#it was with full intention to immediately adopt him so. not sure where to put that one either | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silversiren1101 · 11 months

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Couples asks for the Hellpair! 1, 28, 32

Sure thing dujour!

1. What, specifically, was the catalyst for their physical attraction (if applicable) to the other character? In other words, what in particular had them like “Oh, they’re…hot…”

Answered this one here! TLDR: Regill was (still is lol) pretty hot pre-Bleaching and Mino was immediately into it. Regill had to get past the double demi barrier and it hits him like a truck after he does.

28. How do they feel about the prospect of parenthood? Do they plan on it? How would they react if they suddenly found out they were going to be a parent?

Haha well, everyone knows I've made them have a kid: their absolutely adored and loved and cherished gnome-ganzi gremlin, Jesyll. Was she planned? Hell no. Still very much wanted? Desperately. The topic of contraception and safe-sex never even popped up between them. Is that irresponsible? Not really because they shouldn't even be biologically compatible in that way. Pregnancy was never a fear (or serious discussion) because a human and a gnome? Shouldn't happen.

Too bad Mino technically isn't human anymore. She's more protean lord than human, and you know what happens when a protean shacks up with a mortal? Ganzi babies.

As for their opinions before the pregnancy happened?

Minovae: Mino I think has very strong nurturing and mothering tendencies, and she absolutely adores kids. I think she's wanted a child in a far-fetched dream kind of way, a deep and pointless yearning. Who would have a kid with her? Would she even have one, as a Hellknight and with all of her duties? Her own childhood was so brutal and cruel and she's terrified of not being able to give a child the rightful love and care and attention they deserve, not wanting them to be subjected to the torture she did. She fulfilled that ache by adopting foundlings at least who were slightly older (8-15 years old), and it made her so very happy and full to look after them and teach them. When she lost them (thanks House Thrune) it destroyed her and she wrote off any future children or adoptees because she wouldn't put them in that kind of danger and knew she wouldn't be able to handle such loss ever again. Even the mongrel children she plays with in Drezen--which she adores and loves to play with!--leave her feeling so guilty and hollow after. Ember is a difficult problem for her in the best kind of way as well. Mino truly loves Ember as her child and hates seeing her enter combat with the rest of them, and is filled with so much rage and sadness over what happened to her.

Honestly, I think a lot of Mino's core beliefs as a Hellknight is based on creating a life where no child will be treated different for who they are, experience war, go hungry or cold... She wants to guide society to a place where her own childhood never would have happened. "We as a people are nothing without our children. They are our future and our hope."

Regill: First off, gnome family structures and reproduction is way different than your typical ancestry. Gnomes are rarely monogamous and rarely marry (settling down and getting content in a relationship? uh oh am I turning pale?), having many partners in life usually. Obviously it does work for some of them! Having your ultimate special someone that makes every day exciting and magical and you don't risk the contentment making you Bleach... I honestly love how it's phrased in their 1e materials: "a gnome relationship is one of intention and choice." When gnomes do have children, it's the same: a conscious and deliberate choice to do so, and often as a "hey having a kid could be pretty exciting, want to do that?" Even then, gnome families are so loosely structured and rarely together that gnome kids are raised communally most of the time, maybe even knowing only their mother. I doubt Regill knew his family in any meaningful way, and being as he is, left it behind when he could.

So as for Regill with kids? I think at most when he was younger he analyzed it maybe one time as a "duty to society" kind of thing and axed it completely once he became a Hellknight. He was doing his part that way. As for his opinion on kids in general? I don't think he dislikes them, and he actually has a lot of patience for them! More patience than he has with most adults. Children often don't know any better and they are learning and growing, and I think he would feel it part of his duty to be a good role model and teacher if around them. To me, he has similar opinions as Mino: the next generation and our children is who we do everything for. What is the point of creating a perfect lawful society if we have no one to reap the benefits of it?

Having children of his own was never an anticipated outcome in his life. He didn't feel strongly enough toward anyone like that. He felt it incredibly irresponsible to have a kid and foist it off on someone else. And, honestly? I think he accepted he'd be a hellish father. There's a big leap between doing right by children around you and actually raising a whole kid the right way.

But, uh oh, they both fall in love and so much changes... and then... Mino gets pregnant.

It takes her an embarrassing amount of time and weeks of morning sickness to realize she is pregnant. It's such an impossibility to her because he is a gnome and she, in her mind, is human. The realization is panic, sheer panic, and crushing fear. This can't be happening. How is this happening. Oh gods what is he going to think? How do I tell him? How do I tell him I want this and I want to keep this baby?! Like they have NEVER talked about this possibility, and suddenly it's happening and she's already a few months along and while if told it was possible beforehand she would've responsibly said no, but this baby is now in her and oh she wants it so badly and has no idea what he will do or think. They're in the middle of a shadow war with House Thrune, she's a demigoddess and he's Lictor of their own Hellknight Order, and she wants so selfishly to have this kid more than anything.

It's a very difficult talk, even just telling him. So much sobbing on her part and tense silence as he listens and thinks on everything. He also has that "if you had asked him before he would've said no way" but it's happening now and he... doesn't hate the idea of a kid. So many internal questions of if he has what it takes, if he is patient and even gentle enough for a kid, if he is capable of loving his own child because gods it took a century to be able to love his now-wife, if it's even morally okay to have a kid with who they are and what's going on and the danger around them... He resolves to try. To him, not having an immediate visceral NO reaction means he does actually want this.

The more she starts to show the more he's absolutely on board and honestly a little overbearing lol! Very much hounding her to get off her feet and rest and eat more and get more sleep and take your supplements and... ultimately he's a much more protective and fretting parent than Mino is once Jesyll arrives lol. Like he's terrriiified holding her the first time like "oh my god who the fuck thought this was a good idea I am not equipped to hold an infant much less RAISE THIS" but she also looks just like him (with some of mom's feathers and scales!) and when she does the lil baby grip around his hand the first time it's like [cateyesdilatingwide.gif]

Mino is of course a very warm and loving mother. She loves her daughter so much she starts singing again, not even realizing she's singing her to sleep that first time. She literally hadn't sang since before she was a Hellknight. Regill has to tell her that she was and she just silently cries, feeling a lot of things all at once.

32. How do their friends react to finding out they’re a couple? Do they have lots of mutual friends? Did their friends know, perhaps before they themselves did?

Pretty much all of them knew Mino had a thing for him in the past. She flatly tells them so after she regains her memories when they ask her how she knew him, feeling so dead inside that she thinks even that is dead too. There's a lot of, "really?" "HIM?!" and all sorts of incredulous questions but ultimately just fades from most everyone into a sort of... sadness for her. Her taste in partner aside, falling for someone that no one believes would love her back? Him being her 'one' to the point that she's closed off to any other potential partners? It's sad, but not in a pity way. Just in a this is a tragedy kind of way... neither of them are wrong in this situation and it's just sad that things aligned this way where neither of them can be happy.

A few are trying to push them together anyway, in a desperate hope there is something in him that will accept her in that way. Daeran is the big one. He tried to court her in the beginning and she was actually along for it until she just felt... she realized she couldn't feel that way for him. Not even remembering who she was yet and her past, she just can't connect with him in that deeper way. Daeran also realized that her heart is taken, and after the pieces fall together of who, he makes it his damned mission to get them together. At first it's kind of the same as a "crackship" in a spiteful way because she rejected him and it'd be funny to see two Hellknights in love, especially Regill's grumpy ass; but he gets into it sincerely as she's destructing and giving so much of herself to this damned Crusade and also helping all of them and genuinely being his friend... he wants her sincerely to be happy and loved, and if he can't do it he's going to do his damned best to get her into her actual love's arms.

Arueshalae is another. She can sense the hurt and yearning like and wound in Mino and while she isn't brave enough to talk to her about it, wants so badly for her to find her happiness. She has a thought like, if she as a demon can ascend and find empathy and kindness and yearn for love, why can't a devil? Regill isn't actually a devil but the point stands, lol. She works a lot behind the scenes trying to get them alone together and make them connect.

Most everyone else believes it's impossible until it actually happens: Regill dies saving her. I explained in this one how he comes to realize he actually loves her (thanks Daeran lol) so by then he fully knows he's so deeply in love with her and needs her. He gives up his life to protect her not out of duty but because he himself realizes he won't survive losing her again anyway. It's not a hard choice to sacrifice himself, and his regret is that he only realized it too late and can't be there for her now. The companions that retrieve his body where he falls finds a few of her feathers gripped tight in his gauntlet as the last thing he was capable of before succumbing. Even more proof, during his resurrection ritual, Sosiel and Arsinoe beseech the Godclaw to restore him... only for Shelyn to answer personally instead. He died for love, and the Eternal Rose deems him worthy of another chance.

It's a major shock to most everyone, but a happy one. There's little room for doubt when the goddess of beauty and love gets involved. Sosiel especially has to reconcile a lot of his flawed understanding of love and its manifestations, but becomes a better Shelynite and man for it. Seelah also has a lot of things to work through with her idea of Evil and Hellknights being "othered" in her mind rather than just fellow mortals - people with living beating hearts capable of change and love.

Their relationship is generally looked upon with relief and like it's something precious. People want to see the Knight Commander happy and cared for after all she's done and gone through, and also them being two Hellknights who are in love? The people eat that shit up from a parasocial/gossipy point.

Questions from this list!

#this got very long again #I just love talking about them #oc: minovae arangeir #regill derenge x minovae arangeir #pair: hellpair #silversirenwrites #wrath of the righteous #ask game

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double-hoe-seven · 3 years

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AFC Richmond as boyfriends

Here’s a lil headcanon collection of our favorite himbos as boyfriends.

I did it again for the staff (: AFC Richmond Staff as partners

A/N: Definitely didn’t put everyone but these were my top ones and it’s 2 AM so imma leave it here.

Sam Obisanya

The absolute sweetest man you have ever met

Such a softie, very concerned about making sure you’re happy and comfortable with whatever choices you make together.

He always picks the most random times to surprise you with things; showing up at your work randomly for lunch or with coffee/tea, random little souvenirs from his away games.

He’s always putting himself second and sometimes you have to remind him “hey, babe, you can do things for yourself, you deserve nice things too.”

Just, compliments galore with him. He’ll always find a way to compliment you on something.

The most cuddly person ever, he loves public affection (hand holding, piggy backing, hugging, kissing if it’s not raunchy, etc), he really just likes showing you off because he feels like the luckiest man in the world to have you.

He takes his time with your relationship, letting it bloom and grow at it’s own pace.

There aren’t many fights between you, hardly ever, the last “fight” you had was because you couldn’t unanimously decide which dog to rescue. The solution? You adopted both, now you share a one-eyed Jack Russell Terrier named Starro and a three legged German Shepherd puppy named Harry (Pawter. He was so proud at his pun when he showed you the then 3-month old puppy.)

Again, just the sweetest, more romantic man you’ve ever met and ever will meet.

thesexisgoodtoo. hesaverygentleandgivinglover

Isaac McAdoo

Man’s stubborn.

I mean it, he is as stubborn as a mule.

I’M DEAD SERIOUS, he once pouted for 5 days when you accidentally ate the last Rolo in the flat.

But he’s also romantic in a sort of rugged way?

He won’t go shopping with you but he knows what colors look best on you, he knows what styles look good on you, and he has your sizes and shades memorized.

Bear.

Mr. sometimes-crank-teddy-bear over here.

He’ll say he doesn’t want something but he will eat half of your food if given the chance. If you step away from your food to get a drink or something, there will be a good part mission when you get back.

Its a tradition to go on a date the morning of a game, and snuggle up with a movie after the game.

You have had more than a few drunk texts from him, all of them equally funny and full of sexual innuendos.

You don’t address his Rolo addiction. It could be something much worse anyway.

Richard Montlaur

So many visits to the goat farm he was raised on!

He really has to drag you back to London after visiting his parents because you don’t want to leave all the precious goats (and you and his parents get along famously).

You spend alternating holidays with each others families (except for Bastille day, you always spend that either together or with his family.)

There are always roses in your shared flat.

It’s a constant battle over his facial hair.

He has a grudge against the way the English make French pastries.

He has a habit of falling asleep on the couch or in uncomfortable positions and then wondering why his back or neck hurts.

Little spoon.

He’s teaching you French.

This man is a smooth operator, master at flirtation and romance. He’s good at planning romantic dates and outtings.

Dani Rojas

You 100% believe his mom when she says he was born caffeinated.

One of your first dates was a Mumford and Sons concert which was an interesting experience.

Soft boi hours with him. He’s a lil puppy dog.

Does this man ever sleep? Rarely.

He rises with the son and wants to get the day started immediately but he’s mostly letting you sleep in now.

He LOVES trying new things, exploring new places, generally having new experiences.

His absolute favorite thing to do when he’s not training is playing football (or any game, really) with the kids in your neighborhood. They all love him.

He’s a sweet boyfriend, not as sweet as Sam but he’s a close second.

You alternate who plans date night. You split the chores 50/50 but divvy it up if one of you is sick or has more work to do.

There’s so much alcohol in your flat its unreal.

You usually go to sleep before him but he has a bad habit of throwing himself into bed and partially waking you.

He makes the best breakfast most mornings.

And don’t forget the trips back home to visit his family in Guadalajara.

After a long day of training, he loves just laying down with his head on your lap while you run your fingers through his hair.

Jamie Tartt (Season 1)

FUCK NO

Jamie Tartt (Season 2)

On your first date you got drunk and bonded over shitty fathers.

Not that either of you really remembered the next day, you were both too hungover to immediately recall the night.

His love language is kind words.

At the start he needed a lot of reassuring that you did care about him for who he was, warts and all.

He’s slightly awkward when it comes to romantic gestures so most of the date planning falls on you don’t mind.

He still has some high maintenance behavior but he’s working on it and you’re proud of how far he’s come from the prick he used to be.

Your fights are usually over petty shit like where to eat for dinner or what movie to go see.

He will not hesitate to buy your feminine products for you. He knows your preferred brands and sizes and what treats you like when its that time.

He’s good at those rigged carnival games, the many little stuffed animals in your closet can attest to that.

He talks in his sleep. It’s all nonsense.

He has a soft spot for the neighbor’s cat (and cats in general).

Roy Kent

Rugged.

He’s great to snuggle up to.

The man is honest to boot. He doesn’t sugar coat anything at all.

10/10 times he will go down on you if asked. He’s a giver.

He is the heaviest sleeper in the world. You don’t know why he bothers setting alarms.

Phoebe has a room at your flat and spends so much time with you both.

Many nights have been spent reading different books on the couch together.

He has to clean the drains since 75% of it is his.

Fuck is a very versatile word in your home, used daily.

Not the most romantic man alive but he has his moments.

Date nights are usually relaxed and proper but sometimes you can make the old man have a little fun.

He growls at least a dozen times a day, it’s his main response.

Jan Maas

My beloved

My sweet, beloved Jan who can’t/won’t use a filter to save his life.

He’s blunt in everything and sometimes it makes you want to slap him.

Jan is still getting used to English ways and mannerisms.

He has good intentions but sometimes needs a little help with wording.

He likes going on Aquarium dates.

The more tired he is, the clingier he is and it’s too cute.

Once after a game he plopped onto the couch next to you and basically tried to curl up in your lap.

He can make amazing pancakes.

Thats it though.

You’ll do most of the cooking if you value living in a flat that’s not on fire.

He’s a sweetheart though.

Mostly good intentions though.

Doesn’t mind nudity and had to quickly be reined in by the team. Not at home though.

At home he can easily be found lounging in boxers and a t-shirt while he sips coffee.

He knows what he’s doing.

Tag Team: @bdffkierenwalker

#Ted Lasso #Jan Maas #Isaac McAdoo #Dani Rojas #Roy Kent #Jamie Tartt #Sam Obisanya #Richard Montlaur #AFC Richmond Himbos #AFC Richmond #AFC Richmond Greyhounds #Emotional Support Himbos #I love them all your honor #Jan Maas my beloved #Sam Obisanya is baby

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tiesthatbind-tf · 3 years

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The movement is a rhythm to us Freedom is like religion to us Justice is juxtapositionin' us Justice for all just ain't specific enough

I swear to god this man’s sheet took up way more effort than initially planned but holy shit is he ever worth it all. IDW did you dirty, Jazz, but I sure as hell am not going to. So you know what you’re going to get buddy? A full background, connections, a QPP who sees you as their sun and a lead role as a Matrix holder and rebellion leader in the Functionist Universe arc because we go big or go home here, and no one deserves it more. Full story below the cut!

Jace was born out of wedlock in New York to a single-parent household and worked at the Red Hook docks in Brooklyn as teenager; He lived in a district redlined for Class 5 (manual workers) which he was immediately assigned to and never managed to finish his formal schooling as his mother, who was a factory worker, was maimed while at work and was unable to keep supporting the family as the breadwinner, so he stepped up early at the age of fourteen.

He is cousin to Shamar Wesley (affectionately named ‘Streetwise’) who is five years younger than him and was adopted by his mother when Shamar’s own parents passed away in a workers’ bus crash. Despite his education being cut short for sake of supporting his family, Shamar ended up helping Jace keep up by teaching him what had been learnt at school when he came home from his shift.

His mother, Nichelle, had a love for singing and from her is where his love for music (and his gift for it, as he claims) came from, and her death when he was 17 due to a chronic illness which they had no coverage for and he couldn’t earn nearly enough to mitigate, hit him hard.

To make things worse, Shamar was taken away from him because he wasn’t legally considered an adult yet, and even if he could argue in court for guardianship, he had a home life considered to be financially unstable.

With no choice but to surrender Shamar to the adoption system, Jace promised him that they would be together again once he was considered stable enough to provide a good home. In the meantime however, he found himself becoming more and more involved with unions as it became increasingly clear to him that people in his work class were being locked into a generational cycle of poverty that had to be broken.

With his innate charisma and alluring voice, he made connections and friends and became a visible youth figurehead of the union movement demanding for minimum wage and compensation for workplace injuries like the one which disabled his mother.

His activities didn’t go unnoticed however, and during a peaceful protest which was violently broken up by police, he was arrested on charges of inciting a riot and persuaded to give up his colleagues in return for a lower sentence and being given custody of Shamar.

However, a cop with a crippling guilty conscience, Barrin Caidel (Barricade) stopped him from commiserating over the deal and revealed that the intention from higher up had always been to punish him and his colleagues as an example, and that he was slated to be sentenced to Empurata like his older friends—-the only reason the procedure for him had been delayed was because of the red tape concerning his relative youth, and it had been cleared the same evening the offer had been made to him.

Urging for Jace to run, Barrin offered him enough money to take him across the Atlantic via a migrant smuggling operation at the docks to the UK where extradition would be a tedious process even if they could track him down, and Jace, torn between the horror of what was going to be done to him and the guilt of leaving behind Shamar, made a call to his cousin to explain the situation. Shamar wasted no time in echoing Barrin’s advice, asserting that this wasn’t goodbye and that they were going to see each other again.

Landing on UK shores a week later, Jace took on the pseudonym of ‘Jaden Tanner’ to hide his tracks and blend in with the working population. He found employment at the docks near Wapping and spent the next few years keeping an eye over his shoulder for every shadow and every face that seemed to linger on him longer than usual.

