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absolutelyfizzing · 3 years

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angels and demons

warren worthington x reader fluff

@shuckfaced-fangirl Hi! can I request a warren worthington x female mutant reader where her powers are shadow summoning? So I guess everyone in the school kind of views her as some sort of demon? With a lot of fluff? Thank you!!

Description - Y/N is a shadow summoner and is isolated from her peers. Warren helps her see that not everyone fears her and that she is worthy of affection.

warnings - its so fluffy. fem pronouns. some angsty stuff (isolation, depression, sadness), one innuendo, devastating fluff, warren being an angel. i tried to make it POC inclusive, please let me know if it feels restricting or excluding and i will edit it.

word count - 3700, i got carried away

A/N - im so sorry this took so long, i took a break from writing while i am working on moving to college. i will still be spotty for the next few weeks but hopefully, i will post a few more things in that time and then get back on a normal schedule. also, thanks so much for this request, i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope it is something you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

You walked through the halls with a lowered head. You knew that you made others uncomfortable and so you chose to try to make yourself as small and unthreatening as possible. You had been 'gifted' powers with which you could manipulate and create darkness. You were a shadow summoner. That wasn't a name that many found reassuring or comforting.

There were a few who could see past it and who was close to being what you might call friends but those people were few and far between. There were overwhelmingly more people who believed that you must have been a scary and mean person, that you were some sort of demon. This couldn't have been further from the truth if one were to look past appearances. Your shadow was larger and darker than that of your peers and it trailed behind you with a mind of its own, moving and growing without you even meaning for it to happen. Your hands were constantly covered in something darker and dustier than the rest of your skin, a deep and pure black. It trailed from the tips of your fingers and faded on your forearm so it looked as though you had just dipped your arms into a chimney or that shadows were crawling up your arms.

When you first got them, you thought they were sort of cool. They made you look sort of goth and that was fun. That feeling quickly faded when you saw how others, even your family, reacted. They said it was a curse from hell. You were barely convinced otherwise.

You sat away from others at the school during free periods. During lunch you sat alone and in the sun when you could, you hoped it might make others be less scared of you as it might make you look brighter but your shadow, dark and ominous, maintained a spot near you. You wore clothes that made you look more approachable to try to maintain that you weren't scary. Your brightly colored outfit didn't ever seem to work though, no matter how hard you tried.

You looked down at the food in your hands, the sandwich only half-eaten, and you noted your hands. They were so normal looking, your nails were well kept and you thought they were a good size. That they might even be a good size for someone to hold. The only thing was the unnaturally colored dust that seemed to cover them. It was a cool black, it glistened and sparkled in the sun when your fingers moved. It never moved or transferred to anything else, always stuck securely to your skin. You were distracted by the way your fingers seemed to shine when a shadow came near yours, wings outlined in it. You looked up to see a tall blond boy above you with curly hair and bags under his eyes. He nodded to a spot on the grass near you.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

You shook your head and even scooted away from the spot to give him more space despite the fact that you were in a large field.

"Do you want me to move?" You asked gently, wondering if maybe he wanted this particular spot and you took it from him unknowingly.

"I mean, I think that would sort of take away the whole point of me trying to sit with you." He smirked and you felt blood rush to your cheeks. "I like your hands" He hummed and you looked at him in shock. When his eyes met yours you tilted your head a bit.

"They don't bother you?" You tried to speak softly.

"No, I think they're awesome. They make you look punk." He smiled and you felt the corners of your mouth tug up a bit too.

"I like your wings." You almost mumbled as you allowed your gaze to move to the large feathery wings behind him. They moved in the wind and you found yourself wanting to run your fingers through them. "They make you look like an angel." You smiled and he groaned dramatically.

"I'm trying to look grunge." He pouted and you giggled a bit. At the sound, he looked up at you and blushed a bit. "Maybe we should trade."

"If I could trade you I would. Everyone is scared of how I look." You gazed back at the grass.

"I'm not." His simple statement made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you smiled a bit. You looked back at him and made eye contact for a moment.

"What's your name?" You asked and he maintained his gaze into your eyes. It was the most contact or conversation with someone else you'd had in a long time.

"I'm Warren." He smiled a bit and stuck a hand out to you to shake. You looked at his hand in shock. Nobody ever voluntarily touched your hands. Most of them worried that whatever was on them would spread. You hesitantly brought your hand to his, purposefully giving him plenty of time to remove his hand if he felt uncomfortable. But he didn't. Instead, your hand reached his and he shook it before letting go as if it was no big deal.

"I'm Y/N." You smiled a bit more and you felt a giggle come out of you from the joy of realizing this wasn't a dream, that someone was trying to talk to you and they weren't afraid.

"Is my name that funny?" He teased.

"No, I just-" you paused to think, "it's been so long since anyone has done this with me."

"Talked to you?" He questioned, obviously expecting you to say no and explain what you meant. Instead, you just nodded and his heart clenched for a moment. "Well, you can stick with me then."

"I don't know if you want your reputation to take a hit like that."

"My reputation is 'the angry and damaged kid', I'm sure it can handle the breaking news of me talking to a nice and pretty girl." He reassured before he even realized what he was saying. You could have cried at the feeling that rose up in your chest.

After that day, you stuck to his side like glue and he took no issue with it. The more you got to know him the more you appreciated the fact that he had taken you in. With his help, over the coming months, he helped you develop a stable friend group. That group included people like Ororo and Jane who had heard rumors about you and never bothered to check and see if they were real. They apologized profusely, especially Jean as she felt like she could have easily found out that you were kinder than she thought with her abilities but just had never done so, and you gladly accepted, just happy to be within a group.

You and Warren had developed a reputation. He was overly protective and gruff while you were overly nice and empathetic. You balanced each other well and if you were honest, you were in love with him. That always felt weird to say, you'd never been in love with anyone before but every second you spent with him made you more and more sure of your feelings.

When you and Warren were together, you would daydream about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. Being held by him and wrapped in his wings. Getting to play with his unkempt hair. Holding his hand.

Sometimes he would try to encourage you to hold his hand. He would hold it out to you when he was helping you jump down from somewhere high. He would ask you to hand him things and then make decisive contact as he took it from you. He knew that it meant a lot to you, you practically gasped and blushed every time he did it. He had never met anyone so touch starved. He wanted to give you all the affection that you craved.

Unfortunately, Warren was rather oblivious, especially towards things like feelings and emotions. He had no clue that you had any interest in him, even though he hoped you did every day. If he wasn't so attached to your friendship, he might ask you out. Instead, he tried to maintain a friendly distance so he didn't cross any lines while also being as affectionate with you as he could be. You followed a similar path.

The person caught in the middle of this was poor Jean Gray. she had watched you pine over each other since you met and had heard every thought that went through both of your heads. She knew you would never complain or ask for help about anything so she liked to keep tabs on your thoughts every once in a while to make sure you were okay. Still, she tried her best to not listen very often or when you were thinking about anything very personal, she honestly did. But she was a romantic. All she wanted was for you two idiots to get together but you were both oblivious. She decided, probably 3 months into you becoming friends, that she had to do something about it.

She was sitting on your bed while you sat across your bedroom on your small couch. She fiddled with her thumbs while she tried to ignore your constant thoughts about Warren, his hands, his wings, his smile. She was exhausted. she took a small breath while she planned how she would try to say this to you.

"Do you want to know what I heard today?" She called and you looked up at her from the book you were pretending to read.

"Do you mean heard or 'heard'?" You laughed and she rolled her eyes.

"Either." Then she tilted her head. "Both."

"Yeah, I wanna know! What's it about?" You asked while leaning forward in your seat. Jean always had the best gossip to tell because she could literally hear it.

"Warren." She stated simply and watched your reaction. You flushed and stopped breathing for a moment.

"Wha-" you stuttered, "what about him?"

"That he has a thing for you." she winked and you flushed even more.

"You're lying." You assured, a questioning look on your face.

"I'm not and I'm tired of watching you two longing after one another while the rest of the school watches." She smiled and your heart picked up.

"I thought I told you not to look in my head!" You scolded but you weren't actually all that upset. You knew that it was very hard for her to control.

"I cant help it! Both of you think so loud. And I wouldn't have to anyway, Ororo mentioned it to me the other day and she definitely cants read minds." She giggled and you smiled a bit.

"Does he actually like me?" You almost whispered in disbelief.

"Yes! He's been obsessed with you since you started talking."

"But like he would want to actually go-"

"Y/N, I swear to god. If you don't go and talk to him right now I'm going to have a fit." She laughed and you glared at her.

"Okay okay fine, I'm going," you grumbled as you stood and walked toward your door. "If you are wrong I'm gonna be so upset with you."

She just laughed again and you started to walk down the hallway. You thought he might be in his room or outside. You decided to check his room first.

You knocked on his door but you were met with silence. You tried the handle and it moved.

"Warren?" you paused, "I'm coming in," you warned and pushed the door open. When you looked inside, he wasn't there. You took a moment to gaze around his room, it wasn't the first time you had been in there but every time was a bit exciting as you got to see all of the things he had that represented him. He had a boombox and a CD collection on his dresser. Some of his clothes were thrown around his room haphazardly and some of his drawers were open. You looked at the wall next to you where he kept photos that you took. You would carry around a camera or take pictures on your phone of everyone around campus. He always asked for them and then printed them out so he could hang them up. He had even managed to get a couple of you. You smiled a bit before heading back into the hallway, closing the door behind you.

You instead moved towards the door to get out onto the lawn where you thought he would probably be. He often sat under the big oak trees or on the roof if he wanted to get away from people. When you made it outside, you looked around for him.

"Y/N!" you heard him shout. You turned to look for him and saw his silhouette flying from the roof. You paused to admire him and his wings. He always looked so angelic to you. So powerful. You thought about how your power emanated darkness. That you would never appear angelic to someone and would more likely look like a demon. You looked down at your hands for a second, a habit you had when you were thinking about your powers. They sparkled a bit in the sun but it did little to quell the distaste in your mouth.

Suddenly there was a shadow in front of you that was not part of the darkness that surrounded you.

"Y/N?" he asked gently. "Are you okay?" he tried not to startle you. Being empathetic wasn't something that came naturally to him, but he tried extra hard around you. he noticed the way you were staring at your hands. The growth of your shadow as you thought about your powers more. He moved to touch one of your hands but you flinched back a bit. He brought his hand back and looked at you with concern. "Whats wrong, angel?" He asked lightly and you looked up at the pet name. He had started calling you that soon after you became friends. You thought it was out of irony but he really was convinced that you were some sort of angel. He also loved the way that your eyes would light up when he said it. You stared at him for a moment in silence.

"Do I scare you?" You asked quietly and your voice shook. He looked surprised by your question and you were surprised too. You didn't know why you were suddenly getting emotional. Why this was now all you could think about. Why it had to come up now when you were trying to express your feelings for him. Instead of responding he reached out to your hand, holding onto it when you let him, despite flinching away slightly. He started to walk, leading you toward the same tree you had met under. Once you both reached it he sat down and looked up at you, waiting for you to sit down too. You did, maybe a bit farther away from him than you needed to be.

"Do you think you scare me?" he asked genuinely and you took a second to think, looking back down at your hands which were now pulled back into your lap.

"I scare me," you stated simply and paused.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know." You mumbled. "I think I freak everyone out. Including you I guess." Your voice was quieter than you meant it to be. you really hadn't thought about it in a little while. It had been on your mind plenty when you first started talking to him. You were extra conscious of not pushing him to be around you or near your shadow. You knew that he would move away if he needed to but you also had so many memories of everyone around you fearing you, running from you, telling you that you were a curse. Instead of responding he held his hand out in between the two of you, palm up. You knew that he was inviting you to take it but that he wouldn't push you to. Instead of taking it, you placed your hand near his on the ground and he left his next to yours, not trying to take it if you didn't want him to.

"You don't." He let out, sounding sure of himself and slightly pained. "You don't scare me." You looked at each other. He had tears in his eyes. He was never one to get emotional so you were surprised. "Do I scare you?" he questioned, already knowing your answer but trying to prove a point.

"Of course not." You sighed.

"You have a lot more reason to be afraid of me than I have to be afraid of you." he looked at your hand again. "I'm the one who has a rough history, I'm the one who is angry and has a reputation of being aggressive."

"But, Warren, your mutation is-"

"Mutation has nothing to do with it, Y/N." he sighed. "You have control over your abilities, I have control over mine. The only difference between us is our personalities and I have never had any reason to fear you or dislike you. You're the kindest person I know and everyone in your life who has let you think that there was something wrong with you was terrible. And that was on them."

Your hand reached for his and you laced your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and ran his thumb over the back of it.

"I love you." The words came out of your mouth faster than you could think and you sucked in a breath, almost hoping he didn't hear you. When you glanced up at him he had a gentle smile on his face. He brought the back of your hand up to his face and kissed it before placing it against his cheek.

"I love you too, Y/N" He reached out for your waist and pulled you toward his lap, giving you plenty of time to give him a sign that you were uncomfortable. Instead, you put your leg over his waist so you were straddling his thighs. You held one of his hands in between you and fiddled with his fingers, admiring how your hands contrasted with his. Somehow, him holding your hand made it seem less out of place. You almost felt pride.

You were suddenly surrounded by warmth and shadow, the sounds of the quad around you becoming muted. You looked up around you and his wings were wrapped around the two of you, closing you off into your own little world. You felt the urge to reach out to them but you had never asked. You had never seen him let anyone touch them and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Go ahead." your eyes snapped to his in shock.

"Warren, you never let any-"

"I want you to," he admitted and it was true. He had thought many times about asking you to run your fingers through his wings. He would never complain about it but they were a little high maintenance and also sensitive. He never let anyone touch them because most people weren't gentle or he didn't trust them. He knew though that you were the gentlest person on Earth and that he could count on you to be careful.

At his reassurance, you smiled a bit. You reached a hand out to the part of his wing next to his shoulder. You both gasped a bit when your fingers made contact. Warren was a bit surprised at how sensitive they were to your touch and it had been a long time since anyone but himself had touched them. You were entranced by how soft they were. The feathers were delicate and there were so many. You were very careful in how you moved your hand along his wing, looking at him often to see if he was uncomfortable. As you were carding your fingers through his feathers, one came out. You gasped slightly horrified that you had hurt him.

"Hey, it's okay!" he rushed out as he saw your panic. "They just sort of... shed sometimes." He almost seemed embarrassed. Feathers would come off occasionally and he would often have to brush through them himself to release all of the loose feathers, sort of like brushing your hair. He reached to pick up the feather and held it in front of you for you to take. You gladly did and you twirled it in your fingers. "Maybe sometime, if you wouldn't mind, of course, you could help me brush through them?" he asked quietly and you smiled.

"Yeah of course. They seem like they might be a lot of work." you were touched that he trusted you to do that and you thought about how hard it must be to take care of them by himself when they were so big and most of his wings were behind him.

"You should see what it's like to shower with them," he grumbled and then his eyes widened at what he had said. He hadn't meant it to be an innuendo but now he was worried he offended you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and you fell into a fit of giggles.

"I might have to take you up on that offer." Your gentle gaze made him blush. He had never felt this comfortable with anyone. This safe. He decided right then that he would do anything you ever asked of him.

After that day, you and Warren became the cutest couple at the school. You were opposites in multiple ways and your relationship was more wholesome than any of your friends could handle. You got more confident in yourself and your abilities and he allowed himself to be more vulnerable. everyone agreed that you were a match made in heaven.

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ackerfics · 3 years

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the parent trap — levi ackerman (i)

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

— warnings: none, just two adorable little boys being idiots

— summary: two boys discovered that they are connected in more ways than they expected.

— word count: 6k (oops i regret nothing)

— author’s notes: i watched the parent trap recently and i had to do this. everything in this multi-part fic will be based on the parent trap and most of the dialogue can be found in the movie. this chapter doesn’t contain that much levi and the reader (they’re mentioned tho) but it contains bickering between two kids. happy reading !!

part two

Bright gray eyes stared out the window, onyx hair being ruffled by the wind, as the bus’ engine finally stopped at its destination with dozens of boys excitedly finding friends under the cooling canopy of trees of Camp Eldia for Boys. It was a good kind of chaotic, a boy of eleven thought even though he wasn’t used to so many people in one place at the same time (his dad hated it), as he kept his eyes peeled for an orange duffel bag. It was a bright shade and he couldn’t afford to lose it in this horde — he didn’t want to damage it, knowing that his dad specifically bought it for this summer getaway. A shoulder bumped into him, causing the young boy to lose his footing, but not before directing an icy glare at the person, who scurried away after getting a glimpse of his face. Huffing under his breath, he steadied himself while patting his shorts and denim jacket, catching a familiar orange in the pile of duffel bags as he rose his head.

��There you are,” he whispered under his breath with a smile pulling on his lips, his feet carrying him to the pile. The moment he caught hold of the straps of the bag, a scowl replaced his smile, exclaiming, “For fuck’s sake!” as the camp’s staff dumped a lot of bags on top of his. Noticing the incredulous stare given to him by the green-eyed adult, the boy directed his irritated glare from the pile to him. “Do you need something? Or are you going to dump more bags in this pile?”

The green-eyed man rose his hands as if surrendering. “Chill, little dude, you can always get it out.”

The boy rolled his eyes.

“Okay, rude,” the staff murmured, walking away from the struggling kid. “Kids these days, having undercuts and piercings at a young age.”

The black-haired boy continued pulling on his duffel, occasionally cursing in various volumes. He didn’t realize someone timidly coming up beside him, looking between him and the orange bag. Right when he was about to call for help from the adults, the silver-eyed boy turned around, only to jump with his back on the bags at the sight of a boy his age looking at him curiously. Damn it, his lessons in social interaction with his nanny weren’t getting to him at the moment. “Hi,” he muttered, wary of the boy still staring at him with a tilted head. “Can I help you?”

“I think you’re the one who will be needing help,” the boy replied, nodding at the bags. “You know, with that.” A stretch of silence rang through while two pairs of eyes continued staring at each other, one narrowed while the other kind, the owner of the latter now walking to the pile of bags. “Here, let me help.” The boy effortlessly pulled on the strap of the orange duffel, the bag now free from the confines of the pile. The silver-eyed boy looked at the other person with wide eyes. Okay, maybe he wasn’t the same age as him, maybe he was a little older. The boy was taller than him by inches and it made him feel small. “First time in camp? I can tell since you weren’t fast enough in getting your bag from the staff.” The boy nodded at the adults flitting through the throng of pubescent boys. “My name’s Michael. What’s yours?”

As the black-haired boy opened his mouth to give it to his newly found friend (surprise for his dad because he made a friend hours after telling him he will have trouble getting one with his snappy attitude), the brown-haired, green-eyed man from earlier shouted, “Altair Ackerman!”

He rose his hand, “Right here!”

“You’re in the Ehrmich cabin!”

Altair nodded, turning back to Michael, who was grinning. “We’re in the same cabin.”

“Awesome.”

It wasn’t meant to be sarcastic but given the fact that he grew up with an always annoyed man as his father (though his dad was never seen with a scowl when he was around), Altair picked up some of the older man’s habits. The silver-eyed boy took in a deep breath and roamed his eyes around the camp, the countryside of his hometown reminiscent inside his mind, clogging his chest with nostalgia out of nowhere. He was starting to miss the hectares of small tea trees surrounding their estate that seemed to clear the air whenever he took his morning walks, even their quaint little tea shop boring their last name in the middle of their town (well, it was quaint but their numbers are increasing around their state, which is insane). After eight weeks of being with people he barely even knew, Altair was in for a wild ride. He would much rather race through their estate on his horse, Nox, than participate in friendship rituals or whatever camps do during the summer (don’t forget the camp sing-alongs that his father warned him about, giving him second thoughts at the last minute).

Every hour of his flight to Maine was spent thinking about why his father decided to ship him off to the other end of the country. For what? Altair will never know.

A honk interrupted Altair from his thoughts, eyeing the sleek black car entering the camp’s premises with furrowed brows. He can hear Michael express his awe beside him. Who in their right mind would choose to ride a borderline limousine inside a summer camp?

“Dang, the person in that must have a lot of money,” Michael stated.

Altair only narrowed his eyes in slight scrutiny. His small family also has a lot of money but he never once suggested to his dad that he will be arriving in camp with his horse. Plus, poor Nox wouldn’t want to be cooped up inside a ship just for that. “Maybe,” he muttered in reply to his friend. “Hey, do you play poker? My dad gave me cards for this trip.”

“I don’t know how to play poker but you can always show me the ropes.”

“Great.”

As the two boys went inside their cabin and greeting some of their roommates, the black car opened, along with a lean man surveying the camp with a watchful eye. Most of the children had their eyes curiously stuck on the vehicle and the man with light brown hair had to hold in his smug smile at their dashing entrance. Ducking down to address the person inside the car, he opted for smiling encouragingly at the onyx-haired boy — he doesn’t want to bite down his tongue in front of young children because that would be embarrassing. Feet enclosed in dress shoes stepped outside of the black car, beholding the sight of an eleven-year-old boy clad in a gray suit jacket and matching short pants. His hair fell right past his ears and touching the nape of his neck in tidy wavy locks, his hand clutching his stationery box.

The man behind the boy smiled before saying, “Here we are — Camp Eldia for Boys.” The man followed the boy, who was walking towards the side of the car with wide, admiring eyes. “We traveled all the way from London for this.”

The boy of silver eyes chuckled, the sound twinkling in the air. “It’s rather picturesque,” he glanced at the man with a huge grin, “don’t you think?”

The light-brown-haired man swatted a mosquito hovering close to his face, turning to the child with a sigh. “Not exactly the term I would use in describing this,” he paused, looking around the vicinity with narrowed eyes, “place.” He didn’t want to be rude now that he saw how the young boy stared at the cabins with bright eyes. He took the box from the boy’s hand, the latter giggling at his friend’s unamused face, and took out a small notebook and a pen from the inner pockets of his suit. Opening it to a checklist, he started, “Now, let us review your mother’s list.” At the sound of the young boy humming lightheartedly, he continued with a small smile, “Vitamins?”

The boy grinned. “Check.”

“Minerals?”

“Check.”

“List of daily fruits and vegetables?”

“Check. Check.”

The man stopped, staring at the onyx-haired boy with a raised eyebrow.

The young kid laughed. “Check for the fruits and another check for the vegetables. Go on.”

With a satisfied smile, the man continued listing items from the list — sunblock, lip balm, insect repellant, and the stamps that the boy will be using for the weekly letters. Then, he also gave reminders for the photographs if ever the kid misses his family members. All of this was answered with a huge smile, claiming the young boy had all of those in check, adding a, “You don’t need to worry. I got everything handled and packed safely in my luggage.”

“Oh, and before I forget, here’s a little something from Hange.” The older man presented something from his suit with a smirk. “Spanking new deck of cards. Maybe you’ll actually find someone on this continent who can whip your tush at poker.”

“I doubt it,” came the reply. The black-haired boy swayed on the balls of his feet, an endearing smile plastered on his face. “Thanks for bringing me here, Oluo.”

Oluo Bozado, the butler of the esteemed [Last Name] family was a dear person to the little boy and the extended members of the household, seeing as he witnessed how the mistress of the household took care of the young boy all by herself until he was a bright child ready for all sorts of adventures. Looking at the child of bright stormy eyes and hair as dark as midnight, the brown-haired man felt his lips tremble with the thought that his young master was starting to experience what it was like away from family. It was only a week before that the boy’s mother decided to present more opportunities for her son while she was away for a business trip in Greece.

It was a great decision to bring along the child but it was more suited for him to mingle with people his age, knowing that he was homeschooled all his life. Now, Oluo was trying hard not to bawl his eyes out in the middle of this blasted summer camp so instead, he spread his arms for the little boy to give him a goodbye. Sniffing occasionally, Oluo muttered with conviction, “Now, you remember, if you ever change your mind and want me to come here and collect you at the end of the camp — we’re all only one phone call away.”

Chuckling at the antics of the butler, the dark-haired boy pulled away and patted the man’s back. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. You, Hange, and Mum shouldn’t worry too much. Though, Hange wouldn’t worry that much since they’re responsible for this suggestion. Nevertheless, I’m a big boy now. See you in eight weeks, Oluo, old pal.”

Oluo huffed lightheartedly. “I’m not that old, you know. It’s just the face. Keep safe, Caelum.”

Caelum grinned knowingly. The two then started doing their signature pact of friendship, which the child orchestrated the moment he started to be aware of his surroundings. Their hands clapped against each other, bumping their hips along an imaginary beat, sliding past one another, and ending the small show with a firm handshake and a smile on their faces. Oluo smiled softly and affectionately ruffled Caelum’s hair, making the wavy curls more pronounced. “Have fun, little prince.”

“I will.”

One week in camp and everything was going the way Caelum expected it to be. He made friends with a few campers, who were all chattering about how cool he was while entering the camp a while back, saying that he looked like a noble. All of their remarks will always be brushed off by the dark-haired boy. There was partial truth in what they were saying, his mother’s family solely responsible for why he acted like the way he is — regal. For a shorter explanation, Caelum was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Plus, he was spoiled a lot by his Mum’s best friend, Hange, who lived with them for he could remember.

(“Do you want to know why I live here, little bean? Except for being a freeloader—ow, I’m just having a laugh, [Name]! If you’ll excuse that interruption, I live here because this has been my home. Your Mum’s family accepted me after I came out to my parents. Aaaand, I get to see your cute face every day!”)

There were so many things that he loved while being on this little escape. One, this place was full of sunshine and laughter compared to his home back in London, not that he hated the gloomy thunderstorms and the sounds of the city back home, but it was nice to finally relax under the blinding rays of the sun. Two, the games were glorious, having to play alongside children around his age. It was exhilarating in the smallest of ways and it warmed Caelum’s heart. After getting their lunch inside the cafeteria (which consisted of a strange encounter from one of the camp directors, Nile Dok, saying that he saw someone who looked a lot like Caelum seconds before acknowledging him), the little boy roamed around the camp beside his friends. Ahead of them was a small gathering of campers and a staff, Eren Jaeger, Caelum learned. The adult was saying along the lines of challenging the reigning champion of fencing.

Caelum had to hold back his scoff.

He had a fencing teacher once and he was told that he could best anyone even if he would do it halfheartedly. Maybe it was the nostalgia bringing in the drive to be the said challenger but the silver-eyed boy found himself saying, “Can I challenge him?”

Eren didn’t look up from his clipboard as he answered, “Finally, someone stepped up. Okay, you can suit up there, buddy. Your fellow campers will help you get ready.”

“Got it.”

Once he was fitted with the white fencing suit, Caelum wiggled his arms as he released a deep breath. It’s been a while since he prepared for another spar, almost a year now, and he could only hope that he wasn’t rusty. Running his hand through his thick hair, Caelum placed the helmet snug around his head. Without waiting for their referee (who looked like they wanted to be at another place at the moment), the onyx-haired boy faced his opponent. He sized up the boy in front of him with blank eyes. It looked like they were of a similar build, with the boy bouncing at his feet every few seconds, which irked Caelum in the slightest. Maybe this would be the moment to be serious in something he thought he used only to pass the time. Lowering his stance with bended knees, Caelum neutrally positioned himself so that his opponent wouldn’t know if he was in the offense or defense.

“Fencers ready?” Eren asked the two of them, eyes flitting between the two boys.

The boy in front of Caelum said, “Ready,” in the exact voice as him that it unnerved the black-haired boy.

Shaking his head, Caelum flipped his saber expertly in the air. “All set.”

“Tch, show-off.”

The silver-eyed boy felt his insides churn with annoyance.

“En garde, fence!”

Caelum immediately forwarded a couple of steps, taunting his opponent with light jabs as the other person defended his torso against Caelum’s attacks. Once he had the boy in the green fencing suit backed against the trees with nowhere to turn, the last thing Caelum expected was to have his adversary dashing for one of the trunks, gaining momentum for a second and jumping on the surface of the tree in a graceful turn, the other boy’s saber slashing the direction of the silver-eyed boy’s stomach. Caelum backed away with a jump at the last second, successfully dodging the boy’s attack, to which he failed to notice the glint of metal shooting towards his head. With his instincts, Caelum ducked down and made a counter-attack, zoning his attention on the opening on his opponent’s knees brandishing for his attention. Annoyance once again prickled Caelum’s being, bubbling in his stomach and reaching towards his head in migraine, as the other boy parried his consecutive offensive maneuvers until they circled the entire area for the camp’s games.

