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prettyboypucey · 3 years

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Weird ~ G.W.

Summary: George is gorgeous. Charlie is a meddler. The snow is cold. (this summary sucks...just read it)

Pairing: George Weasley x Y/N

Word Count: 2,404 (who do I think I am?)

Warnings: mentions of bullying. mentions of food/eating. george is unknowingly triggering? reader cries. idk? let me know if i missed something.

A/N: part 2? maybe? translations are for romanian via google translate. do not come for me if they are hella wrong.

Translations: draga - darling; dragoste - love; tampit - stupid

I had never been normal. From the time I was a toddler I had stars in my eyes and dirt on my knees. While the other kids in my grade were playing with dolls and dressing respectably, I was riding imaginary dragons and wearing mismatched socks with dungarees and a butterfly headband. Normalcy evaded me even further when at 11 years old, I got a letter declaring me a witch.

When I first came to Hogwarts I spent the majority of my time alone. It appeared that even children who could wave a stick around and makes things fly wanted nothing to do with the colorful little girl. Meeting Luna Lovegood in my second year was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Here was a girl who allowed me to be exactly who I was with no judgments. And then she introduced me to Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley, and suddenly that little girl who thought her only friends would always be the rocks she painted faces on, had found her people.

Of course, being friends with Ginny Weasley meant knowing her many brothers. So after graduation when I went off to Romania to work with dragons it made me feel slightly better knowing Charlie Weasley would be there. He quickly took me under his wing and became the older brother figure I had never had. After working together for three years, and electing to stay at the sanctuary for the last two over the holidays, he had finally convinced me to come home with him. I was reluctant to leave the sanctuary - the one place I truly feel safe (despite the massive fire breathing creatures).

Charlie had warned me that being with one or two of the Weasleys was very different from being with the entire Weasley clan. Obviously I knew Charlie and Ginny, Ron had always been nice to me, and I had met Molly a handful of times in passing. However, Bill was known to be quite intimidating, Percy was supposedly very no-nonsense, and the twins (albeit never cruel) had a reputation of being hell-raisers.

Apparating to the edge of a marsh with Charlie by my side I could see the rising structure haphazardly balanced slightly ahead.

Pausing, I glanced at the back of the familiar red covered head, “I don’t know Charles, maybe I should just go back. I really don’t want to be a burden.”

Charlie very quickly rounded behind me to continue guiding me towards his home, “No, no, no, no, no. No. You’re not a burden to anyone draga. Keep your head up and if any of them give you grief - remind them of the giant, winged beasts you can feed them to.”

Quickly placing a kiss to the side of my head Charlie bounded ahead again to open the door and announce your arrival. Before I could toe off the first boot to leave next to the dozen other pairs in the entryway, a pair of arms had flung around my neck.

“Y/N! I missed you so much!”, Ginny pulled back, keeping her grip on my shoulders, to inspect for any major injuries.

I held onto her elbows, keeping her close, “Hi Gin, I missed you too. A lot. I’m loving this new look by the way.”

She reached up to brush the now short locks behind her ears. A grin on her face as the two of us looked the other over for the first time in months. Ginny was wrapped in a pretty baby pink sweater with shades of red and white running through it. The material was soft against my palm as I hooked it around her crooked elbow to follow her into the living area.

“You know”, she started, “I was starting to think maybe Charlie had let you get eaten or burnt to a crisp in the land of dragons. It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me or left the sanctuary.”

“I’m sorry Ginny. It’s just that after everything, I had to keep myself busy.”

Ginny’s smile softened into one of understanding. The war had taken a part of all of us. Although Fred had recovered after many months, that fear of almost losing such a vital part of their family had rocked the entire Weasley family to its core.

“I get it, I do, but I worry about you. I just want you to know you’re not alone Y/N.”

I pulled the girl into another tight hug, “I know.”

Ginny pulled away first, clearing her throat, “Okay! Now that’s out of the way - it’s time to introduce the one and only Y/N L/N to the Weasley’s.”

I hummed, “Hmmm and which of us should be more scared?”

“Oh definitely the Weasleys.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Meeting the Weasley family had gone much better than expected.

Molly had opened her arms and home to me as if I was one of her own children. By the time the night was over she had me stuffed full of warm food and drink and donning my very own coveted Weasley sweater, the lavender initial in the middle marking it as my own. Arthur had been very interested in my muggle parents and upbringing, questioning me about the functions of a rubber duck. Bill and his wife Fleur were the most stunning couple I have ever seen, and not nearly as intimidating as people portrayed them. Fleur was pleased when she found out I spoke a bit of conversational French and promised to have me over to Shell Cottage (apparently they have an amazing collection of wind chimes that I am dying to see). Percy was a bit more refined. Completely polite and friendly but he seemed reserved. Ginny had explained in one of her letters how much guilt Percy carried after the Battle of Hogwarts over how he had behaved in the years leading up to that day.

The twins were much different than I remembered them being from the few times we were around each other in school. The physical differences were clear - George’s missing ear and Fred’s dragging limp were both signs of the prices they paid in the war. More than that however, they had matured greatly. They were still happy and made sure to pull at least two pranks over the night, poor Molly nearly lost her voice after they blew up the turkey. However, there was something in their eyes that had been dimmed. Especially in George.

His twin almost died that night, and it reflected in George’s eyes each time he looked at his older brother. It was clear that he was still afraid because whenever Fred left a room George followed, never letting his brother out of his sight, and if he happened to lose track of him a panic began to swirl in his brown orbs.

I was in the middle of watching as George yet again made his way to Fred’s side, clapping a large hand on his twins shoulder and throwing his head back in laughter.

“So which one are you staring at dragoste?”, Charlie whispered as he appeared out of nowhere.

I ignored the burning in my cheeks as I looked away from the scene in front of me.

“I am not staring at either of them tampit.”

“Mhmm, sure, absolutely, I believe you.”, after a quick pause he said, “It’s George isn’t it?”

I turned and scoffed at him, “No!… How did you know?”

Charlie let out a chuckle, “Because I know you my little dragon. I also know my brother, and just between us, he definitely likes you as well.”

At this I let out an incredulous laugh and glanced back to where George was now telling a story, his hands moving animatedly. There was no way that George Weasley had even a remote attraction to me. He was kind, strong, clever, and so bloody gorgeous it truly was a privilege to look at him. And I am…me. Nothing special. Just a girl who had more dragon friends than human ones and whose hands were covered in scars and callouses and whose socks never matched and had never even kissed a man before. So no, there was no way that George Weasley would ever like me.

“Hey. I know that look Y/N. Stop those thoughts right this bloody second.”

“Charles it really is annoying when you read me like that.”

Throwing his arm over my shoulder he began to lead me towards the twins, “Yes I know and I am sorry in advance but this needs to be done. Fred!”

Charlie’s voice had gone from a rushed whisper to a jovial shout when we reached George, Fred, and Ron by the fireplace. George’s smile as he turned to look at us sent a million butterflies off in my tummy.

“So Freddy, I was hoping you could help me out with a top secret project tomorrow for mum and maybe show me around the joke shop. I heard you added some new displays that I want to check out.”

“Sure Charlie”, Fred glanced at George as he spoke, “I’m sure we can make some time for our favorite brother.”

Ignoring Rons protest, Charlie gripped my shoulders and pushed me in front of him, “Actually George I was thinking you could stay here and show Y/N around the area. She mentioned wanting to talk a walk tomorrow and I would hate to disappoint her on her first Christmas out of the sanctuary.”

“Um-”

I interrupted the rejection coming from George, “No please, I would hate to be a bother and make you be stuck with me all day. I’m sure Ginny can take me.”

George smiled and shook his head, “No it’s completely fine Y/N. I would be happy to show you around.”

“Okay great! It’s settled then!”, Charlie looked rather too pleased with himself and obviously missed the look exchanged by his identical younger brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning the Burrow was a flurry of movement as everyone began their day. Apparently Charlie and Fred weren’t the only ones on their way out. The others still had some last minute gift shopping to do and Ron was spending the day with Hermione’s muggle family. After breakfast, a quick wink from Charlie, and a slam of the front door - George and I were alone in the house.

The two of us stood facing one another in the living room for a few awkward moments before George spoke, “Well, um, did you want to head out as well?”

“Oh sure! Yes, let me just grab my boots really quickly.”

George led me out the door and onto the snow covered path towards the small, iced over river. Nothing was said for a while, the only sound was the crunch of snow under our boots and the occasional sniffle from one of our red noses. I was mentally imagining all the ways I was going to kick Charlie’s ass when he got back for suggesting a walk in the middle of winter when we came to the top of a hill and stopped.

Everything as far as the eye could see was blanketed in sheets of white. Stomping my boots down into the fresh snow, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the snow gave way underfoot. Feeling a pair of eyes on me I remembered that I wasn’t alone and turned to see George watching me with an unidentifiable look on his face.

“Sorry, sorry. That was - I don’t know why I did that. I liked the feeling of the crunch of the snow I guess. Sorry.”

George grinned, “You don’t have to apologize. It was cute.”

I could feel my face flush at his words. His smile grew even wider at the sight of my heated face. My gaze dropped from his pretty face down to my boots. I could feel the thick socks I had on beginning to grow cold and wet from how long we’d been outside. Looking back up I could see George’s deep eyes glaze over. Assuming it was because he had been apart from Fred so long I glanced out at the view one last time before turning back the way we came.

“We should probably get back. We’ve been gone a while and my toes are getting wet. I feel bad enough that Charlie forced you to do this anyways without you getting frostbite or something. I’ve had frostbite, it’s not fun. And now I’m rambling. I’m sorry. Sorry”

George was shaking his head at me and said, “You are so weird.”

Ouch. My chest tightened and the small smile I had been wearing dropped from my face. If I had been able to see past the tears forming in my eyes that were making my sight blurry, I would have seen George’s face do the same. Unfortunately, all I could focus on was that word. Weird. Strange. Abnormal. Freak.

Weird weird weird.

The walk back was silent. A thick tension surrounded you both as thick snow flurries began to swirl down in the midmorning air. Just as thick was the lump forming in my throat as I fought back tears. I know I shouldn’t let his words affect me. He’s just some guy. But deep down I also know that he’s not just some guy. This is George fricking Weasley. With his stupid perfect face and gorgeous eyes and his loyalty to his family. I couldn’t help but be enamored with him from the moment I walked in the Weasley’s front door. So it hurt to hear the man I liked call me that nasty word that has haunted me my entire life.

When we finally reached the Burrow, George tried to reach for my arm but I pulled away and ran into the house. I could hear that some of the others had returned and really wanted to avoid a confrontation. Once again, luck wasn’t on my side. Charlie came walking out of the kitchen and saw me in the entryway. His face immediately became concerned at the sight of me and he lowered the sandwich he had from his mouth.

“Draga?”, Charlie’s voice followed me as I finally reached the stairs and launched upstairs.

As I reached the first landing I heard him speak again, his voice rough and hard.

“What did you do?”

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter writing #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x platonic!reader #charlie weasley imagine #hp #harry potter

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sugawara-sweetheart · 3 years

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𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔰 (𝔪)

❥oikawa tōru x fem!reader

❥summary: your new husband, oikawa toru, is the epitome of hell

❥warnings: forced marriage + abusive parents, forced isolation, yandere-ish and controlling behaviour, emotional abuse, dubcon/noncon, ill-prepped sex + blood, sacrilege, breeding kink + babytrapping *if i have missed any please let me know!!!!!

❥word count: 3.2k

your funeral dress is your wedding dress. a white gown that should be black, a bouquet of bright flowers that should be wilted roses, the knife slicing into the cake that should be cutting right through your heart and a forced watery smile and happy tears that should be mourning sobs as you feel every last fighting part of your soul collapse.

you should’ve known it was coming. it’d been your reality for months leading up to it, coming to terms with the darkness enclosing in on you. the first time you saw his face it was a photograph on your mother’s phone, a little smile on her face.

“this is him. isn’t he handsome? you’re a lucky one.” you can’t deny that he isn’t. tall with an athletic build, warm brown eyes and silky hair, skin bronzed from the Argentinian sun. he was supposed to be every girl’s dream- a star volleyball player with a luxurious home, paparazzi and journalists clinging to his every word, sponsorships and photoshoots and a charming character everyone glorifies.

but not you. maybe it was his superficial smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes or the heavy instinctual twinge that settled in you when you stared at his face, but you didn’t like this man. the very sight of him made your stomach turn and as you turned to your parents with pleading eyes, you begged. anyone. anyone else- you didn’t care about money, about their job, about them but as long as it wasn’t this man sending shivers down your spine. but they refused. badly. angry snarls and bitter words burned in your ear, heavy threats and viciousness that you were really left with no choice. the only thing you could do was hold back your stinging tears as you forced yourself to read sports magazines and articles till your teary eyes were sore and bloodshot, trying to pretend that you could love this man. that you could force a lifelong commitment of marriage, be his wife. the woman he’d lie in bed with at night, the one he woke up with, the one he was going to be intimate with but also show to the world. he was the man whose kids you’d be forced to bear, who you’d be bound to for life.

the first time you meet him is on your wedding day. oikawa tōru.

he’s the perfect charm, but in between the ceremony, the speeches and the dance you don’t get to speak to him alone till you’re in the hotel room. your wedding gown is stiff, the corset cinching your waist till it’s painful, the lace sleeves beginning to itch and a thick lump resides in your dry throat as you settle at the end of the bed. how superficial is this glorious honeymoon suite of a luxurious hotel with the baskets of fruit and chocolate, the complementary champagne with the congratulatory greetings card. all fake. all a facade concocted by your parents and oikawa- and how he’s able to smile at you so sweetly as he loosens the tie of his tuxedo, like none of this is wrong, utterly confuses you.

“you must be tired.” his smile is all wrong, even the little crinkle in his eyes, his saccharine voice. it makes your blood run cold and you want nothing more than to curl up in on yourself, to get away from him as much as possible. but you can’t. he’d find you, or your parents would find you and drag you back. there’d be nowhere to go. no escape. “would you like me to help you undress?” he steps forward but stops suddenly when you raise your hands in protest, a look of surprise etching on his face.

“i can undress in the bathroom.” is all you say as you walk across to the hotel suite away from him.

you inhale sharply, locking the bathroom door and pressing yourself against it, wishing there was more than two inches of wood separating you and that man you’re forced to call your husband. shivers run down your spine as you gaze at yourself in the mirror. y/n oikawa. you’re his now. you stare at the unfamiliar figure until tears blur your vision too much and you can’t see yourself anymore.

you stop in the doorway when you return to the main suite, your throat growing dry as you stare at oikawa lying on the bed. he beams at you, eyes sparkling as he takes in your figure and you’re suddenly feeling too exposed in the silk nightdress your mother prepared.

“come on,” he smiles, winking cheekily as he pats the space next to him. “i don’t bite.” your legs shake as you stalk towards the bed, swallowing at its size. you’d never thought that a spacious king-sized bed would be too small, too suffocating when you have oikawa staring at you, a strange gleam in his eye that gives you a harsh sense of unease.

you’re tense when you lay down and oikawa props himself up, smiling as he rakes his eyes over you. it’s horribly scrutinising- it’s like being under a microscope as he picks you apart with just his sugared smile, orbs narrowing and his smile seeming so wry.

“you’re a very beautiful woman.” he finally speaks. it sounds like a lie. so horribly sweet it’s sickly and you have to resist the urge to flinch when he reaches out to twine a stray lock of hair around his finger. “i’m so happy i chose you.” your mouth tastes sour and your body feels icy as he releases your hair, trailing a finger down your throat, along your collarbone. he hooks it under the flimsy strap of your dress and that’s when you can’t control the panicked squeal that escapes you.

“please. n-not tonight.” oikawa looks half surprised, half stunned at the sudden bout of emotion you release.

“fine.” he smiles, but it doesn’t fill you with relief when he releases your strap, grazing his finger back along your collarbones and throat. it lingers too long on your neck, his brown eyes piercing into you and your stomach drops when you realise he’s not looking into your eyes.

you finally realise why you feel so uneasy when he stares at you.

he looks at you like you’re prey.

it’s anxiety-inducing, living with oikawa tōru. even after the honeymoon when you finally return to his home, you’re in a constant state of unease. you don’t seem to be able to sleep well, staring at the dark ceiling for hours with your body tense, even way after oikawa’s breathing falls slow and steady. your appetite has dissipated, your tightly-knotted stomach now churning with nausea and every time you hear that silky, saccharine voice and feel his coarse fingers tracing along your shoulders- his favourite way to make his presence known- you can’t help but start, heart pounding against your rib cage. you’re certain he’s noticed- his eyes are sharp and perceptive- but a part of you wonders whether he enjoys it, whether his wide smile is out of sick entertainment.

but he isn’t a bad husband, which seems to confuse you the most. it’s strange living in a new country with the hot sun beating down on you, unfamiliar language surrounding your ears and no friends or family for company. the only person you have is oikawa, and he knows it. his hand grips yours tight whenever you leave the house, and it only ever is with him. he talks a lot but he never tells you the important things. he doesn’t tell you important words you may need to know like ‘help’ or ‘police’ or ‘phone’ but instead laughs when you ask about them, waving a dismissive hand. he points out the best department store for the finest clothes and makeup but raises an eyebrow when you ask where the closest train station is, amusement glimmering in his eyes.

“and why would you need to know that when i’m here, y/n?” he taps the tip of your nose and a sour taste lingers in your mouth as you hold back the nasty words you want to spit at him. how humiliating.

oikawa becomes all you know. your day is empty spent in a luxurious home, looking beautiful in the pretty yet stiff clothes your husband buys you, painting your face in the makeup he fills your draws with yet you have nothing to do. the maids who clean your home and leave the food in the fridge don’t look at you as they work and the gardener barely gives you a second glance, leaving you feeling invisible with only your alienated thoughts filling your mind. the silence is deafening yet lonesome, that when the front door slams shut and you hear oikawa’s footsteps against the marble hallway floor, you’re rushing to greet him with your cheeks burning.

you’re never happy to see him. no, your life would be a thousand times better if he hadn’t ever been forced into it, but you still run like a dog at a bell whenever he comes home from a long day of training, his tanned skin and brown locks wet with sweat.

“tōru!” you breathe, and hearing his soft voice, his sadistic chuckle, breaks the suffocating silence you’re confined to. maybe he enjoys it. maybe he enjoys seeing your face lighten up with human contact because when he opens his arms and pouts his lips to press a kiss to your forehead you don’t resist.

but he’s not your husband because you want him to be. just when you think you’re okay with him insisting on kissing your cheek or feeding you the fruits he bought home from the market or pulling you into his arms when you’re watching a television show in a language you don’t understand but he knows perfectly, your skin crawls and you remember that you hate him.

your voice cracks on the first phone call home back to your mother. her cheery, almost proud voice rings in your ears, not knowing she was part of the reason why you feel so numb, so broken and so trapped.

“mum, i don’t like it here.” you tell her quietly, playing with the thick telephone cord. “please let me come home. i don’t like him.” she laughs at you, an awkward titter that has tears stinging your eyes. you’re tired.

“give it some time, you just need to adjust. stop being ungrateful.” she scoffs and you can imagine her rolling her eyes, her tone mocking like she’s speaking to a child. “he’s a good man.”

an icy coldness runs over your tensed body when you hear the shuffle in the doorway and you turn to lock eyes with oikawa. his brown orbs look so dark, his brow furrowed slightly and even though a smile stretches across his face, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“ah, y/n-chan,” he beams. “tell your mother i said hi.”

oikawa isn’t quite the same after that day. if it didn’t already feel like a noose was hanging around your throat, it definitely felt tighter, like the life was being squeezed from you. suddenly oikawa is everywhere, weighing down on you but it’s heavy, oppressive, cruel. you can expect your phone to call every hour, the picture of himself he set on your phone flashing up on the screen like clockwork with the same mindless questions. he knows you have nothing to do, no one to speak to, no life except the moment he gets home and infests your space with his existence. but he was sweet before, even if it still made you shudder. now he was nasty.

disapproval is etched on his face as he watches you get ready in the morning, your hand shaking as you apply lipstick when you see his eyes pierce into you in the reflection of the mirror. it makes your heart race, cold sweat dampening your palms as your stomach churns in anticipation from what words would fall from his lips.

“red lipstick makes you look like a whore. i don’t want people thinking my wife is a slut.” he spits. you don’t hesitate to wipe it off.

there’s always more. humiliating you with harsh jokes and only speaking in spanish when you meet his teammates, leaving you alienated as you try to cling to their words, try to laugh along when they sneer and chuckle at you, oikawa’s laugh always ringing the loudest. chastising in a cruel, sneering tone over the simplest of things leaves you anxious and wary, hands trembling whenever you intend to do just the slightest, most natural of things because you’re aware of his heavy gaze piercing into you, scrutinising you for faults, leaving you scared almost for whatever harsh words will be spat from his lips this time. your comfort was little before, being forced into being the wife of a stranger you didn’t want in your life, but now all of that had been diminished. you aren’t just unfortunate now. you’re trapped.

“i bet you feel so lonely here.” his words cut through the silence one day, eyes fluttering open and locking onto yours. and with his head in your lap, your fingers forced to run through his hair like a puppet doll, you can’t look away, you can’t ignore him or the smirk tugging at his lips. “having no friends, no family, no one except me.” he chuckles but you’re not sure what’s the funny bit. “your parents don’t call much do they? and your friends forgot about you when you left japan?” he shakes his head a little, eyes sparkling with cold amusement. “you really don’t have anyone to care about you except me, right?”

your throat tightens as his words ring in your mind and you realise he’s right. it doesn’t matter if you hate him, if you feel sick and trapped and hopeless when looking at him and his cruel smile, you really do have no one but him. there’s nothing to do but be his.

the scent of vanilla hangs heavy in the bedroom, orange candlelight illuminating but it’s anything but romantic or peaceful when you’re pinned onto the mattress. oikawa’s legs are on either side of your body, trapping you in with his hands pressed against your shoulders. it hurts, his nails pierce into your skin and your throat is tight, barely being able to breathe in the warm, thick, perfumed air that lingers.

“i’ve waited long enough.” he groans, slowly rocking his hips against you. your silk nightdress is bunched at your waist, your fingers gripping the cloth as his stiff, hard cock glides against your folds. you can’t deny that you’re getting wetter, each brush along your cunt building sensitivity as you shudder. oikawa looks drunk, his eyes growing heavy-lidded and cheeks flushing with a pink glow, a brief smile tugging at his lips between breathy sighs. “you’re my wife. this is right.” it stings when he pinches your chin and traces his fingers on the soft skin of your face before his lips meet yours.

it’s the first time you’ve kissed him. his lips are too much and you cringe at the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours, forcing itself between your lips and invading your mouth. you mewl, but it’s laced with discomfort as your back arches off the bed, but you have nowhere to go with oikawa weighing you down. “my sweet wife.” he purrs, resting his wet lips agsinst yours and curling his fingers around your throat.

“tōru,” you hiss when his cockhead meets your entrance, your sweating hands gripping the cloth of your nightdress tighter, heart thumping against your ribcage. “w-wait-”

“be a good wife to me, y/n-can.” it sounds sweet, like a gentle plead but his fingers tightening around your throat and the cockhead almost nudging into your hole gives you no choice. “God of creation, in the beginning, You told adam and eve to be fruitful and to multiply and to have dominion over the animals here on earth.” a shaky cry falls from your lips as he slowly slides the weeping head of his cock into your tight hole. it burns, the stretch stinging even with the first couple of inches and your walls clamp tight, a distressed groan escaping. his hand releases your throat, the skin pulsating and bruised, to travel down to your chest, pinching your nipples sharply through the thin fabric, making you wince. “father, i pray that in our marriage we continue to be fruitful and multiply.” his words ring in your ears, sounding so distant like your head has been plunged underwater. it burns, his cock forcing itself into your cunt and ripping through the flesh as deep groans fall from his lips. “let us do this physically with children who are blessings that come from You.” his fingers pinch your nipples harder, pain rushing through you. your throat tightens. the tears are hot streaming down your face. “let us also do this spiritually by birthing ministries that You have called us to birth and by making disciples that You have selected.” his moans are heavy gasps, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he sheaths the last few inches of his throbbing length into your tight pussy, his chest pressed against yours and his breath hot and heavy as it ghosts your lips. “a-amen.” orange candlelight orbs and his brown eyes glimmer through your tears as he grips your face, tugging it to face him as your cunt aches with the searing pain. “say it, sweet girl.”

“a-amen.” his lips press against yours, swallowing the weeps that fall from your lips as he starts to rock his hips into you.

the pain never fully dissipates. scarlet bleeds out onto the pristine bedsheets, dyed in the candlelight. his shadow flickers on the walls as he fucks into you, chanting your name with deep groans and heavy-lidded eyes rolling to the back of his head, harsh fingertips pinching and swirling your clit. your bloodied, torn walls cling tight to his cock, your own moans muffled as you bite your trembling bottom lip, trying to bury your face into the pillow as he pounds into you but there’s no evading his hungry kisses or the bites he traces down your throat.

“cum for me.” he coos and you shudder as his tongue darts out to lick up the silvery tears that roll down your cheeks. “cum for me right now.”

beaten down into submission. his wife. your orgasm is forced from you, bloodied slick drooling from your pussy as he swallows your moans, his hips snapping against yours faster and groaning as your walls clench around him.

“i’ll give you my cum.” he murmurs against your hot, bruised skin. “i’ll fill up your pussy with my cum, make you nice and swollen with my child. then you’ll always be mine.”

you cry out when his cum floods your pussy, so deep and warm and sticky, filling you up entirely as you whine. your hands tremble as you lift your dress, horrified to see the pink globules dribbling down your thighs when he pulls out.

you’re frozen when he lies beside you, wrapping his arms around your shaking body and pressing tender kisses to your shoulder. “you’re such a sweet wife to me.” he murmurs. “i’ll never let you go.”

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

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She’s Mine (Protective!Bakugou x Punk!Tattooed!Reader) feat. Erasermic

Warnings: racism, implied homophobia (not by anyone in the main cast), sexism, discrimination/discriminatory behavior, Modern!AU, Aged-Up!AU, features Bakugou’s parents, Erasermic, Kota, Eri, Mahoro, Katsuma and all of Class A defending you when insults start to fly.

Synopsis: This is not the first time you’re seeing Bakugou’s family but it is the first time you’re meeting his grandmother, who is not the best company to be around. He comes to your defense after you stand up for yourself and he had no qualms about sticking his face in the old hag’s because he’d be damned if he lets anyone talk to you like that. You’re his.

Words: 3.2k

“Y/N’s here!!!” Mitsuki called over her shoulder as she threw the front door wide open before you could even ring the doorbell.

Her son had texted her that you two were on their way and she was eager to see you. With the job and your relationship with her son, you two were busy bees and didn’t come around as often anymore.

Which is why she insisted that her stubborn son at least come around for his birthday since it only happened one day out of the year. Then he could continue doing whatever it was that he was doing.

Luckily, you were on her side and helped convince him to go just this once.

You laughed at the pitter-patter of tiny feet scampering across the cherry hardwood before dropping everything to catch the little kid that tunneled into your legs.

“Y/N!!! You’re back!!!”

Eri’s ruby red eyes sparkled with joy as she clung to your legs.

