#i mean first i haven’t even been approved yet and I don’t know what a new relationship does to my chances | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amourdyke · 4 months

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𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ✷ 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐄

pjo fanfiction 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✷ your father wouldn’t approve of how my mother raised me but i do i think i do, and you’re an all-american girl i guess i couldn’t help trying to be your best american girl ✷ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ooc clarisse, aphrodite’s daughter reader, fake dating, angst and pining

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄

The words escaped her mouth before she could fully comprehend what was happening. Big bad Clarisse La Rue with a temper to mimic boiling water and the fight skills to ward off teasing has finally been a victim to it irredeemably as lies slipped past her lips spontaneously, unthinking.

“You had a girlfriend this whole time and none of us knew? Yeah, right, Clarisse, you’re full of shit”

“She used to date a Hephaestus chick, alright? Didn’t want anyone pointing out the whole history repeating itself trope of Aphrodite and Ares” A part of her is proud of her trope, a child of Apollo worthy storyline invented last minute, it seemed to not occur to her the way specifics would bite her in the ass until her sibling’s eyes sparkled mischievously, pointing towards the other end of the bonfire at a female figure she had not seen before, though apparently the only one who seemed to match characteristics.

“You mean to say you’re dating angel face over there?”

Your eyes caught hers for the first time in that moment, setting ablaze something at the pit of her stomach that had seemed to lay dormant far too long, hence the beginning of the relentless conversation she found herself in in the first place. “Yeah, that’s her, my girl” she concurs, taking a sip of her drink and staring off into your figure like a predator.

You first met Tori before you were claimed. She would sneak into the Hermes cabin to give you midnight kisses and hide freshly made jewellery she forged instead of armour under your pillow for surprises, adorning your neck in both purple bruises and metal chains, her own special claim on you. Until your mother showed face. It burned you to remember how she spoke, as though not knowing you, like Aphrodite you must be your mother’s daughter. A cheater, she meant. You still dreamed that your only claim was Tori’s kisses and necklaces on days like these where you watched her by the bonfire avoid your every glimpse.

And then someone’s grip is on your arm.

“I wonder what could the most infamous child of Ares possibly want with me” She raises her eyebrows at the nickname from you, someone she had not acknowledged nor recognized before today though the opposite could clearly not be said, the beginning of a smirk ghosting over her features.

“Is that what I am?”

“Don’t play dumb, Clarisse, it’s not your best look, you know exactly what you are, it’s your charm, that is if you’re into the whole bully chic thing”

“I need a favour from you” She wastes no time and you scoff in response, your eyes still seeking out Tori, anxiously hoping she does not see any of this interaction as to not play out scenarios in her head. Clarisse takes none of it. She grabs you by the chin, in a firm yet surprisingly careful hold and forces you to face her, wide brown eyes with a beauty you hadn’t quite recollected before seeing its warm specks up close like firecrackers trapped behind her irises. You shake off the thought and cross your arms.

“Why would I do you any favours? I bet you don’t even know my name, hell, I bet you don’t even know who I am in general–”

“You’re my girlfriend”

“I beg your pardon?” You nearly choke and Clarisse laughs.

“I’ve been watching you. You’ve been staring at that raven haired Hephaestus girl for the last forty minutes uninterrupted while I can quite easily point out at least six girls who have been drooling to get your attention in the last sixty and you haven’t even spared them a pity glance, so I’m going to guess that’s your ex?”

“What does that have to do with anything besides the fact you’re apparently a fucking stalker?”

“Feisty, angel face” She snarks “I need a girlfriend to get some people off my back for awhile and you apparently want your ex back, so why don’t you use that tiny love focused brain of yours and think for two seconds what makes someone temporarily lose their senses and say, get back together with their ex?”

“You want me to use you to make Tori jealous?”

“Do you really have anything to lose?”

You watch her train, that’s your first date, and it starts off as uninteresting as you guessed it would be. Until she’s flexing a little too much, and you’re catching on, of course, but it’s working, because you’re suddenly focused, mouth agape as she lifts up her shirt exposing her perfectly sculpted abdomen to clean sweat off her forehead with the orange cloth.

“Having fun gawking?” She teases.

“Isn’t that what you brought me here for?”

Clarisse twists her spear around in the air and finally settles it behind her flexed arms, moving towards you as she looks around the training grounds for something, eyes sparkling at the sight of a similar weapon to hers “You know how to fight, angel face?”

“I’m a demigod, Clarisse” She feigns fright at your words before rolling her eyes and moves to throw the spare spear towards you, which you take in hands overwhelmed. She steps back and motions you forward which for whatever reason you comply, before you know it her breath is hot on your neck, a whisper: “Your little ex is watching”

She wasn’t entirely truthful. Tori was there, but she barely spared you a glance. Clarisse’s siblings however watched her every move, and she was preparing a spectacle. Positioning herself behind you, hands on your waist as to fix your stance, she dismissed the way her fingers seemed to physically burn at the sensation of your skin desperately seeking out to touch you more and focused on pointing your aim at the dummy before you. It strikes him right in the heart first try and falls backwards on itself. You’re beaming. Clarisse’s chest squeezes. She forgets to let go of your love handles until you turn around.

“You look pretty when you’re deadly” She casually lets out, a sigh.

“Did Tori see your hands on me?” You look around, an attempt at casually catching your exes eye. You miss the way Clarisse frowns when she agrees nonchalantly. One of her siblings winks, she thinks to herself this was too much trouble.

“Okay I think that’s enough performing for a day”

“You’ll hurt me this way, princess. Can’t stand me that much? I don’t get it, did I dunk one of your friends on the toilet or something?”

“I don’t understand”

“Playing dumb isn’t your look either” Clarisse mimics your first encounter as she stares daggers at you. She looks like she could see right through your soul and it sends shivers down your spine.

“You really don’t remember me, huh?” You scoff, and Clarisse is furrowing her brows and attempting to dive into her memory but you’re quicker to refresh it “My first year here I was like a lost and kicked puppy. And you were the girl who killed the monster who nearly killed me and actually killed my satyr protector. I guess it was just another day for you but it was my worst nightmare and you were a fucking knight in shining armor, I thought so anyways. I followed you around for months, and what does it say that you didn’t even know my name until two days ago? You are probably the one most self centered person I have ever met and I was a stupid little girl with a crush who thought you could save me while you actively terrorised everyone who was nice to you. Including me. And you don’t even remember taunting me, because it was just another fucking wednesday. So maybe I’m not enthusiastic about playing your girlfriend for longer than I have to”

It suddenly dawns on her, the memory of you. You looked different now, she guessed those were some perks of growing up as an Aphrodite kid but staring at your face, hurt expression, made the resemblance uncanny. To the one person she regretted hurting. She had just lost a fight and you had ran after her for comfort, but Ares had seen it. So there was nothing you could say. She wanted someone to hurt like she was hurting as though it would take her own pain away. She lost the fucking fight because she looked for you in the audience as she was winning. Affection made her weak. She made you pay for it.

“You called me a stupid girl who doesn’t know when to leave people alone and that’s why no one could stand me. Ring a bell?” You turned around to leave when Clarisse was silent. She surprised herself when she spoke up.

“Well let me teach you to hate me less!” She called out, running her hand through her curls frantically “We can’t do this if you don’t stand the sight of me, my siblings won’t buy it, your ex girlfriend who knows you certainly won’t either. Let’s go out and talk and maybe you’ll like something about me, I don’t know”

“Why does it matter so much to you that you have a girlfriend? Why do your siblings care? Answer me this and I might go with you”

“Fucking Gods, you’re insufferable” She mutters “Because I’m tired of being the one with no life, okay? All I have is training, and everyone knows that and I hate when they start worrying so I need anything to ward it off and I guess relationship maybe screams reason to live and not dying to be a war martyr so this is what I got, okay? It’s stupid, but it’s what I got”

“Alright”

“Alright?”

“I’ll try to like you, Clarisse”

She leads you to the forest in the middle of the night as to not alert anyone. The moon is full and it lights up her face in a way that softens her usually rough features. It is strange how your hands meet eachothers halfway in a hold until you reach your destination, a lake surrounded by flowers. You’re taking off your clothes, stripping into underwear before Clarisse could even fully process it, her eyes widening at the sight of your unbuttoning jeans reaching your calves, then the floor.

“Aren’t you coming?” You say as you stumble into the water. She watches you, the same way she had at the bonfire, and feels guilt pool at her throat for the way she gazed at your body. Clarisse wants to put a word to her feeling and all that comes to mind is hungry. She feels hungry. Like she could bite into your skin and tarnish its softness, like she needs to.

She takes off her clothes as well, skin still hot despite the cold air embracing her suddenly. You watch her too, she notices. Though she can’t pinpoint the look in your eye as she walks into the lake and heads towards you, stopping until your chests barely touch. There’s unusual heavy breathing from the both of you, hypnotised. You’re sure you won’t speak of it tomorrow.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m trying to find things to like about you, work with me here”

“I like red. Like blood”

“Like love” Clarisse doesn’t bother to reply to your argument, but it makes a part of her shake. War and romance unfortunately have too many things in common, she notes to herself.

“My turn. Why do you want your ex back?”

“Because she was good to me. She was kind and soft and she liked me. I miss feeling like someone cares like that”

“Aren’t you Aphrodite’s daughter? Doesn’t that sound a little like the bare minimum? She’s good to you? She’s kind? Didn’t she stop being those things when it ended?”

“You don’t know anything about relationships, Clarisse, you’ve never had one. I’m difficult, I’m a cheater’s kid, I’m–”

“You’re beautiful. Breathtaking, like your mom. Maybe that’s the only thing you got from her. You can aim. You’re strong. You’re apparently vengeful at least towards me which in my books is an attractive quality, you’re witty and you get little crinkles around your eyes when you laugh. I’m going to guess you didn’t cheat on that ex of yours so you’re not an asshole, for sure not a cheater. You give people chances when they don’t deserve it. I’m not quite following what could be so damn difficult about you”

You stay silent for awhile. Thinking. She hates herself for not knowing what it is that you think, and regrets saying so many things in your quietness. Then you whisper something she doesn’t catch and she asks you to say it again and in clear noise it sounds as shocking as it did when she first thought to have tricked her ears: “You never had a relationship, have you ever been kissed?”

Clarisse shakes her head no.

“Can I kiss you?” You correct yourself as you lean in, placing a curl behind her ear “Just in case we need to do this in front of your siblings or Tori, so we’re ready”

“Right” Clarisse mumbles as her hands snake her way around your waist pulling your body closer to fully press against hers “Just in case” she finishes whispering before her lips finds yours. There’s more desire than you both thought there would be. It’s desperate. Messy. Tongues clashing and chests heaving. She wants to taste you forever. She thinks she’s screwed.

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #dior goodjohn #percy jackson fanfiction

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flutteringphalanges · 11 months

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Protostar

Adam Warlock x Star Lord!Sister Reader

Prompt: You’re pregnant. The very thought of it is so surreal. And more importantly, it’s Adam’s. Now not only do you have to break the news to the man you love, uncertain of how he will react, but then there are the rest of the Guardians too. And more importantly, your brother, Peter.

Word Count: 3,878

A/N: Hello! I am back again with another Adam Warlock x Reader baby themed one shot! I will add a link to this one to the post that has all of my one shots to this series so far. Requests are open! I’m currently working on one at the moment! Any thoughts of any kind, my comments and mailbox are open! I hope you enjoy! -Jen

Protostar

Pregnant. A word that had seemed so foreign to you up until now. An aspect you hadn’t even begun to fathom would happen to you. And yet here you were, sitting far off from the hustle and bustle of Knowhere’s square trying to clear your mind. Trying to think through haze and churning from your own stomach as you processed it all. Wondering how you would announce it to Adam. So lost in your head you didn’t even notice when Kraglin took a seat beside you.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

Kraglin had been like an older brother to both you and Peter. Though, your relationship was a little better at the time because, growing up, he felt as if he needed to compete with the boy from Terra for Yondu’s approval. That had changed though. Now the three of you were equally close. You looked over to him, not too sure what to say. In all honesty, he was the last person you’d imagined to break the news to first.

“I don’t know.” You responded softly with a shrug. “I haven’t decided, I guess.”

“What’s wrong?” Kraglin asked, his tone slightly concerned. “Did something happen? Is it Adam?” He paused, his expression more serious than you’re used to. “Did he do something?”

He did, but technically so did you. You exhaled, wondering why you didn’t stay cooped up in the confinement of your room. That way you could’ve at least hid from it all a little longer. Pretend that everything was as it should be. You wished Adam was here, he had a way of making you feel better. Then again, maybe it was better that he wasn’t.

“Y/N?” Kraglin’s voice snapped you back into reality. You turned and looked at him as he placed a hand on your knee. “Uh, you want me to get Pete?”

“NO!” The word came out much sharper than you meant it to causing Kraglin to visibly flinch. “Sorry, I mean, no…that’s okay.”

The last thing you needed was your brother. Peter was overprotective, he had always been. Even though you two were adults, he was still annoying when it came to you and relationships. When you and Adam first got together, he made it clear to you that he wasn’t exactly supportive of it all. Sure, the guy had saved him from literally turning into a human icicle in space, but he was still wary from the Rocket fiasco. That was something that you knew would take a long time to repair. At this point you were lucky he was tolerating it all and not getting on your case. If he knew you were expecting…well, you didn’t know how he’d take the news.

“Can I trust you, Kraglin?” You asked, knowing full well there was no turning back after saying something like that. “Swear on Yondu you won’t say anything? Especially to Peter?”

Kraglin looked at you with such uncertainty it was almost comical. Almost. “Yeah…” He replied with hesitation. “Cross a Ravanger’s heart.”

You nodded, looking at the ground. “I’m pregnant.”

“...Oh.” He said after a moment, shifting awkwardly where he sat. “...Is it Adam’s?” You threw him a dark look that caused him to hold up his hands defensively. “I’m sorry! It’s just well…congratulations? I mean, this is good, right?”

You let out a loud groan and covered your face. “I don’t know!” The words came out muffled from behind your hands. “You’re the only one who knows.”

“I’m honored! Thanks!”

“Only because you showed up here.” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh. Kraglin didn’t deserve it. “I’m sorry, Kraglin, I’m…I’m not trying to take this out on you. Maybe it’s the stupid hormones, I don’t know. I found out today and I’m not processing it well, I guess.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He offered, and you felt his hand rest on your shoulder. “I don’t know nothing about having babies, but if there is something you like, maybe a glass of water, or a blanket? Wait, that may be for shock…”

For the first time that day, you actually smiled. Sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder what Kraglin might’ve become if he hadn’t ever joined the Ravangers. You leaned forward and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Just your support is nice.�� You told him, inhaling deeply. “Thanks.”

“Well sure, we may be Guardians now, but we'll always be Ravangers at heart.” Kraglin grinned at you when you pulled back. “And Ravangers take care of our own. Well, except when we don’t, but you know what I mean. We’re family. All of us here. I guess what I’m tryin’ to get at is we’ve got your back. Adam’s a great guy, I mean, he did almost wreck all of Knowhere--”

“Kraglin.”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s in the past, is in the past. He turned out to be a great guy, right? Saved Pete, helped fix up a mess, managed to even join the Guardians. That’s somethin’, right?” He took a deep breath. “I don’t need to be able to read minds or do that emotion thingy that Mantis does to know Adam loves you. Like a whole lot.”

“I know he does.” Your smile was soft. “It’s more than mutual.”

“So it’s gonna be alright, okay? When have I ever lied to you?” Kraglin asked with a grin.

You gave him a look. There were not enough fingers on each hand for you to count the number of times both he and your brother had pulled some stunt on you. All relatively harmless, but you had learned not to be so gullible since.

“I need to go find Adam.” You told him, dusting off what little dirt had gotten on your pants. “He’s probably worried. Last thing I need for him is to go hunt Peter down. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to approach that one.”

“No matter what, Pete’ll come around. He always does.” Kraglin tried to assure you. “He got used to you and Adam. This is just another thing added on.” A big thing.

It was becoming apparent that, for the time being, you needed to focus on one thing--telling Adam. The rest you could try to get yourself to stop worrying about until later. You pulled Kraglin one last time for a quick squeeze.

“Thank you, Kraglin. For everything.”

“That’s what family’s for.” He said with a smile. “Even if we ain’t exactly a normal bunch.”

XXX

The nausea you felt the moment you stepped over the threshold and into your room was not from the baby. Part of you wanted nothing more than to just turn back and find a new spot to hide in, somewhere where no one could find you. But Blurp, Adam’s beloved furry F’saki, immediately bounded over and pounced excitedly at your legs.

“Hey, buddy.” You said, giving the animal a half smile as you reached down to scratch it behind one of its ears. “It’s good to see you too.”

“Y/N!”

Adam came bounding in with a mixed look of concern and relief at your arrival. You straightened up as he walked over to you, his hands immediately reaching and cupping your face as he studied you carefully. You felt as if you were a piece of fruit being checked for bruises by a potential customer.

“Are you alright? I was worried. You weren’t here when I returned and I kept waiting, but you didn’t leave a note--and I know that you can take care of yourself, as you’ve said before--”

“Adam.” You said, cutting him off. “I’m fine.”

He beamed at your response and looked down at Blurp. “See, I told you everything was fine. No need to get anyone else involved or form a search party.” The creature gurgled and nudged your leg.

“But, Adam, we do need to talk…” His expression changed to one of confusion as you took a step back. “It’s important.”

“Oh?” He responded, following you as you took a seat on the edge of your bed. “What do you want to talk about? Should I be worried?” And his laugh was nervous--making your own anxiety that much worse.

“I don’t know.” Probably not the best answer to give him. “I mean…I don’t know how you will feel about this.”

Gods, if you could have any power in all the universes, invisibility would’ve been great. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at Adam as you feel his hand take yours. Tears started to well up in your eyes and suddenly you found yourself flooded with emotions. Damn hormones.

“Y/N, my love, what’s the matter? Don’t cry! Tell me what I must do!” Adam was cupping your face once more, searching your eyes for answers. “Have I done something wrong? If I have, please tell me and I will make amends. Please, say something, you’re scaring me.”

You shook your head and hiccuped. “You didn’t…you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m…” The deep breath you took was shaky, and you could only hope you didn’t look as gross as you sounded. “Adam, I’m pregnant.”

The silence that blanketed the room made you want to crawl over into a corner and die. This was it. Adam was going to get up and leave you and everything would fall apart. The Guardians would banish you from the team. From your family. Knowhere was exile you. You would have no one and nothing and Thanos might as well have snapped you for good.

“I’m going to be a father?”

The words snapped you back into reality. Through tears, you looked and saw Adam gazing at you with such glee and adoration it sort of caught you by surprise. You sniffed, wiping your face with your sleeve--nevermind how unattractive it must’ve looked, and nodded.

“Yeah.” You answered him softly. “You’re going to be a dad.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I never had a father.”

The corners of your mouth twitched into a small smile at his statement. “...I don’t remember my mom.”

“...Do you think I could be a good father?” Adam asked slowly, his gaze burning into yours. He sounded hopeful.

“Yeah.” You said with a smile. “I know you’d be a wonderful dad. There is not a doubt in my mind that says otherwise.” There was hesitation in your voice as you asked the next question. “Do you think I’d be a good mom?”

Adam chuckled warmly. “You already are to good, old Blurp right here.” Blurp trotted over and jumped into your lap, licking excitedly at your face. “See? Even he approves, and he is very particular too.”

“I can see that.” You laughed, carefully moving the dog onto the mattress. Sighing, you gazed into Adam’s eyes, getting lost in their golden pools. “Are you happy then? Are you…okay with this?”

Adam said nothing as he leaned forward and kissed you. You allowed your arms to wind around his neck as one of his arms hooked around your waist and pulled you close. Nothing sounded better than staying in that moment for all eternity. The warmth and gentleness of it all. You almost had to fight the urge to pull him back in when he stopped.

“I have never been more certain of something in my entire life.” Adam said with so much pride your heart swelled. “And I will love this child as I do you, Y/N. You are--well, now it is two of you I suppose, the most important things in my eternal life. I will do better than my best to be the very best! I swear it.”

You chuckled, sniffing as you beamed back at him. “That was quite the speech.”

“Was it what you wanted?” Adam inquired, wiping away at a stray tear that’d begun to slide down your cheek. “Are you okay? Perhaps I should’ve asked that first.”

Even though it would be months until you felt anything, you rested your hand on your stomach. You began to imagine the sensation, what little movements, kicks, flutters your baby would give you. Your baby. Adam’s baby. Gods, it sounded so surreal and yet, so right.

“Yeah.” You inhaled, your gaze deep as it met Adam’s. “I’ve never felt happier.”

XXX

“We need to tell them.”

Adam’s voice was soft as his hand gently rubbed your back from where he knelt beside you on the floor. Your head hung over the toilet as you tried to fight back the wave of nausea that stirred in your stomach. Morning sickness, more like ‘all day sickness’. It had been a week since you had broken the news to Adam--and technically Kraglin--about the baby. From the get go, he had wanted to tell the others but you had sworn him to secrecy. You still were avoiding sharing the unexpected pregnancy announcement with your brother. But now, with how violently ill your body had decided to start becoming, you weren’t really left with any options.

“Maybe we can just wait until they’re born.” You mumbled weakly, the bitter taste of bile coating the inside of your mouth. “Spring it on them then.”

“I don’t think that would be the best idea--or even possible.” Adam responded, frowning softly when you waved away at the glass of water he tried to coax in your hand. “They’re starting to worry about how sick you’ve been. And you already told Kraglin.”