As his fear of being caught by US agents faded however, he began to properly integrate himself into the dock-working community and began pursuing music as a side career, joining a group of buskers on the streets after hours to earn a little extra income.

His gift caught the attention of the owner of Maccadam’s New Tavern in London’s Newham borough who offered to give him a bigger platform to perform for a night, which he enthusiastically agreed too.

On the night of his debut however, the career musicians on call staged a walkout after discovering that a manual worker would be joining their ranks as a vocalist, and for a moment it seemed as though his dream to make a real career out of music was in danger of being killed before it even began, until several patrons who were witness to the argument between Maccadam’s owner and the musicians offered their services to help him put on a show. It was here that he was first introduced to Omar Parvez (Optimus, who offered to take the piano), Omar’s close friend Morgan Trayton (Megatron, who offered to work the violin), Ramiro Vasquez (Ravage, who volunteered for the guitar) and Lara Soelberg (who made a beeline for the drums).

With the help of these four strangers, he managed to put on a show that earned him a weekend gig at Maccadam’s.

He continued to see Omar and Morgan sporadically on those weekends and became casually acquainted with them, until Morgan stopped coming entirely and the next time he saw Omar, it was when the man has been demoted from Constable to lost, confused and dejected dock worker for speaking up against systemic corruption.

Determined to repay Omar’s goodwill, he took the man under his wing and taught him how to work on and with the ships that docked in the area and during that time, became close enough friends with him that they ended up housemates in a shared apartment, and he ended up telling Omar his real name and the truth about his past.

When Omar was called on by Senator Sharifuddin Waseem (Shockwave) to investigate Senate corruption, he offered his services as well to connect to people on the ground and run infiltration exercises, having caught the glimpse of true revolution on the horizon and no longer willing to keep his head low and stay in hiding as the momentum grew stronger.

Once upon a time he’d been a teenager who fled a continent out of fear of how the government planned to break his body and spirit for lighting the the smallest of sparks on the bonfire of reform.

This time, the spark was a torch, and he wasn’t going to stand down until the old system was baptized in its flames.

#Maccadam #Humanformers #Jazz #Prowl #Orion Pax #Character Art #Art

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 26

Hannibal, Will and y/n host a dinner to put an end to everything

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon

Trigger warnings: PTSD, violence

"Hannibal, baby," You called down from the wine cellar. "Which one pairs best with the paella?"

"A Spanish white!" Will interjected.

You rolled your eyes, then looked at his shelf full of Spanish whites. "Thanks, Hannibal."

"You're the sommelier, [F/N]." Will shouted back. "Go with your gut!"

"Verdejo it is." You said to yourself, grabbing the high-shouldered bottle from the shelf.

You returned from the cellar and headed to the dining room, where Will was dutifully setting the table.

"Well aren't you the perfect little homemaker?" You commented, making sure he caught you eyeing his backside.

Will playfully snatched the wine from your hands. "We can't all be the breadwinners, can we, Ms. Restaurant Owner?"

You laughed, looking around at your triple-income house and accepting a kiss from your Will. You put your hands on his shoulders and broke the kiss.

"You know Hannibal isn't going to let you attend one of his famous dinner parties in a flannel, right?" You warned him, lips hovering a few inches from his face.

"Two guests is not a dinner party." Will corrected you. "I figured you'd know this after six months but, baby, Hannibal is always overdressed for everything."

"Better overdressed than the other way around, my treasure." Hannibal said, standing in the threshold. "Why don't you go slip in to that suit I bought you?"

Will threw his hands up. "Do you two just live to gang up on me? You know I can buy my own clothes, right?"

You scoffed. "Babe, you spent your last paycheck almost entirely at Bass Pro Shops-"

"And then we spent the day workshopping new seafood dishes for the restaurant with the fish I caught." Will shrugged. "You don’t get to benefit from it then complain."

You put up your hands in surrender. "Fair enough."

"So I don't make an ordeal out of this in front of guests," Hannibal said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out two small drawstring bags and gave one to each of you. "Happy six months, my darlings."

"Six month anniversary presents?" Will laughed. "What are we, high school students?"

"Do you not want it?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that." He mumbled.

You opened the bag and slid the contents into your hand. A beautiful solid white ring with ornate carvings tumbled out.

"It's beautiful." You smiled, sliding it on to your finger. "What is it?"

"A ring, my indulgence." Hannibal chuckled.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Sure, but what is it made of?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Ivory."

"Should I be concerned that you somehow know both of our ring sizes?" Will asked, admiring how his fit perfectly on his finger.

“I think you mean ‘thank you, Hannibal’.” You corrected him. “Even if it is a little uncanny.”

The doorbell rang. Hannibal threw a dish towel over his shoulder and pointed to Will.

"Go change." He ordered. "I will not have my guests seeing you in such an unsightly state."

"It's Jack and [F/N]'s friend." Will protested.

"Sure, I'll get the door." You said. "Gee, thanks [F/N], that would be so helpful!"

You opened the door with a smile.

"Agent Crawford!" You greeted, shaking his hand.

"Oh, please." He laughed. "Call me Jack."

"And this must be Bella." You said, offering his wife your hand. "Jack has told me all about you."

"So you're the infamous [F/N] [L/N]?" Bella accepted with a smile. "It's so nice to meet you."

Jack removed his hat and coat, then handed you a bag. "For you."

"You shouldn't have." You said, knowing immediately that it was wine. Then you pulled it out of the bag. Your eyes went wide and your jaw hung open.

"Holy shit you really shouldn't have." You repeated.

Jack shrugged and smiled smugly. "I pulled some strings in evidence. Figured you might want it."

You threw your arms around his neck, keeping a tight grip on the 1907 Heidsieck Monopole.

"Hey, do I get a hug?" Said another voice.

Charissa waved to you from the porch.

"Holy shit, hey!" You opened your arms. Charissa jumped into your embrace and squeezed you. She'd always hugged you tighter after seeing you half-alive in a hospital bed with your seldom-seen lovers at your bedside.

"Jack, this is my friend Charissa Rodriquez." You introduced. "She was the one who sent you the address."

"So you're 'tip', huh?" Jack's face lit up. "The FBI owes you a debt of gratitude, Ms. Rodriquez."

"Tip?" You said, looking at both Jack and Charissa.

"The address we received came from an obvious burner email." Jack explained. "We thought it was from Chase, so we arrived with a ton of backup anticipating an attack. Turns out we needed it."

Charissa shrugged. "I thought you could never be too careful."

"Well, intentional or not," Jack said. "You helped us a lot."

"You're Charissa Rodriquez?" Will said from the staircase. He wore a grey suit with a dark blue dress shirt that fit him scarily well considering he hadn't even tried it on.

"Enchanté, monsieur." Charissa said, eyeing him up with a hungry smile. "You must be Will."

"Down, girl." You crossed your arms. Your tone was playful, but had a slight threatening bite. "He's all mine."

"Not all yours." Hannibal corrected, entering the scene to finally greet his guests. "Agent Crawford, Bella, Ms. Rodriquez, welcome."

"Wow." Charissa said, dumbfounded. "I feel like I'm meeting a celebrity."

"Oh, surely the rumors unraveled after the old place went out of business." Hannibal answered. "There are far more interesting things to talk about than myself."

"Very few, but they do exist." Jack commented.

Charissa folded her arms. "Like the bartender who stood up to a psychotic cult leader and found two wonderful boyfriends to take care of her?"

"I've heard that one!" You added. "I hear she bought the restaurant for next to nothing after it became a stigmatized property."

Carissa narrowed her eyes at you. "I still cannot believe you told him."

You shrugged. "I think it all worked out."

Hannibal gathered everyone around the table and tasked you with pouring the wine.

"Surely you know why I've invited you here tonight." He asked, taking a seat at the head. "The high courts have ruled Chase's death a suicide."

"Cheers to that." Will said, raising his glass.

"Nobody actually believes it was a suicide." Jack clarified, trying not to look at you too obviously. "But the jury didn't want to dignify him with a proper homicide ruling."

Charissa glared at you, not trying to not be obvious. "Only one person at the table knows for sure."

You shook your head. "I hit my head really hard, the details are just not there."

"But [F/N]'s DNA was on the gun." Bella added.

"But not her fingerprints." Jack said. "It was saliva. We think he tried to choke her with his fingers before reaching for the gun."

"Did you ever find that finger?" Charissa said like it was nothing.

Jack, who was more interested in the paella than the conversation, shook his head. "Never."

Your eyes widened. You left the finger with the gun, you were sure of it.

"Must we discuss the gory details over dinner?" Will said, sensing your discomfort.

Charissa rested her chin in her hands. "Would you rather talk about your three-person couple?"

"I distinctly remember spitting the finger out." You insisted.

"We found so many pieces of bone in that room," Jack continued. "It's genuinely of far less concern than the dynamite lining the walls and bunker full of cocaine, stolen medical supplies and baby coffins."

"And the stained glass window made of human skin." You added.

"You know a case is fucked when a lost finger is of the least concern." Charissa commented.

"The important thing is that it's over." Will said. "He's dead and [F/N] is alive."

Bella smiled at you. "God really is looking out for you, [F/N]."

You forced a smile, telling yourself that Bella had the best intentions. But her good intentions revived Chase's voice in your head, which was a voice you'd spent the last six months trying to forget. You tightened your grip on your utensils to relieve some tension, but it didn’t work.

The table went quiet, waiting for Bella to realize her mistake. Will put his hand over yours and looked into your eyes. He mouthed the word 'breathe' and some similar affirmations.

Hannibal raised his head, knowing the light casting shadows on his face intimidated people. "Ms. Bella, we generally don't talk religion here."

She covered her mouth with her fingertips. "I'm so sorry, [F/N], I just meant-"

You put your hand up. "Please, just don't."

"The important thing is that [F/N] recovered forty missing women and reunited them with their families." Will said. "And there was no divine presence involved in that."

You smiled softly. "I'll drink to that."

"And you'll also be happy to know that the woman who assisted him in luring all those girls into the cult," Jack added. "She's looking at twenty-five to life without parole."

"What about the babies?" Bella piped up. "Weren't there, like, at least twelve newborns?"

"That's where the department of family and child services took over." Jack answered. "Whether the biological mothers kept them or put them up for adoption is out of our hands, but I do know each child was thoroughly examined and are all up to date on their shots."

"Seriously, though." Charissa interjected. "How do you misplace an entire finger?"

"It's one of the easier appendages to misplace." Hannibal answered, speaking with experience. "I heard it wasn't just the one that you couldn't find."

Jack looked up from his plate, confused. "Now how did you know about that?"

"The man took a 12 gauge bullet directly to the hand, Jack." Hannibal said with a small chuckle. "It's more likely you find no fingers than any at all."

"The bones will turn up somewhere." Jack said, resignedly.

He just happened to say the word “bones” as you were glancing at your ring.

You smiled a little too wide. “They just might.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #the sommelier #will graham #will graham x reader #will graham x you #hannibal x you x will #hannigram x reader #hannibal x reader x will

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lea-andres · 3 years

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Oops have some more Team Chaotix headcanons, guys! This is my idea of their origin story, kind of in chronological order. It's just me rambling, LOL.

I'm commandeering @sonicsmeteor 's headcanon that something happened to make Espio so bloodthirsty toward Eggman/Nega. So Espio is from another country originally, where he was being raised by his ninja clan family. (I like to think it was Chun-Nan, because I love Unleashed, but the Unleashed countries might not be Canon anymore... so 🤷) But, a typical Eggman taking over the world scheme caused his whole family to die when he was 3-4 years old. 😳 And it wasn't even intentional on Eggman's part. They were just... in the way.

I'm not certain on all the angsty, gritty details yet (I'm avoiding that for now with "Espio doesn't like to talk about it"), but that's... A Thing.

Espio was shipped off to Seaside City, and was bounced around a lot between foster families and orphanages. No one was too keen on the idea of adopting a ninja assassin child who watched his whole family die, and Espio was unfairly regarded as a "Troubled Youth"/juvenile delinquent because of it.

Because of everyone assuming Espio was trouble right from the get go, he decided to show them just how much trouble he could be. He'd sneak out at night and wander the city, causing mayhem and picking fights with any Eggman robots he'd encounter. (He's got a criminal record from these days. Nothing really crazy, just some 'destruction of property', 'trespassing', and 'disturbing the peace' violations. It comes back to haunt him work wise sometimes, but Vector vouches for him.)

Vector's past is pretty uneventful. He graduated from school with a degree in criminal justice (helps explain why the Chaotix are so broke, student loans LOL... 😵) and might've minored or even just taken a class or two in early childhood education. He knew he wanted to be a detective from day one, but he's got a big soft spot for kids.

If you had asked Vector before his first case, he would've told you he loves kids, definitely wants two or three someday, but not right now. He needs to get his career going first. (This will be humorous later.)

Vector and Espio met when a jewelry store near his latest foster home was robbed. Vector was just starting out as a private investigator, and this was his first case. Everyone else was eager to just convict Espio of the crime and be done with it (because he was the closest delinquent, who else would it have been?), but Vector was confident Espio didn't do it, and the real culprit was trying to set him up to be the fall guy. So Vector insisted, despite all the pressure otherwise, on doing a full, proper investigation and consider all possibilities. Turned out he was right: the store owner was trying to commit insurance fraud, and figured no one would bother looking into it if he accused Espio. Vector tore the guy a new one for trying to do that to a little kid, earning Espio's respect and gratitude forever.

They'd ran into each other a couple more times after that while Vector was solving other cases and Espio was up to some late night trouble. Vector put a stop to the late night trouble almost immediately, but he was against the idea of sending the kid home (the jewelry store case left a bad taste in his mouth, he didn't know it for sure yet, but he sensed Espio's home life was not great), so he decided to bring the kid with him on cases, and teach him how to be a detective.

It got to a point where Espio would just be over at the office every second he had available. There didn't even have to be a case happening, he just wanted to be with Vector instead of his foster families.

Sometimes people would ask Vector how he tolerates 'that troublemaker bothering him all the time', but Vector always insists Espio is not a troublemaker, and he's not bothering him. He loves having the kid around.

Vector was the one who suggested Espio blend together ninjitsu and being a detective. He thought the two complimented each other well, and Espio shouldn't forget his past.

Espio really cleaned up his act thanks to Vector, and was the happiest he'd been since his family died. He looked up to Vector like a father.

Espio's got some abandonment issues (WONDER WHY), and eventually begged Vector to take him on officially as his apprentice out of fear that he was going to lose his father figure too. Vector refused to be his mentor, and gave Espio a counter offer: He wanted to adopt him, and give him the familial love and care he deserved. 🥺

Adopting Espio was a long, arduous nightmare. "Vector's too young", "Espio's a problem child." "Vector's single, Espio needs a mother to nurture him properly." (That one made Vector the angriest of them all) It eventually worked out though.

This was one of the few times Vector saw Espio cry of happiness. 🥺🥺🥺

Time jump ahead 7 (happy) years, Vector and Espio are hired to solve a homicide case. Well, Vector was hired. Everyone was hesitant about him bringing his 13 year old son, but Vector insisted that they're a team and they solve cases together. Espio just darkly quipped he's "seen worse".

However, this case was particularly hairy, as the key witness was the murder victim's 3 year old son, Charmy. (No, he didn't see the murder, I'm not THAT monstrous, but he did see the murderer make their escape, and he was needed to ID them.)

If you were to ask Espio, he'd tell you that he knew the second Vector laid eyes on the bee that Charmy was going to be his new little brother.

Charmy had been really scared of all of the law officials and lawyers and news reporters all crowding around him demanding to know what happened and what he saw, so he clammed up and was refusing to speak to anyone.

So Vector had to chase them all off, and he and Espio comforted Charmy.

It took a couple days and a lot of patience, but Charmy eventually warmed up to both of them (especially Vector), and as long as at least one of them was with him he had the confidence to give his testimony. His true personality started to shine through again, all his cheeriness and optimism despite the morbid situation he was in. He really won over Vector and Espio at that point.

I don't have all the details of the case figured out yet, but obviously the Chaotix figured it out and justice was served. :)

Vector feared it was going to be harder to adopt Charmy than it was to adopt Espio (because Charmy was younger, and more desirable to the average family), but it wasn't. Vector and Espio milked "You guys said Espio was a problem child, and look at him NOW, after 7 years in MY CARE!" for all it was worth. 😂

So Vector's been teaching Charmy all the detective stuff too, and Charmy's been picking it up, as we've seen.

That's all I've got so far. I have some holes to fill in, but give me a couple days and I will.

I might turn this into a whole fic someday. I could get way more detailed than this, even. 😂

#team chaotix #espio the chameleon #vector the crocodile #charmy bee #haha this got dark #vector just meets troubled kids in his cases and goes 'you're my kid now'#espio having a criminal record might be a hot take but i like it #you guys should really stop humoring me lol

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mrs-bartowski · 3 years

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My dudes. My guys. My pals.

I’m about 10 seconds away from going feral.

So, I’m the kind of unfortunate chump whose brain requires continuity. Meaning, when I started thirst watching Supergirl during its mid-season-2 hiatus and came across the realization that it had crossovers with all the other arrowverse shows, my brain tasked me with watching them all. I won’t put you through a recount of this arduous feat, but it does leave me with the certain advantage of having immediate and full-contextual access to any parallels between supercorp and canon CW DCEU couples.

Normally, this is a good thing, because it’s just another crumb to obsess over. But I just finished watching Legends 6x02 and...I. AM. FUMING.

I literally don’t even know where to start, but know that if you’ve made it this far you’re in for a long ride because my entire being is in Scream mode right now and I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop typing until it passes.

OKAY. So.

Meet Sara Lance (lol jk y’all thirsty gays know who she is I mean look at this flawless human)

Next, meet her ******* Ava Sharpe (who is literally the definition of white European beauty standards-based perfection because she’s a clone from the future)

And finally, meet Gary Green. He’s...well, he’s Gary.

Sara started out on Arrow and is now the captain of the Legends. Ava was the director of the Time Bureau and Gary was an agent, and now they are also members of the Legends. Sara has been there (and been the show’s effective lead) since season 1. Ava and Gary both came in at the beginning of season 3.

Gary is (as pictured) an absolute fool, but he is also kind of regarded as the one the Legends Must Protecc. The whole team is considered a family, and, while they are not necessarily labeled as best friends, Gary has been Ava’s longest and most loyal companion, and Sara has a way of adopting him because she’s the best equipped to keep him out of trouble.

So, why is all of this relevant to why I want to go feral? Because it sounds a bit familiar, yes? Member of the team that is somewhat a black sheep, doesn’t get included fully or all the time but often comes in with save-the day type shit (even though with Gary it’s more of a distraction than a save because he’s a mess of a man). Close friend to one of our two main heroes and, subsequently, that hero’s closest companion puts them at the top of their Protecc list. Has little faith in his relationships with the team so he is constantly going out of his way to help in whatever way he can to prove his usefulness. And so on and so forth.

Well, 6x01 marks exactly 3 years since Gary’s first appearance, and what did we find out in that episode? That Gary is an alien. And not just any alien - an alien who was sent (by the woman he was traded to) to get close to Sara because she has been labeled as one of the world’s most dangerous creatures. Not to mention, his species of alien feeds on humans (not him of course, he’s reformed, but nonetheless not a friendly species). And we find out all of this because he and his master abduct her.