“I missed you!!!” She shouted excitedly, hugging your knees tight.

You giggled, resting a hand on top of her head. “I missed you too, munchkin.”

Bakugou snorted behind you and you were reminded of his presence. “Oi, brat. Are you going to let us in or what?”

Eri stuck her tongue out at him childishly before dashing back inside, a trick she learned from her big brother Izuku, doubling back to grab your hand and hauled you inside with her. You casted a glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend but he shrugged, giving you the go-ahead.

He would catch up to you two troublemakers later. Besides, he knew you would want to see all the kids first.

Kota, an orphan whose extended family gave him up for adoption, along with the siblings, Mahoro and Katsuma, were all under Aizawa’s guardianship.

After he adopted Eri, it sort of just snowballed until he was in too deep. He told Mic repeatedly that it wasn’t his fault that he had a soft spot for orphans.

His husband had merely shook his head with a laugh and hoisted Katsuma up higher so that he could reach the cupcakes they were going to sneak behind his back before dinner.

Mitsuki closed the door behind him as her son kicked off his shoes.

“She gets that from me.” She said proudly as she gazed lovingly at Eri. She loved having her around the house.

Since Aizawa and Mic lived relatively close, they came over often since she was feeling rather lonely with an empty nest.

Bakugou snorted. “Yeah, no shit.”

His mother glared at him for his language but didn’t reprimand him like she normally would and his eyes turned into hateful slits.

“Don’t tell me—” He started, gritting his teeth.

“They’re here.” She said with a heavy sigh.

Bakugou cursed vehemently under his breath, his brow furrowing deeply as he fought to control himself. He was banking on them not making an appearance today.

His grandparents on his dad’s side, though he adored his grandad and thought the world of him, he absolutely could not stand his grandmother.

She was racist, sexist, had limited views on literally everything and would raise hell if she didn’t get her way and she was a huge pain in his ass.

Even his own mother couldn’t stand her and that was saying something because she tolerated everyone to some degree, despite her odd love language when it came to him.

They were both shit at communicating but it had gotten better as he got older.

Now, the worst things that happened were spats here and there when they disagreed but his mother was usually good about backing off if she felt he could make the right decision for himself, which wasn’t often but it was better than none.

Bakugou strolled inside and his eyes softened for a second when he saw you playing with Mahoro, Kota sitting on your lap as Eri was climbing all over Midoriya. You four were currently playing Monopoly and Eri exclaiming in shock as she realized she was losing since the devious Kota was slowly claiming more and more property.

“Haha!!” He cackled, rubbing his hands together evilly. “You landed on the purple one!!”

“No fair!!” Eri protested. “I don’t have enough money!!!”

“Too bad!!”

“Deku-niichan.” Eri cried, her eyes watering and you nearly fell over laughing as he frantically tried to get her to stop crying.

The rest of his old class from college was already here, as per his mother’s request and Kirishima’s invitation.

Shinsou, Tsuyu, Todoroki and Iida were all near the food, the previous class rep serving drinks even though it wasn’t his job to play host.

Tokoyami was currently engaged in a conversation with his dad and as Bakugou spun around the room, he realized every last one of his old classmates had shown up.

It was fucking crowded in his house.

But the spark of joy he felt diminished the instant he saw his grandmother and he scowled, straying to your side almost protectively as her eyes burned into his back.

This.

This was why he didn’t fucking want her here. He didn’t want her to rain judgement upon the person who had won over his heart.

No way in hell.

Look, you weren’t fragile by any means. Your heart was filled with a healthy amount of self-esteem and you had built up your walls to protect yourself against people who had something to say about your many tattoos or piercings, yet you still were the kindest soul he had ever met.

It was in the way you walked and interacted with people, a genuine smile always present on your features as you gave them more respect than most would give you upon first glance.

Bakugou knew you could handle yourself but you shouldn’t have to with his own fucking relatives. That shit was messed up.

You glanced at your boyfriend out of the corner of your eye and your gaze dropped down to where his hands were clenched into fists, jaw locked tight and you sigh, softly urging Kota to get up and continue playing with Mahoro and Katsuma until you got back.

The boy grumbled but did as you asked, easily getting swept up in the competition of the game as you drifted to Bakugou’s side.

“I know that look,” You murmured into his ear, your hand covering his as you ignored the idle chatter coming from your friends and family around you. “What’s wrong?”

Bakugou clenched his teeth and debated about it for a second.

“Nothing.” He spat out eventually, choosing to deal with the old hag himself and you let him go when he stomped off, knowing that Kirishima or Kaminari would handle whatever it was that just happened if he didn’t want to talk to you about it.

Momo greeted you warmly and a smile slipped onto your face as though it had never left.

You hadn’t bothered to dress all that nice or different from your usual getup, feeling more comfortable in leather and all black that looked like you just came from a rock concert but you got the feeling that not everyone was feeling it as much as Jirou was when she came over to compliment you on your fashion taste.

Shoji and Koda each greeted you respectively and before you knew it, the catered dinner arrived and it was finally time to eat. The judging look you had been aware of from someone you didn’t recognize passing by as you brushed it off as unimportant and focused on helping Mitsuki set the table.

You clapped your hands gleefully when Eri pitched in to help, complimenting her on how well of a job she did as she finished and you beamed at her when she smiled up at you.

Of course, Aizawa needed to help her since he didn’t want her to stand on a chair and lose her balance but it was easy enough to lift her up. She wasn’t that big yet.

He had already told Mic he was dreading the day when she would grow up and have to leave home to start her own life and his husband patted him on the back sympathetically, reassuring him that it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

They loved their children and their children absolutely adored them.

You had told them as such on more than one occasion since they got insecure that they weren’t adequate parents but you reassured them that they were perfectly imperfect.

They put their kids’ health, safety and happiness before everything else and did everything they could for them.

You wished your own parents had done that for you.

As soon as you set down the place settings for everyone and called everyone in for dinner, they flooded the huge dining table that overflowed into the living area to accommodate everyone.

Bakugou had left for a second to grab something from his old bedroom, promising to be back right away and you reassured him that you would be fine.

You were barely into helping Mic convince a stubborn Kota to take a spoonful of green beans onto his plate, Shinsou helping Aizawa with Mahoro’s vegetable serving, when a throat cleared itself loudly.

The lively chatter died all around the table died down as grey eyes pierced your own and you stiffened but held your ground.

You knew that look, you had seen it too many times.

The older woman opened her mouth and spoke.

“So, you’re my grandson’s girlfriend?” She enunciated, looking you up and down from where she was sitting at the head of the table, her hands setting down her knitting project to glare at you. “I don’t see why he’s dating you.”

The expressions of shock at her vulgar words made several of your friends angry in your defense, Iida and Todoroki trembling in anger and Mina’s eyes narrowed as she dropped her happy-go-lucky personality in favor of ripping her a new one.

But before any of them could act, she was continuing evenly.

“For someone who doesn’t know how to dress properly and looks like that, I mean, it’s already bad enough that your skin is that color, my dear, and you’ve ruined it even further with those ugly things.” She spat, unaware of the wrath she was evoking from every single person in the room.

Kaminari’s electric eyes glowed as he saw red. “Bad enough?”

“Excuse me?” Shoji seethed with unparalleled anger rising up in his chest, a rare sight for the normally calm and collected man.

Jirou, Ochako and Momo were furious at the way she was talking down to you and they shared a look amongst themselves, communicating wordlessly that this wasn’t going to be allowed to get out of hand any longer.

Kirishima was visibly shaking and even the normally shy Koda was fuming in his seat, openly glaring at the elderly woman who spewed insults at you.

A chair scraped back as Midoriya shot up but you shook your head, holding your finger up to your lips as you subtly gestured for everyone to hold back.

Aizawa’s nostrils flared from where he was covering Eri’s ears while several of his former students took care of the rest of the kids to make sure they wouldn’t hear this.

To their horror, the grandmother wasn’t even close to being done as she pointed a gnarly finger at you.

“Your job as a girl is to stay in the kitchen and attend to your husband. To even think you’re worth anything if you weren’t involved with my grandson is absurd.” She hissed at you venously, her skewed ideals rooted deeply in her beliefs and how she was raised. “You are a disgrace to even breathe the same air as someone like me.”

“Mother!!”

Bakugou’s father frantically tried to amend what had been done and Mitsuki was about to yell at her but you stopped her.

Everyone’s eyes turned on you as you took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I won’t apologize for being who I am.” You said quietly but firmly, failing to notice someone coming down the stairs and overhearing your steady words as they flowed from your lips like honey.

Not tricks. Just genuine sympathy, like you didn’t even hear her say all those horrible things to you.

It was supposed to be your boyfriend’s day and you weren’t going to ruin it for him in the same manner that she had just done.

“I understand what you’re saying, but don’t you think that we should be allowed to love who we love?”

You inclined your head slightly, allowing a sliver of the emotion you felt to slip onto your face as you glanced pointedly as Aizawa and Mic.

After you noticed her staring so openly at you, you also noticed that she would scowl whenever the two men would walk in the room and play with their kids and while you would take whatever she was going to throw at you, you weren’t going to tolerate the same for them.

They didn’t deserve that.

Holding up your arm, you inspected the ink running up and down the length of it. “As for my appearance, my style is my own. I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

There were a couple of snickers from Jirou, Kaminari, Sero and Mineta as you put her in his place and Todoroki leaned back in his seat, gazing up at you proudly as you stood your ground without firing any hate back at the old woman.

Hagakure clapped her hands jubilantly as a few cheers of agreement sounded around from the table but you had one more thing to say.

Your eyes softened. “I understand how you may feel about me, but I don’t need your acceptance. I love myself just as I am and if Katsuki ever feels differently about me and we split, then we’ll split. But please do not judge my love for him based on how you believe I should be. I am who I am and I won’t ever apologize for that.”

“And you never fucking have to.”

Bakugou strolled into the dining area, smirking at the old hag who had the nerve to look shocked at his appearance. Of course she would be so fucking disgusting to say something this horrible to you when he wasn’t within earshot.

Bitch.

Blood relations didn’t excuse behavior.

Narrowing his vermilion eyes at his grandmother, he faced her head on as he took your hand into his.

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.” He declared, tenacity and stubbornness dripping off of his tone as he snarled at his grandmother. “And if you ever speak to her like that again—”

He nodded in time to Mic and Aizawa, the men who had mentored him and taught him almost everything he knew.

“Or either of them, including the rest of these shitheads, I’ll fucking kill you.”

The veiled threat hung in the air and you squeaked as Bakugou abruptly dragged you to the front door.

“Where are you going?!” Mitsuki cried out, worried that you both were going to leave without eating anything and she was sad to think that her mother-in-law had driven you away.

Bakugou gnashed his teeth at the confused clamour that arose from his classmates. “Out!! We’ll be back later!!”

You could hardly get a word in edgewise as he dragged you all the way out to the car after barely giving you enough time to put on your shoes.

“Katsuki!! What—”

Your bewildered protests were interrupted as he whirled around and kissed you hard. You melted into his touch as his hot palms settled on your hips, pulling you flush against him. Whining softly when he pulled away, you panted as he breathed hard against you, his exhales fanning out over your face.

You were in a daze as he led you to the car, buckling you in before he got in the driver’s seat.

And he drove, taking a detour that would take him towards the countryside where there were no people, no places, just you and him.

Just how he liked it.

The painted lavenders and pale pinks of the setting sun faded to midnight black with stars twinkling high above you as you cruised around for hours before he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized quietly and you immediately grabbed his hand that wasn’t currently occupied with steering.

“No!! You don’t have anything to apologize for—”

“Yes I do.”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel a fraction as he slowly explained that if he had told you earlier about what she was capable of instead of ranting to his best friend like an idiot, maybe he could’ve—

“Katuski.”

Your soft murmur brought him back down to planet Earth and you shook your head firmly.

“It’s not your fault.” You told him without wavering once as he brought the car to a stop just at the edge of the trail. “I don’t blame you at all.”

Bakugou slammed his hand against the steering wheel angrily. “Yes it fucking is!!!”

He ranted and he ranted about how he had come downstairs only to hear his own flesh and blood spitting those vile insults that you didn’t deserve at all.

You didn’t deserve it at all.

You were quiet when he finished and when his chest was heaving with the spent rage he had aired out, you asked, “Feel better?”

“Like hell I do!!!” He snapped at you, about to go off again when he noticed the bemused expression on your face. “What the fuck, dumbass?”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Huh?”

“Why the hell aren’t you bothered at all?” He questioned, genuinely flabbergasted.

Eyes clearing in understanding, you traced the back of his hand with your fingers. “Because it doesn’t bother me.”

At the sight of Bakugou opening his mouth, you hurried out, “I mean, do you really think someone like that gets to cut me down? Her words don’t mean anything to me.”

You hesitated and opened yourself a little bit, trusting him not to take advantage of your weakness because while her words stung in the moment, it was nothing your heart couldn’t come back from. But…

“If you were to say them, it would hurt a lot more, but I don’t think you would— eep!!”

You yelped as he dragged you over to his seat, yanking at the seatbelt that got in the way, but pulled you to his chest once he released the safety clip.

“Never.” He breathed against your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I would fucking never.”

You closed your eyes. “I know.”

There, in his car, you two stayed in a tight embrace under the stars until you it got late enough that you insisted you should go back and at least spend the rest of the time with your friends, which, if their sleeping schedules hadn’t changed since college, there was a good chance almost all of them would still be up.

So Bakugou drove you both back, his heart a little more at ease after he got to hold you close and be alone with you.

That was all he wanted.

Well… He thought to himself as he unconsciously brushed his left hand over the small velvet box that had been hastily stuffed in his pocket the second he grabbed it from his room.

That and one other thing.

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robinofgothamcity · 3 years

Text

♡ prompt: "you accidentally get sent into the future and see how you both turn out.”

♡ pairing: dick grayson (anyverse / nightwing) x fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “I said that’s life and as funny as it may seem, some people get their kicks stomping on a dream but I don’t let it get me down cause this fine old world keeps spinning around.”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / again like what I said with my Jason fic, you don’t necessarily use the TITANS universe to imagine this fic. i just used this version of dick for no reason.

“god, this is the last time I do any kind of work with ANY OF YOU!” you yelled at Dick as he bit on his inner cheek. all of you had been fighting off a bunch of crooks and at first, you thought it was okay.....that was until one of the crooks pulled out his hidden magical abilities, “at the very least, we could’ve called Klarion for help!”

Damian gave you a look as if what you were saying was stupid, “I’M JUST SAYING! WE’RE ALL FUCKING HUMAN AND ZATANNA ISN’T EVEN IN THE COUNTRY TO HELP!” you yelled back.

Dick was trying to remain calm as he hadn’t seen one of the criminals approaching him. he was too busy charging one that was heading towards you. you; however, had saw them out of the corner of you eye and practically sped to Dick which is what the criminal wanted.

he wanted you and Dick out of the way in order to get Damian trapped. as you and Dick had passed each other with the notion to save each other, the crook pulled out a gadget that opened up a portal.

“NIGHTWING!” “( YOUR HERO NAME )!”

the two of you went to grab each other but it was too late. you and Dick had gotten sucked into the portal as you let out a piercing yell. Dick tried grabbing you, hoping that wherever the two of you landed, he would get the hardest impact.

soon enough, both you and Nightwing collided with the ground. you instantly shot up, preparing to fight whoever was around. Dick had took in the surrounding and whispered that the two of you were safe.

“where the hell are we?” you asked, trying not to panic, “we need to find another portal back. Damian is on his own!” you fidgeted with your fingers as Dick waved you off.

“if anything, Damian might be more in his element,” he whispered, “you forget how Damian grew up. I think he’ll be fine. he probably already called Bruce or one of the boys.” you tried to figure out how the hell Dick was so calm about the situation.

Dick took off his mask as you followed along, “I think are biggest issue might be trying to figure out what year he took us too. I can’t imagine he took us in the past so we might just be in the future,” Dick explained.

both of you walked down the hill that you had landed on and saw you were in Bludhaven, “I think we’re in your home territory,” you murmured. Dick sighed in relief. he was more relieved that both of you landed in his hometown because had you landed in Gotham, he felt like that would’ve landed you in more trouble with the Bat, “I didn’t think Bludhaven was this ran down,” you told Dick.

“hey!” he exclaimed, “it isn’t as bad as it looks!” you giggled trying not to catch attention from anyone. the two of you made it down the hill when the realization hit you. Bludhaven had snow falling all over the town and you nor Dick were even mildly dressed in clothes to handle the cold.

“do you have clothes in your apartment? it’s freezing out here!” you exclaimed. Dick gave you the side eye, “I do but if we landed in the future, my future self might be there. we can run into a store and get clothes there.”

“and do you have cash? bc if you’re carrying a debit card, that would be really weird to see a transaction from the future,” you replied. Dick took out his wallet and pulled out a crisp 100, “I stand defeated,” you murmured. Dick rolled his eyes as the two of you saw a department store at the corner of the street.

before you could pull in, you heard someone scream you hero name, “hey! those are sick cosplays!” they said running up to you. you gave him a confused look before realizing, you had to pretend that you weren’t actually yourself, “thanks! it took a lot of work,” you tried to say.

“I bet. it looks super realistic too! ever since she stopped fighting, it’s been super weird not seeing ( your hero name ) around.” you stood confused, wondering what he meant by that, “oh! you’re supposed to be Nightwing! that’s awesome! do you think I can get a picture!” he asked.

you looked to Dick who just shrugged and agreed. the two of you smiled for the photo as he scanned it, “thanks! I swear, you look exactly like her too! but clearly that can’t be right since the actual ( your hero name ) is pregnant allegedly!” he said as he turned around to leave.

“pregnant?” you yelled, holding onto Dick who was laughing hysterically, “it’s not fucking funny! I’m pregnant in whatever year this is!” you yelled. Dick could see the panic in your eyes, “he never said it was actually true. he said it was alleged that you were,” Dick tried to emphasize.

you walked into the department store, which ended up being a Target, and ran to the women’s section, wanting to get out of your hero costume as soon as possible. once you and Dick grabbed the clothes, he quickly paid for it before the two of you darted to the bathrooms to get dressed.

you managed to come out faster than Dick as you held onto your costume by hand. with curiosity plaguing your mind, you saw a magazine and looked at the date.

December 22, 2024.

you sighed in relief. the two of you had only gone three years into the future which was a good thing....right?

“we’re three years into the future,” you told Dick. he nodded as you walked outside, “we can check if future you is actually home and if he’s not, you making some portal to get us back home!” you threatened.

“at this rate, I would’ve preferred if Damian would’ve been the one to come along,” Dick retorted. you pushed him to street, making him stumble over his feet, “say some snark shit again and see where that gets you,” you told him, “plus, you think I want to get stuck in the future with you? I would have preferred Jason if we’re going to be honest. at least he would’ve been more entertaining to be around.”

Dick remained quiet, not knowing how to respond.

the two of you had a weird relationship with each other. at times, the two of you got along, to the point where some thought the two of you were together while other times, you practically hated his guts. no one knew why the relationship was this way but his heart felt a pang as you confessed that you would have rather been here with Jason than him.

“way to kill a mood,” Dick said. you rolled your eyes, “you literally just said you’d rather be with Damian! don’t blame me for this shit. plus, if it wasn’t Damian, I’m sure you would wanted Starfire next,” you added on.

Dick looked at you stunned, “what makes you say that?” he asked. you rolled your eyes, “please, it’s not hard to tell that you and Star have a thing for each other,” you said, this time more quietly than before. Dick didn’t know how to respond but quickly for him, he didn’t have to. the two of you had arrived to where lived or at least hope he still lived there.

the house wasn’t big, not in the slightest; however, it was big enough for him on his own. the two of you looked inside of the window and saw that someone was facing their back towards it.

“whose that?” you asked Dick. he shrugged, half of him annoyed at you and the other half not knowing who it actually was. the two of you remained looking at the person, hoping they turned around so you could get a look, “it looks like you if I’m going to be honest,” Dick replied.

you sighed, “I don’t think it is but sure,” your statement was quickly taken back as the person finally turned around. it was in fact you...fully pregnant and opening up the window. you let out a piercing scream as Dick quickly covered your mouth, trying not to get caught.

“can you shut the hell up?” he whisper screamed, “you’re going to get us caught!” he continued. you took his hand off your mouth, “do that shit again and you’ll be dead before you can even see your future self,” you threatened, “plus! that’s me! pregnant as fuck!”

Dick tried not to laugh at your last statement but couldn’t, “if you’re pregnant, I wonder whose kid it is and why the hell you’re even at my place,” he wondered, “it’s probably yours,” you joked, making the both of you laugh quietly.

you remained looking through the window, watching as you stood up and got different things from a box. you were whispered things you couldn’t exactly heart but one thing you did notice was the huge ring on your left finger.

you whipped your head to look at Dick as his eyes widened. his future self had walked into the living room, giving you a peck on the cheek before bending down and kissing your stomach, “hey bubba! treating your creator well?” he asked.

both you and Dick looked at each other speechless as you put two and two together. you were pregnant....with Dick’s child, “you better because your mom might kill me if you’re giving her a hard time,” he joked before placing a kiss on your lips, “we should eat before John gets hungry and your dad thinks we ditched out on the plans,” you mentioned.

“John?” you whispered to yourself, wondering why the hell you named your future kid John, “John was my fathers name, you know, before he passed,” Dick confessed. your eyes widened, “oh, is it?” you murmured back, not knowing what to say.

the two of you walked closer the door as you noticed your belly again. it was bigger than you realized as Dick had to help you down the stairs. you watched yourself get into Dick’s are as you were struggling to put the belt around you. eventually, Dick drove away and left the two of you alone again.

the air was thick with silence as you had no idea what to say, “parents huh?” Dick asked with a chuckle of nervousness, “yup....and you’re the dad,” you added on. Dick nodded as you sat on the curb with your hands on your knees, “and you’re the mom,” he replied.

you let out a laugh of disbelief as you couldn’t make up anything to say, “crazy right? I think we’re married too,” you finally looked at Dick as he stared at you, almost lovingly, “is there an issue with that?” he asked as seriously as possible. you shook your head no, “nope. just weird that we were the ones that ended up married and having kids together,” you said.

Dick slowly grabbed your hand and held it softly.

“I mean it could be weirder...it could have been Jason or Tim,” he said out loud. you shrugged, “I mean, that would have weird too,” you played with Dick’s fingers and bit your lip, “I guess we should try and find our way back? we wouldn’t want to change the future,” you gave Dick a hopeful look.

he nodded as he helped you up but without hesitation, he pulled you in for a searing kiss, “I’ve been meaning to do that for a while now,” he whispered as he put his hand on your cheek and caressed it softly with his thumb.

a few seconds later, both of you saw a portal opening with Damian screeching from the other side of it, “COME ON YOU BUNCH OF IDIOTS!” he yelled dramatically. you laughed, looking to Dick, “you heard the boy, let’s get the future started,” Dick nodded grabbing your hand and stepping into the portal.

#DC imagines #DC comics #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing #nightwing imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #comics

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

Text

illicit affairs

Mob!seb x nanny!reader

Run-through: You work for the city’s most feared and respected mob boss, Sebastian. Sure, he has a bad reputation on the news, and most people would stay as far away from him as possible, but not you. Because to you, he’s just the single dad whose toddlers you watch Monday through Friday. You admire the man, but he holds a secret close to his heart – despite knowing you are in a relationship, he can’t help but fall hopelessly in love with you...

Themes: mob!seb, smut, angst, mentions of infidelity, fluff

Sebastian came home late, again.

Work had been stressful lately, but the sight of his home made him feel much, much better. Inside the mansion, he knew his two boys would be asleep by now, after causing a ruckus all day. Tucked into bed by you.

As he stepped inside his home, he had a smile on his face just at the thought of you. Y/N…

He had appointed you to be his kids’ nanny about a year ago. And he knew it was wrong, but for the past year or so there wasn’t day where he hadn’t wished that you were his girl instead. He knew you were in a relationship with a boyfriend of yours. And yet, each time he saw your face – which was almost each morning and evening during the week – he couldn’t help but tell himself that he would treat you so much better.

Maybe it was your warmth, or your gentleness. Or how you could take control of the situation whenever the boys acted up. He had always liked you, since the very first day. But the day he knew his feelings for you were so much more firm and real than just a crush happened a few months ago;

The eldest of the twins, Stefan, had a pretty serious allergic reaction to something he ate. It was Sebastian’s fault. But despite it being a weekend, when the boy was rushed to the hospital, Sebastian called you; panicking and scared and worried sick.

You didn’t think twice before driving to the hospital as well. You had grown to adore his boys, they were so precious. And hearing that one of them was sick, you panicked as well. You also rushed because you knew Sebastian would be alone and you had grown to care about him as well. There, as soon as he saw you down the hallway, Sebastian didn’t think twice before rushing to hug you. It did take you by surprise, his sudden display of affection but you comforted the worried father nonetheless.

It surprised him as well, that he relied on you for emotional support. But he had been lonely his whole life, and he didn’t know what to do. You were the closest thing he had to a friend or family, so he held on to you. Something changed that day, for the two of you.

Since that day, his feelings for you solidified. And despite it being wrong, he couldn’t help it. He wanted you. Craved you more than he had anything before. But you were taken.

Sebastian stepped into the large, open living room and found you gathering his kids’ toys into a huge basket. You were knelt on the carpet flooring and you had a faint smile on your face as you put away the chaos caused by the 4-year old little monsters.

He lingered around and admired you from afar. Your hair was down today, red lipstick like always. You wore a little, black summer dress. You looked breathtaking. So close, but he couldn’t just reach out and touch you because you belonged to someone else.

How he wished you were his and he could just have you in his arms and kiss you and tell you about his day after he asked you about yours. Sebastian scoffed quietly at the thought of the boyfriend you had. Lucky bastard, whoever he was.

He cleared his throat and that caught your attention. “You’re back,” you said softly and smiled at him. You rose to your feet. “I just put them to bed.”

Sebastian smiled and nodded. Then pointed at the pile of mess around your feet. “I’m sorry they make such a mess all the time.”

You smiled and shook your head. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” You replied and Sebastian smiled bigger.

“Well, once you’re done handling it, could you come up and meet me in the library? There’s something we need to discuss before you leave.”

You smiled and nodded. “Sure, Mr. Stan.”

He sighed as he turned around to leave. “For the hundredth time, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” He said playfully and left the room.

You smiled and watched him leave. He was so easy to be around. And talk to. And you would be lying if you said you didn’t find the man charming and attractive with his bad boy charm around all the time. He was the kind of man who dominated whatever room he entered. Handsome, dangerous and electric – he had quite the reputation for being bad.

But you were one amongst the few people who knew that Sebastian also had a heart of gold. He was good to his kids, better than most parents were. He was attentive and dedicated his entire weekends to his boys. He made his kids his priority. And they loved him, he was their superhero.

You talked to him each day, usually after the kids went to bed, which is around the same time he comes home. You filled him in on the day, told him about all the mischief the boys were up to and showed him all the work they did with their teacher who came by each day. Sebastian preferred his kids to be privately tutored from home, instead of risking sending them to school. And he was more than able to afford an expensive education for them, he practically owned a huge chunk of the city itself.

