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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

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Humans are Space Orcs, “What Happened.”

Sorry for any issues this one might have, but I am trying to write it between flights and and scrambling to find a plug that will work, so I hope you like it anyway, and I hope it answers some questions you have

Three months leave

IT was going to take an extra three months before the ship would be ready for launch. Even as they spoke, it was docked at the Europa station as they put on the final finishing touches. Until then, it had been Commander Vir’s job to go through files on the personnel he wanted aboard his new crew.

He had suggested some alien additions to make the crew more diverse, which the GA had loved considering that the ship was an amalgamation of both human and alien technology. It had Rundi communications systems, Celzex weaponry, Vrul shields, and a Tesraki warp core. The design otherwise was completely human. But for those reasons, the project was obviously very time consuming, and they were lucky that it was going to be finished in as little a time as it was.

Sunny hadn’t seen Adam very much in the last month or so considering that he had been working hard to find an extra five hundred members for his crew, and speak with the brass about what he had seen on the other side of the wormhole.

Sunny knew that it was important that Adam do his job, but a part of her was annoyed they hadn’t been able to speak properly since getting back.

Instead, she was stuck in base housing on the cost, alone and with nothing to do aside from long walks on the beach. She had never been the the beach beforehand as anin didn’t have any substantial bodies of water like that, at least near her, and there was something about the endless water that unsettled her. Even Krill and Conn were off doing important things. Krill was giving his services to a level one trauma center in New York, and Conn was helping the base MPs conduct polygraph tests, though he had sort of replaced the polygraph.

That left Sunny alone most days to think.

She hadn’t gotten over Adam’s disappearance, and not how he had tricked her, pushing her from the bridge before turning around and preparing himself for death. She felt a bit cheated, and like a decision had been made for her. She wasn’t stupid, logically she knew that is what she would have done if she were in his place, so she couldnt fault him for that, though she still coudln’t help feeling hurt over it.

And these thoughts she was left to stew on, tossing and turning in the quiet of the night while everyone else was out and busy.

Needless to say she didn’t expect the little bell on her front door to ring late one evening, and when she opened the door she certainly didn’t expect to see Adam waiting on her front porch.

HE was smiling, though the skin around his face and neck were already flushed a light pink with embarrassment.

In his arms, he held a large collection of flowers.

“May I come in?”

“Adam!” Her surprise was a bit delayed

He shuffled his feet, “I uh, I got the go ahead to take the day off so I…. thought I would see you.”

He shifted again.

He looked better now than he had on returning from his ordeal, face clean-shaven and in clean clothes that actually fit, though she had to admit his cave-man look hadn’t been so bad.

She stepped aside, and he tentatively followed.

She closed the door and he turned to face her, “I uh…. um … well I…. flower…. Or I mean, I got you, flowers I…… Bought some, but also picked…. some ….. I not that that really matters I just.”He sighed took a deep breath and cleared his throat, “I got you flowers.” he held them out, and she took them in half amusement, picking one from the top and popping it into her mouth before setting them down on the little side table.

“Look, I’m sorry we haven't been able to talk since I got back… and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a little bit of me avoiding having a tough conversation.”

“I like that you are at least being honest with me.” She said quietly., “Do you want to sit down?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Actually, I was going to ask you if you wanted to go on a walk…. I.. I think better when I walk.”

She shrugged and agreed, following him outside to where a thin layer of clouds had veiled the sun which was slowly inching towards the horizon. The clouds muted the colors and the sea was grey in the distance.

Together they walked a little ways along the sand, him shifting nervously, and her walking to the side, relaxed though she didn’t feel like it

The silence stretched on for nearly a mile before Sunny -- growing frustrated -- was forced to break it.

“You tricked me.”

He looked down at his feet, “I did.”

“You tricked me, and because of that I have had some of the worst few months of my life.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I understand you did what you thought you had to, and I get it that if I was in your place, I would have done the same without hesitation, but…. I I feel cheated, and I feel used, and for some reason I can’t stop it.”

He looked away, “I’m not sure what to say.”

“At least say SOMETHING.”

HE turned to face her single green eye wide. Looking down she could sense that his hands were shaking. A part of her felt bad about that, but they needed to have this conversation, and she wasn’t going to let him out of it.

“I… would do it again to save your life, and I won’t apologize for that, but I’m sorry that that’s how you feel.”

“I thought we were a team.”

“And we are.”

She paused, her feet digging hard into the sand, and he drew to a halt beside her, “I need you to understand Adam, when Drev say a team, they mean a battle pair and that means….”

“I know, I know……. I know what it means, and I am agreeing with you.”

“Will, you try, for me.”

“Yes, but sunny, I I don’t know how well it will work out, I…. well I’m broken when it comes to this sort of thing I don’t even know if I can.”

They went silent again and she could see the veins pulsing in the side of his neck. Beads of sweat collected on his brown and face. He looked almost nauseous, like he was scared or something, that too made her feel bad, but she didn’t really know how to help.

On instinct, she reached out a hand, inches from his before pausing, “I…. Can I?”

He paused look down at her hand.

His clenched into a fist.

He was pale whit like snow now.

“I…. I don’t think I can right now but…. Thanks for asking.”

She watched the expression on his face closely, and on his face she saw him proceed through a rapid series of emotions starting with fear, working over to shame, sadness and finally ending on guilt.

He turned away.

She walked up next to him, head tilted, “You don’t have to, Adam, but maybe if you told me why I could better understand. Of course you don’t have to.”

He took a deep shaky breath, “You deserve to know. But just don’t… I don’t know laugh or something. I know logically it wasn’t a big deal but….”

“Adam, I promise I won't laugh, you have my word.”

He nodded his head slowly and sighed, “I can trace it all back to one event I think. It was MY freshman year of high school…. Maybe and I was the awkward, nerdy sci-fi weirdo who believed in UFOs and Aliens.

***

Adam Sat Under a tree outside the school arms wrapped around his knees back tucked against the bowl of a tree which cast the shadow of its leaves down over the ground to wave and rustle in a light breeze.

It was lunch break, and he was watching the other teens standing around in their cliches. The football jocks were playing a game to one side, the cheerleaders were clustered around a bench, and all the rednecks were sitting in the back of their trucks in the parking lot laughing loudly and occasionally turning on their trucks just to rev the engines as loud as possible.

His hair was long-ish, kind of scruffy and hanging down around his ears. The clothes he wore were baggy hand me downs from his older brother Jeremy (a senior) and shoes with holes in them from his older brother Thomas.

He didn’t mention the holes to his mom, dad was in between jobs right now, not that it was a big deal, he would find work, it was just paperwork in the way, but he didn’t want to worry her with something extra that didn’t matter right now.

He looked down at the ground where he had a stack of books waiting in the grass for him, The Martian, War of the Worlds, and an old tatty compendium of start wars stuff with pictures and diagrams.

The T-shirt he was wearing was one he had purchased online, and had a diagram of the star-trek enterprise on it.

He shuffled his feet in the grass waiting for his brothers to show up and feeling sort of lonely as he waited.

Since he was a little younger, he got out a half an hour before they did, and only got to spend thirty minutes of his half hour lunch break with them, otherwise he tried to avoid people as much as possible. It wasn’t that he was bullied per-se, because he wasn’t really, neglected by his peers was probably a better term for it.

They were nice to him in the way you are nice to small children or crazy people, keeping up polite conversation just long enough to leave as soon as possible. He was used to the treatment, and didn’t bother subjecting people to his presence more than he had to. He knew he was weird.

He was sure he would have a harder time if it were not for his older brothers. Jeremy, who was a popular football player, David because he was student body president, and arguably the best looking guy in school, though he never seemed to be dating anyone, and Thomas, who was a bit of a loose cannon and didn’t mind getting in fights to protect his family members when he wasn’t hanging out with the other weird and unpredictable kids.

He was sitting there thinking about his brothers and staring down at the grass, when he saw a pair of shoes appear in his vision. They were white vans, or something similar with bright green laces, and when he looked up he saw a girl standing over him. The school was small enough that he recognized her immediately. Her name was Amanda and she jumped between the Drill team and the Basketball Girls click.

She was smiling, and he watched her as she turned her head back to her group of friends who were giggling and trying not to look like they were looking over in their direction.

Adam sat up a little straighter, “Can I help you.”

She smiled at him, her cheeks slightly pink, “HI…. Adam.”

He frowned, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

She shuffled her feet, and off in the distance, her friends giggled and looked away.

“Can I help you with something?’ He wondered, waiting for the punchline somewhere. Something about the weird UFO kid, or maybe they were going to ask him to help them do something against school rules, so when they got caught they could all blame it on him. Or maybe they were going to ask him to be the designated Sherpa for their bags or something.

He had been tricked into most of those things before, though by now the teachers and the principal knew that he was just socially stupid and not a troublemaker.

“Relax ok, I’ve just come to say sorry?”

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry for treating you like you were weird.” When she smiled it seemed genuine, “You see its…. One of my friends.” More giggling I the background, “She thinks you’re cute, but she didn’t know how to act before.”

He glanced past her to where the group of girls had burst in to excessive giggling.

He frowned again, “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

She crossed her arms, “Serious, Adam.”

“Who is this friend of your.” His eyes narrowed, but past that he was looking towards one of the girls in the group. She was pretty with honey blonde hair and an infectious smile. She played the violin, and he knew for a fact that she was a comic book nerd. He had seen her carrying them around, and she was a petty good artist too. He felt his face flush a bit but tried to fight it back.”

“She smiled, “Avery.”

His eyes shot wide, and he felt his face turn scarlet. The part of his brain that had been skeptical immediately shut off as the human brain is prone to do when they think something good might be about to happen.

“I… really.”

She grinned, “Really.” She reached into her pocket and passed him a note, “She wants you to meet her by the stadium.”

His hands were shaking a bit as he took the note, but he felt his heart hammering in excitement.

Was this his way out of exile?

He had always been extroverted, starved for all the friends he wanted and all the people he wanted to talk to. Avery had the life that he wished he did, a large circle of friends, and fun things to do every weekend.

Maybe with her around, he would finally have that.

All the better if they were dating, but he was getting ahead of himself.

He watched as the group of girls dispersed and Avery moved towards the back of the building over towards the stadium, her beautiful, honey-blond hair blowing in the wind.

He stood awkwardly gathering up his things and shoving them in his bag without zipping the zipper all the way before turning and cutting around the other side of the school. His heart hammered in his chest and his hands were cold and sweaty as he made his way around the other side of the building and towards the stadium.

His heart only began to race faster when he saw her standing alone under the stadium between the cross-bars and in the shade of the metal benches above.

He approached nervously, his hands shaking in excitement.

She turned her head, bright blue eyes catching his.

He stopped in place at the edge of the shadow. But she smiled and waved him in, “Adam over here.”

He followed nervously his feet trailing in the dirt. As she approached she nervously rocked back and fourth on her heels hands in her pockets. He paused a few feet away. She looked up at him through her lashes, and he noted she was wearing little Iron Man earrings.

“Hi.” She said nervously

“Hi.” He replied back

She shuffled her feet, “Look I…. I’m sorry about laughing at you earlier today In class I…. well I think your funny, not, like in a bad way or anything.”

HE knew he was bright red at this moment, probably brighter red than any tomato, “Really?”

“Yeah, so I wanted to say sorry, and…. And maybe make it up to you.”

His heart was in his throat, “Oh, you, you don’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

It went quiet as she stepped forward, and he was frozen in place. She was right in front of him now. She leaned forward a little, and he was frozen in place. Her eyes closed, and then so did his, he waited for the moment, and waited, and waited, but nothing came.

Someone snickered, and he cracked an eye to see Avery’s once pretty face twisted up into a sneer of contempt and malicious amusement.

“April fools.” She jumped at him, and in surprise he tripped backwards over one of the metal bars landing hard. The zipper of his backpack, not all the way done up, erupted outward spilling all his books out onto the dirt.

Laughter.

He turned his head looking around to the cracks in the stadium seats where dozens of eyes stared at him laughing.

Avery stood over him as others began flooding down from their spots laughing.

He crawled back, his head down, “But it’s not even April.” He whispered

“Its not even April.” Someone mimicked from behind, and he ran into soemthing hard looking up to see one of Avery’s friends standing over him. She was state shotput champion last years, and her arms were as big as his head, “What is this.” She reached down and picked his book off the ground.

“Please, give it back.” He said crawling to his knees and reaching up for it.

“The Martian.”

“please.”

She flipped open a few of the pages. He stood up trying to reach for his book but he was blocked by another two of her friends.

The laughter continued, the mocking voices over and over and over again.

He tried to push forward reaching for his books which had been picked up off the ground.

“Gross, Its all sticky!” the friend yelled.

“No it isn’t.” He protested, it was true, he took very good care of his books. But of course no one listened. A chorus of disgust rose up around him. His books were dropped, one clattering to the rocks its pages bending, the other one landing halfway in a puddle of stagnant water.

He cried out and dove forward pulling it out of the water even as mud dripped form the hardback.

He cradled it in his arms, feeling hot tears of anger and humiliation begin to prickle at the corners of his eyes.

Laughter continued.

“Look.”

