#trying my damn hardest to draw a woman
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Always Darling | 3 | J.Seresin
B E F O R E T H E S T O R M
Summary: Training for the Uranium Mission begins and while they try their hardest to keep everything under wraps. Not all secrets are meant to be kept.
Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC!Willow "Vixen" Seresin, brief mentions of Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x OC Daughter!Willow "Vixen" Seresin and Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC God Sister!Willow "Vixen" Seresin
Warnings: none? Cute Seresin family moments, Ellorie being the best kid every, funeral
Note: you all are the absolute best! 😍😍 ENJOY!
Apr 2024 note: I did end up updating this into an OC as I dont write my series as a reader insert anymore.
Word count: 8.8k words (I'M SORRY! MY BRAIN WOULDN'T STOP!)
Masterlist | Always Darling Masterlist
“So where is my goddaughter?” Phoenix questions as Willow and her sit down in the hanger.
“She’s with her grandparents.” Willow answers, standing next to the table by Phoenix.
“Which ones?! I miss the little nugget!” Phoenix practically whines.
“Well that little nugget is now 7 and a pain in our ass.” Jake groans, plopping down at the table diagonally from Phoenix.
“She is not! She’s just upset that all of her classmates get to see both of their parents everyday. Some days it's one, others it's grandma putting her to bed.” Willow slaps his shoulder, sitting in the seat beside him. “She’s with Sarah and Ice.”
“Life of a double pilot child. Must suck ass.” One after another, the other pilots and WSOs file into the Hanger, taking their seats throughout the room. Rooster is one of the last to enter with Fanboy and Payback. Willow glares at him as he sits behind her and Jake, Bradley returns to glare as Jake turns Willow’s chair to face forward.
“Attention on deck!”
All of the pilots rise, standing at attention. Admiral Bates stops at the front of the room. "Good morning. Welcome to your special training detachment. Be seated. I'm Admiral Bates, NAWDC commander. You're all Top Gun graduates. The elite. The best of the best." Everyone looks around at each other, all noting Hangman's smug look. "That was yesterday. The enemy's new fifth generation fighter has leveled the playing field. Details are few, but you can be sure we no longer possess the technological advantage. Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box."
Hangman looks at Willow and Phoenix, winking at them. Both girls scoff and role their eyes. Phoenix uses her middle finger to rub her temple, effectively flipping off Jake without drawing attention to herself.
"Half of you will make the cut. One of you will be named mission leader." Warlock says. "The other half will remain in reserve." Bates explains. "Your instructor is a Top Gun graduate with real-world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master. His exploits are legendary. And he's considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he will teach you may very well mean the difference between life and death."
Everyone glances behind them and Willow immediately sinks into her seat. “Fuck.” She mutters under her breath. Jake reaches over to rest a hand on her thigh, providing all the comfort she needed from him.
"I give you Captain Pete Mitchell. Callsign, Maverick."
Pete nods to Admiral Bates before turning to the pilots. "Good morning." Everyone gives him a tight lipped smile, mostly Jake and Phoenix. Willow holds nothing but resentment in her glare and unbeknownst to her, so does Bradley. Pete holds up the F-18 flight book. "The F-18 NATOPS. It contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft. I'm assuming you know the book inside and out."
"Damn straight." Hangman shouts, a couple other pilots agreeing.
"Damn right."
"You got it."
“Obviously,” Willow mumbles, as Pete drops the booklet into the garbage can at his feet. He immediately catches the attention of everyone in the room who didn’t know of him. Willow and Bradley scoff almost simultaneously at the action.
"So does your enemy. But what the enemy doesn't know is your limits. I intend to find them, test them, push beyond. Today we'll start with what you only think you know. You show me what you're made of." Maverick dismisses the pilot to get into their flight suits.
As they all walk onto the tarmac, Pete calls out to Bradley. "Rooster." Bradley doesn't turn around. "Bradley." Still nothing. "Lieutenant Bradshaw." Bradley turns around and Willow glances over from her jet, rolling her eyes at their interaction.
“Typical.” She scoffs, finishing her final round of preflight checks. It wasn’t long before she could hear her name being called.
“Lieutenant Commander Mitchell.” She turns, glaring at him. “Look, I just wanted to say that I think we should put everything behind us. For the sake of this mission.”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Willow scoffs, turning away from him.
“Look Willow, I know what I did was messed up, but if you just–”
“What? Give you a chance to explain? I did. Every single time I called you over a school break, or when I had something important to me come up. You were never there. That’s all the explanation I need.” She seeths. “Am I dismissed, Captain?”
“Yea.” Pete sighs, making his way to his own jet.
Fanboy, Payback, and Rooster are the first in the air. In the lounge, Jake and Willow sit together on one couch with Phoenix and Coyote across from them. The other aviators fill the room, either by the radio, which Bob currently occupies, or messing with the foosball table.
"Good morning aviators. This is your captain speaking." Maverick calls out over comms. "Welcome to basic fighting maneuvers. As briefed, today's exercise is dogfighting. Guns only, no missiles. We do not go below the hard deck of 5,000 feet. Working as a team, you shoot me down, or else."
"Or else what, sir?" Payback questions.
"Or else I shoot back. If I shoot either one of you down, you both lose."
“This guy needs an ego check.” Hangman mutters.
“Oh we can do that.” Willow leans forward high fiving Phoenix.
"What say we put some skin in the game?" Payback suggests.
"What do you have in mind?" Maverick asks.
"Whoever gets shot first does 200 pushups?"
“Guys.” Rooster’s voice comes through the speaker.
"That's a lot of push ups."
"They don't call it exercise for nothing, sir." Fanboy calls.
"You got yourself a deal, gentlemen. Let's turn and burn."
“So, any new pictures of my favorite niece?” Coyote asks, leaning forward a bit.
“There’s always new pictures.” Willow laughs, pulling her phone out. “Sarah sent me these this morning.” She passes it over and both Coyote and Phoenix look. “First day of school pics. Not like we don’t have a million.”
“Also, we don’t mention her, at all.” Jake whispers to their friends.
“They still don’t know?!” Phoenix whisper-shouts.
“Still don’t talk to them.” Willow answers.
“Vixen. Phoenix, Bob. You’re up next.” Hondo shouts into the room.
“Go get ‘em darlin!” Willow turns and blows a kiss at Jake who catches it.
“I can’t believe you two have been together for 15 years now.” Coyote sighs, moving to sit next to Jake. “Still not ready for a wedding?”
“Okay, Javy. I’m telling you this because you are my best friend but you can’t tell anyone.”
“Scouts honor.” Jake pulls his dog tags out from his flight suit to reveal the wedding band sitting between his dog tags. “Holy shit dude! When did this happen?”
“A year after Elle was born. It's all official with the Navy, but as far as anyone is concerned, we're still dating. Except for those who have to know.”
"See him anywhere?" Willow calls out after 5 minutes of being in the air.
“Nothing on the radar.” Bob calls out.
“You think it's gonna work?” Phoenix questions.
“He’s too cocky for it to not work.” Willow answers. They turn slightly to the right and Willow looks up just in time to see another jet heading their way. “3 o'clock, we got incoming.” Willow calls out.
“Breaking left.” Phoenix calls, turning to break off from Willow.
“Come and get me, old man.” Willow shouts, taking off to distract him. With every twist turn and loop, she narrowly avoids Maverick’s lock.
“You’re good, Vixen. I’ll give you that. But you made one mistake.” Maverick calls.
“And what was that?” Willow smirks. She already knows what he’s about to say.
“You lost your wingman.” Suddenly the lock tone rings through Maverick’s cockpit.
“What was that again?” Phoenix asks, right behind Mav with a lock on him.
“I think that’s a kill, sir.” Bob speaks up.
“Nice try, old man.” Willow and Phoenix return to the ground with Maverick not far behind. Once on the ground, Pete goes to do his push-ups while Willow, Phoenix, and Bob make their way to the lounge.
“That’s my girl!” Jake shouts, immediately lifting Willow as she walks inside.
“Okay okay, Jake put me down.” She laughs as he immediately does so.
“You, darlin, are one hell of a badass.” Jake smirks, kissing her.
“Keep it in your pants, Lieutenant Seresin.” Willow giggles as he moves to her neck.
“I’d rather be in yours, Lieutenant Commander Seresin.” He whispers in her ear.
“Hangman, Phoenix, Bob. You’re after Harvard, Yale, and Fritz.”
Jake groans as he pulls from Willow. “I can’t wait to get you home.”
“Too bad, hotshot. We have dinner at the Kazansky’s tonight so we can pick up Elle.” Willow pushes Jake back and walks away.
“Damn tease.” Jake mutters, smirking as he watches her walk away. Willow intentionally swinging her hips more than normal. “Shit.”
Willow sat listening to their flight, sighing as her husband’s cockiness showed through. She knew Phoenix would have a few choice words about him when they landed. And sure enough, she was right.
“I don't understand how you like that man.” Phoenix groans walking into the locker room, Willow not far behind.
“He’s quite charming.” Willow laughs.
“It’s Hangman, Vix!”
“It’s the father of my child, Phoenix! And my husband.” Willow says softly.
“NO!” Willow shows Phoenix her rings, hanging from her dog tags. “When?!”
“Year after Elle was born. We got tired of waiting but always decided to keep it under wraps.”
“I understand why you deal with him now.” Willow laughs at her best friend. “I’m still pissed at him.”
“I expect nothing less.”
“Hey, what the hell is up with Maverick and Rooster?” Hangman questions, running into Willow on his way in from his flight with Rooster.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, they both almost took a nosedive into a mountain because there is something going on between them.” Hangman tells her, Phoenix runs towards the tarmac.
“I’ll see you outside. Shower.” She kisses Jake before following Phoenix.
"Breaking the hard deck, insubordination. Are you trying to get kicked out?" She hears Phoenix's question, walking up behind her.
"Don't worry about it." Bradley mutters.
"Look, I'm going on this mission. But if you get kicked, you leave us flying with Hangman. Talk to me. What the hell was that?" Phoenix asks, squatting down next to him.
"He pulled my papers."
"What? Who?"
"Maverick. He pulled my application to the Naval Academy. Set me back four years." Bradley answers.
“Glad you finally got some tough love.” Willow scoffs.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bradley retorts, turning to see Willow behind him.
“My whole life! Bradley this, Bradley that. At least you got some tough shit from him too.”
“I think I had enough tough shit from your father with how my dad died.”
“Bullshit, you don’t blame him for that. You were always the favorite because of that.” Willow groans. “Always playing the orphan card, even before Aunt Carole died.”
“You’re one to talk. At least you still had someone. You just chose not to reach out for years.”
“Cause he chose you, and sent me away because I was upset! He will always choose you.” Willow sighs. “It's just how he is with you.” Willow sighs, walking past them to the parking lot.
“Hey! How was it today?” Sarah asks, opening the door for Jake and Willow.
“Where’s dad?” Willow questions and Sarah can read the frustration on her face.
“He’s in his office.”
“Mama! Daddy!”
“Hi baby girl.” Every ill feeling on Willow’s mind immediately disappeared at the sight of her daughter running towards her. “Did you have fun with Grandma and Papa today?” Willow asks, kneeling to catch her.
“Yea! We went to the park and then I got a new toy and then Papa got us ice cream!” Elle rambles on about her day as Jake kneels down next to them.
“Did he now? What if Daddy wanted to take you to ice cream after dinner?”
“It's okay Daddy! We can always go again.” Elle smiles, moving into her father’s arms as he lifts her up.
“I don’t know. Two ice cream trips in one day? That's a lot.”
“Please Daddy.” The puppy dog eyes. Jake was always a sucker to the puppy dog eyes, especially to his daughter. His nieces, Maddy and Grace, had taught Elle how to do it and Jake was a goner when his 11 year old nieces and 3 year old daughter brought them out on Christmas eve in 2016, all three getting early christmas presents which Nancy and Willow were not happy about.
“Oh all right.” Jake sighs before tickling Elle.
“No! Daddy put me down!” She slides from Jake's grip and runs back outside. Willow laughs as Jake follows her.
“He’s so good with her.” Sarah smiles.
“He’s an amazing father.” Willow smiles softly, “How’d she do at school today?”
“You know how first day jitters go. But she was brave and had a fun day. Her teacher said she was very helpful, and talkative.”
“She is her father’s daughter.” Willow smiles, seeing Jake catch Elle who immediately sticks her arms out like wings on a plane and Jake flys her around the backyard. “I’m gonna go have a chat with dad.” Willow smiles softly.
“Don’t be long, dinner will be ready in a few.”
Willow nods, walking towards the hallway leading to Tom Kazansky’s office. Knocking, she slowly enters and calls out. “Hey old man.” Tom turns around, smiling, waving her inside. “How are you feeling?”
You know exactly how I’m feeling.
He wasn’t wrong. She was one of the first people Sarah and Ice had called when they found out his cancer had come back. She herself had cried for hours after the call. “I know but I’m still asking.”
I’m fine. Ice begrudgingly writes.
“Did you know?” Willow questions. “About Maverick and Rooster being here?” Ice nods. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Would you have shown up if you had known?
“Obviously not. You know how they are.”
That’s why I didn’t say anything.
“Dad–”
“Do it for me.”
Willow sighs. “You’re not supposed to be talking.” Willow retorts
“I don’t have long.” Ice struggles to say.
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true, little bird. You need this. They need you.”
“He’s not going to pick me, he’s going to choose Bradley like he always does.” Willow sighs.
Ice reaches up to cup Willow’s face, keeping her gaze on him.
“Prove him wrong.”
“How do you always have a response?”
“Old age.” Ice chuckles. “Willow, I have always seen you like a daughter.”
“No, we're not talking like you’re dying.”
“Willow–”
“No. I can’t do that.”
“Remember when you first called me dad?”
“Yea, It was when I told you I was pregnant.” Willow chuckles.
“No, it was when you were begging for me to find Jake.”
“Right. Still that same day.” Willow chuckles softly.
“I have never been happier than the day my children were born. But the day you called me dad? It topped every moment in my life.” Ice smiled softly. “You are an amazing pilot and an even better daughter. I’m so happy to have been a part of your life and I am so proud of you.”
“No. Dad… you’re going to be okay. Please don’t leave me. I still need you.” Willow cries, falling into Ice’s hold. He says nothing but holds her close, stroking her hair as she cries. “I love you, dad.”
“I love you too.”
“Alright pumpkin, time for bed.” Jake carried Elle through the apartment to the small room setup for her.
“Where’s Mama?”
“Mama isn’t feeling well so it's just daddy for bedtime. Is that okay?” Jake sets the little girl down on her bed.
“Can you read me a story?”
“What’ll it be tonight? Cinderella? Rapunzel?” Jake asks, moving over to the stack of books on top of the dresser.
“Can you tell me about when you and Mama met?”
Jake chuckles. “You know I ruined Mama’s favorite hoodie? Ran right into her and my drink exploded onto her and that stain never came out.”
“Did you apologize?” Elle questions.
“About a million times. Your Mama is so beautiful that the minute I saw her I knew I wanted to marry her. But I was so nervous that she’d never talk to me again.” Jake sits on the edge of her bed.
“But Mama loves you.” Elle says, climbing into Jake’s lap.
“Not as much as she loves you. Mama is the most loving and caring person I ever met. And I will spend every day earning that love.”
“I love you Daddy.”
“I love you too, pumpkin.” Jake kisses her head, laying her back onto the bed. “Sleep tight, you have school tomorrow.”
“Good night.”
Tucking her in, Jake shuts the lights out and closes her bedroom door. “Little miss is asleep, we officially have a later start time. I think it's time for a little us time.” Jake says, walking over to the bed only to find Willow fast asleep, the streaks from her tears freshly dried on her cheeks. Jake smiles softly, pressing a kiss to her temple before crawling into bed beside her. Willow shifts as Jake pulls her back into his chest, his arm wrapped around her torso. “Good night darlin.”
“Time is your greatest enemy.” Maverick says from his position at the front of the room. "Phase one of the mission will be a low level attack with two teams." The aviator’s eyes follow the pattern on the screen, watching the swerving flight pattern. "You'll fly along this narrow canyon to your target. Radar guided surface to air missiles defend the sky area. These SAMs are lethal, but they were designed to protect the skies above, not the canyon below."
“That's because the enemy knows no one is insane enough to attempt to fly through it.” Rooster replies. He knows better. He knows there are at least 2 people in the room that are that insane and they’re related.
"That's exactly what I'm going to train you to do.”
Willow’s eyes widened, looking over to Jake. They knew the dangers of their job and they signed up anyway. Jake looked at her and knew exactly what was going through her mind.
"Today, your altitude will be 100 feet, maximum. If you exceed this altitude, radar will spot you and you're dead. Your air speed will be 660 knots, minimum. Time to target is two and a half minutes." Willow and Phoenix lock eyes. "The time is two and half minutes because fifth generation fighters wait at an enemy air base nearby. In a head to head with these planes in your F-18s, you're dead. That's why you need to get in, hit your target, and be gone before these planes have a chance of catching you. This makes time your greatest enemy." The pilots are silent, the mission being completely different than they thought. "Today, we'll go easy on you. Max ceiling will be 300 feet, time to target will be three minutes. Suit up."
“Hey Phoenix!” Willow calls, running onto the Tarmac.
“What's up Vix?”
“Would you be able to pick Elle up from school during our lunch? She’s out at noon and Ice has another treatment today.”
“Absolutely! Am I bringing her on base or…?”
“Yea. Jake and I have a meeting with Cyclone to set up daycare for her so we’ll meet you in the parking lot when it's set up.”
“Gotcha. Yea it's not a problem. But I’m gonna spoil the shit outta her.” Phoenix laughs, leading Willow out to the jets.
Willow is first in the air with Fanboy and Payback.
“One minute and 30 seconds to target, we’re 10 seconds behind Vixen.” Fanboy calls out.
“Alright, increasing speed to 490 knots.” Willow calls, increasing her speed. “Come on, come on.” Willow follows the curves almost perfectly.
“30 seconds to target, 2 seconds behind.”
“Increasing to 500 knots.” As her speed increases she miscalculates a turn and suddenly flies off course and above their max altitude. She punches the side of her canopy. “Fuck.” She failed.
“Why did you fail?” Pete asks when they return to the classroom.
“I miss calculated a turn after increasing my speed because we were behind.” Willow answers.
“No, why is she dead?” Pete asks, looking at Fanboy and Payback.
“We didn’t warn her about the sharp turns ahead when requesting an increase of speed.” Fanboy answers.
“What excuse do you think her family will take at the funeral?” Pete asks. “What are you gonna say when you have to look me dead in the face and tell me my daughter is dead?”
Fanboy and Payback’s eyes drop, mutters are heard about Willow being Pete’s daughter. Choosing to ignore them, she stops Pete.
“Maverick.” Willow calls out but Pete’s glare remains firm. “Captain Mitchell!” Pete looks at her. “That's enough.” She says. Pete finally moves on to Rooster’s group.
“Rooster, why are you dead?" He asks but Rooster doesn’t look up from the table.
"Sir with all due respect, he was the only one to make it to the target." Phoenix jumps in, defending Rooster.
"A minute late. He gave the enemy aircraft time to shoot him down. He is dead." Maverick starts but Rooster speaks up.
“You don’t know that.” Rooster retorts
“You’re not flying fast enough. You don't have a second to waste.” Hangman groans.
“We made it to the target.” Rooster stands firm.
“And superior enemy aircraft intercepted you on your way out.”
"Then it's a dog fight," He says.
"Against 5th generation fighters?" Maverick questions, heating up.
“We still have a chance.”
“In an F-18?”
"It's not the plane, sir, it's the pilot." Rooster defends.
"Exactly!" Maverick shouts. Willow has to withhold her laughter. She had never heard Pete raise his voice to Bradley so she was thoroughly enjoying this.
"There is more than one way to fly this mission." Rooster retorts.
"You really don't get it," Hangman says. "On this mission, a man flies like Maverick here or a man doesn't come back. No offense intended.” Hangman says to Phoenix. Willow elbows his side and Phoenix goes to say something but Bob pipes up.
“And yet somehow you always manage.”
“Look, I don’t mean to criticize. You’re conservative, that's all.”
“Lieutenant.” Pete tries to interrupt but Jake continues
“We’re going into combat, son, on a level no living pilot’s ever seen. Not even him.” Hangman directs to Maverick at the last sentence before turning back to Rooster. “That’s no time to be thinking about the past.” Hangman smirks, looking over at Rooster.
"What's that support to mean?" Rooster asks, tearing his glare away from Maverick.
“Rooster.” Pete warns.
“Jake.” Willow warns her husband.
"I can't be the only one that knew Maverick flew with his old man.” Hangman answers.
“That's enough.” Pete interrupts but Jake continues.
“Or that Maverick was flying when his old man—”
“Lieutenant, that's enough.”
“Jake, quit it.”
Hangman doesn’t finish the sentence before Rooster is shoving him out of his chair.
"You son of a bitch." Rooster growls. Everyone jumps up to stop them from attacking each other. Willow is standing beside Jake, a tight grip on his arm.
“Hey, I’m cool. I’m cool.” Jake shakes off the other aviators but Willow’s grip stays firm.
Rooster tries to jump at him again but Bob, Phoenix, and Pete hold a tight grip on him. “That’s enough.” Pete repeats.
“He’s not cut out for this mission. You know it.” Hangman grins as Willow drags him out of the room. “You know I’m right.”
“You’re all dismissed,” is the last thing the couple hears before they are away from everyone.
“What the fuck was that?” Willow sneers.
“What?”
“Why the hell are you airing out dirty laundry? Let alone at work?” Willow questions
“You know I’m right, Willow. He’s not ready. He holds too many grudges.”
“So then I’m not ready either, right? I hold so many grudges against them both. Am I not ready for this mission too?”
“Willow. There's a difference between you and Rooster. You don't let your grudges affect your flying.” Jake says softly. “You are always my top choice for any mission.”
“You’re an ass, Jake Seresin.” Willow chuckles.
“You love me Willow Seresin.” Willow smiles, pulling Jake into a hug.
“I absolutely do. I’m still mad at you.”
“Mama! Look what Auntie Nat got me!” Elle comes running from Phoenix’s car when she sees her mom.
“Look at that. Is that an F-18?” Willow questions, admiring the joy in her daughter’s eyes.
“Just like what you and Daddy and Auntie Nat and Uncle Yote fly!” Phoenix laughs walking up to meet them
“That's right, baby girl.”
“I wanna fly like you! I wanna be cool like you and Daddy.”
“I hope you always think you’re dad and I are cool.” Willow hugs her daughter before grabbing her hand. “Do you wanna see an actual F-18?” Elle nods quickly, jumping up and down as Willow leads the way.
“Are you sure that's a good idea? What if Mav or Rooster are around?”
“It's been 2 hours since we were dismissed, I doubt it.”
“Let's go Mama!” Elle starts pulling on Willow, her giggles echoing through the hallways.
“Ellorie! Stay with us please!” Willow shouts as the little girl takes off running.
“Oh, hey there little one.” Willow catches a glimpse of who Elle had just bumped into and groans.
“Fantastic.” She mumbles under her breath. “Ellorie! I told you not to run off like that.”
“Sorry Mav. She’s a little ball of energy today.” Phoenix says.
“Let's go, Daddy’s waiting for us.” Willow leads Elle around Mav and out the door. “Look over there.” Willow points and Elle gets excited.
“Daddy!”
“Hey, pumpkin! How was school?” Jake asks, lifting her up.
“Fun! We got to draw pictures of our family today!”
“That's so fun! Did you have fun with Auntie Nat?” Jake questions walking towards the jets with Nat. Willow stays behind because she cant feel Mav behind her.
“You have a daughter?”
“Yea. You would know if you didn’t abandon me.” Willow scoffs.
“Willow please. You’re really gonna keep that little girl away from her grandfather?”
“She has grandfathers, Mav. And fortunately for her, neither of them would ever dream of abandoning her the way you did me.” Willow retorts.
“I’m sorry Willow. I don’t know what else you want me to say.” Pete apologizes.
“I want you to stay away from me and my family. I think you’ve done enough damage.” Willow says before walking away, interacting with her daughter who asks a million questions about the jets.
“Ellie bellie!”
“Uncle Yote!”
