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whisker-biscuit · 3 years

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The Birds, The Bees, and The Bottles

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T for mild language and discussions of underage drinking

Summary: Two teens are caught trying to sneak into a bar. Bob finally has a conversation he’s held off for far too long.

Because herbaphony is not the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family.

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Bob’s phone rang at two in the morning. Judging by the jolly ringtone of Helmut singing Strawberry Fields Forever, it was his personal phone instead of his work one, and that was the real tip off to things being very, very wrong.

He woke up and groggily pulled out of his still-slumbering-husband’s arms to answer the little thing going off on his nightstand.

“H’lo?”

“Bob!” Truman’s voice came out far too loud for the time of night, and far too stressed. “Bob, I’m so sorry to wake you, but something happened with Lili. I need you to pick her up for me, please.”

The older man sat up, much more awake as worry and fear immediately rolled in his gut. Helmut finally began to stir beside him, sensing his partner’s agitation.

“Truman, what’s going on? Pick Lili up from where?”

“The city’s police precinct on Abbey Avenue. She – she called me, but I’m out of state and I wouldn’t get there for hours at least even if I left this instant. She’s not in danger!” He added hastily, hearing the concern before Bob could even voice it mentally. “She didn’t get hurt! She’s just…”

The way he tapered off, the way he hesitated, said more than words could.

“She just got herself into some trouble, and she needs someone to go get her.”

Helmut was sitting up now, and Bob felt the question cross their mental link.

What happened?

Truman needs me to pick Lili up from the police station.

“I’m up, I’m on my way right now,” He responded to his nephew verbally, heaving himself out of bed. His husband followed suit despite still looking extremely puzzled, bless him.

“Thank you so much, Bob. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The older man waved a dismissive hand even though Truman wasn’t there to see it. “Family is s’pposed to do that for each other anyway.”

“Did I hear that right? Our peppy petunia had a run-in with the law?” Helmut asked as soon as his partner hung up. He paused, and in a lower tone – “she didn’t kill anyone, did she?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Bob said, pulling a coat on over his sleep shirt. “But something tells me we still have a few things to worry about. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Ohohoh, no, don’t even think about hoofin’ it without me. We both know I’m the better driver.”

“Neither of us are very good drivers, Helmut.”

“Exactly! That little bit makes all the difference!”

The herbophanist sighed, charmed despite himself and the situation. “Alright, alright. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

The police precinct was nearly dead at this time of night. While it would’ve felt eerie to anyone else, Bob was grateful for the lack of people, and not just because he was still an introvert of the highest degree.

Two teenagers awaited them in the lobby, sitting on a bench together. One was hunched over and burning a hole in the ground with his downcast eyes. The other sat straight up, defiant, holding a glaring contest with the officer standing over them. When Bob entered the room first and met his great-niece’s eyes, her self-assuredness wavered for a brief moment. She hid the slip-up behind a wall of indifference.

“Lili,” he said softly. Then, just as softly but with a gruff tinge of surprise; “Razputin.”

There was no accusation in his voice, but the former scowled harder and the latter looked like he wanted to employ his invisibility. Bob studied them both a moment before his husband appeared and broke the tension with his mere presence.

“We’re here to bust you out, kiddos!” He announced with spread arms, cheerfully ignoring the looks he received from every person in the room.

“Are you Truman Zanotto?” Asked the officer who finally broke his gaze away from Lili to give them a disapproving once-over.

“No, I’m uh, I’m Bob Zanotto, and this is Helmut,” came the awkward reply. “Truman called me to pick Lili up. She’s my great-niece.”

A few seconds of silence passed as the officer made no move to do anything with that information. Bob cleared his throat.

“We’re, uh, listed in her emergency contacts for school?”

“I see. If you can just fill out some paperwork first, we can release her into your custody.”

The herbophanist watched the way Raz seemed to sink further in his seat at the mention of family contacts. The Aquatos were also out of state right now too, if he remembered correctly. Perfect timing for two minors getting up to mischief.

Well, up until they were actually caught.

“And…Razputin, too?” He asked, catching the teen’s startled gaze and giving him the mental equivalent of a thumbs-up.

The officer raised a brow. “Is he related to you, too?”

“Well, uh –”

“Yep!” Helmut interrupted, strolling right up to Raz and giving him a merry clap on the back. The teen had a physique comparable to most adult Olympic athletes, but even he nearly toppled forward from the force of such a big man. “He’s my third cousin, twice removed. Big family. Very close. Holidays are an experience, lemme tell ya!”

“Fine,” the officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, okay, I’ll make sure he gets cleared for release too. I’ll be right back.”

He stalked off, muttering something about it ‘being too damn early for this’, and the older couple turned to face Raz and Lili. Helmut steepled his fingers together to rest against his mustache.

“So! Now that Officer Spoil-Sport is gone, are we allowed to know what heinous crime has been committed in the night by my favorite pair of mischief-makers?”

The two glanced at each other. Raz was the one to break their silence.

“We, uh…got caught sneaking into a bar.”

Cold heat rushed through Bob’s core. Helmut blinked once, twice, then let out a boisterous chuckle.

“That’s it? Jesus! From the way you two were acting I thought you’d robbed the First National Bank.”

“…Helmut.” His husband murmured. The psi-king lost his mirth as he caught Bob’s eye.

“Ah…w-well, y’know, while I’m certainly glad we won’t hear about a righteous homicide in the news tomorrow, forgery ain’t exactly a humble hobby either.”

“It was just two IDs,” Lili muttered under her breath. “Not a big deal.”

The ice in her great-uncle’s heart turned frigid, but before he or Helmut could say anything to that, the officer was back. He shoved a handful of forms under Bob’s nose and the herbophanist fumbled to grab them before they all tumbled to the floor.

“Uh, uh, thank you.”

“Alright, we’re putting the pause on this conversation to make you free citizens again, but don’t think that means we’re done with it.” The Psi-King gave the teens the sternest look he could manage. “As soon as we get in the car, you two will have a lot of explaining to do.”

“O-Okay.”

“Uh-huh.”

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No one spoke a word as they got in the car and started the drive back.

Raz seemed content to continue his efforts to blend in with the background of his seat, still not meeting anyone’s eyes, and Lili stared out the window with her chin in her hand, leaning against the car’s backdoor and letting the lights of the city bathe her in neon sickness.

Helmut, bless his soul, dutifully kept the radio going while he drove, changing the station to something more mellow whenever a song started getting a little too upbeat for the collective mood of the vehicle. Bob sat in the passenger side with his arms folded awkwardly. His brain was buzzing, dreading the inevitable conversation he needed to have with his great-niece and trying to figure out how he was going to go about it.

It surprised them all when Raz spoke over the music.

“It was my idea.”

The two adults glanced at each other, then through the rearview mirror at the fidgeting teen.

“Your idea to go looking for a drink? Or to sneak into a bar to do it?” Helmut asked, turning off the radio.

“Both.”

He still wasn’t meeting their eyes. Bob sighed through his nose.

“I don’t believe you.”

Razputin’s head finally snapped up to stare at him in shock for the fast call on his bluff. “I’m telling the truth!”

“I think you’re only telling part of it, kid.”

“No! I’m telling all of it.”

“Razpu-”

“Oh, come off it, Raz,” Lili snapped a little too loud, making the whole car jump. “Quit trying to take the fall for me. It was my idea to try the stupid fake ID thing, okay? Happy now?”

“Wh – uh, who said anything about being happy about it?” Helmut asked, legitimately confused.

“Look. Neither of us had anything to do tonight, and we were bored, so Raz suggested getting a drink somewhere, but Adam and Lizzie are out of town so we couldn’t ask them.” She crossed her arms and spoke without any inflection. “So, we went out but no one would let us do anything cause we’re minors. I thought that was stupid, because we’re agents same as any of you, so I came up with the sneaking-in part. We only got caught cause one of the bartenders recognized Raz from a show.”

There were a lot of loaded things to parse through from that explanation, but Bob’s mind stalled on one particular detail.

“Adam and Lizzie give you two alcohol?”

“Not…often,” Raz admitted. “Just once or twice, when we asked.”

“Do you mean like, a literal once or twice, or a…an estimated once or twice?”

“Did Dad put you up to this?” Lili shot back. “It was just a few times, like he said. What’s with the inquisition?”

“…Lili –”

“Raz.”

“Okay!” Helmut proclaimed as he slapped his hand against the steering wheel in boisterous aggression. “Who wants some ice cream?”

Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Cause I’m really feeling some chocolate-vanilla swirl right now. Basic bitch style. Right? Who’s with me?”

Silence.

“Great! Look at that, open Dairy King right there, better take advantage of this opportunity before it slips through our fingers like the melting ice cream we’re all gonna have in about five minutes!”

The psi-king swung into the parking lot in a frenzy and herded the car crew inside before any of them could come out of their shock long enough to protest. It was only as Bob was staring up at fifteen flavors of oversaturated sugary goodness that he realized what had just happened.

He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief over his husband’s diversion. The tension that had been boiling over was cooled significantly by the sudden non-sequitur, and while the teens were rather half-hearted about picking out their sweet treats, there was no longer a risk of an explosion happening.

Metaphorically and literally.

Helmut caught his spouse’s eye with a meaningful look at Lili the moment all of them had their orders in hand, then slung his arm around Razputin’s shoulders and steered him away. “C’mon my lad! Nothing like the cool night air of three in the morning to keep your Hurricane ™ properly chilled!”

The poor boy had no choice but to let himself be pulled outside, leaving the two Zanottos standing awkwardly in the dingy restaurant. Bob gave a nervous scratch at his chin under his beard.

“How about we, uh, find a seat somewhere?”

Lili couldn’t fully cross her arms while holding ice cream, but she did a good job of making it work anyway. “Sure.”

They sat in a booth in the farthest corner from the front counter. Both great-niece and great-uncle stared at their respective sweet treats as if they could teleport them out of this situation. Bob glanced out the window and saw Helmut and Raz standing outside of the car. The former was on one knee with his hand on the teen’s shoulder, speaking earnestly but inaudibly, and the latter was scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt.

“Are you going to lecture me?” Lili finally cut through the silence.

Bob turned back to her. “No. Not really.”

“No?” She broke her gaze away from her ice cream just a little bit, eyeing him with surprise. “Then why did Helmut take Raz and leave us alone?”

She was so perceptive, so smart. And yet, still so young.

“Well, I… I still want to talk to you about what happened. I’m just not very, good, at this kind of thing.” He took his spoon and absentmindedly began drawing a flower in his soft-serve. “You already know what you did wasn’t a good idea, right? So I don’t think a lecture would help things any on that front.”

She didn’t respond. He continued.

“It’s less about the fake ID and more…the reasons you made the fake ID. Does that make sense?”

“I guess so, but I know what I’m doing, Uncle Bob. I’m not going to drink irresponsibly.”

The herbophanist shook his head. “But you’ll do irresponsible things to be able to drink in the first place.”

“That’s not –” Lili didn’t have a good rebuttal. She folded her arms and grumpily started eating her cherry chocolate delight. “Whatever. It’s two different things, anyway.”

Against his better judgement, Bob began picking at his own food as he thought about how best to bring the subject back up without making the teen defensive again. Spoons clicking against teeth was the only sound between them for a solid minute.

Finally, an epiphany.

“Did Truman ever…tell you anything, about your great-grandma?”

The girl paused with a bite halfway up to her mouth. She frowned, confused. “Grandma Tia? Not much. Just that she died when he was a baby.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.” He ran a tired hand over his face. The ache in his heart might have long-since healed into a scar, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when pressed. “She passed away when I was nineteen. The doctors told me it was liver failure.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Lili’s mouth thinned and she put her spoon down, uncomfortable.

“When I…found out the reason behind her death, I was horrified by it. It didn’t make sense to me why she would willingly do something that hurt her so badly, especially when I was right there to love her and help her. It felt like a betrayal that she never got help or made herself stop. I was…disgusted by the mere thought of doing anything like that.”

Bob took a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but better safe than sorry.

“It sounds pretty hypocritical when I say it now, doesn’t it?”

His great-niece only gave him a hesitant look.

“Anyway, uh, where was I…” He worried his lip. “Oh, right. I told myself that I’d never touch the stuff after that. I was angry at what she’d done, and I was determined not to have the same ‘weakness’, so to speak. As you know, it, uh, it didn’t last long. I was at a college party barely a year later when I was invited by some friends to drink with them. I didn’t make human friends very easily back then – actually, I still don’t – so I was a little desperate to keep them. It turned out to be pretty hard whiskey, so I got hammered.”

The man leaned back in his seat, staring at the patterns in the booth table.

“Back then, no one really knew how alcoholism could run in a family. Everyone thought it was a personal choice to keep drinking. It wasn’t even classified as an addiction yet. So I didn’t know how susceptible I was, or how careful I had to be. I’d spend months not having a single drink, thinking I was fine and could handle myself, and then I’d get plastered for a week at parties and bars and God knows what else, and it would take me even longer to get myself to stop again. It was like that even when I was with Ford and his gang. It wasn’t until I started dating Helmut that I started trying to change those habits. I’d never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally that I wanted to be a better person for them, until him. And it worked for a while.

“Well, barring our wedding, of course. I got shitfaced at the reception. It was embarrassing afterwards, but Helmut told me it made our cake-eating ceremony a hell of a great time.”

Lili snorted, and it was accompanied by a tiny upturn of her lips. Then it dropped as her expression became solemn. “And then…everything with Maligula happened, right?”

“Yeah. I think you know the rest of that story.”

“Uh-huh.”

Great-niece and great-uncle sat together for a while, just thinking about it all.

“I know I have to be more careful drinking than a lot of people, Uncle Bob,” Lili finally said at length. “My dad warned me about it when I was old enough to ask.”

“Truman is a good dad,” he murmured in response.

“The best dad.”

“Definitely the best dad.”

More silence.

“I didn’t mean to worry you and him,” she continued. “Or scare you. I know it was dumb to do what we did tonight.”

Bob looked at her, and she gave a conceding sigh.

“Okay, it was dumb to do a lot of what we’ve been doing with this stuff. That doesn’t mean I’m not being careful.”

“Kid, it’s not always just a matter of being careful. I thought I was being careful. I thought that for years and years, and when I finally realized I wasn’t, I convinced myself I could stop any time I wanted to, and kept up the same patterns anyway. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I’m just worried about you.”

Lili closed her eyes with a grimace. “I know. I’m sorry, Uncle Bob.”

“Hey, kiddo, look at me.” He waited until she did so. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not disappointed, either. That’s your dad’s job. I get it, is what I’m saying. It gives you a buzz, and it’s fun and exciting, and you just wanted to have a good time with your, uh…”

Bob leaned in a bit, and dropped his voice to a stage whisper.

“Is Raz still your boyfriend?”

“Wha –” her cheeks went red. “Yes, he is!”

“Alright, sorry, I’m just always out of the loop. No one ever tells me when these things change or not. Anyway,” he continued before she could get brighter than the cherries in her ice cream. “I’m just saying that you gotta be more than careful with this kind of thing. Everyone should be, really, but especially people like us. Plants aren’t the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family, unfortunately, so we just have to be aware of it and act accordingly.”

The teen turned this over in her mind. He could practically see the gears moving. When she looked at him again, it was with a slow, contemplative nod.

“No more late-night bar-hopping?” Her great-uncle asked.

“No more late-night bar-hopping.” She answered, sincere.

“Good.” He looked outside. Helmut and Raz were both lying on the front of the car, pointing out stars to each other. The sight made him smile. “Come on, we’ll work on that whole thing about Adam and Lizzie giving you alcohol another time, when it’s not three in the morning. For now, let’s rejoin our boys again and go get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.” Lili slid out of the booth and tentatively took her family member’s hand. His fingers squeezed hers in reassurance. “And...thanks, Uncle Bob.”

“Well, what can I say. Us weird Zanotto plant people hafta look out for each other, right?”

“Right.”

They walked out together, hand-in-hand.

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A/N: I knew from promotional material that we'd be going into the mind of someone struggling with alcoholism, but Bob's Bottles punched me hard in the gut. It's probably my favorite mind in the game, both because it's visually gorgeous and because it hit a little close to home with some of the themes, like generational alcoholism and how the addiction can make someone a shell of themselves.

I wrote half of this three weeks ago and then found myself really struggling to finish it because it brought up a lot of old feelings I thought I'd sorted through a long time ago.

Psychonauts, man.

#psychonauts 2 #psychonauts 2 spoilers #Bob Zanottto #Helmut Fullbear #Lili Zanotto #Razputin Aquato #Bob Zanotto/Helmut Fullbear #psychonauts

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joyful-soul-collector · 4 years

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You want a hug?

Prompt: Touch Starved

@teammightypen requested Touch-Starved!

I accidentally deleted this ask a long time ago and only remembered what square was requested + who requested it, so sorry if you asked for any specific things and I didn’t put them in! I hope you like it though!

Irondad taglist: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach @stuck-in-a-fictional-universe @canonismybitch @freckledmountain @hold-our-destiny @not-your-housekeeper98 @misskirkstark @iron-loyalty @skeeter-110 @m3ga1nsp1r3d @nazezdha321 @peterparkerspidgeons + @badthingshappenbingo

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!

Read on Ao3

Sometimes, Peter gets this really tight ache in his chest. He has no idea why. It usually happens on bad days, days where Flash took things a little too far, days where he missed Uncle Ben just a little too much, days where he hadn’t slept a wink for fear of nightmares. Those were when it hurt the most.

But sometimes, he’ll be having a perfectly normal day and it would suddenly just… happen. His mood plummets, his limbs feel like lead, and the horrible ache in his chest starts again. Aunt May said it was mood swings, and that all teenagers get them, but that didn’t make them any easier to deal with.

This was, apparently, one of those days. And it was even worse because he was actually having a good day. Not an average day, an actually good one! History test--nailed it (despite history being his least favorite subject), found a mechanical pencil just lying there in the hallway (it was one of those fancy ones where you click the side instead of the top), AND Mr. Delmar had premade Peter’s favorite sandwich so he didn’t have to wait for it (apparently he’d caught on to the fact that Peter was always starving after school and didn’t want his favorite customer to be practically trembling with hunger as he waited for his food to be prepared).

But for some reason, as soon as Peter had finished his sandwich, his mood suddenly took an extreme downturn. That’s the opposite of what usually happens when he had his favorite afterschool meal.

Peter was sitting on his favorite rooftop when it happened, staring out over New York as he ate. Now he felt oddly sick of the sight. Just mustering up the energy to climb down the wall to the sidewalk made him feel drained. He decided to take the subway instead of webbing his way to the tower, even if it took twice as long. There was just no way he’d be able to swing himself there.

Not when he suddenly felt like he could burst into tears at any moment.

Peter did his best to keep his composure for the whole subway ride and subsequent walk to the tower. When he walked through the doors and was eventually greeted by Tony and the rest of the Avengers, he only mumbled a small “Hi.” He was terrified that if he spoke any louder he’d start crying, and honestly didn’t feel like having a meltdown in front of everyone. He pretended not to notice their concern as he quickly made his way to his room.

As soon as his door was shut behind him, the hole-like ache in his chest seemed to swell, pushing tears out of his eyes and making sobs bubble in his throat. Peter sat with a flump on his bed, gripping the blankets in his fists so hard it hurt, trying desperately to calm himself down.

But nothing worked.

Every time he tried his breathing exercises a bout of sobs interrupted him, he couldn’t seem to focus on anything in the room long enough to ground himself, he even just tried to tell himself “it’s okay” over and over again, but it felt like a lie every time.

So instead, he just squeezed his eyes shut, feeling helpless to stop the ache from spreading to his shoulders and arms.

It was only when his door creaked open that he looked up, sobs ceasing for a moment out of confusion. It was Tony.

“Pete?” he said, stepping into the room and shutting the door. Peter tried to wipe away the tears before Tony saw, but it was too late. “Oh no, Peter what happened? Are you okay?”

He quickly came over and sat next to Peter, eyes scanning him over, clearly looking for the injuries Peter always had a nasty habit of hiding.

“I don’t even know,” Peter said, barely summoning the energy to talk above a whisper. “I was just eating my sandwich on the rooftop and suddenly everything felt just bad and draining and miserable and--” He cut off with another sob.