Fingers pointed.

HE stood fists clenched ready to hurt someone, but when he turned the same girl from before hand his book in either hand and when he moved she pulled.

There was a sharp ripping noise as the spine of the book tore a quarter, and as he cried out she laughed and dropped it into the puddle.

As a paperback, the book didn’t stand a chance.

Mud and water caked his hands as he reached in to pull it out on his hands and knees. Something hit him hard in the back and he pitched forward into the puddle getting the book wet a second time as the kids laughed.

He scrambled sitting up coughing and spluttering feeling the slimy grittiness of the water on his lips.

Someone knelt down next to him. A voice in his ear, “If you tell anyone. I’ll tell the teacher you tried to touch me.”

Tears dripped down his cheeks as he tried wiping mud from his face. The laughter receded and he was left along kneeling on the gravel.

His face grew hot and read as he stared down at the ruined cover of his book. Hot tears dripped onto the mud coating his hands.

His breathing started up in great gasps his heart hammered so fast he thought it was going to burst out of his chest. His head was going to explode either from anger or frustration he didn’t know. Choked sobs broke from his mouth as he knelt over the books ruined in his hands. He couldn’t breathe. He stood vision clouded face hot wet and muggy from the heat.

And then he ran.

He had no idea where he was going or what he was doing.

His paperback held muddy and dripping in one hand he pelted into the woods and didn’t stop running until his foot caught on a branch and he went rolling into the leaves.

He lay there on his stomach heart still hammering breath still coming in ragged gasps. He just couldn’t calm his breathing down.

He didn’t know where he was.

He felt like he was having a heart attack, or dying, or something. He lay there gasping on the forest floor for hours.

It grew dark. The mud dried on the back of his book and against his chest and hands.

It was only when he heard the voices did he finally sit up, mud caked and bleary eyed.

“Adam!”

There were no other sounds for a long moment before the call started up again.

He stumbled over, it was dark so his feet kept coughing on branches and twigs.

“Adam, ADAM! I swear ADAM.”

“Thomas?” He said his voice so raw it was barely above a whisper.

“ADAM!” Footsteps rushed towards him through the trees, and Thomas burst from the foliage his scruffy blind hair run wild, his jeans covered in dirt, “Adam there you are where have you-“

He didn’t have time to say much else as he was hugged tight around the middle.

“Adam I…. what’s wrong. What happened! Who did this to you!”

Thomas looked ready to rip someone apart, but Adam didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t say anything about the event for the next two years.

***

Sunny stared wide eyed as Adam turned away again.

“Look, I know its stupid, it happens to plenty of kids and they don’t take it the way I did, but. I mean, with the panic attack on top of it, and then a few years later the same thing happened on my first date, so now I just… I can’t…”

Sunny was quiet for a moment while he looked away.

“Who the FUCK do they think they are.” She snarled.

He looked up in surprise, “I what.”

She marched around in a circle, “What the hell kind of person does that to someone. That’s just sick and wrong. That is just… horrible.” She pulled out her spear, “I swear If i ever meet someone like that if i ever meet THEM, I am going to-”

He caught her arm, “Sunny stop, it was a long time ago.”

“It doesnt matter!”

A small smile cut across his face, “IT doesn't matter sunny, you want to know why.”

“Why.”

“Because I saw their pictures.” he grinned, “Avery got really fat and her friend got hit by a car, not fatally but I consider it Karma doing me a solid.” He paused, “It’ll be ok…. I just need some time. Think you can do that for me?”

She paused and nodded her head, “Yes, I think I can.”

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myownworldstayout · 5 years

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New Friends Ch. 12

Ch.1 / Ch.11 / Ch.13

(Are you ready for more fluff?? you’re gonna get more fluff.) (also, It’s long so warning lol)

“Marinette, I love these dresses!” Aurore sang, twirling around in a sleeveless purple dress, which stopped short just above her knees.

“The casual outfits are quite nice as well.” Kagami complimented, studying her black, ripped jeans and rose red top, matching her black boots.

Marinette blushed slightly at the praise, though it was hardly noticeable since she was still fiddling with another outfit on one of the manikins.

“Thank you so much! I figured you guys would like those.”

“I still can’t believe you made these.” Wayhem commented, picking at the collar of his bright green, short sleeved shirt.

“Do the jeans fit okay?” She asked, turning to get a good look at the three.

Wayhem grinned. “They’re perfect.”

Marinette smiled brightly, nodding with satisfaction as she focused on the manikin again.

“It’s a shame Felix couldn’t come to your house with us. He’s missing out on some great fashion.” Aurore giggled, sitting down on the chaise and smoothing out her dress.

“Actually, I already gave him an outfit. He’s gonna meet us at the concert.”

Aurore sat up. “Really?”

“Yep!”

During lunch period that morning, Luka invited them to go to Kitty Section’s concert. They were holding it in the square this time, and the crowd was hopefully going to be big. Aurore and Wayhem were more than happy to go, since they always loved Kitty Section’s concerts, and Kagami promised to work something out in her schedule. Felix was reluctant at first- concerts were always so loud and pushy -but when Marinette excitedly agreed to go, he gave in.

The group became so hyped for the event that they decided to dress up for it as well. That was when Marinette remembered she had some outfits at home that she’d been working on. So Aurore, Kagami, and Wayhem came to the Bakery to try them on while Luka prepared for the concert.

“The real question is how you convinced Felix to come to the concert in the first place.” Kagami said, shifting comfortably on the chase next to Aurore.

“What do you mean?” Marinette asked obliviously, pulling one of the pins from between her teeth and sticking it into a skirt.

“Felix hates concerts.” Kagami stated bluntly.

“I can’t imagine Felix liking anything loud or crowded to be honest.” Wayhem joked, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Pretty much. His exact words were, ‘why listen to music at a loud, people-infested park when I could listen to the same music alone in my quiet bedroom?’” Kagami smile.

Aurore and Wayhem laughed at that, but Marinette furrowed her eyebrows.

“Why do you think I convinced him though? Maybe he decided to just try it out on his own.”

Wayhem scoffed and lightheartedly replied, “You kidding? He was so going to stay home until you said you were going.”

“He did suspiciously agree right after you did. Even though he said no the first time around.” Aurore joined in, a coy smile spreading across her lips.

Marinette pursed her lips, turning back to her project to hide her embarrassment. Felix didn’t agree just to be with her, right?

The image of him walking her to her house around the first time they met flashed through mind.

She shook her head.

He just wanted to go to the concert since everyone else was going. They were all friends, after all. It would be silly to stay home instead of hanging out with all of your friends.

Yes, it had nothing to do with her, and this certainly wasn’t going to be another Adrien situation.

Marinette stilled.

Adrien.

“Marinette, are you alright?” Aurore asked, noticing her pause.

She drew in a breath, steeling herself. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I was just thinking about..”

“About Adrien?” Wayhem finished, sitting down on the floor next to Marinette’s rolling chair, across from the girls.

Marinette nodded in confirmation, keeping her eyes on the skirt.

The group quietly waited, their gaze soft, understanding. Marinette would speak if she wanted to do so.

“They haven’t noticed my unofficial absence for weeks.” she finally began, more of thinking aloud. “They didn’t care that I haven’t spoken a word to anyone, that they haven’t talked to me for weeks. It wasn’t until I actively ignored Adrien that they got upset.”

Marinette sighed, massaging her temples. “It’s like they don’t even care about me as a person. It’s all about their egos or hurt feelings or something just- just all about them.”

The group nodded along, letting her work through her thoughts. Though Marinette appreciated it, it also sort of ached. Because she had never had something like this before. Not with Alya, or Adrien, or anyone else she knew for years in that forsaken classroom. It was always “Marinette, you’re overreacting”, “Marinette you’re being ridiculous”. It could never be, “you have a right to be angry”, or “your feelings are valid whether they completely make sense or not”.

Come to think of it, even despite Lila’s influence, they’d had trouble before. Mostly when Marinette decided to have any sort of feelings besides pure happiness. Of course, Alya and the others weren’t entirely to blame. Adrien was normally the one to scold her on that front.

She looked back up at the others. They sat there patiently, waiting for her to either finish her concerns or change the subject. It was her choice.

She reveled in that thought. Her choice. It felt as if this entire school year had flown by without giving her a single glance. She’d been forced into more things than she liked to admit.

Being ladybug, for example. She loved Tikki with all her heart, but Marinette still found herself a tad bitter about how she got the miraculous. Would she have accepted if Master Fu asked her straight up? Probably not, but it still would’ve been nice to get a say in the matter.

The point is, choices seemed to be new for her. She was sad that it turned out this way, but if it meant she could make choices, that she was finally free in a sense..

“There, done.” Marinette then smiled, leaning back to check her work.

Aurore and Wayhem gasped.