“That wasn’t in my original plans.” You answered somewhat defensively. “Besides, there’s a big difference between him and Peter knowing. The others I’m not as worried about. I’m his little sister, but he forgets I’m not so little anymore. Like a lot.” Your stomach gurgled and you heaved a big sigh. “I can take care of my damn self.”

“I know.” And the palm of his hand began to knead between your shoulder blades. “But the sooner we get it over with, the better you will feel about it. And you aren’t alone in this. I’m right with you. We’ll tell them together and it will go over well, I promise.”

XXX

The last time you saw a look like the one Peter was giving you now was when you accidentally dropped his Walkman as a kid and it fell between the grates of Yondu’s ship. How he managed to get it back out before it slipped to its eternal demise, you were unsure--or cared. But this look was not about any sort of music box. Oh no, this was something much greater.

“...You’re pregnant?” Peter asked slowly, eyes flashing from you to Adam. “As in having a baby? Together?”

“Yes, I am.” Before anyone could speak up, you quickly added. “And we’re happy too. Really happy.” Adam’s arm found its way around your waist offering a sense of comfort that you needed. “And since we’re family, we were hoping that maybe you all would feel the same way.”

The silence was killing you. The way they were all watching, Peter especially, you almost wanted to curl up into a ball and beg Adam to fly you back to your room. Try again on another day. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around, followed by a squeal.

“I am VERY happy for you!” Mantis gushed, beaming at you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Adam nervously watching, probably concerned with how tight she was hugging you. “Oh this is such good news!”

Drax broke into one of his deep fits of laughter. “Quill! That means your sister had sex!” Of all the anti-social things he could’ve said, he had to go with that one. How wonderfully mortifying. “But I am also happy for you!”

One of Groot’s branches reached out and touched your stomach. “I am Groot.” Or, as you had grown to understand. “I like babies.”

Nebula gave you a rare smile from where she stood beside Rocket. She had come so far since you first met her those many years back. Gone from enemy to a true member of the Guardians. The late Gamora, your Gamora, would’ve been proud to see what she had become.

“Congratulations,” Nebula said with a nod.

“I agree with the others!” The canine yipped, her tail wildly wagging when she trotted over to you. “I will protect the baby like a good dog!” She licked your hand leaving you secretly grateful she didn’t try to jump up. “This is good news!”

Rocket, who had been at Peter’s side, made his way over. “Yeah, yeah, what they all said.” He said with a half smile, arms folded. “Guess we better get one of those sign things to hang on the ship that says Baby On Board or something.”

“So no one else sees a problem with this?!”

Peter’s voice popped you out of that blissful bubble you had found yourself in. Everyone was looking at him now, the good mood immediately snuffed out. Your stomach began to churn, only this time, it wasn’t from the pregnancy symptoms.

“We just got our team back together and everything was fine! Now you had to go along and get pregnant!” He jabbed a finger in your direction. “I dunno, did you not consider how this might impact the rest of us?!”

Where the hell was this coming from? “You know, just a ‘Wow, congratulations, Y/N’ would have easily sufficed!” You were fuming. Of course you knew he would be a dick when you needed him most. “This was a surprise to us! I’m sorry I didn’t take you into consideration!”

“You know you can’t come on any missions, right, Y/N?” His eyes then landed on Adam, his new target. “You know she is basically out of commission. She’s a risk! Now we’re down a teammate!”

“Peter, leave him alone!” You snapped, moving protectively in front of Adam. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Oh, really, he didn’t now?” Shit, you led him right into that. “Did you forget that whole thing when Goldilocks over there busted through our home and almost killed Rocket, not to mention trying to take the rest of us out with him?!”

“Everyone deserves a second chance, Pete.” Rocket cut in with a frown. “You’ve said it yourself before, and it’s clear that Adam has. I’ve forgiven him, why haven’t you?”

You weren’t sure if Rocket’s words struck a chord with Peter or not. In reality, you really could’ve cared less at that point. Tears of frustration and sadness had already begun to well up in your eyes, you didn’t want to give him the courtesy of seeing.

“Thanks, everyone.” You said, stare fixed on the ground. “Your support means a lot.”

Adam’s hand caught your wrist as you started walking away from the group. “Y/N?”

“I’m fine.” You told him, pulling your hand out of his grasp. “I just need some space. I’ll meet you back in the room. I love you.” And you made sure that you said the last part loud enough for Peter to hear.

XXX

You had practically built yourself a nest out of pillows and blankets on the top of your bed. Adam’s pillow was stained with your tears because you had chosen it to be the one you cried into. He smelled nice. Honestly, your fight with Peter could’ve gone a hell of a lot worse. You could think of several things you might’ve spat out at him that would’ve hit him hard and good. There was enough that you didn’t need to add onto.

Suddenly, you heard a knock on your bedroom door--which was odd considering Adam always chose to waltz in without first announcing himself. Whatever, it had been a weird day as it was. Who were you to dictate how your partner came and went?

“Adam, the door isn’t locked. Just come in.”

But the person who opened the door wasn’t Adam. Peter. You watched quietly as your brother made his way over to your bed, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. After the fallout, why exactly had he decided to show up? Was he going to give you another earful?

“Before mom died, she made me promise that I would always protect you. Even before that, I felt like I always needed to because it was just the three of us. Well, four if you wanted to include grandpa, but three.”

You chose not to respond, deciding to see where he was going with this.

“You may be grown, Y/N, but you will always be my little sister.” Peter said, his voice no longer harsh as it had been. “But that isn’t an excuse to lash out when you get into a relationship or, well, get pregnant. You’re tough. Quills have to be. And if you love Adam and this is what you want, you have my full support.” From his spot, he smiled at you. “Besides, I think I’d make a pretty damn good uncle.”

Finally, you looked up to meet his gaze. “That was a dick move you pulled back there.”

Peter sighed. “I know, I’m really sorry about that.”

“And you owe Adam an apology for trying to make him feel like shit.” He watched you, probably trying to figure out your next words. Inhaling, you continued on. “But I forgive you. I know you mean well, but I can take care of myself. Adam is a really great guy and he has changed. I really want you two to get along, especially with this baby coming. I need my big brother. I need you.”

“Y/N, you couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.” He replied, lightly throwing one of your pillows in your direction. You dodged it with a smile. “Call it a talent.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you beamed the pillow straight back. “You’re such a dork.” The imense amount of relief you felt now was so welcoming. “This baby will be lucky to have you as an uncle. I wish Yondu was here.” Though, you weren’t quite sure how your adoptive father of sorts would feel about a baby. “...I wish mom was too.”

Peter moved and pulled you into a hug--one that you didn’t realize you needed so badly. “Me too.” He admitted with a sigh. “She’d be so excited. She was the best mom, and I know she’d make an even better grandma. And I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be just as great at it as she was.”

You gave Peter a watery smile, only this time your tears were happy. “You think so?”

He chuckled. “When have I ever lied to you?” And you couldn’t help but think back to Kraglin at that.

You rested your hand on your stomach, something you had a gut feeling would become more natural as time went on. Your mind wandered to the little life inside of you. What would they look like? Adam? You? Growing something inside of you that was the product of your shared love. Even though you had only known about this baby for such a short amount of time, they were already so adored. A smile crossed your face at it all. The new chapter in your life, his life, everyone’s that had only just begun.

#Adam Warlock #Adam Warlock x Reader #Reader x Adam Warlock #gotg vol 3 #Adam Warlock Imagine #Guardians of the Galaxy #Aydith Warlock

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risustravelogue · 7 months

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How Do I Know

Summary:

How do you know if you're in love with someone?

Featuring:

Alhaitham, friend!Kaveh, gn!Reader (they/them pronouns used)

Tone:

Crack-ish, fluff.

Note:

My second-half entry for @soleillunne's saudade milestone event! First half was written by @kazumist. I changed the capitalization, hope you don't mind >.< P.S. We love ourselves an idiot Haitham don't we lmao-

🔗 masterlist 🔗

What does it mean to fall in love?

No, scratch that.

How do you know if you’re in love with someone?

Alhaitham has been asking himself that question lately.

Believe him, he had never actually thought that much about love, and he had never fallen in love in his life. So it’s safe to say that yes, Alhaitham is pretty much an idiot when it comes to romance and the like.

Kaveh feels hopeless for him; he knows—hell, everyone knows at this point! You could just see it in how Alhaitham looks at you. There’s just something in his eyes that says it all for him. That he had helplessly fallen head over heels for you. Don’t even get his roommate started on how he’s been acting lately.

He and Alhaitham had a rule that they’d go on an alternative schedule for grocery shopping. But when it was Alhaitham’s turn, he had you tag along! (Don’t get him wrong, Kaveh thinks you’re a lovely person. But was there really a need to bring you along? Then again, if that’s what his roommate is happy with, who is he to interfere?)

Archons, there’s also the fact that of all, or at least the majority, of the conversations that Kaveh shared with Alhaitham, he’s sure that at least 97% of them were about you.

And Kaveh knew it was going to happen again right now.

“Are flowers really a good gift for someone?” Alhaitham asks, and Kaveh almost spits out his drink.

“What?”

“I said what I said.”

“I mean, why do you ask?”

“(Name) said it’s a nice gift to receive, but I disagree with it since what if the one you gifted it to can’t take care of plants? Wouldn’t that be troublesome for them?”

There he goes again, the architect thinks.

Kaveh is surprised that, for a smart person like Alhaitham, he’s really an idiot in love.

“Hey,” Kaveh drawls, giving his glass a swirl.

“What is it?”

“Have you ever considered the possibility that you’re in love?”

Alhaitham feels paralyzed. No, that thought has never crossed his mind. Not once, not until now, when his roommate had opened the topic. But now that he has, the gears in his mind start gearing as he connects some dots. He isn’t stupid or slow (or so he says), yet... for once in his life, he isn’t quite sure if he’s right in his answer.

“I haven’t.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

How do you know if you’re in love with someone?

Alhaitham’s answer to this predicament is “Alright, Mr. Love Expert, so give me a list of things I need to check.”

“Huh?” Kaveh sputters in disbelief.

Alhaitham sighs. “Give me a checklist is what I’m saying.”

“No, no, I get that, but why ask me instead of love advice books?”

“The House of Daena doesn’t have those kinds of books,” Alhaitham says with a deadpan expression.

Kaveh grumbles. “You’re such an– ugh, fine!” The blond architect grabs a small piece of scrap paper and a pen. He starts scribbling on the paper carelessly, as if he wants it to be over already.

“Keep in mind that I’m giving you this only because it’s becoming increasingly painful to see the great Akademiya Scribe being such a dumbass,” he says, handing over the checklist to his old friend.

A small smile creeps onto Alhaitham’s lips as he reads the checklist.

1. Your heartbeat speeds up whenever they’re around. 2. You smile a lot when talking with them. 3. They are in your last thoughts before you fall asleep. 4. Their opinions weigh a lot in your mind. 5. You feel jealous whenever you see them getting physically intimate with another person. 6. You walk toward them hastily, as if impatient to interact with them. 7. You have thought about spending the rest of your life with them.

The scribe nods in approval. “Thanks. This will be really helpful.”

Kaveh’s mouth goes agape. “Are you actually being sincere with me right now?”

“Shut it.”

That night, Alhaitham puts a check mark after number three.

—

By the end of the work week, Alhaitham thinks that Kaveh is sorely mistaken.

He takes out the worn scrap of paper out of the book he’s currently reading and sighs. His handwriting litters the gaps on the paper.

1. Your heartbeat speeds up whenever they’re around. Normal heart rate. Invalid. 2. You smile a lot when talking with them. Is once every conversation a lot? 3. They are in your last thoughts before you fall asleep. ✓ 4. Their opinions weigh a lot in your mind. Nonsense. Every opinion must be weighed objectively. 5. You feel jealous whenever you see them getting physically intimate with another person. This never happens. 6. You walk toward them hastily, as if impatient to interact with them. I do that, but not because I’m impatient. 7. You have thought about spending the rest of your life with them.

Leaning back into his work chair, he lifts the paper until it’s mere inches from his nose and stares hard at number seven. Kaveh’s tired words from this morning echoes in his mind.

“Alhaitham, if you checked number 7, you can consider all the others checked and confess. To. (Name). Already.”

Really? Alhaitham thinks. Spending the rest of your life with one person? Do people really make foolish promises like that?

As Kaveh’s hasty handwriting starts to swirl, he pinches the bridge of his nose.

But then… that doesn’t sound so foolish if it’s with you…

He takes a deep breath and gets up from his work chair, stuffing the list back into his book with a sigh. It’s time to meet with you in the House of Daena.

… How do I know if I’m really in love with you, (name)?

The question floats around in the silver-haired scribe’s mind as he walks into the majestic library with his headphones off, his sensitive ears searching for the sound of your voice. Once he hears your exasperated sigh, he quickly walks toward your direction and sits beside you.

“I see the formula is as tough as ever,” he says, a smirk on his face.

“It is!” you hiss, banging your forehead onto the wooden desk. “I enrolled in this course to get away from numbers, and what I got is a super complicated formula to calculate substance release for the final assignment,” you pout. You ramble on to complain, and all Alhaitham can think is how adorable you look when you’re irritated.

I wouldn’t mind hearing you complain for the rest of my life, he thinks.

You stop and turn to face him, your eyebrows frowning in disbelief. “... What did you just say?”

Alhaitham blinks. “Did I say anything?”

“You just said you wouldn’t mind…”

“… hearing you complain for the rest of my life, yes.”

Several seconds of silence hangs in the air while every gear in his head snaps into place.

“Ah. So that’s how it is,” he smiles. Before you can respond, he takes your hands into his and tugs your fingers gently.

“(Name)... it looks like I’m in love with you,” he declares, his gaze meeting yours, both the relief of realization and the flames of excitement twinkling in his eyes. You feel a blush blooming across your face.

“You idiot…” you mutter, averting your gaze away from him. “Confessing in the middle of the library, and so loud, too…”

“But Kaveh said–”

“That doesn’t mean you have to say it so loudly in here! You could’ve taken me out to a nice dinner first… or something…”

“Oh, sorry.”

He tries to pull his hands away. Try being the keyword, as you pull them back to keep them in place.

“That said, I’ll forgive you, since I love you too,” you say with a smile.

His lips then meet yours in a tender kiss, as if uttering a silent promise.

Now I know, and I won’t know any other.

#saudade; milestone #alhaitham #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #kurisu writes #hehehe thank you shower muse goddess

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unhinged-diaries · 4 months

Text

Business Guide:

How to get started

When you have a business name in mind look up the domain name to see if it’s taken. You don’t want to spend money on an LLC just to find out that your name is taken. Thats a waste of money because you also have to pay to dissolve it.

If the name is not taken, great, don’t file an LLC yet. Go online and get a virtual business address. Why? If you’re running your business out of your home like I am, just know that it’s public information if you use your address to file your LLC. A virtual address should cost like $10-$20 a month. Use that to file your LLC.

Once you’ve filed that LLC get your Ein. That’s your Employee Identification Number. It’s your businesses tax id. It’s free to file on the IRS website. Don’t fall for the scam websites you guys.

Once you’ve gotten your EIN go to Google domains and get your website name aswell as 3-4 emails. An email for your social media accounts, an executive email for yourself, an [email protected] for things like your business bank account, Shopify account, etc; and maybe a customer support email. I use the social email as a customer support email. All of this should be like $50/month.

Once you’ve don’t that get on Canva and make that logo bookie. Personally I paid someone on Fiverr to make mine because I’m a “soft business life” kind of girl and I’d rather pay the professionals. Thats just me though.

Once you’ve got your logo go ahead and get them social media accounts going. Instagram, tiktok, Facebook.

Alright now this is where it gets specific to clothing brands because that’s what I own.

Time to find a manufacturer. Head over to alibaba and search what kind of product you want to sell. Be sure to add “oem” if you want a manufacturer that customizes. Look for the amount of orders they’ve gotten on that product. If it says zero orders that’s ok. Some styles are new and thus haven’t been ordered yet. Check any reviews they have for other products. Also check the total revenue they’ve done. It’s on the store profile. I can’t tell you what the sweet spot is yet bc I’ve only used one manufacturer so far but I’d look for mid six figures and up if you wanna be real safe.

Chat with them and order a sample. Even if you buy from a vendor list you’ll need your own sample to make content with. I suggest buying one and first. It’s worth the wait because if you buy multiple and end up not liking them you’d have wasted money that could’ve gone into testing a different manufacturer.

Do not launch with more than 2 products. Even 2 is a stretch, wallai start with one.

This is because if you’re doing the preorder, which I suggest, you’ll be depending on customer orders to pay for the bulk order. Manufacturers do their moq by color or style. If you have too many options in your website and customers order a mix of things, you better pray you have enough money to cover the bulk for all those different styles. Stay safe and give them 1-2 options to choose from.

Pre order method is great if you don’t have a lot of cash to start with because the orders pay for themselves. Bulk orders start to wrack up. Especially if it’s a custom style or material. You don’t want to break the bank for something that might not sell.

Once you’ve gotten and approved your samples choose a launch date. 2-3 weeks before that launch dates post consistently. At least once a day but remember quality over quantity. Now don’t be tricked. Quality doesn’t mean a full cinematography. It means connecting with your audience and relating with them to a point where they’re like “this business gets it”. Either that or attaching yourself to an identity they want to have. “It girl ig influencer”, “feminine soft life babe” “clean girl Pilates princess” whatever the fuck it is embody ur as best as you can. When customers attach your product with an identity that is aspirational to them they will buy it without rationalizing. It’s why the luxury market makes so much off of ppl who can’t afford to buy it twice.

Focus on the backend

If you have a goal of getting an influx of orders and making a lot of sales, be sure that your business is structured in a way that can handle it happening at any given time. You know those tiktok businesses that get one viral video and sell out over night? That could be you but if you’re not prepared ppl are going to be upset. I suggest working backwards:

A customer service platform/inbox so that you can answer them right away with frequently asked questions.

Have stock so that you have something for customers to buy once they finally land on your website.

Have a well presenting website so that ppl don’t think you’re a scam. I’m going to do a post on this bc some of these business websites drive me fuckin nuts. Color theory ppl, color theory.

A social media page with some kind of social proof ie reviews from customers in some way shape or form. Ppl are going to be looking for what others have to say about your brand. Hire UGC creators to make videos that you can post on your page. They’re cheaper than influencers but still know how to convey the message well. You’ll have to have extra samples and items on hand to send them. Also check out their usage rights. Some will allow you to use their videos in ads but you have to pay extra and it’s only for a certain amount of time. But if they do it right, you’ll get a great return. Scared money don’t make no money.

A social media page that shows the products in movement and different lighting. I need to be able to imagine myself in the item before I buy it. Where would I wear it, how will it fit on me. Even when I’ve already ordered something I stay going back to the businesses social media page just to see the clothes again. I might even search it up to see other ppl wearing it.

Packaging

No need to go crazy with the packaging in the beginning. Don’t get me wrong, branding is important but as a beginner you may not have the money for that yet. You need to focus on spending money on what will give you the best return. Just get regular poly mailers from Amazon in your brand colors. You’ll also need:

A stack of 6x4 shipping labels

A thermal printer

A scale

When your manufacturer sends you the clothes they will most likely be in their own little bags. If not you can get those from Amazon too.

Later on you can go to alibaba and find a manufacturer to print you custom poly mailers for that extra edge. Put your logo, a cute message, and your social media handles on the bag and that’s it. Good to go.

You can also design your own thank you cards as well. I won’t be doing that.

Little things to remember

Don’t feel like you have to keep up with big brands. You don’t need to launch something every two weeks. As a matter of fact I advise against emulating super fast fashion brands. I only launch a new item once the pre ordered items have been shipped out to customers.

Be nice to your customers. You’d think this was obvious but it’s not. Some ppl are rude, ghetto, and uncouth. If you hate authority and have a smart mouth I think you should either take a customer service course or hire a virtual assistant from the Philippines to do your customer service for you because no customers = no money.

I’ll update this as I learn and grow:

12/18/2023

Influencers

Not every influencer with a mass follower base is going to be your influencer. It’s possible that you pay $5000 for an influencer with 75k followers to post your product on her page but that post makes you less than $3k. That means you’ve net negative $2k. What a fuckin waste of money.

This is why it’s important to develop a persona for your brand. What is your brand identity? Who is your target audience? What are their psychographics?

Where do currently shop? What are there favorite social media apps?What is their race? Their age? Their ethnicity? Are they in college or highschool? Do they have parents that support their lifestyle or are they hustlers? Are they concerned about price or quality more? Are they married? Do they have children? Are they environmentally conscious?

You need to embody Joe Goldberg and peer at them through their window. Acquaint yourself with every part of their life.

Also, you might not be your target demographic yet and that’s ok. The girls that shop with my brand have social lives. They go out with their friends and need outfits to wear. I don’t have a social life. The only clothes I wear are my work clothes to go to work and my robe when I’m at home.Or a sweat set and a bonnet to run errands.

Don’t think to yourself “ I would never wear that.” “I would never buy something at that price point”. That’s fine cuz someone else will. A lot of people will.

Another thing is your demographic could change once you start your business. It might be that you create content that attracts a different type of person than what you originally planned and that’s cool too. We don’t live in a perfect world. As long as they’re close enough to what you had predetermined it’s ok. Sometimes our business comes out different than we hoped but it’s just as good if not better. It’s like child. Don’t destroy its greatness trying to turn it into something it doesn’t want to be.

