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polyamarhousgarden · 10 days

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Hello Libra, I just like to say that I really love your work and I love how you depict all these characters so well!

I was wondering if you can do some jealousy headcanons for the Lackadaisy characters?

Danke!! GN reader, most reference a relationship or romantic interest.

♣️Rocky - His jealousy is very obvious to anyone who bothers to pay attention. It is not less obvious or pathetic when you're in a relationship, either. Rocky will find any excuse to interrupt you and the other person, scare them off, redirect your attention, and so forth. It can become very distracting and annoying, so it's best to address the problem right away. The jealousy 100% stems from Rocky's fears of abandonment - not that he'd recognize that - so reassuring him and soothing that insecurity helps a lot. Sometimes his jealous reactions are just that, knee-jerk reactions that he doesn't fully think through. It's safe to say the insecurity is less of an issue the longer you both are together, especially if you're already a very affirming and affectionate partner.

♣️Freckle - The big-eyed boy has a quiet, passive jealousy that he may not notice right away. It stems from inadequacy, and he believes himself to be inadequate in many things, especially when it comes to relationships. He doesn't exactly have a lot of experience, you know? It'll be a constant needling build-up, though his uh, night time shooty activities helps get a lot of that aggression out. He's very open to talking things over, but you'd have to bring it up first. Freckle would rather stew in Catholic-level feelings of guilt before ever talking about it; but talks help a lot! Reassuring him goes a long way, and making sure he brings up his negative feelings before they get so bad.

♣️Ivy - While she's quite easygoing and not prone to jealous thoughts that often, when they do pop up, it manifests as an intense "my best-friend-who-I-tooootally-have-platonic-feelings-for-is-dating-someone-new-and-I-suddenly-hate-that-person". She pouts, she plots, she makes her displeasure known to you - she just gets an off feeling from that person. No, it's not mature, and she can get pretty catty about it - but she's also only 18~19. If you're femme then Ivy can easily dismiss her feelings as just missing her best friend - it'll take extra time to realize they aren't entirely platonic. If you both were together and already had conversations about this, that burning jealousy melts away to a little spark she feels now and again. She'll ignore it, knowing it's just a dumb thing that'll pass as soon as you're back at her side.

♣Mitzi - As much as she acts like she's above such things, Mitzi is the same as anyone else in developing jealous feelings. She recognizes them at once and just wants to bury them down, it's so embarrassing. It's even worse if she gets antsy about someone being overly friendly or flirty with you. What is she, a schoolgirl? The anger at herself might irk Mitzi even more than the person whose being so forward with you. She can get quite passive aggressive toward them, coating her barbs with honey - and that might get directed toward you if she feels you're also being too friendly with them. None of this lasts long - Mitzi would rather have a drink and kiss and make up. She's too old too ladylike for this silly nonsense.

♣Viktor - Just because he recognizes what he's feeling doesn't mean the old Slovak processes them in a healthy way (like, at all). To strangers, he's his usual frightening self, but to those who know him they can tell there's a distinct animosity coming off him. He's not a possessive type, but Viktor already feels miserable about himself and that he doesn't deserve you in the slightest - the idea of someone better coming along is not an impossibility. Now, he can't simply grab them by the neck and throw them out a window just for talking .. .and that'd upset you. So Viktor settles for being in a terrible mood until you soothe him. Attempting to talk him through it just makes him feel worse about himself.

♣Zib - Oh, he recognizes it quick, and Zib haaaates feeling this way. It's so pathetic, so annoying. He should be the bigger person, just suck it up and walk away, but ... nah. If he's been drinking, he's absolutely going to make snide comments and act inappropriate. You drag his drunk ass aside and he does feel a little (kinda) bad about he acted ... some days he's better about it. It's so cliche, but he knows what he's like as a partner. He doesn't offer much, and even if you've made it clear you still care about him, the insecurities and negative feelings can dig into him... especially after booze. He perks right up after some cuddling.

♣Atlas - He doesn't show it outwardly at all. Atlas keeps his impassive expression, outsiders can't tell the difference, but you and his two closest triggermen might pick up the iciness in his eyes. Eventually, that frost would melt into his voice. He would consider any jealous feelings beneath him, if he deigned to call them that. Instead, he'd translate it as disrespect: Whoever is being too personal with you and inspiring these feelings is disrespecting him. It's ... probably best that they move on.

🏵Serafine - Jealousy isn't something that comes easily to her. She's too free-spirited, and she doesn't like the idea of holding another down. She'd hate for you to restrict her, so why should she do the same to you? That said, there are a few times when it comes up. There are always those who want to flirt with you and get too close for her liking, but ... it's also fun to watch. She lets the little pangs of jealousy build up until you return to her side, and Serafine will tease you for doing it on purpose. There's a reason she likes to leave lipstick stains and bites on you. Note, if you try to incite jealousy in her on purpose, she'll see it as a game - but if you're seriously trying to provoke something, it's just irksome. Isn't that a bit childish?

🏵Nico - Like his sister, Nico isn't one for jealousy. He's inspired plenty of it and isn't a fan, and like Serafine, he won't tie you down if you don't do the same to him. Truthfully, he has much less patience for it. Some may think he doesn't feel jealous at all; but Nico is actually just good at dealing with it in a healthy way. He waits until you're back at his side and showers extra attention on you - it's pretty funny when the person who was flirting starts glaring at you. As long as you're not intentionally trying to get a rise out of him, he's chill.

🏵Mordecai - He's awful about it, made worse that he refuses to acknowledge it. It really doesn't kick in until you both have this sort-of-kind-of understanding that's a mess to navigate to begin with, never mind if jealousy comes into play. Mordecai both feels it strongly and denies it with as much strength. Some stranger trying to be smooth is irksome, but not the end of the world. But someone who has a sustained relationship with you? Who gets to touch you and be close to you on the regular? Nope. He's argumentative and prickly anytime they come up. By the time he figures out what his feelings are about, he'd rather chew off his own tail than ever bring it up.

🏵Wes - His flavor of jealousy tends to come from either inadequacy or possessiveness. If the person flattering you and getting too close is some idiot he works alongside, you better believe his hackles raise and he puts them in their place. If it's someone he can't immediately beat down, or if they seem ... well, better than him in some way, the jealousy quietly simmers underneath. Your initial attempts to talk it out are bust, considering the time period and his own machismo ... but he can come around once you reassure him. And wait, didn't he want this to be a casual thing? What's he getting so worked up about, anyway?

🏔Wick - When they build up, he quickly recognizes the jealous feelings in himself. It's something Wick is familiar with, and dislikes - as if it's a personal failing, and not a thing everyone goes through. Depending on how long it sticks around, he can become a little withdrawn and even unsure. It just feels so childish, but he's still glad to get some reassurances. He insists it's not necessary, but Wick still gives you that dopey, painfully affectionate smile you're used to. He's also someone who handles it maturely, and they seem to go as quickly as they come. They may linger if there's already some obstacle between you two - maybe he hasn't brought up his feelings, you're masc so he can't be as open with his affection, and so on - but he's still recognizing these negative feelings and willing to work through them.

#lackadaisy #mordecai heller

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polyamarhousgarden · 10 days

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Hello :3 Could you do either headcannons or oneshot for sleeping with Mordecai Heller?? No smut, just like literally sharing a bed lol. Love your writing!!

Thank you so much!! I ended up combining this with a few other requests on some cuddling headcanons, so do let me know if you'd like any follow-ups to this! I like to imagine he's got a whole unbreakable routine.

Pairing: Mordecai Heller/Reader

How do you cuddle with Mordecai Heller? Simple. You don’t.

Well, that isn’t entirely true. But it’s what you tell everyone — he has a reputation to uphold, after all. And it’s much easier than defining what “cuddling” means for the two of you.

Like with many aspects of your relationship with Mordecai, cuddling came little by little. He’s not keen on touch, even in the best of scenarios. Most days, being touched just feels like a million concentrated pinpricks. It’s almost painful sometimes, the way unwanted hands sear into his skin and imprint themselves on his nerves. Not to mention all the germs people have. Eugh.

You knew he was touch averse long before you ever started dating — you’ve seen the way he leans away from others when they go in for hugs, or the way he grimaces during pat-downs on jobs. It’s such an intrinsic part of him that you never expected it to change, and you’re okay with that.