Sara finds out in person while Ava and the rest of the Legends solve the mystery on their own. Now, I’ve drawn a lot of comparisons between Lena and Gary to make a point about the time frame and nature of their relationships, but let’s take a look at Sara, shall we? For starters, she’s been “dead” either literally or supposedly about...what, 15 times now? If you think that’s an exaggeration, here’s the link to her fan wiki which says she’s been presumed dead 10 times and actually dead 5. The sg writers tried to sell season 5 as “the fight for Lena’s soul” but Sara LITERALLY LOST HER SOUL when she got resurrected in the Lazarus pit. 90% of Sara’s character development has been based on her certainty that she is too close to death and evil and destruction (getting possessed by a demon, perhaps, had something to do with this?). She was an actual literal assassin and she has left civilization out of anger and pain to go back to that life once before.

She has always believed that she is too dangerous to have real love or relationships or friends. And now she has found and built and led this family through time and space and she’s done so with this goofball by her side that is endearingly attached to the love of her life. So, how does she react when she finds out Gary is an alien? Well, clearly, she goes down a dark path, right? She cries and screams and talks about betrayal because she’s had such a hard time with feeling like she only ever puts the people she loves in danger and now here she is finding out there’s been a human-eating alien in her family for three years that was tasked with observing her and keeping her in check because she is exactly that dangerous?

Yeah...try again. This is how Sara reacts:

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And then there's another scene that apparently no one even bothered to put on YouTube where you can see the pain in Sara's eyes when she asks him “why me?” You can see how hurt she is that after 3 years she’s just finding out that their friendships is based on lies and that she has trouble keeping her faith in it. But in both of these instances where are the “crocodile tears?” Where are the fearful, shaky confessions from Gary about his fear of losing the only people who have ever really loved or cared about him and desperate justifications about how he just wanted to protect them and keep them in the dark so his master didn’t come after them? Where is the outrage from Sara about how everything Gary has reassured her about over the past three years when she was scared to let the damaged-soul assassin inside of her out was a lie and he doesn’t get to tell her who or what she is again? Where is the determination from Ava to make Gary pay for not only lying for three years but for ABDUCTING THE LOVE OF HER LIFE TO HAND OVER TO A FLESH-EATING ALIEN??????

Nowhere. Those things...they’re nowhere. There’s anger. There’s pain. There’s doubt and heartbreak and fury. There’s betrayal and helplessness and desperation. But there is no scene with Sara standing on a balcony and Gary looking up at her longingly because he wants to talk to her about the secret and he knows it will change everything between them. There is no scene with Sara and Ava lamenting over what this means for Gary and the team and the world because he’s no longer the person they knew. There are no romantically-scored scenes of them looking teary-eyed at the pictures they took together or reassurances that the others’ intentions are good and trustworthy now that the truth is out in the open. There is nothing to imply that the last several years of friendship are now entirely suspect (damaged, frayed, clouded, maybe, but definitely not voided) because Gary kept this secret to protect them. And Gary isn’t made to feel obscenely guilty or shameful because his intentions were good and he only did what he felt he had to. But most of all, the world doesn’t feel like it’s going to end.

And I’m not talking about we’re now scared Gary will take his master’s side or Sara will suddenly decide that she never wants an alien to fool her or hurt her again so she’s going to make sure he doesn’t have the choice. I’m just talking about the way they address each other. There are no sobbing tears or laments over the biggest mistakes of their lives - even though it’s quite possible Gary could see this as his. There are no screaming matches over betrayal and mistrust and years of doubt and confusion. There will be no episode dedicated to going back and seeing what could have happened - what kind of danger they could have avoided from the alien(s) controlling Gary - had he told them the truth sooner because that’s the only way to save him and the world. There will be no episode where he has to single-handedly save them multiple times as some example of redemption. There will be no adamant looks and declarations about how the team knows his intentions were good and they forgive him. There won’t be any of that. Because Sara is not in love with Gary. And Ava is not in love with Gary. And Gary is not in love with either Sara or Ava. They’re just close friends. Family. Loved ones who mean a lot to each other but whose betrayal and seeds of doubt don’t bring on emotions whose force and ferocity could be acceptable for finding out the apocalypse is nigh.

I have many, many more feelings about this but right now I’m going to go write things that will make me feel better and not things that make me want to gather every writer from every CW show in a line and run down the line smacking them all in the face while the Legends writers watch and cheer. But I’m fuming. THIS is what it looks like when a years-long, heavily weighted lie is revealed between close friends/family. So, in conclusion, Supercorp endgame or die.

#supercorp #supercorp endgame #cw supergirl #supergirl #the cw #the cw network #legends of tomorrow #avalance #gary green #ava sharpe #sara lance #kara danvers #lena luthor #legends of tomorrow spoilers #Youtube

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archetypal-archivist · 3 years

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Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone P.2

So, a little while back I wrote piece titled Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone (linked here) which was inspired by the works of @petrichormeraki and @redorich, who popularized the AU of Tommyinnit from the Dream SMP getting dropped into Hermitcraft somehow and summarily getting adopted by the entire server. I, in my infinite wisdom, decided “yes, but also angst” and spat out a solid 1500+ words with a cliffhanger at the end because it was getting ridiculous and I had yet more to write. This is another 1500+ words of continuation.

-----

It's not easy, knowing things. Joe knows more things than most, and oh, how it eats at him sometimes. He jokes with Cleo that between the two of them and their dogs, they are perhaps the leading experts on being chewed on, but she never laughs at that joke. He can't help but wonder why, his thoughts drifting as he lies still and silent in her arms, curled up together on his bed in the winery. Her orange hair tickles his nose as he moves to bury his face in her shoulder a bit more, her cool breath ghosting over the sticky tear tracks that still line his cheeks. All the things that remain unsaid lie between them, but their silent agreement binds them together tighter still. And indeed silence is the name of the game, however much he wishes it wasn't necessary- everything will work out in due time, he knows. But oh, how it aches that he can't say anything more on the matter, not even to her.

"Cleo?" The zombie woman makes a soft inquiring noise, politely ignoring how his voice cracks on the syllables. "Are we doing the right thing?" Her grip tightens again, almost crushingly so, and Joe goes limp at the implied rebuke. Be it right or wrong, his silence must be ensured- he knows so much that if he said anything, it'd all come pouring out. A real modern-day Cassandra, verbal fountain and harbinger of doom in one. No, best to stay cryptic when he can and silent when he can't- and if even his silence fails, Cleo is there, sword in hand, ready to keep him quiet.

He should not take comfort from that. But here, wrapped up in his best friend's embrace, utterly at her mercy and all the safer for it... He does anyway.

-----

Joe and Cleo aren't in a romantic relationship, but it would not be amiss to call them platonic life partners in this universe. Joe has been seeing things for as long as he can remember, the exact mechanics are strange and baffling at best, and if he tries to actually do any Science to figure out how this stuff works, the magic changes to spite him. It's led to a lot of unfortunate visions of peanut butter and how the server generally tends to misuse the stuff (Etho sometimes using it instead of slime in a sticky piston is a milder example), so after enough peanut visions to make him allergic on principle, Joe tends to just let the visions come as they may. The only hard-coded bit that comes with them is that anyone living who hears his prophecies won't believe them and will have something bad happen to them as a result. Cleo, being a zombie, is a special exception to the rule. She's only alive in the most technical of senses, so while bad things still happen to her if she hears Joe speak about his experiences, she at least will believe him.

Which is why she is so determined to not know more about whatever is going on with Tommy. When Joe had rushed in a month ago, tears streaming down his cheeks and glasses barely hanging onto his face, she had merely put down the book she had been reading and had opened her arms wide to him. Convincing him that she would not betray his trust or break his heart had been hard, but she had known it was worth it. How can it be anything but, when Joe had looked at her then as if she was the most precious being on the planet and had immediately thrown himself into her arms, bursting out into troubled tears? He offered to tell her the full story, eyes wet and longing, and her long-dead heart ached at the trust he is giving her- but she is far too selfish to give that up. So she had turned him down, smile on her lips.

Even when he whispered, voice hoarse, that they wouldn't be seeing Tommy for a while. Even when he shuddered and shook in her arms, fragile as glass in her grip. Even when he begged her to ask, just ask, please, it's too much... She did not ask. If she asked, he would tell her, and then she would be hurt and his heart would break because it would be his words that had hurt her. She would not, cannot, will never inflict that upon him, or let him inflict that upon anyone else. (Of all the heads in her collection, the one she has most of is Joe's.)

She simply asks him if there will be a satisfying ending, and when he says yes, she asks no more. Everything will be okay, in the end. So long as there is that much, so long as she has Joe in her arms and the comfortable silence stretches out between them, then she will be content.

(At the foot of their bed, deep in Joe's winery where the barking is muffled and the light cannot touch them, there lies a chest of heads. Inside it, nestled among the many faces of the dead, rests an old iron sword bearing the name Hush. It's blade is rusty from disuse, but if Cleo ever decides that she isn't satisfied, well. There are ways of dealing with that.)

(Things will be okay. She'll make sure of it.)

-----

Philza was no stranger to death. A veteran of a hardcore world, where even the very earth was out to kill him, he had seen his fair share of deaths and had dealt out even more. Usually just to the local mobs and wildlife, but there was still the occasional player dropped into his world by the cruel hands of the Void as a sort of "apology" for leaving him alone, bereft of his sons. As if some random strangers could ever fill the Void in his heart.

Most of them had wandered off upon seeing him, more interested in escape than any companionship he could offer them, and he'd inevitably see their death messages in the otherwise silent chat a few days later. Others would approach him, some curious, some desperate for kindness- he gave them none, was often intentionally cruel just to drive them away. He had the Void in his heart and the Void had him, and he ached and ached for what he could not have. Anything less would be a pale imitation, a mockery of the love he was desperate to return to. He tried not to think about how those kind strangers would also come to meet their ends, often more messily than those that had decided to leave him be to begin with.

Then there were the rare few with... less than gentle intentions. (Blood for the Blood gods, no matter the universe.)

Theirs were the deaths he regretted the least, but the blood still gave him nightmares. For all that he loved his sons, he never understood their love for glory, be it found in conquering other nations or the sticky ooze of a dying foe. Maybe that's why he had spent so much of his time with his elder sons when he returned, the Void finally releasing him from his hardcore prison. Just a father's attempt at understanding, even if it left his youngest at loose ends.

But the problem with loose ends, he had come to find, is that the world had a way of setting them to rights- either by tying them back into the grand narrative, or by cutting them out entirely. For months after Dream had come to him, apology on his lips and charred shoe in hand, he had believed that Tommy's fate had been the latter. He had mourned his son as if such was the case, weeping openly at the news for the first time in years. (He wasn't the only one, though- Technoblade was an only child now and he was not taking it well.) It was only when Tubbo came to him with his compass to ask about its ever-spinning needle that he felt a spark of hope, for a compass that spun was not a compass linked to a dead soul- simply a lost one. Such hope was justified when, six months later, Technoblade burst into his house with a snarl on his lips and a smile in his eyes. Tommy had returned.

And as Phil stood, back straightening and wings spread wide, hope bloomed in his chest like hanahaki, choking him with love right down to his core. Tommy had returned, despite everything.

And Philza would not let him go again.

-----

For all that Tommy might have been... gone for at least a month now on the Hermitcraft server and life has significantly slowed down for all involved, by no means has it stopped entirely. The shops are still stocked, the torches are replaced when the old ones burn out, Hermits still go out and see each other, if less often than before. Xisuma, in fact, instates a series of mandatory meetings every week or so as a way of making sure that everyone is still alive- a bit of reassurance that no one else has died in the time interim. Even the hermits who prefer to keep to themselves show up, such as Tinfoilchef, Joe, and Cleo, although the latter two remain distinctly separate from everyone else on the server during the meetings, their refusal to take a side alienating them from the rest. Grian, broken though he may be, also comes, usually in the arms of Iskall or with a vacant smile on his face depending on the state of his mental health on the given day. His presence is also alienating, as most of the hermits don't quite know what to say around him and thus will give him and Iskall a bubble of space to themselves during the meetings. Mumbo is the only one to cross the divide, standing loomingly tall at Iskall's back, as if daring anyone to say something potentially hurtful to either of his friends.

Frankly, the entire concept of weekly meetings is a bit of a mess. Xisuma stands at the front with Keralis at his back, voice and posture more and more tired with every meeting and Keralis standing just a bit closer, a silent show of support (ready if his admin ever needs some physical support too). The prognosis is usually a mix of dull stuff and hopeless stuff- lag is better than it has been in years, the Chestmonster shop is out again, Tommy still has not been... found. It's not exciting exactly, but the tension during the reporting stage is palpable as everyone waits to hear if something else has gone wrong. It's a bit like being on the front lines- horrible, drawn-out minutes of tedium as everyone holds their breath, waiting to see if another bombshell will drop but knowing that they have to be there, because some warning is infinitely better than seeing a death message in chat one day and not knowing if that person will ever make it back.

In addition to this is the tension that comes from the server being split in three- the believers, the mourners, and those too damaged or too caught up in their own narratives or too neutral to swing to one side or the other.

The meetings are where the most near-fights happen, and Xisuma is so, so tired of having to be the sane one these days. (The benefit of a helmet, he's come to find, is that no one can see you cry.)

(He doesn't take it off much anymore.)

-----

It's after one such meeting that Zedaph finds himself cooped up in his base, eyes burning with unshed tears and feet dangling out into the Void as he sits at the bottom of the hole in his base, the one that goes straight to bedrock and then even further still. The chill is a welcome distraction from his own inner turmoil, and for all that it's dangerous to be sitting so near to the edge of the world, he can't find it in himself to move away form its cold comfort. After all, Tommy can't have died permanently, right? So sitting there is perfectly safe. He has to believe that. He has to.

The meetings are tough on everyone, but sometimes Zedaph wonders if they are a bit worse for him than they are for the rest. It can't be normal that the first thing he does after every meeting is burst into panicked tears as soon as he gets back to his base, as he's certainly never felt such deep fear and relief after the meetings they had before the Incident. And yet, as soon as the iron door of his base sncks shut behind him, he drops down into the Void hole, sits at the edge, and bawls his eyes out. It's kinda funny- he's shed more tears in the last month than he has in his entire life so far. And all for a boy he had known for less than a year.

During this particular day, however, something odd happens. When he sits down for a good cry, it feels like there's the slightest of breezes coming off the Void beneath his feet, chilling him right down to his bones. It's cold, yes, but a welcome relief as he feels a bit like he's burning up from the inside out. Every moment he spends with Tango and Impulse is stifling, as with them he has to shove himself into a hateful mold he never wanted for himself. He doesn't like being angry, and being angry alongside his best friends is hardly any better. If he had it his way, he would have curled up in bed and simply slept the horror away, only waking when the nightmare was over and he could go play mini golf and Among Us with Tango, Impulse, and Tommy again. Instead, his love for his friends demands that he supports them in all their endeavors, even if their goals these days seem to run a little closer to "get them all killed" than is comfortable.

But yes. The breeze. It feels like ice on his skin and sends every nerve in his legs buzzing. It has a distinct smell to it too, like TV static, ozone, and that sensation you get after you brush your teeth and go take a big gulp of cold water. It's... odd. But vaguely comforting. And as the tears finally well up in his eyes and drip down his cheeks, as he lets himself sob for all the friends- both new and old- he's lost, he finds that it's exactly what he needs.

And if Zedaph would only listen a little closer, let himself see beyond his broken heart, perhaps he would hear the whisper on the wind, too.

Everything will be okay. I'll make sure of it.

-----

Evil X has his own troubles to deal with. He had been present when Tommy had died, if watching from the wrong side of their dimension. Lost in the Void with nothing better to do, he had often found himself watching his friend go about his day. With space and time being as screwy as they were in the Void, he could find himself taking three steps and then would be watching Tommy go from sleeping over at BDub's base to having "breakfast" with Rendog. So when Grian and Tommy had gone out End-busting that fateful day, of course he had been watching. And that was all he could do- watch- as he saw his best friend fall to his apparent death, that little line of code that signaled "perma-death" flashing once, twice, and then glowing a deep, ominous red.

But that wasn't the end of it, even as his dull and bruised heart stuttered in his chest at the sight.

Like a redstone pulse lighting up everything around it, that red glow set off a cascading chain reaction that rippled up and down Tommy's code until it eventually trailed out to wherever his code stretched out into the Void. There, it must have severed something because before he could even call for help, his friend's code yanked inwards and away, slingshotting the whole mess into the distant darkness beyond, leaving naught but a vague impression on the inside of his eyelids behind. It was... awful. One of the scariest things he had ever seen, perhaps second only to watching his brother, stern-faced and cold, send him off to the Void once again. But for all that it hurt to see that red glow and watch in mute horror as the server he had once tried to destroy shake itself apart at the seams, there was still hope.

The code was gone, yes, but not unraveled, not destroyed. Merely... transported. Moved. Like a file being sent from one computer to another, or a player teleporting between servers. Tommy's code vanishing like that was cause for alarm, yes, but somewhere out there in the vastness of the Void, it lingered still- and it had left a faint impression of itself in its wake. That meant there was hope.

Evil X- and by proxy, his twin Xisuma- were voidwalkers, beings specifically designed to see, understand, and even modify the world's code. Were he anything else, he surely would have perished by now, his consciousness scattered across the Void as it was. And having been in exile for so long, he had gotten to be adept at seeing the seams between worlds and reading the truths of existence as the Void had intended for her children. If anyone could follow that faint trail, could get Tommy back, it would be him.

For the first time in a long time, Evil X had hope. And hope is a vicious motivator indeed.

-----

TBC :)

#fanfiction #my writing #minecraft #dream smp #hermitcraft #hermit tommy au #heartstone #i'm pretty pleased with this

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mynumberfivethings · 3 years

Text

I Heard A Rumor...

They land back in 2019, which is a relief, of course, until it’s not.

“What the fuck even is the Sparrow Academy?” Diego grouses. “Lame ass bird fucks.” he chucks one of his knives across the cramped motel room they’re currently occupying and watches it get lodged firmly into the tacky wallpaper.

Allison grabs the second knife Diego’s about to fling out of his hand and glares daggers at her brother. “We’re staying here for free, because I rumored the motel staff into not noticing we exist, so maybe don’t wreck the place?”

Luther nods in agreement. “Allison’s right, we need to be as inconspicuous as possible right now.”

Diego rolls his eyes. “Whatever. So Five, now what?” the siblings all go to turn to Five for the answers they’re so desperately seeking, only to be met with the sight of the pseudo thirteen year old laid curled up on one of the beds, sound asleep.

Luther frowns. “How in the hell can he seriously sleep at a time like this?”

Allison leans over Fives still form and not so gently shakes his shoulder, jarring him awake. She feels a little guilt upon seeing the initially panicked look on his face as he comes to awareness once again, but damn it, she just wants to see her kid again, is that too much to ask?

“We need to figure out a way to get back to our timeline.” she tells him, arms folded over her chest.

Five scratches the sleep from his eyes, unaware he’d even passed out in the first place, wincing as he sits up fully on the mattress. “This is our timeline.” he informs all of them, his voice coming out scratchy and thin. God, he’s exhausted. And practically everything aches.