User generated content

Love, love, love her down. She’s that sweet spot between making content yourself and having an influencer with a large following make the content for you. UGC is a form of social proof which is something you need for an e-commerce brand especially. Ppl can’t just pop into your store and try on your stuff so they need the opinions of “regular” people to sell them on it. They want to see that person try it on, do a close up of the fabric, wear it to a social setting, etc;

What I like about UGC is that I can pick someone who fits into my brand persona to represent my brand even if I don’t. Someone that appears aspirational but still relatable. Like I said previously, you yourself might not embody your brands persona but you can pay someone who does.

A little translate for yall: I do not live in a nice apartment. My room is small, and dark, and filled with boxes. My living room has mix matched decor and I myself am not the body type I’d like to be (pls don’t hit me with body positivity babe). What I can do is pay a girl with the opposite of all those things and knows how to sell a product.

I have a girl right now that I’ve inquired to make posts for me and she’s got it all. Her rate for one video is $100 with an extra $30 for 90 days of usage in ads. $100 is the new 50 and for the return I’ll get on her, THATS A STEAL.

If you need to find a UGC creator search it up on tiktok and Twitter. Most of them have a portfolio of past work they’ve done. If you feel like they match your brands vibes, keep their info for when you’re ready.

I suggest to have a roster of them because if ppl keep seeing the same person over and over, the thought that that person is just a regular degular customer leaves their mind and you lose the magic of UGC.

Update 12/21/2023

I’ve been sick but yall ain’t paying me so it’s ok. Here’s the update.

Website

Your website is your home babe and when you’re preparing for guest you can’t have your home looking any type of way. Not only does it need to be clean but it needs to be cohesive and inviting.

You know how many times I’ve opened someone’s booking page on Instagram and I click off. Not only am I not reading through all of that small ass text but my head hurts cuz you’ve got a black font on a hot pink background.

Some of yalls websites to not comply with accessibility guidelines so pay attention to that bc you can be sued. Ppl should be able to read what you have on there without getting a headache.

Good rule of thumb is to have one primary color, and then black and white. Don’t over complicate it. Your primary color will be your logo, think twitters blue, then your secondary colors should be black and white, for your text. You might have an accent color like gold or silver, this should be used sparingly for a little dazzle.

If you’re a clothing brand like me, keep the text short and sweet. Think about it, when you go shopping on your favorite website are you bombarded with a soliloquy on how the collection came to be? And even if you are do you stop and read the whole thing? I don’t bc I don’t care. That’s what your Instagram story is for.

All I want to see is the attention grabber and a short,but convincing, tagline.

Example: Ski Resort 2023-“Stun the slopes and stand out on the ski lift with best sellers spotted at St. Moritz”

Let you images tell the rest of the story.

Don’t overwhelm them with options

Guys this is so important. The more options ppl see the less they buy or the less likely they are to buy. Why? This is the thought process.

“Omg the stuff on this website is so cute! Let me go through their catalog and add to my cart as I go”

5 minutes of scrolling

“Ok I have too many things in my cart let me just save to a wishlist instead”

Another 5 minutes of scrolling

“Ok I’ll just stop here and go back to my cart and decide what I’m going to get rn”

Goes to cart

Spends 10 minutes deciding what she’s gonna get bc there’s so many good options

Takes 10 items out of her cart and only buys two basics bc she knows those are less likely to disappoint.

And scene

That is if she didn’t leave after the second five minutes of scrolling. Nowadays five minutes on a non stimulating website is a lot, don’t let it take that long.

Obviously this also depends on the customers budget. Some people have the money to just buy everything in their cart (I wish- one day), but most are just window shopper you hope to convert with your nice styles, images, and prices. Don’t make it harder for people to give you their money.

I have more but I’m tired of writing so I’ll update yall tmrw.

#level up #glow up #luxury #entrepreneur #spoiled heaux #blackgirlglowup #scaling business owner #confessions of a business owner

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xxavengingangelxx · 6 months

Text

Somewhere Only We Know 3/?

Part threeeee! I feel kind iffy about this one. Smurt starts so MDNI! 18+ I feel like the smut is not my best work but there will definitely be more smut in the future chapters :)

Taglist! @bellgraves, @unicorngirly1, @josieguts, @lily-lily131313, @shepgurl - if you'd like to be added, lemme know! ;)

Val feels like she has no choice but to return to Shadow Company for numerous reasons.

EDIT: Forgot to add! Q and A. Will Graves get more affectionate? I've gotten that question a LOOOT. Yes. But like all men he just found out and is a little overwhelmed 😉

You didn’t know how much time had passed when Price excused himself to take a phone call. Someone had called him three times back-to-back.

You knew who it was didn’t you?

Price wasn’t allowed to wander off very far. That small wing of the hospital you were in had been sealed off. No one enters or exits except for the police and the military.

Your suspicion was confirmed so were you really surprised when you heard Graves’s voice on the other end of that phone? Years of explosions and gunfire didn’t allow Price to turn the volume low enough that your younger, less exposed ears couldn’t pick it up. And because of how close the perimeter of that hospital wing was you heard every…word.

“Price,” Graves’s voice was tight, on-edge, dangerous and you wondered if someone had pissed him off right before.

“Graves,” Price spat back. “Was beginnin’ ta think Laswell had finally approved that airstrike you were nothin’ but ashes.”

“Haha,”

“Sorry,” Price added, “but I constant’ly fantasize about ya dying.”

“Knock this shit off,” Graves warned. “You have two people I’m interested in.” Graves paused before adding, “One I haven’t quite met yet.”

Price’s silence told you he was in shock.

Why did Graves sound so fucking terrifying today?

“Bloody ‘ell,” Price gasped. “How’d you—”

“I have eyes everywhere,” Graves said darkly. “A thing you might not know about southern culture, ya Brit. We like to keep our families together.”

“And you see Val as family? She’s not your wife ya fuckin’ psycho’.”

“No, she is. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

And you don’t know why that line made your breath catch in your throat. You knew Graves was obsessed with you but what exactly did he mean by that?

“You’re such a sick fuck,”

“Get her back to me.”

“I can’t override an arrest warrant,” Price shot back.

“Figure it out,” Graves snapped. “Or Makarov wins and World War III starts. I have the money and the connections to hide me and my family. Do you?”

You didn’t know you were still crying until the tears rolled down your face as a female soldier (no, not a police officer but a soldier) patted you down. The UK military was pissed enough to detain you because you’d released the codes to 141’s homing beacons. You had denied torture and refused to say anything against Graves or Shepherd. So they saw it as you betrayed 141 and willingly gave them up. You and Graves had worked together that night, hadn’t you? At least that’s what it looked like on the outside looking in. All the digging they’d done had revealed hushed secrets of how you two had been inappropriately involved with each other pretty much since you’d met.

You had mugshots taken for the first time in your life. They took pictures of every visible scar. You wondered why this wasn’t done at the detention facility and you were told it was in case you or someone who fancied you just happened to bust you out from the facility or even got to you before you even got there. So they’d have pictures of you to show the world and help re-capture you.

You were given a bulletproof vest because you’d made the news and had been labeled a traitor. You were loathed. There had been threats on your life. The news loves making people look horrible don’t they? You wondered if the news knew about your situation. Graves knew. And you really didn’t know how to feel about that. You couldn’t even get away from him by being arrested and detained.

You were never going to get away from Graves were you? You didn’t exactly hate it, though. But it also scared you, didn’t it?

You were chained like you were some outlaw (you kinda were though, weren’t you?). The fact that you could pick handcuffs and liked swing at authority figures had gotten around and so your cuffs were anchored to a chain around your waist. Not too tight. They didn’t want you, a sue-happy American, to sue them if you just so happened to lose that pregnancy.

“You’re really gonna let yourself get locked up instead of sayin’ somethin’, anythin’ against that son of a bitch?” Price asked.

“Just watch out for Graves and Shepherd, Captain,” you stated. “He might like me. But he won’t think twice about killing you. Make sure you and your boys stay safe.”

“You make it sound like you’re sacrificin’ yaself.”

“I can keep him distracted just enough.”

The sunlight was bright and it reminded you of how much you hated sunny days. The noise was overwhelming. News crews, people shouting at you, calling you a traitor. So you just glanced down, using your hair to hide your face. 141, for all you had done against them in the last 3 months, shielded you as best as they could.

Soap even pulled your hood over your head and you almost cried at the kindness of it. Also, pregnancy hormones.

It was cold.

You were about to be put into a military vehicle when a familiar voice, a demanding voice, told them to stop and turn around.

It was impossible to understand what was being said outside with all the noise. So you all went back inside, into the warmth of the hospital.

Granted you couldn’t move much. Cuffs anchored to your waist and leg irons. That thin bulletproof vest was tight on you, straps drawn snug. Graves indeed hadn’t been lying that they were going to treat you like a fucking prisoner, a good for nothing. And that was one of the reasons you kept your faith in Graves. You were weirdly bonded to him. You didn’t love him and you were sure he didn’t love you. But it seemed like you both were stuck together for the time being.

Maybe forever. You were obsessed. Maybe just as much as he was. Maybe a little less, though.

But the man here in person? General Shepherd.

“Graves told me what happened,” Shepherd stated. He removed his sunglasses.

“It’s none of yer business,” Price snapped.

“No, it is because she’s mine.”

“No, your Shadow piece o’ shit kidnapped ‘er. And now he’s fuckin’ stalkin’ her.”

“We had reason to believe she was collaborating with Hassan as she was the only one we found. Wandering all alone.” Shepherd paused before adding, “Like an abandoned puppy. That’s the term Graves used. And abandoned puppies need new homes, don’t they?”

Price full on growled. “Thas’ some bullshit excuse ya have. It won’t make sense on paper.”

“But it will,” Shepherd grinned that shit-eating grin he had. It was the same grin you imagined him having when Graves took that initial hostage video all those months ago. “And it did,”

Price was handed papers. What they said you couldn’t read. The print was too small.

“Val here was abandoned by her task force. We took her in, interrogated her, revealed she had nothin’ to hide.” Price signaled at the documents in Price’s hands, shaking with anger. “We did not, under any condition torture her.”

Shepherd looked at you, smirking before adding, “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“They didn’t hurt me,” you confirmed. You lied. You lied to protect Shepherd, Shadow Company, and most importantly, Graves. Something deep inside told you this would not be the last time lying for them. If this shit was brought to court or congress, you’d keep lying to protect Graves without a second thought.

“Val, ser’ously?” Price glared and if looks could kill, Shepherd would’ve died on the spot.

“She’s been with Shadows for 3 months. She’s mine now.” Shepherd demanded. “Hand ‘er over,”

“She’s not goin’ with ya,” Soap snapped. “Ya’ll done enough.”

“Don’t make me get my boys. You sure as fuck don’t want me getting Graves. He’s pissed. Has been. And when he’s mad he gets trigger happy.” Shepherd smirked. “Now go on ahead and get Graves’s little miss outta those cuffs. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. Don’t why ya’ll would treat a lady like that.”

“You’ve lost your mind…again, Gen’ral,” Price snapped. “She’s lookin’ at a court martial. US and UK want her here.”

“Let me put it in simpler terms for you,” That smirk never left Shepherd’s face. “Give me the girl. Give me my soldier or we all lose.”

“You don’t have to go with him,” Price muttered from next to you. “We can get a court to look at this,” He signaled at the pages which you still hadn’t bothered to try reading. “You have a choice,”

“I want Graves,” you said confidently.

The police officer, a new one, looked at Price, his gaze asking what he should do. Release, not release? Detain?

“You’re gonna go back to the company that fucked you up so bad you tried to kill ya’self?” Price paused before adding, “Is’ not jus’ about jus’ you anymore, Val. You have someone else to think about. Don’t do this.”

You shrugged. Because it really was. The bond you had with Graves was intense. Plus, you’d stay out of prison. You did have a child to think about. And the last fucking thing you wanted was you in prison in the UK, Graves in prison in the US, and your child in that horrible foster care system. You’d run before you let that happen.

“We’ll get them after all this, Val,” Price muttered so only you could hear. “They’ll rot in prison.”

“Release her. Now.” Shepherd demanded of the officer. “They’ve removed her AWOL status and transferred her to Shadow.”

“You better sleep with one eye open, mate,” were the last words Price said to Shepherd before you walked out of that hospital with said general free of restraints.

Shepherd didn’t say much in the truck. At least not at first. You rubbed your wrists because they cuffs on your wrists had been on too damn tight.

It was you and Shepherd. That was it. You wondered where Graves was. “You’ve done good work, soldier. Graves asked for you by name. Pulled a few strings and got this done because Graves is my best.”

You didn’t say a word. You’d thanked him earlier anyway. Well, that is except to ask, “Where’s Graves?”

“A safehouse,” Shepherd responded. “What’d you tell ‘em, soldier?”

“Nothing, sir.” You responded. “They threatened me with prison but I didn’t say shit. Respectfully.”

“We’ll pull the hospital records,”

“I’ve nothing to hide, sir.”

Shepherd paused before adding, “Don’t disappoint my top man,” Shepherd warned. “He’s gonna be your Shadow for the rest of your life. Told me he’s not letting you go.”

“No, sir. I won’t, sir.”

“He asks you to get on your knees, your response is how low, understand?”

“Yessir,” you felt like he was selling you to Graves.

“Ya ever thought about letting him fuck a kid into ya?”

Your head snapped to look in his direction next to you. Did he know?

“Would be nice to leave all this to family,” Shepherd stated simply. He saw you as something to be used. Was that why he’d said all those months ago he wanted you specifically working for them? A female? A female Shepherd knew Graves had a thing for?

Shepherd chuckled that cold laugh before adding, “I know ya’ll been fuckin’ since you met pretty much. He’s been obsessed with you.”

Was he kidding? And at that second something deep inside you told you Graves might like that you’re carrying his kid. There was no getting away from him now, was there? Even if you wanted to. Where the hell did you think you were going to hide with his kid?

“No offense, sir,” you replied after catching your breath, “That’s not why we—”

“That’s it’s God-given purpose,” he interrupted. “He’d be perfect.”

Who--? Hell, Shepherd was already obsessed with the kid and Shepherd didn’t even know the kid existed. Right? And you didn’t like that, not one bit.

“Product of two of my best soldiers, raised by Shadows, in the field.”

You weren’t sure if Shepherd took your ensuing silence as a form of defiance or as a form of acceptance.

You wished it was just you. Just you going back to Graves, no kid. But you were stuck now, weren’t you? You didn’t think your IUD would fail. But it did. You had less than a one percent chance of getting pregnant but here you were. And that was why you’d made that decision, amongst other reasons, sure. The decision to keep him. Him because you felt it was a boy.

Because maybe while you distracting Graves wasn’t enough, maybe you and his kid would distract Graves enough for him to leave 141 alone.

You just hated an innocent life was involved.

“Did you really raise that much hell?” Graves’s voice from behind you light a fire under your heart. He must’ve noticed your brief injuries.

“You told me to raise hell so I did,”

“Atta girl,” Graves smirked.

You couldn’t help it. You reached out and hugged him, gear and all.

And surprisingly?

He hugged back.

“Good ‘ta have you back,” Graves said, his voice tickling your hair as he rested his chin on your head.

You hoped into a hot shower the second you could. You scratched your skin raw trying to get those tape marks off your arms from when the hospital had started an IV sedated you that one day. You had tape marks all up and down your arms from all the times they’d drawn blood, marks around your wrists from the handcuffs and restraints.

“Don’t make yourself bleed, darlin,’” Graves chided. He’d been watching you through the clear glass shower door.

“I want it off,” you almost pouted.

He was naked when he joined you and you couldn’t help but eye him up and down shamelessly. He did the same to you. His eyes stopped on your breasts and on his favorite spot between your legs.

“They hurt you, didn’t they?”

His eyes lingered on the tape burn on your face from the duct tape pulled off your mouth three days ago. On the scrape your cheek showed after being yanked onto the ground face first when you hit a police officer in the face. And finally, to those scratch marks on your arms from trying to take the medical tape residue off.

You had indeed made yourself bleed.

“Only a little,” you contested.

“They’ll never have ya’ll again,” Graves promised.

And that confirmed he knew. He knew it wasn’t just you anymore.

You got on your toes. The hot water had you both sweating. Your hair was in loose curls over your shoulders and his blonde hair falling over his forehead. His hair almost looked light brown when it was wet and hanging on his forehead. Your lips met his briefly before he pressed his lips onto yours, his tongue sweeping your mouth possessively. You raised your hands to his shoulders, to the nape of his neck, the strong stinging pain of scratch mark wounds forgotten.

He placed two strong hands on your hips before gripping your ass and effortlessly lifting you. You, out of habit, wrapped your legs around his waist. He pressed you onto the cold tile behind you, making you gasp and hiss and arch your back.

When you arched your back, you felt him, hot and thick and hard, at your entrance.

“That desperate are we?”

You gave him a lustful glare and an exasperated huff while he scoffed in response.

Graves ran his teeth just along your jawline, making you moan. You caught yourself and reminded yourself to be quiet. This was a safehouse, not a black site. It meant noise traveled through the walls like they weren’t there. It wasn’t like back on base where the walls were concrete. And absorbed all the sound.

“We’re alone,”

You moaned more at his words.

“Lick my fingers,” Graves commanded. He had you pinned against the wall, his hot, thick cock just touching your entrance. You mewled, trying to get him inside you.

So you obeyed. You ran your hot tongue over his fingers as he held them in front of your face.

“Show me how you’re gonna take me,” Graves added in a low growl.

Graves suddenly released you and your knees almost gave out.

You wanted him. You needed him.

“On your knees,”

You obeyed instantly. You fucking loved that despite your delicate situation he was still willing to insert at least a little dominance in the bedroom.

Without him asking you to, you took his hard length into your mouth.

Graves gasped and moaned, throwing his head back and catching his hair in the hot spray of the shower.

It wasn’t long before Graves was on top of you, in bed. You were both still drenched from the shower but it wasn’t like either of you cared. You’d started sucking him off and after pulling you off of him he’d started to work his fingers inside of you before he’d abruptly cut off the water.

Now here you were, drenched hair sprawled out behind you while Graves had bruising grips on your thighs as you felt him mercilessly use his lips, teeth, and tongue to taste you.

You felt like you needed him to totally own you. To take your mind off that burning pain from where you’d scratched yourself so hard you’d cut yourself open earlier, from what you’d learned from your hospital stay, from all the shit you’d been through. So you said those key words…the key words that let him know you wanted him to fuck you almost into unconsciousness, that gave him permission to leave marks on you.

“Graves, show me who I belong to,”

But to your surprise?

“No,” came the growled reply from between your legs.

“What?” you glanced down and the sight that met you almost made you gasp. Graves, his hands still grasping your thighs, his pupils wide with lust, his chin damp from your arousal, his hair sticking to his damp forehead.

You wondered if maybe you tasted differently. Could he taste that he completely owned you, marked you forever? You were carrying his child. How much more could he own you?

“No, Val,” Graves repeated, his gaze not leaving yours. “Tonight I’m just gonna relearn every fucking inch of your body.”

So after he’d edged you twice and finally let you cum on his lips, he was finally inside you.

And that’s when time seemed to slow down. It felt like you had been apart from Graves your months when in reality it had been a few days. You wondered if this is what addiction felt like. Every time he moved inside you it was like you both moaned in unison. You heard him say something but you couldn’t quite decipher it. Your brain was jelly.

You could feel yourself getting close and he would stop. You whined at the feeling. You wanted to beg him to continue, to fuck you until you couldn’t talk, couldn’t walk.

But every time you’d open your mouth to beg, he’d seal it with his own. And you’d feel him smile, chuckle. The bastard knew what he was doing. So instead of getting rough, he was edging you. He was relearning you and ensuring himself he still knew every inch of you by making sure his cock reached so deep inside you until it could go no further.

“Say my name,” finally came the command. Apparently your ears had stopped working because you knew that tone of voice. Graves had had to repeat this command more than once.

“Fuck me, Graves,” you gasped as his hips stuttered, making your insides flutter.

Graves talked again, but you had trouble hearing him over your own moans and filthy words begging him

Fuck you harder.

Graves grabbed your shoulders and shook you hard enough to get your attention. Not nearly as hard as when he’d fucked you before you were ‘rescued’ by 141. There was a gentleness to his motions that he’d never shown before and you wondered why. Before reminding yourself: you’re pregnant. He was still buried inside you and you arched your back, trying to get him deeper into you.

“Say my full name,”

So that’s exactly what you did.

You said his full name, Phillip Graves, as you came a second time, this time around his cock and felt as his thrusts got sloppy and rough and hard while he came undone inside of you.

End notes: This is gonna get soooo complicated! :o

#phillip graves #cod mw2 #cod mwii #phillip graves x reader #graves x reader #john soap mactavish #mw2 141 #ghost cod #cod mw3 #cod makarov #longwayfromhome #somewhere only we know

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sirianasims · 4 months

Text

Chapter 26

Love Me Anyway

“Welcome back, Eric, doctor Holland is ready to see you.”

“Thank you, mr. Holland.”

“Hello, Eric. How have you been doing since last time? You’re still staying sober?”

“Yeah. I think I’m doing pretty well, actually. I mean, it’s still rough sometimes, but I mostly struggle when I’m alone for too long. And my neighbours check up on me regularly and invite me over for dinner, and my parents call me at least twice a week.”

“That’s good. And the antidepressants seem to be working too – do you want to try lowering the dose a little?”

“I don’t know… actually, no. It doesn’t feel… safe. Not yet. I really don’t want to relapse.”

“Understandable. We won’t touch them yet, then. How’s your daughter?”

“Oh, Freya’s great! She’s doing well in school, she plays football and basketball and wants to go back to Mt. Komorebi so she can snowboard again. But the best thing is, I just finished renovating the house – and she got a new bedroom!”