But sometimes, he surprises you.

There’s little gestures that he does (after a considerable amount of self-talk, not that he’d ever tell you that) that truly make your heart melt.

Working up to sleeping in the same bed was an adventure all on its own. It’s quite the milestone of trust for him, with a weight that’s just a stone’s throw away from an outright proposal. This man has spent most of his life in the center of danger’s crosshairs, so to trust you enough to let down his walls… well, you get the idea.

He always falls asleep after you do. He sleeps on his side, facing the door, with a foot of space between you — no more, no less. He counts your breaths as you drift into sleep, and memorizes the way your body heat seeps through into his own. He commits your very presence to memory, and it quickly becomes difficult— no, impossible — to sleep when you’re not by his side. He likes to say it’s because his routine is broken, but you both know that’s a lie.

His fur is soft — that’s the first thing you think to yourself when Mordecai brushes his tail against your own one night. You hold your breath, waiting for him to pull back, like it was some sort of mistake… but he doesn’t. There’s no hiss, no flinch or startle… just peace. Calm. Your lips pull back in a soft smile as you bask in the moment, enjoying every second that you’re connected. You dare not say anything, afraid that if you did he’d overthink the moment, or shrink back from the intensity of his emotions. But he never pulls away, not until the sun is shining through your curtains and begging the two of you to rise.

From then on, that too becomes part of your shared routine.

And little by little, it grows.

It starts as a brush… and then intertwining. Then he does it while you read together in bed… and then on the couch.

When it’s you, touch can be… pleasant. It’s an unusual feeling, foreign, but not a bad one.

Little incidences like that slowly become more and more frequent. More openly devout in their meaning, their intensity. He never thought he’d feel this safe with anyone ever again, and it’s almost scary how deep his love runs for you.

Some days are better than others, of course. It’s never your fault, never. Sometimes he truly just cannot handle the sensation of it all. You like to joke with him a little when he puts his hands up as a ward.

Can’t have you getting too soft on me, you jest, I know, I’m addictive.

And of course he sputters, because he is not getting soft (yet another lie) but at the end of the day, he knows you won’t push him. He trusts you.

But you can always count on that last step of your routine. Every night at 10:30pm his tail wraps around yours, like clockwork. Stress melts into weightless peace in an instant, with the world as little more than a memory outside of the walls of your shared apartment. Some lovers parade their joy around in the streets under the light of day, thriving in the attention that their unity provides. But you and Mordecai belong to the night, wrapped up in quiet, intimate eternity. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

#lackadaisy #mordecai heller

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polyamarhousgarden · 10 days

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Hi iv really enjoyed your lackadaisy writing and was wondering if you’d be willing to write dating headcanons for Mordecai Heller?

He’s one of my favorites atm

A/n: hey everyone!! hope you're all having a good day!!! so a lot fo you requested mordecai dating headcanons, so here it is!! this will probably be the last headcanons I'll do, and I'll now stick to writing scenarios while also my main focus being continuing my fanfics. also going to start making up the plot for the potential rocky fic. though that all may come out in summer, since I'm slowly but surely exam seasons. anyways- hope you all enjoy this!!

Mordecai Heller x gn! reader general

-Mordecai is definitely cold toward you the very first time you meet. He will not speak to you about himself or his interests, he will keep the conversations short and straight to the point and he will not care about a single thing you do, only he will be annoyed when you do a task wrong.

-If you’re a regular of sorts, or someone who will become his partner or co-worker, then you’ll learn a few more bits and information about him and if stayed long enough, you will get a few more lines other than orders about what he feels about a certain subject matter or a few other workers around here (mostly complaints about the Savoy siblings, given how much he has to spend time with them on the daily). even then, he merely considers you an acquaintance. And it will take many years and much more meetings for him to see you as a friend. and when it does happen, it is subtle, but the conversations are more apparent, and your opinion on different matters is valued much more.

-Being his lover, however, will take much longer, and needs a much more deal of spending time and getting to know him. Which can be hard given how closed off he is about his life and past. Despite that, it’s not an impossible task. Rather, it’s made extremely difficult due to Mordecai’s own lack of interest in such things, his trust issues, and a bundled amount of feelings of unworthiness towards such a thing as love. He believes he doesn’t need it nor does he deserve it, and he doesn’t mind either of those.

-However, though his feelings are completely uninterested in such matters, that doesn’t mean he won’t fall for someone, which in this case, becomes you after half a decade or so of being friends with him.

-the first to realize their feelings is most likely you. since Mordecai will first assume that his emotions towards you are just ones out of the care and respect he has for you as a friend. If you realize them, you must keep quiet about them for the most part, since Mordecai won’t really understand why there would be such a feeling harboring between you two, and he must process his own feelings himself before accepting yours. When he does realize them, oh boy, it’s rough. He feels guilty for loving you, because he doesn’t trust himself with any intimate relationship. Given how his friendship went with Viktor, he was already extremely hesitant about the idea of another friend, now, a lover and a partner, someone that he needs to trust and share a part of his life with, and they must do with him, is frightening and confusing to say the least. As said before, he doesn’t believe he’s worthy of such things. And now that he wants it from you, he feels like a villain of sorts. Taking something that doesn’t belong to him in the first place.

-It will take quite a few months for him to accept these feelings of his, almost half a year even. You seriously need to be very patient with him, something that he will appreciate the world of when you do. his confession is short, and straight to the point. Though, a few ticks of stress and anxiousness can be seen in him. For example, his ears are twitching here and then, his tail is flicking up and down in his seat and he cannot for the life of him seem to stare at you in the eye for more than three seconds. His words are quick, and his tone is a bit clumsy for a guy like him. at the end of it, the flicks of his tail are quicker in speed, and now, he’s looking straight at you with a hesitant look, as if he’s regretting the confession already a second after it’s done.

-He’s calmed down and surprised when you do accept his confession, and he’d not know what to do at that point. he’d nod his head, clear his throat, and thank you. “very well then,” his ears twitched a bit. “ I suppose we’d have to…plan a date now?”

-It takes him some time, but with some help from yours, he finds, in his opinion, the true meaning of dating someone. It is not about dates and being over the top like he presumed, yet it is a way of spending time and enjoying each other’s presence, and being loyal to one another for more than anyone else.

-So as you can guess, dates are quite rare. He never sees the point in it, though if you want such an activity to happen every once in a while, perhaps with a bit of pleading and coaxing you’ll get him to begrudgingly get time out of his day to do such things with you. yet, even though he seems annoyed by the entire occasion at first, you find him calm and even smiling at some point the more time you spend with him on the said dates.

His love language is spending time with one another. Though at the start of the relationship, miscommunication will be common, since Mordecai isn't one to speak about his feelings, if you try your best to tackle it healthily, your relationship with him will be all about communication and it will be the very reason why it’s so strong at the end of it all. It also makes him see communication as the most important part of the relationship, so he’s completely honest, brutally so at times.

--The love language he’d like to receive most is the same, though he does get a bit flustered anytime you use words of affirmation and compliment him, then quickly denies your compliments or thanks you for them.

-Not at all a PDA person, nor is he a physically affectionate guy in private either. He doesn’t like physical contact, either finding it too stuffy or too warm for his liking and just not being in much of a mood for it most times. Though, if in a situation you truly seem like you need a warm embrace or a hand to hold, he wouldn’t mind giving that to you, though he’ll be a bit flustered and quiet the entire time while doing so. He wouldn’t ever say this out loud, but his favorite act of affection from you is when you kiss or peck his cheek. It's surprising to him and it makes him melt a bit, being treated with such softness is quite rare in his life, so he doesn’t know what to do when you peck him, but his heart is beating so fast he can’t focus. He could only look at you in shock and touch the cheek you have kissed in instinct. Give him a forehead kiss and you’ll have an extremely quiet Mordecai awaiting you. he’s processing every second of that quick kiss and he’s speechless by how much it moved him.

-Word about your relationship will never spread out, since Mordecai is extremely private about such things. No one realizes you two are dating unless one of you says so. The only ones who do notice by connecting the dots themselves are the Savoy siblings and Viktor.