The onlookers could see how the two mirrored each other. When Caelum went for the overhead jab, the other boy would strike his rival’s lower body. It was a dance of parries and counter-attacks that some of them were starting to feel dizzy from all the constant back-and-forths between the two children. Even Eren, who was starting to think that accepting this job for the summer was a total waste, perked up while the two boys continued meeting their weapons in parries as their little feet brought them to where the pavilion was situated. The green-eyed man even called for one of his friends, Reiner Braun, to watch the exciting fencing tournament. With bated breath, every pair of eyes watched as the boy in green had his saber thrown away by a flick of Caelum’s sword, leaving the former with nowhere to go and no weapon to deflect the point of the saber’s tip on his chest.

Right when the audience thought the two were done (Eren was about to announce the winner), the boy in green lost his balance from Caelum’s push, his body going over the railings of the pavilion and into the small washing area by the side of the establishment.

“What the fuck?!”

Caelum swore he heard the entire audience gasp.

The only question in his mind was ‘what was the reason?’ Was it the curse words or the fact that he just pushed his opponent in a tub of water that could’ve seen better days?

Pursing his lips, the silver-eyed boy leaned over the railings and reached out a hand. “Sorry about that, let me help you.”

“No, let me help you.”

Water entered Caelum’s helmet as he toppled over from the force of the other boy’s pull. He slowly looked over at the other person occupying the tub of water after sitting up. He could feel his eye twitch from behind the soaked helmet. There was a distinct chatter in the background, asking both boys if they were alright. Eren might have called over his friends and now they were fussing over the two with concerned and amusing questions. And yet, Caelum never strayed his glare from the person in front of him.

“What did you do that for?” Caelum seethed.

“Me?!” The boy all but screamed at his face, his hands gesturing between them. “You pushed me in, you idiot!”

“I did not!”

“I’m sorry I ruffled your feathers, gentleman,” the boy spat.

“Okay!” Eren interjected, coming forward and crouching to meet the boys’ eyes. His earlier expression of boredom was now switched into something bright as he looked back and forth the two boys. “That was awesome, little dudes! Are you sure you two didn’t enter any kind of fencing competition?” When he saw that the two had opposing answers, he grinned. “Campers,” he called out to the children surrounding him, “I think we have ourselves a new camp champion, from London, England — Caelum [Last Name]!” Eren stood up to his full height, watching as the two boys took off their helmets, backs facing one another. The said champion shaking his head and splashing water droplets like a dog while the other boy raked his hand over his short hair, slicking back his haircut. The green-eyed man noticed something from the two but he extinguished his curiosity with a, “Alright, dudes, shake hands. We love and promote sportsmanship in this household.” Preventing a chuckle from coming out since the boys didn’t budge from their positions, Eren once again tried, “Come on, little dudes.”

Altair has never been surprised even once in his life but the moment right now shook his entire world.

It was like viewing himself in the mirror.

Even though the boy in front of him had longer hair, there was no mistaking how his heart was pounding inside his chest, breath taken away at the uncanny resemblance between him and this boy from England (posh accent and all). He vividly read somewhere that seven people around the world looked exactly like a single individual, remembering how he thought that was cool enough for his seven-year-old brain. Maybe this was it. But he knew better because the more he stared shell-shocked at the boy with waves for hair, the more the feeling like he knew him bubbled inside his stomach. The boy seemed to think similar thoughts as him at the moment, stretching his hand for a tentative handshake that was long overdue (probably a couple of minutes, like Altair cared).

A zap.

A bolt of electricity.

It trickled in Altair’s whole arm until he pulled away from the boy’s grasp.

He was never big on physical contact, to begin with. Yeah, that’s the reason why he pulled away so quickly and not the possibility of sharing something common with the boy who looked like him. Brushing everything off just like his dad always did, Altair scoffed, purposely wiping his hand on his pants exaggeratedly as he stated, “Why is everybody staring at us?”

The boy stared at him like he grew a second head, which sparked irritation in his veins. “Don’t you see it?”

Altair lazily looked around. “See what?”

Furrowed eyebrows graced the pretty boy’s expression (by calling the boy pretty, he was practically calling himself pretty, and Altair had no complaints about that). “The resemblance between us, you tosser.”

“What?”

“I said—“

“I heard what you said.” Altair stepped forward a little to glare at the boy. “What did you call me?”

The boy rose his chin a little in the air. “A tosser.”

“I swear to God,” Altair murmured under his breath, a smile of disbelief painted his lips, “if you don’t stop calling me names in your slang, I’d really be a tosser because I will fucking toss you and your stuck-up ass in the lake right now.” He continued surveying the boy with eyes full of disdain. “And what resemblance? I don’t see a thing because you look nothing like me.” The other boy’s face contorted into that blank mien that he was sure only him and his dad could pull off. The bags under the boy’s eyes became prominent as he matched Altair’s stare. Huffing indignantly, Altair continued, “For your information, your eyes are much closer together than mine. Your ears … it makes you look like a rat. Your teeth are crooked. Oh, and that nose? Don’t worry, those things can be fixed.” Satisfaction made Altair’s chest puff in confidence at the offended look on the boy’s visage. “You want to know the real difference between us? It’s—“

“I know how to fence and you don’t?” The boy taunted. He placed a finger on his chin as if contemplating something. “Or I have class and you don’t? Just take your pick, good sir.”

“You little shit—“

“Try me, you fu—“

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Eren interrupted, placing a hand on both boys' shoulders. “Let’s break up this little lovefest of yours. Caelum, Altair.” Then, at the next second, the man became confused. “Altair, Caelum. Caelum? Altair? Oh, holy shit, this is giving me a whiplash.”

The following weeks were pure hell that Caelum was convinced this was his punishment for eating Hange’s stash of their favorite butter cookies. He could remember how they screamed bloody murder for whoever finished their special tin, with Caelum’s mother calming them down and saying they probably forgot eating them. Nobody knew who ate them, well, except for Oluo since the butler caught the young master in the act.

That Altair kid definitely knew how to handle a grudge, throwing pranks at Caelum left and right, causing the latter to retaliate in the most mature way possible — giving the boy who looked like him a taste of his own medicine. It all started when Caelum was defeated at poker the night after they had their fencing competition, defeated by Altair to be precise. That pompous idiot thought it was funny to taunt Caelum into diving into the lake naked and leaving him behind while Altair’s little posse took away his clothes. It was mortifying, walking back to his cabin stuttering because of the cold, no clothes to keep him warm. That spurred him to take revenge, asking for his cabinmates’ help in getting out the Ehrmich cabin’s beds for all the campers and camp directors to see. It only got worse after that. It was all fun and games until Altair got Nile Dok and his assistant, Floch Forster, in his ultimate prank to humiliate Caelum, turning the Mitras cabin into a mess of honey, whipped cream, water balloons, and feathers.

While Nile was screaming for Caelum and Altair to pack their bags, the former turned to look at his doppelganger with lifeless eyes. “You are without a doubt the lowest, most awful person on the planet.”

Altair couldn’t help but smirk devilishly. “Thank you, thank you very much.”

Nile decided that the fitting consequence was to put the two of them in the isolation cabin. Caelum doesn’t know if that will help with their situation. He was convinced they will kill each other if they’re cooped inside a smaller cabin.

The first night in the isolation cabin was turning out quite nicely for the longer-haired boy, taking out his journal to write the significant events that happened during the day. He was peacefully enjoying his solitude that he didn’t notice Altair huff every second while glaring at the overhead light bulb that served as their only light source. At the umpteenth wordless complain, Altair had enough of it, sitting up in his bed and turned the lights off. The whole cabin was bathed in darkness, making Caelum flinch since he was immersed in writing out his inner thoughts of decapitating the person sharing his space at the moment. With an incredulous stare directed at the boy across the room, Caelum turned on the lights, which resulted in a battle between the two boys and making it seem like the isolation cabin was infested with ghosts.

After an entire week in the isolation cabin, there was a thunderstorm warning around the camp. As some of the campers screamed while looking for shelter one afternoon, Altair was organizing the posters plastered on his side of the room. The other person occupying the cabin was trying to distract himself by playing solitaire. The short-haired boy wanted to make casual talk since the silence has been stifling for the past hours but his anxiety-ridden gut got the best of him so he chose to stay quiet while fiddling with the poster of his favorite show. A strong gust of wind then blew from the opened windows, making his posters fly around the room.

Caelum looked up from putting a card on one column and immediately stood up to help the boy struggling with closing the window. “Oh, no,” he murmured when he saw the mess. With occasional glances, he planted his hands on one side of the sliding window and pushed. He didn’t miss how Altair looked at him with a weird face. The longer-haired boy didn’t care as he pushed the window, stopping the howls of the wind. Feeling the stares drilled at the side of his head, Caelum met Altair’s stare with a small half-smile before nodding towards the posters scattered over the floor. “Need help with that?” A nod was all Caelum needed to pick up the posters with Altair, a comforting silence blanketing the two boys. In the midst of their tidying up, he noticed a stuffed toy lying on top of some newspaper clippings. Thinking that Altair will act rashly again, he hesitated, “Oh, here’s your…”

Altair turned to the other boy, breathing a laugh through his nose and taking the stuffed bunny from Caelum. “Snuffles. For having a tough-boy persona, I don’t look like the kind of person who owns a stuffed toy, right?”

“Not at all, I think it’s pretty normal.” Smiles were shared, with the longer-haired boy fidgeting with his fingers, needing to break the silent atmosphere. “No pictures were ruined, right?”

“You don’t have to worry,” Altair replied with a slight smile, eyes still on the posters. “You were fast enough in helping me with the window.”

“Home has pretty much had this weather most of the month. I guess I developed the reflexes there.”

Altair hummed, looking inquisitively at the wavy-haired boy. “How far is London anyway?”

“Well, from here it’s 3,000 miles, but sometimes it seems much further. How far away is your home?”

“California’s at the other end of the country.” Altair looked at the side and picked up a photo. “Here’s a picture of my house.”

Caelum peered down at the picture and immediately thought it looked, “Amazing.”

“I know, right?” Altair flashed a proud smile. “Dad built it when I was a baby, at least that’s what he said. We got this incredible porch that has a cool view of the tea tree plantation and then there’s this pool in our backyard. Petra, my nanny, will always scold me for staying too long in the water or for walking around the plantation until nighttime. I also have this beautiful horse that Dad gave me for my tenth birthday, she’s amazing, her name’s Nox, by the way.”

“Who’s that?” Caelum pointed at a black-haired man, who only had his back on the photo. The man was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and some jeans. Even though he never saw the man in person, there was something about that physique that screams familiarity, very much like how he first met Altair.

The other boy blinked before grinning. “That’s my Dad. He’s like my best friend since nobody wanted to befriend me for being snappy. We kind of did everything together. He didn’t know I was taking his picture or else he would turn around and tell me to take a picture of the house instead. He doesn’t like his picture taken, says he doesn’t like the sound of the cameras or how it exposes him.”

“Why?” Caelum asked curiously with a pinch in his chest. Must be complete to have someone you can call Dad.

Altair shrugged. “Beats me. Every time someone wants to take a picture of him and our teahouse, he would decline. But, the only pictures that he was in were the ones that have my mom in them. That disappeared when I found out about it though.” At the expression on Caelum’s face, the boy tried asking what was wrong, only to be told that the room was getting chilly. As Caelum stood up from the floor and went to his bed, Altair followed suit and opened the trunk at the end of his bed. Taking out something that always cheered him up, he lifted it so that the wavy-haired boy could see it. “Want some Oreos? I know you’ll find this weird but I eat them with peanut butter.” He then took out a jar of peanut butter from his things.

“That is weird.” Caelum saw how Altair’s face slightly dropped, so he continued, “That’s weird because I eat Oreos with peanut butter, too.”

Altair took a seat on Caelum’s bed, a few feet separating the two boys. “Finally someone who appreciates the combination. Dad always told me it’s disgusting even though I’ve seen him eat Oreos with peanut butter a couple of times for his midnight tea.” Opening the box of Oreos, Altair offered one to his newfound friend, to which Caelum took gratefully. “So what’s your dad like? Is he one of those workaholics who always go home late and leaves the house before you wake up? Or is he those types who spoil you with all the time in the world while still keeping up with his job?”

With a small smile, Caelum answered, “I don’t have a father. I mean, I had one once, I suppose, but my parents divorced years ago.” He looked down thoughtfully. “My mother never even mentions him. It’s like he evaporated into thin air or something.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair before taking another Oreo from the packaging.

“It’s scary how the way nobody stays together anymore.”

“Tell me about it.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m turning twelve on December 24.”

Altair choked, swiveling his head to the boy beside him. “That’s my birthday, too!”

“We have the same birthday,” Caelum trailed off, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “How weird is that.”

“Extremely,” the short-haired boy answered, looking out the window the next second. “Hey, would you look at that? It finally stopped raining.” Standing up from the bed, he stretched his arms into the air and sighing in satisfaction. “Come on, Cae, let’s get some popsicles from the mess hall. It’s always good to eat something cold in this weather.” He went outside the cabin until he noticed that the door didn’t open after him. Curiously, Altair looked up from the bottom of the stairs, meeting the stare of his perturbed friend. “Hey, are you alright?”

Caelum was fidgeting with his sweater, looking at anywhere except for the boy at the bottom of the stairs. He leaned against the railings before speaking out what was bothering his mind since he saw the picture of Altair’s father, “Al, what’s your mother like?”

Stuffing his hands inside his pockets, Altair answered, “She’s not exactly in the picture in our little family. I mean, she and Dad split up when I was a baby or even before that. I never met her and Dad never talks about her every time he’s at the house.” He then remembered the picture he stole from his father’s nightstand after trying to find the photo album with his parents in it. “But I know she’s really, really beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, even if it was just a picture I stole from Dad’s nightstand.”

“Do you have that picture right now?”

“Yeah? Hey, I’m getting hungry, let’s get some lunch.”

The wavy-haired boy turned around, leaving Altair outside of the cabin. “Don’t you realize what’s happening?” When he faced the boy following him, he saw how Altair jumped an inch at how quickly he turned around. Holding back a snicker, Caelum continued his theory, “Look, I don’t have a father and you’re also missing your mother. We’ve also never seen our missing parents. You have one picture of your mum and I also have one picture of my dad. Well, at least you have one whole picture, mine’s a pathetic crinkled little thing and ripped down the middle ...” He stopped his rambling when he saw Altair dashing his trunk. “What are you rummaging in your trunk for?”

“This.” Altair pointed at the picture in his hands. “This is the picture of my mom and it’s ripped down the middle, too.”

Caelum also went to his desk, taking out a tin box where he kept all the photos of his family members. He slid out a ripped photograph and went back to his friend’s side. “On the count of three, let’s put it together.”

“One.”

“Two.”

Together they shouted, “Three!”

Like puzzle pieces, the two ripped parts became a whole picture again, like the two boys inside the small cabin as they looked at each other and realized they share more than just their birthdays and love for peanut butter Oreos.

“I have this crazy yet genius idea!”

“I hope this doesn’t concern another dip in the lake.”

“No, this is better.” A crazy glint in Altair’s eyes appeared. “Let’s switch places when we go home.”

#attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #levi #levi ackerman x reader #modern au #i had fun writing this kannwkw #rorywrites #levi ackerman

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scorpionyx9621 · 3 years

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Do you think Jason Todd fandom is kinda toxic? Because it seems like NO MATTER what DC do, there'll always be complains. Forget the bad adaptation like Titans. Even Judd Winick cannot escape the criticism with how he potrayed Robin!Jason. They just never satisfied.

SORRY, IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS. I just moved from Washington D.C. to Seattle, which, for my non-American friends, that's 4442km away. And I DROVE THERE ALL BY MYSELF. And now I'm trying to find new work in a new city and trying to stay mentally healthy and positive. Life is exciting but hard and scary.

*sighs*

As someone who was a fandom elder with V*ltr*n. I've seen some of the worst when it comes to fandom behavior. I'm talking people baking food with shaving razors and trying to give them to the showrunners. I'm talking leaking major plot details and refusing to take it down unless they make their ship canon (I am looking at you, Kl*nce stans) For the most part, DC Comics has had a decades-long reputation of treating their fans like trash and not caring what they think so from what I've seen, we all just grumble and complain in our corners of the internet about how we don't like how X comic portrays Jason Todd.

The challenge with Jason Todd is that he's your clinical anti-hero, the batfamily's Draco in Leather Pants, he's a jerkass woobie, and on top of all of that, he's a Tumblr sexyman. It's a perfect storm for a very fun but frustrating character to be a fan of. It doesn't help that every writer decides to re-invent the wheel every time Jason comes up so his canon lore is confusing at best and inconsistent as a standard.

I guess starting with a general brief on who Jason is and what is uniform about him with every instance he's appeared in comics/media.

Grew up in a poor family in Gotham with a dad who was a petty-mid-level criminal, and a mother who dies of a drug overdose.

Survives on the street on his own by committing petty crimes and potentially even engaging in sexual acts to keep himself alive.

Is cornered by Batman and taken in after Dick Grayson quits/is fired

Becomes the second Robin, but is known for being the harsher, more brutal Robin.

Is killed by Joker after being tortured, but somehow comes back to life and regains senses through the Lazarus Pit

Resolves himself to be better than Batman by basically being Batman but kills people.

Where there has been a lot of conflict in the fandom is the fact that Jason Todd is not a character that is written consistently. DC Comics loves to go with the narrative that Jason was "bad from the start" and was the "bad robin" when, yes, he has trouble controlling his anger, but he also still is just as invested in seeing the best of Gotham City and trying to be a positive change for the world as any other DC Comics hero.

Where I get frustrated with the fandom is its ability to knit-pick every detail of a comic they don't like while completely disregarding everything that makes the comics great and worth it to read. My example being Urban Legends. To which most people had pretty mixed reactions to. I was critical of the comic at first but as it went along I ended up really liking it. I have a feeling DC Comics went to Chip Zdarsky and told him he had 6 issues to bring Jason back into the Bat Family, and honestly he didn't do a bad job. Did it feel rushed? Absolutely. I wish there was more development of Jason and Bruce's characters and their dynamic as a whole. However, where I see a lot of people being angry and upset with Urban Legends is that they feel Zdarsky needlessly wrote Jason as an incompetent fool who needs Bruce to save him.

Whether or not that was the intention of Zdarsky is up to debate. However, and this may be controversial, but I don't think he wrote Jason Todd out of character at all. For as fearsome, intimidating, and awesome as Red Hood is. Jason is a character who is absolutely driven by his emotions. Why do you think he donned the role of Red Hood? As a response to his anger towards The Joker for killing him, and towards Bruce for not taking action against The Joker and for seemingly replacing him so quickly after he died. Jason didn't care about being the murderous Robin Hood or for being the bloody hammer of justice against N*zi's and P*d*ph*les. He only cared originally about making The Joker and Bruce pay. It wasn't until he trained under the best assassins in the world and realized most of them were horrific criminals who trafficked children and were p*dos that Talia began to realize that the teachers that she sent Jason to train under started dying horrific and painful deaths.

The entire story of the Cheer story in Batman Urban Legends was started because it finally forced some consequences upon Jason. Tyler, aka Blue Hood's father was a drug dealer who gave his supply to his wife and kids. And when Tyler's father admitted he gave the drugs to Tyler, it immediately made him fall within the self-imposed philosophical kill-list of Jason Todd. And Jason, well, he proceeds to kill Tyler's father. When this happens, Jason is in shock. Tyler's dad fit the bill to easily and justifiably be killed by Jason. We've never seen Jason having to deal with the consequences of being a murderous vigilante on a micro-level. When Jason realizes what he's done in that he's murdered Tyler's dad, he's shocked. He tells Babs the truth. He does a rational thing because he's in shock. He doesn't know what to do, he never has had to face the consequences of his actions as Red Hood and now the gravity of befriending a child as a vigilante hero who kills people just set in when he killed the father of the same child he was just introduced to.

(Oh here's a little aside because it had to be said, Jason would not have been a good father or a good mentor to Tyler and absolutely should not have been his new Robin. Jason is a man who is in his early 20's (not saying men in their early 20's can't be good fathers at all) who is a brutal serial killer using the guise of a vigilante anti-hero to let him escape most of the law. the complications of having the man who murdered your father adopt you and make you his sidekick are way too numerous for me to explain in a long-winded already heavy Tumblr essay post. There's a reason why we don't advocate for a story where Joe Chill adopted Bruce Wayne or one where Tony Zucco took in Dick Grayson.)

The next biggest argument is that they feel that Jason is giving up his guns as a means to just be invited back into the Bat-Family. To which I will tell anyone who has that argument to go actually read Urban Legends. Already have and still have that argument? Please re-read it. Don't want to? That's okay, I will paste the images from the comic where Jason specifically says that he doesn't want to give up his weapons for Bruce and his real reasoning down below since the comic isn't exactly readily accessible.

Jason gave up the guns because he felt the gravity of what he had done and knows how it'll effect Tyler. Thankfully his mom is alive and in recovery. But Tyler doesn't have a father anymore. And Jason killed Tyler's father. It may have been in accordance to Jason's philosophy, but it was a case where it blurred the lines. Jason Todd isn't a black and white character, just very dark gray. He doesn't kill aimlessly like the Joker. If you are on Jason's list you probably have done something pretty horrific, and also just in general, being in his way or being a threat to him. Mind you, in early days of Red Hood and the Outlaws (Image below) Jason almost killed 10 innocent civilians in a town in Colorado all because they saw him kill a monster. That being said, Jason isn't aimless in his kills.

(Also can we just take a moment to appreciate Kenneth Rocafort's art? DC Comics said we need to rehabilitate Jason Todd's image and Kenneth Rocafort said hold my beer: It's so SO GOOD)

That being said, the key emphasis in the story of Cheer asides from trying to introduce Jason Todd back into the Bat Family and give an actual purpose for him being there, other than him just kind of being there ala Bowser every time he shows up for Go Kart racing, Tennis, Golf, Soccer, and the Olympic games when Mario invites him, is that Jason and Bruce ultimately both want the same thing. Jason wants to be welcomed back into the family and to be loved and appreciated. Bruce want's Jason back as his son and wants to love and protect Jason. Both of these visions are shown in the last chapter of Cheer while under the effect of the Cheer Gas. It's ultimately this love and appreciation they both have for each other that helps them overcome their challenge and win.

Jason Todd is a character who, just like Bruce, has been through so much pain and so much hate in his life. The two are meant to parallel each other. While Bruce chose to see the best in everyone, giving every rogue in his gallery the option to be helped and give them a second chance, hence why he never kills, Jason has a similar view on wanting to protect the public, but he understands that some crimes are so heinous they cannot be forgiven, or that some habitual criminals are due to stay habitual criminals, and need to be put down. But at the end of the day, the two of them both try to protect people in their own ways.

I am aware that through the writings of various DC Comics authors such as Scott Lobdell and Judd Winick, the two have had a very tumultuous relationship. And rightfully so, I am by no means saying that Scott Lobdell writing an arc where Bruce literally beats Jason to within an inch of his life in Red Hood and the Outlaws, nor Judd Winick's interpretation of Under the Red Hood where Bruce throws the Batarang at Jason's neck, slicing his throat and leaving him ambiguously for dead at the end of the comic is appropriate considering DC Comics seems to be trying everything they can to integrate Jason back into the family. That being said, a lot of these writings have shaped the narrative of Jason and Bruce's relationship and have an integral effect on the way the fandom views the two. It doesn't help that Zdarsky acknowledged Lobdell's life-beating of Jason by Bruce at the very end of Cheer by having Bruce give Jason his old outfit back as a means of mending the fence between the two of them. That does complicate a lot of things in terms of how they are viewed by the fandom and helps to cause an even greater divide between the two.

Regardless, I want to emphasize the fact that Jason Todd is a part of the family of his own accord. Yes, he's quite snarky and deadpan in almost every encounter. However, Jason is absolutely a part of the family and has been for a while of his own will. There's a great moment in Detective Comics that emphasizes this. Jason cares about his family because it is his found family. Yes, they may be warry about him and use him as a punching back and/or heckle him. At the end of the day, we're debating the family dynamics of a fictional playboy billionaire vigilante whose kleptomania took the form of adopting troubled children and turning them into vigilante heroes. Jason Todd wants a family that will love and support him. This is a key definition of his character at its most basic. This was proven during the events of Cheer and is being reenforced by DC Comics every time they get the opportunity to do so.

Now, none of this is to say that I hate Judd Winick. I do not, I don't like the fact that in all of his writings of Jason, he just writes him as a dangerous psychopath, and Winick himself admits to seeing Jason as nothing much more than a psychopath. Yet Winick is the one who the majority of the fandom clings to as the one true good writer of Jason Todd because 'Jason was competent, dangerous, smart' Listen, friends, Jason is all of that and I will never deny it. However, what I love about Jason isn't that he's dangerously smart of that writers either write him as angsty angry Tumblr sexyman bait or that they write him as an infantile man child with a gun. There's a large contention of this fandom that has an obsession with Jason Todd being this vigilante gunman who is hot and sexy and while I definitely get the appeal. It is very creepy and downright disturbing that all of you hyperfixate on his use of guns and ability to be a murderer. It is creepy and I'm not necessarily here for it.

What I love about Jason Todd is that despite all of the pain, all of the heartache, all of the betrayal, and bullying, and death, and anguish. Jason Todd is one of the most loving and supportive characters in all of DC Comics. Jason has been through so much in his life, but he still chooses to love. He still chooses to see the bright side in people. Yes, he takes a utilitarian approach and chooses to kill certain villains, but at the end of the day he wants to see a better world, and he wants to be loved. It takes so much courage and so much heart to learn to love again after one has been abused or traumatized. I would not blame Jason at all if he said fuck it and just went full solo and vigilante evil. He has every right to, but he still chooses to be with the Bat Family of his own accord. That's something that I see a lot of in myself. I have been through a lot of trauma and yet I try to be a better person myself in any way that I can. It is extremely admirable of Jason to allow love back into his heart when he really doesn't need to. He kills and he protects because he has this love of society. It may have been shaped by anger and hatred, but Jason has found his place amongst people who love him and value him. I think Ducra, from Red Hood and the Outlaws put it best in the image given below.

To end this tangent, I love Jason Todd and all of his sexy dangerousness, but it's far more than that. As much as Jason may be dangerous and snarky, he loves his family without a shadow of a doubt. I look up to Jason Todd because despite all of his pain and all of his trauma, he still choses to love. Jason Todd is a character who is someone I love because despite all of his flaws and having a very toxic fandom, he still serves as a character filled with so much heart and so much passion. I wish more writers would understand that. But for now I will live with what I have. Even though the fandom may be vocal about it's hatred for his characterization, I choose to love Jason regardless because he is a character who chooses love and acceptance regardless of his pain. Jason Todd is by no means a good person in any sense of the word. He has easily killed upwards of 100 people by now. He is a character who is flawed and complex but ultimately is one who powers forwards and finds love and heart in a place from so much pain and anguish. That is what I love about Jason Todd. After all, to quote a famous undead robot superhero, "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Jason Todd chooses to love despite all of the trauma and pain and grief. Yes, he is hardened in his exterior, but inside there is a man with a lot of love to give and someone who deserves the world in my eyes.

#Long post GOD #Jason Todd #Red Hood #Bat Family #Batman #red hood and the outlaws #RHATO #RH:O #Batman Urban Legends #Red Hood Lost Days #TW Voltron #TW Death #tw murder #TW Klance #Gotta love how i am pouring my heart out onto jason AND calling out the Voltron fandom #Regardless love Jason Todd people

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stephreynaart · 3 years

Text

Gravity Falls - “Waiting”

Pop-Pop AU

Stan sits in a hospital waiting room, thinking about his life and the people he loves.

- - - -

This is kinda old, but I realized I never posted it on tumblr. Hope ya like it!

Lots of fluff, the only ships are Soos and Melody.

AO3 LINK

- - - -

It had a square aspect ratio. Ink pen and watercolor on white heat pressed cotton paper in a bland white frame. One single blue flower in a red vase with what looks like a yellowish shadow. One shadow going left, the other going right. The lack of confidence and inexperience was obvious, the lines were unfocused and jagged, the color plainly filled the shapes and gave no other visual interest to the image.

Below the frame was a small white card that read “Painting donated by Jessica Blaise from Gravity Falls Elementary School”

Stan scanned the painting at least 20 times while sitting in that chair. The too rough and too soft at the same time chair that had similar copies populating the almost white room he sat in. The wallpaper bouncing off light pinks and blues with tiny ducklings as a makeshift wainscoting was starting to irritate the old man. It was too bright, and the consistent buzz of the fluorescent lights seemed so loud. Stan adjusted himself in his chair, switching his crossed legs to a wider spread and leaned his head against the wall.