“Aw kid, I’m so sorry, that really sucks,” Tony said. “I had bad mood swings like that when I was your age too. Doesn’t help with all the stuff you’ve been through either, I’m sure… You want a hug?”

As soon as he said that, Peter felt like a switch had flicked on in his head. He suddenly really, really wanted a hug. No, he needed a hug. The feeling was so strong that he didn’t even reply, he practically tackled Tony, who gave a small laugh of surprise.

“Jeez, you're really not feeling good, are you?”

“I… can’t remember the last time I got a hug,” Peter said. He hadn’t actually realized it until he said it out loud, but it was true. He truly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged. Hell, he could barely remember the last time he was touched in general. Maybe MJ had shoved him playfully last week? Maybe?

“What? Oh jeez, no wonder you feel like shit, you’re probably touch-starved out of your mind, kid,” Tony said, suddenly squeezing Peter a little tighter.

“I’m what?” Peter said, his voice still trembling a little.

“Touch-starved. Most of the time, people need touch to feel happy and safe, but if someone goes too long without a hug or even something as small as a handshake, it can make you feel depressed and sad. Most people need physical affection, and going too long without it means that you’re touch starved.”

“Oh… I didn’t even know that was a thing,” Peter said, suddenly feeling a little stupid. “So what, I’m just freaking out because I haven’t gotten a hug in a while? That sounds dramatic.”

“Heh, believe me, it’s not. It’s something a lot of teenagers go through, especially here in the US. Too many people here seem to think that physical affection is only for people in a romantic relationship. It’s especially hard for boys, since we’re taught that giving and receiving affection makes us less masculine. And of course, god forbid we be anything but the most manly man of all time. How often do you feel like this kid?”

Peter thought for a moment, head still pressed to Tony’s chest.

“Umm… a lot I think. Once or twice a week? Maybe more, but I dunno.”

Tony sighed, running his hands through Peter’s hair now. Peter relaxed even further, leaning into his hand.

“Sorry I didn’t realize kid. Probably should’ve noticed, I felt the same way when I was your age,” Tony said.

“It’s ok, even I didn’t know what was wrong,” Peter said into Tony’s shirt.

“What do you say to watching some movies and snuggling on the couch?” Tony said. Peter looked up, a shadow of nervousness entering his mind.

“Is… is that okay?”

Tony gave him a sympathetic smile and ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, kid. Fun fact, you’re allowed to like hugs and cuddles, no matter what anyone says. C’mon, let’s go watch some Star Wars or somethin’.”

Tony and Peter ended up watching movies late into the night, and Rhodey walked in the next day to find Peter asleep on Tony’s lap, Tony’s fingers in his hair as though he’d fallen asleep giving Peter a scalp massage. Rhodey laughed and set about making breakfast for them, deciding to let them sleep in just a little bit longer.

#irondad #irondad fanfiction #tony stark #peter parker #marvel #fanfiction #irondad fic #irondad fanfic #marvel fanfiction #spider-man fanfiction #fanfic #bad things happen bingo #bad things happen bingo: Touch-Starved #touch starved #spider-man #Iron Man #Marko's Fanfiction #my spidey boy

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somestansomewhere · 3 years

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Frank’s Dementia in 11a

Points to discuss:

Moments where Frank forgot.

Things he might be able to remember.

Other characters finding out.

Aftermath...

So to start of, I made a list of every instance in SEASON ELEVEN A, where Frank’s memory seemed a bit off, I’m not gonna analyze the whole series for this but I’m sure there’s more there. Now:

Moments Where Frank Forgot

11x01

1. Frank’s History of Chicago

While this does appear to imply just the opening monologue, there are actually several moments throughout the episode where Frank is talking about the Gallagher’s running Chicago to Alan. And while this seems like typical “Frank being drunk nonsense”, plus a spectacular opening to the season... I now see it in a different light especially after:

2. Frank’s Memory Elixir

Frank LITERALLY has a line asking for “memory elixir”, meaning booze, which Alan hands him. Ironic since he has ALCOHOLIC DEMENTIA. You can’t tell me that wasn’t intentional!

3. He Forgot Bars Were Closed

Now, I may be reaching here... BUT when Frank enters The Alibi for the first time this season (what a grand enterence btw) he says “I heard somewhere all bars were open again”. V responds by saying something along the lines of “three weeks ago maybe” and that the mayor shut them down again. Frank says “Well who the hell can keep track”. And okay, yeah maybe Frank genuinely didn’t know... but this is the bar he goes to EVERYDAY. Not to mention if they shut down less than THREE WEEKS AGO, Frank should know... idk this one might not count but I added it anyway. Kermit is unaware of bars being open/shut down in 11x03 so moving on:

11x02

4. The Alibi’s Secret Enterence

Okay, again REACHING! However, when Frank entered The Alibi through the Keg Zone door he forgot to use the “secret knock” and Kev had to remind him about it. Now in 11x01 he used the front door (and I’m not sure he knew to use the other door in that ep) but still at least he remembered to use the correct door in 11x02.

11x03

This is where it got noticeable.. strap in, here we go:

5. Taking Franny to School

He took her to the wrong school. This is the same person that knows the Southside perhaps better than his kids (lol), like the back of his hand! He not only took her to the wrong school but a middle/grade school. Franny is in elementary/preschool school. You can see in WHM’s face here that Frank was confused...

6. Uncle V and Aunt Kev

Maybe just a comedic slip up, but Frank calls Kev and V “Uncle V and Aunt Kev” as opposed to what they really are. Maybe he forgot? I’m reaching LOL.

7. Debbie Is Not Fiona

Frank talks about one of his favorite MEMORIES with Franny’s mom: Debbie, but “oh no, maybe that was Fiona”. Small moment, typical Frank but... nonetheless, poor memory. The writers are smart by mentioning Fiona in this scene... it’s “a Fiona mention”, we’re going to remember this, and that’s probably why they did it.

8. The Paper Store

Yeah, this was the first red flag for me and if I can recall, the moment EVERYONE knew something seemed off. Frank, walks out of the paper store with Franny and cannot remember where he is, or where they are headed. Once he is reminded of their “goals” for the day (by Franny, a five year old) he proceeds to head to the paper store... Franny once again let’s him know that they already went there and Frank notices the paper already in his (Franny’s) backpack. Ouch.

11x04

9. The Nation of Islam

Ooo this one hurt! After Frank suggests to visit The Nation of Islam in an attempt to get their help to get rid of the Milkoviches, him, Kev, and Liam do. We SEE them go there. It’s a whole scene, so later in the episode when Frank suggests to go ask them for help AGAIN as if it were a completely new idea, we as an audience know they already did that. As Kevin says they “JUST did that”. Frank forgot. Shit.

11x05

10. Mrs.McCurdy

Frank discusses with Kev about murdering Mrs.McCurdy, later he tries to murder her. We see it, we remember it becaue she grabbed Frank’s dick. It was funny, the scene evoked laughter, it forces the audience to remember it. Frank mindlessly walks into The Alibi and Kev asks Frank if he “did the thing”. Now at first Frank is confused. They were using “quotation talk” earlier so yeah I get it, but then when Kevin is more direct with Frank, Frank thinks Kev is implying that he had sex with Mrs.McCurdy... Frank is clearly confused. Only then does Kev point out that he meant MURDER. Frank takes a second, again if you watch he does not know what Kev is talking about, but then it hits him, and he remembers. Thus continuing the convo like nothing.

11x06

11. Monica

Now this one REALLY hurt. Frank’s first scene of the episode is a sex scene between him and Letty. She’s blonde, and Frank calls her Monica. He truly believes he is sleeping with Monica, only Monica is dead, she been since season seven. When Letty mentions that she isn’t Monica (thinking Frank calling her that was only a sex thing), we see WHM’s brilliant preformence once again. Frank doesn’t know what Letty means, he thinks she’s Monica. Then when he realizes she isn’t, he gets this lost dejected look on his face. He’s confused and knows that he keeps getting confused.

Frank says “I gotta get to work”. Letty asks him where he works and Frank is left bewildered.

12. Seven

Okay so remember Frank and Franny’s adventure in 11x03? Frank visits a dry cleaners to get some weed. They make a point of Franny saying that Frank will pay SEVEN for the weed. No offer is made and Frank must get it somewhere else. Throughout the episode Frank refterences SEVEN to Kev & V as the asking price to sell. We as an audience are forced to remember SEVEN. Also in 11x03, as Debbie frantically looks for Frank/Franny, she visits the dry cleaners where they were (retracing their steps). We as an audience have been there twice.

Now, in 11x06 Frank goes to pick up an order but like, we already saw him go there episodes ago. When the woman behind the counter literally tells him she has nothing for him and he argues with her, WE KNOW she is right. Once again, Frank forgot. I’m so sad. Not only that but Kev and V don’t have Frank going on runs anymore. Ian & Mickey are doing it... Frank is legit lost and forgot that he’s not doing that anymore, Kev tells him he’s not in 11x04.

Ms.G even says to Frank that she doesn’t need to write anything down to remember it because the “Mind’s a steel trap”. She doesn’t owe him... she can use her mind to remember where Frank cannot. The irony.

13. Pedestrian, Blue, Handlebar (abc)

a) Frank getting hit in the head results in him having a visit to the hospital where a nurse discovers that Frank has no clue how he got there and more specifically, how he got hit in the first place.

b) The saddest part, when asked his name he remembers FRANK. But has to look down at her sheet to know his last name is GALLAGHER. This is the man who walks around saying “It’s up to Frank Gallagher to save the neighborhood”. He forgot his last name.

c) The scene goes on, the nurse asks him to remember three words: pedestrian, blue, and handlebar. They discuss other things, then she asks him to tell her those words. It’s so abundantly clear that Frank just cannot. He doesn’t remember. He was told like 30sec ago and gets, for the first time ASHAMED. He’s the most shameless person ever (hence the title of the show) but now the tides have turned. He “doesn’t wanna play this game anymore”. Frank can recognize AGAIN that he is confused, only now he is forced to face it. The nurse noticed, she runs some tests and Frank learns that he has early stages of alcoholic dementia. This isn’t his liver, he can’t get a new one, this is his brain.

14. + 15. Letty & Terry

Just two bonuses, Frank wanders aimlessly into the Alibi again (like in 11x05) because it’s routine for him. Letty calls him over. Frank forgot they were supposed to meet there. :(

Frank and Terry on the porch: Maybe it’s just bad writing or they were trying to make a point but like a “Gallagher-Milkovich War” never happened??? We watched the show for 11 seasons... Also are the Milkoviches actually from Poland Frank? I’ll excuse that one cuz Ian mentioned it too, but I thought they wer Ukrainian. These seem like writing mistakes tho so oops.

Things He Might Be Able To Remember

Frank has his and Franny’s name tattooed on his body... he literally forgot his last name at the hospital. And if he forgets a bunch in 11b then that’ll be the payoff for the tattoo... he might not know why the tattoo is there or who the people are listed on his arm, or even what it means exactly, but he will know that Frank loves Franny.

Where he lives. Frank never threw out the paper with his diagnosis. He might remember his home, however the conflict comes in the fact that the Gallaghers might be selling it. He needs to be around people/places that are familiar to him. This could jeopardize his memory.

The Alibi is where Frank seems to just walk to or go to whenever he has no clue where he is or going but it’s subtle. I could see him getting lost and no one knowing where he is and Frank just being at the Alibi beacuse idk muscle memory? He’s on autopilot.

Early stages of ALCOHOLIC Dementia can improve. Like if maybe Frank were to tell someone and if he wasn’t removed from the Gallagher house, and oh I don’t know if Frank STOPPED DRINKING, he could remember. But I don’t think we’re heading in that direction, especially if the house is sold, and let’s face it... it looks that way.

Fiona? Will he forget her... this all feels reminiscent of 4x11.

Other Characters Finding Out

Franny, Kevin, and Liam, are the only people who have REALLY been subject to the possibility of noticing... but think about it. Franny is too young to notice anything, Kevin is not the brightest bulb, he doesn’t seem to realize it either, and Liam was exposed to it once, but at that time he was so scared about the Milkoviches that he didn’t notice it. Maybe if he saw it again, he would. Liam is smart enough.

I wonder if the Gallaghers will just find out the hard way (,like those stills from 11x08 are making me think,) or if anyone will begin to seriously pick up on it. I intially thought they would show Frank forgetting in front of each character until someone was able to notice but scratch that. They seem to be setting Lip up on the “alcoholic path” this season, (and I may go more into depth about that one another time, it’s another big post if I do get into it). But what will the Gallagher’s reactions/feelings be towards Frank’s diagnosis? Mickey and Ian had many Terry/Frank discussions in 11x06 literally setting up for it. It hurt when they all kept dismissing Frank because yup, they don’t know yet. They would have to help him in order to keep his memory maintained, but that’s the thing... Frank’s pride. He might deny their help even if they actually were to give it to him... Either way, I’m “looking forward” to see how this all unravels and how everyone finds out and what their reactions will be, which brings me to my final topic:

Aftermath...

So what happens? Will they sell the house, potentially causing Frank to forget? Will he not know his kids, his history? Will he die? Will Frank finally stop drinking... yeah I doubt that... So what WILL happen? Will the Gallaghers be left to take care of Frank? Will they even do that? Will he remember them?

What if in 1x01 Frank’s narration IS his memory? We see him talking about his kids to someone? It circles back? I don’t know, but either way I expect this whole thing to pull on our heartstrings. When the rest of the regulars find out... it’s gonna get real, and rough.

Interesting stuff coming up in 11b I’m sure. Let’s see how this plays out for our Protagonist and Patriarch: Frank Gallagher.

Omg, if you read through this, you are so cool and I really really appreciate you! Please send me an ask or write a note, I would love to get your take on the matter. 💙

Hope you enjoyed this analysis and I hope it didn’t go on too long.

#frank gallagher #season 11 #shameless season 11 #shameless #gallavich #dementia #my lists

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imagineabrighterworld · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet Tragedies

Pt. 1 // Dead to Me

A/N: The first part of a series of writings based on Melanie Martinez songs, and my own want for Dabi interacting with a child ^^; The reader will have many more interactions with him as time goes on (and maybe even some interactions with heroes)

The vigilante Phantasma was no more. Leaving you and your little sister motherless.

You always felt cold, something you got from your father, but this cold was penetrating in a way you could only describe as being stabbed.

Over and over.

Phantasma was an outlaw, and no one missed those. They were the villains of the hero world. Someone people didn’t tend to miss, someone you werent supposed to root for. So when you returned home to your sister with the news, you knew she would only find comfort in you. No one else would mourn your mother.

For a whole night, you both lay in her bed, curled up and clinging to each other, craving a warmth you knew would never return. But after that, you knew you had to be the one to step up to the plate.

You were 23 and your sister the fragile age of six. Without you, what would she have?

"Kiko."

She lifts her head, eyes still red from hours of crying. Yukiko wipes her eyes.

"Y-Yea?"

"We're going to be okay." You assure her, placing a hand on her back. "I'm gonna call one of mommy's friends so we can get some help. Do you want to go with me?"

"But.." She sniffles. "I have school."

"Ah. Alright. Come, let's get ready for school, I'll take you." You wait for her to sit up before helping her get dressed, using a damp napkin to wipe away the trails of tears on her cheeks. Fifteen minutes later you stand outside of her school, the bell already ringing for her to get to class, your hand cold without hers to warm it.

With nothing left to do you take your mother's phone out and click on a familiar icon. A weasel.

Holding the phone to your ear, your chest lightens as the line is picked up.

"Hey Uncle Kagero, I.. I need some help."

---

Walking beside Kagero Okuta, or Giran as he prefered to be called for business purposes, made you uneasy. It wasn't him personally, in fact, he was one of your favorite people that came into your life because of your vigilante mother. No, this unease was due to the man following the two of you.

Twice was his name. He argued with himself, which unnerved you. Men in general made you nervous, especially the ones that yelled.

"Sorry about my friend here, he's going through a rough patch." Giran removes the cigar from his mouth, waving it around as he guides you through tight alleyways. "It's not his fault, he's just-"

"AN ANIMAL! Heroic! Suave! STOP THAT EH?! Amazing."

"Like that." He snorts.

You shake your head. "It's fine." In any case, you move just an inch closer to the older man.

Giran was an old friend of your mothers, someone she went to for information or for new tech. Often times she took you with her to see him, and often times he would give you whatever he had on him at the time. Ranging from lollipops to broken parts of machinery. It fascinated you as a child, seeing him pull out all sorts of items from his pockets.

Now you saw him in less of an innocent light, but you didnt hate him either. Work was work.

Speaking of.

"What kind of work were you thinking when you said you could find me a job?"

"Nothing terrible." He inhales deeply, exhaling a mouthful of smoke. "You like to dance, right?"

"More or less."

"Something like that. I know a guy who pays good money for people with quirks like yours. It'll keep you and Kiko fed."

A job that relied on your quirk.. Well, it wasn't the worst news you could have heard. And if it would keep your sister comfortable, you would do it.

The three of you stop in front of a rundown bar, the windows boarded up and it's sign hanging haphazardly to the left.

"So, why are we here?"

"To meet the gang! TO DIE! Shigaraki wants to meet you! SHUT UP!"

You turn around to look at Twice. "Shigaraki? The League of Villains guy?" You'd heard of him through the news. The attack on the USJ was still spoken of despite it being weeks ago. "I didnt realize his base would look like.. This."

The man narrows his eyes, looking ready to tear you in half before he stops and taps his foot on the floor. "It's fucked up- but give it a shot! It's cool inside! UGLY AS fuck." He ends in a small voice, hugging himself as he rushes in through the doors. You could hear him say something, presumably to the rest of the people inside.

A hand is placed against your back. You look to your right, seeing Giran look down at you before nodding towards the door.

"In you go kid."

Nodding, you step up to the now open doors and find yourself in a rather well taken care of room. It was a bar with crystal scones and furniture you werent expecting to see in a place that looked like it's outside survived a nuke.

Several people waited inside, either standing or sitting. With one look, you instantly knew who the leader was. But with another look, you couldn't help your eyes being glued to another man.

He had his head resting on crossed arms, his skin held together by staples. He was asleep, but it didnt stop you from looking at him a second more before turning to the leader.

Shigaraki.

Standing in the center of them all was a person who could turn you to ash without breaking a sweat. You would be nervous were it not for Giran's presence. You trusted him enough to know he wouldn't let you die tonight.

"So, you're the one Giran has been talking about." His voice grates against your ears. "The amplifier."

Amplification. Emotional or physical. Your quirk was.. Useful. Amplifying calm, strength, passion, happiness, nearly anything. It had its uses.

"We've already worked out the details. Should you come through on your end." He saunters forward, stopping just short of you.

From where you stood, staring up at him, trying to look past the hand covering his face, you had the from feeling that this bargain would force you to toe the line your mother had danced on for decades.

Vigilante? Or villain.

"Amplify his healing."

Shigaraki points to the now awake man covered in deep purple scars. The man's eyes burned into yours, a bright, blazing blue.

He flashes you a smirk as he moves off of the seat. Unlike Shigaraki, he stays where he is by the bar, but not too close to the alcohol lining the shelves.

You fidget nervously. "Just his healing?"

Shigaraki narrows his eyes, his fingers curling into a slow fist. "Just. Healing."

"Will it be a problem babe?" The man chuckles. "I thought we were getting someone impressive."

While his voice was pleasing to the ears, it wasn't enough to discourage your annoyance.

"It's just fine, pretty boy."

He lifts a brow, the smirk on his face widening, pulling at the staples on his face.

He opens his arms as blue flames engulf him head to toe, skin taking on a deeper hue as it begins to burn. "Give it your best shot babe."

Oh how you wanted to amplify his pain receptors. Oh how you wanted to wipe the smug expression off of his face.

But Yukiko needed you to get this job.

Your pupils dilate as you focus solely on the flaming man before you. Your body takes over as you feel the barest trace of energy radiating from him, tugging on it as you allow your quirk to latch onto him and do its work.

His expression changes ever so slightly as his skin stops it's burning and reverts back to its previous appearance. It wasn't healed fully, but it most definitely was not getting any worse.

"Interesting." Shigaraki speaks from beside you. A little too close for your liking.

You step closer to Giran who puts a hand on your shoulder. "I told you they could do it." He ducks his head slightly. "Good job kid."