-Whether you like it or not, information about Mordecai’s family will mostly never be revealed. You’ll most likely just know that he has two sisters, but that is all he will ever tell you. and in fairness, he never tries to force you to speak about yours either, so it’s a mutual agreement at times to just avoid the topic unless it is deemed necessary by a dangerous circumstance to be said.

-He doesn’t have many hobbies, but if you still try to enjoy a few things he does such as reading the same book he has on his shelves, you’ll be met with a cautiously excited and info-dumping Mordecai who starts debates and discussions with you about which part of the books you enjoyed and detested.

-He’ll try to indulge a bit in a few hobbies you have as well, but he’ll probably not get much invested in them. Though, he still sees it as a worthy journey, since in the end you were smiling and excited when explaining things to him.

-Mordecai feels much more comfortable ranting to you than anyone else. So most times when he comes back from work for the day and has a weekend to look forward to, he spends that time drinking tea with you while speaking about anything and nothing that is on his mind. Treat this like it was diamonds in a mine full of charcoal. because not everyone has the luck to meet this side of Mordecai Heller. He’s more expressive when he’s with you, more open with his emotions, which means the level of trust he has with you is most than anyone else’s.

He’ll listen to all your rants and complaints as well, and if needed, he will give honest advice for your problems. Don’t expect any comfort, though. Because he isn't the best one for such things and he makes that clear all the time before you start your rant.

-Wherever you live, whether it's in a separate apartment from his or if you’ve moved in with him, it will be extremely clean. Whether it’s because of his actions or yours, a completely clean and tidied-up house becomes the absolute norm in your life. If you were one who never really cared about those things, well, you will have to at some point for his sake, since he’s always extremely uncomfortable in messy areas.

-Mordecai Heller loves you, but he won’t ever verbally say it. yet, you’ll always know that, because his actions speak much louder than words ever can, and you understand every word he's saying when he’s making tea for you or asking about your day, speaking to you on the daily or just sitting next to you. you know he loves you, and you know he loves you back. and perhaps, that is why this relationship worked in the first place. It will have its hardships, yes, but like any other relationship, it doesn’t mean it won’t have its good moments either.

#lackadaisy #mordecai heller

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polyamarhousgarden · 10 days

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If you don’t mind, may I request headcanons for the lackadaisy characters reacting to the reader(GN) saving them by taking a bullet that was going to hit them and almost dies from it?

GN reader, most of these imply the reader and character are in a romantic relationship or at least close. obvs mentions of injury, blood, morphine, hospitals etc and the angst that follows! Our kitties arent doing well :(

♣️Rocky - The fact you took a bullet for him is ... a lot. That takes processing, something Rocky isn't good at. It ends up manifesting as a long, drawn-out anxiety attack that gives him jitters, a little dissociation and mild mania. Eventually the Arbogasts asks Freckle to just get him out of the house and do something with him; they'd call when you woke up. When you're awake, the tabby is making his usual quips and chatter, but his off-kilter mood is obvious to even your morphine-addled mind. Rocky's more disheveled than usual and clearly hasn't slept. His shirt still has blood on it - your blood.

He's is ready to go absolutely feral on the person who did this, channeling all his fear and guilt into a single plan of revenge. He's so full of this manic energy that it's hard for him to keep still, let alone eat or sleep. But first! You're awake! Even if it's clear he's unwell, he's trying to smile and assure you that you'll be back on your feet in no time! So don't you worry, he and Freckle will take care of it. No amount of exhausted arguing will divert him from this.

You're stuck in bed for days, so you don't know exactly what happens. It's up to Freckle to tell you, as he went along with his cousin - but he's tight lipped about it, and fidgety, like always. Once that's dealt with, Rocky's fixating switches to fussing over you. And his heart is in the right place, but ... he's exhausted, all that lack of sleep and emotional turmoil catching up. Eventually he just passes out on the bed and you let him curl up at your side for a while. Rocky's excellent company (and a questionable nurse) in the following weeks. He has plenty of stories, music and chatter to keep you occupied.

♣️Freckle - He is, uh, not coping with this well. At all. He jumps to action to shoot whoever did this... Several times, and keeps shooting long after they're dead. He doesn't stop until his cousin calls out to him. Freckle is in something of a daze on the way to the back-alley doctor - wow, people have a lot of blood in their body, but now it's all over you - and doesn't start throwing up until the bullet gets pulled out of you.

He's sent out of the makeshift operating room because even Rocky can tell he won't cope with it. How could he? Isn't this his fault? Maybe if he reacted sooner, it wouldn't have happened. The poor guy is sleepless for days and consumed with too much guilt to visit until he's all but dragged in your sickroom by Ivy. Freckle fidgets often and struggles to look into your eyes - it goes a long way to just reassure him and promise you aren't angry. He shot the bastard who did it, after all.

He visits most days, bringing soup (his mother seems to think you have a terrible flu?) and slowly, slowly talking more and relaxing. He has a better bedside manner than he thinks; Freckle's a fairly quiet companion and has a good idea of what you need. Changing your bandages makes him feel pretty awful, but he's a good help. If you decide to continue bootlegging after your recovery, he's extra jumpy and protective of you.

♣️Ivy - Ohhh nonononono no, this is not happening. She's grabbing your shoulders and yanking you toward her, ignoring the blood getting all over her. She's a mess and doesn't even think of the danger you're both in; the bullets and gunfire keeps on all around while she holds onto you and tries to pull you to safety. Small as she is, with pure determination and adrenaline, she makes it.

You don't remember much after that, but the girl's right in your face as you slowly come to. Ivy looks a complete mess; having been crying for the the last hour, and before that watching intently while a bullet was yanked out of you. At least she washed the blood off her arms, but the clothes she was wearing are utterly ruined. Ivy alternates between chattering apologies and quiet fidgeting, even if you're too loopy to respond properly.

Eventually she has some strings pulled to get you to a nice hospital, with no one asking questions. This whole situation alters her for the worse; she gets more frequent nightmares and struggles to focus in school. Nearly every day she comes by you bring you snacks and magazines and nice flowers for your room; sometimes seeming a little frantic, like she was trying to make up for something.

♣️Mitzi - She is furious. Someone told her when you woke up, and you hear her swishing dress and clacking heels rushing down the hall. Her eyes are red, her make up is ruined and she practically shakes you. Even though you're still full of morphine, she demands you promise to never, EVER do that again. Zib has to remind her that a) you're still drugged out of your mind and b) the bandages are getting bloody.

While she'd want you in a proper hospital, they'd ask too many questions. You stay in the apartment above the cafe. She's too squeamish (and guilty) to help change your bandages, but she does bring you food, some records to listen to, an extra pillow, and so on. It's obvious Mitzi struggles to talk casually, as if nothing happened. When you're sleeping, she'll sit at your bedside. If it seems like the wound - or maybe a dream? - is bothering you, she gently pets your hair until you settle.

♣️Viktor - He's only in shock for a few seconds before instinct and absolute fury takes over. The perpetrator is not alive for long, but their last moments are painful. Not that you're around to see it - you've longed passed out from bloodloss. The only thing keeping Viktor from totally rampaging is the awareness that you're in a critical condition.

His old soldier training takes over; he's able to push emotions aside and get you to Elsa, the only one he trusts with this situation. While you're being operated on, he's still stewing. If whoever is responsible still has friends or a leader around, well, that won't be the case for long. Mordecai considers stopping the big Slovak to make him see reason ... but just ends up helping him instead. 'Keeping him out of trouble', the shadowy man claims, but really he's just as angry.

Once you're awake and coherent, it takes Viktor a while to sit in with you. He's disheveled and tired, and has trouble meeting your eyes. His bedside manner is ... basically nonexistent, but earlier Elsa walked him through the basics of what foods are best and how the bandages need to be fixed. After this, he's adamant about not wanting you on jobs any more, even if you're recovering well. The fact you took the bullet for him is even worse, in his mind. He could've taken it; you should have let him take it.

♣️Zib - Nope, he's not okay. Definitely not coping well with this situation. It's bad enough he got involved in one gunfight, now a second and this happens? He wants to get the hell out of this speakeasy. Anyone can see how jittery he is. Zib alternates between smoking too much and avoiding your sickbed, or drinking too much and sleeping by your side. When it's two am and he's resting beside you and listening to your labored breathing, he really wishes he was shot instead.