“Her mother and I finally agreed that I’m doing well enough that she’s comfortable with Freya living with me every other weekend.”

“That’s wonderful news, Eric! I’m happy for you. You deserve it, you’ve worked very hard in the last year. What about your job then?”

“Well, I’m still running the clinic alone, and it’s hard, but it also means I’m too exhausted to lie awake for too long at night, so I guess that’s positive. I’m still debating whether to hire a nurse or a vet. But I promise that it will be a man either way.”

“Good. I don’t usually approve of hiring someone based on gender, but I don’t think it’s wise for you to be working too closely with women just yet. You still have some work to do.”

“I know. It gets lonely, though. I mean, I haven’t… been intimate with anyone for almost a year now. Not since the vacation to Mt. Komorebi.”

“I know. And I’m no stranger to mixing love and work – after all, my husband is my receptionist. But until you’ve dealt with your tendency to use sex as a distraction, I think it’s better this way. Have you given some thought to what we talked about last time, about figuring out what you really want?”

“I’m trying. It’s just… I thought I already knew, right? I had everything planned out since I was a teenager, so there was never any doubt or insecurity to deal with. And then I met Katherine and suddenly my carefully planned future looked completely impossible. I felt lost.”

“You were still able to graduate and start a vet clinic, though. That was part of your plan, right?”

“Yes, but it just didn’t… quite live up to my expectations, I guess? My plans hadn’t involved Freya or her mother at all, so everything felt wrong. And I couldn’t even bond with my daughter at first, it was horrible. I didn’t know how to deal with it, I just tried to escape it all like a coward.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Eric. You were only 23, you had a lot to deal with, and postpartum depression in men is woefully under-diagnosed, I’m afraid. But now that you’re doing better, what are your long-term goals? What do you want out of life? What about finding love?”

“Love?”

“Yes, love! I’m not going to force you to be celibate forever, Eric. So what do you want? Do you want to fall in love? Do you want to get married? Have more children?”

“I… yes? I think I do. I’ve just tried not to think about it, not since – I had an ex once, we really had something special but we broke up when we went to different universities. Then one day she came into my clinic, and I remembered how I always wanted to find true love and get married and all that. But I’d just had Freya at the time, and… things turned out differently.”

“Eric, listen. You’re what, 31 now? Take it from me, I’m twice your age, and your life is far from over. You have plenty of time to fall in love again, get married, have as many children as you want.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Well, that’s all for today, Eric. Keep working on your goals. I’ll see you in two weeks, and remember – no women, no booze.”

“No women, no booze. Thanks, doctor Holland.”

“Same time in two weeks, Eric?”

“That’d be great, mr. Holland. Thank you.”

I left feeling strange. I often felt relieved or exhausted after a therapy session, but this time I felt… excited? Scared? Maybe a bit of both. I hadn’t allowed myself to even consider getting into a relationship for a long time.

Was I even able to fall in love? I loved my parents and my daughter, but I couldn’t even imagine romantic love any longer.

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen3 #eric duchelli #freya duchelli #this boy needs so much therapy #like so much

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dessarious · 10 months

Text

Old Scars and New Beginnings Pt104

Beginning Previous

"You are not letting my granddaughter run off into danger!" Gina's voice kept getting louder and Rolland honestly looked like he was about to explode. This was going about as well as Bruce thought, but at least no one had thrown anything at him yet.

"You're right, I'm not. I'm making sure she's protected when she does." They didn't seem to know how to respond to that. "Marinette has been given an extremely heavy burden to bear and there's nothing you or I can do about that. All I can do is train her to the best of my ability and make sure she doesn't have to face anything alone."

"Who was hurt in that altercation with the Joker?" Not the question he expected, and he blinked at Gina for a moment while trying to decide how to answer. It really was Mari's information to share, but he didn't want her to have to go through it again. He pulled out his phone. "It's a simple question."

"It is, but I want to ask Marinette if she's comfortable with me sharing the answer. The Miraculous are her responsibility, and I know there are some things she'd rather share herself, or possibly not share at all." That got a small hum of approval.

~They're asking about some things related to the Miraculous. How much are you comfortable with me sharing?

Mari~Whatever you think is best, but if you don't want to answer, I can answer them later.

The answer he got back from Mari made him frown. She was going back to relying on other people's judgment again, and it was worrisome. In this case though, it was probably best that Gina and Rolland get most of it out of their systems.

"Syd is the fox holder. It was her first time out and she didn't have a solid grasp on her powers. It's one of the reasons I haven't had any of them out on patrol since. Mari has already been beating herself up non stop for the incident, so I'd appreciate you not asking her about it specifically."

"That girl takes too much on herself." Rolland's voice was softer than he'd heard it, and Gina just seemed to wilt.

"She does, and that's something we're trying to work on. It will honestly be a great help for her to not have to lie or be careful around you, which is why we're having this conversation. She's convinced that her lies about her hero work in Paris are what led to her parents abandoning her."

"Them not having faith in the child they raised caused that. There was nothing she could have done to prevent it. I lost my son because of my own stubborn pride. I won't lose my granddaughter." Having had his own issues with his children, Bruce felt for the man.

"What exactly are you asking of us?" Gina sounded so drained. He knew she blamed herself for not being present while everything was happening in Paris. He held up his hands.

"Marinette needs a loving and supportive environment. All I ask is that you try to keep any negative comments to a minimum. I'm trying to build her confidence back up and she takes criticism far too much to heart. I don't mean that you can't express concerns, just try to be gentle about it." They were both nodding along as he spoke, which was a relief. "That's why I wanted to introduce all of this to you first, so that you can get some of the immediate reactions out of the way before you speak to Mari."

"That was probably wise. My brashness has caused enough problems for my Fairy. Is this why you decided to get custody of her?" The question was surprisingly mild. He would have expected suspicion.

"No, though it did make me even more grateful that I did. When I found out her parents were planning on sending her to an institution for criminals the next time she stepped outside the rules they'd put in place, I could not let that happen."

"Excuse me?!" Well, they must not have mentioned that. Gina took to muttering under her breath, but Rolland just looked defeated.

"I should have pushed them more when they said she was too busy to visit. I just didn't want to force her if she didn't want to see me."

"They lied to you?" Mari's voice startled all of them. She was standing in the doorway, looking like her world had just crumbled. Again. When they all just stared at her, she shrunk in on herself. "I didn't mean to interrupt, I just heard yelling and..."

"It's fine Mari, we just weren't expecting you so soon." Bruce kept his voice soft and waved her into the room. She hesitated for a moment, but Rolland looked so heartbroken she ended up moving to hug him. Gina moved to run her fingers through Mari's hair.

"You'll find as you go through life that everyone is a hypocrite at some point, my Fairy. It may only be little things, or it can be almost everything they say and do. Sometimes, it hurts other people, and sometimes themselves. I've yet to meet anyone who escapes from it entirely." Bruce could only wince at Gina's observation.

"I'm sorry. I should have tried harder so they-"

"You did nothing wrong." Rolland pulled back to give Mari a stern look. "Those two tried to mold you into what they wanted instead of letting you become who you are. The second they decided you were bad for their image, they tried to force you back into the box they've been trying to get you in your whole life. The fact that they didn't question the things people were saying about you shows how little they know or care about you as the person you are."

Bruce had to cringe at the bluntness and sent up a prayer that it wouldn't cause Mari to regress again. Did he agree with Rolland? Yes, absolutely. He just didn't think Mari was ready to hear it. For her part, Marinette just frowned at the floor. He had no idea what was going through her mind, but she seemed to be thinking rather than panicking. Gina looked like she wanted to throttle Rolland.

"Who was I supposed to be?" She sounded so small and confused. Gina pulled Mari into a hug.

"You are who you're supposed to be. Parents have a tendency to put all their own wants and fears directly on their children. Think about Adrien. They way Gabriel always tried to mold him into the perfect image for his brand. Tom and Sabine were more subtle about it, certainly, but they did the same to you. You were supposed to be their achievement, but that's not how things work. They were bound to be disappointed because there was no way you would turn out exactly how they wanted. No child would. That's not your fault either. Especially since I'm pretty sure they weren't even certain what they wanted you to be."

"So... they were mad that I didn't turn out the way they wanted, but they didn't know what they wanted instead?" Bruce couldn't tell if her reasoning through this instead of just breaking down was a good thing or not.

"That's basically it. For a long time, they didn't have to think about what they wanted you to be, because you were so talented and smart. Everyone always praised and complemented you. When people started complaining about you, I think it shattered their image of you. The fact that it did proves how little they actually know you, as opposed to what they gain from you."

"So, if people stop complaining about me, they'll love me again?" Gina hugged Mari tighter and went off in a tirade in Italian. As much as that logic was purely Marinette, it was still beyond depressing.

"They don't deserve you." Rolland's voice was firm, and Mari just blinked at him. His expression turned bleak. "No parent deserves a child they're willing to throw away." Mari pulled away from Gina to hug him again. Bruce suddenly felt extremely unnecessary. He managed to get up and make it to the door without anyone really noticing. He thought Gina may have, but wasn't certain.

"Is everything aright?" He should have expected Selina to be lurking, and Damian was right behind her. He was honestly surprised more of them weren't in the hallway. Then again, the rest were probably watching cameras somewhere.

"They just need some time alone."

"Did they agree to the safety protocols?" Damian's voice was demanding, and Bruce sighed.

"We didn't get that far, but I doubt it will be an issue." That produced a scowl. "They aren't going to leave before we discuss everything. Mari needs this." She needed to know that her grandparents weren't going to turn on her just because of the Miraculous.

"Fine." He walked off, and Bruce could only roll his eyes. He had a feeling that Damian's feeling of being responsible for Marinette transferred to her grandparents, too. That or he considered them necessary to keeping her properly safe.

"How did they take everything?" Selina brought him back to the current situation.

"Honestly, better than I would have expected. They're mad at me, of course, but they're mostly worried about Mari. They both feel like they failed her, so she comes by that honestly." Selina was just frowning at the door.

"Tim and Babs think they may have found a meeting place for the upper members of the cult. Still haven't found anything to indicate the League is actually in Gotham, though." Bruce blinked at the subject change, then scowled. There's no way they were funding an organization without oversite. They were definitely trying to stay under the radar. They were going to have to dig deeper.

"From now on, no one leaves the manor alone. Preferably, never without two other people." Given that they were talking about the league, it was better to be over cautions. "We need to get eyes and ears in that warehouse, discreetly."

"They already sent Cass." He let out a breath. That was good. She'd know how to judge where everything would pick up the most. Wait...

"Just Cass?"

"Nooroo and Wayzz went with her." It was still odd to think of the Kwami as backup, but that was his life now. "Bruce, have you thought about having Gina and Rolland stay here until this situation is dealt with?" She really liked subject hopping today.

"If they're here, they're a bigger target. It makes more sense to let them stay where they are so that Talia or whoever she sent doesn't have more of a reason to go after them. I'll make sure they're properly protected, Selina." Her expression softened, and she raised a hand to his cheek.

"I wasn't questioning that. It just... feels wrong to spread out right now. I don't know why." One more thing to ask Mari about. After her insight on Damian, he wasn't about to just let things like this go anymore. If he was lucky, this was just Selina being worried about Syd being out of sight, despite being the one to suggest she go in the first place.

"We'll talk about it with everyone. No point making any decisions without everyone on the same page. We should probably see if Harley and Ivy are planning on stopping by tonight." The last thing they needed was everyone arguing instead of doing their jobs.

"You've changed since Mari came." He frowned at her. "It looks good on you."

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#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #bruce wayne #gina dupain #rolland dupain #Selina Kyle #Damian Wayne #good dad bruce wayne

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slutforstabbings-archive · 1 year

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Clean Again

Chapter 5: THE LONG LIST read on AO3 | previous chapter | tumblr chapter index make sure to check AO3 for this fic's playlist and other extras!

Corey comes to fix Reader's sewing machine.

general warnings for this fic - angst, fluff, eventual smut (MDNI), canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore contents/warnings for this chapter - alcohol consumption, stalking

4,237 words

@rebel-blue @heartrot666 @wolvesandvampires @cordelium @toxicanonymity @multifandom--mess @hersweetrevenge @futurewife @yllcm @ethanhoewke dm me or reply to this post to be added to the list💕

You stand in the living room, slowly rotating in a circle. Evaluating. Your eye lands on a candle and you lunge forward to light it. Then you step back and think. Too romantic. You blow it out. Another thought occurs to you and you run to the bathroom. You tear down the hand towel on the bar over the counter and stuff a new one into it. You tidy the bunched up fabric, but not too much. The kitchen! You sprint to the sink and dump out the mesh trap you keep in the drain. You dash back to the bathroom and apply a spritz of perfume down the inside of your shirt.

Corey’s coming over tonight.

Yesterday Veronica asked you to meet up for coffee before work. You arrived at the cafe across from the record store and found her at a little table on the patio. Before you could even pull a chair out to sit down, she was demanding information. All you had texted her on Monday night was a message mimicking hers.

“Oh my god, spill!” She exclaimed excitedly.

“He’s gonna fix my sewing machine.” You said with a laugh.

“What does that mean?” Veronica gave you an exaggerated scandalized look.

“My literal sewing machine. It’s been jammed for weeks. I can’t figure it out. But he’s a mechanic or something? I’m not really sure, but he knows machine things and he’s coming over tomorrow to fix it.”

“That’s your first date?” She said, amused.

“Well, I’m also gonna make him dinner.”

“Oh my god, cooking on the first date? You slut!” Veronica slapped your hand playfully and you both laughed. “What are you making him?”

“I don’t know yet! He said anything is fine except spaghetti. I wanna pick something kinda simple cause I know I’m gonna be super nervous. I gotta look at what I have in the house.”

“So how did the conversation go? How did you wind up asking him to fix your sewing machine?”

“The first time I saw him was in the like, technical hobby aisle. I was getting books about sewing machine maintenance because I thought I could figure it out on my own. I haven't gotten anywhere 'cause I keep getting scared I'm just gonna irreparably fuck the machine if I do it on my own. I saw him on that aisle again and I just said ‘Do you know anything about sewing machines?’” She didn't need to know you'd chased after him, even if you kind of felt like he'd wanted you to. You know she would not approve.

“Your opening line was ‘Do you know anything about sewing machines?’” She asked, incredulous. You nodded your head. “I cannot believe that worked.”

“Me neither,” you admitted.

“He’s a mechanic or something? That’s sexy.”

“Yeah,” you squeaked, covering your face.

“Mr. Library, the sexy mechanic. You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

“Of course!” You reassured her. “Actually, I was planning to text you like, right before he gets there and after he leaves, like, for safety.”

“You fucking better, or I will come over there, guns blazing,” Veronica said. “What’s his name?”

“Corey.”

“Corey,” Veronica purred. The two of you burst into giggles like you used to in the back of class in high school.

You stand in front of the mirror on your dresser now, putting earrings in and taking them out. You want to look put together, like you tried, like you care. You also don’t want to go overboard. He’s just going to be fixing your sewing machine. But it’s more than just fixing your sewing machine. You haven’t been on any dates since you broke things off with Hurley. You’re already so infatuated with Corey it scares you. You just want things to go well. You’re not sure you can handle it if they don’t.

You go back out into the rest of the apartment, making sure it’s clean in the right way. Tidy without being sterile or stuffy. You pull the blanket down off the back of the couch, then toss it back up, so it doesn’t look so manicured. You flip through your records, looking for something to play, or at least to put on your little easel so it looked like you had been listening to it. You don’t know what kind of music he likes, so it seems fruitless.

It doesn’t matter now anyway. You can hear someone walking up the gravel path. He’s here. You text Veronica, hitting send just as there’s a knock on the door.

You open the door and you’re instantly taken aback by his beauty, the same way you were the first time you saw him. He looks great. He’s dressed in the simple way it seems like he always is, but it suits him so well, and you’ve never seen him in a sweater before. The way it hangs off his broad, round shoulders entices you to wonder about his body, so you look up at his face instead. His eyes, surrounded by halos of lashes, his pillowy lips. You feel your chest flushing.

“Come in, make yourself at home. You can take your shoes off if you want, or whatever you’re comfortable with,” you say, stepping behind the door to let him in.

“Oh, thanks,” he says. His work boots clatter to the wooden floor. You close the door awkwardly behind him.

Your phone goes off extremely loudly. Both of you jump. You had the volume turned up so you could hear if he called or texted while you were preparing for him to come over, but now the sound is deafening.

“Sorry, it’s just my friend checking in. She’s nervous about you coming over, 'cause you could be a serial killer or something.” You try to make a face that indicates it’s a joke, but for a split second he looks at you with something cold and hard in his face, and you remember the fear you felt in the library the first time you made eye contact. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck, but his face is already soft again and you manage a smile.

“Sewing machine’s in here,” you say as you lead him to the dining room. "I don’t know if you need them but the books I got from the library are right next to it. Can I get you something to drink? I have water, tea, beer…?” Corey just shakes his head and sits down in front of the machine. “Okay, let me know if you need anything. I gotta put the water on for dinner.”

You scamper into the kitchen. You pull out all the pots and pans you’ll need, using the water running into the pot for the pasta to cover the deep breaths you’re taking to try to steady yourself. He said no spaghetti, but that other pasta was fine. But is it fine? Should you make something else? You double check that your phone is on vibrate before sending Veronica another text.

Then you go back into the dining room.

Corey has a screwdriver kit you didn’t notice him bring in, all different shapes and sizes including ones you've never seen before. He’s already got the machine split down the middle, a neat little pile of screws in the lid of his tool set. You watch him silently for a second. He has one of your reference books open to a diagram you’d tried several times to understand. He shows no signs of confusion. He doesn’t acknowledge that you’ve come back into the room, so you clear your throat quietly.

“Do you want company or do you need to be alone to focus?”

Corey waves you over. You grab a dining chair and place it closer to him before sitting down. He glances up at you briefly, then goes back to his work. You sit there with your hands clasped in your lap, watching him. At first you feel super awkward. You still kind of can’t believe this is happening. That you saw him more than once, that asking him to fix your sewing machine worked, that he’s here, in your dining room. But as you watch his skillful hands remove piece after piece, working with quiet determination, you settle down. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. When you hear the water start to boil, you resent having to go back in the kitchen instead of getting to watch him longer. Then you remember what Veronica said yesterday morning.

“Oh my god, cooking on the first date? You slut!” That makes you smile. It is slutty, in its own way, doing something for him that other people might reserve for later in the relationship. Performing an intimate and domestic act for a stranger. You’ve never let a man know where you live without hanging out somewhere else first before, you’ve never had a man in this apartment at all. You’re breaking all your rules for him. It's scary, but the rules didn't protect you last time anyway. Might as well see what happens if you do things differently.

By the time you have a free moment away from the stove again, Corey is reassembling the machine. There’s a mound of dust and little fabric scraps on the table.

“Is this what was wrong with it?” You indicate the dust bunny, embarrassed.

“Yep,” Corey says simply.

“Damn, I thought I kept it pretty clean,” you say, trying to defend yourself even though Corey doesn’t seem to be judging.

“It’s the machine’s fault. You can’t clean where I pulled this from without opening the whole thing up. Bad design.” He shrugs.

“Oh. Thanks for fixing it.” You sweep the dust bunny into your hand and drop it into the trash can. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“It smells good,” he says quietly.

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

Riding here, the road rumbling under him, Corey tried to prepare himself for your questions. He knew you would want to try to get to know him. When the guys at work ask questions about his life, he gives half answers if they're persistent. If they seem like they would let it go, he just grunts. No one can find plot holes in the revised version of his life if he never shares it with anyone. But he knew that wouldn’t work with you. And if he was going to do this, whatever this was, he had to let you in, at least a little.

He was grateful you seemed happy to watch him work on the sewing machine in relative silence. Being able to do something with his hands helped him calm down. But now that diner is on the table, it’s time to talk, and his anxiety creeps up on him. He tries to push it down with the beer you brought him. Your cooking is surprisingly delicious. He regrets being too uncomfortable to really enjoy it. Hopefully next time, he catches himself thinking. If there is a next time.

“So you’re a car mechanic? Or are you like, an appliance mechanic? It wasn’t clear the other day.”

“Both,” he takes the beer bottle from his lips to say. “I work at a garage, and I repair old electronics and appliances to sell just for myself. You mend clothes?”

“Oh that’s my little side business. I also work at Plymouth Records, downtown. The mechanic thing is so cool. How did you get into that?”

It’s gonna be a long night, Corey thinks, wanting to do this to be close to you, but already feeling the wear of talking this much for the first time in so long.

“I was gonna go to college for engineering, but…” he trails off, scared to give you more information than that.

“But college.” You finish the sentence, making a face. “I dropped out too.”

“What were you studying before you dropped out?” He asks. He feels so relieved to hear you didn’t finish college either. He hopes the circumstances of your departure were much less traumatic than his, but it feels good to have a thing like that in common. It’s been so long since he felt like he had anything in common with anyone.

You laugh ruefully and it surprises him to hear the edge in your voice. “I had so many majors. I wasn’t in college because I had something I wanted to study. I was in college because it’s where I was ‘supposed to’ be.”

Corey wants to say something meaningful to that. He can’t imagine not wanting to go to college. He’d hung all his hopes on it before the thing with Jeremy. It was his ticket out. But he understands suffocating under other people’s expectations. Doing things, not because you want to, but to avoid the consequences if you don’t. He’s done that his whole life, with the exception of one glorious and horrific week. He couldn’t possibly get into it, so he settles from solemn nod.

“Where are you from?” You ask.