Shigaraki nods absentmindedly, already mumbling plans that you already knew you wanted no part of. But you already signed away that piece of you.

Whatever he wanted you to do, you would do. For Kiko.

"Consider yourself hired." He acknowledges you after his compatriot puts out his flames, said companion now making his way to you. "Dabi will be your guard. Treat them well." Shigaraki adds, tapping Dabi on the arm with two fingers.

"Of course." Dabi stands in front of you, looking down at you with that same smug smirk. "Looks like you’re stuck with me babe."

No.

You step forward, ignoring the smell of ash wafting from him. "You've got it all wrong."

He cocks a brow.

"You are stuck with me."

His grin only widens.

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #bnha dabi #mha dabi #bnha dabi x reader #mha dabi x reader #bittersweet tragedies #bittersweet tragedies pt 1

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valkyrieofsmut · 3 years

Note

How would the boys of reacted if mc had a kid already but the dad skipped out so she’s now trying to take care of them with their current situation?

It took a while to think about this and come up with an answer for everyone, but I think I’ve got it. Current, I’m taking as RIGHT NOW in the story. But there’s also a future (more relationship-y) answer I’ll try to give.

Classic- Oh, hey, a kid. He’s just accepted the kid into the plans with everything else. Give head ruffles and jokes, is the basic hilarious prankster uncle that is always the favorite of the kids. MC’s kid gravitates to him, and after getting to know him and checking him out, MC is fine with this, as long as he’s not doing crazy, dangerous stuff, or things that could hurt her kid.

When things start to get Serious™, Classic starts to think of the kid as his own, probably without even realizing it at first. He’ll just wake up one day and stretch, getting ready for work, wondering why it feels weird that the kid isn’t running around like he’s trying to break the sound barrier, like his brother used to when he was getting his coffee in the morning… When he realizes that he’s totally fallen for MC, it makes so much sense! Of course he’d think of the kid as his; that’s what happens when you have a mate; you have kids with them! And, additionally, if that worthless deadbeat ever tries to come around looking for his kid, claiming some sort of “parental rights” that ass is going to get a lesson in family. Because it doesn’t matter where the sperm for the kid came from, which he’ll gladly remove the source of, if he ever comes back, but who loves and cares for them, nurturing them as they grow.

Creampuff- A child, oh, yes, those happen! Wait… where is the other parent? He what?! Well… excuse him for a moment… there are some shrubbery that need… yelling at- yes, it helps them grow! And when he gets back, you have now unlocked mother hen Creampuff, and if she didn’t get constant pictures and updates of what they were up to, MC might worry that her kid had been kidnapped…

Creampuff may not be interested in the making of kids, the physical way, anyway, but this kid is his, now, and he’s ready to be a parent! He’s not sure how he feels about a romantic relationship, though… maybe he and MC can just work it out like a split custody situation, like he’s seen at work! Except they won’t have to go to the police station to exchange the kid. What wonderful parents the two of them are, already!

Red- heh… a kid… Wow… Red knows how to be a dad, and even has some confidence at what to do, but… the other stuff… makes him kinda nervous. What do you say to a kid whose mom you want to bang until the sun explodes? Ha- definitely not that. It takes some time, but after he gets used to the kid and relaxes a little, he’s already acting like a parent, like he did for Edge. He’s used to it being dangerous, so he’s going to make sure the kid is ok. And teach them all sorts of cool stuff. If you start them young enough, they’ll have insanely high levels of comprehension as they get older! MC better be ready for her kid to be learning advanced mechanics- as in, you know those hoverboards? Not the stupid ones that have wheels and catch fire- the ones that actually hover, like that one movie! Yep… that’s going to probably be the goal for her kid’s senior year science fair project… better get started on it now...

When stuff gets serious, Red isn’t going to be able to keep his hands to himself- honestly, sweetheart, we gotta get on makin’ that kid a sibling. been too long wit’out one a’ready… though i know ya were jus’ waitin’ on me ta cum along- heh heh! Red’s “dad mode” is activated, and well… if anything, that… actually might just make MC see things Red’s way about needing a sibling for her kid… He’s just so… parental… it stirs something primal that looks for the ideal mate… Yeah… she’s not going to stand a chance.

Edge- Ugh- another one?! A small one?! SIGH! Well, he may act like a hardass, but, he values childhood, and remembers how rough his was, despite Red trying to make sure he got the best of one he could afford without letting him be in danger. So he may act like he’s irritated and annoyed with MC’s kid, but he’s actually very flattered if they follow him around, and he may do things particularly slowly and demonstratively so they can learn by watching. He may also leave candies or treats for them… And, when the kid shows to have learned something from him- of course he’s going to act offended at the thought that he actually meant to help them! But the pride and affection he’s radiating is poorly hidden. He also won’t let anyone touch them, though it’ll be “JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO WEAK TO ATTACK ME DOES NOT MEAN YOU CAN ATTACK A CHILD!”

When things get serious, he will finally officially take the kid under his wing and- holy shit, had she thought that he was secretly training her kid before?! Now Edge is always talking, teaching how to do something, showing new things, and standing at her side as he urges their kid to show off what he taught them. He is full of pride, chest puffed out to the max. If anyone implies that his child doesn’t meet any standards- he’s going to have to “have a talk” with them- a terrifying talk, where that person might just have to change their clothes after, because- how does someone get so scared that they get waste matter on their shirt? Who knows, Edge certainly doesn’t. He’s never seen that happen before… twice, from the same person, anyhow.

Blue- He’s not phased by the fact that she has a kid. She’s amazing, who wouldn’t want to mate her?! Wait… her kid’s other parent did what?! It’s alright- neither of them has to worry about anything, now, not while he’s there! He’s already taken to playing with the kid, loving that they’re as energetic as he is, loves driving with them on his bike- yes, he’ll make them wear a helmet, and sit in front of him if they can’t hold on tight enough, but they still get to feel the amazing freedom.

When things finally get serious, he really doesn’t change, except that he says “GO ASK YOUR MOM” less and takes on more parental responsibilities. He is their parent now- oh stars, he’s their parent, now! He talks to Stretch a lot; he knows how to be an amazing datemate, and mate, but a parent?! Stretch assures him that he hasn’t messed up the kid enough for it to be noticeable yet, so that’s a good sign. Blue gets irritated and spends a lot of time asking MC if she thinks he’s doing the right things, but when she tells him that he’s been acting like a great dad the whole time already, and that he hasn’t messed up anything majorly, yet, he realizes that being a parent is more about doing what’s best for the kid, and less about doing everything “right”. He then begins the campaign for another kid. “DON’T GET ME WRONG! I LOVE OUR CHILD DEARLY, BUT… I WANT MORE KIDS… THEY NEED SIBLINGS TO RUN AND PLAY WITH! … Don’t Worry, Dove, I’d Never Leave You And Our Children Like That Unlucky Moron Did. He Just Couldn’t See How Lucky He Was To Have Two People As Amazing As You In His Life… But I’ll Never Forget. I Think About It Every Day, Already, Actually.”

Stretch- He has a very serious and very strict “eh” policy about kids. Cool, a kid. Nothing about this situation changes how he acts in the least. Just another person around, though he’s maybe not the person the kid should hang around with, at his own admission. “don’t want ‘em growin’ up to be lazy like me, do ya?” But he won’t turn them away if they want to play games or hang out and take a nap for a bit.

If Stretch has already gotten to the point where he’s thinking about being serious with MC, he’s going to take her kid into consideration, too. It wasn’t awful being a stand in parent for Blue, and he’d probably make a pretty good uncle, but… he’s not sure he’s got it in him to do it again… but for MC- what the hell, he’ll give it a shot. He’s not going to mess them up too badly, after all; he’s not doing it alone this time! And now he has someone to teach the inner workings of what he does at work- no, it’s not because he’s lazy and wants someone to do his job for him! … ok, that thought may have come up when he decided to teach ‘em- but only for a second! His job skills are important, and will give the kid lots of opportunities when they get older- even if it’s just to start working as his assistant and make things easier on himself, he’ll be up to date and able to take over one day. Stretch will be a proud papa that day, just the same as he was when they graduated top of their class at MIT. Can you- can you believe he actually had a hand in- in building that person…? It’s so surreal… and beautiful…

Black- Hmm… his pet has a young one already… but he doesn’t scent any other humans on her… Ah, that’s why- Wait- what?! NO, NO, NO, LOVE, YOU MUST BE MISTAKEN, YOU SEE, YOU TOLD ME THAT THIS MORONIC, INSIGNIFICANT WORM IS STILL ALIVE SOMEWHERE! HE IS… YOU DIDN’T KILL HIM FOR BETRAYING YOU?! WHY, LOVE- YOU’RE TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD… WOULD YOU LIKE HIS HEAD ON A PIKE FOR A WOOING GIFT? NO? ALRIGHT, SUIT YOURSELF, PET. He just is absolutely stunned that someone so stupid could exist. But, there is no accounting for taste, he supposes. MC and her child are in his care, now, and that means they receive all of the benefits that entitles them to. If the worm comes back- he’s not going to play nice- he’ll show them exactly what they missed out on when they left his family behind to pursue whatever had caught his fancy.

He’s already acting like a mate and father by the time things get serious, and he is very proud of how smart his child is, but not surprised- after all, they did come from MC’s loins, and were tutored by him. This just shows how great any children they have together will be, and… maybe they should have them now? He’s always heard that you shouldn’t have a large gap between kids, as it can lead to discord in the ranks. Yes, now would be a fine time to start… NOW TELL ME, LOVE, HOW MANY WERE YOU THINKING? WE SHOULD PLAN THIS OUT SO THEY ARE SPACED PERFECTLY AND WE CAN GIVE THEM ALL THE UTMOST TRAINING AND AFFECTION.

Mutt- Oh, a kid? Hm… Interesting… he guesses. He really skulks around a bit more before he comes over to hang around MC. It’s not that he’s afraid of the kid or doesn’t like them, he just really doesn’t want to be interrupted while he’s trying to get some time with MC. He also doesn’t want to scar them for life by them walking in on him with their mom in all sorts of compromising positions! All sorts of them. Wherever they happen to be… Really, he’s being considerate.

Mutt, in the future, when things are serious, and MC already has a kid? Cool. Pretty much nothing changes. Everything is the same, except that now that MC is his, so is the kid. So he’s going to keep a socket on them like he did his bro. And he’s going to make sure that no one messes with them. They’re going to turn out very loved and very confident, and very, very safe. Mutt may disappear sometimes, but he always comes back, and when he does he usually seems pleased; kid’s doin’ great. made some new friends. And let me tell you something… If this boy ever meets the douchebag that donated sperm for his kid- he’ll say thanks. And explain all of the accomplishments the two have made without him, bragging how amazing the kid turned out without him. Right before he beats the shit out of him.

(as a side note, I was inspired by Mutt’s little section in this post by @tyranttortoise, and have something planned much like this… yay!)

Axe- When he first saw her, his plan was solid; food for his brother. When she used her cleverness and wits and fought to stay alive, he had a bit of respect for her, though he didn’t think it would help her. When she managed to get him and his brother to go back to the camper and he could smell the other scent, knew there was a small human hiding and locked away in the cab of the truck, even though he couldn’t find them, and she was giving them her food to go away- giving up their food to throw off attention and protect her young… it struck a chord with him about how he was protecting his brother, and- well damn… he just couldn’t eat her now!

After that, when they went around with the bros, she always had that protective front up, never going to let her child be hurt, and… damn it… it just made him like her more. When the boys were reminded that humans can’t survive in the cold, Axe went to collect them, and found that she was even sharing the blanket nest- giving her own heat to keep her child safe and… fuck… he’s pretty sure he’s fallen, but he’s going to resist this weird feeling as hard as he can! Then, when she’s helped and provided for them, his brother, and him, in addition to her child, even though they did what they could to pool resources… He’s a lot more apt to be violent if the others come by and try to take her. She is their human, her child is their child now, and he will kill anyone who tries to mess with them. When the humans move to the lodge, he’s up there, every day, takes the kid out, shows them around, is very sure to have them back for lunch and dinner, teaches them everything he can so they can be strong and take care of and defend themself. Her kid is offended that Axe makes them wear one of those leash backpack type things tied to him, until Axe explains that it’s for him, so he doesn’t get lost from them, then, being MC’s kid, and seeing the example of how to take care of others their whole life, they understand, and Axe is greatly amused at the tiny version of her he now has running around with him. MC is very surprised at all of the hunting, trapping, and survival stuff her kid has learned with Axe, and is super proud of that smart little squirt! And so is Axe. Proud as a dad. Which is what he is when things are serious. He is a proud dad.

Crooks/Bun- Oh, poor Bun is distraught when he finds out. You Mean That FIrst Night When You Gave Us Your Food, You Were Doing It To Protect Your Baby?! SANS! YOU ABSOLUTE CAD! HOW COULD YOU?! He takes the little human under his metaphorical wing and tries to teach them all the fun stuff he knows, like puzzles! And how to tie all sorts of pretty knots! And useful ones as well. He remembers what it was like when he was a baby bones and Sans did his best to keep his life fun, innocent, and worry free, let him have a childhood instead of having to grow too early, or, really at all, until everything hit the metaphorical fan… He will reenforce your claim to be camping, inviting you to stay with them and claim that you just chose a bad year to camp here, trying to do the same for your kid not to disillusion them. It’s No Trouble, Really! Your Mom Is A Great Mother, And You Are Both Such Wonderful Friends Of Ours, We Want You To Have Fun On With Us On Your Vacation, Too!

When the others come, he will keep them away, far away from the cabin. He didn’t want her to know, but he would be heartbroken if he let her kid’s image of her fall one tiny bit. Yes, talk all you need to, but let’s do it far, far out here- how about in the road?! How about at the lodge?! Not Here, Where The Baby Might Hear! He feels like his nest is empty when they move to the lodge, and is up there every day, helping to cook and clean, being the mother hen he used to be, and feeling absolutely overjoyed to have a little one to tend to! And the fact that she asks him to take care of the baby when she has to go do something, or needs a moment to herself makes his magic sing! Life is so wonderful right now! And no, he doesn’t care how old the kid is, or how many times anyone says anything- they can almost fit in only his two hands! (you know, depending on how far apart he holds them.) And any young that small must be a baby! Luckily he doesn’t try to spoon feed them. That could be a fight, depending on the kid’s personality. When things move to the point where it would be considered “dating” or “Seriously Dating” he’s glad to have this child with her. He loves them both very much.

Dusty- The first time he met her, he didn’t know, so he had no opinion, though he’ probably be thinking about some exp, and thinking about pseudo revenge. But, after he’s gone off, found out what he needs to know and come back-

A kid- oh fuck, a kid! No- no, that can’t be the same kid! They look different- he knows they do- shut up, Paps, he’s trying to think because he doesn’t want to do something wrong! That’s the human’s kid! Yes! That’s right! Ok! Ok. Ok… ok, he’s ok now. He’s very anxious around MC’s kid because he’s afraid that he’s going to freak out, flashback, and attack. He is very careful to always have someone else around when he’s with the kid. Someone that can either get the kid out of there, or kick his ass to stop him. He’s very nervous about if things get serious, and fights it, actually, not wanting anyone to count on him being around, because… he’s afraid that things will fall apart in the worst way possible.

Ask Masterlist?

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linkspooky · 4 years

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Ten Favorite Female Characters

I was tagged by @midnight-in-town, so now I have to show them how much I love my favorite women.

Name your favorite female characters from 10 different Fandoms and tag 10/or the amount you wish people

Tagging: @hamliet @amonmahboi @inumaqi @thyandrawrites @kaibutsushidousha @harostar.. yeah, I don’t know ten people.

Enoshima Junko

“Hope is harmony. A just heart, moving toward the light. That is all. Despair is hope's polar opposite. It is messy and confusing. It swallows up love, hatred, and everything else.”

Junko wishes she was a psychopath. She’s spent her entire life pretending to be a crazy psychopath, because living that life is just so much more interesting than the one she’s stuck in. Enoshima Junko is just too smart for the world, and everything is too easy for her, and rather than try to dumb herself down a little bit she’s decided to knock everything else down. She’s a girl kicking down sandcastles because building them out of sand all alone is no longer doing it for her.

Junko’s interesting because of the weird logic and loops she runs her brain into. There’s a complex character behind the whole “I exist only to spread despair” thing. She’s perfectly capable of forming emotional attachments to people, and genuinely caring. But the people she likes are generally far worse off than the ones she doesn’t care about.

Junko wants so badly to, just not be human. She does the most inhuman things possible to prove that she’s not human. What really made me love her is the lengths she’s willing to go, to the point in Dangan Ronpa Zero where she basically took a screw to her own brain and started acting like a normal girl only when all of her memories were removed.

Junkos relationship with Matsuda shows two conflicting sides of her character. How much she's humanized by her love of him, and also how much she wants to completely destroy that part of herself. It's like she physically can't be a normal girl. Or rather she doesn’t want to be to such extremes she’ll break everything and then herself.

And if she can’t be normal than Junko decided that self destruction is her next best bet. There’s just nothing that will satisfy Junko, and it’s interesting to watch someone that empty decide the world is going to end, or she’s going to end herself and she doesn’t really care which.

Ajimu Najimi

“Call to me with affection, Anshin’in-san. Well, I don’t really care what manga characters call me.”

Hey, I put Junko on this list twice. Both Ajimu and Junko live in a world that is too easy for them, and therefore they have no reason to get emotionally invested in others or try to attach themselves to anything. Which is why it’s fun to see Ajimu attempt the same thing as Junko to kill herself in style and eventually get saved from herself.

Medaka Box is such a meaningful manga to me because they take the weirdest characters and no matter how deranged they are they find the parts of them that are relatable and go, well guess what you’re human too. Ajimu literally calls herself a non-human and she’s just as human as all the rest in the end.

The best part is it’s not her good points that make her human, it’s all her flaws. It’s easy to feel like the world isn’t real, that nothing in the world is worth living for, to feel no emotional attachment. Those are all human emotions. Not because they’re good and shining, but because they’re petty and terrible. Ajimu is this brilliant character, but she’s also kind of just a petty little girl using a ‘fiction is reality’ lens to cope. She’s not that special actually, she’s just suicidal, and kind of awful in general. It’s nice to see that human side behind the mastermind character.

Azula

“My own mother thought I was a monster. She was right of course but it still hurts.”

Azula is someone thoroughly dehumanized by everyone even the “good” members of her family (Uncle Iroh, Zuko, her Mother). I like how Azula in some part seems to be aware that both her brother, and mother seem to kind of consider her the “bad sibling” and she just decides to embrace it. Like it’s... not emotionally healthy in any way and it’s terribly tragic but there’s something about characters who actively make the decision to be a monster that gets me.

There’s something about Azula’s writing that makes me uncomfortable, and it makes me sad that Zuko like... continually associates her with his father’s abuse, and demonizes her like she wasn’t also a kid going through the exact same situation, but Azula getting increasingly unstable is at least an appropriate response to that.

Even if her brother, her mother, or her father won’t see her as her own person and they all see her as an extension of her father’s abuse on her, Azula is just so determined to be her own person even if it means burning the world, or herself A common theme I guess, but a lot of these characters have narratives about not being allowed to be their own person or shown any kind of humanity or normalcy.

Morrigan

“Well, well, well what do we have here?”

Morrigan is mean, and nasty, and grumpy and bitchy and witchy. She’s allowed to be unlikable, because Morrigan never bends to anyone. Her survival, and freedom will become first before anything else.

It feels like Morrigan is the main character in her own story, and you just happen to be a part of it for a short while. You may even be an important character to her, she may be attached, but ultimately you’ll never be more than support to her.

Morrigan is such an ambitious an singular entity that her character development is letting you be a part of her life and not the other way around. She'll always survive on her own. Morrigan is irrevocably shaped by her environemnt, and yet she craves freedom in that too because she doesn’t want to be bound by her past or shaped by her mother. So much of herself is dedicated to being better than the environment that she was raised in that she defeats her mother not by killing her, or freeing herself, but rather by being a better mother than her.

Raven / Rachel Roth

“Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos...”

Raven is fun, because a bunch of monks thought the best way to teach her to handle her emotions was to never allow her to feel any emotion ever. So, Raven is eternally running on a zero. She’s terrified even a small amount of happiness will end the world. She’s not allowed to be her own person, neither her bastard father, nor the monks treat her like one.