He thinks he's pretty shit at caring for anyone, but he's actually not bad, especially when he's half-sober. Helping with the bandages gets him feeling queasy and guilty, but getting food and keeping you company isn't so bad. Now and then, he asks if you still want to hang around this place - what do you think about leaving, with him and the band? If you're a triggerman for Lackadaisy, why don't you reconsider? Is it really worth it? And so on.

Expect a lot of late-night discussions when he's restless and can't keep his mind wandering. What if you had died, what if you get sick like this, what if you just left with him? Where would you all go? More than once you've fallen asleep in the middle of his talking, but he doesn't mind.

♣️Atlas - Everything is spinning, but you can feel his arms around you. You don't realize how much blood has soaked through his suit. And for the first time, you hear him shout - his voice resonates through his chest as you rest against it.

Eventually you wake up in a hospital bed, though the blanket is something from home and there's flowers all over the windowsill - wait, is that a radio? The nurses don't say much, but you're also not in a state to talk. You aren't sure if it's been one day or many, but finally he visits. He looks more tired than you've seen him, and far more solemn. He puts his hand on your's and explains you'll be leaving the hospital soon and recovering in his manor, along with a live-in nurse. This is quite a shock if you two aren't married, but if you are, it's nice to go home again. The guest room is already set up with what you need.

You don't hear whatever came of that triggerman, though the Lackadaisy staff whisper about Viktor and Mordecai being away for some time. Atlas doesn't want you about the cafe or speakeasy anymore, or out on your own in general. It'll take time for you to recover, but even longer for his paranoia and agitation to lessen. He seems the same to his business associates and employees, but those who know him better ...

🏵Serafine - She only pauses for a moment, then jumps to action. Serafine doesn't have to say anything to Nico, he's already picking you up while she mows down whoever shot you. Outwardly she's calm, inwardly she's furious. At the gunman, at herself, at you. Well, they keep a doctor on call for this reason. Serafine holds you very carefully in the car ride to the hotel, alternating between talking about revenge and reassuring you that you'll be just fine. No need to fret.

Everything's fuzzy after that. Serafine isn't there when you awaken, but you're in her bed. If you're a girl, you're probably in her nightie, too (when did your clothes get changed?). There's warm food on the nightstand, enough morphine to take out an elephant and a little vase of flowers. It's like any other morning when you wake up in her bed, well. Except the drugs and the hole in your chest.

Eventually she comes back, with more food and a disturbingly calm demeanor. Whoever that gunner was, well, they're dealt with, and so is their boss. Isn't that good news, cher(ie)? You just rest up and you'll be back on your feet. The stitches are neat and the bandages aren't too tight - understandable, considering how much she was threatening the doctor. Nico tells you all about it later.

🏵Nico - He uh, probably manhandles you more than he should as he gets you into the car. He wants to retaliate - to bash in the gunman's head rather than put a bullet in it - but Nico knows a bad shot when he sees it. He grits his teeth and keeps you in his arms while Serafine floors it, not caring how much blood gets on his clothes or white coat.

As much as he wants to sit in on the operation, it makes him restless. So he settles for pacing in and out of the room, often reminding the doctor how unfortunate it'll be for him if something goes wrong. He's quietly boiling in the perpatrator, too; by the time you're bandaged and tucked in bed, he and his sister already have a plan of retaliation. While you're still doped up and asleep, he gives you a kiss on the brow and disappears to get the job done.

Once you come to, there's flowers on the nightstand and a maid coming in with room service. You stay in the Savoy's suite during your recovery; Nico only sleeps on the couch because he moves a lot in his sleep and doesn't want to disturb you (he still naps right by your side). He's not careful enough to help with changing bandages, but he's excellent company when you're bored. Nico only laughs when you bring up the gunman. Old news, he's taken care of it. He'll even share the grisly details.

🏵Mordecai - He doesn't react to the blood immediately. His mind tells him to clear the area first - but. That's a lot of blood. He's acutely aware the bullet was meant for him. The logical side starts to short-circuit once you're in the backseat of the car, bleeding all over the coat he wrapped around you. He knows how to put pressure on a wound, and he thinks he's staying calm, but he snaps viciously at Niko to stop screwing around and drive faster.

He bothers the doctor so much while they work - hovering, observing, commenting - he gets pulled out of the room. Whoever shot you is going to be dealt with, and whoever ordered the hit. Mordecai just wants to make sure you'll survive the next few hours, as that'll determine how he deals with them.

The first few days he's agitated and not sleeping well. Mordecai alternates between fussing and fixating on your wound, and bothering the hell out of whoever's looking after you. He really doesn't settle until the gunman is well and dead, and you're more coherent and talking. Expect lots of lecturing about how stupid it was for you to get in the way, how you need to fix the bandage this way or that, and have you been eating? When Mordecai's away, the Savoys like to come in and cackle about what he did to the gunman. They were also apparently given instructions by him not to bother you, which they gleefully ignore.

🏔Wick - He's completely frozen in place, stuck by distress and panic. It occurs to him to shout for help not when more bullets fly by, but when you start coughing up blood. He has enough wherewithal to get you to the hospital - somehow driving without crashing into anything - but once you're taken away, he just crumples. He's utterly distraught.

Once his mental faculties have recovered just enough to let him stand, he paces. And paces. The receptionist in the waiting room manages to get him to make a phone call; he tries to inform Lacy to just take the day off tomorrow, but the events of the evening all come spilling out. If you both were innocent bystanders in the incident, that's one thing, but if you were involved in some criminal business and that's what put Wick in the line of fire ... well, Lacy has some choice words for her hopelessly infatuated boss.

Once you're stable and resting, he finally allows himself to breathe. The receptionist all but shoves him home because he looks like a mess and he's frightening other patients. By the time you can accept visitors he's (somewhat) rested and bringing you flowers. There's still an awkwardness, so ... at some point, talking about everything is gonna have to happen. But Wick wants you to rest first, and he needs to figure out his own thoughts, without the whiskey.

#mordecai heller #lackadaisy

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polyamarhousgarden · 10 days

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Kissing: Mordecai Heller

Pairing: Mordecai Heller/Reader

Content Warnings: None! This is very tender -- Mordecai is such a complex character, and I love him a lot.

Looking for Rocky's? Go HERE

Kissing Mordecai is like stepping out of a loud party and into the night. He's a step away from the busy world, a little token of calm in the midst of chaos.

Loving Mordecai is complicated. Anyone close to him can tell that you're special to him, even if he doesn't express his affections traditionally. He doesn't hold your hand in public, but he does keep a hand on the small of your back in crowds. He doesn't leap up to greet you when you enter the room, but he always gravitates towards you throughout the night. And he won't seek out your affections whenever you wake up or leave the room… but when the day's been rough, and night blankets the bustling town his lips find your temple, soothing away the horrors of the day. And it's calm, filled with a tenderness reserved only for you. Only ever for you.

Kissing Mordecai is rare, saved for special occasions away from prying eyes. But that's what makes them so special. Truthfully, expressions like this are… foreign to him. Romance is complicated enough as is, but the whole concept of physical touch is… difficult, for lack of a better word. For the longest time he would startle at the accidental brush of shoulders -- so it's safe to say that your first kiss doesn't come for quite a while. You know him well enough that it's best to let him initiate, to let him go at his own pace. But that's more than alright. He has his own ways of showing his love.

When he does kiss you, he tends to gravitate towards your wrists, temple, and forehead. And truthfully, he prefers the same.

His eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips to the inside of your wrist, sighing quietly. His shoulders drop and his brows unfurrow, temporarily relieved of the outside world's burdens. Peace such as this outweighs the price of gold in droves. You've never quite been able to convey the tranquility that Mordecai always seems to bring with actions like this, but while he would never say it outloud… he feels the same. A lifetime of unspoken words are pressed into your skin before he reluctantly opens his eyes. He glances up at you half-lidded, squeezing your wrist. (I love you, his actions say.) Slowly, you turn your wrist in his grasp to cup his face, giving him plenty of time to pull away… but he doesn't. (I love you, his inaction says.) You press your lips to the center of his forehead gingerly, returning every quiet ounce of devotion in the few short seconds you're united. (I love you too, you think to yourself.)