The only other stimulus in the room were a few posters promoting proper hand washing techniques, the play area with a small table and chairs with large blocks, crayons and that weird “game” with the metal wiring and wooden beads that’s in every waiting room Stan’s ever sat in. He played with the toys to give himself something to do after he read all the magazines. The novelty wore off fast.

The television mounted on the wall was airing some cooking channel with no sound and no subtitles. Looking at food when you haven’t eaten in a few hours was practically torture, so Stan had been averting his eyes.

There were other paintings on the wall, one was less of a painting, but instead a print of a painting. He doubted that the artist got any compensation from it, if they were still alive. The other was a charcoal drawing done by a student from the community college a town away. Another square, but the entire image was black, the brightest thing on the page was an intruding infant hand coming from the left with the arm fading into the dark background. The fingers seemingly mid-twitch and grabbing at something. The lighting was dynamic and interesting. Stan swore it was a drawing of a penis the first time he glanced at it, which resulted in his brother’s laughter. Stanley smiled at the memory, it was only a few hours ago, but he relishes any time he can make Stanford laugh.

Stan’s eyes darted at the door in the far corner when it opened suddenly. He eased back into his chair when the nurse crossed the room to talk with the receptionist. He couldn’t hear the conversation very well, but could tell they were just gossiping and making jokes. Nothing that was of his interest. So he looked back to the elementary school child’s painting and analyzed it again. His eyes were dry and he was tired. He wished he could sleep, the chair wasn’t comfortable enough and when he did managed to sleep, his neck was sore when he woke up. He was only lucky Ford let him use his shoulder as a pillow for a while. He looked to his left and noted the book his brother placed in the seat. It seemed thick and in what looked like Hebrew. Stan wasn’t very surprised Ford was fluent in the language they were acquainted with as children. Their grandparents on their father’s side were the last to be fully fluent in Hebrew. It was like his brother to be curious of their heritage, but Stan only remembered a few phrases and words he learned from holidays and special event when he had to recite anything in Temple.

Stan crossed his arms and glanced at the clock on the wall and let out an exasperated sigh. It had only been 10 minutes since he last checked the time. He wanted to be at home, be in his soft warm bed and getting ready to eat pancakes at this time in the morning.

He and Ford were on the porch of The Mystery Shack when Soos rushed them off to the hospital the yesterday afternoon. What he originally thought would be a couple of hours of waiting turned into almost twelve. Apparently labour can last a long time.

Stan wished he could be a witness for Soos and Melody like he was when Dipper and Mabel were born, but Melody wanted her privacy, which Stan could respect, but Soos wanted him there…..so he and Ford waited in this bright, annoyingly pastel waiting room, twiddling his thumbs awaiting the arrival of the new member of the mystery family. He was glad he was in at least comfortable clothes, some gray sweatpants and a sweater Mabel knitted for him that read “godfather”.

He was never clear on what the title entailed, but it was mentioned a few times by Soos’ grandmother and the kids insisted that Soos was intending to ask him. He hadn’t, but he didn’t protest Stan wearing the sweater. Whatever job godfathers had, he was willing to play the part if Soos were to ask him.

Stan looked at the double doors a few feet away that lead out of the waiting room and into the halls. His brother left to find something for them to eat, but was taking his sweet time. The turkey being basted on the television was no help in aiding his growling stomach.

He distracted himself by returning his thoughts to Soos and Melody. Just down the hall they were experiencing the strange and beautiful phenomenon that was witnessing the arrival of a brand new person. Stan remembered the feeling so clearly. His entire life he’s felt the presence of human beings. It’s inherent in most people to feel when someone is in the room with you, the other soul sharing the same space as you. Imagine being in a room with a set amount of people and someone else comes in, but imagine they came in without using a doorway. Just appearing seemingly out of thin air. Suddenly another person is with you, and they’re brand new to the world, a life full of potential and power. Yes, today is indeed a happy day, but no amount of positive thinking would ease Stan’s nerves. His foot began to bounce and his hands unconsciously began to fiddle with each other. He didn’t want to think anything would go wrong with Soos’ baby, but anything can happen and life is so fragile, especially at the start of it.

He recalled his nephew’s nervousness the day Dipper and Mabel were born. His hands were shaking and he was constantly checking on his wife and asking the doctors loads of questions. He didn’t fully understand the twins’ father’s behavior until the end of that day.

Mabel’s birth was swift and easy. Her mother only needed to push one and a half times before she was here. It was as if she was eager to meet everyone waiting for her. She cried like most babies do, but Stan could’ve sworn they were tears of joy. While Mabel was greeted with, “hello, beautiful”, “hi, sweetie” and “she’s perfect”, Her brother’s introduction to world started with, “what’s wrong?”, “wait, let me hold him”, and “he’s not moving”. Dipper was rushed out of the room before his mother got a chance to look at him. Stan managed to catch a glimpse of the horrifyingly blue tint on his great nephew’s tiny face. The memory still gave him chills. He remembered how much he wanted to hold Mabel, who began to fuss and cry, obviously missing her brother. He was terrified at the prospect of another incomplete set of twins in their family. After the longest 30 minute of his life, Stan’s great-nephew returned with a bright pink face, wailing with all the power his little lungs could produce. Once the twins were reunited in their mother’s arms, they settled down almost instantly. The doctors told their parents Dipper was significantly lighter in weight than his sister, but both were very strong and healthy. Every so often Stan thinks about Dipper and how much he has impacted his life. His thoughts lead to darker places and he questions if Ford would be here if Dipper wasn’t there to find the third journal. He shook his head as a cold shiver went up his spine.

Stan did his best to distract himself from revisiting the scare that Dipper caused him 16 years ago.

16 years…..17 in August

Stan blinked. The squishy, bright faces that stayed with him that first summer had changed significantly. They stayed in contact all year round and visited every summer since they were 12. But every in-person meeting was always a shock. Dipper was developing the square jaw Stan, both his brothers and nephew shared. He started to regularly wear glasses their second summer with the Stans. Poor kid will grow up looking like Filbrick like the rest of the Pines men. He reminded Stan of Ford at that age.

And Mabel…..

Stan will never get over how much she looks like his mother. It didn’t strike him until Soos and Melody’s wedding and she put her hair in a bun. She’s calmed her hyperactivity down a bit, but not by a lot, she still brightens his day with her wit and creativity. They’ve both matured physically, but not much has changed personality wise and they still acted like big children when they’re around each other. Stan loved them very much, and wished he could see them more often. He wondered what the future held for all of them. Would they still visit town after going to college? Would they move here? Or somewhere else?

He’s had several conversations with them to see how they’re managing the prospect of separating. They’re much better at communicating than he and Ford were and they seem actually excited to have some independence. It made Stan nervous, but he was sure their close relationship wouldn’t suffer.

Wendy chose to be elsewhere for the next few years. She and her friends booked a plane ticket and plan to backpack and hitchhike around Europe and the UK. Stan hopes they stay safe and watch out for each other. Lotta weirdos in Amsterdam. She was set to leave in the coming days, Wendy wanted to wait until today arrived so she could meet Soos and Melody’s kid before going away for who knows how long.

A tap on the shoulder woke Stan from his deep thoughts. His brother arrived with some warm sub sandwiches and coffee.

“Any word yet?, he asked Stan

“Nothin’ yet”, Stan felt helpless not having any clue how Soos and Melody were doing.

Stanford took his seat next to Stanley and they both silently enjoyed their late breakfast. Since arriving they’ve witnessed families reuniting and going past the door in the far corner to meet their children, grandchildren or siblings. Stan looked at the clock again. How has it only been another 5 minutes? He sighed, leaned back and finished the rest of his sub. One hand holding the sandwich, the other went back to gripping the arm rest, then a six fingered hand went down to rest on top of it. Stan let go of the armrest and tangled his fingers between Ford’s and held onto it with a, hopefully not too tight, grip. It was like an anchor to reality, much better at easing his anxieties than any words could. Over the past 4 years, Stan and Ford’s bond grew stronger. Stan still feared one day he would wake up and find himself still in that basement surrounded by broken machinery and languages he didn’t understand. He hasn’t yet, and was enjoying the time he had left with his twin. Stan took a moment to look at his brother again, Ford made eye contact and smiled then continued to read his book. Hands still intertwined

Stans thoughts went back to Soos…

It amazed Stan how much he had grown and it still baffled him that Soos idolized him as much as he does. Before Soos, Stan had no one. His brother was….gone, the rest of the family didn’t talk to him much outside of the holidays and special occasion. There hadn’t been any sense of consistency in Stan’s life for years, decades even, until he hired the chubby little kid he barely glanced at one random Saturday. Soos always arrived to work early, sometimes with breakfast for both of them. Stan didn’t know how much he needed a reliable companion until he had it and he enjoyed the 10 years he had with that kid… or man he should say. Here he was…a few rooms away, becoming a father.

Stan used to daydream a lot about the prospect of having kids when he was younger. He’s was always good with them when he had the chance to babysit his nephew, then later Dipper and Mabel when they were toddlers. He loved having kids in his house that first summer. He loved the energy and the sense of adventure the twins brought. They gave him a sense of purpose and belonging he hadn’t felt in years. He wished he was brave enough to have his own children. Not that he was ever with anyone long enough to want to have kids with him. He supposed it was for the best that he didn’t subject a child to homelessness or an unhappy marriage. He was also terrified at the idea. His dad used to say having kids ruined his life. He wondered who his father was before his older brother was born. Did they really ruin his life? Stan often wondered if he would be like his own dad if he has children of his own. Would he change and become that annoyed parent that resenting his children?

He thought about Soos again

That was probably the closest to parenthood he ever experienced. The first time he felt like one was when Soos asked him for homework help after closing. He initially told Soos no, he wasn’t exactly smart and didn’t think he would be any help. It apparently upset the kid, so Stan sighed and gave it a try. It was fairly simple middle school math, he didn’t remember everything, but helped Soos do more than half of it. Soos thanked him and went home happy. Stan felt weirdly proud, he was glad he made a small difference and managed to teach Soos something he didn’t even know he knew.

The second time was when Soos was a teenager. His grandmother wasn’t able to teach Soos to drive, since she had forgotten how and her late husband used to do the driving, she mostly walked everywhere. Soos offered to work for free so Stan could teach him. Stan loved driving and found teaching Soos cathartic. He was a fast and eager learner, he only bumped Stan’s car once while trying to figure out parallel parking. Little did Soos know that he was getting paid for his normal work hours. Stan just put it away long enough to help buy the kid some old used truck in the junkyard for getting his license. They fixed the truck up and in only a few weeks it was ready to be on the road. Soos has taken good care of it and it’s still his ride to this day

Stan was very proud of Soos. He taught the kid some basic self defense and managed to be a decent influence in his life. Soos at least has his priorities straight.

Stan was even glad to see that Soos was willing to question him. When the portal was reaching the final countdown, he didn’t hesitate to protect the kids from him when he thought Stan was dangerous. He didn’t know, none of them did, so he didn’t blame Soos for distrusting him. He hoped he never had to betray him again. They both had crappy dads, and Stan knew how Soos saw him. Stan was never really sure if he reciprocated those feelings. It felt natural to act the part, but to put a label as important as “dad” on Stan was daunting. Soos definitely deserves better than what he was given, Stan wasn’t sure if he was it.

Stan looked up at the familiar voices running towards him from the double doors.

“Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford!” Mabel waved to them

The two teenagers and Wendy walked in holding a balloon and various toys. They took some seats across from the Stans and asked how everyone was doing and if the baby arrived yet.

“Not yet, hopefully soon” Ford answered

Stan relaxed and silently enjoyed his family’s company. He laid his head back and leaned slightly on Ford to rest for a minute. His eyes shut as he listened to the kids joke around and talk amongst themselves. He squeezed Ford’s hand one more time before drifting off.

He knew he should’ve tried sleeping earlier, he wasn’t out for more than 15 minutes when Soos came into the waiting room. Stan’s eyes shot open and he was on his feet faster than he did when he was being chased by angry costumers as a door to door salesman. Soos’ red eyes sagged and he seemed exhausted, but carried a proud, wide smile across his face. He sniffed and wiped his eyes.

“It’s a boy”, he squeaked, “mom and baby are okay”

Dipper and Mabel were first to start the hugs, and the room filled with cheers of congratulations and love. Stan felt light as a feather giving Soos a hug and joking about child labor.

“Can we see him?”, Mabel bounced with anticipation

“Yeah, dudes!”, Soos gestured everyone past the corner door and into the suite. “But only for a little while, Melody has to sleep”

The room was small, dimly lit and warm. The Pines crew collectively lowered their voices as Melody came into view on the bedding holding a bundle of blankets decorated with small yellow ducklings. She was leaned back on a large pillow, covered in blankets and toted a soft smile on her face. Soos stroked her hair and picked up his little son to show to the Pines’. The younger twins got a look at him first,

Mabel squealed and cooed at the tiny infant. Then Wendy, who said hi to the baby and told Soos she’d make sure to send him gifts while she was away

“What’s his name?”, Mabel asked Melody

“I named him after my dad”, Melody replied, “Jacob”. She smiled sadly at the memory of the father she lost the year before.

Soos approached the Stans, Ford smiled and complimented the couple on a having such beautiful little boy, but shot Soos a look, who silently replied with another one. Something was up.

Finally Stan got a look at baby Jacob. “Wow” Stan smiled, patting Soos’ arm. “He looks exactly like you”

Soos laughed, “really? I think he looks like Melody”, there was a short silence before Soos spoke up again.

“Do you want to hold him, Mr Pines?”

Stan looked at Soos and smiled, “heh, sure”. He held his arms out. Soos lowered his arms to pass the baby to Stan, who scrunched his face up and started to fuss. Stan took the infant and managed to hold him with one arm. He bounced and shushed little Jacob until he calmed down. “Heya kid”, He’s held babies dozens of times, but something felt different about this one. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Stan felt an almost magnetic pull towards him. Jacob settled comfortably against Stan and continued his rest. Stan softly beamed at the tiny person in his arms.

“Hey, Stan?”

Stan lifted an eyebrow and looked at Soos, who was fidgeting with his hands and nervously smiling.

“Uh..”, he paused, taking in the sight of Stan holding his child. “You know about my dad”, Soos looked at Ford again, who shrugged and nodded. Stan studied Ford’s face, who’s eyes strayed away as he hid a small smile. Soos got his attention again.

“You uh…he wasn’t…”, Soos choked up, his voice strained a bit, “I met you when I was probably the loneliest I ever was in my entire life”. Stan pictured the little boy he hired on the spot, he didn’t remember him until Soos showed up at his door step the next day ready to work. He didn’t know how much that quick, thoughtless decision would change his life.

Soos perked up and walked across the room to a table and picked up the piece of paper sitting on it. Soos glanced at it, then at Stan and smiled, gaining some emotional strength it seemed.

“You mean a lot me”, Soos, “you were there when I really needed it, you gave me a job, taught me just about everything I know. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that”

Stan got a bit nervous, Was this him asking to be the godfather?Everyone was silent and curiously watching. Soos held his hand out and handed the paper to Stan. He adjusted his arm to properly hold Jacob in his arm and took it. Stan flipped the page and noticed it was the baby’s birth certificate. Stan eyes bounced off the page and read the various information: birthdate, weight, parents, but he froze when he read the full name. Stan’s wide eyes questioningly studied Soos’ face.

“Are you…”, Stan felt his own throat tightening, crap. Come on, not in front of everyone “really?”, he asked. Soos gave a genuine nod and sniffed.

“I uh” Soos cleared his throat, “I was wondering, since Jacob doesn’t have one…if you wanted to be…. his grandpa?

There it was

Stan felt dizzy and took a small step back before remembering who was in his hands and regained his balance. Ford came to his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Stan decide not to look at his brother and chose to stare forward, then his eyes went back to Soos, who look deflated. Oh man. Stan was terrified, he didn’t want to say no and hurt Soos, but if he said yes….he wasn’t sure what made him so nervous. The entire concept sounded so alien to him, like he didn’t deserve the title. He always considered Soos, Melody and their son a part of his family. But to bare a title like “grandpa”, had to mean he had children that that children. That he was already a parent without his knowledge. It all felt so natural to want to lean into this and become part of this family like Soos wanted.

He heard something make a noise from beneath himself. Stan looked down at little Jacob, who was mid yawn. The baby’s mouth grew wide opens and inhaled, scrunching up his face and suddenly shut. Suddenly two tiny eyes opened for just a few seconds, enough time for Stan to make eye contact before Jacob shut them and got comfortable again

Everything was different now.

Stan didn’t notice how quiet the room had gotten nor the tears forming in his eyes. Stunned by beauty and overcome with pride and a sense of purpose. The pride he felt teaching Soos math, how to drive and attending his graduation all combined just looking at the perfect being in his arms. If he said yes, he would want everything that came with it. Stan lifted the birth certificate up to read the name again.

Jacob Stanley Ramirez

“Y-Yes”, he heard a shaken voice say, almost not realizing it was his own “of course”. He looked at Soos, tears in his eyes and a bright smile on his face. He still wasn’t sure if he deserved this, but Stan wanted it. He wanted it all. Why not indulge just this once? He gave the certificate to Ford and used his now free hand to pull Soos into a hug. Gently sandwiching his…..grandson in between him……and his son.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fan fiction #stanley pines #stanford pines #soos ramirez #melody #mabel pines #dipper pines #wendy corduroy #pop pop au #poppop!stan #dad!soos #dad!stan

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deniigi · 3 years

Text

So @petrichordiam and I are menaces and giggled over our ideal dinluke flower shop AU for like 4 hrs and then I wrote this.

Title: murderer next door

Summary: Din works as a florist and Luke works as a bookseller and they’re both assassins trying to keep the other off their turf.

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

Two times now, Luke had crashed past that flower shop, and two times now, the fucker inside had taken out his mark. Now all Luke had to say about the whole thing was that it was too bad that he was going to have to kill the guy.

Han told him not to turn back. The mark was dead; the mark was gone. They weren’t fast enough this time, but there would be others.

Luke just couldn’t let it go, though. He had rent to pay, and McFloristApron over there was smashing through all his targets and making that nigh impossible—regardless of how many marks there were in the area.

Luke waited until Han had closed up shop for the night and remained there in the dark with his arm slung over the back of the chair in the backroom, surrounded by books. He rolled his shot of whiskey in its tumbler. The sound against the old wood table offered no comfort.

He stood up and left the glass to get his laptop.

He wasn’t losing to some florist, Han, sorry. Only one family could take innocuous cover on this street, and it was them.

---

McFlorist’s name wasn’t listed on the florist’s staff page, but then again, none of the people on that page had names. In fact, the website’s whole vibe was all wedding-chic until you clicked on the ‘staff and contacts’ tab. Then, it may as well have been a line of mugshots.

Luke squinted along the row of increasingly involved headgear until he got to someone with a reasonably-sized neck with no tats. The ladies on either side of him appeared to have sapped all the ink out of McFloristApron. He wore a mask over the lower half of his face and gave a stoic thumbs up to the camera.

Under his picture was the number fifteen.

Damn.

Luke was only making eight per pop. Who the hell was this guy eating up all the feeder fish, huh? Them lower division folks had to eat too, you know.

Well.

‘Lower division’ in a sense of the word. Being two times undercover wasn’t super glamorous, Luke had to say. But when your dad fucked it up for the first family, sometimes you had to take what you could get.

Luke pointed at Fifteen on the screen.

“You and me, pal,” he said. “You and me.”

Step one was to get paid first.

Luke chased down three marks on the other side of town to pay the rent and the medical bills for now. His hand’s new sleeve felt like a dream. It didn’t overheat like the nylon black one did, and the hand was far less shiny now as a bonus. That had certainly reduced the number of people catching something move out of the corner of their eye.

Was it worth fifty grand?

No.

Was it worth the last nine that Luke had left to pay on it?

Yeah. It was definitely worth the nine.

------

Step two was to go make it clear to Fifteen McFlorist that he and his folks needed to back down in the face of the established guard.

Luke put on his biggest sweater and the thickest glasses he could find. He stole Chewie’s messenger bag with all the pins on it. He slung it over his shoulder and rolled the hems of his jeans up just a smidge too much, then scurried over to the florist’s across the way.

Fifteen was off to the side of the register, fucking around with something in the refrigerator. Luke busily and noisily looked through the wall of foliage on the side of the shop nearest the window. He hummed. He hawed. He made anxious nerd-sounds until a voice asked, “Hi, can I help you?”

Luke glanced out of the corner of his eye and found that Fifteen was standing facing his way now. His mask was gray this time. His apron was orange. His boots were too heavy-looking for florist work.

“I’d love that,” Luke gushed breathlessly. “See, my mom just got engaged and I’m on the way to her house.”

Fifteen lifted his chin slightly.

“What’re her favorites?” he asked tonelessly.

Terrible customer service skills, dude.

“Roses,” Luke said.

“Ours are shit today,” Fifteen said. “How about dahlias?”

Luke didn’t know what those were but sure.

“That sounds great,” he said. “You have any in pink?”

--------

He watched Fifteen brutalize some pink, orange, and white flowers into a bouquet wrapped with a silver bow and was sure to smile every time the guy looked up.

“That’ll be $37.59.”

Sir, these are dead flowers. There is no need for that price.

“Can I put it on card?” Luke asked. “How long have you worked here, if you don’t mind me asking? I work just across the way is all.”

Fifteen’s dark gaze flicked up. His hair was covered by a gray beanie two shades darker than the mask.

“At the club?” he asked.

“The bookshop,” Luke corrected him with a shy, but widening smile.

Please be gay. Please be gay. Please be gay. Leia wasn’t going to want to cooperate. She thought it was beneath her to establish boundaries like this.

“Blue paint,” Fifteen said. “Yeah, that place. How long have you been there?”

“My brother-in-law’s place, actually,” Luke said. “I started there last year after I finished college.”

Or, you know, maybe even eight years ago when he’d finished college. No one had to know. Baby faces don’t kiss and tell after all.

“Huh. You must like it there,” Fifteen said.

“It’s fine,” Luke hummed. “You like it here?”

“The kid does.”

“Oh, you’re a father?” Luke asked. “How old?”

“He’s three,” Fifteen said. “Godson. His folks were in an accident; didn’t make it.”

“That’s terrible, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Luke said. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Fifteen handed him his card back. Luke’s hand didn’t close in time to catch it and it fell onto to the wooden counter.

“Sorry about that,” Luke said, reaching for it with the other hand. His knuckles bumped into Fifteen’s when he went for the card at the same time. They both paused and went for the card again with the same result. Luke laughed.

“Slippery, am I right?” he asked, flattening his fingers on top of the piece of plastic and snatching it away.

“Very,” Fifteen said. “I hope your mom likes them.”

“Me too,” Luke smiled. “I’ll see you around—What was your name?”

“You can call me Armando,” Fifteen said.

“Armando,” Luke sounded out. “It suits you.”

It was a falsie.

“And yours?”

“James.”

“It suits you.”

It didn’t.

“Bye now,” Luke said. “Thanks for your help.”

He let the door fall closed behind him with the tinkle of the bell.

--------

He informed Han that “Armando” had a toddler and received only a warning look and a scolding for all his effort. Han told him not to get jealous. If there was a kid in the balance, then Fifteen, for better or worse, was going to have to see each day after the next until there was no longer a kid in the balance.

Luke offered to call CPS and report “Armando” as an assassin.

“You do that and those folks across the street are gonna call the VA and tell them I’m an assassin,” Han said. “Lay low, Luke. Lay low.”

Never.

“Christ. At least until that thing’s yours then.”

Luke glared at his right hand.

“Gimme a double,” he told Han without looking away from it.

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

It was never easy to hunt in the daylight, but Luke wasn’t here to do easy things. He needed to get Mark No. 1 alone. The man took the train once a week to a gentleman’s club on his lunch break. Luke needed a change of clothes.

He had a rainbow windbreaker, white boots, and fishnets all ready to go.

He got on the same train as the mark and dropped his phone nearby. It clattered loudly and the case came off. Luke swore and squatted to drop it at the same time that two girls next to him decided to become good Samaritans. They crouched with him and one of them caught the phone first. They handed it back with a smile.

“I like your jacket,” she said.

Luke let his face struggle to find a smile at her kindness to him, a sweet little twink trying to find the pride parade that happened two weeks ago.

“Thanks,” he said. “I like your bracelet.”

He stood up. The girls were pleased with themselves. Luke glanced back to find Mark No. 1 turn his head abruptly away.

Come here, Markie.

Do you like what you see?

Mark No. 1 didn’t make it out of his hotel room. A pity. Luke took the elevator down and huffed and puffed about a cheap date when he passed the front desk. He stopped abruptly and went back to ask the receptionist what the cross street was. She judged his go-go boots.

He told her she wasn’t his type. Her manager gave him the cross street.

Mark No. 2 had different parameters.

----------

Mark No. 2’s parameters involved chasing him through a maze of boiler rooms and dumpsters. He was chump change towards a hand that Luke hadn’t wanted in the first place, but alas. The anger still roared.

Luke cornered him, still in go-go boots—no need to sacrifice style for speed—and watched those pale eyes look every which way as Mark No. 2 realized that there was no getting out of this.

“You got options, friend,” Luke said. “I can bring you in hot or I can bring you in—”

“—cold.”

His head snapped up and he lurched out of the way just as the crack of a bullet exploded in the alley. A car backfired around the corner in a sympathetic cough. Luke stared at the body then twisted around just in time for a thick glove to latch onto the back of his neck.

“Well, look who it is,” Fifteen drawled.

Luke glared out of the corner of his eye.

“Hands off, Armando,” he warned.

“I like your boots.”

“You’re gonna love ‘em when they’re on your dick,” Luke warned.

“Back off, Nayberry.”

Fucking hell, Han. This is why they should have set up boundaries weeks ago.

“I prefer ‘James,’” Luke said sweetly.

The glock levelled at his face didn’t care.

“You took my mark,” Fifteen said.

“Aw, poor baby,” Luke pouted. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you took mine.”

Fifteen’s orange apron was gone. He’d swapped it for an old leather jacket—something he could more easily wipe clean. He should’ve gone for patent leather. The brown really wasn’t working with his grey mask-beanie situation.

“Stay in your lane,” Fifteen warned.

“Only if you stay in yours,” Luke beamed.

Fifteen huffed.

“Bookstore,” he scoffed. “Who’d you give the flowers to?”

Luke tsked.

“Myself, jackass,” he said.

“Do you even have a mom?”

“What the fuck business is that of yours? You even got a kid?”

Fifteen’s stare was deadly—the cooling body before them notwithstanding.

“Take one step near him and we won’t be talkin’ so friendly, yeah?”

Mm. Yeah.

“You owe me four grand,” Luke informed Fifteen as the glock went down and Fifteen left him to go take a pulse.

The man’s back stiffened.

“Four?” he asked. “You took this job for four?”

Luke rolled his eyes.

“I got bills, Armando,” he drawled.

“How do you keep that shed open? Have you sold even one book?”

Rude. Luke was a great sales associate. If he actually cared to put his mind to it, he’d be worthy of a promotion to manager.

He pulled the rising legs of his shorts down and adjusted the weapon in his windbreaker. He couldn’t leave the alley the way he’d gone into it. Someone might have seen. He was going to have to take a side street. Hmmm, which one? Choices, choices.

“I’ll give you a Dad’s discount. Gimme two grand, and you can have him,” Luke negotiated as he thought.

“Two.”

Hey, no need for that tone. This was a great deal.

“What’re you gonna do with two?” Fifteen asked, already knelling down to heft the body over his shoulder as proof for payment.

“Buy some more tights,” Luke deadpanned. “Two, final offer.”

Fifteen stood up all the way and gave him a weird look. A long look. His beanie was pulled down low, but Luke got the impression that he was frowning at him.

“Take the four,” he said out of nowhere. “I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

Luke recoiled a step at first, then recoiled another when the reality of the situation hit him full in the chest.

“Forget it,” he snapped.

He spun around and started to leave.

“Wh—hey. HEY. Where are you goin’?”

“I don’t need your fuckin’ pity,” Luke called ahead of him as he set to climbing the chainlink fence separating him from the adjacent dead-end alley.

“You what?”

“You heard me,” Luke said.

He jumped down. His left hand found his right wrist and squeezed as he walked.