Maverick watches how Jake and Willow interact, especially with each other and their daughter. As much as he thinks they are exactly what's needed for the mission, he can’t orphan his granddaughter. Or send his daughter to her possible death. If he sends both of them, it’ll be another generation resenting him. If he sends Jake, Willow will never forgive him if he doesn’t come back. And if he send Willow, well, he’s pretty sure Jake will murder him for sending the mother of his child to her death. But he still doesn’t think Rooster is ready. He’s at an impasse and doesn’t know what to do.
“School called. Campus is shut down due to a power outage.” Jake says, walking into the kitchen early Monday morning.
“Dammit. Mav is having us meet at the beach and there’s no one to watch Elle. Daycare is shut down for the week because all the workers caught the flu and Ice has appointments all day.”
“What about Penny?”
“She’s got the bar to run.”
“Hard Deck doesn’t open until 5, I’m gonna call Penny.”
Willow sighs. Working full time and having a 7 year old was not an easy feat. She knew that all too well now but balancing this life and keeping it away from her work life is becoming more difficult day by day.
“Penny said she’d be happy to watch her.”
“You okay Mama?” Elle asks, mouth full of her breakfast.
“I’m okay. Just a little stressed out.” Willow ruffles Elle’s hair as she walks by. “Finish eating.”
“Dress comfy! No uniforms!” Jake shouts, cleaning up the kitchen before he takes Elle to get ready. It's not long before they’re loaded up in Jake’s truck.
“Alright, Elle. You need to behave for Ms Penny, okay?”
“You’re not gonna play with me?” Elle pouts and Jake quickly drops to her level.
“Mama and Daddy have some work stuff we gotta do first but we promise, as soon as we're done, it's gonna be a Seresin family beach day okay?”
“Okay Daddy.” Jake and Willow packed up everything and got Ellorie into the car before heading straight to the Hard Deck.
“Hey! Why’s Elle here?” Phoenix questions, seeing the trio walk up.
“School canceled, daycare closed, and Ice and Sarah are busy. Penny said she’ll watch her while we do whatever and then we promise her a beach day after.” Willow explains.
“Auntie Nat! Are you gonna hang out at the beach with us?”
“Oh course I am! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Oh my gosh! Ellorie! You’ve gotten so big!” Penny squeals walking over to the group.
“Hi Ms. Penny.” Elle smiles shyly.
“Go on pumpkin. We’ll be back in a bit.” Elle waves to her parents as they walk towards the rest of the group.
Dogfight football was complicated to say the least even halfway through the game Willow did not understand a single rule about the game but everyone was having fun, cheering, getting along. Even her and Rooster had yet to butt heads all day. But Willow’s favorite part was her shirtless husband running forward to make a touchdown. Occasionally Willow and Jake would catch glimpses of Elle who would be cheering from the deck next to Penny. Everytime Jake or Willow scored a touchdown, Elle’s little cheers could be heard.
When Penny had heard Mav dismiss everyone she sent Elle running across the beach.
“Mama! Daddy! Beach time?” Elle questions, running into Jake’s arms.
“Absolutely. In fact...” Jake trails off before taking off running towards the water, Elle screaming in his arms. Willow, Nat, and Coyote laugh as Jake plays with his daughter. Willow runs over and as soon as Elle is out of Jake’s arms Willow pushes him into the water. “Oh! I see how it is!” Jake grabs Willow’s ankle and trips her, catching her as she lands in the water with him. All three of them laugh as they play in the water.
“Did that kid call Hangman daddy?”
“Is that even Hangman?”
“He’s so relaxed.”
“Hangman and Vixen are a cute couple though.” Omaha says.
Halo gasps. “Do you think that's their kid?”
“Holy shit I totally see it.” Yale says to his friends. “Look at her. Spitting image of Hangman with Vixen’s nose. That's definitely a Vixman love child.”
“Vixman?” Phoenix asks, walking over to them. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Hangman and Vixen’s love child.”
“Hey Willow!” Phoenix calls and Willow comes walking up, Jake and Elle behind her.
“What's up?” Phoenix gestures to every who stares in awe of Elle.
“Okay.” Willow clears her throat. “Everyone, this is Jake’s and I’s daughter Ellorie. Elle, these are Mama and Daddy’s friends.” Elle waves softly, holding tight to her father.
“Holy shit dude! She’s like 10!”
“7 and watch your language.”
“Who knew Jake Hangman Seresin would settle down.”
“Oh and we got married 6 years ago.” Jake says. Immediately everyone is asking questions. Willow pulls Elle from the sand into her arms.
“So..” Bradley says, loitering around Willow.
“So…?” Willow replies, waiting for Bradley to continue.
“You were pregnant through all that? When Hangman was MIA?”
“Yea.”
“And you two got married?”
“A year after she was born.” Willow says.
“Just didn’t want to tell anyone? I know your dad wasn’t there.”
“Papa was there.” Elle chimes in.
“Papa?” Rooster questions.
“Ice.” Bradley nods.
“Look–”
“We don’t have to do this, Bradley.”
“Do what?”
“Play catch up. You are still part of the reason my childhood was hell and I don't talk to Mav anymore. We can be civil when it comes to the mission but outside of that? Don’t bother.” Willow walks away from him with Elle still in her arms. “Hey Jake. I’m gonna take Elle to the parlor down the beach.”
“Alright darlin, I’ll meet you down there okay?” Willow nods. “I’ll see you in a bit, pumpkin.”
“Bye Daddy.”
“Nat, tagging along?”
“I’m coming!”
"Good morning. The uranium enrichment plant that is your target will be operational earlier than expected. Raw uranium will be delivered to the plant in ten days time. As a result, your mission has been moved up one week in order to avoid contaminating the target valley with radiation." Willow's eyes widened, her lrft hand tightened its grip on her flight suit, knuckles turning white.
"Sir, no one here has successfully flown a low level course," Coyote is the first to speak up.
"Nevertheless, you've been ordered to move on." Admiral Bates steps aside to allow Maverick to go over the mission parameters.
Willow taps profusely on the desk before her. To anyone it would just look as if she was thinking but Jake knew better. It was an anxious tick he had noticed during flight school that seemed to pop up everywhere they went. Jake rests a hand on hers, attempting to settle her nerves.
"We have one week left to focus on phase two. It's the most difficult stage of the mission. It's a pop up strike with a steep dive, requiring nothing less than two consecutive miracles." He turned to the board behind him, the screen showing what their planes would do as he spoke. "Two pairs of F-18s will fly in a welded wing formation. Teamwork. Precise coordination of these aircraft is essential to both the mission's success and your survival," Maverick says. "As you know, the plant rests between two mountains. On final approach you'll invert directly into a steep dive. This allows you to maintain the lowest possible altitude at the only possible attack angle. Your target is an impact point less than three meters wide. The two seated aircraft will paint the target with a laser bullseye. The first pair will breach the reactor by dropping a laser-guided bomb on an exposed ventilation hatch. This will create an opening for the second pair. That's miracle number one."
Willow's breathing halts at the thought, everything that could go wrong running through her mind. But most is the possible orphaning of her daughter.
"The second team will deliver the kill shot and destroy the target. That's miracle number two," Maverick continued. "If either team misses the target, the mission is a failure. Egress is a steep, high G climb out to avoid hitting this mountain."
"A steep climb at this speed, you're pulling at least eight G's," Jake thinks aloud.
"Nine, minimum," Maverick corrected.
"The stress limit of the F-18's airframe is seven point five," Rooster tells them.
"That's the accepted limit. To survive this mission, you'll pull beyond that. Even if it means bending your airframe. You'll be pulling so hard you'll weigh close to 2000 pounds. Your skull crushing your spine, your lungs imploding like an elephant sitting on your chest," Maverick described. "Fighting with everything you have just to keep from blacking out. This is where you'll be at your most vulnerable. This is coffin corner. Assuming you avoid crashing into this mountain, you'll climb straight up into the enemy radar, while losing your air speed. Within seconds you'll be fired upon by enemy SAMs. You've all faced sustained G's before, but this is going to take you and your aircraft to the breaking point."
"Sir, is this even achievable?" Phoenix asks.
"The answer to the question will come down to the pilot in the box."
Willow exits the room. She can feel the shudders from her heavy breathing as she exits the room.
“Willow.” She keeps walking, trying to find an empty room before she breaks down. “Darlin please, slow down.”
She opens the door to an empty classroom and leans against the closest desk.
“Darlin?” Jake questions, entering mere seconds after her. “Darlin, you gotta breathe.” Slowly Willow’s breathing calms, the tears subside and sits in the closest chair, no longer trusting her legs to keep her up. “What's wrong?”
“I don't think I can do this mission.” Willow sighs.
“Are you kidding? Willow you are the best pilot in that room. If anyone can do it, it's you.”
“I’m sure Jake but,” Willow sighs. “I can’t go on this mission and risk Elle growing up without her mother. Or both of us going on this mission and her becoming an orphan. I can’t do that Jake. I can’t subject her to what I had.”
“No one would ever let that happen. I can promise you that.” Jake comforts. “When we go on this mission, because I know we will, we are both coming home to our little girl. I would never dare let anything happen to her.”
“That's a miss. Bring it back in, Vixen.”
“Dammit.”
“Hey don’t sweat it, Vix. We’ll get it.” Fanboy tries to encourage.
Willow sighs, heading back to base. She lays on the couch in the middle of the lounge, her head resting on Jake’s thigh. Jake runs his fingers through her hair, pulling the Navy regulated bun out so he can ease the tension he knows she has in her head. They listen in on Phoenix, Bob, and Coyote’s trial. Willow lays on her side facing the radio they had moved to the coffee table. Jaka softly massages her scalp when they suddenly hear Mav calling for Coyote but no response.
“Holy shit.” Willow sits up quickly, her gaze burning into the radio.
“Come on Coyote.” Jake mutters leaning forward. Everyone holds their breath as they wait for the sign that Coyote was okay. Once they get the all clear they settle down, thankful that what they thought was the worst was over. That was until the bird strike and then they heard Phoenix and Bob eject.
Willow refused to move from the couch. They had been dismissed over an hour ago but Willow refused to leave until she got an update on her best friend and WSO.
“I’m gonna go pick up Elle, darlin. I’ll be back, alright?” Willow nods, fiddling with the zipper of her flight suit that is now tied around her waist, flight gear abandoned on the floor.
It wasn’t even 30 minutes later that Mav had walked in, giving the update to her before leaving the room. With the knowledge that both Phoenix and Bob were okay, she gathered her gear and began the walk to the locker room. She deposits everything into her locker, changing into her civilian clothes and exits the locker room, heading for the parking lot to meet Jake and Elle. She is almost there when she hears Warlock call for her.
“Lieutenant Commander Seresin!’ Willow turns at the call, face dropping when she sees the sorrowful look on Admiral Bates’s face.
“What happened?” She questions.
“It's Admiral Kazansky. He’s passed. I’m sorry for your loss.” Willow froze in the statement. She tries to process the information but all she manages to do is drop to her knees and cry. Jake comes running through the door with Elle in his arms.
“Hey darlin, it's okay. I’m here.” Jake kneels next to his wife, both him and Elle wrapping Willow a group hug.
“It’s okay, Mama.” Elle whispers. “Papa isn’t hurting anymore.”
Willow pulls back and places a hand on Elle’s cheek. “When did my little girl get so smart?” Elle giggles at the act, wrapping her arms around Willow’s neck and holding her mom close. Willow cried softly as she held her daughter, Jake still knelt beside them, holding both close.
Despite how upset Willow was, she couldn’t deny that the service was perfect. Willow, Jake, and Elle had been asked to stand with Sarah and her and Ice’s 2 children, Jackson and Elizabeth. And despite her protests, that's exactly where Willow found herself.
Jake and Willow were in their service dress blues. Ellorie stood between them in a simple black dress, clutched tightly to her father’s leg.
Cyclone walked up to Sarah with the folded flag and attempted to hand it to her. It shocked Willow when she refused and directed him down the line.
Jack and Lizzie who had been the best aunt and uncle to Ellorie had gone to their mother the day before suggesting that they don’t receive the flag. They both knew that their father loved them unconditionally but he always held a soft spot for his honorary first granddaughter.
Everyone who previously knew about Ellorie and heard story after story from Ice over the years. So when Sarah gave Cyclone a look. He knew exactly where the flag was going. Jack and Lizzie smile through their tears as the admiral walks past them, knowing their father was smiling down on them.
Cyclone kneels before Ellorie, who was still wrapped around Jake’s leg, and holds the flag out to the little girl. Willow tries to fight back her sobs at the action. Elle gently takes the flag from him as he speaks.
“On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Navy and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service.” Cyclone stands and salutes the flag before returning to his post.
Willow watches as Maverick punches Iceman’s wings into the casket. As they set up for the 21 gun salute, Willow reaches down to pick up Elle. Jake takes the flag from his daughter so Willow could hold her, muffling the shots fired.
Before long the service was over and everyone started heading back to their cars. As Sarah goes to leave, Willow catches her.
“We can’t take this, Sarah. It goes to the family.”
“You are family, sweetheart. He would’ve wanted you to have it.” Sarah smiles. Elle reaches out to her grandma, Sarah pulls her over and hugs her, kissing her head before setting her down. “Besides, the kids wanted Elle to have it. They got a lifetime of love from him, they figured Elle deserved a piece of her papa as much as they do.”
Tears well in her eyes at the information before being pulled into a hug. “I love you, Sarah.”
“I love you too sweetheart.”
Sarah walks towards the car where Jack and Lizzie already wait.
Jake leads his family to the car, Willow stumbles still lost in her emotions and Elle rests her head on her father’s shoulder as he carries her, already fast asleep.
“Let's get you both home.” Jake smiles softly after everyone is buckled into the car. He rubs small circles into Willow’s hand for the entirety of the drive.
This past week was taking its toll of Willow. Between the mission and losing the man she saw as a father, Jake knew she wasn’t okay. But Willow still played it off. When they got home, Jake carried Elle to her bedroom while Willow sat on the couch, pulling out every copy she had of the flight plans and mission details she had, burying herself into the mission.
Jake did their nightly cleaning and made sure everything was locked up and away before he spoke.
“Darlin, let's go to bed.” He says softly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders over the back of the couch.
“Just a few more minutes.”
“You’ve been staring at these papers for over an hour.” Jake sighs, massaging her shoulders to make her see she needs to rest. “We have an early morning.”
“I’ll be up in a bit Jake. You go on ahead.” Reluctantly, Jake made his way to their bedroom. He tried to stay up until she came in but he fell asleep waiting. And when he woke the next morning to Willow’s side of the bed was still neatly made, he knew she never came in. Walking out, he finds Willow asleep on the couch, papers strewn left and right.
He drapes the throw blanket from the back of the couch over her before heading to wake up Elle and get her ready for the day. They didn’t have to be at work until 9 so Jake lets her sleep. Once Elle was ready he took her out for a Daddy daughter breakfast.
“Is Mama okay?” Elle questions.
“She’ll be okay, pumpkin. She just misses Papa a lot.” Jake answers the little girl. Elle had become more observant the older she got.
“I miss him too.” Elle says softly, picking up a piece of fruit from her plate.
“Me too. Finish your breakfast. We're gonna be late for school.”
When Jake arrived back home to pick up Willow, she was barreling through the house trying to get ready.
“Where were you?” Willow asks, buttoning her khaki shirt.
“Took Elle to breakfast before school. Are you ready?”
“Yea, lemme grab my phone.”
“Vixen! A word.” Willow turns to see Maverick walking up to her. Jake goes to stand in front of her but she stops him.
“It's fine, I’ll see you in there.” Jake nods walking inside.
“I need a favor.”
“Mav—“
“I need you to run the course by yourself.”
“I haven’t even completed it as a team. What makes you think I wanna run it by myself?” Willow questions.
“They canned me Willow. You are the only person in there that I know can do this mission and should lead it.”
“I can’t—“
“Please, Willow.” She looks through the windows of the doors leading into the classroom just as Admiral Simpson begins speaking.
"Captain Mitchell is no longer your instructor. As of today there are new mission parameters," Admiral Simpson tells everyone as they lean forward paying more attention. Phoenix leans over to Jake.
“Where’s Willow?”
“Maverick pulled her outside.”
"Time to target is now four minutes." Everyone looks around to each other, shocked. There was no way anyone was coming back alive if the time to target was four minutes, and they all knew it. "You'll be entering the valley level at reduced speed, not to exceed 420 knots."
"Sir, won't we be giving enemy aircraft a chance to catch up to us?" Phoenix questioned.
"You have a better fighting chance against enemy aircraft than you do surviving a head-on collision with a mountain," the admiral answered. "You will be attacking the target from a higher altitude, level with the north wall." Just as Admiral Bates continued, everyone’s eyes were drawn to the screen, a beeping came through as two single F-18s fly towards the course.
"Vixen to range control, entering point alpha, confirm green range.”
“Oh fuck.” Bradley mutters leaning forward.
"Range control to Vixen. Uhh, green range is confirmed, but I don't see an event scheduled for you.”
"I’m still going.” Willow calls out.
"Nice," Phoenix mumbled.
"Setting time to target to two minutes and fifteen seconds," Willow said. The previously set time changed and everyone grew more anxious.
"That's impossible," Fanboy calls out just loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Vixen is inbound," she says, crossing the starting point.
The time starts and everyone watches on the edge of their seats as the Willow swerved through the course, on her own. “One minute and 35 seconds, coming up on pop up.” Willow calls out.
She immediately began the incline before performing the inverted dive.
"Bombs away," Willow says, begining her climb out. “Bullseye!” She cheers as she sees impact. Inside the hanger everyone is cheering
By the time she reached the top she was already pulling 9.5 Gs and slowly leveling out, pulling Willow back in as she was close to G-lock. Once she was level the timer stopped. 16 seconds left on the clock.
“That's my girl.” Jake smiles at the screens that document everything about the trial.
Dressed in their whites, Jake and Willow walk into the Hard Deck with Elle beside them. Normally they would never bring her into a bar but with Penny taking Elle during the mission and this being the last night with their friends beforehand.
“Hey there's my favorite niece!” Coyote meets them at the door, lifting Elle from the ground and walking her towards the pool tables.
“I’m going to get some beers.” Willow tells Jake before walking to where the team was. She had been reprimanded for her stunt that previous day but Cyclone saw exactly what Maverick wanted him to see. Willow was the right choice to lead this mission and actually agreed.
“Hey, 2 beers?” Penny asks as Willow walks up to the bar.
“Yes.” Penny reaches down to grab Willow’s and Jake’s regular, opening them up. “Hey, thanks for watching Elle for us. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“It takes a village to raise a child in the military. Fortunately for you, you have a whole armada.” Penny points to the group and Willow looks over to see Coyote helping Elle play pool against Jake, everyone cheering when she sinks the 8-ball. Willow smiles watching how excited Elle is as Jake throws her into the air, catching her, celebrating her win.
“Yea. Listen, if tomorrow doesn’t go as planned–”
“You can’t talk like that Willow.”
“If it happens, make sure she goes to Jake’s family. I don’t need Mav doing to her what he did to me.” Willow finishes.
“Your father has grown a great deal since 1997.” Penny informs.
“My father has not proven that to me. I trust you with my life Pen, but I can’t trust him.”
“I understand. But I will be seeing you tomorrow after this mission.”
“Thanks Pen.” Willow carries the beers over, passing one to her husband.
“Hey darlin, Elle just beat at her first game of pool.” Jake tells her.
“Of course she did. Just like her mama. She will never lose to daddy.” She says to Elle, winking at Jake before walking over to where Phoenix and Bob sat.
“So team leader, you got an idea of who your team is?” Phoenix asks.
“If I did I couldn’t tell you. But I wouldn’t go anywhere without my wingman.” Willow smiles at her best friend.
“So who’s gonna be your second?” Jake asks, Elle now playing pool with Coyote.
“Jake–”
“I get it, someone’s gotta come home to Elle.” Jake replies. “I’d do the same thing in your position.”
“If we didn’t have her, I would choose you in a heartbeat. I trust no one more. You are back up though”
“I’ll take it.” Jake smiles.
“Hangman being okay as back up? Never thought I’d live to see the day.” Phoenix laughs.
“Hey, you already know I would do anything for my girls.” Jake kisses Willow’s temple before walking over to play darts.
“Any idea who your second is?” Bob asks.
“No. I think I’m going to decide on the boat tomorrow.”
“Think hard, Vixen. Lives are on the line.”
The Dagger squad stayed until the late hours of the night. Elle had fallen asleep hours ago and slept peacefully in a booth Penny had set up as a bed. Around 1 am, Penny had closed all tabs and cleaned up before meeting Willow and Jake at her car. They had already gotten Elle buckled in and back to sleep after saying their goodbyes to the sleepy girl.
“We can’t ever thank you enough Penny.”
“You guys coming home safely will be thank you enough. Good luck.”
“Thanks Pen.” The couple retreats to their own vehicle, climbing in and heading home.
They held each other a little closer that night as they slept, mentally preparing themselves for the next day.
#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun x oc#jake seresin x oc#jake hangman seresin x oc#jake hangman x oc#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#glen powell#hangman#rooster#bradley rooster bradshaw#miles teller#bradley bradshaw#tom cruise#pete mitchell#pete maverick mitchell#maverick#always darling js#gbaby always darling#hangmansgbaby#OC!Willow “Vixen” Seresin
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Name: Céline Lavigne
Died: Year 1990
Death By: Heart attack from being overworked and stressed
Sins: Adultery and murder
Occupation: Fashion Designer (Both in living and in Hell)
Nationality: French
Type: Sinner - Doe Demon
Hobbies: Sewing, drawing designs, fencing, decorating, playing violin,
Tailor Shop: Lavigne’s
Love Interest: Alastor
Ex-Husband: Adrien Roux
So I believe when Hazbin Hotel came out with the pilot, I made an oc that I didn’t exactly touch up on. On most of my art accounts, I posted a white fox demoness named Inari! Now essentially, she was my number one HH OC back then but now that the show is finally continuing on, I came up with another OC to sort of replace my old OC! Mesdames et Messieurs, I’d like you all to meet Madam Céline Lavigne!
Céline is a French doe demon who happens to be a fashion designer (both in the living realm and in Hell) with a tailor shop located near the Hazbin Hotel! When she was alive in 1990, Céline lived in France, Paris. She was married and was becoming a rising french clothing designer with a lot of promising ideas and creativity! But while her fame grew, her personal life became dimmer and barren to the point of becoming estranged with her husband. Her busy hours kept her away from him for long periods of time, the stress of working so many hours caused them to have many fights, and then the distance between them caused her husband to seek out other women to hold. And while their marriage was crumbling, Céline tried her hardest to keep it in tact because deep down she still loved her husband. But when she learned that he was sleeping with many women, she in her own rage, decides to even the score and have a one-night stand with a stranger she met at a bar. As she was committing the sin of adultery, her husband had caught her and her lover in the act. Enraged by her actions, Céline’s husband flew into a rage and killed her lover and tried to kill her as well, resulting her into defending herself and killing him by accidentally shoving him off a balcony from her 50 story building. Céline’s reputation had plummeted once the news about her husband’s and lover’s death was revealed. She was shunned and rejected from the fashion industry and once the stress and exhaustion became too much for her to handle, she had died from a severe heart attack, thus sending her damned soul into Hell.
Once Céline had realized that she was indeed in Hell, she started from scratch and rebuilt her fashion career by setting up a tailor shop near the Hazbin Hotel! Once she heard about what Charlie was trying to accomplish at the Hazbin Hotel, Céline took the opportunity to visit and requests to be redeemed. She offers her skills into making new outfits and decor designs for them in payment for her reedeming! Once she was promised redemption, she had to meet the entire staff to familiarize herself with and that includes the Radio Demon himself. Like everyone in Hell, Céline knew how risky and dangerous it was to be around Alastor. She feared him but was also respective enough to make sure she didn’t get on his bad side. Which she didn’t! If anything, it made the overlord direct his attention to her whenever she was present in the same room! He found it fascinating that such a harmless woman was in Hell and it was entertaining for him to figure out what she did to get there! She didn’t exactly trust to be around Alastor but the more she got to know him, the more relaxed she got which eventually led her to having fond feelings for him. But because of her previous marriage, Céline isn’t too confident about getting into a relationship, especially with someone like Alastor since she is planning on being redeemed. So she doesn’t act on her feelings and keeps to herself, being fine with being good friends with him.
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hey i’ve been on SUCH a house kick lately!! would you mind writing something with chase + allergies if possible? ty so much in advance & i really hope you have a great day/night and that you’re taking care of yourself!!