“Illinois,” Corey says, then immediately regrets it. He doesn’t want to lie, but he could be less specific.

“Oh yeah? I could tell you weren’t no southern boy,” you say, exaggerating your subtle accent. “Where at in Illinois?”

“Not a town you’ve heard of.” He hopes against hope that that’s the truth. His manslaughter trial didn’t make huge waves, but it had definitely made the rounds on social media nationally, and there was the podcast that nurse had mentioned. Michael Myers’ massacres, and his own, were probably much bigger headlines. Front page maybe even. He had killed nine people that week. He had no way to even estimate how many Michael had done beyond the two he’d been there for. That had to make the front page nationally. Or trend on Twitter, or something. But he couldn’t be sure. He’d avoided the news studiously since he left.

“What brought you here?”

That, Corey can answer truthfully. Vaguely, but truthfully. “It was hell living there. I couldn’t wait to get out,” he says. “What about you?”

“I’m from here,” you say. “I was gone for a few years, but I wound up crawling back.”

The conversation lulls. Corey is thankful that you allow it to. Mixed feelings roil inside him. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have accepted dinner if he was going to help you, and he shouldn’t have helped you. His cover will be blown, he’ll go to prison. He’ll be sentenced to death, but he won’t ever die. He’ll just wither immortally in a cell, watching all the other killers be walked to their waiting KFC.

And yet, it’s so nice to talk to someone. To put on a front and pretend to be normal. To get to know a pretty girl. He lies to himself every day that it doesn’t hurt. That he likes being alone. That even with his mother breathing down his neck his whole childhood, he was always really alone, and his complete isolation is just the logical conclusion of things. The way he was born to live.

Of course none of that is true. He remembers the way he felt about the Allens before the accident with Jeremy. How he’d hoped someday he could experience a love like the one they had, before he destroyed it.

Then there’s you. Rubbing your finger around the rim of your glass in mock-absentmindedness. Pretending not to look at him, but studying him intently. You texted your friend just in case the man you invited into your home was a murderer. He is. But you’re safe with him, at least right now. He thinks about the way you caught him in the library. And again he feels aroused at the idea that you’re a hunter too. He wonders if you could survive an encounter with Michael, if you have the fight in you like Laurie did. He finishes his beer.

“You’re a good cook,” he says, breaking the silence.

You give him The Smile . “Thank you! I was worried it was too similar to spaghetti.”

“I might actually eat your spaghetti.”

“You should be so lucky,” you reply, laughing. You’re flirting. He’s flirting, and you’re flirting back. He almost can’t believe it.

The rest of the evening is easier for Corey. He relaxes just a little. When it’s time for him to go, you walk outside with him. You stand out there in your sock feet with no jacket even though it’s a chilly night. Your eyes light up when you see his motorcycle.

“Is this what you drive all the time?” You ask.

“Yeah. Do you like motorcycles?”

“Uh, I think so? I’ve never ridden one.” You step closer to it.

Corey almost offers to give you a ride, but he hesitates, thinking of Allyson. The only other person he’d ever ridden with. Will giving you a ride lock you into her fate?

“I might be scared to ride it, honestly. As lame as that is,” you say, letting him off the hook.

“It’s not lame. My dad died in a motorcycle accident when I was little,” Corey says, surprising himself by sharing so easily.

“And you still ride this thing everywhere?” You raise your eyebrows in exaggerated disbelief.

“I don’t have the best sense of self-preservation,” he confesses.

A smirk curls your lips. Corey can see you realizing the shy, reserved boy you’d spent the evening with might have an edge to him. You have no idea how sharp that edge is.

“Let me know if there’s anything else you need fixed,” he says, straddling the bike and putting his helmet on.

“Do you want the long list or the short list?” You say sarcastically.

“The long list. Text it to me.” Corey’s bike roars to life. You laugh and shake your head. “I’m serious!” He shouts over the rumble of the engine.

You reach out and put your hand on the top of his helmet. Then you walk back to your door, turning around to wave at him before you go inside. He waves back, and watches you disappear into your apartment. When he can't see you anymore he rides away.

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

As you close the door, you let out a little excited sound. You can’t help but squeal. Things went so well! You send the all clear text to Veronica as you make your way to the kitchen, not even annoyed that you have to clean up. Corey had been so nice, scraping both plates and putting them in the sink. You’re touched by the small gesture of respect. You reach into the basin and, without really thinking about it, you pick his fork up off his plate and put it into your mouth. You stand there for a second before you catch yourself. You pull the fork from your mouth and laugh out loud at yourself as you load the dishwasher.

After that’s done you bring a glass of water into the bedroom and set it and your phone on your nightstand. You want to text Corey and tell him thank you for such a lovely evening, but you don’t want to come across as clingy. You tell yourself you’ll decide after you do your nighttime routine. The water barely spurts out of the faucet in your bathroom. You struggle to get your toothbrush clean under the unimpressive flow, and it takes forever for your cupped hands to fill with water to splash on your face.

When you come back into the bedroom, skin moisturized and hair braided, the decision of how soon to text Corey has been made for you.

A little heart appears over your last message. His transparent attempt to have reasons to come back over charms you. As if you wouldn’t just invite him because you like him. You smile as you tuck yourself into bed.

Your bedroom door is crooked and sticks closed, so Corey takes it down and glues a bunch of toothpicks into the screw holes, then when the glue is dry, he saws them flush before he hangs the door back up.

Some of your outlets are loose, the weight of the cord pulls the plug halfway out as soon as you let go. The two of you check every outlet in the whole apartment, plugging things in and watching them slip back out, putting stickers on the ones that suck. Next time he comes over he flips all the switches in your breaker box. The two of you crawl around in the dark as he replaces each stickered outlet, you holding a flashlight steady for him. It feels strangely intimate, and you both speak in whispers, leaning in to be heard.

The light bulb in your closet is burnt out and your high ceilings keep it out of reach, even on the step stool you keep around. Corey stacks your dining chairs under the bare bulb and climbs the precarious pile.

“Be careful,” you warn him from outside the closet. He scoffs and holds his hand out for the new light bulb.

“There’s a spider in here,” he says when the light comes on.

“Cool,” you say. “Is it poisonous?”

“Um… I’m not a spider expert. It’s just a regular spider, I think.”

“Just leave it,” you instruct.

“You don’t want me to kill it?” His muffled voice sounds surprised.

“It’s not hurting anything. If that’s where it wants to be, I’m not gonna stop it.” He gives you a confused look when he jumps down from the chair stack. “Are you judging me?” You ask.

“Never. I’m just… impressed.”

“I have a soft spot for maligned creatures,” you explain.

When you’re not with Corey, he’s always on your mind. You’ve started hearing motorcycles everywhere. Whenever you hear one rumbling along, you think of him, and say a quick prayer to no one for the rider’s safety.

He’s smart. He seems scared to make jokes, like he doesn’t think he’s funny, but there’s a dark edged humor to him that surprises you pleasantly every time. When you talk it feels like he really listens, like he’s taking notes.

Something very bad happened to him. You’ve noticed the scars on his hand and his throat, but the sense that he’s been through something awful comes equally from how extremely guarded he always seems. His reservation is the very thing that reduces yours. You’ve been emotionally unavailable for what feels like forever. You think of all the times you ended things after one or two stiff little dates. Corey’s hesitance makes him feel like someone safe.

And he’s just so goddamn pretty. Sometimes you have to look away because it feels like gazing at the sun.

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

It’s not a complete coincidence that you’ve started hearing motorcycles more often, not only an illusion of increased frequency.

Corey hadn’t let himself follow you home from the library the other day, but finding the same strength now isn’t always easy. In the evenings after work, on his days off, whenever he’s not busy and he’s not with you, he wonders where you are and what you’re doing. He makes himself work on a project, scrub a circuit board with rubbing alcohol and a q-tip. But inevitably he gets antsy.

His bike carves across town. He passes your apartment, he cuts through the parking lot behind the record store, he lurks across the street from your favorite mom and pop grocery. He’s been going to the library more than ever before. Your habit of texting while walking irritates him, but he always softens a little when he feels his phone vibrate. He makes sure you get home safe on nights you stumble out of a dive bar and into a taxi with Veronica and Rose. A time or two he’s left you a little present, dropping a flower from a nearby tree onto your passenger seat through your barely open window. When he sees a meter maid writing you a ticket he runs over and stops her, putting all the coins in his pocket into the machine to buy you more time.

When he’s with you he’s still nervous, putting a lot of effort into every conversation, always desperate for you to give him The Smile . It still hurts, wrenching the air from his lungs. And it still feels like sinking into a warm bath at the end of a long day. He feels a foreign sensation in your presence: joy.

The guilt however, is familiar and well worn. The thoughts about Allyson, that he had failed to keep her safe, that he had walked away after promising he wouldn’t. It just gets a shiny new coat of paint. He should stay away from you. What if he implicates you, contaminates you. Is he putting you in legal danger by getting close to you? Or physical danger? And is he disrespecting Allyson’s memory? You’ve already gotten more time with him than she ever will. Is that good or bad? How can he keep you from ending up like her?

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #halloween ends #fan fic #mine #cc

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fanfictasia · 4 months

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Whumpuary Prompt 6

Exhaustion

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Nighttime Fear

Hunter heads outside, settling on the Marauder’s ramp to just… think. Brood, really. He was afraid this would happen. Of course, Crosshair’s primary mission is to come after them. That’s strategic. He knows everything about them.

He must know how much they’re hurting, too. Does he feel the same, or is he entirely lost in his anger?

He’s still sitting there when the others finally show up again. Ahsoka’s first, seating herself beside him on the stairs. “Tech told us what happened,” she says, “I’m sorry to hear that. I know what it means to want to just walk away from the fight.”

“Anakin said you always have,” he says, though he can’t even imagine it. The Clone Wars is why he and his brothers were made. Hunter can’t imagine a life outside of fighting. That’s… really all he’s ever wanted, though now? Things have changed, and he has to put their safety ahead of everything else.

She dips her head in a nod. “I was trained to be a Jedi, not to fight. I never wanted the war.”

Hearing people say that inevitably makes him uncomfortable. That’s stupid. She’s not saying she wishes he was never born. Those aren’t mutually exclusive. “If not for the war, my brothers and I wouldn’t exist.”

Ahsoka sighs. “Yeah. But what I’m saying is… that I want to leave the fight. I want to walk away from all of this.”

He’s exhausted. He thinks he could sleep for a week or ten. Either the aftereffects of the surgery haven’t worn off yet, or he’s just… “You could do that?” Hunter inquires, “Just walk out from all of this?”

“Jedi can still make choices,” Ahsoka replies, “If I don’t want to stay, I can… settle down. Theoretically.”

That isn’t what he’s asking. He knows the Council would let people leave the Order, even if hardly anyone ever had – it still doesn’t feel fair, because he and his brothers were always their – their property still. They couldn’t walk out even if they wanted to. (Anakin had said the same about himself.) “And leave your master?” Hunter asks, because that’s what bothers him the most.

He’d do anything to keep his family together. How could anyone else not say the same? He’d kill for them. Died for them. He already has.

“He’s taken care of me. Stood by me. He… I want his approval, but I still have to make my own choices.”

He doesn’t understand how someone could talk like that. Think like that. She’s talking about leaving her family because she’s uncomfortable with… what they are. He and his brothers have always stuck together. It – it sounds too much like… Crosshair. He doesn’t want to think about this. “I hope you find whatever it is you need,” Hunter says instead of the million arguments he could say to that. If his brothers wanted to fight, he’d do it just for them. Even if he was afraid, even if… but that’s not what Ahsoka has ever been. She’s… younger.

She’s their kid. They do everything for her. They’re not her responsibility.

“You too,” Ahsoka sighs, rubbing her arms. “I never thought about it too much, but maybe… if you want to settle down somewhere, we could do it together.”

Huh. So that’s what this is about?

“Maybe,” he says, not offering to commit to anything. He’s not opposed to that, but it would feel wrong to be with her, to know that Anakin and Rex were fighting for her, and she was… That they were keeping her safe while having no idea if her brothers were.

Ahsoka is far more well-known than they are – okay. That’s not true. She was far more respected in the Jedi Order than they were. Everyone knew about them, because so many people disproved of the Council’s decision to train them. They didn’t want them.

It isn’t that Hunter doesn’t… enjoy her company? But he can’t say he’s comfortable with it, though he doesn’t know why.

“I don’t know,” Ahsoka sighs. “I just feel like… right now, I need a break.”

Hunter nods to her, a little idly, but doesn’t verbally respond.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #whumpuary #whumpuary 2024 #whumpuary prompt 6 #prompt 6 #prompt six #whumpuary prompt six #the bad batch #hunter #ahsoka tano #ahsoka #hunter and ahsoka #hurt/comfort #friendship #bad batch

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snowcandyz · 2 years

Text

The Life of Royals - Teamwork Makes the Dream Works

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Lucifer/F!MC

Summary: When you were seven, you held a fake wedding by the swings with a kid you met at a park. You never saw your childhood ‘spouse’ again after that day. Today you received a letter summoning you to a foreign country, where your wedding to the heir to the throne twenty years ago is seen as valid. -Prompt by @/writing-prompt-s

| First Chapter | Previous Chapter |

The royal physician had informed your current condition the next morning to Lucifer and it eased him to know you’re doing better. So when Lucifer stopped by your room, you were already back to your usual self; bright and colourful.

Although you seemed to not like it when he visited you.

“Your Highness!”

“Did you perhaps lose your memories?”

“No! I mean! I’m still in my nightwear!”

Lucifer didn’t see the problem, “And…?”

But your only response was to stutter incoherently before kicking him out of the room.

He didn’t understand why you’d be ashamed of what you’re wearing. It was only your usual silk knee-length nightgown.

And he’s your husband. So what’s the problem?

“Your Highness, Her Highness wished for you to visit again after she has finished changing her attire,” Rose relayed your message.

It only made him frown before complying with your request.

If you’re not comfortable with him yet, he won’t force you.

------

Knowing you’re doing okay, he made his way to the meeting hall with a small smile.

Considering he didn’t entertain any questions from the Heads of the Houses yesterday, Lucifer predicted he’s going to have a very stressful day today.

Sure enough, the nobles could guess by now what the Crown Princess’s identity was since none of their daughters had been chosen to be wed to Lucifer. And there was no news of marriage delegation from any foreign countries either.

“A commoner, Your Highness? Please rethink your decision! Your Highness has a lot of other better options!”

“I doubt the public will take it kindly, Your Highness.”

“Your Highness, this is a crucial matter to be taken! We are speaking about the pure blood of the royal family!”

“Enough!” Lucifer stood up from his seat, “This is my decision and it is final! I don’t know if you haven’t noticed this yet, but commoners are still our people! Our citizens! I don’t know what makes you think you’re all above them when they are the ones who pay for your salary!

Their taxes, their manpower, their ideas, their contribution! All of them are our support! How long should we be blinded by titles and ranks when we can’t even live without them?

It’s time to change. Let their voices be heard and let them know they’re appreciated.

I doubt they’re gonna protest against this decision. With a commoner being a ruler, wouldn’t that make them feel at ease? Knowing they have someone who understands their pain and suffering? Their worries and anxiety for their future?”

Lucifer continued, “Take the Western Empire for an example. They listen to their people and look how far they’ve gone.”

Some of the nobles weren’t really against Lucifer’s decision but after hearing that, they were more than convinced to accept their new ruler.

“What about His Majesty? Did His Majesty approve of the Princess?”

“Yes, His Majesty did.”

And with that statement, the nobles knew they could no longer object to Lucifer’s decision.

-------

“How’s MC’s condition?” Lucifer asked Jean while still going through the paperwork.

“Unfortunately, Her Highness’s condition isn't as good as this morning. But rest easy, Your Highness. The royal physician had been monitoring Her Highness since then. She is currently resting as we speak.”

Lucifer’s mood went down the drain yet again.

“Jean… do you think I made the right decision?”

It wasn’t every day for Lucifer to be indecisive and pondering about the decision he took. Yet, he somehow felt the need to be reassured right now.

The poor eldest of the seven faced too many obstacles and challenges, even during his early stages of life.

He didn’t know how to confide in his brothers, or his father, or to you.

He was used to keeping it all by himself.

He was used to being the one who hurt the most.

He was used to being misunderstood by others just to prevent them from getting hurt by the cruel truth.

It was this trait of Lucifer’s that made Jean worried. He had been taking care of the Crown Prince since he was a baby.

Lucifer was his Master, his brother and his friend.

“Your Highness, in my humble opinion, I sincerely think your decision is the best. His Majesty had been dreaming of forming a bridge between the nobles and commoners since long ago.”

“But, I’m going to hurt her, right? I’m exposing her to this dirty political world…”

“From what I’ve observed since Her Highness came into this palace, she is very strong. I doubt she’d crumble from the pressure.”

“But she broke down in her first week!”

“Your Highness, have you stopped to think that it’s because it was you?”

Lucifer looked up from his work in confusion.

But Jean only smiled before continuing, “Your Highness is the only person Her Highness truly knows in this foreign place. You two had dinner every day; you were bonded by a valid marriage; you were childhood friends even though it wasn’t for long. Don’t you think Her Highness trusts you the most?”

Lucifer let Jean’s words sink into his mind.

“I may not be an expert when it comes to relationships, but if my partner is disappointed in me, it’d definitely hurt more than having the others be disappointed in me.” Jean smiled again.

“Jean, you don’t think she…”

“As I said, I am not an expert, but in my point of view, Her Highness definitely did.”

‘She trusted you… As her husband.’

Jean’s words made Lucifer hide his lips using the back of his hand while miserably trying to hide his blushing face.

--------

You were recovering slowly and after two days, you had fully recovered. You bid your thanks to the physician for her help and also to your maids. You also apologised for the reckless behaviours that lead you to pass out from overworking in the first place.

“We were very worried when Jean told us about you. It made us feel guilty for leaving you alone in His Highness’s waiting room,” Rose said.

“We hope you listen to our advice after this and take care of your health more. There’s nothing more we want than to see Your Highness in your usual healthy self,” Marie added.

“I’m sorry for causing trouble to you two…”

Hearing their explanations made you more guilty. You didn’t only cause trouble for your maids, but also to Lucifer, Jean and the other attendants.

You were supposed to try on your wedding dress yesterday but because of your fever, you couldn’t and it hindered the progress of the ceremony.

You even received a get well soon gift from the King’s attendants even though he was also sick. Not to mention, the Princes were always asking about your condition time and time again, until Lucifer banned them from stepping into a 2km radius from your bedroom.

'I need to apologise to all of them’

--------

“Please come in, Your Highness.” Jean led the way before closing the door before you.

It was the second time you stepped inside Lucifer’s study, yet the exquisite environment around it didn’t fail to amaze you. The furniture, the bookshelves, the fireplace. Even his massive mahogany desk emitted its own aura.

This whole place gave off Lucifer’s charismatic presence and you’re not even sure why.

Maybe because this place is the witness of Lucifer’s ups and downs.

The place where Lucifer’s princely side intensified.

And the place where Lucifer’s true side showed itself once in a while.

“Is everything alright, MC? You said you want to talk?” Lucifer finally spoke, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Ah, yes! I actually want to give you something,” You approached him, “I’m not sure if you’ll like it but I spent my free time embroidering this for you. I’m not even sure if you will actually use it but I hope–”

“Wait. What did you say?”

“ I’m not sure if you will use it? ”

“No, before that. After this question about me not liking it or something.”

“ I spent my free time embroidering– ”

“You what?!” Lucifer stood up from his seat abruptly.

He then walked towards you with rage clearly depicted on his face. You took a step back instinctively, trying to distance yourself from him.

“You spent your free time when you should have been resting, to do what…?”

“I was just trying to give you something…” you meekly said.

“Jean!”

Upon hearing his master’s order, he left the room, silently praying for his mistress.

“I… I made this for you…?” you gave the handkerchief.

You could feel Lucifer’s anger slowly dissipate when he saw your gift. So you took this chance to explain, “Madam Leela showed me how to embroider the Houses’ emblem. So I want to give you your family’s emblem as a gift. It’s a thank you gift for all your help and hospitality throughout my stay. And I’m really thankful you gave me the chance to learn embroidery. I love it!”

Seeing Lucifer still admiring your handwork, you continued, “It isn't too bad, right? Oh! And my favourite part is this shield over here! But this little black lion by the shield was really difficult. I almost–oof!”

You were cut off when you felt him pulling you into a hug. His grips on your back and the back of your head were very tight and you noticed the subtle trembling from him.

'Lucifer? What’s wrong…?’

You were too concerned to even be embarrassed by the fact that it was the first time you two hugged. You didn’t know what to do so put your arms around his back and offer whatever comfort you could give at the moment.

“MC?”

“Yes?”

Lucifer pulled back and cupped your cheek gently, “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widened with shock and you felt your face become coloured after hearing his statement, but he wasn’t kidding.

The look on his face didn’t display any uncertainty. The stare he gave you was full of passion. And his voice didn’t waver from any hints of doubt when he said it out loud.

He leaned closer, “Can I?”

With your heart pounding loudly inside your chest, you felt yourself leaning closer and slowly closing your eyes, giving him the non-verbal consent.

The only sound you heard was the beating of your heart. Not even the loud crackling fire beside you registered to your mind.

The only thought you had in mind was Lucifer. His cologne, his height, the perfect shape of his lips.

Your lips were brushing against each other when–

“Your Highness! Wait! Don’t go in yet!”

“Nonsense Jean, we’re just trying to give our report.”

“Yeah! We’ll be quick.”

The door to Lucifer’s study creaked open, revealing Belphie and Satan, who were equally shocked at the scene as much as you two.