He was quite hard to read though. In the beginning, you used to think he didn’t like you, given how little he talked to you. But over time, he opened up just a little more. You didn’t know much about him in the beginning, other than the fact that he was a mob. But the more time you spent in his house, the more you heard the housekeepers talk about him.

So far you gathered that the reason he was a single dad is because he had a temporary fling with a woman he didn’t know too well, but then she got pregnant but decided she couldn’t take up the responsibility of being a mother so when the babies were born, she handed them over to Sebastian and took off. No one’s heard of her since. And the reason why Sebastian doesn’t date or marry is because he’s very protective of his kids and can’t just let anyone in his life anymore. Besides, dating such a powerful man couldn’t possibly be just anyone’s cup of tea. Being in a relationship with him would be thrilling, risqué – almost illicit given his reputation. So you thought.

You admired many things about him, but mainly how he made his family and their happiness his priority.

After you tidied up the toys, you took the stairs up and walked over to the grand library/study room Sebastian had in his house. He didn’t read much, but he did tell you that you were more than welcomed to use it whenever you wanted. So you did spend a lot of time here actually, when the kids napped during the day or when they were taking lessons from their teacher.

You knocked on the door, and he asked you to come in. You smiled at him as you entered, he sat at his large, mahogany desk with a glass of wine in his hand. He had changed out of his dark suit, now in a cream colored sweater. He still looked better than ever. You wouldn’t lie, you did have an innocent crush on the man. How could you not?

“Have a seat.” He said warmly, pointing at the chair right across him. “Wine?”

You shook your head. “No, thank you.” he kept his eyes on you as he took a sip out of his glass. And it was situations like these with him that made it hard to breathe for you. Why did he have to be so handsome? Focus, Y/N. “You said you wanted to discuss something.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I… uh, we’ll get to that in a minute. Tell me about your day.” He listened patiently, with a permanent smile on his face, as you told him all about what the boys did during the day. Truth is, as much as he loved listening about all the things his sons did, he also loved listening to your voice. It calmed him down after his long, and hard days at work.

The conversation flowed back and forth between the two of you almost effortlessly. And he finally got to the point. What he needed to talk to you about was regarding his work. Turns out, his guys are perfectly able to handle fights and guns but they were morons when it came to paperwork. So Sebastian needed someone to handle his paperwork here from home. Somewhat like a PA. And he knew he’d have a hard time trusting someone else, and he knew you were more than capable of doing it. So he decided to ask you instead.

Part of the reason why he asked you may or may not have been because if you did agree to it, you’d be around him a lot more. Given you would be spending much more time at his place.

“Your salary would be doubled the figure it is now. However you would have to sacrifice some more hours of your personal time for me each day. Maybe even sometimes on the weekends.” He paused and watched you intently. “I know it’s a lot to ask for, but things have been rough lately and I can’t trust anyone else.” He explained.

You gave it a proper thought. Doubled the salary? Your current salary was in itself much, much more than most nannies. Also, taking up this job as well would result in you spending more time here, and around the kids – whom you adored more than anything. You couldn’t see the cons of saying yes.

“If it’s alright with you, I would love to take up the job.” You answered, looking down at your lap.

Sebastian smiled. “Think about it, I’m asking for a lot of your time. Will your boyfriend be okay with that?” he asked. It burnt his tongue to even say it out loud. He scoffed under his breath. He hadn’t ever met your boyfriend, only saw him once when he came to pick you up one night. Sebastian never talked to him or anything, but he still hated the guy more than anything.

He watched how your demeanor changed at the mention of your boyfriend. You seemed… sad. What the hell? You kept your eyes on your lap but to Sebastian it seemed like something was wrong. “Are you okay, Y/N?” he asked again, setting his glass down.

You chuckled sadly. “Yes,” you exhaled loudly, “Everything’s alright.” you still didn’t meet his eyes and Sebastian grew worried.

“Look at me,” he used his ‘mob boss voice’ and you had to obey, all while ignoring the unfamiliar chill dancing down your spine which was not unpleasant at all. “Something’s bothering you.” he pointed out in his no nonsense voice. “What is it?”

You shrugged. “I’m fine, Mr. Stan. It’s nothing.” You said. But Sebastian persisted. He shook his head and stared at you attentively right in the eyes.

“You’re not leaving this room until you tell me what’s bothering you.” he sounded authoritative but not pushy. And for some weird reasons, his voice reverberated through you and ended right where it shouldn’t – in between your legs.

You cleared your throat to try to make it seem like his intense stare and the lingering scent of his cologne weren’t making you weak in the knees. You chuckled again nervously out of habit. “I shouldn’t be discussing my personal problems with my employer, Mr. Stan.” You spoke politely, almost playfully.

Sebastian stood up, and walked around the table and sat down on the seat beside you – all while maintaining your stare. “Then let me be a friend.” he inched closer to you, leaning his body forward with his elbows on each one of his knees. “What is it? Tell me.” His voice was quiet, soft but still raw and manly. And if it’s that boyfriend of yours, I will kill him.

You found your voice again. “Uh, well I found out earlier this week that my boyfriend’s been cheating on me for a month now.” you looked up and smiled sadly at Sebastian. “But I just don’t have the courage or the energy to argue and confront and break up, it just… it seems like- I don’t know, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t be telling you all this, I-,”

Yup, definitely killing him.

He cut you off by leaning forward again and taking your hands from your lap and held them in his. His thumb gently stroked the back of your hand mindlessly as he stared at you. Surprisingly, you felt lighter after tell him.

Sebastian was surprised as well. Who in their right mind would treat you like this? He flashed back to earlier this week and you seemed perfectly fine. Maybe you suppressed your emotions and put on a façade for work but it still made him upset that he didn’t see it. He should’ve seen it.

“Hey,” he scooted to the edge of the seat just to be closer to you and a whiff of your perfume hit him right in the nose and he almost closed his eyes to relish it but that would be weird, so he got a grip on himself. “You don’t deserve to be treated like this. You should’ve dumped his ass the minute you found out, Y/N. I mean, why the hell are you still with him?” he sounded a little hyper.

You looked down to where your hands rested in his large, warm ones. “I don’t know. Relationships are complicated. I was scared, and worried. The thought of having to search for someone else, date them and trust them again, it seemed so… tiring.” You chuckled dryly again. “Besides, I doubt anyone would want to take me seriously.”

He noticed the sadness in your voice and he didn’t like it one bit. Not only was that asshole of a boyfriend of yours cheating on you, but he was also making you feel insecure about yourself. And Sebastian couldn’t hold it in anymore. You were so close, he could just lean in and kiss you. But he figured he should confess first.

“Take you seriously?” Sebastian shook his head, as if unable to believe what you were saying. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked, his eyes showing an emotion you couldn’t quite name.

“Sebastian… what?” you were confused. Heart racing at the proximity, your body on fire just because he held your hands, and your emotions were a mess. Just one thing made sense; him.

Sebastian looked down at your hands in his and then looked back up at you. “I can’t be in the same room as you for long. Know why? Because I’m not sure I can contain myself around you. You drive me crazy. You’ve stolen my heart since day one, and then you took over my entire being.”

He paused and let you process it all, then continued. “If you were mine I’d spend every single minute loving you and showing you just how much I need you.” he lowered his eyes again. “I thought I was dead inside, but then you walked into my life and I’ve never felt more alive. I can’t hide it anymore, Y/N, I’m aching to be with you. I need you.”

Your lips parted in surprise. His revelation left you speechless. A man like him wanting you was something you couldn’t wrap your head around. You stood up in surprise, he stood up as well, not letting go of your hand.

“You can leave if you’d like and never come back.” He said. “But I don’t want you to. I need you here with me, please.” He didn’t what he was pleading for. For you to stay? For you to give him a chance?

You thought back to all the times your body tingled or your heart fluttered each time he did something nice or each time he gave you a brief hug before you drove back home. Or how patient he was with the kids and how he was a perfect family man. Did you feel the same way this whole time?

“Sebastian… I- I don’t know what to say to you.” you voiced out your inner thoughts. You were scared that you might say the wrong thing and ruin everything.

He smiled softly at you, stepping closer. “Don’t say anything. Just let me show you.” he let go of your hand and cupped your face. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

You found yourself nodding and inching closer. His hands grabbed your waist as he pressed his body into yours. And his eyes never left yours. He captured your lips in a deep kiss; pouring everything he felt for you into it. You held him close with your hands around his neck. His tongue slipped into your mouth slowly stroking the top of your mouth. He moaned into the kiss and deepened it.

Sebastian moved swiftly, he turned you around and pushed you onto the edge of the desk almost effortlessly. He broke the kiss and pulled away to look at you. Swollen lips and chest heaving, and a hunger in both your eyes.

He didn’t say anything, he leaned in to kiss you again and rested his hands on your thighs. He pushed your legs further apart and settled in between them as he kissed down your neck. His lips latched on the skin around your collar bones. He nibbled, kissed, and licked the skin as you moaned quietly in his ear. His lips slowly moved to the side of your throat, leaving dark red marks behind on your skin. Your hands roamed his muscular back as you pulled him closer. Nothing on your mind but just that you wanted Sebastian; and you wanted him bad.

He slipped his hand under the skirt of your dress, touching your skin with his warm hands as he traced imaginary shapes along your inner thighs; leaving goose bumps where his fingers made contact with your skin. He was close, or so close to your core and he could feel the heat radiating off of it. He moaned shamelessly into your mouth, making your body tremble against his.

“Fuck…” he swore as he pulled away to check if you were just a disheveled and needy as he was. He concluded that you were. “Can I touch you, sweetheart?” he asked, breathing heavily. You nodded quickly. Thinking he would push your underwear aside and finger you, you let out a little gasp of surprise when you felt him drag your underwear down your legs as he himself got on his knees in front of you.

He took off your underwear and threw it aside. Then kissed his way up your legs, leaving kisses along your thighs. His stubble rough against your soft skin. His lips were soft against you as he left marks all over the skin of your inner thighs. His wet mouth moved from your inner thighs to your core abruptly, catching you by surprise. He grabbed your right hip and hooked it over his shoulder; and there you were – completely at his mercy just like he had always fantasized about.

You moaned as his lips moved between your glistening folds, his tongue teasing your entrance, lips sucking on your clit. Your hands cradled his head in between your legs, you threw your head back and moaned as quietly as you could. He moaned against you, sending pleasurable vibrations all over your body. He secured your leg over his shoulder once more and he ate you out passionately, closing his eyes and savoring your taste. He made you forget every worry you ever had in the world.

Being here with him was all you could focus on. Sebastian’s tongue circled your clit lazily as he inserted two fingers into you and pumped them in and out of you rapidly. He felt your walls clench around his fingers and you moaned louder and louder with each stroke of his fingers against your walls. Your body throbbed at his touch, your desire burning.

“Cum for me, come on sweetheart.” He said, in a strained voice and you couldn’t contain the sweet pressure anymore so you let go and as you moaned out loud one last time before coming undone all over his tongue. He lapped up everything you had to offer. He spread your legs further apart as he shamelessly licked each and every drop of your cum as it spilled out of you. Finally, he let go of your legs and stood up again.

You were panting but you still pulled him in for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his lips gave you a rush, so powerful that you began lowering his sweatpants yourself, impatient to just have him in you already. Sebastian pulled away for a second. “You want this, right sweetheart?”

You nodded, unable to talk. And you leaned in for a kiss again. Oh you needed him in you badly and at once. Sebastian aided you in lowering down his pants and pulled you closer. Slowly, he slipped inside of you, groaning at how tight you were. You felt his length stretching you like no one ever did. You gasped and moaned as he filled you in.

He reached down to grab your legs again and wrapped them around his waist. He grunted as he started rocking in and out of you slowly, leaning down to give you a messy kiss. He smiled when you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth. He pulled away and gently pushed your body down on the table. Your back laid flat against the wooden table top and you whined at the feeling of his cock moving swiftly in and out of you. You could feel your walls gripping him and milking him as he pounded into you.

You moaned feeling all of him; stretching you, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you to the point where the only thing you could focus on was the pressure he caused around your lower abdomen.

“Fuck… You’ve been driving me crazy for so long, Y/N.” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. You moaned at his words and upon hearing the wet, slapping sounds your bodies made when they came in contact with one another.

Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrust was relentless and unbearably good. You closed your eyes as you felt your walls clenching around him and the pressure around your lower body felt tight and hot. Sebastian looked down at you as you clenched around his cock.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Cum for me…” he whispered and that was honestly all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him. Whimpering and back arching off his desk, you came hard around his cock.

He panted as he kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. You mumbled his name over and over again as you came, body trembling under his intense gaze. He watched you in awe, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing. Oh he wasn’t done with you yet, he wanted more.

Sebastian managed to get you to the couch, he’d take you on every single furniture he owned if he could honestly. But for now, the couch will do. For now. He had you kneeling on the couch; hips and ass up while your hands gripped the cushions to steady yourself.

You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was there, behind you ready to pounce on you like an animal. His hand reached around and pulled your head back just a little. His lips hovered over the side of your throat as his hand reached around and toyed with your folds; his fingers rubbed around your clit and making you tremble and moan again.

You were a little sore from earlier, and you weren’t sure you would last very long this time. But he was seductively persuasive; he didn’t even have to say anything, just one touch from him was enough to make you burn with desire again. You were willing to just give into him and let him pleasure you.

“I thought that once I had you, I’d be tamed,” His voice was deep and low and gravelly when he whispered in your ear, his tongue licking along your neck while he abruptly stopped toying with your folds. “But now, I just want to be in you again and have you scream my name and cum around me again. And again. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it, sweetheart.”

His hand gripped your hair and tugged on it, harsher than earlier and his action earned a moan out of you. You whimpered, “I want you Sebastian, please.” You murmured, voice laced with need and lust wanting him to completely ruin you, he pulled back from your neck and kissed along your shoulders.

“Oh baby… I want you just as much.” He whispered, kissing your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

He pushed you forward, making your ass stick out against him. He gripped each side of your hips, tightly. He pushed into you without a word said; earning a sinful moan out of you. He groaned and grunted as he filled you up entirely; your ass cheek pressing into his pelvic bone as he pounded into you, desperately trying to make you cum for the second time tonight.

You held on to the pillows tightly, and your mind felt foggy as your felt the familiar pressure forming again in no time. You were barely able to keep yourself up, and if it weren’t for his tight grip on you, you would’ve collapsed on the couch long ago.

He rammed his cock in and out of you incessantly while he fucked you into oblivion. You moaned wantonly, worn-out and still craving more and more of him. He took you higher…and higher and the sounds that came out of his mouth made your walls throb and clench around him each time he filled you up. You liked him here, snug inside you. Thick and pulsating against your walls; stretching you out just like before.

With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls violently. You tightened around him, and he groaned and growled as he came; buried deep within you – grunting swearing under his breath. His warm cum shoot at your walls and you trembled again as he filled you up with his load.

Moments later, you found yourself lying on his damp chest, listening to his heartbeats as he ran a hand down your back, calming you down. You had your arms wrapped around him lazily. The only sound you could hear were his heartbeats and the sound of your breathing.

You didn’t feel an ounce of awkwardness or shame as you laid in the arms of the man you worked for. And neither did he regret doing what he did. It was comfortable, being in each other’s arms. Sebastian spoke up first, breaking the silence.

“So are you going to break up with what’s his name or should I be the one to break the news to him by beating the living shit out of him?” he asked, making you giggle.

His tough and broody nature was one of the major reasons why you found him attractive. Everyone loves a rebel, broody man with bad boy charm. You laughed and lifted your head up from his chest and found him smiling down at you.

“There’s no need. He’s not worth your time. I’ll call him, tonight itself.” You spoke and he reached out to caress your face softly.

“Make that tomorrow morning. You’re sleeping over tonight.” he announced and you chuckled.

“Yeah? Says who?” you teased.

“Your boyfriend, and your boss.” He answered like it was no big deal.

You gasped playfully. “Boyfriend? Oh my! When did we establish that?”

He smirked. “When you were screaming my name while I was deep inside you just a minute ago.” His answer made you blush and hide your face in his chest. He laughed.

“Look who’s shy now!” he teased you and you groaned, trying to hide your face further. “Hey, look at me sweetheart.” he said and you looked up, face burning a little. “Be mine.”

As you looked into his eyes you realized something; that you’ve never felt this peaceful, this comfortable or this warm with your cheating ass boyfriend. But you felt it with Sebastian. You had been in a relationship for quite a few months now, but you’ve never felt any of the emotions you felt in the past hour in that relationship.

Here with Sebastian, you felt a sense of belonging. It resembled that feeling of when you’re on your way home from a party late at night and then finally climb up the stairs which lead you to your front door. It felt like coming home after a long day.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked again, seeing you weren’t saying a word.

You shook your head, a wave of emotions just hitting you right in the face. “Nothing. I like you, a lot. Just… we’re not moving too fast, right?”

He smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been ready for this since the day I met you.” he said again, making you smile. “Stay over tonight, it’s late already. As from tomorrow, we’ll take it at any pace you prefer.” He spoke, surprisingly with how understanding he sounded. “Besides, you’re welcome to use the guest room. But I would prefer you sleep in my bed. Because I mean, now that you’ll be my new PA, and watching with the kids and after I make love you to for hours after I get home every day, you’d most probably be too tired to drive back home. I mean, if it were up to me, I’d move you in with me right now and we c-,”

You cut him off with a kiss. He smiled and kissed you back. He knew he was being a little ridiculous but he had been waiting for you to show him some affection for too long and he was more than happy that he finally had you now. “Let’s take it a little slower than that, okay?”

“Okay. I just… I don’t want to let you go.” He tightened his grip around you, like a kid holding on to his favorite blanket.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled and kissed his chest.

Turns out, being with him was not dangerous or risqué, or illicit at all; it was beautiful.

#mob!seb #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #mob!seb x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fic

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attllhak · 3 years

Text

Adoption AU: Midna

AKA: The one where Twilight got shot.

@tortilla-of-courage @ghostdragonace @sekiumiarashi @anadorablekiwi

Also, mind the tags for this one, since it is the fic where Twi gets shot I did look up the warnings list I gave my best friend when I shared it with them. It shouldn’t be too bad, but better safe than sorry.

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Twilight wasn’t terribly happy about this arrangement. He understood what Keapora was trying to do, he did, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it.

It was a group project for their history class, about the French revolution. Everyone was assigned a historical figure to research, and at the end of two weeks they would need to present an argument on why their figure shouldn’t be executed. The class would vote, and if you lost then a carrot that Keapora’s daughter, Zelda, or Sun as his family called her since they knew so many Zeldas, dressed up to look like the figures would be executed. Twilight’s brother often helped her, and people didn’t usually survive since everyone loved watching Keapora execute carrot nobles with the tiny, functioning guillotine he had.

Twilight was one of the people that was really valuable in group projects because he actually did the work. He was especially sought after because he never made a big deal of it, unless the others did absolutely nothing, and even then he cornered the teacher after class instead of calling anyone out. Dusk, another Zelda, was another of these very valuable group project members. She was a little more vocal about being used, but only because she approached the teacher while class was still in and did so regardless of how little effort was put in. Twilight didn’t know Dusk personally, they didn’t run in the same circles very often, but they got along well enough.

Midna, however, was another story.

Midna was a foreign student, whose parents had immigrated not long after she was born. Her mother’s brother and his family moved with them. Twilight was more familiar with her, but only because they had ended up in the office for fighting once.

Not each other, they had never hit each other. In fact, they had been on the same side. The person they were fighting was Midna’s cousin Zant.

Zant was a grade above them, and a real piece of work. He thought because his family were immigrants that he could claim discrimination any time anyone wasn’t willing to do what he wanted. Plus, if you asked Twilight, he was just a bit loony, and every time he saw the guy he got a worse and worse feeling about him.

They’d met the year before, when Midna and Zant had switched schools. Zant had tried picking on one of Twilight’s little brothers, and Twilight was not having that. Midna had the same thought, apparently, since she was pretty quick to get involved too. Then Zant punched Twilight. Midna punched Zant. One of Zant’s cronies jumped in to defend him. Twilight’s brother Legend saw this going down and decided to lend his fists to the cause when he noticed Twi and Midna were outnumbered. Things devolved from there.

In the end, Zant’s cronies, and Legend, booked it before the teachers got there to break it up. All three of them got dragged into the office and had parents called. Twilight had been miserable until Midna leaned over to compliment him on his form and show him funny videos on her phone. They didn’t talk much, but there was a mutual respect there.

Midna was not like Twilight or Dusk. She was very useful to a group project, but also had a tendency to publicly call out everyone who didn’t help. During the presentation. Twilight had howled the first time she got to the ‘credits’ slide and it was all just her name, and then the other group members listed as ‘standing around looking pretty’. He wasn’t alone.

So he understood what Keapora was doing. By putting all the kids who were invaluable to group projects together it ensured that they wouldn’t get taken advantage of and that they’d all be able to only do their part.

He didn’t have to like it.

It was because he was on the soccer team, he figured. He knew the other sports kids used that as an excuse to get out of projects. And Dusk was on student council and in debate.

That was the only reason he could find that Midna didn’t trust them to do their part. Or maybe she was just jaded. He understood that feeling.

Either way, after the first ‘huddle’ to begin dividing the work where Midna had complained about doing all the work, Dusk pulled Twilight aside and they worked out a plan to get Midna to trust them.

A large part of this plan leveraged the fact Midna already seemed mostly cool with Twilight, so he’d be mostly on the charisma front (which had confused him, since he was far better with animals than he was people), and Dusk would focus more heavily on gathering and sorting research. This, worked less well than Dusk had hoped.

Fortunately, Midna came around the day they got kicked out of the library for getting into a screaming match about a few contradictory facts they dredged up. They left the room still steaming, but Midna was laughing pretty loudly. After that, the three of them got along pretty well.

The project went pretty smoothly after that as well, and they agreed if any more screaming was to happen they’d relocate outside. This worked really well, and soon enough they fell into a system. Dusk even offered them her house to get together after school to work on it. This worked well for Twilight, who had four and a half brothers and counting, and thus didn’t exactly live in a house conducive to group projects. Or any projects.

The three ended up spending a lot of time together working on it, and even managed to get to the point where they were well ahead of the rest of the class. Twilight was even hopeful their carrot might survive (though not so hopeful he thought it would, he knew better than that).

Of course, the universe didn’t seem to think he should be able to take a break. Ignoring that Wild had just gotten another cast off and he’d had to rescue Legend from a few more fist fights, he didn’t think anything big would end up happening. It was just the usual shit where his biggest break was going over to Dusk’s house to work or disappearing on his Epona for a few hours.

But, he wasn’t oblivious. He noticed the warning signs, he just dismissed them.

In hindsight, he shouldn’t have done this.

Zant had always made Twilight uncomfortable. It didn’t help that he seemed to really hate Twilight after the fight they’d gotten into, and made worse by the fact Twilight got along well with Midna. Midna mentioned he was always a little jealous of her for various reasons, and that they’d never been close. So he didn’t think much of it when Zant started acting weirder than usual. He asked when he noticed Midna was getting more fidgety and nervous, but accepted it when she brushed him off. He paid no mind to the fact Zant started skipping school.

He never brushed things off like this again. His therapist said it was paranoia based on trauma, but Dusk agreed with him that it was a reasonable caution. After all, he was the one who got hurt.

They had finished the project early, after spending the entire weekend at Dusk’s place to work on it at Midna’s request. In hindsight, it should have been worrying that Midna was avoiding her home, but no one said anything about it since she just brushed them off.

The three were sitting in the library, sorting through the last few bits of information and the presentation to make sure they had everything. Twilight was sitting closest to the door, which is probably why he was the one who did the stupid thing.

They had been there for maybe ten minutes when an announcement for a lockdown came over the intercom. Lockdown drills had been happening since Twilight’s dad had been in school, after he’d done something really stupid and brave in the face of danger, so no one thought much of it. Mostly, they just moved all the papers and the laptop they were using under the table so they could keep working.

That is, until Twilight noticed how worried the librarians looked.

Suspicious now, Twilight rapped twice on the top of the table and hissed to the girls his concerns. Midna agreed, but looked suddenly really, really pale, and a little scared.

“Midna, are you alright?” Dusk hovered a hand over Midna’s shoulder, and Twilight crouched down next to them to watch as well.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Midna waved them off, but both of them could tell she was lying.

“Midna, do you know what’s going on?” Twilight asked her, glancing back at the librarians every so often.

“No, well, maybe,” she was now wringing her hands in her cloak, chewing on her lip.

“Midna, what’s going on? Is this for real?” Dusk set her hand down and Midna jumped, Dusk retracting her hand as she did.

“Well,” she hesitated, but Twilight offered her a smile and Dusk nodded. “There have been a few, issues, with my cousin. You know, Zant? He uh, he’s not been doing well recently,”

“Not been doing well?” Twilight led, hoping for something more.

“He’s been getting more violent,” Midna admitted quietly. “And, and he’s starting to scare me a little bit,”

Twilight and Dusk shared a look, both coming to the same conclusion.

Before anything more could be said, however, the library door was thrown open, and the librarians screamed and ducked behind the counters. Twilight jerked up to standing, having not slid under the table with the girls.

Sure enough, Zant was standing across the library, panting hard and looking more than a little crazed.

“Call the cops,” Twilight muttered to the girls, frozen where he stood and just waiting for Zant to spot him. “One of you call the police,”

“Link,” Midna hissed at him, probably well aware of what he was planning. “Don’t you even think about it!”

“Just make sure the police are on the way,” Twilight hissed back, ignoring the use of his real name.

“Link!”

“Twilight,”

He ignored both girls when Zant finally spotted him. He knew what people looked like when they were going to shoot. Legend and Wild both learned to shoot for fun a while back and would practice on old milk jugs in the yard. He had more than enough warning before Zant even brought the pistol up to aim.

Twilight took off at him at a dead run, knowing full well he was dead if there was enough distance, ignoring the cursing from the girls.

He shoulder checked Zant hard in the stomach and managed to duck beneath the first shot. Unfortunately, he was very close to the gun and it didn’t have a silencer. He stumbled back and rubbed his ears, trying to dispel the ringing in them. This gave Zant enough time to get back to his feet and regain his breath. Twilight noticed and pushed the ringing to the side and lunged for the gun.

The two tug-of-warred over the weapon for a few beats, Twilight trying to get it away from Zant and Zant trying to get it at an angle so he could shoot Twilight. Twilight kept trying to push the gun pointed down and Zant was desperately pulling on it and trying to shove and hit Twilight.

This went on for several long moments, though Twilight didn’t remember exactly how long. He was way more focussed on the fight than how long it was.

He most certainly remembered his hand slipping and the gun coming up, and the second gunshot was burned in his memory, never to be erased.

The pain didn’t register for a few heartbeats, and shock set in almost immediately. He lost his grip on the gun and stumbled back, eyes wide in shock and horror, mouth open in a silent scream.

Zant stumbled back as well, and both boys seemed frozen. Zant grinned, however, and lifted up the gun again to finish the job.

Twilight had never felt so scared before or after.

And then a loud crack sounded, and standing behind and over Zant’s now crumpled form was Midna, chair held by the legs over her head.

Midna caught sight of Twilight, and dropped the chair, swearing really loudly.

It was at this point Twilight lowered his hands to his stomach, and the hole that now existed there. He didn’t dare look down, instead keeping his eyes on Midna and the look of horror on her face.