“Oh, Marinette, it’s beautiful!”

~~~~~~

Felix grumbled to himself as he got ready for the concert.

Why did her agree to go to this? Concerts were loud and crowded and everything he despised, really. Why couldn’t he just stay home and watch the concert live at the very least? That’d be much more preferable.

He pictured Marinette’s smiling face, her eyes shining with excitement and anticipation.

“You’re coming too, right Felix?” She had asked.

Seeing that expectant and hopeful look in her eyes… how could he say no?

He remembered her quietly squealing a “yes!” and pumping her fist in the air when he said he would go.

The group was surprised, though none argued. Especially when Marinette started rambling about “New outfits” and “Fitting sessions after school”.

A frown tugged at the corner of Felix’s lips.

They were all at her house now, getting ready for the concert. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to be there. Unfortunately, he needed to come home first to inform his mother about the new schedule and do a few things.

As expected, she was more than eager to let him go to the concert.

“When are you going to invite them over?” she asked for what felt like the fifth time that week.

“When I feel the time is right.” Felix said, repeating the same answer he always gave.

His mother put on a pout, but only huffed and left the room to start supper.

Felix smiled towards his mother’s antics as he straightened his new tie.

Marinette had shown them lots of sketches for clothing designs, but her actually making the clothes was a completely different story.

And she’d done and amazing job. The clothes she made for them not only fit their personalities well, but also seemed like they could be bought from a store.

Felix noticed a few crooked stitches and some loose buttons, usual mistakes that are perfected over time. Considering she was only fifteen, the handiwork was extremely impressive in his opinion.

The outfit wasn’t all that different from his usual one. He still had his black dress pants and dark grey vest. However, his familiar, lighter grey of a button up, long sleeve shirt was replaced by a black one with the sleeves stitched up to his elbows in a quarter sleeve style. Instead of his black tie, Marinette gave him a striped green and black tie to use. How she got the measurements was beyond him, because the clothes fit perfectly.

“Have fun at the concert sweetie! If you need me or your father to pick you up, just give us a call.” His mother cooed as he opened the front door.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Felix said with a small smile, waving and walking out the door.

The walk was longer than what he was used to, but he left earlier than necessary so he took his time. Nevertheless, he still got there about twenty minutes before the concert started. A few people were lingering in the square, either curious about the commotion or waiting for the concert to begin. In the center of the square, right in front of the glass pyramid, Felix spotted Kitty Section preparing themselves for the performance. Luka was tuning his guitar with Juleka, Rose was checking the sound system, and Ivan was testing his drums.

Felix noted that the others were wearing their normal outfits while Luka was obviously wearing a “Mari original” as they called it. He was wearing a dark-ish blue, checkered button up shirt with black jeans. His shirt was unbuttoned to reveal a navy blue t-shirt underneath. In the middle of the navy blue T-shirt was a white jagged stone, similar to the black one on his white t-shirt he normally wore.

Luka glanced up, smiling when he noticed Felix.

“Hey! I see you’re wearing your new outfit, too. Mari did a good job, as always.” he commented, setting his guitar to the side and standing up.

Felix nodded with a smile, looking over his clothes once more. He ignored the side glances he received from his classmates. He figured they wouldn’t be pleased of his presence, but he was here for Marinette, not them.

Speaking of which, “Where are the others?”

“They’ll be coming soon, don’t worry. Marinette wanted to make last minute tweaks on the other’s outfits.” Luka explained, waving off the question. “I didn’t expect you to come. Concerts don’t seem to be your thing.”

“They’re not. I only came because-” Felix cut himself short. Telling Luka his real reason for coming probably wasn’t the best idea.

Unfortunately for Felix, Luka was good at filling in the blanks.

“Because Marinette wanted you to, right?” he finished with a knowing smile.

Felix gave him a glare in response, not denying or confirming anything.

Thankfully, people were already starting to pile into the square. Therefore, Felix and Luka were quickly surrounded by chattering fans, distracting them from the conversation.

“I have to go up on stage. Good luck finding Mari in this mess.” Luka chuckled, before disappearing into the crowd as well.

Felix hummed in displeasure, turning on his heel and heading for the back of the crowd. Maybe it would be better to find them if he weren’t so smothered.

“Felix, there you are!”

He stopped, looking in the direction of the familiar voice he’d come to know quite well.

What he saw brought his thoughts to a screeching halt.

It was definitely Marinette- you could tell from her signature ponytails and unmistakably bright smile -but her clothes almost made her seem like a different person entirely.

She wore a pitch black blouse which was tucked into a bright red skirt covered in black polka dots that hung just above her knees. Her black heels, which were red on the bottom, drew attention to her toned legs. Now that Felix thought about it, Marinette’s arms were pretty toned as well. She was fit in general, to be honest.

A light blush dusted Felix’s cheeks as he pushed the thought out of his mind.

“What do you think?” Marinette beamed, twirling to give him a better look.

Felix swallowed, briefly at a loss for words. Could you blame him, though?

“Did you make that?” he managed to ask.

“Yeah! It’s not too bad is it?” Marinette said shyly.

Felix shook his head almost vigorously. “No, It- you look-” he paused, taking a second to compose himself. “You look.. Stunning.”

Now Marinette blushed, a delightful pink that somehow complemented the outfit.

He pulled a soft smirk, but then it faded as he looked her up and down again and squinted.

Marinette frowned. “What is it?”

“Do you mind if I try something?”

“Try something?” Marinette repeated, blinking in surprise.

“Yes, with your hair if that’s alright?” He said, reaching up and gently touching one of her pigtails in thought.

“O-Oh, uh- Sure, I g-guess.” Marinette stuttered, her blush deepening.

Without another word, Felix moved around behind her, carefully starting to pull the ribbons out. It might have been his imagination, but Felix thought he felt her shiver when he started combing his fingers through her hair to straighten it out.

“Alright, I’m done.” He stated after a few minutes, stepping around to her side again.

Marinette brought her hands up to her hair, lightly feeling around to figure out what he did.

“Thank you.”

Felix shrugged. “My uncle is a fashion designer after all.”

Marinette smiled, opening her mouth to respond when someone else called out to Felix.

“Felix! We finally found you! Oh, and you have Marinette that’s even better!” Aurore shouted over the crowds, moving towards them with Wayhem and Kagami in tow.

“Wow, I love your hair.” Wayhem complimented when they caught up to the two.

“Felix did it.” Marinette grinned, absently touching her hair that had fallen around her shoulders.

“Felix did?” Kagami raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk playing at her lips.

The blonde didn’t respond, keeping an indifferent expression. That might have been more condemning than if he had said anything at all.

“Well, it totally makes the look.” Aurore smiled, pulling a pocket mirror out of her purse and handing it to Marinette.

The hair-do looked much nicer than Marinette expected. Apparently, Felix took out her two pigtails, using the two ribbons to tie her hair into a half up half down style. This caused it to look like she was wearing a big red bow instead of her ordinary ribbons. Having her hair pulled back certainly topped off the outfit as Aurore had said. The red bow brought out the skirt and the hair that fell around her shoulders, along with her bangs, shaped her face nicely.

“Wow..” Marinette muttered, brushing her bangs somewhat to the side.

“Mhmm~” Aurore hummed with a smile, taking back the pocket mirror.

“We should get to the front, or somewhere near there. The concert is going to be starting soon.” Felix spoke up.

“Yeah, but there’s so many people..” Kagami said with a frown, standing up on her tiptoes to look over the growing crowd.

“Oh, let’s hold hands so we don’t lose each other!” Wayhem suggested, grabbing Aurore and Kagami’s hands.

Felix winced, though no one noticed.

Aurore grinned, turning and grabbing Marinette’s hand.

Marinette turned to Felix, holding up her hand.

“So we can stay together.” She smiled.

Felix hesitated. He didn’t like touch. Never enjoyed physical contact with anyone, really. Even his mother, who he loved dearly, was someone he could barely stay around for long due to all the hugs she smothers him with.

There wasn’t a specific reason he hated being touched, he just did. Felix assumed it was mostly from his father, but he couldn’t tell for sure.

That was why he was surprised when he took Marinette’s hand. Because he.. He actually didn’t mind her touch. It wasn’t all that bad. Her hand was warm and her grip gentle, loose enough that he could let go if he wanted, but tight enough that they shouldn’t be separated.

Her grip then tightened suddenly to keep from losing him when they got deeper into the crowd.

For reasons unbeknownst to him, Felix squeezed her hand back.

He caught a glimpse of Marinette glancing back at him in surprise, before turning her attention back to the crowds.

“Alright, Paris, are you ready!” Luka called over the microphone.

The group stopped. The crowds cheered.

Marinette didn’t let go of Felix’s hand. Whether she was distracted by Luka or just didn’t think about it, Felix found that he was okay with it.

The music began, causing Felix to look at the stage as well. Half way through, Marinette and the others started dancing. He didn’t join in, but his hand swung around with Marinette’s occasionally. That was when he noticed she was still holding Aurore’s hand as well. In fact, they were all still holding hands. To stay together.

That’s right. To stay together, nothing more. Felix reminded himself, even if he wasn’t sure why he needed to remember that.

The concert lasted for about an hour, along with a few added encores.

“And now,” Luka began, wrapping up the show. “I’d like to make a special shoutout to the girl who not only made my outfit for tonight, but also designed Kitty Section’s costumes and album covers from the beginning. Mlle. Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

Felix saw Marinette’s eyes widen as the spotlight landed on her.

Luka grinned, walking to the edge of the stage and holding out his hand.

Marinette, still in shock, slipped her hand out of Aurore and Felix’s grasp and took Luka’s hand.

He ignored the sudden coldness he felt from Marinette’s absence as the girl was pulled up on stage.

“This is also a ‘Mari Original’.” Luka announced eagerly, gesturing to Marinette’s outfit.

The ravenette smiled sheepishly, fiddling with her skirt a bit to contain her nerves.

The crowd gave a hearty round of applause. Her friends clapped the loudest, of course, and Wayhem whistled.

“That’s all I’ve got folks. Thank you and goodnight!”

~~~~~~~

Marinette’s heart pounded against her chest even half an hour later. Luka did love his surprises, she just wished they didn’t involve so many people.

“Where does this go?” Wayhem asked, holding up a box of sound equipment.

“Over there is fine.” Luka answered, pointing to a few other boxes nearby.

Wayhem nodded, hobbling off in that direction. Marinette giggled at the odd posture.

It was nice though, she thought, being appreciated. Getting the credit she deserved for her work. What did she do to deserve these wonderful people?

“I~ think that’s everything?” Aurore more of asked, looking around the now empty stage.

“Yes, I believe so.” Felix agreed, crossing his arms and searching for any lost or forgotten items as well.

Marinette smiled towards the blonde. He’d been full of surprises that evening. Since the first week she met him, actually. She was also happy to say that the outfit she created looked good on him.

“Thanks for helping out guys.” Luka said appreciatively, setting the last few boxes onto their stacked pile.

Juleka, Rose, and Ivan mumbled their “thanks” as well- Rose being as cheerful as ever. Marinette and Felix might rival Chloe in low popularity at school at the moment, but they still helped out.

“You don’t have to thank us.” Kagami insisted. Her phone then buzzed in her pocket, and she sighed when she saw the message.

“My driver’s going to be here in a few minutes. Anyone need a ride home?”

Luka scratched the back of his head. “Actually.. Can you take Juleka and I home? It’d be hard to take all of the boxes home and mom doesn’t have a car..”

Kagami smiled. “Of course, it’s not a problem.”

The exchange seemed to remind Felix of something, and he turned to her.

“What about you?” He asked, glancing at her as he took out his phone and pressed on his mother’s contact icon.

“Sorry?” Marinette blinked, looking at Felix and standing up on the stage.

“Do you need a ride home?” he elaborated, waving his phone slightly.

“Oh no! I’m alright, thank you-”

Marinette then paused, and looked to the streets. It was getting a bit dark.

“On second thought, that would be nice.” she smiled.

Felix returned the smile, before walking away to call his parents.

Marinette yelped as she stumbled down the steps of the stage, right into a firm pair of arms.

“Are you alright?” Felix asked, concern lacing his tone.

“Ah, y-yes. I’m so sorry..” she sighed, struggling in his arms to stand back up.

Felix lifted her to her feet. “It’s fine. As long as you’re alright.”

Marinette blushed, suddenly noticing how close they were and Felix’s lingering arms around her waist. She lightly touched her right cheek, which she somehow managed to scratch on the way down.

“Honestly, I don’t know what possessed you to where heels. You can barely walk around in your usually flats.” he then added, frowning at the injury.

Marinette chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. Though his tone was sarcastic, she knew he meant it as more of a joke than anything. It was hard to read Felix when they first met, but after a few weeks of hanging out with the group so much, she managed to figure him out a little.

For one, he wasn’t as stone cold as he appeared to be. Felix might be brutally honest and strongly opinionated, but he did care. She’d seen it over the past few weeks. He just had a hard time expressing his emotions.

Not to mention that ever since he arrived at school, Lila hasn’t bothered Marinette as much- if at all. She couldn’t begin to explain how thankful she was for that.

“The car’s here. Are you ready to go?” The blonde in question interrupted her thoughts, gesturing to a grey car that had just rolled onto the street.

Marinette nodded, saying a quick goodbye to the others and following Felix to the vehicle.

Felix opened the back door for her, which she found sweet. When she got into the car, though, Marinette was a tad surprised to see Felix slide into the seat next to her and close the door.

She looked to the floor to calm herself. Taking deep breaths, smoothing out her skirt, fixing her hair. The car pulled onto the street and started towards the bakery.

“T-thanks for the r-ride.” she finally said, wincing at the stutter.

Why was she nervous? It was just Felix.

Just Felix. Marinette mentally repeated.

“It’s no trouble.” Felix assured, brushing off the comment.

“I didn’t know you had a chauffeur.” She commented thoughtfully.

Felix glanced at her from the window. “Well, I would certainly hope so. My family does own and run several banks around the country.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

“You didn’t know?” Felix raised his eyebrows, straightening in his seat.

Marinette shook her head dumbly. Then again, how did she not know Felix’s family ran the banks? She’s known him for weeks hasn’t she?

The boy stared at her for a moment, then simply hummed and turned back to the window.

Silence filled the car. Marinette found it frustrating. Usually, she could talk about anything or everything with Felix. Now, she was at a loss for words. Why was that?

When the car stopped in front of her house, Marinette shuffled out of the vehicle, Felix following behind her.

“Thanks again for the ride home.” she said, throwing him an appreciative smile.

“Any time.” Felix replied softly.

A frown suddenly flickered across his face and he lightly touched the side of his lips. “You’re lipstick’s a little messed up.”

Marinette blushed, bringing her hand up to fix the error.

He was looking at my lips?

The thought nearly gave Marinette a heart attack, and she shoved it to the back of her mind. That didn’t mean anything. Felix was just observant like that.

“No, wait- you missed- here let me do it.”

Before Marinette could respond, Felix was in front of her again. He tilted her chin upwards, gently grazing his thumb across her lips.

Marinette’s heart skipped a beat at the gesture and her eyes flicked to his.

His eyebrows were knitted together as he focused on fixing her makeup. It was all too obvious that he wasn’t trying anything.

“It’s such a lovely shade of red..” he murmured absently, stroking her lips one last time for perfection.

Oh, if Marinette thought she couldn’t blush any deeper..

The poor girl was about to blabber out some sort of reply when a car horn blared next to them, signaling for Felix to hurry up. The two jumped apart, glancing at the impatient chauffeur.

“G-Goodnight!” Marinette nearly squeaked, holding back another cringe of embarrassment.

Felix gave a small smile, though, not seeming to mind. “Yes, goodnight.”

With that, he got back in the car and left.

Marinette went back inside as well, hand on her lips and thoughts racing about the night she just had and the new feelings she might have just experienced.

Tag list: @unabashedbookworm @bluerosette23 @minightrose@kuroko26@im-here-for-the-content @angstyrastuff @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanboy7794@choaticneturcl @bigcheeseyboi @burntnugget-tae @ayuchan07@honorisfortheweak @knightrose15 @mjisntme@rhub4rb @simplythebestbug@wilhelmares@zebrabaker@dargeon-lissa @kristycocopop @alumneia @kaydenth3gayden @thornangelic727 @flirtshobi @whatamessofwords

#Felinette #Felix Culpa #New Friends AU

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stevenuniversetanzanite · 4 years

Text

Gone and Left Your World (Venable x reader (Part 3))

Warnings: N/A

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four

Everyone was assembled in the music room as they always were at 6:45 every night, there was talk about a newcomer. It had been 18 months since the booms had dropped. How was someone supposed to survive that long out there in the destroyed remains of civilisation? A man you didn’t recognize walked in, he had long platinum blonde hair and was dressed in an evening suit.

The man approached Venable before introducing himself to the occupants of outpost 3. His name was Michael Langdon and he was there to evaluate candidates to take to The Sanctuary. The other American compounds in New York, West Virginia and Texas have been overrun and destroyed. Those not selected will be given suicide vials in case of further incursion. You were allowed to skip the interview process and be given a veil immediately, but you were automatically disqualified for selection. To put it simply, a death wish (given the name of the vials it made sense). All of the occupants had survived long enough and dealt with enough shit to do a simple interview.

Gallant was the first to volunteer to do the interview. Evie explained that Gallant's volunteering to Langdon's "cooperation" technique is a survival trait. One by one Michael Langdon interviewed the residents.