Belphie then closed the door slowly, “Yeah, maybe Jean was right.”

You really wanted to dig a hole and hide for all eternity now.

“Belphegor! Satan!”

Of course, those two were already running as fast as they could from the scene.

Please expect the next scene to be Jean chastising the three princes for hours on their improper behaviour on the palace grounds after Lucifer spent a whole 10 minutes chasing after the two.

------

“Stop talking about that! It wasn’t funny!” You were flustered.

“It is, though.” Levi and Asmo laughed. Beel also politely joined.

“I didn’t know why it happened! It just happened! I’m so embarrassed!” You hid your face using your hands while the three princes were still laughing.

“But seriously, what did you give Lucifer? It’s rare for him to break character,” Asmo asked.

“I embroidered the royal emblem on a handkerchief for him…”

This seemed to shock those three as they exchanged quick glances before Beel said, “Do you know what that means?”

“It didn’t have any meaning anymore, right? Madam Leela mentioned the practice behind embroidering was only relevant a long time ago.”

“Yeah, but that’s for the Houses ’ emblem. But not for the Royal emblem,” Levi explained.

“Wait what? Then what’s the meaning behind it?” You began panicking.

“It means 'Be my spouse’.” Asmo giggled.

…?

“It was used by the royal family actually. We gave the ones who we were interested in marrying a handkerchief embroidered with a royal emblem. It’s not an invitation, but more of an order.” Beel smiled.

“So what you did just now was asking Lucifer to be your spouse,” Levi shrugged, “But that wasn’t new information anyway, so I guess you’re fine. It’s just that your action made you seem more assertive in your relationship. No big deal.”

No wonder the reaction from him!

“Hey hey, can’t we have one too? Not with a royal emblem though, just one with our name? Please~” Asmo pouted.

“Asmo, don’t force MC to do things for you,” Beel said.

“It’s fine! I can definitely do that. But I can’t promise it’ll finish anytime soon, so could you wait a little bit?”

“Yeay!” Asmo cheered.

“You’re sure about this? You just recovered from your fever.” Levi frowned.

“It’s fine. It’s the least I can do for your help since I’ve been here. I’m sorry too for causing so much trouble to you all.” You gave them all a sincere smile.

“But don’t force yourself, okay? And take care of your health too.”

“I will. Thank you all!”

-------

How fast time flies.

It is now a day before the ceremony.

Most of the guests for the ceremony were already here in the Eastern Kingdom. And every preparation was going smoothly.

True to Lucifer’s prediction, the public took the news positively. There were some of them who even sent you early wedding gifts.

The reporters and paparazzi all around the world were turning their attention to the mysterious couple. Only your name was known but not your picture.

However, some reporters managed to dig your private social media accounts and got ahold of your pictures. They even started writing articles about you and their guesses on how Lucifer and you met.

Lucifer was quick to think, so he sent many bodyguards to guard your family against those nosy reporters. They were the ones under extreme pressure after your pictures were illegally released.

You were also very worried about your family’s safety but Lucifer assured you that he took care of everything.

Heaven prays for those who illegally spread your pictures… They’re now facing Lucifer’s wrath.

So now, you’re greeting every guest that visited the palace with Lucifer.

“MC, meet the High Priest, Priest Simeon.” Lucifer introduced you to Simeon.

You bowed slightly, giving respect while Simeon only smiled.

He looked very young to be a High Priest…?

But you read about this, about him; the youngest priest to ever be awarded as High Priest.

“I can finally meet the Princess who won our Lucifer's heart,” Simeon said.

'Our…?’

“Simeon is my friend. In fact, he was once a citizen from this country,” Lucifer explained.

“I see.” You smiled and nodded.

“I still remember receiving his letter a year ago. My goodness! It was really shocking. But I understand his situation.”

Simeon’s words made you frown in confusion but you quickly controlled your facial expression and looked over to Lucifer for an explanation.

“Please excuse us, for we need to be somewhere else. Enjoy the stay and let me know if you need anything,” Lucifer quickly interrupted before pulling you closer by the waist and walking away.

You looked back at Simeon who’s still smiling and bowing slightly so you nodded your head in response.

You then turned your attention to Lucifer, “What was that? And why are you in a rush? What does he mean about the letter?”

“Nothing to worry about, MC.”

“Lucifer!”

He stopped walking.

“MC, let’s talk in my waiting room, not here.” He resumed his walking.

------

“Now will you please tell me about this?” You took a seat in front of him with a slight frown on your face.

“Simeon is the one who validates our marriage.”

“What?” The world came crashing down upon you, “I thought you mentioned it was the Court?”

“No, Simeon’s authority exceeds the Court’s authority.”

You felt betrayed.

“Why didn’t you tell me…?”

“Because it’s not important for you to know.”

You felt deceived.

“So, it was only after a year ago that you decided you want me as your wife?”

Lucifer didn’t reply.

You felt wronged.

“Lucifer… why?”

He hung his head low, never wanting to show you his pathetic self.

The tension in the air was thick and you were close to breaking down in tears.

“What else are you hiding from me?”

Lucifer only gripped his fist tightly, mouth still shut and never speaking. Only when you sniffled did he look up and notice you’ve been crying.

Every mask he’s been wearing shattered into pieces as he scrambled over to your side and cupped your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Lucifer wiped your tears using his fingers, soaking his gloves with your tears.

“Talk to me, Lucifer. What else have you been hiding? Explain to me why you’re doing this?”

“I’m afraid of you leaving me.”

You waited for him to explain.

“I’m afraid I can’t have you. I’m afraid of seeing you with someone else.” He then gripped your hands tightly. You didn’t notice he had been trembling the whole time until he held your hand.

“I’m really sorry for dragging you into this world. I really am. But my greed for you is greater. I also want to fulfil my Father’s request.”

“His Majesty’s request?”

“Yes, my father had always wanted us to be more understanding towards commoners. He sent me to the Western Empire when I’m seven just to get used to their lives. That’s where I met you. You were my only friend back then. They all hated me. But you showed me real kindness, the real reason for me to keep fighting for my people, for me to understand that commoners are the support of nobles.”

You let out a small smile, telling him you understood his worries, “So you asked Simeon to validate our marriage?”

“Yes.” Lucifer eyed you for your responses or reactions and he found nothing but happiness.

“Thank you for telling me, Lucifer.”

“You’re not disgusted by my sudden confession?”

You let out a laugh, “After knowing you for almost three months, I can say you’re quite possessive. So it’s not a surprise.”

“So you’re not going to be mad too if you know I hired a private investigator to watch your every move?”

“What?!” Cold shivers ran down your spine, “I expected you to run a background research on me but not hire a private investigator!”

No wonder your personal chamber looked so familiar.

No wonder the flowers planted in the garden were your favourites.

No wonder the chefs had been cooking your favourite food.

No wonder your clothes and furniture were designed in your favourite colour.

No wonder he knew where to find you in the first place…

“MC, that was a long time ago, before you even came to this palace. I didn’t do it again. I won’t do it again, I promise.” Seeing your speechless face made Lucifer feel even guiltier.

“You really promise not to do it again?”

Lucifer nodded, still firmly holding your hands, “I understand if you’re not comfortable around me so please speak your mind.”

'What am I going to do with you…’ You smiled a little.

“Lucifer, it’s alright. I forgive you. Thank you so much for being honest. Truthfully, it’s better to hear you say this now before I got to know from someone else. I wouldn’t have been able to handle it if it was the latter. Thank you, Lucifer.” You leaned closer and wrapped your arms around him, assuring him that you were okay.

He reciprocated the action and basked in your comfort.

He never knew what it felt like to have someone to talk to. And for once, he could feel the pressure seeping off his shoulders.

It’s a lie to say that it wasn’t a pleasant sensation.

Lucifer knew he could trust you.

“Don’t hide from me, okay?” he heard you say, still hugging him tightly.

The five words that changed his view on people.

Further explanation: Royal Marriages are under the High Priest’s jurisdiction. So the nobles/Court/public can’t actually interfere with the marriage once the High Priests give the couple their blessings.

| Masterlist |

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me lucifer #om lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me luci x reader #obey me fluff #obey me angst #obey me writing #obey me fics #f!mc #obey me fanfic #han writes

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duckymcdoorknob · 1 year

Note

May I please request a small iced tea with light ice? Any toppings! The names on that order areee Magna and Asta!! Thank you thank you!!

Oh my brain just exploded from this holy shit I’m so excited OMg omg omg

Big bro Magna time 😎😎😎😎

Be ready for f l u f f

@giggly-squiggily @rachi-roo hehe y’all would enjoy this

CW BELOW THE CUT: this do have some tickles in this tbh

♫ -ᥕᥲі𝗍ᥱr, ᥕᥲі𝗍ᥱr, ⍴ᥱrᥴ᥆ᥣᥲ𝗍᥆r- ☕️

Surely it couldn’t have been that big of a deal… could it? Asta didn’t think it was that serious, he just grew up a little bit differently than the rest of the Black Bulls. Why were they overreacting?

So what if had been been ten years?

Why is it such a shock?

Was he supposed to? It’s not like he could help it…

—

“This is stupid, we all know each other.” Finral whined, subsequently sipping from the cup in his hand.

“Right, but you don’t know each other,” Captain Yami answered with a click of his tongue. The burly man smiled, ruffling the spatial magic user’s hair. “Come back to me when you’re all closer.”

Magna scoffed as Yami disappeared, and Finral sat next to him, “So where do we start? This already sounds like torture.”

“Listening to you talk is torture enough.” The brunette spat back.

“Why you- I’ll show you torture.” The flame magic user hissed as he poked Finral’s side.

“GYAH! Magna! I sw-sWEAR to-“

“Shoot I wish I knew if I was ticklish.” Asta thought out loud, “Don’t think I’ve ever felt it, to be honest.”

“Are you serious?” Magna asked in utter shock, ceasing his poke attack on his teammate.

“Well, not never, but… “the manaless boy trailed off, deep in thought. “Yeah I honestly don’t think I’ve been tickled in like…ten years?“

Asta felt like he had just said a swear word by the amount of heads that turned to him.

It took all of the Bulls a good five seconds to process Asta’s words. Ten years? Ten? And he’d been with the Bulls for how long? How had he not fallen victim to Magna or Yami yet?

“What do you mean by that?” Gauche asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“I mean, yeah. I’m from a peasant village and I don’t have any magic. Not many peoples’ first thought is to reach out and tickle me.” The ash-blonde replied with an awkward chuckle.

“Just consider yourself lucky, shorty, Magna is actually the worst tickle monster.” Finral whined, clamping his arms to his torso with a look of fear in his eyes. The boy‘s eyes widened as he looked to the rest of the Bulls for approval.

To his dismay, the claim was proven true by their nodding. He turned to the mentioned tickle monster, who was sitting next to him.

“Asta, do you trust me?” Magna asked calmly, a patient smile tugging at his lips.

“Course I do. I trust you with my life.” The anti-magic user beamed at him, stars twinkling in his eyes.

“Okay then! Let’s find out where our chaos child is ticklish!” The bespectacled male cooed as he hovered over the now cowering Asta, who was sinking into the couch and giggling in anticipation. “Seems like he’s still ticklish!”

“Ahaham nohohot!” Asta whined, cowering away from Magna’s hands.

“I haven’t even touched you! How are you laughing?” The flame magic user teased, finally letting his hands descend gently on the boy’s torso. “I’m gonna try here first, okay?”

Asta nodded and watched as Magna’s hands began to squeeze at his sides. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t disappointed when he stopped laughing. He wore a puzzled look as Magna’s hands came to a halt.

“Don’t worry! We just have to find your tickle spot!” The bespectacled male chimed, let’s try…. Here! Arms up!”

The ash-blonde obeyed, feeling fingers wiggling under his arms shortly after. He didn’t react, albeit a frustrated furrow of his brows. “Magna! What gives?! I’m broken!”

“Don’t give up hope!” The tickle monster roared, “You are not broken!”

“Yes I am! Finral said that you tickle everyone! You can’t get me to laugh, so the only explanation is that I’m br-ohohohoken!”

The flame magic user closed his eyes and chuckled, “Heh. Found it!” He sing-songed.

Magna had brought his hands down to gently pinch at the boy’s hips, eliciting the most vibrant laughter he had ever heard. “Anywhere else? What about your knees?”

“Mahahaybehe! Try ihihihit!” The ash-blonde cried out joyfully. “I’m not sure if it will work bUHUHUT- OHOHOHO NOHOHOHO! MAHAHAHAGNAHAHA!”

The Bulls watched in delight as their tough-as-nails problem child finally let himself relax. They could tell from his limp body that he truly did trust Magna, and that he knew his teammate wouldn’t push him too far.

“HYAHAHA MAHAHAGNAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!”

“Please what? Keep going? Move spots?”

“YEHEHEHES!”

Magna couldn’t help but smile at the adorable request, instantly obliging and gently digging into the boy’s ribs. Oops, sorry teammates…

Asta gasped before screamed protests leaked from his lips. His laughter was twice as loud, and he could only sink throw his head back and endure the full force of tickle monster Magna.

“Christ on a crutch, kid! What the hell are you doing to him, Mags?” Captain Yami’s tired voice sounded suddenly. Unable to hear over Asta’s booming laughter, the dark magic user simply sighed and sat between Finral and Vanessa, draping his arms around his two teammates, and observing the adorable scene in front of him.

Finral and Vanessa tried their best to explain, but some words were lost in translation over the anti-magic boy’s laughter.

When Magna gave the boy a breather, he had finally noticed his captain sitting in front of him. “Oh, hey captain! Just helping Asta remember if he was ticklish or not, it had been a loooong time. Not to worry though, his knees and ribs are killer!”

“Oh yeah? Is that the deal, kid? Mags finally gotcha good, huh?” Yami asked the panting boy before him.

“Yeah! It was fun! I thought I was broken at first, but then Magna kinda squeezed at my ribs and it was all downhill from there.” The ash-blonde replied hoarsely with a beaming grin.

“S’that so?”

Uh oh.

Asta didn’t trust the mischievous tone that his captain had…

Before he could even think about running away, Yami had pulled Asta into his chest with a roar, digging into his ribs and eliciting thunderous laughter once more.

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

#java jive #black clover #magna #magna swing #asta #asta black clover #black clover asta #black clover magna #magna black clover #magna and Asta #they are homies #black clover tickle #t content #lee!asta #ler!magna #ticklish!asta #anime #anime tickle fic #anime tickle

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disorganizedkitten · 2 months

Text

This Is The Road To Ruin Chapter One

Harry Potter | 2022 | 6,362 | Ao3 | Masterlist | Next

And We're Starting At The End Magic is real. That's probably supposed to be the most important bit, here, but to Eden's kids that doesn't mean much. There are a lot of magical children without families, just as there are even more nonmagical children without them. Eden's takes them both and tells them to get along, it's probably just genetics. The actual important bit is this: Harry Doe gets his Hogwarts letter on July 24th, 1991. For someone who's birthday is November 11th, 1980, that's a touch odd, but whatever. For someone whose magic doesn't work quite right, that's more odd, but he knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Adapting to a largely new culture, making friends, and spontaneously bleeding whenever he's around a specific professor? Yeah, so there's a Reason Florine didn't think he'd make it to Hogwarts. Still, he's gonna make the best of it; even if that means ignoring That Weird Potter Kid, befriending the Obviously Raised By A Serial Killer Dormmate, and joining a conspiracy labelled 'blue and yellow make green for a reason, children'.

24/7/91

Harry got his Hogwarts letter today! He was so happy about it. I am too. We haven’t been able to tell Clemencia yet, but everyone else knows. Aletris is already teasing him about his future house, although Hana’s reactions make me think he’s not remembering them right. Or maybe she’s just teasing; I don’t remember them either. They’re not important, so long as he makes friends and feels comfortable.

Ravenclaw is the perfect place for the girls, so I can only hope Harry goes to one perfect for him.

... don’t tell Harry, but I was a little worried he wouldn’t get one. And it’s a year early, that worries me. We’re not going to edit the birth certificate, but if magic reads his birthday as before September first, that opens a whole new set of opportunities for his birth family. I don’t want them to find him, but we’ve had this conversation before.

I was worried that his shapeshifting was going to be like Tansy’s smoke, a sign that something was supremely wrong and the wizarding world didn’t want him either.

I might be jealous, but only a little bit. I don’t want to know what would’ve happened if they were successful.

Anyway, we’re picking up Clem first thing tomorrow morning, and heading off to Diagon Alley! Hana says that she has most of the third year booklist too, so we can get their supplies all at once, and send someone for the final things in August. Aletris-

***

Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, hummed as she looked at the unfortunately familiar building. Eden’s was painted on the little picket sign in the front yard, with a tree curving up over the word and an apple leaf instead of an apostrophe. Despite the sadness implicit in this place, she forced her thoughts to warm, considering the letter in her pocket.

It was a familiar name, which made the trek to this place simultaneously more and less depressing.

She entered the gate, looking warmly over the well-used yard. There were kids playing in a sprinkler on one side, and she waved when one of them caught her eye. That set off a chain reaction of kids waving, which made Minerva smile. How cute.

She rapped sharply on the door, as was her custom, and was let in by the Matron of this not-orphanage. Minerva had called it an orphanage once and was promptly treated to a lecture about how orphanages were dead.

“Hey,” she said with an easy smile. Mrs. Konstantina Calmiris was also a widow, and Minerva was relatively sure they had almost been in the same year, or would have been had Konstantina had magic. She was stout and kind, with graying blonde hair and blue/hazel heterochromia. As Minerva had heard it, Mrs. Calmiris had started the group home out of a severe case of empty-nester’s syndrome after her child had run off to the circus with her full approval.

She also, oddly enough, had quite the knowledge of magic. Minerva had considered sending an Obliviator after her, but decided that it was justified as Mrs. Calmiris was essentially the single parent of fifteen kids. And with the number of muggleborns Minerva had delivered letters to either in this building or who had come back to this building at some point in summer, obliviating her would have been more work than it was worth anyway.

“Good Morning, Mrs. Calmiris,” Minerva returned, just as warmly.

“Is that Professor McGonagall?”

Mrs. Calmiris grinned impishly and shouted down the hallway. “Yes, actually!”

There was an excited yell, and one of her sixth-year lions came scrambling out of the drawing room. Jeanette Scott. “Awesome! Professor, I had a question about the Fawcett principle; it said in chapter seven that all transfigurations are finite and will fade, depending on the amount of magic put into it, right? But then what about magically transfigured houses? By all accounts they should fall, making it a completely illegal and unsafe building practice!”

“The key to that, Miss Scott, is the materials. If you transfigured the shape of wood, but not the amount, the transfiguration doesn’t fade because there’s no extra energy there. The same cannot be said of turning your teacup into a kitten; not only do you change the mass, you change the properties.”

“Huh,” Scott said. “Thanks, Professor. Are you here for Harry?”

“Likely,” Minerva hummed. “Harry Doe?”

“That’s the one. I’ll go get him.” Jeanette ducked outside.

Mrs. Calmiris led her to the same office she had used every other time – Konstantina didn’t allow strangers, especially adults, into her children’s rooms, ever. It had been a fight the first time Minerva came to Eden’s, nine years ago.

Minerva took her seat with grace. They existed in silence, Konstantina digging through her papers from behind her desk. “July thirty-first,” she murmured, nose in her pocket calendar.

Minerva hummed inquiringly.

Konstantina glanced up and shot her a tight smile, before putting a note in one of her many, many files. “You deliver letters exactly a week before birthdays, correct?”

“Yes,” Minerva agreed.

There was a knock on the door, and then a child popped their head in. “Jeanie said I was needed, Tanti?”

“Yeah, come on in, Hawthorne.”

Hadn’t they said Harry?

He came in all the way and closed the door; after a quick glance at the other chair in the office, he hopped onto a clear corner of the desk instead. Minerva tried in vain to smother her smile as he looked at her, feet kicking. He was surprisingly pale for a child so late in summer, with just the touches of a sunburn across his nose and arms, wet, dark hair plastered to his forehead, and slightly disturbing eyes. They were bright green, as though someone had caught the killing curse in marbles and stuck them in. There was a pang of sadness as she pushed away a niggling sense of recognition; there had been too many orphans made of the last war, orphans whose parents she’d taught or fought with personally.

“Are you Mr. H. Doe, of the Mint Room?”

“Yep. Hawthorne Doe, nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” she said warmly. As likely as it was that he already knew of magic, she still looked forward to explaining. “I’m Professor McGonagall, of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

As she spoke, a look of excited awe dawned over Doe’s face. “Is this- do you- I thought not until next year?”

And oh, Minerva realized with a pang. The poor child didn’t even know his own birthday. “No, Mr. Doe. We’d love to see you on September first.” She offered the letter, green ink glimmering in the office’s light.

He took it reverently, smoothing out the folds gently. “You’re sure I’m supposed to go?"

“The magic is never wrong, Mr. Doe. You’re part of the 1991 intake.”

She watched happily as a smile slid over his face, and he turned to look at Mrs. Calmiris. “Can I go tell the others?”

“Pack your bag for the weekend, and I’ll take you over.”

His smile managed to get brighter. “Thank you! And you, Professor!” he added, turning to her. “Do I need to pen a formal acceptance?”

“Merely say you’ll be there on September first, Mr. Doe, and it’ll be official.”

He nodded. “I’m absolutely going to be at Hogwarts September first.”

“Good, now, before I let you go-“ she made sure to stress the statute of secrecy, knowing it would likely be ignored anyway and not caring as much as she likely should, and also handed him a card for the Hogwarts Stipend. “Present this to the Goblins at Gringotts, and it should cover most if not all of your supplies.”