I have too! It had been a few months since I rewatched so I started again. I went to s4 first whoops lol, but am on s5 right now and ugh Chase with his longest hair is so 😍
Set during season 4 (which gets so little love bc he’s in it the least amount of time through out the series), when House is determining a new team. It’s basically just a rewrite of a scene in episode 3! Enjoy!
(And thank you! I hope you’re doing well too Sunday!!)
XXX
As Amber is talking to him; wanting him to help her run tests even though she’s been technically fired, the air around the two doctors becomes heavy with whatever perfume the woman is wearing. It’s decidedly floral and strong, strong enough that Chase wrinkles his nose, the scent making his eyes water.
“You’d have to run a blood test for anti-centromere antibodies,” he points out, rubbing his knuckles against his nose, watching the blonde with curiosity.
“Would you mind running the labs.”
Ha. She thought he’d be that easy.
Wrong.
“You can’t.”
“Well I can, but…”
“No, I was makihhng a statement,” Chase shakes his head, a buzz making itself known in his sinuses. “You’ve been fired, so you no longer have lab privileges-“ he breaks off to sniffle, nostrils twitching at the suffocating perfume in the air.
“You’re coming here to con a favor to sahhve y-you’re job,” he rubs at his right eye, sniffling again. “Sorry, I’m not working for him anymore, but he can still make my life miserable.”
Turning quickly, he tries his hardest to move away, both from the doctor and her perfume, the itchy feeling in his head still growing. He does, he gets four steps down the hallway when Amber speaks up.
“You have a chance to make his life miserable.”
Damn it. He can’t help but turn around, jumping slightly at how close she is.
“I’m insulted. You conned Cameron by appealing to her humanity.”
As he speaks, his nostrils twitch again, and he can feel the need to sneeze growing stronger. He presses his knuckles to his nose, trying to put off the inevitable.
“I told her what she wanted to hear.”
“Ahhhnd you t-told me what you thought I wanted to h-hear…” he trails off, eyes unfocusing and brows knitting together as the feeling crests.
“hh-IhGKtsch!! eihHtCHuh! snf! heh-iiKTSchUH!”
Chase manages to grab the neck of his white undershirt and pull it up while angling his head down enough to aim the half-stifled sneezes against his chest. They don’t do much to help the overwhelming ticklish feeling now crawling in his sinuses, but it feels good to get at the feeling even a little. He sniffles again and straightens back up, fixing his blonde hair that’s flopped into his face.
“Bless you.”
Chase shrugs in acknowledgement and then looks her up and down.
“I cannot believe he f-fired…” he stutters, turning to the side to yet again snap his face under his scrubs and shirt.
“hehIKStCHuh! iiGKshhuh! huh’IKXSHuh! God, s-sorry…” the sniffle he gives is wet and makes the other doctor grimace, though he doesn’t blame her.
Face itchy and eyes watery, Chase scrubs at his face until his still twitching nose is pink and his eyelashes are wet.
“Go draw his blood, meet you in the lab when i’mb done here.”
They look at each other a moment and then she nods, a devious smile replacing her slight pout.
“Maybe pop a pill before we’re in close proximity of each other again, House will know.”
“Or maybe you should wipe some of your god awful perfume off- hih’tschh’uh!”
The sneeze sneaks up on him and he barely has time to turn away, sneezing freely into the air and wrinkling his nose. Gross.
“Is this why Cameron smells like coconut and not flowers like I expected?”
“Go draw the damn blood.”
The woman walks away and Chase heads to the surgeons lounge to find his bag and down some Benadryl, blowing his nose and splashing cold water in his face before begrudgingly going to help the woman he secretly hopes House hires. She gets things done that’s for sure.
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4 and 12 and 14 and 17 and 18 for lizzy and maybe the other fallout gals if you want
THIS GONNA B LONG poppin a readmore down. This might also be illuminating for some people on why I drag with my New Vegas and Fallout 4 fics. >>
4. In developing their backstory, what elements of the world they live in played the most influential parts?
For Lizzy backstory was relatively easy since Fallout 3 gives you one premade. The greater wasteland as a whole does have its influences in what I ended up expanding on with her just in that I really wanted to amp up the contrast between her and her surroundings. The world is hard and difficult and violence is frequent and here's an asthmatic girl who was born a preemie and not suited for the skills that would make life in the wasteland easy but she's going to try, damn it.
With Carmen I think New Vegas' standout in vibe from 3 and 4 played a big role with her. New Vegas the city is a big deal, but there's an equal if not greater emphasis on the world outside the city. The survival skill always fascinated me, and I wanted a character who really thrived in it, totally outside of the pre-war ruins that play a more heavy role in both Lizzy and Eleanora's stories. I wanted a character where anything to do with the city and old world was usually a bad thing. She's got few experiences in the city that she can chalk up as nice.
Fallout 4 always gave me a sense of yearning and nostalgia, mixed with rose colored glasses for the world before. It also gives a backstory I decided to follow pretty closely for Eleanora - she's one of the first OCs I started fleshing out in my return to tumblr and the fandom scene and writing fic so she's not quite as branched out or creative as the others, but in general the ruins of Boston reflect her mindset. There's a lot of damage with the building of something new over it, but there's still the old shining through all the while.
12. What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)?
I think Lizzy is one of my 'lightest/brightest' characters, and as someone who leans toward the angsty in my work that can be difficult for figuring out things to do with her that capture her properly. Because I want to be nice to her. She deserves it. :(
Carmen is probably my hardest OC to do things for just due to her complexity - or at least, the complexity I want to try and put into her. It's difficult to try and untangle the threads and make them into something that makes sense. I might be overthinking things and worrying too much, though??
Carmen and Eleanora both share the same difficulty in that they were created and written when I was in a very different and darker headspace than I am now. There's a lot more innate sadness to them and again, while I like my angsty work it's also difficult to enter into that headspace while writing them or making works for them. HOWEVER both of them have stuff in the works for their advancing and growing and healing so that part will be easier.
The other hard thing with them is their being fleshed out and having works made for them earlier than Lizzy and my not being super happy with how in depth that is, but such is life. :V
14. If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be?
Lizzy:
1. Is physically small and weak, and that should show in visual art of her. In writing, it influences her approach to things.
2. Is emotionally a behemoth and has a maturity and sensitivity there that emphasizes she's a woman, and not a girl.
Carmen:
1. Her outsider nature. In both appearance and mannerism Carmen tends to chronically stand out as someone who doesn't belong - an irony usually because she had done a lot to belong and in the case of the Mojave it's home.
2. Her intensity. When she finds somewhere she manages to belong she will cling to it. She's no stranger to violence. She'll do what needs doing. There's a fire in her eyes.
Eleanora
1. She's of the old world. She has ideas from it that will linger, expectations of the world, habits that are hard to break. Generally most obvious in her personal grooming and appearance, she keeps weight better than wastelanders and has pre-war ideas of style.
2. She's also lost everything. As a result she'll fight hard to do good and try and replace a little scrap of what was stolen from her, but there's a manic edge to it. There's always a very deep melancholy in her that she rarely allows herself to even touch because it'll drown her the second she does.
17. Is there some element you regret adding to your OC or their story?
Lizzy - no ragrets. Probably because I developed her with a more practiced hand and mindset compared to my other ladies and am still very happy with the work I've done with her.
Carmen - I do dither a bit about her backstory working at Gomorrah. It plays into how Vegas holds nothing but bad vibes for her (and the irony of how this place that was so bad for her is one who's fate she can influence in this big way) and also that she, like Mary (my Bloodlines OC), has a bit of a gift in a tragic event that occurs to her. Carmen's amnesia/bullet to the head helps her have a new start she'd struggle with otherwise, even as it robs her of the good things in her life. But on reflection I don't know if it was too much or not. :V
Eleanora - Not really, but I do wish I went with more detail and a fine toothed comb in expanding on how her pre-war origins have influenced her and how they've given her some preconceptions that are incorrect. I wish I gave her more of an arc in learning and growing from that, and giving her a little more depth.
tl;dr lizzy is my favorite fallout child because writing and art hard
Thanks for the asks!!! <33
OC Creation Questions
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So Gregory, Lucy, and Felicity won the poll with Portia and Violet coming in second and Edwina and Penelope coming in third. I have started watching Harlots and am also in an omegaverse mood soooo. . .
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Gregory was trying so hard not to blush. He needed to say something, anything. But what does one say to their family member who had basically dragged you off to a heat house?
Edwina Bagwell rolled her eyes at the young alpha. "It is not that embarrassing Gregory. You are not the first nor the last lord's child who has used a heat house to help you through a rut. It could be worse, I could be Kate or Anthony."
Now Gregory wasn't sure if he wanted to be sick or crawl in a hole somewhere at the thought. Kate and Anthony are basically his second parents, he would die of mortification if they ever took him to a heat house.
"And besides if you didn't know this place was a heat house then you would never think it one passing by. Very discreet and only serves those of the ton."
Gregory finally got his damn mouth to work. "Does your husband know you go to these?"
Edwina smiled. "Of course, he does. My husband and I do not mind sharing one another, especially when one of us is away. He much prefers I don't spend my heats alone."
She links one arm through Gregory's and starts marching him into the building. "Now come. Let us find you a rut partner before it hits."
Gregory wanted to argue that he had a week before his rut hit, not that it would make a difference as Edwina had already dragged him to the door.
He had to admit this was a very discreet place. If he didn't know any better, he would have assumed it was just another home of some gentry member. They even had a butler answering the door and taking calling cards.
On the inside though was a different story. The house was darkened, with the only light being soft candlelight. It was very open too, all the drawing rooms had the doors wide open, some without doors at all. Men, women, alpha, beta, and omega all sat in these different rooms, some in groups, others by themselves. Some wore feathers of varying colors in their hair.
Gregory could do without all the smells. So many in one place was not helping keep his alpha calm. Damn rut making his nose more sensitive. Most of these scents were okay, there were a few putrid ones though. Like that overly sweet one that honestly came off as fake.
Edwina and Gregory were led to an upper floor office, where they were greeted by an older omega woman.
Gregory would put her around his mother's age. Her red curls piled on top of her head into a bun with a gold feather sticking out. The choker around her neck was black with gold stitching in the shape of a feather. Her scent is a comforting one, a mixture of lemongrass and lavender.
"Mrs. Bagwell, tired of your husband already?" The woman teased.
Edwina giggled. "Madam Portia. He's away for business at the moment and sadly won't be here for my heat."
The woman turned her brown eyes on him. "I see you brought fresh meat for my girls. A Bridgerton no less."
Gregory shouldn't be surprised Madam Portia recognized him, one of his older brothers probably use to frequent this place. Since Edwina knows of this place it was probably Anthony-
"Your mother has always been one of my favorite partners."
Gregory blinked. "I'm sorry what?"
Madam Portia just carried on like this was normal to learn your mother frequents heat houses. "Honestly felt sorry for the poor thing when Lady Danbury dragged her here the first time. The first heat or rut after the year of mourning always seems to hit the hardest. You almost always need someone there to help."
Madam Portia started digging through her paperwork. "So what brings you to my den of sin little Bridgerton?"
Before Gregory could respond that he in fact was dragged here Edwina spoke up.
"He's getting too aggressive during his ruts. He needs a rut partner."
Not true, so what if he shattered a mirror and a dresser during his last rut? He does not need a rut partner. If anything Gregory should be working on finding his mate, a guaranteed way to help calm him down.
Madam Portia nodded. "Most young ones do. Lucky for you plenty of my girls know how to handle young alphas." Madam Portia turned towards Gregory. "Now how long before your rut hits?"
Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush. "A week."
Madam Portia smiled. "Perfect. We normally suggest a week in advance anyway so that way you can find the right partner for you and you both can work out how to spend your rut and payment."
Portia pulled out two contracts and two black feathers with red tips. "As Mrs. Bagwell already knows this is your contract Mr Bridgerton. In it states that we will help you with your rut so long as no harm comes to our girls and we receive payment. You are to come as often as you can a week before your rut so that you can relax your alpha with scenting. Whether that partner be an omega, beta, or another alpha is your choice. My available girls will have a yellow feather in their hair. Those who are currently with partners will have this same color feather in their hair. Those with a white feather though are off limits."
Madam Portia narrowed her eyes. "Do we understand that Mr. Bridgerton?"
Gregory nodded, hesitantly taking the feather and signing the contract. He still didn't believe he needed to be here, but Edwina still has a vice like grip on him. He'll just not give the feather to any of the girls, wait until Edwina is done, and be on his way.
"Is Pen available?" Edwina asked as she took her feather.
Madam Portia looked over a book. "She should be. She'll be in the emerald room today."
"Thank you," Edwina said and started to drag Gregory off.
Gregory wrinkled his nose the further they walked away from the office. "Edwina I truly think this will not work."
"You'll never know if you don't try Gregory." Edwina began to pull him towards a drawing room in the back of the house. "Now come, we'll start in the Emerald room."
The Emerald room was well emerald. It was also less crowded than other rooms with a total of maybe ten people, including Edwina and himself.
Edwina looked around the room before dragging Gregory over to a window seat where a plump, red-haired omega sat reading a book. He would put her around Edwina's age. She wore a soft green dress with no petticoats, so the fabric clung to her like those of ancient greek statues. Around her neck is the same black choker with gold thread that Madam Portia wore. She smelled of pomegranate and lotus.
"Pen!" Edwina greeted her.
The omega, Pen, sat down her book (was that greek?) and smiled. "Edwina, it's been a while. Did Mr. Bagwell, leave you alone for me?" She said, practically a purr.
Edwina dropped a kiss on Pen's lips and the feather in her hand.
Pen turned towards Gregory. "And who might this strapping alpha be?" Her brown eyes looked him over but it felt like she was looking through him.
Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush.
"I'm Gregory."
Pen's eyes lit up in recognition. "The youngest Bridgerton boy."
Don't blush. "It appears my family's reputation reaches farther than I thought."
Pen giggled. "Edwina and I are close friends and sometimes lovers. My friend Gen also spent quite a bit of alone time with your brother Benedict before he decided to tie the knot."
"What a small world. "
Pen nodded. "Indeed."
"Pen!" Another red head omega shot across the room. She was taller than Pen but younger. Gregory would put her a few years younger than himself, 21 maybe? She wore the same style of dress as Pen but her's were in blue. Almost the same shade as the Bridgerton blue. The same style of chocker was around her neck but there was something peaking out from underneath on the side of her neck.
A wave of orange blossoms with a hint of honey hit Gregory and he felt himself relax, and he cheeks start to heat up.
Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush.
"Litty, Edwina was kind enough to bring us a new guest, why don't you say hello to Gregory?" Pen suggested, as she darted her eyes towards Gregory.
Litty looked up, her breasts almost brushing against Gregory's chest. When did she get so close, or did he get closer?
"Edwina you brought a little cutie alpha!" Litty exclaimed as her hands cupped Gregory's face. "The girls are gonna eat him up."
Gregory's alpha purred at her touch, and wanted more.
Gregory turned his just so so he could rub against one of Litty's scent marks against her wrist. Her scent, it was almost perfect. If only the honey scent was just a little bit stronger. He glanced up at her hair.
She had a yellow feather in her hair.
"Litty let him go!" Pen ordered. "He's getting scent drunk."
"Oops, my bad!" Litty let go, her hands moving faster than Gregory's so he could put them back. She thankfully didn't completely let him go though, instead grabbing his hand and leading him to another window seat. "Come on I'll help you find your rut partner while Pen and Edwina work on payment."
Litty sat down. "So, your name is Gregory correct?"
Gregory nodded. "And you are Litty?"
Litty smiled. "That's me. So, what's your preference? Omega? Beta? Maybe another alpha?"
Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush.
"Um," Gregory stuttered. "Omega would be preferred."
Litty nodded. "That's probably for the best. You're new to rut partners aren't you?"
Gregory chuckled. "You can tell?"
Litty shrugged. "You all have the same look when you come in for the first time. You can start to tell, you can also tell who's families throw them in here."
Gregory sighed. "You can tell that too?"
"Your scent has been sour since you walked in. It's not uncommon."
Gregory and Litty looked over at the voice. It was another omega, this one with honey blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was dressed more like a maid, though the fabric of her dress still hugged tighter than any maid Gregory has seen in the past. She also wore the same choker, and like Litty there was something peaking out on the side of her neck.
She smelled of honey, with a hint of orange blossom, and in her hair was a white feather.
"Lulu!" Litty smiled, stretching her hand out for the other omega to take. Lulu curled into Litty's side, her head laid against Litty's shoulder. "Gregory this is Lulu."
Their two scents mixed, that missing piece to Litty's scent now there.
"A pleasure to meet you," Gregory said. His alpha purred in agreement.
Both omegas smiled at him.
Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush.
Damn it he was blushing.
#gonna stop there before it gets too long#gregory is in trouble#he's got two mates to win over#his siblings are gonna give him so much shit#bridgerton#gregory x lucy x felicity#gregory bridgerton#lucy abernathy#felicity featherington
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Revivals And Offerings Chapter 1: How to feel Lovely Again
Originally posted on A03 here
Death was infinite and unknown. It was inevitable and it came for all like did for Aisha Roberts. Decapitation was a horrid death for anyone but more so for the one who called for their lovers knowing they’ll die. Death was supposed to be an afterthought, where you would go to heaven for the saints, or hell for the sinners.
But what was Aisha? She was loved and she led a successful career, but she loved a devoted killer and she hung with saintly sinners. Gang life was what she was born into, and she saw many things a woman should never see. If anything Heaven and Hell was the domain she should’ve fallen into.
But instead, as she laid in a white pond of bright purple lotus under a pitch-black sky, she was in a new domain. Yet she didn’t know, as she slowly opened up her eyes. She didn’t know why she felt her head and her body connected again. She slowly sat up and found herself in a gown of gold and white embroidered with eyes and geometric teeth all on her sleeves and her ribcage embroidered by gold. Upon looking in the reflection, a crown of thorns was hovering over her akin to a halo of a saint. She was restored to her younger state evident by her dreadlocks draping down her shoulders.
“My sweet,” Crooned a hoarse raspy voice toned in sorrow. Aisha looked up and gasped. The voice was a human woman’s but the shape it belonged to, belonged to no woman. Gazing down at Aisha, was the skull of an owl whose beak was dipped in obsidian. Pooling from its sockets was gold akin to tears. The liquid gold streamed down from its skull and fell into white water, upon contact became the hydrangeas the two were surrounded by.
The owl’s head was devotedly attached to a human skeleton, and the upper half was scantily exposed save for a veiled cloak, whose pattern could only be described as the veining of a butterfly’s wings. Her bones were coated in the same obsidian but veined in gold all over, continuing down her spine and to her leonine legs. The skull had no emotion to show, but her voice was of sorrow, and she towered over her, possibly taller than Johnny.
“My sweet, how you’ve suffered. How cruel fate became to you, taking you away,” She sorrowfully said as she reached out with her spidery fingers. Aisha hesitated, slightly drawing back. The entity was damningly terrifying, yet all she conveyed was of no means to harm her. If anything, the sorrow and her gestures were trying to only comfort the dead woman. The entity only tilted her head.
“I died, didn’t I?” Aisha whispered, yet her words echoed in the pond and in the sky.
“Yes, My sweet,” The entity sorrowfully answered. “The dragon’s claws killed you, and took you away from the living.”
The entity reached out for her again, and this time Aisha allowed her. With the entity’s spindly hands caressing the side of her cheek before it trailed up and tucking one of her locks behind Aisha’s ear. The entity, taller and possibly stronger, could rip her to shreds with the swipe of her claws. But in every movement, in the gold drippings, the entity was trying its damn hardest to be gentle with Aisha.
Aisha knew damn well who the entity was talking about as emotions filled her throat. The Ronin, and that damned Jyunichi. It all came flooding back to her, the intruders, the assassin that killed her, and Johnny’s name is the last thing on her lips. A thin ring of ice now burned on Aisha’s neck as she remembered her tragedy, now realizing her death. Gold tears from her cheek now dripping on the side of her face as she spills her emotion. The droplets fell to the water, and instead of hydrangeas, the tears blossomed into the roses that her devoted Johnny once gave her, red white and yellow roses that stand out against the bright violet hues of the hydrangeas.
Aisha would’ve crumbled to the pond on her hands, but the entity caught her and held her close to her own ribs. Aisha continued to sob and wail, wailing for the loss of her life, for her friends and her Johnny. She didn’t want to leave them, and she never had any intention to do so cruelly. She didn’t want to die young, and now may never die old, leaving a legacy of children or wedded. It wasn’t fair and fuck fate for being so cruel.
The entity was silent, cradling her and rubbing the back of Aisha’s head. Within the mausoleum of her obsidian bones, there was no heartbeat, but only the sound of the rain. The two were strangers, yet sorrow was a shared factor. After what seemed like an eternity, Aisha slowly pulled away, trembling and sniffling. The entity, slowly pulled away giving the young woman space as she collected her tears.
The roses did not escape Aisha’s notice. If anything, she was drawn to the memory of them, to that life, her life. And now questions began to arose in Aisha’s mind as she turned to the entity once more.
“Who are you and why the hell am I here?” The question left her lips trembling from the aftermath of her cries. But she stares hoping for answers.
The entity is silent. Though she took no offense, it didn’t show in her hollow sockets that pooled with the gold down her bones. She paused and looked down at the white water before turning to Aisha.
“Many people have given me names for the many shapes I have taken. A devourer, a savior, benevolent and malevolent. Destroyer and Creator, a god and a devil. Warrior and diplomat. I am many of these things and so much more. I am the one who cries and rages for the women and children lost. For unnecessary wars and corrupt men I spill their blood with the very sadism they show to the innocents. They have called me Athena, Kali, Ishtar, and Mut to name a few,” She honestly declared. As two lilac-colored orbs began to fill her once hollow sockets, burning away at her golden tears. There was pride in her raspy voice, all of these things she was proud of her nature over. The nature of cosmic horror, fragmented in this complicated reality, and many more to raise and destroy.
But Aisha did not know this. Instead, she could only listen as her eyes widened in concern.
“But in this shape I take and in the domain, we reside in, I am called Cariformes. Though Cari is an acceptable name you may refer me to.”
Aisha was somewhat horrified by all these titles and the bluntness in Cari’s answer. Some of the names were unfamiliar, but Kali was a name she was familiar with. A woman ready to go on a warpath and take many heads as she wanted. In a sense, the living embodiment could be Johnny.
She was being truthful, at least she hopes she was. Cari continued as she stood up, her attention towards the starless night that cascaded over them.
“I pulled you here, for I have watched your life as I have done with many souls, and frankly, such a death is undeserving to you. I wish to offer you a second chance, at taking your life back,” She offered as she reaches towards the sky.
Holding one finger, she swipes to the sky in one motion, and it shattered into multiple fragments. These fragments were like mirrors to the world of the living. Every fragment showcased every event. From her death, to others that came before. She sees her killer murdered by the Boss of Saints Row. She sees the very people who ordered it suffer death too. She sees old memebers die and new ones joining. She sees the Saints fighting a giant soda mascot and other odd things that don’t make sense.
What does make sense was seeing her earth die at the hands of alien greed. The one called Xinyak took him away and locked him in stasis. The worst part? Johnny being forced to relieve her death. Over. And Over and over and all over again. What a horrid kind of cruelty to bestow, it was a slow death of the mind. Johnny was horrid in some areas, but never did he deserve to watch her die over and over. Anything but that was the last thing he ever deserved.
“Though it didn’t ask for an early grave, your earth is just as sacred as the blood in your veins. This...Filth,” She spat as the images of a pale alien with black thorns shone on all of the fragments. “This wretched filth, had no right to destroy it, like it has done with many others in your universe.”
“Others?” Aisha asked.
“Yes, not my point. My point is that, I can give you the power of choice. The choice to go back and prevent it along with your death,” She announced as she glanced down. “Back to him.”
The fragments cease to have Xinyaks image, and all of them change into Johnny Gat. Aisha’s heart stopped. Their torrid and stubborn natures were often a problem, but at the end of it all she loved him no matter what. Even if her last breath was blessed with an act of love. She looked back up at Cariformes.
“What will I owe you? If it means being back on a leash, I’m not interested.”