-------

The phantom pains kept him up all night, and it was definitely that and not the humiliation that made him call in sick. Han told him to answer his therapist’s emails. Luke told him to go do something useful and hung up. He rolled onto his back on his bed and focused on letting his body relax, his jaw unclench, his joints go limp.

There was sunlight finally streaming through his apartment windows again. It had been months.

Spring was almost here. He just had to hold out a little longer.

--------

He came in to work the next day and found an envelope on his chair in the backroom. It was thick.

“McFlorist dropped it off,” he said between aggravated sounds at his spreadsheets.

“Is it tax season already?” Luke asked him as he tried to burn a whole in the center of the envelope with his mind.

“Sure fuckin’ is.”

He stepped forward and snatched up the envelope, then deposited it squarely in Han’s lap. He made an unattractive noise of confusion and alarm.

“For the taxes,” Luke called as he went out to grab his lanyard and name tag. “Gotta keep this place open for another six months at least.”

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

There were new books in. A new shipment to shelve. Two kids’ displays to set up. And Luke was actually good at this stuff, thanks; he started stacking.

He got peace until he nearly got to the end of the second display, and then what he had was a heart attack. Two liquid brown eyes surrounded by an ocean of ringlets stared up at him from between his knees. The child curled a hand in and out in hello.

Luke jerked himself up to locate the thing’s parents immediately, and promptly found himself in deadly eye-contact with Fifteen.

Armando.

“You were gone yesterday,” Fifteen said flatly.

Luke looked between him and the kid. He was pinned between two enemy parties. How to escape, how to escape.

“Are you sick?”

How to escape. How to escape. How to escape.

“Are you hurt?”

H—what?

“I’m fine, stalker,” Luke snapped with more heat than this present cover allowed. He caught himself and pulled it back. “I’m fine,” he repeated. “Thank you for asking. Is this…?”

Fifteen blinked once. The child blinked once as well. It was creepy.

“He’s mine,” Fifteen said. “And apparently the only thing that will get us through the next two hours is a book.”

Dude.

“Kids are kids,” Fifteen said. “You got any books?”

Luke stared at him, then checked the shelves to make sure he hadn’t teleported into another dimension.

You always had to check.

“We’re in a bookstore,” he said.

“He can’t read,” Fifteen said, pointing.

The kid grinned. His teeth were gapped in that toddler sort of way. He was kind of cute.

“You can’t read?” Luke asked him.

“Hi,” Baby said.

Oh no.

Luke loved him.

“How much?” he asked Fifteen.

“Touch him and you’ll be permanently comatose,” Fifteen said.

“Not if I died out of spite,” Luke said.

There was a long pause. Then Fifteen started laughing? Kind of hard?

“Oh my god, that was so unprofessional. I am so sorry,” Luke blurted out.

Fifteen collected himself and shook his head. His little one giggled and reached for Luke’s fingers.

“Boo,” he said.

Luke couldn’t feel the hand, but he could feel all the heart.

“Book?” he asked, crouching down. “Do you want a story?”

“Mmmm.”

“I have the perfect one,” Luke told him. “It’s about a caterpillar. Do you know what a caterpillar is?”

He got a slow, exaggerated head shake back and forth, back and forth. He stood up straight.

“I’m conducting a temporary kidnapping,” he informed Fifteen. “Do I have consent?”

Fifteen looked from him towards the front entrance and mulled over the merits of leaving his kid with his rival assassin. Then he shrugged.

“Consent granted,” he said. “Luke.”

Luke’s heart stopped.

“James,” he said.

“Your name tag says ‘Luke.’”

Well, fuck.

“Luke Nayberry. It suits you.”

Hhhhhhh. This was karma, wasn’t it.

“Thanks,” he gritted out. “And yourself, Armando?”

“Din.”

Woah, look out. Mr. One-Syllable-Cool-Man had entered the building.

“Din, what?” Luke asked as his arm registered tension. Din’s kid had latched onto his fingers and started pulling incessantly with a chubby hand gesturing in the direction of the wall of children’s books.

“Don’t you worry about it,” Din said.

“Fine, go trip then,” Luke said.

He swore that there was a smile under that mask.

----------

#dinluke #luke skywalker #ficlet #fic #I can't take any trope seriously it turns out #perhaps I am simply too old now to appreciate them #the mandalorian

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mrs-cavill-wife · 3 years

Text

Forbidden Witch (1/?)

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Female Reader (Cassandra of Boudicca)

Warning: Fantasy. Language. Forbidden Love. Tell me if I miss something.

Author's Note: Here I go again writing inspired on a dream I had. I can say, besides "The Tudors", there's a little of "The Witcher" too because there's familiar monsters and characters. Most of the name of places on this fanfic is all my creation but some I searched on Google or asked help from my friends. Hope you guys enjoy it, reblog if you do and I'm all ears to feedback! My tag List this time is for my last followers, THANK YOU SO MUCH! Part 2 coming soon!!

Tag List: @lexyvaldez26 @thereisa8ella @natura1phenomenon @mrsavery @number1chonie @themanfromu @littlefreya @legendarywizarddetective @lovingbearherringhairdo @zealoushound @deangal-101 @everydaymultifandom @summersong69 @jgtfvhsg @tellingyouastory @sillyrabbit81 @nuggsmum @pussyverson @oh-for-fic-sake @foodieforthoughts @fanficlover91 @r-t-doll @its--fandom--darling @poledancingdinos @hlkwrites @rmtndew

Riding under the moonlight, this is definitely one of the things that brings me peace. I love to run aimlessly with my horse, Atlas.

Was having a little party in the village, my village, the place where I was born. Boudicca. In fact, I spent more time at Aretuza, a school for witches, sorceress. I was "discovered" when I was about eight years old. My parents were simple traders, workers, but the income was never enough for the three of us.

I remember the day when I was playing with the pigs, few of which had not yet been sold and that woman appeared. Skinny, with a beautiful gray dress, perfectly neat hair, looked like a queen at the time. Tissaia. I saw her watch me for a long moment, before the question that would change my life.

"How much do you want for the girl?"

Yes. She wanted to buy me. I was in shock for the moment. She and my parents argued for a long time and I just wondered what would a rich woman want with a muddy little girl? A new servant, perhaps? No, she must surely have millions.

Today I know, Tissaia is tricky, smart, knows the words to use. Like a snake observing the prey, taking notes of the moves, the weakness and the best moment to the first attack. She had been watching me and my family. I had called her attention when she was passing through Boudicca, she saw a lot of potential in me, despite my young age, I would be her apprentice.

And so it was done. She made a deal with my parents. She would pay them a kind of penance, a new house, enough to live in safe and happy, but they would have to forget me. I could hate them but I know they didn't have much of a choice. I knew that they loved me and did it to save me, they had in mind that I would have a good life and become something bigger than any opportunity I would have there.

And technically, that's what happened. Aretuza was difficult, the other students were much older than me, more sure of themselves, some came from noble families. I was scared but over time I became determined. I became one of the best and youngest witches in Aretuza, Tissaia said that my power was pure chaos and more. I could destroy an entire kingdom if I wanted to. So good, Tissaia said that I could become a dean just like her, or maybe something like an assistant, she would love to have me by her side but it was never my will and unfortunately for her, I went down my own path when she had nothing more to teach me anymore. It was the first time that I saw a small hint of sadness in her strong image on the day I left.

She is the one who gave me the Atlas. She said it was an albino horse, rare, just like me. I hugged her. Tissaia of Vries is a tough woman, obviously she didn't return my action, but she watched me as I rode away. Until my image disappears from her field of vision.

It was a long journey but I returned to Boudicca. A few years had passed and unfortunately, when I arrived, the city lived in poverty and my parents.. had died of an illness. I blamed myself for a few days. I could have helped them but I couldn't have known they were succumbing.

I remember visiting our old house, or what was left of it. I felt something so strong inside me, I think it was the first time that I lost control, when I realized, my hands were red, bleeding from my nose and fire was mirrored. After that, with the help of the surrounding residents, I built a new home.

And since then, I decided to stay. I help people. With their illnesses, attacks by monsters, thieves, disappearances and every kind of problem you can imagine. I even once helped a poor gentleman who was "unable to fulfill his duty as a husband" with his young wife.

There is a bit of everything here and I venture to say, since I stayed things improved a lot, I was known, at least here. "The famous Cassandra of Boudicca, our savior".

My thoughts of my story went away, a noise in the water caught my attention. It was night, everything was dark, except for the moonlight. I left Atlas eating grass and went looking for the sound. I passed through a bush and saw. A little blonde boy. Swimming. All by himself. What a dumb idea.

I was determined to leave but something in the water caught my eye. A pair of eyes? Oh no. At least, six pair of eyes. Getting closer and closer to the little boy. FUCKING NEKKERS.

"BOY, GET OUT OF HERE"

My scream was enough to make the Boy look at me and stop. Of course, an opportunity for those monsters to attack, and so they did. FAT FUCKING SHIT.

I ran towards the boy, held out my hand and he grabbed it. I pulled him out of the lake and behind me, casting a spell towards the group of Nekkers. It was enough to push them away, but not enough to make them give up.

Now, I was the first option. They tried to attack me but they are nothing to me. I lures them out of the lake, with the boy behind me, and as soon as they are all on dry land, I cast a fire spell, turning them into a "beautiful" barbecue in a few seconds.

Seeing their dead bodies, I took a deep breath and looked at the boy, crossing my arms. He signed, it seemed like something part of his everyday because he knew what my first question would be and answered me.

"I know it is late and dangerous. I ran away. I was to swim a little and knew that my father would not let me. But don't worry, the royal guard must already be behind me, it's not the first time."

Dear lord, what's up with those kids those days?

"Do you know your way back home?"

He nodded and I huffed. I grabbed his hand walking on my way back to Atlas.

"Where are we going?"

I put him on my horse's back, climbing immediately afterwards and starting to ride.

"Back home, little troublemaker"

It wasn't a long journey, but that boy talked a lot. I learned that his name was Eric, son and heir to the kingdom of Aluma, his father was Alexander, and his mother, Queen Madeline. I also learned that he loves to escape. Poor parents.

#henrycavill rp #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #charles brandon #charles brandon x reader #charles brandon x you #the witcher #the tudors

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jimlingss · 3 years

Note

hi!! for the requests, could I suggest hoseok, fluff, fake dating au, and the sentence 'I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.' thank you!

↳ Humdrum Amore

2.7k || 100% Fluff || Jung Hoseok

“I never thought I’d come back here one day.”

You stare at the brown building that you once dreaded. The same structure that you had to drag your feet into every morning five days a week after your dad dropped you off. But instead of feeling apprehension, there’s a sense of prickling nostalgia while you look at the building.

“Same.” The man beside you exhales, staring at the green field, the brown doors and small windows covered by blinds. “But it’s not all that bad, right?”

You turn to Hoseok who looks sharp in his simple suit and tie ensemble. You’ve seen him in the same clothes plenty of times, but while you’re wearing your red dress and you’re lingering in front of the school, it feels like the two of you have returned to being awkward eighteen year olds nervously going to prom together as friends.

But Hoseok eases you. “Come on.”

He takes your hand, a gesture you still aren’t used to, and tugs you inside.

The moment the doors are open, you follow the signs leading to the gymnasium and you’re met with a table of refreshments and goody bags. But more importantly, there are people already mingling in all corners. Some are wandering while most have gathered into groups to reminisce. There are those that you recognize and those whose faces have long faded in your memories.

High school. A time of pubescent years, of growing up and trying to prove yourselves while figuring out your future. You have mixed feelings about that time. All you know is that you’re glad it’s over.

“Y/N?” There’s a higher pitched voice to the left and you turn to see Tiffany approaching with a wide smile. “Hoseok?! Oh my god, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you guys! How are you?”

You hug her for a second. “It’s good. You?”

“Yeah.” She exhales as if she can’t believe you’re together again and you admit, it is surreal. There was definitely a difference from glancing at someone’s post, status and updates on social media and seeing them in person. “It’s been great. I didn’t know if you were coming to this reunion or not.”

You smile, glancing at Hoseok. He was right about coming. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Someone walks by with a tray of cheap champagne and all three of you take a glass, thanking the waiter. Tiffany sips her drink and gets down to the nitty-gritty. “So tell me, what do you do now?”

You brace yourself, knowing this was coming. “I’m working as an embryologist at a fertility lab.”

“That’s so cool!” Her eyes widen and she genuinely appears fascinated. “It sounds super fancy.”

You laugh, concealing the note of awkwardness in your voice. Tiffany doesn’t know that it sounds much better than it actually is. It’s an entire step down from being a family doctor, an occupation which you once said was your dream. And she has no clue that you’re struggling under your strict manager, that you just received a cut in pay and your hours are strenuous.

But you don’t dare show your exhaustion. Or your discontentment.

You keep flashing a bright smile.

Everyone in high school expected you to do great, that you would go somewhere, do something. You were the smart one. The hard-working one. There’s always been a certain burden of expectations on your shoulders from your parents to your teachers, and perhaps that’s where the need to prove yourself to your former peers stems. If they knew how mundane and regular and normal you turned out — instead of being the successful achiever — you’re sure their disappointment would have a bigger effect on you more than you’d ever admit.

And maybe that’s why Hoseok offered to pretend to be your partner for the night after you grieved about not being with anyone, when you struggled to find a plus one. He knows you best after all.

“What are you doing?” you ask Tiffany, and she hesitates, looking down at her drink for a second.

“Actually, I’m in-between jobs at the moment.” She musters a smile. “The economy sucks right now.”

You sympathize. “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s hard to find a job these days.”

Tiffany turns to Hoseok and when she asks what he’s been up to, he says, “Nothing much. I’m working in IT as a development manager for this company.”

“Oh, that’s super cool too!” She’s about to ask something, but then her eyes incidentally stray downwards. You follow her line of sight, realizing that she’s looking at the way you’re holding hands with Hoseok.

“We’re...actually dating now,” you explain.

Instantaneously, Tiffany brightens. “You guys started dating after high school? When?!”

You laugh awkwardly. “Two...three years ago?” It doesn’t sound terribly convincing, so you try a second time, standing your ground. “Two, I think.” It falls a bit short, but she doesn’t notice.

No. Tiffany absolutely gushes. “That’s so cute! Oh my god! I always thought you’d both be good together!”

That has you taken aback. The relief of getting away with your lie and not being caught gets overtaken by surprise. “Really?”

“Well yeah. You were always close friends and everyone,” she emphasizes the word by drawing it out, “knew Hoseok had a huge crush on you.”

This was news to you.

But Hoseok outright ignores your stare in favour of smiling at your old friend and holding up your interlaced hands by your heads as if it’s a trophy. “Well, looks like I got the girl in the end.”

“Are you gonna propose any time soon then?”

There’s a glint of mischief in Hoseok’s eye. “Maybe.”

He’s way too good at lying. You’re starting to get convinced this is real.

“Aw, I wish I was at this honeymoon stage again. Everything’s so sweet and cute.”

Speaking of which. “Where’s Nick?” you ask.

Tiffany deflates slightly at the question and you wonder if you said something wrong. You don’t understand until she says, “Oh….yeah...we decided to split up a few months ago.”

“Really?” You would’ve never expected it. From what you remember, they were one of the few high school sweethearts that actually made it in the long run, a couple that you used to be jealous of at sixteen. They ended up getting married too and you saw pictures of them traveling together a year ago. Who knew what her life was actually like behind the scenes. “I’m...so sorry, Tiffany.”

“It’s alright. Life happens, I guess, but it all worked out in the end and we both have joined custody of Sunny. It gets messy sometimes but as long as she’s happy, I am too.” She smiles softly and then nods. “Well, it was really nice to catch up with you two. I’m happy to hear you’re going out. Better put a ring on this one before you lose her, Jung.”

“I will,” he promises.

Tiffany leaves to catch up with a girl she knew from choir, so you both bid your goodbyes. But somehow, the conversation leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

After greeting a few more old friends and acquaintances, you leave to the hallway.

The nostalgia slams into you, stronger than before. If you stare long enough, you can picture the hall crammed with your classmates, how you ran from class to class, sat in the desks, bored out of your mind and at times, stressed. The walls and rooms hold so many of your memories without them knowing. And that in itself makes you feel old and gray, even though you aren’t.

Not yet, at least. Hoseok always reassures you that you have another good thirty years before you’re allowed to call yourself old.

Said man glances at your expression and reads it like an open book. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You sigh. “It’s just….I don’t know. I was trying to save face this entire time and I even went as far as to lie about our relationship.”

“You didn’t do it alone. I lied too.”

“Yeah, but I wanted this.” You shake your head, slowly rounding a corner and making your way down what you remember as the science corridor. “People probably have more going on with themselves than to care what I’m up to. I don’t know why I was so scared about what they would think about me.”

The corner of his mouth curls, and he nudges you with his elbow. “It’s high school.”

You lightly scoff but a smile tickles at your lips. “I just feel bad. Tiffany was so honest about herself, and she wasn’t ashamed about how her life turned out, not like I am.”

“No one turned out how they expected themselves to,” he hums in a thoughtful tone while glancing at the bulletin board tacked with handmade flyers for clubs. “It’s okay if you didn’t end saving the planet or finding the cure to cancer.”

You snort and soften. “Yeah.”

Hoseok always knows what to say to make you feel better.

“Look!” The peaceful moment is interrupted by the sheer volume of his voice. He points down the hall. “Our old lockers!”

You laugh, quickening your steps with his. The lockers are not technically yours anymore, they haven’t been for a long time and have probably been through tens of students since. Even right now, there are unfamiliar locks that keep them closed. But you still remember which one was yours.

You stand in front of it and Hoseok stands in front of his which is only three lockers down from yours.

The pair of you look at one another, exchanging grins. “Remember when I kept your math textbook for you since you were too lazy to put it away and we had to toss it to each other every morning?”

“Yeah. I never missed once.” He laughs and it’s a bubbly sound that’s exactly the same as back then. “Remember that time Taehyung stuffed himself inside my locker and we locked him in?”

You burst out laughing. “We almost got into trouble by Mr. Min!”

“Yep. That old man was always trying to pick on kids.”

“Except for that time Jimin launched that cake across the hall and it landed on some poor girl. He was nowhere to be found.”

Hoseok grins and comes over to lean on the blue locker next to yours, crossing his arms like he’s waiting for you before you’re late for the bell.

A sentimental feeling that is both wistful and happy washes you over again. You can recall those years as if they were yesterday. Namely, Hoseok would always be there when you closed your locker door, in the exact same position, staring at you with that identical warm expression. You don’t know a lot of your old high school friends anymore, don’t know what they’re doing or if they’ll come. It’s a natural progression of life, of going different paths and naturally drifting apart.

But Hoseok has always been your side. Since then till now.

“So.” You turn to him. “What’s this about everyone knowing you had a crush on me?”

Hoseok goes wide-eyed and says nothing for a moment. Then he scratches the back of his neck. “Just stupid kid stuff.”

You raise a brow and hum. “Didn’t sound like stupid kid stuff. How long did you even like me for?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“I’m curious.” You shrug. “I never heard about this before.”

Hoseok is embarrassed, that much is obvious. You can tell by the way he’s brushing around the subject, not looking you in the eyes, how much he’s hesitating. It’s not like him and that makes you even more intrigued. “A while.”

Maybe you shouldn’t push him so much when he doesn’t want to talk about it. But for some reason, there’s a burning desire inside of you to know. After all, you thought you knew all of your best friend’s secrets.

“What’s a while?”

“Like sixth grade?”

Your jaw drops. “So when we met?”

“Yeah..?” Hoseok seems unsure and he’s staring at the other wall as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. There’s nothing but a dirty shoe print on it. “Something like that.”

Now it’s your turn to be perplexed. Although, for an entirely different kind of reason. “But why?”

He turns his head, as if sensing you’re about to self-deprecate yourself. “You’re funny and smart and pretty, Y/N. Everyone liked you,” Hoseok explains it as if it’s factual and your cheeks grow warm.

You suck in your cheek, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. “Then why didn’t you ever tell me you liked me?”

“I was awkward and I was too scared you’d reject me,” he exhales and you glance at him to find an unreadable expression. Perhaps he’s uncomfortable at the idea now that he’s grown out of it and he knows you too well. Or maybe...just maybe...he’s filled with regret.

You shake off the thought before your imagination runs wild.

You’re about to drop the subject once and for all, but as you turn away, the quiet mutter slips from your mouth, “I wouldn’t have.”

Hoseok catches it.

He freezes completely and when you realize he’s not following you back to the gymnasium, you turn around. “Earth to Hoseok. What’s wrong?”

“What about now?”

“What?”

His expression is blank aside from the slight furrow of his brow. It’s not often Hoseok’s entirely serious and you’re caught off guard by his demeanour. He closes the distance in three strides and asks, “If I asked you out now, if I said I wanted to date you for real, would you reject me?”

His gaze is dark. Intense. As if he’s mustered up the courage he’s built for years for this very moment.

Your mouth opens, eyes unable to look away from him and your voice pipes out a timid— “no.”

In an instant, Hoseok’s mouth is on yours. Your back slams against the lockers as he cradles your cheeks in his palms, tilting his head to capture your lips carefully yet eagerly. You whine in his grasps and quickly reciprocate, moving your mouth against his. It’s soft, warm and comforting. Hoseok has always been comforting to you. A slow burn rather than a bursting firework that eventually fades away. A warm bonfire that’s built from the first spark rather than a forest wildfire that ultimately burns out after consuming everything.

You’ve always loved him. But perhaps it wasn’t always purely platonic like you thought. At least not until tonight where that’s been challenged.

Hoseok's body is firm and warm against yours. His knee is placed between your thighs and you loop your arms around his neck to get him even closer. Your senses are filled with his cologne, the lingering scent of his shaving cream and shampoo. Hoseok tastes like the champagne he drank and you’re beginning to feel dizzy from it. That or you’re running out of breath.

You whimper rather pathetically, but he doesn’t let up. Not until you push at his shoulder and he has to gather his self-restraint to part from you.

You’re left panting heavily against him, lips swollen and Hoseok exhales before laughing. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

You grin. “Always?”

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Practically.”

Never would you have thought Hoseok would kiss you against your lockers. It’s another memory you’re making in these walls even after years of graduating. But you’d like a second time to make up for all the others, so you start to tug Hoseok’s tie to get him closer again—

“Hey!”

There’s an ear-splitting shout and the two of you flinch, whirling around to the end of the hall.

“You’re supposed to be in the gymnasium!” Old man Mr. Min is bumbling towards you with a cane, his voice surprisingly still full of power even when he looks like a sack of bones.

“Sorry!” You duck your head and before he can catch you, your hand entwines with Hoseok’s. The two of you dash down the hall as if you were still trouble-making high-schoolers.

Hoseok mutters in complete shock, “He’s still alive?!”

And you laugh, squeezing his hand just a bit tighter.

You return to the reunion and your heart is a bit lighter knowing this time, you don’t have to lie.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenario #hoseok fluff #hoseok reader insert #hoseok x reader #Jimlings #Anonymous

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i-am-infinite · 3 years

Text

Guilt (Part 1): The Rescue

(Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!Fem!Reader)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Slight Chpt 12 and 13 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

Description: Moff Gideon has found someone else to run his experiments on and word gets back to Din. Will he take his son far away and try and find somewhere safe? Or will the guilt of an innocent being put in his son’s place eat away at him? (No Y/N or ___ used)

Word Count: Slightly over 4K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and needles. Broken glass. Fainting. Blood loss. Canon type violence. Possible bad writing (first fic pls go easy on me). If I’m missing anything please let me know, I’ve never done one of these before.

A/N: This is my first fanfic I’ve written so it might be really bad but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head so here it is. I also made up a planet/system and don’t know if star wars has alarm clocks but i wrote it in anyway. I also wrote this in Word first and then realized I couldn’t copy it over so I tried my best to type it over in here.

Normal. That is what was used to describe your life. Nothing out of the ordinary. Life wasn’t boring per se, but it definitely wasn’t compelling enough for your tastes. Studying to be a healer help keep it somewhat interesting but not enough.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Crust littered eyes creak open as your face unsticks from the textbook scattered across the desk. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Your stiff neck cracks as you finally sit up. Fell asleep studying again. You loved learning about healing, you really did. But the long nights and barely sleeping was enough to make your head explode. Looking over at the clock with bright red numbers blinking at you. 8:15.

8:15! I’m late! You think as you force yourself awake. No not again! Being a student means you need to do hands on hours down at the nearest medcenter. All the late night studying also means that you oversleep most days. Grabbing your work bag filled with a change of clothes, in preparation of these events, you run out the door.

Your feet hit the wet cobble stones as it echos through your little part of the city. Vendors lining up the street ready to start their days. Passing the shop you went to yesterday, your mind too preoccupied to notice that it’s empty today. You know that theres is a faster route to the medcenter, but is it a path you really want to take today? Dark and windy path that you can barely see five feet in front of you on mornings like this. Too foggy and muggy for your liking. You’d rather stick to the main road where there’s people, where if anything were to happen, people would see, they would know. Regardless, it shaves fifteen minutes off your commute. You loathe having to be late for another shift. Making the sharp turn in between tow booths, you pace quickens to get through as quickly as you can. While not having much visibility, you swear you can see a pair of eyes in the dark. Has to just be my imagination, you convince yourself, I just need to keep going. It’ll be fine.

Footsteps echo behind you. Hands grab your shoulders. A scream rises in your throat, but no sound comes out. Everything goes dark when you feel something hit the side of your head.

Sigh. “Grogu get back in your seat.” The little baby waddles down off the controls and into his father’s lap. “Not what I meant,” Din grumbles with a smile hidden under his helmet. He grabs Grogu by his little robe and places him in the seat to his right and tells him to buckle up as a holo comes through from Greef Karga.

“Mando, we’ve just got word that Moff Gideon might have been seen in the Braic system. It looks like they found a substitute for the baby for the time being. I would use this time to go find a hide-out and lay low. He could still come back for the little one. Be well,”

Din goes to start the ship and find coordinates to stay out of trouble for a while when he hears the baby whine. Looking back at his adoptive child, all Din can see is Grogu, then a nameless kid, lying unconscious on a metal table, trapped underneath a contraption. Din starts breathing heavy and feeling sick that he ever gave his son up to those Imps. All he can hear is the beeping of the machine he’s hooked up to. Anger boiling back to the surface as he hears himself yell at the doctor all over again in his memories. No, he tells himself, He’s here with me. He’s fine. He’s safe. He shakes himself out of it and goes to fly the Razor Crest off planet.

Before he even gets off the planet, all Din can think about is that innocent person in his son’s place. They were going to kill Grogu, just for his blood for their experiments. Din can’t bring the kid anywhere near those people, he can’t risk losing his family, not when both of them have formed such attachments to each other. But he can’t stop thinking of this person who is in the that position now. He should’ve made sure Gideon was dead. Because of that now more people are going to get hurt.

Without thinking he turns on his holo already asking, “Where is he taking them?”

Feeling groggy with heavy eyes, you are able to open them just a bit to a blinding light. Reluctantly closing them again, you lift your arm to rub your eyes, but only they don’t move. What? The rest of your senses start coming back and you can feel the cool metal against your back, the same metal wrapped around your wrists and your ankles attached to the table. Finally bracing the light and opening your eyes, lifting your head slightly off the table and oh no the room is spinning now. There is an IV in your arm drawing your blood out into some odd machine, explaining the dizziness. Second time in two days you’ve had to deal with your own blood.

Walking through the shops on your one day off, you pick up a flower hair pin. The glasswork is so intricate and entrancing, you can’t help but turn it over and over in your hands. A pearl bead sitting in the center of iridescent gray and white petals. Placing it back in its place, your had scrapes against another glass design that is not yet finished, slashing open your palm. “Oh, dear let me help you with that,” the lady running the stand says. She looks you with her white hair barely covering her forehead. Tattoos liter her arms. A design peaks your interest as you swear you know but can’t quite place.

“It’s fine, I can take care of it myself,” you state already inspecting your hand. No shards in it so thats good.

“Oh no I insist. It happened at my booth, let me help clean it,” she declares taking your hand in her own. It feels like she squeezes the wound causing you to wince in pain slightly. Knowing she should just be cleaning it and wrapping it, you’re a little confused. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to tend to these sort of things, not wanted to embarrass her at her stand, you keep quiet. She finally gets a clean rag to help blot away at the blood on your hand. You didn’t think anything of it at the time, but it appears she has put it in a bag to the side.

“I don’t have any gauze to help wrap it up,” the stand lady says.

“Oh, don’t worry, I have plenty of my own,” you mention, “It will be fine until I make it back to my place.” Smiling you walk away. Without looking, you can feel her move the piece you cut your hand on into the bag. Must just be because it’s a dangerous piece, you think, not knowing there’s still some of your blood on it too.