Mrs. Calmiris didn’t even try to argue this time; the first few, she had, because apparently the muggle government gave her a stipend per child that she would gladly use to cover the expenses, but Minerva had talked her into it the second summer, after Konstantina had met her fuming about the home that one of her kids had been in for the first half of the summer. Minerva convinced her that even if she covered their expenses while she watched them, the money could be put into savings accounts and be there for an emergency, or, if all went well, be used to buy friends Christmas presents.

***

Tanti, as Mrs. Calmiris preferred her kids to call her (because it sounded like tante and Mrs. Calmiris was nothing if not in love with languages) was the best, for a multitude of reasons, but the most common one was that she got it. She’d had many kids throughout her years, and she understood and noticed that some of them got more attached than others did. She put in the work to make sure that they stayed in contact, if not outright together, which had been Harry’s saving grace when he was seven. Jacinta had moved out as soon as she was eighteen, moving in with Aletris and Florine instead. As she’d raised him up until that point, it was a big change. He shuddered to think of how bad his abandonment issues would be if he hadn’t been allowed to visit.

Tanti made him promise to have one of them call her if he wasn’t coming home tomorrow night (he kindly didn’t tell her that this apartment was more home than Eden’s nowadays) before leaving him at the bottom of their building, secure in the knowledge that he’d be okay.

With his siblings, what else could he be? He made his way upstairs to their apartment, and opened the door with a grin, catching sight of his favorite sister right away.

“Jacinta! Guys, guess what?”

“Celosia’s food arrived?” Jacinta asked, only half serious. Or so Harry hoped. She was reading A Dramatic Retelling Of The Midnight Ride , the cover done mostly in bright blues and yellows reminiscent of a Van Gogh painting.

"Not yet," Harry said, kicking the door closed and dropping his suitcase in the tiny entryway. "Are you running low?"

He hoped not, but he couldn't remember the last time they had gotten food. He could talk them into swinging by the pet store when they go to Diagon Alley, though.

"No," Jacinta said. "He's just whiny."

Harry ducked his head, hiding a fond smile she wouldn’t see anyway, and darted into the little living room.

The Garden Apartment was small, with only two bedrooms, one bath, and a kitchen-dining-living room that bled together. It could, generously, be called an open floor plan, with the kitchen and dining room each taking up a quarter of the floor, separated by a counter, while the other half had stained beige carpet and was their living room, denoted by the blue tie-dye sofa and large, glass windows. And the snake cage, with a heavy heat lamp and brightly colored serpent inside. "Celosia!"

"Two-leaf!" The snake said, rearing up happily. "Smoke-nestmate is a wonderful hunter, you should let her teach you!"

"She is," Harry agreed, a little uncomfortable. Florine's 'hunting' was… not something they talked about. "How are you?" He reached down, and Celosia wrapped around his wrist.

Celosia began to regale him with tales of sneaking around the kitchen to try and eat a raw egg without Aletris catching him.

Celosia was a blue coral snake, scales done primarily in dark blue, but with a pillar box red head and tail, and two light blue stripes connecting them.

Harry carried Celosia over and leaned on Jacinta's back. "You didn't guess my news."

Jacinta went stiff for half a second. Harry pressed harder into her side. Jacinta took a deep breath, and when she spoke next it was a little warmer, a little more excited. "Are you going to Hogwarts?"

"I'm going to Hogwarts!" Harry agreed, vibrating.

She leaned back into him, catching his head in a one-armed hug. "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you," Harry said softly. "Do you know where the others are?"

She nodded, twisting off her chair. "Aletris and Tansy are shopping, Clem's at work, and Hana's been practicing for her marathon. Clemsr's still with the Gibsons, so she won't be here for dinner but I'll get Hana."

Jacinta Pérez was an odd woman, but Harry wouldn't trade her for the world. Aside from her latent ability to locate her family, she was also an absolute flower nerd - specifically, their meanings. Thus, everyone but Harry had a matching nickname, and his wasn't flower related only because Jacinta had been able to give him a flower as his legal name.

Hawthorns were a flower of love and protection. Tansys were violent, a declaration of war . Edelweiss was for courage, devotion and loyalty. Salvia for connections, thinking of you. Heliotrope for ambition, Cornflower a good luck charm.

(Harry meant ruler. Florine meant flower. Aletris meant corn grinder. Jacinta for beautiful, drawn from the Greek Hyacinth. Hana meant happiness, drawn from another flower. Clemencia meant merciful.)

"Well," Jacinta said, letting him bring her to the living room. "Tell me all about it!"

He grinned, sat down beside her, and started talking.

***

"Florine!"

"Why is there screaming?" His eldest sister asked, half-materializing in the kitchen. The smoke of her form moved back and forth over brown skin, solidifying into groceries every time more wrapped around her hand. Florine Dupont and Jacinta Peréz could easily be mistaken for biological siblings, something they’d taken advantage of many times; both had brown skin and dark hair; black in Florine’s case, and brown in Jacinta’s. Florine’s eyes were hazel, when they weren’t a surprisingly demonic white.

"Harry reached a milestone ," Jacinta sung proudly, leisurely following his mad dash to the kitchen.

Harry slammed into her middle, not minding the freezing mist that danced around them both. "I'm going to Hogwarts!"

"You're- Harry that's great!" There was a clatter as she dropped the rest of the groceries and scooped him up. There was the vicious feeling of too-hot too-cold not-there and then they were in the living room and she was cupping his face, brown eyes jubilant. Harry grinned back at her.

"I know!"

There were things they didn't talk about with the other witches in the family, like the fact that neither of their magic worked quite right. Harry hadn't expected a letter, even though Jacinta told him to keep his hopes up. (He told himself he would be okay if it never came, but he'd been dreading next summer - dreading the confirmation he was a freak, even among magicals.)

Hot-cold fingers brushed away the tears he hadn't noticed were welling up. "You're going to be amazing," she murmured softly.

"They're going to think I'm weird," he whispered back.

"Pity them," Florine said seriously. "If they're so closed minded to care, they're not worth it anyway."

He nodded, and dangit, he wasn't supposed to cry, this is a good thing, it's just-

It's just-

(Jacinta never said she was magical, but Harry will eat his own hand if Seeing isn't a magical gift. Florine has always been magical but people are scared of her, call her a monster, a killer, and they're not wrong. Harry was magical from the moment they met him, a screaming child who couldn't stop changing his face, his limbs, who made Jacinta taste blood the first time she held him.)

(Hana and Clemencia never talk about that, never get odd, awed or disgusted looks just from using their magic.)

It's just a lot.

Florine kept brushing away his tears as they came faster, to the background noise of Jacinta putting away groceries.

He's going to Hogwarts.

He's going to Hogwarts!

It feels surreal.

***

Aletris didn't trip on the bags at the door only due to his wonderful ability to walk blind. He stepped over and took in the scene in moments. Jacinta was putting away groceries, singing louder than usual. Florine was in the living room, for a given value of in, considering the amount of smoke bleeding off her into the air, wrapped around with Hawthorne.

He left them to it, instead helping Jacinta. She didn't look at him for long, but she greeted him by bumping into him. He bumped back, and when her singing stuttered a few minutes later, started a new beat.

She sang along.

***

Clemencia grabbed for the nearest hand, looking in horror at the crowded interior of the Leaky Cauldron. How the heck did it manage to get more crowded than when booklists came?

"Looks like we're aiming to be done before lunch," Aletris said, on the other side of Harry. Florine was after him, fingers curled into his sleeve, with Jacinta looped tightly at the elbow and keeping up a running commentary in Sign Language. Hana brought up the rear, wand in her teeth. She wasn't hanging on yet.

Clemencia groaned.

Hana shook her head. "Just- let's do this fast."

Clemencia took off through the crowd to the back alley. The tavern was hidden with repelling charms, strong enough that Aletris always closed his eyes and let them guide him in to avoid a debilitating headache. Once inside, the entrance to the actual shopping district was down a dingy hallway, back outside to a group of rubbish bins and a blank brick wall. She wasn't sure why there were so many layers of concealment on the shopping district, but it did give her a chance to stop and look back at her littlest brother. "Ready for this, Haz?"

Harry nodded at her.

She slipped her wand out of the pocket she'd sewn into her sleeve, and reached up to tap the proper brick. Edge of the gray rubbish bin, five up, seven left, and a double tap.

***

Harry gasped. It wasn't… it wasn't a new sight, not really, but somehow it felt like one.

Maybe because this was the first time he was going as a student.

Usually by now one of them had pushed forward, but it seemed everyone was waiting for Harry to lead the way. He didn’t move. The alley was bright and casually magical, with storefronts whose letters moved and displays that flickered with enchantments to mimic screens; the people were a hodgepodge of not-quite-Victorian dress and robes, with various headwear that Harry found himself cooing over and side-eyeing in turns.

And yet, despite the familiar sight, despite the support at his back, he wasn’t moving. Someone slipped their hand back into his, squeezing. Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He squeezed Florine’s hand in return, and then glanced up at her. “Can we skip the threshold?”

“Sure.”

There was the uncomfortable feeling of his skin ripping apart, the rush of tripping into snow or a cold river, of standing too close to a fire, frostbite and freezer burn, and then he inhaled sharply as his lungs reformed. Florine had reformed them in the same positions, so Harry tugged her arm up so he could spin in and curl up; Aletris' swing dancing lessons had been passed on and reappropriated. She moved with him, pressing him to her side.

"Come on," Jacinta said from behind, skittering her fingers up his shoulder blade. "Your friends are waiting."

And, like he always had and always would, Harry believed her.

He shifted so he wasn't leaning quite so much weight onto Florine's side, and as a unit, they stepped forward.

***

"It wasn't this crowded last time," Harry said, looking at the lines inside the bank apprehensively. Jacinta had linked elbows with him as they climbed the stairs, and was now building a twelve string leaf pattern bookmark.

"No, it wasn't," Clemencia agreed, eyeing the crowds both inside and out with distaste. “We usually come early so we avoid the letters crowd, I wonder what’s going on?”

“I haven’t seen signs for any sales or book signings,” Hana said. “Maybe it’s a holiday?”

“I don’t remember any holidays in July, but I guess it’s possible.”

“Wasn’t there something about celebrating some famous kid’s birthday last year?” Aletris asked.

Hana hummed. “That’s possible, if ridiculous.” She leaned forward and hugged Aletris, before opening one of the large doors for her family. Florine didn’t try to enter this time, just squeezed Harry’s hand before stepping back, fully solid. Aletris stayed out with her. Harry watched as the Goblin Guard’s dark eyes followed Florine until she was off their property, which began at the large marble steps.

Jacinta led them to a line, still focusing on her bookmark.

Harry leaned into her side and looked around. This wasn’t the first time he’d visited Gringotts Wizarding Bank (and every time he wondered at the name; the bank was run by Goblins, so why was it called the wizarding bank? Is there another branch for Centaurs and Werewolves? He’d been trying to find Gringotts Muggling Bank for three years and thus far had failed miserably) but Harry still found the architecture awe-inspiring. It felt like stepping into an ancient cathedral, the ones that featured in books on Renaissance art and stained glass history, if cathedrals were done out of brilliant white stone instead of deep wood.

There were golden arches and inlays, patterned in such a way that Harry was sure they were some sort of hieroglyph, a tall domed ceiling, and no visible light fixtures. The desks lined the walls closest to the door, leaving the open floor for wizards to stand in twisty lines and walk around each other.

Sadly, there weren’t any stained glass inlays. Harry didn’t know much about wizarding history, but he’s sure that anything important enough to become a stained glass window would be fascinating.

Hana and Clem had moved on in conversation, talking about book lists and wondering if this year would be the year they’d get a decent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Harry enjoyed people watching instead.

Some of the wixen were polite to the Goblins, some were sneering, some looked annoyed, and then there were the ones that looked scared. Harry couldn’t blame them that much; Goblins had little, dark eyes like guinea pigs, shark sharp teeth, and leathery, komodo dragon skin; if komodo dragons came in brown and gold. All in all, they were intimidating when you first met them, but it hadn’t taken Harry long to realize they were pretty chill. Loved money, loved weapons, loved to see who could make more interesting threats (Harry had gotten a lot of points for ‘by the time I’m done you won’t have enough soul to reincarnate into a flobberworm’, which he was quite proud of. Even if he hadn’t known until then that souls were real, and could be affected by magic), didn’t like people, and didn’t like threats to their safety.

Hence why Florine had a permanent ban, despite never even misting inside the building. Apparently they could recognize what she was, and didn’t want to risk that in their tunnels.

And even then, they hadn’t been horrible, once they got past the whole ‘ax at her throat bit’. (The ax did not survive the encounter. Florine did.)

Aletris called it Orange-Blue Morality. Florine said Black-White Morality was boring anyway.

“But are you sure he’ll still be using Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?” Hana said. “The upper years keep expecting him to die over the summer, we might not even get Kettleburn.”

Textbook lists often didn't go out until August, or at the very least later in July, which led to a mob nearly as bad as Boxing Day sales caused. The Ravenclaws had teamed up to ensure they could go shopping whenever (not very many of them liked crowds, which Hawthorne could understand) by talking to upper years and the teachers. Except for Defense Against the Dark Arts, they had a margin of 89% success for getting the right books by passing down old booklists, and that was just because no DADA teacher seemed capable of staying more than a year.

“That one’s on my list,” Harry said.

His sisters turned to look at him, then shot each other questioning looks. “Really?” Clem said. “I wonder who’d be using it.”

“Isn’t DADA supposed to cover creatures at some point?” Hana asked.

“Oh thank goodness, we will have a good teacher this year.”

Harry stifled his giggles, glancing at them in open adoration.

Clemencia Doe was a thirteen year old witch, with white skin and Robin's-egg-blue tips dyed through her short black hair. Her eyes were also blue, although they were river-dark and could easily be mistaken for hazel. She was older of the 'twins', and had a tendency to force situations to work out in her favor, no matter how unusual or unlikely.

Hana Griffiths was younger by four months and not afraid to start a fight. Her best friend outside of the Garden was a Hufflepuff, which explained a lot. She too was white, with dark brown hair she kept longer than her sister's, at mid-bicep. Currently it was loose, brushing her shoulder blades. Hana's eyes were also blue, but a much brighter, clearer shade.

Jacinta, turning twenty-one in two months, was eight years older, with fathomless black eyes that would glow blue when Something Was Happening, brown skin, and darker brown hair, cut to her elbows. Playing with it was another of her coping methods, as was letting her siblings do the same.

Then of course, there was Harry himself. He could whine about how there were no mirrors in Gringotts, but he didn’t need a mirror to know exactly what he looked like at any given point. Harry’s… abnormality was that he could shapeshift. He had a form for each of his siblings, whenever he wanted to feel biologically theirs, and he had his own face. Black hair that curled, pale skin, and bright green eyes. Long fingers, a flat nose, none of Aletris’ freckles or Jacinta’s moles. Although he’d dimmed his eyes today, from smooth greensnake to a muted swamp that made him look more like Clemencia.

Clemencia and he still looked like biological siblings when he was himself, and sometimes he imagined they’d have been cousins had their parents not died.

They were still debating whether or not it was worth it to go off last year’s third-year booklist when they reached a teller. Like most tellers at Gringotts, he was a Goblin. It was a Goblin run bank, so it made sense that Human employees were few and far between.

"We have three for the Hogwarts vault," Hana said, looking up. Despite Goblins being short, they set up their desks tall enough they could look down on most, if not all wizards. The teller sneered down at her.

"Keys?"

They handed their key cards over together, and after a moment of silent inspection, were told everything was 'in order'. The teller called over another Goblin, ("Griphook!") and Jacinta unhooked her elbows and waved them off with a kiss each.

"And you?" The Goblin asked.

Harry didn’t hear Jacinta’s response, but having stayed with her the last two years he knew she had just silently offered up her own key.

“Boneclaw! Take Ms. Rosier to her vault.”

He pretended the tick in his jaw was because he was going into the tunnel system for the first time. Which, to be fair, he was a little nervous. Aletris had gladly stayed out with Florine after saying the carts put him off rollercoasters forever.

On the other hand, Clemencia said it was the most fun of any Diagon trip.

They ended up piling into a minecart, of all things, and setting off down a set of dark railroad tracks.

It was terrifying, and fun. Harry was absolutely joining Clemencia's camp.

Unlike the glowing marble in the main room, the tunnels were lit with lanterns that became orange blurs as the cart picked up speed, pointing downhill. Harry forced himself to look as well as he could, keeping track of their turns just because he could. Many of the turns were jerky, or fake-outs, which were terrifying, and he wasn’t sure if Hana would be able to hear when they finished.

The tunnels, too, were rough-hewn and in some places it looked more like they were going through wide, dark caverns, full of stalagmites and stalactites and some things that looked like actual jewels. Did the goblins use these tunnels as a proper mine? Did they have canaries?

…was there a spell to use so they wouldn’t need a canary to ensure the mine was safe?

Harry was still wondering about that when they reached the Hogwarts Vault. Harry had to lean on his sister because his legs were shaky, which was ridiculous because he hadn’t even used them!

Bodies are weird.

“How do you remember which is a stalactite versus a stalagmite?” He asked, watching Griphook stroke a finger down the side of the vault door frame.

It was Hana who answered. “There’s a rhyme. I think it’s… the ones on the ceiling have to hold tight so they don’t touch the floor, and the ones on the ground might reach the ceiling?"

“That sounds right,” Clemencia agreed. “I learned it as stalactites have a C for ceiling, and Stalagmites have a G for ground.”

The door shuddered, and then melted away. That looked so cool. Harry wondered if they taught that to the other bankers, because he definitely wanted to learn.

“Come on,” Clem said, leading the way. “I want to stay for dinner.”

Harry frowned, but stood up and followed. Clemencia’s current foster family had a curfew, which was fine, and logical, except it was eight in the evening and meant Clemencia barely got to spend time with them.

The vault was tidy, a room carved from stone with layers and layers of little bags hanging from hooks along the walls. They looked like red velvet, with little golden drawstrings. Hana grabbed one for both of them before dropping cross-legged on the floor to ‘key’ it.

Harry fiddled with his, watching as she used her wand to make her finger bleed, before smearing it down the drawstring. The rope didn’t glow, as he half-expected it to; instead, Hana’s blood flashed spring green before vanishing.

“Do you want help with yours?” Hana asked. Harry caught a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye and knew Clemencia had done the same thing.

“What does it do?” He asked, even as he held out his hand for her to poke.

“It’s a blood based enchantment, makes it so no one else can open it.”

Harry paused. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

Hana opened her mouth, but something in his face made her think twice. She murmured a quick spell to heal both their fingers, and handed him hers. “Here, shift and see if you can get in.”

Two years ago, Jacinta had taken a pre-med class and part of it was learning how to test blood types. Harry’s had changed based on how deeply he shifted into someone else - and, once he’d learned how to do it to just his blood, as he chose.

He didn’t normally think too deeply about it, just accepted that it took more work to shift into a deep copy of Aletris than it did any of his sisters. He wasn’t sure why, considering it took more shifting of organs to truly copy any of them, but more often coloring was enough so it wasn’t like it bothered him.

Harry closed his eyes, felt the change wash over him like a wave of warmth, settling into the feel of Hana Griffiths. Hana felt like sunburns, like standing in a windy meadow and knowing it won’t last. She smelled like vanilla flowers and heliotrope, the same thing Jacinta Saw but could never explain. He felt his hair lengthen and smooth, the weight falling differently. He felt his organs rearrange, his limbs grow. When he pulled, the bag opened halfway before stopping.

He handed it back to her. Clem stopped beside them, looking down in concern. “Everything okay?”

“I’m scared it’ll lock on me,” Harry admitted, falling into his ‘default’ skin in a rush of relaxing muscles and cracking bones. He didn’t like growing his limbs, it always left him awkward and uncoordinated,

The vaguely painful heat on his skin faded, the damp smell of the cavern replacing immaterial winds and flowers.

“Just do it as yourself,” Clem said warmly. “You’re you, Harry, no matter what your face looks like or your blood reads. And if it does mess with it, just use your own face.” Clemencia wasn’t a seer, but sometimes it seemed like the universe answered to her, instead of the other way around. Thus, he believed her.

He grinned up at Clemencia, and closed his eyes, making sure he was himself, completely comfortable in his skin. It felt like flopping into bed, comfortable and safe, warm and unequivocally his.

Hawthorne Doe was a ten year old with glowing eyes and skin that didn’t break, he could talk to snakes and steal faces like a fae left behind. He was young and hopeful and loved with his whole soul, he had nightmares that felt more like memories and he was raised by traumatized pre-teens. He was an orphan and despite that fact had a family he would fight for. His magic smelled like lightning and cold metal, felt like granite and silk.

When he opened his eyes, they were glowing bright enough he could see light reflected on the backs of his hands.

He reached out, let Hana cut his finger and keyed himself into the bag before shifting his skin back over the cut, healing it prematurely. Clemencia helped them both up, before leading them out and to the minecart.

The ride back up was just as fast, even without gravity adding momentum. Harry hid his face in Hana’s back because the air was cold, and he wanted to.

They quite literally stumbled back into the light, not taking nearly enough time to readjust their eyes, and ducked outside to wait on the steps for Jacinta. The sunlight on the marble hurt, especially since they’d just been underground instead of in the equally-bright lobby.

Jacinta was already outside, sitting a few stairs below the Goblin guards and drawing, singing under her breath. Harry flopped down beside her, leaned into her side as he absently shifted. His second favorite form was the one that looked like her biological brother, with brown skin and shorter, fluffier hair, although he never tried to match her eyes. His own were plenty unusual, thank you.