“No leash, none. You will owe me nothing,” Cariformes informed her. She wanted nothing physical or faustian. She was contempt with nothing in return, but unknown to Aisha, ulterior motives often came in the form of kind acts. If anything, she wanted to give everyone a chance. A beautiful chance that added to the wonderful chaos Aisha’s world had to offer. The kind of chaos that was the most pleasurable to watch on TV with a glass of wine in hand.
Glorious Chaos.
Aisha was deep in thought. The chance to avoid her death? Without anything in return? It seemed like a trap, but if it was, it would be worth if for her Johnny shining in the fragments of the sky. To give him a chance of being freed in the labryinthe of her death, to give each other a happy ending when there was no chance in her past life? Johnny Gat may be an Asshole, but he was forever her asshole.
She looked up at Cariformes, with quiet determination. “I’ll take your offer.”
The horror stared into her very soul with her orbs. This woman had seen much in her life. Here she was staring the horror back with determination. Willingly agreenig to go back and relieve most of it. Silently, Cariformes raised both hands to the sky.
The fragments of Johnny disappear.
Colors of vibrant red, yellow, green, blue and purple begin to bleed in the sky, marblizing and swirling to Cariformes’ hands, where it dripped profusely from her fingertips. Aisha could stay, but she couldn’t help but be rendered with fear. Her whole body began to tremble as she could only watch the power that Cariformes held in her hands.
Cariformes having sensed this, looked down, as the golden tears began to form once more.
“My sweet,” She assured her as she knelt down. “It will be alright, my sweet.”
Her words were comforting, as she reached out for Aisha. “It will not hurt my sweet. It will be only like a--”
Cariformes and the world were gone in an instant the moment Aisha shot up in her bed, gasping. She reached for her heart, and for her neck. All of it was still in place, and Aisha Roberts was alive once more, and still remembered everything, even her death.
Alive, in Stilwater, where it is now morning. Aisha turned to her clock, and her eyes widened upon the date: November 13, 2004.
Five years before she died.
#Saints Row#Saints Row The Third#saints row 2#aisha#sr1#Johnny Gat#gatboss#the boss#dexter jackson#troy bradshaw#shaundi#Revivals and Offerings#Julius little#benjamin king#saints row reboot
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strip sessions: black book
podcast: strip sessions (with gareth hayes)
host: gareth hayes
guest: mitch harris (founder of black book)
“What I’m trying to say is… Black Book was intended for, you know, guys, basically. Like, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never heard girls talk about sharing fuckboys, you know?” “Nah, man.” “Not openly, not… ever. Feels kinda weird, honestly, how big of a topic Black Book’s become. I was just tired of keeping an actual book and asked a couple of guys I know to help me make a simple enough app to make my life easier,” he chuckled, “turns out my friends told their friends and then one day I woke up only to find out Black Book was among the top paid apps on App Store. So, you know, been upgrading it a lot since then…upping the price, obviously. I do what I can to earn big bucks, not just for me – for everyone I work with, so… yeah, feels pretty damn good.” “Dude, I don’t even care how it looks, as long as it works. I mean, I’ve fucked a lotta 5-star girls on that app and I gotta say, best fucking sex of my life.” “I love that, yeah, that’s what makes it so good… and also, you know, we got a lot of hate adding those stars, mostly from… yeah, you know who.” “C’mon, man, we all know… let’s fucking talk about that goddamn elephant. Hell, maybe she’s listening as we speak. We love you Gemma,” he chortled, “yeah, anyway, we all wanna know… that dope-ass cartoon, it’s her, no?” “Okay-okay, first of all, I have nothing against Gamani, alright? I respect her. She’s a boss bitch, a damn feisty one too,” he hummed, “that being said, she’s-uhm, she’s made things more difficult than it has to be, for sure. And, no – it’s not her, I basically just asked a buddy of mine to draw a sexy, half-naked woman, you know, Grand Theft Auto-like shit. So he did, and it turned out awesome.” “Yeah right, we all know you’re lying – they have a tattoo on the exact same body part, for fuck’s sake.” “Yeah, it’s still a no,” he snickered, "like, Gemma’s one thing but like, your ex, Jackie – she wrote this article a year ago, saying my app was sexist… how some use my app for revenge porn, you know… she went as far as calling me a misogynist at some point. I–” “Woah, what? Hold up, she said that?” “Yeah, man, yeah… that honestly was the hardest shit, cause people believed it, for like, months… it was the worst, man, I kinda hid for a while there.” “That’s fucked up.” “It was, but it’s all good now – most people know I’m a nice guy. I honestly don’t even use the app nowadays. I like, got what I need, I live the best life and I do whatever the fuck I want.” “Hells yes. I’m glad, man, I’m glad. Hey, so, you up for some calls?” “Yeah, man… been practicing my therapy voice for weeks.” They both laughed. “Alright then, let’s roll.”
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damn, remember ask superyogs?
these have all been waiting to be posted since like 2019.
under the cut i’m gonna post all the secrets and unfulfilled plans i had for the comic that i can think of or remember. definitely feel free to ask any questions if you got them. feeling nostalgic.
plans i had for the plot
X becomes Xephos as seen in the last halloween special. rythian would take him to the headquarters and tawny would hit him with a steel chair until he convinces her he’s good now (he’s not). eventually he was going to get himself killed to play one last joke by driving tawny truly as mad as himself. maybe it would have worked, maybe not. to top it off, lying was going to bring him back, but since X is “the only me”, he’d be off. maybe just a real xephos again, maybe some slightly alternate X.
Nilesy would find out Parv is the one who murdered his granddad. parv would try to explain himself only for nilesy to shun him, showing mercy despite wanting nothing more than to kill parv. nilesy’s rejection breaks parv’s heart and strife pushes him to go full monster, forcing nilesy to end parv by pulling the blood out of his body, killing him.
rythian would have to fight the ender dragon queen, who would probably come to the real world by becoming a hot dragon lady or using rythian’s body as a vessel or something. the queen plus the resurrection of israphel would cause the greatest threat to reality so far, forcing all the villains and heroes to team up and defeat them.
Steve? would put on a giant hulkbuster mecha and eventually get forced out of it, and a villain would say something like “without your fancy suit youre just a stupid kid”, and steve? would pull out a “diamond sword” (a full on lightsaber) and do a few cool things and tragically die.
khaz would recover, but be completely unable to hero again. the ghost of xephos would tell him it’s time he stops fighting for xephos and to start living for honeydew.
kim and lalna would eventually free themselves from DoG again, and bebop would reveal he’s already had a real robo body made and ready to upload himself into.
DoG would go more into how his brain is decaying due to his powers and basically holding itself together with cosmic stardust. someway somehow, after he and the supers save the world from israphel and the ender queen, he’d get his comeuppance and the old Ridge would come back very briefly to say something tragic, and he’d basically fade away.
the comic where zoey designs her new arm’s tools was to foreshadow that she was eventually gonna save someones life using the umbrella attachment, and also somehow make an APC with it.
sipsman’s arc was pretty much done. due to IRL fallout, s*inergy would have faded heavily in importance, sipsman as a character likely would have suffered a bit as a side effect.
kim would finally lose her flux mutations, but reveal that her entire body was flux, and she would have an ultimate anime form where she turns into some glowing nude power woman and destroy DoG’s facility singlehandedly.
various secrets/headcanons
nilesy is the strongest super in the series. he is basically THE god of water, but doesn’t know it.
lying and sipsman were my favorite characters to draw
tawny was the hardest character to draw
steve? is in love with tawny, who would violently reject him and eventually have to apologize. ross also fell in love with tawny but no one would ever find out.
parv was difficult because i never knew how far to take his gimmick. i always worried he was offensive or triggering to people who suffer with self injury issues. i remember i saw a tag that said something like “thank you for parv, he really helps with my issues” and i was like “h-how?”
yeah im pretty sure parv and strife were gettin’ down too. but parv had a crush on nilesy too.
kims mutations would have been way cooler or more severe if i had been better at drawing at the time.
i believe zoey appears the most of any character. she was the easiest girl to draw and during the comics run i wasnt very good at drawing girls so i used her as practice.
there’s probably more but i cant think of it right now. if you read this far, thanks for everything. superyogs will forever be a huge chunk of my life and i have it to thank for how far i’ve come with art today and hopefully, i’ll go even farther.
hope you all enjoyed superyogs while it lasted.
#yogscast#ask superyogs#hat films#lyinginbedmon#rythian#parv#kd#will strife#sips#xephos#honeydew#lalna#DoG#alsmiffy#djh3max#trottimus#zoey#zoey proasheck#kim#nanosounds#khaz#tawny#ross#trott#smiff#steve?#minecraft#nilesy#the nile
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Act of Contrition [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]
Title: Act of Contrition [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]
Synopsis: A shimmering blue evening gown was not the last thing you expected to see draped over the sitting chair that was tucked into the corner. What you didn’t expect, however, was his suggestion for you to try it on
Word Count: 3646
notes: yandere, kidnapped reader
A shimmering blue evening gown was not the last thing you expected to see draped over the sitting chair that was tucked into the corner. It would certainly not be the first time that Chrollo had brought back something ostentatious, something glittering and expensive; something that you (if you were to psychoanalyze him, which you did, out of anxiety first and boredom second) would guess he wanted you to admire before it disappeared into the ether like so many other things he’d pilfered over the past few months.
What you didn’t expect, however, was his suggestion for you to try it on.
At first you thought you’d misheard, your brain still pulling itself out of a dull, listless sleep. You had argued with him the night before, and the space between you on the bed was thick and heavy with tension until you had finally slid headlong into sleep. Surely he wouldn’t try to give you a gift after you spend most of the evening reminding him that you’ll never love him, or even like him, much less feel one iota of happiness in his presence.
But then he repeated the suggestion.
“Why?” Your tone is borderline acidic, and you don’t feel the need to hide your suspicion of his intentions.
Your captor had no doubt become well-acquainted with your nastiness over the months, though he rarely reacted to it with more than a tight expression, if he even gave you that. Sometimes he simply ignored you, as if you were a child having a tantrum, not his kidnapped victim.
In some ways, it was a surprising relief. In some ways, you could consider yourself lucky. Considering his abilities, considering his past, considering what he did when he left you alone in the condo or hotel or wherever he had you situated--he might well be the type to slap the attitude off your face, gentlemanly facade be damned. He could do worse than a slap, too; far worse.
But the months had gone on with only pointed sighs and looks; and despite his rationally stated insistence that you would give in to his attentions in time, you held onto your bitterness as tightly as you could. You prized yourself on it, the way you figure that he prizes his most precious steals.
He sometimes comes back with glittering jewels worth calculable fortunes, laying them out to see the way they look when the moonlight filters in through the open curtains. He doesn’t keep them for long, doesn’t display them, just memorizes their magnificence and then whisks them off.
You can relate to the gloating. But you don’t give your greatest treasures away. You, on the other hand, wear your bitterness 24/7 like an old woman clinging to her last precious mink coat, a remnant of an era gone-by. Draped over your shoulder, haughty and visible, daring him to say something when you give him a sarcastic jab in response to perfectly-polite-inquiries about this and that. The worst (but best, you think, to you) is when you feign interest in a conversation, feign some sort of acceptance of your situation, willing your hands to get closer to his as you sit on the sofa and read; only to snap back at the last moment, baring your teeth.
You hope it hurts him, to think he’s getting an inch forward with you only to have it pulled away. He deserves it for keeping you here.
Sometimes, you almost hope he would say something, do something, only because it might be a sort of reprieve. If he gets mad or slaps you, even, maybe the solid, sticky bitterness surrounding your heart might abate just a bit.
Then again, you know this saying very well: be careful what you wish for.
“I need to see if it fits.” His expression and tone haven’t changed. Polite, cordial, matter-of-fact. You hate it.
You force yourself out of bed and give the gown a glance before heading into the bathroom. He follows, picking up his own morning routine as you wash and brush side-by-side. You think he does it to seem domestic, in his own fucked-up way. You pointed this out, once, and he’d merely given you a small smile and asked: “Do you want to this to be domestic?”
Chrollo had a habit of turning your impulsive snark around on you, so you tried to plan your barbs out more carefully in the future.
“Why do you need to see if it fits?” You finally ask, words a bit muffled by the toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. You force yourself to glance at him in the mirror. He’s finished, already drying off his face, pinning a wrap around his forehead.
He catches your gaze in the mirror, and you feel too caught to look away.
“For tonight. We’re going to the theater.”
The toothbrush drops from your mouth and lands next to the sink, splattering lathered toothpaste on the counter. You wipe your mouth with a washcloth, missing a bit and not caring, and physically turn away from the mirror so you’re face-to-face.
“Are you serious?”
For the moment, your bitterness slides off, forgotten on the floor. He’s never offered to do something like this before. Sure, he’s mentioned that you might go out--”it depends on your behavior”--but the thought of “being good” for Chrollo made you sick to your stomach every time you were tempted. So you hadn’t been outside for months, not really--the brief gaps when he’d whisk you into a car, always by his side, then pull you into a new hotel or luxury condo didn’t really count.
He nods.
“Yes. Please do hurry and try it on, I’ll need time to find another if it isn’t suitable.”
You glance out of the bathroom door and back into the bedroom, where the gown sits, draped, shimmering softly in the morning light. It’s something you never would have been able to afford before--and the thought of wearing it now makes your skin tingle. What is his plan? Why is he doing this?
“But I haven’t been good,” you say, almost spitting out the last word. Last night, in fact, you’d been almost beastly--you recall the words “go fuck yourself” and “I hate you” being thrown out before you twisted in the knife by bringing up an ex-fling.
He laughs, quick and harsh. It seems like a real laugh, for once, and something in your chest twists. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard anything truly authentic from him. Or yourself.
“Maybe it’s a reward for me, to have you by my side. You want to go, don’t you?”
The thought makes your stomach clench. But… you did want to go. Really. To get out of here, even for a night? To get sucked into some type of show, whatever it was? You didn’t entertain the idea of trying to escape or draw attention to yourself for help--you knew Chrollo would never suggest taking you if it was a viable option. He was just as likely to slaughter the entire theater if you whispered to an usher that you were being held captive.
No, no escape in the cards… at least not physically.
You shrug your shoulders and try to seem nonchalant about it, though you’re sure he can feel the way your skin is buzzing.
“Sure, whatever. Don’t expect me to hold your hand or anything.”
He laughs, again. It’s blatantly false this time.
***
It has been… a while since you’ve done your makeup. The pile of messy makeup wipes on the counter can attest to that--this is now your third try at a full face without messing something up. Thankfully, the third time has been the charm, and you’re satisfied with the reflection in the mirror. Chrollo had turned up your old makeup bag, and sliding on the eyeliner you used to wear to work, out with friends, in your old life felt surreal and comforting at the same time.
You’ve even done your hair, though it could be nicer. You haven’t bothered with anything but hasty brushing in the past few months, and sometimes you’re too lethargic and frustrated to even bother with that. But it’s styled, a bit elegant--if you do say so yourself.
You glance down at the trio of lipsticks he set on the counter earlier. They’re not a brand you ever wore--they’re expensive, something out of reach for anyone used to pulling cheap store lipsticks out of a bin. The center lipstick is a bold red, and your hand reaches for it. Brief memories of your mother gushing about red lipstick come to mind; she always associated red lipstick with elegance, the fanciest of events, and you’re inclined to agree. It feels smooth, impossibly so; praise be to expensive formulas.
After blotting it with toilet paper--old habits--you step back to stare at yourself in the mirror. The dress fits you beautifully. The fabric is soft, refined, showing you off in all the right places. You’ve taken your time with your hair, your makeup, and you really do look nice. You bring your wrist up to your nose and sniff--the perfume Chrollo had picked out for you was elegant, subtle. Rose petals and apples and white musk.
You feel a wave of nostalgia come over you that you push down. It’s too bad you’re going to the theater with your captor and not with your friends. Or your mom.
“Are you finished?” His voice calls from the bedroom.
The thought of Chrollo seeing you like this makes you feel uncomfortably anxious for reasons you can’t quite pinpoint. The gown is not exactly risque, but it’s designed to highlight your features--and while he has never crossed the hardest line in regards to your personal autonomy, he wasn’t beyond stealing kisses from your unwilling lips when the mood struck him. He said it was to help you adjust to the relationship, as if kissing you against your will would make you love him.
You don’t answer him and instead give your hair a final touch up before heading out the open bathroom door.
Chrollo is standing next to the vanity, wearing an elegant suit, primped and polished--and handsome. You can’t help but freeze in place when he gives you a once-over, slow and deliberate.
“You look beautiful,” he says, finally, a slight breathiness to his voice. There’s an authentic tone to his voice again, and it makes you feel queasy.
You try to ignore the way your skin feels heated and shrug, crossing your arms over your chest as you approach him.
“Are we going now?”
He gives a soft smile. “Almost. One more thing.”
You watch curiously as he pulls out a jewelry box from his pocket, then opens it to reveal two glittering sapphire earrings. You can’t hold back a little gasp, but when you reach for them, Chrollo holds the box out of reach.
“I’ll do the honors.”
You want to say no. But you’re so close to leaving, so you simply stare to the side as he steps behind you. He touches your ear--and you flinch. He chuckles quietly and you ignore the blossoming heat across your cheeks, both from his closeness and your reaction, while he fixes the earrings into your ears.
When he’s finished, you look up. The visage in the mirror seems like a familiar stranger. The feeling you get at seeing yourself so dressed up is familiar in some way. You think back to going to shows with your friends, or going to the ballet with your mom; your little ring-clad hand gripping hers as she hurried you past alleys on the way to the theater, your sparkling white party dress shedding glitter onto the streets. You can practically feel the way the theater always hums with anticipation, the unusual heaviness of feeling alone in a crowded room as your friends left you with the tickets while they grabbed a drink or two.
The sight of Chrollo behind you in the mirror, watching you with clear intent, breaks you away.
“We’re leaving now.”
***
“I… actually really like The Sleeping Beauty ballet.”
You feel awkward. It’s certainly not the first time you’ve been in a car with Chrollo, whether your forcibly pressed against him in the back seat or in the front, blasting the radio in an attempt to prevent him from striking up a conversation as he drives you to some new destination.
But it’s the first time you’ve been in the car for reasons other than transporting you to a new ‘home.’ The first time that you’ve both been dressed up; Chrollo’s cologne wafts gently over to you, and you can’t deny that he knows how to pick a good scent.
It’s also the first time you’ve felt conversation to be a necessity, if only to find out where you were going (the opera house) and what you were seeing (a ballet).
In fact, the news of the performance makes you sit up straighter in your seat. You feel a ping of excitement, and without thinking you share it out loud.
“That’s actually the first ballet I ever saw with my mom. Do you know what company it is?”
He tells you, and you bite your lip anxiously, squaring your shoulders against the back of the seat as you start to imagine the night ahead. Then you remember the smooth red lipstick and force your mouth to relax.
You talk, instead, to keep yourself from ruining your lipstick with your nervous habit. “I’ve heard about this company’s version. Well,” you continue, “I wanted to see them perform this a few years ago, but tickets sold out so fast. I couldn’t afford the scalper prices.”
“How nice that I have tickets for this performance, then.”
“Right!” Your pitch is higher and you internally cringe. You shouldn’t sound so excited. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, but he seems focused on the road.
As the drive continues, you keep talking. Without realizing it, your voice becomes lighter, easier, and even you don’t know why you’re speaking so freely. You talk more to him on this stretch of road than you have within months, sarcastic replies and bitter responses notwithstanding.
You talk about ballet. You talk about the history of the show. You talk about this company’s costumes--you saw them displayed in a store window and wow, were they gorgeous--and as the words come out, you feel lighter. Less bogged down by your protective anger, less heavy and hateful.
Happiness.
It’s something that you haven’t felt in a long time. It’s a feeling that your stomach rebels against, not welcoming the sudden intrusion of lightness and lift while you’re sitting in a car next to your captor. But you push your stomach’s rebellious nature down and force yourself to remember that tonight, you get to escape onto the stage; for a little while, you can be somewhere else.
Even being in the car tonight is doing wonders for you, you think. You must be getting close--the lights of the city are brighter and there’s throngs of nicely dressed people walking down the street towards what you realize is the theater. You see a little girl holding a woman’s hand and your stomach clenches in bitter nostalgia, but the thought is pushed aside quickly enough when Chrollo pulls into a valet circle.
You don’t have time to open the door before he opens it for you, extending his arm like a gentlemen.
“Ready?”
**
You’re buzzing on the way home. Not just from the champagne--three glasses, Chrollo having subtly waved away the usher approaching your opera box with your requested fourth. Not just from the show, which was magical and lush and everything you hoped it would be. Not just from the fact that you had a night out, away from the stuffiness of whatever luxury suite you were trapped in.
But from the thrill of feeling something, anything, other than your own deep despair and bitterness. You laughed in delight at the sillier moments, the bright-yellow Canary fairy and her trills; you cried at Aurora’s pleading vision to be set free, the first time you’ve cried at something other than your own situation in ages; you clapped and even, in the end, let yourself shout out a cheery “Brava!”
Even Chrollo seemed different during the evening. No forcible hand-holding or other niceties that had given you anxiety earlier in the evening. No unbearable condescension, only the hint of a smirk during the intermission when you--instinctively, you insisted to yourself, not because you liked his company--began an excited conversation about the events of the first Act. Did he like this part? What about the orchestra? And oh, this variation, didn’t he think it was a bit too overdone on the part of the dancer, but she more than recovered by the end?
When Chrollo helps you out of the car into the private parking garage, the air is cool and crackling; everything still feels electric, the way it always does when you come home from an event. Though as the doorman opens the private elevator leading to the condominium above, you dimly remind yourself you’re not coming home, exactly.
The swift ride up the elevator leaves you feeling dizzy. Your mind feels like it’s crashing, suddenly. From the champagne, maybe--but something else, too.
The elevator doors open into the condo suite you share with Chrollo and it hits you as you take the first step inside: you’re back to where you started the night. Trapped. The transporting, glittering events of the evening fall off your shoulders like a worn coat; you’re left once again only with yourself, with your present situation--and with Chrollo.
Your cheeks feel hot and you know the tears are coming before you feel them prickle at your eyes. The urge to wipe them away is masked only by the remembrance that you’re wearing makeup, but that doesn’t stop it from running as they begin to flow down your cheeks.
It burns, and you start for the bathroom, intent on scrubbing your face and ripping off the dress--but your entire body jerks back as Chrollo grabs your arm and prevents you from taking another step.
“Let go,” you say, voice empty of anything but the desperate need to be in the bathroom, to clean your face, to be alone with your returning misery.
He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you back, forcing you to stand up straight as you fruitlessly fight against his grip.
“You’re crying.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that,” you murmur, voice edged not with bitterness this time, but sorrow. You don’t want to look at him. He’s seen you cry countless times, but you hate the way he looks at you when you do.
“Tell me why.”
You finally force yourself to look up at him, eyes blinking away the stinging tears, and you’re not surprised by his intensive gaze. He’s studying you. Analyzing. Like you’re some sort of book he can read and discover.
Maybe the champagne has loosened your tongue; maybe the night itself has loosened the tight-lipped hold your bitterness has on you. Whatever it is, you confess.
“I was happy,” you say, voice wobbling with tears. “I was--happy on the way there. I was happy at the theater. I was happy on the way home. I--I haven’t…” you rub at your eyes, smearing eyeshadow onto your fingertips. “I haven’t felt that way in months. And now we’re back and I don’t feel it anymore.” Your voice finally cracks with your last words, and you cover your eyes with one hand as crushing feelings of sadness sweep over you.
He pulls you closer to him, and you can’t fight away from his physical strength.
“Let go,” you plead. “I just want to be alone.”
You jerk your face away when he strokes your cheek with his free hand.
“Alone? Whatever for? My hypothesis for tonight was correct.”
His words make you stop pulling. Hypothesis? You sniffle and try to get your bearings, try to brace yourself. But you’re tired, and sad, and your head is swimming.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He places his free hand on the back of your head and leans in closer. The heat of his skin and the pressure of his grip makes a flushed warmth bloom across your skin.
“You see,” he whispers, his lips ghosting against the side of your ear. “You can be happy with me, after all.”
#yandere chrollo#yandere hunter x hunter#chrollo x reader#chrollo lucilfer#yandere#afterwitch writes
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Chicago Med Rp Meme
inspired by @whomuses
“What’s the difference between God and a doctor? God knows he’s not a doctor.”
“Every dumb, mean, stupid, vicious thing gets a light shown on it. The world would be a much better place, a much safer place, if people would just shut up.”