“Is, is it bad?” He tried for a joke, but it probably fell flat. It was then that Twilight, a little dizzy, tipped over onto the floor.

He didn’t remember much after that. He remembered Midna screaming his name, his real name, and Dusk dropping into view, phone held up to her ear. He remembered vaguely being moved somewhere else, and then being rolled onto his side and pressure on his back and stomach. He thinks he cried out at that, but his head was already starting to swim a little, and the shock wasn’t helping. His next really clear memory was in the ambulance.

He blinked and groaned, and Dusk popped into view over him.

“Easy, Link,” she reached up and moved some of his hair out of his face, smiling but not able to hide how shaken up she still was. “It’ll be okay, you’re gonna be fine,” she sounded like she was convincing herself.

“Midna?” He asked, then blinked at the muffled sound of his voice.

Dusk held his hand down, chuckling at him. “A mask,” she explained, “to help your breathing. You were gasping. Midna needed to talk to the police, since it was her cousin. She’s going to meet us,”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, she’s okay,” Dusk smiled and rubbed his shoulder. “We’re both okay. You’re the one we’re both worried about,”

Twilight just nodded, and sort of drifted out of focus again. There was a bit of activity when they arrived, but then Twilight was put under and rushed into surgery so he didn’t remember anything that happened afterwards.

He came to a few hours later in a hospital room with stitches in his stomach and back. Dusk had collapsed over his right arm, and Midna leaned on the edge of the bed, careful to avoid the IV in his arm. He couldn’t see any family, so he figured they hadn’t gotten there yet.

Midna looked up after a few beats, and Twilight smiled at her. That had her bolting up.

“Twilight!”

Dusk lifted her head on his other side, her own face breaking into a grin when she saw him too.

“You’re up!”

“Yup, I lived,” he paused. “Actually is my phone here? Can someone take a picture of me to send to my brothers? Wild always does it when he breaks a bone, and I wanna see why he finds it so funny,”

“You’re high on pain meds, aren’t you?” Midna deadpanned at him.

He laughed, until he realized that made his stomach hurt. “Ow,”

“Okay, maybe not,” Midna admitted, then handed him his phone. “What’s your passcode?”

“Midna!” Dusk cried.

“What? He asked!”

Twilight happily opened up his phone, ignoring Dusk.

“Say cheese!” Midna grinned at him, holding up the phone.

Twilight lifted both hands in a peace sign and grinned. Midna took the photo and sent it off into the group chat without another word, even as Dusk made disapproving noises next to them.

Immediately a string of excited and relieved texts started pouring in, and Twilight had to remind himself laughing hurt.

The injury wasn’t bad, he found out. He wasn’t sure how getting shot could be ‘not bad’, but apparently since the bullet went through the damage wasn’t severe. He was expected to be back at full in less than a year, but had to be pulled off the soccer team for the rest of the year, and discouraged from rejoining the next year. That was disappointing, but livable.

About half an hour before his parents arrived, Midna offered to paint his face for him.

This had confused Twilight quite a bit. What did getting paint on his face have to do with what had happened?

Midna explained that for the Twili, her people, facial markings were important parts of identity, and you can earn them for doing certain things or surviving awful events. Twilight argued that he wasn’t Twili, and Midna pointed out she was, and that Zant was as well, and since both of them were involved she got to make the call. At this point Twilight was mostly confused as to how he would have even earned facial markings.

Midna just sputtered. “You got shot! AND you defended me and Dusk from Zant. You fought my cousin for the gun so he wouldn’t shoot anyone else! That, as far as I’m concerned, makes you a hero! And heroes obviously get facial markings. Not to mention I’m pretty damn sure getting shot counts as a ‘pretty damn awful experience’. So yes, you qualify for markings.”

Twilight blinked at that. Well, he couldn’t really argue with that.

So he let Midna paint his face.

When his family, and Midna and Dusk’s parents, arrived Midna was sitting on the bed next to him, a paintbrush in hand and Dusk holding a small pot full of a specific kind of paint Midna had ducked out to get. Twilight had half a diamond shape on his head at this point. The three teenagers all froze to turn to look at the newcomers.

“Hi,” Twilight waved at them.

“What’s going on here?” Time asked, eye roving over the group.

“I’m painting his face,” Midna explained.

“Why?” Time asked, and Midna’s father, who also had an elaborate series of markings on his face, leaned around him.

“Yes, why are you doing that?”

“Because,” Midna explained, “he got shot. And he fought Zant to protect us from him, and as per tradition, that qualifies him for facial markings. So I’m doing them for him,”

“Zant?” Midna’s father asked.

“Yeah, he showed up and tried to shoot up the school,” Midna explained as she went back to applying paint to Twilight’s face. “He busted into the library where we were and Twilight tried to fight him to protect the rest of us. He got shot and I whacked Zant in the head with a chair. Then we huddled off somewhere else to hide until the cops showed up.”

“No, Zant was the shooter?” Her father repeated.

Midna froze and turned around. “Yes. Did you not know?”

Her father shook his head. “They didn’t catch the shooter,”

Midna’s shoulders dropped, and both hylians behind her looked equally horrified.

“What?” Midna asked.

Her father shook his head again. “They didn’t catch him,”

Midna took a deep breath, then shook her head and turned back to Twilight. Her hand was shaking now, so she didn’t go back to painting. Twilight lifted his hand to pat her knee.

“I’m sure they’ll catch him soon,” Malon offered, slipping into the room to take up on the couch against the wall. “He’s pretty easily identified, after all,”

“Right,” Midna nodded, then shook herself once. “Right, it’ll be fine.”

She dipped the brush back into the paint and went about continuing to paint on Twilight’s face.

“What are you doing?” Eyes turned back up to find Zant’s parents in the doorway now, after everyone else wandered into the room to settle down.

“Why is everyone asking me that?” Midna turned to face the ceiling. “I’m painting his face! I can do that! He’s earned the markings, and as the present Twili I can choose to provide them to him, even though he isn’t Twili. Believe me, I’ve considered whether or not this was something I could do, and I can. And besides, I’m already half done,”

“No,” Zant’s mother corrected. “I mean why are you painting his face for assaulting my son?”

“What?!” Midna whipped around, fury on her face.

Zant’s mother nodded. “He attacked Zant, and you rewarding him for it is a betrayal to this family,”

“Zant brought a gun to our school!” Midna burst, apparently pissed off and finally snapping after the stress of the day. “He tried to shoot me, he DID shoot Twilight! Twilight saved our lives by attacking him, and he got injured for it! He more than deserves these markings, and Zant should be in jail!”

Zant’s mother stuttered, then drew herself up. “That boy is a danger to everyone around him,”

“Yes,” Midna agreed and pointedly added a line under Twilight’s eyes. “Zant is unstable and dangerous,”

The woman huffed, and went to start yelling when Malon stood up again and blocked her from the door. “Let’s talk, hm?”

The door shut and Twilight had to put in a lot of effort not to laugh as his mother tore into the woman outside the door. After a few minutes, Midna’s mother joined her, and Dusk’s father followed with a camera in hand.

No one else questioned the paints again.

In the end, Zant’s mother filed for a restraining order against Twilight and Malon, which Malon said she would abide by exclusively because it was one less expense on them. Midna’s parents refused to separate Midna from one of her friends, especially one who put his life at risk to help her, and didn’t sign onto the order the way Zant’s mother wanted them too.

Twilight ended up with a very nice looking set of markings over his forehead that Midna told him symbolized courage and boldness and sacrifice. He was quite proud of them.

He got back to school the same day as the presentation, which he thought was pretty amusingly coincidental. His mother, ever worrying, did insist he use a wheelchair (one they had for Time from a few years before Twilight was born) so he didn’t put undue strain on his injury.

The presentation went well, and things worked out fine. They even managed to keep their carrot alive. Midna’s ‘credits’ of course popped up, but it was much more even than in the past. Of course, there was still the ‘sitting around looking pretty’ category.

Midna was listed. They had taken a vote. Everyone found this hilarious.

There was more laughter when Twilight was listed as having ‘bled for this’. Keapora didn’t find it as amusing as their classmates did.

Midna moved away not long after that, her parents worried about Zant. She explained she wouldn’t be able to talk to them anymore until things calmed down or Zant was caught since her parents were scared.

That was the last time either of them spoke to her.

(---)

The markings Midna painted on stuck around for a very long time. Dusk theorized that the paint was probably some kind of tattoo paint, meant to stain the skin for a long time. Even four and a half years later, the paint was still visible. It was beginning to fade now, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get it redone. The only Twili in the area was Zant’s family, and no one was asking them. It was quite the conversation starter though.

He hadn’t heard from Midna at all since she moved away, and he really missed her. Turns out when you fight someone’s loony cousin together you bond. Who knew?

The scar on his stomach didn’t bother him much, unless it rained really hard or really suddenly. Overall, despite his continuing visits to a therapist and the occasional nightmare, he had recovered from the entire event mostly unscathed.

Most of the time he didn’t get to think about it, helping out on the ranch and prepping to take over some day, alongside his now seven brothers, meant he didn’t have time too.

His therapist was worried his drag racing was a sign of self-destructive behavior, and a symptom of trauma. He ignored her, even though she may have been right.

And that was life. That was just the way it was.

Eventually Time got a call from the police captain, whom he knew quite well by now, letting him know they apprehended Zant, and charges were pending. Time promised they’d testify.

Twilight finally put in an application to a college, one of the really rural ones that offered classes in the sort of stuff that’d be useful when he took over the ranch from his parents one day. He got accepted.

About two weeks after Zant was convicted and carted off, and Twilight was looking at packing up for his first semester, he got a call from an unknown number.

Curious, but not stupid, he turned on the call recording app he’d gotten after the first few times he’d received a threatening call after the whole Zant thing, and hit answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey wolf boy,”

He nearly dropped his phone.

#linked universe #lu #lu twilight #midna #lu dusk #zant #mind the warnings:#guns #shootings #school shooting #fist fights #twi gets shot #he's fine but he is out of it for a bit #references to trauma #references to self-destructive behaviour via drag racing #hospitals #zant's mother is a bitch #reference to a restraining order #school lockdowns #ask to tag #it's not as bad as the warning list makes it sound #just thought i'd cover all my bases #in honour of twi still being dead in yesterday's update have the adoption au fic where he gets shot!#also kiwi it won't let me tag you for some reason #and keapora here is geapora from sksw #but i used the name of the owl #because easy last name #also no mr. to his name because my highschool just used the teacher's last name only #he's actually based somewhat on my favorite social teacher #who does in fact have a working guillotine we used to behead carrots

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unrestedjade · 3 years

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Baseless Ferengi headcanons no one asked for and that get increasingly queer-navel-gazing and self indulgent because the horrible space goblins have consumed my brain:

- Mobile ears, because if hearing is so well developed and important to them they should be able to aim those big stupid radar dishes. Also because then they can emote with them and that's cute. THE AESTHETIC IS PARAMOUNT.

- Since they canonically sharpen their teeth with chew sticks and sharpeners, their teeth must grow continuously. So I submit: subcultures that let certain teeth grow out as a fashion/political statement. Ferengi punks and anarchists with 5" tusks. Ferengi with all their teeth filed flat (mom and dad HATE it).

- Corollary to the above, most of their teeth are crooked. At the least, they don't share our fetish for straight teeth. What if their teeth are deciduous, and there's no point in trying to force them into perfect alignment, since they'll just fall out and get replaced? So like, sharks but their teeth can also grow longer with no limit. WHAT HAST EVOLUTION WROUGHT ON FERENGINAR :V

- Parents nagging their kids to sharpen their teeth "or they'll grow up into your brain and you'll die :)"

- Personal space? Don't know her.

Okay I need a cut because there's too many now. WHOLE SOCIETY OF GAY HOMOPHOBIC UNCLES AND AUNTS GO I HAVE A PROBLEM

- I can't remember who on here put forth the idea of them having retractable claws but Yes. :3

- Pushing back against the worst canon episode a bit but: relative ear size being the only obvious sexually dimorphic trait, and even that having enough of a gray area that the only way to be 100% sure you're talking to a male or female Ferengi is if you do a blood test. Unless they're intersex! *shrug emoji*

- This is why they're so fanatical about gender conformity and their Victorian "separate spheres" attitude to men and women's roles. Capitalist patriarchy is fragile! And as artificial to Ferengi as it ever was to Humans! (self-indulgenceeeee about gender shiiiiit)

- You know how with domesticated rabbits, the rabbit getting groomed and paid attention to is the boss? Yeah. Go ahead and paint your bestie's nails, just don't be surprised if she cops a little bit of an attitude with you from then on.

- Their fight/flight/freeze/fawn instincts skew heavily toward the last three, and what a lot of other species read as annoying sucking up is the Ferengi in question feeling anxious and unsafe. Especially if they don't feel integrated into the group. Even being at the bottom of the pecking order is better than not being in the flock at all.

- If they DO opt for fight, it's ugly and typically their last resort. Bites or scratches will get infected without intervention-- microbes that their immune system can handle could cause big trouble for aliens. You might wanna check for full or partial teeth that break off and get lodged in the wound, too.

- Too many of these are tooth related but I don't care. :B More teeth stuff: you know what else has teeth that grow constantly? Puffer fish. Likewise, Ferengi can chew up mollusk shells as easy as potato chips, and they need the minerals for their teeth. (Imagine grandpa Sisko offering Nog a crayfish for the first time and watching as he just...pops the whole damn thing in his mouth and crunches away...)

- Their staple foods seem to be grubs and other arthropods, high in protein and fat. I've unilaterally decided their cuisine also involves a lot of edible fungi, ferns, plant shoots and seeds. Gotta get those vitamins. Overall flavor profile leaning toward umami, vegetal, and fresh herbs, and pretty mild (or "delicate" if you wanna be snooty about it, which a Ferengi probably would let's be real).

- Not much sugary food. I'm basing this solely on Quark's aversion to root beer as "cloying". Which could definitely just be his personal preference, but most of the people I hear hating on root beer cite the actual sassafras/sarsaparilla flavor (saying it tastes like medicine) not the sweetness. Nog might be the weirdo outlier for being able to enjoy it.

- Their home planet isn't bright and sunny, so their eyes are better at discerning shades of gray in low light conditions, with relatively weak color vision. Which could explain why they dress Like That.

- Conversely, human music has a reputation for stinking on ice because a lot of it is juuuuust lightly dissonant or out of tune because we can't pick up flaws that small. Ferengi can, and it drives them up the *wall*.

- Music? So many different kinds. Traditionally, maybe lots of percussion and winds, and water as a common component of many instruments to alter pitch or tone. Polyphony out the ass. Some of the modern stuff is an impenetrable wall of sound if you're not a species with a lot of brain real estate devoted to processing sounds. Pick out one melody to follow at a time.

- Yes, back to teeth again I'm sorry. It's a sickness. At some point in their history, pre-chewing food was just something you did for your baby or great grandma as a matter of necessity. Possibly your baby gets an important boost to their immune system and gut biome from your spit. At some point takes on a more formal intimacy aspect and gradually drifted from something all adults and older kids do to something only women do. Your husband and older kids have perfectly functional teeth, but you love them, right? =_= (Think old memes about husbands being useless in the kitchen if little wifey isn't there to cook, but even more ridiculous. Ishka was right about everything but especially this. Thank you for making your family chew their own food, Ishka. Not all heroes wear capes. Or anything!)

- How did they get started on the whole men: clothed vs women: unclothed nonsense? My equally stupid idea: men just get cold easier. Those huge ears dissipate a ton of body heat. Cue Ferengi cliches like "jeez, we could be standing on the surface of the sun and my husband would put on another layer." At some point, again, this got codified and pushed to ridiculous extremes in the name of controlling women and keeping everyone in their assigned box, to the point that women just have to shiver if they really are too cold and men have to pass out from heat stroke if the alternative is going shirtless, because That Would Be Inappropriate.

- Marriages default to five years, but they're also the only avenue for women to have their own household or any stability. Plus their religion places no emphasis on purity save for pure adherence to the free market and the RoA. So, curveball to the rest of their patriarchal bullshit: female virginity isn't a concern in the least. Bring it up and they'll rightly side-eye you.

- Family law is absolutely bonkers and lawyers that specialize in it make BANK. I feel like custody would default to the father usually but oh wait, the maternal grandfather has a legal stake in this, too, and your next father-in-law is asking HOW many kids are you dragging into my daughter's house, etc etc. Growing up with a full sibling is way rarer than growing up with half or stepsiblings, since it usually takes both men and women two or three tries to find someone they vibe with. (Not love, unless you're super cringe.)

- A misogynistic society is a homophobic society. Imo those flavors of shittiness just come in pairs. Homosexual behaviors are fine within certain parameters (aka "always have sex with the boss") but not on your own terms. To add spice, bisexuality is their most common mode (because I'm bi and these are my hcs for my fics I'm not writing, so there), but capitalism demands fresh grist for the mill so you better get het-married and pop out some kids you lowly peons. You have a choice so make the proper one. :)

- Corollary to the above, that doesn't keep all kinds of illicit "we're just friends with quid-pro-quo benefits for realsies" affairs of every stripe and every gender from going on everywhere. Many Ferengi have a lightbulb moment somewhere in early adulthood when they figure out their dad's business partner or the "auntie" who visited their mom every month had a little more going on.

- Plus there's way more gender non-conformity and varying degrees of trans-ing than the powers that be have a handle on. Pel isn't unique, even if most would have to somehow make it out into space to be able to thrive.

Damn a lot of these are just my personal bugbears plus THE GILDED AGE BUT WITH HAIRLESS SPACE RODENTS ain't they

- Women can't earn profit, okay. But lending or "lending" things to each other isn't commerce, riiiiiiight? To be assigned female is to master navigating a vast, dizzying barter/gift economy. Smart boys and men leverage this, too, and there are splinter sects that view this as the purest expression of the Great Material Continuum.

- Of course plenty of women make profit anyway, and just do their bast to dodge the FCA. The tough thing about insisting on using latinum as currency is that cash can be so hard to track, you know?

- Because of the RoA, guys are discouraged from doing favors or giving gifts without setting clear expectation of getting some return on investment. This can twist into an expression of friendship (and of course women do it too), and the ledger will keep cycling between debit and credit among friends for decades. A common mistake aliens make is to tell them recompense isn't needed without explaining why, or return their favor or present with something that zeroes out the debt. The Ferengi will assume you want to break off the friendship. (I cribbed this from dim memories of an African studies course I took in 2007 and whose textbook I know I still have but I can't frigging find it...)

- Flirting, they do a lot of it for a lot of reasons. Roddenberry made it clear that they're just straight up pretty horny, but there's no reason it can't pull double duty for building alliances with other people, smoothing over feuds or disagreements, or cementing friendships. Ferengi who are ace and/or sex-repulsed are possibly viewed similar to the way we'd view someone who's "not a hugger/not big on touching" and if they flirt just don't get offended if it doesn't go any further; aro Ferengi don't garner much comment aside from an occasional "wow how badass, never falling in love with anyone."

- where to even start on making sense of the Blessed Exchequer??? Like seriously, what is this literal prosperity gospel insanity, I need to force myself to re-read Rand and like, some Milton Friedman for this shit. Help.

- fuck I'm probably going to actually do that, RIP me...

#ds9 #star trek #meta #ferengi #i love them Too Much help #reliving my brief libertarian phase from high school from the opposite direction #my heart wants to make them simultaneously as queer and as repressed as possible #i didn't even make it to the goddamned blessed exchequer my head is too full #i will find beauty in this vulgarity if it kills me #this is too long #why did i spend my time this way

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justreadingfics · 4 years

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It’s a Deal (Chapter 6)

Chapter Summary: It’s time for the anticipated party.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 3.1k

Warnings boytoy!Bucky, mention to casual sex, open relationship, someone catching feelings.

A/N: No smut in this one… Thank you to my sweet Les for having my back. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.

Bucky takes a sip from the whiskey in his hand and, for a glimpse of a moment, he thinks of the time he would absolutely hate the scenario around him right now, crowded with people of all imaginable sorts, loud chattering and music, dance floors flashing with bright and colorful lights. A party, but not just a party, a Tony Stark Party, filled with all of that and also the best food in the country and even better drinks. He used to loath them, until he freed himself from his own mind restraints and remembered what a party really was: an opportunity to let yourself lose, follow no rules except to have fun and, of course, meet some nice people, especially women – lots of them- to spend time with… in his bed.

What had never crossed his mind, though, is that would come a day when he would be interested in meeting just one. And he holds his gaze on her right now. She’s there, among the sea of bodies, sipping from her drink while laughing and talking with her friends, Nat and Sharon.

Bucky can’t help the smile forming on his lips at the sight of her having her fun. As she should be…that party is all for her, after all. She looks beautiful, as usual, in a shimmery short dress and heels high enough to make a desert of his mouth. But it’s that loose laugh of hers, when her head falls a bit backwards as her shoulders shake and she puts her hand over her stomach, that makes his heart flutter inside his chest… He doesn’t even notice when his smile turns into a shuddering sigh.

He clears his throat before taking a long taste of his whiskey, hoping the strong liquor down his throat would help to put himself together. This is getting ridiculous… He needs to figure out what this huddle of… strange feelings growing inside him every time he sees or even thinks of her means… He needs to figure that shit out soon.

“Well, well, well.”

Steve’s voice grasps his attention as his eyes advert from her to meet his friend walking closer to him.

“What’s up, punk?” Bucky doesn’t even know why but he immediately hates that little teasing smile on Steve’s face, he decides to ignore it, though.

“That’s one vision I’m not really used to. Bucky Barnes drinking all alone at a party. Where’s the mini harem that it’s usually seen surrounding you at such events?” Steve asks, not trying to disguise the playful sarcasm in his words.

“Night is only beginning, pal,” Bucky answers, putting on a cocky smile and tapping on Steve’s shoulder, using a bit more strength than usual.

“Yeah, sure,” Steve chuckles, not thoroughly convincedby the excuse, “You know, ever since Nat and I came back from the mission, I’ve been hearing some interesting speculations from some members of the team who stayed here…”

“Do I wanna hear it?” Bucky cocks an eyebrow.

Steve hums, “The word is out you’re just not the same anymore,” he shrugs and sips from his drink, peeking Bucky from under his eyelashes.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“They don’t see the usual parade of women coming and going from your apartment. Sam says there’s been one mysterious lady, though… but none of them seem to guess who.” With no hint of subtleness in him and with a teasing smirk on his lips, Steve turns his gaze to her direction across the room.

“Jesus…” Bucky huffs, shaking his head before drinking from his whiskey, “Fucking all mighty Avengers… Don’t you all have a World or two to save instead of gossiping about my private life?”

“Which was never really that private, let us be honest.” Steve laughs.

Bucky can’t help but to let out a small laugh, too, shrugging at the incontestability of the statement. He was never one to be much discreet about his shenanigans.

“What is that exactly?” Steve insists, nodding his head in her direction, where she still talks animatedly with her friends, “I didn’t know you were, ahm, close friends with Y/n from the tech department.”

“Didn’t you walk in on us the other day?” Bucky puts on a mocking frown at him, “Do you need me to reenact it for you, pal? You know I would have no problem with that, but we’re gonna have to ask her-“

“You’re such a jerk,” Steve cuts him off, his cheeks already showing a shade of pink at the memory, “And don’t you think I didn’t notice that little stunt on movie night, too,” he adds in a chastising way, but the scowl quick breaks into a smile when Bucky laughs, “You know what I’m talking about, you’re Bucky, you love ladies, as in plural, you have loved them ever since you were a kid in the 30’s, I have to admit you’ve always been respectful in your own way, but you were never been a guy to settle for just one for longer than a night or two…” Steve follows Bucky’s gaze, which has automatically navigated towards her. He lets out a knowing hum before speaking again, “But I guess your path just hadn’t crossed with hers, yet…”

Bucky looks back at Steve, whose eyes are gleaming with something like excitement. Bucky doesn’t know exactly how the words sink into him, but he feels like he can’t just disagree, not if he’s going to be completely honest. Never has he felt the need to be with only one woman for that amount of time until… until her.

“I mean,” Steve continues after no answer from Bucky, “I think it’s great, it was about time for you to find someone-“

“Don’t go imagining unrealistic scenarios on your romantic little head, Punk. My name is not Steve Rogers to get off on,” a grimace twists Bucky’s face as he speaks, “Love, attachment… or any tacky sort of shit you’re into.”

Steve opens his mouth as if he were to say something, but lets out a frustrated sigh instead, pressing his lips into a taut line.

“No, seriously, pal,” Bucky continues, in a less snapping tone, “Our, ahm, friendship is based exclusively on what you’ve seen and heard so far,” he smirks, “Sex. She had just gotten out of a long relationship and needed to get off, Nat thought of me - of course -introduced my dick to her pussy, they’ve become best of friends and here we are now,” he holds back a laugh, knowing damn well how the vulgar choice of words would make Steve’s 40’s little brain short-circuit, being the precise reason why he chose to put it that way.

“Alright, alright, you’re just messing with me now,” Steve seems in a hurry to make his friend stop talking.

Bucky lets out the laugh he was holding and punches his friend’s shoulder, gaining a dirty look in response before resuming, “I mean… It’s nothing like you’re insinuating, she’s great and we’ve been having fun, that’s all,” Bucky adds as his gaze falls upon her again. Yeah… she’s great. And beautiful, sexy, funny, smart, kind- clearing his throat to dismiss his own betraying line of thoughts, he turns back to his friend.

“If you say so.” A small smile curls Steve’s lips, showing he’s anything but convinced.

