching the terentatek throw its head back and roar.

“Have you come to a decision yet, gentlemen?” You shouted.

“Fine,” Skull said. “We can group up, for now.”

“Do you know where the keys are?” You asked.

“Do we look like we know how a Hutt arranges his torture dungeon?” Skull snapped.

“...Maybe?” You shrugged. Mandalorian mercs weren’t uncommon. They would have fit right in with the other riffraff in Orgo’s throne room.

“Most of our weaponry is on the other side of the gate,” Blue told you, gesturing to the exit.

“Don’t tell her that,” Skull growled.

Well, you had not actually expected them to be much help against the terentatek.

“Stand back,” you told them, waiting for them to move away from the front of the cages. And then you threw a saber, the bright light arcing downward through the shadows. Cutting precisely through the grate took focus. The saber hovered in front of Blue’s cage, cutting a meter high circle in the metal. Already, sweating, you hissed as the terentatek -likely feeling your power draw- charged your cage, rattling the grate.

The lightsaber dropped, the circle not quite formed. Teeth clenched, you reached out, hand shaking a little as you lifted the saber from the ground and finished the hole. Panting, you had to drop it again, making sure to shut it down so no one got hurt. Blue then pulled the cut-out portion into his cage, grabbed your saber, put the grate back, and gave you a thumbs up.

You squinted at him, wondering if the Mandalorian thought he could collect your weapon that easily.

He deployed the saber, nearly jumping as the beam shot out. Chuckling, he began to slowly cut through the wall between his cell and Skull’s.

“Be careful with that,” you said, watching his hands shake. “Where can I get one of these?” Blue asked, as he cut an unsteady shape.

“If she dies, you can keep that one,” Skull said, sounding almost happy.

Charming. You rolled your eyes.

Blue stepped back, and Skull kicked the metal, knocking it out.

“Let’s move out!” Blue said, waving at you.

“Just stay out of my way.” Skull went first, heading to the wall, looking for a way to open the door.

The terentatek was still banging against your cage, not noticing the men emerging from their cells. You flicked sand at it, trying to hold its attention. It shrieked at you angrily. You scanned the darkness, hoping to find a pile of poo to fling...

“I got this,” Blue muttered, as he started using your saber to start cutting through the door.

At the sound of a human voice coming from a different space, the terentatek whirled, roaring.

“Din ferrik, Ja’ak!” Skull hissed.

“Shab!” Blue muttered as he dragged the blade through the metal, trying to go faster, but not entirely able to control the lightsaber.

Skull started kicking the portion of the door, metal clanging.

The terentatek lumbered toward them.

They were going to die. Yes, they were dumb, and it was their own damn faults, but in recruiting them, you had signed these idiots’ death warrants. Mandalorians or not, you should not have involved them.

You took a deep breath, running through your options. You were not equipped to take down a terentatek today. You could try Ataru form – but you would be drained afterward. Niman would have been better to keep it distracted, but that idiot had your other lightsaber and the Sixth Form required two lightsabers. Ataru, then. The Fourth Form was meant to be used against a single opponent: the stance took a lot of energy, but you needed to move fast. You opened your mental channels, drawing more power from the force. Strength began to pour into your limbs.

You threw back your head and roared – to get its attention- before diving off the cage walls at the monster. You drove your saber into the terentatek’s spiny back, before kicking off the shoulder plate, narrowly avoiding a spiked elbow. You flipped backward, senses ablaze.

Blue was almost through the door. Skull was standing there staring up at you.

The terentatek swung, with claws as thick as your forearm, and narrowly missed your head. You landed in a crouch and rolled sideways as it stomped toward you, Mandalorians forgotten.

This was not a duel. This was a battle of attrition. You had to whittle it down, and you had to be fast. Swinging your single saber, you sliced across its left arm, chitinous spikes dropping into the sand. Blood and ichor spurted from the wound. Shrieking, it charged you again, that thick darkness assailing your senses. You dodged, still managing to keep away from its claws. But the terentatek was still between you and the door.

“Get to cover, witch!”

Bright bolts of blaster fire tore through the room. Sithspit, Ataru was not a defensive form. You could try to deflect bolts, but your focus was on the abomination. Still, you went low, hoping to avoid friendly fire.

The terentatek screamed as it lunged for you. Blasterfire was not enough to stop it. Even as you rolled through the sand, those talons sliced through your robes and into your back, your blood already burning.

“Fall in!” Blue shouted.

You scrambled forward, teeth clenched as Blue grabbed your wrists and dragged you through the broken door and into a stone hallway, Skull on your heels, still firing through the hole in the grate at the beast. It was too small for the creature to get through

“That door is compromised. It won’t hold it for long,” Skull said.

“Back exit,” you muttered. “Should be unguarded-”

“His usually isn’t,” Blue laughed, as he handed you your other saber.

“Shut up,” Skull said, and you could hear the scowl through the helmet.

You just shook your head, trying to focus on the venom already pulsing through your veins. You needed to cleanse your blood, but you weren’t much of a healer. Still, you could push out the poison. Panting, you leaned against the wall, unclean blood pouring out of your back.

“She’s hit,” Skull said. “Hurry up. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Time to heal up,” Blue told you, hitting you with a kolto shot. “You are going to have some impressive scars.”

You shuddered, still feeling some of the poison in your system. But you could move. “Escape tunnel should be in the southwestern corner.”

The Mandalorians nodded, and the three of you started running down the hall.

A Gammorean stepped in your way, but Skull raised his two large scatterguns, and suddenly there wasn’t anything in your way. There was a large messy puddle to run through, and you kept your mouth closed, a bloody mist still hovering in the air.

There was more screaming behind you, as the terentatek smashed through the pit doors. You stumbled, but Blue grabbed your arm, pulling you along.

There were more screams in front of you, and Skull raised his scatterguns.

“Query: Maaaaaaaster, are you dead? If you’re dead, I get to kill everyone else!” HK-53 called out, his voice echoing through the halls. More shots fired, screams abruptly cutting off.

“No, I’m alive,” you shouted back. “And don’t shoot the men with me.”

HK-53 rounded the corner, blaster rifle raised. “Excitement: Oh Master, I am relieved to see you in one piece,” he said so stoically, it couldn’t be anything, but sarcasm.

“Why does a Jedi have a Hunter-Killer droid?” Skull asked, his voice low and suspicious.

“Intimidation: Because before my last master expired violently, he willed me to her, and we have been very active ever since,” HK-53 said. “Now, if I can’t shoot them, can I use-?”

“HK, leave them alone. I need to find those kids and get out of here,” you sighed.

“Explanation: Oh, bad news, Master,” HK-53 said with exaggerated sympathy. “They’re already gone. Orgo shipped them out last night. This whole trip was a waste of time!” He cackled.

Scowling, you grabbed HK-53’s arm. “Where?”

“Master, if you insist on clinging to me, I can’t fight properly,” HK-53 said. “They’re off Taris and on their way to Nar Shaddaa. I sliced the records for you – we can look at them later, when we’re not killing our way through a Hutt’s basement.”

You followed HK-53 through a cleared path, seeing over a dozen smoking bodies along the way. The Mandalorians kept you between them and your murder-happy droid.

The sunlight was a relief as you stumbled out the door. It didn’t smell like death and rot out here, and you were far enough away from the corrupt influence of the beast that you could breathe comfortably again. Of course, you would have to come back here and finish it off. You could not let a terentatek live. But that was a problem for later. “Come on, this way,” Blue said, tugging your arm.

“Master, we can get to the spaceport-”

“She’s been poisoned,” Skull said. “We can try to fix her up at camp, or you can cart a dead Jedi off to Nar Shaddaa.”

HK-53 looked you over. “Smuggery: I told you they were venomous. If you die, can I kill these meatbags?”

“No HK, and I do not have the patience for this,” you growled, staggering forward. “We need to get to Nar Shaddaa-” You said, before falling over, your legs no longer responding to your orders. “Sithspit,” you muttered, twitching in the dirt.

“Stupid witch,” Skull said, bending over you.

And then everything faded away.

** “How can they just sit back and do nothing?” You snarled, pacing in front of the fountain. “No, this is worse than nothing. Not only are they doing nothing, they’re arguing over whether or not they should punish me for doing something!” You threw your arms up in frustration. “They’re the ones who sent me to Alderaan!”

“Yes, to Alderaan, not to Balmorra, nor Nar Shaddaa, and certainly not Corellia,” Master Amari said, sitting back on the bench, expression dangerously placid. With her striking blue robes, gold jewelry, and tattoos, she looked more like an elegant noblewoman than a Jedi Master. “You were just supposed to find out what happened to Master Nomen Karr, not follow in his footsteps.”

You squinted at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He always had a hard time staying away from the war,” Master Amari said. “I am not saying we cannot be involved in conflict. I agree with you, we have an obligation to use our powers responsibly. But Nomen Karr loved to fight, and he held a deep hatred for the Empire. He could not let that go, and it ruined him.”

That she didn’t just come and say the obvious thing both reassured you and infuriated you. No one wanted to talk about what happened, not even you, but seeing your Master shy around the topic made you angrier than you expected.

You had to remember to breathe. “I don’t hate the Empire,” you said. “It’s too broad a construct.”

“Semantics, Strike. You know you’re not supposed to be in contact with certain people. But still you obsessively track Lord Talon. You repeatedly undertake unsanctioned missions for SIS in exchange for data on him. You keep that abominable droid in your living quarters,” Master Amari’s voice was gentle. “That may not be hatred, but given all that has happened, it certainly is enough to make me worry about you.”

“HK can’t help the way he was programmed,” you muttered, because she wasn’t wrong. HK-53 was an absolute bastard to everyone. “And I got official approval to embed with Delta Squad.”

“...After you ignored three summons to return to Coruscant,” Master Amari said, shaking her head.

“Must have gotten lost in transmission,” you muttered. “Still not enough to warrant an entire meeting about my conduct.”

“You know that isn’t the only thing on the table,” Master Amari said sternly.

“I was cleared of any wrongdoing months ago,” you said sharply.

“Yes,” Master Amari nodded. “And I agree, what happened was not your fault in the least. I just wish you could see that and step away for a moment.”

You flinched. “I’m the one with the best chance-”

“Of getting dragged under with him,” Master Amari said. “You’re already struggling, we both know it.”

You inhaled deeply. You wanted to go back to the front. You couldn’t sit here in the temple, meditating on peace, while Lord Talon and his apprentice were out there slaughtering more people. But now that you were back on Coruscant, the Council seemed damn keen on keeping you there.

“You did a lot of good and made some important allies during your military tour, Strike. If you want to go back out in the field, it is not out of the question,” Master Amari said, adjusting the hood of her robes. “And I don’t disagree with your reasoning. I also think you are the one with the best chance to stop him. But you’re not in the right spot mentally to do it yet and I am very worried about you, as my friend.”

You groaned, because she was right. And when she was this honest, you couldn’t be mad at her. This wasn’t her mess. She was the one who taught you that it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission, but Master Amari had a finesse that you lacked. She certainly didn’t get a whole Council convened because of her “questionable conduct.”

“They’re trying to make an example out of me,” you said, with a scowl.

“Which will backfire, as long as you behave yourself,” she said sternly. “You are a decorated war hero. There’s an entire subset of delinquent padawans who want to be the next Knight Strike, and it is infuriating several of my peers. On top of that, they have to sit there calmly, pretending like they aren’t outraged. Plus the Republic military is impressed with your work and is pushing for even more joint operations,” she laughed softly. “And because of that, this has become political. I am just reminding you to be more diplomatic with the High Council. You have allies there: don’t alienate them.”

She was right. Master Lacroix had requested a meeting beforehand. He was not on the High Council, but he likely would be some day soon. And he was the one who warned you about the potential pending disciplinary charges. He was also the one who might have suggested rotating comm frequencies and upping your encryption standards during your travels, so the official High Council summons to return to Coruscant never reached you.

“You’re not alone in how you feel, and you’re absolutely right, they are indecisive, cloistered, and afraid: I don’t blame them. They’re responsible for the future of the entire Order, and all the lives in their jurisdiction. We are weak right now. We can’t afford to just throw good Knights into a meat grinder. We’ve lost enough already. We can’t afford to lose you too.” She leaned forward. “And this war has taken its toll on you, Strike. The violence, the death, the guilt, our losses: you’re balanced on a knife’s edge, and we both know it.” She looked at you, solemn as you had ever seen her. “If you fall, I will be the one they send after you.”

You blinked. Because of course Master Amari noticed. You wondered about Master Lacroix. The consular was a subtle man, shrewd and political as any SIS operative. He had to see the signs too.

“...Master Amari,” you said, giving a formal bow. “If I fall, it will not be because of anything you or the Council did. It will not be something you can prevent, unless you plan on locking me up for the rest of my life. If I fall, it will be because there is something out there worth saving, that is more valuable than myself and the Jedi Council’s ideals.”

Master Amari nodded. “I know you see it that way, but if you fall, will you still be able to protect that thing that matters so much to you? You saw how it went. I doubt that was the expectation at the time.”

You thought back to that terrible day on Corellia. “I don’t know. I wasn’t able to last time.” You stared up at the sky. “I suppose that’s why I keep HK-53 so close now.”

You stood in the Council Chambers, shoulders square, in your gray and white robes, your twin sabers on your belt. You bowed your head respectfully to the Council, gaze flicking to Master Lacroix who stood by the door. He sat there, hood up, face inscrutable, as always.

“Knight Strike, it is good to have you back on Coruscant,” the Barsen’thor told you, with a smile and a wink. She had been one of your fellow padawans on Tython, and had fought on Corellia. She had spoken in your defense at the first inquiry. She had dealt with similar issues in the past, though of a more exotic and conspiratorial nature than your own.

You allowed yourself a smile in return. You knew whose side she was on.

“It is always nice to see you,” you told her.

“This is a High Council meeting, not a class reunion,” Master Nobil said coolly.

“It is good to see you too, Master Nobil,” you said, politely.

You didn’t actually hear the Barsen’thor laugh, but you could feel it.

“I’m afraid we might have to skip the opening formalities today, Knight Strike. But rest assured, we are all pleased to see you standing here in Coruscant, in person,” Grandmaster Satele Shan said. She stood there in her plain brown robes, dark hair pulled back in her customary braids, those pale blue eyes piercing your mask of civility. Shan knew exactly what you were about, and she would only tolerate it to a point.

You bowed.

“Today, we have convened to discuss the appropriate outcome for your nontraditional approach to acquiring intelligence on Master Nomen Karr. While we appreciate you finding out the actual details, you certainly took a...circuitous route.”

“Are we not going to talk about-” Nobil began.

“No,” Grandmaster Shan said firmly. “That issue was settled months ago. Knight Strike bears no fault there, and there is no need to rehash that.”

Nobil did not quite sulk, but he crossed his arms and stared very hard at you, like you were a padawan who was lifting extra desserts.

“Now, what do you have to say about your...unorthodox method of intelligence gathering, Knight Strike?” Grandmaster Shan asked.

“The Force works in mysterious ways,” you said, with a bow.

Grandmaster Shan sighed. “Don’t be coy.”

“My apologies, Grandmaster,” you said. “I do not wish to deflect from my own responsibility in the matter, but I do wish to state that I did not simply go rogue. I-”

“-Had tacit support from a number of Masters, some of them in this room? I am aware,” Grandmaster Shan said archly, giving numerous people hard looks. “And that issue has been discussed as well. And I agree, it would not be fair to punish you for taking poor counsel from your superiors.” She looked around the room, expression severe.

“What would you have me say then, Grandmaster?” You asked, because of course she already knew almost everything. Most of it had already come out in the first inquest. “Why am I here?”

“Originally, we had considered issuing consequences for your unsanctioned foray. However, in light of your honorable service and your resilience in the face of darkness, I don’t believe any further disciplinary measures will be necessary. So no, that is not why I have asked you here today.” She leaned forward. “How familiar are you with the Tarisian branch of the Exchange?”

You blinked, not expecting that question. “Orgo the Hutt is in charge of that sector. He has alarmingly friendly relations with the Empire,” you said, raising your head. “He especially likes exporting Sithspawn, rakghouls, and other abominations for the private menageries of Sith Lords. His personal habits are...not fit to mention in polite company.”

“What about the Balmorran branch of the Exchange? Where do their loyalties lie?”

“That’s more complicated. Breaking the blockade is a lucrative business, and they’re happy to play both sides,” you said with a shrug. “They import much-needed food, medicine, and other basic commodities in exchange for a cut of the weaponry produced on the planet. Then they sell it to the highest bidder. Balmorra is a competitive market: no one who wants to stay on top can pick a side. Profits are the driving force and their black market goods are integral to the population’s survival.”

Grandmaster Shan nodded.

“What about the slave markets of Nar Shaddaa?”

“...I have been,” you said tightly.

“Could you go again?”

“If it is necessary, I could go in quietly. I could also go in...less quietly.” You smiled slightly at the thought of letting HK-53 loose on the slavers.

Grandmaster Shan gave you a disapproving look, like she had picked up your exact thoughts. Which, given her powers, she probably had. “...And what would you say of the criminal known as Rogun Matt’rik?” She asked you.

“For a man called “the Butcher,” his sandwiches aren’t very good.” You shrugged.

There was a low murmur.

“You have...shared meals with Rogun the Butcher?” Grandmaster Shan’s expression was too calm. You knew, from experience, that meant you were getting to her. Which was an accomplishment, though of dubious value. You did not need to get slapped back down to Tython. You needed to stop taunting the Grandmaster.

“Nothing fancy, obviously. We have worked together on occasion. He is a crime lord and not really someone you should eat with, unless you’re stuck in the trenches and can’t really get out because there are Imperial forces strafing you, and you’re the one reinforcing the shield that’s keeping everyone alive,” you said, after a moment. “But he’s one of the few who is loyal to the Republic, and puts that loyalty a little bit ahead of his profits. If the SIS-” you paused, wondering if Satele knew how often you worked with her son. “-doesn’t know something, Rogun can often find it out.”

“You admit to associating with criminals of that notoriety?” Master Nobil asked, outraged.

“He says, I’m a good influence on him,” you said. “For the record, I have talked him out of killing several people.” That was true. If they were useful, he turned them over to the SIS. It was a moral grey zone, you understood. But Rogun knew better than to do certain things in front of you. And if he had a Sith problem, well, you could help him out with that. It was mutually beneficial for you, him, and the Republic.

“Well then, this has been very enlightening, Knight Strike.” Grandmaster Shan touched her forehead, like maybe she was getting a headache. “I have to agree with Master Nobil, you are walking a dangerous line.” There was concern in her tone. “But I am afraid we have no choice, you are the best candidate for this mission, and it is an urgent matter.”

You straightened up. “What?”

“That isn’t to say that we can condone your unorthodox behaviors, Knight Strike. I think you know that we have been very close to taking disciplinary action,” Grandmaster Shan said sternly. “But as you said, the Force works in mysterious ways.” She leaned forward. “As you are undoubtedly aware, the Sith Academy on Korriban is always taking in more force-sensitive individuals, as they kill them at an alarming rate.”

You nodded.

“There have been a string of child abductions in Republic space– Exchange thugs killing entire families to abduct the younglings before we can get to them. We’re not exactly sure how they’re finding them first, but we’ve lost over a dozen juvenile candidates before they are ever properly assessed or invited to Tython. Some of them have been spotted in the markets on Nar Shaddaa, in the company of Orgo the Hutt’s men. We need this to stop.”

You stood there for a moment. Orgo was middleman. If Orgo wasn’t doing the trade, someone else would step up. Whoever was picking the younglings was force-sensitive or had access to the candidate lists that the Council kept. Given the fact, the children were being taken before any official assessment was done, it was likely that you were dealing with a Sith with an eye for talent. The mission parameters were clear: Find the Sith, destroy the relevant Exchange infrastructure in the process, and retrieve the children.

“I understand,” you said with a bow.

Once you had the details, you sat down in Master Lacroix’s office, making several calls. You would be heading for Taris tomorrow.

“I realize you’re frustrated,” Lacroix said, sitting down at his desk, lowering his hood. He was a slender middle-aged human, with a ridiculous fondness for his mustache. “But it was unwise to antagonize her like that.”

“I know,” you said, tilting your chair back. “But I’ve been rotting here for over a year-”

“You haven’t been locked in the temple. You’ve been going down to the lower levels and picking fights,” he said with a frown.

“Gotta keep my skills sharp,” you said with a shrug. “There are too many gangs. Law enforcement can’t keep up and sometimes they’re just as bad.”

Lacroix sighed heavily. “That isn’t the point, Strike. You and I both know that.”

“If I’m such a danger, why did you nominate me to take this mission?”

Lacroix chuckled, because he knew that you would figure it out. “Because you have the skills and the contacts, and a deeper interest in the perpetrators,” he said, pouring himself a drink. “But also, I have been thinking on your personal problems, and I may have a solution.”

“Which one? How I have a slew of moralistic busybodies probing and questioning my every action?”

Lacroix rolled his eyes. “Don’t be silly. They aren’t aware of half the things you get up to. Do you honestly think you would be getting away with this slap on the wrist if they did know?”

He had you there. You waved your hand, for him to continue.

“I think you know, Lord Talon is likely involved,” he said. “Though perhaps you should wait till you’re off-world to give any evidence of that connection. They won’t send you if they suspect his presence.”

You nodded. “I wasn’t enough to stop him last time.” You stared at the floor for a moment, feeling sick. “But I’ve been training harder. I’m better than I was a year ago. I don’t know if it’s enough, but it will have to be.”

“I know you’ve improved, but I don’t think killing Talon should be your priority,” Lacroix said. “I think we both know that.”