“What do you mean?” Klaus shakes his head. “In our timeline Ben is very much dead-not some weird emo douche who flocks with a crew of birds-so please do explain how the actual hell this makes any sense.”

Five sighs, “We changed the linear time of events and the order in which they were supposed to originally occur when we were in the sixties and now this is, for all intents and purposes, our timeline.”

“Screw that. We need to reestablish our actual timeline.” Allison counters. “I’m not staying in this weird alternate bullshit dimension any longer than we have to-we still have the suitcase, right? Let’s go back to the sixties and fix what we broke. Easy.”

Five looks at her like she’s lost her mind. Which, she very well may have, he thinks briefly. “Look, I know you want to see Claire again, but you need to consider-”

“No.” Allison interrupts angrily, tears starting to fill her eyes. “You don’t understand at all. How the hell could you? You haven’t had anyone for years, but me? I’ve had people, people I care about-which might be a foreign concept to someone like you, but-”

“Right,” Five cuts her off in turn, unwilling to linger on the sting her words have caused. “I just need time to-”

“Time? Haven’t you had enough of that, already?” Suddenly the room is engulfed in complete and utter darkness and the Hargreeves go into high alert, trying to figure out where the hell that voice is coming from.

Could it be one of the Sparrow Academy heroes? Could they have followed them to the outskirts of town?

“Show yourself, you coward!” Diego shouts, knives at the ready to attack their intruder.

A flash of thunder illuminates the room for only a split second before the lights come back on and the Hargreeves find themselves frozen in place, unable to move even a muscle, try as they might.

Save for one: Five.

“What the hell...” he mutters, as he watches his siblings struggle to try and move from their positions.

“Now, Allison.” that same disturbing voice commands.

Allisons eyes go wide as her mouth begins to move without her permission and out come the words, “I heard a rumor you killed your brothers and sisters.”

They watch with dawning horror as Fives eyes roll to the back of his head and turn an off shade of blue before he seamlessly plucks Diegos knife from where it was embedded in the wall earlier and faces his family, where they stand, helpless.

“Shit!” Diego curses, trying in vain to move even a single digit.

Vanya tries to conjure her own powers but finds that she can’t for some reason. “Five...” she calls out, knowing it’s futile.

Five blinks over to Klaus first, who yelps in surprise, he barely has time to beg Five to reconsider when Five brings the knife down-

There’s boisterous screaming and panicked yelling and general chaos and Klaus is so sure this is it, that Five has plunged the knife straight into his heart and done away with him, until he opens his eyes and realizes nothing is protruding out of him...

Instead, Five has thrust the knife into his own leg. He’s breathing hard, his trembling fingers still hovering over the hilt of the weapon.

The disembodied voice booms, “Allison!”

And Allison curses, but she can’t stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. “I heard a rumor you stabbed me in the jugular.”

Fives eyes go pale blue for a second time and without even flinching he takes the knife out of his upper thigh and blinks so that he’s facing Allison this time.

They can all see him struggling, perspiring, fighting against the rumor as he brandishes the knife in one hand, raising it up above his head slowly.

Allison tries to let out another rumor, a contradicting rumor, perhaps, the way she had done when Five had been in front of Klaus, but again, the words get stuck in her throat.

Whatever being is in the room is in total control of her powers...

Allison feels something collide with her neck but it’s not the sharp sting of a knife she’s expecting. It’s Five’s forearm against her, protecting her from his own attack as he shoves the knife directly into his flesh. He’s panting now, with the force that it’s taken him not to obey her mind control.

“Kill them.” the voice demands angrily.

“Fuck you.” Five bites out through clenched teeth.

As if those were the magic words, the voice departs and the Hargreeves can feel their limbs and move about once again, the tense atmosphere dissipating.

“Holy shit!” Klaus gasps out, “What the fuck, Jesus!”

Five grunts as he removes the knife from his forearm and wields it threateningly. “Allison,” he practically begs, his voice strained. “Unrumor me. Now.”

Allison is more than happy to comply, hurriedly saying, “I heard a rumor you didn’t want us dead.”

The knife clatters as it hits the floor and Five collapses next to it a second later, exhausted and hurting something awful.

“Shit,” Diego grabs a bunch of hand towels from the bathroom and kneels down. “We gotta stop the bleeding.” He presses two towels against the stab wound on Fives forearm and Vanya grabs the rest to press against the one on his thigh.

Five tenses up beneath them, his face scrunching up in pain. “Fuck!”

“I saw a first aid kit in the lobby by the front desk, I’ll go get it!” Allison calls out, already halfway out the door in her haste.

“Should we move him to the bed?” Luther asks, hovering over his siblings, concern and anxiety eating away at him.

Diego curses. The hand towels are drenched in blood already. They need to stop the bleeding and soon, or else. “Elevate his leg.” he orders, letting Luther help Vanya try to stem the bleeding there. “Klaus, go get more towels from one of the maids if you can.” Klaus scurries to obey while the others continue to put pressure on Fives multiple injuries.

Klaus and Allison arrive back at the motel room almost simultaneously, one with a stack of clean towels in their arms and the other with a giant red box in hand.

With the extra towels and the supplies from the medical kit, they’re somehow able to stop the bleeding long enough to move Five up to the bed. Luther’s extremely gentle as he transfers him from one spot to the other.

When it’s time to stitch him up, Vanya and Klaus volunteer to do it. Five is too exhausted, both mentally and physically to pretend to be stoic about any of this. He throws his good arm across his face, shielding his eyes from the light.

“What do you guys think that was?” Luther asks the room at large, when the silence stretches on too long.

Klaus doesn’t look up from where he’s threading his needle on Fives thigh, replying dryly. “Yet another person place or thing that wants us dead?”

Diego scoffs. “It’s gotta be one of those Sparrow fuckheads. Who the hell else? I bet it was that goddamn cube-I still can’t believe dad adopted a fucking cube-Christ.”

“Whatever it was, it was in control of my powers.” Allison frowns deeply. “When I tried to unrumor Five nothing came out-even when I tried rumoring one of you into being able to move again, so that at least we would stand a fighting chance against our little serial killer over here, nothing.”

Vanya nods, “Same here. I tried to use my powers but it was like there was some kind of a block or something? Like when I was still taking those prescription pills.” She looks at Fives pale face-what she can see of it, from underneath his forearm-and risks the question, “Five, how did you manage not to....you know...?” As someone who’s had first hand experience being unwillingly rumored by their sister, she knows it’s not something one can easily brush off.

Quite frankly, it’s a miracle they’re all still breathing...

“Yeah, I thought for sure we were dead.” Diego walks over and playfully ruffles the top of Fives messy hair. “Good job not making yourself an only child.” he jokes, freezing entirely when in response to his teasing Five lets out what can only be described as a faint whimper.

“Five?”

“I almost killed everyone.” Five struggles to get the full sentence out, his breath hitching. “Fuck.” he curses, unable to stifle a sob. It’s a pathetically sad little noise, but it brings the rest of his siblings to his side immediately.

“Hey,” Allison kneels down beside the bed and places a careful hand on his knee. She feels him flinch underneath her. “You resisted my rumor-twice. Do you know how rare that is? You saved us.”

Five scrubs his face with the sleeve of his white button up shirt and finally uncovers his eyes. They’re red and puffy from crying, eyelashes wet with his tears. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.” he admits brokenly. “I can’t lose you guys again.”

“Shit Five,” Diego leans down and briefly touches their foreheads together, the palm of his hand cupping Fives head. “You’re not alone, we’re right here. Not going anywhere.”

Vanya nods determinedly. “That’s right. You’re stuck with us.”

Luther towers over the group with a faint but genuine smile. “You know, I always figured you loved us, but I guess I didn’t realize the extent until today.”

Five sniffles, wiping away more tears he can’t seem to stop from coming. “I would trade you all up for a decent cup of coffee.” he lies, feeling more exposed than he has in literal years.

Klaus smirks. “Nuh uh, no take backs, Fivey. You loooooove us.”

Five rolls his eyes but it doesn’t have quite the same effect it normally would, considering the fact that he is still very much crying.

Allison clears her throat, squeezes his knee again, this time to get his attention, and says, “And we love you. I’d ask if you know that, but honestly I think the answer would make me too sad.” she sighs. “Five, I’m really sorry about what I said before-I was taking all my frustrations out on you and I spoke carelessly, without thinking.”

Five shakes his head, overwhelmed. “It’s ok.”

“It’s not.” Allison insists. “Five, I don’t know if anyone’s said this yet, but I think it’s long overdue. I’m so happy to see you again. I missed you, you know. A ton.”

Five didn’t think he was childish enough to still need to hear such silly sentimental things. He’s not the type, he’s tried to convince himself. It’s not as though he was expecting some big tearful family reunion upon his arrival, after all. So he wasn’t crushed or anything when his return was met with little more than perhaps confused contemptment. He had things to do, apocalypses to stop and all that jazz.

That’s what he told himself, of course.

But it doesn’t ring very true now, not when he can’t help but let out another sob.

He’s too old for this, he thinks, as Diego pulls him gently to his side and Allison grabs hold of his hand.

He doesn’t need them to love him back, he thinks, as Klaus finishes taping up his wound with a tenderness only reserved for those he loves, as Vanya wraps gauze around his forearm with care.

He’s been fine all this time, he thinks, even as Luther says, “Good to have you back, Five.”

It’s good to be back, he thinks, turning his head so that it’s buried against Diego’s shoulder when he lets out another sob.

#tua #long post #fic #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #number five #the boy #hurt/comfort #five gets rumored #hargreeves family #hargreeves siblings

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Text

In which Martin and Gerry help Jon acquire a cat, among other things.

“Martin, look!”

A phone is shoved in his face; on the screen is a tiny black kitten sprawled on a carpet with the headline “Free to a Good Home!!” Martin knows where this is going.

“Finally time to bite the bullet, eh?”

“We could surprise him!” Gerry’s voice is animated as he waves his phone in the air. Martin loves when he gets like this, unguarded and sweet. “You know how stressed he’s been. Honestly, I’m shocked we haven’t gotten one already.”

“Well, he’s certainly been hinting at it.” Martin gestures broadly at the walls of the bookstore, decorated with various cozy knick knacks and art they’ve picked up at charity shops. There’s no less than three oddly majestic cat paintings along with a shelf of tiny porcelain felines, not to mention the gaudy clock that has cat breeds instead of numbers. Jon has...particular taste. “Not very subtle, is he?”

“Should I message them, then?” Gerry squints at the screen. “We met them at trivia a few months ago - Mara, the one with the-”

“Green hair, yeah.” Martin remembers the night rather fondly. Gerry usually spent most trivia nights scowling in the corner and making snarky commentary with Jon, but on that particular occasion he had a few drinks and was considerably more relaxed. He managed to charm half of the bar with his stories and wit while Jon stared on, adoration clear on his face. “But you know Jon would kill us if we didn’t let him have a say. You know how he gets, he needs to prepare-”

“-buy ninety toys-”

“-think up a ridiculous name.” They both laugh at that- Jon’s got a penchant for renaming their friend’s pets when he doesn’t think their moniker “suits them.” He’s gotten into more than one fight about it. “Text him so he doesn’t stay late, though. I’m not staying up until midnight again.”

“On it.”

_______

They hear Jon before they see him.

The door creaks open, alerting them to his presence as Jon lets out his usual long-suffering sigh (Gerry fondly calls this mood ‘The Bouchard Blues.’) His clothes are wrinkled and his eyes are barely open; from the slight indent on his face, Martin reckons he fell asleep at his desk again. Gerry meets him at the door, grabbing his bag and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Rough day, love?”

Another sigh, this one a bit more huffy. “Elias came in at half past four with a box of ninety random documents and wanted them all organized by tomorrow. Impossible, of course, unless I stay the night-”

“But you came home!” Gerry says it with a sort of wonder in his voice; Jon very rarely stands up to his boss, no matter how ridiculous the ask.

“W-Well, you said it was important,” Jon looks between them with large, worried eyes. Always assuming the worst. “It’s nothing bad, is it?”

“Jon, I thought the twelve reassuring texts and afternoon phone call put that to rest,” Gerry replies as he steers them towards the couch. “Suppose I should’ve just told you. I wanted it to be a surprise.” He unlocks his phone and scrolls until he finds the ad, handing it over to Jon.

His eyes immediately light up, alert and awake. “Cat!”

“Cat,” Martin agrees, settling down beside them. “We were thinking of getting one for the bookstore-”

“Of course,” Jon’s smiling that rare, bright grin and Martin melts just a little. “It’s only logical. And I do like black cats-”

“Damn it!” Gerry groans, startling them both. He throws his phone down on the couch, crossing his arms in a sulk. “Someone just claimed her. I knew I should’ve said something-”

But Jon’s already fishing his phone out, his smile not dimming in the slightest. “There’s a shelter not too far from here- I’ll see if we have to make an appointment. Martin, can you call Georgie? She’s got an excellent carrier for the Admiral, and she can probably recommend other necessities-”

They end up going to bed at midnight anyway.

________

“I still don’t see why we had to order so much,” Martin complains after another confirmation email lights up his phone. The credit card bill’s going to be astronomical this month. “Surely we’re overpreparing. We don’t have room for the deluxe cat tower in the shop, and we certainly don’t need one for the flat as well.”

“I assure you these are all necessities, Martin.” Gerry and Martin are both fairly tall, but even they have trouble keeping up with Jon’s brisk pace, sharing a fond look over his head. Jon managed to find them a Saturday appointment with a rather impressive combination of wheedling and charm. When it came to cats, Jon didn’t pull his punches. They made it to the shelter in record time and Jon burst through the doors, his next words full of self-importance. “We’re expected. Jonathan Sims.”

They’re led back to a large room by an amused assistant, Jon at the front of their little line. Martin watches as his eyes light up upon seeing the many cages that lined the wall; even Gerry seems a bit excited, though he tries to hide it by hanging back. Gerry’s never been much of an animal person; he shares Jon’s distaste of loud and jumpy dogs too unpredictable in their behavior. He only just started getting used to the Admiral, and that was through much prodding on Jon’s part. Jon’s love is surprisingly infectious.

Jon peers into each cage intently, answering every inquisitive noise with a prim “Pleased to meet you.” One of the first cages contains a fluffy brown cat with curious eyes and Martin stops to poke a finger through the door. “Walnut” (as provided by a helpful nameplate) does not respond, though she seems interested.

Jon’s already halfway down the row before he stops in his tracks, eyes trained on a large, grumpy ball of gray fur sitting right at the bars of the cage. He’s missing an eye, and he begins to growl as soon as Jon nears him.

“This one.” He declares, staring as if entranced. He hasn’t even touched it or attempted to pet it- they’re locked in some sort of silent standoff. Martin’s reminded of those romantic comedies Jon and Gerry hate, where couples lock eyes across the room and it's love at first sight. He surreptitiously takes a picture. Adorable.

“Jimmy?” The assistant inquires. Jon scoffs at the plainness of the name. “He’s been here awhile. Not very friendly, I’m afraid.”

“No, not Jimmy.” Jon offers up a hand, and the cat comes closer, sniffing at it with suspicion. After a few moments, he butts his head against Jon’s hand, earning a smile. “Lance Corporal.”

“No.”

Jon swivels around, eyes narrowing at Gerry’s words. It’s the first time he’s spoken and he’s got one eyebrow quirked up in amusement. It’s a good look on him. Jon, however, is having none of it and he puts a hand to his hip. “And why not?”

“It’s such a mouthful.” Martin has to agree; it doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. “I’m not going to call him that. What about Lance?”

Jon wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”

Martin sighs; Gerry and Jon get along like a house on fire but when they bicker, they bicker. He eyes the cat that’s now rubbing against Jon’s hand and purring; he hopes the its sudden geniality will extend to Martin and Gerry. Jon would pick a cat that’s just as prickly as he can be.

Martin gives it a good look, coming up beside Jon at ‘Jimmy’s’ cage. The cat immediately stops its gravely purr, it’s eye now trained on Martin. It’s unnerving, Martin never thought a cat could radiate authority but this one surely managed to. If any animal deserves a title, it’s this one. “What about the Captain?” he asks in a fit of inspiration.

They both turn to look at him; Gerry amused, Jon thoughtful. “Go on.”

“It’s a title, you always liked the naval ones.” Jon nods in agreement, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “He looks like an old sailor, very distinguished. I dunno, I think it’s cute.”

“The Captain,” Jon whispers in awe as the cat resumes rubbing against his hand. “Martin, that’s perfect. Inspired, even.”

He can’t help preening a bit. “Thank you.” Gerry rolls his eyes.

And then there’s the moment of truth- the assistant opens the cage door and Jon steps forward with all the solemnity of a man about to be knighted. He reaches out his arms and the cat lets itself be picked up, going limp as Jon brings it to his chest. He sighs in contentment, giving himself one more moment of bliss before he perks up and opens his eyes.

“Now pick yours.”

_________

Three. They’ve got three fucking cats.

Martin and Gerry immediately began to refuse, but Jon was insistent. “The Captain is obviously very partial to me, and I think you should have some say in who we adopt. If we each get one it eliminates any favoritism. It’s only logical.”

There was nothing logical about it. Three cats and three people in their tiny flat, or worse, destroying their bookstore. They didn’t have the space, the cats might not get along, it would be too expensive. But Jon wouldn’t hear of it, countering every point in a calmness that was borderline unnerving. Martin shot Gerry a pleading look; he’d gone silent after the initial refusal, content to let Martin do most of the arguing, but he just shook his head in amusement- he knew how this would end, and Martin did too. As the final nail in the coffin, Jon deployed the eyes and that’s how he found himself in the front of a taxi with a lapful of Walnut. She’s a friendly thing, instantly purring on contact and meowing whenever he turned away. Martin hadn’t the heart to turn it away.

Gerry took more time. He slunk around the cages and the cats seemed to sense his reluctance. But soon he came upon a small, sleek black cat, not unlike the one from the Facebook post. It was a tentative thing, barely coming to the edge of its cage to sniff at his fingers, but Gerry was determined, patiently waiting the fifteen minutes it took to get him to warm up. Martin didn’t point out the similarities between it and a certain goth, though he shared a knowing look with Jon.

“I’ve got it - the Unfathomable Void.”

“Dear God,” Martin muttered, rolling his eyes. So dramatic, the both of them.

Jon snorted. “That’s a bit much.”

“Okay, Lance Corporal.”

“Excuse me-!”

“Settle down, boys,” Martin put a hand on Jon’s shoulder, he looked liable to pounce. “If that’s what you want, go for it. But we’ll call him Void for short.” Gerry nodded, seemingly satisfied. Jon continued to scowl, though without any heat.

The cabbie was definitely not pleased at having to cart around three men and three cats. He muttered the entire drive while Jon bounced in the backseat, cooing at his companion. Gerry sat much more stoically, though Martin didn’t miss the tiny smile as the cat nipped at his fingers. Jon’s insistence on multiple supplies was starting to make sense now. He definitely planned this from the beginning, sneaky thing.

“Oh no,” Jon suddenly said upon entering their flat, struggling with the carrier in his hand. Martin’s starting to think he shouldn’t have picked such a massive cat. “I forgot this was for the bookstore!”