Goddammit, he does have a lot to figure out.

~~~

“I knew something was up, Bucky never stays for movie nights.” Tears fill Sharon’s eyes from how hard she’s been laughing.

“I felt like a horny teenager in my parents’ home,” you resume the story you’ve been entertaining Sharon and Nat with, “Not that my teen years were that exciting,” you add with a grimace, “Far from it exactly, I was a tech nerd since I was eight, not really something that rocks teen boys’ worlds.” Bucky seems to really dig it, though, is the immediate thought that pops into your mind, but you see no reason why you should say it out loud.

“Well, it did bring you far enough,” Nat winks at you, moving her glass around the party being held to celebrate you to emphasize her point.

“Damn right,” Sharon agrees, raising her glass, which you and Nat quickly follow in a cheerful toast.

You can’t shake the smile of your lips. You wouldn’t go as far as to connect the events, but after your breakup with Eddie, it seems like you’re living another life. A new and more exciting life, both personally and professionally… That’s why it shouldn’t bother you so much that you still haven’t seen him. He said he would be there after you called to tell the news and invite him to come. But it does bother you to casually look around the party and not spotting him…

“So, it’s been like a month since this deal of yours started, right?” Nat asks, catching your attention after gulping from her customary vodka.

“Yeah,” your eyebrows furrow as you nod, “Sounds about right… and what a month, holy shitballs…” You round your eyes, letting out a puff.

“Care to share more details?” Sharon asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Well…” You quickly survey the area around you and sneakily lean closer to them as they mimic you, “I had no idea what my body could do, I mean, I’ve been in positions I’ve never thought were humanly possible to perform, there’s not a day I don’t feel sore on every little inch of me, it’s a constant state by now,” you add, and the grin on your face tells how little the soreness really bothers you.

“Super soldiers…” Sharon smirks and winks before clinking her glass of champagne with yours.

As Nat chuckles, you let out a giggle, “Yeah, I mean, my poor pussy hasn’t seen that much action her entire life.”

Nat’s jaw drops as she scoffs and turns to Sharon, “Check this out… this woman wouldn’t even say the word “sex” without choking before,” she points at you and you shrug, keeping the smile on your face.

“That’s the Barnes effect,” Sharon comments, before turning to you, ”But wait a minute, how often you two have been keeping this encounters up?”

You take a second to think about it before answering, “Almost daily, I guess. When I don’t call him, he ends up calling me and so we go.”

“Really?” Nat asks and when you give her the confirmation, her brows snap together as a wondering “huh” slips out of her lips.

She seems surprised by the fact you’re seeing Bucky practically every day, but you think nothing of it, “I’m sending you a whole box of this vodka you like so much, by the way.” You point at her glass, “You deserve it. I was just waiting for you to come back from that long ass mission of yours.”

He expression shifts to an amused one, “Oh, well, cheers to that,” she says before gulping down the rest of the liquid in her glass.

“But let me ask you something,” Sharon cuts in, “You’ve been seeing him almost daily, having amazing sex with the Adonis we all have to agree Bucky is…” she looks at Natasha for support, who just nonchalantly shrugs her agreement, before turning back to you, “Don’t you think it can become a bit complicated? In the feelings area, I mean, Bucky can be pretty charming, but when it comes to commitment, well-” She tilts her head as a hint of concern is present on her voice.

Nat too focuses on you, interested in what you have as an answer.

You snort and waves dismissively at their concern, “No way. Don’t worry, you two. Neither of us are looking for such a thing. It is what it is: just sex. Bucky is amazing, I don’t think I would be able to have that sort of relationship with anyone other than him. He’s so relaxed and laid back, no games… he’s pretty clear with his intentions, which is no romance at all and that’s exactly what I need right now. We both want the exact same thing, that’s pretty clear ever since we set this deal and it’s not going to change,” you say with tranquility and firmness in your words.

“Are you sure?” Nat insists, giving you that look you know it’s all about her making sure you’re ok. “This whole idea came from me but I know Bucky for a long time, I know he’s not one to do feelings, but I’ve been worried about how you would take it.”

“Absolutely…” you guarantee “And to be honest, I know I need to work on it, I do, but when I think about a relationship, I mean, a conventional relationship, I still think of Eddie… I feel like I’m still too caught up on him to think of anyone else that way,” You shrug, pressing your lips in a line, “Bucky’s being really important to help me get through it all, though, I have to admit it.”

“Well… I’m glad.” Nat gives you a sympathetic smile, brushing a hand on your arm.

“Alright… I guess you have a boytoy, then, huh?” Sharon teases.

You laugh, before conceding with a nod, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Speaking of the devil,” Nat says in a quiet mumble and nods to behind your shoulder.

Before you have the chance to turn around you hear his voice. That deep and raspy voice that usually makes your skin burn and tonight is no different, “Well, well, if it isn’t the power trio… Am I the devil by any chance?” Bucky steps beside you, narrowing his eyes at Natasha, before shooting you that captivating smile of his, the one that prompts a smile of yours to swiftly twist your lips too, “Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi,” you answer, seizing the moment to take him over. He looks absolutely ravishing with his styled fluff hair, light scruff shadowing his jaw and beautiful eyes stuck on you, wearing an untied blue suit over a casual white t-shirt that not every man could make it work. Sharon was damn right, Bucky really is charming… too charming for his own good.

“So, talking about me, ladies?” He insists, tilting his head and focusing a piercing gaze on you, despite addressing all three.

There’s something about him… you just can’t stop smiling at his presence and, even worse, don’t seem to be able to tell a lie, not even an innocent one to save your ass, so you decide to take a sip of your champagne and leave it to your friends to answer the question. You guess boytoy can’t be worse than “human dildo”, like you called him before, but that has been just between you two...

“Yeah, yeah,” Sharon is the one to step in, holding back a laugh just like you, as Natasha, ever a pro, sustains a perfect poker face, “I haven’t seen Steve, yet and I was wondering if he would be with you.”

If you’ve seen a flicker of disappointment in his eyes it quickly vanishes as he turns to Sharon, “Oh, yeah, he was. Look, there he is by the bar,” Bucky points, “And you might wanna check the amount of Asgardian Liquor is being sneaked to him, the guy is already talking nonsense.”

“Oooo, Asgardian Liquor Steve is the best, I give twenty minutes before he starts summoning Mjölnir from wherever Thor is now,” Sharon’s face twinkles with excitement, “See you guys later,” she adds before rushing towards the bar and her boyfriend.

As a girl from the staff comes along and refills Nat’s glass with her special vodka, Bucky looks back at you. You smile at him but soon frowns a bit. There’s something different in the way he’s looking at you and you can’t just pinpoint what it is. There’s always sheer hunger in his gazes for you that makes your spine tremble, but tonight… there’s something a bit more… introspective in it, maybe?

“So, enjoying your night?” he asks.

You brush your thoughts away to answer, “Oh, shit, yeah… This is unbelievable. I was never one to party that much, but I could get used to this.” You sign with your glass around, still marveled by the over the top event being held in your name. “Tony is out of this world.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s true, though,” Natasha comments with an exaggerated eye roll.

You chuckle before a sight behind Bucky’s shoulders catches your eye.

“Hey, I-“ Bucky starts.

“He’s here,” cutting out whatever Bucky was gonna say to you, your voice comes out in a gasp as your hands run cold and your heart races.

“Who? Tony?” Bucky asks with a grin, turning his face towards the direction you’re staring at with startled eyes.

“Eddie,” Nat is the one who answers, pointing at the man standing alone by the entrance, seeming a little lost as he glances around.

Not you nor Natasha sees when the smile on Bucky’s face falls. When he looks back around, though, he already has a lighthearted expression put on for you.

“I should go talk to him, right?” You check, shifting looks from him to Nat. As she just shrugs, curling the corner of her lips down - and by that, expressing exactly what she thinks - you appeal to Bucky, focusing pleading eyes on him. Deep down, you know what you wanna do, but for some reason, just needs someone to back you up.

“Yeah-“ he clears his throat, “I mean, you invited him, haven’t you?” He tightens his lips at an attempt of a smile.

“You’re right.” You nod, biting your lips nervously and looking straight ahead, “See you guys later.” You wave, after taking one or two deep breaths.

Your shoulder brushes against Bucky as you walk past him and he turns his body around, following you with his gaze. He takes a long sip of his drink and places a hand inside his pocket, watching as you approach your ex-boyfriend.

He tries hard to bury deep down inside him the tug on his chest.

“Oh, fuck…”

Natasha’s curse reminds him she’s still right there and he realizes she’s been watching him, with a dumbfounded expression he’s not used to seeing on her face.

He lets out a deep breath, “What?”

Natasha scoffs and shakes her head, seeming in a state of disbelief, “This whole time I’d been worried about the wrong person.”

~~~

To be continued.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

The Safe Side

No pairings

No warnings (surprising, I know)

Hotch is getting older and that scares the shit out of Reid

I probably wouldn't have finished this if not for @genevievedarcygranger

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

His only symptom is memory loss.

Reid sees it, he knows it. The symptoms he’s committed to his memory for better or worse dispelled so easily, so regularly before him but he can’t help but entertain his irrational fears. He’s not sure why. It would not be more comforting for Hotch’s occasional forgetfulness to be Alzheimer’s and not age and yet he waits for the moment that proves him wrong. For the phone call that Hotch is dressed for work and trying to get up to the bullpen. That they’ll lose him to anxiety and aggression, he’ll lose his temperament and comforting nature bit-by-bit until he’s broken down. And Reid will lose him too.

The good things become tainted by his fear.

At Christmas, they go to Rossi’s like they always do, and while the others dance to the music softly humming through the room Reid finds himself watching Hotch. Inspecting the grey hairs growing ever more along his temples, spread now through the rest of his hair. They age him appropriately but Reid can’t help but feel betrayed by their presence like he’s being taunted. No different from the reading glasses perched at the very edge of Hotch’s nose, the ones Hank lightly reaches up for. Old enough not to grab at them but still curiously taking a finger to trail their frames. Reid neglects his desire to be closer to them, to be drawn in by Hotch’s deep voice and the crackling fire soothing Hank to sleep. He stays where he is, hearing the ghosting bits of “Where The Wild Things Are” for the third time.

All he hears is science. Proof in the voice’s Hotch uses for each character -- “Oh, please don't go — I'll eat you up — I love you so!” -- that his language center had no inhibitions. The way Hank looks at Hotch when he bellows that line the first time, giggling and writing about when Hotch tickles him and squeezes him up tight so Hank can’t get away is lost to Reid for what it really is. That the spontaneous tickling and the reading mean other things. The love between them and Hank’s adoration for Hotch boiled down to symptoms Reid can prove Hotch doesn’t have.

Reid is terrified and it won’t let it up.

He finds himself panicking in Rossi’s backyard, surrounded by laughing people. Happy people who have no idea what his problem is. But he sweeps his over the clusters of chatting people and realizes that in all the groups he can’t find Hotch. Amidst them, he’s fairly easy to spot. Sticks to what he knows and who he’s most comfortable with. Diplomatic in that he makes sure he talks to everyone once but if he’s going to be someplace he’s not where he should be.

This is it, he tells himself. He’ll find Hotch confused, ambling about alone and where he shouldn’t be. Not sure where he is or why he’s here.

And then Reid turns around and finds Emily sitting with him on the porch swing. One of Hotch’s legs stretched out over the expanse of the porch, dark jeans a contrast to the concrete as he rocks them back and forth. Emily’s head on his shoulder and his arm around her back, a glass of wine passed between them. Neither saying a word as they watch the teams they built interacting with one another, families mixing together.

Reid can’t enjoy their smiles, the way they look out over everyone like proud parents.

Even his own birthday with books in a variety of languages sitting around him wrapped in an array of papers that so brilliantly display who their giver was. With his fingers tracing the one covered in newspaper, the one he knows is from Hotch, Reid is lost to this rot in the pit of his stomach. The sludge that fills his veins with tension. It leaves him the only person not smiling, with no idea what’s happening, when Garcia and Hotch stand over his cake fussing about which direction to light the candles. He misses the finger Hotch swipes through the icing and dollops right on Garcia’s nose. Looks up to watch Garcia retaliate with the same treatment but can’t enjoy it, can’t feel love or ease when the room erupts in laughter and Garcia and Hotch stand there with their icing-covered noses smiling at one another.

He finally finds the courage to mention it to someone, tells Morgan one afternoon when they both end up at Hotch’s house. Morgan is there fixing some wooden stakes in Hotch’s garden and Reid dropping off groceries. Hotch is sleeping off surgery medication, unaware of the hushed conversation being had outside.

“Kid,” Morgan can see it. The terror eating Reid alive. “They just hacked him apart and put him back together, all right? He’s on some strong shit right now. He’ll be fine in a day or two. You’ll see.” Morgan tells him not to worry about it, Hotch has been knocked around his entire life. Nearly sixty years of severe blows to the head and if he manages to walk out of this life with just a sketchy memory then he’s getting off lucky.

But when Hotch stands for too long in a room trying to remember what he was doing or when he can’t provide an answer for how much coffee he’s had or if he needs eggs or if he had the last bowl of oatmeal this morning it scares the shit out of Reid.

Really, Hotch is fine.

Hotch had to write his doctor’s appointments down and he’s constantly needing some sort of surgery to fix whatever old injury is coming back to remind him of his previous offense but he’s his normal actively grouchy self. He never forgets to stop by Reid’s apartment Thursday around noon or his promise to get Henry and Hank from school when no one else can.

That doesn’t mean no one worries about him.

He would hate to know the collapse wasn’t when they started taking note of his fragile health.

Two weeks after his forty-fifth birthday he pulled a muscle in his chest (moving the couch so Jack could get a Hotwheels out from underneath) and JJ had watched him pause during his coffee run to press his palm into the strain. Her mind had filtered through a hundred scenarios to explain the behavior and they’d all ended with his death. Hotch is the kind of person with a puzzle piece life, whose pieces are spread out over the course of years, meant to be collected and put together by only the most detail-oriented. She knew his father had died of a heart attack and Reid only served to reiterate that fact. It was only a pulled muscle but, not for the first time, she felt utterly terrified of how much losing him would hurt.

There’s a string of these awful moments when his humanity, his mortality, is right there for them to witness. And, as strong as they’d like to believe themselves to be, they look away.

He’s fine now, all things considered.

The janky memory thing isn’t all that bad. He has milked it on more than one occasion. It’s how he keeps missing his physical therapy. Although, that has come around to bite him in the ass. He’s supposed to be using this cane they gave him and now someone shows up every week to take him to the appointment so he can’t even play it off like he’s forgotten. Typically it’s Emily or Derek but Garcia’s shown up and Reid even took him once. It’s very annoying. Doesn’t help that there are roughly thirteen people who he might run into in public who know he’s supposed to be using the cane and who will inquire about it or bring it up to someone else.

He hadn’t realized just how many people could get on his case until he’d run into Matt’s wife in the store and after having their brief, polite conversation where he mentioned Reid had called him not that long ago asking for advice on the BAUs current case, she asked about his knee. She said Garcia had been fretting over this last surgery he had and told her about it, she hadn’t thought that much time had passed. Was surprised he was back on his feet. It had taken six hours for him to get the phone call from Garcia and then Emily came over an hour later begging him to just “for the sake of my fucking sanity, Hotch, take it easy”. That’s when Garcia sat down and made him a calendar and he lost his say in matters of his grocery shopping and responsibility to take himself to doctor’s appointments.

He’s since won back grocery shopping. His doctor wrote him a note and Garcia conceded. She’s not stupid enough to toss their schedule for his doctor’s appointments though.

So, though he loathes it, he takes the cane with him when he leaves the house.

He’s learned his lesson. Penelope Garcia is one scary-ass lady who has far more control over him and everyone else than he’d care to realize.

Hotch hears the doorbell, muffled though it is, from outside. He’d known getting down on the ground was a bad idea with the way his knees have been hurting but he’s got zucchini and cucumbers laying out in the sun and while he ignored them yesterday, he knows he need to get them out today. Reid had expressed interest in them and Rossi’s likely to want the zucchini. He also knows Derek offered to take care of this sort of stuff but it’s a too warm Sunday morning and Derek’s likely chasing around a happy toddler.

Besides, he doesn’t have enough tomatoes to compensate for Derek’s work. That being said Derek would come over and do it regardless, he doesn’t mind.

“It’s about to rain,” Reid informs him the second he gets to the door. Hotch watches Reid’s eyes flick to his empty left hand, to the curve of his limp palm where his cane is supposed to be. Unlike the others, Hotch knows Reid will not say anything directly to him. Emily might ask where the cane is and Garcia would insist on going to get it but Reid will just anxiously flicker back and forth between Hotch’s face and his hand. Twisting and worrying until Hotch gets it himself. Which is surprisingly effective.

Hotch hums his agreeance, he could smell it in the air. Can tell it’s going to be a good storm with the shift and strength of the wind coming in. It’ll cool things off for a few hours then bring back the humidity and the mosquitoes with a vengeance.

“Do you think” Reid follows Hotch into the kitchen. He’s careful to keep a distance, not to push Hotch’s pace. He mills about in odd places to compensate their gates, looks at the book sitting on Hotch’s coffee table. “Do you think it’s going to rain a lot?” He’s a genius with the means to figure that out on his own and likely he already knows what he thinks the answer is. Hotch’s opinion is still important.

Hotch is in the fridge, rustling bags around as he finds the bag of vegetables he’s got set aside for Reid. He’s weird about fruits and vegetables, worries about bacteria and things but will eat a Poptart for every meal if given the chance. The logic is irrational but after twenty years of worrying about Reid’s diet, Hotch has finally found a solution to this particular problem.

“No tomatoes,” Hotch promises as he hands the bag over to Reid.

Reid nods, “I don’t like tomatoes.”

“I know.”

Reid takes his bag, smiles as he thinks about what things he can make with what he’s been given. “How much do you think it’ll rain?” he asks again.

Hotch hums, having heard Reid the first time. “It’ll be a good storm,” he figures, “might take out the electricity.” He only adds the last bit as a warning. Reid’s scared of the dark, a fact exacerbated by big storms that knock out the electricity. A common occurrence but no less startling.

“Oh.” Reid worries his lip, looks to the ground and everywhere but where Hotch is.

It’s likely to start soon, the winds really picking up and the sun’s drowned out by thick, rolling clouds. The storm of the century it’s likely not. Hotch doubts it’s even the sort people pull over on the side of the road to wait out but he decides to think it might anyway. Decides to tap Reid’s elbow and motion for him to follow, “come on.” He’s not even really sure where he’s going but it’ll lend a distraction. “Wait out the storm,” Hotch tells him, glancing back to make sure Reid’s following. “I wanna show you something.”

They spend the storm in his office, leaning over an old law school textbook. Reid has an affinity for them. No matter how many times Hotch uses them for a distraction, pulling them down from their dusty shelves, Reid still takes to them like it’s the very first time. He’ll sit for hours reading over the information but, his favorite parts, are how Hotch they are.

The notes he’s scribbled in the margins. Flashes of yellow highlighter. A coffee stain or smudge where his palm moves against not yet dried ink. Notes for cases or classes. Pages he’s dog-eared. They’re lived in, nearly perfect condition biographies. Of course, Reid gravitates to them.

By the time the storm rolls over Reid realizes he’s been alone in the office for hours. Sheepishly, he gets up and looks around. Makes his way through Hotch’s house until Reid finds him on the couch. As soon as Hotch sees him he takes off his reading glasses, placing a bookmark in his book and raising his eyebrow to inquire if Reid needs something.

“I should probably get going.”

Hotch doesn’t miss how suddenly bashful Reid gets, the way he looks down at the floor. “If you’d like,” Hotch won’t encourage him to leave. He spends a lot of time alone. He doesn’t mind have someone floating around. But Reid’s decided he’s overstayed his welcome so he moves cautiously towards the door. Taking his time because he knows Hotch will see him out.

“Be careful,” Hotch tells him as he opens himself up for a hug and Reid flushes a little under the attention but still steps into Hotch’s arms. Hotch gives him the bag of vegetables and frowns at the state of Reid’s hair. “Stop worrying so much,” Hotch fusses and they’re both aware of how parental his tone has gotten as frowns. He can see grey hairs here and there. Maybe not as present as his but there. “Do you want to talk about it? Whatever’s worrying you so much?”

Reid freezes, confused. Ordinarily, he’d give in, Hotch always fixes things but not this time. “I’m okay,” Reid promises.

Hotch doesn’t believe him but Reid’s an adult and Hotch knows when he’s needed Reid will know where to find him. All he can hope is that Reid comes to him if he really needs help. “Alright.”

They nod once more and Reid steps out but he’s not halfway down the driveway when Hotch shouts “I meant it, be careful driving home!”

Reid stops where he is, struck by the oddness of this situation. He made it his entire childhood without this sort of thing. His mother cared that he got home but he didn’t have friends to be out with. Never needed to stop and figure out how to call home and tell her he’d be home late. Now he’s lost his mother and he’s lost Gideon.

And he’s terrified he’ll lose Hotch next.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” he offers, feels silly the second it comes out of his mouth. Like Hotch would care enough for that. Like Hotch won’t be bothered with him texting him. Like Hotch is going to sit there and wait for the text.

Hotch narrows his eyes, “you’d better.”

Because Hotch will sit there and wait for the text.

“Yes, sir.”

Hotch is fine but Reid will keep watching just to be on the safe side.

#criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #criminal minds

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killuaisaprincess · 3 years

Text

Only One

SHORT KI SUPREMACY! I just want really short bby little Ki! People can come to me with dna, blah, blah, blah. I don't give a fuck.

♥*♡∞:｡.｡　　｡.｡:∞♡*♥

Killua wanted to laugh. In cold dripping irony, all at his parents. The ones who thought he'd be a perfect heir. For many reasons, all genetic reasoning. He wants to laugh at all the DNA in his blood. He hated being short, but for the one reason above, he loved it. Reveled in it. Imagine if they saw him now, nineteen years of age and still only about five foot four. He hasn't grown... At all. Well, hardly that is, since the last time he saw his parents.

Alluka reveled in it too. She was happy to be a whole three inches taller, and she was a little devil about it. Kalluto; sweet thing they are, would always pat his head and tell him it's fine. While patting his head.

That little monster was up to it again.

Killua sighs, glaring daggers at the cereal box that sits just at the very top edge of the shelf. The top-shelf. Alluka herself could barely reach it, but he knows she asks Nanika for help if she really needs it. That and if she reached up on her tiptoes, she could get it.

Killua... Killua wasn't going to be able to get it. Not unless he jumped, which he was much too grouchy and sleepy to physically do so. Silver locks of hair sticking out all over the place in an even messier manner than usual, the sleeve of Gon's t-shirt falling off his thin shoulder easily.

Oh, right. Gon's. That lovable moron was going to be whining about how he 'stole' his favorite shirt again. Killua didn't steal anything! He was borrowing it! Maybe Gon should stop leaving his clothes out on the bed if he didn't want him to take them! It's not his fault they're comfy!

Killua grinds down on his teeth, ignoring his sister when she pads into the room very loudly, a sleepy smile on her face.

"Gooooddd morning, big brother..."

She slurs out, wiping at her eyes, her long hair sticking out much akin to Killua's, albeit less so due to the length.

Grr... she has some nerve being such an adorable, sweet, evil little sister in the morning; he knows it was her doing!

She stumbles on over, clearly ignoring the box at the top of the opened cabinet, placing a palm over his head of messy hair and patting. Something she must have gotten from Kalluto. Dangit! That kid was nothing but sweet and filled with good intentions, but now Alluka's doing it!

"Good morning, Alluka." He forces cheer and a smile through gritted teeth.

"Can you ask Nanika to come out? I want to tell her good morning."

All the vice in his voice is replaced with soft happiness.

Every morning he'd make sure to say hello to both of them, although today, sadly... He was also going to have to ask her to get the box of cereal.

He really didn't like asking her for things, but it's not like Alluka was going to be able to reach the dammed thing without asking for help either. Since she was also not fond of physical activity straight away in the morning.

"Mmm!"

She nods her head about to do so when another pair of footsteps that sound like an elephant clambering around make her turn her head, grinning wide.

Killua groans. No. He was not. Never. Asking for Gon's help.

He turns slowly, eyebrows pushed down in annoyance only to raise faster than his Godspeed, seeing Gon, very much so, not wearing a shirt.

He screeches.

"Wh-what! You idiot! Put on a shirt! My sisters are here!"

Killua quickly slaps his hand over Alluka's eyes, his face a brilliant shade of scarlet.

Gon, the stupid, six-foot-six lumbering giant, has the nerve to pout, pout at him like an overgrown man child.

He has the nerve, the nerve to look cute...

"Somebody stole my shirt."

He emphasizes the somebody, giving a pointed stare to Killua, who is as bright red as a tomato at this point.

"W-well... you have other shirts, moron, use those!"

Alluka giggles, wrapping her fingers around Killua's and tugging them away.

"I think you're the only one who's bothered, big brother."

She teases, shrugging like she's unbothered by the fact that Gon is standing in the room without a shirt! Gon with his stupid abs, his stupid goofy grin, and his eyes you could just stare at forever...

"Here!"

Gon chirps, and his not daydreaming, surely not, is interrupted by a box right in front of his nose. Killua stares and stares before grabbing it with an annoyed huff.

Alluka in the background giggles, holding her dainty fingers in front of her mouth.

"Thanks, Gon! Big brother couldn't reach because he's sooooooooo short!"

That little devil.

Gon looks at him with those big brown eyes, back and forth between him and his sister.

"I don't think he's short."

Finally! Someone on his side!

"I think Killua's a cute little munchkin!"

Alluka isn't sure whose face loses color first; her brother, who goes dead cold silent, ghost pale, minus the red starting to burn at the tips of his ears, or Gon. Gon, who must be remembering Killua, may look fragile and tiny, but he has a fierce leopard on the inside he is not afraid to let out.

He does when he promptly knocks the wind out of Gon, punching him square in the gut.

Alluka just grabs the cereal box, now on the floor, ignoring Gon's wheezes and whines, alongside her brother's angered, flustered 'idiots.'

It was just another day in the household.

— —

"Lily? What's wrong?"

Killua's tense posture, tightened scrunch of his eyebrows, the endless biting on his bottom lip till it bleeds, bristles and shifts slightly at the voice. His cheeks flush pink slightly at the use of the nickname, at how it makes his insides feel all warm. How Gon's voice alone makes Killua feel safe, protected, and better all at once. His warmth presses against him enveloping him. Even though the big oaf had to lean down so far to do so, it makes his heart flutter more.

When Gon's arms fall over his shoulders and wrap his whole lithe frame in a cocoon of warmth, Killua lets out a breath he's been holding for who knows how long; the stress and anxiety slowly building releasing with it.

"Gon."

He looks up even though he cannot see Gon's face from this position.

"I'm-"

"This isn't just because Leorio's been trying to get you to drink even though you're still underage, is it?"

It's less of a question and more Gon seeing through every wall he builds up.

Gon removes his chin and then his arms, leaving Killua feeling empty and cold in a split moment.

Until Gon leans down, knees digging into the grass and tugs Killua around, and pulls him flesh into his chest.

It probably looks ridiculous; Killua's knees are now also bent at an awkward angle to be able to be smothered in Gon's arms, Gon's strong warm arms that wrapped around him the instant he had been pulled in.

It looked downright stupid. He's sure. He doesn't really care at the moment. Gon doesn't either. Gon never did. Killua hated being short, but he found more exceptions every day. Killua's small and fits easily in Gon's arms; he fits so easily, snuggly, and warmly. It makes him break under the impact, and he sniffs. Just once.

Gon leans his nose into his hair and mummers such kind things; it only makes him feel somehow better and worse concurrently.

"We'll figure it out together. I won't let anything happen to Killua or anyone else. I don't want Killua to be unhappy on his birthday."

The fact that Gon knows exactly what he's thinking, it makes him stifle a sob.

Gon knew he was worried about what would happen on his twenty-first birthday, it was going to be some huge event for his parents, and he's terrified.

Gon takes away some of that fear, though, and he buries his nose into the nice fabric of Gon's tuxedo and gets snot and tears all over it, but Gon doesn't care. He just holds him, eventually pulling Killua into his lap, so they're both more comfortable. He doesn't let go, not until he's sure Killua is okay.

— —

Once Leorio is done smashing Kurapika's face into his birthday cake for 'The bastard showing up late!', both of which bring a smile to Killua's face, Gon's standing there; tux now clean, bowing like an idiot.

"May I have this dance?"

Killua takes one look and snorts, genuine laughter spilling from his lips.

"You moron."

Gon looks up with a cheeky grin, getting down on one knee and grabbing Killua's nimble fingers, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

"Your moron."

Killua goes bright red and whips his hand back as Gon stands back at his full height.

"S-shut up; you're so embarrassing!"

He is close to threatening to use some leftover cake and throw some at Gon, but one look at those sparkling eyes, makes him give in.