“...Obviously. But I don’t know if there’s any way for me to get through to-”

“There might not be, and you need to go in there knowing that you can try, and there may be a miracle, but it’s been a year. If things were going to change, they would have already. He hasn’t contacted you. You don’t bear any more responsibility in this, other than to stop Talon.”

“It’s not that easy and you know it,” you growled.

“It’s not, but that’s the truth.” Master Lacroix stared off to the side for a moment. “You and I have both seen people fall. The change is often so drastic and immediate, it is understandably terrifying. People who were compassionate, funny, and logical suddenly become vicious, cruel, and homicidal. It is hard to see a fall as anything but a catalyst for madness.”

You closed your eyes. “I know it’s not something we can magically reverse.”

“But it is something we might be able to guard against. I have a hypothesis,” he said, eyeing you shrewdly.

“And I’m your test subject?”

“You are the one who might benefit most from this knowledge,” he said. “The cause of this massive reversal is likely because certain Jedi have spent so long being a conduit for the force, for the lighter half, that they are overwhelmed by the sudden imbalance. It is like...wine rushing into an empty glass.” He set one in front of you to demonstrate. “It splashes and forcefully displaces the air. Whereas, if you already have some liquid within, the result is not so volatile. I wonder if dealings with the darker aspects could play out similarly. And since you have some experience managing these situations, perhaps you would not fall as hard.”

“This is heresy,” you said, as he handed your cup. “Tell me more.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it? You have heard of Gray Jedi?”

“Aren’t they just Jedi who don’t like how restrictive the High Council is?” You asked. “They get married, they go to war, they wear gray…”

“Maybe “Dark Jedi” is a more accurate term,” Lacroix said, clasping his hands together. “But yes, depending on practices, they are viewed as a heretical offshoot, even a danger to the order of the Order. I have met a few in my travels, on both the Sith and Jedi sides.”

You studied his thoughtful expression as you sipped the wine. “I have also met Light-leaning Sith.”

“Then you understand how...the balance of the Force is not always so clearly delineated,” Lacroix told you. “We are taught to be vessels of light, not how to manage our own darkness. It is a mistake, in my opinion. But Gray Jedi walk that line, and more interestingly, they can tap into both light side and dark side abilities.”

“So are you trying to get me to prove your thesis?”

“I think you are a very capable knight going into some very trying and uncertain circumstances. I think you are off-balance, and that this is a dangerous time for you, for many reasons. But I also don’t think we can accomplish anything by keeping knights like you locked up in temples.” He regarded you gravely. “I wanted to remind you that your choices are not binary. That you can always forge a different path, no matter what the Order has told you. If you fall from grace, you don’t have to land in darkness.”

“And yet, you still want me to go out there, knowing the Council would disapprove if they had more details and knowing that I’m in rough shape,” you laughed. “You’re a real bastard, Master Lacroix.”

“You’ve always known this.” He raised his cup, smiling sardonically at you. “And yet it’s my counsel you sought out.”

“I’m known for my questionable decision-making and unorthodox behavior. What’s your excuse?”

#SWTOR #In Alio Loco AU #In Alio Loco #overwatch fanfiction #reader insert #Crackfic Crossover

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Soul Bonded (Two)(Spideypool)

PART ONE HERE

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

************

“Oh hey, I know those guys.” Clint peeked over Pepper’s shoulder when he saw the video playing on her tablet. “How’d you get that video footage? Not even the Daily Planet manages that good of a look at them.”

“You know, I’ve learned not to ask where or how JARVIS comes up with surveillance videos.” Pepper took her eyes off the screen only long enough to kiss the other Omega’s cheek and to lay a gentle hand at the non existent bump of Clint’s stomach. “How are you and my next favorite niece and nephew doing today?”

“I dunno why everyone thinks I’m having twins.” Clint complained mildly. “We all see how big Steve is with baby James. If a super soldier can barely handle just one kiddo, what makes you think I can handle two?”

“Cos you already handle one set of twins so well!” the sweet Omega laughed at Clint’s disgruntled expression, and lifted her fluffy pink wings to brush against his darker ones. “Tony says the young mutant with webs is named Peter Parker and the bigger one is Deadpool. He wants me to try and get a hold of them and bring them by the compound.”

“Peter’s younger than Wanda and Pietro, and Deadpool’s real name is Wade, but trust me, he’s not the type to share his Omega.” Clint pointed out, and then immediately after, “Oh but with our Alpha starting to step aside with the Iron Man thing, he wants two more mutants on the team and around the family to keep us safe. That makes more sense than the other thing.”

“Exactly.” Pepper rewound the footage to the spot where the admittedly beautiful Omega showed off sheer jaw dropping strength as he shoved the Alpha off him. “They seem rough, together. I’ve never seen a pair wrestle like that before. Isn’t the Alpha worried about hurting his mate?”

“Wade’s mutation keeps him halfway to feral all the time, but Peter’s got some spider thing going on, so he channels predator half the time anyway. They’re fine. It’s like violent flirting, but best I can tell, neither one ever gets hurt.”

Clint pulled a chair up next to Pepper and snuggled in under her wings, soaking in every bit of the love she so readily gave. Tony might be the family Alpha, but Pepper was the family’s matriarch, kept them all together and fed and clothed and made sure Stark Industries stayed successful so Tony could afford to give their always growing family everything.

The pretty Omega exuded pure comfort right along with unwavering resolve and underlying steel that made her a powerhouse in both the business world and in front of the press. Simply put, Pepper was perfect and even with her layers of suppressants, she scented like home and like love and all good things so Clint curled in closer and purred low in contentment.

“Sweet Omega.” Pepper dropped a kiss on Clint’s head and ran light fingers through his feathers. “Have you started craving anything? Getting over tired yet?”

“Not too bad.” Clint promptly yawned and she laughed at him. “I’m only like three or four weeks out, you know? Tony figured it out right away so we are still ages away from me even starting to feel pregnant.”

“Hmmm.” she kept playing with the feathers closest to his shoulders and Clint sighed and relaxed into the familiar touch. “You called this Alpha Wade. You know him personally?”

“We have lunch together like once a month.” Clint mumbled. He was honestly lulled halfway to sleep right there on Pepper’s shoulder but he startled when she jumped and cursed. “Sheesh! What?!”

“You have lunch with him?” Pepper’s pink wings ruffed up in concern. “Clint! If our Alpha knew you were out there with such a volatile mutant, he would lose his mind! Deadpool is dangerous!”

“I think you’re forgetting that I can take care of myself just as well as anyone else in this compound.” The Omega said firmly, almost irritably. “Do you really think I’d hang out with someone I was scared of? Wade’s got a rough past, but he’s okay now.”

“Clint, that’s not what I’m--”

“Pep.” Clint pulled away entirely now, dark brown wings lifting above his shoulders as his irritation grew. “We live in the same building as the Hulk and I regularly share a bed with the former Winter Soldier and the stabbiest, scariest ballerina in the world. How is Wade any different than them?”

“Don’t be angry with me darling.” She tried. “It’s just--”

“Cos he’s a little closer to feral?” Clint interrupted. “Because his bad days are a hell of a lot worse than ours? Cos his wings aren’t pretty and perfect? Since when does anyone have to be pretty and perfect to fit into this family? You’re about the only one in this place with no blood on her hands, Pep. Don’t turn your back on Wade because the blood on his hands is a littler newer than what’s still staining--”

“Clint.” Pepper cupped the Omega’s chin and forced him to look at her. “Clint, I wasn’t going to say any of that. I was just going to say that if our Alpha found out you’d been meeting with someone so dangerous, he’d put an immediate stop to it until he could do some research and make sure Wade’s worst days are behind him. Tony never tells you no about anything, but he would say no to this until he knew you and the babies weren’t in danger.”

“...oh.”

“I love how quickly you stand up for everyone.” Pepper coaxed Clint back into her arms, put the tablet down and turned so she was facing him better. “You did it with Bucky when Natasha wasn’t sure about him, you stepped right in with Thor and Loki to welcome them to the family, and I’m not surprised you’re doing the same for Wade. But honestly, it’s weird enough that you have friends outside our family and it’s even weirder that none of us know about him.”

“And this isn’t about who Wade used to be, or what he’s done and good god, you know it’s not about his looks.” she continued. “It’s about making sure our loved ones are safe before bringing anyone home. Steve didn’t bring Bucky home until he was sure the Winter Soldier was gone. Thor came with Coulson’s personal recommendation and Thor waited to bring Loki along until he knew they were settled and had worked through some of their anger.”

“And now?” the Omega glanced pointedly at Clint’s stomach, then motioned upstairs where Bucky and Loki were napping with Baby Maria and where Thor and Tony were currently putting the last touches on Baby James’s nursery. “Now it’s not just a houseful of super powered or otherwise capable and scary people we’re thinking about. Now there are babies to think about too. Tony would want to meet Wade before he let the Alpha meet anyone else only because our family has grown to fourteen and soon--”

She patted at his tummy again. “Sixteen. Our Alpha will soon have sixteen people to look after. Finding out that you have been hanging out with one of the most astonishing and breathtakingly dangerous Alphas...well we all know what happened with Director Fury when Tony thought he was trying to recruit Bucky, right? The last thing we need is our Alpha going toe to toe with someone like Wade because his initial reaction to his mate spending time with Deadpool would be to go and rip Wade’s wings right off.”

“I guess I never thought to say anything.” Clint frowned, wings drooping, and Pepper immediately crooned at him comfortingly. “We used to run into each other when I worked at Shield, and I’ve told him to bring Pete up for dinner a few times, he’s just never accepted the invite. He’s a good guy, Pep. I promise. I wouldn’t bring anyone into our home who wasn’t.”

“I know you wouldn’t.” She reassured him. “But how about I break the news to Tony that you know Wade personally, hm? I’ll promise I’ll phrase it better than ‘your pregnant Omega regularly has lunch dates with someone who carries two katanas, three different guns and has the unnerving ability to regenerate everything’.”

“Fine.” Clint finally smiled again, leaned in and bumped their noses gently. “I’ll let you tell Tony about Wade.”

Clint cuddled up for another few minutes then wandered off to see if Sam would take him for ice cream-- the Beta was helpless against babies and expecting Omegas and Clint fully intended to take supreme advantage of it for the next eight months-- and Pepper went back to taking notes about the footage of Wade and his mate, Peter.

“JARVIS?” she called and the AI’s system clicked just once to show he was listening, a feature Tony had installed when he realized Bucky had a hard time with J just speaking out unexpectedly. “Let’s get some of the material ordered that Tony used to create Bruce’s room. Not the safe room below the laboratory, but his actual living quarters. Weighted blankets, the daylight lamps instead of the usual lighting, the higher security on the doors, all that sort of thing.”

“The Alpha Deadpool will need similar accommodations due to PTSD?”

“I’m not sure.” she admitted. “But it’s probably a safe bet, and even if Wade doesn’t need those things, I’d rather have it all on hand than need them and have to go get them. Turn on the systems in one of the adjoining suites like Wanda and Pietro have, one of the rooms can be for his mate. Order materials to construct some perches and higher up places for the Omega. Apparently he’s got a rather spidery inclination.”

“Ms. Potts, a rather spidery inclination doesn’t necessarily mean the Omega wants to sleep in the corners.”

“No, I suppose not.” the disapproval from JARVIS was nearly tangible and Pepper laughed softly, “But it couldn’t hurt, right? What if he webs up in the corner and naps?”

“Honestly, ma’am.”

“Order additional high protein foods as well. We’re already getting to the point of needing to raise our own food just to keep up with the soldiers, but the addition of two more metahumans will strain our pantry to about breaking.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Pepper finally gave up rewatching the same videos over and over and went to find their Alpha, trying to figure out how to tell an increasingly protective Tony that his newly pregnant mate had been spending time with a mercenary.

She’d have to make sure he was holding Baby Maria just so he wouldn’t shout.

Sigh.

Their life was absolutely crazy.

************

School buses weren't supposed to blow tires and careen wildly around the freeway at sixty plus miles an hour and then plummet off the overpass into the traffic below, but that’s exactly what happened.

It could have been an error of judgment when the tires had last been filled, it could have been a less than motivated operator who rushed the vehicle inspection before the kids loaded on for their field trip, it could have been something unexpectedly sharp on the road that hit just right and sent the relatively calm day into chaos.

Whatever it was, it was terrifying and Peter didn’t so much hear the screams as he felt them clang around his head when his spidey sense went haywire. The Omega dropped to his knees with a quiet cry, hands over his ears and maroon wings wrapped around his body as he tried to limit the sensory input and figure out what exactly was happening.

“Pete?” Wade dropped to the ground right by the Omega, dark wings up and around them to fend off any prying eyes. “Hey baby boy, what’s up? What’s going on?”

“Something is really really wrong.” Peter gasped, scrambled for his mask and jammed it on. “Something’s wrong, Alpha. I gotta figure out what it is.”

He pushed away from Wade and bolted for an alley, shouted, “Keep an eye out for me!” then threw himself up the wall. Wade couldn’t do much more than watch helplessly as the Omega webbed his way towards the roof so he could try and see what was happening

“Oh shit.” Wade saw the bus right when Peter did, and he took off running for the nearby crowd, pushing people out of the way and shouting for the others to move.

“Get out!” He shouted, snapping his wings out to try and rush pedestrians out of the area, growling in frustration when people just glanced at him and glanced away. “Damn it! Move your ass there’s a goddamn bus heading this way! Fucking move!”

Peter as Spider-man jumped down into the crowd and the pedestrians panicked when he started simply webbing slower moving people and yanking them out of the way. Wade ran around trying to help, shoving Alphas and Betas off into the side alley’s, trying hard to gently but quickly force the Omegas off the street, both of them screaming for someone to call the police, to call an ambulance, to call for help---

-- the noise the bus made as it crashed through the barrier was unbelievable, the echo of screams inside horrifying and the Alpha had only a split second to register a flash of maroon wings --

--and everything came to a stop.

The world came to a stop and all Wade could see was his mate his mate halfway to crushed beneath the front end grill the bus, legs braced and arms straining to hold the weight and not for the first time the Alpha remembered that Peter wasn’t just pretty, he wasn’t just funny, the Omega was damn near supernatural.

And then Peter screamed, cried out because everything hurt and he might have been outrageously strong but he was still human and it hurt and Wade went scrambling to figure out how to take some of the weight off his Omega. He wrapped his wings around Peter’s slim frame and braced his arms on the underside of the bus too so Peter had at least a little bit of support. When the Alpha let his strength surge, he could take on close to half a ton which didn’t even touch the amount his Omega could hold, but at least it was something.

“I’ve got you, baby boy.” he hissed out between clenched teeth. “Let’s get this thing down, huh?”

“Slow.” Peter gasped, sweating through his mask, through his clothes, his honeysuckle scent burned bitter with fear and pain. “Slow, Alpha. I gotta-- I gotta move towards the back so it doesn’t crush when it lands. You got this part?”

“Not even a little bit.” Wade stated calmly. “But we both know I’ll regenerate from being squashed flat, and no one on the bus will, so you do what you gotta do.”

Christ it was excruciating trying to hold onto even just part of the bus as Peter inched his way further down the underside of it, holding it as steady as he could and having Wade scoot along behind him until the front wheels touched. It was easier after that without all twelve tons on their arms, but Wade’s arms were still shaking by the time they made it to the back wheels, his back aching and wings trembling with the effort of holding what his Omega made look so easy.

“Out.” Wade ordered when it was just him underneath the rear wheels. “Get out from beneath this thing and hold it from the other side.”

“I’m fine, Alpha.” Peter shook his head. “This could drop on you the second I let go and I’m not doing that.”

“I’ve come back from being splatted by far worse.” The Alpha said firmly. “One day I’ll tell you about my first run in with fuckin’ Colossus, but first you need to get out from under here. I’ll hold it for a few seconds while you get situated and if you have to vacuum me up and let me reassemble in the apartment, that’s just how it’s going to be.”

“God, you’re gross, some days I don’t know why I like you..” Peter’s feathers shook uncertainly as he tried to time the maneuver. “Okay, I’m only going to let go for like three seconds alright?”

“Get going before the kids start screaming again.” Wade retorted, so the Omega dashed away and for three endless seconds he really thought his back was going to shatter, he really thought his legs would give out or his arms would fall right the hell off. It was the longest three seconds of the Alpha’s life and just when he thought he couldn’t take it half a breath more, Peter was holding the rear bumper again, shouting for Wade to roll out from beneath it so he could put it down.

Freedom.

The kids inside the bus started cheering the second the wheels were down, but Wade wasn’t listening and even if he had been listening, he didn’t care.

All he cared about was the way Peter was looking at him right now. The Omega had set the bus down then ran for the shadows of the alley where he could tear his mask off and stare at Wade, chest heaving and feathers flutters and fingers pressing at the side of his neck where a bonding bite should go. When Wade met his eyes, the Omega tilted his head and parted his lips and dropped his wings submissive for just a split second in a clear invitation.

And a split second was all it took.

Wade’s entire body snapped to attention, and when his Omega turned and fled, the Alpha took off after him, tucked his charcoal wings back and tore through the shadows after his mate as Peter laughed and trilled and egged him on.

They headed east towards Peter’s apartment to get to familiar streets, and once they made it past the park, up to the roofs they went. It wasn’t really fair of Peter to use webs to get so high so fast but Wade would never complain about being able to watch his Omega fly, the beautiful body soaring through the sky, the wings stretched out and catching the sun as he swung between the buildings.

It wasn’t fair that Peter had webs, but Wade wasn’t complaining, and the Alpha just doubled his pace tearing up the stairs to get to the rooftop, bursting through doors and vaulting railings. His heart was pounding, scarred skin itching and veins crawling with feral rising red behind his eyes as Wade raced up and up and up.

His mate had almost died. His mate had almost died. My mate almost died---

“Omega!” Wade burst through the rooftop door of Peter’s building, dented the steel as he rammed into it and skidded to a stop. “Peter!”

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Peter jumped from the utility shed and landed with a light thump, tore off his mask and shucked his jacket and spread maroon wings open in an excited welcome for the Alpha. “What took you so long? Where have you been? I want you.”

Wade met him halfway across the roof, charcoal colored feathers hitching high and aggressive, eyes snapping scarlet as he grabbed for his mate and yanked him in for a brutal kiss.

“Where have you been?” Peter asked again, gasping through the kiss and scrabbling at Wade’s clothes, shoving his hands beneath the Alpha’s shirt to get to skin and moaning low, anxious when he could finally feel Wade’s heartbeat against his palm. “God, that’s good. I missed you. I know it's only been a minute but I missed you. That was incredible, we are incredible, you are incredible, I want to eat you alive.”

Peter was talking a mile a minute, walking backwards towards the wall and dragging Wade with him, crushing kiss after greedy kiss to Wade’s mouth and hissing in excitement when the Alpha’s teeth stung at his bottom lip. “Yes my Alpha, yes more of that. More of you.”

“Settle.” Wade rumbled, a damn useless word when he was no where close to settling, the liquor heady scent of turned on Omega like a shot of adrenaline to his heart, his soul, his cock. “Settle.”

“Make me.” Peter’s hands went sticky at Wade’s side and he grabbed too tight, too greedy as they kissed again and again. “Make me settle. Bite me.”

“Peter.”

“Bite me.” The Omega half purred, half growled, turning his head to bare his neck even as he used that ridiculous strength to shove Wade against the wall. “Bite me, you know you want to. You want me just as bad as I want you and we just did something incredible together and I’m half outta my mind needing you.”

“Settle.” Wade ordered again, dark feathers waving warningly in a display of dominance and a fight for self control that made the Omega whine in pleasure. “Slow down, Omega.”

“Make me.” Peters eyes were bright, his smirk nearly devious, but his honeysuckle scent twisted longing when Wade’s hands settled at his waist. “Make me settle, Alpha.”

“I—“ Christ, sometimes Wade loathed himself. “I’m not your Alpha.”

“The fuck you aren’t.” The Omega ran his tongue over his teeth, then tipped his head to the side to show off the line of his throat, lush and inviting and practically dripping with want and need and mineyoursmineyoursmate. “Bite me, you coward.”

“Bed.” Wade said, instead of saying everything else, instead of just jerking forward and cutting into the Omega’s neck to finally bond. “Bed. Now.”

“I shouldn’t let you knot me until you bite me.” Peter whispered, but he was already backing up towards the edge of the roof, already readying himself to web backwards and then twist into his bedroom window that was only a few feet below them. “I shouldn’t let you knot me until you say I’m yours but fuck, Alpha. I’m gagging for it. Gagging for you. So empty I wanna scream. Need you so bad. What we just did was incredible and I need you so bad---”

“Bed!”

*************

It was always like this.

Always Wade wondering what he’d ever done to have such a sweet Omega, such a pretty perfect Omega curled up and purring on his chest, wholly content to lay over Wade’s heartbeat and rub his adorable nose over the myriad of scars on the Alpha’s skin. Always one hand resting low on Peter’s hips and the other buried in the ridiculously fluffy hair, breathing in Peter’s pure honeysuckle scent and letting it calm the fire in his veins.

It was always like this, always Peter straddling Wade’s waist and stuck tight on his knot, rocking that gorgeous body just lightly, just enough to keep the Alpha swollen so he could stay full as long as possible. Slim fingers tracing the rougher patches of Wade’s skin, the scars and ruined pieces, then drifting up to coast gently, almost tenderly through the feathers Wade had kept away for so long, and Peter breathed in deep and exhaled slow of his Alpha’s scent as it mellowed from brittle need to caramel thick possessiveness.

I love you. Peter thought, and he knew his scent must have changed when Wade shifted beneath him and murmured, “Pretty, perfect Omega.”

It was always like this.

Always so close to enough but just not quite.

“Clint invited us to dinner at the compound tonight.” Wade said a few minutes later when he thought his Omega was maybe drifting off to sleep. “You wanna go?”