Langdon, you knew that last name from somewhere, you thought as you sat eating your nutrition cube. The man gave you the willies. The way he looked at people sent shivers down your spine. It was as though he could see through your soul.

The spirits in the school turned underground bunker grew louder. The ones that had remained mainly dormant up until now. All male and majority under the age of 25. There were two older ones, teachers you presumed.

A gut feeling told you to pipe down your abilities in the sake of survival. The spirits enjoyed making it difficult to concentrate on anything other than them. You could give someone five minutes before you had to leave due to the pounding headache that was forming due to the traffic filling your ears.

Langdon sat at Venables desk, the room only light by a few candles by his person. His laptop to which he was previously on prior to being joined by the leader of the outpost had fallen asleep. The redhead wondered how he powered the device as there was no power after the bombs. All had been destroyed beyond repair or at least for the unskilled upper and middle turned lower class of outpost 3.

Venable stood in the centre of the room, her cane’s topper gripped tightly in her dominate hand, the other laid on top to keep her firmly standing upright as well as make her more intimating to the man. He saw through her persuade. He was wiser for his short time alive, his power giving him an upper hand.

The man remained sitting as he began to talk to the older woman. “You have a gift for making the ugly look presentable.” Venable chuckled; flattery rarely got to her. Something about him made her want to believe him. She only felt that with one other. She shook her head, remembering you were waiting for her back in the library.

“Order on the outside does wonders to keep the chaos safely on the inside.”

“I'm onto you.” This made the woman raise her brow. What was he on about? “You've created your own rules in here. I understand why. I’m sure it was impossible to resist the temptation of making this place over in your image, especially when you thought that no one who knew any better would ever be around to notice.” She stiffened.

“I'm not sure what you're talking about.”

“Complete abstinence? Punishable by summary execution?”

“I received my orders in an encrypted communiquã from The Co-op before all communication lines went down.”

“Do you have it?”

“No, I do not. The orders were to destroy it after I read it.”

“Odd. I was instrumental in drafting all of the directives in regards to the running of the outposts.”

“And nothing would be more humiliating to a man such as yourself than to learn that a woman had more information than he did. A man such as myself? You and the others. Masters of the universe, titans of industry swinging your dicks around so much that you managed to blow the whole world to hell.”

“You're a fighter. I like that about you.”

“I'm just doing my best with the mess men made of things.”

“Maybe that's what was needed around here, hmm? Some improvisation. I'm gonna give you some important information instead. You're the leader in here. You need to understand what's at stake, what's really going on out there.” This caught the red head’s interest.

He told her a story about a woman and children affected by the toxic air. When into detail about the pain they were in and how they were some of the unlucky ones who were far enough from the blast radius to survive the fireball but not the radiation. She begged him to kill her and her child (one, the young one in her arms was already gone).

“Did you?”

“No.” Venable looked at the man, almost disgusted by the man and the lack of humanity he had. “So, who deserves a shot at salvation? Let's start with Coco Saint Pierre Vanderbilt.”

“The Vanderbilt girl is a vacuous abomination of inbreeding. She'd be my last choice to propagate the human race. The hairdresser is a cowardly homosexual. His grandmother is a festering pustule who just will not die. And the talk show host well, actually, I don't know that much about that one.” She listed off some of the elite members of the outpost. None of them were worth saving. Okay, one was.

“At this rate, it sounds like you and I will have The Sanctuary all to ourselves.” He exhaled deeply. Michael stood up, circling his desk to get closer to the woman. He stopped in front of the desk, opting to lean against it before continuing. “There’s one person, sprightly young-ish woman who could be a perfect fit.”

“Who?”

“That shy purple, Y/N, I believe. Tell me about her.”

“She’s tolerable. Doesn’t cause much trouble. I don’t know much about her.”

“I’ve heard from the others that you’re the person who knows her the best.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You’ve read her file, that would give you an advantage plus from what they said, she keeps a distance from everyone but has been caught on occasion talking to you.”

“I have been integrating her on why she isn’t socialising with the others. Her timidness caused me to believe she is up to something.”

“Is that really why you’ve been integrating her?”

“Yes,” Venable said sternly.

The man shrugged making the woman believe she got away with it. “I’m aware of the little mishap that happened with the tickets.”

“I can assure you I had no control over Vanderbilt and who she brought along with her. Her choices were- well I detest the lot of them.”

“They’re not who I’m referring to Ms Venable.” Again confusion. Then she remembered, you weren’t meant to be here either. He hadn’t moved on from you being the topic. “They were in part to thank for the person being here. If Coco’s father didn’t accidentally by a fifth ticket, your friend wouldn’t be here. Yes, I know your past relationship. Her being your personal assistant.” He took this as a good moment to clear his throat, implying more from the final two words. “I don’t blame you keeping her around, she’s quite the catch.”

Venable wanted to growl at the man. Snarl at him to keep away from her girl.

“Unfortunately, the girl seems unsure of herself. As if something is holding her in the past. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Those four years,” she muttered absentmindedly. Maybe you weren’t hiding your past from her but actually clueless as to what happened? It felt like a leap, but she had faith, she wanted to believe. You wouldn’t hold something back from her.

“What four years?” He asked. Shit, he heard her.

“You read the file; she was an alcoholic for years. Her mind was a blank slate when she showed up here.” It was her only reasoning for what happened.

“You don’t trust her.” Bring back something Venable briefly mentioned earlier.

“What is there to trust? She has a history of alcoholism which she hid from us, what else is she hiding?”

He leaned towards the woman, “That’s exactly what I want to know.” He walked over to her. They were face to face. “Come. There's no need for us to be adversaries, Ms Venable.” She knew she shouldn’t trust the man. “Take off your dress.”

“I will not.”

Michael chuckled, “Part of your cooperation includes a physical examination.”

“You can read my file.” It wouldn’t show him what he needed to see. Her shame. The part that humiliated her, making her feel not feel good enough for anyone. The part of her you had managed to convince her to unveil to you. She still held her shame on her back even after all those nights of passionate love that you tried to convince her that it didn’t make her any less of a woman in your eyes. She didn’t see it your way. It only got worse when you left. The only person she loved, the only one to see that part of her. It probably drew you away.

The area didn’t hurt to the touch, but it brought her great pain. Her breath shook as she hesitantly allowed the man to gaze upon her back. To keep her put together, she imagined it was you running your hand down the curvature of her spine. Still, with that in mind, she couldn’t help up shutter at the touch. It was her only chance to get to the sanctuary. She had to get there with you.

“Is this part of my test?” She breathed out shakily.

“Isn't everything?”

So, then do I pass?

“No.”

Her heart sunk. She was denied her one chance of safety. A knock at the door cut off her time to rationalise what just occurred. Ms Mead needed her.

Gallant was caught copulating, ratted out by his Grandmother. The old bat didn't get a look at the guy's face because he was dressed head to toe in black latex. Venable only had one idea who the seducer was, it couldn’t be any clearer. Everything went wrong the moment Langdon showed his face in the outpost. The air felt colder; you’d been on edge, eyeing him every time he was in range; the snakes’incident and now the breaking of the sex rule. She wasn’t projecting her problems onto him. He was to blame.

Interrogating Gallant went nowhere. She was stressed and needed some time to wind down. You weren’t in the library like she suspected instead, she met you in your bedroom. You were huddled up on your head, buried under a ton of blankets. A book laid abandoned above where your head poked out. You hadn’t noticed her presence until your name was called for the third time. Her voice was quiet yet filled with worry. Her gentle hand brushed some hair out of your face.

“Honey.” You hummed in acknowledgement. When had she sat down on your bed? “Are you feeling okay?” Stupid question. You hummed again. “Sweetie, are you listening?” She tilted your head, forcing you to look at her. Your eyes were blank, staring off into the distance as if you could see through time itself.

You only got one word out, “Loud.” But it was dead silent. There was no noise from noisy occupants. Your breathing was the only noise.

“Baby, there’s nothing-”

You winced. “Shush.” Her grip loosened and you turned your head back into its original position.

Venable was at a loss for what to do. She picked up your book, deciding to move it out of the way. She put it on your vanity. She found a bookmark for it so you could continue from where you left off. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the title, The path to the spirit realm. Venable believed all your ‘abilities’ were bullshit, how could someone speak to the dead? In an attempt not to hurt you she never shattered your belief, she cared for you to deeply to do so. She couldn’t explain how you knew so much without witnessing events. You knew what happened about Stu (in detail), had questioned her about her reasoning behind it. She denied it and you allowed that to be the final answer.

She would talk to you when you came back to your senses about her interview. You hadn’t seen the man yet, probably for the best given your current state. She didn’t know how to break it to you that she didn’t make the cut, or his strange fascination with you during her interview. She needed to warn you to be careful.

You drifted off to sleep, your head resting on her lap as she ran her hand through your hair. You fidgeted in your sleep. She wished to wake you but feared that doing so would only bring you back into the state you were before.

Sadly, she had to leave you not to draw further suspicion as to why she was in your room.

~~~

“I can’t do what you want me to do. That’s impossible,” You said to the blonde resting on the couch of the shack you both found yourselves in. It wasn’t yours and it couldn’t be hers. She seemed to proper to have a shack as a getaway location.

“Please try,” the older woman begged.

“Even if it was possible, how the hell am I meant to do it. I’m only a beginner. My powers are weak. I can’t teleport or read minds or control things. I hear the dead- that’s it.”

“That’s why you’re best for this. You already know something about it. It’s your speciality.”

“You can’t bring back people once they're erased. They don’t exist anymore. No deal with the devil is going to bring them back.” You argued. “I promised I’d look into it, and I have. With the little resources I have, nothing.”

“We can get you more resources-”

“-Cordelia, we’re in a shack in a swamp, hiding from the devil spawn. The school is no longer safe- there was nothing there any way I checked- If I make it to obvious what I’m looking for we risk being found.” Cordelia moved to face you back she stopped letting out a groan of pain. You ease her back into her original position on the couch. “Your weak Delia, you need to preserve your strength. Myrtle will be back soon with an update about on the plan. For now, rest.”

“You’re too kind to me.”

“What are friends for?”

She grimaced.

“You’re not weak.”

“Cor-”

“I wouldn’t lie to you. No good has come from me lying to my students.”

“You wouldn’t be the first person to tell me I’m better than what I am.”

Cordelia went to say something when the two of you felt eyes peering into you. You turned to see Coco looking at you. She asked if she was interrupting. Cordelia shook her head and said no. Apparently, Mallory wanted you for something. You nodded saying you would be there in a minute. Mallory, now she was a witch who could do what Cordelia wanted.

“We all have our parts to play Y/N. She has hers, you have yours.”

There was no reasoning with this woman.

~~~

You jolted up; a wave of cold sweat washed over you. In the early hours of the morning, all was restless. How could anyone sleep with all this noise?

The spirits among the outpost’s walls screamed at to be heard. Never in all your time here had they actively sought you. You tried to filter them out, but their cries suffocated you.

“SHUT UP! ONE. AT. A. TIME.” They quietened. “Thank you!”

There was a knock at your door. You went to open it. A grey stood there. He asked you if you were alright. You assured him you were fine and thanked him for checking on you. It was nice to see people still had some level of compassion under these circumstances.

You got on along with some of the greys, you were known for being one of the nicer purples to them. Sadly, that didn’t stop the rumours from getting out. You didn’t know about it at first, you’d been out of it for days since Michael Langdon’s arrival. You only left your room for dinner (the one meal you had a day) and mandatory time in the music room.

A group of purples cornered you in the hallway on your way to the library. “Uh~ hello guys,” you tried to be nice even if you weren’t up to dealing with them.

“L/N,” some said, “Ghost girl” the others did.

“Can I help you?”

“We heard about what you did with Venable.”

“What did I do?” You asked confused. You tilted your head to the side with a dumbfounded look on your face.

“Someone caught you two in the hallway. Another heard you two later. Apparently, she’s quite the screamer.” You didn’t pay attention to who was speaking to you, you were too in your head. Alarms were set off screaming danger for you. If you couldn’t contain the situation quick you were dead meat, and someone would get hurt.

Someone mimicked what the person had heard, including your first name and nicknames.

You gulped, blushing scarlet red. “What?” you stuttered out. Your gaze lowered to the ground. Come on y/n, think quick! “I was in the hallway with her, an-d she d-did do something inappropriate, but it was all her, I pushed her away after the grey left.” You peered up at them. “She was interrogating me about- about earlier that night- the alcohol thing. Why she wasn’t made aware and things like that. I told her I didn’t know. She didn’t believe me and tried a new method to get me to talk. Thankfully she was distracted enough for me to get away.”

“Too bad you’re not with her, maybe you could have gotten her to get rid of the stupid rule on sex,” Timothy said. You gave him a sympathetic nod, hearing whispers that he is with that Emily girl.

“Then what was heard?” Coco asked.

“My best guess, what we all do alone in our rooms. A hand is better than nothing.”

“How did you meet her? The outpost wasn’t the first time.” Gallant asked.

“I don’t think it would be wise-”

“Did you date her or-” Gallant was interrupted.

“I worked for her in the late 2000s. It’s as boring as that. I saw her in passing. I knew all the names of the employees, saying her first name was a slip of the tongue.”