Closing your eyes again, you try to wonder why that is so significant to you right now. It was a harmless thing in passing, so why is it at the forefront of your mind? You are strapped to a table and all you can think about is that little cut you got the day prior. If your head didn’t feel like it was a spinner top right now, you would have laughed. Opening your eyes again you see men all in white armor and helmets guarding the door to your room, while a man in a white coat is working on the machine where your IV is attached. I thought the empire was dead. The same symbol that keeps going through your mind is the same one sewn into the man’s white coat. Your breathing gets shallower as you feel the panic rise in your chest. I’m never getting out of here, you realize as your vision becomes black once again.

You’re losing a lot of blood. You know that. You can feel it when noise wakes you up and your eyelids feel like lead. All the noise is muffled, as if you’re underwater. Frankly it feels like you are. It would be so easy to let the waves of darkness just wash over you right now, to let the water take you under. No, you can’t give up the fight and drown into unconsciousness just yet. You force yourself to stay awake.

Barely getting your eyes open, bright red lights flood your vision. You imagine you’re still in bed, or at least asleep at your desk, with the alarm clock blaring, not here with blaster fire. Wait, blaster fire? You attempt to turn your head to the side to look, or to dodge, you aren’t to sure in your current state. The fast action causes you to feel like you’re spinning, or it might be the room, either way your eyes can’t focus on what is going on. Closing your eyes again to make it stop, you hear voices surrounding you. They sound so far away at the moment but finally, after what feels like ages, one voice sounds clearer.

“Please help us. Help us get out of here. Her m-counts aren’t nearly as high as the child’s. They’re demanding more blood. She’s already lost 2 liters, I don’t know how much longer she can last.”

Child? They wanted to do this to a child? You’d choke down a sob if you could just thinking of that poor baby. What did he even say about what-counts? What the hell are those? All these questions are making your head spin more and more. Taking most of your energy to open your eyes, you’re met with a chrome stormtrooper trying to unbind you. Wait no, not a stormtrooper. You’ve heard stories about him and his people. What were they called? For the life of you, you can’t remember right now.

“You’re going to need help getting her out of here,” you realize that the man in the whit coat was the one who spoke before and is now pleading with the metal man, “Please Mandalorian take me with you and I’ll help you get her out of here.”

That’s it. He’s a Mandalorian. He gets your wrists free as the doctor takes the IV out. Pushing off the table to sit up, the world starts spinning again. You don’t even realize you’re about to hit the table again until the Mandalorian grabs your shoulders to keep you semi-upright. You hear some sort of static come from his helmet. “Fine.” he grumbles, “help me get her out of this thing.”

With a flip of a switch, the rest of your body is free from restraints. Eager to get out of there, you swing your legs over the edge of the table, hands finding the arms of the Mandalorian with his hands still on your shoulders. Nauseous and woozy, you try to use the cold metal of his pauldron to ground yourself, to get the room to stop spinning. He can see you start to sway and wraps his arms around your waist as he lowers you from the table. Your feet hit the floor and black dots start to cloud your vision. Blood pounding in your ears trying to tell you to stop and lie back down. Muffled voices come from beside you again as you feel another arm wrap around you from the other side. Your feet dragging against the floor as both men on either side of you go towards the door.

You feel the heavily armored man to your left let go. Eyes that are still fuzzy and unfocused sort of see him peak out the door with his blaster drawn. He leaves the room and all that can be heard is the pew pew pew of blaster fire. Vision start to come back the tiniest bit, you can see him standing in the door way waving his hand as to say Come on.��

The three of you hurry as fast as you can down the corridor to get to an exit. Lots of twists and turns, just for you all to come up at a dead end. So much for rescuing, you think to yourself as the doctor still holding you up, leans you up against a pillar as the two of them survey the situation. More of the Mandalorian assessing the situation and the doctor just frantically pacing back and forth.

Sitting down now that the adrenaline of being kidnapped and “rescued” die down, you feel your breathing getting shallower and harder to breath. Eyelids getting heavy again. You just want to lay down and go to sleep, hoping that will fix things. Starting your descent from your upright position to close your eyes, two hands grab your shoulders and jerk you up. It takes a second to realize this modulated voice was talking you you. “Hey, you got to stay with me now,” he pleads, one hand going to the side of your face. Pain spreads across your features due to being struck there earlier, a bruise starting to form in its place. Pulling his hand away like seeing the your face contorted burned him, he continues, “I’m going to get you out of here, you just have to stay awake.” You open your mouth to speak, but your throat feels like it’s filled with sand from Tattooine, so you just weakly nod your head yes. “Okay good,” the shiny man says after letting out a deep breath.

Still holding your shoulders, he helps you stand up and tells the doctor to take you and go further down the hall. Taking something small and circular out of his belt and placing it on the far wall, he speed walks back toward you two. It starts blinking red as his arms come and cage both of you in. Peeking over his shoulder, you see the wall disappear. Well explode, but one second ago it was there and now it’s not. When the explosion first rings in your ears, you reflexively reach out for the Mandalorian’s arm and feel him tense under your touch.

When he deems it safe to move again, letting go of his arm, he hops over the rubble to the outside world, blaster drawn. Looking out you think it looks like a desert, but one you’ve never seen before. You have no idea where you are, even what planet you are on. You eyes go to where the chrome man is stalking towards. It seems he found two speeder bikes that the troopers use, sans the troopers. Your feet hit the gravel and you realize you aren’t wearing shoes anymore. How long was I out? You begin to question when you see a stormtrooper take aim at your rescuer. Right when he pulls the trigger, you reach your hand out and scream, “NO!”

You could’ve sworn it was going to hit him. It should’ve hit him. But at the last second it bent and went in another direction. You knew stormtroopers were bad shots, but nothing like that has ever happened. The Mandalorian whips around at your scream and shoots the trooper down. He goes back to what he originally planned to do, but not without turning to you. You see his chest plate heave up and down a few times before turning back around. After a beat, the only sound you can hear is the Mandalorian starting up the speeders and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The doctor helps guide you to the bikes and as you’re about to get on behind him, the Mandalorian picks you up bridal style and sits on his own respective bike. You make a noise of discontent at the sudden action and are then seated in front of him, yet again caged in by his arms with your legs draped over one of his. You can hear him breathing through the modulator as he states, “Just in case you pass out again. Can’t have you falling off the back of the bike.” You go to adjust how you are sitting when he takes off.

Gasping in shock, you hug your arms around his neck with you head in his cowl as you take panicked breaths. His hand touches your back as you hear him shout over the noise of the engines, “Put your legs around me, you’re slipping off.” He holds your waist as you sling your right leg around and hook it with your left one behind his back. Not the position you thought you’d end up in as a blush creeps up on your face, but neither the less here you are. His hand lets go of your waist and back to the handlebars as he steers.

Suddenly getting the feeling like you’re being followed, you say into his neck cowl, “Go left!” You don’t know why, but you just get a gut feeling to go that way. He follows your lead, not without a brief hesitation. The doctor follows on his speeder in the same direction. Finally looking up you see two stormtroopers in the distance. I wish their speeders would just stop or something, you plead with yourself and you think back to what happened with the blaster. Testing the waters, you unhook one of your hands from Mando’s neck and hold it out and... nothing. Okay focus, you close your eyes and picture their speeders stopping, or malfunctioning, or anything at this point.

The sound of a crash comes ringing into your ears. Opening your eyes, you can see the troopers flip over their handlebars as if their engines just died. You slightly chuckle to yourself as your eyelids feel heavy again. You try to get them to stay open, but sleep just feels so much better at the moment. And with that, you’re out like a light.

Din feels you go limp against him. His arm once again going to grab you by your waist to keep you in place. He wills his speeder to go faster, to get back to the Razor Crest sooner as he’s panicking thinking he somehow made the situation worse. He exposed you on the bike by having you sit like this. Your arms, legs, and head were all exposed to possible blaster fire. Have you been hit? He heard a crash but couldn’t look back without moving you more, risking leaving you more unprotected. His blame for himself spirals as his grip on you grows tighter. He can’t explain why he’s so distraught over a stranger, but still every time he blinks, he swears he sees back on that table. The next time he swears he sees his son on that very table again. First he gave the kid up to those people, now he didn’t finish Gideon off and let you, an innocent stranger who he is now clutching onto for dear life, get in the crossfire. Too many people have gotten hurt because of this. Because of him. He needs to make it right.

Finally Din and Dr. Pershing arrive at the Razor Crest where Din is already lowering the hatch and carrying you in. Kicking some crates together, he gently lowers you down onto this makeshift bed. He uses his thermal setting to see your body temperature, to see how you are recovering from the blood loss. He isn’t thrilled to see it still low, you were getting your energy back slowly before, along with more body heat, bit not enough to Din’s liking. Turning his helmet to Pershing, the doctor says, “She’s going to need more blood.” Din, already standing ready to run out and get some, not even knowing where or how to do that, is stopped by Pershing telling him that he’ll go get it, that it would look less suspicious. Agreeing, Din sits by your side while using his comm-link to tell Greef that he could bring Grogu back to the ship. How Din always finds someone to babysit still surprises him.

You wake up with a start. Eyes not yet adjusted to the lights overhead. Looking down you can see an IV in your arm again. Now towards the side, you can see the same doctor from before asleep up against a wall. Please tell me it wasn’t a dream, tears well up in your eyes as you think you’ve made the whole thing up to cope. It wasn’t until you felt your hand come to wipe away your watery eyes that you realized it just might not be a dream. The IV isn’t taking blood this time, it’s giving it.

Finally looking around, you realize you’re on a ship that feels like it’s moving. Confused by this, you try and sit up. Not nearly as dizzy as before, you slowly swing your legs off the wooden crates you’re lying on. Noticing your still barefoot as a chill gets sent up to your spine by the cold metal floor, you grab your IV bag off what appears to be just a hook poorly attached to the ceiling. You venture around the small area of the ship, noticing there isn’t a lot besides these boxes and what appears to be two storage type of units. You don’t even tempt to look in, too intrusive. You do however see a ladder going higher up on the ship. Taking the IV out and ripping a piece of your shirt off to wrap around your arm for pressure, so you can use both hands to climb, you start your ascent up.

Once you finally reach the top, you hear cooing? Didn’t that doctor say something about a child earlier? Looking forward into the cockpit, you see your savior flying while looking to his right at one of the co-pilot chairs. Clearing your throat to get his attention, two little eyes peer at you from the seat. A bright smile appears on this little green things face and you can’t help but stifle a laugh because its ears are the size of his body.

Distracted by this cute baby, you don’t notice the way the Mandalorian swivels his chair to face you. Finally looking at the man who saved you today, your breath hitches. You don’t know how to thank him for what he did, so you sort of just stand and stare for a second. He stands up and lightly grabs your arm with your homemade bandage on it. Tilting his helmet to the side you hear static coming from it. Did he just sigh at you? “You were supposed to keep it in your arm,” he finally states, with a tinge of annoyance.

Eyes not wanting to meet the T of his visor, you direct your gaze to the ground. “ I jus- I-,” you stammer, not able to find the right words. “Thank you.” It comes out more hushed than you’d like, but he still hears you. He just gives you a slight nod before releasing his arm and heading back to his seat. All your muscles turn to stone as you stand there not knowing if you should leave or not, until he cocks his head towards the seat to his left. On shaky legs you find your way to the seat. Before even sitting down fully, the little green child is already trying to get into your lap. Giggling to yourself you let him up onto your lap.

Once you do the strangest thing happens. You can feel what he’s thinking, his emotions, his past. How he was trained with the special abilities, much like the ones you just displayed before. How he was scared and in hiding until the man sitting in front of you found him. How he thinks of him as a father, his dad. Your chest tightens at that one. Still confused as to why the same people who wanted this child, Grogu, for his powers, also wanted you, you pull him to your chest to comfort you both. You finally speak up again and ask, “Did they want me because I might have the same abilities as this one?” You meant it to sound strong, but it just came out sounding weak.

Without looking at you, the Mandalorian replies shortly after a pause, “Yes.” You swore you can see his grip tighten on the ships steering as he says that. Turning to the two of you finally, he says in the sincerest voice you’ve heard out of him, “They wont get to either of you again. I can promise you that.” Your chest swells at this statement and Grogu looks up at you with a smile as if he felt the way your heart fluttered. You wish you were the one wearing the helmet right now because you can feel your cheeks heat up. To ease the situation in the best way you can, awkwardly, you clear your throat before asking, “So where are we headed now?”

Swiveling back in his chair to hit a few buttons, you’re confused not knowing what they are supposed to do until he pulls up a map and points a place out. He tells you that he’s going to drop off Dr. Pershing at one of the squiggles you see and then try and figure it out from there. “So, I guess thats where I get off too?” You meant it to come out more as a statement than a question, but after what you just went through, you’d rather not be left to fend for youself.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally utters after a while. “ But they’re not going to stop coming after you. Either of you. It might be safer for you to stay here with me, us.” The last part comes out so quiet, it’s almost as if he didn’t want you to hear, out of fear of your response.

Trying to not answer too quickly, you take a deep breath and finally say, “Yes. I’d like that a lot.” With a curt nod, he turns back around. Warmth fills your chest yet again at this stranger’s kindness. It’s just because I have the same abilities as his child, you try to convince yourself. But deep down you’re hoping it’s more than that. The child in your lap grips your fingers tightly and coos, as if he’s trying to tell you your hopes might not be too far off.

Oh, it’s going to be an interesting adventure with these two, you smile to yourself.

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peakywitch · 3 years

Text

Too much, too less - Michael Gray

A/N: eeeh angsty of course lmao sorry... THIS GIF 🤰🤰🤰

Words: 1k maybe idk i didn't count

masterlist

Christmas was one of Y/N favourite times of the year. Her family always celebrated it with joy, love and a lot of laughter. The whole year they worked day and night, just to be able to spend cozy and warm festivities.

It was, of course, all she could remember. Then, war wiped her dad away from his family fingers, and her mom disappeared into the horizon inside a gipsy caravan with a Lee after the letter from his death came in, as a desperate way of escaping grief. And so, the only Christmas she would never forget was Christmas 1918. It was a cold, grey and lonely Christmas.

When the town heard from her misery, they all handed out their hand to help the lost girl.

They tried to find a job that would suit an eighteen year old, and she found her place by Polly Gray’s side. With her nephew’s in France, she needed an extra helping hand in the betting den. And you could tell her skill was treating customers, you could see it in the way she smiled, she acted and she laughed at the silly jokes men did. She helped them by sometimes giving hints on which horse would win, and that’s how she won everyone’s heart.

When the boys came back, they took a quick liking at her. The Shelby brothers found her warm teas almost bewitching, they tasted like a little bit of peace. Christmas 1919 wasn't so horrible, after all, she found herself in a new family, with good older brothers and a motherly figure who would always be there for her, no matter what.

And in 1921 he appeared: Michael fucking Gray. A man with such a superiority complex yet to show, but someone could sense it in the way he began to make his way into the company.

And so he did, he got a job as accountant in the company, leading Y/N to a horrible destiny: being his assistant.

She felt the need to stay quiet, she could not end up in the streets. So, Y/N would always help Michael when he demanded her help. And now, he felt like he owned her. Y/N do this, do that, take note, erase, write, speak, eat, stop speaking. And being bossed around by someone who is your own age and more stupid than you, it’s a pain in the ass.

“Don’t you think you are a little too loud?” he asked once, coming out from his office to find her laughing with Johnny Doggs.

Maybe she was too loud.

“Sorry, Michael, it’s my fault…” said Johnny, trying to stop his laughter.

“It’s ok Johnny, but she needs to stop being so loud.”

It felt like cold water splashing over her.

Then, one happy night in the Garrison, he did another remark.

"Do you really think that joke was funny? You're trying way too hard."

Men who wanted to hear her jokes and laugh, could now only see her smile. And it happened too when she went out with Isaiah, Finn and now Michael. She was always laughing, drinking beer and making jokes. But her jokes became small smiles, and hours of fun abd endless beers became twenty minutes of being uncomfortably seating by his side.

But it was Christmas 1925, when the family found out how she had been feeling the past year since she started being Michael’s assistant.

It was the 24th of December, and the whole family was gathered in the master dining room, while the house employees were serving the food. She was sitting between Lizzie and Esme, drinking champagne and laughing at stories they told.

She couldn't keep her laugh inside, and she kept on laughing with every word the women spoke. Everyone loved to hear her laugh, she always made everyone happy.

And when she calmed down, after a few seconds she heard Michael whispering to Isaiah underneath his breath:

“Don’t you think she is too loud?” he asked, with a chuckle, but Is kept a straight face, Y/N was staring at both of them.

When Michael moved away from Isaiah, he had a weird smile, as if he had won something. They both connected their eyes, she would be throwing champagne in his face in any minute.

And then she felt it, the courage building inside her, and erupting from her body.

“Stop it.” she demanded, with a straight face. Her stomach tangled.

“Stop what?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, playing dumb

“Stop telling me I’m too much. Too chatty, too happy, too excited."

"And don't forget about too nosy and too loud."

She laughes in disbelief. Michael was always a dick, he thought of himself as king of the world.

"I am a woman, and maybe I am too much of a woman. Maybe I'm just too much of a fucking woman for you, and you only know how to cry about how much of a man you wish you could be." She screamed as her hands tried to stay away from the knife.

That!" He laughed, and drunk some wine "That's exactly why you keep on scaring man away. You think I didn't know you liked me? You think you are cute and pretty when you laugh? You are impossible to stand, didn't you know?"

"Michael, that's enough." Demanded Polly.

"Twenty-something and no lover, uh? Poor little girl. Must be horrible to cry yourself to sleep asking God why no man wanta you! Well there you fuckin' go! Now you know!"

She looked around, trying to run into Arthur's arms like she always did. But he was worried with his own kid now. While Ada and Polly were exchanging silent plans on what to do, Esme had her hand on John's shoulder, telling him to sit.

She was alone.

“Stop focusing on me and my happiness, and start focusing on the lack of joy and laughter your life has, Michael. My dad died and my mom left me to mourn alone, so I’m sorry if I’m enjoying life once and for all, i’m sorry your life is so dark, that you have to focus on someone else’s happiness to have something to say.”

“Y/N, I think you are being…” he began, with a defying gaze.

“Too loud? Too angry? I damn am. You will be too much of an idiot not to realize I am two times the man you are. And damn you fool, you would be a lucky guy to date a woman like me, who tries to keep a smile on her face every fuckin’ day!”

“Calm down, you don’t need to yell.” he stated, with a smile that make him look like a snake. That same smile he had every time he talked about a girl he spent the night with.

“You never had the need to be a bastard with me for the past year, yet you were. And every day i tried to bond with you, you would just brush me off with nasty comments about my smile, my clothes, my hair, my laugh. I was happy, and you took it away. So congrats Michael, now I am everything you always wanted: too quiet, too grey, too sad and too fucking boring, just like you are.”

"You're simply pathetic. As lost as a kid, I don't even know how you got this position. You can't-"

"Now I know why Charlotte wanted to abort your kid. You don't even have what it takes to be a kid yourself."

Polly stared in disbelief.

Michael was...?

Michael did.... what?

Esme and Ada stared at Finn, who was trying to hide a smile.

She cleaned her mouth with the white napkin, and excused herself.

"If by monday Michael doesn't quit, I will. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Tom. The food was amazing."

She walked out of the dining room, her heels accompanied her, letting everyone know she was heading upstairs to end her night.

"You went too far, Michael." Said Lizzie, still in shock at the news Y/N had just revealed "She didn't deserve it. And you fucking know it."

The table was one big argument. Everyone in her favor, trying to get Michael into his senses.

"Michael…" Tommy stated, and the table started to calm down "Michael, you heard her."

"Are you mental? Do you want my son to quit?" Polly fought.

"He's a adult, Pol. He has a good twenty years, ain't that right? If he doesn't want to be fired, he will sort it out. Like we all do in life."

Tommy stood with her, she knew it. And to say she was oblivious to it would be a lie. She knew. But she had supported to much.

@deepdonutkid @a-golden-sunflower-vol-6 @stydia-4-ever @natural-hearts @lovemissyhoneybee @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @peakyrogers @writeroutoftime @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @pinkeijin @lukeymybabe @eternallyvenus @anchy-bananchy @peakyswritings

#michael gray #peaky blinder fanfic #arthur shelby #thomas shelby #finn shelby #peaky fucking blinders #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #arthur shelby imagine #finn shelby imagine

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harveywritings92 · 3 years

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Oni! Dabi x reader 1

Summary the is vaguely based on the Yomawari games: Your best friend Touya disappeared during the last Summer festival you both had together, you swore up and down that whoever took him away wasn't human! but everyone dismissed this as you being traumatized, a few weeks later your family moves away, ten years later you've come back, determined to find out who or what took Touya...

____________________________________

It was late at night as lone car drove down a mountain road, A young woman by the name Y/n was in deep thought as her eyes were focused on the road but her mind was settled elsewhere as she approached the old look out spot she and Touya used occupy; Memories of how they'd watch the the town, building snow forts in the winter, and every summer they come and watch the fireworks...

A frown formed on her lips as she pulled over on to the shoulder of the road and got out of her car locking it and turned to look at the old overgrown trail, that was now blocked off by a rusted chink-link fence, a lot of good it did considering there was a hole just big enough for the [y/ht] woman to duck under, Y/n clutched her jacket to as chill went down her spine as she eyed the darkened path before.

"Dang, I forgot how creepy this place looked at night." The [y/hc] mumbled nervously as she took out her flashlight and turned it on, She took one last look at her car before making the trek up the trail, the walk was quiet and... very tense, Y/n was on edge this forest was eerily quiet, there was no wind... no crickets, Just the sound of leaves and twigs cracking under her feet. Just then hairs on the back of Y/n's neck stood up.

She thought she heard something behind her, the [y/hc] whirled around to look only to find nothing, at least Y/n hoped it was nothing the [y/ht] woman pointed the light in different directions; trying to pinpoint where she heard the noise, But the range of a flashlight can only reach so far... as the path behind her was pitch black, then she felt something breathing down her neck, she yelped and spun around intending to hit whoever it was with the only thing she had: The flashlight.

Fortunately Y/n no one was there, unfortunately since there was nothing there to hit.... It was bye-bye flying flashlight and hello ground! The [y/ht] woman yelped as she went down, she hissed feeling her right knee get scrapped by the small bits of gravel, before cussing and pulling herself back up and looked around the pitch black trail for any sign of her flashlight before her [y/ec] eyes zeroed in on a faint glow a few feet ahead and started making her way over to it, being careful of anything in her way.

Y/n made it to that spot she sighed in relief seeing her purple flashlight laying by a old rotting picnic-table, she grabbed it and as she was bending down she heard this weird gurgling sound as she was standing back up she could see something walking towards her, when she shined the light on it.

Her stomach felt heavy like it was full of sand, Y/n didn't know describe this...abomination! Sure she's seen spirits since she was a kid (though she always pretended she didn't) but she's never seen one like this before, it.. almost looked like a spider with a giant human eye ball for a opisthosoma and eight rotting human arms for legs, the giant eye looked around wildly as it didn't seem to noticed the petrified woman who took a nervous step back *Snap* Y/n gasped looked down and saw she stepped on a twig then looked back up at the spider; The giant eye was now looking at her...

Y/n swallowed hard and started backing away again, before turning heel and running back down the trail with this Thing hot on her heels! when she made it down the base of the hill, the [y/ht] woman couldn't remember where the hole in the fence was, she looked around frantically before turning off her flashlight and hiding in the bushes, She could hear the spider's gurgling coming closer as it was looking for her, suddenly the crawling and gurgling Y/n was hearing was replaced by this pained shrieking! The [y/hc] woman covered her ears as the screams got more loud before dying down...

Y/n was shaking as she cautiously looked out from bushes to see what happened and was met by a odd sight, there was man standing in the clearing standing over the now dead spider spirit, the [y/hc] woman was about to come out of hiding when suddenly the spider's body burst into blue flames, that's when Y/n realized that this was no human man... It was an Oni a very powerful yokai…

He had spiky raven colored hair, but his general appearance looked like a ragdoll, parts of his skin was badly scarred almost purple; and being held together by black staples, the parts that weren't scarred the flesh appeared dark gray, the sclera of his eyes were pitch black highlighting their cerulean blue iris, but what really caught Y/n were the two blue horns protruding from his head they glowed like the blue flames consuming the spider spirit, she watched as the raven haired monster punch his hand into the still burning corpse and to her horror pulled out it's heart.

Y/n felt bile rise in her throat as the Oni brought the heart to his mouth about to take a bite a disgusted whimper escaped the terrified woman's mouth, causing the Oni pause before he could enjoy his meal, his eyes narrowed as he glared at the bushes Y/n was hiding in, she heard him start walking towards her hiding spot, when the sound of distant of a distorted howling came from somewhere nearby, she heard the Oni growl before he ran off in the howling's direction, probably to eat whatever poor soul made that noise, ether way Y/n wasn't waiting to find out she jumped out of the bushes and found her way back to her car.

Y/n's never been so happy to see a powder blue stanza before in her life! she collapsed to her knees crying and shaking she threw up then sat against her diver-side door for a few moments to collect herself before weakly standing up and getting into her car and drove off back to her house vowing to return in the daytime.

As Y/n fled she failed to notice that she lost something a bracelet, a gift from Touya from when they were kids, it wasn't special looking just black twine and a large bead made piece of blue beach glass, which unbeknownst to her the Oni had picked up after he returned to see investigate who saw him and dispose of them, cerulean eyes zeroed in on the abandoned trinket he picked it up off the ground and held it up to examine it, that when a scent caught the Oni's nose it's was a woman’s scent, it was then he recognized the bracelet in his hand and felt nostalgic he knew this scent! he was so elated that he started to salivate...It was Y/n's scent! his bride had returned.

#boku no hero academia #boku no hero fic #league of villains #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #Touya todoroki x reader #Dabi #Oni! Dabi #no quirks #yokai au #psychic reader

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blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 3 years

Text

Title: Just Gotta Stay Calm

Word Count: 3966

Fandom: Gravedale High

Ship/Pairing: Vinnie Stoker/Reggie Moonshroud

Tags: First Dates, Vampire Family, Tradition, Awkward Crush, Vampire Boyfriend, Werewolf Boyfriend, First Kiss, Dorks in Love, Awkward Dates, Boys in Love, Friendship/Love

Warnings: First Works of the fandom, swearing(small), awkward, fluff

Vinnie let in a breath as he examines himself in the special vampire mirror on his bedroom wall. He quietly checks every inch of his face closely before opening his mouth to check his fangs.

Good, He thought with a charming grin to himself. No pimples, no stuff in my teeth, no flaws in sight. Vinnie went to his dresser and takes out some cologne he bought specifically for today, a scent of calming forest rain, and sprayed some on his neck and a little bit in his shirt. Not a lot just the basic stuff to seem simple and posh.

Vinnie and Reggie are finally getting themselves a date. A real, really real, true date. Just the two of them. And Vinnie could be more happier then this moment!

Vinnie has been meaning to ask his best friend out for quite some time, since the first moment he noticed his feelings were a bit more then platonic bashful moths in his chest and stomach actually. It took him a total of two full months to completely wrap his head around the fact that he - Vincent "Vinnie" Stoker - was wings over heels in love with the world's one and only Reggie Moonshroud. However, it took him nearly a YEAR to get up all the courage to ask the boy out. Honestly, if it weren't for his friends this day might've never happened.

The young vampire left his bedroom and hurries down his stairs, only to be stopped by the voice of his old man, "Vincent, can you come here please?" Vinnie let out a silent shutter as he mentally cursed himself.

He slowly turned his body fully towards the older vampire sitting in his velvet chair with a pipe in between his lips, small puffs of the smoke emerging out the ends. The teen slowly walked over. "Y-Yea pops?" His voice rarely stammers when speaking, hasn't since he was in the 6th grade, at least not when he nervous beyond his wits like when he tried to get the chance to ask Reggie out and plan out what to do on said date.

"Are you going to go on your date soon?" Asked Mr. Stoker. Vinnie nods some in reply, his hands fumbling into his jacket's pockets. This was not what he wanted to do. The older vampire stood up from his chair, pipe still puffing out smoke, his eyes focus out the window of the chilly autumn gray skies. He takes a puff before continuing, "I want to give you some simple advice for your first date Vincent. Vampire to vampire." Vinnie practically shrunk his head down into his coat's collar.