“Pride. It can literally kill you”
“People think sex is a touchy subject. Believe me, money is a lot touchier”
“You can’t erase things, but you can write over them.”
“Yeah, younger patients are the hardest. Very tough to draw a line between an actual disorder and good old fashioned adolescence.”
“Losing hope is not a sign of mental illness. It’s a sign of being human.”
“I became a doctor to save peoples lives!”
“In any case, the problem’s been resolved, and we can get back to business, saving lives, making money.”
“Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not after you.”
“Another maniac going crazy in a theater. This the world we live in?”
“Try thinking like a doctor and not like a pregnant woman.”
You have my permission to go ahead as long as you can do so safely.”
Oh my gosh. Is everyone all right?”
Nobody’s dead.”
Great. When were you going to tell me?”
Maybe I just got tired of hearing the sound of my own voice.”
You hired a nurse for a reason.”
It's my decision! And I don't appreciate you trying to recruit more soldiers to your cause.”
No, I don't want to talk to my husband directly. That's why I hired a lawyer.”
I know you judge me, but in my country I was persecuted. I had to flee.”
I'm a surgeon. Show some respect.”
Those girls would have gone to someone else. At least I know what I'm doing.”
Hate me. Hate me as much as you want, bro. But I ain't walking away til I geet your consent for the surgery.”
Stop telling me things I already know.”
That you got off the black market because you don't have a license.”
I thought you said they were trying to help.”
How long have you been an alcoholic?”
You don't beat around the bush.”
They didn't do anything wrong. They shouldn't be punished.”
we can't let this play out in the media. The court that's really going to matter is the court of public opinion.”
That's quite a look. You enjoying hitting the lanes?”
It's mostly a fashion statement, but I do enjoy rolling a ball once in a while.”
Good. One less crisis to worry about but this guy's still trying to die.”
So you're putting me in purgatory instead?”
Okay. So we're on safe ground legally. What about morally?”
You are, but we're running out of time.”
How are your 15 minutes going?”
Yep. And two vaccinated, consenting adults.”
An innocent little baby had to suffer while there are a bunch of crooks in this world who get away with everything.”
For a soldier to ask for help, for a soldier to be afraid they might be one of 'them', that they could fall apart at any second.”
I think of people like you, people who served over there. You have so much courage, but when it comes to saving yourselves...”
Poor little girl. What did she ever do to deserve this?”
Is this gonna keep happening? Is it gonna get worse?”
I would too. That's why I like it down here. I'm -- I'm not good with suffering. It's just...too much up there.”
Nice fricking move. Right on sister. I knew you were smart.”
He's given me so much. How do I ever pay that back? “
How do you know you haven't already?”
I guess we're all given our measure of suffering. God's medicine”
I promise, from now on, I'll never argue with you.”
You will be an attending, so you won't have to argue with me. You can just boss me around.”
My fear is, is that you're gonna find a way to get yourself kicked off the staff. I'm curious to see how long it'll take.”
You dope. Nobody overrules him.”
Damned if you do and damned if you don't. I admit, it's a bit of a double standard. What can I say?”
I'm pretty sure that if that were me, I'd be raked over the coals by you right now.”
It doesn't have to make sense to us. If he believed he would longer if his wounds were dressed in green bandages, then we give him green bandages.”
Oh, come on, they barely have the energy to play canasta...whatever that is.”
It's not my job to listen. I'm a doctor. It's my job to decide what's best for him. “
You know, there's a reason for that. There's this new study out, says dating can lead to marriage.”
It's just a friendly dinner.”
Wonderful, the guy enforcing the rules is the one who's always breaking them.”
I suspect it was ego more than altruism. Great surgeons know the balance. You're confident, not arrogant. I like that,”
he totally snores, but I don't mind. Oh, he does this thing where he shoots his dirty boxers into the hamper like a buzzer beater. [beat] Anyway, it's cute.”
totally snores, but I don't mind. Oh, he does this thing where he shoots his dirty boxers into the hamper like a buzzer beater. [beat] Anyway, it's cute.
And discipline? Is that a nice way of saying I'm a tight ass?”
What you're doing may be legal, but it sure as hell isn't right. “
This is an emotional process. I can understand you're upset.”
Is this a happy ending?”
you think you know better...sounds like something you'd bust my balls for.”
This is why we all worked so hard to send you to medical school? So you could keep a bunch of party animals from getting hangovers?”
You've got to be kidding me. Ginger Spice is our doctor!”
Some idiot in supply added a zero to my order, so instead of four dozen, I...”
I always kind of envied the kids who went to church. You know, they were part of something. It's like they had their own tribe.
Oh, family drama, now you're in my wheelhouse!
You're family. We rise and fall together.
Only as often as the state requires.
So they ever give you guys breaks?
Then again, how many jobs are there where you literally get to save lives?
Hey, take it from a former alter boy. Baptism's a piece of cake. A lot easier than a bris.
But I'm not religious. Wouldn't it be hypocritical?
Eh, think of it like a vaccination. Do it and get it over with.
Do you know the single greatest challenge that I face is trying to convince people that depression isn't a sign of weakness?
You're a good doctor. The world needs good doctors, you ass.
You don't like Chicago style popcorn?
Mixing caramel and cheese flavors?
Sweet and salty. It's the greatest duo.
you're my brother, and I love you. But you need to grow up.
Why do you always take things out on me?
You know, when I'm faced with a snarling dog, I try to remind myself it's self-preservation that's making him show his teeth.
You don't have to show me how smart you are. And you don't have to please me. Just learn.
I've been an ass. Not just today -- since last week. Before that. I should not have yelled at you.
You? Wrong? Amazing.
Boy's will always want to be better than their fathers, which is precisely what their fathers want.
Oh, come on -- sport's the oldest form of group therapy. We yell, we scream. Testosterone spikes. Every now and then, we even get to believe in a miracle.
People do that sometimes. They sense they're at the end and they just want to die in a clean bed.
He saw something. You'll have to ask him when he wakes up.
This is not about you. This about *her* and what *she* wanted.
#open rp#open to all#open to anyone#open meme#ask meme#open to anybody#rp meme#roleplay meme#ask prompt#memes#chicago med#chicago med rp#chicago med roleplay#hospital rp#hospital roleplay#open to mutuals
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The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Third Year
Series Masterlist || Read on AO3
Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.
Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.
Chapter Words: 7.290K
Chapter Notes: Wanda x Reader friendship is here. And more about the world history. I’m pretty sure this is the last chapter where things are easy going. Just like Harry Potter, things start to get dark during four year. Good reading to everyone, i hope you like the story so far.
Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia // @ichala
//-// x //-// //-// x //-//
Your list of materials is much longer in the third year.
Tony complains that you shouldn't have taken so many classes, but you are so curious to explore the areas of magic that you can't help it.
This time, Mantis meets you in the diagonal alley. You were hoping to spend some time with Gamora and Nebula as well, but once you get a glimpse of their father, you know that's not going to happen.
Thanos is a tall, muscular man, and has a permanent aggressive look on his face. He also kept his hands on the shoulders of his two daughters while they were waiting to be attended to at Flourish and Blotts. You also noticed that your friends were wearing very beautiful and remarkably expensive dark green capes, and just like their father's outfit, they had a bundle of a silver snake. That was the first time you understood what Slytherin pride meant.
"He's scary." Mantis commented softly beside you. You nodded in agreement. Groot, who was a little bigger since you saw him last year, jumped on your shoulder, sitting next to your ear. You smiled at the creature before looking forward again.
You and Mantis were standing at the entrance of store, and saw your friends through the window. You gave up the idea of complementing them when you saw their father.
"Let's restock the potions list first, Mantis." You tell her. "Then we'll buy our books."
You meet Tony again at the Leaky Cauldron after you finish. He hides something from you quickly, but you are distracted by an apple muffin flying towards you, and you don't ask.
Bucky was staying at the Leaky Cauldron because his house had a magical accident. His father said something about a persistent spell flood. Since the rest of Bucky's family were muggle, only he and his father were staying there, solving the problem while Bucky's sisters were at his aunt's house.
Since everyone needed to buy the materials for the new school year, Tony asked you to join his friends when you were done buying your stuff.
After lunch with everyone, Mantis said goodbye to you, and you returned Groot to her hands.
You led her to the exit of the bar, but as you walked back to the table, a conversation caught your attention.
"I'm telling you, they saw him in Sokovia." A bearded man whispered. He looked so nervous, you couldn't help but pay attention. The woman standing next to him, a cup of a strange liquor in her hands, rolled her eyes.
"That's miles away, Thomas." She said. "If Korvac gets anywhere near London, the ministry will send him back to Azkaban in two seconds."
"He's already escaped once, Sara." You rebut the man.
You frown at the conversation. Walking back, you have a thoughtful frown on your face, and Tony teases you.
You get distracted by Steve's jokes about the coming year, and forget all about it.
It's only after you've packed your bag, during dinner, that you remember.
"I heard something strange today." You say casually as Tony and your father dine beside you. "Some folks in the Leaky Cauldron were talking about someone escaping from Azkaban."
Your father chokes. Tony stares at you, and ducks his head when your father looks at him angrily. Howard gaze softens when he looks at you however.
"Honey, who told you that?"
You shrug.
"No one told me dad." You reply. "I ended up overhearing two strangers talking about it. I never knew about anyone escaping from Azkaban before, it seemed important."
Tony kicks you under the table, and you frown in confusion. Your father takes a deep breath.
"Honey, listen to me carefully, will you?" He begins, and you worry at his serious tone. "There are important things going on at Daddy's work. Things that could be dangerous." He says and you look at him in surprise. "You and your brother are too young to be getting into such matters, and I hope you will trust me to keep you both safe."
"Yes, dad." Tony assures, but you remain silent. A moment later, you add:
"Daddy, is there anything I can do to help you?"
"No honey." He says taking back his fork.
"It's okay to tell me what's going on, I won't be scared. I can help..."
"Enough!" He exclaims angrily punching the table. You jump lightly in your chair, startled. Your father doesn't look at you. "I don't want you to hear anything about this anymore. You two are children, and it's dangerous. Have I made myself clear?"
You look at Tony, but he is glaring at the plate in front of you.
Swallowing the urge to cry, you get up, hurrying to run to your room.
Your father calls you several times, but you don't answer.
A few minutes after you are in your bed, he appears in your room. His posture is much gentler than before, and he kneels down beside your bed.
"Honey, hey." He calls to you. You keep your face in the pillow, and he sighs. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." He says, and with your silence, he continues. "Can you forgive me?"
It takes a few seconds, but you look at him, and nod. Howard smiles faintly.
"You and your brother are the most important things in my life." He says fondly. "And I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me."
"Dad, you can't control what is in the rest of the world."
Your father chuckles lightly.
"Yeah I know." He says. "Damn, I wanted you to stay a little girl forever, so you wouldn't be so smart."
You laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly.
"You're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" You ask and your father sighs, looking away.
"It's nothing that will affect you honey." He says. "It's just problems of the magical world. I don't want you meddling in something like that. Not at this age."
You sit down on the bed next, raising your pinky to your father.
"I swear I won't pry into such business if you promise to tell me if things get serious enough for me to know."
Her father laughs, raising his own pinky then.
"I promise, kiddo."
You both laugh as you take the oath, and your father hugs you next. When he lets go and stands up, you pull his hand away.
"Apologize to Tony, Daddy." You ask surprising him slightly. "He doesn't like it when you yell either."
Your father sighs, bending down to kiss your forehead. He asked you to go to sleep before he closed the door.
//-//
It is very cold when you arrive at Hogwarts.
But you don't care because all your friends link arms and walk together, making you laugh at the confused looks you get when the other students notice the small row.
Over dinner, your mood changes quickly however.
"I imagine it has come to the attention of many students here, especially the older ones, the recent untoward events in the magical world." Principal Harkness began during the announcement of the new school year. She had a serious and authoritative tone, and deep dark circles under her eyes. You have never seen her like this before. "But for those of you who are not aware, the dark wizard known as Korvac escaped from Azkaban a few months ago." The hall exploded into murmurs at the mention. You saw Professor Strange lock his jaw, probably disagreeing that such a topic should be broached with eleven-year-olds. "After much consideration, the Ministry of Magic thought it best to apply additional security to the castles."
"So, starting next week, we will have special guests at the Hogwarts castles; The ministry has determined that aurors and Azkaban guards will be guarding the outside of the grounds."
The crowd erupted in boos as soon as the words echoed in the hall. Your Hufflepuff colleagues remarked in horror that the dementors, the guards of Azkaban, were terrifying, and you sought your brother's gaze at the Slytherin table, but he was looking earnestly at the principal.
Agatha sighed impatiently, and the hall fell silent. She asked everyone to be careful with the guards in Azkaban, not to give them reason to fight back. And then she returned to the daily announcements as if nothing had happened.
You didn't eat very well after that.
History of Magic with Professor Okoye was one of the hardest classes in school.
You were hoping to get decent grades this year, but you were assigned to be with Peter as your pair, so you knew you would have to work for two, as your friend had no interest at all in that subject.
"Why don't you try to pay attention?" You asked slightly annoyed as you made your notes. Quill was drawing small dragons in his notebook.
"I want to be a famous Quidditch player, I don't need to know the history of the Goblin revolution for that."
You sighed, turning your attention back to the blackboard. Several minutes after class had begun, a Gryffindor student raised his hand.
"Professor Okoye, may I ask you a question?" it was Thor Odinson, and he seemed to have grown at least twenty inches over the summer. You noted that his hair was also longer when you looked back, wondering who was speaking.
"Of course, Odinson." The teacher said with a gentle smile. Thor cleared his throat as he lowered his hand, seeming to hesitate.
"Could you tell us about the Mephisto followers?"
The room fell absolutely silent at the mention of the name, and many students looked at Thor with wide eyes. The smile on Professor Okoye's face completely disappeared.
"Where did you hear that name, boy?" she asked sternly, Thor swallowed dryly.
"M-my father, ma'am." He replied. "I heard him send a bawler to the ministry quoting that name. When I asked, he told me to study the history of the wizarding world. I thought I would ask you because I couldn't find anything in the books."
The room looked at the teacher expectantly. Okoye sighed, seeming to decide whether to talk about it or not.
"Listen to me carefully please." She asked as she walked around the tables. "Some years ago long before any of you were born, there was a sorcerer who made all the wrong choices. He sought immeasurable power, and was never satisfied with his own abilities. And many other wizards believed that the quest for ultimate power was something worth dying for. When this wizard became a symbol of power and cruelty, he named himself Mephisto."
Her classmates exchanged startled looks, but the teacher continued to tell.
"The dark wizards and witches who supported this quest became known as the Followers of Mephisto, or Walkers of Death. The magical ministries around the world banded together to put an end to the group, and there was a great battle, where most of these wizards were imprisoned or killed in a duel."
"What happened to Mephisto?" Thor asks suddenly, interrupting the narration. The teacher hesitates, but then gives a reassuring smile.
"He's dead, of course." She assures.
"My mother says he was never found." Added another classmate, you think her name is Valkyrie, but you've never talked to her. Much buzz runs through the room at her utterance, and Professor Okoye twists her fingers nervously.
"When the Walkers of Death were eliminated, Mephisto lost his power." She tells seriously. "The last person who faced him is related to someone in this room actually."
Professor Okoye turns to you, and you want to sink into your chair, feeling your heart soar.
"Auror Howard Stark was the last sorcerer to fight Mephisto before his demise. Thirteen years ago." She says and you feel all the stares on you. "But that's enough from this matter for today, students. Mephisto's story is taboo in our witch community because of the thousands of lives that were lost during that period." She adds, "I hope you will be respectful about the memory of those victims, and not comment on such a thing, or mention the name of this despicable wizard again."
The teacher closes the subject after that, looking upset. You can't pay attention to the class again when she goes back to talking about the magical revolution.
//-//
"Did you knew about that?" You ask angrily when Tony looks unimpressed when you approach him in the third floor hallway, after searching all over the school for him.
He looks tired.
"Stop talking so loud, will you?" He asks looking around. "Of course I knew, I've been researching this story for months."
You frown in confusion, and Tony rolls his eyes leaning against the bookshelf next to him.
"I didn't tell you anything because you're only thirteen!" He adds nervously. "That's not children's business."
"It is my business if it involves our family!". You retort angrily. A group of students walk past you, looking at you curiously, but Tony just pretends to be admiring the trophies until they leave.
"Look, I don't really know what happened, but dad used to be an auror when mom was alive." He recounts. "And then he took on this powerful sorcerer, and mom died when you were born. He became an inventor, switched departments in the mystery, and nobody talks about this Mephisto guy nowadays."
"Do you know what this has to do with the wizard who escaped from Azkaban?" you ask with your arms crossed, Tony gives a chuckle.
"Isn't it obvious, sis?" he retorts wryly. "Korvac was Mephisto's greatest ally at that time. And he escaped from the most secure prison in the world. A lot of people think that means the walkers are getting back in business again."
"My god Tony, why didn't dad tell us any of this?" You ask worriedly and Tony laughs humorlessly, looking upset.
He straightens his posture and points to the glass on the trophy shelf that was propped up.
"And there's more." He says. "Take a look at that."
You turn your face to stare at the objects that were stored there. Most were trophies, but there were also pictures of the Quidditch teams from previous years. Tony is pointing to one of those.
"No way." You whispered as you see it. In the caption on the board, it read "Howard Stark and Erik Lehnsherr receiving awards for their honorable service to the school." It was your father and your teacher, probably in their senior year, and they seemed both content. The magical photograph showed them hugging each other by the shoulders, huge smiles on their faces, and two golden cups in their hands.
"Yes, little sister." Tony said also looking at the picture. "Dad and Magneto were friends in school days. I wonder what happened to Professor Lehnsherr to make him so bitter. He looks happy in that picture."
The sound of the bell announcing the next period makes you jump in fright, as you were completely distracted by the photograph in front of you.
"Let's talk about this later, Tony, I have charms now and..."
"No way, Y/N!" Tony interrupted frowning. "That's none of your business. Dad told me that you promised to stay out of it, and I agree with him. You're too young!"
"Oh and you think he'll like knowing you're investigating this whole story?" You retort and Tony sighs, looking away, "That's what I thought.
"I'm not going to get you mixed up in this story."
"Fine, I'll find out on my own, then."
"Y/n..."
"See you, Tony."
//-//
Having dementors in the castle is really scary.
It's been two weeks since classes started, and with the first Quidditch game of the year approaching, you're pretty anxious.
You didn't make much progress in your research during those days. None of the professors wanted to say anything about Mephisto's time, and you lost fifteen points when you tried to ask Professor Lehnsherr about his school days, for being a snoozer.
The only things you found out other than what Tony told you were what Gamora and Nebula shared with you. They mentioned that Thanos was particularly busy during the summer, and that they had never seen him go to the Ministry so often before.
You also started reading the Daily Prophet, and every day they would publish something about Korvac's escape, even if it was only to say that there was no news in the case.
When the day of the first match arrived, you ignored the strange feeling that settled on the edge of your stomach as if something bad was going to happen.
You are overjoyed when you are in the air, waiting for the match to start, and notice that all of Tony's friends, including yourself, have yellow flags in their hands to cheer you on.
Everything goes well until the end of the first half.
You noticed a bludger almost reaching your chaser team mate, Clint Barton and moved forward to defend him many meters above the stadium. Because it was raining, your visibility was very poor. You knocked the ball away, but lost sight of Clint, although you heard him shout a thank you. As you dived down again, lightning exploded beside you, and you jumped in fright, feeling your ear whistle as you became completely disoriented.
As you began to get used to your surroundings again, you felt your body become completely tense. The cloud in front of you was almost a face shape, it looked like someone with horns or maybe wearing a tiara. The image dissolved in the next second, and you felt a strange chill run through your body. Releasing the broom handle only to hug your arms, you looked down, the whole team many meters away.
When you tried to join them, something came in your way.
Dementors must have been the scariest thing you had ever seen in your life. And there was one of them right in front of you. You widened your eyes in shock, and the creature looked straight at you.
Losing your strength quickly, you felt yourself slipping off the broom. A feeling as if you had been wrapped in a very painful spell overtook your body as you fell.
//-//
You woke up in a jolt, and warm hands pushed you back into bed.
"Relax, kid." Your brother spoke with a smile. "I swear I'll actually forbid you to play at some point."
"What happened?" you asked confused. All of your friends and Tony's friends around your bed.
"You fell off the broom, damn it." He retorted and you rolled your eyes.
"Yeah but there was a dementor up there..."
"Yeah, everyone saw it." Tony interrupted looking annoyed. "Professor Harkness kicked everyone out of the stadium after Professor Strange conjured up the patronus."
"I have never seen Professor Strange so angry." Gamora remarked next.
"Oh, there's something else." Natasha warned moving around the crowd to stand beside you on the bed. "Your broom fell into the Whomping Willow, and well. It' s right here."
In Nat's arms were the remains of what had once been your Nimbus 2000. You sighed in displeasure, but at least you could ask Jarvis to buy you another one.
After you were released from the nurse's office, Principal Harkness was waiting for you in the hallway. She waved for all your other colleagues to go their ways, as she escorted you to the Hufflepuff common room.
"Tell me, dear, are you feeling all right?" She asked tenderly. You nodded in agreement as you walked.
When you reached an empty hallway, she stopped walking, and touched your shoulder so that you would do the same. She knelt at your height and looked deep into your eyes.
"Tell me what you saw up there."
" Professor, I don't remember..." You started to say, but then fell silent, immediately recalling what you saw as you gaze the purple glow in front of you. It was as if your thoughts came out of your lips before you even thought to say them. "I saw an image in the clouds, it was like a horned creature or someone wearing a crown. Then the dementor reached me and I felt an immediate chill and unhappiness. I had the feeling that I was wrapped in a sensation of pain as I fell down."
The professor seemed to absorb every one of your words. She smiled then, her eyes returning to their normal color quickly, making you believe you had imagined the whole thing.
"Thank you dear." She said. "Let's keep this between us, okay?"
When you two walked back, you didn't remember any conversation at all.
//-//
Your first trip to Hogsmeade is amazing.
You buy two bags full of candy at the Honeydukes, and then you and your friends go to the Three Broomsticks, to have some buttery beer.
Quill seems to have become friends with Pietro Maximoff during Quidditch practice, because as soon as they see each other, they greet with a hug.
You ignore the feeling of nervousness that settles on the pit of your stomach when your gaze meets Wanda's.
Your friends don't mind sharing a table with the Maximoff twins, and that's how you end up sitting a few feet from Wanda, Gamora's watchful eye on you trying to understand why you're so quiet and flushed.
"Everyone is so nervous about the dementors at the castle, that I think we should try to do something fun. Like throw a party." Quill suggested to the group. Mantis looked excited.
"I think we could do something before Christmas." Gamora suggested and the group agreed.
"Does anyone have any idea where we can have this party? Quill asked." Since we are from different houses, maybe the common rooms are not a good option. I heard that the Slytherin kids don't really like the Hufflepuffs.”
Quill's teasing makes Wanda roll her eyes, but the rest of the table giggles. You look away to your cup.
"We could use some empty room on the seventh floor." Pietro suggested, and Quill gave an excited exclamation.
"This is a great idea." He said. "If the older students are going to participate, we can get some prefect to cover for us."
Quil looks at you and Mantis has to poke your shoulder for you to notice and pay attention.
"Sorry, what is it?" You ask when you notice all the looks on you.
"Can't you convince Steve Rogers to join us? He's your brother's boyfriend."
You laugh, nodding in agreement
"Okay folks, I'll try to call them all."
On the way back to the castle, after you spent the afternoon talking about the most diverse random subjects and telling jokes, you leave your hands in your pocket, because it is very cold.
Quill and Pietro start playing tag, and Wanda walks alone. You hurry up to join her.
"Hey." You greet with a smile, Wanda also has her hands in her pockets.
"Hey". She responds kindly.
"Is everything all right?"
"Yes?"
"Are you asking me?" You say back with humor and Wanda laughs, looking at the floor as she walks. "I… I thought it was cool this afternoon." You confess the next moment, feeling your face get hot. "With everyone together, I say. And you and your brother, it's ... you two are nice."
"Thank you, Stark." She replies with a smile. You move your fingers inside your pocket before you speak again.
"If we're going to be friends, you can use my first name". You say and Wanda looks at you, but you keep looking forward.
"Are you sure?" She asks after a moment. You frown without understanding. "Are you sure you want to be my friend?"