“I feel like it’s going to do ridiculous things to your ego if I tell you I’d rather get knotted again than go have dinner with the Avengers.” Peter mumbled, and the Alpha’s wings shook with his laughter. “So I guess we better go. Clint’s been asking for months.”

“Yeah, he really has.” Wade smoothed his rough palm down Peter’s back and patted lightly at the Omega’s rear. “Should we put some clothes on?”

“Definitely not. Let’s definitely go naked to meet my personal hero Iron Man and his harem of demi-gods and super soldiers and non powered but still terrifying mates.” Peter yawned and snuggled in closer. “Definitely not putting pants on for that.”

“Brat.” Wade left a quick swat on Peter’s butt, but he couldn’t help an adoring rumble when the Omega only kissed over his heart. “...I guess we could be pants-less for a few more minutes.”

************

From the outside, the Stark compound upstate looked like exactly that-- a compound. Towering gray walls and not one but two different fences that ensured no one would risk a climb over or cut through without suffering serious electric shock and probably a dangling appendage or two. A deceptively grassy campus with a landing pad that came up from beneath the tennis courts, an underground tunnel system that led to the pools and a state of the art laboratory buried in a bunker that would withstand a nuclear blast. A security system that scanned Wade and Peter not once, not twice but three different times before they even made it through the initial foyer and to the bolted security doors that led to the living areas.

But past the foyer, past the security systems and uncomfortably prison like appearance, through the windowless hingeless doors that either slid back into the walls to welcome someone or slid shut on their bodies to crush them flat, past one more full body scan that ended with a palm imprint machine that collected fingerprints and most likely a trace DNA sample--- past all that, the Stark compound transformed into a gorgeous home full of the scent of happiness, of love and affection, and of family.

“Ho ho holy shit.” Wade breathed as they suddenly stood in an entry way that arched up at least thirty feet, beautiful windows and graceful, artistic architecture lines, and a running length of carpet so plush he sort of wanted to lay in it. “Look at this thing. Who knew Upstate Alzatraz was a posh palace inside?”

“This is crazy.” Peter picked up a picture from the mantle, wings lifting curiously when he saw Black Widow super spy Natasha Romanoff hanging off of Captain America, laughing and clearly drunk, wearing a ridiculously sequined tux for what was apparently the ball dropping party in Times Square the last New Years Eve. “This is Natasha Romanoff drunk with Captain America. This one is Air Force Colonel James Rhodes wearing the worlds ugliest Christmas sweater. Here’s Tony with the Winter Soldier and uh--”

The Omega peered a little closer at the picture, “The prettiest baby I’ve ever seen, look at her Alpha, she’s adorable.”

“That’s Maria, the prettiest girl in any room anywhere in the world, and the tiniest thing capable of bringing Iron Man, the former Winter Soldier and an actual God of Mischief to their collective knees with one gummy smile.”

Pepper Potts was ridiculously pretty as she hurried towards Wade and Peter, her pale pink wings surrounding her like a halo as she reached to shake first Wade’s hand, then Peter’s. “Honestly, it’s almost embarrassing. She rumbled in her diaper the other day and then laughed about, and I thought Loki was going to faint. You’ve never seen a Trickster God fumble to magic up a camera and take a picture so fast in your life.”

“Right.” Wade wasn’t sure if he was dumbfounded because of the unexpected information, or dumbfounded because Ms. Potts was just so elegant. “Sure that’s-- yep. Trickster god, cameras, that all makes sense.”

“It doesn’t make sense.” She corrected with a quiet laugh. “But stick around and you’ll see Lo and Bucky and Tony going absolutely ga-ga for Maria isn’t even the most unbelieving thing to happen on any given day with our family. Now come along, it’s just about time for dinner and you still have to meet everyone, come on.”

The beautiful Omega turned around on sky high heels and hurried down the hall towards the rest of the compound, and Peter and Wade trailed along behind her, eyes wide as they took in the myriad of family pictures on the wall, the intricate AI system control panels set out on a platform by a set of stairs, and as they neared what was apparently the dining room, Peter reached for Wade’s hand nervously as they drew closer to an astonishing amount of noise coming from behind the huge double doors.

“Don’t be nervous.” the Alpha sounded nervous even as he pressed at Peter’s palm. “It’s fine. Clint invited us, the apparent Queen right there seems to think we’re welcome so--”

“Any friend of Mr. Barton’s is welcome in our compound.” came a voice from the ceiling, and Wade instinctively grabbed for a gun at his waist, Peter instinctively clamped his hand down on the Alpha’s wrist so Wade wouldn’t fire at the hidden speakers, and Pepper turned around with a knowing smile and comforting trill of her tongue.

“Ah, sorry about that. JARVIS is just as much a part of our family as everyone else and if you aren’t listening for the click before he speaks, it can be quite startling.”

“Mr. Wilson I suggest you think twice about a weapon.” the AI continued, and the Alpha immediately put both hands up to show that he had reached for the non existent weapon purely out of habit. Peter had insisted on no guns and Wade never told his Omega no about anything other than heat, so he was here gunless and the AI needn’t need worry.

“The last person to pose a threat to my family died in quite horrible fashion, and in the time since my systems have been upgraded to be un-over-rideable.” JARVIS intoned, and Peter turned wide eyes towards Pepper, who only lifted one slender shoulder in a shrug. “Rest assured I will decorate these walls with you and your mate should you think to bring any danger those who reside here.”

“When Clint extended the invitation, he was very adamant that neither Mr. Wilson nor his Omega mate would bring a weapon to our home.” Pepper assured the AI. “But thank you all the same, J.”

“Christ.” Wade had to work hard to get his wings down by his shoulders again, the instinct to shove his Omega behind his back and outright challenge the machine for inadvertently threatening them hard to ignore. “I thought robot butlers were supposed to be polite, not homicidal.”

“JARVIS’s algorithm allows him to change and adapt to new scenarios that present themselves and with this family, a new scenario presents itself daily.” Pepper typed in a code and the double doors swished open. “With the recent addition of Baby Maria, the soon to be addition of Baby James and our Omega Clint so newly expecting, JARVIS is picking up on elevated stress levels from our Alpha and adjusting himself accordingly. He sprayed Thor with fire extinguisher foam the other day because the God of Thunder has one volume setting-- loud-- and Baby Maria was napping.”

“The AI sprayed the God of Thunder with foam because the baby was napping?”

“Tony has an Allowable Decibel Protocol and Thor is in constant violation. It wasn’t the first time he was sprayed and it won’t be the last.” Another one of those shrugs, and Pepper adjusted her always perfect hair and smiled, sweeping her arm out to encompass the dining area and living room of the compound. “Welcome to our home, gentleman. You’ll have to forgive our chaos, I’d say it’s unusual, but it’s really really not.”

“Uh--” Wade raised non existent eyebrows as an absolute beefcake of a blonde strode with golden wings strode by with a wing-less scientist at his side. “Sure?”

“Thor.” Pepper reached out and snagged the blond’s arm and tugged him back. “Thor, come here and meet a new friend of the family.”

“My Lady Pepper.” Thor was massive, purely Alpha from the incredible golden wing span to the lightning flashing in his eyes, but he was downright delicate as he bent and kissed Pepper’s hand. “How are you today?”

“Wonderful, darling thank you.” Pepper turned a little pink, then motioned to Peter and Wade. “These are friends of Clint’s-- the Alpha Wade Wilson and his mate, Peter Parker.”

“The one even Hel rejects, and the child with webs!” Thor nearly crushed Wade’s hand in an enthusiastic shake, his greeting for Peter quite a bit gentler but just as boisterous. “Of course! Our Omega Clint spoke highly of you! You must meet my love, Bruce.”

The huge wings flicked out and just lightly brushed against the scientist, who came forward enough to just nod at the two of them. “Mr. Wilson.” Bruce adjusted his glasses and took a closer look at Wade’s skin, then turned to Peter. “Mr. Parker. Tony showed me the video footage of your abilities. If you don’t mind, I’d love to ask you some questions over dinner.”

“Sure.” Peter was staring even as he took a step back into his Alpha and sheltered beneath Wade’s tattered wings. “You’re Bruce Banner.”

“Ah.” Bruce cleared his throat. “Yes, I am Bruce Banner. The uh--”

“I’ve read every paper you ever wrote on gamma radiation theory and particle physics.” the Omega blurted. “and when I first got my powers I actually used one of your equations to measure the absolute mass of my strength considering my relative size to that of several different spiders and the potential effects if could have on my metabolism and regeneration abilities. Your study into meta humans and mutations as a force of nature and not a mistake is incredible. I know you don’t tour and teach anymore, but now that you’ve set up virtual classes, I’ve subscribed to as many as I can afford at a time. You are incredible.”

“Indeed, my love is incredible.” Thor’s feathers flicked forward again, but this time it was towards Peter in gratitude, a hand over his heart and head bowed in respect to Wade as Peter’s Alpha so the gesture wouldn’t seem flirty. “I tell him in Asgard he would be worshipped as a deity of intellect, but he refuses to return home with me to find out!”

“It’s nice to be appreciated for more than ah--” Bruce adjusted his glasses again and sent another curious look towards Wade, his expression dimming towards empathy and sadness when he saw the ruined wings. “For more than my ability to level an entire city. Welcome to our home, Peter and Wade. I look forward to further conversation.”

“Thor, is there any word on when the Queen Mother will arrive?” Pepper queried, and the Alpha shook his head, let his wings out so they rested gently over Bruce’s shoulders. “I am trying to prepare, but to be honest I’m not sure how to prepare for the queen and goddess of Asgard and her Valkryie guards to touch down here in the compound.”

“My mother will arrive when she decides it is time to arrive.” Thor declared. “She was raised by witches, and her grasp of time eludes me. She knows the exact moment Steve will require her healing, and that is when she will arrive.”

“You’re no help.” Pepper sighed and blew them a kiss, then grabbed for Peter’s hand and pulled the pair further into the room. “Tony is absolutely beside himself with excitement to meet a Valkyrie. I’m still wondering if I’ll have to have a stable built for a Pegasus!”

“Right.” Peter sent his Alpha a disbelieving look. “A Pegasus. That’s normal.”

“Oh Bucky, my love!” Pepper waved and switched directions. “Come meet someone new.”

“Oh I think Bucky and I are fine knowing the people we know.” the Omega that spoke for the former Winter Soldier was shockingly beautiful, pale skin and jade green eyes, long black hair and a tunic cut clear to their navel. A deep voice and near sneer on ruby red lips, but oddly enough their expression was full on adoring as they stared down at the chubby baby in their arms, waving their right hand above the baby’s head to make snowflakes dance in the air. “Why would we want to meet anyone else when our entire world rises and falls with this beauty?”

“Be nice, Lo.” Former Winter Soldier and 1940′s super soldier Bucky Barnes was all soft smiles for Pepper, his left arm gleaming as he reached to pull her into a hug and accept a kiss from the other Omega. “We gotta teach Maria to be acceptin’ of others, you know that.”

“I know that I will raise her to be treated as a Queen and to accept nothing but pure adoration from the lesser, unwashed masses.” Loki sniffed, but their multicolored wings raised high in interest as they looked Peter and Wade over. “You must be Clint’s friends, then?”

“Where is the ol’ Bird Boy?” Wade wanted to know, quickly cataloguing any danger present in the two potentially volatile Omegas and just as quickly deciding that neither Loki nor Bucky were going to make any threatening moves. “He invited us up and now he’s nowhere to be seen?”

“M’sure he’s up with our Alpha gettin’ spoiled.” Bucky pushed shoulder length hair out of his eyes and tucked dangerous looking wings back out of the way before he shook Peter’s hand, and then Wade’s. “Good to know you. Clint talks about you alot.”

“All bad I’m sure.” Wade joked, and the big Omega’s eyes flickered with something almost irritated before he answered, “Nobody talks bad about anybody here.”

“He was kidding, Omega.” the newcomer to the conversation was one Beta Natasha Romanoff, tiny but unbelievably fierce, red hair and snow white wings that she brushed over Loki, over Bucky and then extended warily in welcome to Peter and Wade. “The Alpha was only kidding, weren’t you Wade?”

“Natasha.” Wade had ran into Natasha once or twice, events that usually ended with him getting his ass handed to him courtesy of the most terrifying ballerina in the world. If he hadn’t loved Peter so damn much, the Alpha was sure he’d be head over heels for the notorious Beta. Hell, maybe he was head over heels and judging by the smirk of Natasha’s perfect mouth, she was well aware. “Uh, sure I was kidding.”

“Pretty Omega.” Natasha’s smirk slid into a genuine smile as she opened her wings further for Peter, and the other Omega opened maroon feathers in a greeting as well. “Welcome to our home. The twins are excited to meet you, Pietro is crawling out of his skin ready to have another boy to talk to. Your company will give poor Wanda a break, she wants to dote on Clint all the time and Pietro is hilariously terrible about sharing any sort of attention.”

“Twins.” Peter repeated. “Right. Wanda and Pietro Maximoff--”

“--Barton Stark.” she finished. “And if you think the house is chaotic now, just wait till the Queen Mother arrives with her Valkyrie guard.”

“Yes, Natasha is very excited to meet the Valkyrie, aren’t you love?” Pepper’s suppressant muted scent lightened with teasing and happiness and Natasha play growled at her, ducking in close to kiss her full on the lips and murmur, “Never as excited as I am to kiss you, darling.”

Bucky just smiled at the display and with one last wondering look at Wade, led his Omega partner and Baby Maria away to find a place to eat.

“Pep, glad I found you.” Before Natasha had even pulled all the way away and before Wade or Peter could ask if the Trickster God and former Winter Soldier were honestly raising a baby together, United States Air Force Colonel James Rhodes came to join them.

The Alpha was a sight to behold decked out in military dress, royal blue wings held high as he bent to kiss Pepper on the mouth just as enthusiastically as Natasha had. Wade sent his Omega a curious look, and Peter just shrugged a little, but his smile stretched wide as the air soaked with happy Omega scent and protective, content Alpha as the Colonel rumbled something soft and sweet to Pepper.

“You’re leaving before dinner?” Pepper asked when they parted, and James sighed through an explanation of, “I have to run. I’m supposed to be halfway across the country right now, and I got caught up trying to help Tony string light in Baby James’s room. I’ll be home again tomorrow.”

“We spent all day yesterday stringing lights!” Natasha threw her hands and wings up and the Colonel only laughed, “Apparently they weren’t the exact right shade of not quite white, so Tony ordered more!”

“Of course he did.” Pepper sighed and patted at the Colonel’s arm. “Alright love, I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me tonight.”

“Of course.” Rhodey straightened back up, sent Wade a quickly discerning look but didn’t so much as tense up before offering Peter a smile. “Sorry to run out like this, I usually like to be home whenever someone new comes along but the world needs saving. Another time, Mr. Wilson. Mr. Parker.”

“Colonel.” Wade snapped a salute just because his days in Special Forces had left some deeply ingrained habits. “Another time.”

Pepper watched with an endlessly fond smile as Rhodey hurried out the door, and turned back to Peter and Wade with an expectant smile. “Shall we move on? This is only half the family.”

“So this is normal chaos for you?” Peter finally asked as they picked seats out at the huge table, and the other Omega just scrunched her nose and nodded. “So what’s un-normal chaos for you?”

“If you come by next week, you’ll find out when Frigga arrives.” Pepper reached for a bottle of wine and passed it to Wade to open. “She insisted on coming to be there for Steve’s labor and delivery. Baby James isn’t Thor’s child, but since that Alpha is hopelessly in love with the Captain, he’s been just as bad as Tony with fussing and preparing.”

“That was an insane sentence.” Peter said slowly, scooting his chair closer to Wade and snuggling in under the Alpha’s wings. “You know that’s an insane sentence, right? Thor the demi-god’s mom the Queen of Asgard is coming to help with Captain America’s baby even though it’s not Thor’s baby, it’s Iron Man’s baby and also, Bruce Banner the Hulk hangs out too?”

Pepper muffled an understanding smile. “Just wait till you meet everyone else. That isn’t even the weirdest sentence you can say about our family. Not even close.”

And the beautiful Omega certainly wasn’t kidding.

Dinner in the oversized dining room was the sort of crazy that usually only happened in holiday comedy films, with everyone reaching over everyone else, a truly insane amount of food and an even more insane amount of desserts.

The almost comically pregnant Steve was doted on by Thor, by Bruce, by Tony and Clint, and then Clint in turn was doted on by Natasha and the gorgeous Beta Sam, Tony and Bucky, who kept turning to make sure the mercurial Loki was settled and happy and playing with Baby Maria who was being snuck sweet treats by no less than half a dozen people, including the astonishing twins Wanda and Pietro and an elderly gentleman the twins affectionately called grandfather.

The Alpha Tony was handsome enough to make both Peter and Wade sit up and take notice, and even though the massive wings flickered curiously in Wade’s direction, Tony had nothing but smiles and welcoming words for the newcomers before he moved on to see his family.

The entire event was overseen by Pepper who quickly and efficiently dished out plates, made sure there was always a wine bottle open and plenty of water and juice for the expecting Omegas and in between doing everything, she also managed to answer each of Peter’s questions about their family, and also to assure Wade that they weren’t intruding, honestly this wasn’t even a full house for them yet, they should see it at Christmas time.

It was wild and chaotic and homey all at the same time. Almost overwhelming with all the combined scents but almost unbearably cozy too. Wade couldn’t hardly breathe through the scent of so many Alphas, but the sugar sweet contentment from the Omegas and the balanced but happy Beta’s lessened the deluge until he could finally relax his shoulders and take a few bites.

Peter was fascinated by it all-- by the expecting Omegas and their over attentive mates, by the way everyone looked to Tony for answers and approval while the family Alpha himself looked to all of them for guidance and opinions and help.

There was so much laughter, ringing around the room as they ate from each other’s plates. There was so much love, showing through every interaction and quick smile. And more than that, what brought Wade to almost uncomfortable and uncertain, wings fluttering and eyes flicking red if he wasn’t careful--

-- there was so much acceptance. So much acceptance and adoration between everyone at the table that it was almost too much.

Wade had been shunned his entire life, first by his abusive father and then by society in general when his tendencies ran towards feral. It had made him an excellent soldier but after Vanessa and after the accident that ripped his mutation out from beneath his skin and tore his wings to shreds, Wade was only an excellent monster, used to hiding in the shadows and turning away from too prying an eye.

He didn’t hide from Peter though, and when Clint finally did see them and came running over to excitedly sign through an also spoken conversation, Wade thought maybe he didn’t have to hide here either.

There was just so much acceptance and it showed through in thousand different touches between the family members. No one shied away from Bucky’s dangerous wings or silver fingers, no one looked twice when Loki magicked a knife out of mid air to cut the baby’s food into smaller bites. Thunder literally rolled around the room when Thor laughed at something Steve said, and in the same motion the huge Alpha shifted only the barest bit closer to Bruce who clearly was mostly touch averse.

Pepper was wearing suppressants, Natasha’s eyes flared wide in a moment of panic when wine spilled blood red on her hands but Sam grabbed a napkin and cleaned it up before kissing her gently, and where Clint lay snuggled up against the family Alpha, he kept one hand lightly over the blue reactor sat in Tony’s chest.

They were a family of misfits, of odd edges and unwanted souls but here gathered in the dining room there wasn’t a single person out of place.

Incredible.

“There’s room here for you and your mate.” The Alpha Tony found Wade sometime after dinner when everyone had helped carry dishes away and then the entire family made its way to the common area to relax. Wade was still brooding, still watching every interaction with narrowed eyes, his shoulders set and wings tense as if he was just waiting for the pin to fall, the other shoe to drop, someone to snap and start a fight because isn’t that what family’s did?

“If you’d like to stay, I mean.” Tony finished, and the other Alpha tore his attention back from watching the room.

“Tonight?” Wade couldn’t help shifting a step away from Tony, tucking his wings in closer out of habit and pulling his sleeves down a little further on his wrists. “Uh, thanks. I’ll think about it.”

Tony’s dark eyes flicked down to track Wade’s movement, then warmed in sympathy and before Wade could wonder why, the Alpha pulled his own shirt down a little and showed him the devastation over his sternum and around the bright glow of his arc reactor. “You know, one thing you’ll figure out pretty quick about this family is that we are all scarred. We’re all messed up one way or another but we don’t have to hide, alright? I’m sure there’s more years than I can imagine of you hiding your skin or keeping your wings away from people, but you don’t have to do that here.”

Wade’s eyes flickered red uncomfortably, and Tony shook his head. “I don’t mean to put you on the spot or anything like that, but my Omega mate Clint told me quite a bit about you and your mate and I just want you to know, you don’t have to hide here. Pepper might do that thing where she gets nosy and overly helpful and tries to find the perfect lotion to help with your skin, and Natasha gets super protective over the more vulnerable people in our family, but the last thing anyone is going to do is judge or stare or--”

Tony waved his hand idly. “--or anything like that. Thor’s mother Frigga is considered a great healer, he already suggested maybe she might help if you want. If you want. Or if your mate wants.”

“Peter isn’t--”

“I used to try and figure out how to change my feathers back to their original colors after my accident.” Tony continued on, brushing off Wade’s token denial. “But my Omega mates practically rioted over me changing anything about how I looked, so I let it go. They wanted me for who I am now, I’m sure Peter is the same way with you.”

“Uh--” Wade just kept staring, cos out of all the things he’d expected from dinner with the Avengers in their cult-compound-thing, full acceptance and quite a bit of warmth from Tony freaking Stark wasn’t really it. “---okay?”

“You still look sort of shell shocked, and I get it. We can be a lot to take in.” the other Alpha said mildly, then smiled and motioned to where Peter was talking excitedly with Wanda and Pietro, and laughed out loud when Pietro let his electric blue wings out and Peter fell off the couch in shock. “And I know Peter has his Aunt May as family, but I’m serious. You and your mate are welcome here. There’s room, plenty of room and if there isn’t room, I’ll just build on. It’s not a problem.”