“Well, yeah.” Gerry sat his cage on the ground, kneeling down beside it. “I figured mine or Martin’s would do. The Captain’s not very friendly, Jon.”

“But what if they get lonely? We can’t split them up.” Jon’s eyes dart around the room, growing more conflicted by the second. “Perhaps we should keep them all at home.”

“There’s no room, Jon! And no one’s here during the day.” Martin surveys the room- the three carriers already seem to take up an enormous amount of space, not to mention the living creatures inside of them. And all of those packages, that damn tower…

“You can take them back and forth. Commute.”

“Christ, we did not think this through.” Gerry’s smiling even as he says it, watching as the Unfathomable Void slowly makes his way out, sniffing tentatively at the air. Walnut’s content to stay in her cage, and Martin tucks her in a corner away from the other two. Jon’s already got the Captain out, holding him in his arms and refusing to let him go.

“You’re right, we didn’t.” Jon agrees, tucking his face in the Captain’s fur. “We should’ve gotten four-”

“Fuck’s sake, Jon!”

“Let’s talk about this later, alright?” Gerry takes Martin’s place as the voice of reason, a rare occurrence. “We’ll keep them at home, let them get used to us, and then we’ll figure out the bookstore situation. No sense getting worked up about it now.” Jon sighs, cradling the mass of fur to his chest and plopping down on the couch. Martin’s sure they’ll be at it again tomorrow; Jon sniping as Martin tries and fails to put together a massive cat tower, Gerry groaning about whatever surprises the cats left for them in the morning. The next few weeks were going to be stressful, to say the least.

For now, though, he sits with his partners once again until midnight, watching their new additions roam about the flat and ignore each other. Jon frets, Gerry sighs, and Martin unsuccessfully attempts to steer the conversation towards anything but cats. By the end of the night, only Void manages to feel at home, curling up in Martin’s favorite armchair (much to his chagrin). Could’ve gone worse, Martin cheers himself with. They’ll get used to the flat. And the bookstore. Probably.

Later that night, once their partner’s asleep and snoring softly between the two of them, Martin turns to Gerry, borrowing Jon’s patented sigh.

“We’re gonna get a fourth cat, aren’t we?”

Gerry’s voice is just as resigned. “Yeah, reckon so.”

“Christ.”

-------

Others in the JGM series:

What We’re Given and What We Make

At the End of the Day

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28945809

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #jonmartin #jongerry #gerrymartin #christ this is a lot of tags #pointless fluff honestly #but fun #when i picture jon's smile in this fic its messisauce's art tbh #you know the one

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huihuiheart · 3 years

Text

Claiming - Hybrid! San

Navigation

Ateez Masterlist

Pairing: Tiger Hybrid! San x Female Reader

Genre: Smut + Fluff

Summary: Part 2 of Obvious - San’s heat is coming to an end and he’s finally ready to hear your explanation for the events that brought it on in the first place. He also realizes though that some of those feelings he had during the week weren’t just his heat talking.

Warnings: The implied cheating from part 1 is explained, unprotected sex, marking, dom/sub themes, oral (f! receiving), degradation, dirty talk, cursing, soft and hard dom San, biting, claiming, blood, slapping (one to the thigh).

Word Count: 2,884

Note: This was finished and edited on breaks between my first day of a new job, with only three hours of sleep in my body, so it might be a mess. If you have concerns or things that seem like they need to be fixed please send me an ask or pm to resolve it.

“A-All yours! I’m your filthy fucking slut! Your kitten! S-San please!” You wonder if you’ve done enough as he only curls his tongue into you once before pulling away again. When he’s flipping you over though and placing your hips on the highest part of the armrest to show your ass off you already know what he’s planning, “F-Fuck yes! San please, please fuck me so good! Show everyone who owns this pussy!”

San laughs breathlessly as he strips behind you, playfully spanking your ass as he teases his tip through your fold before gripping your hips harshly and suddenly thrusting all the way into you. Leaning down with a smirk he kisses the shell of your ear before whispering.

“Oh, I will, kitten. You’ll be dripping my cum for days.”

You stirred by the feeling of fleeting kisses against the sensitive marks littering your neck. Your quiet whimper makes San slow his pace, being more gentle in the way his lips and tongue soothe at the marks he so harshly left behind over the last few days.

“Are you already ready for another round?” You whine softly, slumber still deep in your voice as you don’t even open your eyes yet. San was definitely built for weeks like this whereas you...not so much, despite how pleasant it was.

San chuckles deeply, “I mean I am, but that’s not why I woke you. I hadn’t intended to wake you at all. You’ve done so well for me this week, but you’re so exhausted now I just wanted to let you sleep.”

You hum softly with a small yawn, “You’re oddly soft right now, is your heat over already?”

“Not entirely, but it’s pretty much passed. I might get a sudden flash or two of heat today and tomorrow, the worst is over though. I’m at least coherent again.” San brushes the hair out of your face as your eyes finally flutter open to look up at him, before he kisses you softly, “Though eating you out might help with that a little bit too.”

You snicker knowing his statement was actually a request, “Go ahead then, you woke me up anyway and I’m too tired to stop you.”

San hums teasingly, “More like too enticed to stop me.”

You roll your eyes, making San laugh a little as he moves to hover over you, gently nudging your bare legs apart. You’re clothed in only a shirt and some panties knowing anything more wouldn’t have lasted during his heat anyways...not that these often did either.

His hands ease up your thighs, inching closer and closer to your panties and the beginning of a wet spot that was forming. His thumb finding your clit through the thin fabric and rubbing slow circles onto it, easing your sensitive body into arousal once more.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s ready to go again.” San teases, nuzzling up your thigh until he reaches your panties. His tongue giving slow laps over the wetness seeping through the material, a moan low in his throat at your taste.

His heat is still spiking just slightly with you like this, so his hands are already moving to take your panties off. Going as slow as he can will with his heat making itself known still, not to tease for once though, simply to ensure your comfort after the last couple days of restless fucking.

San’s rough tongue is slow and gentle in its movements between your folds. Watching your face closely to take in how you were feeling. When he determines that you’re feeling good and it’s not too much he places a soft kiss on your clit before giving it some attention. His lips around your clit shrouding your whole body in sweet bliss. His goal is just to bring you over the sweet edge once and to do so gently, letting your tensed worn-out body release and finally relax some. Only lapping your release up for a little bit, not wanting to overstimulate you, just to clean you up.

“So good for me, kitten. Such a good girl.” San praises softly and you buzz at the praise drawing him up for a brief kiss.

“Does this mean we can finally talk about what happened?” You inquire with a quiet voice not wanting to push anything, especially with San’s heat still lingering.

San hums, “We can, but not yet. First I’m going to draw you a nice bath to relax and clean up in and then I’m going to feed you some breakfast. We can talk once I’ve made sure you’ve had a chance to recover.”

He kisses your forehead before going to do as he had said he was going to. Humming a soft tune as he goes, something that eases your worries about where you and he stood.

Leaning back in your seat after finishing a full meal without interruption for the first time in four days you were starting to feel much more recharged now. Thinking that San may have had a good point in wanting to clean up and eat properly first.

Resting your chin in your palm you watch him as he finishes up his own food and it makes him chuckle, “That eager to talk about it?”

“I mean...I’ve been anxious about it so kind of ready to get it over with. I’m worried about what you think of me.” You admit, leaning into San’s touch when you feel him cupping your cheek.

“I know I get jealous easily, but I trust you, my love. I know whatever explanation you have will be reasonable.” San encourages brushing his thumb over your skin.

“My brother is visiting, so I went to spend some time with him. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, so there was a lot of hugging involved.” You laugh a little when San’s brows furrowed in confusion knowing the scent wasn’t anything like yours or anyone in your family, “He was my foster brother. My family looked after him for a few years until someone adopted him...well before we were able to anyways. He comes and visits when he can, but it’s not super often. I was going to tell you about it, considering he wants to meet you, but it kind of triggered your heat, so we’ve not really got a chance to talk about that.”

San flushes a little rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah...we have been a bit preoccupied...but of course, I’d want to meet him! Though I am curious as to why he wants to meet me.”

“He said it’s because you’re important to me...and he says he can tell from how happy I am that you’re the one. So he wants to come to see if you have any wedding plans or anything I guess.” You laugh a little but notice how his ears perk up at the mention of weddings.

“Oh? It’s interesting you bring that up...cause my heat got me thinking about somethings.” San admits, blushing a slightly deeper hue now.

This time it’s you who reaches out to him, cupping his cheek in your palm and trying to calm him, “Well you can talk to me about it if you’re ready to. You know that.”

San nods softly, hand slipping over yours and turning his head to kiss your palm, “I just want to move too fast and scare you away or anything.”

“If you’re moving too fast I’ll say so, but I seriously doubt you’ll ever scare me away at this point. If that was going to happen it would have happened a long time ago.” You joke with him, trying to lighten the mood some and put him more at ease.

“Well we haven’t really talked about it too much, so for starters...hybrids don’t usually have a wedding as you would have. I mean...I’m not opposed to it of course especially for you and your family. I know how special and meaningful that is for you...but we take that step differently typically.” San explains, noticing how your face scrunches in confusion. You had done a lot of research about hybrids having San around and wanting to be familiar with his needs and what to expect, yet you’d never seen anything that you could think he could be talking about now.

“Well then what do you usually do? I want to know. If we were to have a wedding for me, then I’d want to do the equivalent for you too.” You encourage and he takes your hands in his carefully.

“Why don’t you hear what it is before making that decision, my love. It might not be so pleasant for you...like my heat you’ll be okay to handle it, but you weren’t made for it either. So if you don’t want to do it I understand.” San leans forward brushing your hair back and kissing your forehead softly, “For hybrids, we do something a lot less public...and a lot more intimate. Usually, we get the urge to do it while in our heat, but unless we really want that it goes away after our heat...that desire isn’t going away for me this time. I want it still.”

Your skin is a bit heated at the implications, but you still have so many unanswered questions, “Just tell me what happens San. It’s alright.”

“When a hybrid and the person who he wants to be with forever...to be his mate are...well...breeding. He claims her, right here...” San’s thumb brushes over the sensitive skin on your sweet spot, the very spot he loves to suckle his marks onto, “ It’s a bite simply put, meant to leave a lasting mark for anyone to see. It will hurt and it will bleed, but I promise it will make you feel good too and I’ll take care of you if you were to agree.”

You hum, processing his explanation for a moment, “And you want to do that with me?”

San nods almost immediately, “I do. I really...really do, but I don’t want to hurt you or do anything that would make you upset or uncomfortable.”

“Well, I’ll agree...on one condition.” You finally voice your opinion and it has San looking at you intently, waiting to hear whatever it was your condition would me. Ready to do anything in a heartbeat, “I want to do this in some sort of order that makes sense to me too...so propose first and once we’re engaged you can claim me in every way you want San.”

“Oh fuck...I totally forgot about the whole engagement thing...I have to get a ring, don’t I? ...fuck, I don’t even know where to start.” San whines and it makes you giggle.

“Who says we have to have the ring in hand for you to propose? You can ask without it...besides I’m sure my family would love to help you pick something out later.” You smirk at him, watching as it takes a minute to understand what you mean before getting giddy once again.

San scrambles down onto one knee, giggling a little himself, “Well then...Y/N will you marry me? Will you be my one and only? Forever?”

“Yes San, I will.” You giggle back, cupping his cheeks and leaning down to kiss him. Something he easily returns as he stands and takes you into his arms.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to become more intense, San’s heat flashing through him again at your agreeing and touch. It being enough to spur on another wave of desire, one that was obvious even to you as a human. In part because you knew him and in part due to the fact that his skin burned under your touch, his arousal building beneath his pants and pressing against your hip.

“Well go on then...if you want it so badly I’m not going to stop you San. I want it too, to be yours for the whole world to see...claim me San.” Your pleads have San growling, nipping at your lips before capturing them passionately once more. His hands groping at any part of you that they could get to as he gets more desperate to feel you again.

San’s hands move to grip your thighs, pressing against you before picking you up to carry you back to your bedroom. His tongue laving over your sweet spot, before giving it special attention with his lips, only breaking away to lay you back onto the bed.

“How sore are you, kitten?” San asks, hands toying with the hem of the shirt you were wearing as he watches your face.

“Not enough that you should hold back.” You smirk, knowing what he was asking and he smacks your thigh playfully, barely leaving a sting.

“Don’t get cocky with me, just because I’m trying to take care of my kitten. Besides you’re going to be sore again after this.” San’s words sound more like a promise than anything else as his lips find your throat again, seemingly fixed on it right now. His hands working your shirt up at a slow pace, not ready to leave the sweet spot his mouth was focused on again yet.

“I better be. I like having that constantly reminding me of you. Besides, the things that lead to me being so sore are the most fun anyway.” Your words make San smirk against your skin, before pulling back to pull your shirt off entirely.

“Oh is that so kitten? Does my girl like it rough?” San mocks leaning down to bite playfully at your nipple, “Want me to ruin you?”

“Fuck, yes...I do. I want it so badly.” Your desperation is growing along with his and making you both restless. San’s chuckle turns into a growl as he smells your arousal in the air.

San’s fingers slip down between your folds, seeing how wet you were before quickly pulling your panties down. His hand moves to return to your folds until you push it away, making his eyes snap up to your face sternly.

“Easy there tiger.” You snicker, “I’m not stopping you, it’s just...”

San’s brows furrow at your hesitance thinking maybe you were reconsidering this for now, until he sees how flustered you are instead of regret on your face, “What is it kitten?”

“Please no teasing...I’m already ready for you again, no prep.” You admit and San licks his lips looking down at your soaked folds.

��Oh, so that’s what it is hm? And here I thought I was the desperate one with my heat.” San taunts, making quick work of his pants and letting his hard cock slap against his abs.

You nod, biting your lip. Though soon it won’t matter what you do, San will have you screaming. San’s tip running through your sodden folds as something, before pushing into you. The feeling only more familiar after the last few days, but no less blissful. His hands gripping your hips, thumbs rubbing at your skin, before his touch gets firmer, holding you in place. His thrusts start slow, but deep and forceful, hitting all the right spots. Enamored with the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, leaning down and teasingly flicking his tongue over one of your nipples.

As his pace picks up his hands move to your thighs, pushing them open to give himself full access to your heat. His one hand moving up again, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing circles onto it. His other hand now gripping your jaw to make you look into his eyes. His lips moving in towards yours, growling against your lips.

“Fuck kitten, you’re so good for me. You’re going to take it, won’t you? You’ll cum and then take everything I give you like a good girl won’t you?” San’s questions are more of a demand knowing that you could, but there’s a desperation to them that lets you know he needs your answer too.

Your palms pull his face in for a kiss before moving his face to your neck again, fingers tangling into his hair and tugging to a nip and another growl.

"I...I'm going to cum for you San..." You keen, San thrusting harder, his fingers putting more pressure on your clit. Trying to distract you from the initial pain you would soon feel as he bites down onto your sweet spot the second he feels you cumming around him. The pain soon bleeds into white-hot pleasure coursing through your whole body, riding you through your orgasm, the more intense you've had yet as he cums inside of you.

Once you've both started to come back to reality San leans down, gently lapping at the wound as blood trickles out and onto your skin. Before giving you a short, sweet kiss.

"I'm going to clean that up and get it taken care of and then I'll take care of the rest of you kitten." He promises, kissing your forehead, " You've done so good for me you can rest now."

His words of assurance are all your body needs for you to start drifting off again. Only slightly registering the feeling of him cleaning and dressing the wound for you before you're entirely swept away into your dreams...dreams of the future. Of your future, with San.

Tags: @foreveryouaremystar

#san smut #san imagine #san x reader #ateez smut #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #fic:obvious

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bella-caecilia · 3 years

Note

Silver 😍

Thank you for the prompt! I tried to include as many symbols as possible but I chose object of all desires as the main theme. It turned fluffier than I intended (maybe too fluffy but… meh idc) and for all the suckers for angst out there, angsty drabbles will come as well 😉 This drabble is set somewhere in series 1.

Silver – Object of all Desires

The remaining hours and minutes of the day trickled by as the family spent the moments after dinner in the drawing room together. Today it was just Robert, Cora, and the girls. That didn’t mean there was more peace in the room than with Mama and Mrs Crawley present because Mary and Edith managed to perform arguments nearly as full of blows as the elder ladies.

Robert leaned his weight more fully against the mantelpiece. With his right hand, he swirled the amber liquid in his tumbler. His eyes only shortly locked with the lulling warm colour of his drink before they sought the enchanting vision across the room again. Cora sat calmly on the edge of a settee, her shoulders and back portraying a straight posture with seemingly effortless grace. Her soft gaze wandered through the room, her expression relaxed, unbothered by the hostile jabs between her daughters. For a moment it seemed to Robert as if Cora didn’t belong in the setting around her. Her sparkling gown reflected the lights from the chandeliers and highlighted her porcelain taint. Her mind was far away, her expression one of tranquil absence. Only her celestial appearance was placed in the room.

Her gaze went to the dark windows. With something like longing, she observed the dark gardens, bathed in the light of the waxing moon. Robert could easily picture how she wandered the grounds in her thoughts as an attempt to escape the disharmonic family evening. He did not begrudge her. Robert knew that Cora’s thoughts were always with her daughters, lately even more so. It occupied her – as it probably should – to ensure them a promising future, to find them cordial matches. But it wasn’t easy he knew, and Cora took this task very serious, in a different way, though, than Mama had done. Cora’s commitment was not mainly based on the obligation to secure the family’s decency (as was Mama’s main driving force) but on a simple power that stood behind nearly all her actions, and it was love. Simply love. Robert had needed a while to understand that her pure kind of love was a heaven-sent gift, not something foreign and improper. It was an unbelievable strength that he wouldn’t underestimate this easily again. But Cora’s love toward all people made matchmaking for their daughters a very absorbing task for her. To see her being able to tune out for a change was reassuring for Robert. She needed that pause once in a while.

“I think everyone might look for something else,” Sybil’s voice reached his ears. “It isn’t wrong if Mary wants something else from marriage than you, Edith,” she tried mediating her sisters’ argument.

Edith turned her face away but Robert could see her annoyed and resigned expression. She wasn’t entirely defeated but it was Edith’s way of miffed and hurt resilience that wasn’t particularly nice to witness. Somehow, it made people look away.

“I think I’ve had enough straining company today,” Mary declared. Her straight shoulders and slightly snobbish look build a tight wall like a Mary-own armour around her. She smoothed her skirts as she got up from the sofa and turned to Cora to nod at her, bidding her good night, but Cora was distracted. Distracted by the tranquillity of the night outside.

“Good night, Mama,” Mary said. Cora’s head turned around slowly, and it took a moment until a soft smile appeared on her features after her daughter’s words had sunken in.

“Good night, my dear.”

Sybil’s look sought Edith who still sat huffily in the corner of the settee.

“Well,” Sybil looked between the three remaining possible conversation partners. Apparently, all not very promising prospects. “I think I’ll call it a night too,” she concluded. “What about you, Edith?”

Edith got up without words, and the girls left the room one after the other.

“Good night!” Robert called after them and sat down his glass on the cold mantelpiece.