They didn’t know whether to believe you or not, but it was the closest thing they would ever find out to the truth. They could take it as gospel or leave it. Not your problem. They weren’t the ones who get immunity by sleeping with the leader.

They left you alone, but you knew they would be watching you carefully from now on. Any interaction you had with Venable now had resembled how they interacted with her. You had to be one of them. The thought made you sick. Why did she have to introduce that stupid rule?

You were called to go to Venable’s office. Michael had been using it to conduct his interviews. Michael was sitting at Mina’s desk, a file in front of him along with a notebook and pen. The man stood up as you swung the door open announcing your presence.

“Mrs Venable.”

“Uh~” You stood there confused. “Were you expecting Venable? I can go and-”

“No, come in… Ms (L/N), was it?”

“Okay.” You wandered into the room taking a seat where the man motioned for you to sit. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“I read your file but to make sure you are who you say you are, I am going to get you to answer some questions to further, evaluate you.”

“Did you do that for everyone?”

“Everyone I have interviewed thus far.” He flipped open the folder. A voice told you he lied. This room was noisier than the others. Voices of the long-gone stacked on top of each other. It happened whenever he was in your presence, the voices followed him, screaming at him, blaming them for their demise. But that’s impossible, he only arrived a while ago. Your filter was too weak. You needed to concentrate twice as hard to hear what he was saying. “State your full name, age and state/country of birth.” You answered this for him. He jotted some notes down. “Gender and sexual orientation?”

“Female and uh~ gay, well lesbian.” You had never said to anyone here that you were gay, not that they would care about it, but it wouldn’t help people knowing about you and Venable.

“Ever dated a man?”

“No. If you need me to have children in The Sanctuary count me out right now.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Okay, good.”

“How many women have you dated?”

“Seven.”

“Ever been engaged?”

You cock your brow. He knew? Who was he? What the fuck! Is that why he said Venable’s name before? Wait, he said Mrs not Ms. He knew from the start.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Your file says-”

“No, it doesn’t.” Why would it? “The file would only mention if I was married or not and unless I got drunk one night and got married in Vegas, I haven’t.”

“Hmm. Speaking of drinking, a recent note mentions you were an alcoholic.”

“Yep. Why are you interviewing me, I am the worst person you could pick to take to a sanctuary? I’m gay and an alcoholic.”

“Former alcoholic the files said. Those details don’t interest me as much as your mind does.”

“My mind?”

“You have a lot of experience at working.”

“No, I don’t. I’m easily replaceable by a grey.”

“Why are you so willing to pass up the chance to be safe?”

“How do I know that you aren’t making this all up? You could be a phoney.”

“I assure you, I’m not.” Wow, convincing, you thought sarcastically. “You were a medium, correct?”

“Yes. Briefly.”

“Would you go so far as to say it’s a power or gift?” More like a curse. You shook your head. “Can you hear the dead?” You shook your head. “So, you’re a phoney?” You nod. Should you be lying? You were warned not to trust him. “Let’s change the topic.” He circled the table and leant against the desk in front of you. “Something’s worrying you like you don’t know who you are. Who are you?”

“You have my file-”

“A file is just paperwork; it can’t perfectly describe an individual. So, I ask you again, who are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“You're not the first person to say that to me in one of these. Who are you?”

“I just said-”

“What happened in those four years that you wanted to forget?” WHAT? WHO IS THIS MAN? He can’t be human, that’s for sure. “Who… are...you?”

~~~

Your life was just starting to get better. You had the girl of your dreams, the world’s best job and enough money for a comfortable future. Life was perfect.

Then you found out you were a witch. You thought you knew everything you needed to know about yourself. This news threw you for a loop.

You remember watching the interview announcing witches to the world. You were cuddled up in your Wilhelmina’s arms as the segment came on. Mina wanted to change it claiming it was some wacko spouting out nonsense, but you knew better. You told her you wanted to see it. She kept it on for you. The blonde's words resonated with you. They stuck to your thoughts every time you remembered something that happened to you. Mina's mind didn't change, and you didn't expect it too. If she knew what was going on inside your head, she may have given the idea a chance.

One moment you were kissing your girl goodbye before she went to work, the next you were outside the witch school in New Orleans with nothing but a carry-on suitcase.

Wilhelmina had no way of getting into contact with you. Your phone was left on your nightstand next to the empty engagement ring box.

It had been three years since you found yourself at the gates of Miss Robichaux’s. Not a single day went by where you didn’t think about going back to your old life. What you had given up trying to find out more about yourself. She may have understood if only you talked to her. You had no idea what had come of her.

The other student’s had theories about why you always wore an engagement ring. You didn’t let them get to you. A dear friend of yours and Supreme, Cordelia Goode did her best to tell them off when they started to bombard you with questions. No one, not even your friends at the academy knew the true story but they helped you in any way they could whenever you got in your head.

Everything seemed to be going well at the academy. The council kept the dangers under wraps so none of the students knew what was going on until it was too late. You were out in the greenhouse alone, you ditched class for some alone time. It was getting too loud in your head. You put on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones to block out the noise so you could calm down and focus on your studies. You did get a pardon from some classes if you weren't up to it, but you had to prove that you were keeping up with the lessons.

You missed the gunshots and the screams of your sisters as a Hawthorne boy shot up the school in an attempted to kill the supreme.

It was nightfall when you returned into the house turned school. It struck you as odd that the lights were off. On your way to flick on the light, you tripped over something. You fell into a pool of something tacky. You felt around, you spread the substance about. Your hands stuck to the floorboards. Your hands stumbled across something lying on the ground. It felt fleshy. "No." You closed your eyes, wishing for a fire so you could see. You didn't care if you were scolded for burning for lighting the curtains, you had to disprove your suspension.

Bodies, dozens of them laid on the floor. More in other rooms. You counted them, taking record of who was gone. Teachers and students alike. They couldn't all be dead, right? People were missing, about five. The council as well as two students you recognise to be Coco and Mallory.

You had no time to weep, you had to find out what monster did this to them. None of the girls was responding from the afterlife. "Come on. Come on. Please come back to me." You begged and begged but no one came. You couldn't help them if they didn't respond.

You tried every summoning spell, every chant, hell you even tried to calm down in case that was preventing you. As a last resort, you called an old friend. It wasn't hard to get into contact with her, she hadn't changed her number after all these years.

"Y/n, what brings you the pleasure of calling me so late at night?" She probably assumed this was a booty call.

"I-I need your help. How fast can you get to New Orleans?"

"It's 2am-"

"Please~ I'm too weak. I can't hear them."

The woman on the other end sighed. "Text me the address, I'll be there as soon as I can." She was a busy woman now that she was a Hollywood famous Medium with a television show, but somewhere in her heart she still cared for you enough to fly across the country to help you.

There was a ring at the doorbell. You ran to the door flinging it open. Your outfit was stained with other witches’ blood. All you could do was sit and wait for Billie to show up. Your face irritated from your constant sobbing.

"Y/n, what happened?"

"They're dead. Someone killed them. I can't hear them anymore." You pulled her into a hug, sobbing into her shoulder. "I didn't know who else to call."

You showed her all the bodies. Somewhere missing from when you tried to help them and their body's disintegrated.

"I've seen this before…" she went on to tell you about a family that lives in a haunted house. From that tale, a boy of ghost and human was born, the Antichrist. He was able to dissolve a soul-making it as if they never lived at all.

"There must be a way to get a soul back."

"I've never heard of one,” Billie admitted. “I didn’t know it was possible until recently.”

“This can’t be it. They can’t be gone. They existed, there must be a place they’re being stored, their memories like data in a recycling bin on a laptop.”

Billie shrugged, “I only talk to the dead. Resurrection isn’t in my job description.” You couldn’t believe her. If she couldn’t do it then who? “Only someone with knowledge on witchcraft or voodoo would be able to do something like that.” You sighed; this was hopeless. You rubbed your forearm with your now clean hands, standing there awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. “If anyone can figure one out it has to be you."

"You’re just saying that to give me hope."

"I wouldn't tell you if I didn't believe it 100%. I knew you all those years ago. You have changed a lot since then. I knew you would-"

"Where do I look then? All my resources have been taken from me, my sisters have been erased, the ones who are alive are god knows where and I can't master a stupid incantation because it's in Latin."

"What's the spell?"

You showed her the page for a simple location spell. You needed something that belonged the person you were looking for, a map and to be able to speak the incantation in fluent Latin. You didn't own a map because no one uses physical maps these days so you used your phone opened to google maps instead, a blouse you stole from Cordelia's wardrobe for the personal item and Billie helped you by figuring out how to say the enchantment(You think she called someone up so you could learn to pronounce it but you couldn’t recall).

You thanked her for her help, and you were off. You had cleaned off, not wanting to cause a scene in blood-stained clothes in the early hours of the morning. The only belongings you had with you were your phone and the clothes on your back. Everything else was left behind in the crime scene that the school had transformed into.

Who would have guessed there was a little hut hidden away in the woods? You walked up to it, scooping out the area before knocking on the front door. You heard voices from behind it, feminine voices.

You had to try and figure out what you were going to say. How do you explain, ‘I did a spell that led me to this shack, I'm looking for a group of witches please help me?’

The door opened far enough for the person on the other side to see who it was.

"H-hello, I'm Y/N L/N. I was wondering-"

"Y/N," a voice gasped. The door flung open and you were created by the supreme tackling you into a hug. "You're alive? How?" She pulled you into the hut shutting the door after scooping the area quickly. The other witches checked to see who it was. Coco and Mallory light up and reacted similarly to Cordelia. Myrtle told you it was good to see you and even Madison happy enough to offer you a smile.

"I was in the greenhouse and when I went back inside for the night- the girls- I couldn't-" you choked up. Cordelia pulled you into her embrace. "I-I tried. For hours. Called an old friend. Nothing."

"Their souls have been erased."

"I was told their souls have been erased. Wait, you know?"

"Someone told us this information too late," she glared at Madison.

"My friend, she said it was the work of an antichrist or at least last time it was done it was."

"This friend of yourself did she described the person?"

"Male, blonde, looked to be in his twenties…"

The end of the world was coming. An apocalypse to wipe out all but a select few humans who were shoved into outposts all around the world. The spots were saved for the smartest minds and the wealthiest of people.

Myrtle ‘convinced’ the cokeheads organising who goes to the outpost to allow Mr St. Pierre Vanderbilt to purchase tickets to outpost three. Myrtle retold what happened on her trip to comfort a weakening Cordelia. The six remaining witches of your coven hideaway in Misty Day’s home while she was away. Cordelia was curled on the lounge with a blanket on top of her facing Myrtle. The other witch rested at the end of the couch trying to give the blonde as much room as possible. The other girls were fast asleep in the other room. You tasked yourself with making tea for the other two witches.

You were more focused on the tea for Cordelia than Myrtle’s tale. She went on about the interior of the place, nothing important but the blonde seemed to enjoy it.

“Sounds like a place I used to work at,” you reminisced. Cordelia turned to look at you as you walked slowly carried the tray towards them. “Only for a bit before I got a better job. It’s where I met- uh, sorry carry on.”

Your interruption wasn’t minded, the two (mainly Cordelia) was happy you were opening up more about your past before the Coven. It meant you were comfortable around them and that was important now more than ever.

“It’s alright, dear.”

“So, what was this place? What do they do other than plan for the end of the world?” You placed the tray down on the coffee table in front of them. You began pouring a drink for Cordelia.

Myrtle basically told you their one of the leading companies specialising in hyper-realistic robots- mainly for sex purposes without using any of those words. She always spoke with class, which made it more entertaining when she was talking about more vile topics.

You went to hand the teacup to Cordelia when you heard the name of a place you thought you would never have to hear again, Kineros Robotics. The cup slips out of your hand, smashing onto the floor.

“Mina,” you whimpered out. You got stuck in your own memories of the months you worked there as Venable’s assistant.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm~” you hummed.

“You with us?”

You nodded not paying attention to any of the words being said. A hand on your shoulder snapped you back to the present.

“Sorry. I’ll clean that up and make you another.” You go to pour her another tea when your hands are stopped by Cordelia. She seemed to be straining herself to stop you from stressing yourself out any further. She always put others before herself. You didn’t notice until now that your hands were trembling. She asked kindly, for Myrtle to do it for you instead.

“It appears that the ‘Mina’ Y/N mentioned was the secretary,” Myrtle informed Cordelia. “As I was talking to her I noticed the only personal item she had on her desk was a photo and another woman.” Your head was lowered, not wanting to meet either woman’s eyes. You listened to the oldest woman’s words. She moved on. Of course, she did, why would she wait around for a woman you ran away before they joined unions. “It was Y/N.”

You began sobbing. Cordelia pulled you into her embrace.

“I-I don’t know what happened,” you choked up on every second word. Cordelia ran her hands through your hair. She calmly shushed you, wanting to wait until you had calmed down to talk. You kept pushing on, “I-I was with he-r and then I wasn’t. I le-ft her and I don’t remember why. I was happy, why would I-”

“Shhh, you’ll figure it out.”

~~~

“Who… are… you?”