“Th-- thank you.” Wade said slowly, and this time he meant it. “I dunno how I feel about your team, but I know Pete really wants to give this whole thing a try. He always complains about being a lone web slinger, so we could give it a shot. And at least if we start coming around, you guys will look out for him if anything happens to me.”

“According to the most recent rumours, nothing can happen to you.” Tony cocked a knowing eyebrow and Wade shrugged it off. “Along the same subject lines, I heard you and your mate caught a bus today.”

“Peter caught a bus.” Wade corrected. “I was just there to look pretty.”

Tony chuckled softly. “That’s how I feel half the time with my family. I feel like I’m only dangerous with my suit on, but everyone else is incredible. Even the non super powered members of my family are super heroes in their own right.”

And then softer, the Alpha’s scent warming with adoration, “It’s humbling to realize our mates could literally choose anyone in the world as theirs, and for some reason, they chose us.”

“Yeah, I hear that.” Wade ran his hand over his bare scalp self consciously. “Feels like that every day with Pete.”

“Clint says you don’t refer to Peter as your mate, but I noticed you haven’t really corrected any of us who assumed and Peter didn’t seem to mind.” Tony raised his wings curiously. “Should I spread the word that you have a preference?”

Wade nodded, then shook his head, then hunched his shoulders and cleared his throat, cleared it one more time before he managed to ask, “How uh-- how did you know it was time to make your bond official with your Omegas? I know you’ve got something with everyone in here, but your Omega mates specifically. How did you know it was time?”

“I don’t know how much you know about what happened to me in Afghanistan?” Tony paused, and Wade shook his head. “Well it wasn’t great. I went overseas one man, came back a different man and it took a long time to feel like myself again. I knew it was time to bond with my mates when I looked at them and saw home. Bonding with them was like Coming Home, and that’s how I knew it was right.”

“Coming home.” Wade repeated. “That easy?”

“It was that easy.” Tony said emphatically. “The day I looked at them and felt like I was home, I knew it was time to bond with them. Everything else after was just making it all legally official. Adopting the twins, drawing up beneficiary paperwork-- details. It was about finding our broken edges and fitting them together and calling it home and then everything was alright.”

“Huh.” Wade thought back to how broken he’d been after Vanessa, how his wings had shredded, his skin destroyed as the mutation progressed, how the darkness had crept in tinted red at the edges of his vision--

--and how meeting Peter had been like sunshine and fresh air and like home in the middle of a storm he used to pray would kill him.

“But.” Tony reached out and put a friendly hand on Wade’s shoulder, not shying away from the dark feathers, not flinching over the roughness of the other Alpha’s skin beneath his shirt. “You and Peter are clearly soul bonded, so there’s no rush. That Omega isn’t going anywhere, it’s obvious in the way he looks at you, the way his scent changes.”

“Soul bonded.” Wade tried for a smile. “Never thought I’d be taking mate advice from Tony Stark.”

“Trust me when I saw weirder things have happened.” The other Alpha raised his wings in response to Sam calling for him. “Think about what I said, alright? There’s room for you and Peter here. Clint knows and trusts you, and I trust him to only bring the right people to our home, so consider yourself welcome. I mean it.”

Welcome.

Home.

Acceptance.

The later evening found Wade in one of the recliners in the huge common area, his Omega half asleep on his lap as a movie played quietly in the background.

Tony’s unorthodox family was scattered all around the living room-- Pepper tucked into a sofa with Natasha, pink and white wings mingling affectionately. Thor took up an entire couch with Steve on his lap and only a few of his feathers resting on Bruce’s leg. Wanda and Pietro sat on either side of Clint, signing through their conversation and teasing each other like only siblings did. Tony was already asleep with his head in Sam’s lap, the Beta’s wings spread protective and close over the family Alpha, while Bucky and Loki lay on the floor so Baby Maria could crawl between them and babble and wave her fists at the television. Yinsen was working on his tablet, Colonel Rhodes was the reason Pepper’s phone kept lighting up with text messages, and the entire room was full of the scent of family.

Of home, of acceptance, of mates and love and open adoration.

It was…. beautiful… in a way Wade hadn’t expected to find, and the unexpected beauty gave him the courage to nudge his Omega just lightly, just gently.

“Wade?” Peter blinked those big eyes up at him, shifted so his maroon wings covered them both a little more. “What’s up? Are you ready to go?”

“No.” Wade swallowed hard and brushed his rough fingers over Peter’s cheek, melting to his very soul when Peter turned his nose into his palm and purred sweetly. “But um-- I’m ready.”

“Ready.” Peter repeated. “Ready for what?”

“I’m ready.” the Alpha pressed his thumb purposefully into Peter’s bonding spot. “Ready.”

“Oh.” The Omega’s honeysuckle scent flooded with pure happiness, and his voice was whisper soft as he answered, “I’m ready too Alpha my Alpha. Always.”

-- and across the room, Pietro elbowed Wanda sharply and hissed/signed, “Does this mean I have to listen to bonding sex through my wall!? Their room is right next to mine! It’s not fair! I won’t get any sleep at all!”

Wanda put her head in a pillow to muffle her laughter, and Pietro just crossed his arms and huffed at her.

This family was crazy.

*************

Chapter Notes:

It’s general canon that Peter Parker Spidey can lift between 10-12 tons easily, and a standard sized school bus weighs about 12 tons so that’s why I chose that particular scene. That and the scene in SM: HC where Peter complains about Tony treating him like a kid and Ned is like “you are a kid” and Peters like “yeah, one that can catch a school bus!” I just thought it was funny.

I will never not love Wade seeing whole hearted acceptance and unconditional love and finally realizing “I am deserving of this” and I will never not love Peter being so happy and willing to give Wade absolutely everything.

Also HEY Let’s talk about literally terrifying Jarvis! I feel like he’s been getting more and more human in my stories lately and I regret nothing. If this Tony was going to design an AI to protect his family, I don’t think issuing threats about blowing baddies’ brains out would be that out of character, yes? Yes.

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE FIC!

***************

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @livewire28 @tulipsnbigcats @kimstark @alex-stark-rogers @bibbarnes @heeeyitskay @goindownshipping @quietgayguy @nanita90a @justaniche

#ncts fics #spideypool #peter parker #wade wilson #abo dynamics #poly avengers #alpha wade wilson #omega peter parker #alpha tony stark #found family

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itsthestutterforme · 3 years

Text

Undercover (Supernatural)

Redeemed Circuit 3/4

Summary: The Winchesters owed Rowena a favor for saving their tails on a previous hunt. She needed help hunting down a witch that stole from her. In order to do that, she needed Y/N to slip a truth serum into a sponsor's drink. //SMUT Warning 18+

Characters: Dean x POC! reader, Sam x POC! reader, Rowena x POC! reader, Chris Evans as Damien Datson x POC! reader

"This is not what I signed up for," you say with a huff. "I'm here to translate the demon tablet, that's it. No undercover work," you add. "I know but wouldn't it be nice to get your eyes away from those screens and slap on some nice smelling perfume?" Rowena suggests with a smile.

"No." Rowena's smile falls and you add, "Why don't you do it? You're fancy and bougie enough for a gala, aren't you?" "I am dearie, but there's a slight problem with me going." "And what's that?" "I lack melanin, sweetheart." You look up to meet Dean's and Sam's gaze. "This is a load of crap, you know that?"

"So is that a yes?" Sam asks with a small, nervous smile. "Oh my God, fine. But I have a feeling that I'm going to regret this." Rowena laughs and grabs your hand. She stands and drags me into the miniscule bathroom of the hotel.

Apparently, I have to attend this Gala and give a particularly rich sponsor, Damien Datson, a truth serum. This guy has connections to very powerful witches, but there's one that stole something important from Rowena.

A crystal of some sort. The Winchesters owe her from help saving them and their loved ones from the other world. Blah, blah, and here we are.

Once she was done with you, you could barely recognize yourself. Your thick, 3b curls were pulled into a throughly braided bun and your make up matched one of a hot villain you would see in the movies. Rowena did a smokey eyes look with glitter on the outer crease of the eye. She topped the entire look with black lipstick and a satin, maroon dress that dips dangerously low into your breasts.

And of course black, sparky pumps because you refused to wear heels. "You guys owe all the ice cream in the world after this." You snarks as you walk out of the bathroom. "Well, how does she look?" "She looks amazing. You did great, Rowena." Sam says. "I know I did,"

Words were trapped in Dean's throat as he stared at you. There were scars littering her body from when he had the Mark of Cain and tortured you go near death. It was a long time ago and there was a huge misunderstanding.

They moved past it now but it still weighs on him. "Oh look, you made Dean speechless." Rowena taunts. You look to him and his gaze fell on your scar on your leg.

"Hey, come on, let's get this over with so I can get out of these pumps." You say, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You got it," You all walk out of the hotel and hopped into Impala. You let out a soft sigh when Dean pulls up to the steps.

"Remember, darling, smile and slow down your blinking if you want to get a man's attention. It works every time." Rowena suggests. "Got it. See you in a n hour," "Be safe," Sam says.

You nod before leaving the Impala and holding the clutch close to your chest. You walk up the steps and approach the check in table. Rowena mutters a small incantation and the man at the desk let's you in.

"She's good to go," Rowena says and Dean pulls off. "So when are you going to tell Y/N that you're in love with her?" She adds. Dean looks at her through the rear view mirror.

"I've been telling him the same thing but he's hell bent on denying it," "Eh, well I'm sure she'll find a suitor in there who knows what he wants,"

Dean tries his best to suppress a snark remark that would only confirm their suspicions. You walk into the gala and instantly smell champagne and grapes. "Great, there's not even decent food here," you say. "That's exactly what I told my sister when she showed me the menu," a deep voice booms behind you.

"Oh, I wasn't aware I said that aloud. My apologies." You turn around and meet the sparkling navy orbs of beautiful vanilla skinned man. He wears a suit that matches the color of his eyes and tops if off with a black dress shirt and bowtie. The scent of his cologne is alluring and turns something in your stomach I haven't felt before.

"Don't be, you are probably the most honest person at this Gala," "That is saying something," you say, tugging at a loose curl in front of your ear. He tsks lowly and tucks the curl behind your ear. The touch of his hand on your skin sends chills down your body. What the hell is happening? "I'm Damien," "Y/N,"

"Would you like a glass of champagne, Y/N?" "That sounds great," "I know a place that is a lot more interesting. Care to join me?" "Why not?" His hand falls to your lower back and you couldn't help the gasp that left your lips. He hums in response before adding, "You're so responsive."

"I'm a lot of things, honey." You say before taking a sip of your champagne. You follow him up the stairs and into an office. The office looked like something you would find in the Victorian era.

Shelves were littered with thick, colorful books and there was a goregously large window with a bench built right below it to comfortably look out of it.

"It's beautiful," "I would have said as beautiful as you, but it's not even close." "Ha, such a flirt." "You're not the only one that's a lot of things. So are you going to tell me what you're really doing here?" "Beg your pardon?" "No offense, baby, but that make up and that dress has Rowena written all over it."

At this point, you were ready to practice what Dean taught you with a groin kick, right hook and an uppercut. "And I have an inkling on what she wants. But I've got to hand it to her, she sent the perfect distraction."

He steps closer to you and something else awakened in you. Something that your brother taught you after he came back from his first tour as as a Marine.

You grab his arm and swept your leg under his as you twist your body. He falls to the ground and you straddle his waist as you take the dagger from your thigh holster and press it against his throat. "So you like to be on top huh?"

"Just give me Percival's number and nobody will get hurt," you state. "Oh I'll give your her number willingly," "Why?" "You don't believe me, understandable." "Either you never liked her or you rat out your friends when a threat shows up," you state.

He chuckles and grabs your hips before pressing you against the floor. He pins your wrists above your head and the knife falls out of your hand.

"Threat huh?" You send him a glare and he adds, "I never liked her. That's why I'm willing to give you her location." "And what else do you want?"

"That entirely depends on what you agree to." He takes his grip away from your wrists and stands up from the floor. He offers his hands to you and you allow him to lift you off the floor effortlessly.

You brush off the dirt on your hands and dress. You crossed your arms over your chest and he says, "Relax, doll. I won't touch you unless you want me to." You look to him and his face was calm but his eyes still twinkle with amusement.

You brush past him to look out the telescope and smiled when I saw a constellation, one of my favorite ones. "Is that the big dipper and littler dipper side by side?" "I was mesmerized by it too," "Does that normally happen?" "Nope, it's a rare occurrence,"

"Wow, well I'm glad I could see it." You stand upright and turn around to nearly run into his lips. "I thought you said no touching," "I'm not touching you.. yet." You were boxed in against the wall. He's right, he wasn't touching you. But if you moved even an inch, you would touch him.

What the hell? You only live once and he is an extremely attractive man. You tug him closer by the hem of his jacket and lean up to kiss him. He hums lowly into the kiss and his hands slowly slide up your waist. "Damn it, you're intoxicating." He says as he pulls away from your lips.

"Sit down baby," he motions to the desk. You sit down on the of desk and he rubs your thighs. He ducks his head under yours and presses a soft kiss on the base of your neck. His fingers near closer and closer to your clothed heat and you moan in anticipation.

He smiles against your neck and he slowly slides your underwear off. He pulls you to the edge of the desk by your ankles. The nerves get a hold of you and your legs started to shake. "Already, I didn't even get a chance to taste you."

He lifts up the dress and balls it around your waist. He licks his lips before taking you into his mouth. A loud moan leaves your lips as his tongue laps your folds and he sucks at your clit.

His beard scratching against your skin stimulated your body even further. His tongue curls at just the right angle and your legs tremble. He sucks as he pulls back and curls when he goes back in. He stays in the cycle and you buck your hips to find a deeper g-spot but he holds you down.

He twists his tongue so it brushes against your g spot and stimulates your clit at the same time. "Oh fuck." Your hands find his hair and pulls him closer your pussy. You buck your hips again and ride out your first euphoria. He licks up all of your juices before pulling away.

He lifts you into his arms and walks you to the bench. You unzip your dress and pull it over your head. You toss it to the floor and he takes all of you in. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, touching one of your scars. Not wanting any more attention to them, you cups his cheeks and lock your lips with his.

He grabs a hold of your ass and squeezes it tightly. You moan into his mouth and rock your hips against his crotch. "Fuck, doll," he moans as he leans his head back in pleasure. You stop your movements and unfasten his belt to open his pants.

You take his semi hard dick into your hand and give it a few pumps while stick rocking your hips. "You keep that up and I'll finish before we even get started." He says breathlessly. "Do you have a-" you were cut off by him pulling out a condom from his pocket.

You take it and peel it open to wrap it around his member. You sit up a little to line yourself up with him before sinking on him until he bottoms out. "Fuck, you're tighter than I thought," you jerk your hips a little and flex your inner walls when you bounce up.

The grip on your ass tightens and you lean forward to hold onto the wall for balance. You bounce faster spell the world coconut on repeat until you feel his dick twitch inside of you.

Your thrusts became slow and hard until you feel the warmth of his seed. He lifts you up and lays your back on the bench cushions. He pulls out of you to take off this condom and put on a new one. Your back arches when one of his hands slide between your legs and rubs your clit.

He unclips your bra to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You yell out in pure bliss when his covered dick rams into your g-spot that made your walls flutter. Your rolls your hips to match his thrusts and your nails dug into his lower back, sinking himself deeper into you.

You two moan in unison and your second orgasm washed over you. He puts one of your legs on his shoulder to fit the both of you on the bench. Then without warning, he rams into you hard and fast.

Your body was bouncing and shaking under his touch and her rubs harder circles on your clit. Your eyes are pressed shut and you turn your head to the side, unable to form words. Your third orgasm came quicker this time but he keeps thrusting into you. He twists his hips at a different angle and you pull him deeper inside of you by pulling his hips.

You could practically feel him in your cervix. "Oh God," you whimper when he takes your nipple into his mouth again while he pounds into you. Your stomach did flips and you moans matched with his thrusts until pinched your clit, sending you over the edge for the forth time. Soon after, he came again and pulls out of you.

You sit up on opposing ends of the bench and you stare out the window. He stands from the bench and puts his pants and boxers back on. He pulls out a handerchief and hands it to you.

"Thanks," you say, gently taking it from him and wiping off the slickness from your thighs and stomach. A warm blanket is wrapped around your body and you feel his hand brush a loose curl from your face. "You okay?" He asks, softly. "Never better," you say with a smile.

"You mind if I hold you?" he asks, taking you by surprise. Out of all of the sexual experiences you've experienced, none of them were as considerate as Damien. "Sure."

"You seem surprised," he states as he slides behind you and pulls your back against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and draws small, soft circles on your stomach. You close your eyes and lean your head on his shoulder. "You're good at this,"

"Hm?" "At making a woman feel cared about," "Is that your way of saying you're taken for granted?" "How did-" "I'm a witch, remember?" "Ah, mind reading," you say. "It definitely helps at times, but no, I can see and read your aura."

"Okay, and what does mine tell you." "It tells me that you feel like a broken glass, and are fearful that you'll never be your version of fixed. You feel guilt but you're having trouble understanding why,"

You twist your body to meet his gaze and he adds, "Am I right?" "I should head back," You take the blanket with you and gather your clothes. You pull on your underwear and dress, careful not to smear your make up. You find a mirror and reapply your black lip stick.

You take out a few bobby pins and clips and your damp, curly hair falls to your shoulders. You feels his hands on your hips and he pulls your hair from your shoulders. He presses a soft kiss to the curve of your neck and says, "If you really feel that way about who you are with, then don't go back."

"It's not that simple," "Sometimes it is. Just think about it." He says before handing me a burner phone. You look from the phone to him before gently taking it. "I will," You turn and he cups your cheeks to kiss you but you pull away.

"Ah, ah, you should have kissed me before I put my lip stick on." "Is that so?" He pulls you to his chest and lifts you up around his waist. You could feel his hard on against your thigh and moan softly.

"I'm pretty sure they're waiting in the.." You trail off when his neck kisses became more sensual. "Make it quick," you say, finally giving in.

Fast forward to walking down the stairs and out of the gala. You tuck the burner phone into your purse before hopping into the Impala. You had a feeling that you would get busted, even after fixing your make up and spraying some perfume.

"Hey," Sam says. "I got a burner phone with all of his contacts and he told me which one was Percival," "I have a feeling you didn't even need the truth serum, did you dearie?" Rowena asks. "No, I didn't. Can we go please?"

"Why the rush, darling? Wait, is that.. cologne?" Embarassment burned your cheeks and you didn't open your mouth to defend yourself. "Y/N, you vixen." she says, nudging your shoulder. Not wanting to meet anyone's gaze, you look out the window.

They finally pull off and you hear your phone chime.

"You'll thank me later," -Rowena.

You look over your shoulder at her and she sends your a playful smirk.

"What are you talking about?" you text.

"You'll see," she responds.

We pull into the garage of the bunker and the first place you go is the bathroom to rid yourself of the hairspray, make up and Damien's scent. Although you still found it intoxicating.

You walk out the bathroom as you dry your hair with a smaller towel. You find Rowena on your bed with the burner phone next to her. "Is there a problem?" "No, just curiousity. How was he, you know, in bed?" "Rowena," you scold.

"Oh come on, I've seen women kill just to be in the same room as him. All you had to do was show up and he was all over you." "He was.. the first actual gentleman that I slept with. He cleaned me up and held me afterwards. It was like he truly cared about md,"

"But I don't know, it was probably some ploy to make me feel better about myself," you add. "On the contrary, he actually texted you a few minutes ago. "What?" "Yeah, he seems interested. I would definitely set up another date,"

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Dean says, annoyed from listening to the conversation about another man touching you. "Good luck," Rowena mouths before leaving the room. Dean walks into your room and shuts the door. "Dean?"

#dean smut #dean winchester #sam winchester #rowena #supernatural #chris evans #chrisevans x reader

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keyheartsia-dorm · 3 years

Text

*Sighs*

I’m bored let’s do a lore dump

It’s a Map~

Oh Yeah I mentioned a Sprinkle of Final Fantasy and KH but I haven’t talked about that Aspect of my Canon At all have I? Well truth be told it’s cause I’m focusing on getting the more Basic Aspects of my Oc’s Before I get into that but Guess who made this Baby on a Whim!