Defiantly not what he wanted to do. . .

"That's okay pops, I got it covered-" He began as he slowly creeped his way to the front door. "The year was 1880. . ." Vinnie bite back a groan, knowing very well that once his dad starts it's hard to stop him. "I was simply a beginning apprentice to the one and only Dracula. Mostly paper work and long mornings. I thought I had everything cut out for me, a great job and nice home, until I realized I was missing something important when I first saw your mother wandering through the local cemetery." Mr. Stoker smiles fondly as he light strokes his black beard. "She is my first and only love as I'm sure you know. And it took me decades to ask her on a single date, I feared she might not want a simple vampire apprentice who barely knows how to turn into a bat, but alas she surprise me with a yes." Vinnie nods, "Yeah yeah I know. And you two spent many years together, got married, had two kids, and lived happily ever after. Dad, I know the story pretty well you know."

He didn't mean to interrupt his father's tale, he just already has his nerves up through the roof and he just want to hurry for the plans. His father turned and looked at his son right in the eyes as he spoke, "I know you do. I'm just trying to tell you that last night I was certain to give you some advice for your date, a vampire tradition my father gave me as his father gave him and his father so forth. I know you're nervous and it's perfectly natural. Just remember, be courteous. Be engaging. And above all, have a plan." Vinnie nodded. "Don't worry pops, I got it covered. Now can I go and do the date itself?" He asked the older vampire, who nodded to his please. He didn't wait any few seconds to open the front door and flying off with a snap.

This will go well, He thought to himself as he feels the wind go through his black hair. Reggie will enjoy the date I have planned for us. This is a piece of blood orange pie. Vinnie smiled as he spaces out on today's plans. Slowly, though, his brain began to swim to a memory of when he got the nerves to finally make that choice he's been walking back and forth on. . .

~ ~ ~

Vinnie taps the heels of his shoe onto the cold hard floor of the school's classroom as he watches the clock tic away, his eyes going to the clock and to the werewolf just a desk away from him. Today was the day, Vinnie told himself throughout the hours. Today I'm going to do it. As if proving his luck, the bell rings out around the school, signalling everyone to grab their stuff and hurry the Hell out of there for the weekend. Vinnie stood onto his feet, catching Gil and Sid giving him a thumbs up as they run out the classroom, and looks over at Reggie who is still putting his stuff away.

The vampire took a breath in and walked his way over to the red head's desk, his feet feeling kind of heavy as he gets closer. Be cool Vinnie, just do it. "Hey Reg." His voice called out suddenly, the rest of his body slowly just going with the flow. Reggie turned his head and smiled up at his friend. "Hey there Vinnie. You usually are gone by now, is Mr. Schneider Sir seeing you after class again?" He asked as he puts his books away in his bag. Vinnie smiles warmly, he enjoys Reggie's voice. The way his small lisp happens between the small gap of the front of his teeth. The way his voice cracks sometimes in the right moments. Just generally how comforting it is...

The vampire quickly shook his head when he finally notices Reggie is standing up and looking at him with cocoa brown eyes that warm up Vinnie's dead chest, "No no. I just wanted to know...if...um...i-if you don't mind me asking...I uh..." "Yes Vinnie?" Reggie pressed on. Honestly, it's like he knows what he's doing to me. Vinnie took a gulp from his dry mouth before he spoke a retry, "I just wanted to know...if...if...well...if you're free this weekend? Maybe...we could...go out?" He didn't know if he sounded needy or not but he didn't care, he finally said it!

Reggie blinked a few times before replying, "Of course we can hang out Vin. We often times do already." "No, Reggie, I meant...go out...like a...date...?" Vinnie was so scared to look at Reggie in the face yet he has to in order to watch his reaction. And boy was it a reaction... His cute wolf ears were perked down in a way his shyness shows, hard to tell but behind that fur his cheeks were very rosey and red, just looking at him gave Vinnie so much heat on his face he for sure thought he was going to die.

~ ~ ~

Vinnie chuckled softly when Reggie's face on that day came to mind.

Well, yeah, the reply was a day late but nevertheless he said yes. And the day has finally came.

Vinnie soon landed at Reggie's place, a pretty big home of four stories with a even bigger yard surrounded it of 6 aches each side. He knew Reggie's family owned a big home for such a big family but he honestly wasn't expecting something so... human dream life. A white picket fence wrapping around the areas of land, green grass in perfect height, the house painted in a nice paint of soft blue with the windows having a white coat to the edges, a cute porch sticking out from the big dark brown oak made front door, and to fit so perfectly a nice little porch swing with a small coffee table. In all honesty neither Vinnie nor Reggie been to each others' houses despite being friends for years. Always staying at the dorms the school gave them for half the week.

The vampire slowly made his way to the porch and gently pulled the rope that rings the door bell loudly it echos around him and to the forest not far from the house itself. He tripled checked in his head the plans of the date as he waits a few seconds before the door opened and Reggie's head popped into view. "Hey Vinnie." Reggie said with a smile and opened the door already for him to step out. "Hey there Reg-" Vinnie nearly chocked on his words upon seeing Reggie. He wasn't wearing anything out of his comfort zone but something Vinnie was expecting obviously... Let alone something his heart was ready for. There standing in front of him with the shine of the afternoon sun glimmering a special effect through the tree leafs Reggie wearing a typical white button-down shirt and well ironed dress pants but wears also a well knitted beige and blood red pattern pullover sweater vest and a black Letterman jacket with a big red R stitched to his chest's right side, his hair combed in a messy side bangs style to the left side of his face. Honestly, Vinnie doesn't know if this was more cute or sexy and he was pretty scared of both. "I-I could change if you want..." Reggie stated, snapping Vinnie out of his daze to realize he's been staring holes into the poor werewolf. "No no you're okay Reg. Just uh...caught me off guard is all. It's cool." Vinnie spoke up with his hands up in defense.

Reggie giggles some, causes Vinnie's undead heart to for sure jumble in beats like a drum.

The first stop of this little date for the two monsters was a nice little fly over the town to the date's main destination. Reggie clings to Vinnie from behind, his face so close to his their cheeks are barely touching softly, his eyes watching the town below them. "Gee Vinnie, this is beautiful." He whispered but Vinnie heard it very well, his warm breath gently dancing across Vinnie's ear, his cheeks warming up in a soft shade of pink, a smile appearing on the vampire's lips. If anything, if he had a chance to say it, Reggie was the most beautiful thing to Vinnie's eyes. Though as a sad as it had pained him he knew he would crash into something if he doesn't focus.

His eyes scanned around the area before carefully landing in front of a cafe looking place. Reggie looked around the place when he climbed down from the vampire's back as he tucked in his wings. "Um... Vinnie." Reggie mumbled softly as he dragged his feet closer to Vinnie. Vinnie let out a hum, "Yeah Reg?" "Correct me if I'm wrong but this is a human cafe is it not?" Indeed it was. "Yeah. I figured to have a nice bite here for a change." "True it's just... don't you rather want to go to Ms. White's Diner? It's one of your favorites right?" Vinnie had to fight back the urge of going to his favorite 50's diner and share a monster shake with Reggie, he had a plan and he's sticking to it. He gently takes his paw and said, "This is just as good Reg, promise. Plus they serve your favorite here. Trust me." Reggie looked at the place and at Vinnie, seemed to be small on numbers of humans... So it could be okay right?

The two monsters entered the cafe and walked it's way to a table right in the center. The place was nice, clean, quiet, cute, and had a nice nature aesthetic with potted plants hanging from the ceiling and the smell of coffee and tea with some sweets filling your sense of smell. "This place is nice." Reggie said, his eyes focused on every little detail around him. The V-Man couldn't help but smile proudly, the date's going so well so far.

A waiter walks over to their table with a notepad and spoke to the two teenage monsters, "Afternoon gentlemen. What can I get you for drinks?" Vinnie opened the menu. "I'd like a black coffee with a side of milk creamer." The waiter nodded and looked at Reggie waiting for his answer. The werewolf quietly looked through the menu, his eyes widening like space saucers. "O-Oh my...Um...w-water would be fine..." The waiter wrote the orders down before hurrying to the back. Reggie looked at Vinnie with a raised brow, "This place is expensive Vinnie. They don't even serve your favorite drinks here. And I think you need it, you look ill..."

Vinnie knew Reggie was worried, he can hear it in his voice, but he can't simply explain it... Since the night before last he hasn't had a drop of blood to nibble a sip from due to how stressed and nervous he was getting over asking Reggie out and planning out this perfect date. Black coffee was the best he could get to that bitter goodness. And if not, the creamer would do the trick. Still, he knew he can't say all that to Reggie, not to seem not cool in front of his crush but also because he doesn't want the werewolf to feel bad or blame himself. Instead he just smiles his traditional smile and leaned back in his chair as he coats his voice with soothing calmness, "It's fine Reg. Everything fine actually. I just... had a big batch during breakfast and need the coffee here is good as I'm told. Plus, the money, don't worry. I got it covered." He finishes with a wink and another smile which caused Reggie's shoulders to calm down slightly.

After a few more seconds the waiter returned with their drinks and a notepad still in hand, "Here is your black coffee with a side of milk creamer and your glass of water sirs. May I interest you into something to eat?" Vinnie glances at the man's meaty neck and silently licked his fang out of sights, his brain wracking him inside his skull to try and not accept the urge to chomp down onto that neck and drink up. His hand quickly grabbed the coffee cup as soon as it was set and took a big gulp of it. Bitter. Not as bitter but still helps a little. He thought, feeling his nerves calm down a bit more. He glances over at Reggie and smiles, "Why don't you order first? I'll follow after." Reggie fixes his glasses and looked over the menu, a few times his eyes peeking at Vinnie as if asking for his help. "G-Gee...there's a lot of good options... Um..." He pondered out loud, Vinnie could see the human tapping his pen in a annoyance type manner. He bite down on his bottom lip some to fight back his new urge to range his neck. Before the urge could happen for real, Reggie's voice rang out to Vinnie's ears, "I-I guess I can have the Pea & Carrot Soup with the Greek Salad as the side?" "And you sir?" Vinnie had to remember how to talk before he took a quick glance at the menu before blurting out his order, "I'd like a French Onion Soup." And like before the man walked away after writing the orders down.

Vinnie noticed Reggie seemed more awkward and fidgety then his usual form. "Everything alright Reg?" Vinnie asked, his voice truly worried. He truly is worried for Reggie. Maybe he caught that waiter's rudeness towards them because of their race? Maybe it's the fact it's clearly two boys out doing things beyond friends? The vampire's head is just about to explode over the thoughts on what could be wrong with his Reggie- My Reggie? Vinnie thought of having Reggie of his very own before... I mean it did sound nice to him but would Reggie be down to being...

Reggie softly shook his head with a mumbled, "It's nothing, really..." But Vinnie knew something's been bothering his pal. Maybe... Vinnie felt sick thinking this, Maybe he's not comfortable being on a date with me... Before he knew it the food had arrived but the two didn't seem in the mood to enjoy it... Vinnie gulped down the rest of his coffee and stared down at his dish.

Great, my nerves are all over the place now and Reggie ain't having a good time... He thought as he watched Reggie gently nibble on his soup and salad, the two barely having one or two small conversations. This date is going terrible...

The two left the cafe quietly and quickly after paying for the bill. The two were still pretty silent. Reggie broke this awkward pause in the air with a smile, "The food was pretty good Vinnie." Vinnie doesn't reply. "Vinnie..?" Suddenly, the second monster on this date let out a groan like sigh before slumping his body down a grass area in the side walk, "That stupid waiter! 50 bucks and all he had to do is make it nice!"

Reggie tilt his head at this and quietly asked, "What do you mean...?" There was a pause when Vinnie looked away with no answer, causing it to click to the smarter of the two. "Vinnie Stoker, did you pay a human waiter for our date?" Vinnie sighed, "Not just paid Reggie, I paid the guy $50 to hold off any other reservations so it can be just us... I know you don't like really crowded places but that guy ruined it. I wasted 50 from my allowance just to have a guy be rude to you." Vinnie covered his face with his palms. "I'm sorry Reg...I really am..." Surprising Vinnie, Reggie grabbed his hand and pulls him up before guiding him somewhere.

"Hey Reg, where we going?" He asked, but his question fell on deaf ears as the werewolf still guided him silently. Suddenly the vampire began to feel a new kind of nervous. Was Reggie mad? Was he going to yell at him for bribing a human? Does he know he hasn't been drinking his daily sips of blood? He felt sick at the ideas of any of those being true and he blew this date... His one chance... And he blew it major time... There might not even be a second chance in this... "Look Reg..." Vinnie started, hanging his head low in shame. Reggie stopped him, "You didn't have to do any of that Vinnie. I would be perfectly fine going to any place we usual go." Vinnie did not want this date to be ruined. He did not want his friendship to be tainted. All Vinnie wanted to do was do what he planned, even if it was sudden...

"I like you Reggie!"

Reggie stopped suddenly and whipped his head around so fast he must've felt dizzy. No turning back now huh? Vinnie thought, taking a deep breath in, "I've always liked you Reg... And I mean really like you... Like...Like... I always get happy in the mornings because I get a chance to be near you at school, it's the only reason why I don't ditch as often. And when you're not there I feel sad...so sad I feel sick... I often re-read the messages we send back and forth after school because I miss talking to you that much... A-And that time when I was running for School President and you were helping me... Reggie, I felt so happy just being around you...seeing you so happy at what you were doing... I know this isn't stuff you want to hear instead of a apology...but I swear to you it's truer then true Reggie... I really like you... I've liked you for so long...I don't know when but I know when I figured it out... when you were fallin from the sky and I was running to you... All that's been runnin' around my head was "I can't let him go"... Reggie... you matter to me so much the idea of you not here with me is killing me..."

Vinnie was so scared to look up at his friend, scared he made it worst... "I just...I know this date ended up bad... but I-" Vinnie's words were cut short when he lifted his head to finally face his nerves, quickly his lips were covered by the soft fur of Reggie's lips. The teen vampire felt his undead heart beat for miles and miles as every second slowly passes by between them, his eyes widen more then the usual wide but slowly his body began to melt by the warmth of Reggie's lips and they slowly blinked to a close while his lips push pressure back into the kiss.

The kiss lasted about a extra minute before the two pulled away, Vinnie's ears catching a soft small puppy like whine coming from deep back within Reggie's neck. "You like my lips that much Reg?" Vinne asked with a tease in his voice, smiling more when see that same expression of bashfulness Vinnie witness when he asked Reggie out in the first place. "Okay, I'm sorry... does...this mean you like me too...?" He asked, hopeful of his words being a positive. Reggie giggles softly, "Of course it means I like you Vinnie... Why else would I agree to go on a date and kiss you?" Vinnie felt stupid asking such a obvious question. "And...why else would I do this?" After Reggie said that, he guided Vinnie again towards a secret spot. A nice little isolated hill spot overlooking the entire town and beach. Reggie...planned this? The vampire looked at Reggie in disbelief, now noticing the blush fur on his cheeks. "I... I like you too Vinnie... A lot... I've always had felt it too but that day when you risked everything just for me was when I realize it was more then a simple crush... And I wanted to show you how I felt since then...but I was too chicken to even bring it up in conversation... So, when you asked me out, I was nervous that I might miss my shot...so..." "So you ended up setting this up?" Reggie nodded some, his bangs sweeping over his warm brown eyes in a cute shy manner.

Vinnie smiles softly and wrapped his arms around Reggie's frame, his lips lightly touching a small peck on his cheek. Sure, this wasn't the date I had planned... Reggie giggles and gently sat on the grass, Vinnie following after. The sun was just about going darker as the stars began to appear above them like candles they used to have lit from their old fears of the unknown... Vinnie could help but smile when seeing Reggie's happy face when he cuddles into him. But I honestly couldn't ask for anything better.

#gravedale high #vinnie stoker #reggie moonshroud #vinnie/reggie #reggie/vinnie #vampire boyfriend #werewolf boyfriend #fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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clevercorvidae · 4 years

Text

BNHA Common Misconceptions

I’ve been seeing wayyy too much bs on my dash lately. So I thought I’d share some of my thoughts on some Controversy™

***Spoilers For The Manga***

1. “What the HPSC did to Hawks wasn’t bad”

A government organization putting a young child through rigorous training so that he can be used as a tool is bad. I don’t know why I have to spell that out

Hawks had to abandon his real name at a very young age. That’s damaging for a kid’s sense of identity. His identity as a person no longer has any separation from his work as a hero. Being a hero is all he is now. I wouldn’t be surprised if (provided Hawks’s wings are gone for good) he has an identity crisis after this arc because he can’t be “Hawks” anymore.

Hawks is based on Lionel Messi, a soccer player recruited at a young age in return for paying for his medical procedures. I’ve seen people say that Hawks chose to be a hero. One, he was a child, young children shouldn’t be making decisions like that. Two, we know based on context clues that Keigo was more than likely living in poverty, possibly with alcoholic parents, and we literally are told that the HPSC payed for his family’s living expenses. Do you really think Keigo had much of a choice here?

I’ve seen people say “it’s just like what UA is doing”. First of all, UA is called out for being irresponsible and endangering their students IN UNIVERSE. Second, Keigo was a young child, the UA kids are 15+. There’s a huge difference.

2. “Mitsuki isn’t abusive”

Honestly when it comes to her smacking Katsuki, I could excuse it as a joke done in poor taste and not hold it over her as a character.

Hitting him WASNT just discipline tho. You should never, ever, under any circumstances hit your kid. Fuck that noise.

What I really have an issue with is what she SAYS to Katsuki. Her guilt tripping him isn’t a throwaway line either. He repeats the sentiment that he is responsible for Kamino during Deku v Kacchan 2. It’s one of the main reasons he fights Deku.

Horikoshi says that Katsuki has a good relationship with his mother. In that case, he did a horrible job at presenting that. What is written in the canon is what should be used as the basis for how we interpret her character.

3. “Shigaraki chose to kill his family/was born evil”

No...just...no. He was FIVE for crying out loud.

He wanted to be a hero, and took extra care to play with kids that had no friends. He definitely wasn’t born evil lmao.

His quirk manifested while he was having an emotional crisis. Decay is controlled by emotion so of course it went haywire.

He didn’t even know it was him doing it at first.

“But Shigaraki said he WANTED it to happen” Shigaraki is an unreliable narrator. What we actually SEE tells a very different story. He reaches out to Hana and his Mother for help. His grandparents are just caught in the shockwave. The ONLY person he killed on purpose was his father.

Now when it comes to his father, he had just beat him and locked him outside. He’s FIVE, and he has no healthy outlet for his anger and frustration. Hell, we see that in his “itchiness”, he only feels like this in the house, because his father makes him suppress his love for heroes and his dream to become one. He takes joy in killing his father because it’s the only release he’s ever experienced.

The fact that you guys forget that this is an abused child with no real control over his quirk that just got beaten and locked outside... Nope, no reading comprehension here.

4. “The League of Villains are justified/are a revolutionary group”

...Shigaraki has stated over and over again that he just wants to destroy everything. He doesn’t care about reform or improving anything. That one panel in Ch. 222, where he says he wants to destroy everything I think sums it up perfectly.

He wants to destroy EVERYTHING good or bad or neither or both. There’s a newborn baby, a field of flowers , Nine, various heroes, the UA kids, etc all varying in innocence.

The rest of the league have very different goals and reasons why they continue to support Shigaraki. Twice wants to protect the only people that accepted him. Spinner just wants to have purpose for his life. Toga wants to live the way she wishes with no consequences. Compress is also here.

The only “revolutionary” is Dabi. But his views are not universal throughout the league.

Even if they were trying to improve things. They have killed countless innocent people, they’ve tried to kill the UA kids too. That’s not ok. And it’s not erased by the fact that they’ve done good. (I do appreciate them for killing the MHA version of the KKK, truly epic of you)

5. “Hawks is abusive”

It’s not abuse to manipulate someone for info when you’re a double agent. It’s kinda shitty, and you could argue that it was unnecessary for Hawks to do so in context. But it’s not abuse.

Y’all need to stop using the word abuse/abusive tendencies to describe all immoral actions

I’ve also seen people say that Hawks has abusive tendencies (as in he’s abusive in all his relationships with other characters) and...do I really need to explain why that makes no sense at all?

6. “Twice deserved to die/it was necessary to kill him”

Feel like I need to remind people that we’ve only ever actually seen Twice kill one guy and that was one of the KKK guys.

Twice isn’t evil, even Hawks admits that he is a genuinely good person. Good people don’t deserve to die.

It wasn’t necessary, and here’s why: Hawks could’ve just knocked him out or even just severely injured him. (Or the HPSC could’ve just grown a brain cell and sent more people to back him up, making it easier to hold back his quirk and arrest him)

Hawks shouldn’t have killed Twice, he only killed him because he’s been raised as a child soldier and I wouldn’t be surprised if what he told Twice about taking out villains was a direct quote from the HPSC

Also, Hawks would’ve killed Twice with or without Dabi’s intervention

Something I do have to say though is that Hawks was right not to just let Twice go. It’s tragic because Twice WAS leaving to help his friends, but the other side of that tragedy it that his friends are terrorists. If he was allowed to leave a shit ton of people would have died (again that doesn’t mean he deserved to die either, don’t get it twisted)

The WHOLE POINT of Hawks v Twice is to make you question who the bad guy is. Both characters are morally gray and the only reason they even have to fight is because of the outside forces controlling their fates. It’s supposed to be tragic it’s supposed to be unclear who is in the right, so stop arguing about it.

7. “Bakugou is abusive/irredeemable” (I know it’s been talked to death but I still see it everywhere)

People are, in fact, allowed to grow past the person they were in middle school.

Most people get hung up on the “throw yourself off a building” line. Which is fair, but again, he was in middle school.

People also say “he hasn’t apologized yet”. Yeah? And? The story isn’t over yet. Horikoshi has already acknowledged that too. I don’t know what you want? People who like him know that his arc isn’t over yet.

I’ve seen a lot of people denying his character development. In the beginning of the series he was a bully and let his ego control him. I don’t think he’s bullied...anyone since Deku v Kacchan 2. He insults people but they obviously don’t take it seriously.

He’s also gone from preferring to fail a final exam to avoid working with Deku, to following him into battle against Shigaraki.

Also, when he actually likes and respects someone he doesn’t mistreat them. This is the same thing with Hawks where y’all NEED to stop misusing the word abuse. He was an abusive friend to Deku when they were kids, that’s it.

8. “Rei was abusive too!”

I’m BEGGING YOU to learn what the term “abuse” means istg

She had a psychotic break. She genuinely thought it was her abusive husband coming through the door, and she acted out of fear.

“Well that’s not an excuse” yes it fucking is. Not to mention that as soon as she realized what happened, she sobs hysterically because she hurt Shouto and tries to use her quirk to help him.

I genuinely don’t understand why people think this

9. “Dabi actually does care about the league”

Listen, I know it sounds harsh, but y’all need to get your heads out of your piles of headcanons.

We know next to nothing about how Dabi feels about just about anything. But we do see that he’s aloof and distant with the league, he doesn’t put in more than he needs to. The rest of the league think of each other as family. Dabi straight up says he doesn’t give a shit about them.

“What if he was just putting up a front for Hawks” Why? Why would he do that? When asked who he was he answered him. He tells him how he feels about hero society and Stain. Not to mention that he was getting ready to kill him. If he was hiding his true feelings about the league I doubt he would’ve so easily said that he didn’t care about them but rather how useful they were.

At this point it’s just wishful thinking. Based on everything we’ve seen in the series so far and everything we know about Dabi, I think it’s safe to say that he doesn’t care about them all that much. If he secretly does care about them, I’d say it’s likely that he doesn’t even know he does.

Idk why all of a sudden villain stans and hero stans are feuding over things that shouldn’t even be up for debate in the first place. Sorry if this came off as super aggressive, I’m just sick of seeing this stuff all over the place. If anyone has anything to add go ahead

#bnha #bnha spoilers #discourse #bakugou katsuki #Hawks #keigo takami #dabi #league of villains #mitsuki bakugou #shigaraki tomura

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blackicephantom · 3 years

Text

The black dragon and the coward CH. 13

Here is the next chapter!

Even if it feels like nobody's reading this anymore...... well, what ever.

Enjoy!

Tagged: @patolemus , @runestarchild

- . - . - . - . - . - . - . - . - .- . - . -

The storm blew over and Tsuna was exhausted.

It’s been a damn long day and he was still injured, time to rest up. Reborn, who apparently read his thoughts, picked him up as easy as it gets and just said “Time for bed.” He didn’t even notice when the dragon changed forms again….. Definitely time to sleep.

Once again cradled in these strong and safe arms he let his mind slip away. To the forgotten days, the happy times. When Reborn put him down on the bed he was already fast asleep.

. - . - . - . - . - . - . - . - . - . -

Reborn was…...excited. There was a certain thrill and tension that he couldn’t shake. He wanted to hunt, to hurt, to burn. He wanted to finally act on his instincts but he knew that he had to wait, just this little bit longer! His tail thrashed form side to side and there was a constant low rumbling coming from his throat. If he was someone else he would be embarrassed but as things were standing no one would say anything.

A small giggle brought him out of his reverie and he looked over to the small brunette in his bed. Tsuna had a serious case of bedhead and had this little sleepy smile. He looked so relaxed and, dare he say it, beautiful. This right here, is how it should have been from the beginning. “Finally awake sleepyhead?” was the first thing he asked. Still smiling, the boy sat up and stretched his arms over his head. Then he stood up and cracked his back and neck. With each crack and pop another satisfied sigh left the boy's lips. Yes, this is perfection incarnate. A powerful and capable sky, right here beside him and just waiting for the rest of their strange family. Another content purr echoed through his den which made Tsuna laugh again.

After a simple but filling breakfast they started their preparations. There were dragons to welcome after all. The young heir tried to remember what he could and told Reborn about it. He in return confirmed or denied his facts, which helped him a great deal to sort his thoughts. That’s the moment when another thought occurred to him. What happened to Aria? He thought long about it. Should he ask his draconian companion? Did she make it? Or was there another grave somewhere? `Don’t think such depressing thoughts Tsuna!´. Realizing that there’s only one way to find out, he went looking for the black Dragon.

Said dragon sat waiting patiently, like he had anticipated Tsuna's arrival. “I know you Dame-Tsuna. You’ve still got something to ask.” was the answer to his unasked question. His smirk was visible even in his dragon form, impossible as it should be. Shaking his head and laughing the brunette settled down right in front of the other and looked him in his yellow eyes. “You’re right, there’s still something I would like to know. But I don’t really know if I want to hear the answer.” Humming softly, Reborn lowered his head to the ground and made himself comfortable. “Have you forgotten what Luce always told you? When there’s something you want to know-” he started. “- then don’t hesitate to ask. A simple question costs nothing but a bit of courage.” Tsuna finished. Visibly proud the reptile looked up to the sky and asked again. “So, what is it? Spill.” A few minutes there was nothing but the sounds around them, before he found his voice. “It’s just….. I mean I’ve been wondering…. Oh damn it! I wanted to ask about Aria!” The last sentence was almost a shout and Rebon wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Aria was another rather sore spot but just like the rest, Tsuna deserved to know. With a sigh the dragon started his little story.

After the departure of his brothers Reborn was all alone with his memories. His memories and with Aria. He’s not stupid, he knows that she coulnd’t stay here with him. But where could he send her? Was there even a safe place for her? Watching the sleeping fledgling his heart broke again, as she grieved even when deeply asleep. With every new tear his resolve strengthened. This place can never again be home for her. Not this godforsaken place where her mother was ruthlessly murdered right in front of her. Not the place where her little brother was taken from her, while she was unable to do anything.

He thought. He thought long and hard, for days on end. But no solution would come to him. Until Aria herself contributed something. It’s been just a few weeks but she’s almost all grown up. This is the curse that all Skydragons share: a short childhood, followed by a just as short life. Sure, they still lived longer than humans but from a dragon's perspective their life was fleeting. “I know that you want to protect me. And I am thankful for all that you’ve done until now. But I don’t want to burden you further than this.” He waited in tense anticipation. It was clear that she was Luce’s child. Always prepared….

She continued with a small and sad smile. “I will go on a journey. I will visit many places and meet many people. Until someone catches my eye and I settle down.” Yellow eyes widened. This…...this was way too specific for some random plan! There was only one explanation: A Vision. Aria has her mothers gift. “I hope that you will take just as good care of my daughter when the time comes, because she is going to be an orphan way too early. But don’t worry, she won’t see a single thing.” Reborn couldn't respond to the sheer mass of information he was given. Aria has seen her whole life. Probably from the day after tomorrow until the day she dies. It’s just as fascinating as it’s sad….