#lackadaisy #mordecai heller

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polyamarhousgarden · 10 days

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Mordecai Heller x GN!Reader

> Requested by @scrunkalicious | I thought I needed details to come up with anything, but I managed with a simple prompt just fine! Feel free to ask another request with the specifications you mentioned. :)

PROMPT: N/A

It is going to take a very, very long time to break down Mordecai's walls enough for him to entertain the idea of a relationship, especially if he wasn't the one to initially fall for you. It's crucial that you gain his trust and respect before trying to go for anything romantic, and it's more likely to win him over if it's a slow, gradual progression. He's not going to be the one to ask you out first, either, you'll need to put in work to get him to let you into his life.

Mordecai tends to be subtle and 'quieter' when it comes to displays of affection; he loathes PDA, both as a witness and participant, and goes so far as to avoid even mentioning that he's taken or citing you as his partner. He highly prefers it to be a private affair, both because he finds it to be more intimate and meaningful that way, and he's paranoid that anyone around him could use the fact that he has a soft spot for you against him. Though, the fact that he doesn't stop you from getting up close to him or having any kind of conversation with him tips off the people around him to the fact that you're more than just an acquaintance.

He goes out of his way to avoid physical contact of any kind to begin with, but if you've got him in the right place at the right time, he just melts. He's been so touch starved for so long that any affection at all is like a breath of fresh air to him, and he'll cling to that for as long as he can. If he's exhausted from a grueling day of work and too tired to put up his stoic, reserved front, he'll maybe give you a fleeting kiss or let you cuddle up next to him in bed, but it's rare he'll ever initiate physical affection. He's more than willing to let you dote on him, however.

He isn't particularly fond of using petnames or terms of endearment, but he'll tolerate being called 'sweetheart' or 'darling' sparingly, so long as there's no one else present to overhear. He's not going to tell you how good it makes him feel.

It's important to him that his partner is well-groomed, hygenic, and dressed properly, and if he finds that you fall short in any of these aspects, he'll just take to handling it himself. He's not above washing and bathing you, dressing you in the mornings, trimming your hair or helping you shave. If he thinks your outfit is too wrinkled, he'll smooth it out for you. If he isn't fond of how your hair is done up, he'll fix it. He doesn't quite take personal boundaries into account, he just wants his partner to be presentable.

If you aren't working for Marigold at the time you're together, Mordecai is extremely vocal and adamant about the fact that he doesn't want you to be involved in it in the slightest for your own sake, and if you are working together, it's likely he'll try and talk you down from your position, as he did with Viktor. (Excluding the kneecapping part. ...Maybe.) He stresses for your safety in that regard, whether you're involved through being close to him or directly working for the gang, and it's pretty apparent when he does.

Mordecai's top love language is 100% acts of service, no contest. He takes pride in doing things for you, taking on tasks and chores that you'd otherwise have to deal with on your own, cleaning and tidying your home without you even having to ask. It lets him show him that he loves you and cares about you in a way that doesn't require him being overly sappy or touchy, and he highly appreciates that.

To Mordecai, being vulnerable around you is his way of showing that he loves you. Having an opportunity to be around someone he doesn't constantly have to stay on-guard with is a much needed change of pace for him, and a display of his trust in you. Something as simple as not wearing his full uniform around you or not being as stiff and argumentative as he would be with his coworkers and peers means a lot on his part.

He can be rather controlling, not for the sake of being manipulative or stripping you of your autonomy, but he's confident in the fact that he knows best, and he wants what's best for you. He won't force you into anything, but if he believes you could be doing something more efficiently and effectively, he's sure to let you know. This can fuel some light bickering and disagreements, but it's always meant well- he's just very stubborn about it.

He doesn't often enjoy any kind of dates, but every now and then he'll save up a bit of extra money and treat you out to a nice, classy formal dinner; ensuring that everything is kosher and up to his standards beforehand. It's nothing sappy or overtly romantic, but gifting his partner something expensive (enough to be high quality, but not so much it's gaudy and frivolous) is something that's rather important to him, seeing how impoverished he had been growing up. He's also not opposed to taking a brisk stroll with you.

Other notes: this was a little difficult considering the fact I don't envision Mordecai as a very romantic person, so I hope these aren't bland at all- it's also notable that I think Mordecai would treat a male, female and nonbinary partner very differently, but I tried to keep these as vague as possible nonetheless

#lackadaisy #mordecai heller

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polyamarhousgarden · 10 days

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Mordecai Headcanons

Here is some Mordecai Heller headcanons that I had floating around in my brain and I hope everyone enjoys!

Is not good at recognizing feelings.

He does recognize that he enjoys your company and will go out of his way to spend time with you.

Was caught talking about you a tad too much when someone asked him if he had a crush on you (Mordecai.exe has stopped working)

Would absolutely deny such an accusation but not because he didn't love you, no he denies it cause the word 'crush' seems to juvenile for how he feels about you.

Would avoid you for the next couple days while he worked through his feelings and came to the conclusion that he wanted a relationship with you.

He isn't good at romance or doing flashy things, so instead, he shows up at your apartment with some flowers.

He tells you about how much he enjoys your company and that he would like to have a relationship with you.

"Please accept these flowers and excuse my recent behavior. If it is amenable, I would like to continue our outings and... if you would agree, make our relationship official."

Once you're in a relationship Mordecai is very protective of you. He knows the bad things that can happen, and he will protect you at all costs.

Please let him clean. He has very high standards and he recognizes that they are difficult for other people. As long as you clean up after yourself, he will be happy.

Loves cooking for you and he's not half bad at it. He enjoys seeing the look on your face when he makes you something you enjoy.

When in public he will often kiss the back of your hand but almost all other PDA is off the table. He is a very private person.

Now when you are in private, he can't keep his hands off you. He's hugging you, holding you close, kissing you, he just doesn't want to keep his hand off you.

His favorite way to kiss you is quick, unexpected kisses when you’re distracted.

Sleeping together for the first time is an experiment, he hasn't shared a bed with anyone in a long time, but he likes having you close.

He sleeps like a board with the occasional twitch of his tail or whiskers, you curled up next to him and nuzzled into his side and his arm around you.

He almost always wakes up before you, choosing to watch you sleep before slipping out of bed and making breakfast for you both.

He asks you to marry him one evening when you’re just sitting at home on the couch together, pulling out a ring from his vest pocket and offering it to you.

His love language is acts of service and spending time together.

Please don't make him have a huge wedding, he will if you really want to, but his nerves will be shot.

Mordecai does not want children. They are noisy and messy, plus he can't see himself as a good father.

NSFW

Is big into aftercare, he already has water ready for you and will offer you a bath or shower while he changes the sheets.

He will not admit it, but he enjoys coming on your chest and stomach. It satisfies the need of his to mark you as his.

He prefers positions where he can see your face and looking into your eyes. It's so intimate for him.

He doesn't feel the need to masturbate by himself, preferring to have sex with you or mutual masturbation.

Will never say yes to public sex, he could not handle the horror of being caught.

He can go a few rounds but prefers slow, sensual love making to a quickie any day. Quickies just don't have any appeal to him.

Mordecai watches you sleep on the freshly made bed, your chest slowly rising with each breath. He enjoys how the moonlight spills through the blinds on the window and illuminates your face. He lets a smile cross his face before leaning down and planting a kiss on your lips. He would not trade this for anything.

#lackadaisy #mordecai heller

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polyamarhousgarden · 10 days

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Hi! I was wondering if i could request Mordecai Heller x gn reader dating hc’s?

Mordecai Heller GN dating Headcanons

Note(s) : Uh, so, I'm kind of going through a sexuality crisis while I write this, so the romance aspect is sort of lost, I'm sorry.

I think he'd most appreciate somebody who won't dance around subjects, he can't read emotions well and so people being coy just doesn't make any sense to him, he prefers somebody that's straightforward.

Mordecai is fairly demanding, but he doesn't mean it to be a dick, he just has preferences and won't be with you if you aren't them. He doesn't expect you to bend over backwards and only do things he likes, so he won't bend over backwards only doing things you like.