So this is the Map of the Isle of Light well the Main Island at least there are other Littler Bits of land Yet to surface I̶t̶’̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶t̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶I̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶ ̶A̶d̶d̶ ̶o̶n̶t̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶L̶a̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶h̶a̶h̶a̶ oh yeah did I mention it’s a FLOATING ISLAND!! Yeah P Sick right? Okay so I’ll go into the Island’s History and it’s Area’s but it may have some Spoilers I guess you could say but honestly I wouldn’t wait on me making a full fledged...Anything outta the Story I’ve made like I’ll sum it up (not here but like in general) but comics are hard Videos are hard Fics are hard maybe not individually but this is more of a Anime Series then an Anime movie if you feel me without further ado...Stuff

Oh god this was longer then expected

Some General Background

So The Isle of Light was Originally the Black Forest A Place of Freedom and Expression for all who lead lives who Needed to hide Such and Some Such was The Coven of the Black Forest made up of 3 sisters (not biologically also there was a 4th) they all found comfort and love with each other one being the Princess of the Kingdom nearby (The 4th and Littlest one) She had a fiancé who was Mad with a Lust for power and Control over things he Didn’t need power and control over He Treated the Littlest one Cruelly when the other 3 Decided enough was enough when he did...SOMETHING to Part of the Forest so Horrible it turned Dead and Cruel (Subtle Subtle Hint Hint Wink) When all 3 Of them saw the Ruin They went so mad they turned to Darkness and fought him and all his Manmade monstrosities there when the Princess Arrived there was so much Dark energy everywhere it was Bad like Real Bad So with her friends now monsters she Fought them with a heavy heart her heart broke so much she fell afterwards immediately Unintentionally Sending her Kingdom to somewhere nobody knows where she is though...That’s an even bigger question BUT the story would live on as a Weilder of the key blade who slayed 3 evil witches...(Oh yeah did I mention Crowley knows And that’s Why He Let the Girls Attend because he thought they might be the Black Forest Coven Reincarnated And the Prophecy that when they Awakened the “Keys to their Hearts once more” They’d Free The Princess From her Mirror Prison Oh Yeah also the princess DID Die But her Reincarnation Goes inside a Mirror and is trapped there when she turns 17 and Doesn’t leave until she dIES ALSO ITS HIS OLDEST DAUGHTER THIS TIME ALSO YES HE HAS 2 DAUGHTERS...Okay lemme just calm down..Also yeah she thought of the Princess System) but After a Wish got safe haven for all Keyblade Weilders (I have KH Oc’s other then these don’t ask Longer story they live and basically founded Fortana Haven) I guess the Isle of Light Rose from the Shadow Realm to be just that oh yeah also the Isle of light is literally that kingdom if ya didn’t know

Fortana Haven

(Some Love Nikki BGs for Visualization if I’m Wrong about this from being from Love Nikki Correct me pls and if this is your art sorry and I’ll take it down)

Okay this Place Basically a Modern Fairytale Everything is so Rustic~ but they Have Cafe’s and Stuff~ They’re still very much in Development as a City..or town..or whatever Boss of everything Locket Clover (An OG KH OC) Runs Everything Wonderfully she welcomes everything with open arms and If you wanna run a shop or want a Building for a particular Thing or Activity she’s Pretty open to the idea unless it’s Incredibly Dumb But she will make you get The Wood and Supplies and The Bricks and the Brick Stick Sauce or whatever it’s called she might get give you help constructing but dang is she a firm believer in “DIY” but I like how she’s Determined to Have a Good Balance between Industrial and Rural In fact there is a Mall (God knows how it got there) And that’s pretty much all there is for your Juicy Capitalism Fix She Runs “Hope Stir” Workshop according to Her boyfriend Ephmer It was always Called a workshop but for the longest time she did EVERYTHING Subtle Farmwork And Animal Husbandry ACTUAL Workshop things all cause she wanted to help every Weilder she knew out and made sure they had a place for food and such She is a bit of a Moneyholic but when you’ve been doing what she’s been doing I bet you’d be too overall While it doesn’t have much History yet Fortana Haven (4-Tana is how you say it btw) Is truly well a Haven

The Crowned Castle

(More Pics for Visuals I don’t think this is from love Nikki but if this is your artwork same applies I’m not gonna be the guy who Claims just cause it’s on google it belongs to everybody or something even though yeah I did find it on google)

The...Crown of the Isle of Light Before We came to the Isle for the first time Apparently Everyone In Fortana thought it was Haunted! Which..Fair enough Before we Placed the Princess Medals (Okay QUICK SUMMARY OF THIS BIT Okay so in the KH Mobile game there’s Medals and I wanted them to be in my story basically They’re Memories formed into powers when all my Oc’s Met the Princess’s Of Heart They Each got a Medal Representing them and then the Medals Restored the Castle I left out some details but basically that’s it) This Castle is the BOMB There’s Cool Pretty Princess Room’s And a Bedroom JUST FOR SLUMBER PARTIES!! And it’s just a good Place to Vibe and Hang out with your friends (I’m sorry I’m about to Lore Dumb all over this place) The Princess’s Fiancé Made a Crown for her before she could put it on he put some of his Subconscious in it poor Eden When she wanted to get stronger for Malleus (Malleus is her adoptive big brother and she was upset cause she felt she wasn’t good enough ran away to get power and found the crown) It really did almost completely overtake her I shudder thinking about it “Kachow”...Ew (The fiancé said that a lot ok) a lotta bad stuff happened here but as selfish as this may sound I feel like I earned my spot here and I wanna keep sharing it with my friends

The Matteria Deadland

(Also Imagine some Pointy Mountains and some Lite Mech debris)

Man What to say... So Much Happened here as well probably Tragedy I can’t comprehend there is a few good places about this place though Diane likes to Scavange around Here for Interesting Debris Eden doesn’t like the Air around here but she says she finds Interesting Jewels here and Latte says the same thing so there is good to be found here We all come here every so often to try to help..Anything grow but they don’t call this deadland for nothing but still ya can’t give up hope! I wanna grow some beautiful Lillies here one day! Also hey! Also pretty cool name (Matter-RI-a is how you say it btw) All the sadness that happened here it actually did make the land rich in Metal if nothing else there’s even a whole Cavern we found in the mountains...it almost killed us but we found it

Opal Cove

(also these are Gacha Backgrounds)

Is this Place an Actual Cove? Idk

Is this Place super cool and pretty? Yeah

Is this one of my favorite places in this whole Isle? FRICK YEAH

okay I love a lot about this Isle but Opal Cove!!

Our mermaid friend Mitella I guess “Runs” the Place Our KINDA merman Friend Skye also spends a whole lotta time here Basically it’s a Giant Pool and rumor has it...It’s endless Water...CAUSE IT IS SOMEHOW CAUSE I KNOW weird thing is the Sand it’s at the end of the Isle so there’s not really a beach just...Sand Near Water Odd The Coral Near the Bottom or well “Bottom” Is SO PRETTY it’s like Crystals in the morning the light shines its SO DANG PRETTY I’m glad Mitella is a Sea Witch Or else we couldn’t go so deep underwater it’s SOOO worth it!! She does NOT let a lotta people at once though Heck she doesn’t like Skye that much from what I can tell but she makes an Exception for ~friends~ So...BE NICE TO OUR CUTE MITELLA I’m glad we have a Convient Place for Blitzball practice and also Swimming around with pretty Mermaid Tails (New Nix Mermaid Action Fashion Doll only 25.99! Get it for your Child or they’ll cry!! Also a 5 dollar Boy doll take his Shirt off! That’s it!) Hyde Mi And Skye are kinda an Iconic Trio Mi Also Teaches how to swim with a mermaid tail better for the Weilders who wanna go to Atlantica Hey Mermaids gotta eat so get a Swim Lesson! (And also a transforming Mermaid Doll!)

Bianco Nero Forest

Well tbh I have the least to say because it’s Appeal is simple ADVENTURE AND MYSTERY! Lots can happen in Bianco Nero it’s Basically the Base foundation of the whole Isle! Presumably cause it’s the Black Forest or was at least though it can be dangerous it’s the only place heartless are know to appear in the whole isle (So where you’ll grind In the Video Game that’ll definitely happen :Says the girl who can’t commit to a single comic) They drop all sortsa cool stuff! Heck you can FIND Cool stuff just...Around so..Yeah!!

It’s 2 am maybe I’ll edit this later thanks for reading sorry I got obviously tired by the end goodbye my dearests~ (Seriously y’all deserve like a reward for reading this dumpster fire) I was inspired by those maps in those scholastic books like the Rainbow Fairies I think it was called (Anyone remember those?) that had lil maps in the beginning and also the map’s stickers all on PicsArt

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #gacha life #keyheartsia #oc #gacha club #twisted wonderland dorm #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland oc dorm #anime #oc lore #kingdom hearts Oc #oh my god did you read this? thank you I worked so hard just read it pls #twst oc #twst oc dorm #Oc lore dump

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jackoshadows · 4 years

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So this is a write up on the Jon Snow - Sansa Stark relationship in the books with quotes and excerpts. For the folks who are interested in knowing where these two characters really stand with each other rather than the fanon version that’s often seen on the interwebs.

The relationship between Jon and Sansa can be best described as ‘Indifferent and distant siblings’ and they are the least close out of all the Starks.

The 5 times Jon mentions Sansa in his 42 POV chapters include thoughts on Sansa brushing lady and singing, Sansa being with Arya in KL and losing Lady, her being enchanted if she sees the magical wall, and her telling him how to talk to girls. Like Arya often does, Jon qualifies his description of Sansa with an ‘even’ to indicate how she is different to his other siblings.

He missed his true brothers: little Rickon, bright eyes shining as he begged for a sweet; Robb, his rival and best friend and constant companion; Bran, stubborn and curious, always wanting to follow and join in whatever Jon and Robb were doing. He missed the girls too, even Sansa, who never called him anything but "my half brother" since she was old enough to understand what bastard meant. And Arya . . . he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful.

Compare the descriptions he gives his other siblings to what he says about Sansa. I have often read that Sansa calling Jon ‘Half brother’ or bastard was not a big deal because all of Jon’s siblings did it. And this is true. But the difference is that Sansa ALWAYS made sure to treat Jon that way, when his other siblings interacted with Jon normally. Something that Jon noticed enough that this was the only thing that he highlights for her.

It’s clear from the text that Sansa treated Jon with condescending pity. I would argue that Sansa’s treatment of Arya was actually far worse than the way she treated Jon. For Sansa, Jon was just a low class bastard and his faults were only natural because he was ‘common’. Sansa even condescends to educate him on how to properly talk to girls. Arya on the other hand got bullied because she was a high class noble but committed the sin of being unsatisfactory in terms of looks and behavior.

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring. And Jon's mother had been common, or so people whispered. Once, when she was littler, Sansa had even asked Mother if perhaps there hadn't been some mistake.

This is why it made no sense when the show had Sansa apologizing to Jon and completely bypassed Sansa’s treatment of Arya in the books, making it look like Arya was the mean sister. If Sansa had to apologize to anyone it would be to Arya and not Jon.

Sansa’s patronizing pity for Jon comes from the fact that he is of low birth. She attributes emotions like ‘jealousy’ to his birth and pities him for it

Sansa sighed as she stitched. "Poor Jon," she said. "He gets jealous because he's a bastard." - AGoT

If this was what the Night’s Watch was truly like, she felt sorry for her bastard half brother, Jon. - AGoT

She sang for mercy, for the living and the dead alike, for Bran and Rickon and Robb, for her sister Arya and her bastard brother Jon Snow, away off on the Wall. - AGoT

These are the only times Jon is mentioned in Sansa’s POV chapters till AFfC.

When we come to their emotional thoughts of connection and longing and love, let’s see what happens there. For Jon:

He remembered the day he had left Winterfell, all the bittersweet farewells; Bran lying broken, Robb with snow in his hair, Arya raining kisses on him after he’d given her Needle.

Even the thought made him feel foolish; he was a man grown now, a black brother of the Night’s Watch, not the boy who’d once sat at Old Nan’s feet with Bran and Robb and Arya.

That might mean Lord Eddard would return to Winterfell, and his sisters as well. He might even be allowed to visit them, with Lord Mormont’s permission. It would be good to see Arya’s grin again and to talk with his father.

Jon Snow straightened himself and took a long deep breath. Forgive me, Father. Robb, Arya, Bran . . . forgive me, I cannot help you. He has the truth of it. This is my place.

Playing, Jon thought in astonishment, grown men playing like children, throwing snowballs the way Bran and Arya once did, and Robb and me before them.

We know Sansa has played with Bran and Arya and snowballs. But she is not included in Jon’s nostalgic memories.

We see something similar in Sansa’s POV chapters about her family

Tommen was all of eight. He reminded her of her own little brother, Bran. They were of an age. Bran was back at Winterfell, a cripple, yet safe. Sansa would have given anything to be with him.

If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa's dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya.

Merry Crane always had an amusing story, and little Lady Bulwer reminded her of Arya, though not so fierce.

She had last seen snow the day she'd left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball Arya tried to make kept coming apart in her hands.

I don't want any Lannister, she wanted to say. I want Willas, I want Highgarden and the puppies and the barge, and sons named Eddard and Bran and Rickon.

That was such a sweet dream, Sansa thought drowsily. She had been back in Winterfell, running through the godswood with her Lady. Her father had been there, and her brothers, all of them warm and safe. If only dreaming could make it so . . .

If Lady was here, I would not be afraid. Lady was dead, though; Robb, Bran, Rickon, Arya, her father, her mother, even Septa Mordane. All of them are dead but me. She was alone in the world now.

She remembered a summer's snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning. They'd each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she'd had none. Bran had been perched on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach, but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless.

She had dreamt that she was little, still sharing a bedchamber with her sister Arya.

Jon is completely absent from her thoughts about her childhood in Winterfell and missing her family.

Let’s next look at how Jon treats Arya and Sansa’s respective marriages to Stark enemies. Upon being told by Stannis that Sansa is now lady Lannister, Jon’s immediate thoughts about all this is how Tyrion is faring as a kinslayer! He does not spare a single thought for a sister forcefully married off or her whereabouts and if she was doing okay. Contrast his complete indifference to Robb and Catelyn’s reaction to this news:

Robb took her hand. "They married her to Tyrion Lannister." Catelyn's fingers clutched at his. "The Imp." "He's the Kingslayer's brother. Oathbreaking runs in their blood." Robb's fingers brushed the pommel of his sword. "If I could I'd take his ugly head off. Sansa would be a widow then, and free. There's no other way that I can see. They made her speak the vows before a septon and don a crimson cloak." Catelyn remembered the twisted little man she had seized at the crossroads inn and carried all the way to the Eyrie. "I should have let Lysa push him out her Moon Door. My poor sweet Sansa . . . why would anyone do this to her?" - ASoS

Their rage here is exactly what Jon feels when he hears about Arya’s marriage

By now she’d be eleven, Jon thought. Still a child. “I have no sister. Only brothers. Only you.” Lady Catelyn would have rejoiced to hear those words, he knew. That did not make them easier to say. His fingers closed around the parchment. Would that they could crush Ramsay Bolton’s throat as easily. - ADwD

Sansa is the same when it comes to her complete indifference to Jon. We hear all the time about how Sansa is the queen of compassion and that there’s no character in the whole of asoiaf who is kinder than Sansa Stark. But get this – Sansa has been masquerading as a bastard in the Vale this whole time and not once – not once – does she think of the bastard brother that she grew up with. There is no regret there for how she looked down on her bastard brother.

Catelyn for instance feels a twinge of guilt when she meets Mya Stone in the Vale

It did not please her; it was an effort for Catelyn to keep the smile on her face. Stone was a bastard's name in the Vale, as Snow was in the north, and Flowers in Highgarden; in each of the Seven Kingdoms, custom had fashioned a surname for children born with no names of their own. Catelyn had nothing against this girl, but suddenly she could not help but think of Ned's bastard on the Wall, and the thought made her angry and guilty, both at once. She struggled to find words for a reply.

Meanwhile after being reminded by Myranda Royce that Jon exists, Sansa:

She had not thought of Jon in ages. - AFfC

This is true. The last time she thought of Jon was the three times mentioned above in book one AGoT. Even in book 4 we see Sansa thinking of a way to get away from Littlefinger and never once remembers Jon at the wall.

Littlefinger and Lord Petyr looked so very much alike. She would have fled them both, perhaps, but there was nowhere for her to go. Winterfell was burned and desolate, Bran and Rickon dead and cold. Robb had been betrayed and murdered at the Twins, along with their lady mother. Tyrion had been put to death for killing Joffrey, and if she ever returned to King's Landing the queen would have her head as well. The aunt she'd hoped would keep her safe had tried to murder her instead. Her uncle Edmure was a captive of the Freys, while her great-uncle the Blackfish was under siege at Riverrun.

This is a contrast to Arya trying her best to get to the wall and Jon after leaving KL and sadly failing at every attempt. That’s why the show’s decision to reunite Jon and Sansa while leaving out Arya till the very end is a massive disservice to both relationships in the books. GRRM has invested everything in Jon and Arya’s relationship and nothing in Jon and Sansa’s. Arya trying for 3 books to get to Jon and failing and finally getting there? That’s actual payoff. Sansa thinking once of wanting to see the bastard brother that she forgot about? D&D – let’s unite Sansa with Jon!

Much is made of the ‘it would be sweet to see him again’ line, ignoring the couple of lines that comes before.

She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still . . . with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again.

Lines that demonstrate that Sansa STILL does not get it when it comes to class and relationships. Her attitude here is more – oh well, all my real brothers are dead and only Jon is left, so I will have to make do since I have been reduced to his level it’s ok now.

Then there’s the other line – “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa". I have already discussed this in another post but this was more about Jon kicking down the position to the next in line rather than his overwhelming love for Sansa. At this point Jon had already decided not to accept the offer because of Stannis’ precondition that he burn down the Winterfell Godswood. It’s possible that Jon does accept the KITN/Lord of Winterfell position in the next book if Robb’s will comes into the picture.

And finally we have heard often of Jon’s sexist dislike of the ladies when it’s more Jon’s disdain for a type that embodies Catelyn and Sansa. Jon likes the ladies just fine – he has an appreciation for Alys Karstark and she is not running around waving a sword. It’s their personality - a personality that mirrors Arya’s - that he finds attractive.

A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.

Here Jon demonstrates a weird contempt for ladies brushing their hair. Where does he get this from from I wonder?

Arya was a trial, it must be said. Half a boy and half a wolf pup. Forbid her anything and it became her heart's desire. She had Ned's long face, and brown hair that always looked as though a bird had been nesting in it. I despaired of ever making a lady of her. She collected scabs as other girls collect dolls, and would say anything that came into her head. - Catelyn VII, ACOK

He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird's nest.

And Arya . . . he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful.

She had never cared if she was pretty…Only her father had ever called her that. Him, and Jon Snow, sometimes. Her mother used to say she could be pretty if she would wash and brush her hair…the way her sister did. To her sister and her sister’s friends and all the rest, she had just been Arya Horseface."

“…my hair’s messy and my nails are dirty and my feet are all hard.” Robb wouldn’t care about that, probably, but her mother would. Lady Catelyn always wanted her to be like Sansa, to sing and dance and sew and mind her courtesies. Just thinking of it made Arya try to comb her hair with her fingers, but it was all tangles and mats, and all she did was tear some out."

Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. She loved nothing so well as tales of knightly valor. Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, you can see that. I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. She had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft . . . the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper.

Poor Arya’s disdain for hair brushing is probably why Jon looks down on the ladies spending time on their hair. Jon has always considered Arya an outsider like him and sees the both of them as being unfairly treated by the likes of Catelyn and Sansa. Everything that Jon appreciates in a woman shows us glimpses of Arya and everything that Jon dislikes shows us glimpses of Cat and Sansa.

This is indicative of the fact that growing up Arya was pretty much the only positive female figure in his life and that is why he is looking for an ‘Arya’ in the women he loves and befriends. This is why he gives Needle to Arya, allows spearwives to take over an entire castle and defend it and is appreciative of ‘warrior princesses’.

For example, Alys is physically supposed to look like Arya and both Melisandre and Jon mistake her for Arya in her visions. But, it’s only after they interact and speak that Jon compares her to Arya – because it’s her bravery that reminds him of his little sister.

Jon turned to Alys Karstark. “My lady. Are you ready?” “Yes. Oh, yes.” “You’re not scared?” The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. “Let him be scared of me.” The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and her eyes sparkled. “Winter’s lady.” Jon squeezed her hand.

There’s also some nonsense being peddled around that Jon had a crush on Sansa because he described her as looking “radiant”. It’s more likely that this is GRRM just being descriptive using character POVs. I mean, we also have Ned gushing about how hot Bobby Baratheon was - thoughts that spawned a thousand NedRob shipping fans...

Fifteen years past, when they had ridden forth to win a throne, the Lord of Storm’s End had been clean-shaven, clear-eyed, and muscled like a maiden’s fantasy. Six and a half feet tall, he towered over lesser men, and when he donned his armor and the great antlered helmet of his House, he became a veritable giant. He’d had a giant’s strength too, his weapon of choice a spiked iron warhammer that Ned could scarcely lift. In those days, the smell of leather and blood had clung to him like perfume.

This does not imply that Ned had a crush on Robert Baratheon. Jon also calls Jaime and Cersei beautiful – does not mean he has a crush on them.

This is Jon’s description of Satin

The boy claimed to be eighteen, older than Jon, but he was green as summer grass for all that. Satin, they called him, even in the wool and mail and boiled leather of the Night’s Watch; the name he’d gotten in the brothel where he’d been born and raised. He was pretty as a girl with his dark eyes, soft skin, and raven’s ringlets.

Soft skin? Uh... But - no offense to the many valid Jon/Satin shippers out there - Jon/Satin is not a cannon romantic relationship unfortunately. Even though there is more interaction and an emotional connection between Jon and Satin in the books to justify shipping them romantically than there is for Jon and Sansa.

So in conclusion, Jon and Sansa have pretty much a non-existent relationship in the books and their plots do not in any way cross or connect with each other. I suspect that will not change in the near future considering Jon is most probably going to become enmeshed in the grand Northern conspiracy that includes Rickon and Arya and has to fight the Others beyond the wall where Bran is. If he does meet up with Sansa, it may well be at the very end as these are two characters who don’t have much of a plot purpose or relationship that requires meeting up.

#Jon Snow #Sansa Stark #Arya Stark #Catelyn Stark #Jon Snow and his relationships with the women in his family #ASoIaF #anti-D&D #anti-GOT #Sansa and Jon #anti Jonsa

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secret-engima · 4 years

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Sloppy Unedited gift for SparkleCryptid

(So the last Aeon chapter broke my Feels so obviously I HAD to do an angsty fusion piece with my Corling Frisk. Obviously. There’s a humorous Omake at the end to make up for it tho? @sparklecryptid I hope you like it!

...