Raven is so gentle, and selfless, and emotionally perceptive and sensitive to others needs but she can’t ever display almost any of these good traits because she’s internalized the idea that she’s such a bad person. She always believes all the time that she exists to hurt others and that makes it so difficult for her to connect to others.

Which is why her true friends bond with the Teen Titans is so meaningful, because Rachel found a family in spite of all of that. She has friends who think she’s a good person unconditionally despite the fact that Raven continually tells herself she isn’t. There are people in the world willing to navigate the maze of walls that Raven has built around herself, and that her environment forced her to build and closed up, and she’s so happy to have them.

Midna

“Some call our realm a world of shadows, but that makes it sound so unpleasant... The twilight there holds a serene beauty... You have seen it yourself as the sun sets on this world. Bathed in that light, all the people were pure and gentle...”

Midna just steals the show. Her story now. The game’s not called Legend of Zelda anymore now it’s Legend of Midna. Not only is she the most important character in the game she appears in, but she’s also in character someone so selfish she’ll always prioritize herself over everyone else. However, only because she feels that she can’t exist as anything other than the princess of the twilight and has to prioritize her survival for the sake of her people. Midna even says so at the start of the game, she can’t be kind because she wasn’t spoiled like princess Zelda in the bountiful kingdom of the light.

Midna is so selfish and yet doesn’t really have her own wants and needs as a person outside of the role she has to play for her people, which is why she’s so terribly lost without it and just because this terrible selfish little gremlin. Link and Zelda affect Midna so much because they humanize her. They both sacrifice themselves to save Midna the person and she doesn’t get why. She doesn’t get why two people would help someone who has been so unkind to them and who has failed them this much so far.

That act of selflessness moves her, and also freaks her out. She even says she didn’t want to be saved by either of them. Which is what makes her redemption in the second half of the game so interesting, because Midna really improves herself so she can become someone worth their kindness. She doesn’t want the selflessness of people like Zelda and Link to go to waste, and because of that begins to care about things outside of her kingdom and her role as princess

Vriska Serket

“After all of this is over. Do you want to go on a d8?”

Unfortunately one of my top 3 favorite characters of all time comes from a really terrible source material. Vriska is everything I like in a character. She's a mess. She's really hard to swallow. She's a character that's not meant to be liked.

Nobody really likes Vriska and it's all her fault for being such a horrible person, nobody wants her damage. Which is so interesting because usually main characters get forgiven over and over again. Everyone leaves and if they don't Vriska will burn those bridges herself. No character better embodies what it's like to be stuck in a self harming cycle

Authors are always so obsessed with making characters look good or showing what a good person they are few characters are allowed to be just plain unlikely in ugly ways. It’s what lets Vriskas genuine desire to be better actually seem like a struggle.

Kocho Shinobu

“Are you angry? Yes, I’m angry Tanjiro. I’ve always been angry.”

Shinobu is just all pleasantries on the surface, but so full of negative emotions in ways women aren't allowed to be. I love the medicine / poison dynamic to her character and how it rots her to the core. Too much medicine is a poison, while poison can be a medicine when applied to the right situation.

Shinobu is, two faced. She’s beautiful and kind, and full of ugly emotions and empty. She nurses people back from the dead, she sees no point in living herself and purposefully throws herself into a suicide in her plan against Doma. There’s just such a destructive dance between extremes for her because Shinobu is such a unique individual, trying to deal with all of these emotions she just can’t deal with. She can’t be noble, or better than her trauma, she just pretends to be a good person while she slowly rots away inside.

Shinobu can put on smiles all day -

But she can't be like her sister. She can't love people like her sister can. Maybe she could once but all that's left now is anger. Bitter, unpleasant, and completely in denial of it and still masquerading as a good person. The most beautiful kind of poison of all.

She’s not her sister, but she’s also not really her own person. She doesn’t know who Shinobu is, doesn’t know who Kocho Shinobu lives for. She just doesn’t imagine herself living past her revenge, and even though she’s surrounded by love she’s just so cracked it all pours out of her and absolutely nothing could be worth prolonging her life after everything she’s lost.

Toga Himiko

“What exactly is a normal life? I also live a normal life, you know.”

Himiko Toga is a girl who lives entirely on her own terms. Which is just so rare for a female character, you know? It’s so genuinely subversive to know that Himiko was once a nice girl, who always smiled, always put other people’s feelings first, and that sort of ‘good girl’ behavior drove her completely insane.

Toga deciding to be true to herself is an act of rebellion against the world.

For Himiko everything is flipped. What others regard as psycho behavior is her normal. She doesn’t let other people define her story as a tragedy, and even murders the one person who tries to control her story. In a story where female characters constantly downplay their own importance to support the male characters Himiko is the only character important enough to be the center of her own story. Himiko’s story is so subversive as well, both of how society treats her, and how the story treats characters like her.

Himiko is such an excellent yandere, all yanderes wish they were himiko. She comes off as this batshit stabby girl, but then you find out that shes actually emotionally perceptive. She first comes off selfish, bratty, and self-centered but she turns into one of the most sensitive characters in the manga. She eschews the ideals of being a good girl that was forced down her throat, but that doesn’t mean she’s not empathic, or that she’s not capable of goodness. She’s good to twice. She’s good to the people who accept her.

Himiko no matter what will always be a deviant. Always be an outsider. Instead of trying to make room for her her parents forced her to lie and wear a mask until her identity became completely shattered. I like Toga because under the knife wielding psycho she's a normal girl. Then under that normal girl there’s also a knife wielding psycho ready to fight back, and both of them are the real her.

Ihei Hairu

“I saw the reaper, he was very beautiful.”

Every character from the garden is just fundamentally broken. Hairu and Rize are interesting foils, because if you think of about it a loveless childhood turned them both into ruthless killers. It’s just they decided to live for different things, Rize lived rejecting love and Hairu lived chasing after love. However, fundamentally they are the same. They are children starved for any kind of love or nurturing. Hairu is so desperate she devotes her entire life to the first person who acknowledged her. However, the same sort of desperation to live, that tragic need to make the most out of the few short years they have exists in all garden children.

Hairu wants so badly to be a person, but she’s not a person. She’s half ghoul.

There's just something about a girl who was never meant to be born and never meant to live, still trying. There's a dark side to her character, she's violent and inhuman exactly like the environment she was raised in but she was also still a child at heart seeking love.

Which is why though her narrative is a thoroughly unhappy one, it does make me happy that there was someone who loved her in the form of Koori Ui. There is someone who wanted her to live longer. Her life was short, but she did live, and it’s that struggle to connect to others that made her truly alive.

#hairu ihei #ajimu najimi #enoshima junko #toga himiko #kocho shinobu #midna #rachel roth #raven #azula #vriska serket #morrigan #morrigan dragon age #meme #spooky speaks

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moon--vixen · 5 years

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Today, June 28th 2019 around noon, my baby boy Kit passed away in my arms. He was 17 human years old, 95 cat years old. He outlived his kidneys, but he hung on for two days, so we could prepare and give him the end he deserved.

Today, I’d like to share the life of the little angel that changed mine forever.

Some time in October 2002, when I was 9 years old, my Mother and I walked into a pet store we’d never been to before, and right at the front doors was a large cage holding one mother cat and a full litter of kittens, all around 5 months old.

The one little black kitten caught my eye, and in that instant I knew. I knew he was meant to be mine. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I begged my Mother to let me hold him, and she eventually agreed. The store clerk opened the door and let me pick him up, and he instantly melted in my arms, and completely stole my heart. He was completely and utterly relaxed, and even though I was a complete stranger, he was completely at peace letting me cradle him in my arms like a baby, looking up at me with the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen.

I knew in that moment that I couldn’t leave the store without him. I just couldn’t. I begged my Mother to let me have him, but she worried about the logistics of introducing two cats in a very cramped two bedroom apartment that already had 3 people and a 2 year old cat that was notorious for not liking other animals.

She eventually forced me to leave him behind for the night, assured by the store clerks that he would still be there tomorrow. I spent the rest of the day making my case. He’s a black cat, we love black cats. His (temporary) name is Uncle Fester, Wednesday and Morticia Addams were my role models and the Addams Family movies were our favorites to watch around Halloween, alongside Hocus Pocus. And once I pointed out to her how he let me hold him, how relaxed he was, she too was convinced, and it was time to tackle convincing Dad.

But that too didn’t take long. He captured all our hearts, and the next day I walked out of the store with my sweet boy, whom we renamed Kit, after the witches’ familiar from the TV show Charmed. A name I very quickly came to love and took as my own nickname, leading to many funny looks when I would talk about him.

One of the first things we did upon getting him home was give him a bath. The cage he had been in was small, but tall, but it seemed only the mother cat ever left the bottom half. Holding a litter of at least 8 kittens, there was only one small litter box and one food and water bowl. My sweet baby had poop dried on the end of his tail and old food all over his feet.

He didn’t mind the bath. He was so curious about the water, and even played with it, splashing around in it and exploring.

Our other cat, Tiggeriss, knew something was up, and she clawed and hissed at the door. It seemed Mother’s worries were well founded. We couldn’t keep them apart. He was curious about her, and she, the Queen Bee of the house, demanded loudly to be made aware of who had entered her kingdom.

We couldn’t get in or out without them trying to dart in or out. Eventually, we put him back in the carrier and brought it into the tiny living room. Tiggeriss was on it in a second, sniffing wildly. I opened the carrier and he walked straight out, innocent little boy that he was. but in that moment, magic happened.

She hissed at him, and in an instant he plopped over onto his side and exposed his belly to her, submitting to her completely. She sniffed him for a bit, and began giving him a bath.

20 minutes later, they were curled up together taking a nap, like they’d known each other their whole lives. Inseparable, as they’d be for the next 17 years.

He fit into our family perfectly, though it still took some adjusting. We had a black mat at the front door, and often on our way out we’d see nothing but two little green eyes looking back at us, the void swallowing the rest of him whole.

Tiggeriss was still always the Queen Bee, but she clearly considered him her son and treated him as such. When they’d eat, she’d let him have any extra of hers he wanted. When we tried playing with her, all strategic and allowing her to track and hunt the toy, he’d come plowing in like the silly little kitten he was and go nuts.

But it also went the other way. Tig hates car rides, panicking every time we have to take her somewhere. She’d scream and yowl and pace around the car staring out every winder desperate for an escape. But Kit? He was as calm as he ever was. On trips where we’d have to hit the highway he’d get a little car sick at first, but otherwise he stayed calm, and that in turn kept her calm.

We moved into a nice house, and bought them a brand new large scratching post, one twice as tall as I was, and almost still is. They loved it, of course. and it still sits beside me as I write this now, showing all the love it’s gotten for the last 17 years.

He was the snuggliest, most affectionate baby. His relaxed and trusting nature never wavered, even around rowdy children. My friends dubbed him “Mush”, for how he would just melt in your arms without a care in the world, and “Mr. Underfoot” for how he’d always follow you around, and constantly be “underfoot” and in the way, just to be around you more.

And he was always, so, so curious. Always wanting to discover new things, new smells, new experiences. Seemingly he’d forget about his exciting adventures the year before, so every winter he’d discover snow all over again.

He became our wonderful Halloween cat, always enjoying being outside and seeing all the kids coming around with us. Sometimes it’d get to be a bit overwhelming, but he’d still enjoy sitting inside the glass door and watching. He was the best living Halloween decoration we ever had.

My Father, who always claimed to dislike cats and felt dogs were so much better, warmed up to him very quickly, deciding Kit was his cat. We would playfully argue about it often, fighting over who got to lay claim to the cat he didn’t want in the first place.

His days were spent ether on Dad’s bed, my bed, or at the foot of my recliner, snuggling with my feet or in my lap, when he wasn’t playing with one of us or Tig.

He was the most loving cat you’d ever meet. I was always horribly bullied in school. I always assumed that if my classmates themselves didn’t kill me, the stress would. I never bothered to think about my future because I assumed I’d never have one. I had resigned myself to a short life, but then I’d come home to his squeaky little meow, the meow that never deepened no matter how old he got because he was neutered a little too early. And I knew I’d be ok. I had to be. I couldn’t leave him behind. He needed me and loved me and I refused to die on him or Tiggeriss, no matter how bad things got.

Because I knew, as soon as I looked into his eyes, those eyes that loved me unconditionally, who didn’t care about me being gay, or my terrible pimples, who didn’t think I was stupid and ugly and worthless, and I knew that was all that mattered. HE was all that mattered.

Those big, beautiful green eyes, gems adorning the velveteen little rumbling furnace that was our beloved never ending ball of fluff.

In fact, we even got a very nice, fancy comb we were warned was so good it was known to cause a balled spot if we combed him in the same spot too much.

We tried once, just to see if we could. We never made a single dent in his fur, no matter how hard we tried.

And his fur was the softest thing I’ve ever felt. It was like owning a large chinchilla, lost in the void of a starless night. Soft, and shiny, with a rumbling motor boat underneath that you could hear from the other side of the room, especially when he got chin scritches, his favorite place for affection.

Once he hit late adulthood, he developed arthritis. It became hard for him to walk and climb, which meant he spent more time snuggling with one of us than he did playing and exploring anymore, but he seemed to get just as much comfort out of it as we did. He always knew when one of us needed a snuggle, like when I got home after having my wisdom teeth removed. I crashed in my chair instantly, but according to Mom, he climbed right up with me and curled up under my arm and napped with me all day.

No matter how much changed as he aged, how active he was, how well he could walk, how aware he was of himself and his surroundings, some things never changed.

He still loved making things difficult because he just wanted to be close to you,

He still loved lying in the sun and munching on the grass just outside our home,

He and Tig would still climb all over me when morning rolled around and they were hungry,

He still loved his favorite spot next to me on my bed,

And snuggling with his loved ones. Even on his last days.

He knew the end was near. When we took him to the emergency vet, she said she was shocked he was still alive, as he was in such bad shape he could go at any moment. He could have just as easily died the night before, but he hung on. He hung on one more night for us. So we could prepare, so I could have one more night with him in my arms. Just one more night.

And there is nothing in the world I am more thankful for than him, and the love he showed me for the last 17 years.

Rest in peace my angel.

You will forever be loved, and never, ever forgotten.

#personal #my angel #my cats #mostlycatsmostly #thank you so much Kit #for everything you did for me #my only wish is that you knew just how much you meant to us #how loved you will always be #I will never forget you and the love you shared with me #you made life worth living #and I will always honor that in your memory #I will continue to live life to the fullest just as you did #with the same pure love and unwavering kindness you shared with us #rest my love #you have more than earned it

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

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Brother

The journey from Vodka Aunt to Wine Mom starts with Scottish coffee.

Or, Nicole totally thought this through, shut up Janet.

----.----

Nicole had believed -she had believed it would be… not easy, but easier than it had been, for Janet. She had been blindsided, after all, and completely out of her depth. Nicole, as she was now, had a good amount of practice under her belt- almost thirteen years of it. She shouldn’t be as clumsy about this as Jan had been, those first few weeks of Tim’s life.

In any other world, she would have been indifferent to the wounds, the verbal abuse, the disdain and blatant use of an innocent and manipulable mind. But here, now, she had been an aunt- a godmother, for almost thirteen years. Maybe it was Timmy’s kindness, absorbed into her bones via osmosis, maybe it was the maternal instinct Janet sometimes complained took over her life at irregular intervals to make her a better mother, maybe it was because he reminded her so much of her godson… but she just couldn’t stand it.

So she gathered her resources, called in a couple favors, took the child and disappeared into the night. That part was easy; Talia might be stronger, physically speaking, but Nicole’s mind could moon-walk circles around hers all day long.

But, what now? Back in Gotham as per her plan, where Talia couldn’t just waltz in and do as she wished without an angry bat breathing down her neck, but totally fucking lost as to what her next steps should be.

So she goes to Janet. If years of friendship aren’t enough to get her to help, she could always remind her of how it was thanks to Nicole’s contacts that she got Shiva as Tim’s self-defense teacher.

The bitch owes her.

----.----

Tim isn’t worried, exactly, when aunt Nicole power-walks into the tea room where mother and son are having breakfast -much more cozy than the dining room- and smiles tersely, asking if she could have a word with Janet.

He is, though, when she asks him to leave the room. Because never before has Nicole cared that Tim heard what she talked with mom, be it a complain about some mutual acquaintance or some confidential information from one of her cases.

He leaves, of course, because he respects her enough, but sends one not-actually-scared -but-close-enough look at his mother on the way out.

The second the door is closed, he can hear Nicole blurting something out, and the deafening sound of a teacup crashing into the floor. He rushes his steps, stopping by his room to grab his camera before going outside. He doesn’t want to be there for the fall out, if mom’s initial reaction was to lose her grip on her cup. Maybe he should call uncle Lex, get a little vacation outside the city (and line of fire).

He’s entertaining the thoughts of asking for a lift via Lex Corp special jet towards Paris vs Japan, when he sees the kid sitting under his favorite tree.

He approaches, curious and tentative, and the kid looks up to him when he gets within arm distance (doesn’t look surprised, like he knew Tim was there all along). The moment he sees him clearly, though, Tim freezes.

The shape of his eyes. The color of his hair. The ears, the contorn of the face, the scowl. His skin might be tanner, and his irises a different tint, but he looks at the kid for less than a second and knows, without a doubt, that he’s looking at Bruce Wayne’s son.

His heart might have stopped, but the mind is a wonderful thing that never stops working, and the next order of business is figuring out who the mother is. He remembers Nicole’s tight face, her venomous green eyes almost equal to this kid’s, and… Yeah, okay, so this is also Talia Al Ghul’s spawn. What the hell was Bruce thinking? Does Dick know? Does Bruce know?

-Stop looking at me like a buffon, or I’ll have your eyes removed -speaks up the kid, and Tim’s mind reminds him that, yeah, he isn’t looking at a picture, but a real, breathing human being. A six-or-seven year old being, despite his speech.

Manners kicking to the forefront of his head, he crouches down in front of the kid, camera dangling from his neck, all but forgotten by its owner for maybe the first time ever.

-Hey there. My name is Timothy Drake -he smiles, hand offered with kindness, but eyes sharp as he keeps on inspecting the face in front of his. That, and his name, seems to immediately change the kid’s opinion of him, because his eyes widen and he’s quick to return the greeting.

Aunt Nicole must have said something to him about Tim and his special position as Janet Drake’s son, because when the kid shakes his hand (calloused, with more than one scar, probably more used at handling a weapon than Tim is going to be at the end of his life), he’s being almost comically careful about it, as if he’s unsure about how much to squeeze or shake without hurting him. Nicole probably stressed into him about Tim being delicate and how he should handle him with care, which, bullshit, he’s not a baby anymore, not like this kid.

-I see. I’ve heard about you a lot from Aunt during my travels here. My name is Ibn al Xu’ffasch.

Tim blinks twice, smile firmly in place, hand holding lightly into the kid’s. There’s something ridiculous about Bruce’s kid literally being called ‘Son of the bat’.

-...my other name is Damian, Damian Al Ghul.

-I see. Which one do you prefer?

This seems to baffle the kid, though he recovers quickly. Has anyone ever asked him for his preference on something as personal as his name?- You may address me as Damian.

-Okay then, Damian. I was going to go around the property for a walk, take some picture of animals. Why don’t you come with me? You can also tell me a little about yourself. With Nicole as your Aunt, we are sure to meet often.

----.----

-So you just… took the kid and ran.

-No, I had a well thought plan. And I didn’t ran. That’s undignified.

-Really, now.

-I couldn’t just leave him, Jan. He’s six.

-He’s a genetically engineered baby trained since birth by your psychotic sister in how to be a perfect killing machine. Excuse me if I think he can handle himself. But whatever, what’s done is done. What are you going to do now?

-I… I kinda hoped you’d tell me.

-...I’ll tell the butler to prepare refreshments. This is going to be a long talk.

-Vodka?

-It’s nine in the morning, you unclassy fool. We are having Scottish coffee. Besides, you acquired a child, you can’t be the vodka aunt any longer. If anything, be the wine mom.

-No, I’m not adopting this kid. Rip to Bruce, but I’m not like him.

-Well, I’m not doing it for you either.

-I’m not asking that! I plan on giving him to his dad to look after, but he’s too…

-Murderous?