You look at Wanda in surprise. But then your expression softens.
"I thought we were going to be friends last year, but you looked angry every time you saw me."
Wanda laughed lightly, looking ahead.
"Yeah, I… I'm sorry about that." She says. "It wasn't something you did. It was just a few things I heard. And I ended up thinking that you were judging me like everyone else at that school." She tells you. "It would make sense since you saw me face the troll." Wanda whispered the last part. You bit your bottom lip before speaking again.
"You could have talked to me, you know?" You say. "I kept thinking that I had done something wrong."
Wanda said nothing, and you sighed, running your hands through your hair.
"We can forget about it and be friends now, what do you think?" You then suggested a smile on your face.
Wanda looked at you, and her green eyes cause something in your stomach to sink.
"I would like that."
"Cool." You comment breathlessly.
//-//
Being friends with Wanda is so natural that it almost surprises you.
Now whenever you sit down at the Slytherin table, there are two new members in your group of friends.
Eventually you discover that it was Quidditch that build Quill and Pietro friendship, as they stopped fighting because they were spending a lot of time training together.
At the Slytherin table, you know that Pietro and Quill receive angry looks because they are from Gryffindor, but no one has the courage to say anything to you, perhaps it is the deadly stare that Wanda gives anyone who dares to look foully at her brother.
You also succeed in inviting Steve and Tony, in addition to your brother's other friends, to the party before Christmas. Steve says that you all can use the old Astronomy room on seventh-on Saturday, and that the curfew would be at ten o'clock. The news of the party ends up spreading quickly around the school, but your friends don't seem to mind that it stopped being something small just between you guys.
When the day finally comes, you wear a comfortable jeans and sweatshirt set, realizing that it is a choice of clothes much more similar to Muggle-borns than pureblood but no one seems to care.
"Hey, you took so long" remarked Gamora as soon as you went up to the seventh floor and met her at the door of the room. "Come on, everyone is already in there"
As you took some of the non-alcoholic fruit drink that Mantis helped Quill make, you looked around the room. You waved sheepishly when your eyes met Wanda's, who was coming in. She looks very beautiful in her wine red sweater, and she smiled at you, and you didn't understand why you felt your stomach flip.
Soon everyone were all together, talking animatedly on various subjects. When Quill and Pietro started doing a dance competition, you laughed so hard that your belly was aching when they were done.
//-//
You have your first Divination class that week.
Professor Heimdall was already waiting for the students while he was sitting on a kind of ivory throne in the corner of the room, which smelled of incense that made your head spin slightly. It really was a remarkably mystical and mysterious environment, even for a magic school. The illumination was limited due to long white curtains on the walls, and there were many candles scattered around the room. Mantis whispered that this kind of thing was done to increase concentration when working with this kind of magic.
"Welcome to our first meeting on Divination, students, the most complex and unstable of magical arts." began the professor as soon as everyone was seated at the tables spread around the tower. "I must warn you that if you seek answers to your most personal questions here, you will most likely not find them. There is no stability in this subject."
Some students commented softly among themselves, but no one seemed willing to contradict the professor, his yellow eyes roaming over everyone in the room.
"Let's begin today's class with an introduction to the basics of study in divination." He warns, and with a flick of his wand, the cupboards at the back of the room open, and from there several sets of cups fly out to all the tables. Then the professor touches his wand to the teapot on the table, and it multiplies into four pairs, flying around to serve everyone.
When everyone has their cups full, Professor Heimdall goes to the small blackboard, and begins to explain how divination works. You hurry to start writing it down.
Many minutes later, when you have finished your tea, Mantis pokes your shoulder.
"Let me look at yours and you do mine?" she asks and you nod, handing her your cup. You clear your throat, looking intently at the dregs of tea in Mantis' cup.
"I don't see anything." You grumble, trying to concentrate. The powder doesn't seem to form anything.
"Remember to check the symbols in your books." Warned Professor Heimdall aloud the next moment. You took a deep breath, running your fingers across the paper as you tried to identify the images.
"Mantis, let's switch, I don't think I'm getting anything..." You start to say softly looking at your book, when you glance at your friend however, you frown in confusion. She has her gaze glazed on your cup, one hand covering her mouth, "Mantis, what happened?"
She gasps softly, and you straighten your position as you notice a thick tear running down her cheek, feeling your heart soar with worry.
"I'm... I'm so sorry." She sighs breathlessly, dropping her cup on the table. The noise attracts everyone's attention, but Mantis is getting up the next moment, and running out of the room. You stand up, but Professor Heimdall puts his hand on your shoulder.
"Don't worry, miss Stark." He says. "It's common for those more sensitive to divination to have that kind of reaction in their first contact with the spirit world." He explains with a tender look. You don't understand why, but his voice calms you. "Go back to your activity, I will talk to your friend."
He waves to the rest of the room next, and then leaves. You sit back down, exchanging worried glances with Gamora and Nebula who are at the table in front of you.
Your first action is to look at the cup that Mantis has thrown on the table, but the impact has broken it at the bottom, and the liquid has run down the cloth. You sigh in dissatisfaction, using your wand to clean up the mess.
When class is over, Gamora and Nebula quickly join you.
"Any idea what that was about?" Gamora asks as you walk together through the castle.
"No, she just got a glazed look in her eyes, and then she ran off." You count. "I'll try to ask her in potions class."
"Maybe she saw some evil omen." Nebula comments, and Gamora elbows her in the stomach. "Ouch."
You frown worriedly.
"Does that mean something bad is going to happen to me?"
Gamora denies with her head, forcing a smile as if trying to reassure you.
"Bad omens can be many things, even something silly, like losing a sock in your room." She says and you leave your hands in your pockets, not feeling reassured by this information.
"Yeah, but Mantis wouldn't cry over a sock." You retort and Nebula nods in agreement, but Gamora has a serious expression.
"I'd rather think it's nothing bad." She says. "Professor Heimdall said it's normal for sensitive students to have that reaction, isn't it?" She adds and you shrug. "Maybe she's just been watching you lose a game or something, but she was so overwhelmed with having seen something, that she got emotional."
"I hope you're right." You grumble as you reach the stairs. You sigh. "See you at lunch, girls. Have a good History of Magic class."
Gamora and Nebula wave goodbye and head in the opposite direction from you after they watch the staircase move.
You hurry to avoid being late for potions.
//-//
Mantis doesn't come to the dungeon either. You poke Quill in the back as he sits down in front of you, and ask if he's seen her anywhere, but he shrugs, worried that you don't know either. You just sigh, telling him what happened in class.
"I'm glad I didn't take that subject." He says as he hears the story. "I've heard that some people learn to see the day that the other person is going to die. That's scary."
You laugh incredulously.
"That sounds like a lie."
Quil shrugs his shoulders. "That's what I heard."
You wish you could talk more, however Professor Erik entered the room the next moment, and everyone fell silent. You tried to forget about the divination class by concentrating on making your poison antidote correctly next.
//-//
You only found Mantis at lunchtime.
Or rather, she found you.
You had just come out of charm class, and she was waiting for you outside. You looked at her with surprise and concern, but she just smiled, looking much more relaxed than earlier.
"I'm sorry I disappeared." She says. "Professor Heimdall thought it best that I get some rest, and then he taught me some things about aural sensitivity."
"I don't know what that means." You comment making her smile.
"It doesn't matter." She says. "I'm sorry for scaring you earlier."
You shake your head.
"Mantis, come on, no need to stress about it." You retort. "I was worried about you, and I'm sure it wasn't your fault."
Mantis smiles, looking forward. You bite the inside of your cheek, finding her strangely calm and distant.
"Do you remember what you saw in my cup?" You ask hesitantly, and a small glint passes through Mantis' eyes, but then she smiles quietly, denying it.
"It was no great thing, I believe." She says. "Professor Heimdall has assured me that it must have been just a bad memory, and that there is nothing to worry about."
You frown, but something in Mantis' expression tells you that she just won't talk about it anymore. Not wanting to make your friend uncomfortable, you don't press the issue again.
//-//
It's Christmas again, and you don't go home.
This year Hogwarts is much emptier than it usually is, and you know that it's because of the dementors.
The vast majority of the families, even those who usually leave their children at Hogwarts, have asked the students to return home. Your father briefly mentioned in his last letter how there were many requests for shift changes during the holiday period.
Tony also stayed in the castle, you knew he was planning to enter the forbidden section of the library, and he had told you to mind your own business when you asked if you could help.
Surprisingly, Gamora and Nebula returned home. It was very unusual because Thanos didn't like parties, but they promised to write to you. Mantis always returned home, so you just handed over your present before hugging her goodbye. Quill and the Maximoffs stayed with you.
"You know you're losing right?" you remarked with amusement as you were spending time with your friends in the Gryffindor communal room, a wizard chessboard in front of you. Quill let out an annoyed groan.
"That game is harder than it looks." He grumbled looking at the pieces. " Knight move to E3 please."
The piece moved, cursing softly that Quill was making a stupid move, and you laughed.
"Can't you see her bisbe right there you idiot? "Squinted the black item, and Quill sighed in irritation.
"You want to play by yourself, do you?" He retorted, and Pietro and Wanda who were watching you two, giggled.
"Are you talking to the game, Quill?" Pietro teased as if the boy in front of him was crazy.
After you beat Peter, it was your turn to face Pietro. He was a much better player, but he still made a lot of thoughtless moves.
Someone walked past the door, and you heard noises of footsteps, and then there was a girl joining you all.
"Hey, Monica!" Pietro greeted the girl cheerfully as soon as he saw her. The girl smiled at him. "Guys, this is Monica Rambeau, she is..."
"Professor Rambeau's daughter." Quill completes as if it is obvious. And you and Wanda smile at the girl. "Everybody knows Monica, man."
"What are you guys doing?" The girl asks curiously.
"Playing chess."
"Losing at chess, you mean right?" you tease with a smile. Pietro and Quill laugh in agreement, Wanda is distracted by the book in her hands.
"Do you want to hang out with us?" Pietro asks.
"Actually, I'm going to go outside." Monica says excitedly. "I just went in to get a coat. Darcy and I are going to make a snowman. Why don't you guys join us?"
You exchange glances with your friends. They all seem to think the same thing. And that's how you end up in the outside yards, in a snowball war.
" Back off, Pietro, I'm on your team!" You yell at the older Maximoff who has just hit you with an icy snowball to the chest. Pietro laughs.
"In war it's every man for himself!" He shouts running toward you. You laugh as you run away from him, preparing to hit Quill who is in the opposite direction.
"Hey, get down!" You heard someone shout and you turned around, obeying the order as soon as you noticed Darcy's raised arm toward you. She threw a snowball at someone behind you, and you laughed when Pietro let out an exclamation. Running toward the girl, you thanked her with a wave of your hand before running back.
After hitting Monica and Quill twice, you ran out of Pietro's reach when he appeared at your side, laughing. Stumbling, you ended up miscalculating your speed, and knocked Wanda down next.
"That's a foul." Joked Pietro as he watched you two fall, laughing along with both of you. Before he could throw a snowball at you, Quill was back and he ran. You helped Wanda up as you apologized for knocking her down.
"One point each." She says holding the snowball at chest height. You smile, and wait for her to throw the snow at you. She laughs when she has done so gently, pushing the ball against your shoulder, the icy liquid running down your blouse making you shiver slightly.
You pick up a snowball from the ground next, but when you look at Wanda, her face flushed with cold, and emerald eyes sparkling with amusement, you don't have the heart, and just smile wryly, making her look at you curiously.
"What is it?" she asks confused by the way you are just looking, making no mention of throwing the snow at her.
But the moment was broken next, when you all heard an animalistic noise nearby, and turned your heads with curiosity.
A few meters away was the guardian of the lands, Drax, leading a line of winged horses through the snow. You and your friends let out a chorus of excitement.
"Wow, look at the size of those horses." Pietro commented looking in the same direction.
"They're not horses, people!" Monica exclaimed excitedly. "They're unicorns! Mom said we were going to study them next class don't you remember?"
Only when Monica said this did you squeeze your eyes shut to get a better look, and you could see the white horns in the distance. Drax waved at you from a distance when he noticed that you all were looking. He led the horses to the area where the class on Magical Creatures was usually held, and you saw that Professor Rambeau was waiting for him.
After that, it seemed to get colder. And you all decided to go inside and have some hot chocolate, as you took your friends into the kitchens. The elves were happy to serve you sweet breads and cakes, even outside of dinner time.
//-//
On Christmas morning, all of your friends, including Tony and Natasha who was Tony's only friend to stay at Hogwarts, gathered at the same table in the main hall for the gift exchange.
"Stop fussing, boy, you'll mess up the presents!" You heard Darcy complain to Quill. She and Monica were also with you because Pietro invited them. Neither of you guys minded, because they were very nice.
"I'm just trying to get a peek." Retorted Peter raising the gift package in the air out of Darcy's reach.
"It's not your gift, so you can't look!"
You laughed at the interaction, finishing opening the package in front of you. Natasha had given you a new collection of wand care products and you loved it.
"You do need to take better care of your wand indeed." Teased Tony when he saw the gift. You laughed while waving a middle finger at him, and stood up to hug Nat in appreciation.
Most of the gifts were clothes, and candy. You bought a collection of exploding snap cards for Quill, and he was very pleased, already throwing the cards on the table to play with everyone. Pietro and Monica eventually agreed to participate, while Darcy watched them.
"That's mine right there." You said shyly to Wanda as she picked up one of the packages from the stack. "I hope you like it."
Wanda bit her lower lip in anticipation as she opened the package. And when the red scarf became visible, she fell silent, and it was your turn to be nervous.
"I know you're from Slytherin and all, but I've noticed that you really like red." You hasten to justify. "And then I saw this scarf in Hogsmeade and I remembered that day after charms class that you forgot your scarf and Pietro lent you his and so I thought it would be a good idea and..."
"I loved it." She interrupts looking at you. Her cheeks redden and a tender smile on her lips. You relax with relief immediately.
"Oh, right." You say. "Good, then."
You think you've been looking into Wanda's eyes too long, because your face is starting to heat up. But Peter gives a celebratory shout for getting the card move right, and you and Wanda look away quickly. She puts on her scarf next, and you look down at your lap to hide the silly smile that insists on escaping your lips.
//-//
When classes at Hogwarts return, the Dementors leave.
Apparently there was a big commotion in the Ministry of Magic. You hear many students commenting on this during the class break. And then there is a story in the Daily Prophet saying that Korvac was killed in combat with aurors in London, but there are also many people saying that this is a lie, and that he has run away again and the Ministry of Magic doesn't want to assume to the public.
Anyway, Headmistress Harkness removes the dementors from the castle and the atmosphere in the school improves considerably.
Nebula has a large purple mark on her left eye when she returns. Gamora tells everyone that she fell off her broomstick. You choke when she tells only you that it was Thanos who did this after he caught her snooping in his office.
"You can't tell anyone about this, okay?" She asks tearfully and you nod frantically, hugging her to calm her down. "I've never seen our father like that."
"It's okay now, Gamora." You say tightening in your embrace. "I will help you."
When you write to your father, asking what to do in a situation where the dangers are indoors, he says that Stark Mansion is big enough to accommodate your friends.
When you come home for the vacations after doing very well on your final exams, Gamora and Nebula are with you.
#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#wanda x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wandavision#wandaxreader#wandamaximoffxreader#wanda maximoff imagines#wanda imagines#elizabeth olsen x reader#harry potter au#wanda x yn#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x yn#The Scarlet Witch Prophecy
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Coffee Stains
I loved the idea of Garrus getting Shepard's name wrong so much, I continued the scene.
Read it on AO3
V A K A R I A N
Despite his utterly unforgivable lapse of judgment, Shepard had invited him up to her cabin. A few minutes ago, this was precisely the outcome he was looking for. Steal an hour to work out the stress of the day and speak a few words that were true before they both donned their armor and returned to the language of politicians and generals and universal symbols of Hope.
That was before he had said something so incredibly stupid that Shepard spilled coffee all over her uniform.
"You really thought Lola was my name, didn't you?" She showed her teeth; lips peeled upward, wrinkling the corners of her eyes in a human smile. He couldn't be in too much trouble if her eyes were wrinkled. Teeth without wrinkles were real trouble.
"I uh... I overheard you and Vega being friendly and informal, and, well, you didn't seem to mind. And he did spend an awful lot of time with you on Earth--"
"Jealous, Vakarian?" She undid her belt and untucked her shirt, working through the buttons with fascinating precision. Buttons required so many fingers to finesse. "Oh, don't be so upset. Nothing more depressing than a sad turian." She shrugged out of the damp uniform and folded it into the sanitizer, starting the machine up. "It's the hardest I've laughed in weeks. You're pretty damn funny when you're trying to be romantic."
"So, my master plan worked." He pressed his mandibles close to his face so she wouldn't see the quiver of uncertainty. "Made you laugh and got you naked and alone with me."
She continued to remove damp clothing, cycling them through the sanitizer as it finished its work with each piece. "Oh really? What's next in your strategy?" Her posture was firm and professional. The banter fell easy because it's what they always resorted to when they had nothing to say. It filled the void.
Yeah, he wasn't really in the mood either after that.
"Can't plan too far ahead. A good leader knows how to stay flexible after first contact with the Enemy."
"I thought reach was your specialty?" Her lips raised up at both corners, but her eyes didn't crinkle. Not playful. Not honest. Spirits, maybe he had screwed up.
"Look, Shepard, I'm sorry if I upset you. It was a dumb call. I should've checked my sources before acting on suspect intel."
"Rookie mistake." Her voice came out too low and breathy. Tired. She didn't meet his eyes, busying herself with folding her pants into the rack for the sterilization machine. "Big Hierarchy hotshot like you? Who gets in trouble for that?"
"Whoever promoted me to a position I proved wildly unqualified for. In the Hierarchy, you could blame the Primarch. But in this case, you'd have to find the person who promoted me to the position of your Boyfriend." He used the Human word for it, always to avoid confusion for the bounds of their relationship.
"Sounds like I'm to blame then. So," Shepard turned to him, now fully bare-skinned. She was so pragmatic. No modesty. Nothing to hide from someone who's seen it all before. "Why are you apologizing, Vakarian?"
Damn Shepard. She had the power to make people a foot and a half taller than her feel small. She could talk a raging Krogan into falling in line and convince an ancient unknowable intelligence that she was worth dealing with directly.
As much as he was not in the mood to blow off steam, he was equally not in the mood to be vulnerable. But here she was, drawing it out of him.
"I'm apologizing for never asking. Spirits, Shepard. We've had this...whatever this is for over a year. I got so caught up in sweeping you away to the top of the Presidium and asked you to be..."
"A one-turian woman?" she supplied, creases returning to her eyes.
"Yeah." He deflated. He felt the slump of his chest thoroughly robbed of the energy to project any sense of confidence. "I never even thought to ask you your name. You've always just been... Shepard."
"Names are things other people give you, Garrus." She sat on the edge of her bed, ignoring the beep of the sanitizer, demanding she retrieved her now-clean pants. "I've been Shepard since I enlisted. I've also been Green, Spark, Eyes, Browner, and Lola."
Callsigns and inside jokes. Garrus had a few of those too. Maybe if his father hadn't beaten him up the C-Sec chain, he would have been Officer Vakarian, but he'd been Garrus or Junior to ease confusion. When Shepard called him ‘Vakarian,’ it didn’t come with all the baggage. It came with indignance or annoyance, or sometimes a playful admonishment. He liked being Vakarian to her.
It wasn’t just a name he used. It felt like him, unlike the titles and code names others thrust upon him. He tolerated Archangel from his friends, from his team as joking ribs at his newfound fame became natural. But it wasn’t how he wanted to be remembered. His mind tumbled into the gloom of his failures, and his mind called up a conversation they had once had at the memorial wall. The words spilled from his mouth before he had a chance to filter them.
"What do you want on your memorial plaque?"
She stared at him; eyes round and jaw slack with her lips pinched in a small 'o'. The wrinkles drew together between her eyebrows before she laughed, deep and low and loud as she had after she'd spilled the coffee. He was sure he hadn't been funny that time.
"Stars, Garrus. You really know how to make a girl feel loved." The corners of her eyes glistened with wetness, crinkled from the force of her smile. "Commander Shepard. That's what I am here, on this ship. It's what I would have been doing if you're left behind ordering the plate. And don't let them do that posthumous promotion shit. If I wasn't worth making Captain after all this? The Alliance can take their medals and toss them at the nearest star."
Garrus crossed the room, finally permitting himself to enter fully. He pulled her pants out of the sanitizer and gathered her carefully folded uniform, returning it to her.
"Thanks." Her voice cracked under the weight of some unspoken words.
"Well, I figured you didn't want to file your report like that." He gestured to all of her, doubled over on the edge of her bed, pristine skin grafts on full display. "And the crew might think you're an impostor if they learn you aren't stitched into your uniform."
She threw her shirt at him with a laugh but set to the task of buttoning and buckling herself back into her clothes.
"I mean it. Thank you--" Shepard locked eyes with him, resting one hand where his cowl met his collarbone. Her soft lip caught under her front teeth, and the skin whitened under pressure. "--for not asking. It's not that I don't trust you--I do. I'm just..."
He could always tell when she'd had enough of being vulnerable.
"You just don't want me decorating the ship with little hearts saying Garrus and Lola Forever. I understand. I don't think Joker would mind the graffiti, but Cortez would have a stroke."
She buried her head in his chest and shook. He rested a hand lightly in the small of her back and let her breathe heavily into him until the shaking stopped, and she pulled away with wet trails down her cheeks, wide lips, bared teeth, and creases at her eyes.
"What if we just do Shepard x Vakarian, and instead of an arrow, we draw a little sniper rifle through it?"
"I'm not nearly artistic enough to pull that off."
"I'll sign you up for those painting classes next time we get shore leave."
She parted from him with a lingering touch and strode to the door to the Elevator. Every step was a little more Commander and a little less Shepard.
Names were things other people gave you. People were the sum of all the little thoughts and actions, the touches and muscle tics, the things said beneath the spoken words.
Garrus knew the Spirit of this woman inside and out. Names just made conversation with outsiders easier.
#mass effect fanfiction#shakarian#garrus x femshep#garrus vakarian#femshep#crack treated seriously#Oh help now there are feels#human faces are pretty weird to a turian
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On Lois Lane
Figured it well past time I got to the matriarch of the Superfamily, especially since I already wrote about the other major "LL" in Superman's life.
Hardest part of writing about Lois is what more can be added that hasn't already been said? She's The Love Interest when it comes to female supporting characters, so iconic and successful that like Superman himself, she's inspired countless copycats: Iris West, Vicki Vale, the current video game version of MJ Watson, if your hero has a love interest who is a reporter, they're drawing on the archetype that Lois established. She was there from the very beginning, before there were Krypton, Smallville, the Kents, the Rogues, before Superman could even fly Lois was there.
And my God is she such a fantastic character in her own right.
Whereas Clark himself is pretty damn different if you compare and contrast his Golden Age incarnation with his modern incarnation, Golden Age Lois is pretty recognizable as Lois Lane. Feisty, independent, scornful of danger and of cowardice (especially in a "peer" like Clark), a bit in awe of Superman while also eager to press him for information about himself, willing to throw herself into danger if she can get that exclusive scoop. Her personality in the early comics is much more like her modern incarnation than the lovestruck wanna-be housewife she became in the Silver Age. Lois is one of the few characters who basically came into comics perfect from Day 1.
I love the Rucka idea that she somehow has everyone's number and can call up anyone from the lowliest criminal to the highest politicians. I like when writers show that she herself is able to wear a variety of disguises, something I'm sure she and Clark can bond over once he reveals his identity to her. And I love that she is basically waging a one-woman war against corruption and evil in Metropolis long before Superman shows up, something the Superman & Lois show highlighted.
It's easy to see why Clark would fall for her. Even putting aside that Lois is hot as hell, she's a great foil to him personality wise. They both are committed to rooting out social ills and taking the fight to crime and oppression wherever it rears it's head, from the Lexcorp boardroom, to the darkest underbelly of Metropolis. They both are kind and compassionate, but have explosive tempers if you piss them off. They both love to snark, although Lois has more bite whereas Clark is more deadpan.