-Frisk falls back into his … original world when he’s 15. It’s his choice to leave. His choice to make the leap rather than let himself be used as a reset. He won’t let it happen. His family has their happy ending, a REAL happy ending, where everyone is alive and Asriel is whole and and HAPPY and not trapped as a flower like he nearly was. Frisk will not let his ability be what ruins that for them.

-And so Frisk jumps and falls.

-He wakes up in a strange world where there are no sentient Monsters, where there are only humans and the night-creeping daemons that have no Souls, no Hearts … nothing. They are empty. They are terrifying.

-It’s hard, being a blind teen in a strange world.

-It gets both harder and easier when, in the middle of stumbling his way through the wilds, his body shakes and sweats and all his senses Wake Up until it physically hurts. Until he can hear the heartbeat of wildlife what feels like half a mile away and feel the whisper of the air on his skin like a knife blade.

-How he survives what he will later learn is called Presenting, out there in he wilds he will never know.

-But he does. He picks himself up and survives. He finds odd jobs in little places that take pity on a blind teenager —Omega Sentinel, they whisper, and Frisk does not know what it means but it makes them treat him kindly and so he accepts it for now—.

-But Frisk never stays in one place for long, he doesn’t like it, but if he stays for too long, people ask Questions that he cannot answer. So he leaves before they can.

-He should have stayed put.

-He finds the Tempering Grounds by accident, drawn there by the voices of the ghosts, the lingering whispers of energy and Soul that reminds him almost- ALMOST of monster kind.

-He realizes too late that this place is the rare place with an automatic save point that overrides his last one only once he’s deep inside the Grounds, leaving him without an easy way out.

-Gilgamesh finds him moments after that.

-And Frisk is a Pacifist, but he does not want to die, he’s died too many times already since falling into the Underground, and then coming here, so when Gilgamesh attacks, Frisk fights back. He fights defensively, but viciously, and his magic gives Gilgamesh pause. Frisk flinched when metal fingers grip his chin too tight and a cold, hollow voice orders him to open his blind eyes.

-Frisk doesn’t know it, but his eyes are distinctive.

-Gilgamesh has only seen one person with that shade of blue before, and with talent so bright that this blind, untrained Sentinel child can survive him for even a few moments, let alone as long as Frisk has.

-Gilgamesh knocks Frisk out and drags him deep into the grounds.

-Frisk is only 16 years old.

-He doesn’t know how long he spends there, fighting, learning, scrabbling to survive when Gilgamesh keeps trying to push him into fighting to kill and Frisk refuses to do so. He dies three times before he learns it’s better to take his beating and crawl to the garden to recuperate rather than try to escape. The save point is too close to where Gilgamesh finds him, and he is so very tired of fighting Gilgamesh and praying he takes an interest in Frisk again rather than slipping past his guard and killing him, forcing another reset to that blasted save point.

-Frisk doesn’t know how long he spends in that place with the things that are like Souls but Not. But eventually … he is no longer along.

-He hears Gilgamesh return from the entrance, can tell by the shift of fabric and flesh and the heartbeat thrumming to his constantly enhanced hearing (a necessity around Gilgamesh, who takes no pity for the headaches learning to control his “Sentinel senses” causes, who’s only mercy is to let Frisk writhe on the ground in a zone-out without stabbing him until Frisk can drag his senses under control and use them to compensate for his blindness) that Gilgamesh does not return alone. Gilgamesh flops the unconscious body Frisk will soon learn is the boy named Aeon, and coldly tells him that this is his brother and they will both be trained.

-And Frisk is no longer alone.

-For Aeon’s sake, Frisk wishes he still was.

-And Aeon is not like Frisk. Aeon is quiet and cold and predatory, all raw edges and anger that Frisk remembers too well and refuses to bend to again. Aeon takes to Gilgamesh’s training like a fish to water, even when the water is poison and makes him scream.

-Aeon tries to stay away from Frisk at first, but Gilgamesh is a brutal master and survival is hard enough without trying to remain aloof. He throws them into joint training, forces Aeon to guard Frisk when he loses control and falls into a zone-out, forces Frisk to use magic to defend Aeon while Aeon shudders on the floor from the breaking of a forced Bond.

-When survival is on the line, it is impossible not to become close. When the only other living being there is in the same boat as you, it becomes impossible not to trust. Despite their vastly different personalities, despite how Gilgamesh learns to hurt Aeon to try (and fail) to force Frisk to fight to the death, despite how Gilgamesh starts to punish Frisk every time Aeon does not “live up to his potential” … they trust each other. Wholly, Utterly. They do not agree on everything (Aeon does not understand why Frisk has so much magic yet will not kill, Frisk does not understand why Aeon is so stubborn he will not run away while Frisk covers for him, because he would if Aeon would just agree to leave him behind) but they are all the other has. And so there is trust.

-(And if at night Frisk curls around his younger, littler brother and whispers stories of the Underground, of Mercy and Resets and Souls, if Frisk tells Aeon the secret of the Dust on his hands and how if he starts killing again he won’t be able to stop, if one day Aeon sees Frisk anger Gilgamesh too far and screams as the armored ghost snap Frisk’s neck, only for the world to shiver and reset to just before that disastrous spar gone wrong because Frisk has chosen to lock himself deeper in the Tempering Ground with save points to keep from leaving Aeon alone… well.)

-(Aeon may not understand where his older brother is coming from, or why he choses a cycle of death over landing a killing blow himself, Aeon believes. In the Underground, in the Save Points, in Frisk’s genuine inability to kill being something other than cowardice or lack of skill. He does not understand, but this is Frisk. There is no one else in the world he would believe more at this point. He can’t afford anything else)

-Together they spend a long time in the Tempering Grounds, scrounging for food in the garden, whispering stories to each other of their respective pasts and the different Outsides they grew up knowing. Gilgamesh tries to mold them into perfect weapons, torments one when the other will not break, batters both when they do not yield, and in the process forges the two into a conjoined pair. A set of tools that any warrior craves. Because Aeon is a sword, sharp and unyielding and deadly. And Frisk still will not kill, but his magic is fast and strong and unyielding as a finely crafted shield.

-It is Frisk’s magic that buys Aeon a moment to get under Gilgamesh’s guard and draw blood.

-Gilgamesh laughs as he lets them go.

-Frisk shivers under the touch of sunlight and fresh air, cannot even bring himself to care about the stranger who makes interested noises at finding two feral children rather than the one he threw into the Grounds (Frisk still watches, still tracks with ears and nose to make sure the man does not get too close to Aeon).

-They wander. It never occurs to them to separate. Somewhere amid the hunts that they both take (Frisk will not kill, but he is not afraid to flip grand horns onto their backs to keep Aeon safe, and Aeon no longer questions why he is always the one to land the killing blow), Aeon Presents. Frisk mutters curses the entire way back.

-Dave the Hunter teaches Aeon how to Shield and it’s clear from the other lessons he throws in that he expects the two of them to bond. Apparently that’s the norm for Sentinels and Guides that are as conjoined at the hip as Aeon and Frisk.

-They don’t bond. A bond is not a gift to them. It is a chain. It is the pain and freezing cold that bites Aeon’s soul, and the agony of being pinned down by a metal foot and forced to listen as another screams. So they don’t bond. Frisk will not ask that of Aeon, and Aeon will not offer.

-Aeon does, however, reach out and wrap his newfound shields around Frisk’s mind when the world becomes too much, and the iron control that keeps him balanced on a knife’s edge of “seeing” the world through enhanced senses and losing himself to a zone-out slips and he falls into the white hot jumble of too much world-sound-smell-life. Aeon’s touch is rough when he pulls Frisk back and wraps shields around his mind, but that’s alright. Frisk trusts him. Frisk knows him.

-It’s not his old home. It’s not the family he misses so deeply, but it’s … well enough he supposes. It could be worse.

-They overhear talk of the prince, and Frisk does not flinch as his younger brother carves a bloody path to the back of the truck.

-Aeon growls when Frisk agrees unthinkingly to walk the prince back to Hammerhead … or until the Crownsguard find them.

-When Cor spots Noctis, the little prince is leading not one, but two bedraggled boys, one in each hand, and something in Cor screams when he sees Aeon’s face and blue eye. The other boy is a mystery for a moment, but then he shakes his shaggy brown bangs out of his eyes and Cor sees that specific shade of ice blue, sharp against Frisk’s naturally darker skin.

-Aeon goes down to the sniper, and before the Crownsguard have even reached the halfway mark to him, Frisk’s magic is there as he screams. Blue bones of magic erupt from the ground, cracking ribs and pinning the enemy down in a strangle-hold JUST shy of being fatal while Frisk presses his hands against the bloody wound and wails like a wild thing.

-Cor ends up knocking Frisk out, it’s the only way to let anyone even reach Aeon to give him medical care, because while even in his panic Frisk will not kill, that does not stop him from summoning Gaster Blasters to threaten all who come too close.

-The brothers wake up in Insomnia. Cor convinces Aeon to stay, and where Aeon goes, Frisk goes.

-Cor is Very Unhappy about the state of both his newly discovered sons. One a feral weapon with scars, the other a blind boy with even more scars and magic unlike anything they’ve ever seen (it’s not Lucis Caelum or Oracle magic, Regis is certain, but what option that leaves … they do not know).

-Frisk is … just wondering if maybe this place will be okay, if these people who treat them with kindness will be alright, when the snap bond happens between Aeon and Gladio. All thoughts of how they are a bit like the Monsters of his home get thrown out the window when he hears Aeon’s wail and feels the emotions that erupt. He knows that reaction, he knows what it means.

-Frisk is not a violent person by nature, but his sole understanding of bonds comes from listening to Gilgamesh force and break one in Aeon over and over and over (Frisk only spared because he is a Sentinel and no bond can be formed between two Sentinels as far as I know?). As far as he knows, a bond is a weapon, a chain meant to break people and this stranger has just attacked Aeon.

-It’s instinct to lash out, to slam down a wall of bones around Aeon while Aeon tries to finish the problem, and it’s a Very Good Thing Cor is as good as he is (and had backup), otherwise Gladio might have gotten seriously hurt.

-Frisk makes no sound as Aeon starts to break and cry, just huddles in a corner and shakes silently. He has to stay calm, he has to stay focused, this is Aeon’s pain, not Frisk’s, so Frisk has no right to cry too. He doesn’t. He has to stay strong. He is the Shield and Aeon is the Sword and Frisk needs to protect.

-But how can he protect against something he cannot touch?

-How can he protect against scars already there?

-Later on, Aeon passes out and Frisk flinches from Cor’s hesitant touch. His skin is burning with sensation, he’s maybe an inch away from a very bad zone-out, but he holds on, because these people are Not Safe and Aeon is unconscious. Aeon needs him. So Frisk huddles by the bed and sets his sightless eyes on the wall and stretches his senses out to keep watch as Cor fidgets and hesitantly asks questions only to give up and leave after Frisk’s prolonged silence.

-It’s only when it’s just him and Aeon, when he knows there’s only one other person nearby (in the next room, with clothes that sound like a uniform and scent that reeks of frustration and rage even though it’s restrained, not Cor, but that glaive who was there when he and Aeon first woke up and needed to find Aeon’s beads), that he lets himself whisper, “I want to go home.”

-There is no answer.

-But he knew that already.

-Frisk buries his face in his knees and focuses on breathing. Things will get better, he tells himself. Things have to get better. Even in the darkest hour in Gilgamesh’s clutches, even back when he was a tiny child and was told that it was Kill or Be Killed, he had hope. The only time he didn’t have hope was when he was on the Genocide Run, and he is never going to slide that far again. He and Aeon will find a way to fix this.

-He just has to stay Determined.

-He just has to stay …

-He just…

-Frisk clutches his knees tight and reels his senses in until he can only sense the room around him, granting himself a vague illusion of privacy as he cries.

(Cheerful Omake since the Angst in this hurt me!)

What if Flowey Was There:

-It’s funny watching his little brother lose a war with a flower.

-Not that he’ll say that.

-“Flowey,” Frisk calls dryly, “Please let him up, Aeon isn’t going to run off and do something stupid without us.”

-Flowey just scowls, trying to look hateful but only coming off as stressed while Aeon squirms, face slowly turning red from being upside down as he wrestles Flowey’s vines, “Oh really? Then why did I find him in that ghost ground with you that I had to break you two out of huh? He wasn’t with you before, so he must have wandered in on his own like an IDIOT- OW.”

-Aeon flips, landing on the ground in a smooth movement, then rocks a little as his blood pressure settles. Flowey curses up a blue streak as his vine regrows. Aeon just sheathes his sword with a sour look, “You’re a plant, not my PARENT. You can’t tell me what to do.”

-“The heck I CAN’T. You’re Frisk’s baby brother, which means you’re MY problem until Frisk decides you’re not worth it! Which is going to be NEVER because Frisk is an ANNOYING EMOTIONAL SAP LIKE THAT.”

-Frisk steps in before another fight can start, “Let’s just track down our mark for that hunt alright? It’ll be easy and simple.”

-It’s perhaps a good thing Frisk can’t see, otherwise he would have died of laughter from how Flowey and Aeon pulled off identical deadpan expressions, “Well now that you’ve SAID that,” Flowey grumps, “we’ll probably have to go rescue a kidnapped prince or something.”

-Frisk can literally hear Aeon roll his eyes, “The only prince around on this continent is safe in Insomnia.”

Four Hours Later:

-Flowey: “I TOLD YO-”

-Aeon and Frisk at the same time while Noctis stares wide-eyed at the talking plant poking out of Frisk’s backpack, “Shut up Flowey.”

#Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #We All Have Battle Scars (Keep Marching On) verse #other people's fanfiction #xover #sparklecryptid #flowey #oc frisk #long post

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calliope-love-corner · 3 years

Text

Extention of the Self

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Oh, no way, the little guys I don't mind at all!" I smile. "They're pretty cute, actually! I mean, I was pretty scared of basically every spider when I was a kid, but the little jumpy dudes have sorta grown on me, yknow?"

Annabelle sits next to me on the park bench, legs crossed to face towards me. She rested one arm on the back of the seat and looked at me as if she were hanging on every word.

"That's certainly encouraging to hear seeing as I am all but literally made of spiders." She joked. I smile.

"That's true, isn't it? In that one statement-" I cut myself off. She raises an eyebrow. "God, maybe I shouldn't say? I dunno, would you find it rude if I repeated what they wrote?"

"Oh, please. It can't be anything I don't already know about myself." She rolled her eyes, which had multiplied to two sets of two since we left the restaurant a half hour ago. Appearances were important, after all, and odd looks and questions sounded like a lot to deal with while you're trying to go on a date.

I shrug. "God, yeah, the guy wrote that he looked in your head while you were passed out and all cracked open and it was just /webs./ no brain or anything."

Annabelle laughed. "Well I suppose that's still half accurate. I sort of ditched all of the important head organs, but it's not just wisps of cobweb up there anymore." She adjusted her hair and tilted her head to the side to show the silvery-white mass that stretched across the hole in her skull. I lean in to look, but can't see much past the thickly woven and almost silken material. I raise my eyebrows curiously.

"Oh christ, don't tell me you have, like, a bunch of fucking spiders living up there now. I dunno if I could handle that."

Annabelle pursed her lips and looked away, an awkward indication that I'd gotten it right. My jaw dropped.

"Something like that, unfortunately."

"That is actually terrifying!!" I exclaim. She laughs.

"That's... sort of the point, dear."

I blink. "Ah. Right."

Annabelle rolls her eyes affectionately.

"So... can I see?" I ask cautiously, feeling a sense of morbid curiosity. She doesn't exactly seem surprised at the request, but takes a moment to think about it to herself first, mulling it over in her head.

"Maybe. Can I try something first?"

"Depends. What did you have in mind?"

"You said you didn't mind jumping spiders..?"

"Not the little ones- too big and the jumping and speed and all that sort of freaks me out."

She pauses to think for a second, biting her thumbnail absentmindedly. "Alright," she finally says. I nearly lean in a little more, curious what she had to say. "Hold out your hand."

"Oh." I feel my stomach lurch. She wants me to hold one. Shit, I think on instinct, because spiders have never ever been my thing. After a second, though, I think about all the times I've successfully coexisted with little jumping spiders before. I think about how when I'm with a group of people and trying to act tough, I always take care of the spider in the corner, scooping it up in a cup and taking it outside no problem. When I'm alone I'm totally scared shitless of bugs, but with other people watching, I can usually muster up the courage to take it in stride. So I do as she asks, cupping my hands out towards her as she looks all over her body for something. I bite the inside of my cheek in anticipation as Annabelle seems to find what she's looking for on the back of her neck, drawing her hand back with a small arachnid perched on her knuckle.

"Here. Are you okay to hold it?" She carries it towards me, and i don't feel afraid. It's just my size, actually, with big eyes and tiny legs.

"Hm? Yeah, let's see him!" I grin, and she lets it scurry onto my hand. Handling the thing is easy- I watch it scuttle quickly over and around my hand, flipping it over and upside-down to keep it in view. It's mesmerizing watching it go. Suddenly, it leaps out of my palm and onto the back of the bench.

"Shit," I say. "Do you- uh- need that back?"

I look up at her for guidance, noticing her hands cupped close as if sheltering something delicate. She chuckles. "No, no. He's from around here- a local, let's say. He'll be fine."

I relax at this, but can't get my eyes off her hands- I don't need her to tell me what it is, another spider, no question. She catches my eyes.

"This one is a touch bigger." Annabelle uncups her hands and shows me a house spider, dusty brown with spindly legs, about the size of a nickel or a quarter, give or take. I back off on instinct.

"Oh, I promise it's not bad at all. The same as the one you just had, practically." She tries to reassure me. I grimace.

"It won't jump, will it...?" I do my best to be polite- this is quite literally Annabelle showing me a very important part of herself.

"No, it won't. It's rather fast, but shouldn't overwhelm you to any degree."

"Will it bite?" I ask a final question, knowing that no matter what the answer is I'm going to end up holding it anyway. I know that she wouldn't give me anything actually dangerous, but- it made me feel /significantly/ better to ask.

"If it does, it's no worse than a mosquito bite."

"Hmm." I bite down on my cheek and offer up my hands. "Okay. Just. Do it quick."

"I promise you'll be just fine." Annabelle assures me, and coaxes it into my hands. It is quite fast, crossing over into my palm in the blink of an eye. I do all I can not to wince and frighten the thing into a defensive position where it might actually try and bite, and after a few seconds, I make some peace with the arachnid. I relax myself a bit, watching it dart over my hands looking very confused. When the initial shock passes, I'm left feeling quite the same as I had with the much littler spider before.

"Go ahead and let that one go too, when you're ready. You're quite a natural at this." She praised me, making me smile. While I lower the spider down to the grass, I can't help but make a crude joke.

"Yeah, I get that from girls a lot."

She kicks at my leg, scolding me. I snicker and look back to her expectantly, seeing her hands once again cupping something hidden.

"...Now, this one is... a significant step up." Annabelle warns, looking a little worried herself. I cringe, fearing the worst.

"What are you about to put in my hands??" I whine, knowing that whatever it is I'm going to say yes no matter what, because Annabelle is very pretty, and I like her very much, and I'd like to seem as competent and cool and tough as possible. She bites her lip and holds her hands out just a bit, keeping them nearer to herself than to me. A brown and vaguely fuzzy looking patterned spider just smaller than her palm sat there, crawling from one of her hands to the other as she moved to catch it with each step. I very quickly go into panic mode, my heart dropping to my stomach in the process.

"Oh! My God! Okay! That is enormous!!" I exclaim, not loud enough to scare it, but loud enough to make it clear that I was not exactly psyched to be doing this. Annabelle looked understanding, worried, and humored all at the same time, but she also had this air about her that made me think she genuinely did want me to try and do this for her own sake. The sucker I am, of course I would, but you'd better believe i was going to put up a fight first.

"It's a common american wolf spider- if it does bite you, it'll get a little irritated and infected likely, but it'll really only be sore for a week or so- i promise it's not bad at all."

"So it's going to bite me??" My eyes go wide. I've seen a wolf spider before many times- several years of working at a summer camp will put a good amount of wildlife in your book, creepy crawlies definitely included.

"Well- probably not. I-" she starts, but my stomach takes a plunge, contorting my face to one of extreme distaste. "I can't know for sure, of course, because these things happen, but it probably won't. He's not temperamental."

I groan and grumble and toss second thoughts back and forth in my head for but a few seconds before tentatively holding my hands out again and squeezing my eyes tight.

"Oh my God. I hate literally everything about this." I say mostly to myself. "Just do it. I won't freak out. I won't freak out. I'm chill. I'm all good, I'm calm." I repeat like a mantra or a manifestation. I think closing my eyes actually did help, because when I started to feel a couple tiny legs slowly crawl into and across my fingertips, I didn't flinch nor squeak nor squirm. I held perfectly still, and it did the same. The moment seem to stretch on for forever.

"Cal...?" Annabelle said.

"Mhm?" I responded with a lightly quivering voice through tight-pursed lips.

"Would you open your eyes?" She asked, hesitating just a bit at the end.

"Do I have to..?" I murmur.

"Of course not."

Silence, for just a few seconds. I take a breath and slowly pop one eye open, looking down at the creature in my hands. While it scurried back and forth in Annabelle's hands, mine were unfamiliar, and it sat unmoving- a small weight in my palm. It was a strange sensation feeling and seeing it there. With one eye safely open and the situation assessed, the other one promptly followed. I blinked myself back into the moment, looking down at my hands, entranced. It felt like the spider and I were in an agreement of sorts- i would be still and predictable and brave, and it would be calm and do me no harm. I was so caught up in the moment that I hadn't even quite registered Annabelle's gentle hands cupped under mine to offer support. I chance a look up at her- she smiles warmly down at the spider, but glances up to meet my gaze.

"You're a natural." She lovingly encourages. I offer a weak smile in response, shrinking shyly away into my coat. Suddenly, the arachnid starts to slowly creep forward.