-...yeah, that. I’m going to try to ease him into normal society as much as I can before calling Wayne, to prevent a full blown out culture shock.

-This is Gotham, dear. You want normal society, go to Metropolis. But sure, I’ll help you with this. You might have to move into the Manor for a few weeks, though. Also, you are lucky Tim is on break right now, his innate kindness might help in this. But if your demonic nephew touches a single hair in Tim’s head, I’m throwing him to the sharks.

-Are you talking about reporters, the League of Assassins, or actual sharks?

-Yes.

----.----

Tim snaps a quick pic when the kid isn’t looking, because this is precious.

Damian had been a proud little prick at first, refusing to show the interest shining in his eyes towards the multiple animals Tim introduced him to. But by the time they left behind the horse (the one Lex gave him on his tenth birthday), birds and fishes on the property’s pond, and moved into Tim’s pets, he had left his facade behind and did his best to pet every animal at the same time. He couldn’t, of course, didn’t have enough hands for all two cats, the dog and the bunny, but by god he tried.

Sel, the female cat, had taken residence on the kid’s shoulders, lounging there like an Empress, judging them all from above (or as above as she could be, perched on such a small kid that was sitting down to boot). Her partner in crime and life, Alley, rubbed his head under Tim’s chin, comfortable in his human’s arms.

Then, Max, his Golden Retriever dog. He was a sweetheart, and had charmed Damian in less than a minute, greeting him with enthusiastic licks at his hands and a furiously quick tail moving side to side. Damian had been blindsided by the utter cuteness of the dog immediately falling in love with him, and had responded in kind, dedicating almost half an hour to dote on him alone.

Now, almost two hours after meeting the kid, Tim couldn’t help but snap another picture of Damian, sitting on the ground in front of Tim, one hand petting Max who had laid by his side, the other one carefully stroking Butter the Bunny’s head while he rests on his lap. Sel occasionally nudges her head against his cheek to demand for attention, that he gladly provides, and everything seems out of a Disney movie.

He knows this kid is dangerous. Because he is Nicole’s relative, because his eyes are always scanning their surroundings for threats, because his hand is the hand of a warrior.

But he looks up at Tim when Sel gives a tiny lick to his check, looking as if he’d been blessed by the Kitten Gods and needs guidance on the appropriate response, and Tim thinks he could overlook the danger. God knows everyone is afraid of Mom, and that doesn’t stop Tim from kissing her cheek and hugging her at least once per day.

This kid deserves love, too, and he always wanted a sibling.

#janet drake #Janet drake au #Janet Drake is a scary lady #Nicole Al Ghul (oc)#Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #My writing #No edit people #I'm bored and procastinating

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years

Text

Written In The Stars XXVII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I make the notes a week prior i post the chapter and i got my wisdom tooth removed (i only had one cause I’m cool) last tuesday, i hope future me is doing well

Words: 2,706

Warnings: A dead-looking cat and rotten food

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Nine: Deathday Party.

The rain was especially heavy during October, it wouldn’t take long before winter arrived and took away the little warmth they had in the castle.

Mel managed to keep her word during those months, dedicating most of her time to getting the best grades on every lesson -Potions was still a nightmare- and her mother’s mood improved as well, she was visiting her uncle because he’d gotten sick, and the aftermatch kept him in bed for longer than expected.

Her uncle had gotten sick a few years before, same as now, she was hoping things would go just as well. An improvement was that she didn’t have to write the same thing twice now that her mum and uncle were in the same house.

“-And there’s absolutely no chance will beat Slytherin, they’re a bunch of cheaters and now they’re also fast,” Fred huffed, “We’ve got no chance I tell you, Oliver’s going to throw himself into the lake after the match”

She’d been listening to the twins while finishing the letter for her mum. Only making fewer sounds whenever they paused so they knew she was paying attention.

“Harry’s our only hope,” George said miserably.

“You still have a chance against Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, don’t you?” She asked while closing the envelope of her letter. “Make it count.”

“Slytherin’s our first match, Mel,” Fred looked up, he and George’d been trying to feed a salamander one of his Filibuster fireworks, “if we lose that, we lose against the rest”

“Can you talk lower over there?” Ron snapped, he turned to look at his brothers. The boy was weary and bored out of his mind, trying to finish his potions homework, which made him very grumpy. “Some of us are trying to work!”

“Sod off,” George replied. “If we’re annoying how come neither Mel or Hermione are complaining?”

“I can’t complain about it when you’re talking to me, can I?” She smiled. “And ‘Mione’s an expert at ignoring people when she’s studying”

Harry walked in, covered in mud just like Fred and George minutes ago, he mumbled a 'hi’ and went straight to his room to get changed.

“How is he holding?” Mel inquired, pointing to where Harry had vanished moments ago.

The boys shrugged.

“You know Harry, he doesn’t really complain- keeps it to himself…”

“How do you think he’s doing?”

“How do you think he’s doing?” Fred asked back, “You know him better, don’t you?”

“That’s why I’m so worried,” She said grimly, “he looks… not great”

The conversation died after that, Fred and George were catching people’s attention and several students were now around their table, watching eagerly to their experiment. Ron, Hermione, and Mel sat quietly, only asking a few things here in there. After half an hour Harry came back, sitting next to his friend and looking a bit sleepy.

“Want some?” Mel offered him a piece of chocolate, a gift from her uncle.

“No thanks,” Harry replied, then he added, “I ran into Nearly Headless Nick on my way to the tower…”

He told them about his talk with him, and how he’d save Harry from getting detention. As a way to thank him, Harry agreed to assist at his 'Deathday party’. Nick also sent the invitation to Mel, Ron, and Hermione.

“A deathday party?” asked Hermione. “I bet there aren’t many living people who can say they’ve been to one of those - it’ll be fascinating!”

“Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?” Ron was still in an awful mood, “Sounds dead depressing to me…”

“It could be fun,” Mel shrugged, finishing the last piece of her candy and putting the wrapper away, “and educational”

“Way to make it sound thousand times more boring,” Ron said under his breath.

The table on their right exploded into laughter as the Salamander shot up in the air.

“EVERYONE GET OUT!” Percy made its way through the crowd as the twins tried to catch the salamander, “YOU TWO ARE A HEADACHE, I’LL TELL PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL ABOUT THIS AND YOU’LL BOTH GET DETENTION-”

Mel stood up, horrified and wishing for the little creature to be alright, she walked up to where the Salamander landed, still throwing golden and orange sparks.

“Don’t touch it,” Hermione said immediately, “It’ll burn you”

“Is it in pain?” Mel asked worryingly.

“-I SWEAR I WON’T MISS HAVING TO DEAL WITH YOU, ONCE I GRADUATE FROM SCHOOL, YOU’LL STOP BEING MY PROBLEM-”

“Don’t think so, Salamanders are like tiny dragons,” Ron said with an amused expression, he was glad to have an excuse to not pay attention to his homework, “they like fire”

Mel watched the tiny creature disappear in a cloud of sparks and colorful flames.

Mel didn’t think much about the feast she would be missing, Nick’s party could be just as fun, right?

She had to make a quick stop in the library, the deadline to give back one of the books she used for her essay on Vampires was about to expire and she didn’t want Pince scolding her.

She saw Erick returning from his Hogsmeade trip as she made her way back to her common room.

She wanted to ask about the trip, but they hadn’t talked since their little fight -had it really been a fight?- and was afraid of how he’d react.

However, as soon as he saw her, Erick excused himself from the group and discretely pointed to the stairs that guided to a hidden passageway. Mel followed a few steps behind, finding Erick behind the tapestry.

“Hi,” She said timidly, “are we good?”

“Have we ever been?” Erick said jokingly. “I figured you’d be feeling guilty… Gryffindors are so impulsive and then when the adrenaline it’s over they regret everything… I’m fine.”

“You are?” She frowned. “Then why did we stop talking?”

“I’ve been preoccupied,” He shrugged casually. “You never answered my note, by the way.”

“I didn’t know what to say!” She said defensively. “I thought you were angry! How was I suppose to send you a note saying-'Oh, and I want you to buy me some sugar quills, thank you’- Who do you think I am?”

“You’re too nice for sure,” He smirked. “I bought you something anyway, though I don’t know if you’ll like it…”

He searched in his pockets and pulled out a small blue bag.

“They’re all different- some of them are my favorites, some of them I can’t stand,” Erick explained. “Take it as a test, you like the wrong kind and I’ll stop talking to you for real.”

“Very funny,” She said, grabbing the bag. “I have to go…”

“Are you going to the feast?”

“Headless Nick invited Harry to his deathday party and we’re all going”

Erick looked at her in mild surprise.

“Right,” He nodded. “Send him my… condolences?”

“Will do,” She walked away and glanced at him one last time, he had an odd expression on his face.

“Have fun…”

The party was anything but fun.

Erick was aware of it, hence why he smiled at her like that, knowing full well what she was getting herself into and not bothering to warn her. She planned to have a serious talk with that boy about things that were funny and things that weren’t.

Also, she was starving.

The ghosts of the hunt arrived and ruined Nick’s party… Well, it was already bad, but now it was ruined for Nick as well as for them.

“I’m freezing,” Mel whispered, inching closer to Harry and clinging to his arm.

“I can’t stand much more of this,” Ron murmured as well, looking at the table with rotten food.

“Let’s go,” Harry nodded towards the exit.

“Pudding might not be finished yet,” Ron said eagerly, almost running towards the Great Hall.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, he let go of her arm and in a rush he supported one hand on the stone wall, leaning his head towards it.

“Glasses?” Mel stopped too, watching him.

“Harry, what’re you -?”

“It’s that voice again - shut up a minute -”

“What are you-?”

“Listen!” Harry urged them.

None of them could hear a thing.

“Harry,” Mel said, reaching for his shoulder, “we can’t hear anything.”

He gave her one frantic look before replying.

“This way…”

Harry guided them through the entrance hall and up the marble stairs, looking around.

“Harry, what’re we -”

“SHH!” He turned around, eyes widening, “It’s going to kill someone!”

Mel and Ron shared one terrified look before following their friend. They didn’t stop running until they reached the second floor.

“Harry, what was that all about?” panted Ron, “I couldn’t hear anything…”

“None of us, really,” Mel frowned, “are you sure it didn’t come from Nick’s par-?”

“Look!” Hermione gasped in horror.

Mel was the first to move towards it, she read the words without understanding their meaning:

'THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.’

“What’s that thing - hanging underneath?” asked Ron, with a shaky voice.

They inched closer, someone slipped behind her and only then she realized they were standing in water, the floor was flooded.

Mrs. Norris was hanging stiff from one of the torches.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Shouldn’t we try and help -”

“Trust me,” Ron insisted. “We don’t want to be found here.”

“I agree,” Mel nodded, mouth dry, “let’s go-”

The girl backtracked until she was next to her friends, but just as she did, the rest of the students appeared on both sides of the hall. Everyone went silent.

“Enemies of the Heir, beware! You’ll be next, Mudbloods!” Malfoy had found his way to the front and he was disgustingly happy.

“What’s going on here? What’s going on?” Mel felt all the blood drain from her face as Filch approached them. He saw Mrs. Norris and covered his mouth with anguish. “My cat! My cat! What’s happened to Mrs. Norris?”

His eyes landed on the kids.

“You!” He screeched, and Mel jumped in fear walking even further away from the man, “You! You’ve murdered my cat! You’ve killed her! I’ll kill you! I’ll -”

“Argus!” Dumbledore was there too, along with the rest of the teachers.

He moved through the mass of bodies and detached the cat from the torch.

“Come with me, Argus,” He said. “You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, Miss Dumbledore…”

“My office is nearest, Headmaster,” Lockhart spoke up, “just upstairs - please feel free -”

“Thank you, Gilderoy”

They followed the teachers through the hall without talking. Mel felt a thousand eyes on her but only one pair caught her attention: Bright brown eyes stared at her in horror.

Ginny Weasley looked like she was about to faint.

“She’s not dead, Argus,” Dumbledore said after carefully examining the cat.

“Not dead?” Filch cried. “But why’s she all - all stiff and frozen?”

“She has been Petrified, but how, I cannot say…”

“Ask him!” Filch, yelled, pointing menacingly to Harry.

“He didn’t do anything!” Mel replied in disbelief.

Dumbledore raised his hand to ease her.

“No second year could have done this,” He admitted, “it would take Dark Magic of the most advanced-”

“He did it, he did it!” Filch kept yelling, “You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found - in my office - he knows I’m a -I’m a… He knows I’m a Squib!”

A what?

“I never touched Mrs. Norris!” Harry exclaimed, “And I don’t even know what a Squib is.”

“Rubbish!” Filch spat, “He saw my Kwikspell letter!”

“If I might speak, Headmaster,” said Snape, talking for the first time, “Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time… But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn’t he at the Halloween feast?”

“We were at Nearly Headless Nick party,” Mel replied quickly, “there were hundreds of ghosts, they’ll tell you we were there -”

“But why not join the feast afterward?” Snape pressured, “Why go up to that corridor?”

“Because - because -” Harry stammered, “because we were tired and wanted to go to bed”

“Without any supper?” said Snape, a nasty smile on his face, “I didn’t think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties.”

“They don’t,” Mel continued, “that’s why I had these…”

Mel showed them the bag of candies Erick had given her hours ago. It was full, but Snape couldn’t see that at plain sight. The Professor squinted at her, unconvinced.

“I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter and Dumbledore aren’t being entirely truthful,” he said. “It might be a good idea if the kids were deprived of certain privileges until they’re ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel Mr Potter should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest.”

“But we’re being honest,” Mel stepped forward.

“Really, Severus,” said Professor McGonagall, “I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn’t hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong.”

Dumbledore stared at the children with his deep, icy blue eyes.

“Innocent until proven guilty, Severus,” he said firmly.

“My cat has been Petrified!” Filch whined, “I want to see some punishment!”

“We will be able to cure her, Argus. Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris.”

“I’ll make it,” Lockhart offered, “I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep -”

“Excuse me,” said Snape dangerously calm. “But I believe I am the Potions master at this school.”

“You may go,” Dumbledore said to Harry, Mel, Ron, and Hermione.

They rushed to the door. Instead of heading straight to their tower, they sneaked inside a room so they could speak privately.

“D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?” Harry asked.

“No,” said Ron. “Hearing voices no one else can hear isn’t a good sign, even in the wizarding world.”

Harry gave Ron an eerie look.

“You do believe me, don’t you?”

“'Course I do,” Ron nodded, “But -you must admit it’s weird…”

“I know it’s weird,” Harry frowned. “The whole thing’s weird. What was that writing on the wall about? The Chamber Has Been Opened… What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means trouble is coming,” Mel pushed a chair with her foot, “again.”

“You know, it rings a sort of bell,” Ron wondered. “I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once… might’ve been Bill…”

“And what on earth’s a Squib?” asked Harry.

Ron laughed lightly, Mel raised a brow.

“Well - it’s not funny really - but as it’s Filch… A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn’t got any magic powers. Kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual. If Filch’s trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much. He’s bitter.”

“Why is every rubbish staff member in the school bitter about something?” Mel grumbled, “Grow up, they’re supposed to be the adults…”

A clock in the distance reminded them they should head to their tower.

“Midnight,” said Harry. “We’d better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else.”

Once in the common room, Mel grabbed Harry’s wrist and stopped him as Ron and Hermione kept climbing up the stairs.

He turned around with a confused expression, “Mel?”

“I… I just wanted to say I believe you,” She let go of his hand, playing with her sleeve anxiously, “no one will think you did that to Mrs Norris”

“Tell that to Filch,” He said sarcastically.

Mel smiled.

“Well, no one but Filch will believe that. Better?”

“Better,” Mel stretched out her hand and ruffled his hair, “don’t! The natural mess it’s enough…”

“Glasses,” She chuckled, “you’re asking for the impossible”

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@tiphareth2018 @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @celestialhayi @omiwashere @mikariell95 @thesuitelifeofafangirl

#twoidiots writing #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #ron weasley #hermione granger #draco malfoy #albus dumbledore #fred weasley #george weasley #minerva mcgonagall #argus filch #severus snape #WITT fic

19 notes · View notes

o0o-chibaken-o0o · 5 years

Note

Do you have any rec list with bonds, forced or not between drarry From soulmate bond to magical link, whatever really

OH BOY DO I. This is one of my favorite tropes, and this list (which I made on a whim upon seeing a facebook post about bonding) barely scratches the surface of all the amazing related fics! Enjoy

The Destiny You Sold by @tryslora (59K)- In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.HONESTLY just the memory of this fic is so happy and healing that I’m almost certainly going to reread it a third time within the next week there’s KNITTING!!! But also D/S dynamics and shop-owning and tons of wonderful amazingness

For The Greater Good by @jadepresley (62K)- When Harry and Draco discover they’ve been bonded to one another, neither one of them is prepared for the secrets they slowly begin to uncover. Together, they learn that they can’t escape their past, or the things that have been left hidden there, and that sometimes the only way to move forward is to look back.This fic has SO MANY GREAT THINGS! I started to type them all out but then realized y’all probably don’t want a ton of spoilers and the way the plot of this fic unfolds and everything comes together is just masterful and enthralling and full of surprises!

Lift Your Open Hand by @firethesound (18.5K)- With Draco Malfoy as his assigned partner for the next six weeks of Auror training, Harry had been prepared for things to go poorly. But getting themselves accidentally bonded to each other in the first twenty minutes of their very first assignment seemed going above and beyond, even for them.I love love love this fic! It’s got sort-of bumbling Auror partners!Drarry who get into trouble first thing and then COVER IT UP like a pair of adorable idiots and of course they’re like this will be FINE until it’s not fine and everybody’s in love and Nick Cage is there for some reason and the reader is grinning like a loon

Twice as Much as an Earthquake by @firethesound (18.5K)- Accidental bonding. Breaking and entering. Conspiring, however unwillingly, in the strange one-man war Malfoy’s waging against detention. This isn’t the normal school year Harry anticipated having, but at least it’s not boring.I read this so long ago it is DEFINITELY time for a re-read because all I remember is feeling a great sense of mischief and joy, and like that’s everything we all need in our lives right now.

Unexpected Consequences by lauren3210 (39K)- Harry was going back to school. He was going to play Quidditch, sleep in lessons, hang out with his friends, and generally just enjoy being a kid for a change. And he was also going to do it while being bonded with Malfoy, because apparently life was just going to continue throwing curveballs at him. Harry didn’t know why he expected anything different.This is one of the earliest drarry fics I read (possibly the first eighth year one?) and I have adored it ever sense! It has a wonderful premise, great exploration of issues of consent with a power imbalance, and all your standard amazing bonding tropes– especially roommates!! And Harry being Draco’s protector! OH AND it was written to go with “that picture” (you know the one) and so has an amazing dark mark removal scene that I’ll never forget!

In Evidence of Magical Theory by @bixgirl1 (43.5K)- When a hex meant for Draco accidentally catches Harry as well, they’re forced to learn to understand each other in ways they previously might have thought impossible.In which Harry and Draco can’t fight, so they fall in love instead.OKAY I REMEMBER when I read this fic and was like WHO IS THIS RANDOM AMAZING WRITER??? because it was her first fic and now she’s one of the greats but damn this fic is still a testament to some of the things bix does best and is a must-read!!! Magical theory! Eighth year! Room sharing! BED SHARING! Her first drarry rimming scene!!! (Aww

Salt on the Western Wind by Saras_Girl (60.5K)- When the war isn’t quite as over as it first appears, a guilt-ridden Harry is sent to a mysterious safe-house. Among sandwiches, insomnia, and Mills & Boon, he discovers something quite unexpected. Like every single Saras_Girl fic ever, this fic is a true gem. It’s a relatively simple setting (seeing as they’re stuck in a house) but so realistic and subtle and evocative. The bonding in this fic is more physical than emotional, which is not only an interesting change of pace but also makes for many truly wonderful and embarrassing moments :D

The Comfort of Tea by Omi_Ohmy (20.5K)- A lawn mower, a pertly pink todger, endless cups of tea and a few sly grins. Oh yes, and Harry is cursed to temporarily bond to anyone he gets close to; for some reason that person ends up being Draco, more often than not…OKAY usually bonding fics are all angsty and pining-y, but this one is just fucking ADORABLE and fluffy and warm and cute and it will make you happy!!!!