He'd frankly prefer you to have a style that's symmetrical and clothing that's clean and proper, if you can't afford that or have an unsymmetrical face or body, he tends to stare a lot and be more snarky towards you. Mordecai won't end the relationship over that, it just bothers him a little.

But he's more than willing to pay for symmetrical clothes, or just steal the clothes off of a corpse for you.

He wants to teach you how to use a gun, just so you can defend yourself in emergencies. Mordecai always keeps a gun hidden by your bedside table, just in case of a break in.

That is if you aren't already working for Asa / know how to use a gun already, in which case he's slightly less overbearing but will still insist on sharpening your skills a little.

You two may or may not live together, it just depends on what both of you are comfortable with. He definitely doesn't want to share a bed, he'd only want to sleep with you if it's a situation where you need to, or you just fall asleep from exhaustion on the couch or something.

You and him keep your relationship secret in case somebody could use it against you, but somehow, someway, Serafine and Nicodeme find out. Mordecai has no idea how, neither do you, they just... Did.

Serafine and Nicodeme tease you two about your relationship all the time, luckily never in public. Cheesy things like 'aww, you two look so cute together', just to see Mordecai's face drop, he's mortified whenever he sees the siblings and you happen to also be near.

If you two were together when he was working for Lackadaisy, I imagine that he was the one trying to convince you to leave for Marigold. Your relationship could end over this if you refuse to leave, and while he'll hesitate in killing you, he won't be afraid to shoot you in the leg if you end up on a mission against each other.

Mordecai doesn't like PDA at all, it makes him feel awkward and uncomfortable, especially in really crowded areas or where people who know him are. If you try to initiate a hug or a kiss he sort of just stands there in complete and utter disgust or begins hissing.

He's not cuddly or lovey dovey when you two are alone, either, he gives you a small kiss on the cheek if it's been a hard mission and you're injured, but it's a little stiff and he clearly only did it to make you feel better.

Mordecai is semi okay with hugging, it just depends on when and where, if you two are alone? Here, a quick side hug. If you're in a crowd? Don't even touch him he will probably transform into a ficus.

Surprisingly he's an alright dancer, just only when he's alone, and maybe if he's alone with you he can dance with you. He can appreciate the symmetry and beautiful hard work that goes into more classical dances, like ballroom dancing or ballet, but he despises the free form moves of things like Jazz, it's too liquid and unpredictable for him.

#lackadaisy #mordecai heller

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polyamarhousgarden · 14 days

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Yeah bones is gonna be added to the list of fos lmao

#marh rambles

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polyamarhousgarden · 20 days

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CEDRICK JUAN as PADRE JOSE BURGOS in GOMBURZA (2023) | dir. pepe diokno

#not selfship #but good god #i wanna watch it #gomburza #jose burgos

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polyamarhousgarden · 23 days

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Hello I'm a sucker for Hellsing (always had been akcgdjjd) and seeing your one shot for Santana and Anderson made me melt

I loved seeing Santana's softness towards Matteo and how Matteo trusted her

Though the wariness and hostility Anderson had with Santana hurt it hurt so good that I'm just here going OUO at the day he just completely falls for her (god knows his kids already love her too bits)

Ugh catch me returning to this fic for comfort reads akfhehdhfh

Title: At the Art Gallery

Pairing: Santana x Alexander

Words: 4,371

Summary: Santana, visiting the London art museum, unexpectedly comes across a lost child and ends up stumbling across a piece of art not listed in the museum's directory.

At The Art Gallery

Santana gazed at the giant painting of an impressionist landscape hung on the gallery wall, her unnerving lack of blinking concealed from behind a pair of sunglasses. She stood leaning just slightly back, her arms folded across her chest as she quietly marveled over the minute brush strokes still raised ever so slightly from the extremely old canvas. She didn't need to stand so close to see all the minute details- she could've easily stood ten, fifteen, even twenty feet away and still see everything just as crisply but there was something about standing in front of a giant, looming masterpiece, right in front of it, that made Santana feel close to God.

She had just closed her eyes to pray when the sound of a small, rapid heartbeat and quiet whimpers of distress immediately snapped her out of her worshipful reverie and with narrowed, searching eyes she turned and scanned the room quickly before zeroing in on the tiny figure of a teary-faced dark haired boy, no older than perhaps four years old, if that. He was wearing a deep green shirt with a dinosaur on it, denim shorts, and yellow sneakers. His olive complexion was ruddy and blotchy around his chubby cheeks as he stood still, wringing his hands and looking around. Santana paused for a second but when a cursory sweep of the other adults in the gallery proved nobody was paying attention to the child, she quickly made her way over and, after pushing her shades up onto the top of her head, knelt down on one knee in front of him with a small smile.

"Howdy there pardner," she drawled softly, "are you lost?"

The little boy pulled his hands away from his face, revealing red-rimmed, verdant eyes. He nodded.

"I'm so sorry," Santana offered softly. "My name is Santana; I can help. What's your name?"

"um, Matteo." He mumbled as he wiped away yet another tear.

Santana cocked her head at the italian accent and resolved to speak slower since she didn't really know any Italian and wasn't sure how much English he knew. "Who did you come with, Matteo?"

Matteo's bottom lip quivered. "The Fahser. Broshers and sisters."

Santana nodded although she couldn't help but notice the way he said "the father" and not "my father"- it was probably a translation thing. She was just grateful he spoke coherent enough English. "Okay, your father. What does he look like?"

For a moment, a sunny disposition overtook the little boy's gloomy demeanor. He smiled up at her, green eyes twinkling. "The Fahser big! Soooooo big!" He said proudly, "And! And strong!" He grabbed the front of his shirt, "Like dino!"

"Like dino?" Santana indulged, "Can you show me what dino is like? What does dino say?"

Matteo held his hands up in front of him like claws and offered a little "rawr" that nearly sent her to her knees with how cute it was.

Santana grinned a fangless grin. "Woooow! Your father is so strong!" She drawled, and Matteo, now thoroughly distracted from his fear of being lost by this kind stranger willing to listen to him talk about who was clearly his favorite person, nodded and beamed at her, his tear streaks drying slowly but surely.

"Mhm! And! And ah–um, kind!" Matteo added eagerly. "So nice! He reads to me! I colour picture for him and he loves it! He puts on the wall!"

"How lovely! Matteo, what colour is his hair?" She asked, taking a lock of her own hair and pointing at his hair before pointing at the lock of hair in her hand, "Is it like yours and mine? Dark?"

Matteo shook his head.

Santana pointed to his yellow sneakers. "What about like this? Light?"

The little boy blinked and looked down at his shoes and after a second, nodded with a smile. "Yes! Yellow!"

Relieved to get a solid answer, Santana stood up and offered her hand.

"Would you like to hold hands while we find your father?" She asked. She was wearing gloves, which she knew may either be a fun or awful sensory experience for the child- she really hoped for the former since her hands were cold.

Matteo took her hand after a moment of staring at it before tilting his head up to gaze at her fondly. "The Fahser wears these, too!" He said as he shook her hand in his before pointing at her head, "and those! But…" he squinted, "not those. Not…" he squinted some more before a light switched on in his green eyes as he proudly said, "not dark."

Santana touched her sunglasses. She wore them out of habit more than disguise- her eyes had been very dark when she was human and now, as a vampire, they looked like dark wine or dried blood, easily passable to most humans as "normal enough" not to really notice unless they got close enough and nobody ever did.

"Oh? Really? He wears glasses? To see?" Santana clarified, pointing at her own eyes with her free hand.

Matteo nodded before saying severely, "He um, he no eat his carrots."

Santana withheld a laugh. "Oh no…" she said, "but you eat your carrots, right Matteo?"

"Yes! The Fahser says I need to and I do and I like them!" Matteo puffed his chest out.

"Very good, Matteo! Your father must be so proud of you!" She enthused sweetly.

Matteo, glancing around at all the pretty pictures, stopped in front of one as they passed by hand-in-hand and tugged gently. When Santana paused and looked down from her searching, he pointed to the picture.

Santana looked up to see a painting of a stormy sea, a schooner tossing about with billowing sails in the moody lighting. She glanced back down at Matteo as he tugged on her hand again.