"Oh, my God, okay, it's moving-" I channel my fear to my voice instead of my body, trying to keep from moving and scaring it. Annabelle moves her hand to catch it as it starts to crawl off of me and redirects it back towards my palms.

"You're doing wonderful." She coos, and I don't entirely believe her. Annabelle guides my right hand with her own for me to catch the spider as it wanders this time, and soon enough, I'm letting it scuttle over each of my hands in turn, keeping it safe and curious and alive. A moment later, she coaxes the spider towards her, and takes it back. I let out a shuddery breath. Annabelle laughs.

"You did great!"

"That was literally awful!"

The spider disappeared out of sight somewhere on her body, and I decide not to think too hard about the implications of that. I start to ramble more about spiders, but she stops me when she takes my hands in hers again with some sort of purpose. I look up to meet her eyes.

"Okay. How are you feeling?" She asks.

"Let's just say adrenaline is a hell of a drug. What now?"

Annabelle laughs, low and genuine. "Well, you said that my head was full of a bunch of spiders?"

"Mostly joking, but yeah. Wait, is it actually??"

"Well, more like... one big spider?"

"Oh, fuck off-" I scoot back. "How big are we talking here??"

She squints one eye and cringes a bit, speaking cautiously.

"Its... quite large, compared to the others."

"Christ. Jesus christ! Okay! Fuck!" I start to panic, but hold my hands out again anyways. "This is going to suck so bad."

She holds my hands, rubbing her thumb comfortingly over my knuckles. "You'll be just fine. I promise you, nothing bad will happen. It's slow, and calm, and quite easygoing. Close you eyes."

"Oh my God! I cannot believe I'm doing this, this is fucking insane!" I ramble in my anxiety, but do as I'm told without question.

"Do you trust me?" She asks.

"Is that a joke?? Absolutely not." I spit out, anticipating the thing of undetermined size crawling over my skin.

"Okay, fair. Do you trust me not to do you any harm right now?"

I pause. Despite my fear, I did trust her that much.

"...yes. I do."

"I promise you'll be alright. Just keep your eyes shut, okay?"

I purse my lips, swallow hard, and nod.

Seconds later, a few hairy legs creep only my fingertips. I suck in my breath and hold it there, heart pounding out of my tightened chest as it slowly finds its footing in my cupped palms. The first thing I realize is just how massive it really is- the creature easily fills my hands and then some, and it's about the weight of a baseball. It feels around up to my wrists, and Annabelle starts to readjust her position supporting my hands.

"Dont you fucking dare let go," I snip at the slightest idea that she would leave me alone in the dark with this thing. She holds me firmly in reassurance.

"I won't. I promise."

"I hope you know how horrifying this is."

"I'm aware."

"I'm pretty sure this is the craziest fucking thing I have literally ever done."

"I'm very proud of you for it."

We sit in silence for a moment, my hands held perfectly still. The giant tarantula crawls off every so often, only to be gently moved or guided back to my palms.

"...if you open your eyes will you panic?" She chances, biting her lip.

"Maybe. Probably not. Will /it/ panic?"

"Not unless you do first."

"I am scared absolutely shitless right now. This is INSANE."

"I know. I know you are."

My eyes slowly flutter open and draw down to the giant velvety black tarantula in my hands. It only takes a second for me to take it all in- probably the size of a small plate at full wingspan, with sharp mandables, a fat abdomen, and huge articulated legs. It was a dark, shiny black all over- the first thing I thought was that it looked like a Halloween decoration more than a living creature. And yet it moved, 8 cautious steps at a time across my palms.

"It's a Brazilian black tarantula, if I'm not mistaken. A bit on the larger side." She explains, gently stroking the creature's back.

"No kidding..." I mutter in response, mostly to myself. I am awe-struck, to say the least.

"Something most people don't quite realize is that the bigger a spider gets, the more fragile it becomes. You've got to be as gentle as possible."

"Are you sure?? Because this thing is built like a fucking TANK." I joke. Coping with humor in high-stress situations is my specialty. Annabelle snickers.

"Lately, I've been calling her Penny. And yes, I'm sure. Even a six-inch drop can kill one. The exoskeleton is quite fragile, especially where the abdomen meets the head."

"Penny..." I repeat to myself. "That's... weirdly cute. Especially for something so creepy."

The spider stopped its wandering, and seemed to sit down, in a way. It looked comfortable, soaking up the warmth from my hands. I let out a little laugh.

"She likes you." Annabelle comments. She looks a bit relieved. My face flushes, even at the absurdity of the moment; It feels very intimate, despite literally everything about it.

"So- this is what lives inside your head."

"Mhm. I have no idea how she survives in there, honestly- she doesn't hunt, I don't feed her, or anything. She's... sort of an extention of me? In a strange way."

"Can you, like, control her or something?"

"Not exactly? It's- how do I put it." Annabelle pauses to think. "It's sort of like what your Michael- or is it Helen now? Is to the spiral."

"I hate to say it but that only makes it a little bit easier to understand."

"Such is the way with most things in this odd world."

The words, though a bit grim, sound sweet on her tongue. I let them roll over in my brain for a few moments.

"Poetic." I comment. She shrugs. "I suppose so." With that, she coaxed the arachnid back into her hands, and I watched her guide it back into the hole in the side of her head. The spider crawled through the delicate mess of web with familiarity, and moments later, it disappeared. As soon as it was out of sight, I give a loud, exhausted sigh.

"I'm impressed. You did quite well!" She praised, putting a comforting hand on my leg.

"If you ever let that fucking thing out in my apartment I swear to God I will never speak to you again."

She laughs. "Understood."

"Good."

We sit in silence for a moment as I decompress. The adrenaline rush that came with handling unfamiliar creatures had almost faded, and my body felt heavy. Contrasting my physical exhaustion, my brain was lighting up with excitement. I felt very close to her right now- closer to Annabelle than I ever have. The fact that she even /wanted/ me to see the spiders made me feel... important, in a way. She had guided me through the experience all of her own accord. It made me really feel like she wanted me to know her- to REALLY know her- to a degree i couldn't even comprehend. I know what she is, and I know what she does, and right now, I am not afraid.

"Shall we, then?" Annabelle pulls me out of my thoughts. It had gotten pretty dark without me even really noticing, the sun having disappeared below the horizon, and a few dim stars taking their place in the twilight sky.

"Oh. Yeah, let's."

We stand up. She takes my arm in a very old-fashioned style and we stroll out of the quiet park and into the well-lit and busy night streets. Part of me wants to offer to walk her home, but another part knows that she likely doesn't really have a home to go to. Even if she did, I had a sinking feeling that it wasn't something she quite wanted me to see just now. So, we walked comfortably a few blocks through the city before parting ways at the front door to my building.

Annabelle gave me a quick peck on the cheek, said that she had had fun, and moments later, she was gone- disappeared as quickly and strangely as she always did. The kid in me pictured her slinging up and away on a web like Spiderman, but the realist knew she probably had some weird fear avatar powers that she used to make a dramatic entrance or exit. Once she had gone, I sighed and turned in for the night, a blushing mess.

#a little creative touch #selfship #all part of the master plan 🕷💐🕸#fictional other #f/o #selfshipping #tma selfship #selfship writing #spiders #spiders tw #spiders cw

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ooops-i-arted · 4 years

Note

here’s an idea: the “I missed you so much!” Sentence started but it’s Din and Boga Jr when Din thinks they aren’t being watched

Din angled the Razor Crest further downward, carefully aiming for the makeshift landing pad that had been made just outside the village. He could already see the kids swarming, little green specks on the landscape spilling out of the house to greet him. And of course right behind them was their newest acquisition, the gangly young varactyl’s bright yellow and rusty red feathers easily visible even from this distance.

Din sighed. She - named Boga Jr. by the kids for absolutely no reason he’d been able to decipher - was the reason he’d had to take another job so soon after the last one, now that he had yet another eager mouth to feed. He hadn’t thought one young animal could eat so much when he gave in to the kids’ begging and rescued her from that shut-down zoo, but Boga Jr. was practically a bottomless pit.

And that wasn’t even getting into all the work a new pet took, because of course the kids couldn’t really manage her, being so much smaller than her. Din was the one who had to feed her, water her, train her, make sure she was walked, take her outside to shit, and probably more tasks that would pile up until he found somewhere new to rehome her.

He landed the Razor Crest, watching carefully for stragglers, but by now the kids were very good about staying safely away from the ship and clustering around one of their caretakers instead. Kuiil was holding the rambunctious varactyl by her harness; IG-11 and Winta were herding the kids. Din hurried through the shutdown sequence and all but ran down to the exit ramp.

A deafening cry of “DAD!” greeted him as the ramp lowered; the green mass ahead barely waited for the ramp to lower completely before swarming up. Din knelt to greet them all, scooping them up for hugs by the armful, knowing they would be able to sense his huge smile even if they couldn’t see it. This was always the best part of a job: coming home and being welcomed back.

The kids were full of information, telling him about every scrape and adventure and incident that had happened over the last three days he’d been gone, the cacophony more than even his helmet’s audio filters could handle. His eldest firmly lodged himself in the crook of Din’s elbow while several climbed his shoulders and back and legs, the beskar protecting him from most of the claws. By now even the littlest babies were crawling up to him, carefully shadowed by Winta, cooing and trying to pull themselves up his boots.

“I missed you all so much,” Din finally said when most of them paused to catch a breath.

He got dozens of “we missed you too!”s in return, along with several pleads not to leave again and to play and to come look at various art pieces, block structures, and mud pies. Din frowned in irritation as Boga Jr. kept squawking louder and louder, straining so hard at her harness she was almost pulling Kuiil over and making it harder to hear his sons.

“It is sunset,” intoned IG-11. “This is the children’s designated bedtime.”

Din waited for the kids’ loud collective groan to pass before saying, “Yes, it is.”

“I don’t want to go to bed,” grumped Yod’ika, pressing his face into Din’s chest. “I want to play with you.”

The others echoed their eldest brother. Din hugged all the ones he was holding and tried to give head pats to everyone else in range. “I’ll be here tomorrow. We can play all day then.”

“Aww,” said the kids, turning their big brown eyes on him.

“Tomorrow,” said Din firmly before their adorable expressions could work their magic on him.

Before he could start herding them to the house, there was a loud squawk and Boga Jr. finally broke free from Kuiil, bounding right up to Din.

Din cursed, snatching the babies up before her feet could crush them and jerking away as the feathered face stuck right in his helmet. The long tail thrashed, nearly getting one of the littler ones, who laughed and toddled away, unconcerned by how close to injury he’d come. “Down,” Din snapped, trying to stand up. Boga Jr. jumped at him, aiming for his chest where several of the children were cradled. “Down,” Din ordered.

“Here, girl,” called Kuiil, and the varactyl bounded back over to Kuiil without trampling any of the children and accepted him reattaching the harness. “Apologies, but she is strong,” said Kuiil, stroking some of the head feathers that gleamed ruby in the slanting sunlight. “She will not hurt the little ones, though. You needn’t fear.”

“Boga Jr. is nice, Daddy,” chirped Yod’ika 22 from somewhere around his foot.

“Papa, I don’t want to go to bed,” whined Yod’ika 17, squirming out of Din’s arm and dropping before Din could catch him. He landed easily like the kids usually did, but it still worried Din every time. “Can’t we play just five more minutes?”

He really wanted to be the nice one and say yes. But Omera had always said a consistent bedtime is for the best, and by now Din had seen evidence of that himself. So he simply answered, “We will play tomorrow.”

Yod’ika 17 scowled, then said “No!” and bolted.

Din sighed as the kids broke out in cheers as Yod’ika 17 evaded IG-11 and Winta, giggling madly. Din debated joining the chase. He knew it was done to gain his attention, and if he did give in he’d have to set down all the ones in his arms and draped over his shoulders, and then they’d run…

Before he could make a decision, Boga Jr. squirmed out of Kuiil’s grasp and bolted after the wayward Yod’ika 17, rapidly bearing down on him, jaws opened wide.

Din had seen those jaws snap a thick tree branch in half and now they were after his son and he couldn’t put all the other kids down in time to get his blaster and -

But the thought wasn’t even finished before Boga Jr. delicately picked up Yod’ika 17 by the neck of his shirt, the little one giggling madly as Boga Jr. calmly trotted over and delivered the boy right to Din’s feet. Her tail thrashed back and forth happily and Din could almost swear she was grinning at him.

“Good job, Boga Jr.,” said several of the kids, patting her feathers and laughing as she headbutted them, always gently enough to make sure they didn’t so much as stumble.

“The varactyl has proved useful in herding the children,” said IG-11.

“She likes them,” said Winta, scratching Boga Jr.’s head feathers and laughing as the tail gently knocked against her legs. “And she likes to chase them.”

“Let’s go home, Boga Jr.,” said Yod’ika 17, climbing on the varactyl’s back. Several of his brothers joined him, and Boga Jr. waited patiently until they were on board before rocketing over to the house, the children laughing wildly and Din reminding himself that that feeling in his chest wasn’t actually a heart attack.

---

Winta was sent off to her own home after helping all the children get inside and Kuiil went off to tend his blurrgs, leaving Din and IG-11 to handle putting 101 children to bed. By now Din had the process down to a science, and he was glad to fall back into the easy rhythm of wiping away the day’s grime, putting on nightclothes, changing a diaper or herding them to one of the child potties, and then tucking them into the wall of beds or one of the cribs.

Of course it was complicated by the newest resident. Boga Jr. wanted to help lick the kids clean and physically carry them to and from the bathroom when she wasn’t trying to snatch pajamas out of Din’s hand. And of course all the mischief riled up the kids tenfold, when bedtime was already always more difficult when Din returned, with every child determined to wring every scrap of attention out of him they could.

But finally everyone was safely tucked in with a favorite toy and IG-11 headed back to Kuiil’s residence. Din read a book to all of them - shorter than usual because they were running late, but still long enough to ensure there were yawns and drooping eyes by the time he was done - and then one final good night for everyone. Boga Jr. stayed at his heels the entire time, yapping additions to the book until Din shushed her, and weaving in and out of the babies’ cribs as if determined to check their integrity. Din held his breath, but her clunking into them didn’t wake anyone up, even finicky Ika’ika.

Finally it was his own turn to get ready for bed, the process slowed by the varactyl who still insisted on following him, huffing and squawking softly at him no matter how many times he tried to get her to keep quiet.

“Don’t you have a place to sleep yet?” Din asked grumpily in between brushing his teeth. Boga Jr. only stood up against the sink stand and made faces at herself in the mirror. Din made a mental note to ask Kuiil to finish that pet enclosure he’d asked for as soon as possible.

She padded ahead of him as he went to his own room, sleep dragging at his eyelids, and it wasn’t until he’d gotten half his armor off and on its stand that he finally noticed where the varactyl had set herself.

Boga Jr. was in his bed, the sheets and comforter now a twisted mess and the pillows scattered to the floor. When she saw him looking she squalled happily, her tail whipping back and forth and knocking the last pillow down.

“Get down,” Din said irritably. Hadn’t he told everyone before he left he didn’t want the animal on the furniture? Dammit, he was going to have a talk with Cara; he usually tolerated her ignoring his rules for the kids because she still kept the kids safe and her antics made them happy, but this was too much. “Down,” he repeated, and the varactyl jumped down and coiled around his feet instead, rubbing her feathered head against his shins. Din grumbled, planting his feet so he wouldn’t be knocked over. Even as a juvenile, Boga Jr. was about as long as he was tall, and plenty strong.

Din ignored her, getting the rest of the armor off and exchanging his jumpsuit for the loose shirt and pants he slept in. He set his helmet on his nightstand before stepping back into the house, convinced that there had to be some other suitable place for the pet to sleep. The nightlight was the only illumination, and the kids were making those cute soft baby snores that meant they were asleep, so he tiptoed through the rest of the house trying to find some corner where he could stick the varactyl until morning without her waking up the kids.

As if summoned by the thought, there was a rapid and not-very-quiet patter of feet and Boga Jr. came bounding after him, her squawking muffled but still plenty audible. “Shh!” hissed Din, afraid she would undo all his hard work at bedtime, but she ignored him, skidding to a halt at his feet and squawking again, tail thumping against the floor. Din tried to scoot away from her, but she followed him, finally leaping up and placing her oversized paws on his chest, and he finally saw what was muffling her noises. She had his damn helmet in her beak.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, taking it and praying she hadn’t dented it. She squawked happily, then bounded off to his room, knocking into one of the cribs on her way.

Din cursed, hurrying over in time to see the three infants in it start to squirm and mewl. “Shh, shh,” Din whispered, gently rocking Yod’ika 97, Yod’ika 98, and Yod’ika 99 with his hands. The first two settled immediately, but Yod’ika 99 fussed and whimpered until Din picked him up, bouncing him a little until he finally settled and Din could set him back in the crib.

“Dad?” mumbled a sleepy voice from across the room.

Din hurried over to soothe his eldest back into sleep; anytime Yod’ika realized he had Din all to himself again, he was liable to stretch the time out by any means necessary. “It was just Boga Jr. running around, ad’ika,” he said, patting the little head. “Go back to sleep.”

“But she’s supposed to be sleeping,” said Yod’ika fretfully. “You aren’t making her go outside with no house, are you Dad?”

“No, of course not,” Din said. The kids had been very adamant that Boga Jr. needed shelter and Din was pretty sure he would’ve found himself on the wrong end of a magic hand if he’d tried to argue. “Where has she been sleeping?”

“In your room, Dad,” said Yod’ika with a huge yawn. “She likes your bed.”

Dammit. Someone had let her get on the furniture. Din patted Yod’ika a few times until he rolled over and went back to sleep, then trudged back to his own room to find Boga Jr. waiting for him. The second he walked inside her head shot up and her tail happily thumped on the bedclothes. The pillows had all been dragged back on the bed, the beak-shaped marks in them eliminating any question of who had put them there. Din sighed, but supposed the bedding was due for a wash anyway.

Boga Jr. squawked happily at him, leaping up and circling on top of the bed, twisting the covers with her and rearranging the pillows. But instead of plopping in the middle, she scooted off to the side and stared at him expectantly.

Stars, what the hell did she want now? Din just wanted to go to sleep…

Impatiently, the varactyl leapt up and hurried over to him, catching his pant leg in her oversized and very sharp beak. Din jumped, but she only tugged insistently until he followed her over to the bed, where she jumped up again and chirruped encouragingly, knocking her head against his arm and trying to urge him into the bed.

Suddenly it hit Din. A nest. She’d made him a damn nest.

Din crawled into bed, trying to not completely destroy Boga Jr.’s handiwork while pulling the blankets over himself. Immediately two pillows were dropped on his head, accompanied by a quiet chirr, and then the whole damn varactyl flopped down on top of him, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Boga Jr. didn’t seem to notice, just nudging his arm aside until she could stick her beak in the crook of his elbow, one of the kids’ favorite places to nestle given half a chance. Her tail flapped back and forth a few times, and then she started making a low, rumbling purr, rubbing her face against Din’s side.

Without thinking, Din started scratching at her head feathers, earning a contented chirr. “You missed me, huh?” he asked.

Boga Jr. gave him a distinctly happy chirrup and rubbed her face against him some more.

Well, maybe one night in his bed wouldn’t hurt. Especially since it seemed like she really did like the kids, and she really didn’t have anywhere else to sleep anyway, and she really wasn’t that bad, he thought. “I missed you too,” Din told her.

#this ended up much longer than i intended but it was too much fun #din you big softie #the mandalorian #101 yoditos au #boga jr #fic #asks #thehollyraven

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atendersun-archived · 3 years

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“You’re really cute…when you let yourself talk about things you love.” Absent-mindedly Sullivan complimented him, leaning on his hand. Happily he has been listening to a passionate rant of information. Every little rabbit hole Muus brain brought to him, all the fun stories. It was really nice. To get to hear the real him. “I hope we can talk about things you like again. So I can see you that happy more often.”

Besides him rested numerous plastic containers with barriers that many used to store fishing lures in. His on he other hand were labeled with different initials and numbers that marked his uniquely thought out storing system. Inside many of them were a variety of miniature items made from materials such as polymer clay, felt, shrinkable plastic, and wood. Resting on his lap as he spoke freely on his most recent passion was a notebook that he had been doodling out ideas for additional items to be made later on.

Words also appeared to be etched in between sketches with great significance yet he managed to multitask in conversation so swiftly that none of them parted through his lips as he went on with his attempt at describing to the other what it was that he aimed to do with all of us uniquely made miniatures. Amongst the growing list of adjectives was the term 'passionate', which he would later find a tad bit of humor in due to the fact that he would then begin to speak openly about what he aimed to do with an idea that had only just recently popped into his head earlier in the week.

"Sully", he began, "Do you know what a diorama is? That is kind of like what I am making, but they are going to be more like how I think the inside of a Poké Ball, or a Polly Pocket shell would be."

How exactly he wanted to approach that idea was still being determined in his drawings. He hadn't yet decided if he wanted to store his ideas inside something as simply as a tiny house, or to up the difficulty by trying put his hand at making something akin to the inside of the brain instead. If he was willing to really do his research, and figure out how to even begin adding it in, he'd have pushed it even further by including in some sort of musical trait into it as if they were very unusual music boxes.

"I've been feeling very out of touch with myself. That's why.. I am making these little houses, I guess, for the parts of me that stand out the most. That way they have places to be that are not only of their own, but also that are safe to be in as well. That way I can kind only just focus on the parts of me that are here right now instead of feeling all of the feelings of all of me's at the same time."

Showing seemed easier than risking confusion with his long string of words, so he ceased moving the pen across paper long enough for him to switch out the pad entirely for the most filled of all of the bins with the marking of the number sixteen across the top. That had been the first one he wanted to work on out of reluctancy to really even begin thinking about what he would've used to describe himself during other core moments in his life, but also because he had been really weighed down the most by pings of jealousy and resentment that he knew were stirring from the loneliness and guilt that blossomed into fruition as a teenager.