The biggest contrast, and honestly the biggest turn on for Clark, is that Lois is free from doubt. Clark is constantly second-guessing himself, worrying about how others see him, worrying about whether he's making the right choices or if he's approaching his heroics/journalism the right way. Lois? Lois never second-guesses herself, never allows the doubts or opinions of others to affect her course in life. She knows her dad is disappointed and upset with her and she couldn't care less. She knows others think she's a bitch and that only amuses her. She's confident and self-reliant and those are attributes Clark wants desperately to posses himself. How could he not fall head over heels in love?
Why Lois would fall in love with Clark is a bit trickier. It's easy to see why she would love Superman, which is part of why Clark wants her to love the "whole" of him and not just the public persona. Superman is confident, Superman is powerful, Superman kicks ass, he's kind and intelligent, he's a huge celebrity, who wouldn't love him? Clark? Eh he's easy on the eyes but he doesn't really have much of a presence. That's how everyone else views Clark. Lois, I think, would start off viewing Clark as a dweeb who will be gone in a week, the big city too much for him. That he sticks around and toughs it out impresses her. That he manages to outscoop her multiple times infuriates and intrigues her. That he manages to live in Metropolis and see how rotten it can be beneath the shiny gilded exterior, yet doesn't lose his sense of optimism, his faith in other peoples inner goodness, his "naivety" so to speak? I think that's what would make her fall in love with him.
Lois is at heart a "cynical idealist" in my estimation. The cynical side is she's someone who will always fight for the truth, for justice, but I don't think she believes that peoples inherent goodness will win out in the end most of the time. She's seen how selfish people can be, how uncaring, and I think before Clark shows up there's a part of her that thinks she's just bashing her head against a wall trying to change things. The idealist part of her is that she will continue to bash her head against that wall of public indifference anyway. Lois will always fight even if nobody else will fight alongside her, she'll keep writing articles and investigating long after a lesser woman would give up, because it's the principles that matter damnit, even if only to her. That Clark is someone who will join her in that fight while still believing that the rest of the public can be swayed to join them is what I see as the reason why she finally gives him a chance, that optimism remaining in Clark is refreshing and uplifting to her. That he's also hot and can trade banter with her doesn't hurt his chances any.
Lois becoming a mom has been really interesting, even if I haven't always been wholly satisfied with how they've handled the relationship between her and Jon. I haven't seen enough of Lois traits in Jon to really buy him as her offspring, I hope that changes. While I'm not the biggest fan of Tom Taylor to put it mildly, I liked that he emphasized Lois' importance with regards to Jon becoming Superman in interview leading up to the first issue, and I hope we get lots of Lois/Jon interaction in Superman: Son of Kal-El that really flesh out their relationship. At the very least I want to see Jon get some of that Lois patented verbal bite to him.
One last thought with regards to Lois: how the hell was Tom King the first one to realize that Lois and Selina would immediately hit it off?
They're both so similar when you think about it: Brunettes who are willful and independent, who flaunt the rules to get what they want, who outright laugh when their male significant others try to order them around, yeah I totally can see the two of them becoming friends. I really hope that gets continued under someone else, since I don't think anyone other than King has really played with it, but I love the idea of Lois having a "gal pal" that's also caught up in the insanity of life with a superhero.
If not Selina I'd like to see Lois being shown to have a friendship with her copycats such as Vicki or Iris or the rest. Definitely with Cat (even though Cat Grant can drive her up the wall sometimes). More girls' nights out/double dates for Lois, that's all I'm saying.
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Precious. JYN
restaurant worker! au (idk its just gengeral slice of life)
TW: size kink (this is yunho we are talking about) boob stuff (this is me we are talking about, praise, dom! yunho, sub! reader. there is some unwanted inappropriate touching done by an older guy but it doesnt last long.
WC: 5k
-
The very first thing you noticed about the restaurant you now worked at was how hot the manager interviewing you was. Yeah, you had worked with conventionally attractive people before, but most of them found a way to make themselves unappealing through words or actions. Not Yunho however, a month into working as a waitress you had to simply conclude that there was nothing not to love about him. Of course, he was dashing, that much was obvious, but it was so much more than that, he was unbelievably considerate of others and fiercely protective of his crew, he had a million-dollar smile and could charm his way out of any problem with a customer. Not to mention he was built like a God with both the height and muscles to make your mouth water. Yunho was lucky, and things just seemed to fall into place around him.
Of course, you were aware of this, as he made it impossible to forget.
As time progressed you became more accustomed to your coworkers and better at your job, soon you found a place in the tight-knit group of friends that worked together so work was usually fun.
Except for today. You have been at this job for 6 months now and somehow, with the exception of Yunho, you found yourself on a shift solely staffed by newbies without a clue. And it was a very busy night. You had lost count of the number of times one of your fellow waiters had to call you over to answer a guest question or how many times it was you who had to apologize to them for their server's mistake but it was starting to get to you.
You had a brief moment right in the middle of dinner service where all of your tables were eating happily and you would have a moment to rest. You knew that if you stood there for a moment longer you would be called over by one of the other waiters so you quickly made your way over to the bar where Yunho stood at the POS system. You used his size as an advantage and literally hid behind him. Of course, people could still see you, but at least you weren't standing directly in front of the waiter's station where you would surely be bothered.
You heard the man laugh quietly, and though you couldn't see his face you bet he was hiding a smile.
"Rough night?" He questioned, talking in a way as not to draw attention to you.
"Of course I would get stuck on a shift like this. Not a single person on the crew tonight knows what they're doing! I'm surprised you're even here, I thought the gods of the universe loved you too much" you finished your mini-rant in a mumbling tone, rubbing your eyes before looking out into the dining room just in time to watch the newest crew member, a thin gangly boy named Trevor, spill a glass of water all down the front of an older woman, and you groaned.
Yunho chose to laugh quietly again before speaking up, knowing that now that there was a new disaster your conversation would be cut short once the newbie found you.
"Don't be so hard on them, you were that stupid when you first started," he joked before looking back down at his screen.
"No, I was not!" You cried, "besides why is everyone bothering me? You're the manager shouldn't you be dealing with angry customers? That is above my pay grade." You finish as soon as the young waiter spotted you and began to make his way over.
"Because I told them to," Yunhi replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"And why would you do that?" You asked thoroughly annoyed. Coming out from behind the man as Trevor was about halfway across the dining room.
Yunho laughed his brightest laugh. The one that made your stomach swirl with butterflies. He turned finally and looked directly at you, just before the waiter was in earshot he spoke,
"Because you're cute when you're grumpy,"
And that is another thing about Yunho that was impossibly unfair. The man was a relentless flirt. And that wasn't just to you, anytime he made eye contact with anyone it's like he can't hold back the wink.
Finally, your peak time was over. After the incident with the water, the rest of the rush seemed to pass without a problem. There were only about two more hours till you could crawl back into the warmth of your bed and give your feet a real rest.
You had just finish bussing a table when the door chimed again. You could hear the host talking from where you were standing, and her words made your heart sink.
"Well of course Mr. Miller! You want your regular table I'm guessing,"
And then the reply in a groveling tone,
"She better be here tonight, I am starting to think she avoiding me,"
The "she" in question was you. And yes you were. Mr. Miller was a middle-aged sleazy man who came in close to close every Friday night demanding that you serve him. For the past few weeks you have asked Yunho if you could have Fridays off like he did, but due to some call-outs both of you had to come in.
You highly considered running to the back and feigning illness to go home, but it was too late.
"There she is!" The gargley voice called out. Admitting defeated you finally turned to look at him, and with the biggest fakes smile, you could muster you replied.
"Hey, Mr. Miller,"
From the moment he sat down he was already laying it on thick.
"Well, aren't you looking as nice as ever? Some might think you trying something," he winked at you. You had to hold back your vomit. The man was and had been since the moment he first sat at your table 6 months ago that you were his alone, if you spent too much time at another table instead of entering him he would throw a fit. If you didn't laugh at one of his jokes about your body he would throw some line like "come on, give me a smile." If you didn't fully play into the delusion that you were interested in him he would push even harder. And he didn't even tip.
So you played along "Well you know me, I always gotta look my best for you," you said trying to be friendly to appease him, but already knowing damn well that tonight he was going to be insufferable.
You took his drink order and escaped from him as quickly as you could. The other thing you hated about him was how long he stayed. Well after he finished his meal he would stick around for a while watching you. So you weren't even surprised when you felt his eyes on your body as you walked away.
Yunho was observing this interaction from afar completely confused. Friday was one of Yunho's days off every week so he had never seen this before, and he must have looked confused because the host had walked over to him to explain.
"It's weird, right? A child could see how much she hates him but every Friday he comes absolutely convinced that it's her favorite day of the week."
It was getting late, and there were barely any customers left in the dining room when you finally took his empty dinner plate from his table. Not that he was ready to leave yet.
"You know, I've been thinking" he starts before you can walk away, "how does someone as pretty as you end up working at a place like this?" He asks peering at you from over his glass of water.
"Well a girls gotta pay rent," you reply with the fakest giggle ever.
"If I had you, you wouldn't have to work a day in your life," he said, "what do you say, honey, you could quit this place for good," he asked setting his water down and grinning at you dangerously. This scared you. You couldn't help but let your smile falter for a moment, this you couldn't encourage.
"I don't know," was all you could say trying your hardest to make it all seem like a joke. You instinctively step back from the table. In a brief moment, you noticed his hand moving twords your body but it was too late, he had already put his bent fingers on your leg and gripped it.
"Come on, you know I could treat you right."
You physically recoiled but his grip was strong. You were legitimately terrified. He had suggested on a few occasions before that he would wait for you in his car after you close and watched you, he knew which car was yours and could easily follow you. It was clear he didn't take no for an answer.
You didn't know what to do, you simply stood there petrified with the man's grimy hand moving up your leg. Just when it was going to reach the hem of your uniform skirt you were pulled away behind the familiar height of Jung Yunho.
"Sir if you touch any of my employees again I will have you kicked out." Gone was the playful tone that permeated Yunhos normal speech. Instead, he was icy and cold no room for negotiation in his voice. But that didn't stop Mr. Miller from trying.
"Calm down son, me and my favorite girl were just having a polite conversation." He said looking at where you were peeking out from behind Yunho, clearly expecting you to back him up. Instead, you looked anywhere but at him.
"No sir, you were visibly harassing one of my waitresses. it is inappropriate to talk to anyone that way much less if they are working and unable to walk away. If you leave now there will be no further issue." He said, still trying to speak civilly despite his growing agitation. In your desperation to not look at the man you glanced around the room. All eyes, both employe, and patron were staring directly at you. This made it so much worse and chose to look directly at Yunho's side profile.
"Who are you to tell me what to do! I am a paying customer and a loyal patron. I will talk to whom I please!" The older man's voice began to rise clearly not liking the way this conversation was going.
"That girl behind you has been my waitresses for 6 months and if I want to touch her I will!" You heard a fist slam on the table. You jumped and Yunho pulled you farther behind himself. You couldn't help but fist the back of his shirt in terror when you heard the scrape of a chair on the floor. Mr. Miller was now standing, trying his hardest to get in Yunho's face despite how the younger man towered over him.
"If you don't walk away right now ill beat your ass boy!" Miller screamed, getting as close as possible to Yunho. You practically cowered into Yunho's back, still clinging onto the fabric of his black dress shirt like you would physically unravel if you let go.
Yunho stood stoic while the man yelled. Afterward, he took a pause, before speaking.
"Trevor, call the police and tell them we have a customer harassing our staff and threatening violence." He spoke with a defining certainty, no room for an argument from Trevor or Mr. Miller.
Yunho's gentle hand took hold of your upper arm to lead you away from the man. He turned you away from where he stood dumbfounded, and lead you back into the office, and locked the door.
Yunho lead you to one of the two chairs in the cramped room fumbled around for a bit with the water cooler, bringing you a small paper cup to drink from before finally taking a seat himself. The room was small, from the way you were sitting and Yunho's long limb his knees brushed against your own.
You stared and him and he did the same to you, neither saying a word. The man before you looked remarkably calm for the ordeal he just faced but based on the concern in his eyes you looked shaken. You hadn't realized you were crying till the drops landed on the shaky hand still grasping the paper cup for fear of life.
"Please don't cry" was all he said at first. He was silent for a moment but your tears didn't stop. He shifted a bit and the knee touching your own brushed the outermost part of your thigh. He sighed.
"Why didn't you tell anyone how bad he was? Why didn't you tell me?" He spoke calmly. He didn't sound mad in the slightest but his words brought a dry sob from your lips. He looked almost scared for a second before correcting himself in a pleading tone.
"Please don't think I blame you in the slightest. What happened was not your fault," one large hand came to rest almost timidly on your leg.
"I just wish I could have stopped this before it happened."
-
It has been a few weeks since the incident. News of what had happened had spread around the staff quickly and although Mr. Miller had fled the restaurant before the police arrived, everyone on the crew knew that he was not allowed on the premises and if his car so much as pulled into the parking lot the police assured us that he would be escorted off the property for trespassing.
Yunho had insisted that you take the next 5 days off afterward and even when you returned everyone was walking on eggshells around you, not wanting to do anything to upset you.
The closest circle of team members made it a point to have outings every so often as many of you were quite close outside of work, and although some of them (with your best interest at heart) didn't think you should come out, it was once again Yunho who advocated that spending time alone in your apartment would do you no good. So here you were at approximately 9 o'clock outside a small bar/club getting excited about your first night of relaxation since that day.
Once you found your way into the building it wasn't hard to spot your group. Many of them were already drunk from pre-gaming and the rest of them were well on the way. It brought a fond smile to your face. When you joined the group there were cries of excitement and soon you all fell into the groove of the evening.
You had noticed Yunho the moment you walked in because he seemed to be the only sober one of the bunch. Of course, he knew how to party better than anyone, but tonight he seemed satisfied to just watch the rowdiness unfold.
You weren't drinking cuz of the practical reason that you drove yourself here today. After making your rounds talking with every one of your friends you found yourself gravitating to Yunho as you always seemed to do. He was sitting in a circular booth so it was easy to slide in next to him.
"Not drinking tonight?" You asked.
"No. Someones gotta keep an eye on these crazy people" he replied as jovial as always, instead taking a sip of what appeared to be coke.
"Well I guess I will have to help you then"
After a few hours of talking happily with Yunho while also keeping a close eye on your friends, you found yourself, once again knee to knee with Yunho. Except this time instead of sitting in front of him, you were almost sitting on top of him. You honestly had no clue how this happened, but he didn't seem to mind. Actually, Yunho himself was now sitting with his long arm wrapped across your shoulders pulling you even closer to his side.
"YUNHO" one of your fellow waiters fell into the space beside you, but with their lack of coordination they ended up bumping into you enough that if Yunho hadn't pulled you fully into his lap you would have toppled onto the floor underneath the table. But once the crowd of crewmembers was alerted of your guys' presence they all simultaneously pushed into the booth so there was no room to sit back in your spot.
You were blushing now, thankful that your friends were too drunk to notice how Yunho's arm was wrapped around your waist keeping you securely in place. As the talking resumed Yunho leaned down to whisper into your ear,
"This is all right? I can get them to move if you want," though it was probably unintentional Yunhos breath was sending shivers down your spine, which only got stronger when you finally came to realize how much larger he was then you, effortlessly keeping your body snugly against his chest tight enough to feel each breath he took, the hand wrapped on your waist was large enough to palm your whole thigh if he wanted to. And that thought was exciting.
"No, I'm fine," though you sounded a bit shaky you snuggled yourself even further back onto his lap to show your appreciation. He chuckled lowly in your ear before returning to the conversation. But your mind could not be further from it. You had never realized before how incredibly safe you felt with Yunho or more specifically in his arms and chose to instead focus on the weight of his hand on you, the subtle shifting of his thighs underneath your own as he spoke, and the deep rumble that moved your body with his own every time he laughed.
When it came time for everyone to go home you didn't want to. You didn't like the idea of removing yourself from Yunho's lap at all. But alas, it had to be done.
As the two sober friends, you two were talked with calling cabs and making sure everyone got home safely. Until finally the two of you stood alone on the pavement. You felt the need to say something.
"I don't think I ever thanked you," you said turning to face the man in the cold air. He turned his body twords you as well.
"You don't need to thank me for sitting on my lap, trust me the pleasure was all mine," he joked, and you couldn't help but chuckle along with him.
"You know that's not what I meant," you said in a small voice.
"You don't need to thank me for that either, trust me," his big smile turning smaller but sweeter. This confused you.
"What do you mean?"
Yunho sighed with a smile.
"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet," was all he said. But your confused face brought more words out of him. He took a step closer to you leaning down and speaking in a quiet voice he said,
"You, have always been very precious to me, and that day was no different. I would go to much greater lengths to keep you safe if I had to,"
His words, although spoken in the softest tone struck you straight through the heart. You had always dreamed of being with Yunho but you had never imagined he felt the same way. He took another step, leaving almost no room between you.
"Can I kiss you?" He asked, bringing a hand up to the back of your head. Words weren't forming so you chose to nod instead.
It only took a beat longer for him to lean down and press his plush lips into your own. Yunho wasn't one to beat around the bush and put all of his passion into the kiss, leading your lips with his own guiding your mouth to respond exactly as he wished.
You put your hands on his firm chest as his other arm circled your waist bringing you in even closer. Your mouths were so intertwined neither of you dared to break the kiss for quite a while, simply enjoy the feeling, but soon the need for oxygen won out. You pulled apart gasping, but still holding each other close.
-
You're not quite sure how exactly you ended up back at your apartment but that was unimportant, what mattered was keeping your mouth on Yunho's. You two had barely gotten through the door before your back was pressed against it in a quick motion.
Along with his considerable height, Yunho also had considerable strength, so when leaning down for you became uncomfortable he chose to instead wrap your legs around his waist and lift you.
In this new position, you were at the perfect height to move his lips to your neck. He found the perfect spot on it before sucking a dark purple mark into the skin, nibbling it a bit before licking it soothingly. The wet feeling of his tongue pulled a new sound from your lips,
"Yunho!" You whined into his ear.
He seemed overjoyed at this reaction and desperate to recreate it he rolled his hips into yours. You could feel his hard length pressing oh so perfectly into your clothed slit you desperate cry could probably be heard three doors down. The man was big.
"You sound so cute" Yunho giggled into your jaw, before pressing a sweet kiss into the skin.
One of his large hands slipped below the hem of your shirt and moved up to the cup of your bra. His long fingers groped your plush breast, holding the whole thing in his hand. The warmth of his fingers and the pleasant squeeze had you whining once again.
"Your so sensitive baby," he remarked, giving your breast another squeeze. In an attempt to keep your noises contained you reached out and pulled his head to meet your lips again. This kiss was much more desperate than the others both of your lips moving so fast it was hard to keep up, your teeth clacking together in the process. Yunho rolled his hips into yours again and you squealed into his lips.
Keeping you as firmly planted on the kiss as possible Yunho's hand fell from your chest back to your hips before pulling you completely off the wall and your arms instinctively clung to his broad shoulders.
Your apartment was only one bedroom so Yunho had bo problem blindly navigating the way to your bedroom. As soon as the door was open you were practically flung backward onto your bed. In an instant Yunho found his way onto your bed, once his back was pressed into the headboard Yunho took hold of your body and manhandled you onto his lap facing him, you were once again faced with just how big Yunho was. Both of his arms wrapped around your body pulling you close and positioning your heat directly over his dick, where an impressive tent in his jeans rubbed directly into you. The loose skirt you were wearing did nothing to cover your panties. You kneed into him finally taking the initiative to grind down repeatedly onto him.
"Awe, baby you look so cute like this, all flustered and needy. Look you're making a mess on me." You hadn't noticed how wet you were until this point but he was right, you were completely soaked through the thin material of your underwear, and with each roll of your hips, you were dampening his jeans.
"Yunho," you begged "please touch me,"
"But you look so good like this. I could watch this all day. Sitting pretty on my lap, just waiting for me to fuck you."
"Please?" You cried still desperately chasing the friction his jeans were giving your clit. He flashed his million-dollar smile before giving in, slipping one veiny hand into your panties cupping your whole heats in his hand for a moment, wetting his fingers before sliding two long digits into you. You showed your appreciation in a moan and clung to his broad shoulders again.
"Please Yunho! I want more. Please fuck me." You begged.
"Not yet, baby, I gotta open you up first. Don't want to hurt you do I." As he spoke he speaks the pace of his fingers scissoring them open inside of you stretching you wider. You bucked into his hand.
"My little baby is fucking herself into my hand. How cute," your exhaled loudly then dropped your head onto his shoulder tugging at his shirt begging him to remove it. Yunho chose to first use his free hand to slide your own top of your body before taking hold of your neck and pulling your upper body away from his. With your help eventually, his shirt was pulled from him leaving your view of his beautiful chest and bulging muscles open to admire.
You almost forgot about the hand moving inside of you while you ran your own up and down the Yunho's chest, trying to feel every bump and ridge there was. Your eyes were glazing over in wonder, but you were soon brought back to reality when another finger pushed inside of you, joining the others in your pulsing pussy. Your head rolled back in a moan.
"Like what you see baby? Because I am really enjoying this view." You were sitting so pretty on his lap your skirt had been pushed up and your soaked lacy panties matched your bra perfectly. In all the movement your chest was starting to spill out of your bra.
"Baby you look so fucked out and small right now and I haven't even done anything yet, are you sure you need me to fuck you?" He asked teasingly.
"Yunho, please," your nails began dragging down his golden skin leaving a trail of red lines, "please, please fuck me." Spewed past your lips. A wicked smile graced his lips.
"You want me to fuck you into the mattress?" He asked.
"Yes! Please!" This was almost embarrassing but if anything your flushed tone only made him happier.
"No, I don't think I will." He said pulling his finger out of you.
You whined.
Yunho undid his belt pushing his pants down just enough to pull his expressive length out of his boxers. You watched with bated breath as he stroked himself a few times before meeting your eyes.
"How about you ride me instead?"
You nodded eagerly almost lunging forward. Yunho helped support your body as you hovered over him, before lining you up and pulling your body down onto him. The stretch was painful at first, you could feel him deeper than anyone else had ever reached but you clenched down on him appreciatively. You took a moment to gather yourself, half expecting him to thrust into you, but he stayed perfectly still. You meet his eyes with your own going wide and he giggled.
"I'm not moving baby if you want to get fucked you have to do it yourself." As he spoke he pulled both hands off you, resting them on his thighs.
You sat breathless for a second longer, unable to form a coherent thought, but the sudden twitch of his dick inside you brought you back to the task at hand. Slowly but surely you began moving, lifting yourself till only his tip was inside you before falling back down. You both groaned satisfied but it only lasted a second before you repeated the action, and then again, and again, slowly building speed each time and realizing quite moans every time he filled you up completely.
You had now set a fast pace, you were unsure how long you could keep it but the growing pleasure filling your abdomen kept you moving. Yunho's eyes were trained on you, switching from your blessed out face, to your bouncing tits, to where his long dick was disappeared into your cunt each time it reappeared coated in your juries.
"Baby, if only you could see yourself right now," he spoke over the sounds of skin slapping and pretty moans, "honestly you look good enough to eat sweetheart"
His words of praise-filled your ears and encouraged you to move faster, desperately clenching on his dick feeling it twitch return along with his deep rumbling groan. Your hands were still firmly planted on his chest and you used this grip for support trying once again to increase your pace. Your thighs were beginning to burn but it felt too good to stop, not when you were this close.
"Yunho, please help me," you whined, your legs faltering in their attempt to keep moving.
"Oh? But you're doing so well baby," he said with an adoring smile watching your face.
"Please Yunho?" you asked running your palms down the ridges of his chest once again. Your building pleasure had started to plateau as you couldn't keep up the pace, your thighs starting to burn even harder. You were so close but you couldn't put yourself over the edge and if growing moans from the man in front of you were anything to go by then he was right there with you.
He seemed to consider this for a moment before chuckling.
"I guess my baby is just not strong enough to make herself cum. I suppose I could help with that."
You only had time to breathe a sigh of relief before you were thrown back onto the covers. Yunho's large frame loomed over you with a sinister smirk. You barely registered the anticipation in your body before he slammed his entire length back into you. Setting a brutal pace. You cried out instantly and your voice rang through the walls of the apartment like a symphony.
Each time Yunho's hips connected with your own he hit that perfect spot inside of you bringing more noises from you. One of his hands came down onto the mattress beside your head and the other took hold of your thigh using it to maneuver you into the exact position he wanted.