Soup-pocalypse and the Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (104.5K)- Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.This fic was like a revelation when I read it because it was so. damn. good!!! One of my favorite fics of all time and a VERY refreshing take on the veela!Draco trope. Draco is the most hilarious, snarky, relatable narrator and the story is full of pining and tons of entertaining incidents and it’s just a perfect (and long, bless us all!) fic!

Bond by AnnaFugazzi (173.5)- I started to write this before HBP came out, and crossed my fingers that HBP wouldn’t make it totally non-canon. No such luck, I’m afraid. This, therefore, is an AU story, where (SPOILER) still teaches (SPOILER), (SPOILER) didn’t try to (SPOILER), (SPOILER) didn’t succeed in (SPOILER), (SPOILER) never dated (SPOILER), and most importantly, (MAJOR ENDING SPOILERS) never happened.This is like… the OG drarry bonding fic. An absolute classic, for very good reason! Warning for pressure to be intimate because of the bond.

Timeshare by @astolat (14K)- “It’s not for long,” Hermione said. “By the time we get back to Hogwarts, the Unfettering Brew will be ready.”“Listen to you!” Ron said. “He’s got to get through a month with the Dursleys and a month at Malfoy Manor. With Draco Malfoy.”“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said, because he hadn’t just spent the last week contemplating just how much more horrible his summer holidays were about to be than they’d ever been before.My favorite part about this fic is the sweet sweet satisfaction of Draco meeting the Dursleys and being VERY Malfoy about it. But there are also a lot of touching moments of Harry and Draco figuring each other out and learning to respect each other as well.

Dear Uncle Plume by @eidheann (16.5K)- Life after war is nothing like Draco expected. He only hopes he’ll survive it. Especially when his friends are less than sympathetic.OKAY BUT AGONY AUNT DRACO. That’s literally all that needs to be said and if that isn’t enticing to you then who even are you. Also contains great Slytherin friendships, struggling Draco, and secret relationship -> mpreg -> bond -> angst drama

The Sleeping Beauty Curse by who_la_hoop (152.5K)- When Draco Malfoy falls into a cursed sleep and can only be woken – at least, according to the Daily Prophet, that impeccable source of truth – by ‘true love’s kiss’, Harry Potter knows there’s no way on earth he’s the answer to this particular riddle. Is he …?This is a FABULOUS fic, completely hilarious and touching and full of all your favorite tropes, and SO LONG!!! Hours and hours of pure enjoyment :D

The Arrangement by create_serenity (Sivany) (16K)- The arrangement was very simple really, and very convenient. Draco just hadn’t expected it to result in this mess.So veela!Harry and veela!Draco have a deal in which they casually help each other out (with sex, in case that wasn’t obvious) while they search for their true mates, and OF COURSE you know what happens next and honestly what a brilliant idea

Before the World Was Made by daftfear (43K)- Draco has done everything in his power to leave the past behind him. He’s established himself a successful business and built a reputation around the quality of his work and the breadth of his knowledge. But when aurors show up at his shop one afternoon, seeking his expertise on a peculiar item of questionable origins, they completely overthrow the precarious balance in Draco’s life. Trust Potter to bring danger and destruction in his wake, along with a painful reminder of all the things Draco is trying to forget.WHAT BETTER to bond our two boys together than a cursed (wedding!!) ring, right?? Also I love any and all fics with antique shop owner!Draco, and lots of exploration of wizarding history and traditions, and this one does both things so well

Hungry by birdsofshore (24K)- The first thing Harry knew about it was when he woke up lying on a bed in the hospital wing, with his arm firmly stuck to the scrawny, milk-white arm of Draco bloody Malfoy.Another classing must-read bonding fic!!! This time featuring drarry as enemies with their arms literally stuck together in eighth year. AS GOOD AS IT COULD GET. One of my favorite enemies-to-lovers fics AND one of my favorite eighth year fics!

#drarry #bonding fics #forced bonding #drarry fanfic #fic recs #rec list #chibarecs #disclaimer that these are in no particular order #also i have not proofread this post #I'm glad to be posting a rec list again though!!!#please enjoy it :D #my current rate is like... one every 3 months lmao #this is a good one though 16 fab fics!#my problem is that making a list reminds me of all the rereading I need to do #*helpless shrug*#for that reason still no new rec list requests please-- there are more than enough sitting in my inbox

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caimkairos · 4 years

Text

CHARACTER INTERVIEW

[Just gonna give a fair warning now: I'm not censoring greek mythology. Nothing graphic, but consider the fact that that this is greek mythology as your warning!]

▌real name: Persephone Kore.

▌single or taken: Technically taken, since she is married to, y’know, the God of the Underworld... but she isn’t exactly not looking for a divine divorce attorney either.

▌abilities or powers: I- is it cheating if I link the type up I did on her abilities?

▌eye color: A deep, earth brown. Normally she’s squinting or just vaguely tired, even with the fact that she doesn’t even get that sleep deprived.

▌hair color: A dark green, falling just past her shoulders, often tangled up, into, and by various plant life and bones.

▌family members: Demeter (mother/aunt), Zeus (father/uncle), Kronus (grandfather), Rhea (grandmother), Gaia (great-grandmother), Uranus (great-grandfather), Chaos (great-great ambiguous vortex), Poseidon (uncle), Hestia (aunt), Hera (aunt/step-mom), Hades (uncle/husband), Nyx (great grand aunt), Erebus (great grand uncle), Eros (great grand uncle), Tartarus (great grand uncle), Nemesis (first cousin twice removed), Thanatos (first cousin twice removed), Hypnos (first cousin twice removed), Atlas (second cousin), Prometheus (second cousin), Epimetheus (second cousin), Ares (half-sibling), Hermes (half-sibling/second cousin once removed), Apollo (half-sibling), Artemis (half-sibling), Hephaestus (half-sibling), Hebe (half-sibling), Athena (half-sibling), Dionysus (half-sibling), the Muses (half-siblings), the Sirens (half-nieces/former handmaidens), the Horae (half-siblings), Heracles (half-sibling), Helen (half-sibling), Castor (half-sibling), Polydeuces (half-sibling), Perseus (half-sibling), Argos (half-sibling), Iskandar (half-sibling), Asclepius (half-nephew), Orpheus (half-nephew), Deimos (half-nephew), Phobus (half-nephew), Harmonia (half-niece).

▌pets: Cerberus, the hound of the underworld, who would be friendly to those who entered, but vicious to those who attempted to leave... this includes Hermes, mail man of the gods that he is. Persephone also has a multitude of ‘pets’ that are made up of plants and various dead bodies and animals, like a not quite right Disney princess. It’s fine! They generally don’t bite. (At least, the ones that don't have mouths don't bite.)

▌something they don’t like: Her voice and perspective being ignored. People ignoring and especially outright dismissing her opinions. Extreme black/white thinking. Not being involved in decision making. Fireworks and lightning, and loud, unexpected noises.

▌hobbies/activities: Gardening and science experiments. Studying things and starting new projects is distracting, and she enjoys creating new life, but as more of an activity, she is the co-ruler of the underworld and even when summoned will take lengths to ensure her responsibilities are being fulfilled. She likes to paint as well, but isn't as fond about sharing this. (She needs to get more hobbies.)

▌ever hurt anyone before: Yes.

▌ever killed anyone before: Yes.

▌worst habits: Morbid and has an extremely lacking filter even at the best of times. She tends to assume cooperation and compromise that does not leave all sides petty and bitter is impossible. Nothing is stronger than the ego in Persephone's eyes, even love for someone else. Thus, if 'communication isn't possible', based on her very biased and jaded opinion, it just isn't considered as an option.

▌role models: Demeter and Athena originally, but as her life has gone on, it's shifted to her great-grandmother Gaia. To a certain extent, she looks to Hera and other queens for guidance as well.

▌sexual orientation: Grayasexual.

▌thoughts on marriage/kids: Bitter. Marriage is a forced contract, something she had no real choice in. Her husband is devoted, but he is still the man that stole her away and forced her entire life to change for his will. He could have been worse, he treated her as an equal… but she could never love him. Not while she was still a captive even as a queen. Children are likewise a bitter thought. She never had her own, and is unsure if they would have helped the situation… or just made it worse.

▌fears: The temporary. No roots may be set, eternally running back and forth between life and death. Being forced to finally speak her mind and have her thoughts exposed to the two she has grown bitter to. The idea that to be free, she would have to give up all that makes her, her.

▌style preferences: Practicality, function over form. Her messiness is half rebellion, half freedom, and half finally having stopped caring. Steampunk and sci-fi stuff are her favorites; Persephone found wacky goggles and glasses and immediately fell in love with them.

▌someone they love: That's complicated.

▌approach to friendships: Rather casual. She doesn't really change her approach depending on the person, and such honestly can be alternatively charming or tactless.

▌thoughts on pie: The lattice patterns are pretty… but besides that, they're eh.

▌favorite drink: Water. What?

▌favorite place to spend time at: The dying garden, the lively graveyard.

▌swim in the lake or in the ocean: The lake.

▌their type: The kind to respect her opinion and acknowledge it even if it doesn't get agreed with. An equal in some sort of way. People who make her, genuinely, laugh.

▌camping or indoors: Camping, without a second thought.

Tagged by: @caemthe (tHANK YOU!!!)

Tagging: I FEEL LIKE EVERYONE HAS DONE THIS BUT IF YOU HAVEN’T? GUESS WHAT? I’M TAGGING YOU NOW. IF YOU HAVE A MULTI-MUSE AND WANNA DO IT AGAIN? I’M TAGGING U SPECIFICALLY.

#bounce bounce back to me.dash games #lost in worlds demanding.persephone headcanons #((i havE SO MANY WORDS but internet is dead on my laptop so #((TYPED THIS MOSTLY UP ON MOBILE SO APOLOGIES IF THERE ARE FORMATTING ERRORS AS A RESULT #((but yes i may ramble some here so #((a common thing i see in modern retellings of the abduction of persephone is a strong leaning towards trying to give persephone agency #((which i understand completely! but... and no criticism to ppl who enjoy viewing the myths in these wayd #((you do you!#((but i think it can be... a bit odd? to change a story about a girl adbucted to be married to an older man (even discounting that he is #related to her as many tellings (thankfully kwndken) avoid this) as a good thing?#a common take that i see is to make hades a misunderstood bad boy especially because he was absolutely not the worst greek husband #not by a long shot!#he only has one possible story of cheating and specifically set out to make persephone his equal. we don't really see a lot of strife there.#which makes the desire to make it a perfectly happy relationship really understandable #and i am admittedly a big advocate for balancing the culture of the time a story was told and what implications it holds w/modern looks and #analysis of a story. a story can never truly be seperated COMPLETELY from the person telling it.#but this approach tends to make demeter into the villain #which... i do not quite agree with. at least in my rping of persephone.#i hope that doesn't upset anyone ahhhh #just needed to ramble about it idbdkenfken

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sunnyrollins · 5 years

Note

Hello there lovely! Firstly, I LOVE your writing. You're just so GOOD. It literally lights up my day when I see you've posted a Rollisi prompt. Much love! Secondly, I was wondering if there was any chance of you doing a song prompt. I adore "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur for Rollisis and would love to see some sort of fic based on it. No pressure if it's not your style. Take it or leave it. Love your work! You're the hero us Rollisi fans need!

[anon, this literally made me cry ilysm ! i’m so sorry this took me so long to get to ! i hope you saw the post i made shortly after you sent this saying i was doing it so you don’t think i just totally ignored you especially after all your kindness !]

The precinct felt particularly quiet that night. It usually did after a particularly difficult case. And, even after years of working at SVU, nothing was more difficult for Amanda than working cases involving children.

She sat at her desk, looking intently at the pictures of her daughters that were proudly displayed, unable to stop the familiar, intrusive thoughts from encroaching into her consciousness. She’d seen the worst of what the world had to offer working in the field that she chose. If anything were to ever happen to either of her girls…

She had enough restraint to flip the switch before the thought could fully manifest. Jesse and Billie were okay. They were fine…probably warm and comfortable in their pajamas, unwinding before bed. The thought was comforting, but also brought on a wave of almost guilt. Her kids were happy and safe and loved. The kids who’d been victimized by that animal…

“Rollins,” Amanda blinked back the tears that had threatened to spill at the corners of her eyes and turned to face Olivia at the sound of her voice. “Go home. Be with the girls.”

Amanda shook her head, as if to jostle the dark thoughts from her mind, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Yeah,” she agreed. Her eyes flickered to the framed photographs of her daughters one last time before she finally stood up from her desk. “These cases make you wanna go home and hug the people you love a little tighter.”

“I know Noah and I will be watching an extra hour of TV together tonight,” Olivia agreed with a small, sad smile.

Amanda returned the sentiment, but thought twice before offering a response on how her own night would transpire. Keeping things in her personal life under wraps had been getting inexplicably more difficult as time went on, and she’d found that she had almost slipped up on quite a few occasions within the past month.

Keeping secrets from Olivia and Fin was discernibly not her favorite thing to do, but it was necessary…for the sake of the job as well as for the sake of preserving what was hers and only hers for as long as possible. She loved them like they were family, but they — if nothing else — were opinionated. And it had admittedly been nice not having an outside opinion on her life outside of work since she’d been pregnant with Billie.

When it was clear that a nod was all the response that her detective was going to give, Olivia pulled her bag up a little higher onto her shoulder, fastening the final button on her coat. “Give the girls an extra kiss for me,” she said.

Amanda nodded again, her smile a little less melancholic this time. “See you in the morning, Captain.”

When she arrived back home, Amanda stopped outside of her apartment to fish her keys out of her coat pocket. From the other side of the door, she could hear a familiar voice, and a small smile touched her lips, as she paused to listen to the sound of the thick, Staten Island accent reading the words to one of Jesse’s favorite books that she had all but memorized by that point.

“The witch had a cat and a hat that was black, and long ginger hair in a braid down her-”

“Back!” Jesse finished excitedly.

Amanda smiled to herself before finally unlocking and opening the door, and the sight in front of her — with Billie sleeping soundly against Carisi’s shoulder and Jesse curled up against his side to look at the pictures in the book — was enough to send every fearful and negative thought about the recently closed case back into the furthest corners of her consciousness.

“Mommy!” Jesse exclaimed with a wave in her direction once she closed the door behind her.

The small smile that Amanda previously wore grew as she exchanged glances between all of the familiar faces. “You three havin’ fun without me?”

Jesse climbed into Carisi’s lap to take the book out of his hands and turn it to show the pictures to her mother. “We’re reading Room on the Broom!”

“Again?” Amanda asked with mock surprise. As if by second nature, she unclasped her necklace to remove the diamond ring that had been tucked into her shirt all day before slipping it back into its rightful place on her left hand. “One more reading and Uncle Sonny might start asking for a lobotomy.”

Carisi chuckled, but Jesse simply looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “What’s a bononomy?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her. “How about before we finish me and Mom get Billie settled for the night and you can show her the picture you drew before, alright?”

“Okay!” Jesse agreed easily and with a jovial smile. She clambered out of his lap and set the book down on the coffee table, taking off down the hallway nearly as soon as her slippers hit the floor.

Amanda took the sleeping toddler from Carisi’s arms, kissing her head and holding her just a little bit closer than usual, and he followed behind her as they made their way into Billie’s dimly lit bedroom to put her to bed. After tucking her in and whispering a gentle goodnight, she turned to the man behind her, winding her arms tightly around his waist, and resting her head against the crook of his neck.

It seemed contrived, but she couldn’t help but notice that all of the darkness that had tainted her world throughout the years had become a little bit lighter since she’d finally allowed herself to fully let him in. From childhood, life had been anything but easy.. It all lingered in the back of her consciousness in a seemingly endless cycle. Maybe it always would. But sometimes in the simplest moments…when she’d watch him tuck the girls into bed, or she’d wake up to a gentle kiss before he’d get up to put on a pot of coffee…it all seemed to fade away for a little while.

She breathed out nearly all of the tension of the day in a soft sigh, her eyes squeezing closed as if to help her to memorize everything about him in that moment — the warmth of his skin, the smell of the cologne on the collar of his shirt, the soft whisper of his voice when he finally spoke.

“You alright?”

Her hand smoothed absentmindedly down his back, and she pulled away from the hug just enough to tilt her head up to look at him. “Better now,” she responded.

Now that I’m with my family.

She’d completed the thought exclusively in her mind, but the way he quirked a curious eyebrow and the corners of his lips turned up in amusement let her know that he’d recognized the implication. “Gettin’ domestic on me, Rollins?” He teased.

She rolled her eyes playfully, and when he leaned down to kiss her, she aptly dodged it with a laugh. “If I ever get domestic you’ll know it,” she assured him.

The truth was, she had gotten more domestically sentimental throughout the year and a half they’d been together romantically. She had, admittedly, rolled her eyes at the “marry your best friend” sentiment in the past. It seemed too cliche…childish even. Maybe that was because — before now — the vast majority of men she’d dated in the past hadn’t actually been her friends at all, she wondered.

“I thought you might be headin’ in that direction when you actually agreed to marry me,” he finally said with a chuckle.

“Well if it’s any consolation I’ve still got time to change my mind.” Her smile indicated that she was only joking without her having to say it, and this time when he leaned down to peck her lips, she graciously accepted. “Hopefully we’re both still employed by the time we actually get to the part where we tie the knot.”

For as much as she wanted to blame the detective skills of Manhattan SVU for the fact that it had been getting more and more difficult to hide the nature of their relationship from the squad — and for as much as that was partially to blame — she knew she hadn’t been doing herself any favors either. Half the time she’d go out of her way to avoid him when he’d come into the precinct, and the other half she’d be so tense that she could feel it in her shoulders.

It hadn’t exactly dawned on her until Olivia had pulled her aside one day to ask if they were okay…if they’d had some kind of falling out because — according to the Captain — they’d been standoffish around one another. She could only hope her own shock in response to the observation wasn’t evident enough to seem suspicious.

“You’re borrowin’ trouble again,” he pointed out in response to the offhanded comment.

“So I take it you’re ready to convince Hadid that marrying one of the detectives you work with somehow doesn’t present a conflict of interest?”

“I’m a lawyer, Rollins. Convincing is kinda what I do.” He paused, cupping her face gently between his hands to look her in the eyes. “Don’t worry about it, alright? We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. And either way…it’s all gonna work out.”

She knew he had absolutely no way of knowing that for sure, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the sincerity in his eyes made her want to believe it.

“You’re right. Gettin’ fired doesn’t sound too bad,” she finally said with a teasing smile, and when he chuckled with a roll of his eyes she nudged him playfully with her elbow. “I could use a vacation.”

When the floor outside of Billie’s bedroom creaked just slightly, Amanda instinctively unwrapped her arms from around him and turned to find Jesse standing in the doorway with a piece of paper in her hands. With a proud smile, the little girl thrust the drawing out to show her mother, and Amanda regarded the crayon-drawn figure with a bright smile.

“It’s Frannie!” The little girl declared, but she seemed to easily lose her focus on the task at hand as she turned her attention to Carisi. “Can we finish the story now?”

“Yeah, of course. C’mon.”

He grunted dramatically when he picked her up, offering a playful comment about how fast she’d been growing, and Amanda couldn’t help but smile at the way her daughter glowed excitedly in response.

The three of them quickly settled back onto the couch. Jesse sat attentively in Carisi’s lap, her eyes glued to the pages of the picture book as he picked up where he had left off, and Amanda leaned against him, nestled affectionately against his side. As he read, she slowly but surely fazed out the words and allowed herself to simply drift into the comfortable familiarity of his voice.

After all of the men who had burned her in the past — those who had left her high and dry or slept around behind her back — she had almost started to believe that there was no point in trying to build a romantic relationship as it would only end in heartbreak. But as she rested her head against the shoulder of the man she was going to marry…her former partner…her best friend…she let herself embrace the fact that she hadn’t let it get that far.

She thought back to the night that he’d asked her to marry him. When Al had proposed, it was out of perceived necessity. He’d wanted to make an “honest woman” out of her. With Carisi, it was different. He didn’t have to marry her. He wanted to.

“I want us to spend the rest of our lives like this, Amanda.”

A small, subconscious smile touched her lips in response to the memory, and when her eyes shifted up to him, watching his eyes skim over the children’s book as Jesse listened and leaned against his shoulder with sleepy eyes, she knew she wanted the same.