He anxiously digs his palms into his white suit, eyes darting from the ground to Gon frantically, the tips of his ears are on fire, and his cheeks even more so.

He, in a rush of embarrassment, runs over and almost collides with Gon. Slowly standing on the tip of his toes, ignoring how painful it is to do in these damm dress shoes. He can't reach with ease, and his heart is hammering in his chest. Gon leans down and meets his lips.

Promptly laughing into the kiss, filling Killua's stomach with butterflies and making him start to giggle too, and he tries to hit Gon's shoulder; keyword, tries. Not that it really matters since he still manages to get a playful, gentle hit on him.

Gon pulls away, still grinning like a fool.

"S-stupid!"

Killua's face is the same shade as the bright red carpet, and Gon grabs his wrist and tugs him closer, Killua still too flustered, giggly, and annoyed to argue. Gon made him feel a million things and more.

They bumble around, Gon almost falling over when he bends down to place a hand on Killua's waist, and Killua decides then Gon's a horrible dancer and jumps up, wrapping his legs around Gon's waist. Trusting Gon to catch him, so he doesn't fall, even as he wraps his arms around his neck. Gon does and saunters them around like that, uncaring of the stares, giggles, and crying in the background. Was the old man crying, or was it the old hag?

Questions for another day. Killua simply enjoys the moment with Gon.

"I like this version of dancing more!"

Gon presses his forehead down into Killua's, and Killua smiles. He smiles so fondly, filling with warmth.

"You would, you dolt!"

Well, he did too. Maybe... maybe being this short wasn't so bad after all.

♥*♡∞:｡.｡　　｡.｡:∞♡*♥

Large, lovable Gon being so soft and kind with tiny Ki is my life blood.

#hunter x hunter #killua zoldyck #hxh #killua #killua hxh #hxh killua #gon freecss #gonkillu #Gon #Gon x Killua #hxh Gon #;windy’s stuff #don’t like pay me 1 million should suffice #and I’ll stop lol

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fuckyeahisawthat · 3 years

Note

Have you been asked yet to rank Trust eps? Cos I'm asking! But your the criteria for ranking I leave to you to decide.

Ahahahaha I’ll have you know I put way too much thought into this. :-D

Ok so first of all, there is no such thing as a bad episode of Trust. The whole thing is really tightly written, every character and plot thread has a purpose, and even the episodes that I haven’t watched over and over again are important to the overall story. And a lot of the impact of the show comes from things that are cumulative over multiple episodes.

That being said, I do have favorites. Since the definitive ranking of Primo’s outfits has already been taken care of, here is my ranking from least to most favorite based on some nebulous criteria of artistic/narrative effectiveness and emotional impact, my judgement of which is obviously highly subjective and also correct.

Under the cut because this got ummm unbelievably, ridiculously long.

10. The House of Getty (episode 1)

Sorry Danny Boyle and Simon Beaufoy, the pilot is my least favorite episode. Still think it was the wrong choice to open with a flashy (and, I can tell, expensive) sequence showcasing the death of a character we literally never see again. And, look, I’m an impatient viewer. If I don’t get someone to root for/emotionally identify with/otherwise catch my interest early on in a narrative, I’ll tune out. And Old Paul is not only unlikeable--far from a mortal sin in dramatic storytelling--he’s boring. I don’t care about any of his rich people problems, and I’m not the kind of viewer who can be kept engaged just by hating someone and watching them be terrible.

Some of the secondary characters in the Getty household do have interesting plotlines, but we don’t get to learn very much about them in the first episode. And I do think things get interesting once Little Paul shows up (although I maintain that the whole episode is more interesting if we understand what the stakes are for Paul getting the money), but if I had started watching this show with no context I wouldn’t have made it past Old Paul’s pre-coital erotica listening routine.

If this had been anything other than the first episode I might not have ranked it last, but extra penalty points for leading with your least interesting characters.

9. Lone Star (episode 2)

This episode is, I think, saddled by the fact that it has to do a lot of heavy lifting in terms of exposition and setup. It mostly works because Chace is an entertaining narrator, and once we get to Italy with Gail I think things zip along at a pretty good pace. Opens with an attempted rape to show how Bad the Bad Guys are, which is...not my favorite trope.

Once again, I think a lot of the information in this episode would have worked better if episode 3 had been episode 1. (We’d already know who Berto was when Chace meets him; we’d already know about the box of guns in the apartment; we’d know when certain characters are lying.) This whole show runs on the suspense of the audience being the only party who knows what’s going on with all the characters at once; I think trading mystery for suspense here was the wrong move. I also can’t help thinking there was pressure to front-load the well-known American actors in the beginning of the show at the expense of the strongest narrative choices.

Imo the best thing about this episode is the sort of...multiple competing images of Paul that emerge. His mom sees him as an innocent victim who couldn’t possibly have planned any of this. Chace sees him as a spoiled rich kid trying to swindle his granddad. Neither one of them has the complete truth.

Next we get into some episodes that are certainly not bad, but their greatness is more on the level of some bangin’ individual scenes than a whole package.

8. John, Chapter 11 (episode 6)

Again, this isn’t a bad episode. The main reason I put it near the end of the list is that the first time through I got sort of impatient during the first half. We, the audience, by virtue of our extra-textual knowledge, know that Paul can’t be dead, and we spend about half the episode before we know what really happened to him, which felt a bit too long to me.

This episode does have some fantastic individual scenes including: Leo talking Primo down in the farmhouse, Leo and Paul’s conversation about Angelo’s death, Gail being an absolute badass, and the meeting between Salvatore and Old Paul. A lot of these scenes are essential on a thematic level, but I don’t think the episode as a whole is the most streamlined.

7. Consequences (episode 10)

I debated for a while where to put this episode because the overall feeling of 57 Chekov’s guns going off in the space of one episode is SO satisfying, and the resolutions of some of the individual plotlines are delicious. Ultimately I would have liked more space for Paul and Gail and less Old Paul being grumpy about his substitute child museum’s mediocrity (although the scene with the bad reviews is hilarious). Once again I feel like the show creators felt they had to pull the focus back to Old Paul to wrap things up and I just. don’t care.

That being said. The resolution of Primo’s storyline? SO SATISFYING. And tbh I don’t dislike the scenes that exist with Paul and Gail; even the happy scenes have this poignant tone to them. I think they were trying to deal with the fact that his irl story is just...incredibly fucking tragic, and you can see a bit of the strain showing.

6. Kodachrome (episode 7)

I know episode 7 is not one of your personal favorites, but it’s the one where I think jumping between multiple plotlines/sets of characters is used to the most satisfying dramatic effect. It has this sense of dramatic irony that feels like some Shakespearean family tragedy. The whole episode, we are hoping that Paul Jr. will finally do the thing we want him to do, which is stand up to his father. And he does it--but at the absolute worst, most selfish and destructive moment possible.

Paul Jr. may be the literal worst, but I do have compassion for him in the flashbacks, mostly because it seems painfully apparent that no matter what he does, he will never be able to please his father. But he doesn’t seem to realize this, and he keeps trying, even as it’s destroying him and his relationship with his family. Credit to Michael Esper for his performance for making me feel a smidgen of compassion for this bastard.

I think the other thing this episode shows is how both of Paul’s parents keep putting him, a child, into roles and circumstances that he shouldn’t really be in. He’s wandering around through what seem like very much adult environments with his dad and Talitha in Morocco. In the Trust version of events he’s there when Talitha ODs and is the one trying to revive her while his dad is having a breakdown in the corner. Gail seems like the more responsible parent but there’s something about her bringing Paul as her “date” on a night out, and the understanding that this is a thing that happens regularly...to me the disturbing part is not so much bringing a young kid to a party with adults but the unspoken expectation that Little Paul will fill the void of companionship that his father has left empty. (Gettys expecting Little Paul to step in to cover for the failings of his father is a repeated theme, and it even plays into the ear thing. His family has failed to pay the ransom, so this is now a problem he has to solve himself.) Combine this all with Leonardo going, um, excuse me but what the actual fuck is wrong with your family? and I think it makes a very effective episode. And the last couple minutes had me yelling NOOOOOOOO GODDAMMIT because you can see what’s going to happen and you’re just watching it unfolding like a car wreck. Also has one of my hands-down favorite scenes, of Paul and Primo in the car waiting for the ransom.

5. White Car in a Snowstorm (episode 9)

The ~ D R A M A !!! ~ This episode is an opera. I mean this whole show is dramatique but episode 9 really leans into the vivid imagery--that snowy highway in the mountains above the sea, the all-white ransom exchange, Paul clinging to the pole at the shuttered Getty gas station, some Very Serious Mobsters throwing the ransom money around like idiots in a moment where you’re encouraged to be happy along with them.

This is also one of my favorite episodes for Primo and for Primo and Paul’s weird sometimes-alliance. Primo walking away from Salvatore to go tell Paul “they always pay in the end”? Primo and Paul teaming up to argue with Salvatore about why Paul shouldn’t die? Primo being all threateny to the doctor treating Paul because somewhere deep down he is worried (that’s my take and you’ll never convince me otherwise)? Primo dressing up to fake-scab on a postal strike in order to find a misplaced severed ear? All gold.

Fun fact: the letter Gail writes to President Nixon did happen in real life, but as far as I can tell the phone call did not. The real details of who convinced Old Paul to finally pay (some) of the ransom are considerably less cinematic. They’re the same amount of sexist though!

Ok now we are getting to the top tier...

4. That’s All Folks! (episode 4)

This is definitely the episode that took me from “ok this is fun” to “oh holy shit I’m invested now.” It’s the episode where we get introduced to most of the Calabrian characters and their world. It’s also the episode where we start to realize that Primo is not just a fun antagonist but is really a parallel protagonist to Little Paul, with his own set of relationships and motivations that we start to see from his POV. (I’d argue that, with the exception of his very first scene, we’ve mostly seen Primo through other characters’ gaze up until episode 4, and this is the point where we start watching him as like, the character whose pursuit of a goal we’re following over the course of the scene.)

This episode ranks high for capturing so much of the weird mix of tones that makes Trust work. It can be very funny. (I never fail to fuckin lose it when Fifty is on the phone with Gail the first time and when he’s talking to the thoroughly unimpressed newspaper switchboard operator.) It has this weird unexpected intimacy between characters you wouldn’t think would connect with each other. (Primo and Paul, Paul and Angelo; in retrospect the arc of the relationship between Primo and Leo gets started in that scene in Salvatore’s kitchen.) And it has one of the show’s absolute best record-scratch tone shifts when Primo gets the ransom offer. I remember saying “oh FUCK” out loud the first time I watched the end of that episode, when Primo comes back to the house, visibly drunk and clearly furious. We’ve seen him be violent plenty before now in the show, but always in a controlled, calculated way. This is the first time we see his potential for out-of-control rage-fueled violence and he’s terrifying!

3. La Dolce Vita (episode 3)

I stand by my claim that this episode (with a few minor continuity adjustments) should have been the pilot. Can you imagine a title card that’s like “Rome 1973” and then away we go with Paul snorting coke and taking racy photos and jumping on cops and fucking his girlfriend in what is definitely not proper museum etiquette, and then the smash cut to Primo intimidating and robbing and murdering people? And that’s the opening of the whole show? And you’re like how are these characters connected and then they meet each other and it’s the fucking sunflower field scene??

Anyway aside from the fact that I think knowing the information in this episode would have made episodes 1 and 2 more interesting...it’s just a great fucking episode. It’s kinetic and propulsive and funny and tense and violent and features Primo’s sniper skills and his ass in those cornflower blue trousers. I rest my case.

2. Silenzio (episode 5)

I’ll be honest, I went back and forth on the top two a bunch. Silenzio is definitely my personal favorite episode, and I’d argue that it’s the best written, in terms of what it accomplishes narratively, which is to keep you emotionally invested in both Paul and Angelo trying to escape with their lives, and Primo and Leonardo hunting them down. That’s so fucking hard!! And yes some of it is great acting but it starts from the foundation of the writing. It’s just such a perfect little self-contained horror movie, and it has this profound sense of fatalism to it, because you know from the beginning (if only by virtue of only being halfway through the series) that Paul is not going to escape, and you sort of know that there is only one way this will end for Angelo. And yet they escape by the skin of their teeth so! many! times!

It’s also the episode where you see how much power the ‘Ndrangheta has over people’s lives in this community: Salvatore is like God, calling his servants to him with the church bells. Combine that with the visuals of two characters running for their lives mostly on foot through this unforgiving landscape, and you really get the sense of this environment as a harsh place where most people have a very constrained set of choices, and the claustrophobia of that. You get the sense in this episode that everyone is trapped in these expectations of violence and duty and honor. Angelo did what anyone with compassion would do, and saved Paul from what seemed like certain death, and he’s doomed for it. At the same time Primo is doing exactly what anyone would expect him to do in response to a subordinate who disobeyed him. In some ways the end of the episode feels inevitable, unsurprising, and yet they do SUCH a good job of winding up the tension until the literal last seconds of the episode, and then releasing it with a big dramatic bang. It’s so good!!

1. In the Name of the Father (episode 8)

Ok I’ll be honest the ONLY reason In the Name of the Father edged out Silenzio for the top spot is that it is really clear they pulled out all the stops in terms of making this episode feel extra heightened in a show where everything is already heightened. Like, the cinematography is different? They still use handheld a lot but I swear there are more still shots and more extreme, editorial camera angles like that shot of Francesco looking upward in church where the camera is looking down from above him. I can’t tell if they actually tweaked the color grading or if the bright white and blood red just stand out against the Calabrian color palette which is mostly earth tones, browns and greens and blues.

There are just. So many layers to this episode. The imagery! The literal sacrificial lamb at the beginning, Francesco being guided by Leonardo through an act of violence against an animal, something that I’m sure they don’t even see as violence but just part of farm life, part of survival and in this case part of a celebration, but something that fathers teach their sons how to do as part of becoming a man in this world. Paul as the metaphorical sacrificial lamb later, drawing parallels to Jesus (the lamb of God), Isaac (a father sacrificing his son), any number of martyred saints, pick your Catholic imagery. The blood of the lamb on the tree stump and Paul’s blood on the stone. The communion wafer (the body and blood of Christ) and Francesco at the end with Paul’s blood and a literal piece of his body held in his hands the same way.

And then there is like, the suspense of watching everyone marking time through the steps of this community ritual that’s supposed to be a joyful, communal celebration, while we know that there is a secret ticking away under the surface. The slow unfolding of the lie told to one person spreading to everyone in the village, and then the knowledge that Salvatore knows spreading to all the people who’ll be in trouble for that. The relationship arcs between the main Calabrian characters...not resolving, but sliding into place for the final act. Primo finally being done with Salvatore. Primo and Leo’s alliance being cemented and Leo physically stepping between Primo and Salvatore, to protect Primo. (No one ever protects Primo!! Still not over it!!!!) The confirmation celebration as a mirror of the Getty party in episode 1, the parallels drawn between the 3 Pauls and Salvatore-Primo-Francesco and how Primo reacts to being passed over as heir vs. how Paul Jr. reacts. Little Paul having two whole minutes of screen time and managing to break your heart with them. Regina! Just...Regina’s whole everything. The music going all-instrumental for an episode and having this haunting, dreamlike but still tense quality to it. And the fact that we never cut away from Calabria to another plotline gives the whole episode this hypnotic, all-encompassing quality. It’s just. SO GOOD!!!!

#fadagaski #asks answered #trust fx #long post #so so long omg #i can't believe how long i spent writing this but HERE IT IS #trust alternate watch order

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ocdriz · 3 years

Text

made an aelwyn & adaine playlist! it's supposed to go over their arc chronologically so if you listen try doing it in order. very long heartfelt explanation for song choices under a read more cause apparently i have many thoughts and i can't seem to be able to shut up

1. Before the World Was Big - girlpool

I just miss how it felt standing next to you Wearing matching dresses before the world was big My brain's like a rolling snowball, I'm a fire truck Trying not to think of all the ways, my mind has changed Mom and Dad, I love you, do I show it enough?

i stole this one from the opening of opening an excellent sam nightingale playlist that im listening to on repeat these days, but it fits here, too, so here you go.

i don't know whose pov this could be from- it works either way, really. their relationship with each other has always been broken, at least as far as we know, but this was maybe early enough to be able to miss a time where unconscious closeness was easier + at a time where they have both still hoped to get some love back from their parents, and they have both still tried to love them "right".

2. My Sister - Juliana Hatfield Three

I hate my sister, she's such a bitch She acts as if she doesn't even know that I exist But I would do anything to let her know I care But I am only talking to myself 'cause she isn't there I love my sister, she's the best She's cooler than any other girl that I have ever met She had the greatest band, she had the greatest guy She's good at everything and doesn't even try

from adaine's pov. when canon starts she already ostensibly hates aelwyn, and we know that she barely has any tolerable memory with her at all, but i am sure that at some point she still consciously looked up to her, admired her in spite of how much their situation put them one against the other. i like the contrast here. i hate my sister she is such a bitch. i love my sister, she's the best. hurts!

3. Warm Regards - Penelope Scott

I should be doing better, you've made that really clear I'm just so sad, it comes off as insincere I don't think it matters, matters to you There's always something more that I could do It doesn't even matter 'cause I don't wanna go To college or to heaven or to anywhere alone Nothing really matters from my point of view Sitting here and watching it unfold with you, you

this could honestly be from both of their povs in relation to their parent, which is its own kind of tragic. i'm sure they must have often felt the same fears.

i'm just so sad, it comes off as insincere feels more adaine, the kid who has obvious panic attacks and fights to hide it, than it does aelwyn, who was able to hide her pain in more effective ways (or manifest it through means that could have been passed off as something else). the line it doesn't even matter 'cause I don't wanna go to college or to heaven or to anywhere alone does hurt me though. they were both lonely and unable to reach out to each other.

4. Sorry About Your Parents - Icon For Hire

I'm sorry about your parents, they sound like bad people Your daddy sounds like a jerk I guess your mama didn't know the gift she got when she got you I'm sorry about your life, you had it pretty rough Bending over backwards, never good enough You poor thing, it must suck to be you And I know it's not your fault, it never is, is it?

this is one of the more angry, confrontational songs. ironic because they have the same parents + i think they could both sing it at each other. this first bit sounds more like adaine, but then this:

I get it, give me a little credit I remember when I was that pathetic Wear my scars on my sleeve, for all the world to see Like look what they did to me quick, lay on the sympathy thick You probably have the right to feel how you do You were mistreated and cheated out of the childhood you needed And now you'll never succeed if you're so convinced you're defeated If you're obsessed with your yesterday then you're destined to repeat it

could believably be aelwyn, too. enduring their parents' abuse on opposite sites of the fences probably meant that they both blamed each other for how they were handling it (in adaine's case) or tried framing it in a way that could lessen their own sense of guilt (in aelwyn's).

5. hot girl bummer - blackbear

And my friends are all annoying But we go dumb, yeah, we go stupid This that 10K on the table Just so we can be secluded And the vodka came diluted One more line, I'm superhuman Fuck you, and you, and you I hate your friends and they hate me too I'm through, I'm through, I'm through This that hot girl bummer anthem Turn it up and throw a tantrum

another angry song, aelwyn's pov. i don't know about you, but i am constantly thinking about the fact that she seemed to spend much of her time trying to essentially not think, and be under the influence of anything that could get her to feel okay. i think that her behaviour at the party in s1 was intended mostly as a twist and was partially there for shock value, but in retrospect it is, a lot to take in

6. Fetch the Bolt Cutters - Fiona Apple

I've been thinking about when I was trying to be your friend I thought it was then, but it wasn't, it wasn't genuine I was just so furious, but I couldn't show you 'Cause I know you and I know what you can do And I don't want a war with you, I won't afford it You get sore, even when you win And you maim when you're on offense But you kill when you're on defense And you've got them all convinced That you're the means and the end

I grew up in the shoes they told me I could fill When they came around, I would stand real still A girl can roll her eyes at me and kill I got the idea I wasn't real

adaine's pov. this is her breaking point in s1, when she finally has an alternative, a family who does love her, and so seems to give up on aelwyn and walk away from her. i don't have much to add but the lyrics are really good and i think they fit adaine well

7. This Is Love - Air Traffic Controller

Yeah, I know wrong, I know right But I just love to pick a fight I can sleep with one eye open If there's any sleep at night I got my knife, got my gun Let's see how fast you can run You might think that you can hurt me But the damage has been done It's pathetic, I know A jealous fool who won't let go If I was sorry for my actions Would I ever stoop so low? Got no reason to live And I've got nothing left to give you But my love, love, fuck it, this is love

aelwyn's pov. the entire song hurts with her in my mind, but it's essentially her response, her thesis statement. the lie she tells herself, the only love she thinks she can give and deserve. i love that it feels both proud and broken. but my love, love, fuck it, this is love. and yet, you might think that you can hurt me but the damage has been done. pain!

8. 7 O’Clock - Penelope Scott

I'll call her again, but she's a huge fucking ghost I fell for dead air 'cause it was all I could host And I'll cut up my shirts, and I'll sing in the rain It doesn't quite matter 'cause it all feels the same I don't want what I want, feels bad to feel good I'm made of bad code, I'm waterlogged wood Cry for the feeling, stay in bed for the fun A brand-new beginning and I'm already done The future is static, it drips on the floor And makes its way underneath my bedroom door A glitch in the game, I loop like a bug And all I ever died for was another tight hug

aelwyn's pov. this was the first song on the playlist and the reason i made it in the first place. this song is so snappy and sad at the same time, it really reminds me of her. and I'll cut up my shirts and I'll sing in the rain, it doesn't quite matter 'cause it all feels the same. i genuinely think that aelwyn was never really content, or happy or joyful. all she ever did was commit atrocities for adults who manipulated her, lie to herself all the time, and try to escape the aftermath by forgetting about all that could be forgotten. it must have been unbearable. i don't want what i want, feels bad to feel good. i'm made of bad code. all i ever died for was another tight hug. it hurts. it hurts!!

9. Bad Magic - Weyes Blood

Pretty bad magic Pretty tragic On a runaway train And I'm not going insane Things just don't stay the same And I must find a new way Make the best of death And love what's left You're not just a time bomb Just 'cause you went off Don't mean you're scattered Everywhere It's still there in the palms of your hands Just give it one more chance Don't wait to understand Just find a new way

still aelwyn's pov, this is where it all breaks down and she is trapped in the cell. the melody of this song is incredibly sad and the lyrics feel scattered and drag out, which- fits. i like that it's called bad magic, too. it's all very vulnerable. all defences are down, and this is what's left. this is how adaine finds her 10. The Good That Won’t Come Out - Rilo Kiley

All of the good that won't come out of me And all the stupid lies I hide behind It's such a big mistake Lying here in your warm embrace Oh, you're almost home I've been waiting for you to come in Dancing around in your old suits Going crazy in your room again I think I'll go out and embarrass myself By getting drunk and falling down in the street You say I choose sadness That it never once has chosen me Maybe you're right

aelwyn's pov, right after she is rescued and as she is found again and convinced to go back. the first bit fucking kills me, but lying here in your warm embrace especially so. ever think about how brennan specified that aelwyn cast shield on adaine as they slept? because i think about it all the time!!

after that, however, it shifts. you say I choose sadness, that it never once has chosen me, maybe you're right is her going back to her parents. i know that the song technically doesn't have that shift but i have elected to ignore that and have fun suffer

11. Conditions - Squirrel Flower

Don't look at me like that, like you'll kill me I can outrun you and I'll do it gracefully 'Cause I'm gentle but I can't move slowly Don't you dare say you do not know me

adaine's pov. some of the lyrics here don't fit but i like these ones so much that i put it in here anyway. this is after aelwyn goes back to her old self and adaine can tell that it isn't over, there's still something to fight for. she is still on the fence because aelwyn has hurt her and can still try. i can outrun you and i'll do it gracefully. and then it ends with a warning: don't you dare say you do not know me. don't you dare pretend this isn't happening, don't you dare lie again, to yourself or me.

12. Soap - Penelope Scott

There's all this dirt under my nails Wouldn't you like to see where I went to high school? Blood under my knuckles You should've heard the way I spoke last night

There is salt inside my mouth Sugar on my tongue Freckles on my cheeks From good old-fashioned west coast sun I feel so beaten up and bruised I don't know what I'm gonna do I can't keep anything at all From slipping through my wrecking claws

i'm sorry this is like the third penelope scott song in this playlist but i just think her songs fit aelwyn so well. this is essentially the aftermath of going back to her parents. don't know what else to add except [clutches chest] [cries a bit]

13. Fire - Kimya Dawson

He says he's protecting us but he's a liar I know deep down that it's down to the wire My heart will stop if I put out the fire As long as I'm burning I'll keep on yearning To save the world Not sure how but I'm learning And telling the truth the best way that I'm able Placing my cards all face up on the table It's okay to be scared, you do don't have to act tough Take all that pain and turn it into love

adaine's pov. this is her talking to aelwyn, telling her that there is a way out, that their dad says he is protecting them but he is a liar, and she is putting all of her cards on the table, asking her to listen, to believe.

14. Over and Over - Chris Garneau

Not my fault, you said so Oh, you said it over and over It’s not my fault, you said so Oh, you said it over and over And now I’m in this thing, this fucking thing I’m stuck over and over Yea, I’m in this thing, this fucking thing It’s happening over and over

aelwyn's pov. she is still scared and lost in this cycle of abuse and fear. again, not much to add, but it's a beautiful song

15. The Truth is A Cave - The Oh Hellos

I was bound I was bound and determined To be the child To be the child that you wanted And I was blind to every sign that you left for me to find And the truth became a tool, that I held in my hand And I wielded it but did not understand I was tired of giving more than you gave to me And I desired a truth I wouldn't have to seek But in the silence I heard you calling out to me

pain!! pain!! spekas for itself!! i was bound and determined to be the child that you wanted obviously about her parents, but then it shift (not sure the shift is in the actual song too which btw might be about jesus but we are gonna ignore that) and the you is adaine. but in the silence i heard you calling out to me.

16. Sister - Angel Olsen

All the colors I have seen I can't help but recognize The brighter one in front of me All the truth I thought I learned And then it finally came along Turned around and then it's there All the love I thought was gone I want to know you I want to show you I want to be there [...] Show me the future Tell me you'll be there I want to go where Nobody knows fear [...] You learn to take it as it comes You fall together, fall apart

this is aelwyn's answer, it's her saying yes. this song is so so beautiful. show me the future tell me you'll be there, given that adaine is literally an oracle literally kills me. i also love, all the colors i have seen i can't help but recognise the brighter one in front of me, given the way aelwyn tries to talk to adaine by telling her how much she admires her. thinks about adaine saying "i love you, too" when she has done talking. truly in tears!!