"Yes?"

Matteo furrowed his brow. "San–ta?"

She melted, just a little. "Saint. Can you say 'Saint'?"

Matteo beamed. He knew that word! "Saint!"

Santana giggled, "Yes, Matteo?"

"Pick me up?" He asked, eyes wide.

Santana raised a brow. He sure was getting sidetracked from the mission here, wasn't he? Well, this was much better than him still crying. He was very little, even little for his age, so she could understand him getting distracted and anyway, perhaps if she picked him up they could more easily search for his father or better, his father could more easily see him.

Santana bent at the waist to look him in the eyes. "Can you say 'please pick me up'?"

He reached up toward her with arms outstretched. "Please pick me up?"

"Okay, since you said 'please'." Santana said. Once he was settled in her arms and against her hip, he seemed to understand he had better view of the paintings around them and began to babble about what he saw.

"Big boat!" He exclaimed, pointing at the painting, "Big!"

"Big like father?" Santana asked, determined to keep him on track.

"Mhm! But the Fahser bigger!"

She highly doubted that. Santana began to walk slowly. "Matteo, look at me, please." She said after walking a few feet. When he looked at her, she smiled and asked, "What colour is your father's shirt?"

Matteo, now looking down at her shirt and vest at the mention of shirts, zeroed in and picked up her bronze tinted cross necklace. He beamed as he held it before finally blurting, "The Fahser has this!"

"That's very nice, Matteo," she said patiently, "Now, what colour is your father's shirt?"

He pointed to her black vest. "Black!"

"Okay, very good! Black!" Santana said, "How about we look for your father now?"

At the mention of his father, Matteo looked up from her necklace but did not let go of it. Oh well- if it broke, Santana could always just fix it, she wasn't really worried. She carried him around, eyes sharp for a distressed bespectacled blond man in a black shirt. As they looked, or more accurately, as Santana looked, Matteo continued to look at the paintings and babble on about what he saw in them, Santana listening and even asking him questions about what he saw. His delicate pulse, still fast as was common for his age, sounded significantly calmer now that he was distracted and the sound of it echoed pleasantly in her mind with each and every step, her heart full in knowing that he was calm because of her.

It wasn't the meditative afternoon she had planned, not by a long shot, but even so, she took great joy and comfort in knowing she had been the one who found little Matteo and felt positive, based on the working description he'd given her, that she'd reunite the boy with his father. She could only imagine the amount of fear and stress the man must be feeling, not knowing where Matteo was, and although this wasn't originally in her plans she still found herself feeling close to God if not more so now with the babbling, calm boy in her arms than she had earlier in front of the paintings. As she walked, she said a silent prayer asking God to please help her reunite Matteo with his family and thanking Him for letting her be an instrument in His hands to return the child safely.

Nearly ten minutes into Matteo looking around and babbling, the boy looked around once again from the painting they were standing in front of to find another to steer Santana toward when he excitedly patted her shoulder and exclaimed, "The Fahser! The Fahser!"

Santana whirled around on the spot, relief flooding through her only for her to freeze, her eyes wide as she spotted Father Alexander Anderson, his massive shoulders heaving and hands shaking from what looked like clear exertion of self-control; evidently, he'd been running. He looked flushed with exertion underneath the somewhat fluorescent lights above, his verdant eyes wide and absolutely wild behind his round spectacles as he glanced jerkily around the room, clearly on a mission of some sort, before finally landing his attention on her.

Santana's heart skipped a beat as they locked eyes but for the life of her she couldn't tell if it was from fear or her flustered excitement to see the handsome vampire slayer so unexpectedly- either way, she involuntarily held Matteo just a bit tighter.

Matteo, blissfully ignorant, grinned and pointed at him. "The Fahser! The Fahser! Hi! Hi! Look!" He waved at Father Anderson, "My new friend! Hi! Come look! Hi!"

"Oh Matteo," she breathed as she watched the man who'd sworn to destroy her friends march up to her in smooth, long strides, his eyes unblinking and sharp, "so this is who you were talking about."

Alexander, standing well over 6 ft, easily loomed over Santana who only stood at a measly 5ft. She was a flea to him, and just as annoying. He clenched his jaw tightly as he offered a sweet smile to Matteo, both relieved and feeling mad with worry and confusion. He stiffly bent down at the waist a little to look the boy in the eyes and Santana, unafraid if not very flustered at his proximity, stared at him even as he forced his gaze away to regard the boy in her arms.

"So this is where you ran off to!" He exclaimed softly in that musical Scottish brogue of his, "You scared me half to death, Matteo; what did I tell you about-"

"This is Saint!" Matteo blurted, patting one hand on Santana's shoulder. "She helped me!"

Alexander cut his eyes up to stare into Santana's and then narrowed them into slits. He was so used to Alucard's unnatural pale red eyes that he'd forgotten exactly what hers had looked like. She stared back at him unflinchingly with a small curl of a smile, eyes wide and twinkling and swirling with a mix of emotions like two glasses of intoxicating, dark wine. Out of all the people who could've come along and found the wee tyke, it just had to be her, didn't it? Her and her dark eyes and devilishly sweet manners! What kind of nickname was 'Saint' for a creature like her? Oh, part of him knew, a very quiet part of him, one somewhat easy to ignore so he did just that, knowing it would haunt him later when he tried to sleep.

"Oh did she now?" He asked, his voice strained, eyes still locked on Santana.

"Mhm! We look at pictures and she ask questions about you like what color your hair is!" Matteo said before glancing up at Santana, "Right, Saint?"

Santana broke their staring contest to smile a warm yet closed-lipped smile down at him, still in her arms. She knew Father Anderson would want her to set him down at some point very soon but until then, she was just a teensy bit reluctant to let go- it would simply have to be up to Father Anderson or the boy, whichever asked first.

"That's…. nice," Alexander said slowly, stunned at the genuine look of warmth and tenderness in the crinkle of Santana's eyes and her smile as she looked down at Matteo. She looked at him like… like a moth–He felt a blush crawl up his neck and shook himself after a moment, resolved not to board that train of thought, at least not right now, and took yet another moment to look Matteo over. He looked… well. He looked perfectly fine, in all truth. Not a scratch on him. Not a hair out of place, thank God.

He lifted his hands up toward the boy. "C'mon then," he crooned, "why don't you come with me and we'll join your brothers and sisters, alright? They're all waiting for you with Father Michael. C'mon, away we go-"

Matteo leaned away and into Santana's embrace with a pout before resting his head under her chin. "Can Saint come?" He asked softly.

Alexander froze, his sweet smile cracking just a fraction. He pushed his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Ah- er, n…no, laddie-"

"Why?" Matteo demanded, dark brows furrowed.

Alexander locked eyes with Santana who at least had the decency to look sheepish. "Weeeeell," he drawled, clutching at straws, clutching for a way to word things, transfixed with the way she simply stared back at him, her and those damned dark eyes. "er, you… yous see…"

"Matteo, look at me, please." Santana said gently as she tilted her head to the side.

Matteo stopped scowling and picked his head up off her shoulder to do as she asked. Santana smiled softly as she gazed at his sweet face, his dark, curly hair and green eyes so endearing but as much as it pained her, he was not hers to adore.

"It was so nice to meet you but we found your caretaker and he was so worried about you," Santana said sweetly before nodding at Alexander, "just look- weren't you so worried, Father?"

Matteo swiveled his head around just in time to watch Alexander's massive shoulders drop and his smile soften and wobble a little. "I was… so worried." He murmured, "so, so worried, I was praying I'd find you."

Before Matteo could say anything, Santana shifted him slightly, her chest fluttering a bit too much at the paternal concern in Father Anderson's voice. "Whaddya say pardner?" She crooned in a low, sweet voice, her southern drawl like honey and sunshine in Matteo's and Alexander's minds, "Why don't you let the Father hold you? He missed you so much, will you do that? Or do you want to get down so you can hug him? Hmmm? You missed him too, didn't you? Why don't you show him?"

Finally, Matteo reconsidered and leaned toward him and with a grateful, relieved sigh Alexander picked him up out of Santana's arms and cradled him to his broad chest with ease.