But she seemed to understand this, for she said nothing about it. Not even when a few stubborn tears rolled down the usually stone cold face. “Please take care. If the day comes, visit her. She will be in the care of the Millefiore family and will also inherit our gift.” Now he was outright sobbing. He wanted to clutch her tight and never let go, but he knew better by now. He knew that when he woke up tomorrow she would be gone. So he pulled her closer and embraced her one last time, already mourning his second sky. She returned his hug just as tightly and shed quite a few tears herself. This man was like a father after all. Just like all the others that will never know of this. As they slowly pulled away from each other she said one last thing that would change everything for him. “And please do me a favour. Greet Tsunayoshi in my name when he returns, ok? And pamper him, because it won’t be easy for him. Be patient. You will forget, but you will also remember.”

The next morning was dark and gray and he stood alone in the pouring rain.

On that day he started to kill every human that ventured to far into the forest, too far into his territory. That was the day the legend of the Midnightblack Sundragon was born.

“It happened just like she said. She found a nice man and gave birth to Yuni. A raid on their village took first her husband and then herself, Yuni was away with some servants. Ever since that day she’s been with the Millefiore family. And there’s of course the part with the forgetting. I have absolutely no idea how or why this happened but I know that whatever it was, was lifted on the day I brought you back to this damned village.”

The young sky needed time to work through all this information. First of all: his fear came true. There WAS another grave for him to visit. His sister, gone, just like their mother but her daughter still safe and sound. Second: the reason Reborn and he couldn’t remember each other was because of an outside interference. And the third: clairvoyance is as handy as it is scary. His respect for Luce and Aria just went through the roof. Not to forget the poor Yuni…..who knows what she has already seen? `So many things to consider. And no time to dwell.´ Shaking his head Tsuna looked up at his friend. Reborn’s head was turned away from him, but he could still feel the tension, so he reached out and gently petted the dark scales. The reaction was instantaneous, Reborn relaxing and putting his head on the brunette's lap.

In this moment of peace he thought about the other Arcobaleno. Have they changed? Were they lonely during all these years? But most importantly: were they all ok?

Instead of all these things he asked something completely different.

“Ne ne, Reborn. Who do you think will arrive first?” Said dragon just blinked for a moment before snorting and then outright laughing. There’s no reason to be surprised, Tsuna was also Luce’s kid after all. Trying and failing to stop laughing for several minutes the mythical creature stood up again and looked up. “What a stupid question. Since the closest thing to the sky, the sun, is already here, there's just one possibility. There’s just one single person that could arrive here first. A drifting cloud, never to be bound.” Just as he finished his sentence a loud chirping and the rustling of feathers could be heard. Both sounds grew louder and closer and Tsuna couldn’t wait. The drifting cloud was none other than Skull! Beating wings came into view, followed by the dark purple body and the swishing tail. Another chirp sounded and this time Reborn answered with his own call. Their eyes met even over this distance and the Clouddragon started his neck breaking decent.

Feet touched the ground and carved their way thru the soil until he stood still right before the boy he had missed dearly, right beside the brother that called them back. Still not quite believing his eyes he hesitated. What if this was nothing but a cruel, cruel dream? But then Reborn stood up and came impossibly closer, only to nudge him with his maw and nipping playfully on his beak. `Not a dream then.´ The next thing he knew he laid a few meters away on the ground, apparently the black of the other whipped him away. Literally. But… the sting was shockingly pleasant, so he just got up again, shook out his scales and bound over again. First he tackled his fellow dragon down and cuddled with him. But even if the Sundragon complained, he didn't throw him off. Next thing he did was transform and then kneel before the poor boy, almost as if was worshipping him. Instead of praise tho, only apologies left his mouth and that just wouldn't do. Careful hand reached out and took hold of his now wet cheeks. Slowly raising his head he was met with the gentle brown they had tried to protect. One hand carted through his violet hair and soothed him, gave him comfort he hasn’t had since he was captured. “It’s ok Skull.” Completely overwhelmed, he flung himself in Tsuna’s arms and was glad to be caught.

An hour, maybe even two went by before the next dragon came home.

None of them looked up, the wind telling them who had arrived the moment their master was close enough. Red scales shone brightly and the young Vongola just stepped forward with outstretched arms. Shortly after that he was rewarded with the big and fluffy head of the Stormdragon. He pet the white mane and put their foreheads together as a symbol of familiarity. The following grumbling was as sweet as it was calming and gave him the opportunity to ignore the other two in the background where Reborn just sat atop of Skull, not caring if the other had enough air to breath. But he still heard the quiet “The furios storm that never rests.” and couldn't be happier.

Just then the ground started to shake and tremble, until a rather large hole had opened up right where they stood. The first one to emerge was the bulky form of the Lightningdragon, who immediately stomped over to him, while the indigo coloured snake made its way over to the other dragons….. Only to start choking Skull. Already tired of this Fon also made his way over, at least to make sure that they wouldn’t kill the third one. Tsuna just watched for a short moment, when a long maw nudged him in the stomach and a small and harmless lightning bolt rushed across his arm. Giggling he scratched the crocodile look alike right between the eyes and earned a thumping foot. When Verde had enough he switched places with Viper, only without the choking part…. The closer Viper came, the smaller he got and when he was at the boys feet he just waited till he was offered an arm. Slowly crawling up the limp he made his home right around Tsuna's neck, like a living and breathing and very venomous necklace. “Welcome home our dear protective lightning rod and bewildering Mistdragon.”

. - . - . - . - . - . - . - . - . - . - . -

The day was almost over and one Arcobaleno was still missing. “What the fuck is Colonello doing out there? Picnicking?” While Skull laughed at that Verde looked rather thoughtful. “He is still bound to the waters if he wants to travel efficiently. But the nearest ocean is a few miles behind that accursed village.” With that he caught everyone's attention, because he was right. “Do you think something happened to him?” asked Tsuna worried. The green haired man looked away before shrugging. “It is a possibility.” Just as Tsuna wanted to say something else, Reborn was beside him and shielded him with one of his wings. That's the only heads up they got as a torrent of rain came over them. If Reborn hadn’t reacted, Tsuna would be soaked to the bone. But everyone wasn’t so lucky. Just watching the still draconian fish roll around laughing made the boy shake his head. `He deserves what's coming for him.´ Melodious giggles promptly cut off as electricity crackled through the air and Verde changed between one flash and another. “RUN.” Colonello didn’t need to be told twice. Because his fins were practically useless on land he changed as well and booked it out of the cave they had waited in. Verde gave him three seconds of a head start and then set off after him.

All of the others just listened as the newcomer tried to calm the raging crocodile but he had no such luck. Reborn smirked, Fon just drank his tea, Skull laughed like there was no tomorrow and Viper just shook his head in exasperation. “Those two are just as bad as you and Skull, Reborn.” Said dragon just shrugged with his shoulders and answered “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”

A loud scream tore through the night, right before a bright green flash could be seen…… No one moved but as a rather satisfied Lightningdragon returned it was clear what happened out there. “Uhm………” Sighing the black Sundragon took it upon himself to go look for the blonde. Grabbing a big glass of water from the table he went outside. Tsuna wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that he heard nothing yet. But when both dragons returned he was relieved. Colonello had a few burnes, electricity still crawling along his skin and hair standing on end but looked better than expected. `The rain that washes away the blood has also returned.´ The Arcobaleno were together again.

Looking around this strange and chaotic group of people he has the honor to call family, Tsuna couldn't help his tears. This is what he wanted, what he had missed after returning `home´. This is what no one at the village would or could give him. Not even his own parents.

Several arms engulfed his small frame and held him close, while six different tones hummed Luce's lullaby for him. He grabbed onto the closest person, this being Fon this time and just enjoyed the closeness and the warmth. Yes, this is HOME. This and nowhere else.

That night, the only Vongola heir slept surrounded by six lethal dragons. Creatures said to kill in cold blood and are able to hold quite a grudge. But Tsuna never felt saver.

Tomorrow, he would visit Yuni with Reborn. Tomorrow, they will plan what to do with the village that had failed to raise him and to keep him. Tomorrow…... he just couldn’t wait.

_TBC_

#khr #reborn x tsuna #r27 #dragon and coward #fanfic

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

A Day In The Life

MASTERLIST

This daddy Spencer fic came to be by the thought of me wanting even MORE daddy Spence, so I thought why not write something where it’s just a typical day in his life with his family/the kids/pets? Thus, this was born. Just a heads up, this entire fic is told completely in Spencer’s point of view, just to give the utmost feels, which you should definitely experience in this.

Thank you to @teamkiall for giving me permission to use her real life pupper Hopper in this; he was so fun to write. Thank you to her for some of the phrases I used in this. Also, thank you to everyone who helped me pick which bunny to use as inspiration of Duke for, including: @reidsstudies, @andiebeaword, @lightinthedarkuniverse, @one-sweet-gubler, @nanocoool, @multifandommandy and the anons who all offered their input. I appreciate you all, greatly!

Finally, for a little insight on some of the bunny things I wrote about. For those who don’t know or aren’t as familiar with bunny behavior, I’ve linked a few Instagram posts for y’all to refer to when reading. It really helps when reading if you know what they look like.

Bunny Binky (in slow-mo, usually a lot quicker)

Bunny Flop

Bunny Loaf

Now sit back, relax and enjoy all 10.2k words of daddy Spencer. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 10,283

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

Spencer’s eyes opened to not only the bright morning sun, but to a wide awake, hyper, three year old little girl.

“Yes, baby?” he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

His little girl Evie—born Evie Laine Reid—was currently jumping up and down on the bed at his feet. She flung herself on top of him and he over exaggerated his reaction, acting like she was the heaviest thing, making her giggle.

“What are you doing up so early?” he asked, pulling her into his arms.

“It nawt eawly.”

One glance at the clock and he realized it was after 8:30 a.m.

“Where’s your mommy?” Spencer asked, looking over at the empty space in bed where his wife, Y/N, usually occupied.

In her place though was their German Shepherd, Hopper. He laid his head next to Spencer’s hand and Spencer smiled, giving him some ear scratches.

Hopper was a giant teddy bear. At only two years old, he’d had enough trauma in his own life that made Spencer want to adopt him even more than he initially had. The poor canine had been severely mistreated and starved to the point his ribs had been showing when Spencer first laid eyes on him. After telling Y/N about the dog, they both decided to make their home his forever home. Despite having been through such hardships, he was such a happy and loving dog. It’s one of the things that Spencer loved about him most.

Patches of brown and white made up his fur color, although he was mostly brown. His face was a majority brown, a few lighter brown patches surrounding his eyes and an almost gray hued spot just about his nose. His ears were almost bigger than his head and as comical as it was, it made him even cuter than he already was—if that was even possible. He also loved his stuffed ducky, he made sure to take it to bed with him every night.

“I no no. I just wake up,” Evie answered his earlier question.

Hopper woofed softly and nosed Evie making her laugh and hug his neck.

“I wonder where Duke is,” Spencer asked, scanning the room to see if he was on the bedroom floor somewhere.

“Pwobably in fwont of da fwidge waiting for bweakfast,” Evie giggled.

Duke was their sassy, gray, 2 pounds of complete fluff, Netherland Dwarf rabbit. Yes, he had a bunny too. Spencer had never thought about owning a bunny before, until he met Duke.

He, too, was a rescue, like Hopper. After being abandoned in a park by his previous owner, he was rescued by a shelter who took amazing care of him until Spencer came along and fell in love with him. Now, he was a happy six year old bunny who looked incredibly grumpy on the outside but was actually a sweetheart. His favorite things—other than napping and eating—were hanging out on the back of the couch to “watch” TV with him and Y/N and flop next to them—or Hopper, who happened to be his best friend ever. He loved head pets, bananas and licking Spencer’s slippers. He was a cutie that you just couldn’t help but love.

One of his routine things was speeding to the kitchen every morning if he heard even the slightest indication that someone was up. He would sit in front of the fridge until someone fed him his daily breakfast of mixed leafy greens.

He had pellets twice a day, endless hay to munch on and treats every now and then, yet he acted like they never fed him. It was quite humorous.

Also, if you didn’t get him his breakfast in a timely fashion he made sure to let you know of his displeasure and thump.

Spencer hadn’t known as much about bunnies when Duke first came home with them and about had heart failure the first time he heard Duke thump. Turns out, thumping was just a bunny quite literally thumping their back feet against the floor, something they did to show their displeasure or when they’re startled or frightened. Most of the time now though, it was just because he wasn’t being fed fast enough.

Despite his demands, he was an essential part of Spencer’s family, just like Hopper was.

He took a quick glance at his phone to see if he had any missed messages and saw a text from Y/N letting him know that she’d gone to the store. He felt more at ease knowing she was just out running errands. It was always a treat to wake up next to Y/N every morning and he missed it when he wasn’t able to.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you some breakfast,” Spencer said getting out of bed, lifting Evie up in his arms.

His little girl wasn’t so little anymore. She was heavier to carry now a days and didn’t want to be carried as much anyways, so he always took advantage of all the times she let him.

He headed out of the bedroom with her, Hopper right behind him on his heels.

“What would you like to eat, baby?”

“Pincakes,” she said, causing him to laugh.

She still couldn’t say pancakes all that well and it came out sounding more like “pincakes”.

“Let’s go check on your brother and sister, okay? Unless mommy took them shopping with her.”

Spencer set Evie down in front of the nursery and she pushed the door open, running in. He tried to hurry and stop her in case they were still asleep, but they were already awake.

“MOWNIN BABIES!” Evie squealed happily.

Standing in their cribs, already wide awake were their ten month old twins, Aden James—Y/N’s name pick—and Isla Jade, his pick. The girls seemed to favor him more while Aden looked more like Y/N. All three had his curly, light brown hair and hazel eyes though.

“Good morning my sweet little babies,” Spencer cooed to them.

It wasn’t his first time being left with all three kids, five if you counted their fur children.

Spencer had been a stay at home dad ever since the twins were six months old. He’d loved his job as a profiler in the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit—still did actually—but after fifteen years in the field he had gotten burned out and burned out badly.

He didn’t technically resign, per se, but with the advisal from Emily Prentiss, his teammate, friend and boss, he decided to take a year long sabbatical. It was a decision that he didn’t take lightly either. He put a lot of thought into it and took his time making the decision. At the end of the day, he missed his family and wanted to spend more time with them.

Y/N was amazing and always understood his hectic, unreliable schedule and did a great job taking care of Evie, then the twins when they came along, while he was gone so much. But he knew it wasn’t fair to her or to their kids. He wanted to have the time to be with his family, be a good dad and be a good husband.

In the end, he knew work would always be there when he would be ready to return, a promise Emily had made him. For now though, he would often consult on cases his teammates were working on. At most, it only meant a few phone calls and some work time in his study, but never anything to take away from his relationship with his kids and Y/N. In fact, he was enjoying it much more than he ever thought he would.

It was nice, too. Y/N worked from home with a flexible job that allowed her to work whenever she could. As a mother of three, it was incredibly helpful. It also helped to have more family time, as well.

He’d become quite the super dad. Taking care of three kids three and under wasn’t easy by any means, but he’d had plenty of practice lately. He also had a newfound respect for Y/N, doing this all on her own. But for now, he knew he could handle the three of them while she was out grocery shopping.

“I bet you guys are hungry,” Spencer said, picking up Aden first as his crib was the closest to the door.

He picked up Isla in the other arm, trying to step around Hopper who was always people’s shadow. He rarely never followed a person somewhere and had to always know what was going on. With the kids and Hopper in tow, it looked like he had his own little tourist group.

Isla babbled, trying to reach down and touch Hopper’s head and he licked her hand happily. He and Duke both loved the kids as much as they loved them.

“Lead the way ladybug,” he told Evie, following her out of the nursery and down the stairs.

True to her prediction, Duke sat in front of the refrigerator door, as if waiting for the refrigerator god to open it up and sprinkle out some parsley and spinach leaves for him.

“Morning, Duke,” Spencer chuckled.

The tiny eared, grumpy faced bunny stared him from the place he sat, looking like he was judging him for sleeping in late. He most likely was.

“Just let me get the kiddos situated and I’ll feed you guys,” he told his furry friends.

Spencer sat Aden and Isla in their high chairs and sat Evie on her favorite stool at the counter. Hopper was the more patient of the two, so Spencer went to the fridge first. The second it opened, Duke started hopping around his feet in excitement, standing on hind legs to see if he could help himself to a breakfast buffet.

Combining a salad of spinach, romaine, parsley and cilantro, he sat the plate in front of an excited Duke and went about fetching Hopper’s food. It wasn’t even a full minute before he heard Duke chowing down on his breakfast, his munching quite audible.

Spencer filled Hopper’s bowl with his allotted amount of dog food and refilled his water bowl, giving him a pat on the back as he enjoyed his food.

Before starting the pancakes, he poured some puff cereal on each twins’ tray to let them eat while he cooked. To be twins, it was amazing to see how they differed—other than being fraternal twins.

Aden loved the strawberry flavored puffs, which Isla hated. She much preferred the sweet potato or the banana ones.

Aden was definitely more laid back and calm whereas his sister was loud and boisterous, something she definitely inherited from her older sister. On the other hand, Aden loved to be more independent and Isla loved just cuddling and staying close to him or Y/N.

“Daddy can I have chocowate chip pancakes?” Evie asked.

He had grabbed her a juice box from the fridge in the process of getting everyone, humans and animals alike, settled. She now sat, happily sipping on it.

“Is there anything better?” he grinned.

“Nope,” she shook her head emphatically.

He’d gotten the batter mixed up and was about to pour it on the sizzling griddle when he heard Evie calling him again.

“Mhm?” he answered, without looking.

“Isla twyin to put a puff in Aden’s ear.”

Spencer spun around just in time to see Aden pulling on Isla’s hair. Apparently he pulled hard enough to cause her to break into tears.

Things like this were just mild considering most days were even more hectic than this.

“Hey, hey. We don’t pull hair,” he scolded Aden, giving him a toy to play with.

He picked up a puff, putting it to Isla’s lips and she calmed down, eating it. They were still just grumpy from waking up and hungry, not actually upset.

“No putting puffs in your brother’s ear either, Isla,” he told her.

She grinned real big like she was proud of herself. He smiled. It was hard to be mad at any of these cute little faces.

Half an hour later after serving Isla and Aden their plain, torn into bite size pancakes, fixing Evie her chocolate chip pancake—with banana slices for a smile and chocolate chip eyes—and dealing with a ecstatic Duke who smelled the banana the instant Spencer unpeeled it, he had finally got to sit down with his own breakfast. He grabbed one more slice of banana, feeding it to Duke before stroking his head.

“That’s all you’re getting, little guy,” he chuckled.

He’d just taken a bite when the back door opened. Isla kicked her legs happily and Aden squealed as they spotted mommy first.

“Mommy!” Evie squealed, “Daddy made pancakes!”

Y/N walked in with her hands filled with grocery bags. Spencer shot up, immediately moving to help her.

“Hey baby,” he smiled, kissing her lips as he took most of the bags.

“Hey,” she smiled, setting down the bags she had left in her hands, “I thought I smelled pancakes before I walked in.”

“Chocowate chip too!” Evie piped in.

“Some of daddy’s best pancakes huh, Evie Bear?” Y/N smiled, kissing her cheek as she passed by her.

“Hey there, twinkies,” she said, calling the twins their popular nickname.

She smoothed a hand over each head of hair and kissed the top of both. Isla kept on happily eating and Aden handed her a bit of uneaten pancake which she took from him, eating.

“Thank you Aden,” she chuckled, “Good pancakes, Spence.”

“Want a plate?” he asked.

“Yes, but sit and eat. I’ll get them. You deserve a break for staying here with them,” she said, grabbing a plate out of the cabinet.

“I’m surprised you didn’t take the rugrats with you,” he commented, taking another bite of his breakfast.

“I would’ve, but it’s so much easier to grocery shop when there aren’t three extra sets of hands reaching out of the shopping cart to grab everything.”

“Touché.”

It wasn’t easy shopping alone with three kids. He attempted it once and it was a disaster. Now, either Y/N went alone or they tackled it both together with the kids, as a team.

She fixed her plate and sat next to Spencer at the island, pulling Aden’s and Isla’s high chairs closer to her. Spencer pulled her into his side and kissed her head, just enjoying having her near him along with their kids.

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Spencer asked.

“Well I do need to get a little work done and clean some and take care of our little circus troop here,” she chuckled, motioning to the kids.

As if to prove her point, Aden started screaming when he dropped his sippy cup. Without even missing a beat between bites, she leaned down and picked it up, handing it back to him.

“How about I keep them entertained and watch them so you can get some work done,” he offered.

“Spence, you don’t have to do that. Aren’t you needed for a conference call with the team later?” she asked.

“Yes, but I can easily pop on Netflix for the kids and just step into the kitchen. Easy as pie.”

“Whatever you say, super dad,” she smiled, “But thank you. I owe you.”

“I’ll add it to your tab,” he winked.

He could think of a few things he’d like to ask for.

•

After breakfast, his little tribe moved from the kitchen to the living room.

He set Evie up with some toys, a coloring book and colored pencils while he changed the diapers.

“Ew stinky!” Evie complained, putting a hand over her nose.

Spencer laughed, amused at his toddler. Of course, being through this twice—now with double the diapers—he was pretty used to the smell. He was pretty sure dirty diapers were worse than things he’d smelled as an FBI Agent though.

“I know, Princess, but unlike you they’re not big enough to use the potty, so me and mommy have to change their diapers.”

“Cause dey too tiny dey would fall in.”

She said it was such a straight face that it was hard for Spencer not to laugh. The minds of children always amazed him, how they put things together, how they understood things, how they saw things. It provided endless amusement, especially with Evie.

“That and they aren’t a big girl and boy like you’re a big girl.”

She smiled big before going back to coloring. Hopper laid curled up next to her. Duke, finished with his breakfast, was zooming around the room, binkying.

Aden and Isla giggled and babbled watching the hyper bunny as they tried to reach for him as they impatiently laid and wriggled while getting their diaper changed.

Eventually after tiring himself out, he flopped near Aden, who reached out to touch him.

“Be gentle,” Spencer cautioned.

It was something they’d been raising Evie to do, both with Duke and Hopper. Evie was getting better about it, but still could be a little rough. They made sure that Aden and Isla would be raised the same.

Spencer took hold of his son’s hand, helping him gently stroke Duke’s head. In return, Duke gave Aden’s hand a little kiss, licking it.

Finally finished with diaper changes, he set them on the floor to play. They were crawling everywhere by this stage, staying active and wanting to be held less and less. It was bittersweet to Spencer because the period of infancy was so short lived. Although, secretly he hoped to have another kid or two, maybe a few more. Although that was a conversation with Y/N to save for another day.

In addition to crawling, they were in the pulling up stage. They’d figured out how to grab onto things and pull themselves up. They also liked to try and knock things off tables, like it was a game.

Which is what they were currently doing.

They stood side by side, holding onto the coffee table for balance and knocking off magazines.

“Guys, no no,” Spencer said, picking the magazines up and putting them out of their reach.

He knew better than to try and put them back on the coffee table. They’d knock them off repeatedly until they were bored of it, which wouldn’t be for quite a while.

They dropped to the floor, back to crawling around and getting into things they probably shouldn’t. Aden remained happy with one of his toys and chewed on it, while Isla babbled as she crawled.

“Da da da da.”

“That’s my name,” he chuckled, trying to tidy up the messy living room just a bit.

Living with three kids often meant toys scattered all over the place. He figured trying to straighten up would save Y/N from having to do too much of it later.

“Stop it! You wuining it!”

He looked over to see Isla pushing more of Evie’s crayons on the floor, giggling like she was proud of herself. Evie on the other hand, was furious and near tears.

“Iwa stop!” she shouted.

“Isla, come here baby.”

He picked up his youngest daughter, pouring out some blocks for her to play with and setting her in front of them. He turned back to Evie who was crying now.

“Daddy she WUIN it.”

“I know, I’m sorry sweetie, come here.”

He held out his arms and she fell into them, crying out of frustration and anger.

“Iwa meanie.”

“Baby girl,” he soothed, picking her up and setting her on his lap so she could face him, “She didn’t do it on purpose.”

Evie sniffled, but didn’t say anything.

“She and Aden are only babies, Evie bug. They still don’t completely realize that they’re doing something wrong or upsetting you, they think it’s a game. In her tiny mind she probably thought she was playing with you. Besides, I can help you pick up your crayons and put them back the way you want them. Alright?”

She nodded a bit.

“Are you still mad at Isla?”

“No,” she shook her head.

“Good, I’m glad,” Spencer kissed her head, “You’re a wonderful big sister.”

“I am?”

Evie looked up into Spencer’s face, her tears now drying on her cheeks and excitement in her eyes.

“The best,” he emphasized, “How about since you’ve been such a great big sister lately, we bake some cupcakes when they take a nap later? And maybe we can play tea party if you’d like.”

Evie was now grinning big and nodded, clearly thrilled about the idea.

“There’s that pretty smile,” Spencer grinned, chucking her under the chin, “Will you go give your sissy a hug then?”

“Otay.”

She wiggled down out of Spencer’s lap and went over to Isla, who was tossing blocks around in an attempt to play with them.

Evie put her arms around Isla’s tiny body and hugged her, kissing her cheek.

“Love you, Iwa.”

Spencer smiled, his heart warming at the scene.

“That’s my sweet girls.”

•

It was amazing. Spencer had turned his back for a second and he’d already lost track of one of his kids.

“Did you see where Aden went, Evie?” Spencer asked, after rushing back from the kitchen with no luck.

“Nope.”

She hadn’t even looked away from the tv, so he was certain she hadn’t seen where he’d gone.

He couldn’t have gotten far, but it was truly incredible how fast these tots were when they were on the move.

“Aden? Where are you buddy?”

“Looking for this little duckling?”

Spencer whirled around, seeing Y/N walking in, Aden in her arms, chewing on the toy in his hands.

“Oh thank god,” he sighed, relieved, “Where was he?”

“He came crawling into your study,” she chuckled.

“I’m so sorry, babe. I swear I turned my back for a minute and he was gone.”

“Believe me I know; sneaky little things aren’t they? Don’t worry, I needed the baby break anyway.”

She tickled his cheek slightly making him grin.

“Have you gotten much work done?” Spencer asked, sitting down on the couch, pulling Y/N down with him.

“Yeah. I can finish up later anyway.”

“Daddy, can we bake now?” Evie asked with hopeful eyes.

“Baking?” Y/N raised a brow.

“I told her when the twins went down for a nap, me and her could make something special. Maybe we can even make it a surprise for you,” Spencer grinned secretively, “How about it Eves?”

“Yes!”

She was up and racing to the kitchen in a flash. Spencer had stood, ready to follow her.

“Don’t worry, I can take these two in the study with me until their nap time,” she chuckled, “Just don’t make a mess!” she called after him.

“Never.”

•

Okay, so, the kitchen was a bit of a mess.

“Daddy, I cwacked da egg!”

“You sure did. High five!”

Spencer held up his hand and her small one high fived him as she grinned big.

Evie had picked out a funfetti cake mix for her choice of cupcakes and was currently helping crack the eggs into the mix.

There was some dry cake mix spilled on the counter. Empty egg shells were scattered on it as well in the midst of the chaos of the cupcake ingredients, baking cups, electric mixer and pan.

“Okay, this is the last egg. Think you can crack it?”

“Yesh,” she nodded, taking the egg carefully, a serious look on her face.

She tapped it gently against the bowl and cracked it open like a pro. Spencer couldn’t be more proud.

It was moments like this that made him less sad about her no longer being a baby. At this age he and Y/N could do more things with her that they couldn’t when she was a baby, like this. It was always fun to include her in little tasks nowadays. It made him excited to be able to incorporate Aden and Isla when they got older.

“Now I’ll mix it up with the electric mixer. Stand back, okay?”

She nodded again, stepping a bit further away on her little stool, hands holding onto the edge of the counter as he mixed the cake batter together.

“You think that looks good enough?” he asked, letting her see into the bowl.

“Mhm.”

“Alright. Daddy’s going to pour them into the pan and then bake them.”

“Then we eat dem?”

“No, they have to cool and then we get to frost them.”

Her face fell, disappointed.

“But how about while they bake and cool we have a tea party? You can go set it up while I get these in the oven and I’ll be right there.”

“Alwight!”