“(Full name)”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“That’s my name.”

“I’m done with you. You deserve to rot here.”

You got up and walked to the door. As your hand settled on the doorknob something clicked in your mind. You knew where you knew that last name from. It was an old client/friend of your former boss. You knew the client enough to know they were somehow related to the man in the room.

You turned around and stared him down. Your hand tightened around the handle. The room grew chiller and you weren’t the only one to notice it for once.

The four years. Something made sense within you. You were here with a purpose. You weren’t sure what it was yet, but you knew it was involved with stopping him. The antichrist.

“No, Michael, you deserve to rot here after all you have done.” The haze you’d been lost in was clearing up. “The spirits are restless and waiting for you to join them. Don’t leave your ‘brothers’ waiting, it will only make them angrier.”

Was that a stupid thing to say? Definity. Was it true? yes. The dead weren’t happy out his current status and if given the chance would stop him by any means. You might be the thing that helps them to do so.

Next Part Link :)

#venable x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #wilhelmina x reader #wilhelmina venable X reader

68 notes · View notes

alexconfusion · 5 years

Note

1-100 please (I’m serious... or at least do like 20 of em. The first twenty. But I’d prefer them all)

Is this a challenge

1 Middle Name- Katherine

2 Age- 13 (yah I know I’m a baby blah blah blah shut up guys djskdjjd)

3 Birthday- May 8, 2006 (8:29am, to be exact)

4 Zodiac- sun: Taurus moon: Virgo, I believe

5 Fav Color- blue is my aesthetic but purple is my fav

6 My Lucky Number- five

7 Pets- two guinea pigs (ginny and lily), two dogs (bailey and maya) [i will provide pics if you want]

8 Where I’m From- Massachusetts

9 Height- 5’1

10 Shoe Size- eight

11 How Many Pairs of Shoes I Own- three

12 My Last Dream- Shane Dawson fixed my family issues and helped me come out to them (it was awesome, 10/10 would do again)

13 My Talents- piano (I have soundcloud check it out if u want), writing

14 Am I Psychic- HELL YEAH I AM shoot me an ask if u wanna know more cuz it’s kind of a long story (ok maybe not actually psychic but it’s a fun story)

15 Favorite Song- Amnesia - 5sos (it makes me cry every time and I don’t even care)

16 Favorite Movie- Into the Spider-Verse

17 My Ideal Partner - idk u tell me

18 Do I Want Kids?- potentially, but if I did I would adopt

19 Do I Want a Church Wedding- nah they look boring. I was part of the wedding party for my cousins wedding and it was absolute torture

20 Am I Religious- not really

21 Have I Ever Been to the Hospital- yeah, I was seven and stepped on glass at the beach (huge gash, kinda gorey, wouldn’t reccomend) anyways I didn’t know I cut my foot open at first and walked around the beach and a fuck ton of sand got in it (I had a very rough summer)

22 Have I Ever Been in Trouble With the Law- fuck no who do you think I am??

23 Have I Met any Celebrities- nope

24 Baths or Showers- showers duh, they’re good for so many things: crying, hair washing, pretending you’re standing in the rain,

25 What Color Socks am I Wearing- striped gray with blue owls (yes they are lit)

26 Have I Ever Been Famous- uh no

27 Would I Like to be a Celebrity?- sometimes I think it would be cool because if I make a lot of money I could help a lot of people, but usually no because having privacy is important to me

28 What Type of Music do I like- pretty much anything but acoustic versions have always had a special place in my heart

29 Have I Ever Been Skinny Dipping?- no gross

30 How Many Pillows do I Sleep With- one on each end of the bed so I can flip upside down and still have a pillow

31 What Position do I Sleep in-

(It’s comfy)

32 How Big is My House- two main floors, attic, basement

33 What do I Have for Breakfast- usually nothing, either because I slept through the normal breakfast time or because I didn’t have time to eat

34 Have I Ever Fired a Gun- no

35 Have I Ever Tried Archery?- Hell yeah I did, summer camp was a wild time almost shot someone in the face

36 Fav Clean Word- twilight

37 Fav Swear Word- fuck

38 Longest I’ve Ever Went Without Sleep- forty eight hours (those were two of the best days of my life btw)

39 Do I Have Any Scars- yeah

40 Have I Ever Had a Secret Admirer- nope but I wish

41 Am I a Good Liar- fantastic, actually

42 Am I a Good Judge of Character- what,, what does this mean??

43 Can I do Any Accents- I can do a really terrible British accent but nobody likes it

44 Do I Have a Strong Accent- nope

45 What is my Favorite Accent- Australian

46 What is my personality type- on the Myers Briggs test I’m an Adventurer (it’s creepily spot on, I highly recommend taking it)

47 My Most Expensive Piece of Clothing- Are vans clothing? If so my blue high top vans that I fucking adore. If not, probably my adidas shorts or something

48 Can I Curl My Tongue- I can do the classic fold in half one and the three leaf clover. look it up, it’s cool as hell

49 Am I am Innie or an Outie- innie

50 Right or Left Handed- right, but I’m ambidextrous when playing golf and I play lacross lefty

51 Am I Scared of Spiders- a little, not a phobia

52 Favorite Food- pears or frozen yogurt

53 Favorite Foreign Food- sushi

54 Am I a Clean or Messy Person- tbh it fluctuates but mostly clean. Like I myself am clean but my room is a wreck yknow

55 Most Used Phrase- “oh shit”

56 Most Used Word- oof

57 How Long do I Take to Get Ready- ten minutes, fifteen tops and five minimum

58 Do I Have an Ego- I don’t think so?

59 Do I Suck or Bite Lolipops- bite

60 Do I Talk to Myself- sometimes, it’s usually just strings of curse words

61 Do I Sing to Myself- yeah on occasion

62 Am I a Good Singer- no but my friends seem to think so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

63 Biggest Fear- losing everyone I care about/everyone I care about hating me

64 Am I a Gossip?- only if it’s not something serious and only to my closest friend

65 Best Dramatic Movie I’ve Seen- schindlers list, haven’t seen the whole thing (I’m kinda scared to) but it looks incredible even though it’s so horrific

66 Do I Like Long or Short Hair- I don’t really care, but I do kind of like longer hair on other people (i.e I like girls) (yes girls with short hair are awesome too but long/medium length hair is just.. yeah.)

67 Can I Name all 50 Stares of America- I could when I was 8 but now I can only list like 10

68 Favorite School Subject- English

69 (haha) Extrovert or Introvert- introvert

70 Have I Ever Been Scuba Diving- no and I don’t think I’d want to

71 What Makes Me Nervous- talking to people I don’t know

72 Am I Scared Of The Dark- not really. unless I like hear a noise and start imagining all the possible causes of the noise and freak myself out

73 Do I Correct People When They Make Mistakes- yeah sometimes, but I try to do it as nicely as I can (unless I don’t like the person *cough* my brother *cough*)

74 Am I Ticklish- yes. very.

75 Have I Ever Started a Rumor- no, but people thought I did and that was a whole mess

76 Have I Ever Been in a Position of Authority- I mean I was a captain when we played kickball in gym (does that count)

77 Have I Ever Drank Underage- nope, and I don’t intent to

78 Have I Ever Done Drugs- nope, and I don’t intend to

79 Who Was My First Real Crush- olivia, fifth grade. I pretended I had a crush on the guy next to her so I could stare at her and pretend I was looking at him

80 How Many Piercings Do I Have- none

81 Can I Roll My Rs- no matter how hard I try I can never seem to get the hang of it. and I’ve tried, believe me, I sound like an idiot every time but I still try

82 How Fast Can I Type- 135 wpm

83 How Fast Can I Run- Moderately fast, but not for very long

84 What Color is My Hair- dirty blonde

85 What Color Are My Eyes- they switch between gray, green, and blue, but they’re mostly a combination of all three with green being the most noticeable (I ask people this question a lot and they usually say blue or green)

86 What am I Allergic to- nothing I’m invincible.

87 Do I Keep a Journal- yup, eight years and counting. fun fact my first entry ever was a full two and a half pages about dolphin facts, complete with a picture

88 What do My Parents do- my moms a vet, idk what my dad does (it’s something with pharmaceuticals I think)

89 Do I Like My Age- eh on the one hand I can say I’m a teen but on the other people are like “omg!!! babey???? ur a babey omfg..”

90 What Makes Me Angry- when people are condescending or hypocritical

91 Do I Like My Name- I hate my first name (irl it’s not alex but I’ll probably end up changing it) and I hate my last name (long story) but I kinda like my middle name cuz it reminds me of Six

92 Have I Thought if Baby Names, if so What Are They- idk I’d probably name them after my friends (i.e hailey, lander, flan, drew, finn, that’s about it)

93 Do I Want a Boy or Girl For a Child- first of all when did I say I wanted a child and second of all I don’t care

94 What Are My Strengths- shitposts

95 What Are My Weaknesses- dealing with emotions, controlling anger, handling criticism, there are definitely others but I’m tired okay

96 How Did I Get My Name- first name: bible, middle name: my great grandmother, last name: my dad

97 Were My Ancestors Royalty- not that I know of

98 Do I Have Any Scars- see #39

99 What Color is My Bedspread- I don’t have one but my sheet is dark blue

100 What Color is My Room- a light blue teal-ish color

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buckys-other-punk · 6 years

Text

Would You Just Listen To Me

Bucky x Reader

Warnings: my attempt at fluff, stressful reader, rude-ish Bucky and cuss words

Word Count: 1991

Prompt: “I’m pregnant.”

Summary: Reader found out she’s pregnant and Bucky is to busy to hear the important news from his soon to be wife. (I suck at summaries sorry)

A/N: @caplansteverogers, thank you for letting me be a part of your fluffy challenge. If you want to be tagged let me know and feedback is appreciated! Please don’t mind any mistakes, I skimmed through this so its kinda unedited.

Tags: @amour-quinn @carabarnes13

___________________________________________________________________

*1 month ago*

“What the hell?” you said as you threw up again for the past two weeks. Wanda was rubbing your back lovingly.

“Are you sick hun? Maybe you shouldn’t go on the mission (Y/N) this month. We don’t want you to get worse.” Nat said, well demanded.

“Natasha is right (Y/N). Just relax for a few weeks and see if you get any better.” Wanda said as she helped you up from the floor. You sighed and nodded.

“Fine I’ll stay here and binge watch Stranger Things...again.” you said in defeat as you walked to the living room with the two girls behind you. You sat down on the couch and grabbed the blanket that was resting on the back of the couch and wrapped it around your body. Nat sat down next to you while Wanda brought you a glass of water. “So who’s going on the mission with you guys?” you asked the two.

Nat and Wanda looked at each other. “Well Steve, Tony, Vision, and Bucky.” You looked at them in shock.

“What? Bucky never told me he was going on the mission.” you said aloud. The two girls looked at each other then back to you. They both shrugged and got up from their positions.

“(Y/N) just relax for a while. I promise we will let you know if anything bad happens during the mission.” Natasha said. Wanda nodded and gave you a small hug and the two walked back towards their rooms. You sighed and turned on the television to distract your mind a bit.

As everyone was about to leave, Bucky walked up to the couch where you were laying down. He looked over at your state seeing you all wrapped up in a giant blanket scrolling through your phone while the tv was making noise. He tapped your shoulder and smiled at you. You were at the brink of falling asleep, but Bucky had to wake to up. He walked around the couch and in front of you and smiled. You sat up and looked at Bucky.

Bucky sighed and said “The girls told me that you can’t come to the mission with us.” You nodded and looked down sadly.

“You better come back in one piece Bucky or I swear I will get Hulk to beat you senselessly.” You threatened. Bucky laughed and kissed your forehead.

“I promise I’ll be back with no scratches or bruises.” He said purely as he looked into your eyes. You nodded and pecked his lips and as you drew away he grabbed the back of your head and deepened the kiss. As the kiss deepened Bucky pushed you both down on the couch with him on top of you. Right when it was about to get heated you both heard “Alright Buckaroo, you ready to go-oh!” You both drew apart and looked over at Tony. Tony covered his eyes and said wiggling his eyebrows “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.” Bucky looked at you with sorry eyes and sighed with his head down.

“I’ll be ready in a minute Tony.” Bucky said in defeat. As Tony began to walk away Bucky got off of you and kneeled in front of you. “Babe I promise I’ll be back before you know it.” he smiled as he whispered in your ear. You nodded and kissed him passionately for the last time this month. As he withdrew with the rest of the crew to go to the mission you waved as the quinjet descended.

*Present*

“Bucky, you said you would be back in a month.” you reminded looking at your phone to see your boyfriend’s face.

“I know doll, but Tony thinks we need T’challa’s help for the mission so we are stopping by in Wakanda.” he replied sadly. You frowned as you both heard Natasha requesting for everyone to meet with Tony. “ I gotta go now doll there’s a meeting that’s happening. I’ll call you back later ok? Love you.”