When the sound of the departing steps of three pairs of ladies’ heels was swallowed by the closing door, Cora rose from the settee and went to the high windows. She was seeking the direct light of the moon as if she was pulled there by a string. Robert followed her slowly because she exerted the same force on him as the moon did on her. Cora mesmerised him. Somehow, this night in particular. He felt a little silly that he couldn’t take his eyes off his wife. He knew her by heart. How could there be something that he hadn’t seen until now? But here she was, wandering in front of him wordlessly from window to window, in and out of the silvery light, and every time the moon illuminated her again it highlighted another part of her. Once it was the gentle slope of her nose, another time it was the fine hair in the back of her neck. And always, the light was captured and reflected by her glittery gown. Robert wouldn’t have said it was a silver gown when Cora had come down for dinner wearing this dress but it certainly was silver now. He couldn’t even tell if she had worn it already some time, and he wouldn’t even have said that it was a particularly pretty gown. An ideal dress for a simple dinner with family. But in the moonlight, it was transformed, and it shone, and it flowed around Cora’s curves nicely, and it lured him into Cora’s immediate vicinity.

When Cora halted and turned a little, Robert’s thoughts returned to reality, at least a little. He now saw where Cora had guided them. He didn’t know if it was her intention to bring him here as well, maybe she was still as absentminded as he was until now. She stood in front of the double-doored floor level windows that served as an exit to the gardens. Only slowly Cora’s hand found its way onto the brass door handle where it rested for a moment.

“Let’s go outside for a moment,” Robert proposed in a soft tone.

Cora turned to him, ripped from her thoughts. The look on her face showed that it hadn’t been her real intention to leave the house. She really had just been dreaming, wandering in the garden in her mind, just as Robert pictured her doing it several minutes ago.

The surprised look on her face turned into a gleaming smile. The corner of her mouth only twitched ever so slightly but the brimming of her eyes held all the more joy.

“Would you really like to?” Cora asked quietly. She provided him with an inquisitive look. She knew very well that Robert wasn’t up to adventures in the evening when they weren’t up in her room already. Nightly strolls through dark rooms or moonlit gardens were usually put off as hokum by him when it came up as a rare suggestion from her. Going out into the gardens was something they had done on long ball nights when they had been exhausted from all the social interactions and the dancing, and when they sought some time alone. Going out when they were at home was something Robert saw no sense in. ‘We could very well just go upstairs if we want to be alone, Cora,’ he had argued. And enjoying the outdoors, as had been her next argument, could be much better done by daylight, he had said.

So, Cora was all the more astonished when Robert answered without as much hesitation, “Of course, I’d like to.”

He reached out his arm and put his hand on hers on the door handle. Gently he pressed onto the back of her slender hand. Robert could watch Cora hold her breath while he slowly moved their hands to turn the handle and open the door. Her eyes didn’t leave his and her body was tensed in anticipation. At this moment Robert got the thrill of taking night walks. Maybe it was the intense presence of the nearly full moon that bathed everything in a supernal way, maybe it was Cora’s very own radiance. Robert enjoyed it one way or the other.

A fresh breeze met them when the crack of the door grew wider.

“It’s a beautiful night,” Cora whispered as she half-stepped outside with her covered hand still on the handle. Robert followed close behind her.

“It sure is,” he breathed into her ear, being close behind her back. He only shortly saw the silvery leaves of the box hedges in front of them when his gaze was pulled to the bobbing fine curls in the back of her neck. They had adopted a light silver sheen as well. The finest of hairs even seemed to have shining transparency, as if the light of the moon had sucked all its chocolate colour from it and had furnished it with its magical silver essence.

Cora walked into the gardens and her treads got lighter with every single step into the shiny coated green. But as soon as Robert lost her contact, because her hand slipped so easily from his, his heartbeat climbed and the gentle wind made him freeze and shiver. He hurried to follow her. She seemed determined to keep walking but her wandering look revealed that she had no specific plan.

With quick strides, Robert caught up to her. “Give me your hand, Cora,” he said in a hushed voice. He didn’t dare to speak in a louder tone. It seemed unbefitting for the bewitched situation. Cora looked at him over her shoulder, and her hand found his waiting one assuredly. Her soft grin was warm despite the cold light and it seemed to transport gratitude she had when it came to him initiating a display of affection. Whenever he showed his softer side, Cora was grateful, and Robert thought she shouldn’t have to be. She deserved all the affection and loving in the world. She should never think otherwise. Her conscious gratitude showed that it wasn’t self-evident. He squeezed her hand to ban any uncertainty at least for this moment. He hoped he would be able to continue being worthy for her overflowing love and, God, her radiant, seraphic self.

Cora pulled him through hedges here and onto tight paths there, and then they reached a tiny pond. It was a pond Robert regularly forgot existed. It wasn’t exactly spectacular. Only one single fish of the prior population the gardener had placed there had survived. It was a plump and ponderous companion. Its greenish-grey scales seemed dull at day. Now Cora approached the small body of water until her shins touched the edge of the pond so that she could kneel on it if she wanted to.

“Look at him, Robert,” she whispered. They were silent for a while. Only the gentle sounds of the wind caressed their ears. “That is his hour. It’s his time to shine.” She pointed to the fish as if he was a long-known fellow, as if she knew him. And the fish really shone. Like a magical creature, it made its sluggish rounds in the circular pond. It reflected the shimmering light at least as much as the slightly moved surface of the cold water. It was impressive but it was not for long Robert’s focus.

“No,” he replied lowly. “It’s yours. Your time to shine. You’re radiant, Cora.”

“Robert,” she breathed. Her eyes flickered over his face. Her cheeks darkened a little, as much as Robert could tell. “Something has gotten into you tonight.”

“I blame it on you.” His thumb caressed the back of her hand. “You’re charming me tonight with your spell.”

Cora chuckled. She shook her head in adoration. “I hope it isn’t only for tonight,” she teased.

“No, it’s not,” he said, and his free hand encircled her waist. “This spell has been over me for a very long time you have to know,” he explained.

“I see,” she nodded conspiratorially. One of her hands came to rest on the row of buttons on his upper chest. “If Carson gave you something special for a drink tonight, I’ll ask him to do it more often in the future.” Cora tipped her head to the side, and Robert could watch the long expanse of her neck exposed to the smooth light. Slowly he moved his head forward.

“That won’t be necessary. I have no doubt I’ll stay intoxicated long enough…” he whispered against the sensitive skin of her neck. His lips slowly descended onto the warm skin. He gave it a very light kiss before he exerted the ever so gentle suck on her skin. “… if you allow me to drink the alluring scent of your skin, my darling.” Cora sighed and closed her eyes. This was answer enough for Robert. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. He started planting a few kisses there but soon he found himself just breathing in her sweet warmth. Their joined hands were pressed between their bodies, Cora’s other hand hold onto Robert’s dress shirt and her head rested against his temple. The couple took their time relishing their nearness. And Robert didn’t exactly feel like doing more. Not out here in the light of the observant celestial body above them. In the warmth of her room, Robert could show Cora more of his affection, other aspects of it. But now their close embrace was enough.

A low splash reminded them of the presence of the fish and of their surroundings.

“I don’t want it to be over,” Cora whispered as quietly as the wind. Robert could only catch her words because his head was just beside her lips.

“Shh,” he tried to soothe her.

Even if this moment of pure magic was momentary – it had been their young years that had consisted of so much of this magic – and if tomorrow the daily life with its struggles and triviality would return, this moment right now would be relished fully. Robert felt that it wasn’t a temporary glare, it was real magic. He just had to look at Cora to know.

#idk know how i feel about this drabble #cobert fanfiction #cobert drabble #cobert #robert crawley #cora crawley #s1 #downton abbey fanfiction

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feeling-weirdy · 3 years

Note

Prompt - Vision and Wanda have a discussion about having family and children, set during the time between CW and IW.

It was pure habit at this point.

At the end of their walks, Vision would take Wanda around the nearby playground that was just outside of the hotel they frequented. Her face would light up seeing the children play, sometimes stopping to watch them for several minutes. The look on her face was unmistakable. Even as a synthezoid, he knew full well what she was thinking.

And the very knowledge of this broke his heart.

He couldn’t give her what she wanted. She had to have known that.

Vision was sure to give her the space she needed and allowed her to enjoy the activity of what she called ‘people watching’ from the sidewalk. From time to time, one little boy, in particular, would call her over to play and the pain that Vision felt deep within his chest cavity grew to a level he did not know existed.

He sat casually on the park bench, eyeing the love of his life with uneasiness and apprehension as she lit up in a way that he had never noticed before. They had talked about a great many things during their short times together, very rarely actually touching on a possible future together. Wanda had made it known that she wanted to focus on living in the moment and would quickly shrug it off were he to ever bring it up. The action, which he was sure she meant to help ease his mind but instead sent the wheels in his mind into overdrive.

Waving at him from the middle of the playground, Wanda looked positively happy and Vision did his best to mimic her expression. Forcing the corners of his mouth to tug into a distinct smile that was sure to fool her into thinking he was doing okay on his own. The frown that immediately replaced her features told him that he failed. Wanda quickly handed the ball back to the little boy and walked briskly across the playground to the exact bench that Vision had occupied.

Her head fell to the side, worry filling her eyes as she carefully watched him.

“You doin’ okay over here?” She asked, refusing to sit so that she could watch him clearly. Vision smiled at her, folding his hands in his lap as he leaned back against the bench.

“Of course, whatever gave you that idea?”

Wanda’s face fell, her lips tightening against her face while he responded. “Because I know you...and you’re not a very good liar. What’s going on?” Vision sighed softly, a quiet chuckle escaping from his lips. During their time together, she had become more intuitive when it came to how he responded to her. She had become well adept at picking the small mannerisms that seemed prominent across his features. He was unable to hide that from her, despite his wishes for more tact.

Vision’s eyes fell to the ground, the forced smile instantly disappearing as he struggled to keep himself from spilling over. He wouldn’t be able to stay silent were she to keep prodding. She always had a way of pulling things out of him regardless of what information that may be.

“I’d rather not ruin your afternoon with your new friend.” He nodded back toward the boy who had instantly forgotten about Wanda and had instantly found a way to entertain himself as he played by himself.

“Spill.” Wanda’s eyes sharpened, reaching down to take hold of one of his hands and recapturing his attention. “You don’t have to keep things from me, you know?”

“I-” Vision stopped himself, nodding curtly. He pushed himself up to his feet, wrapping her arm around his and leading her away from the screaming children. They were going to need more privacy if they were going to have this serious of a conversation, and he was more than happy to pull her away from the source of his fear. “Walk with me, please.”

Wanda exhaled, watching him intently as he pulled her to the side. “Vis, you’re kind of freaking me out. What’s bothering you all of a sudden?”

“Wanda...” Vision started, unsure of exactly where was the best place to do so. Surely she knew, but it had to be said. Out loud. “Do you ever wonder about our future?”

Relief washed over her face, squeezing his hand as she gazed up at him. “Sometimes...but, we’ve talked about this. Is that what’s gotten you so worried?” The smile that graced her face was almost heavenly, a blissful happiness that was no doubt connected to the notion that they would be able to spend the rest of their lives together. Vision could feel himself getting lost in her beauty over and over again. She deserved far more than what he was able to give her.

“Those were always playful banters rather than serious conversations,” Vision reminded her, running a smooth finger along her forehead to pull a loose strand of hair out of her face.

“I suppose so...” She trailed off, chuckling softly as she ran a finger along the false skin that covered his forearm. “So what...you want to have a serious conversation right here in the park?”

“I just thought that a home...of some sort would be beneficial for us...one day.” Vision struggled with his words, a familiar process that never seemed to go right for him.

“I home of some sort would be great.” She giggled, reaching up to place a small kiss along his lips. “The Accords make things a little difficult on us, but we don’t have to have this conversation right now.”

“On the same note...” Vision refused to let the conversation die down. She must have immediately sensed where he was going because the smile on her face rapidly disappeared.

“Vis...” The warning was obvious, but he was far too concerned about their future together were they to keep putting this off.

“On the same note, c-children would be...” His words trailed, face falling at the very mention of it as allowed his fingers to trace the length of her arm. Her warmth brought him comfort, even during his lowest moments.

“We don’t have to talk about this right now,” Wanda bit back at him, her face growing hard while she attempted to avoid his gaze.

“No, I feel we must.”

“Stop...” Her teeth grit together, tucking her arms against her chest and pulling away from him slightly. Her voice was soft and hurt as if she were worried to continue.

“Wanda...my body is purely synthetic as you’re well aware. Were you to wish for children...” Vision pressed on regardless of the way her face contorted against his words. This needed to be said and he would not back down this time. “I would be unable to provide you with that joy were that to be what you truly desired.”

“What makes you think I want that, hm? I’ve never said...” Her words sounded angry, but the look in her eyes told him all he needed to know. Tears threatened to fall, causing her eyes to turn glassy as she glared up at him.

“I’ve seen the way you look at those children out in the field. It doesn’t take a synthezoid to figure out what’s running through your mind,” Vision explained.

“We’re not talking about this.” Wanda turned away from him, starting her trek forward to leave their discussion at that.

“Wanda...I must speak.” He continued, causing her to stop in one sudden motion. “Please, just listen to me. Your happiness means more to me than the Earth itself. If I can’t provide you with...If I can’t...”

“Please stop...” Wanda's voice softened, slowly closing the distance between them. Her fingers touched his chest, tracing lines along the texture of his sweater. Her eyes followed her fingers, clearly struggling to pull herself together. In hope of soothing her worries, Vision raised his hand to her cheek, gently running his thumb along her skin. “I don’t need children to be happy, Vis. As long as I’m with you, that’s all I care about. I don’t see any reason why we can’t just enjoy our time together and just enjoy it.”

“The future may say otherwise," he chuckled.

“Then we’ll figure it out. I’m fine. If I can’t get my fill at the neighborhood park, then there are many ways we can have children without actually having children.” Confusion filled his mind as she spoke, uncertain as to her meaning. “Adoption...surrogacy...we can figure that out too. When we’re both ready and not right now. Together.” A smile stretched across her face, reaching down to slip her hand into his grip.

“Very well. Together, then.”

“For now...all I want is you. Can’t that be enough?” Her words seemed genuine, but he couldn’t stop the worry that continued to eat in the back of his mind. At some point in her life, she was bound to want more and there was only so much that he could provide for her. The heaviness of that thought weighed on his mind, but if she insisted that she was happy with how things were, there was no way he could refute that fact.

“Of course, my love. My heart and my entire being are yours.”

Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!

#scarletvision #wandavision #the vision #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #rini drabbles #CW to IW #not sure why this took so long but I hope it was worth the wait

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enderspawn · 3 years

Text

dream smp asagao au, aka the very specific high school au

also aka the post thats very self indulgent for me and maybe 3 other people.

in short: its a dsmp high school au based on the game asagao academy, where everyone is part of a gaming club and compete against one another in tournaments. more in depth info about the AU/Asagao itself, as well as more info about the plot and roles of the AU itself.

Asagao Academy Basics

So to start, let’s cover the basics: what is Asagao Academy. ….well, an old Youtuber dating sim game (which, despite unfortunately including some fairly questionable CCs, IS still really good and well written and I recommend it) But what is it for AU purposes?

Asagao Academy is a highly elite world-wide boarding school set in Japan for those who are either rich enough to afford it, or those skilled enough to get scholarships. Within the game, there are two main clubs: Normal Boots and Hidden Block. They’re both gaming clubs, and joining is seen as super exclusive since they’re ALSO the most popular people in the school.

The two clubs compete with each other in various tournament events with specific categories. For example: Satch (from NB) and Jimmy (from HB) both compete in the “Tech and Invention” category, where they have to create/invent something related to gaming and have it judged at the event like a science fair. Meanwhile, Jared (from NB) and Wallid (from HB) both compete in “Dance” aka DDR and the person with the highest score wins.

The other categories featured in game include: Puzzle games (like Bejeweled or Tetris), Video Game Trivia, Pinball, Retro Platformers, a three-person fighting game, and 100% completion speedruns. So tldr; the categories can be kind of fiddled with and be whatever you want them to be, because even the original ones are pretty wack.

Also, there’s no rules against competing in multiple categories— in fact, most of the HB members in game do! It’s more about balancing time and practicing for them alongside school and other activities.

The winner of the competition is the team/competitor(s) with the most total wins.

Another thing to note: despite competing as clubs, they’re all actually pretty good friends. It’s all lighthearted and fun in the end, hell the leader of the opposing club even helps the main character join the main club just because he wants a decent challenge.

Speaking of… the main character! Hana Mizuno! I don’t have any current plans to include her in this AU (a la new dating routes), but I wanted to mention her for a few reasons.

For the main reason: her hair. Even as soon as she shows up, Mai (her best friend and roommate, who can break the 4th wall) immediately calls her out for her hair for looking like a main character which as we learn… isn’t an exaggeration. She’s literally a born protagonist, thus being born with naturally pink hair and a tragic backstory. Not only that, but other people are also born protagonists with pink hair as well— she isn’t an exception.

About the AU -- Revolution Era

A few things to note: in this au, when I first drafted it I… wasn’t looking to include 20+ people. I cut a lot of characters, but instead working with the idea that they’re still THERE, they just… don’t compete? Either they aren’t in the club and are just friends with the members, or they’re members who just don’t compete professionally. It’s nothing personal against those CCs and tbh as times goes they may get added more, but for now they’re just in the BG vibin.

It covers a really basic retelling of s1 for most of the planned au. It starts with One Club: the Dream Team. Members include: Dream (sophomore), Sapnap (sophomore), George (junior), Wilbur (junior), Eret (junior), and Fundy (freshman).

For reasons, possibly just as a goof or spite towards their American counterparts, Wilbur declares independence from the Dream Team and makes his OWN gaming club: L’Manberg. He takes Eret (a close friend from his grade) and Fundy (the freshman he immediately adopted) with him, causing the two teams to be 3v3.

But Wilbur’s got a dastardly surprise up his sleeve: TOMMY, HIS YOUNGER BROTHER (bc I am nothing if not a dedicated crimebros stan), AND TUBBO. They’re both too young to actually attend Asagao yet, but theres no age rules in the actual competitions so its fair play. They’re Wilbur’s secret weapon. After all, a 5v3 where the team with the most wins wins the competition? That’s a massive advantage.

… we all know how this goes though don’t we. Wilbur’s day be so fine, then BOOM, Eret betrayal 😔

In this case Eret feels it’s a LITTLE unfair to blindside them like that, plus Dream promised to make him the Leader of the Dream Team and, yknow, that kind of stuff DOES look good on resumes, so…

TLDR; Eret rejoins the Dream Team crew, as well as informing them of Wilbur’s plan with including Tommy and Tubbo and becomes leader. They’re still letting Dream and Co. basically actually do the leading, they don’t care that much, the title is just nice. L’Manberg cusses her out and promises to hold a grudge, but it’s all in good fun. After all, they’re just teens goofing around and playing. The clubs are again 4v4.

Dream tells the L’Manberg club that they can separate, sure… under one condition. They have to win the competition. If they lose, they have to rejoin the Dream Team club.

L’Manberg accepts, but come competition day… they lose. Tommy outright challenges Dream post awards to a speedrun competition for L’Manberg instead. …which Dream professionally competes in, and Tommy DOESN’T.