17. I Have Made Mistakes - The Oh Hellos

We have lived in fear We have lived in fear, and our fear has betrayed us We will overcome We will overcome the apathy that has made us Cause we are not alone We are not alone in the dark with our demons We have made mistakes We have made mistakes, but we've learned from them The sun, it does not cause The sun, it does not cause us to grow It is the rain that will strengthen The rain that will strengthen your soul It will make you whole

not much to add, just. healing! i really love we will overcome the apathy that has made us specifically. the idea that this new relationship between them has to matter. they have to care and move forward together

18. It's Alright - Mother Mother

It's alright, It's okay, it's alright, it's okay You're not a demon, there's a reason You behaved in that way It's alright, it's okay, it's alright, it's okay And I believe, yes I believe that you will see a better day

healing part. 2! again, not much to add. it's a nice song and every time i associate it to a new character it makes me cry

19. Fantastic Bastards - Death Spells

I hate everything I do 'Cause I learned it from you I'm your bastard But I'm not anything like you No, I'm fantastic! But I'm still not worth your time I'm so sick of covering up These blacks and blues and cuts 'Cause they're mine, to define But they don't Because I'm more than your worst I've finally had enough And I'm finally all grown up

more specifically aelwyn, but this is both of them going against their parents. because i'm more than your worst. it's an angry song and i think they deserve anger too

20. Up the Wolves - The Mountain Goats

There's bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet No matter where you live There'll always be a few things, maybe several things That you're going to find really difficult to forgive There's gonna come a day when you feel better You'll rise up free and easy on that day And float from branch to branch Lighter than the air Just when that day is coming, who can say? Who can say? Our mother has been absent ever since we founded Rome But there's going to be a party when the wolf comes home

the aftermath, for both of them. this is mostly about their parents, but there are some things that adaine won't be able to forgive aelwyn, too, and that's okay. it's natural. they have better days ahead, even if they can't escape their past

21. Worth It - Haley Heynderickx

Maybe I, maybe I've been selfish for these sounds Finally I'm ready for the silence Finally I'm out of this cloud Maybe I, maybe I've been selfish all along I guess you should know that That I don't need you there But I need you sometimes But not all the time, no I need you there [...] Maybe I, maybe I've been selfish Maybe I, maybe I've been selfless Maybe I, maybe I've been worthless Maybe I, maybe I've been worth it

final song, aelwyn's pov. i think it's hard to predict who aelwyn is going to be, because so much of her life has been a defence mechanism, but i think she will be worth the time trying to find it out. i love this song so much. i think it's gentle and sharp and i like that it made me think of her

and that's it! thank you for sticking around till now. i have a normal amount of feelings about these two and it's nice to share them

#dimension 20 #d20 #aelwyn abernant #adaine abernant #fantasy high #fantasy high season 2 #aelwyn & adaine #sometimes i talk #my playlists #abuse mention

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thelastspeecher · 4 years

Text

Spirit Touched - Chapter 2: Nuktuk

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 AO3

I got impatient and posted the second chapter. Here’s some more tiny Zuko for your soul. And a chance encounter...

Again, this fic is inspired by @muffinlance‘s fic Salvage and fanart that @agent-jaselin did of it.

——————————————————————————————

Zuko stood on the deck and breathed in deeply. The salty ocean air filled his lungs, bringing up the memories of the years he’d spent at sea, making him forget for a moment the cursed situation he was now in. He was forcibly reminded of his circumstances when he stepped forward and tripped over the still too long shirt he was wearing.

“Don’t worry, little prince,” Panuk said, “we’re going ashore today to get you some clothing.” Zuko got up into a sitting position. He crossed his arms.

“Great. More people to see me in this state.”

“Don’t worry, Nuktuk, no one’s going to think you’re anything but a regular toddler,” Toklo said, walking over to Zuko and picking him up.

“Don’t pick me up without asking first- wait, what did you call me?”

“Nuktuk. Isn’t it cute? It’s the name my parents almost gave me.”

“Why are you calling me by a Water Tribe name?” Zuko sighed. Toklo ruffled his hair, which had grown into a soft layer of black fuzz.

“Because as far as anyone in this town is concerned, you’re Water Tribe,” Hakoda said, walking over. “Specifically, a member of the Water Tribe named Nuktuk.”

“Why?” Zuko asked. To his chagrin, it came out as a whine, something that had been happening more and more often lately.

“A toddler on a Water Tribe ship won’t attract attention if that toddler is Water Tribe. It will attract attention if that toddler is Fire Nation,” Hakoda said. He took Zuko from Toklo. “You’ll be coming with me to get clothes.”

“Why do I even need to come ashore?” Zuko muttered.

“If I’m getting you clothes, I need to make sure they fit,” Hakoda said shortly, already marching off the ship, Zuko grumbling wordlessly in his arms.

-----

“He can wear that out,” the shopkeeper said to Hakoda. The shopkeeper nodded at Zuko standing nearby in typical green and brown Earth Kingdom clothes. “I saw what he was wearing when you brought him in.”

“Yeah, Nuktuk here tossed all his clothes overboard when no one was watching him.” Hakoda looked at Zuko. “What was the reasoning you gave for that, again?” Zuko crossed his arms and looked away, his mind racing. What would a child say?

“…I don’t know,” he finally mumbled, failing to come up with something. The shopkeeper chuckled.

“What a classic kid response. ‘I don’t know.’”

Apparently, that was the right answer.

“Thanks,” Hakoda said to the shopkeeper after he purchased Zuko’s new clothes. “Come on, Nuktuk.” Zuko followed Hakoda out of the store. Hakoda looked down at Zuko thoughtfully.

“…What?” Zuko asked.

“When Sokka and Katara were your age, they liked riding on my shoulders,” Hakoda remarked. Zuko scowled.

“I’m sixteen.”

“You’re four.”

“Hmph.” Zuko looked away. “…Are you offering to let me ride on your shoulders?” he asked after a moment.

“If you want,” Hakoda said with a shrug. Zuko’s desire to maintain dignity and his childish urges battled. The childish urges won out.

“…Yes,” he said quietly.

“All right.” Hakoda lifted Zuko and placed him on his shoulders. “Hold on.” Zuko grabbed fistfuls of Hakoda’s shirt. Hakoda began to walk.

From his vantage point on Hakoda’s shoulders, Zuko could see more than he had since the spirits cursed him like this. Actually, he could see more than he could even before he was cursed. It was refreshing to be able to see more than peoples’ legs. They walked past a young woman outside a flower shop.

“Sir?” the woman called. Hakoda stopped and turned to look at her. “Your son is very cute.” Zuko turned red. Hakoda chuckled.

“Thanks. All his mom.” The woman chuckled as well. Hakoda continued to walk.

They spotted Kustaa just as he was leaving an apothecary. Kustaa raised a silent eyebrow at the sight of Zuko on Hakoda’s shoulders. Zuko blushed again.

“Let me down,” he instructed Hakoda. Hakoda didn’t do anything. Zuko sighed. “Please.”

“Well, since you said the magic word…” Hakoda removed Zuko from his shoulders and set him on the ground.

“That was a wise move,” Kustaa said. “The town square is just over there, and you’d hate for anyone else on the crew to see you riding the Chief’s shoulders.”

“Hey, Nuktuk!” Toklo’s voice called. The men and Zuko looked over. Toklo stood in the square, waving something Zuko immediately recognized. “I got you those fire flakes you like!” Before the words had even left Toklo’s mouth, Zuko was running over. He bumped into someone, mumbled an apology, and kept running. Once he got to Toklo, he jumped up, trying to get the fire flakes from him. However, Toklo held them just out of reach.

“Don’t run off like that,” Hakoda scolded as he finally caught up to Zuko. Zuko ignored him in favor of continuing his attempts to get the fire flakes. Kustaa joined them as well.

“We should leave,” Kustaa said softly to Hakoda. “The men Zuko just bumped into were Fire Nation. They were out of uniform, but it was obvious what they were.”

“Thank you for letting me know,” Hakoda replied quietly. He raised his voice. “Toklo, stop playing keep away. You and Kustaa take Nuktuk back to the ship. I’ll wait for the others.”

“Why?” Zuko asked. He grabbed the fire flakes from Toklo and began to stuff them into his mouth happily.

“You’re going to have to take a nap soon,” Hakoda reminded him. Zuko scowled. Kustaa took Zuko’s hand and led him out of the square. Toklo trailed after them. Hakoda looked around, but didn’t spot the men Zuko had run into. He let out a sigh of relief as he sat on a rock to wait for the rest of the crew.

It’s a good thing Zuko didn’t attract any attention from the Fire Nation men. Who knows who they were, and what they would have done if they’d gotten a good look at him.

-----

“You see, Lieutenant Jee, when we enter the village not wearing our uniforms, we are treated much better,” Iroh said as they exited the tea shop with bags of blends recommended by the owner.

“Yes, you’re right,” Jee said with a slight nod. Like the rest of the crew of the Wani, he was treating Iroh gently after the loss of Zuko.

“Hey, Nuktuk!” a voice called. Iroh and Jee looked over. A young man, Water Tribe, judging by his appearance, stood in the town square with bags of food. The man waved a container of something that every Fire Nation child would recognize. “I got you those fire flakes you like!”

Promptly, a young boy, on the cusp of being called a child rather than a toddler, raced past Iroh and Jee, knocking into Iroh. A man rushed after the boy, who was presumably Nuktuk. Another man stopped in front of Iroh and Jee and smiled apologetically.

“Sorry that he ran into you. My nephew can be excitable,” the man said. Iroh chuckled.

“No need to apologize! My nephew was the same at that age,” he said jovially. The man inclined his head slightly and joined the rest of his companions in the square. All except Nuktuk were dressed in traditional Water Tribe attire.

“Rare to see Water Tribe around here,” Jee said softly. Iroh waved a hand.

“Leave them be. They’re clearly a family, probably refugees. Look at them.” The young man that had purchased fire flakes was holding them just out of reach of Nuktuk, making the boy jump for them. Iroh smiled. “They aren’t doing any harm.”

“Yes, sir,” Jee said. Iroh watched Nuktuk thoughtfully. “Sir?”

“That young boy…he’s been touched by the spirits.”

“How- how can you tell?”

“It sticks out all over him,” Iroh said, as if that answer made complete sense. He sighed. “It’s kind of the spirits to bless someone like him.”

“…A war bastard half-breed?” Jee asked. Even from this distance, it was obvious Nuktuk’s skin was too pale, his hair too dark, to be full Water Tribe. Iroh frowned at Jee.

“Yes. But perhaps it would be better to use kinder words when talking about a child,” he said firmly. Jee merely nodded in response. “We should board. We can’t keep Zhao waiting any longer.” The two men walked away, Iroh glancing at Nuktuk every now and then, his heart heavy with memories of Zuko and Lu Ten.

-----

Hakoda knew a toddler bursting with energy when he saw one. Usually, said toddler wouldn’t hesitate to expend that energy. But most toddlers weren’t teenagers two weeks ago.

“You look like you could use a chance to stretch your legs,” he remarked. Zuko, who had been fidgeting nonstop since breakfast, looked up. Once again, he had been assigned to work on nets with Tuluk, as that was the easiest chore for the former teenager, current toddler.

“I’m fine,” Zuko said. He wiggled in his seat, seemingly without realizing it. Tuluk poorly stifled a laugh. Zuko scowled at him. The trademark glare had been taking a gradual decline in efficacy for some time before the spirits intervened. Now that Zuko was a child, the expression only made him cuter.

“You’re more jittery than a polar bear-dog with new pups,” Hakoda said. Zuko wiggled again. “Luckily, you can run off some of that energy when we dock.”

“I’m not going ashore as a child again. The first time was humiliating enough,” Zuko muttered to his feeble netting knots. Hakoda sighed and sat next to him.

“Your current rules include doing what is necessary for someone your age. It’s not healthy to force a four-year-old to sit still for hours on end.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not being forced, then.”

“Are you sure?” Hakoda asked. Zuko eyed him.

“No one told me to sit still.”

“You did.” Zuko dropped his netting and cocked his head curiously. It was an expression to be expected from a toddler who didn’t understand how the world worked. It was less expected from Zuko, whose youthful appearance masked sixteen years of experience. “You’re forcing yourself to sit still.”

“But-”

“I admit, this is the first time I’ve seen a toddler task themselves with behaving so well,” Hakoda continued. “What I said still applies, however. Your body wants to run around, but you’re holding yourself in check.” Zuko picked up his netting again. He played with it.

“There’s not much room for running around on a boat, anyways,” he mumbled.

“Which is why you’re coming ashore.” Zuko scowled. “That’s an order.”

“…Yes, Chief.”

In Hakoda’s experience, a toddler forced to stay still for too long would release the pent-up energy in a potentially damaging way. The likelihood of something breaking went up drastically if that toddler was a bender. Hopefully, by letting Zuko run off the energy on land, they could avoid any firebending outbursts on their very flammable ship.

-----

A few hours later, the Akhlut docked. Under normal circumstances, they would wait longer in between stopping at ports. But as Hakoda watched Zuko toddle down the gangplank, he couldn’t ignore how painfully abnormal the current circumstances were.

“Are you coming?” Zuko asked once he was on solid ground. Hakoda was once again reminded of his own children; that might as well have come from Katara when she was four. He followed Zuko ashore. Zuko crossed his arms. “Now what?”

“Now we find an open place where you can run around,” Hakoda said, heading for the beach.

“How long am I expected to ‘run around’?”

“Generally speaking, children your age only stop when they use up all their energy and literally collapse.” Hakoda glanced at Zuko. “Given your situation, however, I’ll be fine with leaving once I notice you slowing down.” Zuko nodded reluctantly.

“Is anyone else coming?” he asked.

“No. We’re near General Fong’s base. He’s not that pleased with us, so I’m keeping the number of crew who might be spotted by his men to a minimum.”

“Not even Healer Kustaa?” Zuko asked. Disappointment shone in his voice.

“You’ll get to see him soon enough, don’t worry,” Hakoda replied. Zuko pouted. They continued their walk in silence.

They hadn’t been walking long when Hakoda began to pick up on the faint sound of children playing. He looked at Zuko out of the corner of his eye. Judging by how white his already pale skin had become, the firebender heard as well. They turned a corner.

“This looks like a good place,” Hakoda said. They had arrived at a slightly secluded cove filled with young children and mothers. The children, ranging from infants to a few years older than Zuko, chased each other across the sand, playing games Hakoda remembered from his own childhood.

“Good?” Zuko hissed, clearly scandalized. “There’s- there’s children here!”

“Yes, and you are one of them.” Hakoda put a hand on Zuko’s back. He gently pushed the boy forward. “Go play with your peers.”

“They’re not my-” A girl about Zuko’s age ran past, tapping Zuko on the shoulder.

“Tag!” she shouted. Zuko stared after her dumbly.

“Aren’t you going to play tag?” Hakoda prompted. Zuko looked down at his feet. “Do you know what tag is?”

“…No.”

“It’s a chasing game. Whoever is ‘it’ tries to touch someone. If they touch someone, that new person is ‘it’.”

“Oh.” Zuko remained where he stood. The girl that tagged him came back over.

“Are you gonna play?” she asked. Zuko opened and closed his mouth silently.

“Yes, he will,” Hakoda interjected. “But he’s a bit shy and he’s never played tag before. Would you help him, please?” The girl beamed, showing off a gap-toothed smile.

“Yeah!” She looked at Zuko. “What’s your name?”

“Nuktuk,” Zuko mumbled. The girl giggled.

“That’s a funny name. C’mon, Nuktuk!” She grabbed Zuko’s hand and pulled him away from Hakoda, towards the energetic children.

Hakoda watched for a few minutes, ready to intervene if Zuko was too out of his element. But as he’d seen happen before, Zuko slipped into childish behaviors easily. Hakoda took a seat near the group of mothers keeping an eye their children, nodding politely at them before resuming watch of Zuko.

Watching the former Fire Prince run with the other toddlers, the dull headache Hakoda had since that morning began to fade. There was nothing to indicate that Zuko was different from his peers. All Hakoda saw was a young boy enjoying himself. The rare sight was enough to make him smile.

-----

Zuko played for much longer than Hakoda expected. Most people had left the play area by the time the young firebender called it quits. Hakoda quickly got rid of his smile as Zuko trod over, rubbing his eyes.

“Done?” he asked. Zuko let out a yawn and nodded. “You looked like you had a good time out there.”

“Yeah,” Zuko mumbled sleepily.

“Maybe you should try to run around the deck every now and then?” Hakoda probed. Zuko yawned again. “It won’t be as fun as today, but it’s better than nothing. And we can’t just land whenever you need to blow off some steam.” Zuko merely nodded. “Would you like to ride on my shoulders back to the ship?”

“Yes, please, sir,” Zuko said. His voice was thick with sleep. Hakoda lifted the tired toddler, gently placing him on his shoulders. Zuko grabbed handfuls of his shirt and leaned against Hakoda’s neck and head. Hakoda headed for the way they came.

Quickly, Hakoda stopped trying to make conversation with Zuko during the walk back to the ship. All questions received significantly delayed single word answers. Just as he caught sight of the Akhlut, Zuko began to snore. Hakoda chuckled. His buoyant mood vanished, however, as he neared the ship. Two Earth Kingdom soldiers stood by the gangplank, speaking with Bato.

“Is there a problem?” Hakoda asked upon arrival. The soldiers looked over at him, then at Zuko. Hakoda raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“We were wondering why your ship was docked and didn’t seem to be picking up supplies,” the shorter of the two soldiers said.

“I was trying to explain to them that we didn’t need supplies,” Bato said. He frowned at the soldiers. “Which shouldn’t merit a visit from the Earth Kingdom Military.”

“You’re near an important base. We have to be careful with foreign ships,” the short soldier replied.

“Our ship is clearly from the Water Tribe,” Bato snapped.

“Fire Nation soldiers could have captured a Water Tribe ship,” the short soldier said with a shrug.

“No self-respecting Fire Nation soldier would pretend to be Water Tribe,” Hakoda scoffed. The four-year-old proof he was lying let out a loud snore. Hakoda removed Zuko from his shoulders, carefully, so as to not wake him up. “We had to stop so that Nuktuk could spend some time ashore. It’s not good for someone his age to be at sea nonstop.”

“Why do you have a half-breed child on your warship?” the taller soldier asked, speaking for the first time. Hakoda stiffened. Before he could respond, Bato came to “Nuktuk’s” defense.

“Don’t call him that,” Bato said shortly.

“He is, though. Anyone with half a brain could tell he’s part Fire Nation,” the tall soldier argued back.

“His parentage isn’t important,” Hakoda said, trying to keep a level tone. “Nuktuk is Water Tribe.” The soldiers exchanged doubtful looks. “To answer your question, he’s the lone survivor of his village. We stumbled across him as we left the South Pole.”

“Why haven’t you dropped him off somewhere?” the short soldier asked. “It’s not safe for a child to be aboard a warship.”

“We haven’t had a chance to visit a Water Tribe village since we picked him up.”

“The Earth Kingdom has plenty of orphanages,” the short soldier said.

“We wouldn’t leave a Water Tribe child in an Earth Kingdom orphanage,” Bato said. “He deserves to grow up among his people.”

“Should’ve left him in the Fire Nation, then,” the tall soldier muttered. Bato glared.

“Are you going to let us board our ship and leave?” Hakoda asked before things could continue to spiral. “Nuktuk needs to be put to bed.” The soldiers exchanged another look.

“Fine,” the short one sighed. The two soldiers walked away. Once they were out of earshot, Bato turned to Hakoda.

“What took you so long?”

“He had more energy than I thought,” Hakoda replied. Zuko shifted slightly in his arms. “He really needed this.”

“I can tell.” Bato went up the gangplank, Hakoda close behind. “Did the two of you enjoy yourselves?”

“Him more than me. Though it was entertaining to watch him learn common games.”

“You found some children his age?” Bato asked. Hakoda nodded.

“Other than not knowing what tag was, he fit right in with them, too.”

“Of course he didn’t know what tag was,” Bato muttered. Hakoda snorted. “What?”

“I can see right through you, Bato. You’re getting soft on Zuko, just like the rest of us.”

“…Maybe I am,” Bato conceded. “But if I am, it’s only because he reminds me of Sokka.” Bato’s eyes widened. “Oh! Speaking of Sokka, apparently the Avatar’s sky bison passed over the base not long ago, likely on their way to the North Pole.”

“Really?”

“Yes. The soldiers mentioned it while they were trying to strong-arm me.”

“At least they didn’t stop. I would hate to have missed them.”

“I don’t know about that,” Bato said after a moment. Hakoda eyed him. “How do you think we’d explain ‘Nuktuk’ to them?”

“The same way I explained it to the soldiers.”

“Katara and Sokka would see right through it.” Bato ruffled Zuko’s short, fuzzy hair. “Kid doesn’t know how to act like he’s Water Tribe. Or how to act like he’s a normal toddler.”

“Fair enough.” Hakoda and Bato came to a stop outside the infirmary. “Who knows how Zuko would react to seeing them, anyways?”

“Probably with his first temper tantrum.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me he’s at that age,” Hakoda muttered. Bato let out a bark of laughter. “Tell the crew to cast off.”

“You got it.” Bato strolled away. Hakoda ducked inside the infirmary. Kustaa took the sleeping toddler from him.

“You really tired him out,” Kustaa remarked. “What did you do, practice hand-to-hand combat with him?”

“No. He just…ran around like a kid.” Kustaa looked at him inquisitively. “We found a group of children his age. After they taught him how to play their games, he played with them. It was like he was a normal toddler.”

“Hmm.” Kustaa set Zuko down in his pile of furs, then pulled out a scroll. He scribbled something on it. “I’m keeping a log of each time Zuko acts his current age.”

“Do you think that might help return him to normal, or at least figure out how the spirits did this to him?”

“It might,” Kustaa said with a shrug. He put the scroll away. “I’m trying to collect as much information as I can. Some of it might be helpful, most of it probably won’t be. But we’re in uncharted waters, Chief. I can’t risk deciding a piece of information wasn’t relevant enough to be noted. It might end up crucial.” Kustaa gently tucked Zuko in, covering him with the blanket he’d worn around the ship before getting better clothes. “Hopefully, we’ll come across a waterbending healer at some point.” The healer looked up, meeting Hakoda’s eyes squarely. “As far as I can tell, that’s the only way we might be able to return Zuko from a grumpy toddler to a grumpy teenager.”

“That’s the only way?”

“Well, there is the possibility that the spirits might decide to stop this test or punishment or whatever it is. But that’s a very slim chance.” Hakoda nodded.

“I’d agree with that. Tell him to find me when he wakes up. I’ll give him a new task to do until dinner.”

“Depending on how much you wore him out,” Kustaa said, “he might not wake up before then. But if he does, I’ll send him your way.”

Hakoda exited the infirmary, only to be promptly accosted by Toklo.

“Chief, did Zuko really play with a bunch of other kids?” Toklo asked, starry-eyed.

“Yes.”

“Aw, man! I wish I was there! I bet it was adorable.”

“…It was,” Hakoda said after a moment. Toklo groaned loudly. A weight settled in Hakoda’s stomach. With the chaos of Zuko being touched by the spirits, Hakoda hadn’t had time to tell Toklo about his brother. He hated to ruin Toklo’s good mood. But he couldn’t delay it any longer. “We need to talk,” he said softly, putting a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“We do?”

“Yes. Come with me.”

-----

Zuko sat next to the mast, his arms crossed, desperately trying to stay awake. He didn’t need to go to bed as early as the Chief kept forcing him to, and he was determined to prove it. His eyes drooped closed. When someone sat next to him, he snapped his eyes open again. He looked at the person joining him.

“Oh. Hello, Toklo.” Toklo nodded. He was visibly shaken. Zuko cocked his head, confused and concerned. “Are…are you all right?” he asked finally.

“…No, little prince. I’m not.”

“Oh.” Zuko placed his annoyingly minute hands in his lap and looked down at them. “Why?” Maybe it had something to do with why Toklo didn’t join everyone else for dinner. Toklo never passed up the chance to have Zuko sit in his lap while they ate.

“Did you know?” Toklo asked quietly, drawing Zuko out of his thoughts.

“Know what?”

“About my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“Yeah. And he’s- he’s-” Toklo’s face contorted. “The Fire Nation captured him,” he said in a thick voice. Zuko’s heart plummeted. “They tortured him and then they- they killed him.”

“I- I-” Zuko was at a loss for words. He looked around for some guidance. Everyone on deck was determinedly not watching them. He swallowed and put his hand over Toklo’s. “I’m sorry.” Toklo choked back a sob. “Do you- do you want to go somewhere less out in the open?” he asked finally. He couldn’t stand the idea of Toklo losing any dignity over this. Toklo nodded and stood. Zuko got up as well. He took Toklo’s hand and led him belowdeck.

Those on the deck waited a reasonable time before going down as well. The first to stumble across Toklo and Zuko was Panuk. They were curled up in Toklo’s hammock, Toklo holding onto Zuko the same way Zuko had held Seal Jerky the first day of being spirit touched.

“Should we move him?” Panuk asked Kustaa.

“He’ll be fine for now. The first time he gets up to pee, he’ll go to the infirmary,” Kustaa said with a shrug. Panuk looked at him.

“The first time?”

“Oh, he’s been waking me up at least twice each night so that I can take him to the latrine.” Kustaa snorted softly. “At least we don’t have to get dressed and then walk through the snow in the dark like back home.”

“Yeah.” Something contemplative flashed across Panuk’s face. “Zuko wouldn’t be happy if he had to do that.” He watched Zuko and Toklo sleeping. Kustaa finally sighed.

“I’m going to get one last thing to eat before bed. Do you want anything?” he asked. Panuk shook his head. “All right. Sleep well, kid.”

“There’s an actual child on the ship, and you’re still going to call me ‘kid’?” Panuk asked. Kustaa chuckled.

“Look on the bright side. At least you don’t have people mothering you like Zuko does.”

#ATLA #Zuko #Hakoda #Bato #(not tagging muffinlance and jase bc they're @ed)#(also I still don't know how to tag the various OCs whoops)#Spirit Touched #my writing #my stuff #fanfiction #speecher speaks

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princess-of-riviaa · 4 years

Text

4 Months

Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Requested prompt: Hi. Could you do a ransom drysdale x reader fic. I had a prompt in mind but you can do whatever you want. Prompt- Ransom hooks up with a girl and she ends up pregnant. She knows about his tendencies to sleep around and she knows he won't commit so she doesn't tell him and then Ransom finds out.

This ones for you @suppu97

Author’s note: Just because I can’t contain myself I’m going to include some Ransom feels and fluff, because we all know that trust fund playboy has a soft side to him. Smut isn’t until later in the story. Also, Ransom isn’t doing anything the reader doesn’t want him to do to her. This isn’t dub con or rape. If she asked him to stop he would have.

Warning(s): Ransom being an asshole disguised as a decent human being, rough sex, choking, thigh riding, dub con (but not really), dom! Ransom, oral (f/m receiving), angst, poison, miscarriage

It happened at the dinner party. Your family had been longtime family friends with the Thrombeys--that was how you’d met Ransom all those years ago and become distant friends with him--and you frequently were invited to their house for a get together.

You’d found out the news three months ago, but luckily only had a small bump, so you were able to fit into your favorite red cocktail dress. Only once you stood in the foyer of the Thrombey’s house and felt a familiar pair of eyes on you from the living room did you remember: this was the dress you had worn two months ago, the night of your one night stand with Ransom.

The maid took yours and your parents’ coats and you thanked her with a warm smile before walking into the living room. The Thrombey’s were already at each other’s throats, arguing over something political. You didn’t really process what they were saying though. All you could think of was those cold blue eyes on you, no doubt giving you a good eye fuck right now. You didn’t dare look in his direction over by the fireplace. You’d managed to think about Ransom as little as possible in the last three months and you weren’t going to let him get under your skin tonight.