'Stars above,' Santana thought idly as she studied the gentle way he cradled the boy to him and how he softly gazed at Matteo, 'how I wish that was me.' Even as she thought it, she couldn't help but simply melt at seeing Matteo so happy to have found "the Fahser".

Alexander pulled his attention away from the boy, now safe, to stare at the creature who had sheltered him despite every instinct she should have had to do the opposite, at least according to his vampiric lessons within the many classrooms of Iscariot. He was considering his next move when Matteo suddenly leaned forward again and, with an outstretched hand, reached over and picked up Santana's cross necklace.

Santana, feeling the chain tense and desperately not wanting it to break even though she knew she could simply have it fixed, stepped forward until her face was practically in Alexander's chest. "Ah- no, no, Matteo-" she chided in a somewhat squeaky, stuttering voice, "let go-"

"Please come with us?" Matteo entreated.

Santana tilted her head back and Alexander froze at the desperate, flustered look on her face and resolutely ignored the way it made his heart kick in his chest with urgency to do something about it.

"Pleaaaaaaase?" Matteo pressed, knowing that Santana liked that word.

Santana frowned apologetically. She thought about trying to gently pry his hand away but sincerely doubted Alexander would want her to touch Matteo now that he was in his arms so she kept her hands at her sides. "Matteo, the Father-"

Alexander sighed tiredly. "Alright, she can come with us," he relented before adding sternly, "but only to say goodbye to you, alright? We have a bus to catch. Alright? Now let go of the chain."

Pleased, Matteo immediately let go and smiled at Santana with an outstretched hand, his attention fully on her. Santana flicked her eyes up at Alexander and when she didn't see him shake his head or narrow his eyes, she accepted the boy's hand. It was a short walk but all the same, Matteo babbled about the paintings he and 'Saint' saw and all the while, Alexander cooed and nodded, not taking his eyes off Santana or her hand. Sure enough, as they rounded the corner, Santana saw a gaggle of children, approximately five between the ages of 7-10, all waiting with another Priest– obviously Father Michael.

Before Alexander could set him down, Matteo leaned forward once more toward Santana and hugged her.

"Thank you!" He said, "I had fun!"

Santana sighed, eyes closed as she savoured this last tender moment with the sweet child, her heart already aching at the thought of letting him go. "Please stay with the Father better from now on, okay?" She requested gently.

"Okay!" He chirped. Once Alexander set him down he took off running to reunite with the other children, all of them excited and bouncing around as Father Michael tried to calm them down.

Now alone and with Father Michael occupied and thus not a threat, Santana turned to Alexander with wide eyes.

"Aye? What is it?" Alexander asked warily.

"You were watching all of them with a companion and y'all still lost one?" Santana blurted.

Alexander sighed. He knew this question would come but it didn't make hearing it any easier. "Aye, but really, we had it all under control until-"

"Dadgum it, Alexander," Santana hissed softly, "it's a blessing I was there."

He worked his jaw as before snarking, "Will miracles never cease? The friend of my enemy, snatching up my wee boy." His expression turned murderous suddenly and he leaned in before adding in a low, challenging tone, "Tell me, and tell me the truth; did you like his pulse? Did his precious, pure blood sing to you? Was it music to your-"

"Don't," She whispered through clenched teeth, her voice hard and razor sharp like one of his many swords and spears, like her fangs begging for retaliation. She glared at him, eyes flashing unnaturally vibrant red in the overhead lights as her eyes widened in her vehemence. Before he could think to retort or even retreat, she stepped right into his space and stood up on her tiptoes, their faces close as he remained bent at the waist, her hands shaking but remaining at her sides as she continued in a low, dark hiss.

"Don't you dare speak to me that way about a child, Alexander Anderson, don't you ever dare again or I'll rip your lungs right out of your chest and wait till they regrow to do it again, do you hear me?" Her eyes flashed as she dared him to say something snarky, to dismiss her, "Do you? Tell me you do, right now."

Alexander didn't speak- he couldn't speak. He didn't move away, either. He stared and stared until he only saw the truth of the matter which was that he'd deeply offended her; she was genuinely angry with him and it struck him, quite forcefully, that until now, he'd never seen her that way before and he never wanted to either ever again.

"Aye, I do." He breathed.

"Listen well; I forgive you for wanting to destroy Hellsing, for wanting to kill my dear friends, for hating me, but know this: I will never forgive you for what you've said if you ever repeat something of the sort to me again," Santana growled, "now, you owe me a sincere apology if you'd like to remain as civil as we have been."

Her anger washed over him in heatwaves. It was astonishing, the depth and intensity of it, feeling it directed toward himself when he was so used to her flirtatious banter and southern, earnest manners. Comparing the two, he sorely missed the latter.

He took a subtly deep breath. "I'm— I'm sorry, Santana. Really, I am…" he uttered, staring deep into those troublesome eyes of hers, "Forgive me."

Santana squared him with a long, pointed look. "I forgive you, Alexander, once and only once. I know you don't want to hear it, but as much as you think I'm an abomination, you were so dadgum blessed it was me who found the boy and not a disgusting human predator." She said quietly and unapologetically, not stopping even as she saw him flinch slightly, "I advise you to travel with three Fathers next time you come into London. I'd offer my help but clearly, it wouldn't be wanted." Before he could say a word, Santana turned away and walked back into the gallery but not before waving goodbye at the children as Matteo called out to her and as she left, she left with a smile on her face for the children, her other hand hidden away from their view and clenched into a tight fist.

Alexander watched her leave, his head swimming. Her blunt allusion to what could've easily happened if she hadn't found Matteo had him tasting sharp, acrid bile in the back of his throat and it took him a second to reorient himself with reality, his stomach churning and lungs shuddering with a genuine fear he hadn't felt in quite a while. Matteo had been safe with Santana- Lord above, she could've easily snatched him herself if she had wanted to, if she were anything but the type of person she was and oh! He'd insulted her! And what's worse, he couldn't help but think of if the tables were turned, couldn't help but realize that if someone had accused him of something similar, something as vile, that he would've felt the same amount of indignation and rage- he probably would've even stabbed the accuser where they stood yet Santana took it and didn't raise a hand to him- Lord knew she had the right to! He ran a hand through his hair; for the first time since meeting Santana, he felt anxious to see her again, unsure of what to expect from her behaviour now that he'd made such a catastrophic blunder.

There was a part of him that said it would be good if she grew to hate him, that it would make things easier, or that if she grew disinterested or indifferent to him that it would surely be a blessing but that same quiet, usually easily ignorable part of him that liked to fixate on her smile and eyes and kind, sweet demeanour was suddenly not so quiet anymore as he imagined her hatred, her indifference, and found to his surprise that the very thought of it felt like falling off a fifteen storey building and slamming into the concrete. He couldn't… He gazed at the children and shook his head– no time to speculate; he'd simply have to wait. He'd just have to let all thoughts of Santana haunt him when he tried to sleep; it wouldn't be the first time.

The children called out to him and gathered around him eagerly as he approached with a big, cheery smile on his face. With all accounted for, he and Father Michael herded them outside and into an awaiting bus to take them to the airport and on a private jet back to the Vatican. As soon as all the children were on the bus, Father Michael stopped him with an upraised hand.

"Who was that lady who found Matteo, Father Anderson?"

Father Anderson thought about telling the truth but when he opened his mouth, all he said was, "An angel, clearly." When Father Michael opened his mouth to inquire further, Alexander waved a hand at the bus and ignored the warmth in his chest as he said, "C'mon, Father Michael, get on the bus or we'll be late."

During the plane ride back, Matteo, sitting beside his beloved Father Anderson, asked, "Can Saint come visit?"

Alexander barely restrained himself from snorting. "Er, nooo, laddie; I think, uh, I think she's too busy."

Matteo pouted. "Ask her? Please?"

Like that would ever happen; even if Alexander wanted to, he knew his higher ups would shoot it down faster than a freshly spotted ghoul. "Eh… how about next time you go to London, you can see her? Hmmm?"

Matteo, satisfied and all too trusting with his tiny child logic, nodded and returned to his coloring book and Alexander, mentally exhausted, closed his eyes for a much needed power nap. If he dreamed of wine colored eyes and brass crosses, he didn't speak of it when he woke up.

#friend writing #other self ships #hellsing

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