He loses, but he puts up a good fight despite having little to no actual practice put in, so Dream “grants” L’Manberg their “Independence”. (In this au, instead of being like… weirdly obsessive over Tommy, it’s a lot more “he sees himself in Tommy and wants to support/mentor him” and a “friendly rivalry” kind of deal bc its a damn HIGH SCHOOL AU)

So L’Manberg can be it’s own club! …Next year, when Tommy and Tubbo actually attend, since Wilbur and Fundy aren’t allowed a two person club.

About the AU -- Election Era

SO time skip! Congrats, everything up to now has been BACKSTORY. It’s now the next school year, with two main clubs (I’ve tried to keep them fairly balanced, which is why not all CCs are featured, sorry!)

Dream Team club:

Dream - junior

George - senior

Sapnap - junior

Eret - senior

Punz - junior

BBH - senior

Awesamdude - junior

Ponk - junior

L’Manberg club:

Wilbur - senior

Tommy - freshman

Tubbo - freshman

Fundy - sophomore

Schlatt - senior

Quackity - junior

Niki - sophomore

Jack - sophomore

(Also fun fact! Their grades are loosely based on the CCs actual ages! …Except Fundy, who got Baby-fied to fit the “Wilbur’s Kid” joke, and Eret bc it fit better to be the same age as Wilbur I thought. Oops HEKANDNSN)

So, for whatever Reason (listen this was an au I made in like one night when plagued with brainrot, it’s not all figured out), L’Manberg holds an election. Maybe it’s related to Wilbur wanting L’Manberg to be meaningfully different from Dream Team, maybe it’s a joke, idk!

…. SOMEHOW, Schlatt wins. Which ticks off Wilbur a lot. It’s his damn club, and the whole point was to avoid Americans, tf?? The two start to feud a lot and it threatens to split the club entirely via ppl taking sides. Worse, it means people aren’t practicing for the competition.

All while this is happening, there’s a new intrigue building. Dream catches word of an infamous player in the area, someone known to win entire competitions against teams of people all by HIMSELF. A man with bright bubblegum pink hair called Technoblade. That’s right, literal universe-assigned protagonist Techno. If Dream could enlist him, there’s no doubt in hell they’d be able to beat L’Manberg.

L’Manberg hears of him too and works to try and enlist him as well, so he basically gets courted by both clubs trying to get him to play for them to mixed results. He’s pretty chill vibin by himself, so what’s in it for him? (….I don’t know, remember how this is a WIP au I worked on once?)

Eventually, a teacher named Phil (who’s been the honorary sponsor of the L’Manberg club) gets pissed at Schlatt and Wilbur’s fighting and bans both from competing (aka this AUs version of them dying). Which fucking SUCKS for L’Manberg. They’re now going 6v8 with a wildcard player who’s undeclared on which side he’ll join, if at all.

… honestly, that’s as far as I got. Theoretically, Techno joins L’Manberg to reflect Pogtopia and they win. I never had plans to go into s2 due to its darker theme, but there are definitely changes that could (and might?) be made for the s1 plot just so it flows better.

I already had to shift Wil and Schkatt’s “deaths” to fit, unless I were to have them LITERALLY make a new club. Maybe Schlatt uses his power as Club President to make them work with Dream Team (to the point it basically merges the clubs). Sure, they might be guaranteed to win now but it removes the competition and fun as well as the spirit of OG L’Manberg. So then Wilbur rebels and makes his own club AGAIN, calling it Pogtopia with the intent to get L’Manberg back. Then Techno, intrigued with this group of like 2-3 ppl going against a team of like 13ish people, decides to join them. Idk! Alternative possible plot based more closely on s1 I guess!

I’m gonna add a list of characters in full with their age, their club, and what they compete in (if it’s already brainstormed, most ppl are unknown) below

Character List

dream (DT) - junior - speedrunning

george (DT) - senior - coding/tech and invention

sapnap (DT)- junior -

eret (DT) - senior -

wilbur (LM) - senior - rhythm game/guitar hero-esque

tommy (LM) - freshman - (possibly pick up speed running during election arc?)

tubbo (LM) - freshman - chess

fundy (LM) - sophomore - coding/tech and invention

schlatt (LM) - senior - he never actually declares what he plans to play and then gets banned anyway, aka no game kekw

quackity (LM)- junior - dance

niki (LM) - sophomore -

jack (LM) - sophomore-

punz (DT) - junior -

bbh (DT) - senior -

awesamdude (DT) - junior -

ponk (DT) - junior

technoblade (SOLO) - junior - multiple categories

FINAL BIT

here’s some scraps for ppl who know Asagao already as well as small bits I didn’t bother to write up any further

- Karl, much like Mai, is ALSO aware of the 4th wall and has time travel powers because of it.

- Purpled (undecided if he’s a solo player like Techno or has his own team he competes with that’s not a formal club) plays Literally Bedwars in competitions

- Callahan is the Dream Team club sponsor, Phil is L’Manberg’s club sponsor

- Karlnapity is real and canon bc I say so

- both for balance/laziness, every person only competes in one category. also bc it makes Techno that much more Protagonist-y that he does

- I made this AU in like February man idk I’m just vibin

- Fuck I never even included Ranboo huh

#dream smp #mcyt #asagao au #og post #pwease read this you dont have to know asagao that much i swear #anything you do i explained plEASE fjdskfjl #asagao academy

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lady-literature · 4 years

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A Miraculous DC Crossover

ALL RIGHT!!

I’ve been sucked into this unholy sub-fandom and I have thoughts okay? lots of them. Almost none are coherent and I don’t care. I have no plotline to write a fic but by the gods do I need to get out all my ideas.

Behold:

the Salttm

Lila, obviously. But she’s a petty nuisance at best, and an annoyingly competent akuma to fight at worst. manipulative, but not really dangerous ya feel?

Alya. which like, home girl probably doesn’t deserve but like,,, the drama??

CHLOE REDEMPTION YOU COWARDS

She and Marinette become surprisingly good friends (because I love that for both of them and you can pry it from me cold, dead hands)

Nettie-bug and Queenie

They pick on Adrien together

Mari’s friends Protection Squad That Don’t Take No Shit

Adrien

Chloe

NINO BITCH HE DESERVES MORE LOVE TBH

Alix?? Probably

Luka obvi

Felix (PV)?? Or does Marinette have enough emotionally constipated boys in her life?

(Answer: no. no she does not.)

Nath? He be a good fox tbh. creative and sneaky boi

Kagami!!! I love her

They’re all heroes because I say so.

Felix (Sparrow) is an honorary member even though he doesn’t have a miraculous

He handles PR and other background things along with Chloe

Joined up a few years back when Parisians were getting a bit too critical of the heroes

No Hawkmoth b/c fuck that guy

He existed, just not anymore. Bitch got yeeted

There’s other villains in town now. After Hawkmoth’s defeat other metas/supervillains looked at Paris and was just like, ‘free real estate?”

So now the Miraculous Team are Paris’ Actual Full-Time Hero TeamTM… yay.

Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Abielle (or like, Wasp/Yellow Jacket idk Chloe changes her name because ~identity stuff~) are the core three team. like, the wonder woman/batman/superman trio of the MTeam.

Nath is called Reynard Ambre b/c I love him

The public knows he exists but he’s never seen in battle and no pictures exist.

but there are plenty of instances where Paris knows he out mucking around because those akuma battles always get really weird.

Marinette be the guardian?

Guardian in training

Along with all the other holders b/c jesus. Give the girl a break.

Yeah. I like that Idea. All current holders are training to be guardians as well, but Mari’s going to step up as Guardian Supreme when Fu steps down.

Hero fashion!!!

The Miraculous Team is all decked out in their own merch like 24/7

Rarely is it thier own hero persona tho

Not because of like,,,, secrecy or anything. Just because they’re all nerds who love each other

Marinette is the lead producer of Miraculous Merchandise. It’s like,,, her BrandTM It was completely unintentional too

(Adrien and Chloe financially support her work tho. She designs, makes a prototype, and has her two blondes get others to replicate it)

Half of Paris is wearing her without knowing it

(Go MDC! get it girl!)

She totally makes Gotham inspired outfits because what else would she do????

Don’t get her wrong, most of Gotham’s fashion sense royally pisses her off but it’s fun and hey, supporting her fellow heroes ya know?

She wears a Robin hoodie after being officially acquainted with both Damian and Robin (separately of course)

Damian chokes on something, probably his own tongue.

It confuses Nettie. But then she thinks maybe he’s a fan too? She offers to make one for him but he steadfastly refuses much to his brothers’ amusement.

Might make a robin themed dress?? If so, she crosses paths with Robin when she does, thoroughly embarrassing her and almost sending poor Dami into a crisis.

Rogues Gallery

She makes a lot of designs off the rouges gallery because like, supporting people trying to get better??? also they’re some of the few who’s aesthetic aint shit?

She can’t make all of them because she ran out of time, so the rest get posited up on her Instagram and MDC blog (that’s run by Tikki mostly. She’s a great secretary and gets bored in Mari’s purse all the time)

Everyone is very flattered

Harley, if she ever finds it, immediately commission all pieces and wears them around Gotham don’t @ me

Daminette obvi

Marinette meets him and is just like ‘wow, you’re horrible. I want five’

Marinette, in the group chat later: so I met Kagami and Felix’s love child today

Kagami and Felix, seconds apart: I would never stoop so low

immediately after: Hey what the fuck? Rude

Nino: Nettie, dearest, sunshine, light of our collective lives and reason I breathe, what the fuck

Adrien: Kagami, my love, how could you? the Betrayal

Chloe: ew

Luka: Send pics or it didn’t happen

Nath: [insert the ‘right in front of my salad?’ meme]

Whenever they cross paths as Robin and Mari, he’ll just like,,, appear from nowhere hanging upside down spiderman style. Mari finds it endearing but she also wants him to stop scaring the shit out of her

Nicknames, because I have an unhealthy obsession with them, alright?

Misc Mari names: Bug, Bugaboo, Buginette, Madame President/Colonel (when the Team’s being cheeky), Princess, Marigold, Nettie (by like, Nino and Alix)

Jason calls her Pixie-pop

The bird boys call her Nightingale/Mockingbird in like, honor of her being a kickass civillian

Mari refers to them as ‘the flock’ (and bird-brains after getting to know them better)

Damian calls her: Starling, Habibti, ya qamar(my moon), malaki (angel), ya wardati(my flower) (b/c like, angel’s cute an all but I just think Damian’s way more dramatic than that tbh. he’d put thought into his nicknames)

Mari calls Damian: mon soleil (my sunshine) (because symmetry and also Mari thinks she’d hilarious), Birdie, petit oiseau/oisillon

I like the idea of Jagged being a native Gothamite tbh

it’s just so fun honestly???

He’s probably the reason the MTeam are in Gotham in the first place? maybe? anyway, the class is there, right? right.

Kagami, Luka and Felix are all holding the fort down in Paris. Ain't no akumas but sometimes they need backup so when certain heroes need to disappear, Nath has Trixx set up an illusion of whichever one so they can slip away with the horse miraculous.

Mari’s the one who has to leave the most because she’s still Paris’ damage control, so like,,,,, ya know.

Mari doesn’t get left behind, at least not on the first day b/c come on people! She has plenty of friends in class watching out for her and a semi-competent teacher who does care even if she’s non-confrontational to a fault.

She does eventually become separated from the group. Half because of Lila and half because she’s always fucking late and got distracted.

She actually runs into one of the civilian batfam in the first place because the class was allowed an hour or so to wander around the shopping district or whatever to explore/buy things/get food. They just needed to return to the meetup spot at a certain time but Mari is like ten minutes away when it’s five minutes to the meetup

So she’s just… fucking booking it and completely takes out this trained vigilante without trying to.

Mari, as she’s groaning on the ground, tangled around a boy: By Kwamii, I thought my luck was supposed to be good Tikki.

That or like, the subway doors close before she can get on them and the rest of the class ends up ahead of her leaving her to get caught up on some bullshit in the next train or smth.

Oh, like. Of course it’s her train that gets held hostage. Wonderful.

(Later, Mari will rant at Tikki about her luck. A common conversation between the two tbh.)

This could be where she officially meets the Batfam as the Batfam. Or, like. A couple of em, at least.

Marinette getting serial adopted by the whole goddamn batfamily because i will die for this trope tbh i dont even care

The Robins nickname her Nightingale before they realize she’s Ladybug

They still call her that after but it’s not with the intention of making it her hero name anymore

Her and Alfred are def bros you don’t understand

Actually, Gina and Alfred are old friends. Mari totally knows Alfie before the bat fam and calls him Poppy/Pépé

which floors the batfam because what? Since when does that happen???

Alfred and Mari never, like, actually met in person before, but video chats exist and Gina def talks about the two to each other so it’s like they may as well know each other.

I also like the idea of Alfred being a former holder, probably the peacock. I would adore that

Just,,,, so many fun hero shenanigans

Yeah sure. The batfam are super detectives and have a history of figuring out people’s identities in no time at all. Whatever. Where’s the drama in that though? The showmanship?

Fuck canon, the Miraculous all have glamours because magic bitch and it plays fucking hell on the Batfam and all their shit

Every single Batfam member is simultaneously pulling their hair out because they don’t know who these heroes are???? Why can they figure them out?? Confusion???????

Miraculous team is just…. Straight up laughing at them. The poor dears.

That one gag where it’s a well-known secret that Mari has connections to every Parisian hero and is basically their own personal catering service/comfort place.

Also, it’s the worst kept secret in Paris that Mari is Multimouse

None of the MTeam have confirmed that rumour but they also don’t deny it.

they actually started the rumour. If all of Paris thinks Mari’s the mouse, a temporary hero, no one’s going to think she’s Ladybug/or that she’s an easy target to go after

chloe actually came up with that one

Mari meeting all of Damian’s ‘associates’ (ie pets)

She adores all of them and they her.

Especially GOLIATH, why isn’t he talked about more honestly???? He’s GREAT

She meets Goliath as Ladybug and Robin is just… so done with him??? You are supposed to be a fearsome beast and a professional why are you rolling over and expoSING YOUR STOMACH??? Meanwhile, Ladybug is just: Awww! Who’s a good boy? Who’s the best boy? You are! Look at how handsome you are! Cute widdle baby-

Miraculous Team hanging on the roof of their hotel kinda chilling

Maybe having a debate about doing some free-running/parkour?

Also maybe about whether or not they should be heroes while in Gotham

MT being like, why can’t we go and stop an armed robbery? we can help!

“Gotham already has very active heroes-”

“Vigilantes!”

“-whatever. I don’t want us stepping on any toes. This isn’t our terf and Batman’s known for being strict about Metas rolling around here.”

“We aren’t Metas though.”

“I don’t think he’ll enjoy splitting that particular hair, Nino. Just- not unless lives are at stake, okay? Emergencies only.”

“Yes, Colonel Ladybug.”

This debate most def gets crashed by batfam and confusion ensues upon both sides

batfam didn’t hear anything, they’re just really confused about these french kids hanging out on a roof in Gotham

Just.... yes. all of that. I have like, more but those are not organized or even remotely coherent. here you go! I might write for this but I already have other fics rn so... it wouldn’t be for a while. and as I said, I have no plot.

take this though, i guess. *throws confetti*

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snowbellewells · 3 years

Text

CSSNS20: “A Cottage by the Sea” ~ the Epilogue

** A grateful Thank You to @searchingwardrobes once more for this gorgeous cover art!!

** Thank you as well to the @cssns20 event and those who have stuck with this story despite my halting and glacially slow posting schedule. You’ve reached the happily ever after at last! :)

Summary: Princess Emma has always been drawn to the shores of Misthaven, where the sea meets the shore near her parents’ castle. When an unknown boy washes up on the sand, with eyes as fathomless and blue as the waters that brought him to her, he soon becomes Emma’s best friend, her partner in crime, and her other half. But the tides give and the tides take away, and as her blue-eyed boy sails in her father’s navy and risks all in defense of those who made him family, unexpected danger and challenge will try to tear them apart, and might well show him just where he came from that day he first appeared to her from the sea…”

From the beginning here on Tumblr or on AO3 ~Epilogue ~

When they could finally bear to part from each other (some hours later, if Emma was honest, a blush flooding into her cheeks upon reflection) they made their way toward her parents’ castle. With Killian’s navigational knowledge and natural instincts, not to mention Emma’s lifelong penchant for wandering the beaches and hilly paths around her kingdom whenever she could do so, it wasn’t long before they could see the familiar spires and turrets rising into the sky in the distance ahead of them.

Despite putting themselves back together as presentably as possible, little could be done for the soaked and rather bedraggled state of their clothes, not that Emma could bring herself to mind very much. They had hardly stopped holding hands since Killian had emerged from the sea and come back to her once more, and returning hand-in-hand was the least of their worries at appearing before the throne. Raising her fingers entwined with his up to his lips, Killian pressed sweet kisses to her knuckles, looking away from the imposing sight of the castle before them to hold Emma’s gaze intensely with each step they took. “Your parents will be overjoyed to see you return unharmed, Love,” he murmured, humored affection lighting his eyes along with the words. “You must have sent them out of their minds with worry, setting off alone on a fool’s errand the way you did.”

Shaking her head with an indignant huff, Emma managed to break away from his incendiary stare to defend herself. “I don’t see why they should expect anything else! Either of them would have done the same if the other were missing. Are they not the fabled True Loves who claim they will always find each other?” She tossed her disheveled mane of curls saucily when he had the nerve to snicker at her pique. Narrowing her green eyes at him. Emma went in for the kill. “Thank that’s funny, do you? Well, I suppose you’re going to tell me you would simply sit in safety and comfort doing nothing if our roles were reversed and I had gone missing?”

That did stop the humored teasing in his manner. There was no way he could ever lie to her, and they both knew he would do anything, cross any distance or boundary to come to her aid if she needed him, so he really had no denial to offer.

“That’s what I thought,” Emma concluded with a smart little bob of her chin. And then, shaking the fraught moment off - she had too much to be overjoyed for at present - she leaned into his side to whisper against his still half-bared warm chest, “And that’s exactly as it should be.”

Killian merely hummed noncommittally low in his throat. He was not about to admit for a moment that he was flattered and touched that Emma had come seeking him against all odds. He was - infinitely so - but he would never consider his own life or limb worth his princess putting herself at risk. It had been a revelation to see her once more when her trusty little skiff had appeared on the horizon, but if she had not made it to Calypso’s island… if she had been lost…

Rather than answering her directly, he offered a gentle smile which stirred something delicate and warm in her stomach despite the interlude in the surf they had already shared. Shaking her head, Emma eyed him with knowing fondness before she reminding him sincerely, “They love you too, you know that, right? You are the one they will be overjoyed to see alive and well.”

His head dipped into a quick, dismissive little nod, while a finger went almost unconsciously to scratch behind his ear. Clearly, her sailor was no more willing to believe his place within the royal family than he had ever been. “Aye, as you say,” he agreed lightly, but he didn’t elaborate and she didn’t push.

Instead, Emma let their joined hands swing easily between them as they moved toward the castle with renewed purpose and waited for him to speak when he was ready. She was biding her time as patiently as she could. Killian would soon see at any rate - as soon as they stood before her parents.