After an exchange of superficial “how are you?”s and “it’s so good to see you again”s, Everyone began their trek to the dining room. You put a hand on your stomach as you followed everyone to the next room. It had become a nervous habit within the last month. Every time you felt even slightly nervous, you put a hand on your stomach and remembered that you weren’t alone.

You were suddenly very aware of a warm, masculine body pressed up against your back. “I see you wore my dress,” he breathed into your ear.

You’d be lying if you said that his voice didn’t have an affect on you. Wetness pooled between your legs as he growled softly in your ear and you had to clamp your mouth shut to keep from sighing in pleasure.

“I didn’t wear it for you,” you tell him without even glancing at him. “I wore it for me.”

You didn’t have to look back to know Ransom was rolling his eyes. He hated that you stood your ground against him; hated it almost as much as he loved it. According to him, he loved a good challenge, and you’d been very challenging ever since you met him. You’d made him work to get you in bed that night--

That night that you wouldn’t let yourself think about.

You shook your head and took a seat at the table. Ransom, of course, took a seat directly across from you, making sure you couldn’t evade him for the night. Wine and champagne were offered, though you politely declined both. You didn’t speak throughout the entire meal. Three bites into your steak, you felt your stomach rising.

You excused yourself before running out of the room and to the downstairs bathroom. You’d barely made it to the toilet before the contents of everything you’d eaten that day came rushing back up. Once you had wiped your mouth off, you noticed Ransom standing in the doorway. You glanced at him briefly. He looked like he wanted to punch the wall, or throw up, too. Maybe both.

“You turned down the drinks,” was all he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Ransom...” You flushed the toilet and closed the lid.

“You’re practically an alcoholic,” he said, walking further into the bathroom. “I’ve known you since we were kids and I’ve never seen you turn down a drink. And then you can’t keep your food down?”

You took a seat on top of the toilet and breathed deeply, trying to stop the pounding in your head. The first trimester had been hell. You’d been sick nearly every day and you’d been alone through it all. Your parents would disown you if they found out you were having a child out of wedlock. And the idea of Ransom offering any help was laughable.

“You’re pregnant.” He said it like it was a death sentence, like you’d somehow betrayed him.

You forced yourself to look up at him and meet his cold, hard gaze. “Yes. I’m pregnant.”

“Whose is it?” He questioned.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to. He knew the answer before he’d even asked the question. He’d been your first--and last--romantic partner.

“Are you keeping it?” His tone was cold, like he was discussing an annoying bug crawling over his shoe, and you wanted to hit him for it.

“No.” You couldn’t bring yourself to explain further.

“Well you should hurry up on that because we fucked--what? Three months ago? I don’t know the time range on abortions but the sooner the better.”

You rose to your feet and your head became heavy. You leaned against the wall to keep from passing out. “I’m not aborting, Ransom.”

“But you said--”

“I’m putting the baby up for adoption.”

He watched you like he was waiting for you to say this was all a joke. “I’m assuming your parents don’t know.”

You were quiet.

“They’ll kick you out as soon as you start getting fat,” he pointed out.

“I know.” It took all the strength inside of you to keep from breaking down. You were dreading that day more than anything. The mere thought of it put knots in your stomach. But you weren’t about to lose it in front of Ransom. That would just be one more thing for him to at you for.

“Do you have a place to go?” he asked.

You scoffed at him. “Don’t act like you actually care, Ransom. You’re not fooling either of us.”

“Keeping it will just cause a million problems for you,” he said. “Getting rid of it now--”

“I’m not aborting!” You shouted at him, then gasped when you realized the bathroom door was wide open. You prayed no one had heard you. “I’m not killing this child, Ransom. I’ve already made up my mind about it.”

He opened his mouth to make another asshole remark, but you beat him to it.

“Don’t worry. I’m not expecting you to have anything to do with the baby, or me for that matter.”

“If you’re worried about the money, I can give you something for the clinic.”

You wanted to slap him. “I have stayed by your side through everything. All the shit you’ve pulled since you were a kid--I was there, and I was by your side. But I swear, Ransom Drysdale, if you make one more comment about aborting this child I will leave you.”

He laughed. “Leave me? We’re not together.”

“I’m your best friend. Hell, I’m your only friend. And for how much you pretend to not care, I know you’re just as terrified as the rest of us about ending up alone. And without you me you have no one. So shut up about the goddamn abortion.”

He didn’t say anything, which was both good and bad you supposed. You both stood there in silence for a long time. And then he walked towards you. Before you realized what he was doing his hand was on your stomach, feeling the warm life inside of you. You watched as his expression slowly morphed from disgust to... was that pride?

“That’s my kid,” he whispered. He looked up at you, and you could have sworn you saw a hint of tears in his eyes.

You simply said, “It’s our kid.”

...

Ransom began making daily trips to your house after that. He claimed he was just there to steal your dad’s cufflinks, or because your family had a better selection of liquor than his did, or that he just couldn’t be near his family for one more second and your house had the second nicest TVs in the city. But he’d always "forget” some food or clothes after he left, and you knew they were for you. It became obvious once he started bringing over pregnancy books.

It warmed your heart, you had to admit. This was Ransom trying. This was Ransom when he cared: sweet, but never willing to openly admit it. It was more than you’d expected from him.

At the end of your fourth month, you started to show noticeably. On a random day in the first week of that month, Ransom showed up and charged into your room. He packed a suitcase of your clothes without even bothering to explain what was going on.

“Ransom...?” It was late, past ten in the evening. Was he drunk? Was he high?

“Are your parents home?” was all he said in response.

“Y-yes.” You were thoroughly freaked out. Was he trying to kidnap you?

“Do they know yet?” He asked as he zipped up your suitcase.

You shook your head. They were still oblivious, though you imagined any day now they would pop the question.

Ransom took your bag with half of your belongings inside and ran down the stairs. You followed him. Your parents came out of the living room and frowned, looking between you and Ransom. You were just as confused as them.

“It’s good to see you, Rans--” Your dad began, but Ransom interrupted him.

“We don’t have time to waste and act like we all care about each other,” he spat. “I’m taking your daughter with me.”

You frowned and gaped at him. Where exactly was he taking you?

“You can’t do that!” Your mother cried.

“She’s nineteen, so she can do whatever the hell she wants, including getting away from her freakish family.” Ransom grabbed your hand and pulled you out the front door with him.

He threw your suitcase in the back of his Mustang before you both hopped in. Ransom sped off, leaving a gust of dirt where your parents stood on the porch, watching you run off.

“What the hell are you doing? And why did you talk to my parents like that?”

“Don’t act like you’ve never wanted to say that to them,” he laughed.

“Ransom!” Your tone revealed your anger and nonexistent patience for him to explain himself.

“You’ll see when we get there.”

You waited, but he said nothing else. You hated Ransom Drysdale sometimes.

...

It turned out that he was taking you to his parents’ beach house. It was the middle of December, so they wouldn’t be visiting anytime soon. It would be just you, Ransom, and the maid he’d brought from his house in the city. Ransom didn’t have to spell it out for you: this was where you could stay until you had the baby.

You loved Ransom Drysdale sometimes.

He found you in the foyer, resisting the urge to cry. “It’s just a house,” he said. “Not even an impressive one at that.”

You couldn’t help yourself. You pulled him in for a tight hug. Tears slipped down your face and onto his sweater. “I’m sorry. It’s the baby hormones. They’ve turned me into a crazy person.”

“You were already crazy before,” he replied as he gave you a one-armed hug.

You pulled back. You’d forgotten that Ransom despised hugs. “Sorry.”

You let yourself take him in--really take him in--for the first time in four months. He wore an old, light blue sweater that made the color of his eyes pop. His cheeks were red from the cold wind outside, almost as red as his mouth.

You remembered that mouth on your nipples, sucking on them until he made you cum.

You swallowed, then forced an awkward chuckle. “These baby hormones are really getting to me.” You tried to walk past him but he stopped you.

Suddenly you were between him and the wall. He stared down at you like he wanted to eat you up. The look alone made your mouth go dry and your toes curl.

“Ransom--” You began, but didn’t have the strength to finish.

“You’re having my child,” he breathed before bending down to tug on your earlobe. “You have no idea what that does to me, knowing my seed is growing inside of you. The thought of it gets me so hard, baby.”

Thoughts from that night came flooding back to you:

Ransom, daring to think he could beat you at a drinking game.

Ransom, kissing you five shots in, and both of you realizing that this exactly what you’ve wanted for years now.

You, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to his room, your mouths never parting from each other.

You, sucking him off until he came in your mouth and you swallowed every last drop. (You can still remember the taste of him.)

Ransom, eating you out until you came around his fingers, in his mouth, until your entire body was shaking with overstimulation. (You can still remember how sinful he felt.)

Ransom, fucking into you as you screamed for him to pound into you harder, faster, and him choking you until you both came. (You can still remember the sound of his groans.)

Now, four months later, you weren’t exactly surprised to find you wanted him just as desperately as you had that night.

“Ransom,” you whimpered without even meaning to.

His hand came up to wrap around your throat, giving it just a hint of a squeeze, and you closed your eyes in pleasure. “Tell me you want it, baby. Beg me to fuck you like I did that night. I know you still want it. I bet you even dream about it, about my hands all over your body, making you feel better than any man ever has or ever will. I bet you dream about my cock deep inside of you, fucking the life out of you until you come all over me.”

You fisted your hand in his sweater and pulled his mouth down to yours. He kissed you sloppily, hungrily, and you moaned into his mouth.

“I wanna hear you beg to have me inside of you,” he breathed into your mouth.

You wanted to give in right then and there, but your pride had already been damaged enough by this man. So you pushed him away and said, “I don’t beg.”

He smirked. “I can change that.”

And suddenly his knee was prying open your legs. He pressed his leg against your core and applied just enough pressure to make you moan. He watched in delight as your eyes rolled back and your mouth parted. Your hips automatically began rubbing against him. He flexed his thigh, adding even more pressure to your dripping pussy.

A second later you felt his hand on your shirt, slowly making its way up to your breasts. He cupped them tightly over your shirt and bra. He knew your pain always turned into pleasure, and right now you were basking in it.

“Still don’t want to beg me?” he asked.

It was a struggle for you to even concentrate on speaking, but finally you said, “N-no. I’m not begging, Ransom.” You sighed blissfully when you said his name and you felt his cock twitch against his thigh.

He growled, growing frustrated, and led you to the living room. He pushed you onto the couch before climbing over you and unbuttoning your jeans. You rested your hand on your stomach, waiting for him to touch you again. He had your jeans and underwear off in a matter of seconds. You watched him bunch up your underwear and smell it, and the dark look on his face made you press your legs together, needing pressure.

“Only I get to make you feel good, baby,” he said before pushing your legs apart and kissing up the inside of your thighs.

You whimpered as he made his way to your pussy, only to caress it with a warm breath. Your walls clenched around nothing. The mere pressure of his breath was enough to make you buck your hips up. He laughed at the sight of you writhing under him before moving onto your next leg and kissing his way up your thigh, starting just above the knee. His mouth stopped just above your pussy again and you whimpered.

“You should see how you look right now,” he said, his voice deep and dark. “All wound up and I haven’t even touched you properly let.”

“Shut up, Ran--”

And then his mouth was on your pussy, his tongue lapping up the juices between your folds. Your hands instantly went down to his hair. You bucked your hips up every time he pulled his tongue away from your pussy. Eventually it annoyed him enough to make him hold you down by your hips. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to.

“Ransom...” you whined.

You hated begging, but god did this man know how to use his tongue. He opened his eyes as his tongue circled your clit and you fought against the hands holding you down. You needed more. You needed him.

“Fuck!” You cried out as he buried his tongue inside of you, licking you like a lollipop.

“I’m gonna...” you struggled to get out. “Ransom, I’m gonna cum!”

He pulled out of you and rose to his feet, hovering over you. His lips were swollen and pink. Your juices dripped from his mouth. That and the sight of his messed up hair was enough to make you cave.

“Please, Ransom,” you whined. “I need you to fuck me.”

He smirked. “I know you do, baby. Go up to my room. You better be naked and on my bed when I get up there.”

You didn’t argue, barely remembering to grab you pants before moving up the stairs and going to his room. You hadn’t been to his family’s beach house since the summer you were 15. So many things had changed since then, but not how you felt for Ransom. You wanted him as much as you couldn’t stand him.

You took your shirt and bra off and put them on a chair in the corner. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the dresser mirror. You were tall and thin, except for your round belly. It was still crazy to you to think that you had a life growing inside of you--that it was Ransom’s child growing inside of you.

The sound of footsteps made your heart race and you climbed onto the king-sized bed before wrapping the white sheets around you. Ransom gave a disappointed frown when he walked in and noticed you.

“Did I say you could cover up?” he asked in a dominant tone that made your toes curl.

You glanced down at the sheets around you.

He stopped at the foot of the bed right in front of you. “Baby, I don’t want you covering up for me.” He yanked the sheets away from you before taking you in in all your glory.

“What were you doing downstairs?” you wondered as he began unbuckling his pants. It was a little embarrassing that your mouth actually watered at the thought of you tasting Ransom’s cock.

“Telling the maid not to come in here,” he answered, “no matter how loud I make you scream.”

A breath caught in your throat as he stepped out of his pants and underwear. His cock was already hard, the tip hard and wet with his precum. You took in the thick vein that ran along the side of it and the way it curved just the slightest bit.

“You better suck me dry, baby,” was all he needed to say before you had him in your mouth.

You kissed your way around his tip before licking a stripe up the side of his cock. He groaned as you teased his tip with gentle kitten licks. That only lasted a few seconds before he fisted a handful of your hair and pushed his cock all the way into your back. He hit the back of your throat and you almost choked before adjusting to his size. Your hands played with his balls as you sucked him off. He began fucking your face and you let him, doing your best not to choke every time he reached the back of your throat. You felt him grow impossibly bigger in your more and you knew he was seconds away from coming. A part of you was perfectly fine with him coming in your mouth--you wanted to taste his seed again so bad--but he pulled out at the last second.

You looked up at him.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk,” he promised. Then he pushed you back and climbed over you.

You spread your legs for him, both of you watching as he slid the tip of his cock inside of you. You both groaned at how tight you were. He slid the rest of his length into you slowly, careful not to hurt you. You wrapped your legs around him once he bottomed out.

His mouth found your breasts and he sucked hard on your left nipple while his hand pinched the other one. You threw your head back, letting yourself bask in the ecstasy of everything Ransom was giving you. His cock moved inside of you at a pace you couldn’t keep up with and you could feel the knot in your stomach forming, signaling that you were close. His mouth on your nipples brought just the right amount of pain that you craved. He had you screaming in pleasure in no time.

“You’re so tight around me baby, taking my cock like such a good little slut,” he said as he rose to his knees. His cock adjusted inside of you and began hitting you from a different angle. He hit your g-spot with each thrust. “Scream for me, baby. I want the maid to know who you belong to.”

You gripped the sheets in a knuckle-white grip as your mouth parted in a silent scream. You were so close to coming. “Ransom!” You screamed. That was all you could get out before you came, your walls clenching his cock even tighter.

He continued thrusting into you fast and hard, but it was only a few more thrusts before he was coming too. His seed was warm inside of you as it mixed with your own.

Ransom pulled out of you and lied beside of you. You fell asleep like that, both of you naked and side by side, though never daring to move close enough to hold each other.

...

The sun was shining through the windows when you woke up the next morning. You stumbled into the bathroom and began to rub the sleep from your eyes once you returned to the bedroom. Ransom was still asleep. You paused, letting yourself take in the sight of him. He was peaceful when he slept. His signature scowl wasn’t there, and his face was beautiful enough to look like an angel.

You laughed to yourself. Ransom Drysdale was about as far from an angel as anyone could get. You were still smiling when you walked over to your side of the bed and pulled back the covers--

And screamed.

Blood. So much blood. It stained most of the sheets and no doubt had seeped into the mattress too. A horrifying thought struck you, and you brushed a fingers between your legs to find something wet and sticky. Your finger was coated in blood when you looked back at it.

“Ransom...” You whispered, your voice barely audible even to your own ears.

He didn’t stir.

“Ransom!” You cried. this time your voice echoed throughout the room.

He only moved to bury his face into his pillow. “Leave me alone, it’s like seven in the morning.”

“The hospital,” you said, feeling yourself go into shock. “I need--the hospital.”

Finally Ransom opened his eyes. He jumped when he saw the blood-stained bed. He got to his feet before noticing your bloody hand, which you still couldn’t stop staring at in horror. He dressed himself and threw something on you, but all you could see or think about was the blood.

So much blood.

Too much blood.

...

Five hours later, you were in a hospital bed. The doctors had left you alone long ago, taking your dead fetus with them. They said the formal term for it was intrauterine fetal demise. The baby had been growing normally and then just... stopped. They said the baby had been dead for some time, at least a day.

Ransom was out in the hall. You’d asked him to leave when you felt yourself begin to cry. There was nothing he could have done to comfort you.

You heard him now, pacing outside your door and talking to someone on the phone. “...it worked,” he was saying. “That biocide was fucking expensive but it worked.”

Biocide.

Poison.

“Yeah, Dad,” Ransom continued into the phone. “I’ve been giving it to her for a month now. It’s been in all the food.”

It’s been in all the food.

You stopped breathing.

He’d been so set on you killing the baby. And then he’d just... given in. He’d accepted what you wanted and gone with it, even though he hadn’t wanted it, too. Ransom never gives in. Ransom always gets what he wants.

Ransom had poisoned you.

Ransom had killed your baby.

You began to scream, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop.

#ransom drysdale #knives out #ransom thrombey x you #ransom thrombey fanfic #ransom thrombey imagine #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey smut #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction

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ot3-watch · 3 years

Text

Episode 3: The Wedding Job

And so we begin the “The Network Fucked Up” saga with episode 7 which is SUPPOSED to be episode 3.

Huge men drinking out of tiny teacups is hilarious and will never stop being so.

Nate, stop being such a control freak. “I thought I pick the clients” DUDE CHILL

“No more, no less” honey you getting much more

“We’ll get back to you” FUCK YOU NATE

PARKER LOVES KIDS EPISODE 1

NATE IF YOU HAD FOUND THIS CASE YOU’D TAKE IT IN AN INSTANT YOU’RE JUST MAD YOU DIDN’T FIND IT

FBI!!! TAGGERT AND MCSWEETEN!! AHH OKAY I LOVE THEM

“They just need validation” BITCH ME TOO THE FUCK

TODAY IN THEY MAKE PEOPLE LOOK UNNECESSARILY STUPID

Hardison is so gregarious it’s so amazing to watch

“I don’t have to type anything right” oh my god

TAPES! “HARDISON HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WALK OUT OF THE FBI OFFICES WITH A BOX FULL OF TAPES?” “pUNCH someBODY!” “oh I’m gonna PUNCH SOMEBODY” God i love them

Jersey Boys I can’t, it’s terrible guys. Do mobsters have no taste

Oh look, it’s that woman who’s in EVERYTHING

What is Parker wearing on her head

Everyone talks about bridezillas, but no one talks about mother of the bridezillas.

WHY DIDN’T THEY HIRE A WEDDING PLANNER IN THE FIRST PLACE

SOPHIE FOCUSING ON HER PERSONAL PROBLEMS WITH NATE INSTEAD OF THE JOB EPISODE 1

ELIOT THE CHEF EPISODE 1

HOLY SHIT I LOVE HIM

ELIOT GETTING TOO ATTACHED TO HIS COVER STORY AND FORGETTING ABOUT THE JOB EPISODE 1

He’s so mad that she doesn’t like it I lovehim I LOVE HIM I FUCKING LOVE ELIOT SPENCER

“Imagine if we had bugs planted all over the house” WHY THE FUCK DON’T YOU

How the fuck is the dress so ugly? WHY IS THAT WHAT THEY WANT? WHO WEARS PINK RUCHED SATIN WITH BLUE FLOWERS

I mean, other than, like, me @6 years old. But really, no one should be wearing the clothes I wore at 6 years old.

Also it’s just.. the worst length. Like if it was a long dress it might be better.

Nate the pastor episode 1

God that future son in law seems like a dream guy I love him

Maria Moscone deserves better than her scumbag parents let’s be real

SOPHIE TAKING THINGS TOO PERSONALLY AND GETTING THE WAY OF THE JOB

THIS!!! THIS IS WHY THE NETWORK ORDER MAKES NO SENSE!!! THIS HERE’S AN AIMEE REFERENCE BUT IF THEY’D ALREADY DONE THE TWO HORSE JOB, HARDISON WOULD’VE KNOWN ABOUT HER AND NOT ASKED

“What did you do?” “Me? I liberated CROATIA!” *angry apple bite* i CAN’T I LOVE HIM

DO PEOPLE NOT KNOW PARKER ISN’T A BRIDESMAID? HOW IS THAT DRESS FOOLING ANYONE

Hardison in love with Parker is so pure

… Okay but shouldn’t maria and blonde n’ bitchy know that Parker isn’t a bridesmaid? Wouldn’t the other bridesmaids know? Why does no one in the wedding party question ANYTHING?

HARDISON’S SCARF THOUGH

WHY IS HER MOTHER WEARING WHITE?? WHO WEARS WHITE TO A WEDDING WTF

MARIA MOSCONE DESERVES BETTER

SOPHIE FUCK OFF!! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS RIGHT NOW?? THIS ISN’T IMPORTANT SOPHIE!! SOPHIE STOP IT!! SOPHIE SHUT UP!

M A R I A M O S C O N E D E S E R V E S B E T T E R

The Butcher of Kiev is the best subplot of this episode but HOW THE FUCK DID THEY ALL KNOW HE AND ELIOT HAD A PAST

Sophie is so fucking annoying in this episode I hate her right now

THESE PEACHES AREN’T GONNA POACH THEMSELVES PARKER

OH MY GOD NATE SHUT UP

NATE SHUT UP

NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR THIS NATE

SHUT THE FUCK UP NATE

THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU NATE

“In my day, no one would do business at their daughter’s wedding” WELL THEN DON’T DO BUSINESS

Parker’s face smushed against the glass is great

Ahh yes, you don’t get the money so you SHOOT THE BRIDE. Because THAT’s not gonna cause a scene and get you arrested.

OK be honest is there anyone who was surprised by the wife being responsible? Bc I’m not

Eliot’s face is like “TFW the guy whose face you burned shows up at a wedding you’re supposed to be pretending to but actually are catering with a cleaver and backup and the overwhelming urge to kill you”

I know that’s super specific but that’s what it is

Parker’s really good at playing drunk

But also, why did they not question what she was doing behind the curtain

Like she just happened to appear after they were finished talking about VERY ILLEGAL THINGS and they aren’t at all suspicious?

Also, Parker using Hardison as a cover is just… I love it.

You’re laughing. Eliot brought a whisk to a knife fight and you’re laughing.

The saddest part is Eliot has any sort of cooking implement. You should be terrified right now

Okay so let me get this straight. A guy is StrANGLING you, you get your hands on a rolling pin, and your instinct isn’t, “hey, I can use this rolling pin to clobber him over the head,” the instinct is “Let me use this rolling pin to get my hands on the appetizers?” Like, yes, lemon juice, but also ROLLING PINS ARE HEAVY AND YOU COULD AT LEAST KNOCK THE GUY OUT

But no, let me shove fucking MUSHROOMS in his eyes because otherwise how else would we get the symmetry of the butcher yelling “IT BUUUURRRNNNNSS” both times he fights Eliot

And then he uses the fucking serving tray to bonk him on the head INSTEAD OF THE DUCKING ROLLING PIN

LIKE SERIOUSLY HAVE YOU EVER USED A ROLLING PIN AS A WEAPON

I’M NOT SAYING I HAVE BUT OUCH

Like, just… If I had a choice between being hit over the head with a thin sheet of metal or a log of wood with metal inside it, I’d pick the sheet, because at least that one has some give.

“It’s the lemon juice” How does Eliot make that sound badass

“You just kill a guy with an appetizer?” How the FUCK WOULD YOU KNOW THAT??

WHY DOES NO ONE ASSUME A ROLLING PIN WOULD BE AN OKAY WEAPON

Or like LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE IN THAT KITCHEN. THERE ARE CAST IRON PANS IN THAT KITCHEN. Or just liek… regular pans. HAVE YOU EVER DROPPED A NONSTICK PAN ON YOUR FOOT? IT FUCKING HURTS?? WHY IS THE APPETIZER YOUR FIRST INSTINCT NATE

Also, he’s clearly not dead. What the fuck

“I don’t know, maybe” I KNOW AND tHE ANSWER IS NO YOU OBVIOUSLY DIDN”T

...who honeymoons in Kansas? Is that a thing?

They are a very cute couple i’ve gotta be honest

“Exactly what denomination are you reverend?” He isn’t

“You’re not Mary Poppins, youre a bitch” Okay pot. Okay.

LITERALLY THAT FUCKING HANDBAG WOULD AHVE MADE A BETTER WEAPON THAN THE MUSHROOMS

How does Hardison remember all those numbers? He didn’t even hear a bunch of them, but he takes the book out so slowly? DOES HARDISON HAVE AN EIDETIC MEMORY? WHY IS THAT NOT A PLOT POINT MORE OFTEN

Like I’m just saying, someone tries to tell me their phone number more than 3-4 numbers at a time and I get confused. But hardison just… remembers

What happened to the cash? The daughter gets the fucking wedding present she DESERVES for putting up with her awful parents that’s what

Hardison appreciating Eliot’s cooking is EVERYTHING

“I left him five dollars for socks” Well everyone needs socks.

Okay wait I just had a thought

If Nate isn’t an actual Reverend, is that marriage even legal? Does Nate just happen to also be a legally ordained minister? Did they have to get him an online ordainment? WhY did we not see that scene? WHAT IF HE’S NOT AND THEY AREN’T ACTUALLY MARRIED

And today on “I clearly think far too much about these things”

PARKER WIth KIDS IS EVERYTHING

Eliot cooking for his family I love it

ELIOT IN A TANK TOP I LOVE IT

Was Eliot’s arms the most important part of this scene? Probably not

Is it the only thing I care about? ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY

I”M A SIMPLE GIRL AND HE HAS VERY NICE ARMS OKAY

Final thoughts: 9/10. I love this episode so much guys. Points off because really who the fuck wears white to a wedding. I know that’s the point but its very off putting. Also for the bridesmaid dresses because they were ugly as sin. Actual point off for the wife secretly being awful. Very predictable, ew. Extra points for Chef!Eliot. Extra points for Eliot’s arms. Points off for Nate and Sophie being completely insufferable. Extra points for Parker being great in this episode. Points off for the FUCKING ROLLING PIN YES I’M STILL ANGRY DONT @ ME. Extra points for Eliot killing a man with an appetizer because it’s still funny. Extra points for no IYS or Sam references THANK THE FUCKING LORD. Or, at least, if there was, i didn’t notice, meaning it wasn’t egregious so whatever. So yeah, anyway I really fucking love this episode.

IYS Count: 2/3

Sam Count: 2/3 AND WE ARE ALL BETTER OFF FOR IT

#leverage #leverage rewatch #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker #sophie devereaux #nathan ford #ot3 #leverage ot3 #the wedding job

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