As you were about to reply back the call lost its signal. You sighed and walked out of your room to the kitchen. You were having an ungodly cravings for the past two months. For lunch you wanted pizza with peanut butter, pickles, M&M’s and caramel sauce on top. You put the frozen cheese pizza in the oven and looked for the other ingredients in the pantry. As you finished preparing your lunch Bruce walked into the kitchen. He looked in the fridge and got a bottle of water. As you began eating Bruce looked in your direction. He stared at your pizza with a questionable and disgusted face.

“Umm (Y/N)? Whacha got there?” he said kindly.

With your mouth stuffed you replied, “Pizza” looking at him in concern. “Why? Do you want some?” you offered. He quickly shook his head no.

“(Y/N) you’ve been having these weird cravings for a while now right?” he asked you and you nodded agreeing with his statement. “Are you still throwing up?” he asked another question. You thought for a bit and shook your head no. “Why don’t you come with me to the lab. I have a theory on your health.” You sighed and followed him while bringing your entire pizza with you. As you both entered the lab you sat down on the exam table. He attached some wires all over your body connecting it to his computer. After a few tests and 5 more slices of pizza he got the results. “Well my theory was right (Y/N).”

“Well spit it out what is it?” you asked sternly.

“You’re pregnant.” he said quietly at first.

“Speak up Banner I couldn’t hear you.” you yelled at the scientist.

“You’re pregnant (Y/N)!” he said with a smiled.

“Holy shit. I gotta call Bucky” you whispered. “Um, I’m gonna lay down for a but Bruce.” you said to him and he nodded understandingly. You walked out of the lab and back to your room. You went on your computer to video chat your boyfriend. As it rang and rang your mind was spiraling. He never answered. “Probably he’s really busy? I’ll call back later.” you said to yourself. You gave up on calling a grew tired. Slowly your eyes began to flutter close and your consciousness began to drift as you fell asleep.

*Later that evening*

The crew had came back just before supper. They were all tired and sat down in the dining table as they began to eat Chinese food. You had just woken up and walked to the dining area to see everyone there eating. You walked up to Bucky and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you back safe and sound Bucky. I have some important news to tell you.” you whispered in his ear.

Bucky replied with “Doll can this wait until tomorrow? I’m really beat wit the trip back. I need some rest.” You nodded and both exited the dining room saying good night to everyone. As walked with back to your room with Bucky, you went to the bathroom to take a quick shower and he began to change out of his clothes. As you finished cleaning yourself you saw Bucky asleep on your bed. You walked over to the bed and laid next to Bucky with both your hands on your stomach smiling small.

*The next day*

When you woke up the space next to you was empty. You huffed and got out of bed to find you boyfriend. You entered the kitchen and found him there with Sam and Steve. They were all having breakfast with one another.

“Bucky I need to talk to you about something.” you said to him.

“(Y/N), the guys and I are about to go for a run. Can you tell me when I get back.” he said in a rush as the three men were close to exiting the kitchen.

You groaned in defeat, “Fine.” You watched as the three left the building.

“(Y/N) is everything fine?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, peachy just fucking peachy, Tony. Thanks for asking.” you said sarcastically while also yelling at him at the same time. You got an entire box of donuts that was laying on the counter and pop tarts and stormed off to your room.Tony just stood there speechless.

*Later*

Bucky and the boys were back and everyone was in the dining area. Wanda and Vision was making everyone lunch. Everyone was in a seat talking to one another as you walking in. You walked towards Bucky as he was talking to Steve.

“Bucky, I really need to talk to you.” you said sternly. You were pissed he’s been putting you off and you should be pissed. You were pissed to the max because of your hormones.

“Doll, Steve and I were just about to go train. Just tell me later ok?” he said as he began to stand up from his spot.

“Buck-” you started.

“Doll, just tell me later.” he interrupted you.

“But-” you replied.

“(Y/N), later” he again interrupted. Oh now you had it. You were in rage.

“I’M FUCKING PREGNANT!” you yelled. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at you.

“What?” Bucky asked.

“I’m pregnant.” you said hushed looking at him.

“How long?” he asked another question.

“About 2 months.” you replied.

“Holy shit.” you heard from behind you.

“Buck, I think now’s a good time.” Steve said to his friend. You looked at Steve questionably then at Bucky. Bucky nodded and then got on one knee.

“Oh fuck.” you said. Bucky pulled out a small black box and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful diamond ring you ever saw in your life. “Bucky, before you fucking say anything. You better not be marrying be because of this baby.”

He scoffed, “The baby completely brand-new news to me, but I want this (Y/N). I’ve known you for a while now and we’ve been dating for years. I think you are the most beautiful and caring woman in the world. You helped me through my darkest times and were there for me when I had nobody. You are the light of my life and bring me joy. (Y/N), I would be honored if you called me your husband and you my wife. Also to be the father to our child. Wait the baby is mine right? I don’t have to beat someone up.”

You laughed and scoffed, “You’re the father Bucky.”

He smiled. “So (Y/N) will you marry me?” he asked.

“No.” you said with a straight face and everyone gasped. Bucky’s face fell and just when he was about to get up you stopped him. “I’m fucking kidding Bucky. Of course I will marry you!” You grabbed him and kissed him deeply. Everyone was cheering for the two of you. You both drew apart smiling. Everyone was wishing you all congratulations.

“Wait, do you guys want to hear your baby’s heartbeat?” Bruce asked. You both nodded and everyone said yes in excitement. You all went to the lab and Bruce prepared the equipment. You all heard a faint thumping. A heartbeat. Bruce showed the ultrasound on the screen to everyone. There was two blobs.

“Oh my god. Is that what I think it is?” Natasha asked. Bruce nodded.

“You guys are having twins.” Bruce said as he smiled.

Everyone cheered and you and Bucky looked at each other in astonishment. “Wow I’m having twins.” you said to yourself smiling at Bucky.

AWW HOW CUTE RIGHT? I tried very very hard on this guys. This took me days DAYS to write (I suck at fluffy writing), but I hope this was good. Like always let me know if you wanna be tagged and if you liked this. Feedback is always makes me happy. :D

#fluffyforcaplan #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky #reader x bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #marvel #reader insert

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humanityinahandbag · 7 years

Text

Five More Minutes: DWD Drabble

A Darkwing Duck fanfiction for squidsfeather and (sort of) for sonichearts (you requested a self doubt fic, and I realized while writing this that there was some of that here, but honestly I’ve already got another one going that’s just all self doubt so you’re getting two… Fun times!)

Anywho…

Let’s get into this!

Five More Minutes: In which Darkwing Duck hates clocks, time, and the general boredom and insufferable anxiety that they provide.

Drake Mallard was not a duck known for his patience. Nor was he known for his exceeding talent at waiting while the clock ticked on without him. His years alone, living in a spacious and barren room on the very top of a hollowed out bridge, had allowed him to use the available space to scream at any pitch he’d wanted whenever frustrations ran high. And he’d done that.

Quite a lot.

It was so much easier than venting to a too expensive shrink about his inability to handle boredom. Or anxiety. Or frustration. Or much anything at all that impeded his ability to run smoothly and rapidly and on his own singular schedule.

If anyone asked what Darkwing Duck’s weakness was, he’d say it was the passing of time. For the boredom it brought, and the chances it took away. He was rarely standing still, rarely giving himself a moment to breathe.

He preferred it that way..

(All the time)

(Most of the time)

(Some of the time)

Stillness was for suckers and losers and people who wandered aimlessly through their mundane and meaningless lives. Not for superheroes. And certainly not for terrors who flapped in the night.

So when he’d thought about making a change in his life-

“You’re kidding.” He had few friends outside of work -actually, scratch that, he had no friends outside of work- and so it wasn’t the best day when the only one he considered something of an acquaintance had decided to test those very thin bonds by snorting at him. “You’re doing what?”

Eddie Egbberta wasn’t even really an acquaintance. He was the man who handed Drake Mallard his coffee three times a week over the counter of the local cafe. They exchanged occasional conversation and kept personal information to a minimum. Which was fine with Drake.

He knew exactly three things about Eddie; he enjoyed coffee, he was constantly pondering upon the state of his gayness, and his least favorite color was magenta because, as he’d put it, the word was created by the very rich to paint their own walls and tie up our tongues.

Eddie, in return, knew three things about Drake; he was irritable, he took his coffee black, and he had the patience for exactly nothing.

It was the latter that had Eddie clutching to the counter for support.

Drake sniffed, pushing down the already secured coffee lid. “I told you-”

“You’re adopting!” Eddie drew back, grabbing another cup and filling it halfway with skim. The cashier shouted back something about a pumkin spiced something and Eddie nodded their way before setting to work. “I just…” he jammed the cup under the foamer and switched on the nozzle. The air was clogged with the whrrrr. “You do know that kids take like… time, right?”

“I sort of guessed.”

“And you have to like… stand still for two fucking seconds-”

“Uh huh-”

“And you need patience-”

“Is there something you’d like to say?” the sweater vested duck shot back, his tone gone sour. “Please do.”

“It’s just…” Eddie drew the cup away and poured decaf into the cup before sprinkling it with something that smelled like a candle. “You don’t seem like the type. You know?”

For a moment, it isn’t Drake Mallard standing there. It’s Darkwing Duck. And he’s holding his coffee cup tight enough to burst. “What’s the type.”

“You know…” Eddie doesn’t notice the tension between writing a name on the newest coffee. “Someone who has an actual house. And who isn’t a total hot head who brings back his coffee if his goddamn name is spelled wrong.” Apparently he hadn’t forgotten the incident from a month ago, for which he’d been totally justified. Names were important things and his wasn’t Blake. Eddie finished scribbling and capped his pen. He called out “CHARLOTTE” before picking up a new cup. “You’d also have to be someone who buys juice boxes,”

“I hate juice boxes. They’re just sugar in a container.”

“You hate everything.” He poured in whole milk and started up the steamer. “How’s that gonna work for a kid.”

Drake Mallard looked down at his cup again. There was no sleeve, and it was beginning to sting his hand. Darkwing Duck recedes. “Yeah,” said Drake, who was in almost no mood to fight. Maybe because yelling at a barista in the middle of a crowded coffee shop sounded like his own personal nightmare.

Maybe because, in a way, the barista was kind of, sort of, definitely right.

“Hey man,” Eddie handed the candle coffee off to another customer, who looked between them curiously before dragging themselves slowly away, an ear still half glued to their conversation, “let me know what you do. But like… my sister just had a kid, dude, and you gotta be ready to just sort of… sit there. You know? Just sort of listen to the clock and let things happen.”

“Right…” said Drake. And then; “Uh… see you next week.”

Eddie waved him away.

Drake would not be returning the next week. Instead, he’d use it to wallow in his own self deprecation while the clocks around him tortured the silence with their awful tick tick tick and Drake followed along with them, knowing full well that if this was to be his life, then maybe he’d end up just scarring some poor child and being the worst father to ever grace the earth. He was becoming everything he ever hated. Everything that frightened him. Everything that he’d always promised himself he’d never become. He was too good for the mundane, for the adequate, for the dreadful normalcy that some people settled with.

This was settling.

Yet, somehow, the paperwork managed to be filed and the interviews managed to get done, and he stood in front of the orphanage doors, feeling his wrist watch ticking away, and wishing he had just five more minutes-

(just)

(just five more)

-to make this decision before he dove into what might have been the worst choice he’d ever made. But he was notoriously bad at waiting for things. And so it may have been merely his fear of boredom and time that drove him to cross the threshold and stand in the office and catch a little girl who ran towards him.

(I’ve gotta take care of myself)

(now that I’m going to have a new adopted daughter to worry about)

She calls him Mr. Mallard for a month. And he hates it, but he says little towards it. Whatever makes her happy. She’s been in and out of homes, lost a grandfather, and god knows who her parents were. The last thing she needs is to look at him as a replacement father. If she wants to call him Mr. Mallard for the rest of her life-

“Dad…” she says one night, so shyly it might have just broken his heart and made a home in the cracks, “can we repaint my room… I hate pink…” He’d gotten the room ready for a little girl and might have gone overboard and he’s so deep in the middle of regretting it that he barely notices what she’s called him until he’s catching on and remembering just how breathing worked.

Drake Mallard finds it odd that he suddenly wishes the clocks would stop. That they’d tick on, but time wouldn’t, and that he could have five more minutes with his new title burrowing its way down and infecting every exploding cell in his chest.

He corals her to the car and they buy green paint that day. Soon there are baseball posters and a blue duvet and stacks of comic books, and she’s clinging to his waist looking around her new little hovel and squealing thanks dad into his shirt and he’s looking around with her and deciding that, yes, this was much more suitable.

This was all more suitable.

“No problem, honey,” he says.

He tries those names on his tongue a few more times.

His parents never called him that. Sweetheart, sweetie, honey, dearest. He hadn’t cared then. There was barely any love lost, and he hadn’t thought it was important when he’d lived under their roof. The history has them feeling a little clunky coming out of his mouth, so he practices them often. Like it would erase the lack of them from his own pithy youth.

He matches them against the ticking of the clocks on the stove, and he uses them as often as he can, revealing in the little ways it makes her face light up just so until she looks less like a duckling in a new and scary environment and more like someone he’d lived there long enough to acclimate into the idea of nicknames and bedtime stories and juice boxes in the cupboard.

Drake Mallard sort of loves that he can call someone sweetheart.