She wanted him to be there through everything that life would come to throw at her. She wanted to grow old with him by her side.

She wanted forever with him. And the ring around her finger assured her that he was never going to let her go.

#rollisi #rollisi prompts #svu #i'm genuinely soft over this ask again i don't deserve this kinda kindness <3 #also sorry for the delay this week there's genuinely no excuse #for me i was just being lazy

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rboooks · 5 years

Note

pls i needs more dimensions hoppers au. what happens when they go to Hogwarts? what about the twins deal ? and Will's quest for straight hair?

Based off the wonderful story C’est La Vie by @cywscross. You should all read it!

Orion was brushing his hair, marveling at how silky soft it’s gotten thanks to Will’s maintenance tips when Dad bursts into the room with a loud shout “It’s time to go! Come along Pup,I can’t have my future son-in-law wait too long!”

Dropping the brush, the young werewolf whirl around, face turning a bright red. “Dad! I told you it’s not like that!”

The answering grin he got in return was filled with mischievous glee, curling on his parent’s face in a terrible resemblance of the Grinch when he got a wonderful awful idea. Orion mentally kicked himself for comparing his Dad to the green abomination even if it had been Hadrian’s favorite Christmas movie and he had to watch it twice now.

When Orion told the other boy he had never really seen movies the other took it as a personal challenge to bombard him with all the ones the other owned on VHS. Some had been rather entertaining, and he could see why muggles loved them so, but the Grinch haunted his nightmares.

Not that he would ever let his best friend know. Nope, Orion was a Grif, he had pride thank you.

“Hadrian and I are merely friends,” He says lowering his voice from the high pitch on pure will alone. No need to give Dad more admission then he already had. Marlin knows every time he gets embarrassed his cracks more than usual. Orion cannot wait till this whole puberty thing was over. “Please refrain from calling him things like that. He may get the wrong idea which will make Hogwarts very awkward”

Dad’s eyes dimmed just a bit “Hadrian is a good kid. He won’t stop being your friend the moment you two get to Hogwarts.”

For one terrifying second Orion feels like he may cry but he pushes the burning in his eyes away, stubbornly stomping down on the worry in his chest. “I know.”

He watches his Dad open his mouth but reconsiders whatever he was going to say and closes it again. There is a bit of regretful longing in his gaze as he shakes his head. It must be about Har-Potter. Dad only gets like that when he thinks about what he and Uncle James used to have.

Sometimes Orion resents the fact his parents are still friendly with the Potters. Resents it so much it burns. How could they stand aside and smile when their son suffered so much around his bully? How can they invite the Potters over for tea while the youngest Potter made snib remarks of not wanting something prepared by a werewolf? How could they stand to watch the way Har-Potter make Father hunches his shoulders in shame?

How could they sit there, acting like nothing was wrong, while the person they invited into their home discriminated against them?

Orion had no intention of being friendly.

He didn’t need to anymore, he had Hadrian now. Oh, he would be civil, would show Uncle James and Aunt Lily respect as Father would never allow anything otherwise but he will be distant. He will make it clear that they stand over there and he stands over here.

Like he has done before. Like every time he walked Hogwarts halls and his classmates always seem to stand together while he watched in the far distance cripply lonely.

But this time someone will stand with you an encouraging voice says in his head which sounds an awful lot like Will. You’re not alone anymore

It’s Dad’s answering smile that informs Orion his grinning like a loon. He tries to smooth out his face even though he knows it’s a wasted effort. “So, um are we leaving or-?”

“Yes, yes,” Dad says perking up. “Your father is just packing you and Hadrian a meal for the train then we can be on our way. Will flooed just moments ago. He’s going to meet us at the station.”

Orion nods, picking up the dropped brush and adding it to his trunk. His eyes catch his house robes. For a moment he worries Hadrian will be sorted in a different house but disregarded the fear.

His friend is one of the bravest people he’s ever met. Only twelve and already unwilling to bend to anyone’s command (except maybe Will’s. Hadrian seems unable to disappoint his brother. But then again, almost everyone is. Will is someone you just feel terrible about letting down.)

When customers become unreasonable Orion always gets weary, unsure in how to handle the situation but not Hadrian. He had no qualms with throwing people out. Sometimes even did the physical removal of them himself. It was amazing to watch.

Surely, Hadrian will be in Gryffindor. And they would be living together. Orion felt his face heat up as he imagines what it is like to live with Hadrian. He would be able to tell him goodnight and have pillow fights and study nights and he would get to see Hadrian hair in the mornings. Right after he rolls out of bed, sticking up in the back like always and he just knows it be adorable-

“Orion? Are you ready?” Father asks from the door.

“Oh, he’s ready. Been standing there for a while smiling in excitement at the thought of his second year.” Dad answers for him.

The werewolf jumps horrified that he forgot about his Dad. He peaks up at his parents and flushes a dark red when he sees the knowing look they trade. Dad is making that Grinch-smile again. “Remember when we were second years? Takes me back to those days of young love”

“Dad!” Dang it, his voice cracked again.

An hour later Orion is kneeling on the cushions of the Hogwarts Express seats poking his head out the top half of the window. He keeps glancing around the crowd but he can’t spot the Evans anywhere. Why weren’t they here yet? What if Hadrian didn’t arrive? The train was to leave in only two minutes!

He is already inside, having picked the last compartment as far away from Potter’s group as possible. It also happens to be by the last door so boarding and un-boarding will be quick meaning they can avoid the crowd when they get to Hogwarts. Something Hadrian will appreciate….if he gets here.

The train horn goes off, signaling departure and his stomach drops.

Father looks just as worried as he feels. “ Do you think they don’t know how to find the platform? The Evans have never been to Hogwarts before.”

“Yes. I explain it to Will this morning in the Floo” Despite how he doesn’t try to show it Dad looks unsure himself “I should have told them to come with us. At this rate, Hadrian will miss the train! Perhaps I should go look for them-”

“Please excuse us! We are very late! Pardon me, I need to get through!” Will’s voice breaks through the noise of parents tearfully saying goodbye to their children. He sounds polite but he’s elbowing anyone out of his way who isn’t fast enough, dragging a trunk and running like the hell hounds are after him.

Hadrian is one step behind, gently offering his own pardons, following the path his brother carved through the crowd. Orion doesn’t break into a large smile like he wants to- here in public he feels uncomfortable showing too much emotion- but he does wave his hand.

He doesn’t worry about grabbing the Evans attention since Dad gladly does it for him. “You two are late!”

“Sorry, sorry” Will gasps coming to a stop before them. His hair for once looks absolutely fabulous. It’s all volume and fashionably tousled, curling around his head like a halo. It seems Will had finally given up on straight hair and had embraced reality, making something wonderful of it. “It was all my fault. I was trying to get a natural wavy look but I-”

“You took too long in the bathroom!” Hadrian complains. He isn’t out of breath but his face is flushed from the run. Orion knows that means the two had been running for a long while. It takes a lot to make the brothers tired. “I told you not to try steaming it but did you listen? No.”

“Nevermind that! Get on! Quickly!” Father ushers the youngest Evans just as the train jerks starting to inch forward. Orion watches in some kind of fascinated horror as the man who practically embodies the concept of Big Brother boldly chucks Hadrian’s trunk onto the train stairs and in the same motion picks up Hadrian.

The train is moving quickly now, but the intent of the eldest is obvious. He’s running alongside the train, people jumping out of the way. Father’s eyes widen, while Dad’s smile falters and Hadrian screams as Will launches the boy into the air. “GRAB THE RAILING!”

Orion nearly throws himself out the window hands desperately reaching outwards even though he knows he won’t be able to help Hadrian. The boy lands on his feet, thankfully on the train, holding onto the stair railing with an angry snort. “Will!”

“I love you! Have a wonderful year! Remember to write, study hard and no boyfriends or girlfriends until your fourth year!” Will yells back seemingly to not be worried by the venom in Hadrian’s glare as the train leaves the station. Will waves making sure to lock eyes with Orion, his smile warm filled with brotherly adoration. “If you need anything from the store, Owl me! Bye boys! Have a good time! I love you!”

Hadrian huffs, grabbing his trunk before it rolls off and jerks the train car door with it until he is in.

Orion barely resettles into his seat before the door to the compartment is open by a frizzled Hadrian. He walks into the room slumping onto the couch opposite of him, leaving his trunk on the floor. He tries not to laugh he really does, but the expression on his best friend’s face is too much and he bursts into breathless laughter.

Soon pearls of laughter join his. They stay like for who knows how long until Orion can’t breathe. “He threw you onto a moving train!”

“I know, I was there” Hadrian sounds put out upon but his smile is happy. “Good way to start the year I reckon.”

“If one is interested in barbaric displays I believe it would be considered a good start” A new voice has Orion freezing up. He shuts himself behind all the walls his built turning cool eyes to the doorway. He almost lets his mask fall in surprise as he finds himself staring at Draco Malfoy.

What was he doing here? The heir never left the front of the train, as it was where the “first class” students sat.

Hadrian, however, doesn’t seem started. But then again he never does. “Hi, Draco. How are you?”

“Very well Evans. And you?”

“I told you to call me Hadrian”

“I told you that won’t happen.”

Hey, hey, hey why was the blond acting so friendly with Orion’s best friend? “You two know each other?”

Hadrian waves a hand inviting Malfoy to take a sit by Pureblood customs. The werewolf has always wondered how he seemed to know those, using them subconsciously at the oddest of times. “When we first open, he was our first sale. Turns out we’re the only ones that sell the French Team Quidditch merchandise in Diagon Alley. He came in as soon as he saw them through our front window.”

“You simply have good taste,” Malfoy said with great dignity acting as if though he wasn’t twirling the ring on his finger. Orion recognized it as snitch design rings he stocked in the Quidditch aisle three days ago. They were a real sealer. “Someone in that place has to, I suppose”

“I suppose” Hadrian agreed easily, amusement in his voice. “How was France by the way?”

“Wonderful. It was a great vacation the likes of which I’m sure you are not used to. Father even bought me the lastest broom while I was there.” Malfoy brags turning his nose upwards like the proud little Slytherin he is. Orion can’t fight the urge to roll his eyes.

“I’m glad you had fun with your dad then.” The werewolf is about to grimace in annoyance that Hadrian is being nice to the snake but he watches with small amounts of astonishment as the pureblood’s face softens. It’s not by much but in the world of upper-class wizardly politics, it’s the equivalent of beaming.

“Thank you, Evans. Perhaps next time you can come along.”

“Hadrian” His friend corrects. He looks at the blond sitting at his side with a bemused smile then he waves a hand at the other male in the cart. “This is Orion Black by the way. Orion, this is Draco Malfoy”

“We’ve meet,” Malfoy says suddenly coldly. The wolf in Orion sneers. “I take it you are the one Evans mention in the letters? Judging by your face you seem unaware Evans and I were owling this summer.”

Why did the bastard sound so smug? “I wasn’t. I was too busy working alongside him instead.”

“Ugh, guys?” Hadrian looks back and forth between them looking confused by the sudden tension. Orion himself is confused by it too but he’s too caught up in the moment to really care.

“I see.” Malfoy frowns for only a split second before his face smooths out. He gently touches Hadrian’s arm as he stands “I shall be returning now to my cart but if you wish to join me later you may. It best to meet with those that will be in your house soon and I am more than willing to explain any questions you no doubt may have. I am, after all, the most suited.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, Draco,” Hadrian says a little wary still unsure of what just transferred. Not Orion. He knows what that was. It was a challenge. “If I need anything I’ll look for you.”

With a nod, the Malfoy gracefully leaves, back straight and head held high. Orion silently adds him to his mental hate list right under Potter as Hadrian watches him go. It’s not till the other second year has crossed train cars that Hadrian leans back into his seat, sliding the door close.

“That was odd. He’s not usually like that.” Hadrian mumbles “It’s almost like the first time…”

Orion’s jaw tightens. There is an odd nasty burning in his chest. “Why does he think you’ll be a Slytherin?”

Hadrian wasn’t…hoping to be in the snake house, was he?

“I honestly don’t know. Draco’s just been saying that for months now.”

“You’ve known him longer than me” It’s not a question.

“I met him a month before you actually. He just went to spend the summer in France a week before you and Remus came to the shop.” Hadrian’s eyes have a weird emotion in them, the kind that says grief but also hope. “Turns out he’s really easy to get along with if you listen to watch he means instead of the words he uses to express himself with.”

What the heck did that mean? “What house do you want to be in?”

It’s a testament to their friendship that Hadrian doesn’t even bat an eye at the nearly desperate question as he shrugs “Whichever one will have me I guess. I know your family was in Gryffindor but Draco’s in Slytherin and he seems alright. I’m sure Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff will be nice too.”

“Yeah,” Orion says feeling restless “Yeah I’m sure they are.”

The rest of the train ride went on. Both boys ate the lunch his father packed- some beef ravioli for Orion and salad for Hadrian- laughing and joking for hours on end but Orion couldn’t shake the feeling he wasn’t going to be able to see Hadrian bed hair like he hoped-er thought.

He was proven right when the sorting hat shouted for the world to hear “HUFFLEPUFF” after being on Hadrian’s head for seven minutes. He bites back the disappointment, clapping along with the crowd as his friend gracefull walks to the table of yellow and black.

He is quickly greeted by Cedric Diggory who is a tad too friendly with the way he leans into Hadrian’s space. He doesn’t seem to notice the boy’s dislike of him yet, obviously too used to people falling for his charm.

His eyes flickered over the Slytherin and he locked gazes with Malfoy. No doubt he noticed the same thing he did. Orion is surprised by the nod he receives, returning it automatically. It feels like the acknowledgment of a warrior across battlefields allying together to bring down a bigger opponent.

It humbles him.

Gently he removes Malfoy from the hate list because Hadrian had been right. He’s not really all that bad it seems.

The next morning Hadrian casually sits before him at the Gryffindor table acting like he doesn’t notice the stares he’s getting for doing so and Orion allows himself one small smile.

Why did he think anything would change when they got to Hogwarts? Hadrian Evans was far too good for that silly nonsense.

164 notes · View notes

vadaschiquita · 5 years

Text

Chiquita | Ch. 4

Chapter 3

How had she ended up here? What exactly had been the sequence of events that had led to this moment? If she could go back in time and forewarn her past self into making sure this didn’t happen, she would.

She grunted to the air, tightening her coat jacket around her torso. Who had advised her to walk instead of accepting the ride he had offered in the first place? No. She was already in dangerous waters after so easily and freely agreeing to the mother’s proposition without inhibition, care, or thought. She had just said yes. Plain and simple.

It all started when she sent out her reading list to those who were struggling a little bit with their reading material. Sofía had been one of them. She knew how to read and when she would put her mind to it, she would read beautifully, but when it came to speed and literary accuracy, she would fumble just a little bit. Mariana hadn’t meant for neither of her students to felt singled out, but she wanted all of them to pass on to the second grade without their teacher correcting them after every other word.

She had sent out letters to the parents of the few students, asking them to read with them, ask questions, and at whatever opportunity they had, to allow for them to read. Whether it was subtitles of their favorite show, a billboard with a lengthy message, the menu at their favorite restaurant, or an abandoned magazine at the doctor’s office, they needed to be reading more. The next morning, Sofía had given her the messages notebook she’d asked the students to carry and in it was a letter from Valentina Ramirez. She had asked for a meeting later on in the week and not knowing what about, Mariana had agreed.

Now here she was, on her way to Valentina’s apartment to tutor Sofía with her reading. The Christmas break had just started and she was to be there twice a week for two hours, attempting to get some extra time with the girl.

She sighed when she finally reached the building door. She pushed it open and shivered, her body thanking her for finally awarding it with some warmth. The walk to the building hadn’t been half as bad as she thought; it was the cold that had made it unbearable. She stuck her hand in her coat pocket, pulling out a piece of paper with an address scribbled on it, Apt 7G. She stuck the piece of paper inside once more and walked towards the elevator.

In the main foyer of the building were two guys, murmuring to their selves, but she paid them no mind. They were probably tenants, no biggie. She stepped inside the elevator, riding up to the seventh floor. She stepped out into the hallway, following the letters to the right as they ascended into the alphabet. Outside of 7G were three more men and she stopped in her tracks. This wasn’t Valentina’s apartment; this was Nevada’s home.

She clicked her tongue and sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes as one of the guys smirked at her. She raised her brows and shook her head with attitude, when the shortest of the three knocked on the door. She heard Nevada shout from the inside and he opened the door, signaling with his eyes for her to enter. She scoffed, sidestepping one of the men in her way.

She crossed the threshold and walked down the entrance hall into a beautifully decorated foyer that opened into the dining and living room. To her right it was the kitchen, in a beautiful color scheme of a pale, dusty blue, and white.

She sighed, when she saw him strut through the open area. Does he always dress in all black? She sized him up, watching him strut towards her, “What am I doing here, Nevada?”

He snorted, walking past her to reach his kitchen, “You’re here to tutor my princesa.”

“Yea, I thought I was doing that in herhome, not yours.”

“Does it matter where you are?”

Mariana sighed, “To me it does.”

Nevada had his back turned, sifting through his cabinets for whatever he was looking for, “You want a drink?”

Mariana scratched her brow, “Wasn’t it you that said something about giving their back when you’re speaking to someone?”

Nevada chuckled, nodding slightly, “So, is that a yes?”

She sighed, removing her coat and placing it on the white leather bench in the foyer area. She ripped her beanie off her head, running a hand through her tussled mane, and pressing her fingers to her scalp to ease the dull ache that had begun forming, “Yea, sure. Whatever.”

She hugged her torso, flexing her jaw to avoid her from lashing out at the man when the door opened and down came the running feet of Sofía. Once the hallway opened into the open area where Mariana stood, Nevada turned with a scowl, reaching the end of the kitchen in two quick strides.

“Princesa, what have I told you about running?” he said sharply, causing Mariana to wince.

The girl looked down at her shoes, “Sorry, tío. Mami said we were late.”

Nevada hummed, easing his expression when he patted his cheek with his forefinger, bending forward so that the girl could press her small lips to his bearded jaw. Sofía giggled and turned to her teacher, sitting on the floor to remove her shoes.

“All right, Sofía. I brought some reading material and some reading comprehension sheets as well. Did you work on the sheets I gave you before school ended?”

The girl nodded, running a hand down her cheek to rid of any hair stuck to her face, “Yes. Tío asked since when do teachers give homework for Christmas.”

“¡Oye!” Nevada hissed from the kitchen.

Mariana lifted her gaze to Nevada’s, “So, Sofía, dinner table?”

The girl had stood and removed her backpack, shaking her head, “No, dinner table is for business talking and special dinners; homework on the coffee table.”

Mariana nodded bashfully, turning on her heel when Sofía tugged on her hand, signaling for her shoes. She looked up, watching Nevada bite his lip and chuckle. She shook her head, beginning to toe off her boots.

She and Sofía sat near the coffee table of Nevada’s beautifully lit living room. For a man with such a filthy job, an equally filthy mouth, and just a knack for filth in general, he kept a pretty spotless home. She was in awe. He had brought her coffee and she had quirked an eyebrow, thinking that when he offered her a drink he had meant something in the alcoholic scale. She narrowed her eyes at his back, bringing the mug to her lips to taste the warm liquid.

He had retired to his room to come out a few moments later dressed and with a deep frown on his forehead. He sauntered to the door, allowing his men to file in. They rounded the table, some sitting, and some standing. As she worked with Sofía, helping with the worksheet in front of her, the men go rowdier and rowdier. Alternating from English to Spanish and back again.

Sales.

Product.

Warehouses.

Girls.

Corners.

Never once utilizing their inside voices when discussing whatever it was they were discussing just a few feet away from a six year old.

Mariana rubbed her temples, rolling her eyes, and gaining a stifled giggle from Sofía. How exactly was she supposed to concentrate on helping his niece if he kept banging the wooden table and shouting out profanities? She shook her head, resting her forehead on her hand when she groaned.

“Miss Santos?” Mariana hummed. “May I go to the bathroom?”

Mariana snickered, dropping her hand to the coffee table, “Sofía, you don’t have to ask. This is your house.”

The girl smiled, “Well, you are my teacher still.”

Mariana rolled her eyes playfully, “Yes, sweetheart, go ahead.”