Now Yunho was grunting along with you trying hurtling both of your twords your orgasms at an incredible pace. Just as you were about to be thrown over the edge Yunho connected your lips again swallowing your moans. It only took one more perfectly timed thrust before you came toppling over the edge. Although your lips were still connected, it didn't do much to help the lewd sounds spilling out of you. The pleasure came from your core in waves, arching your back and making your legs twitch violently.
Not long after you came down from the high your body began pulling away from Yunho's thrust but he held you in place.
"Just a little longer baby, I promise."
And just when the buzzing pain of overstimulation subsided, Yunho filled pulled out of you and spilled his sticky cum across your body. He stood above you for a moment, you both were panting but you were clearly the more worn out of the two.
Yunho's eyes moved across your whole body once before meeting your own eyes.
"Your precious"
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Hii, Candy! For the Drabble Challenge, 12 and 19 😊
(You can also read this on AO3!)
Newlywed bliss, Levi decides, is sort of like a bubble. Or a vacuum, pick your metaphor.
You get so caught up in the sheer wonder of the whole situation, of shared touches and delirious smiles and and waking up with the love of your life sprawled unglamourously beside you, open-mouthed and drooling and just thoroughly adorable, and your heart swells and you can't think and you forget that the world hasn't stopped spinning on its axis for you and you alone.
In other words, Levi pleads insanity.
So when Petra walks into the drawing room one day with a frozen look on her face, one that's equal parts terror and bewilderment and something else that he can't quite discern, he doesn't know what to think. And then she says it.
"Levi," she says, "I'm pregnant."
Just two words, and his world is upended. He think Petra says something after, but he doesn't hear her; blood roars in his ears, his breath is stuck in his throat, and for the first time in his life, he finds himself shocked into utter silence.
And he realises, that third emotion in her face that he hadn't recognised earlier: it's happiness. A wild, fierce joy, a bewildered and terrified joy, but a joy nonetheless.
His head spins, and he feels, incomprehensibly, the urge to lie down. "Pregnant," he echoes. His voice is hoarse, ragged. "Petra, that's..."
He trails off. He doesn't know what to say. Incredible? Ridiculous? Impossible? Petra seems to recognise the tumult in his thoughts, though, because her expression shifts into a kind of defensive stubborness. As if by instinct, her arms curl over her still-flat abdomen, protective.
"Look," she begins, "I know we hadn't planned on this so early, but if you're thinking of—"
"No," he says. His voice is harsh, decisive, and he takes a small step towards her. "I'm not. Petra, I'm sorry, I was just...surprised. I wouldn't...ask you to hurt it. I would never."
She swallows. Her gaze searching, tentative. "Then...you're okay? You're not mad? Or upset?"
"I don't know how I feel," he says honestly. "I don't know shit about being a parent. Maybe I'll screw it all up, I don't know that either. And I'll be real, this is fucking terrifying." Petra laughs. The sound is like broken glass.
"But," he takes a step towards her, "I know I'll try my damned hardest to protect it. Give it a good life. I mean..." His eyes never move away from her stomach. "It's our baby."
His voice cracks on the two words, and that's all she needs. She almost falls into him, sobbing and laughing all at the same time. "Levi, I'm so scared," she whispers. She sounds dreamy, incredulous; enchanted. "A baby. We made a baby."
Levi's never been sure of anything; his life has been a maze of choice, of possibilities, of maybes and what-ifs. But as he stares down at Petra, her arms still wrapped around her middle, he feels a surge of something fierce and unfamiliar in his chest, something almost painful in its acuteness, and he knows, without a doubt: he would die for this stirring of life that drifts, still blind to the world, in his wife's womb.
==
The first time he tells someone, it's entirely by accident.
They're all hanging out in the lounge, like most nights; they haven't told Erwin, and Petra reckons it's better to wait a little, just in case. Eld and Auruo are bickering away as usual, and somehow, the topic turns to one of their colleagues, who recently put in a request to switch to the Garrison after his wife became pregnant.
"I mean, I get why," Eld says, his lip curling, "I just don't get how. Sitting around on the walls, getting drunk and playing cards all day...I'll never understand."
"Your fiancée might like that, though, wouldn't she," Auruo taunts. The other man rolls his eyes.
"Aria knows I'll never leave the Survey Corps. I plan to live till the ripe old age of seventy and die in a blaze of glory as Supreme Commander, thank you very much."
"Supreme Commander isn't even a title, you ass," Gunther goes from across the room, looking up from his book. "But pregnancy...that's a whole lot of responsibility, isn't it? How do you just go off and risk your life every day, with a kid waiting at home for you?"
Levi's stomach churns suddenly, his dinner threatening to make a reappearance, and his face suddenly feels very hot. He fights to keep his expression carefully blank, but Petra's eyes catch his, narrowing with concern.
"And that's how you ruin a life. Congratulations," Auruo concludes wisely.
"Hey," Petra retorts sharply, "that's not true. Being a dad doesn't mean your life ends, you know. You can still be a soldier, and fight, and everything."
Auruo leers at her. "It's different for you, Pet. Mothers have options...but fathers, they gotta provide for their families, woman. Dying...leaving your wife and kid to fend for themselves...it's not done." Eld and Gunther nod agreement, and Petra makes a face, muttering something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like, 'sexist cows'.
Levi doesn't know what possesses him in that instant. His throat is dry, and he's so lightheaded he feels numb, almost disembodied. He stands up abruptly, and announces, "Petra and I are expecting."
The silence that follows is palpable, thick enough to choke on. He can feel Petra's eyes as Auruo begins to sputter apologies and retractions—"I only meant—but of course, you wouldn't die and leave your kid alone, captain! You're humanity's strongest, after all! You'd never..."
He's still stammering away when Levi turns on his heel without a word, and walks out of the room.
==
The candle in his room has melted into a stump of wax when Petra finds him, later that night.
"Hey," she says softly. She's changed into her nightgown, and her hair, still damp from the showers, tumbles into the hollow of her collarbone. In the dim light of the candle, she looks pale and fragile; hollowed cheekbones, shadowed eyes.
Something deep in his chest wrenches, and he opens his mouth, only to find that no words come out. But she seems to understand his expression; of course she does, she always does.
She walks over to the window, where he stands, staring out of the window, and wraps her arms around his back. They're so nearly the same height that it's a comfortable position for them, her face pressed into his shoulder, her hair brushing the curve of his cheek. They stay there for a few moments in a comfortable silence, just relishing in the wordless companionship.
Petra isn't a patient person by nature. But by now, she knows him; knows how the thoughts whirl insistently in his mind at the height of his emotion, unwilling to settle into the dust. So she waits, her warm breath reassuring on his neck, her heartbeat strong against his back.
He finally exhales. "Do you think they were right?" he asks. The words sound unnaturally loud in the silence of the night. When she doesn't reply immediately, he goes on, "I could...you know. I could join the Garrison, too, or the Military Police. Or leave the military. I could do other things. Erwin would understand, he'd help—"
"No." The word cuts through the room. Gently but firmly, Petra turns him around to face her. The moonlight casts her in silver, turning her into something luminous, ethereal—almost otherworldly.
"Levi, I love you more than anything in this stupid world." Her expression is fierce, intent. "And I won't let you do that. You belong here, in the Survey Corps. And I do, too."
"But just say—"
"I'm not fragile, Levi," she shoots back, her eyes burning with a familiar fire. "Sure, maybe I'm not strong the way you are, but I'm strong enough. I'm not saying I'd be okay if you died—of course I wouldn't—but I'd survive, and I'd keep our child alive, too. And I believe you'd do the same."
Something breaks in him, then, like the shattering of a glass, and he looks up. Petra is glaring at him with those burning eyes, and in that moment, she's so alive and beautiful, the love of his life, the mother of his unborn child. The realisation makes him stagger. He's never felt so complete; he's never had so much to lose.
Feeling as though the weight of the world sits on his shoulders, he nods.
Petra's answering smile is a promise, golden and honeyed and full of light. She draws him in tighter.
"Trust me," she whispers. Her presence is warm, solid, comforting. "Everything will be all right."
Drabble challenge!
#end open to interpretation WINKS#thank u for the prompt anya i hope this didn't disappoint;;;#rivetra#levi x petra#attack on titan#levi ackerman#petra ral#aot fanfiction#candycity writes
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Use All of Me (P.13)
Title: Use All Of Me (Part Thirteen)
Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him.
Words: 3,575
Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death
Part Twelve || Part Fourteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
A branch snapped out in the woods and you turned quickly towards the noise. It was dark outside still, the sun just starting to rise. You had been unable to sleep since 3:30am and instead of tossing and turning that could wake Yua up, you had come out onto the upper balcony with a book and a blanket.
The only sound you heard now was your heart pounding in your ears, worried that you were going to see a shadow step out from behind the trees in the shape of Steve’s broad shoulders.
But the woods were quiet, no looming figures. Slowly, you relaxed, the tension leaving your muscles. You could not see anything, so you nestled back down, opening the book again. After a few minutes, the sound was forgotten, and you were immersed in your book.
When you finally came back inside, Yua was up by then. You walked quietly by Natalie’s still sleeping form and made your way down the stairs carefully. Yua was already at the sink making herself some coffee. She eyed you as you walked into the kitchen.
“God, look how big you are,” Yua said groggily, eyeing your stomach.
“Good morning to you too. And yes, I can feel it,” you jested. “26 weeks.”
She laughed, “I mean honestly. Since this all started out… it’s like you swallowed a volleyball. It just hits me sometimes, still catches me off guard.”
“Soon to be a basketball, I’m sure.”
“Or bigger.”
“Probably bigger,” you admitted, grabbing a glass to get yourself some water.
“Well, you’re not that size yet. So, where is my breakfast? Cause you look like you’ve been up for a while. Why isn’t it ready?” Yua joked.
Yawning, you said, “Well, ma’am, I was actually going to go back to bed after I got something to drink. I’ve been up since 3:30. I couldn’t sleep. And now it’s catching all up to me. But if you would like, I could make you eggs.”
She waved you off, “I was just kidding. Go back to sleep. It’s still early enough! Do you want me to put a plate of food in the fridge for you for whenever you do wake up?”
“That would be nice,” you said before taking a large gulp of the water. You placed the half empty water glass back on the counter and said, “I’ll have that later too. Don’t want to drink too much at one time. The babies have declared a competition on who can kick my bladder the hardest.”
<><><>
Back in New York, Clint looked way too proud of himself as he strode into the room, but it caught Steve’s attention because that could mean only one thing. And that thing was going to bode well for him.
He was halfway out of his seat as Clint approached, a wide grin tearing at the sides of his mouth.
“I think I got it,” he said, throwing the few pictures he had printed out upstairs on the desk in front of Steve. Steve sat back down, pulling the photos towards him eagerly. “I saw that one of Natalie’s cousins had some photos up in the woods. I couldn’t get a location on them because I wasn’t friends with him. So, I got Shuri to make up a hack for me to gain access to an account. I chose one of the aunts, disguising it as a money scheme – she fell for it, clicked on the link. I was able to gain access to her account and was able to access more of the photos on his page. He’s got a cabin in New Hampshire.”
Steve was looking at the photos of the family outside their cabin.
“If she isn’t on the trains,” Clint said, excitedly. “Where are we now with the cameras? The west coast? We should have seen her by now if she was on the Amtrak.” He pointed eagerly at the pictures and said, “This might be it. It wouldn’t cost them anything to stay in and it’s probably secluded. It’s not too far but it’s far enough out of state.”
<><><>
Wanda was leaning back on the couch, flipping through a magazine. She had been watching the cameras for most of the early morning, but Tony had arrived around 6:30am, wanting to try different locations so she got up and left, giving him the space he needed.
The phone on the desk rang nearby, drawing her attention instantly, and she sat up, craning her neck to look at it. The phone was the number they had given out on the ads to call if anyone had any information on Y/N’s whereabouts. Tony’s gaze was locked on it too and before he could react, she was there, picking it up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, I’m calling about the missing persons ad.”
Wanda’s breath caught for a moment before she breathed, “Yes?”
“For Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Yes,” Wanda said more impatiently.
“Saw a woman like the photo at one of the cabins up here as I was on a walk real early this morning, right as the sun was coming up. She was sitting on the porch, very pregnant. I didn’t get a great look at her, didn’t want to gawk, you know. Plus, I think I was on their property, so I was probably trespassing, but I was following a doe—”
“Where was it at?” Wanda asked, cutting him off in the politest voice she could muster.
<><><>
“Steve!” Wanda called, taking the stairs by two. Steve called from the community room and she walked briskly, practically breaking into a jog. When she entered the room, she saw Clint, Sam, and him were looking at some photos on the table. Tearing her attention away from that, she said in a rush, “We maybe got something. A man named Will called about it, saying he thinks he saw Y/N.”
“In New Hampshire?”
“Y-Yes?” Wanda said completely confused at how he knew that.
Clint looked beside himself and Steve demanded, “Where at? Did you get a location?”
Wanda told him the address and Steve pulled his phone out, typing it into the maps app. He slammed his hand down on the desk in triumph, standing quickly. He thrust the phone into Clint’s hands. Sam was trying to peer over Clint’s shoulders to get a look too.
“That’s the same damn cabin,” Steve exclaimed, hardly able to contain his excitement. Wanda took notice of the pictures now, leaning over the table to look at them herself.
“Are we going now?” Sam asked just as Steve breezed past him. His eyes swept to Clint and said, “I guess so then.”
“Ha, teamwork,” Clint smiled, squeezing Wanda on the shoulder encouragingly as he walked by, rushing to follow Steve.
<><><>
The team was quick in their assemble upon arrival, Bucky and Natasha having to travel to get there which set Steve on edge because he had been ready immediately in his black suit, anxiousness coursing through him. He was pacing in front of the facility, having a hard time containing the hope blooming. His eyes were set on the tree line, wanting to just get into the car and drive to the address, scoop Y/N up and bring her back home.
He was not going to make the same mistakes he had that had let her slip through his fingers. If he could help it, she would never step foot off that property without him again. He would make sure she learned that lesson as soon as he got her home.
Tony met him at the edge of the entrance patio, not suited up. He was staying behind to monitor from there and he surprised Steve with a small drone, holding it out to him.
“You should not go in there guns blazing before you get sights on her or something to be absolutely sure. Use this. You don’t need to be barging into some random pregnant person’s cabin. Not a good look, not good press. Especially since you’ve got it out there now that you are looking for her. This drone is quiet, but it’s not silent so don’t fly too close or they’ll hear it and it’ll blow your whole covert cover.”
“You mean hovering above the place in a plane isn’t going to do that?”
“You’re not taking a plane, jackass,” Tony retorted, and Steve smirked in response. “Park down the road. You can go in on foot.” Steve thanked him, taking the drone. Tony ran his eyes up and down Steve and asked, “Was it really necessary to get up in the suit?”
“Can’t exactly show up in slacks. Just in case things get squirrelly,” Steve responded.
“’Squirrelly’,” Tony chortled. “Y/N will hardly be able to run.” Steve’s only response to that with a slight smile of acknowledgement. Tony stepped closer and said, “I got something else too. Of course, they say it doesn’t exist because the general public already has an issue with frothing at the mouth with conspiracy theories of the government tracking them. People honestly suffer from grandiosity in this country.” He noticed the impatient look on Steve’s face and apologized, “Sorry. Soap box. How do you feel about a GPS chip?” Steve’s eyes widened in surprise and Tony back tracked quickly. “Right. We can talk about that when she gets back home, safe and sound. I’ve just wanted to try out the new model and she seems like the perfect candidate, perfect circumstance. We’ll chat when you’re back. Don’t forget.”
Tony clapped Steve on the shoulder before walking back towards the door to the elevator.
<><><>
The trip up north was taking longer than Steve wanted it to, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh as he watched the trees go by. The thought that Y/N would somehow get tipped off and bolt before he got there was eating away at him. He was watching his phone anxiously, seeing them get closer and closer to where the cabin should be.
When Clint pulled off on the highway at what should be the end of the road that would lead to the cabin, Steve threw the door open and stepped outside. He was ready to let the drone go, flying it towards the direction of where the cabin was in a matter of a few moments, the only pause in the effort being from the drone having to start up. Steve was watching the viewing screen of the drone with intensity as it hovered over the trees, keeping an eye peeled as he followed the gravel road. The rest of the team was waiting around the SUV. Bucky leaned against the side, tapping his foot, trying to expel some of the pent-up adrenaline that everyone was garnering, knowing this needed to be executed without injury or incident.
The cabin was there at the end and Steve leaned forward in anticipation seeing the car.
“That looks like the car model,” Tony said over his earpiece. He was able to access the drone’s camera was well back at the facility. “Zoom in a bit to the license plate.” Steve did as he asked and Tony breathed, “Bingo.”
“Alright,” Steve said far more calmly than he felt. “That’s good enough for me.” He walked back towards the open back door of the SUV, walking up and placing the screen just inside. “The cabin is about half a mile away. Clint, stay here with the car and be ready to come up when we are ready to go. I don’t want Y/N to have to walk back down the driveway. Nat, Sam… you’re with me at the front. Buck, take the back of the cabin. Don’t shoot anyone unless I tell you to.”
“Taking the fun out of things,” Bucky halfheartedly joked.
<><><>
Stretching out on the bed, your toes curled. A sigh of contentment left your lips as your eyes opened, blinking away your sleep. When your vision focused, you saw the clock said it was almost 11:00am. You had managed to fall back asleep around 7:00am and you felt better now that you had gotten some more sleep. You could barely detect Yua and Natalie speaking in low tones, more than likely trying to avoid waking you up.
The serenity was shattered at the loud bang from on the first floor and you heard Yua scream in alarm. You sat up with difficulty just as the door from the balcony burst open. You jolted to the side, holding your stomach protectively.
Your heart rate slowed only for a moment upon recognizing the man who burst in was Bucky. When his cerulean eyes landed on you, gun pointed in your direction, your heart rate blew past normal, your breath quick.
“Bucky?” you got out in a gasp.
He relaxed ever so slightly, his eyes softening at the sight of you. His gun was no longer pointed at you, hanging at his side now. You did not miss the uptick of his lips, satisfaction flooding his face. But he still stayed on alert, ready to raise his weapon again if needed.
You sat up straight slowly, despite the commotion downstairs, keeping eye contact with him. Getting to your feet you tried to drown out the sounds of shouting downstairs, focusing only on him. His eyes flicked to your stomach, causing your hands to clench tighter around it and he made eye contact with you again.
“You can let me leave,” you said to him, your voice shaking.
Bucky’s laugh was humorless. “Y/N. Sweetheart, c’mon.” He was chastising you for even suggesting it with that tone.
“Buck?”
The sound of his voice rolling up the stairs made you freeze to the spot.
“I’ve got your doll in my scope. She looks good, Steve,” Bucky called back down towards the ground floor.
The sound of his foot on the bottom stair made you flinch. His footfalls were heavy, each step putting another nail in the coffin of your freedom. Your eyes flicked towards the open door and Bucky gave you a disappointed look, taking a step back towards it. He shook his head and you tore your eyes away from him, eyes fixated on the stairs.
He came into view quick, his height surpassing the staircase railing long before Yua or Natalie’s would. The same time elation flew through his features upon seeing you, you felt dread course through your veins. He was geared up, like he was going into a fight. Apparently, he did not underestimate the three of you.
Steve was a foot from you now, his gaze piercing and you were too afraid to take your eyes off him. There were a few moments of silence before he said quietly, “I admit, you have some loyal friends down there. They remind me of Buck.” You said nothing and he asked harshly now, “What did you think this was going to accomplish though, really, Y/N?”
You sucked in your bottom lip, unable to form a sentence in your frightened state about what he was there to do besides take you back.
“Answer me.”
Stammering, you said, “I… I just…” You were embarrassed he was shaking you up so bad. You had been in such a haze, hoping beyond reason that the three of you would eventually be able to settle down and it would blow over. The longer you had stayed away, the more the doubt it could work had been overshadowed by that terrible misleading feeling of hope.
Steve’s expression softened seeing you tripping over your words. He stepped closer and you instinctively stepped back. His lips formed into a thin line, stopping his advancement. “Y/N, doll, please. I want what is best for you. All I want is to take care of you. You worried me, doll. You worried me a lot. Do you know what it felt like to not know where you were? If you were safe? If the children were safe? Can you imagine how utterly upset you made me? How betrayed I felt when I realized you were gone? I leave to let you have a party with your friends, to give you space with them.” You almost flinched at the phrasing, like he had taken the words right out of your mouth. If he noticed, he did not show it. He continued on, “I leave a gift behind for you to find, something I built for you and the babies, and how do you repay me? You left. Without a word. Like I didn’t matter. Did you even see the gift?”
“No,” you whispered.
“Of course you didn’t. You didn’t care enough to look. You were only concerned with yourself. Out of everyone in the world, I didn’t think it would be you that would betray me like this. You told me you loved me.”
Heat rose to your cheeks as your eyes glistened with tears. He sounded deeply hurt, wounded. You could see it in his eyes.
“I can forgive you, Y/N. Trusting you is something else entirely. I don’t think that’s an option right now. But… I can forgive you. You just have to come back and be good.”
You averted your gaze, your chest tightening at his order.
Steve closed the space between you, and you did not move away this time. He hooked his fingers underneath your chin, tipping your head up. “It’s me…” Steve told you as his eyes hardened, and he warned gravely, “Or nobody.”
You did not have to imagine all the guns pointed at your friends downstairs. You either left with them both dead and back with Steve. Or left with them both alive and with Steve. Either way, he had you enveloped back to him. The degree of guilt is what you were choosing, that’s what he was giving you.
You were taking too long to answer.
Steve looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with Bucky. Bucky started walking towards the staircase where he could look down on the living room.
“Steve, don’t—” you choked out.
“I want to hear you say it.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“Good.”
You let out a strangled noise before you got out in between tears, “I won’t ever try to leave you again, I swear. I’ll stay home for you. I’ll take care of the twins. I’ll do what you ask, I’ll listen, like I promised. I’ll be happy.”
“Were you ever?” He asked coldly.
“I w-was,” you said shakily, nodding. Nodding to convince yourself, remind yourself that you had been. “I was, really.”
“And what changed that, hmm?”
“You… you locked me away in the house.”
His lips twitched at the accusation and you feared you had made a misstep, fearing for Yua and Natalie. He did not make a move though except to say, “And why did I do that?”
He wanted you to say what he believed. He wanted you to believe it too. The tears were fat rolling down your cheeks as you whispered, “Because… you wanted to keep me safe.”
“That’s right, doll,” Steve breathed easier, smiling. His fingers caressed your face. “That’s exactly what I was doing. And you pulling this little stunt proved my gut instinct was right, didn’t it? You need protection, especially from yourself. You are impulsive and don’t think about the long-term repercussions of your actions.” His hand came to rest on your abdomen, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, doll. I want you to just come home and let me take care of you. That’s what’s going to happen. Right?”
“Yes,” a voice that sounded like yours said; it was like you were outside your body. “Yes, I want that.”
“That’s what I thought,” Steve said, leaning forward and giving you a long kiss on your forehead.
“My friends?” you choked out.
Steve pulled away from you and smirked at you. “Hmm, maybe you can be concerned with more than yourself. Maybe I was too harsh there for a moment… what about your friends?”
“Please don’t hurt them. Please let them leave and go back home unharmed.”
He exhaled heavily and asked seriously, “And why should I do that?”
“Bucky would help you if you asked.” Bucky turned his head towards the pair of you and you tried to pretend like you did not notice his gaze. “It’s not their fault. I asked for help. It’s my fault. They shouldn’t be punished for my mistake. Please don’t make them pay for my behavior.”
Steve looked contemplative and you waited with bated breath, hoping he would react positively to your display of holding yourself liable. He wanted you to beg and you were giving it to him.
Over his shoulder, he finally ordered, “Let the ladies grab their things and get out of here. They’re safe… as long as Y/N continues to behave.” You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off by pressing a button on his earpiece. “Barton, we’re ready. Come on up.”
He grasped your arm and you tried to yank your arm away from him. He was far too strong and jolted you to him. “Don’t go messing this up now, Y/N. You were doing so well. Don’t make this harder for me than it has to be to get you in the damn car. You got what you wanted with your friends; you just need to uphold your side of the bargain.”
~~~
Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @roxyfan14-blog @mrsnegan25 @coconutqueen21
#steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark marvel#dark marvel fic#marvel fic#my shit
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