After that, with the castle in view, they kept traveling steadily, and it did not take long at all for them to enter her parents’ throne room; her mother cried out with joy and rushed forward to embrace them both, her tears of relief wetting her daughter’s hair before she turned to clasp her adopted son to her breast. Emma tried to shoot him a look of pleased satisfaction, ‘See? What did I tell you?’ clearly conveyed, but she couldn’t catch his eye over her mother’s enthusiastic fussing and fluttering, nor could she get a word in edgewise to badger him.

Then her father reached them as well. He hadn’t run, giving his wife her reunion moment, he had kept a more sedate pace, but his immense solace at their arrival was felt as he engulfed Emma in his strong arms, one large hand cradling the back of her head, and for a moment squeezing tightly enough to seem he might never let go. “Thank Heavens you made it home, Sweetheart,” he breathed softly against the hair at her temple. Quickly, he stepped aside just enough to reach Killian too, clasping his upper arm firmly. “Thank goodness the both of you have returned.”

Snow nodded fervently, wiping more tears from her cheeks even as they continued to fall from her twinkling eyes. She was beaming in spite of her emotion, adding, “You were right, Baby.” A knowing look and press of the hand for her daughter had Emma simply returning the gesture with quiet grace; the frustration she had felt when she set out forgotten now in the happy reunion with Killian at her side. “And praise be that you were! What a blessing to have you here with us again, Killian.”

The older monarch’s green eyes still sparkled a verdant hue as lovely and captivating as her daughter’s, her raven hair only barely beginning to be streaked with a sophisticated grey. Still, Queen Snow White had all the enthusiasm and energy of a much younger woman as she turned to her husband. “Charming! We should celebrate! Don’t you think?”

The king’s full lips had tilted upwards in mirth, knowing his wife and her love of royal events all too well after so many years together. She was still clutching his hand, but didn’t even give him a chance to answer aloud before turning back to Killian and Emma enthusiastically.

“What do you think?” she pressed, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “A homecoming ball, in honor of your safe return?”

Emma found she expected the flush that suffused her sailor’s skin at the suggestion, stealing up his neck, over his cheeks and even to the very tips of his adorably elfin ears, as he ducked his head at the Queen’s lavish plan. It would seem she was beginning to know her love’s quirks nearly as well as her father knew her mother’s - True Loves and all. “There’s no need for all of that fuss over me, your Majesty,” Killian answered hastily. In fact, he gulped and quickly raised his face to stare directly into Snow’s gaze intently. “Actually, I mean no offense, but I would prefer to simply return to my duties without fanfare. It hardly seems right to have such a celebration when all the others on the ship - good men, all of them - were lost.”

Snow’s expression sobered quickly, her compassion immediately making her feel for Killian’s loss of friends and compatriots, and for those sailors’ families. Obviously, she and Charming had seen to notifying those households and making sure any widows and orphans left behind by the lost sailors were cared for, but she could see that Killian held some sort of responsibility on his shoulders that was not ready to be recognized for making his way home when others could not. “Of course,” she stated firmly, “You’re right.” Her smile was more tempered, but still hopeful and encouraging; reminding the rest of them in the room just why her kingdom followed her absolutely, why her people loved her, and how she could inspire others to carry on whatever the odds. “Perhaps a memorial service for those who were lost would be more in order.”

“As you say, your Highness,” Killian agreed simply, bowing his head in deference to her decision.

“Good man,” the King added heartily, the words low and restrained, but no less meant. Reaching out , he clasped forearms with Killian, who returned the gesture, though soon he had been pulled into a less dignified fatherly embrace, bone-crushing and back-slapping strength giving away King David’s happiness equal to his more effusive wife’s at seeing their honorary son home again.

~~***~~

Meanwhile, back out to sea, well beneath the surface off Misthaven’s shores, startling changes were afoot. From the very deepest bowels of Davy Jones’ dungeons and caves, the aftershocks and reverberations of his defeat were still being felt, radiating out in ripples as the darkest shadowed corners of his domain were slowly brought to light.

With their nefarious master so undeniably vanquished, the unfortunate souls pressed into Davy’s service by death at sea were released at last - a boon unlooked for - too much for many of them to have even hoped to receive after so long. Gradually, their souls felts the weight of their imprisonment lighten, the metaphorical chains binding them in darkness and the deep releasing their hold.

And one such soul, captured not so much by misfortune or chance than by demented grand design, could feel those shackles fall away more profoundly than most. Liam Jones broke the surface not far from the beautiful if deserted shores of Ogygia. Not sure where exactly he was, the elder Jones sibling bobbed in the shallows, taking in his surroundings curiously and thrilling to the feel of the sun on his skin. Wherever he was, he could remain until he found out; he could stay forever, if he chose. Or he could build a vessel and sail elsewhere. Either way, he would no longer be summoned back to his prison at another’s beck and call.

Still marveling at the return of long departed human sensations returning throughout his body, Liam struck out with a strong, determined stroke, swimming for shore. Ater so long trapped below, it seemed strange needing air to breathe, feeling the human pinch in his muscles at the exertion, the chill of such cold water enveloping his skin. And yet, pleasant or not, each bit of stimuli made his breath catch and his heart pound; it meant he was alive, unbelievable as it might seem.

Though he could have managed the distance in seconds with the powers tied to his father that he had possessed, it still took Liam little time to reach the sandy ground stretched out where the water washed up and over it in a continually receiving and returning caress. He had always been a strong swimmer, with the sea in his veins. “Her little guppy” he distantly remembered his mother saying, in one of the few hazy visions of her his memory had retained; her voice gently teasing, dark eyes crackling with good humor and pride. Strange that he would think of her now, after so many years…

Reaching land, Liam staggered out of the surf, chest heaving, eyes scanning the area, already taking note and attempting to discern where he might be. He would have bet he had been banished to the very edge of the known world for his shift in loyalty, if his father still held any power. However, the blast that had rocked him and made him lose all sense of time and place, even consciousness for some moments, and which had made Emma vanish from his hold, had seemingly destroyed and ruined Davy himself. It had also almost certainly nullified any punishment the old monster would have tried to throw at him. He must be somewhere in the known world; and yet, it resembled nowhere he had ever traveled himself, now anywhere he had charted or mapped, before.

He was half-sitting, half-leaning against a large branch stretched across the sand, the trunk of some tree felled from a small stand of them nearby making a decent resting place to catch his breath, when he sensed he was not alone. Keen senses from a life of hard work and striving to protect a younger sibling thrust into the harsh world much too soon, were returning to him more and more with each moment that passed. Where nothing had been able to truly hurt him as one of Davy’s souls in the deep, his senses now all but blared in self-preservation to be on the alert.

Turning sharply to look back toward the surf he had only just emerged from, he saw a lovely female form standing on the edge of the sand, watching him, unmoving as the waves washed up over his feet and back out to sea again. Though she made no move, nor did she speak, the space between them seemed almost to vibrate with tension - as if she wanted to run to him, to speak, even though he couldn’t say that he knew her, not for sure. Still, the sense of unseen danger, the need to watch his back was gone. Liam forced himself to release a taut breath and lower his shoulders… then slowly took a step forward.

The graceful, dark haired lady before him did the same, took two quick steps nearer in fact, as if she could hold herself in check no longer. It was as he squinted, moving forward again and trying to see more clearly against the bright light of the sun glancing off the water as it began to lower to the evening horizon, that who she must be - impossible as it was - became suddenly clear. A stronger breeze kicked up, sending the gauzy, draped, light robe she wore whipping against her calves and making her hair fly wildly across her face, her elegant hand reaching up to catch the riotous, nearly black curls and hold them back, even as a joyous, enchanting laugh escaped her throat and rang merrily in the space still between them.

And then he knew. That laugh came echoing back to him from long-treasured, nearly forgotten memories of a little house on a hill looking out over deep blue waters. Of a dark-headed woman standing on the slope waiting hopefully for the ship she expected to come in, those same wild tresses - curly as his and as dark as Killian’s - floating around her in the breeze. That same laugh had tickled his childish ears, always pleasing him when he was the one to call it forth, and the voice that accompanied the laughter, so warm and mellifluous, had sung him to sleep when he missed his papa, and soothed his young heart when he was hurt or afraid. His mouth opened, wanting to greet her though no sound came out, no words escaping. ‘Mother,’ his soul cried.

She reached him at that moment. Her cool palms framing his face gently as she seemed to drink in his features like a woman long denied. “Liam… my dear, precious son,” she crooned softly, as if she could feel how overcome he was.

His mother’s touch, her sweet voice in his ears once more, brought tears to his eyes for the first time in what felt like ages. She opened her arms, swaying slightly as his shoulders shook, and she simply held him as she had so long ago. “I’m here, Darling. You’ve had to be so strong. I’m here now,” she soothed. “Just let it go.”

~~***~~

When the storm of his emotions had calmed, Liam learned from Calypso all that had truly taken place when they were children - who she was, where she had been and why, just as Killian had on this very island as well. It seemed so fantastical: their mother, a sea nymph, the sea nymph of myth and legend, making he and Killian half supernatural beings as well, even before his disastrous stint as one of his father’s minions. And yet, it made a strange sort of sense to him as well, as the pieces shifted and settled within his mind. He had been older when they were left with only their father, remembered more… and it had never seemed quite right that their mother would simply vanish. His father’s abrupt, “She left us, went back to her own,” had never rung true. He might have been a mere eight-year-old, but he saw enough, understood enough, to know that it had been Mama who kept them fed and clothed with what little Papa provided. Mama who snuggled with them when storms raged and kept them warm when cold winds whistled through the cracks in the walls. It was Papa who was seldom home, who seemed likelier to take off one day and never return. Whereas he had believed Mama, had known she meant it with every fiber of her being when she’d sworn to him that she would stay with them as long as she could. He had missed her terribly when he woke one morning, so early it was still dark, to Papa shaking him, urging him to hurry - they were off on an adventure. The ache had faded over time; he had thrown himself into seeing to Killian, making sure his little brother knew the songs she had sung, the stories she had told, and that he did not lose that last little germ of sweetness - despite what their lives had then become - that sweetness which reminded Liam of the mother they had both lost.

To see her before him now, hardly able to stop brushing her fingers through his curls or squeezing his hand with both of hers, eased something deep inside that had still been gaping wide and empty though the pain had dulled. They had been taken from her. She had been seeking them, wishing for them back, all along.

Finally he managed to clear his throat, blink out of the awed daze he’d been in, and asked anxiously, “And you’ve seen Killian? And his princess? They - they’re safe?”

Her loving smile, so fond and proud, warmed Liam’s heart in a way that was wonderfully healing. “More than that, they are home… together… and ecstatically happy.”

“Good,” he nodded, genuinely relieved, even if he felt sadness welling too, knowing Killian was where he belonged, but not sure he would ever see his little brother again. He wasn’t even sure why he hadn’t passed on to the afterlife, or just where he was, what he was, or what was next.

“You always were so noble,” his mother commented, shaking her head as she studied him calmly. “So thoughtful. I can see you’re wondering what’s next. The truth is, that choice is yours, Liam. You deserve that much, after so much time was taken from you, against your will.”

Blinking, Liam simply stared back at his mother, trying to grasp that the next step was fully his to make at last. He was no longer bound to another’s whims and designs, no longer pulled by strings that made him feel little more than a puppet torn by what he desired and what he was ordered to do.

Calypso beside him offered a sadly hollow smile, taking her eldest’s hand with a gentle squeeze, and whether because of her supernatural nature, or simply because she was his mother, he could see that she understood. “You may move on at last, to the peace and rest that you have earned and to which you should have been welcomed long ago. Or, seeing as how Davy never fully let nature and time take their courses, and you are not completely dead, nor fully alive, you might also remain here with me on this island and in these waters surrounding it - a guide and caretaker of the sea, which you are already well adapted to with your part-nymph heritage.”

She paused there, resting a hand on the side of his face, her thumb lightly stroked his cheek, before she drew a deep breath and continued. “I won’t try to pretend I wouldn’t love for that to be your choice. I would like nothing more. However, I imagine you will choose the third option. You may return to mortal life with your brother and those who have become his family. Your natural life - and its fleeting span with all the mortal frailties - will be restored for you to live out as you would have done had your father not disrupted Fate’s course.”

Liam’s heart began to pound with excitement at her words, though he would have been happy simply to be free of the troubling limbo which had trapped him for so long, to feel the sun on his skin and the wind on his face as he sailed the waves once more, rather than merely looking up from his prison beneath them. He would not have thought returning to stand at his brother’s side - restored to life - could be an option.

Nodding kindly, even as she brushed away a single tear, Calypso sighed. “I thought as much,” she confirmed. “You took such good care of Killian. He looks up to you and still misses you so. It would have been quite a surprise had you chosen any other way.”

“I am sorry, Mother,” Liam began, floundering for a way to explain that he loved her too, but the pull back to the life which had been stolen was just too strong.

“No, my son,” she interrupted, stilling him with a light hand to his chest, “don’t apologize. This is as it should be.”

And so it was, that as the sun rose the next morning, spread across the sky in vibrant hues over Misthaven’s shores, a magnificent tall ship - proud, strong, and gleaming new - sailed into the royal port, one stunningly familiar form at the wheel, straining to see the dark-haired lieutenant who waited on the docks with the royals, waving to him frantically in welcome. The brothers Jones were reunited at last.

~~***~~

Four years (and nine months) later…

Once again, as was often the case on hazy summer evenings, the gathering twilight shadows and purpled hues of the darkening sky found two solitary figures strolling arm-in-arm along the sand on the shores of Ogygia. If one were to draw nearer still, they would see the dark head of tousled, windswept hair bend down to the glowing golden waves of the shorter figure, as Misthaven’s prince consort whispered in the ear of his princess wife, a secret for only the two of them which made her throw her head back in carefree laughter before she stood on tiptoe, clinging shamelessly to his arms for balance to kiss him him thoroughly and soundly.

Tired from sun and wind and salt water, dazed and deliriously happy as they were, both recognized it was a perfect day drawing to a close around them; one of the sort which were growing increasingly numbered as May dwindled toward June, and the two months allotted them each year to steal for their own, away from royal duty, on the island belonging to his sea goddess mother came to an end once more.

They had married in the fall, not at all long after their return and the defeat of Davy Jones. It had seemed impossible and ridiculous to wait in drawn out courtship to be joined as man and wife; there would never be another for Killian but Emma, nor for Emma but him. Both had nearly given their lives to be sure they had a future together, and neither wished to wait for that hard won future to begin.

Of course, only a couple of weeks into married life, they had found out just how lucky it was they had not delayed. Emma was expecting their first child. Exactly nine months to the day from their first joining in the sand and surf of her kingdom’s shore, where they had first made love surrounded by the very ocean which always brought them back together, their twins were born. The palace officially announced the two baby boys as being early; common for twins and easily presented as fact, but princess and lieutenant-turned-prince knew the truth, and two living reminders of a moment they would never wish to forget were an unexpected blessing. Little David Liam Jones and Henry Leopold Jones had been their love and joy personified in living form before their eyes each day since then. Their sons, identical in looks, energy, enthusiasm and daring loved the water every bit as much as their parents, and had taken to the annual summer escape with only their parents and uncle to see their other grandma each May with dauntless excitement. What four-year-olds wouldn’t want to run wild as young colts all day in sun and surf until exhaustion felled them, only to rise again and do the same the following morn?

Emma, for her part, wanted Killian to be able to visit his mother; did not ever wish to see her taken from him again. Yet she also, much as she loved her people, her kingdom, and her parents, and though she accepted the rule she would one day take upon her own shoulders, found this summer retreat a paradise she would never wish to trade. Though Killian’s patriotism, loyalty to the crown, and place by her side as support and advisor was an immense comfort, Emma could not deny how freeing it was to be far from crowds of admirers, petticoats, policies, protocols, and packed agendas for a time. Only her husband, her babies, and sandy beach and windswept waves as far as the eye could see…

That evening, as they finished a supper of fish Killian had managed to catch for them despite the rather dubious help two exuberant four-year-olds proved to be, simple bread, and mangoes from further inland, both Henry and David had fallen over in weary contentment with full bellies and tired, sunkissed limbs. Chuckling together, Emma had cleared a path and opened doors in their small cottage as Killian carried each to their beds, tucking them in without causing either boy to wake.

For themselves, Emma and Killian left the cleanup for the next day and tiptoed quietly to their own bedroom for a moment alone, together in the whispers of moonlight that crept in through the open window with a gentle breeze.

Letting her fingers lazily twine with his as she led him forward easily, Emma found her breath stolen as Killian stopped near the foot of their bed, tugging her insistently back against his solid form. His arms came up to wrap around her in warm security, and she melted at her husband’s touch. His unshaven cheek prickled her skin when he kissed along her collarbone and up her neck, making her shiver despite the heat.

He had divested her of the light shift she wore almost before she realized it was gone, and his hands were questing boldly over her bared skin, causing a low, throaty moan to escape her lips, only barely managing to keep it soft enough not to wake their children from slumber. It took embarrassingly little time for him to have her thrumming with desire in every nerve ending, particularly with her hormones as wildly raging as they were.

As if he could read her thoughts’ direction, Killian paused his seductive teasing for his hands to rest protectively over her slightly rounded stomach, searching her gaze earnestly before murmuring, “Are you certain this is alright for the little one, Love?”

Emma met his eyes with exasperation; his worry sweet, but oft-repeated by this point. The last month when she had carried their twins had been miserable, and their delivery had been long, difficult, and turned more than a bit traumatic before it was through. Her recovery had been slow and painful, and they had seriously considered whether they wished to try for any more children. But Emma had found that she could not rid her mind of the image of her husband with a tiny baby girl cradled in his arms. Her heart had urged her to try once more, and now she hoped and prayed that a daughter might be safely on her way.

Nodding in answer to Killian’s question, she tried to pull him to her once more, and to smooth the worried creases from his brow.

“But,” he pulled back again, “are we positive? I never want to hurt you, or - “

Shaking her head, Emma could see that stronger measures were needed. Gripping the front of the loose linen shirt he wore barely buttoned, she pulled hard and threw her weight toward the bed, sending them both toppling onto the mattress with a gentle bounce. She rolled quickly to trap him with her body, and leaned in close to assure him, “You won’t hurt me, Killian. I know that as surely as I know anything.”

His whole face lit up with relief and love at her words, warming with one of the most stunning smiles she had ever seen. Satisfied that he was put at ease once more, she turned his face to her own with a finger at his chin and quirked her eyebrow in mischief as she teased, “Well, you won’t hurt me unless you leave me with this ache you’ve started…”

Rolling them once again in the tangled sheets to catch her between his arms as he hovered over her, diving down to steal her breath once more, he rasped, “Well then, Darling, if you insist.”

As the moon shone down on the island’s gleaming waters, they spoke without words, one in body and soul, perfectly happy in their cottage by the sea.

Tagging: @cssns @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @thisonesatellite @shireness-says @stahlop @xsajx @lfh1226-linda @drowned-dreamer @thislassishooked @kday426 @ultraluckycatnd @tornadoamy @xhookswenchx @donteattheappleshook @elizabeethan @wefoundloveunderthelight @darkcolinodonorgasm @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @scientificapricot @resident-of-storybrooke @ilovemesomekillianjones @vvbooklady1256

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