Mariana watched as the girl made a run to the restroom, “Que camines, ¡coño!”

“Sorry!” Sofía shouted over her shoulder, easing down to a trot.

Mariana and Nevada locked eyes and he smirked, sending a wink her way. She scoffed, rolling her eyes, and adjusting her legs to shift her position on the floor. Once Sofía returned, they resumed with the tutoring, and it was as if Nevada being there with his men had only exacerbated Mariana’s patience.

She could deal with rowdy kids, talking loudly, and over each other, but when it came to grown men, her patience had been running thin. She ran her fingers through her hair, growling, “Hey!” The sudden silence that ran through the apartment was bone chilling, “Would it kill you to whisper?”

Nevada pressed his lips together, his jaw muscles making a show of the sudden anger flaring. His men looked between Mariana and him, waiting for Nevada’s reaction. He wrapped his hand around his glass tumbler, “Pucho, we’ll finish this tonight. No quiero a nadie en el pasillo.”

The guy he addressed stood—smirking towards Mariana—and when he turned, they all got up and followed him out. Nevada waited until the door had shut and then waited several beats more before he stood.

Suddenly Mariana realized what she had done. What she had said and to whom she had addressed in such an out of character manner, “N—Nevada, I—I’m so sorry.”

“Princesa, go to your room,” he calmly spoke to Sofía. The girl stood and started to run when she caught the green of her uncle’s eyes.

Mariana shivered at the fire behind his glare. She knew she had fucked up. Why did I ever agree to this, she thought nervously, “I’m so sorry, Nevada. I never meant to d—”

“You’re still talking,” he said, standing a few inches away from the coffee table, right in between the gap the sofa and the chaise sectional created.

She sighed, pushing herself up with the help of the coffee table, “I—I’ll go.”

She fidgeted with her thumbs and Nevada couldn’t help but find the action completely endearing. The last thing he wanted was for her to be scared into submission, yet he couldn’t help in finding her adorable. He had no doubt she was a complete badass.

How could she not be one? She was here. Hiding from her ex and still standing up to him. She tried to keep up with the façade, but he knew that she was a little bit intrigued by him. It was his job. He knew; even when she tried so hard to make him believe the opposite.

Strong women. Real strong women had always been Nevada’s downfall, but in the end, his need to keep up with what was expected of him had been too much for them and they had not been able to weather the storm that was Trujillo and his business.

He could feel the difference in her. She was not a coward; it was why she was standing here in front of him. True, she had her head bowed to him, but that was not in submission he realized, that was out of… respect? He smiled his half smile, taking a step forward when he saw her socked feet twitch. She was holding her ground, firmly.

“Chiquita,” he said in his silk-like voice. She tipped her chin, looking at him through her lashes when she noticed he was mere centimeters from her. He grabbed her chin, feeling her urge to snap her head from his grasp, “If you wanted quiet, all you had to do was ask.”

Her fingers relaxed at her sides, her fists releasing her thumbs when she crossed her arms. She raised her brows and he grinned, “Would that had really worked?”

She was looking straight at him, straight through him, and he had to take a step back before she could feel his thumping heart, “Still leaving?” he asked instead.

She cleared her throat and lowered her arms, “Y—Yea, I think that’s wise. I’ll just—”

“Leave that, Sofía will clean up her mess.”

She didn’t argue and turned, taking a quick step towards her boots. Nevada hummed as he admired her backside. Leave it to him to respect you as an individual yet still find a way to deprecate you. She smirked, thankful that her back was to him. She knelt, placing a knee to the ground and leaning over her bended knee to tie her boots. She repeated the motion on the opposite leg, giving a small moan when her knees complained, as she stood straight.

“Miguel will take you home.”

She turned, adjusting her coat, “Nevada—”

“Still talking,” he sat on his couch, lifting his legs to the coffee table. “That wasn’t a request.”

Mariana scoffed, her anger returning in full force, “I’m not one of your… whores! You don’t tell me what I can and cannot do.”

Nevada dropped his legs, leaning forward to the cigar box at the edge of the table. He opened it, fishing a crafted cigar out, and running his long fingers down its shape. He turned his head over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at her, “I just did.”

As quickly as she had dropped her jaw, he had turned and avoided her presence. He had leaned back and propped his feet back up on the coffee table. She seethed, glaring furiously at the side of his head. Not that he could see, but she stood rooted to her spot.

How dare he!

She scoffed once more and turned, stomping out of the apartment, and when she reached outside she thought of shutting the door properly, bringing it gently to a stop, instead she opted for when her mother worked her nerves as a teenager, slamming it shut, making it rattle on its jamb. She snickered, traveling down the elevator. When it opened she looked at Nevada’s men, all sporting amused grins. She rolled her eyes and stepped out of the metal contraption, walking towards the main door.

She turned, “Which one of you is Miguel?”

Miguel and the man named Pucho stepped forward. Miguel nodded at Mariana and started towards the door. Mariana quirked an eyebrow, she didn’t need two men driving her anywhere. She really didn’t want none of them driving her home, but she knew that the latter would be walking home in the cold and still have them follow her in the car a couple of steps behind whilst still being in the car.

“Whoa,”—she held up her hands in front the men—“Pucho, right? Nevada needs you.”

The man quirked an eyebrow and looked at Miguel, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Pucho turned, winking at Mariana as he pressed the button to the elevator. Pucho didn’t take long before he was entering Nevada’s home, calling out for him. The squeals died on Sofía’s lips when Nevada noticed him there.

“The hell are you doing here?”

Pucho opened and closed his mouth, doing a half turn, “She said you needed me.”

Nevada smirked, “I don’t.”

***

“That was really good, Sofía!” Mariana praised the girl. “You’ve been practicing, I see.”

Sofía nodded, shifting on her bottom, “Tío made me read a bunch of letters for him.”

Mariana looked up, glancing at the dinner table where Nevada sat with Pucho and a man in a suit, “Did he?”

Mariana missed the girl’s answer, as she was too busy gawking at Nevada. He was sat on the same chair he had been the last time she had been there. He only wore his black undershirt, and how the shirt hugged his biceps had Mariana completely unfocused.

They had been speaking loudly—again—and Mariana just looked up, banged her elbow against the coffee table, and Nevada was quick to understand, smirking as he told Pucho and the man in the suit to shut the fuck up.

He knew he was being watched and he reveled in the feel of it. Mariana had been watching him ever since she walked in through the door. She had been busy removing her boots, but when she heard him walk in, she turned, colliding with a bare-chested Nevada. His upper body was sturdy and warm. Her fingers were fanned across beautiful tanned flesh covered in dark hair and Mariana didn’t know what to do with the body in front of her.

His hands had found her hips effortlessly, steadying her stumbling body. He could feel her warm breath against his skin and he reveled in the proximity her body had with his. He could have her in his arms every night for the rest of his life, no ifs, ands, or buts. She felt right, and she fit perfectly tucked underneath his chin. They stood like this: him reveling in the feel of her body pressed against his and her too stunned to move away from his warm embrace.

Even now, Mariana could feel the warmth that coursed through Nevada’s skin against her front.

How was he so warm?

How was he so strong?

What comfort could those arms bring to her?

She would never know. She wouldn’t ever find out. She had made a promise and though she continuously struggled, she really was trying. Her need and intrigue was winning her out and soon enough, she wasn’t going to be able to once again say ‘no’ to him. His body had felt so good… he had smelled deliciously enticing… his embrace was so warm and welcoming, and as she trailed her gaze from his naked chest down to where the wisps of hair became scarcer and scarcer she could tell that he lacked underwear.

She was startled out of her reverie when Sofía shook her forearm, “What?” she stumbled, looking down at the girl and back up at Nevada whom in turn had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“What is this word?”

“Scurried.”

Sofía scrunched her face up, just like Mariana imagined she did when presented with something she didn’t like, and she giggled, “It sounds like ‘scared’.”

Mariana smiled, “Almost, and that can actually help you remember the word,” the girl knitted her brows and pouted her lips. “People scurry when they’re scared.”

Sofía’s face lit up and she smiled, “Like the street rats!”

Mariana snorted, “Yes, like the street rats.”

She shook her head and allowed for Sofía to continue working on her worksheet. They didn’t have much time left and thankfully, they had used their time accordingly. Sofía was a brilliant kid and she had let her mother know as much. Nevada would roll his eyes, seemingly tired of the praise yet he couldn’t stop the glint in his eyes. He was there, every Tuesday and Thursday with Mariana and his niece. He wanted her close by and since she wouldn’t… acquiesce to a public outing, a private—all right, semi-private—one would do.

Nina was there to pick up her daughter, thanking Mariana in the process. She stood, gathering the colorful pens she had brought for today’s lesson and standing them on the coffee table to align them beautifully.

She stood, tucking her hair behind her ear, “Done?”

She snapped her head up, watching as Nevada slipped a button-up shirt on, “Y—Yes, I’ll be out o—”

“About time! Vamos Pucho, que estamos tarde.”

“¿Tarde?” Mariana asked with a face, “Tarde for what?”

Nevada finished buttoning his shirt, leaving the first four undone, and smirked at her, “Avanza,” he said evenly, breezing past her.

Mariana faltered for a few seconds, but was snapped into the now when Nevada whistled at her. He was ushering her on, snapping his fingers, and shouting for her to pick up the pace.

She was… beyond confused to what was happening, but she knew that he wouldn’t allow for questioning. She scrambled to pick up her boots and backpack, hugging everything to her front as she nearly struggled to keep up with Nevada’s fast pace.

She shot a glance behind her, where Pucho and the man in the suit walked in unison. What was the rush? Where were they going? Why was Pucho not running to be behind Nevada?

The elevator opened its doors and he sauntered in, sighing in exasperation when he noticed she weren’t there, “Chiquita!”

“Stop calling me that,” she mumbled, catching her breath as the elevator doors squeezed her shoulders and jostled open once again.

He snickered, placing his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, and leaning against the elevator wall. Mariana took this time to slip her boots on; it was obvious for her that Nevada waited for no one.

Clearly!

Pucho and the suited man were nowhere to be found in that small elevator, yet she had no doubt that Pucho would make it before Nevada and her downstairs if he knew what was good for him.

The elevator dinged and jolted as it came to a stop on the first floor. When it opened, Pucho was leaning against the opposite wall, looking down at his phone. Nevada stepped out and then followed Mariana with a quick step of her feet. On the curb were three SUVs lined, the men patiently waiting on the inside.

Nevada opened the back door to the middle SUV and he waited. Mariana raised her brows, nonplussed by the action. Nevada smacked his teeth, reaching for her forearm and pulling her towards the backseat, “Móntate, chica que estamos tarde.”

Mariana managed her calf-like legs and eased on the back seat, scuttling across the seat when Nevada pushed on her shoulder. The door closed behind Nevada and then Pucho was sitting on the passenger side, telling Miguel an address.

It dawned on Mariana that he already knew where she lived, but that was not her address, “Nev—”

“Tranquilita que we’re just making a pit stop,” he said without turning to look at her. She huffed, slamming her back against the seat, “Eh, ¿qué pasa?”

Mariana clicked her tongue loudly, crossing her arms over her stomach. Nevada turned to regard her, and if she didn’t look like such a petulant child he would’ve told Miguel to drop her off first, but as punishment—and to get what he wanted—he would make her sit there and wait until he was done with what he needed to do. He bit his lip, eyeing the pout of her plump lips, the way she would flex her fingers, and the small indentation her cheek had made as she chewed on the inside of her mouth.

She was livid, beyond pissed at this point, but Nevada couldn’t help but chuckle. He was enjoying this, how could he not?

They arrived at a warehouse fairly quickly and Mariana shifted on her seat, uncrossing her leg and unfolding her arms. She saw as Miguel handed Pucho a gun that he stashed in the glove compartment and she raised her brow. What the hell was Nevada doing?

“Nevada,” she leaned forward, turning her head to give him a concerning look. His eyes were shielded by the darkness of his shades.

“Ten minutes,” he said before Pucho opened his door.

“Wait, I—” her words died on her lips when the door closed behind Nevada’s back. “I don’t want to be here.”

She growled in frustration, slumping back against the seat as her hand ran through her hair.

This is why she preferred walking to being escorted by Nevada and his men.

This is why Jess had warned her to stay away from him.

This is why she had been hesitant in the first place.

She’d had enough danger in her life to smell it from a mile away yet she found herself in awkward positions and inexplicable predicaments ever since she met Nevada Ramirez.

She sighed, there wasn’t anything she could do now, could she? No. All she had to do now was wait for Nevada to saunter back out like he had promised—ten minutes.

She sent a prayer above, this wasn’t how she should die. Not after surviving the fists of her ex-boyfriend, being on an impromptu ride along was notthe way she was to go.

Two minutes went by. Five minutes after that. Almost nearing the ten-minute mark when two of his men came out of the warehouse and got in the two other SUVs across the street and drove away. Her stomach sunk. This wasn’t right. This didn’t feel right.

Nevada always had a handful of men with him at all times posted anywhere and everywhere. You couldn’t have known where they were if Nevada himself told you where they were, so them walking out of the warehouse without the rest of the gang or Nevada at sight definitely made her uncomfortable.

She bit her lip, bouncing her leg as she thought of a plan. If this were an ambush, Nevada wouldn’t have known and as much as she didn’t care for the guy, the principal here is what mattered. Those two had betrayed him.

She could’ve gone. Opened the door with her belongings and walked away, but Nevada would find her, where would she go? She could hide for a little bit, but what would happen when Tuesday came again? No, that was a temporary solution—an ineffective temporary solution at that. Mariana sighed and closed her eyes, there was one other solution: go in there and break Nevada free of this mess.

She stood, leaning over the center console to reach the glove compartment. As she pulled on the lever, the door gave and there it was, staring back at her. She grabbed the handgun and stashed it between it her jeans and back, sitting down to slide down the opposite side and open the door. She had no chance to wear her coat before leaving Nevada’s and she had no chance to do so now. Her long-sleeve turtleneck would have to do now.

She crossed the street, making sure no one was out and watching her approach the building. She found her way inside, weaving through old car parts, boxes, cars, guns? She could feel her thumping heart slam against her ribcage; she needed to get ahold of herself if she wanted to make it out of here alive.

She heard it then, the sharpness of the voices, the screaming in Spanish and… Italian? What the hell was going on?

She looked through the door’s small glass window, watching a man pointing a small revolver right between Nevada’s brows. He smirked first, letting his smirk deepen into a smile, taunting the yelling man in front of him. He was poised; a hand around a glass filled with wine, his other arm perched over the back of his chair. His gold chain glimmered with the light and from where she stood; she could see his chest hair peek above the collar of his t-shirt and dress shirt.

Focus! She scolded her, now was notthe time to be pining over Nevada. Now or any other time!

Mariana backed away from the door, pulling the gun from behind her. She released the magazine, feeling it fall into her opposite hand: loaded. She slid it back and felt it lock in place. She eyed for the safety, making sure it was in place. The last thing she needed was a tragedy happening all because she wanted to play hero.

She closed her eyes, remembering her training, and steadying her breathing. She slid the gun between her jeans and her skin, tugging at her shirt so that it could cover it, and she pushed the door open, schooling her features to effectively convey what she wanted.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Chiquita.”

Mariana eyed the men in the room, all pointing a gun at another. She could tell who were Nevada’s men and who was not by what they wore, and of course, she knew them by now. Not by name, but by face.

“I want to go home, Nevada. Now!”

Nevada narrowed his stare at her, attempting to figure out what exactly was her game plan here, “Mami, I’m kind of tied up here,” he smiled wryly.

“Who are you?” the man pointing the gun at Nevada spoke.

Mariana glared at the man, turning her eyes to Nevada again, “You said ten minutes.”

Nevada sighed, “Well, Jimmy here had other plans, Chiquita. What do you want me to do?”

“To fucking take me home,” she sneered, watching as Nevada tried his best to not lose control.

“Hey, doll, we’re in the middle of something here. Why don’t you, uh, go back to where it is you crawled out of, and I’m sure one of my men can take care of… whatever it is he’s paying you,” Jimmy said and Mariana could hear the mock drip from his voice.

Her eyes were trained on Nevada’s green ones and she knew then that whatever this was, it was not going to end up with her or Nevada walking off into the distance. Someone had to relinquish power and from the looks of it, Nevada wasn’t it. She needed to shift the power dynamic here. Nevada wasthe one sitting with a gun trained to his face.

“Hey, doll!”

Mariana rolled her eyes, folding her right arm behind her back and pulling the gun out of her jeans. She pointed it at Jimmy, “Call me doll one more time and it’ll be you in a pretty display box.”

Nevada stood in haste, smiling wryly with arms up in defense, “Mari,” he said tentatively.

Mariana’s eyes shifted to Nevada’s and back to Jimmy’s, “Uh, uh… sweetheart, are you sure you know what you’re doing there?”

Mariana half-cocked her head, lowering her arm, and eyeing the piece with scrutiny. She rotated her wrist for dramatic effect, shrugging in the process. She cleared her throat, utilizing her thumb to ease off the security, and cocking the barrel with her opposite hand. She raised her hand, pointing it directly at Jimmy once more, “Still insulting my intelligence?”

Jimmy scoffed and Nevada took a step a forward, “Chiquita, I’ll take you home, just hand me the gun.”

Nevada continued to take steps forward, eyeing her closely, “Listen to your thug… doll,” Jimmy quirked his lip, causing Nevada to stop in his tracks.

He looked in her eyes, watching the fire and annoyance burn bright, but he saw her hesitance as well. He shifted his eyes to above her shoulder, watching as Pucho locked eyes with him momentarily, he tipped his chin slightly, dropping his hands by his side. Within seconds the commotion that had broken out had damn neared given whiplash to Mariana.

Nevada’s fist had connected with Jimmy Mucci’s temple, sending all of the men into a fight. Everything spun around and suddenly Mariana had been swept up, nearly dragged out of the room by a pair of strong hands. Shots rung out, men cried out in pain, bodies thumped on the ground, and there was no sight of Nevada as they whisked her out of the warehouse. Her hand had gone limp, was she still holding the gun?

Mariana mewled, feeling pressure across her abdomen, “What the fuck?” growled one of the men.

She was thrown back into Nevada’s SUV when Miguel and Pucho revved the engine. Mariana was still in a daze yet she couldn’t place the dull ache on her stomach, it was only when she tried to breathe deeply that everything clicked. Someone’s elbow had connected with her stomach and had sent her tumbling to the ground. She coughed, heaving deeply in a struggle to catch her breath.

Pucho looked back at her, “Deep breaths, mamasita. It’s gonna hurt, but deep breaths.”

Mariana did as bidden and Pucho had been right, it hurt like hell, but it worked. Her coughs eased and her watery eyes seemed to focus on everything surrounding her when Nevada hopped in the SUV.

“¡Dale, dale, dale!” Miguel pressed on the gas pedal, jolting the SUV forward. Nevada was clapping and howling, seemingly amused by the antics and the outcome of the meeting. He shouted boisterously and shook Pucho by his shoulders, “That’s how you fucking do it!” He took a moment to regard Mariana, folded over her self, “Maldita loca, what the hell possessed you to go in all gung-ho in there?”

Mariana struggled to catch her breath and coughed once again. She felt Nevada’s hand between her shoulder blades and she shook him off, using her arm to swat him away, “Don’t fucking touch me,” she seethed, coughing mercilessly in the process.

“Mari—” he moved to touch her arm.

Mariana swatted her arm, landing a blow to Nevada’s chest, “Don’t f—”

Nevada pinched her cheeks with his right hand whilst his left one gripped at her nape, “You and that fucking tone...”

Her breathing was shallow, her eyes speeding across his face. The position felt familiar yet she didn’t feel as degraded and demoralized as she had felt with her ex. He wasn’t doing this to… cheapen her, he was doing this lovingly almost. His grip on her was stern yet soft, just like his grip on her neck.

Mariana whimpered and he eased his hold, “¿Te vas a calmar?” she nodded. Nevada dropped the hand at her face, “I’m going to take you home and you’re going to let me look at your stomach, ¿me entiendes?”

“Sí,” she whispered, lowering her head.

#me #chiquita #chapter 4 #Nevada Ramirez #reader #fanfic #fanfiction #trouble in the heights #trash can #nevada #ramirez #Raul Esparza #nevada x reader #drama #sexy

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