"These one's are all the things that I see when I think of me at sixteen. This one is an itty bitty version of Aime Jr. Aime was my best friend that moved away to France, but b- before that, he gived me a hedgehog that I named after him. Once I even had a real hedgehog that I named Baby Aime, but I'll probably save him for later 'cause I got him when I was older. I still have him, by the way. The stuffed animal that is. He's very beat up looking from having gone to lots of things with me before I kind of out grew bringing him along, but.. I do still like to think back on when I still had Aime around all those many years ago."

From there, he very excitedly hopped from one item to another; explaining each one's individual meaning before immediately following it up with another. In his chatter, he went on to describe making miniature versions of the favorite books he used to beg his older brother to read to him since they always seemed to be easier to understand when he heard them in a voice other than his own. Or how he simply just did so to not so secretly trick his sibling into sharing the bed with him long enough for him to drift off to sleep with him at his side instead of alone.

Also happily presented were tiny versions of some standard looking Valentine's Day cards and some even tinier stickers he designed and cut out using an x-acto blade. Both were heavily enjoyed by him during that time in his life since he held such largely positive feelings towards things that were either cute, or were associated with love in any way. His dream back then had always been to experience a fairytale love like he watched in movies, or heard about in songs by Taylor Swift songs, as he knew that his chances of that were not necessarily as high as they may have been if not for his perceived sensitivity and slowness.

And while he was still somewhat still shifting through the hurt of his plan to make that kind of dream come true didn't work out as intended, that was not the only reason he purposely chose to keep his focus on making items he associated with himself instead of himself in association with the person he was dating at the time in his life. His decision to do so had not been made out of a lack of love for that individual, but rather because he wanted to keep the home he was making for the boy he once was be one crafted from as much self love as he possibly could have.

"There's still lots of other things I could maybe make to go into the home for the Muu that was the littlest, I guess. Like if I made things relevant to dating for the first time, since th- that was a very core thing for me when I was only sixteen. I don't.. really want to though, because I feel.. like that is where a lot of the guilt of being me comes from to begin with, an- and I don't want to stick him into the house for him right back into those feelings all over again. Of not.. loving in the right way, or of making things harder than they needed to be even if maybe I didn't mean for it to be that way. I'm.. making these little houses, or whatever they're gonna be, so these littler versions of me get to be tucked away into spots of healing. That's why I- I am maybe making all of these things, but not even use all of 'em, because I want to make sure the space is happy for them. I don't.. want them to cry because something doesn't feel safe."

Even in the seriousness of his words, he never strayed away from wanting to ramble on more regarding the thoughtfulness behind his intentions. What he was working on was obviously of great importance to him. Even more than that, he seemed to have been so caught up in his own motivation that he'd failed to even really notice how expressive his body language and facial features became when he shared on about even just the smallest of things that brought life into him at such a young, impressionable age.

Or at least he hadn't until receiving the compliment offered by the other male. Out of what seemed to be embarrassment, the blond instinctively pulled a hand away from sorting through his miscellaneous items to pull the fabric of his shirt up to protectively cover the lower half of his face. In reality, however, he was more so hiding away the surprisingly boyish grin that silenced his moving lips. As well as the growing shade of pink that existed around the nose that sat above them. He was still very much getting used to being spoken to as if his company was desired rather than being hypervigilant of the backhandedness that came from people spending time with him out of obligation or manipulation rather than genuine companionship. Unlike in the many months prior, though, he at least found himself really enjoying the affirming words of endearment offered by the raven.

"Oh, thank you.. I'm not very good at talking about myself a lot of the time. Or of even just.. knowing myself, but you.. you know, th- that is something we can at least, kind of.. learn together maybe?"

#sully i am sorry but you broke the man #also rip the dash for this #tw long post #tximidity

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sevendevilsandholywater · 3 years

Text

After the war and the supposed peace with the dragons, I traveled with the scions to be closer to Itami. No waiting around fretting for his safety like Fray has to do. He also has an unofficial duty to the children to keep them safe; easier now cause he’s got Itami’s house to keep them out of the cold with. I asked how he could afford that but he just shrugged and gave my shoulder a pat. I’m more concerned with tryna set him and Fray up; it’s obvious there’s something there. Estinien sees it too but his concern is us and what we have going on. What we have is a man that uses one night stands religiously and I’m the fool that always wants more. What do we have? We’ve had fights over them and he foolishly shouted at me once is it his fault alcohol is the only way to get me to open up? I do shut him out a lot from my personal feelings. Maybe I should change that.

I’m getting sick of waking up and not knowing what I did the night before. I started getting outta bed but apparently he was awake enough to notice cause he stopped me. “No more leaving before I wake. It’s cold out there, warm back up. The kids are still sleeping in the other room.”

“I’ve never slept in a day in my life Estinien. I don’t know how I’d start now. And are you really gonna lecture me on sleep?” Well you start by closing your eyes, very funny mister. But I humored him anyways and was met with a kiss. Wholly unexpected but I took it. Most people will say time stops when they kiss but for me it seems to fly by when I’m with Estinien. Eventually I got tired from kissing and nodded off in his arms. I’ll have to work extra hard to cover lost hours then.

Fray

Me and Itami did a lot of talking whenever he gets a spare second about our relationship and we’ve decided yes we have a solid flame to be kindled here. And that was that. We’re dating now. I heard nova is having a hard time with Estinien and I wish them luck.

“Where do you go?” Hm? Go? Where? Are you leaving so soon, you just got here this morning. “When you space out like that where do you go?” He twirled some of my hair around his fingers while I was without an answer. I don’t.....go anywhere. I think? “And you’re off again. Can I come with you?” He was wide awake and sitting up crossed legged but I was laying and feeling exhausted. “Know what? I think someone needs a nap. C’mon I’ll still be here when you wake. They’ll have to pry you from my cold dead hands.” Itami bundled me in my blanket then carried me to the egg chair in the room. I’ve seen him do this a million times with the littler children.

“Gonna rock me to sleep are you? I suppose I can live with this. Just once.” Said he’s found Nova a few times catching zzz’s in this chair. I’ll not deny rocking is a soothing motion but I don’t think I’ll be put down so easily. On the other hand Itami is out like a light.... he’s such a terribly light sleeper though. I kept it rocking so he’d stay asleep. The world can hold itself together for a few hours for its hero to sleep. I heard movement in the room over so they must be awake again, probably Estinien finally coming out to get something. These lazy days are nice. I held his hand, pressed it against my face and just enjoyed his presence, his warmth next to me. It’s reassuring. For this small hour all is right in the world.

#ffixv #fray myste #ffxiv estinien

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delimeful · 5 years

Text

the shapes in the silence (7)

warnings: panic, fear, general asshat-ness, cursing, injury

Chapter 7

Patton covered his mouth with his hands, stunned for a moment. Virgil was reminded of the first time he’d run into the moral side at this size; was this just how Patton reacted to all small and cute things?

He clicked at Patton, reminding him to breath, and then leaned forwards a little protectively as he burst into a flurry of questions.

“Roman? Oh my goodness, what happened to you? Are you alright?”

Roman waved his hands to stop his questions. “Woah, Patton, I’m fine. Just a little… littler.”

Virgil snorted, and Roman side eyed him. “In fact, Puff is the one you should be worried about. He has a scratch along his side.”

Patton turned his concerned dad gaze onto Virgil, and he squinted at Roman, betrayed. Snitch!

“Oh no! We’ll get that fixed up right away, little buddy!”

“What’s going on?” A voice from a few paces back made everyone but Patton jump. Virgil tilted his head back to look at Logan, who only took a moment to spot the tiny anomaly among the group.

“Roman? Is that truly you? How-” Seemingly lost in thought, he knelt next to Patton on the stairs and reached out to wrap his hand around the small side.

Virgil took half a second to process the way Roman’s smile fractured, his hands lifting as though to ward Logan off, and without any further thought, he lunged forwards, teeth snapping shut an inch from the logical side’s fingertips. Logan yanked his hand back with a startled “Ah!”

“Puff!” Patton scolded, and he flattened his wings to make himself a smaller target but refused to move from his new position standing protectively above Roman. Just in case that wasn’t clear enough, he growled softly at Logan. No grabbing. Disallowed.

“Woah, Puff, it’s- it’s okay-” Roman tried, and Virgil snorted. He knew firsthand that being grabbed was not fun, and since it was pretty much his fault Roman was stuck like this in the first place, he wasn’t leaving him alone that easy.

“It’s alright, I don’t believe his intent was to injure me. My apologies, Puff.” Logan cut in, hands carefully at his sides. “I was merely surprised, and acted thoughtlessly.”

Virgil settled back a little at the reassurance, ignoring the shock that came with being apologized to, genuinely, twice in one day.

“Okay, well, before we can sort out all of this, we’ve got to handle that injury!” Patton interjected, reminding them of the task at hand.

“Of course. I will go retrieve the first aid kit.” Logan stood up, and Patton offered his hands to Virgil. He looked down at Roman for a moment, and once he got a nod, climbed up to sit in the crook of Patton’s arm.

“Um… Do you want a lift, kiddo?” Patton hesitated before setting his hand down on the stair Roman was on. The tiny side stared at it for a long moment before looking up at Virgil and seeming to gather himself. He stepped onto Patton’s hand, and then settled himself into the center of it, before giving them a hearty thumbs up.

Patton grinned and stood, lifting the other two carefully up with him, before walking over to the couch and setting them down on the small table in front of it. Roman stumbled slightly as he slid off the side of Patton’s palm, and Virgil hopped down to sit next to him.

“There we go!”

“I have the kit.” Logan announced, descending the stairs to set it down on the table next to them. “What sort of injury are we dealing with?”

“It’s a cut.” Roman informed him, already more at ease despite his size. Virgil was impressed. It’d taken him a lot longer to adapt fully. “Shallow, but long.”

“Antiseptic, stat.”

Patton, now wearing a nurse’s cap, handed him a little canister, and Virgil settled down onto his haunches for treatment, sighing. Honestly, it wasn’t that bad, easily ignored.

...Still, it was nice that they cared.

One dramatic session of nursemaid later, Virgil’s side was carefully padded with gauze and taped over, which left them finally free to discuss the matter of Roman’s predicament. Roman himself had taken to standing on top of a tissue box to be taller, which everyone graciously didn’t comment on.

“The curse shouldn’t have lasted this long. It has to be something beyond the Dragon Witch that is interfering with my size now.” Roman hummed. “The Dark Sides, maybe?”

Virgil flicked an ear, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Logan seemed to agree that it was unlikely, raising an eyebrow before scribbling something in the notebook he’d been writing Roman’s rather dramatized account in. He stood, drawing everyone’s attention.

“While I have a few hypotheses, I believe it would be most useful for me to look into this matter further. I will return to my room to continue researching, so please inform me if things change.”

“Alright, seeya Lo!” Patton waved, and looked to the other two. “What do you two say to a movie marathon in the meantime?” He offered brightly. “Relaxing might do you some good!”

“That… does sound nice- woah!” Roman admitted, and Virgil grabbed his shirt before jumping to the couch and settling into the cushion next to Patton. “Yeesh, warn a guy!”

Virgil stuck his tongue out, curling up and facing the TV as Patton put in one of Roman’s many Disney movies. He glanced briefly down as Roman sat himself right against him, where he’d been before in the cave, and managed to not snort. Anxiety, feared Dark Side. Demoted to chair.

He draped his wing over him as a blanket anyways.

Patton left them after the third movie, yawning and whispering confidentially to Virgil that he would be up to make pancakes in the morning. By the fourth, they were both barely conscious. Virgil snapped awake a couple of times after almost losing track of Roman’s form because of the bracelet. Eventually, figuring the creative side didn’t really have to worry about Anxiety when he was busy using him as a beanbag, he carefully pulled the band off Roman’s wrist, tucking it under his other wing. Roman’s only reaction was to mumble something ridiculous in his sleep.

By the fifth movie, they were both out like rocks.

When Virgil woke up, the menu music for Hercules was playing on loop, and Roman was back to his normal size. More concerningly, so was Virgil.

He instinctively pulled on the feeling of utter panic, trying to grasp his other form, but nothing happened. What the hell?

Roman shifted, and he held his breath until the faint crease in the other side’s brow faded. Somehow, they’d ended up sprawled across the whole couch, with half of Roman slouched on top of him. He grit his teeth. Of course.

Okay, okay. He just had to carefully maneuver his way out of this mess. Roman was a heavy sleeper, right?

He carefully began shifting his body off the couch inch by inch, slowly untangling their legs and prying Roman’s hand off his hoodie. There were a couple of close calls where Roman would sleepily shift over to try and regain the meager warmth Virgil must have been providing, but eventually he managed to slide to the floor.

Finally. He stood up, ignoring the twinges in his joints, and shoved his hands in his pockets, immediately finding a small charm bracelet in them. He looked at Roman for a long moment, considering. If he was small, and wearing that bracelet while Virgil was around… he shivered. He could accidentally crush him! The bracelet would stay with him for now.

Mind made up, he padded over to the TV to turn off the slightly grating menu music. As the screen went black, something pulled painfully on his side, and he pulled his hoodie up slightly to see a familiar bandage stretched over his side. Huh.

Well, he could always peel it off once he was safely back in his room-

“Puff?”

Virgil jumped into the air like a startled cat, landing about three feet away from the couch and TV. “JEEzus, Princey!”

Roman frowned sleepily from where he had sat up on the couch. “... Anxiety? What?”

Shit. Excuse time. “You have to get through here to get to the kitchen.” He blurted. Roman stared at him blankly, and he scowled. “Yeah, newsflash, idiot. I live here, too.”

Roman’s frown deepened, and he looked down at himself, probably remembering that he’d been way smaller last time he’d been conscious, and Virgil stalked around the couch to get to the kitchen, a bit irritated he hadn’t thought of a better excuse to get the hell out of here.

“Halt!” Roman called, and Virgil groaned internally at the return of his trademark Prince voice.

He turned. “What.”

Roman was twisted around to face him over the back of the couch, and his expression wasn’t promising. “Where’s Puff?”

Virgil stared at him with an eyebrow raised, hoping to convey his level of unimpressed. “Who, your lizard? It’s not my job to keep track of him.”

“He was just here, why would he leave? You are acting incredibly shady; Turn your pockets out!”

Virgil rolled his eyes, tugging his hands out of his hoodie to display how very empty it was, apart from the tiny bracelet which he carefully did not share. “You think I smuggled him out of your grasp like a piece of candy? Honestly, I couldn't care less about whatever new pet you clueless idiots have gotten yourself.”

He turned to leave, and Roman shouted. “Hey! I’m not finished with you, villain!”

Virgil felt his temper flare, and he shot a glower over his shoulder. “Yeah, well, I’m finished with you, asshole. Your lizard probably got sick of you too.” He lied through his teeth.

Roman reeled back for a moment, and then a blink later, vanished from sight. Virgil froze in disbelief, hearing a small ‘oof’ as a no doubt shrunken Roman landed on the couch, out of sight. He’d- Did he just make Roman shrink again?

For a long moment, there was a stretch of silence, and Virgil realized that with how Roman had reacted to the others, Anxiety was the last person he wanted to see at this side. He just had to go to the kitchen, get out, and come back as Puff ASAP.

He sighed loudly. “Sinking out of an argument, real mature.”

There was a tiny exhale of relief from the couch, barely perceptible.

Careful not to step too loudly, Virgil walked into the kitchen, hurrying to rifle through the cabinets and grab something. As long as Roman stayed put long enough for him to get out of sight-

A tiny cry of pain from the living room derailed his thoughts entirely. He dropped his poptarts, scrambling back out into the living room. “Roman?!”

There was no response, which was not reassuring at all. He speedwalked over to the couch, watching the floor under his feet carefully. He spotted Roman instantly.

The small side was half-limping under the couch like his life depended on it. He didn’t want to scare the smaller side, but… Letting him crawl around on the floor where anyone could step on him? Uh, no.

Virgil knelt down, setting his hand in front of the gap under the couch to stop his progress. “Roman? What the hell happened to you?”

Roman tumbled back, and made a squeak of pain as he put weight on his ankle. Virgil winced, moving to try and offer him support, but Roman immediately started scooting himself back.

“No! Don’t touch me!” He yelled, his voice cracking angrily. Virgil stopped dead, before slowly leaning back.

“Yikes, okay. Look, not touching. Did you fuck up your ankle?”

“What do you care?” Roman spat, still watching his hands with a keen gaze. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Gonna take that as a yes. Look, I’m pretty sure there’s a first aid kit in the kitchen. You gonna let me pick you up or what?”

Roman eyed him with the suspicion and alarm of a cat next to a cucumber. “I think not. I can make it there perfectly fine on my own.”

Virgil stared at him, and then leaned back. “Yeah, okay. Go ahead.”

“You can leave.”

He inspected his nails. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

Roman sighed, aggrieved, and started walking across the plush carpet.

He got exactly five steps before his good foot tangled in the threads and he ate dirt. Virgil counted.

“That looked painful.” He commented offhandedly.

“You look painful.” Roman growled, and slowly got back to his feet. Virgil sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Would it help if I got one of the others, or something-“

“No!” Roman scowled up at him. “I’ve bothered them enough.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you don’t care about bothering me?”

“Of course not. You bother Thomas.” Roman said, very matter-of-fact.

“Succinct.” Virgil muttered, and set his hand down next to Roman again. “Then hurry up and bother me, already. Or are you chicken?”

Roman shot him a dirty look, but the insult seemed to put him more at ease. He stared at Virgil’s hand for a heartbeat longer, and then climbed on with stilted motions.

“Fine. Get me to the counter, then, Emo Nightmare.”

Virgil snorted, lifting his hand slowly to his chest before standing. “Who am I, your chauffeur?”

“Don’t fret, I tip very well.” Roman bantered back absently, staring down at the floor below with worry. Virgil wished he’d thought to put his other hand up as an extra safety measure, but with his luck, Roman would think he was trying to trap him.

“In what, bad nicknames? I’ll pass.” Virgil set his hand down on the counter. “You get this one pro bono.”

Roman scrambled off his hand, and immediately backed up several steps, probably eyeing a sugar jar as a potential hiding spot. Virgil ignored him, pulling open the cabinet he’d seen Logan place the first aid kit in and setting it down on the counter. He frowned, considering, before pulling a piece of ice from the freezer and setting it in front of Roman.

“That’ll help with swelling, I think.” He scoured his memory for the few lectures Thomas had gotten on basic first aid. Roman stared at him, and he raised an eyebrow, irritated. “What, too cold for Your Royal Highness?”

He snaps out of it, making a face at Virgil before carefully lowering himself into a sit, setting his ankle against the ice.

Virgil pulled out his phone, taking note of the time. The creative side had shown himself willing to throw himself off high furniture, so he couldn’t leave until he was at least treated. He could just ignore Roman while the swelling went down and that would make him less nervous, right?

“Why… are you doing this?” Roman asked, peering up at him.

Or he could engage in a conversation with the side who hated him the most. Sure. Why not.

“What, you want me to stick you in a jar or something?”

“No!” Roman retorted sharply, before taking a deep breath and continuing. “I simply... don’t understand why you aren’t taking the opportunity to have your petty vengeance when I am clearly in such a sorry state. You must admit, it’s out of character.”

Virgil rolled his eyes hard enough to increase his growing headache. Ow. “What do you know about my character? I keep Thomas safe, and last time I checked,” he poked Roman gently in the chest, “you’re part of Thomas.”

Roman batted the finger away, looking unconvinced.

Virgil sighed, and put his phone away before leaning his head back, his elbows on the counter supporting him. “Do you even know how hard my job would get if you had to go sleep off a broken ankle for a week? Thomas would struggle to come up with anything creative for a new video, and then we’d lose all his fans because he took too long, and then we’d have no money and have to go live out on the streets where anyone can just walk up and stab you!” He shuddered. “Yeah, no thank you.”

“Wh- but you always shoot down my ideas!” Roman spluttered.

“Only the stupid ones. You always come up with something better, don’t you?” Virgil thought his explanation was fairly obvious, but Roman was staring at him, mouth open.

His shoulders rose up defensively. “What?” He snapped. “I make your job harder, you make mine harder, but-” I don’t want you hurt. “-you’re necessary to Thomas. Obviously.”

There was a dramatic flash, and when he blinked the afterimage away, Roman was sitting on the counter full-sized, looking as surprised as Virgil.

They blinked at each other for a moment, and the relief he felt- he hadn’t fucked up too badly!- was quickly overwhelmed by wariness. Normal Roman’s sword was a lot more deadly than the toothpick-sized one, and he wasn’t in the form Roman actually liked. After a moment of awkward silence contemplating the odds of getting stabbed for having an alter ego, Virgil realized this was his chance.

“Oh, great, you’re back to your normal big-headed self. I assume you can handle wrapping your ankle on your own, then.” He pushed away from the counter, voice forced into nonchalance.

“Wait!” Roman clamped a hand onto his wrist, and he barely suppressed a flinch. “Have you seen… a bracelet? Purple, maybe small?”

Virgil could practically feel the metal charm burning a whole in his pocket. He grimaced. “If I do, I’ll let you know.”

It wasn’t really a lie. He just couldn’t let him know as Anxiety. Roman sighed and released him, and he wasted no time in bolting out of the lounge like his life depended on it, heart racing.

He was going to take the longest nap of his life.

#sanders sides #g/t #Giant/tiny #dragon au #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #i feel bad theyve been a bit background but dw theyll get their turn #tiny dragon virgil #tsits #the shapes in the silence #my writing #writing #taglist soon to follow!

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