She hopped off her stool and dashed out of the kitchen faster than the cartoon roadrunner, making him laugh. What a character she was.

Keeping to his word, he got the cupcakes in the oven and headed up to Evie’s room.

“Otay daddy, you wear dis.”

Evie handed him a silver toy tiara and a pink feather boa.

“You be my guest.”

“Sounds good,” he grinned, putting the items on and waiting for further instructions.

“Otay you can’t sit ‘til I say so.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She put out some of her toy, plastic food on the tea party plates and pretended to fix some tea.

“Tea sewved,” she grinned.

It was impossible for him to sit in the tiny chairs, so he sat on the floor next to the table. He picked up the tea cup, pinky out and all.

“May I drink?” he asked, politely.

“Yesh, you may,” she grinned, reaching her cup over to clink it with his.

He took a pretend sip and gave her a grin.

“Excellent tea, my dear.”

They continued playing for a while longer until she started getting sleepy. Spencer knew it was past her nap time.

He was laying her down in her bed when Y/N found him an hour later. Poor thing had been quite literally falling asleep in the middle of the tea party.

“Now that’s a nice look,” she giggled.

He looked at her, confused for a moment before he realized he still had the boa and tiara on. He grinned, pulling them off and laying them down in her room before pulling her door closed as he walked out.

“I took your cupcakes out of the oven half an hour ago,” she said.

“Dammit I forgot about them! Well that just ruined the surprise.”

“I’ll act surprised then when you present them to me,” she grinned, “I thought we could frost them while the kiddos are napping.”

“Twinkies are already down for their nap?” he asked.

“Yup. They wore themselves out crawling after Duke.”

“That poor bunny,” he chuckled.

“Hey it keeps him fit. I think Hopper was thrilled it wasn’t him for once.”

Once they were in the kitchen, Spencer wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards him.

“Who knew the house could be so quiet?” he smirked, kissing her nose.

“It is a breath of fresh air,” she smiled.

“How about instead of frosting the cupcakes we frost something else?” he grinned, “I mean I already have my own knife.”

She burst out laughing, causing him to laugh as well.

“What?” he asked, grinning.

“Spence, you’re supposed to be a genius. I’m sure you can come up with a better euphemism for sex than that.”

“I was just rolling with it,” he grinned, pulling her close to kiss her temple, “How about it though?”

She sighed, sounding defeated.

“You know I’d love to, but I need to groom Duke after we finish these cupcakes. It’s shedding season, you know.”

She frowned, seemingly upset to let him down.

“It’s okay baby,” he smiled, hugging her, “Come on. We’ve got cupcakes to decorate.”

•

They were halfway through with the cupcakes when Spencer’s phone rang.

“Hey, Luke. What’s up?”

“Hey Reid, you busy?”

“Not really, just frosting Y/N’s cupcakes.”

There was a pause.

“Is that some sort of euphemism for sex? Cause I can call back later.”

Spencer couldn’t help it, he barked out a laugh.

“No, I mean we’re just decorating some cupcakes.”

Y/N gave him a quizzical look and he gave her a lopsided grin, mentally reminding himself to share that with her later. She’d think it’s hilarious.

“Oh good cause we need your genius insight, Reid,” Luke said.

“Sure, one sec.”

He lowered the phone to his shoulder.

“The team needs me to consult on a current case, I’m sorry, do you mind?”

“Go,” she shooed him, “I’ve got this. Don’t worry.”

“You’re the best, Y/N,” he murmured, pecking her lips.

“Don’t I know it?” she smirked, turning back to the sugary explosion on the counter as he walked towards his study.

“Okay, what’s up?” Spencer asked, as he settled into the desk chair.

“Alright. So we have three murders in Seattle…”

•

By the time Spencer had finished bouncing around ideas with the team, it was after 1 pm.

Walking into the kitchen, he saw all three kids had woken from their naps and was just finishing up their lunches of grilled cheese—bite sized grilled cheese pieces for Aden and Isla though.

Spencer stole one of Evie’s chips as he passed her.

“Hey! Dat nawt vewy nice!” she frowned.

His lips turned up in a smile as he apologized and kissed her head.

“How’d it go? Were you able to help any?” Y/N asked.

She held up a bite of grilled cheese to Aden’s mouth to get him to eat. He seemed to have more interest in playing with his food than actually eating it though.

“Help wiff what?” Evie asked, ever as curious as a typical toddler was.

“Daddy got a call from your aunties and uncles at the BAU. They needed his help with a case,” Y/N explained.

“And you didn’t let me talk to dem?” she pouted, “I miss auntie JJ and auntie Penewope. Auntie Emawee, Uncle Dave and evwyone else I can’t tink of.”

She had actually sat there and counted off all of the names on each finger, amusing Spencer to no end. He knew he was a bit biased, but she was the cutest.

“You were still napping, baby, I’m sorry,” he said, “Next time I’ll make sure you get to talk to them.”

That seemed to appease her and she went back to eating her lunch.

Oh the joys of being a child with no concerns in the world.

After lunch, Spencer took the kids outside and they were soon joined by Y/N, Hopper and Duke. It was such a beautiful day that they had to take advantage of it.

Duke was set up in a good sized space to run and explore, but with a collapsible fence around him, just to keep him safe and from running away. Y/N was still hesitant to take it away just yet, even though so far he did great at staying near them when outside. He loved it, nibbling on the grass and flopping in it. He clearly was living his best life.

Hopper just about sprinted out the door when Y/N let him out. He, too, loved the backyard. He had about worn paths in the grass because he loved his specific running routine. He barked happily as he sped around.

Evie immediately ran to their playground and started climbing the “rock wall” portion of it. Not surprising to Spencer though; from the moment she could stand she had climbed into and over stuff as a baby, practically always giving him and Y/N heart failure.

“You two want to go down the slide?” he asked, carrying the twins toward the play set.

Aden started fussing, reaching for Y/N.

“Ma ma! Ma ma!”

“I will take that as a no,” Spencer said, handing him over to Y/N.

“He’s been fussy since they woke up. I think he’s cutting another tooth,” she frowned.

“Aww, my poor little man. No wonder he doesn’t want to play.”

Spencer rubbed his back as Aden laid his head on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Growing teeth isn’t fun, is it buddy?”

Y/N smiled, cuddling him close.

“Go on and play with the girls, me and Aden will chill on the patio and cuddle.”

“So do you want to slide, Isla?”

She responded in baby talk, babbling away.

“Is that so? Tell me more.”

She continued to babble as he set her at the top of the slide, one hand on her stomach and the other on her back to keep her safe.

“I’d like to see you get on the slide, Spence!” Y/N called from the patio, laughing.

He shook his head.

“Never again!” he hollered back.

He once tried getting on the slide of this same play set with Evie in his lap, when she was younger. It was a disaster to the point that Y/N about had to call the fire department to get him unstuck...after she spent ten minutes laughing.

He’d learned his lesson from that.

Isla squealed as he slowly slid her down the slide. He picked her up, holding her in the air above him.

“You did it, baby!”

She squealed with laughter, grinning big. When he brought her back down, she held onto him trying to give him a kiss with her mouth wide open.

“Thank you; you’re extremely sweet, Isla,” Spencer cooed.

“Daddy, watch me!”

Spencer looked over and watched as Evie slide down the slide on her belly.

“Careful, Princess.”

“I am! Did you see me?”

“I did,” he said, “I’m impressed.”

She ran over to the swings next. The amount of energy this child had was outstanding. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d had this much energy.

“Push me pwease?”

“Okay, honey.”

He put Isla in the baby swing, which she happened to love and buckled her in, starting to swing her a bit as he pushed Evie.

The peals of laughter that met his ears filled his heart with joy. He watched the wind blowing his little girls’ curls as they both swung, happy as could be.

His eyes panned out over the yard; Hopper still running around, Duke munching on some grass and his wife rocking his little boy on a rocking chair on the patio.

It was moments like this that he treasured the most.

•

They spent nearly all afternoon outside, although the twins and fur children had meandered inside after an hour or so both hot and worn out.

Spencer stayed outside though spending time with Evie. He always tried his hardest to make sure she knew how much he and Y/N loved her.

After the twins were born, life became more hectic and she entered a new permanent part of life where she’d have to share her parents. He made extra efforts in spending some time alone with her, Y/N did too, just so she wouldn’t feel left out or any less important than her younger siblings.

He spent time jumping on the trampoline with her, watching her do tricks. He then pushed her on the swing until his arms hurt, but it was totally worth it to see the glee on her face.

They laid in the grass, listening to birds chirp and looked at clouds. She claimed to see one cloud in the shape of the doughnut and he pointed out one he thought looked like a penguin.

They were both hot and sweaty after staying outdoors for so long, so he turned on the sprinklers and let her run through them. Of course, Hopper ended up joining them, sprinting like he had springs attached to his paws as he jumped through the spraying water.

Spencer couldn’t resist joining in, chasing after Evie. The water felt cool and refreshing on flushed, hot and sweaty skin.

“I’m gonna catch you!” he teasingly called.

She squealed, trying to run faster through the water.

“No you nawt daddy!”

He reached down and picked her up, swinging her around. He wished he could keep his babies this small forever.

By the time they were tired of playing in the sprinklers, their clothes were soaked through.

“Mommy’s gonna kill me for letting you get so soaked,” he chuckled.

“No she nawt. She love you. When a mommy love a daddy dey hug. She just hug you.”

He couldn’t argue with her logic.

“Come on munchkin, I bet mommy is wondering what happened to us.”

He walked behind her as she sprinted into the house. He was surprised to see it was nearly 5 o’clock.

“You two must’ve had fun,” Y/N chuckled, eyeing their clothes.

“That we did. Where’s thing 1 and thing 2?”

She pointed to the pack and play in the corner of the kitchen where the two were happily playing with one another.

“Thought I’d stick them in there so I could keep an eye on them while I started their dinner,” she said.

“Let me go change Evie and get some dry clothes for myself and I can help,” he offered.

“I’ve got it covered. I’m making chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese for them since it will soon be bath and b-e-d time.”

He nodded understandingly. They’d been having trouble getting Evie to bed lately. She always wanted to play when it was time for bed, so they’d gotten a routine down. Dinner, bath, story time and cuddle and then time for lights out. So far, it had been working.

“Do me a favor and turn on the tv please? I promised Evie she could watch cartoons before dinner.”

“Sure thing,” Spencer agreed.

He gave her a side hug on his way past her and maybe a slap on the ass too.

“Spencer!” she shrieked, exasperated.

He just laughed, sending her a wink over his shoulder.

He settled in with Evie on the couch and the twins playing on the floor. He held Aden up, helping him practice walking as Evie watched cartoons.

“There ya go buddy! You guys will get this in no time.”

Spencer sat him back on his bottom and Aden turned around, fussing, trying to climb in his lap. Even in his lap, he started crying.

“Brudder too loud,” Evie frowned.

“I know, honey, I’m sorry. He doesn’t feel good.”

Spencer rubbed his back, rocking him a bit, desperately trying to calm his son. He clung to Spencer’s shirt, crying at the top of his lungs, moving his face back and forth from the inability to get comfortable.

Spencer frowned, standing, bouncing him a bit. Y/N came into the living room a moment later, a small tube in her hand.

“He won’t stop crying, no matter what I’ve tried,” Spencer frowned, hurting for his own miserable child.

“I got some teething gel. Let me see your finger.”

He held his finger out and she squeezed some of the clear gel on his finger. Opening Aden’s mouth just enough, he rubbed it gently on the sensitive gums.

He went to pull his finger back but Aden kept a hold of it, gnawing on it.

“Good luck getting that finger back,” Y/N smirked, “I’ve had that happen way too many times.”

So that’s how he sat until Y/N had finished the kids’ dinner; next to Evie, Aden in his lap and his finger in Aden’s mouth. Luckily, Isla seemed occupied enough and didn’t feel the need to be clingy. It was like they’d switched personalities for the day.

“Evie, go wash your hands for dinner please,” Spencer told her.

She obeyed, heading off to her bathroom. In the last year, she’d really gotten to enjoy washing her hands. She thought of it as making her a big girl, which it did. She had a stool in front of her bathroom counter that she’d stand on, get some soap out of the fish decorated soap dispenser and wash her hands, proud to be able to do this big girl task now.

She came into the kitchen just as he was helping Y/N get the little ones into their high chairs.

“My hands all cwean!” she announced, holding them out as to prove her point.

“Good job, pumpkin,” Y/N said, giving her a kiss as she lifted her to set her on the island stool.

“What for dinna?” she asked, trying to peek at the fixed plates on the counter.

“Your favorite, chicken nuggets and mac and cheese,” Y/N smiled, setting her kid plate in front of her and a fork.

Evie’s eyes lit up and she immediately dug in.

“I snuck some broccoli in it for the twins,” she told Spencer, not worried if Evie heard.

They must have been blessed with an easy first child because Evie was always good with eating her vegetables and she loved when mommy fixed her veggie mac, as she called it. Y/N had tried multiple different vegetables in it from spinach to broccoli and even kale once, with positive results. Spencer was definitely impressed.

But where it was easy with Evie, it had been a bit more challenging with Aden and Isla. Aden was more open to trying new things, but didn’t seem to like as many veggies as Evie had at that age. Isla, on the other hand, flat out refused.

So Y/N had resorted to sneaking some veggies in with their food. Sometimes it was in their macaroni and cheese other times it was mixed in with sauces, easy things they could eat. It had been a struggle, but they seemed to finally start liking the flavor.

The sight of food caused a ruckus with the two as they babbled and shrieked, ready to eat. Y/N sat the small bowls in front of them, along with the cut up chicken nuggets spread on their tray. Hands immediately dug in the nuggets and they tried to feed themselves with their spoons.

The twins eating was always an interesting time. One baby eating was messy enough; times that by two and it was even worse. Thankfully, bath time was after dinner.

Spencer had had his back turned as he fed Duke and Hopper their dinners and when he turned around he swore his two youngest were already covered in mac and cheese.

“Two seconds into dinner and they’re already covered in cheese sauce,” he shook his head, amazed.

“It’s your turn to do baths tonight too, big boy,” she chuckled, patting his chest as she walked by to put something in the dishwasher.

On her way back, he pulled her back to him, hugging her from behind. She didn’t complain though. He loved all the stolen hugs and kisses they shared even during the most chaotic of days.

He tipped her face up to his and kissed her gently, wishing he could convey just how much love and appreciation he felt for her in the simple, soft kiss.

“Ew daddyyy,” Evie whined, covering her eyes, “I twyna eat!”

He pulled away from Y/N and they both laughed, both amused by their toddler’s outburst.

“Listen to her, she sounds like a teenager already,” Spencer said.

“Just wait ten more years when she actually is,” Y/N commented.

“Evie Bear, are you gonna be my little girl forever?” he asked.

She shot him a grin big enough to compete with his own toothy smile.

“Always.”

•

Bath time almost always followed dinner in the Reid household.

Before the twins, it was easy just to bathe Evie and get her ready for bed. Now, it was three times the baths and three times the pajamas.

They tackled it as a team, though. They’d switch off between bath duty and pajama duty. Tonight, Spencer would bathe the kids while Y/N got pajamas ready, fixed the twins’ bedtime bottles and most likely tried to clean the kitchen in between.

He’d left Evie in his and Y/N’s bed to play on her kid iPad—way better than those actual iPads if you asked him—to keep her entertained while he gave Aden and Isla a bath. Their bedtime was obviously a little earlier than Evie’s so they were the logical first bath of the night.

All three of his children were fish. They loved water, so bath time was always a hit.

They both sat in the water, splashing and talking to one another in their own little baby language. They played with their toys: little bath alphabet and numbers, colorful boats, a rubber ducky, even little toy cups.

Spencer washed their hair as they played happily.

Aden baby talked, handing him a cup.

“Is this for me? Did you make me a drink?”

He pretended to drink it, handing the cup back to him.

“That was very good, little man.”

Aden smiled, reaching for another toy, putting it in his mouth to chew on. Spencer took the moment of stillness to carefully rinse the baby shampoo out of his hair. His baby soft curls hung in wet, wavy tendrils, similar to Spencer’s own hair when it was wet.

He repeated the same process with Isla as she was content to play with the boats, pushing them around in the soapy water.

“You two are like little ducks aren’t you? You could stay in here until you’re wrinkled and pruny and still wouldn’t get out,” he said.

They look up at him, serious looks on their faces.

“You wanna know a secret? You may be little ducks but you’re my baby ducks,” he smiled, leaning over to give each one of them kisses.

They were too busy playing to really care, but Spencer didn’t mind. One day, they wouldn’t want kisses all the time like they did now and he would cherish every second he could, of this part of his life.

The typical babbling ensued, including the normal da da’s.

“Da da da da,” one would start, encouraging the other to join in like it was a battle who could say it more.

“Daddy loves his babies,” Spencer smiled.

He finished rinsing the soap off their bodies, giving their faces one last wipe over with the washcloth—much to their dismay—and lifted them from the tub, laying them on the towel by his side.

He wrapped them tight in the towel, keeping them warm and carried them to Y/N to get ready for bed.

Bath time with a toddler was definitely a different experience than bath time with infants.

Evie was a little chatterbox. Something she got from him, undoubtedly. He always enjoyed when he had bath duty, it was special time with his little ducklings.

Evie had a few bath toys that were especially for her since they were a bit too old for the twins at this point. She loved her bath crayons and creating masterpieces on the bathtub walls. She also had a little toy that made bubbles. It was endearing to see her face light up when Spencer made the bubbles appear.

“Daddy, look at dis,” she pointed to her latest drawing.

“I see. What did you draw?”

“Dat Hopper,” she pointed to one blob of red.

“And dat Duke.”

Duke was a blue blob.

“I love it,” he chuckled, “I think they would too.”

“Can we pwactice da afabet?” she asked.

Evie’s bath time recently had become a sort of learning time to practice her letters and numbers. It had started with Spencer writing a letter or two on the side of the tub with her bath crayon and letting her name it. It had become so fun for her she ended up asking to do it more often now.

“Sure, sweetie.”

He took a green crayon and wrote the letter “A” on the wall in front of her.

“Do you know what this letter is?”

“A!”

Next to it, he wrote a “B”.

“B,” Evie said, confidently.

Another letter was written next to it.

“C.”

They did this throughout the whole alphabet, until the wall was covered with letters. She’d only stumbled on a few, but she was getting better all the time. The swell of pride he felt in his chest was never ending as he constantly discovered just how smart his babies were growing up to be.

“Let’s try something a bit different, okay?”

“Otay.”

He took a different color—red this time—and wrote her name. Using the crayon as a pointer, he pointed to the “E”.

“Do you know which letter this is?”

“Dats E!”

“That’s right. What about this one?” he asked, moving the crayon to the next letter.

“Um,” she paused, taking a little longer on this one, “V.”

“Correct,” he smiled, “And this next one?”

“I.”

“And then we have this final one. I’m sure you know this by now,” he grinned.

“Dat E again!”

“Yes, that’s right! Do you know what that spells?”

“No,” she shook her head.

He didn’t expect her to, but it was all part of his little lesson.

“That is your name. E-v-i-e. Evie,” he smiled, “You just spelled your name.”

She smiled brightly, then looked like she was thinking about something.

“Daddy? Why I named Evie?”

“Well,” he said, returning to rinsing her long hair, “Your mommy wanted to name you Evangeline at first.”

Evie scrunched her nose up at that, making him snicker. She really did look just like him when she did that.

“I know, I didn’t like that name much either,” Spencer said, “But she really wanted to name her first daughter that because it was her grandmother’s name and she was really close to her before she passed away. I thought that was a sweet gesture to honor her in that way, so I tried to compromise with her.”

“What’s compwomise?” she asked.

“It’s where two people both get what they want by deciding on something that they both like. For example like your name. Mommy liked Evangeline and I didn’t. A common nickname for it is Evie and we both liked that name so we settled on that. We both chose a name we loved for you and mommy got to honor her grandma that way.”

“Oh,” she nodded, seemingly deep in thought, processing what he had just said, “I like Evie betta anyway.”

“So do I, my little Evie bear. Now come on, let’s get you out of this bath before mommy thinks you were washed down the drain.”

•

It was probably half an hour after their bedtime and all three kids were still awake, in their jammies on mommy and daddy’s bed.

Spencer figured he’d let them stay up a little later so Y/N could finish her housework. Bedtime was also another team effort, at least when it came to Aden and Isla. It was hard to hold two babies with bottles—even though they could now hold their own bottles— and a book at the same time, even for the most experienced parents. So one of them would hold one twin, the other would have the other and read them both a bedtime story. It was a system that had been working well for them, so they stuck to it.

Also, he kinda hoped the later bedtime would slip by Y/N’s attention unnoticed. No such luck, though.

Needless to say though, she was a bit exasperated to find them still up almost thirty minutes later than normal.

“Spencer Reid, I swear to God if my children don’t go to sleep, I won’t have sex with you until they move out of the house.”

Thankfully, Evie seemed too preoccupied with her iPad to notice Y/N’s statement. All they needed was her repeating that.

“Sorry, babe. I thought I’d let you catch up on your housework before we tucked them in.”

“You should’ve come get me, I didn’t even know it had gotten so late,” she said apologetically, “Besides they need their sleep so their brains can grow to be as big as yours.”

“Actually, the brain doesn’t grow. It stays the same size from the moment you’re born. As you learn, your brain makes new neuron connections.”

She chuckled, walking over to pick up Isla off the bed.

“You know what I meant, brainiac,” she teased, “I got their bottles in the nursery so if you can grab Aden and a book, we can get them to bed.”

He nodded, picking up Aden.

“You stay there and play on your iPad, okay baby girl?” Y/N said, “We’ll be back to tuck you in after we get the babies down.”

“Otay mommy.”

Spencer got situated in one of the two rocking chairs in the nursery, Y/N settling in beside him. Bottles were in the twins’ mouths and the twins were each nestled in a set of arms as Spencer opened the book of the night, Bedtime For Baby Star.

He was familiar with this story. His best friend JJ had given them a copy when he and Y/N first got pregnant with Evie. It was a story she’d read many times to her sons Michael and Henry. He and Y/N had read it many times to Evie—and still did—and now they read it to their twins. It was as if this adorable little story had been passed down through many bedtimes of many different kids.

“Once there was a baby star,” Spencer began, gently rocking in the chair.

“He lived up near the sun. And every night at bedtime, that baby star wanted to have some fun. He would shine and shine and fall and shoot and twinkle, oh, so bright.”

Isla cooed as she ate, eyes locked on Spencer and his voice. Aden looked around, but would turn his sight back to Spencer every little bit to make sure he was still there.

“And he said “Mommy, I’ll run away if you make me say good night.”,” Spencer read.

Isla’s feet shuffled back and forth against Y/N’s lap as she ate. Usually, they didn’t fall asleep during a nighttime story, but Spencer loved the routine of it and being able to have some bonding time, so it soon became a nightly thing for him and Y/N.

Aden pulled back from his bottle, taking a break from eating and looking around the room. Spencer glanced down to check on him before continuing reading, seeing Aden put the bottle back in his mouth on his own.

“And then his mommy kissed him on his sparkly nose and said, “No matter where you go, no matter where you are, no matter how big you grow, and even if you stray far, I’ll love you forever, ‘cause you’ll always be my baby star.” The end.”

Spencer closed the book quietly, setting it aside and dimming the lights. This, too, they had found worked best when getting the babies to sleep. They usually sat and rocked them in the dimmed nursery as they finished their bottles and fell asleep.

Looking down at Aden, he could tell that the little guy wasn’t far off from sleep.

As they both sat and rocked the babes quietly, he reached over with his spare hand to the rocking chair Y/N was in. He took her hand and held it in his the entire time until their two youngest were sound asleep.

•

“Why don’t you go order us some dinner and I’ll get Evie to sleep,” Spencer suggested after they’d tiptoed out of the nursery.

“It’s been a long day and I know you probably don’t feel like cooking a separate dinner.”

“Okay, I’ll go order us a pizza. The usual?” she asked.

“Pepperoni, yes please,” he grinned, kissing her cheek.

“Tell her night and an “I love you” from me,” she called as she headed down the stairs.

Evie was exactly where they’d left her earlier. She was still sitting against their pillows, playing her game.

“Come on rugrat,” he grinned, picking her up off the bed, “Let’s go choose a story to read.”

He carried her down the hall towards her room, setting her down once they were inside. He took her toy iPad and set it aside with her other toys as she kneeled in front of her book corner, deciding on a book.

“Find anything yet, Eves?”

“Yesh,” she pulled one out, walking back to her bed and climbing onto it then holding out the book for him to see.

“Five Little Bunnies?” he asked, taking it when she nodded.

“No,” she took it back, “I read to you daddy.”

He smiled, pulling her into his lap.

“You gonna read to me tonight then?”

“Yesh,” she nodded, her drying, loose curls shaking with her movement.

She opened the book to the first page.

“Once upon time dere five widdle bunnies.”

She turned the page and continued.

“Da fiwst widdle bunny liked to hop and play outside.”

Spencer’s brows raised, surprised that she wasn’t actually making something up, but quoting the book. He knew she wasn’t actually reading, but it still pleased him enough to know that she’d memorized the book to be able to read it to him. He held her close, resting his chin on her head as she continued “reading” to him.

“Da fifth widdle bunny didn’t want to be weft out of all da fun and hopped off to join all his fwends. De end.”

She closed the book, craning her neck to see Spencer.

“You nawt asleep are you daddy?”

“No baby,” he chuckled, picking her up and setting her against her pillows.

“Did you remember the entire story so you could read it to me?” he asked.

She slid under the covers and he pulled them up over her as she nodded excitedly.

“Did you wike it?”

The hopeful excitement in her eyes just about melted his heart. He had loved kids for as long as he could remember, but there was nothing sweeter than your own children.

“I loved it.”

He handed her the stuffed animal koala—named Pookie—that she always slept with and she cuddled him in her arms. Spencer smoothed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead, making sure the covers were high enough so she wouldn’t get too chilly.

“Next time though, it’s my turn to read to you,” he laughed.

“Otay,” she smiled.

“Mommy says goodnight and she loves you,” Spencer said, turning on her nightlight for her, “Goodnight Evie, I love you.”

“I love you too, daddy.”

As Spencer turned off the lights, the last thing he saw was Evie turn on her side and close her eyes, heading quickly into a peaceful slumber.

•

“I’ve never been so happy to see food. Or the couch,” Spencer said, flopping onto the couch, a slice of pepperoni pizza in his hand.

Hopper was curled up on the couch, his head partially laying on Spencer’s leg, fast asleep. Duke loafed next to Y/N’s legs, relaxing, himself. They acted so tired, they made it seem like they had been the ones doing the parenting all day.

“Duke I hardly recognize you after your grooming,” Spencer chuckled, reaching over her lap to run his free hand over the soft fur.

“I swear he lost half a pound in fur alone,” Y/N commented.

It was just past 8 pm and the two of them finally were able to sit down to rest and eat their dinner.

“I tried one of your cupcakes,” Y/N said after finishing her final piece of pizza, “They’re great.”

“Oh really? When did you do that?”

“Around lunch. It technically was my lunch.”

“Our rugrats sure keep us on the move, don’t they?” Spencer grinned.

“And to think you want more,” Y/N half groaned.

“I do,” he said seriously, “But not right now. One day. When they’re a little older.”

“Good because right now I’m too tired to even think about sex.”

“You and me both,” Spencer sighed, wrapping his arm around her.

“How do parents manage to do this and have a sex life?” she mumbled causing him to snort.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure they take it one day at a time. Besides, I have plenty of time to show you just how much I love and appreciate you in that way, when we aren’t so tired.”

There was obviously more to their marriage than just the sexual part of it. Just making time for each other like this, even when it was at the end of the day, was more than enough. They were a team. They’d do marriage, parenthood and life together. It was all he needed right now.

Some day, they would find a balance. But right now, life was still hectic and intimacy wasn’t always guaranteed. One great thing though was that intimacy came in all forms.

This time right now, was an example. It was a private, cozy and relaxing atmosphere for just the two of them to spend some time together.

“I’ll be there,” she smiled, laying her head against his chest.

“So will I.”

Spencer was tired, but he was also extremely happy,

They turned on the tv for a little while, not paying much attention to the show that was on since they both could hardly keep their eyes open. They dozed like that for a little while, arms wrapped around one another.

They knew one twin or the other would likely wake up at least a time or two during the night, but right now even catching a few winks was better than none.

They’d make it to bed eventually, where they’d fall into a deep sleep next to one another, preparing for a new day when they’d do this all over again.

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