And he sort of also loves the grape juice boxes, too.

She tells him that she loves him first. Mostly because he forgot to say it. Or rather, thought that he had. He had sort of assumed that his fast paced caregiving was the same as love. That his never-ending movement (cook, clean, dress, bathe, repeat) would be sufficient.

He was a man of action, after all. And movement to him meant everything. Meant that not a moment was wasted. Wasn’t that just enough? To know that not a second was wasted on you? To know that-

“Night, dad,” she says, tugging at the hem of her pajamas. There’s a spot of toothpaste on the edge of her bill and her soft feathers are still a little wet and warm from the bath. He’s on the couch, and she’s supposed to already be asleep, but she had gotten up and snuck down the stairs and flopped down to reach her arms as far around his waist as they could go. In the background, the newscaster talked about Darkwing Duck before switching to a story on a car wash shutting down after its money laundering was caught by a pizza boy on an afternoon run.

He almost doesn’t hear her over the interview of Pizza Boy who’s name was Todd and who’s appearance was just as Todd-ish as you’d expect, from the swept bangs to the smacking of his stale gum.

Still, somehow, he catches it.

“I love you.”

He doesn’t know what to say.

Except he does.

“Love you too, Gos.” And then: “aren’t you supposed to already be in bed, Little Miss!” because the first rule about being a superhero is not letting them know when you’ve been broken. Or stunned. Or when you’re so positively drowning in love and you can’t seem to speak.

He watches her scamper back up the stairs and hears her shuffle around before all is quiet and he can mute the television and just sort of listen to the clocks turn around him.

He could have had five more minutes of that. Just to hear her voice say it again.

It hits him sometime after midnight while he stares at the ceiling.

He’s a father.

The mundane becomes the one thing that sets his heart hammering.

He tells her good morning over breakfast and tells her he loves her just after he finishes buttering the toast, just so he can hear her say it back and know that it wasn’t just a dream.

“Love you too, dad,” she calls back, mouth full of jam and toast, feet already out the door. Honker was no doubt waiting for her, ready to watch her crash and burn from a distance, and equally as prepared to console her once the punishment of a long, worthy grounding was provided.

He had someone to ground. Which he shouldn’t love as much as he did. But…

She sounds like she’s practically done with him. Like she’s already exasperated with her father over something he’d said or done.

He loves that, too.

He adds a few more clocks to his house. And one to his lair.

He’s not as afraid of them anymore.

He brings her to the coffee shop. Sort of to show off, and sort of because she had been nagging him for hot chocolate and they had the most mediocre cup around. Which just meant one less thing he had to make when he was feeling particularly lazy.

Eddie is still there. And he’s still making coffee. And when he looks over at the counter, shouting out the name on the cup -GOSALYN MALLARD- he catches Drakes eye and nearly drops the cup. “Oh my god!” he smiles. “He returns!”

“He returns,” Drake agrees. “So… can I take-” he motioned to the cup.

Eddie squinted at him. “This is yours…?” He checked the name again.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Wow, they got your name really wrong.”

“No, it’s not-”

“It’s mine! Mine! Right here!” The girl had gone off to harass someone while she scoured for napkins, and is back in full force, clinging to his vest and popping up over the counter to grab at the treat.

“Gosalyn, what do we say?”

She has the good sense to look mildly shame faced before muttering “please” and Eddie hands it over and down to her, eyes looking more and more like those knots you found on trees.

“Oh…” said Eddie. “Oh-”

“This is Gosalyn.” Her scarf was slipping and Drake leaned down to fix it. “Gosalyn. This is Eddie. He makes coffee.”

“Hi Eddie who makes Coffee,” said Gosalyn, who was about as interested in all of this as she could bear to manage. “I’m going to find cinnamon.”

“Just stay close!” She scampered away and Drake sighed. “If she breaks anything, I’m not paying for it.” It didn’t sound like a joke.

Still, there were more important things than the implication of a ruined store. Eddie looked at the red headed girl, and back to the duck in front of him. “So that’s your-”

“Uh huh.”

“You actually-”

“I did.”

“You did.” Eddie looked over at the girl again, who had gotten a good deal of cinnamon into her cup, and an even greater deal onto the floor and into the purse of some lady who’d been foolish enough to look away. “Oh holy shit. You did. You actually-” Eddie smiled, huge. “You’re a dad!” He blinked. “Oh man. You’re a dad.”

Drake tries to keep the sourness at bay, but he’s almost too giddy with the declaration and whatever bitterness sat there got up and left. “I’m a dad.”

“Hows it feel.”

“Weird.” Drake said. “Different. Terrifying.”

“I mean… I didn’t think you’d actually…” he shook his head. “Hows the old Drake Mallard patience keeping up.”

Drake snorted into his coffee, dragging back a long gulp. “You’d be surprised.” He saluted the barista before whipping his head around and barking “Gosalyn, what have we talked about” and the old Drake Mallard patience roared into view again.

Some things never changed.

But, as Eddie recalled, the single bachelor hadn’t been able to stay in the coffee shop for long. The tables by the windows and the few chairs by the promotional coffee stands were never things he used, and he’d rushed out right after his hand had touched the cup- out to do god knows what.

Now he sits at the table and jokes with the little girl and lights up when he’s able to make her laugh. She makes faces and every so often there’s a mention of a zombie or alien or something that he rolls his eyes at but plays along with enough that she keeps going, unswayed and encouraged.

The clocks tick on around them, and the old stereos blast some awful acoustic songs, and the smell of artificial pumpkin is thick in the air, and the daughter and father sit by the window an hour after they’ve finished their coffee, and time just keeps ticking on.

There are new socks in the laundry and shoes by the door, and as the months pass his orderly life is disrupted in every which way. He has calendars now, hanging in the kitchen, and marked with school functions and baseball games.

His time in the cape has to be given certain hours, and he has to learn how to back away and let the police actually do something because yes, he’d love to help out, but his Gosalyn (his Gosalyn) had made the semi finals and was basically carrying her entire soccer team on her back, and he needed to be in those stands to watch.

So he was.

She scored three goals and only got into two fights, which made up for a success.

He remembers once that he’d promised himself that his life would be anything but mundane.

While he’s busy picking up shoes and vacuuming the rug, and packing apple slices in little baggies for the morning, he wonders how he let himself think something so ridiculously stupid.

Launchpad thinks it all fate. “I’m telling you, DW,” he says, drying dishes and putting them on the rack by the sink, “you were meant to be a father!”

“Eh,” says Drake.

“No! Really! My nan used to say that, you know. That we’re all just sort of meant to be things.”

Drake seals another baggie of apples. “Eh,” he says again.

He doesn’t think anyones meant to be anything. He was meant to be a father as much as he was meant to be a hero. He fought for the latter until he’d made his mark.

As he climbs the stairs and pokes his head into her room, he sort of realizes that he might have fought for this, too.

Drake sees that there’s nothing settling about coming home to a noisy house. And that there’s nothing dreadful about using this newly formed dad voice that he saves for commands about room cleaning and vegetable consuming. And that there’s nothing awful about stacking folded clothes on a bed only to have them be unfolded and scattered everywhere.

Or being caught up in a hug.

There are mornings -rare mornings- where nothing happens. Where it’s maybe just too rainy outside, or there’s no soccer games on television, or Darkwing Duck hasn’t been needed in a week or two, so the news is glossing over the usual soft stories, and their house finds itself quiet.

An odd occurrence. But not an unwelcome one.

He’s gotten very good at spotting them.

Opening his eyes, Drake Mallard looks up at his ceiling, hears the pit-pit-pit on the window, and sinks further back into the pillow.

The doorknob is jiggled softly, ticking as its turned, and the red pigtails appear first, before the rest of the face finds itself peering round the corner. She doesn’t say anything, but she’s dragging her blanket behind her and slides carefully into the rain darkened room. They both know he’s not asleep. Or, at least, he assumes she knows by the way she jostles his mattress climbing up it.

He doesn’t mind. Every once in a while, he doesn’t mind.

She (quietly, carefully) tries to wrestle with her own blanket and is (mostly) successful until there’s a foot in his side and a hand sort of pinching his arm, and she gives up completely and lets the blanket flump to the floor before delicately (or as delicate as a thirty pound gosling with a clumsy streak could manage) lifted up his blankets and burrowed beneath with him. There wasn’t much room. He had a King bed coming along, but had never had much need for it since before he’d had a child and had spent most his time outside.

And yes, an entire year in might have been a little long to wait but sue him, old habits died hard.

She pushed herself all the way under the covers until only the top of her head poked out. Her feet -which were freezing and he’d have to enforce some fascistic mandatory sockwear after this- stuck against his knees before she settled back. It didn’t escape him that she left a great deal of room between them.

Or as much as she could leave without her feet shoved against his knees.

He should have kicked her out. There wasn’t much room. And old him, the I’m-Not-a-Father-I’m-an-Eternal-Bachelor him, the one-year-prior him who still sort of lived in his brain and occasionally came out on especially foul days, might have found any reason to. And the exasperated father who’d bloomed overtime was just as absolutely peeved by the loss of his stretching space.

This was a rainy morning though. A tired, slow morning. And the tiny thing in front of him, so absolutely small compared to the hugeness of her importance which never ceased to amaze him-

he had a child

he, Drake Mallard, had a child

a living, breathing, dependent child

a real life, absolutely adoring, loved him to pieces child

-had crawled out of her bed on a Saturday, ignoring every comic most likely stacked in a messy pile on her nightstand, just to be with him. There was something so effortlessly wonderful about that.

A year. A whole year. And he still marveled.

He moved. She stiffened, thinking she’d woken him. As if that mattered. His arms, thick with sleep, wound around her and pulled her farther under the covers with him, clutching her to his chest. The bottom of his bill rested on the top of her head. “Hey, Slugger,”

She wiggled, bumping into him, leaving what might have been a nice bruise for later, before twisting around and pushing her face into his chest. He felt her yawn before snuggling more securely against him. “It’s raining.”

“It is.” She smelled like coconut shampoo from the bath he’d practically thrown her into the night before. Her downy feathers, still so soft at her age, were fluffed, and he dragged his fingers through the ones at her neck. He remembered when he’d lost his downy finally at the age of eight. The pediatricians he’d taken Gosalyn to for her annual boosters all said that hers would fall out eventually, and it wasn’t unusual for some children to hold onto theirs longer than others, and he didn’t let them know that he secretly wished she never would, because oh god, he’d only had her for a year and she was already going on ten, and there was so much he’d missed at the hands of those who’d raised her before he had-

“Can we have pancakes?”

His mind paused. “What?”

“Can we have rainy day pancakes?” her mouth sounds like its full of sleep. She pushed her face against his pajama shirt. “You smell like smoke.”

“Fire last night.”

She regarded it with a casual nod. And then: “So can we have pancakes?”

He thought for a moment. Thought a moment more. And then he grabbed her up quickly and blew a raspberry in the fold of her neck. Gosalyn shrieked, laughed, and batted at his face between her cackles of uncle uncle! “Yes, we can make pancakes,” he pulled her close again, feeling her tiny body vibrate with little continuing giggles. “Just… five more minutes.”

“Daaaad.”

“Five more minutes, Gos.”

He wanted to tell that to time. Look it in the face and hold onto his little downy child and say five more minutes over and over again until this moment stuck a permanent tac in itself and let them be.

There’s a defeated sadness in the reality that it can’t be.

By some miracle, though, she at least settles. Groaning and complaining, but wiggling closer and sighing deep. Her ear is over his chest. He wonders what his heart must sound like to her. Wonders if she used to do this with her grandfather- sitting on the couch with her ear just over his heart. Wonders if its a kid thing. Or just a her thing.

Old Drake Mallard wags a finger at him from somewhere far, far back in his mind, motioning to the smallness of the twin bed and the ticking away of the time. Not acceptable! Spoling her! Martial rule! You’re Darkwing Duck, not a mundane suburban parent! There are things to do! People to save! Time is wasting! Time! Time is wasting!

Oh hush, says the new part of his brain. Father Drake, which evolves a little more each day, and who has started sprouting a pink apron over his daily ensemble, leans on an imaginary wall and crosses his arms, and ignores the clock. What’s five more minutes. Right?

Which was true enough.

Gosalyn wasn’t off trying to destroy something. There was no sound of breaking china or the screams of furious neighbors. No teacher calls about baseball in the hallways. No screaming matches between the two of them about the absolute parental rule he had over their home.

She’s falling back asleep, pancakes temporarily forgotten. Her breathing was soft, staggered with little snores. Her chest rising and falling between beats, and her legs twitching out every so often. He didn’t want to call it peaceful. God knows he hated the word.

It was… still.

That was the word he’d use.

Everything was just… still.

The flicker of the clock ticking, the careful and steady rain and the smothered sunlight through he shutters, the yowling of a siren farther off, and the soft, soft, soft breathing of the little girl.

He pulled her close and drew her in and matched his breathing to hers.

Five more minutes.

What was five more minutes.

#darkwing duck #darkwing dad #TAKE THIS #two down #sort of???#Darkwing Duck fic #it's sort of... all over the place #but you can have it #:)

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