“Just a second,” she hummed, leaning back into him. “Where to first?”

Clemencia grimaced, looking out at the crowds that had not lightened in the slightest. Harry had never seen the alley this crowded. “It looks like there’s less people around the offshoots, maybe it’d be best to duck to Knockturn first.”

“You just want your books,” Hana accused lightheartedly.

Her sister stuck her tongue out, leaning heavily on her. “Or maybe I want to convert Harry to the side of antique books.”

“I’d read them if I weren’t afraid of them falling apart in my hands!”

“Sure.”

“What’s on your list, Hawthorne?” Jacinta asked softly. Harry pulled it out of his bag, and spread it on his knee.

The supply list was separated into three easy sections; Uniform, Books, and Other Supplies.

“Three ‘plain work robes’ in black, a black hat, probably the cliche one some of them-” he gestured to the throng below, “-are wearing. Protective gloves?”

“For herbology,” Clemencia said. “Lots of magical plants are worse than poison ivy and stinging nettles. And that’s without touching anything with thorns or teeth.”

Harry stared. “The plants have teeth?”

“Sometimes.”

How had he not heard of this yet? Were they going to get a biting plant for the apartment? …actually, that didn’t sound like such a terrible idea.

“Anything else?” Jacinta asked distractedly. She was hunched over her drawing, adding more details to someone’s hair.

“A winter cloak. And nametags, but I’m not sure if those’ll be here.”

She hummed.

“Then there’s books, a wand, a pewter cauldron, glass phials, an 'astronomy starter's set', brass scales, and a pet. Cat, toad, or owl.”

“You can probably sneak Celosia in,” Clemencia said. “One of my yearmates said he was gonna get a tarantula this year, and I know an upper year with a pet rat, plus the four prefects with ferrets. I’m sure nobody will care so long as he behaves himself.”

“Celosia always behaves himself,” Harry said, mock-indignantly. “Do we need our own Potions ingredients?”

“If you want to practice outside of class, yes, but wait till we get there. If you decide extra practice is good we’ll hook you up with the smugglers,” Hana said.

“They’re almost here,” Jacinta said.

“It might be worth getting your wand first,” Clemencia offered, leaning bracingly on his shoulder. “That’s- that’s a pretty great feeling.”

Harry’s answer was cut off by a familiar voice shouting. “Harry! Heliotrope! Salvia! Cornflower!”

“Over here!” Clem called back, jumping up to wave like a maniac.

Harry didn’t look up, but he wondered if Florine had dissolved. She could carry most of them when she discorporated to travel, but Aletris always had bad reactions. She’d have to either leave him behind or run loops, if she did.

Jacinta was drawing what looked like a framed photograph, one of the ones with an ornate, oddly shaped frame. It almost looked like a Victorian standing mirror, with the sheen over some of the faces and the curls and spires at the top.

He finally looked up when Hana yelled too.

“Tansy!”

Florine did flicker then, just dust for the last few steps. “Ready to go?”

Harry smiled widely up at her, ignoring that they hadn’t actually picked a destination. “Absolutely! Where are we going?”

She and Aletris shared a look that screamed conspirator, and she offered him her hand, palm up. Celosia, curled around her wrist, looked up and scented him. “Want to go and see the magic snakes?”

The answer was, obviously, absolutely.

#Harry Potter #Hawthorne Doe #Jaymeow Writes #Crossposting Spam #TRTR #This Is The Road To Ruin #Hyacinth Au #Saturday Updates #Florine Dupont #Jacinta Perez #Clemencia Doe #Clemencia Riddle #Hana Griffiths #Aletris Carson #Wbwl #Harry Potter fic

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leaveitbythewave · 2 months

Text

the weed.

Chapter 4.

The meal of choice was citrus glazed salmon with pan seared scallops and a garden salad. It was a beautiful spread of meat and vegetables on a golden plate with matching silverware.

Sir James sat at the head of the table and we only began eating after he had lifted his fork. Not that this was a practice that had to be done but it was just something we had all picked up after watching countless hours of period films.

“Susanna has really outdone herself. This salmon is divine. Venetia darling, have some.” Sir James remarks as he lays out the cloth napkin across his lap.

Nodding her head she cuts the salmon into small pieces and takes slow bites.

I watch her carefully knowing that I will have to make sure to stand near the bathroom after dinner and give her plenty of words of affirmation. Truly it breaks my heart that she feels such hatred towards herself.

“Oliver, how do you find the salmon?” Elspeth says.

“Oh, it’s wonderful. I haven’t ever had a meal this nice.” He responds by digging into his salmon.

His eyes meet mine and for a second I can see a switch in his character. His once young, doe-eyed stare turns into a tilted sinister more dominant smirk but as soon as I see it, it has vanished and he goes back to his salmon.

Not realizing I am still staring, Felix kicks my ankle with his foot, “something more interesting than dinner Margot?”. His words are dripping with sarcasm as the fork slides suggestively across his tongue.��

Shifting my eyes to Felix I smirk at his suggestive manner, “I was just thinking that tomorrow might be the day we show Oliver what it’s like to be a weed.”

“A what?” Oliver questions wiping the corners of his mouth.

“Oh sweet boy, the things you have yet to learn.” Venetia comments while taking a sip of her wine.

Mingling in the weeds is something we have done since we were teenagers. It began as a peaceful place to think and read and evolved into leaving everything behind and becoming one with the weeds, and yes that means clothing too.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Honestly, how hard is it to find a rich vampire to look at me once and instantly fall in love. I mean if a plain girl like Bella can find it by simply walking into fucking biology…” Venetia has been reading the Twilight series this summer and has now found another issue with the current world we live in, there are no vampires.

“Here’s a question I would love answered…would the sex with a vampire be good?” I say pushing my glasses up on my head.

“Obviously. I mean they would have had plenty of time to practice.” Venetia snorts.

“That is a fair point but I mean they are dead…so wouldn’t it be like ice cold and if an erection is caused by blood flow how does that work if they are dead. Like do they use the blood they have consumed from others to do that…”

“Ollie! Thank god, please come and save us from this conversation,” Felix holds up his hands in prayer at Oliver’s arrival.

Oliver nods his head and begins walking towards the field as Farleigh’s voice stops him, “everything stays behind…even the linens.”

Oliver’s eyes shift from each person but none of us move. His hands grip the top of his bottoms as he slowly pulls them down.

Venetia and I share a smirk and we can hear Farleigh’s chime of approval.

“So what do you all do out here?”

“Whatever we want.” Venetia laughs.

Lightly humming to myself I lean back and rest on the grass with my hands placed on the ground running my fingers over the small patches. I feel the light touch of a fingertip tracing my wrist and I try to compose myself so the others don’t notice.

“I’ve barely touched you and your body is already reacting to me…”

I take in a sharp breath as I feel the warm breath from his words and the touch of his lips on the shell of my ear.

“You’re making this just too easy…for what would Felix think? While he’s there, enjoying his classic first edition and you’re here trying to hold your breath…scared you might unfold right here…by a single touch…”

With each vowel he pushes past his lips I can feel mine growing dry. I lightly slip my tongue between my lips and wet them while my cheeks hollow in from holding my breath. The way he is able to get inside my head and make me forget the current spot I am in…he’s dangerous.

Feeling a sense of confidence, I lift my glasses from my face and roll over onto my stomach smirking at him.

“You sure have a lot of confidence for a man who just arrived by invitation. How do you know that the shift in my body movement wasn’t from the wind?”

He leans his head down low, moving his eyes from the bodies behind us making sure they aren’t gawking and he gently caresses my chin. He doesn’t say a word but the way he is looking at me, it’s like he is looking through me. The man looking at me is not the boy that I had met back at school. His hand moves down to my neck and he gives it a small squeeze and as quick as it happens, it’s over. He lays back on the ground and places his arm over his eyes.

Venetia pats her book on my shoulder and when I turn around to look at her, her sunglasses are pushed down to the bridge of her nose and she is smirking at me. I give her a look that reads don’t tell and she nods her head, placing her finger in front of her mouth and making the appropriate sound.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Laying on my bed my hands find a loose string on the bottom of my shirt. Twirling it around my finger I watch the once pink based skin turn purple…he’d probably make me-

“Madame, your presence is requested downstairs.” Miriam the housekeeper says after bursting through the room.

Making my way down the staircase I hear the echoes of frustration bouncing off the walls once I reach the final step.

“YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT BLEED THIS FAMILY DRY THE SECOND THE CAR PARKED AND LET DROPPED YOU OFF.”

Much like a family dinner when we were kids, I find my peers hiding in a corner with their eyes casted to the ground hoping they are not brought into the conversation.

“What’s got your dad so upset?” I ask, placing my hand in Venetia’s open one.

“Farleigh apparently has been in communication with someone regarding my father’s Palissy plates that he wanted to sell…” Felix murmurs chewing on the toothpick in his mouth.

“What the fuck Farleigh…how did he find out?”

“The joker cc’d him on the email.”

Hearing the stomping coming our way, we all look towards the clearing near the stairs. Farleigh stops and runs his hands over his face. The distress is painted all over him. He wipes his eyes and once he sees us all standing to the left he rushes over.

“I didn’t do this. You, you have to believe me. I don’t even know what those fucking plates are.” He pleads while looking at Felix.

Without saying a word Felix shakes his head and keeps his head pointed towards the ground.

“Margot…Margot you have to believe me. I wouldn’t do this. I wouldn’t hurt the family, or sacrifice my home like this. You have to believe me please…please mar.” His cries are raspy and if this had happened prior to him throwing me like garbage…I probably would have acted differently.

“Oh but Farleigh…I’m just a little girl that doesn’t stand up for herself and is going to be…what was the phrase you used…on the edge of the bed on my back waiting for the money to fall.”

Backing up from his grasp I feel Oliver’s hand on my lower back guide me to the group again. Leaning into his touch Farleigh’s eyes squint in understanding. He nods his head slowly and glances at all of us before walking out of the door.

Felix and Venetia move towards the door to watch him jump in the car while Oliver and I stay in the same spot. His hand moves from its place on my back down to the top of my skirt, then the bottom before running his finger up the back of my thigh to the inside when I let out a small gasp.

“Shh…now be a good girl for me and stay nice and quiet…we wouldn’t want them seeing us.” Oliver whispers as he moves my panties to the side and easily slides his middle finger inside me.

As soon as he finds a smooth rhythm, the others turn around and he removes his finger, letting it linger on the outside.

“Margot, are you okay? Your face is flushed.” Venetia remarks holding onto my cheeks.

Nodding, I gave a small smile and released the breath I had been holding, “yeah I think I just need to go lay down. It is really hot in this room and I am feeling quite faint.”

Moving towards the stairs I turn my neck towards them when I reach the second step and both Oliver and Felix are staring at me. Oliver with a look of knowing and accomplishment and Felix…with sadness?

Walking up the staircase, I take slow strides coming to terms with what I’m doing. Felix asked me not to make this a thing and here I am not intentionally making it a thing but…i am also not stopping it.

Stopping right in front of my door I take a deep inhale and exhale slowly. Shaking my head I open the door and close it gently behind me hearing footsteps coming up behind me…

#oliver quick #saltburn fanfiction #felix catton

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deadlifts-and-deadlines · 3 months

Text

Today is day two of the ice storm.

The first picture is how thick the ice was when I scraped off my car around 1:30pm yesterday. I haven’t been outside yet today, but it’s been raining most of the night and it has been hovering around freezing so it might not be too frozen out, but it is still slick. Picture two is Ender’s decorated cookies; he went over to Mimi and grandpas for a cousin cookie party yesterday afternoon - perks of living in the same neighborhood as our family. One of my SIL’s makes a massive batch of sugar cookies every Christmas and just kind of doles them out over the next few months for the little kids to play with and decorate. They aren’t edible, but they love to decorate and it keeps them busy so I approve, lol.

I am tired AF and feel like I’m running on fumes. No appetite. No solid poops. The stomach and chest pain has subsided significantly though, and I actually felt pretty good once I got up and going yesterday. It sounds fake, but working out and getting moving in the early AM helps me so much. I can’t really do CF of anything heavy or cardio intensive during these times, but light lifting and bodybuilding style workouts seem to energize me. So I usually work out, shower, try and actually get dressed, clean the house up a little, eat something small, and then I can usually trick myself into feeling well enough to keep going, or I go down, but at least then I accomplished something for the day.

I take Stelara on Saturday, but if I have another night like I did on Sunday night I will probably take it sooner. I don’t think a couple days will make a huge difference in the scheme of things but it does mean the difference between me getting really sick for a few days. I refuse to go to the ER within the week of an injection, I’m not paying for that even though it’s cheaper for my insurance to do it this way then just… give me the dosing I need. I would legit just take the shot early. I’m a little nervous though because my prescription for the next 8 weeks hasn’t been released yet… and I have still heard nothing from the GI or insurance so I have no idea what’s going on. Usually I have the next injection within a couple weeks of having to take the first. So I’m a little nervous I’m getting taken off of it. I guess I should call and find out; I’m so sick of spending time on the phone dealing with this shit - honestly it is a full time job on top of being chronically sick - another full time job!

I’m going to figure this out though. We’re getting closer, but I truly never thought it would be this long and complicated of a process for me. I don’t know why. I think I just thought that as soon as we got a diagnosis we’d know what to do. Now it feels like the more we try the more we find out is wrong with me 🤣

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talia-rumlow · 1 year

Text

My Saviour (Rumlow X Reader) Chapter Fourtyfive - He Really Does Like You!

– I was actually coming to talk to you. Pierce approved you, and I asked some of the guys if they wanted to go out an celebrate. If you’re up for it.

Pierce approved you? You’re not even done with your training yet. You haven’t even used the knife. And you’re not familiar with combat under water. Or IN water..

– He what?

You can almost see Rollins’ smile through the phone.

– He saw how you did at target practice, and he always keeps one eye on the training area. Guess he thought you were ready. So? Celebrate?

Celebrate? Well, you do need a drink.

– Sure. I’ll celebrate with you. Oh, crap..

You take a deep breath and look towards your bathroom. Getting ready will not be easy, closing in on impossible in this mess.

– Something on your mind? I do believe he’ll be there, if that’s what you’re thinking about. He’s your boss after all.

– No, no, that’s not what I’m asking. It’s just that my shower is smashed…

You sigh. Perfect. Drinks with Rumlow and the guys, and you’re gonna show up looking like a rag doll.

– I’ll come and pick you up, YN. You can use my shower. No problem.

You hang up. Look down on your body. You still have your gear on. Maybe you should pack something else to wear out tonight. This outfit feels like an invite to a fight.

You just finish packing a bag, when Rollins knocks on your door. You throw the bag over your shoulder, and go to open.

The first thing you see, when you open the door is a paper with your picture on it, your information, and at the very bottom, Pierces signature and a red «APPROVED» stamped over it.

– Agent YLN! Ready for your first assignment?

You laugh a bit. Like a celebration is an assignment.

– And what might that be, Agent Rollins?

– Fix things with Agent Rumlow! We have to trust each other out there, we are responsible for each others lifes. Communication is Key!

You close your eyes.

«I thought you said I wasn’t worth it!»

He probably won’t even talk to you now. Maybe you should just quit. You don’t want to bother Rollins with that, so instead you fake a smile.

– Maybe after a few drinks. Right now I want to take that shower.

—————————————

Rollins’ apartment is just two blocks away from Rumlows. Also on the top floor. Aside from the interiour the apartments are identical. Rollins sits down on his couch.

– The bathroom is yours, Agent.

Happy that you can finally take a shower, and put on some clothes that doesn’t scream «fight me now» you walk into the bathroom. In there, you find a new set of gear for you. SHIELD mark on the arm. Just like all the other Agents have. You lift up the gear belt. Is it just you, or is this heavier? You pop your head out of the bathroom door.

– Jack! I can’t wear this tonight!

– Yes, you can. We all do. Remember, this is a part of your body now! Learn to live with it!

Listen to him, YN! He’s the one who trained you. He’s the one that got you approved….

…..And if your gut feeling is correct. Some dumbass drunk guy is going to try and fight you tonight. Let’s just hope he’s really drunk…

————————————————-

The shower helped. And you weren’t wrong when you felt the gear belt being heavier. There is some new additions to it. A retraction rope, and extra ammunition to name a few. Are these guys expecting a fight all the time? Will you also have to expect that now?

It’s already dark, when you walk towards the pub down the street. The same pub you met Br… Rumlow in. You take a deep breath. Just a couple of drinks. If it get’s too weird, you can always go to the hotel you booked.

– Nervous, YN? Come on, you deserve this. First round is on me!

Rollins voice drags you back to reality.

– A little bit.. I mean, what do I say to him. Communication haven’t exactly been blooming lately.

– Say what you feel, YN!

You stop. Do you even know what you feel anymore? Sure, you love him. But is that enough? Will you be able to live with him and this mood swings, his temper? His inability to say what’s really on his mind?

Rollins stops a couple of steps in front of you. Turns around.

– Changed your mind? You don’t want to go?

He comes over to you. Takes a hold of your shoulders.

– Listen, YN! Rumlow is an Alpha male! And we can be difficult from time to time. But from what I know about you, you’re an Alpha female. So you should be able to take it. Make him talk, YN! It’ll get better then.

Make him talk? Talk about what? All he cares about is his job! He called what you talked about pillow talk. All he cares about is following orders, SHIELD and hiding his emotions. Maybe it used to be you… But it’s not anymore…

– Hey, YN! He really does like you. Trust me. I can tell. I’ve known him since we were 18. Two drinks. Then you can leave!

Fine.. You can manage two drinks. Only two. To celebrate, right? Come on, YN. You can do this.

A lot of the other Agents are already there when you arrive. You know some of them. But some of them you haven’t even met yet. Rollins introduces you as the new asset on the team, the conversation centers around your training, and how highly Pierce talks about you. You try to concentrate, and answer their questions. But your mind is filled with Rumlow, and there is a guy at your table that keeps sending you hard looks. You don’t know why. Is he mad because you’re a girl, or does he think that you got a place on the team because of Rumlow? You try to send a hard look back, but he just continues to look at you. This whole situation is making you nervous. What is this guys problem?

– Started without me I see…

Rumlows voice behind you. You don’t turn around. But when he sits down on the empty chair next to you, you look at him. He glances at you. But nothing more.

You keep talking to the others. This is actually pretty nice, all things considered.

– Hey hey, wait up.. I just have to put my make up on first..

The angry guy from across the table, he looks at you when he’s talking. But you can tell that he’s talking ABOUT you, and not TO you. Where did this comment come from? Haven’t you proved your worth? Your skills? Isn’t it enough that Pierce approved you?

Rumlow slams his hand down on the table. You jump.

– WHAT!?!?

Rumlow looks at the guy, and you recognise the look from that day out in the hall, outside his office. When he fired that guy, and everybody found out about your relationship.

– It was a joke, Rumlow!

The other guys voice almost trembling. Is he scared of Rumlow?

– We do NOT crack jokes on fellow Agents expense! Especially the females!

The guy swallows. He doesn’t take his eyes away from Rumlow. It’s almost like he thinks that Rumlow can jump over the table and beat his ass at any second. This was supposed to be a nice quiet evening. Why does things like this continue to happen to you? You stand up.

– I… I’m just gonna go and PUT MY MAKE UP ON!

You emphasis the words, and look at the guy. Hopefully he’ll stop while he’s still ahead. You don’t want to watch this unfold. So you leave for the ladies room.

Again you find yourself standing in there. Leaning against the sink. Looking at yourself in the mirror. The only thing that changed are your outfit, and your fighting skills. If someone assaults you now, you can easily overpower them. Rollins taught you good. You take a deep breath, before walking out the door.

– Hey, YN! Wait up!

You turn around. It’s that guy. Did he follow you?

– What’s up?

You try to sound casual and calm, but you feel like your voice is shaking. You can handle yourself, YN. What are you afraid of?

He comes all the way up in your face. You maintain eye contact, like Rollins taught you.

– Rumlow kicked my Brother off the squad, and then suddenly we’re going Co-ed. And you, YOU’RE fucking your way up the floors aren’t you?

He lifts his arm. Is he going to hit you? Your mind instantly goes back to David. How he hit you, again and again. How you day after day, week after week, moth after month, year after year went to work with the same black eye, and the same excuse.

And then, you remember the night you met Rumlow. Davids hand around your throat. How you though you were going to die. How Rumlow yanked him away from you.

You look at the guys arm again, ready to hit you.

– Let’s see how good you really are. Little Bitch!

You can’t move. You completely freeze up. It’s like your brain isn’t functioning. Come on, YN! You can easily put this guy down.

Someone grabs his arm. You’re so inside your own head, that you don’t even know if it’s you or not. One quick movement forward, then back again. The guy goes down like a twig.

– What the fuck, Rumlow! You broke my arm!

You look up. Rumlow looks down at the guy on the floor.

– Serves you right! Don’t bother showing up at work on Monday! Now, get the fuck out of my face!

The guy get to his feet, and run away. You look at Rumlow, looking at you. He looks at you like your boss. Like you did something wrong, or like the teacher did, if you failed a test, or didn’t do your homework. You swallow. Is he going to kick you out now?

– You froze!

He’s not mad. Just determined. Like he want’s to teach you something.

– I….

You don’t get to say anything else, before your lips collide in a kiss so intense you almost lose your ability to breathe….

@nekoannie-chan @here4thefanfics @late-to-the-party-81

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#jack rollins #brock rumlow #brock rumlow fanfiction #brock rumlow x reader #rumlow

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